#makes a good distraction of the damn holidays

[gatorasmus]

He is tall enough to pass for a tree... and considering Danny's luck with Christmas trees...

[writersdrug]

Konig despises eggplant. He won't go near the stuff. No matter how you cook it, he'll shiver and grimace every time you offer him a bite.

He goes with you everywhere - and I mean everywhere. Sits at the empty table next to you while you get your nails done. Walks down the path from your front door to the mailbox at the crack of dawn, his hands shoved in his pajama pants. Clingy, though he'll never admit it.

Loves a bar of 70% cocoa as a snack. Doesn't need water or milk to wash it down, but he won't turn down a glass of cold, whole milk if it's offered to him (it never is. He grabs it himself).

He'll yell at you to turn the water temperature down when you shower together. Corners himself as far away from the stream as he can, acting like you're threatening him with a scalding fire poke.

When he comes home after missions, he doesn't always drag you to the bedroom to do the devil's tango. Sometimes, he hugs you tightly and begs you to make an actual meal, something to replenish him after weeks of boiled chicken and canned beans from wherever he was shipped off to. He wants you to sit at the table with him and just talk, please just distract him from his own thoughts.

If you hand him something, he'll hold it. He won't even pause what he's doing, whether that's talking about Spartan phalanx formations, or listening to you babble about your day. And he won't let whatever it is go until you tell him what to do with it. You'll turn around, seeing him holding the half stick of butter you handed him well over five minutes ago. "König, baby, you can put that back in the fridge."

He holds your breasts in his sleep in a non-sexual way - but damn, his grip can be fucking tight sometimes. He's got his head resting on your soft stomach, snoring against your skin as his fingers dig and squeeze at your tits. It takes a few minutes of your whining and shoving at his head before he finally relents, wrapping his arms around your waist instead.

He's happy to go to Home Goods with you and spend an hour just sniffing the different candles. He tends to lean towards the apple, cinnamon, pumpkin, or any warm, holiday scents. He can't stand the ones like "tropical waves", or "fresh linen".

He has eaten an entire wheel of brie cheese in one sitting. Multiple times. With nothing else to compliment it. And he will do it again. You can't stop him.

[fastandcarlos]

My Favourite Alonso : ̗̀➛ George Russell

summary: after being introduced at last to some of your brother’s fellow drivers, one particular brit captures your attention…

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liked by fernandoalo_oficial, landonorris and 1,492,262 others

georgerussell63: another awesome week on the track, disappointed with the result but the car is starting to feel real good 🩵

184,967 comments

username1: trust the process george, you got this!!

landonorris: notice how I’m closing the gap in the second photo??

georgerussell63: @/landonorris you keep telling yourself that my friend…

username2: imagine being such good friends with a legend like it’s nothing 😭

fernandoalo_oficial: proudest day of my life making it onto the grid of THE george russell

georgerussell63: @/fernandoalo_oficial: you’ve really made it in life now 😂

username3: have you ever met a more popular driver on the grid??

kimi.antonelli: it was awesome to be there and learn so much from you this weekend 🩵

username4: we’re always so proud of you regardless of the result 👏🏻

lewishamilton: great drive again my friend, we’re on the rise as we finish the season!

username5: how anyone can drive in those conditions is crazy to me 🤯

mercedesamgf1: another great race weekend george 🩵

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liked by lewishamilton, carlossainz55 and 1,483,958 others

georgerussell63: you could be forgiven for thinking my summer holiday involved a lot of food, and you would be absolutely spot on 🥂

163,968 comments

username6: forget the food wtf is going on in that middle photo 🤔

charles_leclerc: damn someone’s really dressed to impress their girl over the summer break! 🔥

username7: not even food could distract us from that photo george

landonorris: the secretive post is such an ick btw 😂

georgerussell63: @/landonorris no one is as big of an ick as you are!

username8: I’m so happy to see you enjoying your not so single summer!!

username9: scrolling through socials to see if I’ve missed anything…

maxverstappen1: stop trying to be like the cool kids with your soft launch 🙄

lewishamilton: didn’t even tell your own teammate you had a girlfriend before telling the world 😭

username10: don’t think food was the only thing it involved a lot of judging by these photos 🤨

danielricciardo: stop trying to disguise your gf with food 😂

username11: you can’t just post something like this without telling us more 😫

fernandoalo_oficial: I feel like a proud dad 🥹

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liked by georgerussell63, lancestroll and 59,472 others

ynalonso: he’s a little more soft launch than me 🥺

6,381 comments

username12: thank you yn for doing george’s work for him 👏🏻

landonorris: and this is why you’re the favourite compared to george, never leave us hanging!!

oscarpiastri: I knew it was you all along 👀

username13: now this is the sorta partnership I can get behind 😂

iamrebeccad: remember a couple of weeks ago when I asked you if anything was going on and you said no!?

ynalonso: @/iamrebeccad I’m sorry we just weren’t ready to share 😭😭

username14: now it makes sense why he’s suddenly become so much more friendly with fernando…

danielricciardo: george really do he making himself friendly with the alonso family these days 😉

username15: his summer was definitely more than just food…george is a liar 😂

pierregasly: a little bit!? you’ve just come at us outta nowhere yn!!

fernandoalo_oficial: I wanna act surprise but secretly I was rooting for you two all along 🙌🏻

ynalonso: @/fernandoalo_oficial best. brother. ever. 😘

username16: yn is already my best friend simply cause she hard launches!!

lancestroll: you can’t go abandoning your aston martin roots now you know 💚💪🏻

username17: I refuse to believe that there are two better drivers who could make the best brothers in law 🥺🥺🥺

georgerussell63: why did I try so hard to be secretive for the whole summer 😂

ynalonso: @/georgerussell63 I just enjoyed tormenting you 🥰

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liked by lewishamilton, fernandoalo_oficial and 64,968 others

ynalonso: every half an hour I keep switching hats and hoping that no one notices 😂

6,973 comments

username18: you can’t have two favourites yn it’s forbidden 😂

georgerussell63: as long as you prefer the blue hat to the green hat idm 🩵

username19: I’ve got images of yn sprinting between the garages all weekend

landonorris: still don’t know why you could pick either of those when you could pick papaya 🧡

carlossainz55: @/landonorris or even better still pick ferrari red ❤️

ynalonso: @/landonorris @/carlossainz55 you’re both far too annoying for me 😂

username20: can’t wait to see fernando vs george to keep yn in their garage 🥊

lancestroll: every time you runaway and go to mercedes I’m sure I hear fernando cry 😂

ynalonso: @/lancestroll he’s always been the dramatic sibling 🙄

username21: their hats are bright blue and bright green ofc we’ll notice 😂

lewishamilton: we’ll give you whatever you want if you pick mercedes instead 😉

username22: this not a sustainable way of living yn 🙃

fernandoalo_oficial: just remember you’ve been green a lot longer than you have blue 💚

username23: you need a makeshift blue and green hat for best of both worlds!!

alex_albon: safe yourself the hassle and come and join lily at williams, she keeps moaning she’s lonely 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 67,593 others

ynalonso: just for all the people wondering how george and nando are such good friends, a collection of photos I’ve taken of the two of them over the years 🩵💚

7,138 comments

username24: for everyone saying these two weren’t close before yn…here’s your proof 👆🏻

georgerussell63: I look like I’m about ten years old in that first photo 🥺

ynalonso: @/georgerussell63 still just as handsome now you’re an old man 😂

georgerussell63: @/ynalonso still nowhere near as old as your brother 😝

username25: the friendship these two have had has always been special!

maxverstappen1: now I feel old looking at how old these two now are too

username26: I can imagine fernando being the one to set them up somehow 🤔

fernandoalo_oficial: don’t tell him this now I’m supposed to be the intimidating older brother…but he’s easily my favourite driver 🥹

ynalonso: @/fernandoalo_oficial you are the least intimidating person ik 😂

username27: look at baby george in the first photo 😫

alex_albon: someone explain please how fernando is only getting better with age!?

ynalonso: @/alex_albon it’s those alonso genes 🤩

landonorris: isn’t it about time that george got himself a different haircut!?

username28: fernando watching george grow up right before his very eyes 😭

danielricciardo: the kids grow up so fast 🤧

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by alex_albon, lewishamilton and 1,293,068 others

georgerussell63: she’s not used to hugging tall guys 😉

168,492 comments

username29: not george calling fernando out like this 😂

fernandoalo_oficial: just because you’re dating my sister don’t think I’ll let you get away with height jokes russell!!

georgerussell63: @/fernandoalo_oficial I’m sorry fernando please don’t hate me 😭

username30: you can’t be mean you’re basically family now 😭

danielricciardo: you’re a brave man making a joke like that 👏🏻

username31: good luck yn dealing with these two together!!

landonorris: nothing wrong with being a little bit on the smaller side 🤨

username32: you’re supposed to get her family to like you george not hate your guts

oscarpiastri: not everyone has the pleasure of walking around like a weird giraffe like you!

username33: can’t believe he’s done fernando dirty like this 😂

ynalonso: he might be small but he sure is mighty, I’d watch your back russell 😫

username34: this dynamic is delivering more than I ever thought it would!

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by ynalonso, landonorris and 1,294,067 others

georgerussell63: happy birthday to my love, turns out the alonso family know how to party too 💞🍾

48,492 comments

username35: this might be my favourite post of all time 🤩

oscarpiastri: happy birthday yn, thank you for such an awesome party last night!

ynalonso: I think it’s safe to say I’ll never forget last night, thank you for organising it all babe 💞

username36: who knew fernando and george were actually the double act we all needed

danielricciardo: now share the rest of the photos you have from last nigh!?

georgerussell63: @/danielricciardo if I shared many more of the photos I have I’ll probably get banned by instagram 😂

username37: I can’t stop thinking about this party and these photos 😂😂

landonorris: I can’t erase the image of fernando on the table from my eyes!!!

alex_albon: no one enjoyed themselves at the party last night more than fernando!!

username38: who knew fernando still had all those moves…

maxverstappen1: I don’t think I’ll recover from what I saw last night for a long time hahah

username39: at least now we all know exactly where yn gets it from!!

fernandoalo_oficial: remember what happens at the club stays at the club 😉

georgerussell63: @/fernandoalo_oficial I have a lot more respect for you after last night 🍷

username40: george you have no idea that you’re about to be part of the best family ever 🤩

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[cashmoneyyysstuff]

cookie, cookie !!

baking cookies with suki :3

katsuki’s been hovering around you for about 6 minutes now.

you had decides on a whim you wanted to bake some cookies, and since the holidays were coming up, now was the perfect excuse to. you were soon joined in the dorm kitchen by your grouchy boyfriend, who had just come back from his morning run.

you explained you were in the mood for cookies and he responds with a grunt. but then he proceeds to stay in the kitchen, awkwardly standing around looking at the cupboards and utensils like this is the first time he stepped foot in a kitchen before.

he then proceeds to just hover around behind you, staring over your shoulder like a child waiting to see if the cookies were done yet. you found it cute at first, but that constant scowl and scrutinizing look on his face makes you feel like you’re doing something wrong, and frankly it’s making you a little nervous and baking cookies should not be nerve racking !

“would you stop doing that ? i know what i’m doing” you snap your head to squint at him and he stiffens like he’s been caught, like he was being even remotely close to sneaky to begin with, which he wasn’t.

“m’not doin’ anything” he mutters defensively, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his sweats. “just lookin’ atcha. m’i not allowed to ?” he leans in so his nose is almost touching yours, that stupid little handsome smirk on his lips as his eyes fixate themselves on your lips before looking back up. you gulp, then you place your hand on his face and push him away lightly “you’re distracting me” you mutter, feeling your face grow hotter. he chuckles to himself before turning on his heels and leaning again the countertop.

it’s quiet for a second before you feel like calling him out as payback for teasing you “ is there a reason you’re still here ? you wanna lick the batter or something?” you quip teasingly and you snort when his face morphs into one of disgust “hell no.” he scoffs, looking at you before looking down at the batter you’re currently mixing the shit out of, screw whoever broke the mixer. “how long are ya gonna keep mixing that ?” his eyebrow raises in question

“until it’s good” you huff, taking a break from mixing to keep your fingers from cramping up. then you suddenly get an idea

“oh, suki~” you sing turning to look at him. he eyes you suspiciously, crossing his bulky arms across his chest and grunting out a suspicious “what do you want ?”

