#i love being awake in the early morning hours its actually my favorite

[juniperdugong]

Forgot Your Lunch - Scoups

WC: 1023 || Genre: Fluff :) ...Angst :( || Happy (late) Birthday to this very handsome man!! ❤

A/N: If this does well maybe a pt.2 with what happened? (I totally don't have a whole story in my head about this fic alr...and this totally wasn't meant to be a teaser but got out of hand)

Some songs that inspired this fic!

Those morning hours, right before the sun shines in all its splendor, when most people are still resting their tired brains, and when quietness feels like a warm welcome to the day.

These were Seungcheol's favorite hours. The slivers of warm orange sunlight peaking through the curtains illuminating the space, giving the house a different type of glow. He relished in the fact that no one, not even you, was awake during this time. It gave him all the pleasure of gazing at your sleeping figure and giving you a few feather-light kisses before he actually got started with his day.

Seungcheol had gotten really into cooking when you two got together. Watched the tutorials, wrote down the recipes, and did a lot of the grocery shopping when he had the time - he even asked for help from Mingyu when he was really struggling. All of this effort put in for one simple goal - to be able to make your lunches for work.

He took great pride in making sure your lunch was not only healthy and balanced but nice on the eyes as well! Presentation was half the battle of cooking in his (humble) opinion.

Today wasn't any different, after haphazardly washing up he waltzed into the kitchen and chose a fitting playlist for such a joyful morning. He knows what to make, one of your favorites, a very simple and delicious spread of kaarage, a rolled omelet, rice, and a mix of fruits and vegetables cut up in the cutest little shapes! (Never forgetting the homemade spicy mayo, of course.) It's a specialty of his - and more than that - it was the first lunch he made you that you had raved about to your coworkers, only boosting his ego evermore.

Humming along to the music he went through the motions of washing and cooking the rice, setting out all the ingredients he'd need, and placing all the dishware on the counter in an assembly line. The few times that you'd woken up early enough to witness this practiced scene you'd have to admit that it was impressive the way he had gotten it all down to a T. Like a drill sergeant he would lead the charge in the kitchen, at least in the mornings, and if you ever dared to lift a finger…the earful you'd get before work- But what else can you expect from the most loving husband in the world AND the leader of one of the top kpop groups in history?

It's like everything, all the problems and worries, drifted away during this time. The sole issue in Seungcheol's entire world being what you would eat for the day. It was his way of showing you that he still cared and that he was still very committed. With a job that kept him away from you for such long periods of time and that took up all his energy and attention when he was home, it only felt right to do something as small as wake up before you and devote some time to you - even if you weren't always there to see it.

It would be a very hard task to try and tear away the smile that grew from him as he carefully assembled the different pieces of your food into a bento box. The only change in expression coming from the way his brows would furrow and his mouth would form a pout when he was ultra-focused with a knife or when he was gently making the finishing touches.

He took the chicken from the hot oil and placed them on a paper towel-lined plate - he knew how much you hated the excess oil when you ate. Turning off the stove in a swift movement he turned his attention to slicing the egg roll into perfectly proportioned pieces that you could eat in one bite. Then the fruits and vegetables - today's variety, some blueberries, leftover chocolate-covered strawberries, and a small salad with cherry tomatoes, all served with a small toothpick - he took note of that little comment you had made about how eating things with a toothpick makes the experience a bit more fun.

With a little jaunt in his step, he moved to put the puzzle together in an eye-pleasing manner. And once he was satisfied - he stepped back from his masterpiece. His gift to you. He looked at the clock-

8pm.

Oh.

It's night time.

That's right.

He stilled completely, coming back to reality. He left the kitchen with a ruffle to his hair. Dragging his feet into the bedroom he let his hands roam around the cold sheets, desperately searching for your warmth - your figure.

This was your bed too! The one you shared. C'mon, you remember, right? You're supposed to be here.

He looked out the window, no slivers of sunlight. Just the light pollution of a bustling city.

It's late and you're supposed to be home now, works done. It's supposed to be done.

He balled up all the sheets in his two fists and knelt on the bed. Gritting his teeth through tears that didn't dare hold back his emotions. And he punched that mattress so damn hard he could swear it felt like a human fighting back against him. The tangling of the sheets feels like Seungkwan and Dino holding him back from doing something else to hurt himself. He screamed so loud that his throat hurt, and he choked himself with the sound until red and veins popped. Drunk on something akin to anger but closer to loneliness he headed face-first into a pillow - but oh it was yours. The one you laid on just a few days ago. His tears and snot smeared across the blank canvas created a gross mirage but he didn't care. He let himself sit there, inhaling everything you left. Wailing into your remnants - curling up into your side of the bed, what would always be your side of the bed.

You forgot your lunch. It's here with him. "So come back, y/n. I'm really fucking sorry."

A/N: Hey guys...been a minute (a few days) And I come back with this- I do really like this though. Love me some happy memories and train wreck tbh. Let me know what you lovelies think! Have a great weekend or week, depending on when you see this. (protip DO NOT read this while listening to "The Place Where He Inserted the Blade" almost shat tears) Please Reblog and Comment if you enjoyed ! (They act as power-ups for me)

Taglist (OPEN): @bemybabiibish @bath1lda

[star--nymph]

midnight, skin, pain, and mistake for our beloved eury?

Of course my love!! One Eury ramble coming up!

oc asks: not-so-nice edition

midnight: What keeps your OC up at night? Do they have nightmares? Fears? Anxieties? What do they do in the small hours of the morning when they should be sleeping?

Eurydice has odd sleeping habits. Prior to the Inquisition, she had never slept alone or on an actual bed--she used to sharing a fur pelt on the ground or in her aravels, snuggled next to one of her siblings. Between the distrust of her surroundings and a new environment where she was expected to sleep in a cold bed alone, she didn't sleep much. She slept fretfully, got up early, stayed awake for days, and would only rest in places where she could easily curl into a ball and hide. At first, her favorite places to rest were the stables with her mounts or on the rafters of the towers in Skyhold. Later, when she learned to trust, people could find her resting near Bull, Sera, or Vivienne. She only really started trusting bed when she became involved with Cullen. Funny because when she's with loved one, she tends to sleep deeper and becomes difficult to wake up. It's hard to get her out of her nest blankets once she's deep in there. As for what keeps her up at night, there is plenty. I mention the distrust during the early days of the Inquisition, but I didn't mention Eurydice being wary of entering the Fade through her dreams. I've mentioned this before but Eurydice has a personal rage demon that has followed her from childhood; it meets her in her dreams and tries to 'comfort' her. For the most part, she is able to avoid its temptations, but there are nights where it drags out her insecurities and trauma--sometimes conjuring memories of her father--and she wakes up in a panic. Its best to avoid the Fade when it acts up, which means she doesn't rest. But will she admit to any of that? No of course not, she simply didn't feel like resting any more. There are other things to do, like work. Later on all this gets exuberated by the addition of the voices from the Well of Sorrows. At that stage, she would enter into a near delusional state and be inconsolable. What she does when no one is awake is usually explore Skyhold--or, if she's in a fit of hysteria, it would be more akin to haunting the fortress. She walks among the towers and battlements, into the depths of the palace, finding new secrets. If she has the energy, she'll stable up a mount and ride out of Skyhold. Maybe work in the guard or in her workshop decoding artifacts she's found. Anything, really, to avoid being still and hearing something from deep inside her that might be frightfully true.

mistake: What's the worst mistake your OC ever made? What led to them making it? Have they been able to fix it? How have they moved on?

Eurydice has made plenty of mistakes but I don't think she often dwells on them more than she has to. She's a present thinking person, so if she does something wrong, she tends to just accept it is what it is and move on. If there was perhaps any mistakes she holds against herself, it's the ones that her father's has condemned her for. All the little things of being wrong, being heartless and cold, 'deliberately' disrespecting him, being unable to emote properly or act happy or look at him, for being empty and stupid, and a mistake--those are what she wishes to fix. Anything to make him forgive her and call her 'his jewel' again. But Eurydice can't fix any of that because she doesn't know how to. Even when she mimics her sister, when she tries to play the part of the good, beautiful child for him, she seems to fall short. So why try? She'll move on one day, when she's far from him, but those 'mistakes' are what haunt her even when she's in Skyhold. After all, if her father could see her as the empty doll she was, then one day all those who claim to love her will see it, too. One day, if she doesn't fix this mistake, they'll hate her as he does.

pain: What's the worst pain your OC has ever felt? Do they have a high pain tolerance?

I'd say when Eurydice turned her arm to ice and snapped it off so she could throw it at Solas, but I don't think so. I think when Samson carved his sword into her face and took out her right eye, that was worse because there was more of a psychological. Fact was, the arm needed to come off because it was killing her, so removing it and living without it was easier. But losing her eye and having her face permanently scarred? That broke her. So much of Eurydice's self worth has been tied to her beauty--all her life all she ever heard was 'at least she's beautiful'. Even if there was something 'wrong' with her head, it was her beauty that made her worth it. Samson desecrated her face as he had desecrated her people's temple, and neither could be return to what they once were. Imagine waking up to the screams of your ancestors in your ears, a dull pain where your eye, and when you look into a mirror, all you see is mutilation. In one short day, Eurydice had lost her religion, a piece of her culture, her eye, and her self worth. It took her weeks to recover and more to learn to live without her right eye, and even longer to live with the voices and accept her new reality. And all that time, she cast out all she loved and would have let herself waste away. That is true pain. Eurydice's pain tolerance is pretty high but I wonder if it's because she dissociates from it. There are times where she has been injured and she simply doesn't realize it until hours later, and even then she'll push on. At least physically, she doesn't seem to notice. Other pains, like auditory or when her hair is yanked, she'll feel right away and they're both heightened--if they overwhelm her, she might be pushed into a meltdown. Other times, however, she has been known to ripe out her hair when she's in stressed state and doesn't notice. So. Perhaps its all very touch and go?

skin: How comfortable is your OC in their skin? Do they grapple with anything that lives inside them—a beast, a curse, a failure, a monster? How do they face the smallest, weakest, most horrible version of themself? Are they able to acknowledge it at all?

Eurydice doesn't grapple with anything inside her: she grapples with nothing inside her. Not a beating heart or a brain. She picks at her skin on her chest and wonder if she beats it hard enough, it'll crack and all she'll find is a black hole. All her life, she's at best a beautiful doll--one that didn't have the ability to make her own decisions. At worst, she's this hollow thing meant to be puppeteered by those around her. And she's tricking everyone into thinking she's a real person with real feelings and attachments. One day, what if, they see that crack insider her, they watch it crumble, and they'll look inside her body and find nothing? Will they be disgusted? Or will it confirm what they always assumed about her? Eurydice doesn't face any of this, not head on. She runs, far into the forest, into the swamps and bogs and ruins, inside a cave, hiding behind elven remnants, and telling herself its better that way. She is not meant for this world; she'd rather watch from a distance and let it all burn. Don't look too closely or touch her. She doesn't want you to see what's not under her skin.

[125storejuice]

.

[astaroth1357]

Brothers Accidentally Make the MC Cry

Hello, this is the obligatory italics blurb that I have to put under my titles or else things look weird and it bothers me. Don’t mind the blurb. The blurb is a friend. (Though I could start writing pieces of a little story up here just to see if anyone even reads them… Hm…. Ideas, ideas...)

Warning: Angsty

Lucifer 

If he were being honest, he’d say that a part of him had always feared this would happen...

Lucifer likes to tell himself that he’s invincible, but everyday stresses can get to him just like anybody else. And like other people, he may not always act his best when he’s dealing with a full plate…

The MC hadn’t meant to make his day harder when they told him that they accidentally broke a lamp. It was a genuine accident! But Lucifer was still dealing with the fallout from another one of Mammon’s failed schemes, Satan had cursed all of his ties again, and Beel had eaten every scrap of food in the House… for the second time that week...

In comparison to everything else, a broken lamp was quite minor, but for Lucifer it was just the last straw and, for just a moment, he lost control…

His palm slamming against his desk hard enough to snap its legs and send it crashing to the ground. He scarcely knew what kind of look he had on his face, but whatever it was, he had made his human jump back in shock...

Really, it was silly for them to assume that he had gotten that upset over a lamp, but he saw tears starting to gather in their eyes all the same as they stammered out a quiet apology… 

It felt like an ice spike to the heart. Damn his temper… He really ought to have been more careful with them after… well, everything he’d done before…

He was quick to go over to them, catching their face with his hand and giving them the most sincere apology he could muster while wiping away their tears… Overreactions aren’t becoming of him and he hated to cause them pain… 

He, of course, took care of the lamp himself as penance and on the surface that seemed to be it (but to anyone paying attention, he had softened up on the MC considerably for at least a week. They probably could have sworn in front of Diavolo and he’d let it slide, he felt that bad about it...)

“I’m sorry, MC, I shouldn't have reacted like that… You haven’t done anything wrong, I promise… Please, there’s no need to cry…”

Mammon

Oh? What's that? His heart is now in a million pieces now...? Well, that seems fair…

He and the MC were out on one of his gambling nights and he was actually on a killer winning streak for once! Jackpots around every corner, he was rolling in it!

The MC had tried to convince him to just throw in the towel early, take his winnings while he had them and bail, but he wasn’t hearing any of it.

In hindsight, their insistence must have really shown how much the MC cared about him and wanted him to keep his earnings... but in the heat of the moment all he saw was someone trying to spoil his one night of fun.

To be fair to Mammon, it’s rather rare for him to lose control of his anger like he did. But when they tried to pull him away from the roulette table, he genuinely snarled at them and told them to get lost...!

Fortunately, he regretted his actions immediately after he saw the hurt in their eyes…

If their goal had been to get him to step away from the table, they achieved it. But only because he got up to pull them into a hug while stammering out apologies… Watching them actually shed tears hurt worse than any rope Lucifer had ever tied around him...

He spent the rest of the night away from the casino and trying to cheer up his human like his life depended on it... Seeing them in pain just tore him up that much.

"Ah, come on MC… I'm sorry, honest…! Please don't look at me like that, I'll do whatever ya want okay...? Just no more cryin…"

Leviathan 

Now thinks he's the worst, literally the worst. Lower than lesser demon spit. Lower than Cerberus' shit. Lower than… well, you get the idea…

Levi can get very… intense when things involving his passions are brought up. This can be a fairly endearing quality… but it also means he gets disproportionately impassioned about seemingly minor things.

Levi ended up snapping at the MC when they let him over-sleep one day. This wasn’t unusual for them to do as Levi’s sleep schedule was notoriously shitty, but they shouldn't have done it that particular day…

An item he wanted on Akuzon was going to go live that morning and he had to be awake to participate in the bidding. He had mentioned it to the MC the day before, but he blew past it so quickly they didn’t actually remember…

He found out that he missed the bidding after he woke up and he was pissed. Genuinely enraged that they didn’t remember to wake him up to the point that he was shouting and baring his fangs! 

… Really it was not a good look and he should have known better.

The look of fear and the tears gathering in the MC’s eyes snapped him out of it like a hard slap to the face, and somehow, it stung even more than that would’ve... It wasn’t long before he was crying along with them, practically begging for forgiveness...

He made it up to them by having a private showing of their favorite movie using a projector in the Planetarium, cuddling with them under a blanket while still, occasionally, muttering apologies under his breath.

“M-MC…? MC don’t cry…!! Please don’t cry, I- I’m sorry!! I… MC… I’m so sorry…”

Satan

Like Lucifer, he always worried this would happen and he hated when it finally came to pass…

He’d spent all his life learning how to restrain his temper, but it’s not a perfect science. There are the occasional times where the heat of the moment gets the better of him and he does something he regrets…

The MC had walked in on him one morning while he was fuming about Beel leaving the fridge empty again. It hadn’t been the first time they’d seen him like this, but this time he was absolutely furious.

He had told Beel again and again and again to get his snacking under control or to, you know, get up early and get more food so the whole family wouldn’t spend the morning starving but noooo! Mr. I’m Hungry never thinks about anything but his own stomach and then leaves whoever’s on kitchen duty to pick up the slack like some dimwitted muscle-bound meathead and THEN-!!

When the MC tried to take his arm to calm him down, he jerked their hand away from him and roared right in their face. He may not be a lion, but the full sound of a pissed off demon could make humans have breakdowns all on its own…

Which was more or less what the MC began to do as he gripped their wrist, panicking while taking shallow, stuttered breaths…

Satan's anger left him swiftly and he let them go, only reaching out to touch them again when he tried to wipe the tears from their cheeks… He had to coo and beg for them to calm down, which was only so successful because he was fighting back tears himself… 

On a scale of 1-10 of the worse things his temper has ever done, he'd rank this a firm 200... He refused to touch them for about a week afterwards and it took a long time for him to trust himself again… He just didn't want to hurt them...

"MC?? MC…? M… Oh no… MC, I'm so sorry, I would never hurt you! I… I wouldn't dare… please believe me..."

Asmodeus 

Oh baby! Sweetheart! Love of his life!! No, please no… don't subject him to this…

MC and Asmo were out dancing and some witch came by to try and flatter him.

Now, Asmo is a flirt normally, but get a few drinks in him and well… Let's just say his love of attention overrides his better judgment far more often than it should and friends don't let friends go home with creepy witches.

When the MC told the witch to scram, Asmo was confused and, frankly, quite irritated. That lovely lady had been stroking his ego in all the right ways and his human just scared her off so rudely!

Under most situations, Asmo would have kept his cool better but the haze of Demonus made his tongue loose... which let the venom fly…

He couldn’t quite remember what he said. The words left his mouth so quickly that they slurred together on his clumsy tongue, but it must have been enough because the MC flinched away from him.

That hurt all on its own, but as he started to process the pain in their eyes… he had never sobered up so fast...

He had their cheeks cupped in his hands and were kissing away their tears within the instant. Though the loud music at the club should have drowned out his apologies, the MC could see it written all over his equally tearful face…

He pulled them into his arms and then out of the club shortly after, the fog of Demonus that plagued him just moments before had long left him and all he knew was that the MC needed to be brought home and cuddled… stat.

“M-MC…? I’m sorry was it something… did I…? I’m so sorry… Please don’t cry…!”

Beelzebub 

He really didn't mean to shout so loud… honest... 

Beel becomes a completely different person when he’s hungry. He’s not entirely to blame, as his hunger can get so intense, but he still can snap from time to time when he really doesn’t mean to…

It was right after one of his practices and Beel hadn’t gotten a chance to eat in a few hours by the time the MC came to grab him from RAD. That already had him in a bad mood, but practice hadn’t gone too well for him either… 

He honestly didn’t realize how sharply he snapped at the MC when they asked him how he was. The irritation and frustration of the day all hit him at once and he became much harsher towards them than he ever intended…

It must have been the shock of seeing ever-sweet Beel suddenly get so aggressive with them that startled them so. He saw a couple tears gathering in their eyes before they could hide them and his heart just sank…

The MC was picked up in a crushing bear hug before they even let out their first sniffle. Beel didn’t even have to say how sorry he was, they could feel it in every squeeze he gave them. All while he completely ignored the growling of his stomach...

Beel wouldn’t let them go until he was certain they’d forgiven him which, honestly, took a while. Mammon was the one to ask why he had carried them all the way back to the House like a baby but… well, he didn’t need to know, now did he?

“MC, I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have shouted… Are you alright...?”

Belphegor 

Stubborn boi is stubborn and trying really, really hard not to crack right now...

That's not going to last long.

Belphie can be a bit of a brat and since he's the baby of the family so he's used to getting his way. He and the MC don't argue a ton, but when they do, he always digs his heels in and refuses to budge an inch on anything.

So what started out as a simple disagreement on how often Belphie would flake out on his chores turned into a kick-the-door-down argument over how much his laziness left the MC to pick up the slack...

It ended as all their barn burning arguments do, with demon-form Belphie sitting cross-legged on his bed refusing to look at them and the MC angrily pacing about the room until he cools off…

And then he heard it.

First a sniffle… and then a hiccup. Another sniffle then muffled whine…

Oh no… not this… Why are they crying…? They don't normally cry…

To his credit (or perhaps discredit), he managed to hold out for about two minutes before he finally glanced back at them. Seeing the MC wiping their tears all alone on the floor crumbled his resolve real quick.

The MC found themselves enveloped by Belphie's arms before they even noticed he got up. Naturally, he was pouting and trying to make it seem like "not a big deal or anything" but they could tell by the nervous twitch of his tail that he was hurting too…

Needless to say. Belphie started remembering his chores a lot more after that.

