#let people enjoy what they like and me grumble about it here in private

[stazyros]

I have no idea why people are so excited about the new Noorhelm. The most boring couple in skam universe. It was okay in Druck with feminist Mia, the sister story and especially when they got rid of the nonsense sleeping naked and made the harassment part more realistic. But here in skam Croatia Nora looking with interest at Roco and saying nothing about hooking up and the whole coupe thing? I am really not interested at all

Eva on the other hand … love her. Her commonness. Her brackets. Her irritation at Vanessa and Tina. I don’t want her to suffer

[wcbblife]

IDEA…after this amazing most nastiest win, Kate smut but the hat stays ON (I just saw a comment about this and now I can’t stop thinking about it)

Winning looks sexy on you

Kate x fem!reader

Warning: smut (obvi)

Word count: 3k

Author's note: I like how you think, anon. I felt so ashamed of writing this lol 😭. Anyways enjoy!

As the final buzzer reverberated throughout the stadium, a wave of cheers erupts from the crowd, celebrating the historic moment unfolding before them. Amidst the celebration, you can't help but break into a wide grin as you catch sight of your girlfriend leaping with joy alongside her team, her loud screams filling the air. Despite Kate's attempts to locate you in the crowd, you know it's futile as you watch her scan the stands without success, even as you wave frantically. But in the middle of the celebration, you find some comfort in the fact that your time alone with Kate will come soon enough, even with the upcoming ceremony and press conference awaiting her. Both of you have chosen to keep your relationship private, away from the public eye amidst the overwhelming amount of attention surrounding Iowa in recent years.

So, after the teams exchange pleasantries, you plop yourself down on your seat and decide to just view the whole thing from up here.

It's a pretty sight, looking at your girlfriend radiating joy over the feat they've accomplished. She beams for the cameras circling them, proudly hoists the trophy up, sprawls on the floor, fully immersing herself in the moment before heading to the locker room. What truly seals the experience is the display of matching shirts and hats, a fitting tribute to reward their hard-earned victory.

And just like that, after signing countless autographs and talking to a few other people, Kate and the rest of the team finally makes their way towards the locker room and after a few minutes you decide to follow suit.

Navigating through the maze-like hallways, you find a quiet spot to wait, knowing only certain individuals can access the locker rooms and press area. You shoot Kate a quick text, letting her know where you are, and settle in for the wait. As you absentmindedly scroll through your phone, time slips away. You catch glimpses of game-related news but don't dwell on it, too focused on the text you've been anticipating. Finally, after what feels like ages, her message lights up your screen, and you eagerly tap on it.

“"I'm done, baby. Where are you?"

You swiftly type back, "Are you by the lockers? I'll head over."

Seconds later, three chat bubbles appear, signaling her response. "Yup. I'll be waiting."

With a quick nod, you pocket your phone and spring into action, navigating the confusing passages again, guided by the signs on the walls. Finally, you round a corner and there she is, Kate, waiting patiently for you.

As if on cue, she glances up from her phone, locking eyes with you. Her smile is practically immediate, and her legs carry her toward you.

“Hey, baby,” Kate murmurs, immediately leaning in for a sweet kiss. You reciprocate eagerly, the connection lingering for a moment before you both pull back to catch your breath.

Stepping back slightly, you examine her carefully. Her rosy cheeks, excited eyes, and wide grin captivate you. Your gaze wanders downwards, noticing her hands, still marked by the intensity of the game, and then her shirt, perfectly matching the hat atop her head.

“Gosh, you look sexy,” you grumble out, taking hold of her shirt and pulling her towards you, pressing your lips together for another searing kiss.

Kate freezes only for a second before you feel her smirk into the kiss and move her lips fervently against your own. You cradle her face, sensing the warmth still lingering from her game, and pull her even closer, melding your faces together.

What breaks you two apart is her panting into your mouth roughly.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for this, just not here,” Kate jokes, scanning both ends of the hallway. Once she sees it’s all clear, she steps up to you, stopping just mere inches away from your face. “Let’s go to the hotel room. You can do whatever you want to me there. How does that sound?”

You’re pretty sure you look pretty stupid looking up at her, mouth wide open, shocked at what the woman in front of you said.

“Whatever I want?” you repeat, already liking the idea. You try to keep your mind at bay, but it’s already too late.

Kate shrugs her shoulders, suddenly all cocky. “Maybe. Who knows? I might just change my mind.” She leans in to deliver the final blow. “Can you get there fast enough before I have a change of heart?” You feel her breath on the curve of your ear, sending a wave racking through your body almost violently.

“Sure can,” you swiftly respond, suddenly hyper-focused on one thing and one thing only. You take her hand, basically dragging her along with you while she giggles maniacally behind you.

Mission “Get Kate to the hotel room so you could fuck her” is a go.

______

It’s hard.

Driving your girlfriend to the hotel proves to be a pretty difficult task. Especially when all she does is tease you all the way. You swear you’re going to rip the steering wheel clean off if you squeeze it any harder than you already are.

“Kate, I swear to god. Stop,” you seethe towards her, trying to concentrate with all your might on the red light in front of you.

Your girlfriend, however, seems to have other plans in mind as she lets her hand on your thigh. She moves it up and down and then back up and keeps going in this motion. Every time you try peeling her away, she squeezes the skin there, hard.

As soon as it turns green, you slam on the accelerator, hearing Kate chuckle next to you.

She controls herself for the meantime, giving you a chance to navigate to the hotel parking lot without crashing your car into a nearby ditch. Wordlessly, you both step out of the car, with you starting to walk a bit later than her.

From the start, you both agreed this was the way to avoid any possible suspicions. It might seem silly, but you made it clear to Kate that you wanted to eliminate any chance of getting caught. Better safe than sorry, you told her.

Like clockwork, she walks in with you following a few feet back. She presses the elevator button, waits, and you join her as soon as it opens. You pray and pray that nobody enters with you two, and let out a loud sigh of relief once the doors close.

A beat. Two. Three.

“So what did you think about the game?” Kate asks, rather innocently.

You turn to her, brow raised in suspicion. Such a drastic change from just a few minutes ago makes your brain set off all kinds of alarms. However, you turn your eyes back to the red little numbers on the side of the elevator wall. “You all did great today. Seriously, you guys were crazy out there.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmh. You fell way too many times. I felt like jumping in whenever you got knocked down.”

“I agree.”

Ignoring the rather short responses, you immediately grab her hand and dart out of the elevator. You thank the universe for giving you the closest room there is, not sure if you could wait any longer. “Get in,” you command, and Kate follows swiftly.

It’s silly, really. How you thought it was all going to go your way. All hope is thrown out the window once you feel her body press you against the hotel door. It’s seriously surprising how easily Kate was able to dangle the bait in front of you and snatch it without much pity.

“Crazy how you think you’d be in control here,” she whispers, her lips hovering right above yours. “Y’know, I’ve been thrown around all game, but all I could think about when talking to all those people and cameras is how I would still come back here and make you beg.” Her eyes peek from under her cap, and gosh, as if she couldn't get any sexier.

“Kate, you deserve a little something for winning,” you try to negotiate, but it's cut short with her lightly bumping her hips against yours, causing the door behind you to rattle just a little.

It's clear she's too caught up in the feeling of winning for you to even think about anything else.

“Now, why don't we make this easier for the both of us. Bed's right back there,” she suggests, nodding towards the freshly made hotel bed.

You push her away teasingly, a giant smirk on your face. As if you would follow her instructions so easily. For now, though, you decide to go along.

Kate stays back, but you turn and drag her along with you by the collar of her new shirt. She offers little resistance, letting you lower yourself with her towards the bed. Then, she leans in, her mouth fitting onto yours in an instant.

The kiss is almost hurried, unlike the one you both shared in the stadium. Kate kisses you with a new hunger, as if you were going to disappear from underneath her. The intensity makes you squirm underneath her, seeking any type of contact to alleviate the pressure building between your legs.

You can't stop the moan that bubbles from the back of your throat. “Kate,” you whine in between kisses, but your girlfriend seems uninterested in stopping. She runs her tongue over your lower lips, then all but shoves it into your mouth, causing you to let out a strange strangled sound.

Kate straightens up suddenly, giving your poor brain a little time to gather itself. She takes off her hat and shirt, exposing her toned muscles underneath. This causes your breath to hitch because it doesn't matter how many times you've seen her, you still can't get over how hot her body is.

“Shit, baby,” you blurt out. “Keep it on.”

She furrows her eyebrows, waiting for a further explanation. “What?”

At least she has the decency to wait for you to stop panting. “Your hat. Put it on.”

Kate laughs, taking hold of the black cap with the Iowa logo on it. “What, does it turn you on?”

You enjoy it a little too much as you watch her face transform when you nod weakly. She does it anyway, a hidden smirk starting to form on her face.

“Thanks, baby,” you say as you stand up, pushing her down towards the bed. Without much resistance, she drops down and bounces slightly, watching your every move. You go over and straddle her hips, but she stops you, pushing your hips away. Before you can protest, she speaks up.

“Take your clothes off. Slow. I wanna watch you.” The tone in her voice tells you all you have to know. Kate's too lost in the sweet feeling of such a personal win. You've just happened to be on the receiving end of her.

Kate raises the visor of her cap to watch you better, leaning on the back of her palms as she positions herself into a more comfortable position. But let's be real, she takes her own chance at teasing you, basically manspreading in front of you.

Finally, you get to it, raising your shirt over your head and pulling down your pants, making sure to wiggle a little more than necessary.

“Y'know,” you start, bending down to make sure you give Kate a whole show, “I thought you'd let me have my way with you tonight. Had me all hopeful back there-”

The words die on your tongue as you turn around and are met with a towering Kate. She switches you around, practically throwing you onto the sheets. Quickly making work with her own clothes, she sheds them until she's only in her underwear. And the hat, of course.

You bite your lip. Her quietly following your request turns you on even more.

“You need to be quiet,” she murmurs, crawling towards you to seal your lips.

She doesn't linger there too long though. Kate's careful not to lose her cap as she makes her way slowly towards your neck. She presses wet kisses on your jaw then your neck, leaving a trail of saliva all over you.

“You have no idea,” Kate bites down on your neck hard, causing you to let out a grunt moan, “How long I've been waiting for this today.” She then licks the area, blowing on it gently. The cold feeling shoots a delicious feeling all through your body.

“Kate,” you moan.

“Crazy that I had to wait this long for my girlfriend,” she trails her hands down towards your chest, palming your chest rather harshly.

You hissed at this, immediately arching your back against her hands. She keeps this going, but after a bit, you start getting impatient. You hold her wrist, silently urging her to continue, worried that you might combust right then and there if you didn't get any sort of relief from the ever-mounting pressure inside of you.

“You’re so impatient,” Kate murmurs into your chest, leaving open-mouthed kisses on every single inch of skin she can find. It sends yet another delicious wave of pleasure throughout your whole body.

“Please,” you whine out shakily.

What your girlfriend does next nearly sends you over the edge. With slow and silent movements, her fingers trace one singular hard line across the damp area on your underwear. You two let out a moan almost in sync.

“Shit baby, this ain't even the best part and you're this wet already?”

It's a little bit too much for your poor soul. Kate pinning you down on the mattress, her naked body in all its glory in front of you, and of course, that damn hat.

You can't even answer, settling for a whiny groan.

She chuckles, slightly shaking her head.

“Fine, if you don't wanna answer me, I guess you won't have a problem keeping your mouth shut.” Before you can even react, she pulls your panties down, watching as a string of your fluids comes along with it. Her jaw slackens at the view of your shiny cunt.

You can only watch as your girlfriend reaches over. Your hips instinctively buck upwards as you bite your lips, trying to stifle the inevitable yelp threatening to escape. She traces her fingers up and down your folds, teasingly, her gaze locked onto yours with intense anticipation. Waiting.

As you glance down at her, she plunges a finger into you. Your body reacts with a primal moan, your shoulders tensing with the sudden sensation of her fingers stretching you without much warning.

But what truly catches you by surprise is Kate's other hand reaching for your face, her fingers firmly splayed over your jaw, forcing you to meet her gaze. “I told you to keep quiet if you can't answer a simple question, didn't I?” Her voice is a husky whisper, commanding yet seductive. She leans in, halting the movement of her fingers in you. “Now, if you use your words, I'll give you what you want.”

You pant, feeling too dizzy to even think straight. Kate maintains her hold on your chin, waiting for a response. Seemingly not satisfied with your silence, she pushes your head up and leans into your neck. “I'll have no problem leaving you here all high and dry. Heck, I'll get off in the shower without a single care in the world.”

“N-no, please,” you manage to half plead, half groan, “Please, fuck me.”

You won't lie, this is a certain rare side your girlfriend never showed to you during sex. But you aren't complaining. Not when you feel yourself getting wetter and wetter.

Kate gives you a cocky smile. “Good girl.” She continues her movements with her fingers, and the sensation builds up again, only this time it's at a faster rate than before.

Her hands flex with each movement, and Kate lets out the occasional moan. You try to see what she looks like, but the hat covers her face almost completely. Not that you're complaining, because winning sure looks sexy on your girlfriend.

Once she starts using her thumb to rub small circles around your clit, you're pretty sure you lose it completely. Your body jerks forward, and you dig your nails into her neck, surely leaving deep indents on her skin. Not that she minds anyway. Finally being able to see her face as she leans her head sideways, you see the absolute concentration on your girlfriend's face.

“Kate! I—fuck. I can't,” you whine desperately as you feel your stomach churn with an addictive feeling. You're sure it's right around the corner. “Kate, I'm—”

Kate leans in to kiss you, effectively silencing your words. Her lips move with a slow pace as her tongue pries itself into your mouth. You feel her let out a moan into your mouth.

“Shit, baby,” she growls in your ear, “you feel so good.” Feeling your walls clench around her finger, she decides to deliver one final blow by curling them, effectively putting the perfect amount of pressure on an area that sends you violently over the edge.

Your back arches into Kate's front, your mouth open in a silent scream. “Fuuuuck,” you moan out airily, clinging on to your girlfriend for dear life as she slows down her movements and helps you ride out your high.

It takes a few seconds for your soul to float back to earth and back into your body. But once you open your eyes, which you had screwed shut, you're met with your beautiful girlfriend smiling at you like a big idiot.

“Holy shit, Kate. You've got to win more often,” you say, still catching your breath. Kate's laugh grounds you for a moment. You take a moment to switch your positions, finally straddling her hips. “Seriously, what the hell happened to you?”

“Don't even think about it,” she says, shrugging and adjusting her black cap. “If anything, we're not even close to finishing here.”

You raise your brow in question, and Kate wastes no time, reaching over to pull you down by your neck.

“Why don't you be a good girl and eat me out? I think I've deserved it.”

The smirk that grows on your lips is almost evil as you gladly give Kate no resistance. You come face to face with her wet folds, and your lips lap around on her wet cunt, feeling as Kate’s waist stutters, pushing her pussy closer to your face.

“Oh…shit, keep doing that.”

You look up from in between her legs and wrap your arms around her thighs. Head thrown back, you can only see the visor of that damn hat popping over her chest. She looks so sexy like this. But unfortunately for Kate, this was payback.

It's going to be a long night.

[theragethatisdesire]

much ado about nothing chapter 8 - plug!eren x reader - 18+!!!

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. minors and ageless blogs, please do not read below the cut.

um. hi. i am so nervous about posting this i could die, not because anything too significant happens, but it's been so long. this is not a super action-y chapter, but it's necessary, so bare with me. there's a good bit between the lines, so if anything's confusing, hit up my ask box or just hit me up to chat bc i love this story. we're getting close to the end, but i am .... sad about it. i love this eren. i love much ado. without further theatrics from me.... enjoy!!!!! <3

specific cws: swearing, mentions of drug use, alcohol, mentions of sex

want to catch up? series masterlist here<3

-

“Love is like a child, That longs for everything it can come by.” - The Two Gentlemen of Verona by William Shakespeare (Act III, Scene 1)

“It’s about time you got up! I got bagels from– oh, hey,” Historia falters when she catches sight of you and Eren, finally having made your first appearance for the day even though it’s well past 10:00.

“You again?” Ymir says with a snicker, walking past Historia with the aforementioned bagels swinging beside her legs with every step.

“Ymir!” Historia hisses, shooting you an apologetic look. Your face warms, knowing exactly what you look like right now: hair a mess, bruises covering your neck and chest, and the telltale sheen of guilt practically glowing in a halo around your head. Eren’s not much better off; there are angry red scratches down his entire back under his hoodie, and his eyes are hooded and heavy with that satisfied, I just got laid glimmer to them. He looks good like this, you think, sluggish and weighted down with the work he’d put in on your body all night and all morning. Cocky and satiated.

“Where are the bagels from?” You peek into the bag that Ymir dropped on the counter, shaking yourself out of your private admiration and sidestepping the obvious elephant in the room in favor of filling your grumbling stomach.

“That place on Melrose, but I only got three…” Historia looks sheepishly to Eren in apology.

“He’s on his way out,” you answer for him. Eren nods affirmatively, shuffling over to the doorway where his enormous sneakers are thrown alongside a small collection of yours and Historia’s shoes.

“Leaving so soon?” Ymir’s eyebrows raise in uncharacteristic interest, looking between you and Eren, who don’t seem able to truly meet each other’s eyes.

“Busy,” Eren grunts, slipping his shoes on, “I’ll see you–”

“Tuesday, right?” You say around a mouthful of bagel, still not quite meeting his gaze.

“Tuesday,” Eren looks to the sky like he’s mentally penciling you in to his schedule, nodding after a moment, “got it.”

“Merry Christmas!” You call out as he makes his exit, throwing a hand up in acknowledgement and farewell. A few heavy seconds of silence pass, the only sound in the room being the noisy smacking of the cream cheese bagel that you’re practically inhaling as Historia stares at you.

“That was…awkward,” Historia starts cautiously. You frown at her.

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve never seen two people that just fucked look less like they want to be in the same room,” Ymir says from the couch, punctuating her statement with a sharp laugh, “I mean, is it that awkward when you have sex?”

“It wasn’t awkward,” you cross your arms defensively, narrowing your eyes, “we’re just…casual.”

“Eren looked sort of tense,” Historia adds thoughtfully, a little line of worry appearing between her eyebrows.

“I’m sure his family’s been talking to him a bunch with the holidays coming up. Maybe that’s it, I wouldn’t know,” you shrug, not meeting Historia’s gaze. You can almost feel her smug, understanding nodding, seeing right through you.

“So you’re still not talking, then.”

“Of course we talk. You just watched us talk.”

“Not like you used to,” Historia counters, crossing her arms.

“So?” You scoff, letting your annoyance erupt in the form of tearing your bagel into little bite-sized pieces. Historia’s right, she’s right way too often for you to live with.

“You liked him. A lot. And he liked you. What happened?”

“You never told us,” Ymir echoes from the couch, “the last thing you told me at least was that you and Sasha went to Scout’s, Eren practically fought Floch, you slept with him for some reason after that, and the next thing we know, he’s here every morning.”

“Not every morning,” you mumble, rolling your eyes petulantly.

“That doesn’t matter,” Historia says impatiently, waving Ymir off, “it’s been weeks of…I don’t even know what to call it– this weird, awkward no-talking just-fucking thing. What happened?”

“We made up,” you shrug, staring at her blankly, “we’re fuck buddies. It’s not something that needs to be, like, picked apart and analyzed.”

“It absolutely does,” Historia argues, “you went from making goo-goo eyes at each other and staying up all night hogging the couch to what may the be the weirdest fuck-buddy relationship I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

“It’s not weird,” you groan, throwing your hands over your eyes in exasperation.

“Is it Breeze?”

“What?” you hiss, pulling your hands from your face to narrow your eyes at Ymir, “what would this have to do with her?”

“I heard she’s staying for awhile, just moved into those snazzy new apartments across from the farmer’s market.” Ymir is either unaware of or unphased by your immediate aggression. She delivers her statement matter-of-factly, twirling one of her many rings idly. Her nonchalance makes you prickle, and Historia notices.

“Is it Breeze?” Historia asks, watching your reaction carefully. “Are she and Eren talking again? Or is he with you?”

“I don’t know what Eren does in his free time,” you roll your eyes, “much less if he’s got anything going on with Breeze right now. It’s not my business.”

“Granted, I don’t see how he could even find the time to deal with Breeze with how often he’s over here,” Ymir scoffs.

“Don’t you two have packing to do?” you ask in a desperate attempt to change the conversation topic. Luckily, Ymir takes the bait.

“We finally finished,” she shoots Historia a meaningful glance, “but our flight doesn’t leave for another four hours, so we don’t need to head to the airport until noon.”

Great. Your patience has already worn thin with the both of them for the day, and just as you’re formulating a plan to bid them goodbye and drag your exhausted body into a shower, Historia jumps ahead of you with yet another question that you don’t necessarily want to answer.

“Have you heard from your mom?”

“Bits and pieces,” you answer, twiddling the hem of your t-shirt between your fingers, “she and Tom are in Costa Rica right now.”

“No invite?” Ymir questions wryly, cocking an eyebrow. Historia shoots her a reprimanding glare, but Ymir’s callous humor is exactly what you need at the moment.

“Of course not,” you say with a chuckle, shrugging, “but she sent me some sweet pictures. They’re cute together.”

“I think Tom is my favorite of the recent boyfriends,” Historia concedes with a small smile.

“He’s definitely better than that asshole from Dubai, that’s for sure.” Ymir nods affirmatively, the unspoken voice of reason in relation to your mother’s dating life.

A few minutes of idle chit chat later, you’re able to excuse yourself to shower, ducking behind the curtain and into the steaming, nonjudgmental spray of water. Your theory these days is that turning the water up to an unbearable heat may scald the weight of everything on your mind off of your shoulders. It hasn’t worked yet, but you’ll keep trying.

Christmas isn’t your favorite season by any means, not since your parents’ divorce. It’s a solitary season for you, one for contemplation and baking. You don’t not enjoy spending Christmas’ alone; after so many years, you’ve started your own little traditions, and while you know the concept of someone spending Christmas alone is objectively sad, you’ve grown to prefer your own company over that of your mother and her boyfriend of the year. She’ll send you her American Express information along with a text to “Go crazy! Anything your little heart desires!” and you’ll spend Christmas Eve playing Santa for yourself, watching movies, and stuffing your face with whatever sugary treat you decide to throw together.

Okay, maybe it is a little sad, but it’s your tradition.