“well~” you start walking towards him, proceeding to wrap your arms around his middle and give him your best puppy eyes. his doesn’t budge but he squints at you even harder and you can basically feel him cave already “what?” he urged again.

“since you’re oh, so strong and handsome, could you please do me a favor and mix the batter for me, my handsome boyfriend?” you give him your sweetest smile and he scoffs, “what the fuck does being handsome even have to do with it ?”he mumbles. pink dusts his cheeks and he looks away from you, already feeling his resolve crumbling at your shallow praise. he hates how easily he gives in to you sometimes. you squeeze at his waist, he grunts “thought you said i was distracting you.”

you’re pouting at him, he sees it from the corner of his eye and he’s this close to blowing up. “that was before. you’d be helping me out lots now if you did this for me” you’re relentless, standing on your tippy toes to lean in close to his face cus he won’t stop leaning further away from you.

he could very easily just shove you off if he wanted to, but you have a feeling he doesn’t want to. you know he doesn’t want to when he closes his eyes shut and his eyebrows furrow and then he groans, letting his hands fall at his sides limply before glaring at you. “gimme the damn bowl.” he growls. you squeal, pressing kisses all over his face and a finisher one right on the tip of his red scrunched up nose, he grunts at you but gives you a light pat to the back, rubbing his warm hands up and down your spine. then he pinches you, you giggle. “thank you ‘suki.” he responds with a “yeah, yeah whatever.”

he grabs the bowl from your hands starts mixing..hard. letting off his aggression on the bowl like it was at fault for his weak will to deny you. you smile to yourself and turn to the cupboard so you could grab the decorations and of course, the chocolate chips.

you watch for a bit as your boyfriend mixes away, you’re watching how his toned arms flex and how the muscle of his arms tightens and tenses up, more specifically. one thing’s for sure, you’ll never get tired of his arms. you quickly turn away before he can catch you staring and teases you again.

you jump when he calls for you not even a second later “s’this good?” he asks gruffly, leaning forwards to show you his work. you feel your face warm as you squeak out a curt “yeah, looks good !” before taking the bowl back from him and turning right back around to reach for the baking sheet you had prepped. he’s none the wiser for a moment before a knowing grin crosses his face, he shakes his head.

you place everything down on the counter and sigh happily to yourself, feeling accomplished. you walk over to your grumpy boyfriend and place a sweet kiss to his cheek “you’re the best.” he clicks his tongue, muttering out a “tell me something i don’t know.” while the pink on his cheeks grows darker, you let out a giggle.

“you done with this ?” he asks lifting the spatula in the air for you to see, you offer him a simple “mhm” and a smile before turning back to the task at hand and watch from the corner of your eye as he places the spatula in the sink.

not before taking a lick of the excess batter still on it.

your head shoots up and you stare, he stares back. then you let out a loud belly laugh and clutch your stomach “so you were just here to lick the batter !” katsuki only grunts. there’s a light smirk on his face as he licks away a speck of cookie dough batter off his lips. he shrugs, walks up to you and places his head on your shoulder.

“figured i deserve a little somethin’ for my hard work.” you roll your eyes. his hold on you tightens and he huffs, trying to get as comfortable as he can while still standing up as he simply watches work.

“hmm..” you decided to humor him “ you did help a lot, i think i can give you a little more" you look at him from your shoulder just in time to catch his eyebrow raise as he registers what you said, a smirk playing on his lips when he does. he readjusts his head to look you in the eyes.

“yeah ?”

“mhm..” you hum. his grip tightens, his hands feel warmer.

“whaddya have in mind then, huh ?” he whispers. he’s so close and you can smell your body wash, probably because he keeps stealing it but you keep quiet about that for now.

“i dunno..” you trail off shyly, your confidence melting away under his smoldering gaze. “would…a smooch suffice ?” you giggle. he chuckles to himself at your choice of words. he grabs the back of your head softly, pulling you in closer until your noses brush against each other and he gives you a half hearted little nose kiss, you giggle and he smiles a little wider.

“s’a good start” he concludes before pressing his lips to yours.

[azsazz]

A Snowy Starfall

Daddy!Azriel x Reader

Summary: Anon Req: Batbabies waging their OWN snowball fight imitating their dad & uncles. Some take it too seriously, others don't take it seriously at all, it's pure chaos that ends in cocoa.

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 2,003

Notes: Happy Holidays my loves 💙

_________________________________________

“Come on, you three,” you tut towards your mate and his friends. They’re standing before the large glass windows overlooking your backyard. The sun casts deep oranges and reds across the snow-ridden land, your children shrieking as they play in the snow. A valiant snowball fight is running its course, and Azriel, Cassian, and Rhysand stand, faces pressed to the windows as they watch, quietly cheering their children on. “They’re going to notice you staring.”

“Maybe they already have,” Feyre adds from her spot at your kitchen counter. She’s concentrating intently on decorating a cookie, adding swirls of black icing to the gingerbread woman’s hand, creeping up her extended arm. The cookie’s dress is provocative, bare dough legs showing between slats of laced icing. She hardly glances up as she continues, “They’re probably imitating them as we speak.”

Curious, you peek out the window, too. Indeed, Wren and Baz have built a fortress in the snow to protect themselves from the onslaught of snowballs being thrown their way. Gideon and Nyx have joined forces against the two brothers, the latter packing the fluffy snow into tight, white balls, while Gideon launches their ammo towards your sons.

Your eldest daughter, Zuzu, and Nyx’s younger sister, Asteria, had joined the competition early on. They’d been a formidable team too, but grew bored of their brothers and cousin who were taking the snowball fight a little too seriously. Now, they are in the snow with little Castor, who had cried until she’d been let outside by her protective father, bundled up in so many clothes her wings nearly disappeared into the fabric. The girls are making snow angels, though Castor’s looks very much like a circle on the lawn.

Dark streaks dart behind the wall your sons have built and you frown, watching as Baz’s shadows help roll clumps of snow closer, creating perfectly circular snowballs. From what you’d heard from your husband’s friends, using shadows was against any and all snowball fight rules.

You cut Azriel a glance but he’s conveniently occupied, watching the game outside.

“Well, at least they’re both on the same team,” you comment to your mate, who refuses to let his gaze stray from the little boys. Good, he can watch them while he does the dishes then, since there’s a window above the sink. You pat him on the ass, nodding towards the mess of dishes in the sink. He nods in response, loping quickly over to peer out the window again. “So they’ll either both lose or both win.”

“They’ll both win,” Az responds immediately, a quick but pointed look your way. “They do take after me.”

Cassian scoffs behind you and you turn to see a scowling Nesta shooting him a look as he tries to steal a cookie. Jax giggles in her lap at his uncle's antics, but when Cassian hands him part of the cookie and its head falls off, Jax’s smile wobbles. He’s not outside due to the nature of his powers. As an empath, sensing the competitive nature of his siblings and the sting of a snowball to the face, it had been in his best interest to be inside around the luscious scents of cookies and warmth, instead of out in the bitter snow.

Nesta coos, bouncing him, and Cassian is thankful for the distraction, slipping further down the counter to where the High Lord sits, trying—and failing—to gain his mate's attention. The commander slips an arm around Rhys’ shoulders and glares at the back of Azriel’s head, continuing his complaining. “The only reason you’ve won so many is because of those damn shadows, Az.”

Azriel throws over his shoulder, wincing as Baz takes a snowball to the face, his face going red with fury. “How was I supposed to know they were unaffected by the magic restrictions?” he claims, sending said shadows out into the yard once he sees Baz’s slipping through the snow, headed for the icicles hanging off the railings of the porch. His intercept his sons in a display of authority, spearing them into blackened mist. Baz glances up to the window, locking eyes with his father, who wears a look of warning on his face, brow raised. Azriel watches his son visibly huff and take his anger out on the snow, building a ball and launching it across the playing field in frustration.

His gaze cuts across the yard, narrowing his eyes. Gideon and Nyx are crouched low behind their own pile of snow, looking like they’re scheming. He wants to trail his shadows in their direction, listen in on their conversation, but he’s alerted to Malos’ whines from the other room. If one of his youngest is awake, they either both are, or will be soon.

“Malos is up,” Az tells you softly, shutting off the water to the sink. He wipes his hands on a towel and kisses you gently on the cheek. You’re mixing color into icing for the cookies, getting ready for when it’s too dark out for the children to play. They’ll get all cleaned up and have some hot chocolate to warm their bellies, and you, Feyre, and Nesta have baked cookies for all of the children to decorate. “I’ll get them.”

“I’ll join,” Cassian answers, stealing another cookie off of a platter. He dunks it into your icing to the neck, the cookie dripping with sugary goodness as he lifts it to his mouth, shoving it inside. He ducks under your glare. “Gotta go get my baby.”

Cassian and Nesta’s youngest daughter, Sif, had been put down for a nap with both Knox and Malos. She’s still a little too young to be outside without supervision, and the eldest children of the Inner Circle demanded time outside without their parents, probably because they knew their fathers would try and take over their snowball fight had they been outside. They didn’t want any tips or tricks, not even your children, even with Azriel’s hundred of wins beneath his belt.

Jax climbs from Nesta’s lap over Rhys who lets out a harsh exhale when his knee lands a little too close to his private area, and then over to Feyre, who finally sets her cookie down to scoop your middle son in her arms.

“Pretty,” Jax comments, pointing at her decorative cookie. It looks just like her, and there’s one next to it that looks a little like Rhysand. Purple dots for eyes stare up at him. “Uncle Rhysie?”

“Good job, Jax,” Feyre coos, pressing kisses to his cheeks. They pink with a blush and he settles into her arms, looking utterly at bliss. He revels in the warmth of her emotions, the pride surging through her. It feels like warm bubbles in his chest, and he noses at her collar.

“Look who’s ready to party,” Azriel announces, entering the room, arms full with your two youngest children, Malos and Knox. Knox still looks a little sleepy, head resting against Azriel’s shoulder, cuddling into his warmth. His tiny wings are droopy with sleep, and his twin sister, Malos, is already reaching for the cookies. 

Nesta is quick to scoop her away from Azriel. She claims not to have a favorite niece, but Malos and her have an understanding. You see more of Nesta in Malos’ personality than any of the children of the Inner Circle, and you’re extremely happy that they have such a close connection. 

“Hi baby,” you greet Knox, who is signing mommy to you. You ease him out of Azriel’s arms, who promptly returns to his position in front of the window, pressing exaggerated kisses to his chubby cheeks. It makes him smile wide, flaring those wings that he hasn’t quite figured out how to control. “Are you ready for some yummy cookies?”

His dark eyes light with excitement. Of course your children are ready for sweets, they always are. They picked that up from Azriel, who has the biggest sweet tooth you’ve ever seen.

Cassian reenters the room with his daughter in his arms and Rhys pouts. Almost everyone in the room is preoccupied with a child in their arms, except for him. Maybe he can convince Feyre to have one more. The youngest children in the family are two now and he misses having a tiny babe around.

By the heated look in her eyes, his mate seems to be considering the same, sneaking past those shadowy walls in his mind to catch a glimpse of his thoughts. The High Lord smirks. He sends her over some imagery to go with his thoughts, and her cheeks go red. That hot look turns into one of warning, and she’s speaking out loud now, “Why don’t you call the children inside so they can get warmed up and decorate some cookies?”

“Of course, darling,” Rhys sweeps from his seat in a wisp of darkness. 

Breaking a cookie in half, you give part of it to Knox, who signs thank you, munching on the sweet. The other half is passed to Malos as you head towards where your mate is finishing up the dishes, leaning against him for a moment, reveling in all of your family happily together.

“I love you,” Azriel murmurs into your hair, leaning over to sneak a bite of Knox’s cookie. Your son stares up at his father with wide eyes, and like this, he looks just like Az. It makes your heart warm, and Jax squeals in happiness in response, your happiness radiating to him. It makes your grin wider, peeking over your shoulder to see him so content in his aunt's arms. 

“I love you too, Az,” you whisper back to him, resting your forehead against his. 

It’s a nice moment, until the children from outside are wrangled through the door by Rhys. The boys are arguing about who has won their snowball fight, while the girls are peeling away their winter gear, excited to decorate cookies with icing and sprinkles and the edible petals Elain had given you before her trip to the Summer Court with Lucien. 

“Now, now, boys,” Rhys starts, but the diplomatic tone he’s using does nothing to deter the cousins from arguing. “I’m sure we can come to a consensus without yelling and acquiescing.”

“But Baz used his shadows,” Nyx complains, wringing his gloves between his hands in frustration. “We all saw it.”