"Humans are so fragile… I didn't mean to make you cry, you know? I'll get things done just… Don't cry… please…"

[thera-daydreams]

PLUS ONE

》 A TRESE TWOSHOT 《

[Maliksi x Reader]

📝 Summary: In which your beloved best friend snatches you from your apartment at dawn asking you to be his plus one for his cousin's wedding. Unbeknownst to the clueless you, everything is just going according to Maliksi's ultimate masterplan. With the help of friends and family, the Prince of the Tikbalang finally gets the girl he's been longing for. And oh, Señor Armanaz gets his dream daughter-in-law and the promise of grandchildren within the year.

📌 Warning: May contain some slight NSFW for spicy suggestiveness and cussing. No smut or anything super SPG—this girl can't write that for her life—but just be prepared. It's Maliksi we're talking about. We've got friends-to-lovers, obliviousness, pining, fluff, and a tikbalang simp. Figure it out. 😃

(word count: 7,454) ♥︎ Part Two: ?

》 AUTHOR'S NOTE 《

Not an Inday spinoff, but a lengthy oneshot in celebration of this blog getting 90 followers. Just ten more to 100, yay! Thank you so much for the love and support, everyone. I also promised that I'll be making this brainrot that @binibiningbabaylan and I have fangirled over a few days ago (find the original post here) when I finished the latest chapter of Inday. Here it is! 🥰

Before I forget, I was also inspired by the cute fic made by @crispybasil titled "Sunshowers" and the "Trese Boys As Things My Guy Friends Do" made by the amazing @smolla-than-a-bug (I bow down to your wonderful works in the Trese fandom). I definitely see Maliksi to be the type to go on spontaneous roadtrips and be the boyfriend to drive you around eveeeerywhere (while also driving you crazy). 🚘

There are also some songs mentioned throughout this work. You should probably listen to them while reading for the full experience. Ending was somewhat rushed but eh, I'm too exhausted and I've rewritten it too many times. Also, if someone makes some actual tikbalang smut, tag me please. Anyways, enjoy! 💕

The way it all started was hilarious. Absolutely fucking hilarious. It happened like a blur. Literally. One second, you were snoozing in your bed. The next? You had a seatbelt on in the shotgun seat of a sophisticated-looking car. Your brain didn't even get to process it yet.

"... So let me get this straight," you grumbled, still half-asleep from your sleep marathon. You just finished a hugely successful project at work yesterday, got promoted, and wanted to make up for the restless nights you spent overtime in the office. Of course you were irritated from being disturbed. You were on vacation leave for two entire weeks, originally planning to go into temporary isolation by deactivating your social media accounts and reserving a beach cabana for yourself in Batangas.

Well, turns out, you weren't going to Batangas anytime soon. All because your unreasonably spontaneous bestfriend of ten hectic years stole you from your apartment at 2AM. Was this considered kidnapping? Was this him just being more in touch with his tikbalang side, taking unsuspecting women in their sleep and leading them to their inevitable death? (He was going over the speed limit, so it was a valid thought.) Will wearing your shirt inside-out save you today? Lord, masyado ka pang pagod para mag-isip ngayon.

"Go on."

"You abducted picked me up in the middle of the night because you want me to be your plus one at your cousin's wedding in Tagaytay?"

"Yup. And technically, the venue is right on the outskirts of Cavite going to Tagaytay," he corrected you as a matter-of-factly.

"Same thing, whatever," you huffed tiredly. "Your cousin's wedding is at 6AM today. In a few hours. In four hours."

"Uh-huh."

You groaned exasperatedly, "Mal naman, eh! You didn't even let me bring anything. Could've at least given me a heads-up a few hours ago. I'm practically emptyhanded right now save for my phone! Sinungaling ka, you said this was just a normal midnight drive—not a freaking wedding!"

The Prinsipe ng Mga Tikbalang, son of the Great Stallion, heir to the Armanaz herd, and the Top Drag Racer of C-5 Expressway—if that was even one of his Game of Thrones-like titles—grinned as he continued driving beside you. He let you continue ranting in the passenger seat while he mulled over his ultimate masterplan that would change his entire life later on. He was a spur-of-the-moment kind of guy, so all this wasn't his thing. But for you? He'll make plans, alright.

"Wala man lang akong dinalang masusuot o kahit konting makeup para maging presentable sa harapan ng buong pamilya mo," you exclaimed, in absolute despair. "Do you know how out of my league you are? Your rich-ass family might judge me—hell, your dad might see me as a hampaslupa if I show up there in my pambahay and tsinelas!"

"Psh, I'm not out of your league," Maliksi waved it off, smoothly turning a corner. "And calm down. We've known each other for a decade! My dad practically loves you as his own daughter. Heck, the entire family knows you and keeps telling me they want you adopted in already. Lolo Andres and Lola Perlita said they'd have the paperwork settled. You just need to sign them."

It would be even better (and easier) if you married into the family. To him, specifically (as if he'd let anyone else have you). God, he was already being so obvious in his advances, but you were just so damn oblivious whenever it came to romance. None of this needed to happen if you just got it through your thick skull that he was madly in love with you.

"That's not the point, idiot!" you slumped back into your seat, hopeless. "Do you think the bride and the groom will get offended? Shit, baka masumpaan ako kung magagalit sila, Mal. Mukha akong patay galing sa South Cemetery."

The long-haired tikbalang rolled his eyes, "Huwag kang mag-alala. Nothing's going to go wrong. Chill ka lang diyan. I've got everything under control, babe."

Babe. Yes, he even called you babe but you thought it was him being a himbo and a massive flirt. Now, it was his common term of endearment for you, but you still assumed it was him just being irksome to you and that you couldn't stop the man from saying it anymore. Thus, you let it be (the most obvious hint of his attraction to you, bestie).

"... Ugh, why didn't you ask Hannah or Amie to go with you?"

He just smiled knowingly, shrugging and making up an excuse, "Nagmamadali ako, eh. Hannah and Amie are also coming, but they already have the other tikbalang as dates."

"'Luh, ako pala ang backup choice mo?"

"Heh. Whatever you want to think."

Little did you know that you were always his first choice. Always. Even when he pursued Alexandra Trese many years ago, trying to convince himself you were just his best friend, it was always you. How did he come to that realization? Well, an international band he was a fan of released a song a couple years ago and he heard it being played in a club in BGC. The song title?

It Was Always You by Maroon 5.

Needless to say, after hearing the song and being unable to get it—get you—out of his mind at night, he stopped courting Alexandra. Unfortunately for him, that time, you'd started dating other men. Therefore, he was left on the sidelines... until your latest and most painful breakup, at least. That was five years ago. You still hadn't dated anyone since then, kind of traumatized from getting into another failed relationship like that.

In the present day, as if the fates were playing on you two, one of your favorite artists played on the radio. A very ironic song given the situation you two were in.

Best Friend by Rex Orange County.

Maliksi knew it was a favorite of yours. He knew it by the way your eyes lit up like a star brightening the twinkling night sky. Like the sun first rising in the morning at Apolaki's command. Like the moon extending its gentle rays from the magic of Mayari herself. If there was anything he wanted to ask of the old gods, it was you—everything else be damned.

"I wanna be the one that makes your day, the one you think about as you lie awake," you half-sang and half-screamed happily, somewhat out-of-tune. "I can't wait to be your number oooooone! I'll be your biggest fan and you'll be mine—"

Maliksi glanced at you, not minding that his eardrums were probably getting microscopic ruptures from your aggressive singing. As much as he wanted to stare at you all day, he had to keep his eyes on the road. But the lyrics you were singing were wrong; the Prince of the Tikbalang was already yours from day one.

"Babe, McDo drive-through tayo for breakfast. Let me make it up to you. Gusto mo ng caramel sundae for your promotion gift? Sige. Ako bahala. Chicken nuggets din? Mabubusog ka ba niyan? I don't think they serve those this early..."

》》》

"Sandali lang!" you shouted out from inside an empty room. You'd just arrived at the venue—the Alta Veranda de Tibig in Silang, Cavite (practically the gateway to Tagaytay)—an hour or so ago. The hired makeup artist just left so that you could privately change into the outfit that had been bought specifically for you. Curse Mal and his ability to buy anything (perhaps anyone) he wanted. "Bwiset, Mal, you didn't tell me we'd be part of the damn entourage. We have to be walking the aisle in thirty minutes, simbako! You just love rushing me, don't you!?"

If only you were the one walking down the aisle today towards him.

When you exited the room, Maliksi couldn't help but let his jaw drop as he skimmed your figure, clad in the luxurious, silky satin blush midi dress he bought in one of those fancy stores in Makati yesterday. He imagined that it would look great on you, but now, seeing it on you in person... you looked divine (and frankly, he wanted to see it off your body to see what was underneath—but don't get too ahead of yourself, Mal). It was a whole 'nother level from his imagination. The deep cowl neckline and thin spaghetti straps showed your lovely collarbones... as well as a peek of your cleavage. His favorite and the best part of it all? It was backless, allowing him to gaze at the tempting curve of your spine.

He hadn't realized he had grown silent until you smiled and closed his mouth, tapping his chin.

"Lalangawin ang bibig mo, Mal," you laughed softly. Never had you seen him so speechless. You then flicked your hair back, ridiculously posing for him like you were on the cover of Vogue magazine (haba ng hair mo, gurl!). "Do I look that good? Char lang."

"... You look absolutely ravishing—I mean, uh, stunning. Hot. Yeah." That was all he could say. He mentally punched himself for not showering you with more suave compliments.

Still, your face brightened up, not knowing that the man in front of you just fell for you a thousand times harder, "Wow! Really? Damn. Ang galing talaga ng MUA na kinuha mo, ginawa akong artista. Give me their contact number later! May work event pa naman ako in two months. I'm shocked, it's like they made me rise from the dead! Even my eyebags are gone, Mal! How'd they do that?" Heck yeah, your confidence was boosted. He offered his arm to you like a gentleman, making you half-heartedly roll your eyes (you took it anyway). From holding it alone, you could tell that your best friend was a sinewy man (well, you knew that already after seeing his tikbalang form before—the little shit didn't even wear a loincloth like all his clanmates; your poor eyes were eternally scarred).

You looked him up and down. You wouldn't lie—Maliksi is and always has been an attractive man. Now? With his hair in a ponytail (pun not intended), definitely one of the hunkiest men you've ever known. "You're not looking too bad yourself, horsey."

"Ako pa!" He puffed his chest out in pride. You chuckled at his reaction.

"By the way, how do you even know my dress size and my shoe size?"

"Babe, I've known you too long. You know almost everything about me, I know everything about you."

You snorted at his confident tone, "'Di nga? You don't know every single thing about me, Mal. Assuming ka masyado."

"Alam ko nga anong cup size mo. Wala lang 'yang shoe and dress size."

You slapped his shoulder, cheeks quickly flushing red, "Huy, umayos ka! Walang hiyang tikbalang na 'to." With this guy as your best friend? You heard dirty jokes at least once a day. "Don't be inappropriate here!"

"What? It's only fair I know!" He looked down on you suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows. "You already know I always go commando, so of course I know that your bra is a size—"

"Shhh! Baka marinig ka, 'nyeta."

"So? Let them hear. My best friend has a nice set of melons!" he shouted. You were grateful there was no one around. Hopefully.

"Oh my God..."

Your best friend chortled at how flustered you'd become. He led you to where some of his family was waiting, with a couple of his relatives already greeting you. You instantly and quite easily mingled with them, your worries of them not accepting you far from even true (they all knew how much their prince loved the innocent you).

"Kayo na talaga, pare?" one of his older tikbalang clanmates asked while you went away to be fawned over by his aunts.

Maliksi chuckled, crossing his arms as he watched you from afar, "Heh. Hindi pa."

Another one of his clanmates—a younger one—laughed, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, "Talaga? That's cap, bro. You two are like a married couple already and you guys still aren't a thing?"

"Ilang taon na ba kayong magkakaibigan?" the older one asked him.

"Almost ten years," Maliksi responded, a smile unconsciously pulling his lips up as he remembered your moments together. He watched you converse with his female relatives (who adored you the moment Maliksi brought you to a family event many moons ago).

The two tikbalang snickered as they saw the look on the Great Stallion's heir.

"You're down bad," the younger one said, snapping a photo of his lovestruck kuya. "You've got it so bad for her, dudeparechong!"

"Balak mong ligawan anytime soon?" the older tikbalang inquired.

"Heh. Balak ko na ngang pakasalan. Kung pwede, ngayon."

They looked at Maliksi as if he was crazy. He was very much serious, though, even if there was a huge, lopsided smile on his face. The Prince of the Tikbalang raised a brow at them.

"What? Don't give me that look. Our ten years of being best friends is practically the courting and the dating stage already."

"Eh... you're right. Don't waste anymore time. Go and marry her today, dude. Suporta kami sa'yo, basta groomsmen kami sa kasal niyo, ha!"

"Ge. Without question."

Meanwhile, on your end with the ladies of the family, they started pestering you on your love life (like all typical Filipino aunties). Chismis everywhere.

"O, iha, single ka pa ba?"

"Kailan ka magpapakasal? Malapit ka nang pumasok sa thirties mo."

"Do you want kids? How many?"

"Are you and Maliksi a couple? You look good together! Kayo na, 'di ba?"

"Will you be getting married next? Are you engaged? When's the wedding? Invite niyo kami!"

Before you could get overwhelmed by their questions, Maliksi swept you off your feet to lead you to the entourage that was lining up outside the chapel area. Again, it happened like a blur. He laughed at the partially nauseated look on your face.

"You okay there?" he asked, grinning.

"Your family thinks we're together," you muttered quietly, not meeting his eyes. You weren't sure why you felt... tingly about their statements.

He tilted his head at you curiously, gently setting you down on your feet and helping you stand.

"Do you hate the idea?" It hurt him to ask you the question, but he wanted your thoughts on it. Perhaps doing this was a bad idea. Maliksi was competitive in many things, including wanting you to be his, but if you were so opposed to it, he would never force you into something you didn't want. He let go of your hand; you didn't even notice he'd been holding it until he let go. "Am I making you uncomfortable?"

Your wide-eyed gaze snapped back to look up at him, "No! No, it's not that! And... it's not bad." Your hand felt strangely empty now that his was gone. Biting your lip, you disclosed, "You're not making me uncomfortable, Mal. Don't ever think that."

With that, you shyly interlocked your arm with his, tearing your eyes from his to mask the growing warmth you felt spreading in your veins. You two didn't say anything else when the ushers let you walk down the beautiful, petal-covered aisle together.

The man beside you was starstruck. Hopeful. Maybe both of you did have a chance. Maybe somewhere in the depths of your soul, his feelings for you were being reciprocated. For the rest of the sacred ceremony in the gorgeous main pavilion, both of you relished in short, comfortable, and low conversations. He even cracked jokes every once in a while—really funny ones that made it challenging for you to you stifle your laughter.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may kiss the bride."

Maliksi fervently prayed to Bathala that he'd experience the same opportunity he was seeing with you someday. One day.

Even while the sun was brightly out, the sky began showering down light rain onto the land. You were in awe as you looked out the window.

"Hala, totoo nga pala! Tignan mo!" you laughed, tugging Maliksi's suit sleeve, pointing at the window.

"Na ano?" he curiously inquired, not understanding what you were referring to.

"Na kapag may tikbalang na kinakasal, umuulan habang may araw pa," you replied, eyes filled with childlike mirth and wonder. A rainbow had even begun to form by the clouds. "Look, it's magical! Ang ganda pala ng view dito kasama ang old Spanish architecture. Timeless na timeless. It's so pretty, 'no? Picture tayo 'maya, Mal."

Unlike you, it wasn't the sky outside that the prince was looking at. Amidst the loud cheers for the newlywed couple and the bubbles the guests were blowing, his vision could only focus on how magnificent you looked while being amazed. You were his best view. (Ed from 90-Day Fiancé, kabahan ka na, may katapat ka sa pickup line mo.)

》》》

"Smile for the picture!"

You giggled as Maliksi was dragged into a photo-op with the bridesmaids and the important older wedding sponsors a few feet away (funnily, he looked a little constipated around them). All of a sudden, when he was heading back to your direction, you were roughly pushed into the said man's arms. When you turned around, there was nothing (except maybe a gust of wind that came out of nowhere).

"Ooh, gotcha. Careful," the tikbalang steadied you, strong hands holding your biceps. "Natapilok ka?"

"... Huh, hindi naman," you wondered suspiciously, looking around. "I think someone pushed me? Parang tinulak ako... but wala namang tao."

"Weird. Maybe it was just the wind."

It actually was. Really. Maliksi knew for a fact that it was those two taong hangin who were spying on you from the corner, trying to pair you up. He gave them a thumbs-up while your back was turned in the opposite direction. Hannah and Amie returned the thumbs-up before vanishing. Suddenly, the two wedding photographers had moved on from the bridesmaids and were right beside you.

"What a lovely couple you two are!" she praised. Before you could correct her, she held up the black contraption she held towards you two. "Pose for the camera, lovelies!"

And so you did, the photographer guiding you two on what to do. Maliksi wrapped his arm around your waist and you leaned on his side, looking sidewards to the camera with one leg cocked in front of the other. Her assistant, who was holding a polaroid camera, printed out two photos for you.

"Thank you," you told him, taking the photos from his hands then flicking them rapidly to make the images develop. You and Mal were about to walk to the reception area when the photographer stopped you, handing the male beside you a business card.

"If you two need a photographer or a videographer for your wedding, call me," she signaled to both of you before running to another guest, bringing her assistant with her.

You gawked, "Mal, did you just hear what she said?"

"Loud and clear." A grin was on his face. He seemed very pleased at what he heard.

"... How can she even tell if someone is married or not?"

Maliksi's free hand took your left hand, tapping the ring finger, "Nothing here."

"Ooooooh. I get it now." Your brows creased. "Huh. This is like the fifth time today the people here have mistaken us for a couple."

Maliksi shrugged, teasing you, "Who knows? Baka may potential tayo, babe."

Before you could ask him what he meant, he was hurriedly towing you to the reception venue. While he was doing that, you stared at the now-developed polaroid photos you were holding. Huh. Maybe you two did look like a couple.

"Come on, they're serving some snacks at the welcome reception area. Peach pie and mango float-flavored. Paborito mo, babe."

》》》

The rest of the night went by without a hitch. You were actually enjoying the event—the host was great, the food was great, the music was great. Everything was great... that was, until the games.

"Alright! Now that the bride's garter has been removed, let's have the bouquet and garter toss... starting with the females!" the host announced. "Dear bride, please stay here in front. And all single ladies—and by single I mean ready to mingle and are not married—please rise and stand here on the dance floor. Let's play matchmaker tonight, everyone!"

"Uy, single ladies daw," Maliksi nudged your side. "Sign mo na 'yan." You snorted like a pig.

"Nope, ayokong madamay sa bouquet toss," you whisper-yelled at your best friend. "Do you know how embarrassing that is?! Besides, they won't notice if I don't join! Special tactic ko 'yan sa weddings: pretending I'm not single. Katabi naman kita."

More women came to the front, making you feel assured that you didn't need to participate. The host was about to say something, when the bride interrupted to whisper something into his ear.

"Hala, halaaa! Sabi ko all single ladies, pero may isang single lady na nagtatago pa!" he announced, making you freeze. Please don't let it be you. "What's her name, beloved bride?"

"Y/N L/N." You nearly spat out your champagne. You? Did they just call out your name? How did they know?

"Oh fuck," you cursed quietly.

"'Di ka makakatakas dito, babe," Maliksi jabbed, making you stand up. "Tinatawag ka na."

"Baka may ibang Y/N L/N dito," you resisted, attempting to sit back down. "I can't do this, Mal."

"'Sus, ikaw pa. And it's just a symbolic ceremony!" he encouraged, as if he didn't have any underlying intentions. "I doubt the bouquet will go to you anyway."

Sheesh, what a big fat liar you are, tikbalang prince.

You expressed your dissatisfaction with the situation, "Bwiset, fine. I'll just... dodge it. Or evade it. God, I swear..." You calmed down, confident. "I'm not going to worry. I've never caught the bouquet at my own friends' weddings anyway."

When you were at the dance floor, Maliksi snickered, seeing the bride—his cousin—wink at him. After all, he had thoroughly bribed her earlier.

《《《

"It's about time you settled down with someone, Mal," the bride commented while he slipped her the newest Hermés designer bag filled with a bunch of jewelry (plus some bills) two hours ago, right before the reception began and while you were in the restroom freshening up. "Hehehe, this is why you're my favorite cousin."

"Do we have a deal?"

"Of course. I'll make sure she participates. I'll also try to throw it in her direction."

"Good. Thanks."

"You better invite me to your beach wedding. I can tell how much you love her."

"Not a problem. I'll even make you a sponsor."