Ymir and Historia leave for the airport, and unsurprisingly, Historia begs you to catch a flight to come with them because “No one should be alone on Christmas!”. You only falter when Ymir begrudgingly extends an invitation, the first year in the three you’ve known them that she’s done so. Ymir shrugs and blushes when you and Historia stare at her in disbelief, claiming it’s because you seem like you have a lot on your mind. She’s not wrong, but you wave them off to Ymir’s parents’ anyway, assuring them you’ll Facetime on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, just to check in.

You don’t consider Historia’s offer until you’ve curled up under a blanket, the fifth or sixth mind-numbing, standard Christmas movie you’d selected not quite doing the trick of silencing your thoughts. You open your phone, pull up your recent texts; maybe reaching out to someone for some lazy, technology-driven conversation will do the trick.

First is Historia, per usual, sending you a barrage of selfies of her and Ymir’s family playing a board game. Even in your melancholy state, the sight of Ymir with her mouth stretched comically wide around a plastic game piece, scowling through her ridiculous expression, makes you snort to yourself.

Second is your mother, sending you an update about her and Tom’s dinner reservation getting canceled amidst short-staffing at the resort restaurant. You roll your eyes at that one; for your mother, the end of the world will surely present itself as a minor inconvenience at a five-star establishment.

Third is Sasha, checking in amidst the holiday season. She tells you that Hitch loved the little self-care package that she put together as a thoughtful, but casual Christmas gift. You text your congratulations back to her, feeling an unfair pang of envy hitting you.

Fourth is…oh, god, you shouldn’t have let yourself get this far. Eren. He’s still saved in your phone as “Eren 10 Shadows User Jaeger”; instead of making you giggle, his idiotic, self-placed contact name only makes a hollow thud ring through the confines of your empty chest. Feeling a bit like twisting the knife, you start scrolling through your texts, frowning at how short and unsubstantial each message is.

> Outside.

> tonight? 10ish?

> Be there in 10.

> i can venmo you for the doordash

> Don’t worry ab it.

The most painful part of all of it is, if you scroll just a bit further, back into the crisper autumn months, the messages aren’t so dry. In fact, in hindsight, Eren seems smitten with you. The messages still give you butterflies.

> Are you in your office was gonna pick up 104 otw to yours but I don’t want it to get cold.:)

> Is developing the six eyes the key to getting you to like me as much as you like Gojo?

> Just did a drop at the library and spied you w your kiddos across the room I didn’t say hey bc I didn’t want you to yell at me (bc youre rude) but you look HOT.

> Got your fav cookie dough to soften the blow for you when we start shibuya arc tonight be there in 10 nerd.

You groan and toss your phone to the other end of the couch, digging the heels of your hands into your eyes. What are you doing? Why can’t you just talk to him, tell him that he’s all you think about, that every time he touches you, you swear that it burns an imprint into your skin?

Because it’s not real, your mind helpfully supplies. Breeze. Luke. Rumors. You’re clearly not over Luke if you drunkenly texted him that night at Paradis, right? Or maybe you’re projecting your old feelings for Luke onto Eren? Is that really something you’re prepared to gamble with?

And if you weren’t mess enough, Eren’s only been the commitment type for one woman in his life; out of the many that you know have rotated in and out, your statistical chance of becoming the second is slim. Not to mention the fact that the only woman he’s ever committed to has just moved in a whopping five minutes down the road from you, and is apparently interested in re-opening doors that you had assumed were closed.

With a huff, you grab your phone from where it's nestled into the cushions and check the time. 11:04pm. Still plenty of time to run down to the bodega and scrounge around for some cookie dough, maybe a cheap bottle of wine.

That’s motivation enough to shake you out of your wallowing state, and after you’ve pulled a pair of slouchy gray sweatpants over your pj shorts and thigh-high socks, you’re shoving your feet into some slippers and shuffling down the street, arms crossed over your chest in a feeble attempt to protect yourself from the biting wind. The shock of the cold numbs you to the bone, a welcome reprieve from the watery, shaky feeling that’s been brewing in your chest all night. You storm through it, noticing your breathing get a little looser with every step, feeling very much like you could stay out here all night, leave all of your problems cooped up in your lonely little apartment.

The bodega’s a certifiable ghost town, as expected. You only have your lucky stars to thank that the owners aren’t religious and are willing to stay open this late the night before Christmas Eve. You give a weak wave to the heavyset man behind the counter, a gesture that he doesn’t return. Figures.

Luckily, with most of the students on campus having left for home days ago, the shelves and refrigerators are still mostly-stocked with everything you’ll need. Item 1: cookie dough. A pack of the Pilsbury reindeer sugar cookies should do nicely; delicious and small enough that eating the entire package won’t depress you too much. Item 2: cheap wine. You round the corner a bit too quickly in your excitement, running headfirst into a tall stranger that you didn’t notice upon entering the store.

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t–” your voice cuts itself off as the man in question’s irritation slowly slides off of his face. A tentative murmur of your name comes through wind-chapped lips, bloodshot eyes widening in surprise.

“What are you doing here?” Eren’s brow crinkles almost comically, furrowing into a frustrated little divot between his reddened eyes as he tries to make sense of why you’re standing in front of him. “It’s Christmas Eve.”

“Technically not for another forty minutes,” you counter, checking your watch, “and I could ask you the same thing.”

“You know me, not exactly the family type.” Eren shrugs, a bit of the tension melting off of him. And he isn’t wrong; you do know. During the period of yours and Eren’s less-complicated friendship, he had divulged little bits and pieces of his home life, not enough to give you the full picture, but at least enough that you feel like an ass for not realizing why he was spending Christmas alone. Dead mother, asshole father, overbearing stepmom, try-hard brother. You can’t exactly blame him.

He looks heartbreakingly soft; wrapped in one of his classic massive hoodies, hair tucked beneath a cozy beanie, nose and cheeks kissed slightly pink from the cold winter winds. He’s clearly stoned, eyes heavy, muted, and slow-moving as he looks down at you. It’s all you can do to hold yourself back from cupping his face, breathing warmth back into him. Your fingers clutch a little tighter around the cookie dough in your hand, mimicking the swell of emotion that chokes your heart in your chest.

“Right, sorry.”

“That brings us back to square one. What are you doing here?”

The longing for closeness in your heart hasn’t quite outweighed the sadness and awkwardness of the situation, and you opt to deflect again. Unhealthy, but functional. “Buying wine.”

“And cookie dough?” Eren raises an eyebrow at your currently-occupied left hand. “Did you just get dumped by Santa?”

You narrow your eyes at him. “No. It’s my Christmas tradition.”

When Eren’s gaze softens into something thoughtful, green eyes raking painfully over your bundled-up form, you realize you’ve let your guard down. Even that simple statement has bared something to him, given him yet another piece of you to hold– maybe to drop. It sends a nervous chill over you, and you drop your eyes to the floor amidst a pregnant moment of understanding silence.

“Here.”

You flit your gaze back up to Eren’s outstretched hand. He’s holding a bottle of Pinot Grigio– your favorite kind of cheap Pinot Grigio, at that. When you dare to look up at his face, you can’t read it, no surprise there, but if you had to guess? Something like warmth, something like the beginnings of a familiarity you hadn’t realized had been growing.

When you hesitate to take it, a little too long apparently, Eren pulls the bottle back up to his face, squinting at it, and moving it further and closer from his face. With a stuttered chuckle, you realize he’s trying to read the label.

“Is this not the one? I swear I saw it in your fridge–”

“No, that’s it.” You reach up and pull the bottle from him, momentarily shaken out of your stupor. “Where are your glasses? Were you planning on stumbling around the bodega asking the clerk to read all the labels for you?”

“I left ‘em at your house forever ago,” Eren admits, a bashful hand running over the back of his neck, “keep forgetting to grab them on my way out.”

“That’s right.” Your face grows warm at the mention of Eren– the same Eren who’s in front of you, adorably bundled up and cheeks pink with embarrassment– in your home. The things Eren’s been doing in your home as of late.

More like I’m not giving you enough time to grab them, you reflect with a grimace. Eren’s presence in your life has been hot and momentary over the last weeks since your run-in at Scout’s; you’ve made a habit of not keeping him around long enough for conversation, pleasantries, even so much as nabbing those readers out of your nightstand. Even after this short interaction, a vicious stroke of memory reminds you why you’ve kept your distance– Eren’s charming. He’s thoughtful, he’s kind, he’s funny, he’s so careful with you sometimes it makes your fingers shake. And now, with him beginning to turn away from you, giving you a sad and half-hearted goodbye and preparing himself to check out with whatever meager snacks he’s gathered, you don’t think you can keep observing your emotional vigil anymore.

The first flutters of snow have begun to coat the ground and there’s a cold, Christmas wind rattling at the shop windows and you’re holding the bottle of wine to your chest so hard you might be bruising your ribs when you decide to take a chance on him.

“Eren!”

He turns on his heel slowly, as if he’s about to raise his hands and call a truce. His eyes betray nothing but confusion, but if you squint, if you let yourself believe just a bit…you want to believe that he looks a little hopeful.

“Do you…do you want to come over?”

“Right now?” Eren cocks his head in disbelief. It crushes you a little how far out of the realm of possibility it’s become for you to just…want to spend time with him. The blow to your ego and his lack of immediate response nearly bring your newfound courage to its knees, but you push on.

“I can’t eat all of these by myself,” you lie, “and I have better food than that in my pantry.”

Eren eyes the two bags of chips he’s holding in one hand, looks back at you almost like he’s waiting for the punchline. You do your best to smile in a friendly, I-totally-won’t-cry-later-if-you-say-no type of way and snatch another bottle of wine off the shelf.

“I think they’re two-for-one anyway,” you say with an airy chuckle, “no one needs to be alone on Christmas.”

A shaky smile shatters Eren’s hesitant expression, and he cocks an eyebrow, raises his hooded eyes to the sky like he’s thinking it over. “Uh…yeah, I guess I have room in my schedule to keep you company.”

“Oh, get over yourself,” you scoff, the relief viscerally warming you from your growing smile to your fingertips, “and you’re buying after that one.”

“Some fucked up plan you got there,” Eren chuckles to himself, placing your wine and snacks on the counter, “tracking your fuck buddy down at the bodega and guilting him into buying you wine and snacks.”

“Eren,” you hiss, smacking him in retribution, masking the burn of his choice of words with embarrassment. It’s true, you’ve both wordlessly agreed upon it, but the reminder stings. You shoot an apologetic look to the clerk, but he’s entirely apathetic, reciting the total to Eren in a monotone voice. Your unnecessary chagrin only makes Eren giggle harder, earning him an eye roll from you.

The short walk back to your car is filled with some intentional tightrope walking between unnecessary etiquette (Eren insisting upon walking with you to your apartment, saying he’ll grab his car later; you pulling your Venmo app up, trying to assure him that making him pay was a joke) and the banter that you’d established between yourselves upon first meeting, the easy conversation you used to enjoy whenever you liked. Even as you both lull into that familiar rhythm of jokes, stomping through the light dusting of snow side-by-side, you can feel the precariousness of it all. Who’s going to be the first to decide that you’re too close? Who’s going to run away? Who’s going to wish they had run after them?

“Smells nice in here,” Eren remarks, bending down to tug at the laces of his heavy Docs once he’s made it past the threshold of your door.

“It’s about to smell even better.” Suddenly overcome with nervous jitters that Eren’s in your apartment with no part of his mouth on you, you scurry over to the oven to begin preheating it, urgently in need of something to do with your hands.

“Where’s ‘Stor?” Eren ambles along behind you, seemingly far more at ease than you judging by the way he slouches against the counter.

“Ymir’s parents have them come up that way every year.”

“You didn’t want to go?”

“It’s their thing.” You try to disguise the sudden tightness in your voice with a tinny note of disbelief, as if Eren should have inherently known that you elected this lonely Christmas celebration. “Hand me a baking sheet?”

“Where?”

“Down there.”

Your intonation must have carried the desired effect because Eren doesn’t press the matter further, following your instructions and producing a rectangular pan from one of the lower cabinets of your kitchen. You work wordlessly and in tandem with one another. Eren produces two wine glasses when he sees you scrounging around in the drawer for a corkscrew; he begins to scoop healthy dollops of cookie dough from the package with the spoon you hand him as you pour two not-so-healthy glasses of wine for you both. The silence is interrupted by Eren’s poorly-muffled snickers when he watches you take your first sip of wine.

“What?”

“Am I that bad?” Eren directs a playful, but meaningful, glance at your wine glass, a fourth of which you’ve just knocked back in one sip. You feel your cheeks warming, and you stick your tongue out at him.

“Has nothing to do with you. Just…thirsty.”

"Is it awkward? Me being here?"

"I invited you," you say, not quite wanting to acknowledge that, yes, being around him fully-clothed is a little strange. It isn't an unwelcome strangeness, but you're not about to let that little confession fly either.

“We used to be friends,” Eren muses quietly, uncharacteristically outspoken. That makes your eyes widen; you almost wonder if he’s spoken without meaning to.

“We’re still friends,” you murmur against the rim of your glass, taking another large swig. Eren shrugs, very focused on portioning out the cookie dough. “We are.”

“I know.” Something about his voice shatters you, makes your fingers grip around your glass tight enough to break. You can almost see the self-provided rejection flitting across his face; it’s quick, but it’s cold enough to feel.

“Eren–”

“Friends.” Eren’s eyes flit over towards you in a gesture of laying arms down, and his lips tighten in a smile that threatens you to challenge the tentative peace he’s building between you both. The word stings when it hits you, bittersweet and ironic. Another fourth of your wine disappears in a single sip, and you smile back in a way that you hope looks more kind than it feels disparaged.

The cookies are baked, the necessary seating arrangements are settled upon, the glasses are refilled, and soon you’re snuggled up on the right side of your couch, feet stretched into Eren’s lap, practically dozing off to a Christmas romcom. Eren is, surprisingly, enthralled, intensely focused on the television and leaning forward in a way that’s bending your ankles uncomfortably but is too adorable to tell him to stop.

“So he’s not going to chase her?” Eren turns to you, devastated and frowning a bit. You snort into your second glass, finding his furrowed brow and flushed cheeks funnier than the mayhem that’s been building on the screen for the last hour.

“You have to watch!” You kick him meaningfully.

Eren receives your kick like a child, groaning dramatically and shooting you a look cold enough to kill. He throws himself back into the couch, absentmindedly taking one of your sock-covered feet in his massive hands and kneading his thumbs into the arch of your foot. He presses into a particularly tender spot, working a soft groan of appreciation from you; Eren’s lips tighten, and he subtly moves your heels a little further away from his crotch, but he doesn’t stop his ministrations. He rubs firm circles into the sides of your ankles, running a thumb up your leg to the back of your knee, beginning to extend his massage up your leg.

A breathy moan falls from your lips, and though he doesn’t turn to look at you, the corner of Eren’s mouth quirks up.

“Feel good?”

“Mhm,” you hum, eyes fluttering shut. You can hear the rustle of Eren’s hair against the couch as he nods, the movie now long faded away into your peripheral focus.

Just as you’re beginning to truly melt into yourself, scooching just the littlest bit towards Eren so he can start rubbing at your thighs, something glimmers into your consciousness. Eren’s your fuck buddy, he said it himself at the store. The gooey, soft emotion that’s welling in your chest, the thing that’s rendering you spineless and malleable that you don’t dare to name– it’s unseemly. The realization crashes over you like a bucket of ice water, raising goosebumps on the back of your neck and causing your eyes to fly open.

Something sickly and sour curls behind your ribs, darkening the contented little glow that had begun to grow there. You feel sick, you feel sixteen again, you feel like a lamb being fattened up for the slaughter. Eren’s not Prince Charming; he’s your fuck buddy, just like he said. You’d done a thorough job of establishing that dynamic, and you remember that as sweet as everything around you might taste, it’s artificial. He’s here for something.

Eren doesn’t notice the change in your demeanor, the stiffening in your muscles; not until you’re climbing into his lap, at least.

“What are you–”

You cut him off by slotting your lips against his, gripping into his shirt with such a fervor that the self-loathing behind it could be confused for mindless want. Eren hesitantly reciprocates, hands sliding down your waist and landing firmly at your hips, leaving a soft impression in the skin there. You rake your fingers through his hair, kissing him deeper and more frantically, bringing your hands down to tug at the hem of your sweatshirt–

“Hey.” Eren’s quiet voice against your lips freezes you where you are, fingers still twisted in the bottom of your shirt.

“What?”

“What’s all this?” Eren’s hand is against your cheek, brushing a strand of hair out of your eyes. It’s so gentle it nearly burns, scalds against the cold, callous arousal you’ve built up in yourself.

“I don’t understand.” Your voice is weak, all the fire you’ve contrived fizzling out as your words cross the barely-there gap between your mouth and Eren’s. Your hands fall into the space shared between your laps, fingers curling and uncurling to mask the tremble running through them. Your gaze stays fixed on them, monitoring for any visible signs of weakness, unable to glance up to meet Eren. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” Eren murmurs, forehead pressed unwaveringly against yours, “you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It was nice,” Eren says, a little breathless and disbelieving, “it was nice before.”

“So don’t you want…this?”

“I mean, yes. I always want this,” Eren punctuates his statement with an airy chuckle, rubbing his hands up and down your sides, “but I don’t always need it.”

“I feel like I upset you.” You can’t stop the embarrassed frown from working its way onto your face amidst your confusion. This…this is what you and Eren do. Now that it’s been refused, you don’t know where to put your wandering hands, where to tuck the rush of needing to touch him.

“I’m not upset,” Eren says, still barely audible as he thumbs at your chin, “you made my shitty day a lot less shitty, actually.”

“Why was it shitty?”

“My dad.” Something dark and coarse has infused his voice now, rasping against the warm air between you. Despite the rough tone of his voice, Eren’s moving a hand up and down your back soothingly, tucking your head into the crook of his neck. It works– your body goes slack in his hold, slumping against his chest and nuzzling your nose into his shoulder. “Won’t bore you with the details.”

“Tell me.”

“You don’t want to–”

“I do.” You pull back from where he’s pinned you, bringing your forehead back to rest against his. “Even if I’m just your fuck buddy. You can talk to me.”

Eren sighs, heavy and resigned. Even with your vision blurred by how close you are to him, you can see a wry smile twisting the corner of his mouth. “You’re not my fuck buddy.”

“I know. Friends, right?” You hardly dare to breathe against him, heart thudding viciously in your throat to the point that you worry Eren might hear. It’s not a word that encompasses what you feel for him, the mess you’ve both created between yourselves, but it’s your scapegoat, your fallback. No matter how many times you catch his lingering glance as he leaves you in the morning, no matter how often you delve into a bottle of wine and hover your thumb over his contact, no matter how closely he haunts your every thought. Friends.

The hint of a smile disappears from his face. Eren shakes his head against yours, fingers ghosting along your thigh, up your arm until he lands his hand over yours, curls them together in a loose fist against his chest.

“No.” You aren’t sure that you’ve heard him correctly, how quietly he speaks.

“No?”

“No,” Eren confirms, tightening his grip around your hand, “we’re not friends.”

Your breath catches in your throat at the same time Eren’s eyes flit up to meet yours, doubling down on the little confession he’s breathed into you. You’re powerless to do anything under the weight of your fear, your relief, your confusion. It’s enough for now, the understanding that no, you’re not friends and maybe you’ve never been, hanging between you and making the air a little more palatable.

“Not friends.” A little nod from you draws a shaky exhale from Eren, an answering nod of his own, and it feels like you both have mutually agreed to set whatever’s been building, whatever’s too-hot-to-touch, to the side for the time being. It’s enough.

He holds you, and you let him, despite the growing ache in your hips, the restlessness of your feet as they fall asleep. Eren tells you about his father, the career path he’s still afraid to go down. You tell him about your mother, how the emotional distance between you always manages to somehow be greater than the geographical, how love is her number one priority except when it comes from you. Both of you listen in reverence as you map out your scars for each other, delving into what’s healed and skating carefully over the parts that are still tender.

The couple on-screen reunites with a zoom shot and a dramatic kiss in the Christmas snow. The soaring orchestral number that accompanies their reunification is one that’s just loud enough to cover the sound of you and Eren’s hearts beating in tandem, and the clatter of his phone vibrating repeatedly on the kitchen counter.

[mono-dot-jpeg]

a flower & flower protector - p. niran [lifeweaver]

summary; you've heard of a sunshine and sunshine protector, well how about a flower and flower protector?

genre/extra tags; fluff, general headcanons abt being lifeweaver's s/o but with a more set dynamic, me just thinking about a dynamic in my head, reader is an overwatch agent (tank to be specific), very black cat & retriever energy in a way?, lifeweaver is the flower.. heh, get it?? bc his thai nickname is bua? which is lotus,,, anyways i love this man

[gender neutral! reader]

a/n; it's a crime that i haven't written for him yet bc i just wish there was more about him. he's literally my only source of representation as a south asian gay (at least the closest i'll get to a cambodian lgbt figure). and i love him so much for that but i will never forgive people shitting on him bc of blizzard's shit timing for everything

ugh, anyways, representation matters and i love him. i lost my shit when he was first announced, it made me so happy to see another type of south asian (especially one close to my family's home country) in my favorite game and he was gay so it was even more impactful as a gay person myself. and i imagine it was the same for a lot of other people.

niran is too nice sometimes

you love him for it but he seriously needs to pump the breaks on trying to do so much sometimes

especially since he is still technically wanted in several countries for his developments in bio light.

he's not,, super golden retriever energy but he's always so bright and sweet, it's hard to not at least say dog energy. maybe at least... chill dog energy. glad to be here but not being crazy energetic about it.

you.. not so much. you're very "i dont mind being here but i dont like it either" and he finds it entertaining and endearing bc even if you hate it, you're with him and making sure he's having a good time and there's no one there to ruin it

you're kind of intimidating but then you stand next to niran and he's so much taller than you ?! you're like near his chin or lips in height, so you're still kind of tall?? but also he is a very tall man in general

some people find it hard to believe that you're the one in the frontlines in battle and he's the one supporting you but it's really cute though

he likes that you're close to his height. "just means easier access to kiss you!" in his words.

he's always the one initiating pda and you never say no to it. you always grumble abt it but he just smiles so sweetly and you end up letting him do what he wants

but in private, you're the one being attached to him

often being the little spoon bc as much as you love protecting the people of the world, you want to be protected too sometimes and that's okay

but you do like being big spoon too and he loves being cuddled when you're the one initiating it

he's always the one rambling to you about his new discoveries and his plants or just anything in general

and you're always listening intently. and you get him things based on what he's talked about recently or what reminds you of him :')

"did you get this for me, dear?"

".. no." [yes.]