“Nyxie, don’t be mean to Baz,” Wren counters, brows furrowed. He doesn’t like it when his family argues, especially over trivial things. His heart is so kind. “You can win the snowball fight if you want, but Baz and I are gonna win the cookie decorating contest, right Bazzy?”

“No,” Baz says flatly, dropping his gear onto the floor. You give him a look but he almost seems un-bothered by it, done with the debate his cousins are currently having. “We won the snowball fight and we’re going to win the cookie decorating contest.” 

You share a look with your mate, watching the scene unfold. Baz is quite the Stubborn Suriel, no matter what it comes to.

“Dad,” Nyx groans, “Can’t you do something?”

Cassian is the one who comes to the rescue, Castor reaching up at him for her sister. He helps the little one down and the older one with her undressing, peeling her thermals off layer by layer. “It’s not about who won, right boys? It’s about spending time and having fun with the ones you love.”

Feyre, Nesta, and yourself awe at his words, but Azriel and Rhysand are rolling their eyes and muttering under their breath at Cassian’s cheesy words. 

“What a kiss ass.”

“Smug fucker.”

“Azriel,” you hiss, turning your body away from him, like that will hide Knox from his vulgar words. “Language.” 

He winces, “Sorry love.��� 

It’s your turn to roll your eyes now, bouncing Knox in your arms a little as you turn fully from your mate. You poke Knox’s belly playfully before addressing the rest of the room. “How about those cookies, then? They won’t decorate themselves!”

[lovebugism]

hi bug! could i have ditsy!reader with eddie with the prompt “we can put up the christmas lights tonight!”

she’s just the clumsiest bean ever and almost falling off the ladder as she leans across to hang up the lights. and eddie is just gripping onto her waist so incredibly tightly as he doesn’t want his girl to get hurt :((

just something incredibly fluffy!!

ah this is so so cute! i hope you like it :D — you, the clumsiest girl on earth, decorate the munson trailer and make a worrier out of your otherwise carefree boyfriend (ditzy!fem!reader, established relationship, fluff, 1k)

blurbcember ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

The trailer smells entirely of the holiday season — of vanilla and cinnamon and something somehow sweeter. It’s because Eddie’s burning a batch of sugar cookies in the oven. “Shit, shit, shit,” he mutters as he sits the smoking snowflake pastries on the stove. 

They’re not totally black, so that’s a plus. They may be only slightly inedible, though.

He shakes his pale hand from the oven mitt and figures he’ll have to throw them out before you get to them. He knows you’ll pretend to like them just so you don’t hurt his feelings — too sweet for your own good. 

Eddie’s contemplating this when he notices how quiet the living room has gone. The television plays a muted static, but the lack of your voice is palpable. You’re rarely ever so silent. It’s like every room you’re in glows with the sound of your voice. You only get this quiet when you’re super concentrated.

His head snaps towards the living room — not totally surprised to find you hanging up Christmas lights by yourself but still a little terrified, anyway. His chocolate eyes widen in time with his heart plummeting to his chest.

“I thought we agreed to take a break?” he shouts, rounding the kitchen counter and rushing over to you.

He plants himself in front of the couch you stand on, slightly unstable on the peeling pleather cushion. His ringed fingers are warm on either side of your hips. They clutch you tight with a worry you don’t seem to have.

You string rainbow-colored lights over Wayne’s collection of mugs, leaning over the arm of the couch to fuss with the dangling bits.

Excitement and clumsiness is a dangerous concotion when it comes to you.

“We did, but these were the last things left in the box, and I couldn’t stop thinking about them,” you explain in a tiny, faraway voice — obviously distracted. Your tongue pokes gently from your lips as you try to string lights over the last mug on the left.

“Babe, c’mon,” Eddie urges, voice wavering as his hands grip you tighter.

He doesn’t know if he’s helping as much as he thought he would, or if you feel more comfortable being less careful because you know he’d never let you fall.

Either way, he breathes out a sigh of relief when you stand upright again.

“They were looking at me funny, Eds, I swear!” you say with all your usual dramatics as you turn away from the wall to face him. You’re still standing upright on the old, rickety couch, and he’s still holding tightly onto you.

Your brows are furrowed, your doe eyes wide and twinkling with innocence, and your petaled mouth softly pouted. He couldn’t be angry with you if he tried. You’re too pretty to do anything but love on.

“I believe you, baby,” Eddie assures you with a soft, pink smile. A small chuckle spills from it as he helps you to the ground again, pale palms clutching the outsides of your elbows. 

He keeps holding you like that when you stand in front of him. He gives you a gentle squeeze there and rubs his thumbs over your skin. “Just let me know next time, alright? Before you give me a damn heart attack.”

“But I wasn’t even doing anything,” you insist, still pouting softly but only so he’ll wanna kiss you more.

He pulls you closer by your arms and makes you stumble into his chest. “I just don’t want you to get hurt, sweet thing,” he murmurs lowly to you and with his lips curled into a pretty, lopsided thing.

“It’s just Christmas decorations,” you shrug in a measly voice.

Eddie gives you a hardened look made entirely of melted chocolate.

You cave immediately. 

“I’ll be careful,” you promise.

His big, stupid grin returns to him. “Good,” he hums, right before bending softly down and smacking a kiss to your waiting mouth.

It’s a fleeting peck — a slotting of your lips and a leaving. You can taste the sugary icing on him, anyway. It leaves you buzzing for more when he pulls away.

“I’m gonna put some more cookies in the oven, ‘kay? Give me ten minutes, and we’ll finish decorating, alright? Together.”

He walks backward towards the kitchen. You beam in response. “I’ll go get the ladder so we can do the rest of the lights!” you offer, voice coated with excitement and sunshine.

“Absolutely not!” Eddie exclaims with a chuckle. Your smile ebbs instantly. “Wayne's ladder is older than I am, babe— you’ll definitely break your neck on that thing!”

You roll your sparkling eyes at him. “You’re being dramatic,” you say with a smile and shake of your head.

“I’m serious, babe,” he tells you, gentle but still stern. He tilts his chin to his chest and gives you a deep brown and serious glare. “Don’t make me fight you over this,” he cautions, still playful in his way.

Your cheek falls to your shoulder. You shoot him a teasing smile and cross your arms over your chest. “I’d still win,” you insist in a pretty little voice.

Eddie scoffs and walks the short distance back to you. “Obviously. But with the power of distraction, I’d keep you from climbing your pretty ass on that ladder, so… Who’s the real winner?”

“Still me,” you joke, smiling when he plants another kiss to your mouth.

“How about you come in the kitchen with me then, huh?” he suggests, if only to soothe his anxious heart. “You can sit on the counter and look pretty while I destroy another batch of cookies. I won’t even feel bad if you make fun of me for burning them.”

Your lips purse softly to the side as you think on his offer.

“I’ll give you a kiss for it,” Eddie blurts in attempts to persuade you.

He blinks, and your arms are wrapped around his neck — an embrace most pleasantly suffocating. He laughs softly, with his nose smushed against yours, and wraps his arms around your waist. He lets you kiss him like your life depends on it a second later.

[dearest-nell]

turbulence

e. munson x reader, 1.7k

summary: you and eddie are taking your first real vacation together, but the turbulence of the flight is enough to make anyone regret their mode of travel includes: established reader x eddie, eddie being a comfort king, just a bunch of sweetness all round warnings: flight warnings, stormy skies, reader is terrified of flying and the flight is a bit rocky. no real danger.

a/n: shoutout to random images on pinterest for inspiring this one

How the hell you’d thought that this was a good idea was anyone’s guess. 

The idea had been so simple; you and Eddie had run yourselves into the ground to save up for your first overseas trip – his first one ever. Well… not quite overseas, though Eddie had very decidedly announced that Hawaii counted all the same. It had come from a thousand nights of cheap noodle dinners and canned tuna to garnish, leaving you sure that you never again would touch a pack of the grimy stuff. Double shifts and weekend overtime earned you enough money to get you to the airport, an excitable Eddie half trembling with the thrill of the journey. 

He’d been up almost the entire night before tossing and turning, eager hands squeezing at your waist as he tried his best not to wake you. Restlessness was par for the course with him, but even more so, this trip had him vibrating on an entirely new frequency. He’d never been out of state until he met you, had never seen a plane any larger than the size of his thumb held comparatively to the sky. The best part, though, was that he was getting to share this all with you. His life had been a constant stream of new experiences, a high he’d never had the pleasure of knowing until he felt what it was like to be loved so wholeheartedly by another. There was nothing so thrilling to him as the idea of basking in the sun with you, blissfully drunk and happily snuggled on a shared beachside lounge. 

Discount resort be damned, you’d been savvy in finding the best bargain the travel agent could offer. Eddie had never thought frugal spending could be so fucking sexy before. 

You, however, could not share his excitement with equal merriment. Sure, the holiday part sounded like a dream, and all of Eddie’s wishful thinking and imaginings had made you fall even more in love with the idea. Getting there, however, was another story, because unlike Eddie, you had been on a plane before. One time too many, if anyone were to ask. 

You did not like the small spaces, the recycled air, the uniform packaged meals that all somehow tasted like plastic. There was never enough room, always too much noise, and worst of all, nowhere to go. Every plane trip was spent with you counting down the minutes until your feet touched solid ground once more, a sensation you somehow seemed to forget with every passing travel until the next occurred. 

The dread had begun to build inside the airport, your hand clasped rigidly around the strap of Eddie’s backpack, his movements and your directions guiding your joined bodies through the chaos. If he knew something was wrong, he did not dare to comment. You were quieter than usual, after all, but it was easy enough to chalk that up to the obnoxiously early flight you were catching. It was cheaper that way, and you could sleep on the plane, you’d justified to yourself. The hour was enough to quieten even the most talkative of beings, twilight skies lulling Eddie to a gentle drawl as he rattled on about your upcoming adventures. 

Now that you were on the plane, though, it seemed all the worse. You’d been so brave through the takeoff, chewing on a pack of gum until your jaw ached from the tension, your hand tucked firmly under Eddie’s on the seat rest. You’d given him the window, his delight at the magic of flight distracting you enough until you were safely coasting through the sky. 

Eddie had chosen to sleep not long after, his head pressed to the wall of the plane despite the low rumbles, a position that could not conceivably be comfortable to anyone but Eddie. He could sleep anywhere, you’d learned early on in your relationship, and it seemed planes were no exception. You, however, were wide awake, trying your best to lose yourself in a book and suppress that nauseating feeling slowly taking over. 

It was within the hour that the turbulence began, gentle rumblings of the plane triggering that hazy green seatbelt sign to ignite. The captain warned that it would likely get worse before it got better, a thought that only exacerbated your growing anxieties. Eddie somehow slept through it all, even as the aircraft began to tremble and jolt. You didn’t want to wake him, not when he was sleeping so comfortably, still dreaming of all the good things to come. It felt silly to be frightened by such a small thing. Planes were safe, you knew that, but that seemed to be the trouble with anxiety; logic never mattered when the fear was so heightened. 

It was only when a terrified squeak left your lips that Eddie’s eyes flew open, his body shooting up rigidly in reaction to the sound. He’d have heard it anywhere, that terror, his body conditioned into a state of protection for you. The back of his hand wiped lazily at the sleep in his eyes, his body turning to face you on instinct. 

“What’s wrong? You okay?” You could hear the exhaustion that tinged his words, his eyes softening as he took in the fright in your own. 

“Its–” Your voice drowned out under the weight of thunder, the jolt leaving the tray tables to rattle in its aftermath. You couldn’t make your words come out, your lips hanging open in a frozen cry. 

Eddie did not need the clarification. He had never thought to consider you, his brave, sweet creature might have such fears, leaving guilt to turn sour in his mouth as it settled across him, knowing he had left you to face your fears alone. “Oh, sweetheart.” The solidity of his arms encased around you, tucking you gently into the curve of his side, hand cradling the back of your skull and the small of your back to shield you from the rest of the plane. “It’s okay, you’re okay.” 

“We’re going to die.” You whined, lilting in devastation into the fabric of his shirt. 

Eddie tried not to chuckle, his smile itching with amusement. “We’re not gonna die. We’re gonna be fine.” 

“We’re literally going to die.” You tried again, clinging to him until your knuckles were an ashen, bone white. 

Another jolt of the plane had you wincing, forcing Eddie to lift his gaze and observe your surroundings. Other than a few anxious fliers, most of the passengers were beyond asleep, tucked neatly into their own rows of the plane. No one else had much cause for alarm, the crew were muddling along their usual routes with a look of calm that even a professional could not fake. 