The bride stared at her bouquet, already practicing how she was going to throw it, "Tito's going to thank me so much for ensuring that he's going to get grandkids soon, hihi."

》》》

Back to the present, on the other end of the room, Maliksi saw a familiar duo give him a sign that they were ready. Bingo. Time to execute the most important part of his plan.

《《《

"I don't care how you do it," he told the two wind elementals after he bribed the bride. "I've already instructed the bride on what she should do, pero siguraduhin niyo lang talagang lumipad sa kanya ang bouquet."

"Mmhmm," Amie flipped her hair, a hand on her cocked hip. "And what do we get in return, oh great Señorito Armanaz?"

"Sagot ko bar-hopping niyo for one month."

The two girls pretended to think about it, making Maliksi roll his eyes. He had to pull out the big guns, huh?

"Fine. Magbibigay ako ng cash deposit plus pwede niyong gamitin ang black card ko for a one-week shopping spree in Ortigas." There. Bullseye. That's what they liked.

"Deal!" they exclaimed excitedly.

Hannah let a cool gust of wind enter one of the nearby windows, testing out how they're going to do this. "Ano pa bang pinaplano mo for Y/N mamaya?"

Maliksi hummed, "Basta."

》》》

You tried your best to hide within the densest part of the group of women. The bride seemed to have her eyes on you, weirdly enough, and she looked almost feral wanting to throw her flowers into someone's face.

That someone being you. Most likely.

"Target locked on," you saw her mouth move. She positioned herself like she was about to throw a football at someone (ahem, you). Holy shit, was she talking to you? Miss ma'am, it was a bouquet toss not a bouquet throw. The bride seemed to notice this, and once more regained her elegant composure.

"3, 2, 1," the host counted down. "Go!"

Surprisingly, the bouquet flew very high into the air (it was a wonder it didn't get tangled in the ceiling decor), but quite a distance away from you. You grinned, knowing it was too far to even touch you. Squeezing through the crowd of women eagerly awaiting the bouquet, you went to return to your assigned table.

Ah, what a wonderful evening.

Sike!

Something painfully landed right into your face, leaves and flowers getting into your hair and mouth.

... Wait, leaves and flowers?

Before you could comprehend it, the bouquet dropped right into your arms. What kind of ungodly, inhuman force allowed this to even happen?

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have our lucky girl for the night!" Everyone clapped, with some—those guests you knew—even cheering your name unbelievably loud. The host approached you, a glint in his eye which you couldn't understand. "Miss Y/N, kindly sit here while we await the lucky guy who catches the garter from the groom."

What just happened?

"All single gentlemen, please proceed to the dance floor. Remember, the man who gets the garter gets to slip it onto the lucky lady's leg later!"

Oh, God. You pinched the bridge of your nose. What you'd give to be back at home or to be in that resort in Batangas you'd planned on going to for a solo vacation.

"To make this even more exciting," the host stated, handing you a black blindfold. "Our lucky lady has to keep her eyes closed until her lucky man for the night captures the bride's garter! When the music plays, only then can she uncover her eyes."

See? Humiliating, just as you expected. Still, you wrapped the blindfold around your head (albeit hesitantly). You attempted to guess who it might be, thinking of all the tikbalang friends Maliksi had introduced to you back then whenever he invited you to his clan reunions.

"Groom, are you ready?" the host asked, microphone loud and clear.

"Ready na ready!"

"Single gentlemen, are you ready?!"

"Ready na ready! Awoo, awoo!" they loudly chorused, exactly mimicking Spartans about to engage in battle. You sweatdropped in the seat you were in. This was actually kind of scary. Maybe you felt a bit objectified.

"3, 2, 1, go!"

There was a brief moment of silence, which made you concerned. Ba't ang tahimik? Then, everyone erupted into roars and bravoes much louder than when you caught the bouquet—perhaps even louder by tenfold. What the heck was happening?!

The music played. Very raunchy, spicy, babymaking music. You expected it to be the typical Careless Whisper by George Michael or Pony by Ginuwine (corny songs which you could probably laugh at, at least), but no. Nuh-uh, this was probably worse. The DJ must be pretty young, the song of their choosing being a slowed, bass-boosted, sexier remix of Earned It by the Weeknd.

Ano 'to, bold? Fifty Shades of Grey? The hell was this?

Alright. This was embarrassing. Thank the heavens there were no children at this party. From the music alone and its implications, this was strictly for adults.

You removed your blindfold (that was okay now, right?) as the guests whistled playfully. You peeked one eye open reluctantly, then inwardly groaned. Oh, no. You should've expected it to be him of all people from how loud the reactions were. And all those yells from the crowd were from his family.

Son of a—

"Well, this has proven to be a very interesting arrangement!" the host proclaimed. "Our lucky man for tonight is none other than our great clan leader's heir, Maliksi Armanaz! Congratulations, sir! You get to slip the lacey little garter on Miss Y/N!"

The said very smug tikbalang stood a few feet away from the chair you were sitting on, smirking at you. His hair was no longer in that mesmerizing ponytail—instead, he'd tied it into a more sinfully attractive man-bun, loose strands framing his face and accentuating that sharp, angled jaw of his (say yes and thank you to Manny Jacinto's jawline, besties).

"Let's cheer him on in his new mission, everybody!" the host pushed. Was this that glint in his eye earlier? And was that a one thousand peso bill sticking out of his pocket?

The groomsmen, Mal's cousins and uncles whom you've met before, hollered words of encouragement to the tall man (who was, oddly enough, not one bit fazed). In fact, Maliksi seemed like he was famished as he stared you down.

You swallowed, feeling like you were going to get eaten (heh, say that again). Maliksi had shrugged off his dark suit blazer to the beat of the song (holy fuck, he also unclasped the suspenders attached to his pants right before your eyes—asdfghjkl). Were you prepared for this? No. Will you ever be prepared? No!

"Mr. Armanaz, before you begin," the host interrupted. "We have an additional challenge for you in this mission. Kaya mo ba? It was a request of the newlywed couple."

"What is it?"

"Use your teeth!" the bride and the groom cheerfully shouted, clapping with the other guests. Whatdidtheysaaaaay???

The cocky bastard didn't even hesitate, his smirk at you growing wider; those pearly whites of his on full display. Was it just you or were his canines a little sharper than usual?

"Anything for the newlyweds. Challenge accepted," he dashingly replied, winking at you. You sputtered indignantly. Pisteng yawa. Putangina. Putek. Pakshet. You swore you thought of every swear word in the book at that moment. What did that YouTube parody song about Filipino mythological creatures say again? About the tikbalang? Ah, yes. Half-macho dancer and half-stallion. Maybe the joke was true, especially when you saw what Maliksi did next.

He bit the shred of lace, loosening his necktie (bestie, you good there?), unbuttoning some top buttons, and rolling up the sleeves of his collared white undershirt up to his elbows (consequently showing off his toned, veiny forearms—those lucky bridesmaids behind him nearly fainted). Honestly, you felt like you were about to lose your mind from embarrassment. With how tantalizing your guy best friend was being? Let our response be: San Pedro, kunin mo na ako. Was he doing all this to tease you? To rile you up?

Because damn it all, it was working. In your ten years of knowing Maliksi Armanaz, withstanding all his daily dirty jokes and flirtatious attempts, never had you seen him like this. So... wolfish. Ravenous. Like he was a man that hadn't been fed in years.

He stalked closer towards you, falling to his knees in front of your legs. Your gown had a long slit that extended up to an inch or two below where your left leg began—your best friend was eyeing his target already, knowing where to place the garter. Normally, you would never even wear something as revealing as this gown. It just wasn't your type, but Maliksi was the one who bought this for you for this specific occasion, so you had no choice. It was this or your pantulog he stole you in just hours ago. At first, you were confident in the gown. Now? You felt too... naked.

Somehow, in the heat of it all, you'd muted out the noise of the venue. Maliksi teasingly lifted your foot up, fingertips slyly grazing the thin shoe straps around your left foot—his calculated touch leaving fire in its trail. Once the garter had been successfuly inserted past your high-heeled stilettos, the man kneeling in front of you kept his hands to himself. Despite the fact that now there was absolutely zero skin-to-skin contact between you and this man, your body felt hotter than it ever was before as he expertly slid the lacy bit of cloth up your ankle at an agonizingly slow pace.

Maliksi's warm eyes had turned dark, his pupils blown, a tinge of red in them—of his true beast—while he maintained striking eye contact with you, pulling the garter up your calf with his teeth. Smoothly tugging... tugging... tugging. Tangina, it was like he was undressing you with his eyes alone; like he was telepathically telling you to keep your eyes open.

To keep your eyes on him, where he was knelt inbetween your legs, his hands intentionally locked on his back. Did you ever imagine this? Him between your legs? Maybe. Once or twice. But you never thought about it seriously; Maliksi dated girls left and right in the past.

His lips... his lips were so close... so close to your leg that you could feel the heat of his breath along with the lace. Were you about to die? Perhaps you already did. Maybe you were in heaven. Up... up... up... snap!

Suddenly, he stopped, grinning up at you mischievously and letting the elastic bounce back to the skin of your left knee.

"I'm not going any further, don't worry, babe," he whispered, noting that your eyes had become misty and glazed over. Internally, he grew worried. "That's enough." Did he think it was from discomfort? From you being uncomfortable? Bitch, no. It was the exact opposite. You had never been this turned on in your entire life.

You felt like your soul had left your body at that moment. Did you just have a heart attack? Was your blood pressure okay? Before you or Maliksi could stand, however, someone bellowed from the wedding sponsor tables.

"Higher! That's an order!"

Fucking hell, it was Maliksi's father who shouted. He wasn't in the huge tikbalang form you'd normally meet him in, but he was still very intimidating in his humanoid form, commanding attention and subservience wherever he went. You could tell where Maliksi got it from.

Instantly, the other guests—already half-drunk and wanting the spirit of partying to continue on—joined in.

"Higher! Higher!"

The host cheered, "You heard Señor Armanaz! Higher!"

Maliksi gave you a questioning look. Even if it was his father who spoke up, he still wouldn't do anything you didn't want. Well, you two made it this far; there was no point in getting embarrassed now. You bit the inside of your cheek, nodding. You probably couldn't erase the redness on your skin with how much you'd blushed from this night. It was as if the heat was tattooed onto your skin.

"Go on, Mal," you whispered to him, bending your torso down closer to his face, eyes half-lidded from want. "Finish what you started, babe."

With those sultry bedroom eyes he'd never once seen you show him before—plus you turning the tables with that familiar term of endearment, how could he refuse? Like a switch had been flipped inside him, he immediately complied, taking the frilly scrap of stretchy lace between his teeth once more, moving it further up to your thighs until where your high slit ended—centimeters below the warming juncture between your legs.

Your legs felt wobbly... boneless, as you stood up from the chair, the fabric of your gown cascading over where the lace sat securely on your upper left thigh. The party was still going strong even after you two finished the garter wearing tradition.

"'Atta boy! That's my son!" Señor Armanaz blazoned, standing up and raising his glass for a toast. "Cheers to the newlywed couple! May they last forever!"

You guys weren't the newlyweds, but it did sure feel like it. If the clan leader was hyped up, everyone was hyped up. Heck, the groom and the bride didn't mind one bit what had just transpired on their dance floor. In all the chaos, Maliksi took you out of the reception area and somewhere quieter. More private.

You would need to have a serious, urgent talk with your boy best friend.

》》》

You two silently sat on a stone bench in a gazebo somewhere in the reserved venue for the wedding, trying to cool down and get yourselves back together (at this point, you needed ice from that steamy, half-scandalous event you just went through). Here, there was no one else except for the chirping of crickets, the lush trees surrounding the area, and the golden fairy lights strewn all over the roof. Awkwardness was something you'd expected after what just happened, but somehow, you still felt comfort in this man's presence. For the past thirty minutes, both of you just stayed still, lost in your thoughts and reflecting.

"Mal?" you finally spoke up.

"... Hmm?"

"Ano tayo?"

"Whatever you want us to be."

Your fingers instinctively reached out for his, just like they always did when you were anxious. Sensing this, he grasped your hand and squeezed it reassuringly. Soothingly. He massaged the skin of your fingers, distracting you from your nervousness. It seemed like both nothing and everything changed between both of you. The gesture was the same, but so different at the same time.

"Mahal mo ako." It was not a question. It was a statement. A truth—one that you'd been too blind to see before. One that you only discovered while you stared into each other's eyes in that party not as best friends. You realized with a jolt in your heart what he really felt for you, and now, what you really felt for him. In those thirty minutes of silence, you knew. You just knew.

"Yes. I do."

"... Just as a best friend?" you probed.

"..."

Finally, you gazed into his eyes, previously so dark and full of hunger. Now? Just reluctant. Vulnerable. Open. Unsure of what to do next.

Seems like you had to be the one to take initiative tonight. Taking out your phone, you opened your music app and pressed play on a certain song. Ikaw at Ako by Johnoy Danao. You removed your heels (which were starting to blister your ankles and toes), then pulled him up to stand.

"Dance with me," you murmured, grabbing his arms to wrap them around your waist. He was stiff. Tense. What was he to do when the woman he's been pining after for so long let him hold her? All his gallantry and ability to romance disappeared out the window the moment you let him touch you so intimately.

You two weren't even waltzing. Just swaying. Slowly, you leaned your head on his broad chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart.

"... I love you," Maliksi admitted in the middle of it all, feeling like he was dreaming. Your head on his chest kept him grounded to reality, however. "More than anything in the universe. I fell for you ever since you patched me up when you were nineteen and I was a reckless drag racer who didn't have a purpose in life. 'Nung dinala mo ako pabalik sa Armanaz Tower on the verge of death. Simula noon, ikaw lang."

"I realized that," you smiled, reminiscing the old memory. You were just a broke college student that time, coming back to your dorm from making your group thesis at a classmate's house. Imagine your panic when you found a half-man, half-horse bleeding out by some bushes on the way home at night. Despite your fear and your little money (only enough to feed you for the week), you went out of your way to buy a first-aid kit at the nearest 7/11. It was scary, but you managed to mend the creature's wounds by the side of the road. When he was finally able to speak, turning fully human (which you admit, freaked you out initially), you arduously carried him back to his address—to his father and his clan, even if you had classes the very next morning. Because of your heroic deed of saving their precious heir, the tikbalang clan had become indebted to you: a teenage girl on the verge of a mental academic breakdown, just making her way through the cruel adult world. How old of a memory that was, you thought, yet you still recalled it in perfect detail. "Just a while ago."

"Ah." He swayed you gently.

"Lahat ng ito, plano mo?"

"... Yes," Maliksi fessed up. "Except for this part where we're here dancing in this belvedere. Wala sa plano ko. Gusto ko sanang magconfess doon sa may fountain para sweet, pero..."

You lifted your head off his chest, smiling at him with one brow raised, "You know, between both of us, you're supposed to be the spontaneous one. Planning isn't usually your thing."

"I know. It's a failure, huh?" Maliksi sighed.

"Nah." You shook your head, then suddenly locked lips with him. It was so fast and surprising he didn't even get the chance to return your first kiss. For once, you caught him off guard. You pecked him on the lips again. "It's not a failure."

"Wha—"

"I'm sorry for making you wait, Maliksi. Ten years. We're twenty-nine now, and only tonight do I realize how blind I've been. We've been going around in circles, wasting so much time. Ayoko nang mag-aksaya ng oras," you whispered guiltily against his lips. How could you have been so blind? Andaming nasayang na taon. Making up your mind, you told him, "Yes. Sige, I accept. I'll be your plus one."

The tikbalang was flustered and baffled from the kiss, as well as your revelation, "... But, you already are?"

"No, silly. I meant that I'll be your plus one for life. For as long as you'll have me," you laughed, now processing that you were currently dancing barefoot with your boy best friend and had just kissed him in a wedding you didn't even plan on going to. The universe had a mysterious way of doing things. "Guess I'm the spontaneous one now, huh?"

Maliksi was tongue-tied. "Seryoso ka ba? Is... Is this a marriage proposal?"

"Whatever you want it to be," you echoed his words back to him. "Best friend, plus one, girlfriend, wife—mmpf!"

He kissed you so hard your lips bruised. After an impromptu makeout session which was definitely more in character for Maliksi, you both pulled away, panting heavily in search for air, still desperate for passion. He cupped your cheeks, giving you a sweet, featherlight Eskimo kiss.

"You're missing one more title."

"Hm? What do you mean, Mal?"

"Love of my life." He kissed you again, this time lifting you off your feet and spinning you around (his sneaky right hand was resting on your bum, too, giving it a tight squeeze). You know in the Princess Diaries where the main character's foot just... pops whenever the prince charming kissed her? Yeah, that happened to you on that humid summer night. This was right. You two were meant to be together. Everything was falling into place.

The bungalow you reserved for your Batangas vacation leave ended up being the site of your very eventful honeymoon with the Prince of the Tikbalang (with his libido, it wasn't that difficult to continue where you'd left off in the garter toss; that scrap of lace came off your leg the same way it went on). Actually, nauna pa ang honeymoon sa actual wedding (it was definitely spontaneous). Right after your confession in that alcove, you two went to Maliksi's father to ask for his blessing (which he gladly gave, cackling and saying that it took you long enough) before you guys went driving off to Batangas that night. You and Mal indeed had lots and lots of fun in that resort (I'll let you imagine the rest). More beautiful memories were made from that point on—this time, not just as best friends.

All that and your small, intimate wedding occurred in early April. Just when you thought that it'd be impossible to fulfill Maliksi's life goal of having a baby within the year (nine months of pregnancy meant that the earliest you'd give birth would be January next year), the impossible happened.

Exactly thirty-two weeks later, on New Year's Eve, the Armanaz herd welcomed one prince and two new princesses into the world. Triplets who were instantly adored by everyone in the clan.

Señor Armanaz had never been happier, and so were you and your husband. Your best friend. The love of your life. Your forever plus one.

Maybe being spontaneous wasn't so bad after all.

Taglist: @belladaises @binibiningbabaylan @4kodzuk3n @sparklingmallow @severuslovebot @holyshxtangel @marinac15 @space-flamingo @pippethealien @kashasenpai @disappointmentpastry @hornehlittleweeblet2 @seijohoe @monimiin @ibelievein2dmensupremacy @tinybonksharkcop @methehipster @banisuoh @genshin-idiot @lemonnie-kimmie

[supernovafics]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇

pairing: dylan o’brien x best friend fem!reader

summary: in which dylan has been your best friend for as long as you could remember. your busy lives and schedules may have pushed both of your lives in vastly different directions as you’d gotten older, but somehow you two would always be led back to your hometown, and each other, during the holidays. however, one moment causes all of that to change. 

warnings: angst (what else is new), some fluffiness, mentions of past trauma (the maze runner incident), existential crises, explicit language

word count: 3.6k words

author’s note: idk why i decided to write something christmas related in the summer but it happened lmao (also i feel like it’s slightly important to mention that this takes place in 2016)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The rocks being thrown at your window were not what woke you up. Instead, you had been lying awake for hours; getting little to no sleep was something that you had become used to at this point.

However, on this specific night— or morning, depending on how one looked at it— you were glad that your sleep had been restless once again because it made it easy for you to get out of bed and walk to your window when the rocks began hitting it.

There was really no need for you to push open the curtains and check who was doing the throwing because, of course, it was Dylan. Ever since he moved onto your street in Hermosa Beach in middle school and the two of you easily became friends, he was the only person that would ever wake you up in the middle of the night with the soft pings of rocks, especially on this specific day at this specific time.

You waved at him and gestured that you would be down in a moment. You slipped on a random pair of sweatpants along with a hoodie and then placed the Christmas gift that you bought for him in the pocket. The item was small enough to fit in the not too big pocket of your hoodie; however, it did awkwardly protrude a bit.

All of this was a sort of unspoken tradition that the pair of you had developed over the many years you’d known each other. Meeting at five in the morning on Christmas day, walking to the beach that was only a few blocks away from your respective childhood homes, and exchanging Christmas gifts with each other as you both watched the sunrise. It started when you were in ninth grade, and you hadn't missed a year since, not even when the ending of high school pushed your lives in vastly different directions, especially since Dylan graduated a year before you and was almost immediately thrust into his acting career.

But, it didn't matter that Dylan's career took off, and you eventually decided to go to college in Santa Barbara, because, no matter what, you both would always come back for the holidays.

When you opened your front door and saw Dylan lingering by the sidewalk no more than ten feet away, you were quick to go toward him and pull him in for a tight embrace. It actually hadn't been too long since you’d last seen him, maybe only five or six months, but for some reason, it still felt as if the last time he was in front of you was last December.