"of course, of course." he nods knowingly, sending you that little smug smirk. he obviously knows. "well, then i'm just gonna go ask the rest of the agents if they- [gifted this to me]"

you're hugging him from behind, face pressed against his back, "i hate you so much niran."

that stupidly cute laugh leaves his lips, "i love you too."

the overwatch crew's opinions really vary

symm doesn't mind your presence when you're around, she doesn't mind when you have silent moments bc she has those moments too. you both are close friends

genji kind of relates to you, when you just feel like being away from people but you don't want to actually feel lonely. he finds solace in that. also you both probably meditate together (with zen on occasion), and he enjoys having a meditation partner

tracer is always nice around you, very cheery and always trying to get a laugh or smile out of you. you only spare a weak laugh or a huff of a laugh and niran has to explain that you probably did find her joke funny and you don't want to admit it (which is true). sometimes it's a bit awkward when he's not around to explain that, so you just come off as really really awkward or unintentionally rude (or maybe intentionally if you didn't like her jokes)

you know that baptiste flirts a lot with niran, and you dont really care bc he does that with mostly everyone. you don't blame him (some of the agents are really pretty and handsome but you love niran the most). you trust niran enough. he's a very honest person with you.

bap also tries to flirt with you too. niran joins in to double team you and get you flustered. and sometimes it works. you're unfortunately really bad at handling and accepting compliments.

bap is very flirty best friend vibes but he never pushes past the limits of course. niran's glad to have a friend who matches his energy and you're just glad he's got another place to put that energy

continuing on...

after missions, he's always patching you up. you're the tank after all (you can only take so many orisa spears to the head-)

during missions, he gives his 110% for you and the team. and he does it well ‼️

during those off times (which can really vary what with null sector and the invasion and etc.), you both just try to relax as much as possible. sometimes niran gets really restless bc he just wants to save the world as soon as possible :(

but you remind him about how it takes time and even heroes need rest.

you tend to take care of him more during those off times because he just gets so anxious and he overthinks a bit.

you're very realistic with your goals, niran can get too optimistic, and it can really hurt him. but you keep him grounded.

mm.. let's move to a lighter topic now,,,,

his love language is physical touch and acts of service. his in game,,, everything just screams that to me idk

when he pulls you in his life grip and saves you 😍 (lowkey, i fall in love with those players who save my ass like that as a support player/j)

nah but real talk, when you come back to him in the grip, he slips a hand around your waist, "let me hold you a bit longer, hm?" I LOVE HIM FR FR ‼️‼️

anyways, he likes doing things for you. and the pda thing as mentioned before applies to the physical touch love language ofc

he has to have like a few seconds to gently guide your close to him with his hand on your lower back or to hold your hand. or just hold you in general.

he's the type of guy to say you have something your hair and goes to fix it but there was nothing, he wanted an excuse to make it a kdrama moment

he's like a bit dramatic but you love him for it you know?

he's a bit cheesy but he's cute so it's okay

he's always telling you how much he loves you. you dont do the same, at least not verbally

it's mostly physically/through actions. handing him things he didn't know he needed, buying him presents that made you think of him

very gift giving and acts of service

..

man this is longer than i thought it was gonna be... um..

idk if i should go further. someone request it and i'll write in-game interactions that would happen or describe flower protector! reader more. /hj

[blueeyedwriter]

Mistletoe - Armin Arlert AU

Summary : The whole friend group has a Christmas party to celebrate the most wonderful time of the year…who knew at this party, you’d also have the most wonderful kiss of the year with your best friend?

Notes : sorry everyone I DISAPPEARED for like…a month? Literally no creative energy flowing through me BUT i did want to make a short Armin AU fic because i love Armin and quite honestly would love to kiss him under the mistletoe too. Remember you can send requests to me!! Enjoy!! ❤️💚

—————

You were consumed by Christmas lights, loud music, and spiked eggnog as you were dancing your way throughout Eren and Mikasa’s house for their annual Christmas party. Ever since they got engaged and moved in together, the Holiday parties were hosted at theirs because it was most convenient for all the friends to fit under one roof. Everyone loved coming to their house for a party, because they were also conveniently the most festive hosts. They always had enough food, alcohol, and holiday spirit for twice the amount of people who came.

Your eyes scanned the room as you were trying to locate your best friend, Armin. You, Armin, Eren, and Mikasa have been a friend group since before you could remember. It was never awkward tagging along with Eren and Mikasa, because you had Armin. And not in the romantic sense, unfortunately, but it never ever felt like you were third wheeling because Armin made sure you had additional company too.

“Where could he possibly be?” You grumbled, turning the corner into the kitchen and finally spotting his bright blonde head of hair. Next to him, his long time crush Annie stood giggling and holding her drink in one hand, while twirling her hair in another. You rolled your eyes and decided maybe, it wasn’t a good idea to intervene whatever moment they might be having.

But, Armin spotted you before you could turn away, “Y/N!” You could hear the alcohol slipping off his tongue, and it made you softly smile because Armin rarely drank or allowed himself to have fun, “come over here!”

You didn’t want to, but you knew Armin would be upset if you didn’t, so you awkwardly made your way over to him and Annie. Annie smiled widely as you approached, not upset by the halt in their private conversation, which eased a weight off your shoulders.

“My girl,” Armin smiled as he threw an arm over your shoulder and pulled you close to him, “I feel like I haven’t seen you at all tonight!”

You chuckled as you tried to release his hold, but half his body weight was now on you, so you just let him have this moment of contact, “hey Armin, is Annie over here just letting you pound drinks one after another?”

Armin and Annie both laughed, and you softly groaned because that wasn’t you trying to be funny, you were just trying to tease them.

“I’ve been a good boy!” Armin protested, burping mid sentence, “I’ve only had about four beers…”

Annie interrupted, “and you’re on your second spiked eggnog now!”

Armin gasped, “Annie! You weren’t supposed to expose me like that!”

His grip around you tightened, and you couldn’t tell if it was from the alcohol, or his nerves. You supported him as best as you could, noticing his cheeks were turning a light pink. Definitely because Annie made him nervous, and a small piece of you wished it was you making him blush like that.

You loved Armin, and never wanted to cross any boundaries. He’s liked Annie ever since he realized what romantic feelings were, so you pushed any minor ones you had for him away, just wanting your friend to be happy. It was the least he deserved, after girls seemed to repeatedly reject him left and right. You never understood, because Armin was handsome in the innocent and royal type of way. He reminded you of a soft prince, who would never do anyone wrong. Not on purpose, at least. He never ever did you wrong.

Annie’s gaze diverted and her eyes widened, your head turning to see what, or who, she was looking at.

“It’s Reiner! I’m gonna go catch up with him,” now her cheeks were a light shade of pink, “I’ll see you guys later?”

You nodded sadly for your friend, but then realized he didn’t seem all too badly concerned by Annie leaving his side for Reiner’s attention. “Absolutely!” He said, a big smile beaming on his face, “talk to you later Annie!”

As Annie walked away, you nudged Armin with your shoulder, “you idiot! Why’d you let her walk off like that?”

Armin smiled lightly, looking down at you, “I wanna spend time with my girl who makes me feel like I’m always at the sea.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the cringey, yet sweet, compliment he gave you. It was effortless with him, but you never took anything from it because it’s how you and Armin have always been. Flirty, but strictly platonic.

“Alright you drunk boy,” you started to lead Armin out of the kitchen and towards the living room so you could rejoin your group of friends, “let’s go see where Eren and Mikasa are.”

Armin followed your lead but gasped loudly once you got into the hallway that leads into the living space. You had no idea why he gasped, and then abruptly stopped, until your gaze followed his towards the ceiling.

And hanging right down from it, was mistletoe. Of course Eren and Mikasa had mistletoe in their house. And of course, you and Armin were now under it.

“Y/N!” He exclaimed, “look! We have to!”

“Armin,” you started, allowing him to move so he was standing in front of you. He placed his hands by your waist, and the shift of energy in the room caught you by surprise once his hands touched a part of your body they never have before.

“Pleeeeaase Y/N? It’s just an innocent kiss! I’m drunk, make a drunk man happy!” He was practically begging now, and you sighed. You knew he meant it not in the way you would, but you just had to bury those feelings deep down again to make him happy, even if it makes you hurt on the inside. Like he said, you just wanted to make drunk, and later sober, Armin happy.

“Fine!” You caved, “but just one quick peck. Don’t want people to think I’m dating you!”

Armin smiled from ear to ear, and he quickly connected your lips with no hesitation. It was sudden, and you expected him to just pull right back after they came together for that second, but then he pulled your waist closer to his. He trailed one hand up your back as the other stayed placed on your hips, until his hand was in your hair and your lips were parting slightly for more. Your hands flew to wrap around his neck, as you felt his tongue swipe your teeth. You slowly opened your mouth more, allowing his tongue to start wrestling yours. Breaths were heavier now. Hearts were racing faster. You could have sworn you heard a soft whimper once you pulled away for some air, unable to contain yourself.

Armin continued to look down at you, until he went back in, this time only placing a quick peck to your lips before pulling away again.

“You,” Armin started, “are the sea. I could get lost swimming in you. Why haven’t you let me do that before?”

“I-I,” you were so flustered. You had no idea Armin could possibly feel the same way towards you. And to compare you to his favorite place, the sea?! “I just…I thought you wanted Annie for the longest time. We’re just friends, or I thought that’s all you wanted to be.”

Armin softly smiled as he brushed your cheek with his hand, tucking some hair behind your ear. It felt surreal how just a few minutes could change an entire dynamic, one that was in place for so long. But, this was a nice shift. One you have been waiting quite some time for.

“Yes, you’re my best friend,” Armin started, “but I have wanted to kiss my best friend for a little while now too.”

You chuckled softly and gave Armin a playful shove, as he grabbed your wrists and pulled you close to him again.

“Hey, Y/N and Arm-“ you heard someone, Eren, start to say as they turned into the hallway. Your eyes widened as you locked eyes with him, and he definitely understood what was happening before him.

“Oh, finally! Thank God for mistletoe!” Eren shrieked, turning back around, “Mikasa! They finally kissed!”

You and Armin started bursting out laughing from your friend’s reaction, your eyes meeting his, and his lips already coming down for another romantic kiss under the mistletoe.

It was a very Merry Christmas indeed.

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

OP characters catching you drawing them: Marco

I got lost in one character again.

Marco sat at his desk as he read a medical journal and ate a pineapple. It had been a fairly productive afternoon for him when you walked in and asked to hang out in his office. You had been bored because you finished your chores for the afternoon. When Marco nodded his head, you got comfy on his couch after you set out all of your drawing tools on the coffee table.

When the sun started to set, Marco set down the medical journal and stretched. He smacked his lips absentmindedly, as he looked over at you. He saw that you were awkwardly curled up on the couch, scribbling way at the page in your book. The blonde clicked his tongue and grumbled, "you're going to hurt your back sitting like that, if you haven't already."

You jumped, looking up at him with wide eyes, like you had forgotten that he was there. He smirked when you buried your face back in your book and mumbled, "I know that, but it's comfy."

And he was right, when you tried to stand up, you felt a sharp pain bolt through the left side of your back. Marco shook his head as he got up from his chair. "You are a silly creature sometimes."

You winced when he sat down next to you, and complained, "I know, you were right, can you please just heal it?" Marco scooped you into his arms, and rubbed his warm palm over your back. You sank into his arms as his healing powers spread through you and seeped into your bones. A flat thud distracted the blonde from fulling enjoying the feeling of your relaxed from limp in his arms. Your sketchbook laid open on the floor, showing him the vibrant drawing of himself on the page

Marco froze when he saw your coloring technique. It made something click in his head about color that he didn't understand before. It was like he was seeing color and actually processing it in depth for the first time. Like the shadows on his hand weren't gray, they were blue and dark pink with some yellows. And his flames weren't just turquoise and yellow, they were white and sky blue as well.

You looked up at him and asked, "Marco, why'd you stop?" He snapped out of his shock when you poked his cheek gasping for a breath he didn't know he was holding. "You drew that?"

Cocking a brow, you nodded your head in reply.

"It's amazing, I want to show it to pops." He laughed with a grin.

"Thank you, but I don't like people looking at my sketchbook. It's private like a journal." You stated firmly, fixing him with a stern stare.

The older man's grin widened, he pushed you off his lap and snatched up the book as he leapt to his feet. He didn't open it, merely dangled it out of your reach over you when you tried to retrieve it. "Oh really, makes me wonder what type of drawings you got in here?"

"Give it back."

Marco hummed as if in thought, "I'll trade you your book, for a kiss."

"Just a kiss huh." You purred, rolling your fist into a ball.

The blonde man grabbed your fist and clarified, "Your lips on my lips."

You rolled your eyes, as you deflated with a heavy sigh, "very well then."

He let go of your hand, and wrapped his arm around your waist pressing you against his bare chest. He breathed, "I hope that one of these days, you'll show me what's in your book." And he pulled you into a firm and consuming kiss, while slide the book into your hands.

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[legacyshenanigans]

The Gaunt Brothers🐍

Ominis had never been a fan of the Den. He didn't really like having to go there, and only went if he needed to. His father had sent him there to collect the business logs and books. Marvolo could have easily brought them home with him after his work, but Ominis figured his father just ENJOYED sending HIM to the Den because he knew he didn't really like it.

He stepped into the building, wearing his suit and cloak. Some of the staff looked over at him, knowing exactly who he was before going on about their business. Ominis made his way through the main bar area, hearing the chattering of folk and the loud music, the smell of alcohol and smoke in his nose as he passed, heading towards the exclusive area of the Den.

Once he'd passed those private doors and made his way down a corridor, other smells suddenly hit him, sweat and blood. The muffled mixed sounds of people shouting, laughing, screaming, and moaning filled his ears as he frowned slightly at the discomfort of it all. Heading towards the office, once behind the door of the office, he sighed, at least Marvolos office was more comfortable than being out there.

He searched the drawers holding up his wand, trying to find the logs he was looking for, but with no luck, an irritated grumble left his lips, knowing he'd have to down further into the Den to the basements which was where Marvolo likely was.

Ominis slowly made his way down the stairs to the basements, the sounds of upstairs slowly faded, a new sound coming in, classical music, it was weirdly calming considering the circumstances and where he was, an almost relaxed feeling, though he knew whatever Marvolo was doing in the basement was anything but relaxing. He could still smell blood, that wasn't going anywhere.

He opened the basement door, wandering in. Marvolo, who was hunched over a table, removing organs from a body and placing them in jars, looked up at him.

Marvolo: Ah, Brother. Let me guess, the books?

Ominis: Mhm.

Marvolo wandered over to a sink, washing his hands of blood and wiping them dry on a cloth before he made his way across the room, grabbing the logs and approaching Ominis.

Marvolo: Here.. *smirks* Father surely does LOVE sending you here, doesn't he? *chuckles*

Ominis: Urgh, yes..Seems so..He knows I hate it.

Marvolo: Which is why he does it..

Ominis: He never does things like that to you though. *small frown*

Marvolo: He does actually..

Ominis: Like what?

Marvolo: Sends me to events, meetings, and whatnot, knowing that I'll be surrounded by folk I cannot STAND. So it's not just you, Ominis.

Ominis: Oh boo hoo, you have to go to parties. *chuckles*

Marvolo: Yes, as I said, and engage with people I don't like..Its the same thing.

Ominis: I'd rather go to those things than this vile place, though.

Marvolo: *chuckles* Well, tell Father how much you'd hate going to the events that I have to go to, and he'll definitely send you..

Ominis: That's a good idea actually.

Marvolo reached back into the body, taking out the heart, and looking at it, Ominis heard the squelching of whatever he was doing.

Ominis: ...Do I want to know what you're doing right now?

Marvolo: *sinful smile* Probably not..

Ominis: Then I shan't ask..

~

[just-another-siimp]

Prison Break

Warnings: Canon Typical Violence, Graves bein Graves, Inaccurate Medical Practice, Injury descriptions, blood, torture? kinda, death threats, reader has brief ptsd moment. as always if I missed anything let me know <3

Authors Note: Holy shit you guys we've almost made it to the end! I originally planned for this to be a 3 part series but a 4th chapter will be posted in the coming days.

There are so many people that have helped me get to this point, especially @komorebiiiiiiii, @mauveserpent and @mydogeatscoffeecups who hype me up every time I say something about what i'm writing. As always likes, reblogs and comments fuel my serotonin, so if you enjoyed this please make sure to do so!

Word Count: 5k

Enemy at the Gate || Alone || Prison Break || Epilogue

The person looking back at you in the mirror was unrecognisable, a fresh bruise bloomed along your cheekbone from where Graves had hit you. Running water was all that kept you grounded, stopping you from diving deep into your thoughts. The soft scuff of shoes against concrete flooring reminded you that you weren’t alone, despite the fact that Graves had given you the opportunity to treat your wounds you were still at the mercy of his Shadows. An impatient sigh left the young Shadow who had been assigned to watch you, from the mirror you watched him impatiently adjust his stance again. Hand gripping his gun a fraction tighter. 

Taking a clean cloth you ran it under the warm water, movements purposely slow as you cleaned the dried blood from your face. The equipment you’d been given was minimal; riodine, gauze, bandages, basic suture kit and steri strips. Just enough to stabilising your wounds and nothing for the pain, probably for the best. If you were going to make it out of here alive you had to be at your best, use the training that the 141st had drilled into you. A plan was already formulating in your mind, all you needed to do was play the long game. For now.

“Why are you taking so long? It shouldn’t be taking this long.” The Shadow’s tone was frustrated, he took a step towards you, gun gesturing to the sink. “Hurry up.”

“Are you a medic, Private?” They’d called him that when he came to collect you, from the way he acted he was fresh to the mercenary game. An easy target if you really thought about it. Dropping the cloth into the sink you looked back at him, uncapping a bottle of Riodine as you raised an eyebrow at him. 

“No.” He spoke through gritted teeth, watching as you dabbed the Riodine directly to the graze on your forehead, biting back a hiss at the soft sting. 

“Why don’t you let me focus then? Or would you like me to take longer?” Your eyes met his through the mirror, lips curling as he stepped back to his original position. Under his breath he grumbled something about being a glorified babysitter, you were just glad that he didn’t have the gun trained on you anymore. With each Steri Strip you applied to your forehead the pain in your arm grew worse, from under your makeshift bandage the wound throbbed uncomfortably dread filled your chest at the thought of it being infected. 

“Hurry it up will you?” 

“I’m taking my shirt off now, Private. If you wouldn’t mind-” 

Fingering the hem of your shirt you pulled it up and over your head, you could’ve sworn the Privates cheeks heated up under the balaclava he wore as he turned away from you. Taking a chance you swiped the stitch cutter off of the sink, slipping it into the pocket of your jeans and continuing as though nothing had happened. It was easy to look at a bullet wound on anyone other than yourself, something in your stomach flipped and you felt like you were going to throw up. Gripping the sink you closed your eyes, waiting for the faint feeling to pass you thought of Soap and Ghost hoping that they weren’t injured and trying to do their own stitches.

“You’re dismissed, Private.” The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end, throat constricting as panic set in. Standing too quickly you whirled around to face the Shadow that had stalked you in Las Almas. He smirked at you. You glared back. The idea of refusing to go further in treating yourself came to mind, just to spite the man in front of you. Make his evening just that bit harder. Except Graves’ voice echoed in your mind, reminding you of the deal you had made. 

-

“Do we have a deal, Chip?” He was watching you intensely, it was as though he saw right through you. You could pretend to weigh up your options all you wanted but you’d already made up your mind, he knew that too. Nodding reluctantly you looked away from him, wincing as the restraints were cut from your wrists allowing blood flow back to your fingers. 

“I’ll tell Price to call off  Soap and Ghost, any retaliation plans against the Shadows will cease and the 141st will allow you and your men to continue with your mission.” Graves looked satisfied as you repeated his demands, remaining seated you glared up at him as he approached. 

“And if you fail?” You wanted to spit in his face, anything to wipe that smug shit eating grin off of his face,

“The Los Vaqueros will die.” 

-

“Liking what you see lil’ dove? Keep starin’ and I’ll have ta let ya take a photo.” His voice bought you back to the present, shooting him an icy glare you returned to facing the mirror. The necklace of bruises on your neck ached more, they seemed to grow a darker shade at his presence alone. Shaking your head you focused on unwrapping the makeshift bandage you’d created. From the corner of your eye you could see him leaning against the wall, arms folded over his chest as he watched you work. 

Blood trickled down your forearm, dipping down to your fingertips leaving dark crimson drops by your feet as you discarded the scraps of your shirt into the waste bin by your feet. The Skin around the bullet wound was raised, redness visible even under all of the dried blood. It was a miracle that the wound wasn’t infected, yet. This time you didn’t take your time treating the wound, nor did you rush. A through and through was easy to treat, no having to waste time trying to find a bullet if it wasn’t there. You’d done this hundreds of times before, it was easy. Right? Cleaning away the last of the dried blood you almost passed out, a shaky breath slipping past your lips as you glared at the suture kit. 

You were a medic, you’d treated wounds in the middle of a war zone, you were trained to mend the wounds of the people who served alongside you. Yet you couldn’t treat your own. Tears stung at your eyes, breathing becoming uneven as the frustration set in. Alongside the exhaustion it threatened to leave you a blubbering mess. If Gaz were here he would’ve steadied you, forced you to sit until the Captain could come and treat your wounds for you. If it were Soap he’d brush your tears away, say something in Scottish to make you laugh while Ghost told you both to shut up and let him focus. It made you realise just how important they all were to you, the 141st was your family and you missed them dearly. 

“‘Aight i’ve had enough of watching ya stare at that suture kit like it’s gonna kill ya.” He’s approaching you before you can stop him, not that you think you could. It didn’t stop you from backing up slightly, hand reaching up to protect yourself out of reflex. “Now now, darlin. If I wanted you dead I’d have killed ya already, I’m just gonna help ya. S’all.”

“Riveting speech.” The Shadows hand was on your shoulder now, guiding you to sit by the basin propping your injured arm up on the sink. For someone who had his hands wrapped around your throat less than 24 hours ago, he was oddly gentle. “Forgive me for not trusting you.” 

“Could bring the Private back in? Pretty sure he was going to lose his lunch if he kept watchin ya. Don’t think he’d be that nice to you either, probably never met a medic that could never treat their wounds.” That wouldn’t be the brightest idea, he’d probably faint himself if he so much as looked at the wound let alone treat it. You glared at the man in front of you instead of responding, a last ditch effort to act tough. “I’ll take that as a no.” 

He was putting on sterile gloves, hand reaching for the needle and thread. You looked away. Silently wishing that you weren’t squeamish to treat your own injuries. 

“Do you have a name?” A distraction, that would help. 