He dropped his attention back to you, slowly prying you from his side just enough to lift the armrest from between you, a reassuring arm scooping you now closer than before into his embrace. He could feel the tremble in your body as you burrowed your way into his side, trying to block out every other sensation but the feel of his body against yours. 

“You wanna know how I know that we’re not gonna die?” He asked assuredly, cupping at the base of your skull to prop your head against his shoulder, his grip firm and grounding in all the ways that were so incredibly Eddie. He felt you nod, hair slipping through the gaps of his fingers with every movement. 

“Because the crew aren’t panicking. No one’s brushin’ up on procedure or trying to wake everyone up. They're not at emergency stations. I’m pretty sure half of them are gossiping over there, can you see?” 

He lifted his hand to point, watching as your gaze followed the extension of his index finger, your lower lip dragging between your teeth to chew upon nervously. They all looked so calm, exchanging little whispered comments until one gentleman threw his head back in a silent laugh, shaking his head at his co-worker. 

“If we were gonna die,” Eddie continued, calloused fingers dipping between the layers of fabric at your waist to rub at your skin, letting the heat of his body lull you into further comfort, “then they’d be movin’ a hell of a lot faster than that, right? We’re gonna be fine, so you don’t gotta worry bout a thing.” 

He could see the contemplation simmering in your eyes, weighing up your fears with his logic, trying to discern where he line was. It was no easy thing to overcome a fear, especially one like this, but he loved you just for trying, even if your trembling figure only settled a little in his embrace. 

“Could you hold me anyways? Just until it goes away.” You turned to him with such sincerity, eyes widened and imploring in your gaze. 

He softened a reassuring smile in return, reaching to hook your legs over the nearer of his own, draping your body over his in whatever way these budget seats would allow. “I’m not letting you go, honey, not for a minute. I’ll hold you all the way there, so just settle in. We’re gonna get through it together.” 

As tired as he was, as muddled as he sure felt, Eddie did not mind staying up just to give you that peace of mind. His head fell back into the headrest, propping him up to keep watchful gaze on the comings and goings around him. It took the responsibility off you, feeling assured that he was there to spot if something went wrong along the way. Somehow, with his gentle movements across the expanse of your back and his steady, rhythmic heartbeat thrumming just beside your ear, you slipped out of consciousness, the exhaustion of this already long day finally dragging you under. 

Eddie was only able to notice once the turbulence subsided, expecting you to perk up with a surveying glance, only to find the rise and fall of your chest slow and drowsy against his own. He pressed chapped lips to your forehead, letting his own eyelids hang low as his vision faded drearily. He could sleep now, satisfied with the idea that neither of you would wake again until your hard earned landing was in sight.

[vivwritesfics]

another one (cuz apparently im only on a roll at 2:36 am on a sunday morning) fernando (aka the love of my life aka the man of my dreams aka MY MAN) and idrc what it is like maybe hes ur bodyguard or dads best friend or best friends dad but i js NEED an age gap. thank you vivi.

I woke up thinking about this one lmao

Warnings: smut hints, age gap (the usual for this sexy old man lmao)

How did he let this happen? He knew it was a terrible idea, to let her tempt him into her bed.

But here he was, arms wrapped around her as she slept soundly. God, she looked so pretty, he thought as he watched her. Her chest steadily rising and falling as she slept, back pressed against his chest. His fingers were laced through her own, feeling every time she slightly flexed them in her sleep.

He looked past her, at the red numbers flashing on her alarm clock. Slowly and carefully, Fernando attempted to untangle himself from her. He wriggled his fingers from between her own and pulled back.

A cross between a whine and a groan left her lips when Fernando pulled away. "Where are you going?" She asked, voice croaky and her eyes not quite open.

He dropped a kiss onto her cheek. "I need to go," he whispered.

She turned in the bed to face him, the expression on her face furious. "Stay," she commanded. If he had been wearing any clothes, she would have grabbed his shirt to keep him in the bed with her.

Fernando looked past her, looked at her alarm clock once again. It was a risk, but she was worth it. "Five more minutes, Bichito." (Bug)

The minute he said it, she climbed her way on top of him, legs settling on either side of his hips. "Let's make the most of it, then," she whispered and dipped down, crashing her lips against his own.

***

Fernando watched as the daughter of the wealthy business man sipped her ice coffee. Round sunglasses covered her eyes and she had one leg crossed over the other. He couldn't deny that she looked good.

But she wasn't looking at him. That would have been unprofessional of them.

That didn't stop her from speaking to him. "What if I went on a holiday somewhere?" She asked and sipped at her drink. Although she wasn't looking at him, it was so damn clear she was talking to him.

"Where would we go, Bichito?" He asked, his gaze forward.

She shrugged her shoulders, and Fernando just about caught it out of the corner of his eye. "Somewhere private. Somewhere that nobody would bother us. Somewhere it could just be you and I."

Fernando couldn't stop the smile from gracing his features for just a second. Somewhere it could just be the two of them. That sounded amazing. Actually, there was nothing more that Fernando wanted.

She finished her drink, ice rattling as she stirred them slightly. But then she stood and began walking away from the café. Fernando fell into step just a few paces behind her. If he had been a weaker man, he would have let that distract him. Would have let the sight of her walking, the way her hips swayed from side to side, to distract him.

But Fernando was used to it by now. After the first time she managed to pull him between her sheets, she did what she could to try and pull his attention while he was working. Out and about, Fernando kept it under control. But the moment they were alone, he had her pressed against the wall, lips desperate against her own.

And that was what happened this time. He got her back to the family own, got her into her room, and trapped her against the door, his hands exploring her body.

The body he knew so well by now. He knew every dimple, every curve, every mole like the back of his hand. He knew every inch of her.

And that was wrong. It was so damn wrong. Fernando was forty and she was at least fifteen years his junior. No matter how hard he tried to stay away, he just couldn't.

His forehead was against her own, fingers brushing against her cheek. "Mi amor," he whispered and kissed her once. "Mi corazón," he whispered again and kissed her again.

"Nando," she whispered, fingers moving through his hair before she hooked them over his shoulders.

He held her chin, thumb gently pulling down his bottom lip. A noise was released from her throat, a desperate one that had him chuckling. "I'll take care of you." His hands moved to her hips and he pulled her away from the door, laying her on the bed.

It was wrong, so wrong, but Fernando couldn't stay away.

[callsign-mayhem]

too sweet (part 1)

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female!Reader Word count: 6.4k CW: Use of Y/N, occasional swears

As Natasha's lifelong best friend, you've always known her crew was off-limits, especially one cocky aviator with a killer smile: Jake "Hangman" Seresin. But when you take a writing retreat to sunny San Diego, a break that was supposed to help you escape distractions, you find yourself sharing late-night conversations, beach bonfires, and undeniable chemistry with the one person you've been strictly forbidden to date.

This is a multi-part fic.

As soon as your plane touched down in San Diego, you were switching flight mode off and texting your best friend. It had been almost six months since the last time you saw her, and your patience had worn thin not long after the second week of her being gone. Now, you were practically bursting with excitement. As a result, you’d become one of those annoying people who got up as soon as the seatbelt sign went off, standing in the aisle with your carry-on even though the steps for the plane hadn’t even been brought onto the runway yet. 

Once you eventually got off the aircraft, you ran as fast as possible with a backpack and a carry-on suitcase, not stopping until you reached passport control. Once past that particular hurdle, it was onto baggage claim. Being a full-time writer afforded you much more flexibility and freedom than most other people, especially your best friend. This was why you usually visited her and not the other way around. Since it had been so long since you last spent time together, your ticket to San Diego was one way. It seemed as though Nat was setting up shop in Fighter Town for a while, and with your latest manuscript almost ready to be sent to your editor, you were taking the opportunity for a much-needed change in pace and scenery. 

The airport was busy, and you were swarmed by people from your flight trying to spot their bags on the carousel. This included the screaming set of twins and their dishevelled parents seated two rows behind you. 

They were still screaming, and you were briefly reminded why you didn’t want to have any children yet. Not that there was any chance of that happening, anyway. You’d been single for so long that it was a basically a personality trait at this point. 

When you spotted your suitcase, you ran to meet it and hauled it off the conveyor belt less than gracefully. The arrivals lounge was an assault on your already overloaded senses, and dragging two suitcases wasn’t making it any easier. But when you got closer to the exit, you saw Nat’s black Suburban parked right out front, and all the stress dissipated. 

When you barelled out of the doors and onto the sidewalk, she jumped out of the car with a huge, uncontainable grin. Her hair was freshly cut and styled, and her skin glowed beneath the Californian sun. 

North Island looked good on her. 

Bags be damned, you ran into her arms, almost knocking her over. She still smelled of citrus and vanilla, which was to say that she still smelled like her family home where you’d spent most of your childhood. You’d had a couple of boyfriends in and just after college, but their hugs had never lived up to Natasha’s. There was nothing more comforting to you in the entire world.

‘Lieutenant Trace in the flesh!’ You squeaked. 

‘Y/N Y/L/N, bestselling author. It truly is an honour.’

Reluctantly, you let go so you could take her in. ‘Those FaceTime calls just weren’t cutting it anymore.’ You told her, smiling. ‘You look good, Nat. Better than good.’

‘I think this place agrees with me.’ She replied. ‘You look like you need a holiday.’

‘Wow, thanks.’

She laughed. ‘You know what I mean.’

‘I know.’

She glanced at your luggage with a raised brow. ‘Let’s get what appears to be everything you own in the trunk, and then we’ll get on the road. ‘Kay?’

‘I know it looks like a lot, but you know I like to be prepared.’

You took the smaller case, and she took the bigger one. ‘For what? Moving states?’

‘My ticket is open-ended.’ You explained. ‘Once I get my manuscript in next week, I’ll be free as a bird until my editor is ready to shatter all my hopes and dreams.’

Natasha eyed you somewhat disbelievingly. ‘You’re saying you might be staying a while?’

‘If that’s okay with you, yeah.’

‘Let’s see how long it takes me to get sick of you.’ She jibed.

‘How do you know I won’t get sick of you first?’

‘Because I’m a delight.’

On the way to Nat’s apartment complex, she pointed out landmarks and told you about the latest happenings. You were mostly caught up since you spent every other evening on FaceTime, but it was always different when you caught up in person. The two of you always remembered other details you’d forgotten about. 

The drive from the airport to Nat’s apartment on Island Avenue took just over fifteen minutes, and before you knew it, you were being shown to the guest room. She’d moved in a little over a month ago, after being told she was being stationed in Fighter Town indefinitely along with some of her crew from a super secret mission she’d been involved in. Nat told you more details about her work than she probably should because even if you had someone to tell, you wouldn’t. Your friendship wasn’t like most other female friendships, where you think your secret is safe until it’s not. The two of you trusted one another wholeheartedly because there genuinely wasn’t any reason not to. 

The guest room was as tidy and organised as the rest of the apartment. With Autumn just around the corner, she’d adorned the double bed with pumpkin throw pillows and a dark red teddy blanket you immediately wanted to crawl under. You were thoroughly exhausted, but you knew neither of you would be going to sleep anytime soon.

‘I put my desk in here,’ she told you. ‘Since I knew it would be your room. That way, you can write while I’m on base.’

Even after all these years, things like this still warmed you. ‘Thanks, Natty.’ You said, reverting to your childhood nickname for her. ‘I appreciate it.’

‘You hungry?’

‘Practically wasting away over here.’

‘I thought you might say that. Wanna go out or order in? I can take you to this amazing restaurant I went to with some of my team a few weeks ago. It’s right by the beach.’

‘Sold.’

An hour later, you were sitting in the outside area of a trendy new steakhouse. You were so hungry after your flight that you doubted you’d have noticed if the food had been awful. Nat enjoyed her brisket immensely, so it couldn’t have been bad. 

‘So,’ you said, around a mouthful of food. ‘Tell me more about this new squad. Better than the Black Aces?’

‘They’re so different, they aren’t comparable. But they’re pretty awesome.’

‘Any of them particularly awesome?’ You asked, waggling your eyebrows.

She rolled her eyes playfully. ‘No, no, and no. Even if there were, I wouldn’t do anything about it. I don’t date navy guys.’

‘I still don’t understand that.’

‘I don’t like to shit where I eat,’ she said simply. ‘Or rather, I don’t like to let men shit where I eat since usually they’re the ones doing the shitting.’