"Hey," Dylan breathed out in a short greeting, his arms wounding around your waist.

“Hey to you too," You responded, a small smile gracing your features when you both pulled away, and you looked up at him. "How have you been?"

It was quiet for a few moments as you waited for him to answer the question, but eventually, you were met with no verbal response, and instead, Dylan simply shrugged. The short action made your heart constrict in the most painful way, and it was then that you noticed the light remnants of a scar peeking out from behind his dark hair that covered the majority of his forehead. You were quick to peel your eyes away from the scar and instead cast them down at your Converse-covered feet, but that didn't stop the memories from quickly coming back.

The Maze Runner accident had happened back in March, but to you, and you knew to Dylan as well, it felt as if it was just yesterday, especially considering the fact that he was still dealing with the unavoidable repercussions from it.

"Wanna walk?" You asked, finally looking up at him once again.

Dylan nodded. "Yeah."

A silence that could only be deemed as comfortable lingered between them as the two of you took the five-minute walk to the beach and sat down side by side on one of the random empty benches.

"Merry Christmas, Y/N," Dylan said as he handed a present over to you. The present was messily wrapped, something that was not at all uncommon when receiving gifts from Dylan, and the sight of it made you smile.

Before you unwrapped the gift, you pulled out the one you had for him and handed it over. "Merry Christmas, Dyl."

The nostalgic sound of wrapping paper ripping could be heard as you tore into your gift. A simultaneous shocked and happy yelp emitted from your lips when you held up a Harry Potter t-shirt. But, it wasn't just any Harry Potter t-shirt; it was one with a version of the Goblet of Fire movie poster on it, which was your all-time favorite movie in the series.

"Holy shit."

"It's the original merch that was sold when the movie came out," Dylan told you. He hadn't opened his gift yet, and instead, he was playing with the green bow placed on top of it; he always liked to see your reaction first.

You looked at Dylan and then back down at the shirt as you processed his words. "Wow, double holy shit. I would put it on if it wasn't freezing right now."

Dylan laughed a bit. "Very understandable."

“Why haven't you opened yours yet? I'm dying to see what you think of it," You said. You were now holding the t-shirt to your chest, genuinely feeling like a little kid on Christmas morning again.

Dylan finally began unwrapping your gift to him, and when all of the paper was peeled off, there was a square box. "Aw, a plain white box. Thank you so much. This is what I've always wanted."

You rolled your eyes and playfully bumped him with your shoulder. "Ha ha. Please save all of these bad jokes for your stand-up act; I can't wait to boo you off the stage along with everyone else."

"So, what I'm hearing is you don't think that becoming a comedian is going to be the next best career move for me?" Dylan asked. He attempted to make the question sound as serious as possible, but there was a joking undertone to his words.

You bit back your laughter. "Please just open the box already so I don't have to hurt your feelings by truthfully answering that question."

"Okay, we'll circle back to that topic later," Dylan smiled and then finally opened the white box to reveal a slightly faded baseball. When he picked it up, he ran his thumb over the black signature written on it. "Now it's my turn to say holy shit."

You could feel yourself smiling at his awestruck reaction, and you wondered if that was what you looked like when you saw the Harry Potter shirt. The baseball was signed by one of the players of the New York Mets that had been Dylan's favorite player when he was younger, and he'd even caught a ball hit by him when he went to a game before he moved to California.

"I've had this idea for years, but I could never find a baseball signed by him," You began explaining, the excitement clear in your voice. "But, last month, someone named Paul Todd posted this on eBay and I immediately bought it. God bless that old man. It's completely authentic and everything."

Dylan was quiet for a few moments as he simply looked at the baseball in his hands, a small joyful smile on his face, and it made you happy to see him so genuinely elated with the present.

"This just made my gift look like shit," He finally said, a light laugh falling from his lips.

"I have always been the superior gift giver. I think that's my hidden talent," You responded with a playful smirk.

Dylan placed the baseball back in its box and then looked at you. "Next year you will receive the best gift ever from me. It will completely top everything that you have ever given me."

"You're saying that as if I should feel upset about receiving a trip to Italy as a Christmas gift."

"A trip to Italy?"

"In my strong opinion, that would be the best gift ever," You said with a smile and then looked down at the t-shirt, which was now in your lap. "But, anyway, I don't think this gift is shit. I'm in love with this shirt already."

Dylan let out a joking, overexaggerated sigh in relief. "Phew, okay, since you think this gift is great, that means I don't have to do the trip to Italy next year."

"What? Did I say I like this t-shirt? I hate it! Harry Potter actually su— Fuck, I can't say this with a straight face," You laughed, and Dylan was quick to join in with you.

The joking statements leading up to the laughter hadn't even been the funniest things ever, but it didn't matter because this was probably the hardest you had laughed in a while, and you were both glad and unsurprised that it was with one of your favorite people in the entire world.

You missed joking around and laughing with him. You missed simply being with him.

Eventually, the laughter died off, but there was still a smile planted firmly on your face. You looked ahead at the darkness in front of you and the ocean that looked completely black; it was still kind of early, so the sun hadn't begun to rise just yet. Your back pressed against the wooden bench, and you let out a small sigh, your head finding Dylan's shoulder as you leaned against him.

"How have you been?" You asked him, your words coming out both soft and slightly quiet, and before the mood became too serious with your question that was nothing but serious, you attempted to lighten it. "And please no shrugs as a response this time. I don't wanna get a headache due to my head bouncing off your shoulder."

Dylan let out a breath of a laugh at your final statements but refrained from answering the question for a few moments.  

After what felt like forever, he sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair. "I honestly don't know. My mind has felt so fucked lately, thinking about everything. I swear I've been feeling every feeling known to man these past months."

"What are you feeling right now? In this moment?"

"I'm really happy with you. This is probably the only normal and familiar thing I've experienced in a while. But, of course, there's still that confused feeling in the back of my mind revolving around everything else." He paused for a brief moment before continuing, his next words came out quieter. "I don't even know if I want to go back to acting."

You lifted your head off his shoulder and looked at him as you pulled his hand into yours and gave it a light, reassuring squeeze.

"No matter what you decide. I'll be right there to support you," You told him and then added a "bro" at the end of her sentence along with a small smile. Whenever things became too deep in a conversation you two were having, one of you would always throw a "bro" or "dude" in there to bring some playfulness to the mood.

The corners of Dylan's perked up a bit. "So, you'll support me when I decide to become a comedian?"

You were unable to stifle your light laughter. "Yes, fine, fuck it. I'll be the loudest one laughing at all of your shows."

Dylan squeezed your hand back because he knew exactly how reluctantly true your words were. "Don't worry, I promise not to put you through that."

"Thank you."

"So, how have you been?"

"No."

"Oh, come on," Dylan said as he playfully poked your side. "I'm not gonna be the only one exposing my feelings."

You sighed and then hesitantly nodded. "Okay, okay."

The truth was you had been far from good lately. Your life was moving, but for some reason, you felt like you weren’t moving with it.

You felt stuck.

Stuck in a confusing mindset where you had absolutely no idea what you wanted to do with your life. You thought that identity crises usually happened in high school, but apparently, yours had come five years late. But, you knew that this delayed identity crisis had been your own doing because you had convinced herself that you would figure everything out once you were in college; and you were both lucky and smart enough to receive a full ride to UCSB.

And although you were finishing up your Master's degree in Creative Writing and had a TA job at the university with the department, which was the reason behind why you could even pay for the Master's program, something in your "should be great" life simply did not feel right.

However, you felt absolutely terrified to say any of that out loud because admitting it would only finally make that statement a wholehearted truth, instead of just a spiraling thought in your mind. And even though Dylan was your best friend and you knew you could tell him anything and not receive any sort of judgment, it still felt hard to let the words leave your lips.

You thought about the way to perfectly word everything, but nothing felt right. You pulled your hand away from Dylan's and covered your face as you let out an exasperated breath. "I can't figure how to say it all."

Dylan placed an arm around you and then mimicked the same question you had asked him not too long ago. "What are you feeling right now? In this moment?"

You would have both laughed and smiled at the fact that he was using your exact words if the current circumstances were different.

"Scared," You finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know what the fuck I wanna do anymore, and actually, I don't think I really ever did. I only went to college because of the scholarship, and I convinced myself that I would figure my life out when I got there. And for a while, things felt right because I found creative writing and genuinely enjoyed it, but something doesn't feel right anymore. And I actually do like school. Because it's stable, and I am doing things, even if it's taking a dumbass test. But, it's about to be over soon, and I have no idea what I'm gonna do."

Your words were coming out like vomit, and nothing could stop it because finally, everything you had been feeling for so long was out of your head and put into the open.

"And don't get me wrong, I do love to write, but I don't know, I just can't see myself doing it for the rest of my life," You admitted and then let your next words come out quietly. "Honestly, I can't see myself doing anything. I'm so unhappy here."

You did not say it aloud, but you didn't think you were ever fully content there. Aside from Dylan and your parents, you never truly liked California. You had grown up there all your life, and although there were millions of people that adored the state, you felt the exact way someone from a state like Wyoming probably felt.

Dylan did not verbally respond to your long confession at first; instead, he simply pulled your confused and stressed self in for a hug, and you let out the simultaneous sigh and breath that you had been metaphorically holding in for years at this point.

"Maybe you should take a break," Dylan finally said; his arms were still around you, an action that made you feel completely comforted. "Right after high school, you went straight to college, and I don't think you've ever really taken a break to really think about what you actually want. Like, maybe, it's becoming a zookeeper."

Your laugh was slightly muffled by the fact that your face was pressed into the warmth of Dylan's chest. "Zookeeper?"

"I don't know," He laughed too. "You said you would support me in whatever the fuck I decide to do, and I'll do the exact same for you."

Somehow a smile found its way on your face. "A zookeeper and a comedian. What a fucking dream team."

Another laugh fell from Dylan's lips. "The best fucking dream team."

"But, honestly, I wish I could've known sooner that this is how you've been feeling. I would've been telling you to slow down so long ago, but you seemed content with everything," Dylan told you and gave you another light squeeze. "Please take a break and don't stress yourself out over the future when your next semester is over. Just relax for the first time. You can even come stay with me in LA for a little bit if that's where you wanna take your break. I'll be here for you, Y/N. Always."

Something about his words hit you hard. The wholehearted honesty and sincerity behind his statement shouldn't have surprised you, but it did. And the worry he had for you resembled the same concern you had for him when the accident happened. You two were best friends, so it should not have been a shock that you would worry about each other, but still, in that moment and for you, it was shocking because it felt like so much more than just that.

"Me too," You whispered, finally responding to his previous statement.

The long embrace came to an end with you being the one to pull away; however, you did not pull away far enough for you both to become completely detached from one another. Dylan's arms were still around your waist, and yours were still around the nape of his neck, and your faces were dangerously close. Your hand somehow took on a mind of its own as it reached around and cupped Dylan's cheek. The miniscule confusion and tickle of panic that began to prick at the back of your mind because of the action were not enough to make you pull away.

The slight way that Dylan leaned into your soft touch was the catalyst for you to take the leap and lean in the tiniest bit to close the small distance between the two of you, your lips almost too easily finding his. The inward sigh of contentment you emitted when Dylan almost immediately kissed you back made you realize that kissing him was the one thing currently happening in your life that actually felt right.

Later, when thinking back to that specific moment, you would wonder if that "rightness" had always been there between you both.

However, that right feeling, which was both comfortable and familiar, was quickly replaced with dread and angst, at least on your part. Your mind was beginning to fully catch up with your actions, and it immediately told you that the current action was both bad and stupid, and there were many, many reasons that proved that.

Maybe there were moments where a younger, and even present-day, you did want more to happen between you and Dylan, but you would always push that thought away because you knew that your and Dylan's friendship was so much more valuable.

And then it was the fact that your lives were nothing alike. Even though you were immensely confused about where your life was going, you could say for certain that it wasn't going in the same direction as Dylan's; an acting career that he genuinely loved and enjoyed too much to truly give up. Something deep down told you that, and you could feel the truthfulness behind the thought. The holidays were the only time your lives would truly intersect.

You abruptly pulled away, not just from the kiss but from Dylan's body entirely, moving to the edge of the bench you were on. Your hands covered your face in nothing but pure embarrassment and regret, and you wished that you could take back the last minute and a half of your life. And you also absolutely hated that you couldn't help but notice how much colder your body felt now that it was away from Dylan's.

"Oh my God. I'm sorry. Fuck. That kiss— it was a mistake. I'm really sorry." Your words came out rushed and fumbled, and it probably did not make much sense, but you just hoped that there was at least a little bit of coherency with them.

As much as you wanted to look at Dylan, you refused to do so because you knew that you would only see the regret you were feeling written clear across his face.

"Hey, it's okay, Y/N. Everything's fine. Don't worry," You heard him say but could hear the uncertainty in his voice as if he really didn't know if everything truly was fine. And you knew that it wasn’t. It really wasn’t.

The holidays were the only time your lives would truly intersect, and you had just completely ruined that.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know your thoughts <3

((((already potentially thinking about doing a part 2 to this….. but idk…))))

[riali11]

I just posted this on Wattpad, but f it.

Note: This takes place somewhere between AA2 and AA3.

6:00 AM ~ Edgeworth's Bedroom

Ring Ring—

         Miles placed his hand on top of the alarm clock, and began opening his eyes. Phoenix groaned, but ultimately didn't wake up. He slept with his head on his lover's chest, hugging him tightly through the night. Edgeworth, on the other hand, was ready to start his day, and enjoy his time off of work. However, once he tried to get out of bed, he realized the conundrum he was in. If the prosecutor moved, he'd wake up his sleeping boyfriend. He quietly turned on the lamp next to the bed, and tried nudging Phoenix gently, but the latter was a heavy enough sleeper to keep slumbering without feeling any disturbance. Edgeworth quickly acknowledged this was getting nowhere, and figured he could do something to do in bed. He thought for a minute before setting his eyes on the book he had been reading just before going to bed as it sat on top of the nightstand. Sure enough, he grabbed it, and continued where he left off.

           As Miles was getting to the ending of the story, Phoenix started waking up. Despite his eagerness to finish, Edgeworth set the book aside to greet him.

"Good morning, Phoenix. Took you long enough," Edgeworth said, pretending to be annoying.

"Morning, babe," Wright yawned. He stretched out his arms, sat upright, "Say, how long have you been awake?"

"I'm not quite sure actually," the prosecutor turned on the light, and checked his alarm clock, "...three hours."

"Geez! How late did I get up?" the defense attorney asked.

"9:00AM."

"Still an early bird on your day off, huh?" Phoenix commented.

There were a few seconds of silence in which Miles looked for a comfortable outfit in his closet.

"Could pass me some clothes? I think I left some here last time," Nick was still sitting on the bed.

            Edgeworth looked for a couple of seconds before tossing him a pair of white shorts and a pink sweater with a red heart containing a yellow "P" in the center (Yes, it's the one you're thinking of). For himself, the prosecutor picked out a black pair of pants and a dark blue shirt.  The two of them dressed silently before walking into the kitchen.

"What would you like for breakfast?" Miles asked.

"What's easiest to make?" Wright replied.

"Wrighty, we've been through this. Let me make you something special every now, and again," the prosecutor assured him.

"It's fine, I don't want to be a bother, Mi—"

Edgeworth stared Phoenix down, sending a chill down the latter's spine.

"Come of think of it," Edgeworth said, "You mentioned omelette being your favorite breakfast last week. I'll make you some."

"You need to stop giving me that stare, Miles!" Nick whined slightly.

"Oh, my apologies," he turned around for a small moment to pat his boyfriend on the head in a reassuring manner.

           The prosecuting attorney got to work quickly. Phoenix set the table,  and afterwards laid his head on the table as he watched his boyfriend, still slightly tired. The food was finished soon enough, and its maker placed two plates on the table.

"I hope you enjoy, my beloved," Miles sat down next to Nick, speaking softly and letting his emotional barrier down for just a moment,  "I made it with lots of love."

Phoenix smiled, blushing slightly. He cut a piece and took a bite out of his omelette, "Mhm! Have I ever mentioned you're a great cook?"

"You have, but thank you."

Wright jokingly rolled his eyes.

"Cut it out, Phoenix, it's hard to look into your eyes that way."

"How are you always so damn smooth with pick-up lines?"

"I'm not sure," Edgeworth paused, "Then again, it feels good to impress the love of my life. It serves as good motivation to keep improving."

"And you did it again," the defense attorney was still eating as he spoke.

"It's rude to talk with your mouth full, you know? It'd be nice if you tried to impress me with good manners."

"Sorry," Phoenix moved his chair a little closer to his boyfriend, "I'm guessing you already have the whole day planned?"

Miles finished chewing before answering, "Not quite. I wanted to consult you first. However, I do have some ideas."

"Go on."

"Well, it's best to start with plan "a." I thought we could take a stroll through the park, I already have the route prepared for that. Next, we'd go out to eat at the restaurant in front of the pond at twelve o 'clock sharp. After that, we'd stop by at the court and watch a trial or two until seven, and finish the day by going to the movie theater."

"I have a few suggestions," Wright interjected.

"I'm all ears."

"Why don't we just take a stroll without any routes? Just at random," Phoenix started, "And, we don't have to be anywhere at an exact time, right? Unless you have the reservation or something.."

"Like I said, I didn't make any plans concrete. I don't even think the place offers reservations, truth be told," Edgworth commented.

"Yeah, and we probably won't be hungry until later. Breakfast will probably leave us pretty full for a little more time. Then again, we'll know when we're hungry again."

"I made these plans figuring we'd be leaving by eight, but since someone didn't wake up until recently..." Miles vocalized.

"Objection! 9's a normal time to wake up, especially on your day off," Phoenix argued, "Besides, when have I ever woken up that early without work!?"

"Fair enough," the prosecutor conceded, "Anything else?"

"Oh yeah! Why would we go to our workplace during our break?"

"I.." Edgeworth tried to make up an excuse.

Wright quickly figured it out, "You couldn't think of anything else, could you?"

Miles cut another piece of his omelette, and continued eating in silence, which Phoenix took as a "yes."

"It's fine," the defense attorney assured him.

"What do you suggest we do?" the prosecutor asked.

"I know a pretty cool arcade near the park," Nick brought up, "Heard they added a new VR section I've wanted to check out, but I hadn't gotten the time."

"I have never played video games in my life, Phoenix," Edgeworth reminded him.

"Then I'll teach you," Wright smiled even wider than before.

At that moment, Miles knew he couldn't say no. Phoenix was too excited, "I suppose it couldn't hurt to expand my horizons in regards to hobbies. Should we still watch a movie afterwards?"

"Sounds good to me!"

And so, the two had their day planned out ahead of them. They finished eating, washed their plates, and went about a wonderful date.

[reidyoulikeabook]

hi i saw that your requests are open for the night for that list and i feel like 15&35 with spencer might be all i need to survive

anyways i’m on anon bc i’m scared you’ll hate this request but just know your writing is my favorite i would read your grocery lists at this point

excuse me i love this request please do not disparage yourself ever again <3 that’s the loveliest thing anybody has ever said to me and i will now think of you and this compliment whenever i write a grocery list

Ship: GN! (wears a bra, no mention of gender other than this) Reader x Spencer Reid

Warnings: Mentions of canon-typical case things, pining, mild thievery.

Word count: 2.4k

Prompts: #15 - "You’ve just won one free pass to my bedroom.”

#35 - “Well fuck, didn’t expect to be announcing my undying love for you this early in the morning.”

A/N: This got so ungodly long I’m so sorry I don’t even know if I can call this a blurb at this point it’s a full fic but I loved this idea so much and it ran away from me.

PLEASE let me know what you think because I bashed this out in the span of an hour and I’m not sure if I love or hate it.

--

Rossi’s spitballing theories behind you. Your head lolls on the desk, feeling far too heavy to attempt lifting up at this time of night. The case was hard, you were sleeping in shifts, and somehow you, Rossi, and Reid had drawn the short straw. Your eyes are blearing a little too much to make out the exact time on the clock, it’s on the opposite side of the room and your eyes burn when you squint to look at the time; you’re fairly certain you’re somewhere on the wrong side of 3am.

23 hours awake.

Sighing, you push yourself up, looking around and only now noting that Spencer isn’t in the room. He must have made his exit while you were flicking through the files making notes, it was often easier to do that with your headphones in.

Thankfully, you'd set up shop in a conference room at the hotel, given the local PD was tiny and barely equipped to handle its own officers.

“What about the meat packing district?” Rossi muses.