“I do, but that’s somethin’ for first dates sweets.” You rolled your eyes, knee bouncing slightly as he took a seat gaze focused on your arm. “Everyone calls me Komorebi, it means-” 

“Sunlight that filters through trees.” You cut him off, rather proud you’d remembered the Japanese word. The pinch of the needle dug into your skin, you swore under your breath trying not to flinch away from the pain. He chuckled. 

“Surprised ya know. Not everyone does.” 

“Where are you from?” 

“Earth.” 

It went on like this for a while, you asked questions and he gave you half hearted answers. Despite the company it was a welcome distraction, before you knew it the stitches were complete and Komorebi even gave you the chance to inspect his work. For someone who wasn’t a medic it was good, better than good really. The stitches were so neat they almost outdid Ghosts. 

“These are really good- who taught you?” 

“My husband.” That’s right, despite all of the messed up things the Shadows had done they were still human. Some of them had a life outside all of this, someone to go home to at the end of a tough mission. Komorebi had finished wrapping the bandage around your arm, it was rather tight but not uncomfortable at the same time. Before you could continue the conversation he silenced you. “Communications is ready for you now, I’ll escort you down.” 

There was no chance to protest, you didn’t even have the chance to thank him before you were plunged into darkness. Another set of footsteps approached, hand tilting your head to the side baring your neck to the unknown Shadow. A sharp pinch, a muffled apology and everything stopped.  

- 

“I don’t understand why you drugged them, what’s a combat medic gonna do-” The Private had returned, staring at your barely conscious body.

“They’re not just a combat medic, they’re a part of the 141st. That makes them a threat.” 

When the bag was ripped from your head loose strands of hair were tugged at, the roughness of the action leaving a sharp sting that brought you back to reality. The drugs were still working their way through your system, time and space seeming to move differently in the dark place that you found yourself in. It was hard to keep your head up, stopping it from dipping to your chest. Your stomach churned at the putrid smell of cheap cigarettes, bile rising in your throat as the smoke was blown directly into your face. A door opened and closed, you were left alone. It took an effort to open your eyes, when you did you were only met with more darkness. 

Blinking a few times you adjusted to your new surroundings, gaze landing on the blinking red light in front of you. It was an intimidation tactic, an attempt to amp up your anxiety by leaving you in the dark wondering what horrors were to come. For a long time you hadn’t been afraid of the dark, more so what hid in the shadows. Straining your ears you tried to listen for something, anything that would give you a hint of what was behind that door. 

You were met with nothing. 

-

Alejandro’s Safe House - Las Almas 

Since they’d arrived at the safe house he hadn’t stopped pacing, betrayal was one thing but taking one of their own, their medic, their Chip? As much as he’d wanted to Ghost, knew that he couldn’t go in there guns blazing he had to be smart, ensure the safety of Alejandro and the Los Vaqueros as well as yourself. Johnny’s anger left him almost unrecognisable, he swore under his breath muttering something about how kidnapping Chip was crossing a line no man should cross. Clapping a hand on the man's shoulder he did his best to offer reassurance. 

“We’ll get them back, Johnny.”

“We better or I’m going to kill that so-” 

- 

A few hours had passed since you’d woken, the drugs had worn off fog finally clearing from your mind allowing you to formulate a rough plan. At first Price had been adverse to the idea of a medic joining the 141st in the field, he knew that eventually one would be needed but he’d planned on digging his heels in until Laswell forced one on him. That was until Russia, you’d proved your worth as both a medic and a soldier that day. He forced Laswell’s hand, pulling you from your current assignment just to have you on his team. He’d sat you down the moment you entered the base, joking that if he was going to have a medic he wanted it to be you. You were flattered, thinking about it made you miss him more. 

That’s why it was important for you to keep it together. Price thought that you were good enough for the 141st and you didn’t want to disappoint him. The Shadows were right, you were 141st and that alone made you a threat, medic or not.

In your back pocket you could feel the sharp pinch of the stitch cutters digging into your flesh, it wasn’t a weapon but it was sharp enough to cut through the plastic of the zip ties that bound your hands together. Leaning back against the chair you lifted your hips, fingers slipping into your pocket pulling the object out and securing it between your fingers. You weren’t sure how much time you had left alone, so you got to work careful not to cut through the whole way just enough to snap the ties the minute you had a chance to escape. 

The door swung open, slamming against the wall. The sound was so loud that you flinched, bright lights pointed directly at you as two Shadows entered the room. In the corner of your eye you caught the red blinking light stop, a solid red staring directly at you. It belonged to a camera, this was proof of life.

-

“State your name for the record.” 

“It’s Chip.”

“Not your callsign, your full name.” 

“Potato Chip.” 

The Shadow’s fist connected with your cheek, head falling to the side as pain radiated across your the side of your face. Your name was something precious a secret that could never be spilt not even to save your life, it was worth any amount of pain they threw at you to protect it. Taking a deep breath you picked your head back up, staring directly at the camera. 

“This is a direct message to Captain John Price of the 141st from Commander Graves of Shadow Company.” You started, voice firm as the Shadow behind you cocked his weapon. A silent warning for you not to say something stupid. Looking into the camera you hoped that Price understood what you were asking of him “I am sure by now that you are aware of what has happened in Las Almas, in order to ensure that Shadow company can continue their mission with no further distractions he has asked that the 141st does not retaliate in anyway.” 

“Once our mission is completed we will release your Medic into your custody.” The Shadow behind you interrupted, gun pointed at your head as he continued with his threat. “Any form of retaliation will result in immediate execution.” 

“Captain, listen to me. I know it’s hard to understand what is going on, I’m sure that you’re just as confused as I am.” The Shadows were watching you intently, trying to figure out what you were trying to say. “It’s not worth it. Please don’t disregard what I say and do it anyway.”

 Again the bag was put over your head, injured arm grabbed roughly as you were pulled upwards and out of the room. All you could do was hope that Price could understand the words you spoke with extra emphasis. Not that the message would get out to him anyway. 

- 

They were moving you to another building, the cool bite of evening air chilling your exposed skin. A helicopter flew overhead, you were pulled along roughly struggling to keep up with the Shadow. Silence loomed once the helicopter was gone, coming to a sudden halt you strained your ears, expecting to hear a knock or a car drive by. Except there was nothing, only the familiar feeling of eyes watching you. Continuing the surface under your feet changed, gravel crunching under your feet. As far as you could tell you and the Shadow were alone, so why could you hear a third pair of footsteps amongst your own? 

Everything was moving far too quickly, the hand that had been holding you was now gone. A strangled cry was followed by a thud to your right, shuffle of feet to your left throwing you off. This could be your only chance to escape, taking a risk you snapped the zip ties. Instinct told you to pull off the hood and run, fate had other plans. The hood was pulled off, gloved hand covering your mouth and an arm wrapping around your waist to pull you back behind a car. They weren’t rough with you, not like the Shadows had been. It was as if they were being careful not to injure you further, once behind cover you were turned around. You were met with gentle brown eyes and a concerned smile. 

“Rudy..” Your voice was barely above a whisper, there were a thousand questions running through your mind. Had he been captured as well? Was he escaping and just so happened to stumble across you? Those questions could wait. He’d pulled you into a hug, arms wrapped tight around your shoulders. It was grounding, easing the wild beating of your heart as he rubbed soothing circles on your shoulder. He only released you once Ghost and Soap began their approach. 

Soap was the first to reach you, hands cupping your cheeks before checking over you. It was a tender moment, he’d held you at arms length, eyes staring into yours before pulling you into a bone crushing hug. Ghost was quick to remind you both that this wasn’t friendly territory. Even once the Scot pulled away you smiled at Ghost, shuffling over to him. His large hand cupped your cheek before patting you on the shoulder. Always the professional he was, wasting no time to arm you with a battle rifle and medical kit. He grumbled at you to stick to Soap’s six, the four of you making your way through the prison's main complex. You tried not to think that you would’ve been taken here if the Shadow had well.. made it.

A short trip up the stairs later and you were at Alejandro’s cell, Soap entering first followed by Rudy while you remained outside the cell with Ghost. You checked the stairwell one last time, checking the Shadows for Komorebi not wanting to be caught up with him again. Even if you had the others to fall back on. Hearing a commotion behind you there was no choice but to turn back, tension bled from your shoulders when you saw the Colonel alive and well, with only a bruise blooming on his cheek. He passed Ghost clapping him on the shoulder, approaching you with what could only be described as a proud smile. 

“Ah! Papa’s Fritas, you made it out of Las Almas alive.” You laughed at the nickname, shaking your head as he wrapped you up in a hug, lips pressing to your cheek before letting you go. It was hard to ignore the way your cheeks burnt, and how Soap looked like he was about to piss himself laughing at your reaction. 

“Almost made it out, got caught and ended up here.” He gave you a sympathetic look, patting your shoulder before getting back to the task at hand. Freeing the Los Vaqueros was the main priority, you could all regroup and exchange stories. 

-

There was barely a chance to register what was going on in your surroundings, the concrete pillar you’d taken cover behind cracked at the onslaught of bullets that were fired directly into it. Soap was ground next to you, returning fire as guns were reloaded on both sides. You both pushed forward, hand resting on the back of his tac vest reminding him that you were directly behind him. Helicopter blades thundered overhead, forcing you both to a screaming halt behind a divider. That was one thing that could potentially ruin escape for all of you. 

If you’d blinked you would’ve missed the RPG striking the tail of the Helo, it spun out of control and hurtled towards the ground in a ball of fire. Except no one was paying attention to the crash, instead their focus was on the green glow stick that had been thrown to the base of the wall. You suspected that the familiar figure standing atop the wall was none other than Captain Price, thoughts confirmed when the shadow of his bucket hat was caught in your sights. You and Soap were the first to reach the wall.

“On ya go Hen, I’ll be right behind you.” This was the fun part, clinging to the ascender you were up the wall in seconds, Price was quick to grab you by the wrist pulling you the rest of the way up. 

There was little time for reunions with Soap and the others close behind you, catching sight of Gaz you swore your heart skipped a beat. The distance between you both was closed in seconds, you were wrapped in his embrace as though there wasn’t a battle going on behind you. Letting go of him your fingers slipped through his before fist bumping him. A handshake months in the making, you were both uncoordinated and it sure needed a hell of a lot of work but tradition was tradition. It would be bad luck if you didn’t do it. 

“My men need cover.” Alejandro’s voice held authority, concern for his men's wellbeing something you’d always respected him for. He’d always put their safety over his own. Price nodded barking out orders to Soap, Ghost and Gaz before turning to you. 

“Chip. We’ll see you at the bottom of the wall. Go!” 

“Yes, Sir.” It was hard to leave their side but you didn’t need to be told twice, moving to the edge of the wall and allowing one of the Los Vaqueros down before you. Taking one last look at the prison complex you notice Komorebi, standing amongst the dead Shadows. You couldn’t see his eyes but it felt as though he was staring directly at you. As you began your descent to the bottom of the wall guilt crept upwards, settling in your throat. 

Was it such a bad thing to hope that he would make it out of there alive? Go back home to his husband, learn how to do stupidly good stitches. To return to a sense of normalcy even if it wasn’t deserved? Who were you to judge what he did and did not deserve? As your feet hit solid ground you shook your head, pushing the thought to the back of your mind. 

-

The soft pattering of rain against the tinted windows of the van kept you awake, the revelation of what Shadow Company and Shepard had done left you lost for words. Silence had fallen over the van like a blanket, it threatened to suffocate all of you. As adrenaline seeped out of your tired bones it left a wave of pain and nausea, the events of the last few days starting to catch up. You leaned forward elbows digging into your thighs, fingers locking behind your neck as you closed your eyes trying to force the feeling away. You could feel Gaz watching you through the rear view mirror, Price had turned around adding to the concerned looks that were thrown your way. 

“Scoot over, Bonnie.” Soap was the first to break the silence, you did as he’d asked only stopping when your hip bumped against Ghosts’. He didn’t seem to mind. Exhaustion had overtaken you, fighting sleep was hard especially when Soap closed the space between you pulling you back to rest your head against his shoulder. It was warm, the presence of both Soap and Ghost comforting until all three of you were startled by a sudden pot hole. Gaz’s voice sounded far away when he apologised, Price making a comment about revoking his driving privileges. In the commotion Ghost’s hand had ‘accidentally’ fell to rest on your arm, index and middle finger resting above the pulse point on your wrist.

“You did good in there, Kid.” He gave you a gentle nudge, keeping his hand there. You didn’t say a word, only leeching off of the warmth that Soap radiated. The hum of the engine and the rock of the van lulling you to sleep, Soaps arm eventually wrapping around you keeping you safe.

Keeping away the feeling of being. 

Alone.

-

There were no showers at Alejandro’s safe house, that didn’t really matter to you as much. Soap had bought you a cup of coffee, the first one in three days and suddenly you were reminded why Coffee was no good on an empty stomach. The bathroom was small, three cubicle’s and a metal sink that lined the wall. You were grateful that it was empty, taking a small moment to steal yourself away and focus on the silence. The water was cool as it ran over your hands, bringing it to your face you were able to soothe the warmth that seemed to cover your face and neck. 

Since returning to the safehouse you’d been smothered by Soap, he watched over you like a mother hen would a chook. He’d held your hand while Ghost fixed up the stitches on your arm, made you laugh when you thought you were about to cry. Staring at yourself in the mirror you tried to ignore the bruises that were left behind, the purple-blue hue that formed along your cheekbone. The reddish-purple ring around your neck that no one wanted to acknowledge.  No one had spoken about what happened in Las Almas that fateful night, secretly you hoped it would stay that way but from both a clinical perspective and for your report. The details would eventually have to be discussed. 

It was an overwhelming thought, having to recount what you had seen in Las Almas. Explain how you had watched people murdered in their own homes, how the Shadows had taken no mercy on the innocent few mixed amongst the cartel. There was so much blood that coated that town, suddenly the cool water on your face was no longer comforting. You felt too warm, too crowded in such a small space. 

Behind you the door swung open looking through the mirror you saw him, Komorebi stood at the entrance staring at you with emotionless eyes. Fear overwhelmed you, hand reaching to your hip where your gun had been waiting for you. By the time you’d turned around the Shadow had disappeared, instead replaced with Price, whose hands were raised but no real look of concern on his face. Not one that screamed ‘don’t shoot me’ at least. 

You swallowed thickly, blinking back tears as your hand fell to your side. He lowered his hands, keeping them visible showing that he was not a threat to you. Opening your mouth to apologise nothing came out, all you could do was look away ashamed at your actions. It was your job to protect these men, yet here you were about to point a gun at your own Captain. 

“Sorry I startled you.” He started out softly, footsteps slow to approach eventually stopping leaning against the sink next to you. There was silence as you calmed down, he waited for you to speak to him not forcing you into anything. It gave you the chance to even out your breathing again, though it didn’t change the way your heart hammered in your chest. 

“I’m sorry, Sir. I thought-” 

“You went through hell in Las Almas, Chip. I’m not mad at you for being on guard.” Satisfied that you were calm enough now he shifted his position, coming to stand in front of you arms folded over his chest as he leaned all of his weight into his left leg. He wasn’t mad at you for almost shooting him, that news alone was enough for the tears to start streaming down your cheeks. “We would’ve come anyway, regardless of whether or not you thought you were worth it.” 

Deep down you weren’t crying because Price didn’t care that you’d almost gone and shot him, the emotions you’d tried so hard to push down were flooding your senses. A choked sob was all that left you as Price pulled you to him, hand resting on the back of your head as he held you close. Swaying gently while your hands clung to the back of his jacket, soft sobs filling the bathroom as he let you cry. 

“It’s alright, love. You’re not alone anymore.”

Taglist: @komorebiiiiiiii @mauveserpent @mydogeatscoffeecups @reiya-djarin @underatreedrinkingtea @blueoorchid @poohkie90 @kult6 @watermaylon-writes @boxofgasoline @cumbersome-robes @frazie99 @bowserowser @urfavsunkissedleo @kyuupidwrites @omgitstatertot @justpeachiixx @trashy-panda777 @msecho19 @spinkeydinkey @whoreforhorror

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

Can you do Bachelors reacting to using the Farmer’s Return Scepter/any of their Warp Obelisks on the farm for the first time? I wanna know which ones would love it and which ones would get motion sickness up the wazoo lmao.

Get ready, anon. The post turned out to be a little larger than I expected 😅

Thank you for your ask) Enjoy!

Bachelors react to Farmer using Return scepter/warp obelisks for the first time:

Elliott:

Oh, what a wonderful morning for Elliott! Beautiful sunrise, pleasant sea breeze, magnificent! Elliott is also happy because yesterday he finally finished the last chapter of his new novel. He went out to the sandy shore to get some fresh air, and noticed the Farmer on the shore. Perfect, they were the ones he wanted to talk to about his book.

"Farmer, my dear friend, good morning! I would like to invite you to a screening of my new novel, which will be in..."

Before Elliott could finish speaking, Farmer's figure vanished from his field of vision in the blink of an eye.

...

Excuse me, what?

Then the Farmer appeared as quickly as they disappeared. They set crab traps on the seashore and disappeared again. And they appeared again, and disappeared again, and again...

Poor Elliott was already beginning to get motion sick at the sight of this picture, so he quickly ran up to the Farmer as they teleported back to the shore and asked him to stop for a moment.

"My friend, please dispel my doubts and tell me that you really just disappeared several times, otherwise I will think that I have lost my mind."

The Farmer reassured Elliott and pointed to their magical scepter, also mentioned for the obelisks, one of which transports the Farmer straight to the shore.

Elliott overcame his strong desire to try the magic scepter for new sensations. Maybe next time, because he recently had breakfast, and would not want his vestibular apparatus to withstand such attractions due to chaotic teleportation.

Shane:

...

What the fuck just happened?

......

Looks like he shouldn't have drunk that expired beer from JojaMart. Not only did he recently have indigestion, but he also began to hallucinate. Teleporting people, bluh...

Unfortunately to him, the incident with the Farmer's teleport right in front of his face happened again, but this time - Shane is sober.

...............

Is he out of his mind?

The next day, he quickly catches up with the Farmer and asks them to step aside so they can talk in private. Asking about those cases with teleportation, Shane expected a mockery from the young Farmer and advice to stop drinking so much alcohol.

Except the Farmer does not taunt him, but nods their head, showing Shane the golden scepter and thus confirming their words.

Shane has... mixed emotions about this.

Because he was convinced that there was nothing in the world that science could not prove.

And now, here we fucking go - magic and crap, for fuck's sakes.

Give him goddamn break.

Sam:

Wow! Amazing!

Sam wanted to invite them to hang out together on the beach, but before he could even say a word, the Farmer raised the golden scepter into the air and disappeared somewhere.

The next day, he immediately finds them and asks what was that.

Return scepter? Can he try it too?

The Farmer gave him the scepter to use once, and Sam was completely shocked by what was happening. They were near his house, and now they are on the porch of the farm. That is so cool!

Now Sam doesn't stop talking about the magic scepter.

How does it work? Were they drifted from the dimensional holes, or did they get stuck in the wall? Does the scepter only transfer to the farm? Can he teleport to Zuzu City? There's a great eatery that serves the best pizza in the world and..

Oh Yoba, Sam, please...

He begs them to let him use this magic item to prank Lewis.

If the Farmer refuses, explaining that this is not a toy, then Sam will be cool with that, although he will still grumble a little about such a lost opportunity to poke the mayor.

But If the Farmer agrees... Oh ho ho, Lewis will only dream of peace now...

Harvey:

Unfortunately, there was so much work accumulated over the past week that Harvey had to sit with documents until late in the night. The Farmer, seeing how tired the doctor is even on weekends, offer him some help, to which he politely refuses, not wanting to pile work on an already very busy friend.

And yet, when Harvey almost fell asleep right on his desk on another weekday, the Farmer entered the clinic door, with a homemade pickles and a cup of hot coffee as a gift for a workaholic.

Harvey said they shouldn't have done it, but the Farmer insisted that at least a strong coffee would keep him on his toes.

"Oh, I forgot the truffle oil at home! I'll be back in one moment."

"Really, Farmer, you shouldn't..."

The Farmer lifted up the strange staff and vanished out of the blue.

....

That's it, congratulations Harv. He's finally went cuckoo, they told him many times not to overwork, but who did he listen to, what kind of doctor is he after that.

The Farmer appeared before Harvey's gaze with a bottle of the promised truffle oil.

And at that moment, Harvey chuckled softly... and fainted.

The Farmer has a very long time to bring the feeling of Harvey, to apologize to the doctor for such a sudden disappearance, to scold him for bringing himself to such a state, and to explain how the obelisks and the return scepter work.

Yeah, Harvey will have to drink something stronger than coffee after this...

Alex:

Alex noticed the Farmer near the strange cylindrical buildings on the farm, and before he could call out to them, he saw how they touched one of the pillars and... disappeared!?

What????

Surprised Pikachu face :O

Alex, forgetting everything in the world, immediately ran towards the obelisks, looking at each of them for a minute.

He decided to touch the very obelisk that they touched and... Wow! Where is he? Oh, it's Ginger Island! And the Farmer is here too.

Alex at first, excitedly, asks them what the buildings are that brought them both to the island. Not understanding Farmer's explanation, he heard one word explaining it all: magic.

Ah, ok

...

So, the Farmer has the ability to arrive at Ginger Island even if Willy can't bring them by boat for some reason, right? 😏

Hey, don't look at him like that, it's a boring winter in the valley and he'd love to hang out on a tropical beach.

Okay, Farmer gave him permission to use this obelisk.

"Cool, thanks! By the way, how are we going to get back to the Valley without Willy's boat?"

"Oh, I'm just using my return scepter and..."

The Farmer left the scepter at home on the farm. Oops...

Sebastian:

Sebby went out for a smoke near a mountain lake until he heard the Farmer running straight to the door of his house. Huh, they must have gone to his mom's to buy furniture or order new farm building. Five minutes later they went outside again.

"I understand Robin, give me a minute I will come and bring the wood you needed!"

So they decide to build something, a shed or another coop? Still, Sebastian is not sure that they will have time to bring so much wood in just a one minute, before the shop is closed. Although the farm is nearby, it's not close to walk to it, and...

The Farmer has disappeared with a magical pop. Out of the blue. Like poof - and gone. Then returned a minute later, as promised, with wood for the order, and went inside the house to give Robin the necessary resources.

Sebastian was so shocked by what had happened that he dropped the cigarette from his mouth.

They went outside again and were about to raise the Return scepter into the air when Sebastian called out to them in a low voice.

"Return scepter? Cool. Can I look at it? If you don't mind, of course."

The Farmer suggested that Sebastian try using the artifact. The sensations were indescribable. The Farmer and Sebastian were enveloped in a light magical haze, he felt a pleasant tingling, and in a moment they were both at the farm.