You nodded in understanding. ‘Am I gonna get to meet any of the famous Daggers?’ 

‘Yup. Tonight.’

Your stomach dropped. While you were definitely up for meeting them, you were a little nervous, especially since it was happening so soon.

‘Tonight?’ You echoed.

‘Friday nights, we always go to The Hard Deck after work. I’ll come back to the apartment first, change and then we can head over together.’ 

You hoped you were doing a good job of hiding your nerves. Nat would never let you live them down. 

‘So not only am I meeting the famous Dagger Squad, but I’m also gonna experience the highly acclaimed Hard Deck on the same night.’

‘Don’t bother wearing socks, ‘cause they’re gonna be knocked right off.’ Her voice was dripping with sarcasm.

‘The novelty might have worn off for you, but this is big for me. I listen to you talk about these people and that bar day in and day out without understanding. I’m finally getting to put faces to names my best friend doesn’t shut up about. It would be like you stepping into one of my books and meeting all the characters.’

‘Okay, when you put it that way, I understand why you’re excited. But you gotta promise me one thing.’

She was suddenly all serious. ‘Anything.’ You replied earnestly.

‘Do not let Hangman charm you. I’ve already told him you’re off limits, and I’m saying the same to you. He’s bad news.’

You knew all about Hangman from Nat’s stories. There were only a few where he was one of the good guys. As a writer, you were all too familiar with the good girl falls in love with the bad guy trope, and as tantalising as it was to read about, you knew better than to fall for it in real life.

At least, you’d like to think so.

‘You don’t have to worry about that. He sounds like an asshole.’

‘You say this now, but he’s a charmer, and you’re vulnerable.’

You threw a chip at her. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘I mean no offence when I say this, but it’s been a while since you dated anyone, Y/N. I’m not saying you’re naive, but I know he’ll lay it on real thick just to mess with me, and I don’t want you to fall into his trap and get hurt.’

‘You think he’d pretend to hit on me just to get under your skin? This guy sounds even worse than I thought.’

‘You can never be too sure what his intentions are. Safer to assume that he has an ulterior motive.’

‘Well, thanks, Nat. Now I’m really nervous.’

‘You’ll be fine. I’ll be there to yank on his leash if he starts barking too loudly. And Rooster is always looking for an excuse to take him down a peg.’

In true best friend style, Natasha had emptied your suitcase in search of the perfect outfit for you to wear to The Hard Deck. Thankfully, she’d settled on one of your favourites: a black velvet romper with bell sleeves covered in little silver moons and stars. You didn’t have to debate whether to wear your hair up or down because Nat had already decided for you and was almost done curling it. You applied a thin layer of lip gloss in front of her vanity mirror while she worked her magic. You’d gone easy on the makeup since you often felt self-conscious when wearing a lot. 

‘Okay, done.’ She announced, running her fingers through the curls. 

She’d done a great job, better than when you did it yourself.

‘Thanks, Nat.’

‘You’re welcome. You look drop-dead gorgeous.’

In her skinny jeans, white tank and leather jacket, you thought Nat looked like a sexy biker chick, and you told her so. 

‘Anyone would think you’re in love with me.’

‘So what if I am?’

You decided to get an Uber since neither of you wanted to stay sober to drive the other home. You spent the whole journey fretting that the Daggers wouldn’t like you. Maybe they’d think you were boring because you weren’t in the Navy. Perhaps they’d think being a writer wasn’t a real job (it wouldn’t be the first time someone had told you that). Or worse, maybe they’d think you weren’t good enough to be friends with the highly decorated fighter pilot who was your best friend. 

By the time the Uber driver pulled up in front of The Hard Deck, your stomach was tied in knots, and you were gasping for a shot of something strong to give you a confidence boost. Despite your overwhelming sense of anxiety, you were able to appreciate how incredible The Hard Deck was. Adorned with lights and overflowing with all different kinds of people, it was the kind of place that felt almost dreamlike. Music spilled out through the open doors and windows, and the surrounding area thrummed with a near-tangible electric current. 

Natasha looped her arm through yours as you headed into the bar, and you were grateful for the physical and moral support. Inside, it was a hubbub of activity. The wraparound bar—which had at least five people behind it—was surrounded by people. The crowd was at least three people deep; as soon as a bartender finished serving someone, there was another to take their place. You’d done a brief stint as a bartender just after college, and while you’d never worked somewhere quite this busy, you had a pretty good idea of how they were feeling. 

A Bon Jovi song blared from a jukebox you couldn't locate. A large pool table and a mounted dart board stood in the far corner of the bustling bar. This appeared to be where Nat was leading you. A group of aviators—some still in uniform from the day, some not—stood around the pool table. 

Your heart was in the base of your throat. It was beating erratically. 

‘Ready?’ Nat asked, flashing you an encouraging grin.

‘Ready as I’ll ever be.’

When you reached them, those who had been immersed in their game stopped, and the others let their conversations die out. All eyes were on you, and you briefly wondered if something was on your face. 

‘Guys, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is my squad.’ Each one beamed at you as they swarmed around you to shake your hand or hug you. ‘For better or worse.’ Nat said.

The tall, handsome one with the moustache and the Hawaiian shirt you knew to be Rooster playfully poked Nat in the ribs. ‘Hey, you know it’s for better.’

‘Depends on the day.’ She shrugged.

‘Y/N,’ Rooster smirked. ‘I’ve heard a lot about you.’

He had to reach down to wrap his arms around your shoulders. He smelled of sandalwood and sun lotion, and you’d already forgotten Nat’s reasons for not wanting to sleep with her squad members. 

‘All good things, I hope.’

Before Rooster could respond, a strapping blonde guy with a movie-star smile cut in. ‘Better than good,’ he said with a southern drawl. ‘I feel like I’m meeting a celebrity.’

The squad collectively rolled their eyes. ‘This is Hangman.’ Nat sighed. 

He held out his hand, and you took it. ‘Jake Seresin.’

‘Pleasure.’ You replied. 

When you finally worked up the courage to look into his eyes, you saw chaos swimming in the blue depths. He smiled at you as if he knew what colour underwear you had on, as well as all your darkest secrets. He was disarming, and you’d always made a point to steer clear of men like that.

‘Oh, the pleasure’s all mine, darlin’.’

‘Alright, Bagman, that’s enough.’ This voice belonged to one of the shorter guys with a buzzed head and a much nicer vibe. ‘You’re gonna scare her off.’ Instead of hugging you or shaking your hand, he kissed your cheek, and you felt a surprised blush creep across your cheeks. ‘I’m Mickey, callsign Fanboy. Welcome to North Island.’

‘Thanks, Mickey. It’s nice to meet you.’

‘This here is Payback, but you can call him Reuben. I’m his backseater.’

‘Hi,’ you grinned, starting to find your feet and your confidence. ‘I hear you’re quite the pilot.’ 

Reuben glanced at Nat, apparently pleasantly surprised. ‘Damn, you say nice things about us behind our backs?’

‘Not all of you.’ Nat shot a pointed look at Jake. ‘But yeah. Don’t sound so surprised.’ 

Coyote—AKA Javy—was less intimidating than Jake, but you could tell they were privy to something you weren’t. Your mind flicked back to the conversation you’d had with Nat earlier, and you were starting to understand what she meant. Maybe they had some kind of awful bet on who could bed you first. Either way, you planned to be cordial but not engage with them any more than you had to. 

Last but not least, you were introduced to Bob, Nat’s backseater and perhaps the team member she spoke most highly of. You’d been desperate to meet him for months, partly because Nat had told you he had a really funny side to him once he came out of his shell and partly because you wanted to thank him for keeping your best friend alive.

‘Y/N, this is Bob Floyd. My WSO.’

In one hand, he held a half-empty cup of peanuts. The other, he held out to you.

‘Bob, it’s an honour to meet you. Thank you for looking after Natty. I didn’t need to meet you to know that there’s nobody else I’d rather be in the sky with my best friend.’

Bob blinked at you behind his wireframes, dumbfounded by your kind words.

‘Uh, thanks, Y/N. I’m just a Weapons Systems Officer. Phoenix is the hero, not me.’

‘Don’t put yourself down. Your job is just as important, if not more so. I know she won’t mind me saying that.’

‘I agree,’ Nat said. ‘I’ve told you before, Bobby; you gotta give yourself more credit.’

Bob flushed. His eyes remained fixed on his peanuts. ‘Well, thank you. It sure means a lot.’ 

With the initial introductions out of the way, you could relax. Payback and Fanboy headed to the bar to get a round of drinks in while you made yourself comfortable at one of the tall tables. Rooster and Bob joined you and Nat while Coyote and Hangman resumed their game of pool. They’d been playing doubles with Payback and Fanboy, and it was their turn. 

You found yourself staring at Hangman as he leaned over the table and expertly sank three balls—one after the other—into the pockets. Not that you’d ever admit it out loud, but he was gorgeous. Walking, talking Texan Ken dolls weren’t usually your type, but it was impossible to deny Jake’s appeal. Maybe it was because Nat had explicitly told you not to look that you found your eyes wandering back to him, even as Rooster launched into a story about a recent mission. Didn’t something always feel more endearing when you weren’t allowed to do it?

When Payback and Fanboy reappeared, each with a tray of drinks in hand, you could finally refocus your attention. 

‘Tequila shots!’ Fanboy gestured with bravado.

‘And some beers to chase them with.’ Payback finished.

You giggled, reaching for your shot. There was enough for everyone to have two, and you made a mental note to get them both back. Hangman and Coyote sauntered over at the mention of hard liquor. It was difficult to ignore Jake when he came to your side of the table and reached over you for his shot. Was he making a point, or were you hyperaware of him after your warning from Nat?

‘What’re we toasting?’ You asked.

Rooster’s eyes twinkled as he raised his near-overflowing shot glass in your direction. ‘To old friends and new.’

The whole squad echoed his toast and downed their shots. Bob coughed and sputtered, and Fanboy smacked him on the back encouragingly, only making him cough more. Your stomach ached from laughing, and you weren’t even drunk yet. 

One shot of tequila, and you were already wondering if there were any apartments for rent close to North Island. 

As the night progressed and you got tipsier, you found yourself playing some kind of game with Hangman. The rest of the squad seemed totally unaware of it, for which you were incredibly grateful. If Nat or Rooster caught so much as a whiff of attraction between the two of you, you were sure they’d haul your ass home and sit you on the naughty step. You’d only known Bradley for a few hours, but you’d hit it off immediately. You understood why he and Nat were so close. He’d already adopted some kind of brotherly responsibility for you, and apparently—before your arrival—he and Nat had made a pact to protect you from Hangman at all costs. Super dramatic, but you were sure it was warranted. 

Of course, this approach had the opposite effect. You found yourself drawn to him for reasons known only to the almighty. Nat and Bradley had said (not in so many words, but still) ‘fuck around and find out.’

And here you were, fucking around and finding out. 

He was standing at the dart board nursing a whiskey on the rocks. Payback was taking his shot while Fanboy egged him on from the sidelines. It seemed that the two pairs had a mission to thrash each other at various bar games, and you sincerely hoped that Payback and Fanboy won at least one round of something by the end of the night just to see the smug grin wiped off Jake’s pretty face. 

As for the game the two of you were playing… Well, you’d started that. He’d caught you staring at him after the second round of shots, and the look he’d given you in response had been incendiary. More for something to do with your hands and mouth, you’d taken a sip of your cocktail (courtesy of Bobby Floyd) and looked away again. You’d looked up again a little while later and caught him staring. You’d raised your eyebrows, and in response, he took a long drink of his whiskey before mouthing ‘bet.’ Thus, your little drinking game was born, and you hadn’t even had to speak to each other.

Whenever one caught the other staring, the guilty one had to take a drink. 

You were more than tipsy now, so you silently promised not to look at him for a while lest you end up on the floor before 10 pm. 

‘So, Phoenix tells us you’re about to finish another book.’ Bradley said, bringing you back to Earth.

‘Yeah, I’ve just gotta mess around with the ending, and then it’ll be good to go. That is until my editor tears it to shreds.’

‘Did you always want to be a writer?’ Bob asked.

He’d come out of his shell significantly since you walked into The Hard Deck earlier that evening. The two shots had helped since he wasn’t a big drinker. They’d gone right to his head, and his cheeks were stained pink. Bob was sweet and kindhearted and had a knack for making you feel seen and heard in the conversation. You’d never met a man who was so attentive before, and you got the feeling that Nat and Bradley had an agenda, what with the knowing glances they shared whenever you went off on tangents about music and different novels you’d both read. 