It’s a rhetorical question but one you actually have an answer to, “I don’t think so. The busiest part of the city is between the meat packing district and where he’s dumping the bodies. Cops do random stop-and-searches sometimes, I don’t know if he’d risk it.”

“He could drive around.”

You frown, thinking, “He’d be crossing state lines. Hey, wait,” You stand up from your chair, walking to the board and starting drawing circles that illustrate your point, “Spencer thought there must be a pattern, right? But it died off here and we didn’t know about any more victims. If we expanded the search to outside of state lines it might connect here, here, and here,” You circle each here with a point, tapping the pen against the board triumphantly.

Rossi smiles, “Good thinking kid. I’ll call Garcia.”

Exhausted from your breakthrough, you flop back down into the chair. The clothes you’ve been wearing are icky, uncomfortable with sweat and flying and you’re strongly regretting your choice in underwear now too.

You hear the door swing open, looking up to see Spencer entering the room. Holding your go-bag. The one you’d left on the jet this morning. The jet that was a two hour drive from your current location.

“Where did you? When did you?” Your incoherency is related to both your tiredness, and his thoughtfulness.

He smiles, “It took some calling around but I found a cab driver willing to go and pick it up. It just got here.”

“Spencer I-,” You start, scrambling to your feet to accept the bag he’s offering to you, “Thank you. That’s so sweet of you. How much was the cab?”

“Don’t worry about it,” He says, handing it to you and heading over to the board, “What are these?”

Rossi - who was watching the exchange with some amusement - starts explaining the eureka moment you’d had. Spencer nods along, turning to smile at you when Rossi credits the thought to you. It’s something he does a lot, Rossi’s noticed. Not in a condescending way, Spencer knows more than anyone just how capable you are at your job. It’s as if he needs to channel his love for you somewhere, and chooses pride. It’s the easiest one to explain, after all, because who isn’t happy for their colleague making breakthroughs?

That’s how Spencer justifies it anyhow.

You leave the room, heading to the bathroom to change. You’re incredibly grateful to slip out of your dirty clothes and the bra that’s cutting into you, so much so that you decide to pop on a t-shirt under your blazer. The sports bra and t-shirt combo revitalises you more than you thought possible for this hour.

Digging through, you find an item that you didn’t pack. A pair of brown fluffy slippers. Attached to them, a note, ‘I thought the heels on your boots looked uncomfortable, and I didn’t want your feet to hurt. - Spencer.

He signed the note. Something about that, alongside the gift itself, sends a flush of warmth through you.

He gave you his slippers

So?

Is that something friends do?

Wracking your brain, you try to think up if he’d do this for anyone else. Hotch? The thought makes you laugh. Emily? Maybe, actually. If she didn’t make it so hard for others to take care of her. Penelope? Almost definitely.

Your heart sinks a little, and you distract yourself by fumbling to get your work boots off and the slippers on.

It doesn’t matter it isn’t romantic, it matters that he did it.

It matters to every other person you date

He sets an impossibly high bar

Thankfully, the late hour means that there aren’t many local PD still hanging around to see your interesting choice of shoe. You slip through to the conference room, where Spencer and Rossi are huddled over the phone talking to Garcia.

Spencer does a double-take. He knew the gift he’d given you, but he hadn’t expected to see you...wearing them? You look beautiful: hair mussed from fiddling with it, an old college t-shirt under your blazer, brown fluffy slippers on your feet. The mix of professional and homely attire does something to him that he can’t quite explain, and he has to clear his throat before making his next point to Garcia.

Did he just blush?

You try not to stare at him, try not to see if that’s a tinge of red creeping up under his turtleneck.

It is.

“Thanks Garcia,” Rossi clips, hanging up the phone, “I’m going to go and find some coffee. You two,” He points, looking knowingly between you, “Just keep doing what you’re doing.”

No sooner has Rossi left the room, you both try speaking at once.

“You look-” He starts.

“Thank you so-” You start.

You both tinge with warmth.

“You go first,” He says, gnawing at his plump lower lip, finger turning oer the pen in his hand.

You laugh, a little breathless, “Well fuck, I wasn’t expecting to be announcing my undying love for you this early in the morning.”

His eyebrows quirk, is that...hope?

No. Wishful thinking

It’s probably confusion, and you’re a little embarassed, so you quickly clarify, “I mean Spencer Reid this is the kindest thing anyone has ever done for me. I’m endebted to you forever, really.”

A look washes over him: disappointment? You can’t trust your eyes to see the clock, so you feel you can’t entrust them to analyse his micro-expressions right now either. Especially when you’re biased by personal desire.

“It’s no problem,” He says, voice cracking a little, “You look...” He trails off.

“Unprofessional?” You suggest, teasing.

He shakes his head, swallowing, “You look really nice.”

It’s your turn to swallow. You drop your gaze to the pen, feeling too flustered to continue looking your colleague in the eyes at this moment in time, “Thank you. Where did you get slippers at this time of night?”

He shifts, one hand settling over the wrist of the other and fingers nervously rubbing over the back of his hand, “They were uhm. They were mine.”

“Yours?”

“Yeah,” It comes out pitchy, a squeak, “I’m sorry, that’s probably weird I just thought-”

“No, Spence,” You say, looking up at him and giving him a genuine smile, “No, it’s really sweet. I’m really lucky to have you.”

He gives his signature tiny tight-lipped smile, the one he gives when he’s feeling awkward or suppressing something he wants to say but can’t.

Please let it be the latter.

You relinquish him of the obligation of responding, instead standing to join him at the board, “You think you’ve got enough to make a geographical profile out of this?”

He nods, tapping the board with his pen, “Your idea about crossing interstate lines was really smart.”

“I have my moments.”

He wants to tell you that everything you have is a moment. You want to step closer, to cup his face in your hands, to press a kiss to the lips that you swear are pouting, begging to be kissed. You don’t.

Namely, because Rossi chooses this moment to re-enter the room, clutching three cups of coffee, “A little help here?”

From the way you spring apart, despite not even being that close, he wishes he’d taken a little longer. Damn kids and their inability to express their feelings for one another.

***

It’s 4:30am when the alarm on your phone goes off. With the work of the four of you - Garcia sporadically included when she had genius updates - you’ve managed to uncover a pattern that arches across states. You’d called Hotch, who’d commended the good work and advised that you should head to bed at 4:30. The others would get up then, and start to head out to the different potential crime scenes. Local PD was already on it.

You’d been told under no uncertain terms that you were to rest until at least 10am. Unless there was a call from Hotch. You prayed there wouldn’t be.

Rossi’s off the minute the alarm rings, bustling out the door with a “See you later kids.”

You wait behind while Spencer packs his things into his satchel. Or rather, unpacks his things from his satchel, frantically tearing it apart.

“What are you looking for?” You ask.

“My key card,” He murmurs, “I swear it was in my wallet.”

“You were rooming with Morgan, right? Want me to call him?”

“Yes please,” He says, continuing to unearth the contents of his bag onto the desk, with an increasing degree of agitation every second that goes by.

You dial Morgan’s number, and he answers after two rings, “Hey kid.”

You put the phone on loudspeaker.

“Hey. I’m with Spencer, we’re about to head up to our rooms for the night, are you still here? He can’t find his keycard.”

He lets out a breath of air through his teeth, “Sorry, I’m already on my way to one of the crime scenes. Local PD found a body over the state line. Nobody’s at the hotel but you guys and Rossi.”

Spencer outwardly sighs.

“No problem, we’ll figure something out.”

“Alright, good work kid, get some rest.”

The phone line clicks. Spencer’s brow is pinched with frustration, and your heart breaks for him. You’ve all been awake well over 24 hours, and he looks exhausted. He’s more eyebag than man at this point.

“Do you want me to go to the front desk?” You ask.

He shakes his head, “Reception doesn’t open until 6am. I’ll just wait here until then.”

He starts packing the belongings back into his bag, a resigned look on his face. And you have an idea.

“Actually,” You say, pulling the keycard out of your pocket and sliding it across the table to him, “You’ve just won one free pass to my bedroom.”

He picks the card up, squinting in confusion.

“Me and Rossi both got put in single rooms. I mean, it might not be the most comfortable thing in the world, both of us in a single bed, but it’s better than nothing right?”

He opens his mouth to object, and you shake your head.

“Spence you look like you’re about to drop unconscious on the floor and I don’t want to be responsible for yet another injureid.”

You’re so tired that the pun seems hilarious to you, and it does elicit a small laugh from him.

“Come on, it’s either share a bed with me, share a bed with Rossi, or try to sleep in one of these chairs. And I’ll be honest, I’d be kind of offended if you’d rather either of the other two options.”

“I can sleep on the floor,” He says, obviously warming up to the offer but not wanting to push his luck. You can hear the hesitancy in his voice.

“You can. But you won’t,” You tell him, settling your go-bag on your shoulder, “And might I remind you that all this time you’re spending objecting are minutes we could be spending sleeping.”

That seems to win him over. He tucks everything back into his bag, zipping it up, “After you.”

“You have the keycard,” You smile, “After you.”

***

The bed is a single bed. It prompts another round of ‘No really, I can sleep on the floor’ from Spencer, your enquiries about if it’s too much for his germaphobia or issues with touching, and his blushy embarassed reassurance that he doesn’t mind if it’s you.

He doesn’t mind if it’s you.

Not as if you’ll spend the next year mulling over those words or anything.

When you get out of the bathroom from changing, Spencer is tucked up in bed. Well, you say tucked up, but he’s practically lay right on the edge. How he’s actually physically still being supported by the mattress at this point must be his physics magic.

“I thought I said I didn’t want you getting injured,” You say, crossing the room to him.

He opens his eyes, “I didn’t want to-”

“It’s okay Spence,” You tell him, huddling down into bed.

There’s about enough room for you both to fit in, with an inch between you, so you pull gently at his arms, urging him closer.

“There’s enough room for us both without you going flying in the night,” You tell him.

He nods, obviously still a little nervous. It’s odd, lying face to face with him, illuminated only by lamplight. He looks soft. He always does, but there’s something intimate about this. You can feel his breath fan across your cheek, can feel how heat radiates off his arms.

“Do you want me to turn the lamp off?” He asks.

It’s not your staring that implores him to ask, because he’s been staring at you too. The both of you, trapped in a perfect bubble of a moment. Lamplight a spotlight, highlighting all the features of the person you love most.

“Sure,” You whisper, breath catching in your throat.

He flicks it off, settling back down.

His breath brushes against your face when he asks, “Do you want me to turn around?”

“Do you want to?”

He hesitates for a moment, voice even softer when he answers, “No.”

It’s dark. You can hardly make out his outline. Yet somehow, you both just know. Shifting, infitismally closer. Breaching the tiniest gap between you somehow feels like crossing the Grand Canyon. Your heart thumps in your chest, and you can feel it in your fingers, the fingers that trace cautiously along his jaw.

His mouth finally, finally, slotting against yours in the most gentle of kisses. A blink and you’d miss it.

And yet, in the same blink, your life changes forever.

When Rossi makes a speech at your wedding, he admits to being the thief of the missing keycard, and intentional orchestrator of the greatest love story he’s ever known. His words.

---

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(message/reply to this to be added or removed!!)

[forever-rogue]

hi 🥺 can i have "It's lonely here without you" from list 2 with Jack? 🥺 if possible some hurt/comfort situation? love you 💖

Hi bb, you can have whatever you want 🥺💕

Agent Whiskey x Fem!Reader ; warnings: none

Pedro Characters Masterlist 

»»————-　♡　————-««

You sighed to yourself as you looked around the dark, empty bedroom. It was early still, and the day was just breaking over the horizon. The sky was an inky blue, melding into orange and pink as a new day was beginning. Birds were softly chirping outside the window, traffic was starting up, and the world was slowly waking.

And yet you wished you weren't. Not alone anyways. 

You missed him. You missed Jack. Everything about him - his smile, his laugh, his touch, his kiss. Every little thing about him was so golden and after having been in his glow for so long, it was hard to go with it. It was for work, missions sometimes called him away for extended periods, but it was always hard.

Reaching for your phone on the nightstand, you quickly unlocked it and scrolled through your notifications, swiping away most of them. Only one really caught your attention - a very early good morning text from Jack. A smile tugged on the corners of your mouth as you read over the text and some of your previous conversations. Jack was the epitome of an old man when it came to texting, but damn he tried, and he never failed to make you smile. Your favorites were always the silly selfies he sent in his down time.

Gods, you hoped he would be back soon.

I miss you, you quickly typed out, it's lonely here without you.

Before thinking too much about it, you quickly sent it and turned the phone upside, burrowing back into your pillows. They still smelled like him no matter how often they were washed - not that you minded. 

It was only a few moments before the phone vibrated. Surprised by the quick response, you snatched it back up and hastily opened the message.

Get up, your brow furrowed at the cryptic message, go to the kitchen.

You quickly replied - what?

Just do as I ask for once, Sugar, without any sass.

Fine!

You beamed at his message, still confused as to what he meant, but decided to indulge him. Pushing back the warm, plush blankets you slowly climbed out of the bed, letting your feet hit the carpet with a soft thud. You grabbed a nearby sweater, which just happened to be Jack's, and pulled it on before slowly padding downstairs and to the kitchen. The house you shared with your husband was decently sized, but when you were alone it felt gigantic and cold.

You were humming to yourself as you walked into the kitchen, stopping dead in your tracks as you spied a large bouquet of your favorite flowers on the counter. Your face lit up as you walked over to them, completely forgetting that you should be worried about the fact that mysterious flowers had appeared in your kitchen.

You looked for a card or some of indication of their origin, touching a few of the soft petals. Unfortunately, you found nothing. No card, note, anything until - 

"Hi Sugar," you almost jumped out of your skin as you looked around the flowers and found Jack grinning back at you. You almost squealed in delight as you ducked around the corner as you threw yourself into his arms. He held you tightly, easily wrapping his arms around you as you buried your face into his chest, "hi baby, I've missed you so much."

"Jack," you pulled back to look at him, studying his face, watching as his soft brown eyes crinkled with his smile. You touched his cheek, watching as he keened into your touch, "I've missed you too. I didn't expect you back so soon."

"Maybe I pulled your leg and said I was going to be gone longer than I was," he teased as he kissed you softly. It was easy to melt into his touch, to get completely lost in him, "I wanted to come and surprise my favorite girl."

"Whatever for?" you asked softly as your heart fluttered gently. Gods, you were so in love with him, and you couldn't imagine a life without him anymore, "I don't think I've missed anything...its not our anniversary...no plans? Why…?"

"I didn't think I needed a reason," he insisted with a gentle shake of his head, "I just don't want to be away any longer than I needed to be. And I figured this would be a nice little surprise. I know how hard it is for me to be away from you, and I imagine its the same for you…"

"I detest even being away from you for even a day," you promised, "anything longer is practically torture. I was thinking about stowing myself into your luggage this time around."

"A most welcome surprise that would have been," he swiped his thumb along your cheek before kissing you again. He hand went to the back of your neck as he held you close and you wrapped your arms around his neck, breathing him in. If you could have stayed like that forever, you easily would have, "I love you."

"I love you," you trailed a few kisses along his jaw before going back to his lips and giggling as his mustache tickled your lip. You always teased him for it, claiming it would look ridiculous on anyone else, but it worked for him. And it did - of course he looked handsome without it, but there was something about that was just so...him.

"I suppose I do have one thing I've been wanting to tell you," he cleared his throat as you pulled back, a worried expression etching onto your features. He shook his head fervently before tenderly cradling your face in his hands, "no, no, no, sugar, don't worry - it's nothing bad!"

"Jack! You can't just spring something like that on me," you pouted at him, sticking your bottom lip out as he chuckled softly, "out with it! What is it?"

"Well, I was thinking," he started and immediately held up a finger to your lips to silence you. He knew you well enough to know that you were about to make a sassy comment, "I know its a shocker, but hear me out."

"Sorry baby," you grinned at him, "go on."

"I know we've talked about it and I was just thinking...we've been married for a while now and well, if we're serious about starting a family in the near future, I want to be home more," you listened carefully to his words, but you couldn't help yourself as a grin stretched across your features, "I don't want to miss a thing, and want to be here for everything and I think its time I took a step back from statesman. Besides...I'm not the same young man I once was."

"Jack," you put your hands on his broad chest as you tried to blink back the years that threatened to well up. You'd been waiting to hear those words for some time, although you never would have told him that. You knew how much his job meant to him and you'd never have thought about getting in the way of that. But it never stopped you from worrying about him, even if he was one of the best and most seasoned agents. He was your Jack, and you'd always worry - but this? This was everything, "do you mean it? I'd never ask you to do such a thing, baby. I know how much it means to you."

"I want to do this," he promised gently as he wiped away the single tear that had rolled down your cheek, "for myself and you and whatever else comes down the road. You are more important than anything else."

"I...I don't know what to say," you said softly as you could already picture long leisurely days with Jack at your side and in the near future, maybe a baby of your own, "besides the fact that I love you so much. You mean more to me than you will ever know."

"I'm hoping you'll say it sounds like a good idea," he almost seemed nervous as he searched your eyes for approval. It hadn't been a rash decision by any means, but he hadn't quite discussed it with you before making the decision to significantly cut back his duties. He didn't think you'd have a problem but still… "or otherwise I'll feel like an old fool."

"Of course it sounds like a good idea," you promised, gently carding a hair through his dark locks, "you continually make me the happiest woman. I don't know what I did to deserve you-"

"Oh Sugar, I think its the other way around," he insisted gently, "after...everything with...I never thought I'd get the privilege to love again, or to meet someone like you. You came into my life like a tornado, but I wouldn't change a thing. You have made me believe that there is good in the world, that there is a reason to get up every morning and be the best. I don't think you truly understand the magnitude with which I love you."

"A gentleman and a poet," you whispered as you wrapped your arms around his middle and held him close, "if we weren't already married, I'd say that sounded like a proposal."

"Well, I suppose it is a proposal of sorts, I propose I work less hours and spend more time with you," he teased, "if you'll allow it."

"Always," you beamed at him, "but right now I have a favor to ask of you."

"Of course," you reached for his hand and started to tug him away and towards the staircase, "we go back to bed and be lazy and spend the day doing nothing, "its still so early."

"Well my plan had been to make coffee and breakfast and surprise you with it," he admitted and if you it was possible to be anymore in love with him, you would have fallen in love then and there, "but someone was up early and I couldn't keep a secret."

"I couldn't sleep," you confessed softly, "I missed you...and there's been a lot on my mind lately."

"Oh?" he seemed concerned for a moment before you shook your head to let him know it wasn't anything serious, "everyone's alright?"

"More than alright," you grinned, "let's go back to bed and I'll tell you everything. We can make breakfast - later when the world is actually awake."

"Now you have me intrigued," he admitted as he let you pull him along upstairs. His hand was warm around yours as he held tightly onto it, the simple action causing a warmth to settle all over you. Jack was home and he wasn't going anywhere - what more could you want?

"Its nothing to worry about," you promised as you thought of the little surprise you had for him stashed away in the drawer of the nightstand, "just come with me and hold me and sleep. I've missed you."

"And I have missed you greatly," he paused at the landing of the stairs before pulling you into his arms and kissing you until you were practically drunk off of his touch, "my love."

"And I you," you nuzzled your nose gently against his, "now come on, let us be lazy and relax. Tell me everything about your trip and I'll tell you all about what happened since you've been gone…"

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[meloswifeyyy]

Relationship Alphabet

A - Attitude

Who often has the worst Attitude ?

Well, you obviously. Most of the time because you are hungry or you and Melo just got out of an argument. Melo usually fucks the attitude out of you anywhere, anytime tho.

B - Baby

Who wants Babies the most - first ?

Melo. He often jokes about having kids or when you are having sex he would whisper in your ear  “You trynna have my babies?” or  “You boutta have my babies ” when he nuts in you. He says that he wants 3 or more. You only want 2. You arent rushing into it.

C - Crying 

Who Cries the most in the relationship ?

You. You often cry alone when you miss Melo when he is at away games for so long. Or when your BP triggers, Melo would comfort you. When watching sad movies, or when someone you love dies. Tears of joys appear here and there. Or when you get into arguments and Melo says something wrong or disrespectful out of madness.

D - Dates 

Who has the best Date spots ?

Melo. He would often take you to fancy restaurants in L.A or Miami, or wherever you guys went. Or take you shopping at an expensive place. He would do dates at home like watching movies, have you cook dinner because he cant cook for shit, or he would have a bath waiting on you. 

E - Eat 

Who Eats the most ?   

You. You know damn well you cant survive without food. Its the 2nd best thing that has ever happened to you besides life and Melo. Cant even survive a night. If you would wake up in the middle of the night and get hungry and go to kitchen and try to sneak some food without waking Melo up, he would hear it and go to the kitchen and scare you, picking you up over his shoulder with one arm, and with the other putting the food away carrying you back to the bed because its a little to early in the morning to be eating. 