They invited Sebastian home to talk about this artifact that interested him and drink a cup of coffee. Sebby accepted the invitation, there's nothing to do in the evening anyway.

[cissyenthusiast010155]

hello! i've been reading again your amazing fics and im too shy to request this since a lot of people are already requesting for a part 2 of unexpected desires.... but may i please request for it to have multiple parts, like drunk on you. if this burdens you, it's fine if you wouldn't accept. i am still a fan of your writing 💓

Hey hey hey!! Here’s part 3 for you, anon <33 Thank you for your kind words! ♥️ Hope you Enjoy!! 💞💞

Unexpected Desires Part 3 ~Dom!Lady Lesso xSub!Dovey xDom!Anemone xFem Sub!Reader

Part 1, Part 2

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!, implied smut, teasing, flustering, polyamory, implied future smut, etc.

Enjoy (;

Lesso then scooped you up from underneath, your legs being jelly and unable to walk, and she carried you to the bathroom.

“Relax love, mommy will be back shortly…” Lesso placed you in the tub with a short kiss to your forehead. But when the three women returned to the bathroom, all they found was you snoring lightly and peacefully in the warm water.

~~~

All four of you quickly realized that after that night things became quickly complicated…

This dynamic was something that was wanted by all of you, but none of you wanted it to get in the way of your jobs or your student’s learning. So you all tried to keep things under the radar. Key word in tried…

“Hey Y/N…?” Dovey called out to you.

You perked your head up toward the brunette, standing at the doorstep of your office.

“Clarissa…! Come in!” You immediately responded.

The brunette nodded and entered the room, closing the door behind her. She came up to your desk, fiddling with her fingers and her feet tapping lightly and quickly.

“What’s up?” You asked.

Her eyes darted side to side before she began.

“Well I… I have a… dilemma.” Clarissa breathed out, “And I went to Leo, she’s busy. And then I went to Emma, and she’s off campus. So… I’m here…”

You were confused, until you looked up from your work at the brunette. Her hair was frizzed, her breathing shallow, her pupils dilated.

“Oh… Um Well, maybe I can try to help…?” You suggested.

Clarissa seemed very relieved by your words and she immediately agreed and thanked you. You lead her to your private quarters, and you began undressing each other. If you were being honest, you were quite needy as of late as well and could defiantly benefit from letting some steam loose.

You and Clarissa tried a multitude of positions, kinks, toys, tactics, and things, but nothing seemed to be working. Neither of you seemed to be able to scratch that itch you both do desperately needed resolved.

You both sat down on the edge of your bed, exhausted, but no closer to your goals.

“Sorry I couldn’t help…” you muttered.

“Nonsense. Not your fault, Dear.” Clarissa comforted you, “We need…” she paused,

“Emma and Leo…”

You both said simultaneously. This caused you both to chuckle.

“Ok, let’s go ask them…” you sighed, standing up and going to put your clothes back on.

You both did the walk of shame to Leonora’s office, as Emma wouldn’t be back until later tonight. You knocked at the redheads door and entered when she called you in. As soon as the two of you stepped inside the room and Leonora looked up, she immediately picked up your dilemma.

“You two smell like sex…” Leonora chuckled, teasingly.

“Shut up…” you grumbled.

Clarissa eyed you, telling you to be nice with her eyes.

“Leo, my sweet…?” Clarissa hummed, Leonora turned her attention to the other woman, “We need your help. Please.”

“Yes… That is very evident…” Lesso chuckled, her eyes raking up and down your frames.

“Please Leo…” you whispered.

Leonora looked back to you. She stared you down, thinking about your ask.

“Alright fine. Let me finish my work. Meet me in my quarters in fifteen minutes.” Lesso sighed in defeat.

You and Clarissa practically jumped up and down in joy and excitement. You mowed eagerly and both thanked the redhead, before rushing to her private quarters.

You both couldn’t wait…!!

~~~

Leonora Lesso Masterlist

Clarissa Dovey Masterlist

[vansmaybeonthewall]

it takes GUTS

summary: the one where Jamie needs his sister's help. and the one where Jamie actually helped you figure out your love life.

will kitman x reader

jamie tartt x sister!reader

word count: 6.1k

author's note: here we are, you and me, me and you. this turned out longer than expected, curse the screenwriter in me. but i do hope you enjoy <3

warnings: cursing, light smut, allusion to smut

Time. 2-1.

The crowd jumps and the cheers are deafening. Richmond players storm the pitch and throw themselves at their fellow teammates. It wasn’t an easy win, but a final-minute goal secured their spot. It felt almost dream-like, so of course, it called for a celebration. Chanting echoes off the walls as they make their way back to the locker room. Talks of celebration filled the room but it all came to a grinding halt when Sam mentioned the club they were planning to go to, was closed. Cue the multiple groans and moans of anguish and disappointment. Jamie, however, stood silent.

“What the fuck are you thinking about?”

Roy, the everloving burst of sunshine, broke his thought bubble. Jamie looks at his teammates' expectant faces and sighed. This is not where he was picturing his night to be going. On one hand, he’d be able to celebrate with his team in a more private setting, but then again…Oh fuck it.

“I got a place we could go to.”

And the cheers resume.

“But, I do have to call first.”

And the groans are back. Pulling out his phone, Jamie leaves the room. It rings seemingly forever until the other person picks up. Loud music has Jamie pulling the phone away from his ear.

“Jamie!! What do I owe the pleasure?”

“Remember that favor you owe me?”

“Obviously. You always remind me after I ask you for something. ‘I got ya a sandwich from the shop, you owe meh. This shirt made me think of ya. ‘Oh thanks Jamie!’ ‘Now can ya buy meh these shoes.’”

“You think you’re so funny-”

He pauses before it turns into a back-and-forth game of throwing insults to see who seethes in anger first. Jamie explains his predicament and shuts his eyes, hoping for a positive answer. It’s silent.

“Please, winger. I’ll…I’ll let you come watch drills. I know how much you enjoy that shit you weirdo.”

“I’m so gonna make you regret that. Deal striker.”

Jamie punches the air and expresses his gratitude. Walking back into the locker room, all heads turn to him. Jamie being Jamie, takes the moment to be cocky until he’s hit over the head. Rubbing the sore spot, he grumbles about their invitation. And while they are happy they have somewhere to get absolutely sloshed, Ted wonders who he had to call and why he needed an invite.

“Now hold on gang. Jamie, where is it that we’re going?”

Jamie looks around with a smirk on his face. “You’re gonna love this.”

~

Pulling up to the club, which they now knew was private, the boys were surprised to be standing in front of an old bookstore. Although confused, they follow Jamie quietly through the store. Upon reaching the back corner, an employee sits up in his seat. Jamie utters a word and a bookcase opens to reveal a secret door. Excitement rises as the team walks through. The sound of music and people cheering reach their ears. The scene leaves all of them besides Jamie speechless. It was such an open space hidden behind the walls of an old shop.

“Lads, welcome to Seventh Heaven.”

The crowd gets louder near the bar. At the center of it all is you, standing on the counter chugging a cup of whatever mixed drink was handed to you. You throw your hands up with a sour look on your face. As the cheers and chants of your name fuel your ego, you spot Jamie & co making their way to you. Jumping off the counter, you maneuver through the now dissipating crowd.

“Tartt-breaker number two! You made it.”

“The fuck you mean two? You’re two if anything.”

“Fuck off, I’m number one dickhead.”

“Oi!”

The shouting behind Jamie gets your attention, suddenly remembering you invited the whole team. Shoving Jamie out of the way, you step forward and introduce yourself. Roy, in his lovely Roy Kent manner, asks exactly who the fuck you are. You slowly turn your head towards Jamie, who almost shrinks at your stare.

“You absolute fuckhead.”

“I haven’t done anything!”

“Did you not tell them who I was?”

“You know, that hasn’t really come up…”

Turning to Jamie’s teammates, you drop the bomb.

“I’m Jamie’s sister.”

The uproar commences. They start yelling at Jamie, him trying to defend himself and you watching the drama you caused. The coaches attempt to quiet the yelling but it doesn’t seem to work. Feeling someone stop next to you, you glance to your left. There stands a boy you don’t recognize as one of Jamie’s teammates, but one you saw walk in with them.

“You’re not one of Jamie’s teammates are you?”

Will, almost frantically, turns to you.

“Oh no, I’m just, just Will.”

“Well, just Will, would you mind telling them I have somewhere to be? Remind Jamie drinks are on me, fucking knobhead probably forgot.”

Will stutters out a yes. Smiling, you squeeze his shoulder in thanks before disappearing.

~

After plenty of hounding from the team and Jamie’s pitiful defenses, they scattered thoughout the club in groups. Jamie took it upon himself to show whoever was interested around the place. At first it was Keeley who then dragged Roy who in turn somehow dragged Will into experiencing ‘the grand tour’. Waiters and bartenders greet Jamie as they pass by, confusing his followers. They reconvene with Colin and Sam near the stage, but before they can start a conversation, the lights dim. Whistles and whoops are soon drowned out by drums and the strums of a bass. As the spotlights come up on the stage, there stood you dancing and prancing with another bandmember.

Your appearance garners the attention of Jamie’s team and the younger women in the club. Keeley yells a ‘Holy fuck’ before running towards the makeshift pit.

–

I met a guy in the summer, and I left him in the spring

He argued with me about everything

I wanna get him back

I wanna make him really jealous, wanna make him feel bad

–

God, love's fuckin' embarrassin'

Just watch as I crucify myself

For some weird second string

Loser who's not worth mentioning

My God, love's embarrassing as hell

–

I could change up my body and change up my face

I could try every lipstick in every shade

But I'd always feel the same

'Cause pretty isn't pretty enough anyway

–

Bowing dramatically, you and your bandmates almost trip over each other as you race through the curtains. Leaning against a wall, you catch your breath as they plan the rest of their night away. Before exiting back into the lounge area, they call after you. You wave them off, saying you needed a minute. As soon as they are out of sight, you sink onto the floor. Fanning your face, you try to beat the rapid onset of tears from falling down your face.

They love you, why do you need so much reassurance? You squeeze your eyes shut. Stop thinking you’re the only one being hurt here. Shaking off the repeating voices in your head, you stand. Practicing a fake smile, you open the door. Discreetly making your way back to the bar, Jamie finds you first.

“Why didn’t you tell me you made new music?”

“I was-”

Jamie cuts you off, saying you both needed a drink together to celebrate both of your successes. You’re left with Keeley, Roy, and Will.

“I didn’t know that was you babe! I fucking love your music!”

She squeezes your shoulders before following in Jamie’s direction. Roy nods at you, leaving a star-struck Will in front of you. He opens his mouth to say something but is interrupted with Jamie’s return. He hands you one of the drinks and says some speech about being proud or what not. But you’re not listening, because as soon as Jamie says the word, you knock it back. The burning sensation in your throat covering up the numb empty feeling of being alone. Maybe you were surrounded by your brother and other people who loved and celebrated you, but does it mean anything if you can’t feel it?

~

Waking up in Jamie’s flat was one thing, not remembering how you got there was another. That was new to you. At least you remembered Jamie’s part of the deal: taking you to see hot men kick a ball around. Noticing his glasses and squinty face, you laugh before offering to buy coffee before heading to the stadium. Walking into the locker room, the first thing you notice the dragging feet and slow movements of what Jamie said was “the best fuckin team in the league”.

“Jesus fuck, what did you guys do last night?”

“Us?! How are you even alive right now?” Isaac whisper-yelled.

“Get with the times, gramps.”

Deciding to give them their privacy, you stroll into the coaches office and spin around in the rolling chair. You push yourself out once you hear the coaches enter the room.

“Eh, Coach, we have a guest today.”

“And who might that be Jamie?”

“That thing over there.”

“Rude.” Taking a sip of your coffee, you slowly wheel yourself towards Jamie. His back is turned to you, listening to his coaches as much as his hungover mind would let him. Kicking the back of his knee seemed like a great idea at the time, seeing him fall any time is hilarious. Until the coffee you bought for him ended up on your clothes. The room fell silent, a few gasps were let out. Standing up, you wordlessly handed your belongings to the player closest to you who took it without hesitation. Uttering a “Run”, you take off after Jamie. His panicked explanations echo down the hallway as he leads you out to the pitch. Running out of breath, you drop onto the grass. Cursing Jamie, you starfish onto the grass. A set of footsteps coming closer causes you to open your eyes.

“Are you alright?”

Will looks down at you with concern, but you wave him off. You hear the chatter of the whole team coming out onto the pitch. Will holds a hand for you and pulls you up. Jamie, now halfway down the pitch, watches you while walking in your direction.

“Will, why don’t we find this lovely lady some clean clothes.” Will gestures for you to follow him and before you do, you flip Jamie off. With both fingers like a mature adult would. The silence that surrounded you and Will was suffocating. You vaguely remember meeting him last night, but that only played a tiny part of the big night you had. The both of you start to speak at the same time, awkwardly laughing.

“Sorry.” “Sorry.”

“So, you run fast. Do you play too?

“Pff, not anymore.”

“Why not?”

You still at the question before shrugging it off. Deciding not to push it, Will holds the door to the boot room open for you. Freshly washed towels and clothes are stacked in piles, the scent of lavender almost covering the smell of feet. Will smiles at the way your nose wrinkles at the smell. He hands you a pair of sweats and a practice jersey.

“I could wash those for you…if you’d like?” He gestures towards your coffee stained clothes.

“Would you? You’re the best thanks Will.”

Leaving to change in a more private setting, you leave Will standing proud of himself. You, on the other hand, feel a strange happy, giddy feeling. And as much as it makes you feel like you’re floating on air, you try to push it back down. It’s not worth getting into again.

~

Jamie’s end of the deal was letting you come and watch hot guys play soccer. So why was sitting on the grass and talking to Will so much better? You had helped him finish setting up the water table and listened to him talk about how he accidentally hears everything in the boot room. The speed he speaks at makes you laugh as he lets it all out. In his words, “I’m sworn to secrecy, and it physically hurts not to tell.” And then he tells you about his breakup and how he somehow mentioned getting drinks to Roy and Jamie after he witnessed their Keeley conversation. You feel for him, because he really seems like a sweet guy.

“Who would say no to fishbowls? That’s just a crime. God I wish my club had fishbowls. Pretty, but dangerous.”

Will turns to you ecstatically. You notice the absolute glee on his face.

“If you’re going to ask me what I think you’re going to ask me, then fuck yeah I’m in.”

“Really?!”

“Obviously. It’s fishbowls.”

Roy’s shout of whistle signals the end of training. The two of you stand, deciding to start your fishbowl adventure later tonight. Solidifying your plans: time, place, Will getting your num-

“Oi! What are you two on about?”

The whole team had unanimously decided to watch the two of you interact and were intrigued by your plans. Especially Jamie. You tried to steer him away from the topic of the conversation, but it was too late. Half the team wanted to tag along to whatever bars you and Will were going to, even after the bender they went on last night. You rolled your eyes at Jamie’s insistence of the whole team going.

Finally back into your own clothes, you waited outside of the locker room as the boys changed. Only, they weren’t changing. Colin figured out that you were a solo artist as well and had pulled up a music video you had uploaded two weeks ago. Expecting an upbeat song like the ones your band had played the night before, they were surprised to hear piano notes. At the sound of your voice, Jamie looked towards where everyone gathered around Colin’s phone. The one thing they collectively noticed was how sad and angry you sounded.

—

Argument you held over my head

Brought up the girls you could have instead

Said I was too young, I was too soft

Can't take a joke, can't get you off

Oh, why do I do this?

—

The video ended with you looking up from the piano with a tear running down your face. There were a few sniffles before Dani spoke up.

“I hope to never experience a heartbreak like that in my life.”

A chorus of ‘Amens’ followed. The boys headed back to their own lockers. Jamie abandons his clothes in favor of his phone. Searching up your name and the name of the song, a multitude of news articles detailing your most recent breakup popped up.

Hartt & Danes Split After Cheating Rumors

Age-gap, Lies & Fights: Inside Look at Hartt-Danes Relationship

Lead singer of Heartbreakers Band New Solo Act Tops Charts

Pictures of you popped up holding hands with some older guy, but what caught Jamie’s attention were pictures of you crying, seemingly arguing with the guy. Jamie was confused. How hadn’t he heard about this before? Why did you change your name? The thought of asking you kind of scared him. If you hadn’t told him, it was either because it wasn’t important or you were trying to hide something. And every time you didn’t tell him something, you were hiding it. Quickly changing, he pops out of the locker room to see you leaning against the wall. Glancing up at the noise, you see Jamie with a weird pained look on his face.

“Fucking finally. I have places to be dickhead.”

You started to walk away but Jamie’s question makes you freeze.

“Who’s Jack Danes?”

Closing your eyes, you let a shaky breath out. You turn to face your brother.

“No one important, now can we go. I, we have to meet Will at 6:30.”

“Don’t do that. Don’t deflect the question.”

“Just some guy Jamie, it doesn’t matter.”

“Doesn’t matter?! Then how come I had to find out through the internet? Interviews from this guy I don’t even know”

Meeting his eyes, a newfound rage fills you. “And you believed him?!”

Your shouting has the door to the locker room opening, heads peeking out. When the shouting turns to blame and name-calling, Ted is quick to diffuse the situation. Separating the two of you, Beard drags Jamie to the coach’s office while Roy leads you toward an empty hallway. However, you don’t stop there. You stomp out of the tunnel leading out the pitch and throw your stuff onto the ground. Roy’s calls fall on deaf ears.

Seeing an abandoned basket of soccer balls, you drag it towards a goal. You knock it over and start kicking them one by one at the net. Roy sighs, before following you. As the last ball sails into the net, you let out a strangled yell before dropping yourself onto the grass. You blankly stare at the other side of the field, Roy coming to a stop next to you.

“You’re still here.” It came out more like a statement rather than a question. And for some, that worried him.

“Can’t exactly have you destroying our field can we? Nearly took out the fucking goal hitting the crossbar.”

You snort at the exaggeration. Roy, although begrudgingly, sat down next to you.

“He’s just worried about you.”

“Well he doesn’t need-”

“It’s the only way that prick knows how!” Pause. “Sorry. Look, it’s not easy finding out your sister was with some random guy and it wasn’t as perfect as it was made out to be. It’s absolute shit.”

You turn your head to Roy, seeing his downcast expression. You both sit in silence. The sunny sky a complete opposite of the vibe invading the clubhouse. With a sigh, you promise to talk to Jamie. Roy nods at you before carefully getting up, extending a hand to help you.

~

You lied. You Ubered back to your flat to get dressed. Will had agreed to meet you a bit earlier to pregame meeting the team. Your goal was to have a fishbowl in every color. And to get absolutely fucked up. You and Will had finished a red colored fishbowl and were heading over to the next pub. The two of you laughed as you approached the building. Noticing your brother among the group of people outside, your mood dropped, but Will’s excitement about an orange fishbowl had you smiling again.

Upon hearing your laugh, Jamie looks up and finds you. He smiles at how happy you look and moves to go to you. You see his efforts and pull Will into the pub, exclaiming how the fishbowls wait for no one. That was one of many attempts to get your attention. You dodged him every single time, and the more you drank the more annoying you found it. After finishing fishbowl yellow, you were stumbling around giggling. How on earth you and Will consumed three fishbowls, nobody knew. It was just funny to see the two of you dance around singing to whatever was being played over the speakers.

Deciding to take a break, Will left you at the booth with Jan Maas to get a couple of waters. The Dutch player had a different idea as he challenged you to a drinking game, each shot stronger than the last. And boy did you need a win after today. The game was cut short as you lost after the second shot, the sour look on your face the cause of it. From across the room, Jamie saw his chance. Sliding out the booth you’re met face to face with the last person you want to speak with.

“I don’t want to talk to you right now.”

“Please-“

“No Jaime.”

You don’t know if it was the burning feeling of vomit or the raw crying feeling in your throat, but it had you staggering out the door. The feeling dissipated as the fresh air filled your lungs. Hearing Jamie behind you, you try to guide yourself down the street. He comes up from behind grabbing your arm.

“Can you stop running? I’m trying to have a civilized conversation with you.”

“And I’m being civilized by not yelling in the middle of the street.”

“Please (Y/N), I’m just trying to understand.”

“Well you don’t understand Jamie! I was cheated on, I was yelled at, and it’s all over the internet! Every time someone searches up my name it’s never my band or my music, it’s my fucking ex talking on and on and on. How could you understand that?”

Jamie swallows the nasty feeling and blinks his tears away. He succeeded in getting the truth but there was no victory in it.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you’re Richmond’s prized possession, I couldn’t distract you. Besides, I'm dealing with it by myself so don’t worry about it.”

“You’re supposed to distract me! That’s your job! You’re supposed to bother me until I help you! I’m here to stop you from doing stupid things. I’m not…I’m not dad, okay? I’m here. We’re striker and winger remember?”

That was your breaking point. For almost your entire life, all you wanted was for your dad to be proud of you, to say he loved you. All you got were pinches on the arm or whispered scoldings. If there was ever any praise from him, it was only when you won games in your youth soccer league.

“You prick, I have $40 foundation on. Don’t make me cry.”

The air feels a little lighter. Of course, you didn’t tell Jamie the nitty gritty details , but he didn’t push for more. The both of you could live with that for now.

~

Despite only being invited to the clubhouse as a bribe, you found yourself coming back time and time again. Most of the time it was Jamie asking you to come to “watch his skills”. You knew it was so he could watch over you, but you didnt say anything. Because everytime you came in was time you could spend with Will. Like now, Will was supposed to be cleaning boots, but the two of you sat on the bench gossiping about the latest bullshit his ex pulled.

“And then she tagged me, then said it was some sort of accident.”

“Ha! Fat chance.”

“I don't know what to do. Everyone thinks I’m some sort of loser.”

You were not going to stand for this. With your past relationship and Will’s adorable sad face, you were determined to get this girl back.

“Give me your phone.”

Without question he all but handed it to you. Pulling out yours you quickly sent him the pictures from the now deemed Fishbowl Night. Creating a little collage to post to Will’s Insta, you took your time in highlighting the ones that showed how absolutely wrecked and happy you were. With the final touches done, you handed his phone back for approval. He glanced at the picture before looking at you. Post successfully uploaded. Not even a minute passed by before a few of her friends accounts, as Will pointed out earlier, were liking and commenting sweet but backhanded compliments. As more popped up as you refreshed, Will and you took great joy in reading them. Then the motherload. She commented. Hope she doesn’t break your hartt xx.