Bob was perfect. Bob wouldn’t break your heart. Out of all the guys in The Hard Deck, he was the one who made the most sense to you. 

But Bob didn’t have you shifting in your stool whenever he looked at you as warmth pooled in the bottom of your tummy. 

‘For as long as I can remember, yeah.’ You responded. ‘Most people thought I was insane for choosing a liberal arts major in college. They’re notorious for leading you absolutely nowhere, but I was persistent, and now here I am.’ 

‘Not many people are successful enough to live off their writing, even if they get published.’ Nat added proudly. ‘She’s a one-percenter in the writer world.’

‘You know, I’ve actually read one of your books.’ Bob said, smiling down at his Corona Light, suddenly shy. 

This was the kind of moment you always dreamed about as a kid: meeting someone and finding out they already knew your name because they had a copy of one of your books at home. 

‘Seriously?’ You leaned forward. ‘Which one?’ 

‘Fourth of July.’ 

You were taken aback. Fourth of July wasn’t the book you were best known for, but it had been your favourite to write. It was literary fiction, and few people had the stomach for it. After publishing it, your agent practically forced you to write something on the opposite end of the spectrum, more for sales than anything else. 

‘What did you think?’ 

‘I thought it was extremely provocative. You know the kinds of books you think about for months when you’re finished?’

Your smile was so big, your face ached with it. ‘Yeah, I know the ones you mean. You really think that?’

‘I do.’ 

‘I don’t even know how to respond to that. I’m so happy.’ You gushed. ‘So I’m just gonna buy you another drink.’

Bob chuckled. Nat and Bradley shared another knowing look. ‘You don’t need to do that.’

‘I want to. Besides, it’s my turn to get a round in.’

You floated up to the bar on cloud nine and made the order in such a daze that you didn’t notice Hangman slide up next to you. 

‘I’ll be paying for this round, Penny.’ He drawled. 

Your head snapped up. He still had that shit-eating grin on his face, and you couldn’t decide whether you wanted to slap it or kiss it off. 

‘I can pay. It’s my turn.’ You insisted.

Jake waved you off. ‘You’re the honoured guest.’

‘And it’s my turn.’ You repeated sternly. ‘Plus, I’m buying Bob an extra drink as a thank you.’

Jake recoiled slightly, a bemused grin on his face. ‘For what?’

‘He gave me some great feedback on one of my books. The one I’m the least proud of. Nothing in the world beats that feeling, so I want to thank him.’

‘Trust Bobby to have read your work before knowing who you are. I bet he’s mighty pleased with himself.’ Jake ruminated. ‘He’s not the one trailing behind for once.’

You frowned deeply. ‘That’s not very nice. Bob seems like a great guy. He probably doesn’t seem like it to you because his ego isn’t the size of North Island.’

Jake laughed. ‘And you think mine is?’ 

Penny was smirking to herself as she poured all the drinks, and you had a feeling she’d probably back you up. 

‘I think it’s probably quite close. You and Bob don’t speak the same language, so you think he’s beneath you.’

‘Come on, I don’t think he’s beneath me. You’re making me sound like a dick.’

No, actually, I think you manage that quite well on your own.’ You quipped.

Jake staggered back, clutching his chest, feigning hurt. You laughed despite yourself. His energy was contagious like that.

‘So, are you gonna let me pay for my round?’

‘How about I pay for the round, you just pay for Lieutenant Bookworm. You know, to save your conscience.’ 

‘Fine,’ you said, rolling your eyes. ‘But I’m gonna get the next one. I’ll just wait until you aren’t paying attention.’ 

Jake glanced at your lips so quickly that you would’ve missed it if you’d blinked. 

‘Good luck with that, sweetheart.’ 

You opened your mouth to respond, but no sound came out. He’d disarmed you yet again, and you disliked feeling so helpless. It was almost as if you were at his mercy, and he knew it. Jake Seresin didn’t need any more power than he already had. 

He paid Penny and took the tray of drinks over to the table. You hadn’t ordered any shots because you wanted to remember some of this night, and it was probably a good idea because you could no longer walk in a straight line. Jake went right back to the dart board, and you took your seat at the table.

‘What was that about?’ Nat asked, voice laced with concern.

‘He paid for the round, even though I asked him not to.’ You took Bob’s beers off the tray and set them before him. ‘I got these, though.’

‘Thanks, Y/N.’

Bradley’s eyes were boring holes into Jake’s back. ‘It’s rare for him to do something nice without an ulterior motive.’

‘Well, that’s easy. His ulterior motive is getting in Y/N’s pants.’ Nat growled.

‘Okay,’ you said with a sigh. ‘Let’s change the subject. I’m sick of talking about him already.’

Although Bob didn’t speak as much as everyone else, you felt he noticed more than they did. You could tell he saw right through you. You just hoped he wouldn’t say anything to your best friend. 

You felt truly alive, as if the electrical current surrounding The Hard Deck had been injected directly into your veins. Your first meeting with The Dagger Squad had gone incredibly well, and they’d exceeded your expectations tenfold. It had only been one day, and you already felt like you’d made some friends for life. You were beginning to understand why Nat looked so healthy, why she seemed to be glowing from the inside out, the amazing people, the energy of North Island, the beautiful weather. These things separately were better than any multivitamin, but together? You felt as though you’d drunk some kind of magical elixir that would permit you to live forever. 

You wouldn’t mind living forever if you got to stay here permanently. 

Was it too soon to be thinking this? Did you care? 

Penny had called last orders, but nobody was ready for the night to end. Your exhaustion had worn off long ago, and thankfully, you were experiencing a rather mighty second wind. Somebody had suggested going back to Nat’s for some more drinks. Reuben’s place was the biggest—a three-bed detached house right on the outskirts of North Island—but nobody wanted to Uber that far, so you settled for Nat’s. Her apartment was the second biggest, spanning two stories. You knew she’d received a considerable inheritance a few years ago, and paired with her Navy money, she was well-off. It helped that her finance-managing skills were impeccable. She’d been the one to help you invest and save money from your first book deal when you’d wanted to blow it all on an expensive trip to New Zealand. 

It took two Ubers to get you all to Island Avenue. You carpooled with Nat, Bob, Bradley and Reuben. Mickey pulled the short straw and had to jump in with Jake and Javy. To be fair, they weren’t bad guys; you just knew their type and weren’t accustomed to it. 

Back at Nat’s, everyone was assigned a job. You and Nat set about turning all the fairy lights on, putting more chairs out on the generously sized balcony and finding throw blankets for those who got chilly. Bradley was connecting his phone to the Bluetooth speaker and queuing songs since he insisted he had the authority in that particular department. Bob was hovering, suggesting more songs for him to queue, arguing that he had just as much authority as Bradley did since they had similar taste in music. Reuben and Mickey went through Nat’s drinking/board game selection, picking out a few to keep everyone occupied. Dangerously, Javy and Jake had declared themselves bartenders. On the way back, they’d stopped at an off-license and grabbed a wide selection of booze to add to what Nat already had stocked in her kitchen. They’d set themselves up on the kitchen island and were attempting to make homemade cocktails. 

You and Nat found a moment of solitude in her room when she was searching for some sweats to give Mickey, who was still in his uniform. 

‘So it’s going pretty well, huh?’ She smiled. ‘You like the squad?’ 

‘Hell yeah, I do, they’re a riot.’

She opened her wardrobe door, smirking knowingly. ‘Who’s your favourite?’

‘Don’t have one.’ You said, a little too quickly.

‘I know you’re lying. Just tell me.’

While she rooted around in her wardrobe, you gave it some thought. You didn’t have a favourite because you liked them for different reasons. Bob was genuine and intelligent, and he understood your writing almost as well as you did. Bradley was vibrant and interesting, and he made you feel safe, as if you could be yourself unapologetically. Same with Mickey and Reuben. You liked the fact that Javy was sure of himself without coming across too cocky (mostly).

And as for Jake. Well, you didn’t have the words to describe how you felt about him. 

Nat poked her head out of the walk-wardrobe. ‘Well?’

‘I like them all, Nat. But if I had to choose, it’d be Bob.’

She smiled. ‘I knew it.’ 

‘Knew what?’

‘You have a thing for Floyd. And he has a thing for you.’

‘Jesus Christ, Natty. No. Not like that.’

She’d finally found sweatpants and a T-shirt that she didn’t mind lending to Mickey. When she came out of the wardrobe, she wore a cunning expression.

‘You wouldn’t date him? I think he’s perfect for you.’

How were you supposed to tell her that the reason you wouldn’t date him was because Jake caused a swarm of butterflies in your stomach? How were you supposed to tell her you were crushing on the only guy from her whole crew she’d warned you off? 

There was only one answer to that: you couldn’t. 

‘I didn’t come here to date. Why would I start something here that I can’t finish? I’ll be back in New England before the leaves change.’

‘Everything is always so poetic with you. But you’re right,’ she relented. ‘Bobby is someone you have a quick fling with, anyway. He’s too nice, and I don’t think that’s his thing.’

You gestured as if to say, ‘there you go.’ 

‘Shall we get back out there and see what havoc those two dickheads are wreaking in my kitchen?’

‘Let’s do it.’

It turned out that they were wreaking a lot of havoc. There were open spirit bottles everywhere, and the kitchen island was lined with shots. Not only that, but a selection of cocktails surrounded the bottles. You didn’t know what any of them contained, and honestly, you were scared to ask. 

‘Ladies,’ Javy said. ‘What’ll it be?’

‘Something that’s not gonna put me on my ass after two sips?’ You offered.

He looked at the selection of drinks with a pained expression, and you laughed. 

‘I’m guessing that’s not on the menu?’

‘Er, no…’

‘Okay, give me something sweet.’

Jake stepped around the island and came right up to you. He was so cocksure that it should have been cringe, but it was just incredibly sexy.

‘Here you go, darlin’.’

Natasha and Javy laughed, but you couldn’t stop looking at him. He was drunk, but there wasn’t a hair out of place. If you hadn’t watched him throw drinks back all night, you would think he was sober. 

‘Nice. Does that work on all the girls?’

‘I haven’t tried this one before.’ He winked.

‘I’ll take whatever concoction that has the most vodka in it. No whiskey.’ 

Your swift change of subject didn’t phase him in the slightest. ‘Anything you want.’ 

When he handed you a drink and your hands brushed, you had to glance around to see if Nat noticed. Because if she had, she’d have seen you linger for a moment before you turned around and walked away. 

After a few particularly vicious rounds of Cards Against Humanity that had you all creasing on the floor, you took yourself off to the bathroom. Bob and Javy were talking about heading home. Bradley and Mickey had called dibs on Nat’s huge, L-shaped sofa for the night, and Reuben was trying to convince Nat to let him top-and-tail in her bed. While they were arguing, you headed inside and up the spiral staircase to use your bathroom without worrying about a drunken aviator trying to get in.

Or at least, that had been your plan. 

You reached out to grab the door handle, and someone’s hand closed over your own.

‘Jake?’

You turned around, your back against the closed door, and he moved in front of you, his chest flush against yours. 

‘What’re you doing?’ You breathed.

‘You’ve been givin’ me those come-to-bed eyes all night. I assumed that’s where you were headed.’

He leaned in closer, but not so close that you thought he was going to kiss you. 

‘I thought you were suspiciously quiet when everyone was talking about sleeping arrangements.’

‘Mhm, so you were thinkin’ the same thing?’

You shook your head, but your smile was a dead giveaway. ‘Even if I wanted you to, you couldn’t spend the night here. Nat would crucify both of us.’

He leaned even closer. You could smell the liquor on his lips now. ‘Who says she has to find out?’

‘I can’t do that to her. It’s disrespectful.’

He regarded you thoughtfully. ‘Come on, Y/N. Take that halo off for one night.’ 

Bravely, you nudged his nose with yours. When he tried to kiss you, you pulled back. His expression was a mix between hurt and challenged. 

‘I’ve been warned to stay away from you, in case I get hurt.’

‘Well, that’s funny,’ he responded, closing the space between you. ‘Because I’ve been warned to stay away from you so I don’t wake up and find my balls missing.’

You laughed. ‘Nat threatened to castrate you?’

‘That she did.’

‘I suggest you go home and sleep in your own bed then.’

His lips were basically touching yours now. ‘You don’t really want that.’