F - Freak 

Who is the Freakiest ?  

Both of you. You being the only girl that can fuck Melo like you do, and being the only girl Melo is sexually, physically, and mentally attracted to no other girl can do it like you.10/10 in bed. Now Melo on the other hand is a demon in bed. His strokes, hitting your G - Spot constantly with you feeling it in your guts. His 9 inch is almost  always on hard when he is around you. And his tongue is crazy, going in and out and on the pearl AT THE SAME TIME. Crazy right. Spelling his name out on you. He loves when you scratch his back up or give him hickeys everywhere. 10000/10. Makeup sex is the best. 

G - Games 

Who wins the most games ?  

Melo. He would always dare you to a game of Call of Duty or Fortnite to see who would win first. And he would always win. When you would play a game of Uno you would often win and he would be mad the rest of the day due to his competitiveness. But any other game he would win.

H - Happy

Who is the Happiest in the relationship ?  

Both of you. You are always happy when you guys are around each other. Even when you guys just got done arguing you are still happy that he is in your presence. Melo on the other hand is always happy with you around him, he loves to cuddle with you. Its one of his favorite thing to do. He just loves that you are in his presence. You are his other half.

I - Irreplaceable

Who is the most Irreplaceable ?  

You would say Melo but Melo would say you. Melo knows how to deal with you more than anyone else does. He knows all your spots and what you like and dont like. He notices all of your flaws and sees the good and beautiful in them. He knows your body, mind, and soul. No man has a better or brighter or bigger smile than him. He always brightens the mood. You on the other hand are different. A big beautiful smile. You know how to deal with Melo when he is sad, looses a game. You can tell when he is lying or telling the truth just by looking through his eyes. You know how to make him happy. You are the best he has ever had.

J - Jaded 

Who gets the most Jaded after doing something ?

Melo. He usually gets really bored after sitting in the house all day. He really wants to leave the house and do something fun but usually its night time and you would be taking a nap or would be sleep. 

K - Kisses

Who gives the most kisses?

Melo. He is always so clingy and that comes with all the kisses in the world. He kisses you all over your face in your sleep, even when you are sleep he gives you kisses. He loves to kiss all over your body.

L - Love

Who fell in love the fastest?

Melo. He had always had a crush on you and everyone knew you were the one for him. You just didn’t know it until you two started dating. He’s always making sure you are good. He loves your hugs. He was the first one to say “I love you”. He want kids you to have all 10 of his kids.

M - Motivation

Who gives the most motivation?

You. When melo is going to a game and is not having a good feeling about it you motivate him to push through it and win for you. 9/10 he will win or get a lot of points for you.

N - Night Owl

Who is more of a Night Owl?

Both of you. Sometimes when his ADHD is on 10 you guys stay up and listen to music, play games, go on ig live, or just fuck for 7 hours straight. Sometimes you have to tell him to got to sleep or put him to sleep (😏) because he has a game tomorrow and needs all the rest and energy he can get. It also the same for you.

O - Oral Sex

Who gives Oral Sex the most?

Melo. Trust me, you give him head a lot and it’s amazing, 10/10. But melo loves giving you head. He loves to spell his name out on you. Loves to see the faces to make you scream and shout. Loves sharing your cream with you (🥲). He loves to climb under the blanket while you are sleep for some breakfast in bed. Maybe even dinner. His lips make it even better. So glad he don’t got them white genes in his lips (😋😭).

P - Perfect

Whos perfect?

Obviously, no ones perfect but God (🙏🏾). But in your eyes no one else is better for you except melo. You couldnt imagine living life without him. Cant imagine what anyones elses kids would look like with you but. No relationship is perfect. Melo sees you as perfect. Your body. Your style. Your personality. He absolutely loves your touch. He loves touch but for you loving your touch is an understatement. He couldnt imagine his kids with anyone else but you. Cant imagine getting married with anyone else. When you guys get into arguments and sleep in seperate rooms. You barely get sleep because all you can think about is each other. How perfect you guys are for one another.

Q - Q? (Cant find a word, Tell me one and ill edit it.)

R - Relate

What traits do you guys have a like each other?

A lot. Both of your favorite food is Chicken tacos. You both love a good game of Uno. You both love sex. Duhh. Both of you guy’s love language is touch. Love playing fortnite together. Love listening to music and taking drives together. Both love lil uzi (we pretending yall💀). Just in general you guys are very alike.

S - Sex

(No question for this one lol. Y’all already know how we is round hea nahhmeannn😭)

The sex. Omgggg. The first time you and melo had sex was. So amazing. Can’t ever forget that moment. Melo is always so horny. Morning sex is the best. Sometimes a little top at the red light can turn into a few rounds in back of the McDonalds parking lot. Lucky enough all his windows tinted as hell. Or in the Victoria’s Secret fitting rooms. You guys could be listening to Chris Brown and he would really take you down, fuck you back to sleep, switch up the tempo, or make you wet the bed (i’m laughing hard ash). The hickeys. The high sex. Drunk sex (drunnnnkkk in lovvveee). Car sex. Balcony sex. All over the house sex ( i got bars.) Mad sex and Make up sex. I could go on. Sex with me so amazinggggg. (i was listening to this song while writing this one💀😫😫😫)

T - Trips

Who likes taking trips internationally?

Melo. He love to take you and a yearly or even monthly vacay. Just you and him. Turks and Caicos. Bora Bora. Jamaica. Iceland. Japan. Africa. Anywhere where you can get away from the world. The different places. The hotels. Being able to fuck anywhere and everywhere. The pools. The different air. (united states ait is so boring). The new food. The animals. You guys love the new places. He loves to see you happy and with a smile on your face.

U - U (Cant find a word, Tell me one and ill edit it.)

V - V (Cant find a word, Tell me one and ill edit it again.)

W - Right the Wrongs

Who rights their wrongs after an argument?

Usually it would be you first. If you said something that was out of pocket or melo didnt like you woukd quickly apologize. He would forgive you and still cuddle and kiss you and stuff because thats what he does. Tease you. But he would ignore you until he actually forgave you in his head. Melo would apologize and give you some bomb ass d for and apology. Or make that cute face that you can’t resist.

X - (Can’t find a word for X. Give me a suggestion and i will edit it)

Y - Young

Who acts like a Young ass child?

Both of you actually. That’s what makes you love each other the most. The laughs and jokes, the tv shows, everything you could think of. It’s nothing wrong with it at all. Y’all are always gonna bust a joke out at the right time. Maybe sometimes even the wrong time. (damn, double homicide). You guys love laughing with each other.

Z - ZZZ

Who has the worst sleeping habits?

Probably Melo. If you scooted over him even a little bit, he would probably scoot back closer to you or pull you back over to him. And the only con of that is he snores a lot. (Why this nigga snore with his mouth open?🤨💀). Sometimes if he was awake and you werent he would kiss all over you. He loves to lay on your 🍒.

Y’all welcome. I haven’t pose the one of these in a minute. This took me a whole month and a half. I’m tired as hell. 💀

[sweetberrysmooch]

HC: And There Was Only One Bed (Affectionate) [pt. 2]

(Zzzzzzz…..)

(Alright, second part done :V Not much to say here for now, but I hope you’re excited for the upcoming part to come out next ^^ And my ask box is always open, so feel free to drop in and chat any time! I’ll be seeing you :D)

Basic sleeping hcs with ya boys, and for a part two, outside home life? You’ll see what I mean lol 

Characters: Quackity, George, Badboyhalo.

Warnings: Nightmares in Quackity’s part, but besides that we’re clean <3

Song Recommendation: Metamodernity- Vansire

Up Next- Sapnap, Philza, Fundy, Schlatt. 

Enjoy your day guys! I do hope it be rockin :]

Quackity:

Quackity is one floppy motherfucker. You fall asleep with him spooning you, head nestled between your shoulder blades, hands holding yours in front of your middle, legs entangled, the whole shi-bang, but wake up with him starfishing half on the mattress at a weird angle that makes his neck sore for the rest of the day.

Each day is a new position for you to add to your ammunition of teasing against him, but he takes it in stride. He totally doesn’t wake you up halfway through the night by flinging himself over your middle, ‘asleep’ and snoring like a freight train. When you give up halfway through trying to stop him breathing and just fall asleep lying on his chest, he turns to mush and gets distracted playing with your hair. You don’t know why he seems so exhausted the next morning, and he only giggles dreamily at you when you ask.

While he’ll be the big spoon for as long as you want him to, there’s a special soft place in his heart for being the little spoon. Hold him, please. Pull him to your chest and gently run your fingers through his hair, rub his back and kiss every inch of his face until he’s down for the count. The easiest way to make him feel better after a bad day or an argument is to let him know you want him and love him. Just holding him at night guarantees that he’ll bring you a present the next day (like the inner stardew valley house husband he sometimes longs to be lmao).

It’s a 50/50 chance of waking up with Quackity or after him, seeing as he prefers to get up early to enjoy the quiet mornings before the rest of the smp wakes up. He gets ready, makes the both of you coffee (or tea, something to help wake you up), and watches the sky change color while he waits for you to come sit with him in the kitchen. The two of you try your best to assure a moment together before you go about your separate ways, sitting together and talking about what you have planned or what you might have for dinner later. It’s his favorite part of the day, aside from coming back home to your awaiting arms.

Another citrus-y smelling fellow. More orange than lemon, he bathes in the morning after he wakes up. You typically wake up right after he gets finished washing up, walking into the bathroom to hear him quietly humming while drying off his hair and wings. He’ll give you a small guilty grin and a good smooch on your forehead as an apology.

Another poor fellow with nightmares;; They’re a lot less frequent than they used to be now that you’ve gotten together (having someone to talk to and work through each others issues does WONDERS apparently) but when they hit, they hit him hard. You wake up from him twisting and turning right before he wakes up in tears. He doesn’t like to be touched afterwards, drawn in on himself and facing away from you, hiding his crying. When you leave to get him a glass of water and come back, he’s more grounded, crawling into your arms and accepting the drink gratefully. With his forehead pressed to your throat, taking small sips from his cup, he’ll tell you what his dream was about. Sometimes it’s Technoblade, sometimes Dream, mostly Schlatt though. His ex lingers on his mind more than he likes to admit, a deep sense of abandonment showing through his nightmares. Quackity struggles with sleeping for a few days after, afraid of what he might see when he closes his eyes again.

(You’ve fallen back asleep by now, hand paused in its ministrations and resting snugly in his hair. Things are warm and quiet and soft, and he feels safe again. 

The nightmare still hovers fuzzily in the back of his mind, but for now he can ignore it, focusing on your slow breathing as it lulls him back to sleep. 

His last thought before finally letting himself rest is how much he loves you, giving you one last squeeze in his tight embrace before relaxing into a much more stable slumber. ‘Gracias por todo mi amor.’)

George:

Impeccable skill of just falling asleep wherever and whenever. Before the two of you got close and started sharing a bed together, he really left his sleep schedule up to fate. He’d find a comfy spot and crash there for a few hours till he was awoken and would just repeat that a few hours later. Now that he has you, he makes more of an effort to stay awake during the day so he can sleep through the night next to your side. It more or less works, but occasionally he’ll have slept during the day and he wakes up in the middle of the night. As “punishment”, he sentences himself to waiting it out instead of getting up to do something because he truly wants to keep going to bed with you.

Not big on contact, likes having his space when he’s sleeping. Cuddling is nice every once in a while, but he prefers being able to breathe a little bit when falling asleep. He does, however, actively make the choice to hold your hand while he slips into slumberville. His grip isn’t too strong, nor is it very light, but a gentle mix between the two to try and remind you how much he loves you. You’ll wake up before him and his hand will still be holding yours, pulled to his chin as he sleeps. His breath fans your knuckles slowly, face eased of any stress, absolutely content.

George bathes…… probably. I’m just kidding, he fluctuates between bathing at night or in the morning because he just goes through phases of forgetting to when the time comes. His little mushroom home doesn’t come with a bathroom, seeing as its wholly empty (please if anyone has housing information on George or like. Any character at all please inform me please i beg-), so he’s limited to getting clean at a friend’s or your house. Typically yours. He keeps all of his valuables at your place once you start letting him sleep over there, tucking his clothes into your closet or in your dresser when he thinks you aren’t looking, leaving a toothbrush and his soap in your bathroom, hanging his armor up on an empty armor stand you have tucked away, all due to his inability to straight out ask if he can live with you.

It’s not like he doesn’t want to live with you, he practically does anyways, but there’s something in him that worries that you won’t like him if you’re forced to live with him permanently. He knows it can become… a bit much when you have to be around someone 24/7, but doesn’t realize that you pretty much already are around each other 24/7 lmao.

It takes a while but eventually he settles down and over dinner suggest that maybe you two should take it to the next level. His face is flushed pink and he keeps switching which leg he has crossed, but he takes your hand and quietly asks if he could start living with you. It’s a surprisingly sweet moment, even with your confusion (thinking you already DID live together), and of course you say yes.

He looks so relieved when you accept, and is kinda like, “I know this will be a difficult process but I’m very excited to become closer with you.” and then nothing changes ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

(It’s on the walk home when George finally processes that he now lives with you. It feels heavy on his heart, a mix of nervousness and excitement that makes him swallow hard and tighten his fingers around yours. 

This isn’t the first time he’s spent the night at your place, nor is it the first time he’s crawled into bed with you and slept next to just because you let him, but it is his first night actually living with you. The moment feels brand new, as if it’s his first time visiting your house all over again. 

He begins to wonder if maybe this was a mistake, maybe he’s moved too fast and maybe your regretting letting him live with you already and- He takes a hurried look at your face. You look… unbothered. Happy, even. 

There’s this half hidden smile on your face that soothes his anxieties, drawing out his own fragile smile. He can’t wait to live with you.)

Bad:

Mmmmm, big man warm. A natural heat machine, no need for lots of blankets or heavier pajamas, Bad will take care of all your cold problems. Every night after you finish your shared nightly routine, you curl up in his arms, immediately becoming over come with his toasty embrace. It like when you get clothes out of the drier and just hug them to your chest, the warm, clean, smell good experience that Bad also delivers.

He’s got a pretty ingrained nightly schedule that he sticks to, and he always invites you to join him after you finish up dinner. It starts by cleaning up the house a little, washing the dishes, setting aside clothes for the next day, taking a quick bath, brushing his teeth, reading a few chapters from a new book he’s picked up, and then settling down to go to bed. He won’t push you to do it with him, but he does try to incorporate you into his routine when he can. Usually it’s just by doing something small, like reading together or massaging your shoulders, but sometimes he’ll ask you to join him when he bathes.

Bad bathes pretty often, always at night, and using a nice smelling soap that he makes himself. Like what was said above, he’ll sometimes ask you to join him when bathing. It’s not ever for any naughty means, but because he sees bathing as a very intimate and vulnerable activity for you to share. He won’t push it, understanding that it can be overwhelming to be so open, but if you do choose to join him, he’s so gentle with you. His hands are worked and calloused, but they’re soft when they run soap through your hair, his nails lightly scratching your scalp and running down the back of your neck. He practically purrs when you return the favor, giggling as your hands brush sensitive spots around his sides. Afterwards he becomes so cuddly and attached to your side, you fall asleep with him curled up on YOUR chest, trapped under him.

That being said, most nights he takes to being the big spoon. It’s more for convenience sake, seeing as he’s a good few feet taller than you are, but he also can appreciate being held and loved on after harsher days. He’s a lot like a weighted blanket, a nice heavy weight that keeps you warm and makes you feel loved <3 love this guy.

Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how you look at it), you sometimes have.... Visitors. Bad is a hub for the homeless, bored, and nutty members of the smp. They flock to him like birds to the elderly, which means you have “children” to take care of for a day or two at a time :/. Dream and George aren’t regulars, per say, but Bad has a room set aside for either of them when they come over. To their credit, they do try to be polite when they come over, and will help in cooking dinner or cleaning up. Skeppy, however, is unlike Dream or George, in that he’s more of a third partner in your and Bad’s relationship.

Skeppy up and appears at random, no announcement, and makes himself comfortable any place where Bad is. Be it at your home or his, Skeppy eats your food, lounges on your furniture, hell, he even sleeps with you and Bad at night. You two share Bad’s chest whenever Skeppy is over. It’s so jarring at first, having to deal with having another boyfriend (because Skeppy will consider you to be apart of the thrupple after introductions), but he usually only stays for like 3 days before leaving to do whatever else he has planned. You don’t know if you should be worried or upset or what, but after a while it becomes kinda nice to have him around.

All in all Bad is great to sleep with <3

(Bad blows the lantern out on his bedside counter, shuffling under the cover beside you once the room was fully dark. You slung an arm over his chest instinctively, cuddling up into his side when his arm pulled up around your back and held you even closer. 

You shivered pleasantly when he gently pressed a kiss into your hair, becoming sleepier and sleepier with each rise and fall of his wide chest. He sighs quietly and squeezes you, murmuring softly to you as you both fell asleep. “Goodnight, sweetheart. Sleep well.”)

Have a good evening! Do something nice for yourself tonight. You deserve it.

[lune-hime]

Wakey Wakey (Chocobros x Reader)

For you, your chocobro, and coffee. 

↞Noctis↠

Coffee doesn’t do anything for sleepy boy Noctis.

I’m serious, it has no effect.

But does this really surprise you?

In highschool, when Noctis was struggling to stay awake studying for his astronomy midterm, Ignis suggested he drink a coffee with an extra espresso shot.

Nothing.

Then Ignis brewed another cup, this time with 2 espresso shots.

Nothing.

3 shots

No change.

6 shots

The prince’s eyes are still drooping.

8 shots.

And now his head is lolling to the side.

Ignis’ limit was 10 shots as he did not want to send the boy into a caffeine coma.

But to his surprise, and utter shock, when he returned to Noctis’ bedroom 15 minutes later the prince was knocked out and drooling over his textbook.

The future adviser didn’t know whether to be impressed or utterly concerned.

No matter how early or late you wake up, you will always rise earlier than the prince on most days.

So needless to say 99.9% of the time you are getting your own coffee.

If the Insomnia weather isn’t horrible, you prefer to slip on your sneakers and walk to the nearest chain coffee shop.

The gentleman he is, Noctis is ever insistent he pay for your coffee even when he’s fully immersed in slumber.

Now equipped with a steaming americano, you waddle back to your shared apartment, chasing away the frosty autumn air with the steam of your drink.

Crawling back in bed laptop in hand, you have a chill morning until you have to get ready for class.

Noctis’ arms are immediately around your waist like there is a magnetic force drawing him to your warmth through his unconscious state.

↞Prompto↠

Definitely a coffee drinker, although the bouncing bean doesn’t need anymore energy than he already does.

In fact, you have to constantly limit his caffeine intake because when he has too much, he becomes too much.

His tolerance level is the polar opposite to Noctis; load more than one espresso shot into that boy and he is a vibrating mess.

He’s even more talkative than usual, touchier than usual, and wants nothing more than to drop everything and go out on some spontaneous adventure.

He is the epitome of a distraction.

Not that you would mind these things otherwise, but right now the two of you are trying to push through mountains of readings for your college classes.

And his foot keeps accidentally kicking you in the shin, to which he responds with profuse apologies and sheepish grins.

On road trips he will pull off to cute cafes along the side of the road. He knows that you will be needing your second cup for the day around 4 pm and plans accordingly.

He definitely did not research it ahead of time and will vehemently front that it is just a coincidence.

Knows your order by heart, even if you have multiple orders.

“You want an affogato right Y/N? You know, I affogetto where I am when I’m with you.”

The affection (albeit a chuckle at his cheesiness) that swells in  your heart drowns out the groans of your friends as they eagerly await to jump back into the regalia with their drinks.

His thoughtfulness just makes the trip all the more special.

↞Ignis↠

Let’s just say the two of you are a match made in coffee bean heaven.

He wholeheartedly supports your coffee addiction as he completely understands the need for caffeine.

The two of you go on an immense amount of cafe dates, to the point that you have entertained the idea of opening a coffee shop from the sheer amount of time you spend in these establishments.

This is partly because being a college student calls for lots of cafe time but also because the two of you just love the atmosphere.

You have a favorite coffee shop a few blocks from your university that you have become regulars at.

When Ignis finishes work at the Citadel he pops back to the apartment to change and grab any extra work he needs to tackle before meeting you at your favorite place.

Cafe Ignis is best Ignis.

Sure you love his silken dress shirts and custom tailored (and bless the six just the right amount of tight) dress pants, but you are ever love to see the other side of the crown’s advisor.