You gasped, covering your mouth before laughing. The two of you leaned on each other for support as your laughs turned into wheezes. Letting out a final exhale, you catch each other’s eyes.

And for some reason, time froze. And then somehow you were leaning closer. And then, his hand was on your cheek. And oh my god his lips were on yours. The moment could last forever, until it was interrupted by the wild pack of animals that was AFC Richmond. You threw yourself from him, the both of you sending yourselves to opposite ends of the room, occupying yourself with meaningless tasks. Some of the boys pop in to get a clean pair of boots, thanking Will for his hard work and saying hi to you. Jamie, however, notices a weird shift in energy. His gaze bounces between you and Will as he follows his lads out. You scratch your head and avoid his pointed stare. The door closes once more and Will almost jumps to you, apologizing. You stop him, placing your arms around his neck, effectively shutting him up with a kiss.

That was only the start of it. Everyday you weren't working on new music or performing with your band, you were in the boot room with Will. Those secret moments you and him shared were something you grew to crave. Not just the heated kisses you shared, but the moments you two layed on the floor talking about god knows what. Keeping whatever this was to yourself made it feel more real. You didn’t have to face those annoying questions the paps threw in your face, no pictures in the tabloids, and you didn’t have to label it. It was yours.

Sitting atop the washing machine, you were mumbling to yourself, putting words together for a song. Will, who was folding clean towels, smiled at your reactions to the discoveries you made in your head. He stopped the chore and walked over to you. His hands on your hips tore you out of your state of thinking. He thumbed the hem of your tank top, his fingertips on your skin sending shivers up your spine. The feeling lit a fire inside you. Pulling him in, you smashed your lips against his. Will slowly slid his hands up underneath your shirt. Leaning in closer to his touch, he trailed kisses down towards your neck. Caught up in the moment, you failed to hear the door opening.

“Oh my god!”

Keeley dropped the folder she was holding and quickly covered her eyes. Repeatedly apologizing, she kneeled and blindly searched for the folder. Upon grabbing it, she walked backward out the door and shut it. With one last sorry, her heels clicked down the hallway. Fuck. Jumping down, you paced back and forth whispering expletives. This was not good. Not at all. Keeley could tell anyone, and then it would get to your brother. And that was not a situation you wanted to be in.

“I need to go.”

Grabbing your bag, you zoomed out the door leaving Will behind with a concerned yet hurt look on his face.

Your heart was pounding, how could you be so stupid? Feeling a panic attack coming along, you breathed in through your nose and out your mouth. Your eyes started to burn with hot tears. Trying to get rid of the anxious feeling, you occupy yourself by cracking your fingers.

“What’s shakin bacon?”

Letting out a shriek, you find Ted standing across from you. He apologizes but notices your shaky hands.

“You alright?”

“Hm? Oh, I’m fine. Nothing to worry about. Just peachy”

“Do you need me to call Jaime?”

“No! No, I’m okay.”

“Call me for what?”

Speak of the devil and he appears in a hoodie and a headband. Ted excuses himself, leaving the two of you in the gall. Jamie notices the state you’re in and immediately goes full big-brother mode.

“Who do I have to kill?”

“No one Jamie, jeez! Get a grip.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing! Can we go home now?”

He was about to question you further when he saw the distressed look on your face pleading with him. Nodding his head, he handed you his keys.

~

It was quieter now. Everybody noticed. There weren't mymore muffled giggles coming from the boot room, no you yelling at Jamie on the pitch, and certainly no you joining them at clubs. If they team thought that was weird, a depressed Will moping around the locker room did it. He didn’t participate in the gossip anymore, only sadly handing out towels and water bottles. And thus began the team’s detective era.

Huddling on the field, they watched Will woefully juggle, not even bothering to pick the bottles up. Eventually giving up, he sat on the grass with his head in his hands.

“This is just sad.”

Agreeing with Colin’s statement, the boys started to discuss what they could do to lift the boy’s spirits. Although, there were many disagreements as to what was the best thing to do.

“Have any of you idiots thought about what started this shit?”

Multiple “oh’s” and “no’s” rang out over Roy’s “Unfucking believable”. None of them had a reasonable answer, except Jamie.

“I’ve got an idea.”

And it was arguably understandable why everyone thought it wasn't the greatest idea. It was, essentially, a get together in Jamie’s backyard. But Jamie’s own detective brain was at work. You hadn’t left his flat in a week, surviving off takeout and sunshine through the windows. He had noticed both you and Will had gotten in your depressive moods after that one day. Every time he tried to convince to come to the clubhouse saying Will was there, you immediately said no and left the room. Even looking back to the time he walked into the boot room, something was happening between the two of you. If he couldn’t get you out of the house, maybe he can bring Will to you.

Jaime had told you about his kick-back and he insisted you make an appearance. You, however, elected to stay in the guest room in comfy pajamas with your keyboard. Sitting on the bed, you pressed keyboard keys singing softly.

My undying love, now, I hold it like a grudge

And I hear your voice every time that I think I'm not enough

The sound of a door slamming makes you flinch. Shaking it off, you trace the freshly written lyrics in your notebook before playing again.

Yeah, I'm so tough when I'm alone, and I make you feel so guilty

And I fantasize about a time you're a little fuckin' sorry

Footsteps in the hall walk closer to the room.

And I try to be tough, but I wanna scream

How could anybody do the things you did so easily?

The door opening stopped you completely. Will stands awkwardly at the door.

“S-sorry, I was looking for the bathroom.”

“It’s down the hall.”

Neither of you moved, you just stared at each other.

“Did you need me to show you?” Moving the keyboard to the floor, you stand.

“I’m sorry.”

Will stepped away from the door frame, moving closer to you. He started to apologize, his voice growing in volume. You scrambled to get up, but once you did, you shut the door and leaned against it.

“Shh! What exactly are you sorry for?”

“For making you go away.”

Oh. You did do that.

“Will, it’s not your fault.”

“It’s not?”

God damn his puppy dog eyes. Placing your hands on his shoulders, you take a breath.

“Will, I’m not, I’m not good for you okay?”

“Don’t say that.”

“Will-“

“No! Everything the tabloids say about you is complete bullshit. Anyone can see that. I see it. If anyone took the time to get to know you, they would see someone smart and funny. Someone who is kind and would do anything for the people she cares about.”

“I’m not the best person to love Will! I spend too much time at the club, I write sad songs about guys I used to date, I just spent a whole week inside my brother's flat because I was afraid to go outside and see if there were any tabloids about us in the boot room! How is that any good?”

“I wouldn’t have held it against you, you know. I’ve listened to the songs, I’ve listened to explanations of these songs! I wanted to know you for you, the good and the “bad”. Even when it meant listening to that dickhead talk nonsense about you.”

Slipping your hands into the front pockets of your shorts, you lean back against the door. There was no other excuse you could give. You weren’t going to admit you were scared to start something new, with someone so kind and sweet and cute and STOP.

“Will-“

“I know.”

“You know?”

“Is this not you letting me down?”

“This is me asking you not to break my heart.”

You smiled sheepishly at him as a grin of his own made its way into his face.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Please.”

At your okay, Will closed the gap between you, pushing you against the door frame. You missed this. You missed the way his hands touched you. You missed how soft his hair was as you threaded your fingers through it. The way his lips felt on yours. Will boldly grabs the bottom of your shirt, gently asking you to take it off. The moment the shirt is thrown onto the floor, you’re pushed against the door once more, the wood shaking. Will’s hands slid further down, grabbing at your thighs signaling you to jump. Landing on the bed with a soft thump, Will takes his shirt off. Returning to the heated kiss, it wasn’t long before his hands were at your shorts. With the button undone, his fingers dipped below the band of your panties.

“(Y/N)!”

The two of you scrambled to put your shirts back on, you struggling more with the button on your shorts. The door opened as you lost your balance. Jamie witnessed you hit the ground while simultaneously noticing Will.

“The fuck are you two doing?”

“What are you doing?”

“I asked you first.”

“I asked you second.”

Jamie glances between you and Will, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. Leaving the two of you in the room, he called out that the pizza was here. Letting out a breath, you stand up. Will smiles at you before his eyes widen. Confused, you follow his eye-line down and notice the shirt you’re wearing. It was Will’s. The one he walked into the flat with. The one everyone saw him in. The one Jamie just saw you wearing instead of your own, because that one was on Will. Curse oversized shirts.

“Do you think he noticed?”

“Knowing him, probably not.”

~

And if he did notice, he hadn’t said anything. Well, more like he hadn’t had the time to question you with his extra practice for the upcoming game. Jamie had invited you to watch the game but hadn’t seen you since he got to the stadium. Expecting to see you in the owner’s box, he squinted, trying his best to spot you. To no avail, he couldn't see shit but was surprised to hear a familiar laugh. Turning in the direction of the sound, he saw you in a Richmond jacket laughing it up with Will. Catching Jamie’s eyes, you wave and cross your fingers, your good luck symbol. He returns the gesture before catching up with his teammates.

Jamie was in shock, his kick to get the ball away from a defender somehow ended up getting the ball into the goal. The 0-0 game was now in favor of Richmond. His teammates surrounded him as he stood there, gob-smacked. Back in the locker room, chants rang out. You and Will watched them jump around like children. Jamie was stepping towards you, not yet noticing Will’s arm slung around your shoulder. Will was about to let his arm drop when you reassured him with your arm around his waist. When Jamie approached you, a spark of mischief sparkled in his eyes.

“What’s going on here?”

“Jamie, Will and I-”

“Are together? Please say you are.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I bet my plan would work. And seeing you guys in each other’s shirt, gross by the way, in me own home, isn’t enough proof.”

Your cheeks burned red as well as Will’s.

“You noticed that?”

“I’m not that stupid.”

You, along with a few of the boys let out sounds of disagreement. Jamie started arguing about his smarts but was soon overtaken with the chants of “Kiss, kiss”. Shrinking into Will’s side, you feel him turn to you. He smiles shyly at you. The little chant fades away, all you can see is each other. As soon as your lips touch, the boys yell out in joy. Jamie rolled his eyes in annoyance, but anyone could see that he didn’t mean it. Leaning your head onto Will’s shoulder, you take it all in.

You could feel it, this was the one.

~

‘The Grudge’ turns fans on Danes

Hartt is Tartt?! Hidden Dynamic Duo

(Y/N) Tartt: Who I Am

You never could have imagined this is how your life would come up to. Being on the front page cover of a magazine with Jamie, playing small games of football, exclaiming your love for someone in public and it actually being reciprocated. It didn’t seem real.

Will kissed the side of your head as he sat next to you in the booth, sliding a drink over to you. Thanking him, you go back to watching your brother and his teammates try and fail to beat the karaoke high score.

But it was real. And you had it.

—————————

@ok-anon was excited, so hopefully this makes its way to you

[owlseeyoulaterpal]

Like Real People Do, Chapter 13

Gale Dekarios x Named! Tav

Chapter Synopsis: As Seraphina starts on the path towards peace with how things ended with Astarion, Gale requests her company for a private conversation.

18+ | MDNI

Chapter One. Chapter Two. Chapter Three. Chapter Four. Chapter Four and a Half. Chapter Five. Chapter Six. Chapter Seven. Chapter Eight. Chapter Nine. Chapter Nine and a Half. Chapter Ten. Chapter Eleven. Chapter Twelve.

Read on ao3.

Word Count: 4.3k

Notes: I meditated on this chapter for way too long trying to perfect it. But here it is! I'm getting a clearer idea for the path of this fic and think it will conclude with Chapter 16 (possibly) so that I can move on to getting out some of the one shots and shorter pieces I have brewing in my mind.

Learn more about my Tav, Seraphina.

Chapter Thirteen: Put Your Sweet Lips On My Lips

Seraphina wasn’t sure how much time passed as she and Astarion talked, but eventually the chatter around the fire outside had died down, leaving just the sounds of their conversation to fill the silence at camp. He helped her finish her bottle of wine as they crafted enough potions and elixirs to fill an entire backpack. She was almost sad to see the vampire rise to leave.

“Sweet dreams, my friend,” Astarion smiled, and he exited the tent. Almost as soon as he was gone, she heard his voice again.

“What in the nine hells?” the vampire exclaimed.

“Astarion?” Seraphina called out, panicked, as she dipped her head through the flaps. She jumped as she looked up. Before her and Astarion stood…Gale, but not quite Gale. A magical projection of the wizard smiled at her, an aura of purple light surrounding the image.

“Hello! I am here on behalf of Gale of Waterdeep. He has a message that is designated exclusively for the ears of Seraphina Hellwhisper,” the projection said. Seraphina held back a laugh at the warped imitation of Gale’s voice.

“He really must stop letting these things wander around without warning any of us,” Astarion grumbled. “Well, enjoy your night, darling.” He turned and headed towards his tent.

“Goodnight, Astarion,” she said as she fully came out of her own tent and got to her feet. She turned to the projection. “My ears alone are present,” she said.

“Gale of Waterdeep wishes to extend you an invitation for a private conversation in a more suitable locale,” the projection replied with an air of playfulness.

Seraphina laughed.

“Alright then. Show me the way to this ‘more suitable locale,’” she smirked.

“Gladly! Simply follow yonder path and soon you will find him,” the projection said, gesturing into the woods surrounding their camp. As the image’s hand moved, a line of small, floating purple lights appeared, disappearing into the trees. She smiled and began to follow the path, the lights vanishing as she passed them. She tried to ignore the fact that she could feel Astarion’s gaze on her back as she walked away.

It would take time for things to feel normal between them. Just as it would take time for the feelings she had for Astarion to fully dissipate. Those thoughts were for later. She  was far too excited for whatever the wizard had planned.

Her body hummed in anticipation as the trees became less dense, the path leading to a clearing. She gasped as she took in how well-lit the clearing was, almost as if she wasn’t in the shadow-cursed lands at all. Seraphina looked up and she grinned at the aurora borealis hanging the sky, streaks of indigo, emerald, yellow, and blue replacing the all-consuming darkness that she had become used to in the last few tendays.

She looked across the clearing and there was Gale, sitting on a purple blanket with fireflies dancing around him. She watched in awe as more colors and stars appeared as his fingers carefully pulled at the Weave to construct the illusion above them. She walked over to him, and Gale’s head turned. He smiled gently at her as she sat next to him, close enough for their arms to touch. He was beautiful under this light, the purple and gold hues of the sky dancing in his deep brown eyes.

“You never cease to amaze me,” she said.

“I aim to please,” Gale smirked. He looked up and she did the same. “I do love this time of night. There’s an almost reverent silence that accompanies the peak of darkness, when you’d almost believe the dawn will never break,” the wizard mused, his voice breathy. “The cradle of eternity. The timelessness of lovers.”

Seraphina looked back at Gale, who was still gazing at the brilliant ribbons of light. She could see that the lines of his face seemed deeper, the bags under his eyes more prominent.

“You seem…more philosophical than usual. Did you need to get away from the curse for a while?”

“Oh, the curse is still present. It is simply concealed. Not a trick I can repeat often, but tonight is different.” Gale looked at Seraphina and the emotion in his gaze made her stomach flip.

As he opened his mouth to speak, dread washed over her as she felt what was coming next.

“This could very well be my last night alive. I wanted it to be under a canopy of beauty and wonder…and with company to match,” Gale said gently, smiling at her, as if he was attempting to banish the sadness that was beginning to grip her heart.

“I doubt that I can compare to a sight like this but thank you for inviting me here, Gale,” she replied.

For a few moments, they said nothing and simply gazed at the stars together. Anxiety crept up Seraphina’s spine like spiders. What were the right words to say to a man who was so resolute? She looked over at him and her heart skipped a beat.

“Is dying at Mystra’s command truly what you want, Gale?” Seraphina whispered.

“There are few things that are certain in this world, but death is one of them. Unlike death, Mystra’s forgiveness is not assured. I know Tymora may not be one to lean into punishments as swiftly as other gods, but surely you understand that. If you knew the end was near, would you not want to ensure it had meaning? When it means saving your soul from wandering the Fugue Plane for eons and you are redeemed in the eyes of the one you serve?”

“Gale…” Seraphina murmured. She gulped and clenched her fists. She was a hypocrite, and she knew it.

“I can understand. That is the consequence if I reject Tymora’s trial. But…but Tymora has never demanded that I die to serve her.”

“But you have been prepared to die for her. And you have,” Gale replied. “And what I witnessed…”

He paused and gulped, shutting his eyes. Suddenly, she felt the walls of Gale’s mind collapse as their tadpoles connected. She bit her tongue as she saw her own body burning through Gale’s eyes as they fought against the githyanki. Fear – the fear that Gale felt in that moment – coursed through her. Then, the connection snapped.

He looked up and met her eyes.

“Your faith has persisted. Your dedication shows in your fearlessness as we fight for our lives every day. Gods, not even just in the midst of battle. You dance between life and death any time you cast magic to heal one of us,” Gale continued. “I’m not like you. I’m terrified. Even with that fear, there is no point in running from the inevitable. Better to meet it, on my own terms.”

“Nothing is inevitable. Not when we face it together, Gale,” Seraphina said, reaching out and grabbing his hand. “You don’t have to die…not for a goddess who has treated you so horribly and now demands your death.”

Gale squeezed her hand. His thumb swept down across her fingers, over her long, curved claws.

“One moment with you could sate me for a lifetime and prise the fear from my heart. I’m so very glad you came to share this with me.”

“I want nothing more than to be by your side, Gale.”

The wizard said nothing, surprisingly speechless for once. Seraphina watched as his eyes darted around them, as if he was grasping for words to say. But she spoke first.

“Gale, there’s something you should know,” the tiefling said slowly. “When I said that Vadan left me without saying anything, that wasn’t…the whole truth. Vadan and I had been arguing for some time before the wedding. He…” she coughed and cleared her throat. 

“Take your time. I’m here,” Gale encouraged.

“My wild magic surges had hurt him before – nearly killed him once – and he didn’t want us to start our life together with such a huge danger lurking over us. He didn’t want to die and…he didn’t want me to die either. Though, in truth, I don’t think his ego would’ve allowed for a wife that surpassed him in any way,” she continued.

“He begged me to end my trial every day leading up to our wedding. The morning of our wedding, he asked me again. I said no. When he left the house that morning, I…I thought he would still come to the temple like a fool. He left the city with his family and, a tenday later, I received a letter from him apologizing for everything and swearing that, when and if I ceased being a wild mage, he would return to me for us to build the life we planned.”

“Seraphina…”

“That’s why I snapped at you when you suggested that I stop the trial. I was…taken back to those conversations and I took out my anger on you. That wasn’t right. I should’ve given you a chance to speak,” Seraphina said.

“I forgive you. I wouldn’t expect many people to have experience with being a Chosen. It is a deeply aspirational position. It’s the highest form of worship, at least for the most ambitious among the devout,” Gale replied.

“But is it worth it when the one you worship requests something monstrous of you? I’ve died twice now because of a wild magic surge. I’ve almost killed you. I don’t want to risk the lives of the people I love or my own,” Seraphina’s voice cracked, but she continued, strengthened by Gale’s touch and his intense, adoring gaze.

“I won’t do it, not for my family’s pride or for Tymora. I want to live,” she whispered. “I…I wish that you felt the same way. That you saw the value in your life that exists separate from Mystra, magic, or any of this chaos.”

“I want to live, Seraphina. If there is a way – any way – to save all that’s grown dear to me, I want to seize it,” Gale declared with conviction. “I know that…this,” his other hand gestured towards the sky. 

“This is all unreal, but I created it for you. You have given me so much to care about. You barged into my life and have destroyed almost everything I thought to be true. Seraphina, surely you must know that you’re…that you’re very special to me,” Gale murmured, his wide eyes vulnerable as his voice wavered.

Looking into his eyes, she felt that anything was possible with him by her side. She needed him to feel the same way, to possess the same utter confidence in defiance of all the odds before them that he could live. That they could both live on their own terms and not the ones the gods decided for them.

“I’m in love with you,” Gale whispered.

Gods.

“I’m in love with you too,” Seraphina murmured. Her hands went to his jaw, his beard tickling her palms. Gale leaned into her touch, briefly closing his eyes, before opening them again. His soft gaze hardened with resolve and determination. And he leaned in closer. When their lips touched, it was tender. Chaste. Loving. A bit clumsy and awkward. 

It was nothing like any of the kisses Seraphina had been fantasizing about for weeks, but it was real. And it was perfect.

For a moment, nothing else mattered. She was with him, and they could finally be freed of the restraints that had been present since they met. They could be here in this moment, together, under the stars and pretend that there was no cult, there were no tadpoles, and there was no imminent threat of death for either of them.

Gale sighed as his hands grabbed her waist, squeezing and pulling her closer. He pulled away, but not too far, settling his forehead against Seraphina’s. They opened their eyes and they both smiled before giggling.

“You’re out of practice,” she teased, one hand wandering into his hair, her fingers carding through his brown and gray locks.

“A fair assessment,” Gale chuckled. “I wish we had more time to practice together.”

Seraphina opened her mouth to speak.

“I must ask you something. It is a question that I have never felt that I was allowed to ask on account of our dire circumstances. But I want to know that your whole heart is here with me and if it’s not –”

“It is. I promise you that.”

He smiled at that, but then concern came to his face again.

“And what of Astarion? You two are…or were close. If that’s still true, I won’t ask you to be here. I fear that you are the only thing keeping his darkest urges at bay and I won’t destroy that or ask you to do so for this one night with me.”

She sighed.

“Astarion…he broke my heart. Whatever there was between us, it’s gone and I’m not quite sure if it was ever real. All that’s left now is friendship. I can’t be his keeper,” she said. “But this? Us? This is real. My heart is yours, Gale.” She kissed him again, a low moan from Gale making her heart flutter, before she leaned back.

Gale smiled at her as he rose to his feet, reaching out and pulling Seraphina to stand with him.

“You’ve already indulged me by coming here and sharing your company with me, but there is so much more I want to share with you, to show you,” he said wistfully, one hand clutching hers as his other one caressed her cheek.

“Show me,” she replied breathlessly.

“How about the perfect night in Waterdeep?”

Suddenly, a flash of white surrounded the two casters as the world around them began to shift, the blinding white shifting into a gentle purple haze. Seraphina smiled, ever impressed by Gale’s mastery of illusory magic, as the fog began to dissipate, revealing a grand library before her very eyes. The scent of parchment, sea salt, and sandalwood flooded her senses as she took a step forward only to be met with the soft creaks of wooden floors instead of the crunch of grass. 

“The scene is this: you and I stand in the room that is the center of my universe,” Gale said, walking through the magnificent space. “The sculptures, the paintings, the walls enlivened with the spines of a thousand books.” 