You reached up and put a hand on the back of his neck. The first kiss you shared with Jake Seresin was exactly how you imagined it would be. There was no softness, no easing you into it. One minute, you were talking, the next, you were tasting the whiskey sour he’d just finished. He had both hands on either side of your face and was kissing you more intensely than you’d ever been kissed in your entire life. It was raw passion and desire—you could feel how needy he was. 

When he pushed against you, you felt his hard-on through his Levis, and a small whimper escaped your lips. You found yourself grinding against him, hoping for any kind of friction to ease the tightness in your stomach. 

When he pulled away, you followed his mouth and kissed him again, but he stopped you soon after.

‘What was that about me going home and sleeping in my own bed?’

You groaned. ‘Don’t make this hard for me.’

‘You’re the one making things hard, sweetheart.’ He smirked. 

‘I’m gonna go down first, and you’re gonna follow me a couple minutes later. That way, nobody will be suspicious.’

He shook his head in disbelief, but he was grinning like a fool. ‘You’re seriously not gonna let me stay?’ 

‘I told you, it’s disrespectful.’

‘So what, then? That’s all I get?’

You flashed him a devilish grin of your own. ‘For now.’ 

A/N: This is the first part of this series. There shouldn't be more than two or three parts. For some reason, I struggle to write one-shots; it always turns into a series...

[valsverse]

"meet me in the graveyard."

synopsis: despite being a child of hades, you're the light of percy's life. pairing: percy jackson x gn child of hades reader headcanons. word count: 0.7k

• love at first sight, seriously. i like to think the first time you two met was when you saved him from being smashed into smithereens, and from that day on he was completely head over heels.

• before you two established a relationship, percy was constantly trying to find ways to impress you. he'll always go above and beyond when he knows you're watching because he wants to make a good impression!!

after a long day of training and unnecessarily using his powers to catch your eye, he finally decides to go up to you. and at first, he's all confident; approaching you with his chest puffed out, but the second you turn around and make eye contact with him, he's a sputtering mess.

"sooo, um, you- we-" percy stumbles over his words, his face getting red as he tries to think of something to say that wouldn't be an awkward compliment. you stare at him in pure confusion, one eyebrow raised as he struggles to get out any words. "um," percy leans against riptide, trying to play off his embarrassment. "so you have a really nice jawline-"

yeah, he doesn't know what he's doing.

• but when you first start dating, he's absolutely ecstatic!

• as the two of you progressed in your relationship, percy slowly started to discover a side of you that he didn't even know existed before. yes, you're both strong and independent, but you're also able to be vulnerable and sensitive when the situation calls for it. he trusts you with his whole heart and knows you would never try to intentionally hurt him.

• given the reputation your father has, percy's very protective of you. i mean, he knows damn well you're more than capable of fending for yourself, but new campers tend to make rash assumptions solely based on the fact that you're a child of hades.

but percy ALWAYS has your back. he's always quick to defend and set the record straight if anyone dares to speak ill of you, especially in front of new campers who may not know better. he wants to make sure you're not seen as evil-leaning simply because of your lineage.

• percy often steals glances at you while you're training. actually, no — scratch that, he's full-on staring. there's just something so mesmerizing about you, and if he could watch you practice all day, he most definitely would.

sometimes people catch him admiring you, and he'll try to cover it up by saying something like "oh, don't worry, i'm their boyfriend." and then he thinks about it a little and gets all giddy because he's like "i'm THEIR boyfriend!!!!"

(kicking his feet and giggling fr)

• some children of hades have control over precious metals and such. if you happen to specialize in that skill, percy makes the most out of it! he occasionally asks you to summon some smaller ones so he can figure out how to make it into a necklace to wear, or something along those lines.

• percy insists on helping you decorate cabin 13 for special occasions! unfortunately, despite his good intentions, his taste in decoration often contradicts the ominous atmosphere that surrounds hades cabin.

"babe, can we use the blue ones?" percy asks, holding up some blue fairy lights for you to see. "absolutely not." you answer, frowning. "it detracts from the cabin's overall feng shui." "feng who?"

one time during the holidays, percy decided to spruce up your cabin by placing a classic red and white santa hat on top of the skull hanging over the doorway of cabin 13. needless to say, you did not find it as amusing as he did.

• horror movie marathons for sure! you two watched the whole scream franchise in one sitting! unfortunately, percy isn't as adamant about horror as you are, so half of the time he's making excuses to hold you to distract himself from the jumpscares.

"are you scared? here, let me hold you." percy says, pulling you into his chest while his eyes are still glued onto the screen. "i'm not scared, perce. you seem to be though." you laugh, tossing a handful of popcorn into your mouth. "shh, it's okay," he replies, and runs his hand over your hair, except his hand is still shaking from the previous scene. LMFAOO

at the end of the movie, he has the audacity to be all like, "ugh, yeah it wasn't even scary." as if he wasn't clinging onto you moments before.

• all in all, you two are a perfect match!

a/n

i honestly love this dynamic sm :(( i hope i did it justice.

also i am on an absolute ROLL whipping out these percy fics, holy.

okok see u next time!

xx val.

[thegoogoomuckkk]

like a good neighbor -> satoru needs help with a sensitive iusse & you're the only person he can think to ask. . .won't you help him?

“I have this. . .friend,” he says, & you don’t think you’ve ever seen gojo satoru blush. he’s embarrassed, you realize. 

“okay? & you so desperately need my help today & only today because?” 

“I don’t—I don’t know how to say this,” he mumbles.

“spit it out, gojo!” he’s always been like this, selfish with your time, like you have absolutely nothing better to do than listen to him beat around the bush.

what he says next is so fast & so jumbled that you struggle to understand it, but you think he just said “we’re going on a date tomorrow night & I think he’s gonna fuck me & i’ve never taken it up the ass before.” if that wasn’t hysterical coming from the one & only satoru gojo, the strongest sorcerer & most arrogant man alive, his face was enough to take the cake. he’s covered from head to toe in a crimson red blush, turning his head from you, fidgeting with his fingers, humiliated. you’d always thought satoru was an attractive man, you’d have to be blind not to, but it was here & now that you thought he looked not just hot, not just pretty, but fuckable.

you snicker & sneer, relishing in his embarrassment. “& you need my help because?” 

“damn it, don’t make me say it,” he all but whines.

“nuh uh, gojo, there isn’t anything I can do for ya, ‘til you tell me what you want.” 

you & satoru were on a need to know basis. you knew each other’s names, your professions, & the occasional odd fact. your favorite dessert was ice cream from the dairy shop on the corner of your street, his favorite time of day was the middle of the night, your favorite holiday was christmas—you began decorating in october; he had three little friends named megumi, yuji, & nobara. but satoru also knew what kind of second life you lived. the walls between your apartment were thin, & he often laid awake listening to you & whatever conquest you’d scored that night. it was rarely ever the same man, but you seemed to know what the hell you were doing. so it was the most logical decision, he thinks, to ask you, of all people, for help. 

he couldn’t bear embarrassing himself in front of suguru, to tell him that he’s never done this before, & more importantly, that he’s so nervous. 

he’s finding out now, though, that it’s almost as embarrassing to tell you. but that’s okay, you’ll help him out anyway, because you’re such a good neighbor. 

but neighbor isn’t the word he’d use to describe you as you're pushing him down onto your bed with knowing eyes, such a contrast to the anxiety & confusion in his. you were so quick to say yes, you know so well what you’re doing. surely, you’ll be able to fix this little problem for him, right? so then why is he still so nervous?

“is this alright, satoru?” you’d ask innocently, but he knew better; just like suguru probably would, you’re teasing him, & gojo satoru does not like to be teased. he’s whining, head thrown back, eyes rolling when you give a light smack to his thick, leaking cock. “waiting on an answer, ‘toru.”

“yes, it’s a-alright, it’s okay,” he says, but he’s telling himself that more than he’s telling you. 

he’s practically purring as you stroke his cock in your soft, tiny hand, such a contrast to suguru who was always so rough with him, grinding their cocks together, shoving his fingers down gojo’s throat, then his dick next. . .but no, you were sweet, gentle, & maybe that’s really why he came to you. he’d thought you’d be nice to him, show him how to take it up his ass. 

& you do, nodding when he tentatively rolls over on his stomach, whimpering a little at the way your prop his knees up, pushing down on his back, cold lube sliding over his tight asshole. “gotta relax, ‘toru, ‘else it’s gonna hurt, ‘nd I don’t wanna hurt you.” god why are you so nice to him? 

slowly circling his rim with your thumb while you grab the dildo tangled in your sheets, trying to keep him distracted, get him pliant & soft for you. satoru was gonna take it like a champ, you knew already, just from the way he was drooling all over your pillows at the simple sensation of your finger pushing past his tight rim. groaning & whining about how it hurts a little & how it’s so w-weird. but the last thing he’d tell you was to stop, no, gojo had to make you fuck him, had to learn how to be good for suguru. he just knew if suguru got him on his hands & knees, he’d be a whimpering, sobbing mess for him to tease, & he wanted to prevent that if he could (though he probably couldn’t). 

you hummed, slowly massaging your finger along the insides, helping soothe the stretch of the intrusion. “feelin’ good, ‘toru?” what a stupid fucking question, of course he’s feeling good, falling apart on just your one finger, his mind quickly numbing, too distracted between your finger, & your hand stroking up & down his cock. moaning particularly loudly when you pointer finger slides all the way in, hitting him somewhere foreign & oh so pleasurable, & it’s a good thing you’ve got him face down ass up because if he had to look you in the eyes right now, he’d surely die of sheer embarrassment. he can’t contain himself, you’re just so good at this, making him feel so good. you’re just the best neighbor. 

trying to pull away when you stick another finger in, the stretch being just too much, & yet not nearly enough; grinding up into your hand, desperate for anything you’ll give him. he wants you to keep talking to him, distract him from the painful stretch, & mostly he just wants to hear your pretty voice. he wonders the whole time how interested suguru would be in a threesome. 

“gonna put it in now, ‘kay?” you say so sweetly, gently removing your fingers, savoring his broken whine at the loss of being full. 

he recovers relatively quickly, though, nodding even if you can’t see it, mumbling, “yeah, m’ready.” he’s not, but how pathetic would he be if he couldn’t even take a plastic dick, let alone suguru’s third fucking leg? 

after lubing up the toy, & teasing his rim a bit with it, you slowly try pushing it in, but you don’t want to overwhelm him, so your movements are leisurely, calculated. he shoots his hand back to grip your wrist as it breaks past tight muscle, hardly in at all, but how big did you say this thing was? ‘cause it feels big, “t-too big,” he mewls. but he doesn’t need to worry, not with you slowly pulling it out & trying again, trying to get him used to it, pressing soft kisses along the nape of his neck, the sensitive skin of his back, grabbing both his wrists & pinning them to his lower back to force him into taking it, ‘ til he’s crying, & you should feel bad, but he just looks so perfect when he cries. 

“ah-ah, I can’t take it, can’t take it, please,” he’d say, crackling whimpering voice muffled by the fabric, trying to turn his head to face you, but his brain can’t fathom the muscle movement. 

“s’not true, ‘toru, you’re taking it for me, taking it so good up your ass ‘cause you’re a good boy. bet your little boyfriend thinks so too, huh?” his face is getting impossibly hotter & redder. “does he call you that too, ‘toru? good boy?” he takes a while to respond, & you’re not sure if it’s because he’s embarrassed of the answer or if the unrelenting abuse of his prostate is too overwhelming. . .or both. but you see his almost imperceptible nod of ‘yes.’ & that, for some reason, makes him cum; probably fantasizing about geto’s dick in him while he called him a good boy. he’s biting down on his lip hard, trying to mask the wanton moans as he shoots thick cum onto your bed. he cries when you keep pushing the toy back into him over & over, fucking him through his orgasm, & even after that too, stroking his softening cock & he’s just begging you to stop, but what kind of neighbor would you be if you did that? 

you didn’t know suguru, but if gojo was serious, he’d need all the practice he could get. 

strong, dominant men getting fucked & liking it—hngggggggg did you like it? -> here's my masterlist -> want something more? ask me for it

[kurosstuff]

For the event 🦇

Lute x Vampire! Girlfriend!reader where the reader is incredibly famished due to not having any blood to drink for a longggg time.