Seeing your Iggy in his knit sweater and jeans is a truly delightful experience.

And although you both are swamped with work, the atmosphere allows you to unwind and just bask in the presence of one another.

Every so often he brushes a loving hand over yours.

Or a chaste kiss to your cheek when he gets up to use the restroom.

His head rests snuggly atop of your shoulder when you ask him to proofread a particular paragraph in your essay.

Knows whenever you need a refill.

Before you can drink the last drop of the golden liquid, he’s already up and ready to order you another grande cappuccino.

And he will stay with you the entire time even if he finishes early because he knows how stressful work can get.

The two of you should really find a 24-hour coffee shop.

Could Ignis ask for anything better? I think not

↞Gladiolus↠

Not a big coffee drinker as he is a strong believer that caffeine will mess with his hard earned physique.

Supports your addiction but will never admit that he has discreetly tried to get you to cut down on your dosage.

Will follow you to your favorite coffee shop after your morning run with no complaints.

Though he will tease you about how you should have drank the caffeine beforehand because you ran so slow.

“Shouldn’t you be drinking water instead?”

To which he gets a playful jab in the ribs.

“Coffee is my water.”

To cool off from the work out the two of you take a detour through a park, the smell of hazelnut mingling with amber gazes and warm embraces.

If  you decide to skip the morning run, Gladdy will never fail to bring you a cup back on his way home.

Who could say no to awakening to the tantalizing smell of vanilla and featherlight touches.

Akin to Ignis, Gladiolus is never opposed to chilling with you at a coffee shop.

He loves it actually, because it's an excuse to do two things; read and be with his love.

The shield is a busy boy so moments like those are ones he cherishes.

He brings his book, you bring your homework.

Prompto isn't the only one who is good at photo taking.

Gladiolus is the master of sneaky photos.

He adores the way your brow lightly crinkles when your wrestling with what is the angular acceleration of the disk if its mass…

The candidness of the image brings a genuine smile to his face and roaring laughter from his chest when you struggle to confiscate the image from across the table.

Something that he would never admit to, though, is sometimes he does indeed sneak a few espresso shots in before a sparring match.

He knows you would tease the hell out of him if you knew.

He is right.

[theyoutubedork]

Coworkers

Part 2 out now!

Masterlist

Word Count: 1.2k

Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Finally getting a month to yourself after an undercover mission, you go to the park a few blocks away. But someone on your left scared you half to death.

Warnings: Mention of a kind of screwed up book but my actual sister read this book and I thought it’d be fun to add.

This could a potential series so let me know if you’d be into a Captain America: Winter Soldier era fanfic.

Spring has finally arrived, and you couldn’t have waited any longer. Winter has gone on way too long for your liking, and you’re finally ready to go outside. You finally got to fulfill your craving of having the sun warm up your face. Thankfully, you were in a comfortable climate during spring.

Living in Washington D.C was the last place you thought you’d move to, but it definitely has its perks. Mainly, it’s parks. God, the natural scenery was to die for. Your favorite was the Lincoln Memorial. You fell in love with the giant water feature, that seemed to stretch for what looks like miles. You loved the way the scenery reflected off of it. Especially when colorful leaves drift on top of it. But it’s not fall, it’s spring.

You decided early this morning that you would visit the Lincoln Memorial, jumping back into your seasonal routine. You lived only a few blocks from there, so you decided to go on foot. You slipped on your dark green trench-coat and your purse and walked out the door of your apartment. You started walking your way down to the park. You let the familiar sights on your route flood back in, since you’ve been gone for a decent while.

You finally got a month to yourself after being on a undercover mission for your new job at Shield. Well, you’ve worked there for a year and a half, but they finally promoted you from pencil pusher to part-time pencil pusher to who would’ve guessed, part-time spy. You just finished your first undercover mission which wasn’t really much. You didn’t get to see any action, which was disappointing, but you helped intercept a pretty large illegal weapons trade. You were told that you’d have to wait a month before going on a another mission. You were given absolutely no information, so you guessed either they had some stupid policy for new agents, or they wanted to make you stew for a month, thinking about all the things you could’ve done wrong that caused this suspension-like break.

You finally break out of your thoughts when you stop next to the tall white traffic light on the sidewalk. You finally arrived at the memorial, right across the street. You quickly glance to your sides, and took your time walking across the street, given that it was 6 am and barely anyone was awake. Thankfully, you were still suffering from jet lag after being in a country many hours ahead, for a few months. No more sleeping in till 12 on weekends.

You finally cross the street and start following your usual walking path. You liked walking around for a bit before sitting down to read, a new habit you’re trying to pickup. You had a new book recommendation from your sister, someone’s who is well seasoned with her taste in books. The book was nestled into your purse, the same copy that your sister read. You pulled it out scanning the face out it, lightly sifting through the pages. You let out a small smile. She had told you that she wrote in annotations, and you had brought a pencil, ready to respond to her thoughtful annotations with cheesy jokes and dumb observations. You couldn’t wait to send it back to her.

After a few minutes you spotted a few runners like usual, all staying on the grassy paths that were well away from where you were walking next to the artificial pond. You never understood why they would pass up on seeing your own reflection as you walked through the beautiful capital.

That’s why it scared the ever loving shit out of you when a tall figure ran right past you, making you let out a small yelp of surprise as you accidentally let go of the book. Quickly, the figure snapped back to catch the book, saving it before it fell right into the pond. Your vision finally trailed from the book, to the hand holding it, connecting to one gorgeous arm and– oh my god his body was gorgeous. His biceps were basically screaming in his under armor shirt. And those navy sweatpants hugged his hips amazingly. Don’t even get started on the abs. You finally look up to his face and suddenly your face heats up from not only the sun.

Of course it had to be Steve Rogers. The Captain America. The Avenger who had now caught you ogling his body, with your book in his hand and a small smirk on his lips. Your mouth went bone dry trying to think of something to say. Thankfully he filled the silence,

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” he apologized. He glanced down your figure not so subtly, before he quickly flicked his eyes over to your book.

“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t even hear you coming.” You laughed nervously, gripping onto your purse strap as if it would help anchor yourself to reality. This man was too fucking distracting.

“‘One Hundred Years of Solitude?’” He questioned, flipping the book in his hands to read the back of it, “Seems awfully sad just by the sound of it,” he muttered. You let out a small chuckle, making his face turn up to yours. He smiles at the sound of your laugh. He likes it.

“I couldn’t agree more, but my sister, (S/N). is forcing me to read it because she hated reading it,” you say, taking the book back into your hands as he offered it to you.

“Why would your sister make you read a book she hates?” Steve questioned with an even larger smile on his face.

“I don’t know, maybe for some kind of torture?” you pondered as Steve barked out a laugh as you continue, “But she says the second half is good. Plus, who doesn’t love a shitty read once in a while?” You say with a bit more confidence, earning the even louder laugh from Steve like you were hoping for.

“Can’t argue with that, but now that I know your sister’s name, mind giving me yours?” He says with a small twitch in his lip. You feel your cheeks heat up again,

“Oh yeah! I’m (Y/N). (Y/N) (L/N) in case you were wondering” you stammered, cursing yourself right after. Jesus Christ, get it together. ‘In case you were wondering’? Are you kidding me?

Steve chuckles at your nervousness and puts out his hand to shake.

“Well in case you were wondering, I’m Steve Rogers,” he quips playfully. You shake his hand lightly, trying not to have him notice how clammy your hands were.

“Yeah I know, but it’s very nice to meet you, sir” you accidentally let slip the formality. His eyebrow quirked upwards,

“No need to call me sir, Y/n” he reassures. You laugh,

“Sorry, I’m an agent at S.H.E.I.L.D, so I was guessing that you were probably my boss or something,” you rambled.

“I’m pretty sure I’m not, maybe coworkers is a better term.” He suggests and you nod with him. Don’t wanna have a crush on your boss, that would not end well. After a moment of silence you sigh.

“Well, thank you, for saving my book,”

“No problem, just make you sure you tell me about that second half, have to know if it’s as good as (S/n) says it is,” he says, slowly walking backwards to start resuming his run. You heart fluttered in your chest at his words.

“I’ll see you around, coworker,” you tease, wrapping the book into your arms, pressed against your chest with a smile on your face. Steve gives you the most beautiful smile as he breaks into a jog,

“Nice meeting you, coworker,” he grins, fully turning to run down the length of the pool.

[sneezefiction]

of night owls & early birds

Kuroo x Reader

desc: Kuroo, your roommate and longtime best friend, likes you but he really dislikes your sleep schedule. alternatively, your crush gets up way too early and you “suffer the consequences.”

a/n: the irony of working on this fic at 5 am doesn’t escape me… but it also hasn’t assuaged my awful sleep patterns. i hope you enjoy!!

warnings: school/general anxiety, crass/offbeat humor (jokes about planning your own funeral), idk if you’re scared of love don’t read this - it’s very fluffy.

wc: 3.6k

--- You’re screwed, you think, as a light flickers on just outside of your room. It illuminates the carpet underneath your doorway with a warm orange tint.

And though it shouldn’t make your heart jump into your throat, it does.

You’d promised, swore to Kuroo, that you’d be asleep by 2 am - and to him, even that was a stretch. But he should count himself lucky that you’d even agreed to his demands at all. 

After all, he is well-versed in the world of night owls.

Kenma, though maybe not your kindred spirit, shares at least a couple of qualities with you. Kuroo likes refer to these “qualities” as crimes.

One of these crimes (and quite possibly Kuroo’s least favorite) is your god-awful sleep schedule. And you’re a repeated offender.

There was only so much nagging and bickering you could take before you’d cracked and told exactly him what he wanted to hear. In a flurry of words, you’d agreed to turn off your laptop, close up your textbooks and actually put your head to a pillow.

You also may have been bribed.

To sweeten this deal, Kuroo had promised to buy you pizza this upcoming Friday, given that you actually did get some rest.

But as you reluctantly lift your phone, the glass screen glowing a little too brightly, you realize that it’s already 5:30 am.

You grimace.

It’s Tuesday morning. Meaning that the repetitive beeping across the hall is Kuroo’s alarm.

Your lips press into a firm line. Most birds don’t even get up at such a godless hour.

You can’t help but wonder what it’s like to have a functional morning routine. Or a morning routine at all.

Leaning back in your plastic desk chair, you squeeze your eyes shut. 

It stings.

You probably got so caught up staring at the blob-like words on your computer screen that, somewhere in the process, your body had forgotten how to blink.

And while the tension in your neck and shoulders is painful, it’s nothing in comparison to the festering guilt of not listening to your longtime best friend and now roommate (a suspiciously well-intentioned college boy who had somehow managed to win your heart over the course of this fall semester.)

Thinking back, working on your final English assignment at midnight wasn’t the brightest of ideas. It wasn’t even due for another week. But as due dates loomed, the impending fear of a bad grade had begun to burrow deeply within you.

If you could just pump the brakes on deadline anxiety, you wouldn’t feel so pressured to type incoherent sentences at odd and empty hours of the night.

And maybe Kuroo wouldn’t feel the need to coerce you into a firmer sleep schedule. Though you do find this caring habit of his to be inexplicably endearing. 

Thus, the prickling feeling continues to infiltrate your restless mind and the brewing concoction of anxiety and guilt in your tummy makes you feel uneasy.

But before you can sneak into bed and tuck yourself inconspicuously under the covers, you hear a floorboard creak. 

As if on instinct, you hold in a breath.

Kuroo isn’t one to forget about little promises. Of course, he’d want to know if you’d made good on your side of the deal. 

Gently, you close your laptop and swivel your chair to face the door. You still your movements, keeping your body taut against the back of your chair.

More soft steps fall just outside of your room.

Your eyes can’t pick a place to land, so they choose to wander. And with a quick scan of your room, it doesn’t take you long to realize that your bedside lamp had been left on - an instant giveaway.

You begin planning for your funeral. 

However, if it were up to you, you wouldn’t go out this way. You prepare yourself for death by interrogation or shame-induced coma.

Regrettably, neither options seem very interesting to you. If you ask politely, maybe your friends will engrave a portion of an epic poem into your gravestone just to make your passing seem more sophisticated. Yeah, that sounds nice and pretentious.

Okay, you might be overdramatizing things - Kuroo would never send you to your grave. But that doesn’t change the fact that your psyche likes to play tricks on you in the wee hours of the morning and that the eerie quality of the atmosphere somehow reminds you of a cemetery.

As you sort through who-gets-what on your will, there’s a not so sudden knock on your door. The soft tap makes your heart skip for two reasons:

The first being that you still haven’t gotten used to the fluttering in your chest from him being present all the time. Developing a crush on him (and suspecting feeling on his side) had made you a little jumpier over the past few months.

And the second had to do with the fact that you were actually going to have to talk to him about this. To apologize for being a bold-faced liar. It wasn’t clear to you whether you’d be teased or reprimanded. And honestly? You’re not sure which option would feel worse.

So you take a breath and steel yourself.

“Y/n?” A gravelly voice sounds from outside your room.

It’s tainted with sleep. You shiver.

There’s a preemptive sigh, “C’mon y/n, your light is on. I know you’re awake.”

You’ve been caught, so there’s no point in prolonging it.

“...You can come in.” You reply meekly, clenching and unclenching your fists.

The door cracks open.

That soft orange hall light floods into your room and directly into your eyes. With a squint, you try to fully visualize Kuroo. He’s positioned himself so that he’s leaning in your doorway with his arms crossed.

Before coming to grips with the situation, you scan the boy up and down. Amusingly, you realize that he has to duck his head just to fit underneath the door header - he really is tall. You have to wonder if he’ll ever stop growing.

Aside from his intensified bedhead (which doesn’t shock you) and the sleepiness in his eyes, he looks normal. But you must look positively spooked, because the moment he sees you, there’s a flicker of humor in his golden eyes… and an almost invisible smirk.

At least he isn’t angry. That fact alone allows you to let out the breath you’ve been holding in. Anger isn’t really a trait you’d ascribe to him anyway.

“It’s funny…” He wonders aloud, “I thought we’d agreed to something yesterday.” Kuroo brings a mocking hand to his chin in a thinking motion.

Your body naturally begins to shrink into your seat. You want to sigh, protest, explain yourself… anything to keep him from lecturing you. But, technically, you deserve this. 

“I’m pretty sure you promised me you’d be in bed, asleep,” He emphasizes “by 2 am…”

“And” he adds, motioning evenly to your set up, “I highly doubt you’re up early just to get work done.”

You bite your lip while gripping and releasing the fabric of your sweatpants.

Kuroo isn’t a mind reader by any extent, but the body has a language of its own. Right now, your actions are murmuring signs of discomfort. And exhaustion, according to your dark circles.

Kuroo heaves out something between a sigh and a yawn before he takes another couple of steps into your room. 

The sound of mattress springs and rustled bed sheets gets you to turn your head toward him, though you hesitate to meet his gaze.

He makes himself comfortable.

This is a familiar scene, Kuroo invading your space. Well, it’s less of an invasion and more of an unspoken agreement that the both of you can ‘come and go as you please’ in regards to bedrooms, granted that the “invader” knocks first.

Essentially, if Kuroo wanted company, he would find his way to you and plop himself on the edge of your bed. You would do likewise. The interaction could last 5 minutes or 3 hours depending on your mental stamina that day.

In a way, it mimicked your childhood - going over to Kenma’s and knocking relentlessly on his bedroom door until he finally let you and Kuroo tumble through the doorway together. The only difference now is in the way that you spend time together. Conversations become deeper a lot faster. Belly-laughs after a miserable day of classes are considered sacred. Study sessions are done shoulder to shoulder and with a myriad of disgusted faces when frustrated with a particularly tricky problem.

But this is different from your usual conversations. It’s sickeningly early, you haven’t slept a wink, and a tidal wave of stress from this entire semester is finally crashing into you.

“I’m sorry,” You start softly, fiddling with your fingers, “I just… I couldn’t stop thinking about this expository essay I’ve been working on and my mind is totally numb. I’m so stressed out by all of these-”

“-Classes.” He finishes for you.

You swallow, bobbing your head softly in confirmation.

 “I get it.”

And just by looking at him, you know he understands. For someone so laid back and put together, Kuroo’s eyes could speak a novel��s worth of emotion and information at any given moment.

“But you’ve already spent more than enough time on it.”

Have I really? Have I actually done enough? Because it feels like I’m failing. Like I can’t seem to finish what I’ve started. I can’t even complete this paper.

But at least Kuroo sounds resolute. 

He’s stating a fact, not an opinion.

And he’s not trying to be unempathetic. He does get it, he really does.

But Kuroo also sees how hard you work already. And he knows all too well that there’s only so much work you can get done in one night. You’ve got enough on your plate even without your classes, so having the extra academic pressure is just the cherry on top.

“Mm,” you hum, “yeah, I guess you of all people would know.” You hunch over and rest your elbows on your thighs, using your hands to prop your head up.

He’d been there at your most and least productive moments. On days when you were cranking out a few thousand words and nights when you could only jot down a few sentences. Hell, Kuroo had even volunteered to help you edit and format it when the time came. What kind of person offers to do that before they’ve even been asked to?

It’s just another feature of his charm, you suppose.

But you still feel stuck. Like you’re a boat stranded in the middle of the ocean and you just can’t seem the muster up the strength to pull up the anchor. The anxiety lingers.

“...It just doesn’t feel like it’s ever enough, y’know?” You breathe out.

There it is. Finally out in the open.

And Kuroo hums thoughtfully to himself.

He’s been there.

Not knowing if the effort he put into his work was having any actual effect. Being unsure as to when he should stop taking responsibility for something. Putting work, classes, and people before himself.

It’s draining; a swirling spin-cycle of exhaustion.

But he’s also been learning that “enough” is subjective. So he decides to say just that.

“Enough is a pretty vague word, don’t you think?”

You blink. 

Yeah, you suppose it is. 

Hopefully this isn’t another one of his bizarre epiphanies - the kind that makes you think your brain is going to implode. Sometimes Kuroo could be a little too philosophical for his and your own good. But you humor him anyway.

Shifting in your seat, you give him a stiff nod.

Satisfied with your understanding, he proceeds with his thought.

“What I mean is that we probably have totally different definitions of enough...” he drawls on, “... and different standards too.”

“Okay...”

“What I mean is that-” He sighs, running a hand through his hair, “-what’s ‘enough’ to you may not be ‘enough’ to me. And vice versa.”

Kuroo tilts his head back, brows furrowing in thought. He’s grasping for the right way to put it.

“Y/n, I think you’ve done enough. You’ve worked hard,” he points out, “and I don’t think I know anyone who deserves a break more than you do.”

That makes you pause. You lift your head up to catch his gaze - his eyes are already studying your expression. Something inside of you stops functioning because never have you seen such raw sincerity. Or maybe you have, but you’re only just now noticing it.

He gives you a gentle smile. It makes your chest ache.

“You mean it?” You half-whisper.

“I wouldn’t lie to you.”

You’ve known this for years now, but Kuroo truly has a way with words. They had the ability to pierce like a harpoon or stick sweetly to you like warm honey. Even with a few (thousand) shitty jokes littered throughout your conversations, it’s only natural to be awestruck by him. By his ability to make even the most awkward of situations a little more bearable. How he subliminally knows how to soothe and temper you. You think he would make a really great businessman - he’s quite persuasive; a real salesperson.

One part of you wants to apologize to him again. Another part wants to jump up and kiss him. To tear up and cry in his arms with relief. You chalk these potential reactions up to exhaustion and hormones… but you don’t write them off entirely.

Because suddenly being 3 feet apart feels like miles. And your bed is looking terribly comfortable.

“Mind if I join you?” You ask, but you’re already moving from your seat.

He gives you an indifferent shrug - though he feels anything but.

“It’s your bed.” 

Oh, you’re well aware of that fact. You can already feel heat rising to your face.

You stand up slowly, raising your arms to the ceiling in one final attempt to stretch. Then softly, you place a knee to the mattress and wedge yourself on the rest of the way until you’re sitting crisscrossed in front of him. He shifts his torso so that it’s facing you.

And now that you’re finally eye to eye, you can breathe.

He may be your crush, but you feel strangely comfortable in his presence. You always have. It’s part of what makes Kuroo... well, Kuroo. He embodies security while still pushing you out of your comfort zone. And for that, you’re grateful.

You break the silence.

“I really am sorry,” you echo your earlier apology.

You undoubtedly are. And you’re not sure why it feels like such a heavy thing to say over something as menial as a good night’s sleep.

“Hey, hey,” He soothes, reaching a hand over to ruffle your hair, “it’s no big deal, alright?”