Seraphina walked over to one of the bookshelves, letting her fingers glide across some of those spines. There were almost more books here than in the temple back home. She smiled as she felt Gale’s eyes on her, and she turned to meet his gaze. He held his hand out to her, and she took it, pleased at the warmth that instantly flowed from him to her.

Gale smiled as he gestured with his other hand to the oak doors on the opposite side of the room. “And as we look out beyond the arches that lead to the terrace, we see the weary sun take its daily dive into the sea.”

The doors suddenly opened, and the cleric gasped as the most stunning view she’d ever seen appeared before her – beyond the balcony was a gorgeous bay, illuminated by the orange and yellow rays of the setting sun. Ships filled the harbor, sailing into dock and departing out over the horizon. Gale squeezed her hand before releasing it, striding over to stand at the railing, and he looked so natural washed in the sun’s light. The golden-brown tan of his skin made sense to her now.

“Gale…this is incredible,” Seraphina gasped, her mouth agape and eyes wide.

“Yes,” he grinned. “The city that you have only ever ‘passed by,’ a mistake that you should remedy with haste.”

“I can’t let a view like this slip past again,” she replied. Seraphina went over to the bench and sat, admiring Gale’s gentle smile as he looked out over the balcony.

“Gale,” she called out and he immediately turned to her. She patted the empty seat next to her and he quickly came over and joined her.

“My favorite spot. Many times, evening turned to night and back to daybreak once more while I sat here, lost in words.”

“Up all night reading? I had no idea I was in the company of such a rebellious spirit.”

“Allow me to live dangerously while I still can.”

She glanced over the balcony and into the library again before looking at him again.

“This is truly your home, Gale?” 

“Yes,” he said smugly. In their time together, she had developed an appreciation for his ego. It was earned. Through it though, she could see the sadness and longing in his eyes as he looked over his balcony and the beautiful scenery of the harbor of Waterdeep.

“I know that you haven’t visited Waterdeep, but I hope you do someday. I only wish that fate had been forgiving enough to allow me to show it to you,” Gale frowned.

“You still could, Gale,” Seraphina said. 

“Let’s not dwell on what can’t be,” the wizard shook his head. “Tell me about your home.”

Seraphina hesitated. She decided to allow him to change the subject.

“My parents’ house was cramped, but it was full of love. My parents had their room and then there were two rooms for the kids to split. I didn’t have my own room until I was fourteen. It got annoying sometimes, but I spent most of my time at the temple anyway. And then I left when I was sixteen. I’ve been on the road since then,” she said. She pursed her lips and picked at a thread on her pants.

“I make my way back to the Gate to see my family there when I can, but those visits are few and far between. My old room is for my nieces and nephews now. I don’t…have a space like this,” Seraphina murmured sadly, gesturing towards Gale’s library and balcony.

Gale looked out towards the water again. His hand clutched Seraphina’s, their fingers intertwined. For a moment, there was just the peaceful sounds of the waves, the calls of the seagulls, and the gentle wind. What would it be like to call a place like this home? 

The thought was…strange. The idea of a home was strange. The idea that she could convince Gale not to sacrifice himself seemed preposterous. But what if she could? What if she could and they could survive this crisis and come back to this tower together? To leave behind the worries of the world each day and come back to this slice of paradise together?

They would have to be lucky. It was through luck alone that they hadn’t already turned into mind flayers. They could get lucky again. She believed it. She had to or otherwise she would turn to despair.

“You deserve a place of peace,” he finally whispered. “My tower is yours. For you to return to if you ever tire of the road.”

Seraphina’s eyebrows furrowed.

“What are you saying?”

“The dead have no use for towers,” Gale replied firmly. “If you want it, after I destroy the Absolute tomorrow and myself with it, let this be your home. I’ll use a sending stone before we depart to collect the Nightsong to ensure that Tara knows my wishes.”

Tears welled up in the tiefling’s eyes.

“I won’t go to Waterdeep without you. You’ll be there with me. Please, promise you’ll be with me.”

With a frown, Gale turned to look at her again.

“I cannot promise you that, love,” he murmured. He reached for a book on the nearby table and placed it down on the bench between them. “What I can promise you is an unforgettable night, here with me now.”

Seraphina let out a sob and Gale’s hands flew up to cradle her face.

“Seraphina,” he said gently. He kissed her deeply and Seraphina held back a whimper tasting her own tears. His thumbs stroked her cheeks, wiping away her tears as she leaned into him. Gale pulled away and caressed her face with the back of his hand.

“Let us have tonight. Please,” Gale pleaded.

She gazed into his brown eyes. The gorgeous eyes that she searched for when she needed peace, that she needed to see to verify the safety of the person they belonged to as they battled their enemies, that lit up with pride any time he made her laugh or when he successfully said a few words to her in infernal, that sparked a fire within her when she felt their gaze travel over her lips and hips. The eyes that looked at her now with longing, devotion, and pure affection.

She would give him anything he asked for when he looked at her like that.

“Alright,” she sniffled. 

Gale smiled gently and he put his hand on top of the book.

“This one is The Art of the Night. It describes in vivid detail the first thousand nights of a newlywed king and queen,” Gale murmured. “They turned everything they did into an art. The art of conversation. The art of taste. The art of the body. I say we take a page from their book.”

“I think you may be the only person I’ve met who has tried to seduce me with a book,” Seraphina laughed, drying what remained of her tears.

“Then forget the book. We can be blank slates on blank sheets,” Gale whispered, his voice husky and low. “Shedding our past loves and hurts so that we can be delightfully new together. How does that sound?” 

Seraphina made a show of looking around the balcony and then into the library.

“Mmm. Sounds like a good time, but I don’t see a bed for us,” she hummed. “Unless you’d prefer for us to stay right here…”

She leaned down to sink to her knees in front of him when Gale gently grabbed her wrist.

“The stars will be our bed,” he replied. Seraphina’s eyebrow quirked. “Trust me.”

“You’ve already sent us somewhere beautiful, Gale,” she murmured as he opened the book. “There’s no need to impress me further. Please, let me taste you.”

He began to flick through the book, opening it to a section that showed an outline of a hand on each page, surrounded by texts and diagrams.

“I want to bond with you the way that gods do, intertwining our spirits in visions of the Weave. Why confine ourselves to the pleasures of mortal flesh? It is but one stitch in a vast tapestry,” Gale explained. “Let me show you more. If I only get one night in your company like this, let me give you an incredible memory.”

“Then show me everything.”

“Follow my lead,” he smirked. 

He placed his hand on top of one of the pages and, as it began to glow the faintest blue, Seraphina followed suit on the opposite one. Right away she tasted it – sweet rosewater – and felt it – her eyes closing as her soul was gently pulled away, away, away. When she opened her eyes again, she was no longer inside her own body. She looked down at her new, nude form and Gale – in his own astral form – smiled at her as his hand took hers.

Waterdeep melted away, replaced by the beauty of the vast expanse of space within the Weave. In every direction, there were hundreds of stars and galaxies. Seraphina gasped as Gale’s hands began to stroke up and down her sides, every sensation intensified, as he touched her soul.

“Gale,” she moaned as he pulled her closer, his lips brushing against her cheek, sending shivers to her core and through her entire body, before kissing her. He groaned as her hands caressed his shoulders, passed over his neck, and wandered into his hair.

Seraphina pulled away, leaning down to press her lips to his chest, in the middle of the orb marking. His moan reverberated through her form, and she wanted to hear it again and again. 

Gale cradled her face, pulling her back up to him to kiss her again. As she melted into him, she could hear his voice in her mind.

“When you wake, it will be back at our camp, back in our small, dirty, bloody patch of existence. But stay with me now.”

She let out a whimper as more hands began to touch her and move through her – on her waist, her back, her breasts, over her tail.

“There are endless worlds out there. Countless ways to declare love. Infinite ways to express it.”

Fullness unlike anything she had ever felt forced another moan from her as their pelvises intersected.

“Too much for one night…but we shall try.”

Seraphina could feel her very being becoming completely undone only to be rewoven with strands of Gale’s essence braided throughout her. She could feel her soul bonding with his, playing, laughing, and loving in the joyous sea of stars that was their bed tonight. All she felt was ecstasy and Gale’s tender adoration as their astral hands touched each other, their new forms converging and intersecting as their pleasure overwhelmed them.

Loving Gale was like magic for Seraphina – it came naturally, it was easy, it was where she felt at home, it was in her bones, and she didn’t know how not to do it. What they had was sacred and she would protect it with her life. Her future was murky, and death lurked around the corner, but she knew that she wanted Gale in however much life she had left.

To do that, she knew what she had to do. But that was for later. For now, she stayed there among the stars with Gale, allowing waves of euphoria to wash over her again and again at her wizard’s gentle touch. There, among the stars, where they felt alive and real with each other.

[jumpingjelliefish]

Can you do a Toby X male reader where Toby goes maniac about reader because he talked to “unapproved people” Feel free to make it a nsfw or just a sfw I LOVE your Jeff tk one so much!

Of course, my dear! I'm happy you enjoyed my Jeff the Killer one-shot! Now I'm here to make one for you! :)

[Toby x M Reader] (SFW)

————-<3

"What the- What the f-fuck do you think you w-were doing?" Toby screams at you. He pulls you by your wrist to the car he just broke into. Your eyes go wide as you try to re-think your actions, what had you done to get him this aggravated?

He looks at you with the most enraged look he has ever given you. You are shoved into the back of the vehicle. He slams the door behind you and climbs into the driver's seat. "I can't believe you would do something like- something like that!" He starts the car and rips off the face mask he’s wearing, you can see his snarl.

He shoots you a glare through the rear-view mirror, "J-just- just wait till we get somewhere- somewhere more private." You whimper in the backseat of the car. Toby is swerving around cars, disobeying most traffic safety laws. He huffs and grumbles; his shoulders are tense.

Your surroundings become that of a forest, the car bouncing with every pothole in the dirt road. Toby screeches the car to a secluded spot. He huffs as he climbs out of the car. He opens the door closest to you and pushes you onto your back. He smirks as your eyes reflect your fear. He straddles your legs and pins your arms over your head with one of his hands.

"You really thought you could- you could get away with talking to those other people? A-am I not enough for you?" He shouts, his tics making his head twitch to the side. He grabs your shirt collar and gets closer to your face, "Answer me! You fucking b-bitch!"

You shake under his hands, "I'm sorry sir!" You look him in the eye and mutter more apologies. He looks around the forest, searching for witnesses. He scowls at you.

"I don't think you've learned- learned y-your lesson yet," he gives you a snarl of a smile. He tightens his grip on your shirt and glares into your eyes as he cocks his right arm back and sits up as much as he could.

He began one of his cruel punishments. He strikes your face, again and again, turning your face into a puffy, red mess. You hold back painful gasps and close your eyes.

"L-look at me!" He screams in your face. You open your eyes as much as they will let you in their beaten state.

His hair falls to frame his face, his entire body shaking with pure anger. He continues his abusive actions. He moves his hands to your throat, choking you. You claw at his hands and try to fight him off. He shows no remorse and contracts your airways further.

By the time you wake up you are in the cell you were first kept in when Toby couldn't trust you. Toby is nowhere to be seen, you try to rub your face but only discover that your hands have been chained to the wall above you. You gasp and sit up as best as you can. The rattling of the chains alerting Toby from upstairs.

Toby storms his way downstairs and slams the door open. He roars at you, “Will you be f-fucking quiet?” You anxiously whimper at his loud voice. He walks closer to you and stands above you.

You glimpse up at him, fear taking over your body. He chuckles and his shoulders twitch. Toby kneels in front of you and stares into your eyes. You close your eyes and turn your head away. He lets out a short tsk, “What do you think you-you’re doing? Come on pretty boy, I want to see your pret-pretty face.” You look at his face and run your eyes on all of the scars that have made themselves at home in his skin.

He lets out a slow and breathy laugh, “There we go, that’s more like it.” You flinch as he caresses all of the new bruises that he created on your face. “I kind of like the way your face is so colorful, I should punish you more often.” he lets out a sharp laugh and you flinch.

He stands once again and takes a step back. He grins wildly and begins to kick your abdomen. He laughs with each kick to your body. He can hear the satisfying crunch of your ribs, fracturing them.

You wheeze and gasp with each abrasion. You groan as he places his last kick, making it harder than all of the previous ones. He huffs and looks back at your face. “Don’t worry, y/n, you'll be pretty-prettier this way,” he laughs at your expression.

He smiles at you and walks back a few paces. He admires his handiwork. He then twitches and walks out of the room, back upstairs. He leaves you in the dim cell, you let your head flop in front of you. You can hear Toby’s footsteps echoing as he goes up the staircase.

A few hours have passed, and the circulation in your arms is very faint. You hear the door begin to unlock, you start to shake with fear. Once Toby has the door open you spot a plate of food. Toby hums as he makes his way toward you. He seems to have come down from his cloud of anger, you hope that it’s true. You don’t think your body can handle much more of his abuse.

He places the plate on the floor and grabs your face. You look up into his eyes, not being able to read his expression. He remains neutral and removes his hand from your face. “I made you food. I don-don’t think you deserve it, but I can’t have you dying on me,” he says matter of factly.

Your mouth begins to rapidly salivate. You pull at the chains and whine quietly at the soreness of your wrists. He chuckles and pulls the plate towards him teasingly slowly. You shift your eyes from the plate of food to him, then back to the food. You become increasingly suspicious of what it could contain. You watch as he grabs a small amount of food with his hand and brings it to your lips. You whimper and turn your head.

He pulls his hand back, “Are you not hun-not hungry?” He begins to stand and turns to walk away. Your mind races and you choose to call out to him.

“I’m hungry! Sir, please let me eat,” You sit up further and pull the chains with you. You can hear Toby let out a satisfied exhale and he turns back to you.

“That’s a g-good boy,” he praises. He slowly crouches down in front of you. He takes a piece of the food and brings it close to your mouth. You open your mouth and he places the food onto your tongue. He pulls his hand away and watches you swallow, then repeats the process.

Once there are only crumbs on the plate he reaches into one of his pockets. You flinch when he brings his hand out, only to see him holding a juicebox. He pokes the straw into the box and takes a mouthful of its content and places the box on the ground. He pinches your cheeks to part your lips. When you open your mouth to him he places his atop yours. He presses your tongue down forcefully with his, as he spreads the juice into your mouth.

You gag lightly from the pressure and he laughs against your lips. Once he makes sure that you’ve swallowed he pulls away, drool glossing your lips. Toby wipes his mouth and takes the barren plate. He leaves the juicebox on the floor. You watch as he leaves you alone with your thoughts once more. You look down at the juicebox and try reaching out for it, only to find he placed it mere inches from your grasp, taunting you until next time.

END

That was an assshole Toby fanfic, I hope all you readers enjoyed it! :)

-Jellie

[bookerdewittsstuff]

Domestic! Booker Dewitt HCs part 3!

Booker with a baby! no warnings this time.

A/N: I hate college

»»————-　★　————-««

after years of being together, Booker had finally found peace within himself. He no longer saw himself as some piece of shit gambler, private investigator, and veteran. He’s just…him now. And for once, he can stand to look at himself in the mirror every day. Don’t get me wrong, he was still a complete asshole sometimes, but he’s gotten better.

He never imagined himself having kids, he thought it would just be you and him until the end of time…or until you inevitably got tired of his bullshit and left him. But that day hadn’t come just yet.

So when he found out you were pregnant he was shocked to say the least. He literally went :0 and just stared at you for a good few minutes.

-“oh my god, please say something,” you begged, almost ready to slap that bewildered look off his face. He just stood there, his mouth agape as he looked down at the positive pregnancy test clutched in your hand. “Uh…congratulations?” He whispered, glancing up at you.

Of course it was never a planned pregnancy…maybe the two of you forgot to wear a condom a few times…but surprise! You’re welcoming a child into your loving home!

He didn’t care about the gender, but it was a girl and he was perfectly fine with that. The two of you decided on the name Anna (haha), and soon the baby was here!

He had no idea what he was doing. So when you asked him to change Anna’s diaper while you went to the bathroom, he was again bewildered.

-he blinked down at his baby, the baby blinked up at him as she pulled her tiny little foot into her mouth. “Stop that,” he grumbled, pulling off the soiled diaper and quickly discarding it. After wiping Anna clean, he grabbed the new diaper, opening it up and staring at it. “What the hell?” He scoffed, trying to figure out how he was supposed to put this damn thing on. Eventually, when he did put the diaper on, you appeared behind his shoulder, “it’s on backwards,” you said and he jumped slightly, not realizing you were there. “Oh Jesus Christ,” he groaned as Anna cooed up at him, her foot still in her mouth.

When it came to Anna waking up in the middle of the night, he usually let you do it because anna seemed to like you more than him. But one night, anna was fussing and crying and you were sound asleep next to him. He sighed and got up, heading into anna’s nursery and picking her up, holding her against his chest like he’s seen you do many times.

- “how can you be so loud, hm?” He whispered tiredly, sitting in the rocking chair in the corner and slowly rocking back and forth, anna pressed against his chest. “I’m not gonna sing those silly little nursery rhymes like your mama does…” he complained as if Anna understood him. Instead, he talked about his life before he met you, how miserable he was and then he met you, got married, and not too long after, he had his very own child. Anna was fast asleep by the time he was finished talking about his time in the war.

- this continued for a while. He let you sleep and instead took care of the baby himself. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the way anna looked up at him when he picked her up. How she now immediately stopped crying when he walked into the room. It warmed his heart to be loved by two people who were very special to him.

Eventually, he was a pro at changing diapers, feeding Anna, putting her to sleep, and giving her baths. Though he felt a bit offended when Anna’s first coherent word was “mama” and not “papa” or “dada”.

-“honey, you can’t be mad at that,” you said, patting his shoulder as he held Anna in his arms. He had an annoyed expression on his face as he looked down at the baby. “I’ll remember this when you’re older, little girl,” he said and you just grinned.

When anna became a toddler, he was a bit more on edge than usual. She became curious about things. Such as the cleaning supplies under the kitchen sink or what would happen if she ran full speed towards a corner of the coffee table. So, he had to toddler-proof literally the entire house.

- he was putting the finishing touches on the toddler-proofed coffee table when he heard some noises in the bathroom. He froze, remembering that you had left to go meet some friends and the last time he checked, anna was playing with some building blocks. But when he looked over to his side, anna wasn’t there. He quickly jumped up and ran towards the bathroom. The sight before him was anna holding a bottle of bleach, the cap clattering onto the floor just as he managed to grab the bottle from her. “If you don’t accidentally kill your lead with these damn cleaning supplies first, you’re gonna give me a goddamn heart attack,” he huffed, making a mental note to put a child lock on the bathroom cabinets as he carried anna out of the bathroom.

Despite the critical voice in his head telling him he’s a terrible man, he’s a good father. He found love in both you and his own child. He has two reasons to live now. And maybe once anna is a few years older he comes to you asking about another child….

[beautiful-songbird]

A Kiss Under the Moon

Pairing: Idol!Hobi x OC

Genre: fluff

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: none

Summary: Yuna plans a special early birthday celebration for Hobi, and perhaps she has more than one surprise in store for him.

Hobi was all grins the day Yuna took him to the nail salon.  It had been a while since he’d gotten his nails done, and when he’d mentioned it, she’d been quick to recommend going to the salon together.  She didn’t get her nails done often, but she’d gladly do it if it was with him.

“You pick the color for me,” Hobi requested as the two of them stared at the shelves of color.

She glanced over at him, not expecting the request. “Oh…uh.” Her eyes found the different colors again and ran over them repeatedly, unsure what to tell him. “Anything specific you want?”

“No.  You choose!  I trust your judgement.”

After careful consideration, she pulled a polish off the shelf that was a muted blue with a touch of green in it. “How’s this one?”

He grinned. “I love it!”

She smiled. “Good.  I tried.”

Her words went over his head as he walked away from her hurriedly, leaving her to choose her own nail color alone.  She didn’t mind much, though.  This entire thing had been an early birthday present for him, so as long as he was enjoying himself, she was happy.

“Hey!  What color did you get?” he asked when she sat down.

“Emerald,” she replied, holding it up for him to see. “We can sort of match for Valentine’s Day.”

He smiled. “It’s pretty!” he held up his left hand, which had already been painted.  He wiggled his fingers. “Look at this!  Isn’t it pretty?  You did a great job choosing this color.”

“I’m glad you like it,” she replied with a laugh.

“I’m not sure I would’ve chosen this color.  I usually do bright colors.”

“Oh, really?” she asked.

He nodded. “Why this color?”

She shrugged, trying to hide her smile. “It’s just pretty.  Besides…I wanted to match, and dark colors are more my style.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” he teased, motioning to her outfit that consisted of multiple different dark colors.

“Hey, you know what they say, opposites attract.”

He laughed. “Is that what they say?  Explain Yoongi and Rosa, then.”

She shrugged. “Doesn’t apply to everyone.  Some people need someone very similar.”

“Namjoon and Esme?”

She nodded.

“Jin and Jasmine?”

“Eh…I wouldn’t say they’re that similar.  More similar than we are, I suppose.”

“Tae and Zelda?”

“I’m pretty sure they’re the same person.”

He snorted. “Really?  I think they’re night and day.”

She hummed. “Well, Yoongi and Rosaelia best describe the idea of similar people attracting.  I feel like neither of them really talk about themselves at all, and they’re both workaholics.”

He nodded. “Definitely.” He paused for a few seconds. “What do you want to do when we’re done here?”

“We have dinner plans,” she informed him.

“Oh?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. “You went all out?”

“Hey, tonight is your birthday celebration.  Of course I went all out!”

“Celebrating my birthday on Valentine’s Day is an interesting idea.”

“How so?”

“Well…doesn’t it mean a lot of places have been booked full?”

She nodded. “It does.  Had someone at the company help me.”

“Ah.  Of course, that makes sense.  So…where is this secret place that we’re going?”

She smiled over at him. “It’s a secret, remember?”

He grumbled. “That’s no fun.  I don’t like secrets.”

“Well, you’re going to have to tonight.  I will not reveal my plans.”

He pouted. “Not any of them?”

“Nope.  I already told you everything I’m going to tell you.” She glanced over at him then to find him still pouting, and she smiled. “Don’t worry.  You’ll know everything by the end of the night.”

“Is that a promise?”

She shook her head. “Hobi, you act like tonight won’t be over tonight.”

“Well, how am I supposed to know?  Maybe it won’t be!”

“I’ll let you know what’s going on if tonight doesn’t end tonight, ok?”

◇◆◇◆◇

Hobi’s expectations for dinner were blown out of the water when they arrived at their table.  It was a private seating area inside one of the more expensive restaurants downtown.