You send him a half-hearted glare but it immediately breaks into a soft smile. His hand lingers for a moment longer than it should before he draws it away. You miss the teasing touch.

It’s becoming increasingly difficult to maintain eye-contact, but even as you look away, you note that his eyes remain concentrated on you. You can’t tell if it’s you who has moved closer or if he has. Either way, those few inches of distance have narrowed by a decent margin.

“I honestly just wanted you to get some rest. You’ve had it rough and by the looks of it-” He scans your face like he’s trying to diagnose you with something.

“Hey, watch it-” You warn, narrowing your eyes.

You already know you look tired. Kuroo loves reminding you of that in his own little way.

He smirks playfully, continuing anyway.

“-You could really use the sleep.” Kuroo’s raspy voice trails off.

“But apparently even pizza isn’t a convincing enough strategy.” He gives you a lopsided grin.

You shake your head, “Oh no, no, the pizza was very convincing.”

He scoffs, “Was it, now?” Raising his eyebrows in mock surprise, “Because you seem very awake to me.”

“Can’t we just blame this on the paper, please?” You sigh.

He furrows his brows in contemplation, “Hmm, no. I don’t think so. This is partially your fault.” A rather underwhelming response.

“A small part.”

“I’d say it's fifty-fifty.” He reasons with a raised eyebrow.

Rolling your eyes, you respond, “Okay, you can quit whatever-” You gesture to his expression, “this is.” He always managed to pull the strangest faces and you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of making you laugh.

He snorts, “Oh? I thought you liked-” Kuroo gestures to his own face, “whatever this is.”

His voice has a curious edge to it. Some might even call it flirtatious.

And you go quiet. 

You can’t help but stare at him. His messy hair, his barely parted lips. The fact that Kuroo just woken up and somehow still looks this attractive to you is so annoying. So frustrating.

And words are failing you.

It was an innocent comment. He’s just messing with you like he usually does. Maybe this has all gone a little bit too far. You should probably just say good night (or good morning) and rest your eyes.

Yet you can’t shake the feeling that this could be the perfect segway into addressing your relationship.

At literally any other time of day, you might be more rational. You could reason with yourself that this is quite literally the weirdest time to bring up your feelings for him. But something in you needs to close the literal and figurative gap between you two. And, for some indecipherable reason, it has to happen right now.

Whatever the outcome, you trust that Kuroo will always be your safe place.

So you throw caution to the wind.

“Actually, Kuroo…” You begin, staring at your hands which are placed neatly on your lap. “I really do.”

His eyes snap to yours.

This time it’s Kuroo’s turn to go silent in contemplation. Taking in a steady breath becomes an act of labor.

“You… really do what?” He asks slowly, grasping for your intended meaning.

Your heart pounds.

“I really like you.” You clarify.

It isn’t at all eloquent, but it’s sincere. You’d once heard that honesty came easier late at night, but you had no idea that it applied to early mornings as well.

But you finally make sense of the words that just escaped your lips. Panic arises. In an attempt to hide, you bury your face in your hands. You wish you could put the words right back into your mouth.

“I-” You take a deep breath, “I think I spoke without thinking.” Is all you allow yourself to mumble.

You no longer trust yourself with words. 

Your face, your whole body really, feels like it’s on fire. Humiliation begins to wash over you in red hot waves… but you startle when a pair of hands meet your wrists.

You lift your head.

His fingertips are warm and worn. Still decorated with calluses from his years of volleyball back in high school. You want to question why the world has withheld this touch from you for so long.

He lures your hands away from your face, grasping both of them gently. For a sensation so new, it was somehow strikingly familiar. A thumb is meditatively tracing small, slow circles in the middle of your palm.

You gawk in disbelief… and as you scan his face, you catch a hint of pink on his cheeks. You can’t say anything though - your own face feels like it’s just become 1000 degrees warmer.

“I kinda figured you might,” Kuroo breaks the tension rather… bluntly.

Of course he did, wait what?

“But the thing is…”

Is this some sort of rejection? Is he just letting you down gently? Is that why he’s holding your hands like they’re as fragile as fine china? Then why is he looking at you so sweetly, so tenderly-

“I wanted to be the one to say it first.”

You start planning your own funeral again. 

However, this time, emotional whiplash will be your stated cause of death. At least it’s a more unconventional way to go out.

“I- uh,” you swallow, “w- what did you just say?” It comes out as a stammer. 

You’re squeezing his hands a little too tightly. When you recognize your modest death grip around his fingers you loosen your hold.

Kuroo smiles, his eyes crinkling slightly.

It’s nothing like that cunning smirk that you find annoying, yet so adorable. It’s also not one of his full-scale grins. It’s far too simple and reassuring. You almost don’t trust it.

“Well, in short, I like you too,” He re-explains, searching your face for a reaction, “but... I’d hoped to tell you that over pizza on Friday.” Kuroo looks away.

If you weren’t already gaping over his personal confession, you would probably be laughing at this new side of Kuroo. He looks unmistakably bashful.

It takes you a second to recover, but you finally open your mouth to respond...

But you’re cut off by Kuroo, once again. His softened expression is long gone. And, much to your dismay, he’s suddenly shifting himself off of your bed.

“It’s just too bad you didn’t keep up your end of the bargain. I guess that means there’ll be no pizza… no movie… no me.” He slowly releases your hands, knitting his brows together to feign sorrow - it looks hilariously forced, but you’re too worried about the warmth leaving your fingertips to care.

He’s teasing you like you’re his best friend.

And that’s because you are.

So then why does it feel like something’s changed? Like he’s daring you to make the next move?

Before he can pull away and leave, you tug at his hand which draws his whole body toward you.

Your heartrate spikes through the roof. When’s the last time you’ve been this close to someone? To a guy? A guy who’s shown actual living, breathing interest in you.

And he’s in your face.

Close enough that his scent, his cologne, is drowning your senses. Close enough that his breath is fanning faintly against your cheek. Close enough that you know there’s only one thing left for you to do.

Before you can think to hesitate, your lips are brushing up against his.

Intuitively, he brings his hands to your face, closing any extra distance. 

Kuroo’s thumb feathers over your cheekbone, stroking it tenderly. His lips apply very little pressure and it’s unbearably delicate, but it fills you with an indescribable warmth. His lips linger just long enough for you to detect the mint from his toothpaste - he can probably taste the cinnamon tea you’ve been sipping on over the past hour. As far as kisses go, it’s reserved, but perfect for this distinct moment.

Plus, you figure, this is just the first of many longer, more eager kisses - though you can’t imagine being more breathless than you already are right now.

But you can hardly get another taste of him before those warm hands on your cheeks are prying you away. He stares. You stare back. His eyes are brimming with something warm and full. You immediately choose to label it, “affection.”

And in a much lower voice, Kuroo murmurs, “Let’s save this for later.” 

You scan his face, wondering if he’s actually serious. He gradually makes his way off of the bed and onto his feet and before you can protest, Kuroo is speaking again.

“You-” 

He leans down and gingerly lifts your chin with his fingers. The gentleness of his touch almost makes you flinch, but you somehow manage to hold it in the road. Though now you’re really at a loss for words.

“-need to get some good rest.”

He places a chaste kiss on your forehead.

You still feel it after he pulls away. After he closes the door. After you’ve laid you head down on your pillow in shock.

How does he expect you to fall asleep after all of that?

---

extra: this is dedicated to Izzy - our sleep schedules may be jacked up, but i’m pretty sure it’s a blessing in disguise if we’re taking our time zones into consideration. thanks for making me laugh & for not stealing my quarter of the braincell.

and to my precious friends and followers - thank you for being patient with me. it’s hard to post or even write at the moment, but i’m steadily pushing myself toward a better mindset. i appreciate your comments, likes, and the fact that y'all even bother to check out my works in the first place. i’m working on it.

also happy birthday, Tetsu. you’re a real star.

[sweatersstyles]

apricity

(n.) the warmth of sun in winter

this is my gift for miss clara (@harryandhockey​) for @meetmymouth‘s holiday gift exchange! clara bub I hope you enjoy this and have a lovely day today filled with lots of wonderful things ❤ also huge thank you to @tbslenthusiast, @bfharry, @meetmymouth, and @sunflowers-styles for being my amazing beta readers and helping me to make this a lovely gift for clara. I appreciate you all so much!

It’s Harry’s kisses that wake you, feather light against your skin at first, starting with your forehead and working his way down. Lips pressed to each of your eyelids, your nose, your mouth, the edge of your jaw, and your neck. You stir awake just when they venture further down across your chest and then down to dip in between the valley of your breasts. You keep your eyes closed and try to delicately push him away, silently begging for more sleep.

“Wake up, angel.” 

He traps your hand in his, stops it from making contact with his face, kissing across the back of it.

“Harry…s’still dark out.” You whine, voice still heavy with sleep.

“Not for long, c’mon. Made y’some tea, s’gunna get cold.” 

“I’m gonna be cold if I get up.” 

“M’not gonna let that happen. Promise.”

You attempt to burrow back under the warmth of the covers, hands reaching to tug the front of his shirt to lure him back to his usual spot next to you. He’s being impossibly stubborn this morning, pulling himself just far enough out of reach so that only your fingertips brush over his chest. You know by the sound of his voice when he speaks again that he’s already off the bed and you groan at what you know is coming next.

“C’mon, lovie. Want you t’watch the sunrise with me.” He’s gently unraveling the blanket from your grip, standing over you on your side of the bed.

This isn’t the first time he’s nudged you out of bed this early, and knowing him it certainly won’t be the last. You know if you truly wanted to stay in bed, he would let you, leave you alone and drink the tea himself so as not to waste it. 

“Can’t we just..watch from the window in here?” You bring one arm up to cover your eyes now that he’s pulled the blanket away. Even though there’s no light streaming through the curtains yet, you don’t want to catch that bright, pleading glint in his eyes. You couldn’t resist him no matter how hard you tried, a fact you currently hated he was aware of.

“View’s better from the big living room window, you know that. Told me so y’self at least a dozen times before.”

Right. Not only was he charming, he had a collection of anything you’d ever said stored away to use against you at opportune times like this. You had a weakness for very few things; the sky and the man standing over you now being two of the objects you held the most adoration for. 

“Fine,” You toss the covers off, sitting up and throwing your legs over the edge of the bed, trying your best to summon your most annoyed look to send his way, “I’m up.”

“Hey,” He pokes your cheek where your dimple would be if you didn’t still have that adorably disgruntled expression painted across your face, “Mornin’, grump.”

“Mornin’.” You return, blinking rapidly to try to clear your eyes. 

His thumb works over your bottom lip, pulling it back just enough that it makes a slight “pop” when it returns back to its proper place. That earns him half a smile from you. To him, it was a triumph, and he retaliates with one of his own. His is full, stretching his lips wide and upwards with his dimples shining down at you.

That’s all it takes to have the majority of your irritation fading away. By the time you’re on the couch facing the window, tucked away under a fluffy blanket he’s just pulled from the dryer and a warm mug of tea in your hand, you’ve all but forgotten why your brain would even dare to crave more sleep. Why would it when it could wake up to something, someone as perfect and loving as the person snuggled next to you now?

Despite the warmth surrounding you, a shiver rolls over your body. His arms open almost as if on reflex to wrap you in. He takes the mostly empty cup of tea from your hands to place it on the coffee table in front of where the two of you sit, gently guides you to rest your head on his chest, tucked under his chin like you were created to be his and fit so perfectly there. These two simple acts of love had a warmth radiating through you like you’d never felt with anyone else. You’re certain even if you tossed away the blanket this feeling surrounding you now would continue to keep you warm. 

You tilt your head up slightly to place a single kiss to his jaw, and he returns the act of affection by pressing one to the top of your hair, staying there for a minute longer to inhale the sweet scent of you. His better half, his love, half of his heart existing outside of his body. You can’t help but release a deep, long sigh from your mouth, a mixture of relaxation, comfort, and overwhelming love washing over you. 

Harry knows exactly what to expect once he feels you relax against him, knows it won’t be long now before your eyes are slipping closed again and your mouth is dropping open with soft snores against his skin. He rubs one large palm up and down your back a few times before moving to your arm and repeating the same motion there to lull you further into bliss. 

He doesn’t even mind that you sleep through the actual rising of the sun, he just craves the weight of you on his chest and your heart beating against his own. It’s enough for him to observe two of his favorite sights in the same moment; the sky slowly preparing itself for the day ahead and you, hand now clutching loosely to a handful of the fabric of his hoodie. 

Disturbing you is the last thing he would ever want to do, but he would never forgive himself if you woke up later with any complaints from the awkward angle he had allowed you to sleep in for too long. Your pillow was better suited to support your head and he tenderly begins to wake you again, this time with the intention to guide you back to where he pulled you from an hour before.

He’s quick to get the covers tucked back around you so as not to lose any more warmth than you may have on your short walk back to your shared bed. This time he doesn’t pull away when you reach to tug him closer, he’s happy to be lured back to the warmth of the comfort of your body sleeping peacefully next to him.

Just before his own eyes drift shut, he catches a glimpse of your face in the sunlight shining through the curtains, decides that you were wrong; the view is much better from here. 

[undead-merman]

Yo this is the person who asked about Monster Dia and Barb, I just want a monster that suits them best.

Alright, I’ve got Barbatos as a Naga and Diavolo as a Dragon

Obey Me Headcanons (Monster Edition) 🐲Diavolo🐲 and 🐍Barbatos🐍 as Yanderes GN - Reader SFW 

Diavolo

Appearance

Diavolo is a proud dragon. He stands much taller than most in the Devildom. His large human figure stands at ten feet tall.

His skin is covered in dark maroon and gold scales, most of them centered around his face, chest, and legs. His legs resemble a dragon’s more than a human’s with three wide toes and long black talons.

He has a long prehensile tail as well tipped with a tuff of black fur and lined with large black plates sticking up dangerously.

His horns and teeth are long and fearsome, his fangs always manage to hang out of his mouth and his smile can be just as lovely as they are terrifying. His horns are always adored with gold accessories, usually in the shape of: golden skulls, torn wings, and blood red rubies.

In his True Form he stands taller then any building in the Devildom and with a wingspan capable of casting a whole city in darkness.

Diavolo’s build is much bulkier in this form, mostly seen around the jaw, and wings. His wings contain rougher and sharper scales and contain some of the black plates his tail has.

His Hoard and His Breath

Diavolo’s bed chamber also doubles as the Royal Treasury. Since his draconic nature craves hoarding wealth he has a need to sleep amongst the treasure.

Every morning he spends his first hour of awakening, sitting amongst the hoard, fiddling with gems and Grimm in his clawed hands, immersing himself in the candle lit room of wealth. Afterwards, he gets up to drink tea with breakfast while reading the R.A.D Newspaper.

He gets anxious and grumpy if he can’t be near his hoard for too long. Barbatos has to help make time in Diavolo’s schedule for Hoard Breaks.

Whenever he pleases, he’s able to breath massive plumes of black hot fire and streams of red lighting. Everything in its wide path is reduced to ash. It gets wider the angrier he gets, and it’s believed that if he truly was ever to get enraged, he could destroy the entire Devildom.

Spending Time with You

Diavolo is captivated with you to the point of obsession, needing you by his side at all times, though knows you need some freedom. Despite his instinctual anxiety of you having autonomy, he knows he could easily dispose of anything should it ever threaten his position with you. Anyone who makes you doubt him, or try to lure you to their side, he would make sure there is no trace of them left.

You are often given gifts, his form of courting you even if you’ve already tied the knot. Gifting you outfits and jewelry made from the finest gold and purest gems. He does this because he now considers you the center of his hoard, the paragon of his wealth, treasure and triumph. He wants to coat you in beautiful fine things.

He enjoys you touching the scaly parts of his body. It feels nice to have your soft warm skin on his cool scales. If you're not against it he’d enjoy you grooming him, it's relaxing.

He loves to have paintings of you made in different beautiful outfits in graceful poses amongst fantastical locations. He likes to sit with you as you pose for the artist and just talk. He adores this special time with you.

You’re the one in existence that has the right to join him in his hoard, and he thoroughly enjoys the time he spends with you in his hoard, which feels more complete with you amongst the jewels. If he had it his way, he would forget about everything except you and his treasures.

His Dark Tendencies

He has such a deep infatuation with you that he would do anything to have you. Though he doesn’t want to force the feeling onto you, instead he does it in secret, keeping up the perfect prince image for you as much as possible.

If he sees someone he deems a threat, he’d make sure they’re taken quietly and dealt with far away from you so there's no possibility you could ever see it.

Sometimes if they’ve made him angry, he’ll take the perpetrator to a private hunting ground so he can hunt them down and eat them himself, making sure not even the bones are left.

He had a wing built onto the castle just to house the thousand portraits he had made. He’s slowly overtime made it into a museum dedicated in all of your splendor. Glass encased objects of random things you had given to him, ranging from birthday presents to random cans of vending machine black tea.

He has stolen a few of your clothes, a uniform jacket or tie. He likes to fall asleep with your scent in his nose.

Diavolo doesn’t punish you at all, you can do no wrong in his eyes, only others can mislead you. He wants you yourself to fall in love with him, you have to learn by yourself how much of a perfect match you are.

Misc. Stuff

Despite being a Dragon with such fierce fire, Diavolo loves to fish in a sized down version of true form.

When he gets too excited his tail wags like a dog’s. He’s been known to have knocked over a few things with his tail when you or Lucifer came to a party or ball of his.

His eyes turn reptilian like in his humanoid form when he gets upset, or when he wakes up in the morning and is processing everything. It takes him a few moments of just staring at the ceiling to figure out he’s awake.

He has given the brothers a ride on his back as a dragon a few times, but sometimes he had flown a bit too fast making them fly off.

Barbatos

Appearance

His body is long and slender, reaching forty feet long. His scales are flat and smooth, black with a teal iridescence to them. If you look at them closely you can see a triangular pattern on his back in different shades of gray and black.

His tail however splits at the end perfectly in two symmetrical pieces.

His tongue is forked and long but he hides it well, however he does have teal coloration on the tip. Barbatos also has a few scale patches on his cheeks and just along his spine to his back hairline.

Barbatos has long perfectly trimmed claws that are sharp as a razor and grown out just far enough to start curving.

Being Cold Blood

Barbatos has to deal with the annoyance of being cold blooded, if he doesn’t heat himself in a nice warm place often enough he becomes lethargic; however no one has ever seen him resting let alone warming himself, people wonder how he always manages to be ten steps ahead of everyone while being cold blooded.

His secret is Diavolo, as he exudes a warm presence simply being near him provides enough heat to keep active for an entire day; and a pot of warm herbal tea to help jump-start his day.

He’s a type of Naga to use constriction against his prey, he has fangs but no actual venom. When he gets angry at the Little Ds you can find him constricting them and giving them a cold smile while scolding them.

Spending time with You

Barbatos just finds you so captivating and pure, he wants you in his arms. He wants to protect something so soft and warm, compared to him.

He loves to wrap his tail around you, around your waist, around your shoulders, he likes it even better if he can wrap it arounds your body completely just feeling the warmth of you on his skin.

He has a habit of spoiling you by bringing you everything you ask for. He always has breakfast in bed for you, he likes to bring you your clothes and always gets the chair or door for you.

He enjoys spending time in the garden with you, sharing a cup of tea and light pastries. Light rainy days are always his favorite just the sight of you in the green glow of the garden, the plump droplets catching the starlight above.

He likes to see you relaxed and happy, it makes his heart feel light and makes him proud to see how content you are. Sometimes he likes to lay with you and place fresh flowers around you and just admire you. He just loves looking at you.

His Dark Tendencies

He gets jealous fairly easily but he tries to not let it show in front of you. Just you smiling in front of someone else is enough to make his scales rise in anger.

He makes sure to find them and threaten them to stay away from you and says it while constricting them so much that they begin turning blue. All of his bottled up anger from everything that has happened, even events that don’t involve the victim, are being let out on them. Harshly and slowly.

He’ll very rarely punish you, if you go out of your way to escape from him he’ll make sure to chain you up and make you beg for him to take care of you, if you don’t you’ll be left alone without food or water.

He has a slightly sadistic want to make you cry. It looks so cute and beautiful to him, like the rain from the garden is dripping from your lovely eyes.

Misc Stuff

Most Nagas aren’t afraid to hunt pests, meat is meat, but Barbatos has a delicate palate and the thought of eating rats makes him ill. He also has a sensitive stomach so he can’t eat too much or anything too hot.

He loves to relax in hot baths but he never has time anymore helping with Diavolo and the Seven Demon Lords.

He likes to wake up early in the morning, put on an apron and start making pastries fresh that morning. Every morning is something new and always delicious.

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