“This…is not what I expected,” he laughed nervously as the two of them sat down. “I would’ve dressed up a bit more if I’d known we were coming here.”

She motioned to her outfit. “Are you kidding me?  Look at what I’m wearing!  If anything, you’re more dressed up than I am.”

“I guess,” he smiled. “I’m just used to putting on a show no matter where I go.”

“Well,” she scooted closer to him, lacing his fingers through her own. “It’s just the two of us tonight…and the waiter.”

He lowered his face towards hers. “Just us, eh?”

She smiled. “Yes.  What do you think of that?”

“I like that very much,” he muttered.

He ran his thumb along her jaw then, and their lips met.

The door clicked a moment later, and someone stepped in.

“Oh- I’m sorry.  Am I interrupting?”

The two of them pulled away from each other to glance up at the waiter.  Whatever moment they’d been having was now ruined, and this entire exchange had just become awkward.

“No, not at all,” Hobi responded, pulling away from Yuna.

Their alone time would just have to wait.

Dinner dragged on for quite a bit longer than Yuna had expected, the waiter being increasingly insistent on them trying just about everything on the menu.  It was great food, but Yuna was getting full and antsy.  Eventually, she grabbed Hobi’s hand and dragged him out onto the balcony.

The balcony, like the rest of the area they’d been eating in, was curtained off, leaving them alone with the stars.  The moon was a little over halfway to being full on this particular night, and Hobi couldn’t help but grin.

“You can see the sky a little better from up here,” he commented.

“You can.  I bet you we can see it even better in Jeju, though.”

He chuckled. “Are you suggesting that we should go there?”

She shrugged. “Maybe.”

He laughed, and then the two of them stood in silence for a few moments as they looked up at the sky.

Yuna patted the pocket of her pants, making sure she hadn’t dropped the thing she’d been so carefully protecting before she started talking.  Then she turned to look up at him.

“Hey, Hobi?”

He looked down at her with a smile. “Hm?”

She simply stared up at him for a few moments before smiling. “I love you.”

He grinned. “I love you too.  Why so suddenly, though?”

She stared up at him for a few moments. “I have something to ask you,” she blurted out suddenly.

“Oh?” he asked, surprised. “Ask away.”

She felt frozen, unable to move even as her entire body itched to.  She wanted to do this.  She knew he was hesitant, so she wanted him to know that she wanted it.

She turned fully towards him then, grasping his hands so he’d turn towards her too.  His eyebrows furrowed.

“What is it, Yuna?”

“Please don’t say no,” she whispered softly.

“What?” he asked.

She slowly dropped to her knee in front of him, digging that box out of her pocket.  A ring box.  His eyes widened as he realized what she was doing.

“I’m a bit short to do this,” she laughed, but she still popped the ring box open. “Hobi…I…I know I’ve been hesitant throughout our whole relationship.  I’ve been scared that I’m going to be tossed out again and realize you were just using me, but I know I won’t.  I know how much you love me, and I realized that I need to make a move to let you know I trust you.  So…this is it.  I want to marry you.  I think I’ve wanted to since our first date.  I love you so much, and I never want to let you go.  Hobi, will you marry me?”

Hobi had settled his hand over his mouth, eyes wide as she spoke.  For the first time in their relationship, she realized that she couldn’t read the expression on his face.  He was usually an open book, but today, he wasn’t.  He looked stunned, and she didn’t know if it was in a good or bad way.

But then, a grin lit up his eyes, and he giggled.  He looked so elated, and she wasn’t sure she’d ever seen him this happy before.

“Yes!  Yes, I’ll marry you!”

She stood to her feet immediately and jumped into his arms, crushing him in a hug.  He wrapped his arms around her, grinning from ear to ear.

“I thought you weren’t ready,” he laughed. “I never expected this.”

“I know.  That’s why I did it.  I wanted you to know I was ready.”

He pressed a kiss into her cheek before muttering, “can I see the ring again?”

She laughed and set her feet back on the ground, holding the ring box up so he could see the ring properly.  There wasn’t much lighting, but there was just enough that he could get an idea of what it looked like.  It wasn’t just a regular old band.  Nestled onto it was a gem, and from what he could see it appeared a faded blue.  Around it were a few other tiny gems, but they were hard to see in the dark.

“I love it,” he breathed.

“Do you?” she asked. “I’m glad.  Tae and Yoongi helped me pick it out, but I couldn’t be completely sure I should trust their judgement.”

He grinned. “Well, apparently you can.” He held out his hand. “Do you want to put it on me?”

She smiled and pulled it out of the box, taking his hand in hers and sliding the ring onto his ring finger.

“I’m sure it looks better in good lighting.”

“Are you kidding?  It already looks amazing!” He wrapped his arms around her waist then, pulling her up against him.  He nuzzled his nose against hers. “I love it.  I love you.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck, giggling. “I love you too.”

He tilted his head ever so slightly then so that he could kiss her, grinning against her mouth all the while.

“You don’t know how happy I am,” he told her.

“You can’t stop grinning.  I’d say you’re pretty happy,” she giggled.

“I am.  I love you.” His grin grew wider. “We’re engaged, aren’t we?”

She nodded. “We are.”

He pulled her up into his arms and spun her around. “I can’t wait to marry you.”

This is part of the Dad!BTS series that can be found here

A/N: Heheheheehehheheheheheheh 3/7 engagements down now :3 also lowkey had to rewrite something I wrote in their Valentine's story for this one to happen because originally he was going to propose

It would be greatly appreciated if you reblogged the story if you liked it!

Taglist: @jiminie-and-his-pinky-finger @jinnie-forthe-winnie @thornedswan @fly-you-dam-fools @aianloveseven @lvoekook @kookstempo

[invisibleraven]

If music blares and no one cares who your unruly heart loves

It's time for prom, only Julie is less than enthusiastic about it.

Read it on AO3 HERE!

Word Count: ~3.5k

This is my entry for the Free Day of @polyshipweek 2023!

I decided to write a prom story as my beloved @daintyduck99 created another gorgeous moodboard that you can see below that truly inspired me. I really hope you enjoy!

Julie scowled at the posters plastering the hallways of Los Feliz High. It seemed every inch was determined to remind her that prom was coming up. Once upon a time, Julie was like most every girl, fantasizing about going to prom, dancing under the twinkle lights, wearing the beautiful dress, having a real night to remember to cap off her high school experience. But now…

Well now she could care less because the stupid administration would never let her go with who she wanted.

Not that either of her boyfriends had asked her, mind you, and Principal Lessa was usually understanding, but given a small group of teachers had put up a stink about same sex partners going (which was struck down when the PTA was lead by a couple of lesbians) she doubted they would be so understanding about a threesome of partners.

She slumped off to the cafeteria, still making a face even though it was pizza day, the least objectionable school lunch. Her mood only soured when she got to her table to find Kayla gushing over how her boyfriend Lance asked her to prom just last period.

“Hey, what’s with the gloom cloud?” Flynn asked, offering her a ranch dipped carrot stick.

“Prom.”

“Since when are you anti-prom?” Carrie asked. “Just last year you told me you couldn’t wait to shop for a dress, as long as it wasn’t as voluminous as your quinceañera one.”

“That was when my date wouldn’t cause a stink.”

Flynn and Carrie shared a sympathetic smile. “I mean, you could still go. Do one dance with Luke, one with Reggie, then let them dance together. I know it’s not quite the same but…”

“We couldn’t get pictures done of all three of us, or have a dance all together, or even really share a table without one of us getting asked where our date was,” Julie grumbled.

“You were the one who didn’t want to advertise you were dating the guys until after we graduated,” Carrie argued. “You wanna keep it on the down low, you can’t exactly go to prom all together.”

“You know why we didn’t tell people,” Julie said. Carrie lowered her eyes, because she did know. Heck, when Julie started dating both boys, none outside of the three of them was supposed to know, but over time they had shared the news with their friends and explained why they had hidden it. There had been some hurt feelings, but in the end, they had all understood. “But I guess I didn’t really think about what I was giving up to be with them. It’s worth it, more than. They're the loves of my life-but… I still wish we could just go to prom.”

“Who’s going to prom now?” Reggie said as he sat down beside Julie, passing her an apple and snagging her celery sticks.

“Kayla and Lance,” Flynn supplied, sending Julie a i got you look.

“He prom-posed right in front of the whole history class,” Carrie said.

“Prom-posed?” Luke asked as he took the space on Julie’s other side, swapping her milk for a diary free one. Gosh, what would she do without them? Julie had been so deep in thought half of what had been on her tray would have gone uneaten. She gave them both a grateful smile before explaining.

“It’s when a guy makes a big production over asking a girl to prom, like it’s an over the top proposal.”

“That’s a thing?” Reggie asked between bites of celery. “Why?”

Julie shrugged in response. “I don’t see why you can’t just… ask you know? I personally would be mortified if anyone did that to me.”

“You don’t want some over the top spectacle?” Luke asked, though his voice was a little tense.

“God no,” Julie said, screwing up her face. “It’s embarrassing, and it puts too much pressure on the askee to say yes in the moment. I’m good with something private and simple. For prom, or anything beyond that.”

“Good to know,” Reggie said with a wink. Flynn looked at where Luke was frantically and subtly waving off the members of the marching band who had just entered the space. They looked a little put out, but retreated, and all Flynn could do was stifle a giggle. Looks like Julie’s himbos weren’t as dense as she thought about asking her-they just had no idea how.

She might just need to step in and help-it spelled disaster if she didn’t.

~

First things first was to confirm that the guys were actually planning on taking Julie to prom.

Scratch that-the first thing for Flynn to do was find out if they could.

She was sure she saw Mrs. Pearson the secretary suppress a groan when she saw Flynn, but buzzed Principal Lessa all the same, then waved her back. “Miss Taylor, what can I do for you?”

“It’s about prom.”

The woman’s shoulders sagged. “Look, you know I had nothing to do with the whole no same sex partners thing right? I fought long and hard to ensure you could go with your girlfriend.”

“I know,” Flynn replied. Principal Lessa was a lot of things, but a homophobe wasn’t one of them. Sure, she wasn’t the faculty supervisor for the GSA, but she knew the woman also drove around with a Pride sticker on her bumper year round. “This is concerning Julie.”

“Oh, I know you agreed to DJ, but if her band or Dirty Candi want to do a few numbers, I won’t say no.”

Flynn grinned at that, knowing neither band would turn it down. Okay, Luke might, but she had a feeling the rest of the Phantoms would outvote him. “I’ll pass the offer along. But no, this is about her date.”

“Does she want to bring someone from a different school? I already made allowances for that. As long as they’re of age, they’re welcome.”

“It’s more so the number of dates she wants to bring,” Flynn explained.

“Ah.” The principal folded her hands. “Misters Patterson and Peters I presume?” When Flynn shot her a bewildered look, the woman smiled. “Please, I’m not blind. The way they all look at each other? The little stolen touches? They aren’t as subtle as they think they are.”

Flynn laughed a little at that, they really weren’t. Plus the number of people who knew was growing larger every day, as all their friends knew, as well as Julie’s family. Not sure if Luke’s family was in the know, but Flynn was sure they suspected. She was positive Reggie’s folks didn’t know, but she also knew that the second he turned 18 just a few weeks away, right after they graduated, Reggie was getting out of that house and into Victoria’s spare room. Heck, she was fairly certain he practically lived there now. They all had a running bet that the three of them would be shacking up together by the fall anyways, but no one wanted Reggie living with his awful family any longer than he needed to. That was a big part of why Julie wanted their relationship secret-who knows what Linus Peters would do if he found out.

“So can they go together?” she asked, inching forward in her chair, a hopeful, pleading expression on her face.

Principal Lessa sighed. “Miss Taylor, I wish I could say yes, but the teachers who tried to stonewall you would definitely say something, and I don’t think I have it in me to fight another battle for the sake of three students.”

Flynn sagged in her chair. “That sucks.”

“However…” Principal Lessa said, a sly smirk on her face, “I can tell the photographer to look the other way if any students want group photos done, I’m sure Carrie would love an official photo done with the Dity Candi girls and their dates. And I can distract a few chaperones during the couples dances if Julie wanted to dance with both her dates at the same time. Someone has to ensure the punch isn’t spiked right?”

“You’re crafty, I like it.”

“Well thank you.” The woman smiled at Flynn. “You’re a good friend to Julie. I’ll try to get the more understanding teachers to keep an eye out during the dance, so go tell her it’s okay, but I am totally looking the other way.”

Flynn gave her thanks and ran off. She had some himbos to find.

~

DJ Flynn: Yo, boy band, you and cowboy gonna ask Jules to prom?

Guitar Hero: Well yeah, we had a whole plan and everything!

BassBabe: No, you had a plan. I told you Julie wouldn’t want a big thing!

Guitar Hero: Come on, you know she loves a good serenade!

BassBabe: Not in front of the whole school.

DJFlynn: Look, Lessa said it’s ‘okay’ for you guys to go together, and she has your backs as much as she can, so figure out something a little more low key and ask our girl out okay? She’s super bummed about this whole thing.

Guitar Hero: Already working on Plan B

BassBase: That means he’s writing a song.

DJFlynn: 🙄 Of course he is. Oh, Lessa says you can have 3 song slots if you want, Carrie and the girls are getting the same offer.

Guitar Hero: Prom band? Seriously?

BassBabe: Alex and I say yes. Plus then Julie has to go.

DJ Flynn: Exactly what I was thinking. Now go ask her!

~

“You gonna tell me where we’re going?” Julie asked as her boyfriends led her by her hands.

“Nope, you’re just gonna have to trust us,” Luke said.

“We’ve got you Julie, always,” Reggie promised.

“I would feel better about that if I weren’t blindfolded,” Julie retorted.

“We’re almost there, just one more step down,” Luke instructed.

Then the blindfold was pulled from her face, and Julie gasped. They were in her backyard, but it had been transformed. The trellis and trees were covered in fairy lights, with soft candles flickering around on the table. She could hear music playing in the background, a romantic ballad that she wouldn’t suspect the type of thing either of her boyfriends would listen to.

And there, on the cobblestone terrace, were scattered flower petals and a series of tealights spelling out one question: Prom?

“Oh,” Julie said. “You’re really asking me to prom?”

“Of course boss,” Luke replied. “Did you think we wouldn’t?”

“I-I guess I didn’t think you would, given we were keeping things a secret. Reggie what if…”

“Ssh, it’s okay darlin’,” Reggie soothed her. “I’m going to stay with Tia from now on. Why wait until my birthday?”

“So… no more hiding?” Julie clarified.

“I already told my folks, apparently they guessed long ago. They aren’t thrilled, but honestly I think they’re more pissed I’m putting off school to get our music out there,” Luke said.

“I don’t care what my parents think,” Reggie said firmly. “They haven’t cared about me or my life in ages. MeeMaw knows, she’s cool with it, and Julie, your family has practically adopted me, so I know they approve.”

“So prom?” Julie asks. “We can really go?”

“Lessa got our back and a contract for us to do a few songs,” Luke assured her. “So, you wanna be our date?”

Julie grinned and rushed into their arms, kisses being exchanged left and right as she agreed. “Surprised you didn’t prom-pose via song,” she said to Luke.

“He nearly did, I convinced him to keep workshopping it for a few years down the line,” Reggie said with a wink. Luke scowled good naturedly but pulled him in for a kiss, and Julie just shook her head. She could wait a few years to hear the song honestly.

But she already knew her answer for when she did.

Later, her lips swollen, the yard cleaned, and a song in her heart, Julie checked her phone and laughed.

DJ Flynn: Did the himbos ask you yet? We need to get you a dress ASAP

Ju Ju Bean: They did. We can hit up the shops tomorrow. Lunch is on me because I’m sure you had multiple hands in this.

DJ Flynn: Girl I didn’t do anything, but I’ll never turn down free food!

Julie shook her head. She knew Flynn would never tell her the part she played, but she felt a rush of fondness for her friend for making her dreams a reality.

~

Prom night was warm and lovely as Reggie pulled up to Luke’s house. Beeping the horn and grinning as Luke appeared at the door, and was halfway down the drive when his mom called him back. Placing three boxes into his hands and pressing a kiss to his cheek. Luke gave her a warm smile and pecked her forehead, then was off again. “Hey babe,” he said, sliding into the truck and pulling Reggie into a much more indecent kiss. “God I love that I can do that whenever I want now.”

“D-do you guys resent me for making you keep us a secret?” Reggie asked as he drove off, eyes resolutely on the road.

“What? God no!” Luke said vehemently. “Reg, babe, you did what you had to do to stay safe and keep a roof over your head. A few months of not having to share our relationship with the world and have you all to ourselves? That was nothing. Julie and I know you’re worth more than being public. But it is nice that we can be now without worrying.”

Reggie couldn’t help but smile at that answer. “I love you, you know that?”

“Yeah yeah, you big sap, love you too. Now, let’s go get our girl,” Luke replied, the both of them dabbing their eyes of moisture as they hopped out of the truck.

Julie flounced down the stairs as the bell rang, brimming with excitement and nerves. “Papi!” she called. “They guys are here!”

“If you three think you’re not getting pictures done before you go you’re insane!” Ray called back.

“Camera is on your desk!” Carlos yelled from the living room.

“Gracias mijo!” Ray called, smiling as he emerged with the camera seconds later, opening the door. “Well well boys, don’t we clean up nice.”

And boy did they!

Reggie was in a sleek suit, the jacket and vest a shiny red satin covered with little black butterflies. Luke was in a navy blue floral number, though Julie was willing to bet he’d lose the jacket mid way through the night, as he had already confessed to getting Flynn to tailor the shirt to be sans sleeves. They saw her and Julie giggled as their mouths opened slightly.

She gave a small twirl, showing off her white high tops covered in hearts, the sparkly skirt of her purple dress flying around her, and the light catching in all the rhinestones bedecking the leather jacket that had once been her mother’s. “Well, will I do?’

“Damn boss, you look good,” Luke said with a low whistle, only giving Ray a sheepish grin when the man lowered his eyes on him.

Reggie fared not much better as he stammered out a soft wow. He then reached out to the porch, pulling in three heart shaped balloons. “For the pictures,” he explained.

Luke got the three boxes his mom had shoved at him-boutonnieres for them all. They had gone with dahlias, Julie’s favourite flower in a nice white colour. Julie swore there was something in her eye when the boys slid hers over her wrist, but it must have been catching because their eyes were equally glassy as she pinned the flowers to their jackets.

Ray took as many pictures as he possibly could, capturing every moment, and making sure he got lots of pictures of the three of them together-”Just in case the one at the school won’t,” he said.

“Thanks papi,” Julie said, pulling him in for a hug, and Reggie stole the camera to capture a few shots of her and her dad, as well as the one that Carlos would allow before they had to hit the road.

They went off to eat, happy enough to get burgers from a local diner, not needing anything fancy. Their friends all met up with them there, everyone looking mighty fine indeed. Alex blushed when Reggie gave him an overexaggerated whistle, but Willie came and spun him, and that made him look infinitely pleased in his sheer shirt and blush pink jacket that somehow completely complimented Willie’s black suit covered in golden marigolds.

Carrie was in a slinky sparkly pink number with a high leg slit while Flynn’s turquoise tea length dress shimmered every time she moved. All the Candis were in theri signature colours, but Julie silently thought their dates lacked a bit of creativity given they were in simple black suits with ties to match their date’s dress.

Finally it was time to head to prom, which was being held at a local hotel. The space was awash in soft purple lighting, with a photo backdrop of shimmery silver fabric, and disco balls hung from the ballroom. They spent quite a bit of time getting photos done, and Julie pulled Flynn in for a hug when she found out the girl had convinced Lessa to allow group photos, and that she had also booked them a good chunk of time.

So no one said anything when Julie, Luke, and Reggie stepped up for their turn, doing a mix of corny and sweet poses. But Julie liked the last one best where her boys were kissing each of her cheeks, the joy evident on her face.

Dirty Candi had agreed to do their first song at the beginning of the night, and the floor was packed as they did their thing, Carrie looking radiant up on the stage. Julie giggled as she bounced and twirled with her boys, then over to Alex and Willie, then to Flynn before going back to a flailing Luke and Reggie who were doing some overly complicated swing maneuver in the silliest fashion possible.

Flynn stepped up to the DJ booth next, playing a few songs, and Julie knew it would be their turn soon, so she dragged the boys backstage to get ready. They rocked out, and gosh Julie had never felt so alive. Here she was, at prom, playing with her band, getting to dance with her boyfriends, and it felt like she was at the top of the world. Nothing could wipe the smile off her face.

They kept dancing and playing throughout the night, and though she wanted to, at every slow song, Julie would only pull one of the guys in, or let them dance together. She knew Principal Lessa had told Flynn she would try to keep the less liberal staff members at bay, but Julie didn’t want to push it.

Finally, it was coming towards the end of the night. Flynn glared at her. “Girl I did not go to Lessa just so you would have to pick and choose, go dance with your boys. I’ll mess with anyone who even tries looking at you funny.”

Julie bit her bottom lip, but then she saw Luke and Reggie’s hopeful faces, and she let them pull her towards the dance floor. Sandwiched between them as they swayed, Julie closed her eyes, feeling oh so safe and loved here in their arms. She could hear a few murmurs and whispers but when she opened her eyes, she didn’t see any hateful or confused looks. Only soft smiles, and… money changing hands?

God were they so obvious her classmates had been betting on them? Julie hoped someone she knew won the pot, and tittered to herself when she saw Willie shove a rather large stack of bills into his jacket. Good for him.

Julie didn’t pay attention to who won prom queen, but she was a little surprised to see that Carrie hadn’t run for it. “Eh, I have plenty of tiaras,” the blonde said. “Christina deserves it.”

Julie looked to where the perky cheerleader was dancing with a guy Julie swore was in the D&D club and played in a local metal band they had crossed paths with a few times… but shrugged. They looked super cute together, and honestly Julie was happy enough dancing on the sidelines with her own princes.

It was late by the time prom was over, and they headed back out to the truck. Sure they could have gotten a room, but Ray had trusted them to come home, even offering to let them sleep (just sleep mind you) together, and they weren’t about to betray his trust after all the support and love that he had given them.

So Julie ended prom night in her cozy jammies, snuggled up between her two boys, soft smiles on all their faces as they yawned. “So, prom all it was cracked up to be boss?” Luke asked.

“It was lovely, thanks for making it such a nice night,” Julie replied.

“Anything for you darlin;” Reggie mumbled, nuzzling into her curls.

Julie yawned once more, letting her eyes drift closed as Luke began to snuffle on her other side. Sure, Julie knew that the world might not always be kind to the three of them, but for one magical night, they got to be together, and that made it truly a night to remember.