Lute being the amazing gf she is steps up and offers reader to drink hers! Reader is incredibly hesitant tho cuz she doesn't want to hurt Lute. However she eventually agrees to feed from her. (Maybe gold blood taste different from red). Lute praising her the whole while for being strong and patient even tho she'd been starved. <3

I imagine it would be an incredibly intimate and fluffy moment due to the trust required

Oo this is a really good idea- ima make it q headcanon this time around, though~ I hope you don't mind? +longish drabble

Warning(s): vampire stuff, some angst, reader doesn't take care of themself very well, Lute is soft, the end kinda got dark? Idk

Lute x vampire!f!reader: feeding headcanons

Being a vampire and dating an angel? How the hell did that even happen? Technically speaking, you'd have to have been a demon- who was redeemed EVEN BEFORE lute even considered dating you-

Like. Ofc it's lute she's a bitch to all demons(and deep down she may view your vampire side as the remaining sin of being a demon even now) but. She loves you- so she'll Over look it

Ofc like an amazing lover- she takes care of your feedings ensuring your eating properly- even reminding you at times.

"Little bat" lute grumbled seeing the undrinken hotel of donated blood in your fridge cause she REFUSEF to allow it in the normal one. "Come and eat or no damn cuddles.. or kisses"

Hearing youe running, she hummed, smirking. Worked every time.

Of course there will be times she forgets to remind you.

Never on purpose no- she's a busy woman. She tends to over work(alot) but she tries-

For you she tries to take breaks more often which..isn't much but by her standards it is- its her attempt at it

She'll spend hours if not if neither of you are careful. Days training even more if execution day is coming.

Then she forgets to prepare your drinks- aware you hate it. Hate being reminded of what you are. So she does it instead- she knows you can yourself-

But ita her way of saying she loves you through actions

Execution day sucks. It's exhausting- the aftermath is never fun. Lute was in an even more sour mood which. Didn't help.

She didn't get a kiss nor hug. She tried to remember- did she forget something? A date? A anniversary? A holiday?

Shes done those often. Never on purpose. But her work- her training distracted her

Walking into the house, she blinked. It was quiet. Too quiet. To dark. Sighing, she put her mask on the table, going to the one place you went when upset. Your shared bedroom. On the way she prepared an apology- for.. whatever she must have done

"Babe?"

Nothing but completely silence answered her back. Frowning she walked into your shared room seeing you curled in your shared bed. Shaking. Frowning deeply she moved sitting beside you- quiet as she rubbed your arm

She knew what this meant. She knew that tense movement. Experienced it herself. Knows why you starve yourself. Even more from being a redeemed soul.

God, does she hate it. When you get like this.

"How long?" She spoke softly, watching you shakily lift three fingers. Taking a deep sigh, she hummed "weeks?' A nod. Rubbing your arm, she hummed. "Come on. Let's get you some fresh food. Tugging you onto her lap gently. Knowing talking at this moment hurt you. So she took up most of the talking. Making sure what she asked would be easy to answer back for you. Seeing your confused face made her smirk amused.

"Eat."

Tugging her shirt open, brushing her hair to the side, seeing your expression made her chuckle smirking "babe you drank from me before~ you can again, no?" You shook your head

"Will- will hurt-"

"Dove.. don't talk for me ok? Be a good girl and drink. You need to drink- to feed- I'll stop you if need be ok?" That was all you needed as you sunk your fangs into her. And began to drink.

"That's a good girl~" she praised, trying to hide her wince from you

Everytime without fail as she allows you to feed off her. She knows how you get- how rich her angel blood is. She has been warned to be careful

She is. She takes the precaution that even though you have control of yourself. It isn't always the case- sometimes you attempt to get more then what you need- take more

Your addicted to her blood

And she knows it.

And she knows how down right dangerous that is- but she's a good mate. She'll feed you in anyway to ensure your survival.

And if not yours. Then, any poor soul you decide is your next meal. Your her responsibility just as she is yours

[primaviva]

gingerbread; gwen stacy

featuring. gwen stacy x fem!reader

synopsis. making gingerbread with your girlfriend—gwen stacy.

warnings. none, just fluff! one suggestive joke and intense kiss description

gingerbread—a cherished christmas classic that invokes a symphony of senses, whisking you away to a world of holiday enchantment. as much as you would hate to admit it to someone who is passionate about christmas, the art of constructing a gingerbread house has eluded you. well, perhaps there was a time in your youth when you attempted such a creation, but it never truly became an integral part of your holiday traditions. sure, you delighted in the occasional indulgence of premade gingerbread cookie snacks found at the local market, striving to awaken the spirit of the season. however, those moments were akin to coloring within the lines of gingerbread-themed books from your childhood—a fleeting taste of the magic.

but today, it seemed that this would change.

gwen, surprising a fervent advocate of all things christmas, extended an invitation to her home while her dad was out working late. the purpose? to make gingerbread.

as you stepped into gwen's apartment, a winter wonderland unfolded before you. the air was infused with the delicate fragrance of freshly cut pine, mingling harmoniously with the nostalgic scent of cinnamon and nutmeg. not to mention the little festive touches to the apartment like the wreath that was in your face as you knocked on the door.

in the heart of gwen's kitchen, a tableau of culinary goodness awaited. the ingredients for gingerbread lay scattered across the countertop, more than enough boxes than there should be of premade mix. the scent of ginger mingled with the warmth of the earthy undertones of almond, blending into a fragrant melody that coated the room in an irresistible aroma.

the room buzzed with excitement as you and gwen meticulously measured, combined ingredients, and kneaded the dough. the rhythmic sound of the wooden spoon swirling through the mixture created a rough cadence, accompanied by the gentle clinking of utensils against the mixing bowl.

time seemed to both pass by and stand still at the start of things. with each roll of the pin, the dough spread out, its surface becoming a blank canvas waiting to be shaped into something deliciously beautiful for you to destroyed. gingerbread walls, roofs, windows, and doors emerged from the malleable dough, ready to be transformed into a festive yet architectural masterpiece.

as the premade gingerbread pieces were placed in the oven, the minutes stretched out like taffy, building an air of suspense. the addictive scent of freshly baked gingerbread wafted through the kitchen, enveloping you in its warm embrace.

finally, with a melodious ding, the timer announced the completion of the baking process—a moment that marked the birth of something truly extraordinary.

impatience tinged your words as you exclaimed, "goddamn, i could practically feel my toenails growing in place while waiting for that damn timer!" your frustration evident, you turned your head to the side, seeking any distraction from the anticipation that had reached its peak. with a determined stride, you made your way to the oven, bending down to peer inside. the radiant light within the oven cast a mesmerizing glow upon the smooth, golden-brown texture of the gingerbread, causing your mouth to almost involuntarily salivate.

as you stood there, captivated by the sight before you, gwen playfully observed your expression and couldn't help but chuckle. "take it easy," she teased, joining you by the oven. "even as your girlfriend, i don't think i want to eat gingerbread covered with frosting and... saliva."

her playful remark lightened the moment, allowing a smile to grace your face. the warmth of her presence, coupled with the tantalizing aroma filling the air, intensified the feeling of holiday joy. with a deliberate grace, gwen adorned the oven mitts, preparing to retrieve the gingerbread from its warm haven. as she carefully lifted the tray and placed it on the countertop, the sweet fragrance enveloped the room, an atmosphere of festive delight. it was as if the very essence of christmas had materialized in that humble batch of gingerbread.

"voilà!" gwen declared, her eyes gleaming mischievously. "our gingerbread base is ready for some serious decorating." the prospect of adorning the freshly baked canvas with a burst of color and creativity brought a renewed sense of excitement, infusing the air with a contagious energy.

gwen's eyes sparkled with mischief as she turned to face you, a playful grin spreading across her face. "so, my creative partner in crime, any design in mind for our masterpiece?" her words inviting your imagination to run wild. "i was thinking a haunted gingerbread house, complete with gummy worms and licorice spiders. but i'm open to suggestions, of course." a sigh left your lips, of course spiders.

you couldn't help but wear a sly smirk on your face as you locked eyes with gwen, indulging in the banter between you. "y’know, you sound so corny right now," you jest, a hint of truth lacing your words, eliciting a dry laugh.

gwen couldn't help but laugh at your reaction. "alright, alright, no more cringey names, got it," she replied, feigning seriousness.

sauntering toward the countertop, you leaned on it, peering closely at the freshly baked gingerbread, contemplating the possibilities. "how about we recreate your apartment? a cute lil’ surprise for mister stacy when he returns home."

the thought of transforming the gingerbread canvas into a miniature replica of her own living space definitely excited gwen, even if it was up to debate if she had the skill to execute that.

“i would love for my dad to come home to see a miniature gingerbread version of our apartment,” she put it simply. gwen leaned against the countertop next to you, examining the gingerbread pieces. "we'll need to get creative with the decorations. maybe some pretzel stick furniture, and we can use icing to make tiny portraits of us hanging on the gingerbread walls," she suggested, eyes sparkling with excitement.

gwen walked off to her cabinets and grabbed an array of things ranging from sprinkles, pretzels and cookies, to gumdrops she had stored all the way in the back where you swore you could’ve seen some cobwebs. "so, how's it feel to be in the presence of a master gingerbread architect? i hope you can keep up with my design skills, babe,” gwen smirked playfully, raising an eyebrow at you.

you couldn’t help but let a laugh escape from your throat. “master gingerbread architect? please, if you can’t make your webs stick to the side of a building for more than fifteen seconds i can only imagine how you think you’ll be able to stick two gingerbread walls together with some frosting,” you tease, playfully bumping her hip.

gwen couldn't help but burst into laughter at your remark, pretending to be offended. "hey now, my web-slinging skills may not translate perfectly to gingerbread construction, but i'll have you know i've got a few tricks up my sleeve," she quipped, winking at you.

as she picked up the box of icing, she playfully flicked a bit of it in your direction. "watch out, or i might just stick you to the gingerbread walls too," gwen teased, sticking her tongue out at you.

but in all seriousness, she was grateful for moments like these, where you could just be yourselves and have fun together. as you focused on decorating the gingerbread pieces, she couldn't help but steal glances at you, a soft smile playing on her lips. it was moments like these that made her appreciate how lucky she is to be in your presence.

you chuckled lowly at her little threat. “i think you should watch out then, cus’ who said i wouldn’t enjoy being webbed to the wall by you?” you questioned, making a bold comment to the tall blonde.

you watched as she got together the frosting, mixing it before putting it in baggies. you began copying her movements, helping her mix the already selected holiday colors such as red, green, and white and put them in their respective baggie before cutting the tip of it so it can dispense the frosting.

gwen couldn't help but blush at your daring response, her pale skin transitioning to a pretty rose while feeling a rush of affection toward you. "oh, you’d enjoy it, huh?" she replied, voice laced with amusement. "well, maybe i'll have to put that to the test sometime."

as you worked together to mix the frosting and fill the baggies, she admired the way you effortlessly picked up on the process. it was one of the reasons she loved being with you—you always embraced new challenges with determination and a willingness to learn.

or at least get through those said challenges… if anything.

gwen grabbed a decorative plate, seemingly a fancy traditional plate that looked irish, probably a gift from her grandparents to her dad. once the frosting was ready, she grabbed one of the gingerbread walls and the floor from the parchment and put a dollop to the plate to make it act as glue for stability. then, she began piping a decorative trim along the edges, using the red frosting. gwen delicately squeezed the baggie, letting the smooth, creamy texture glide onto the cookie. the scent of the sugary frosting mixed with the warm gingerbread, creating an intoxicating aroma.

she glanced over at you, noticing your focused expression as you worked on your own piece. "looking good over there," gwen complimented with a grin, playfully nudging your shoulder. “gingerbread, not you, well you are but- i’m talking about your lovely art right there.”

you let out a choked laugh as your hand faltered from piping the frosting down the side of one of the big gingerbread squares for the apartment. it wasn’t too difficult, but for someone who doesn’t do this annually you clearly struggled with some things. “all i've done so far is stick the back wall to the other side that you did,” you state plainly. “if this is art to you then i would hate to hear what you think of picasso.”

gwen couldn't help but let out a boisterous laugh at your self-deprecating comment. "hey, don't sell yourself short! i’m sure picasso would be so proud to see your one singular gingerbread wall," she reassured you, trying to suppress her giggles.

gwen put her piping bag down and walked over to your direction. you felt her chest hit your back as both her arms snaked from behind your waist to your arms. she reached over and gently took your hand, guiding it back to the frosting baggie. "here, let me show you a little trick. just apply a little pressure and let the frosting flow out smoothly all on its own. you got it," she encouraged, setting an example for you.

you tried to pay attention, but it was hard when her smooth yet raspy voice was whispering in your ear, so close you felt her breath tickling your cheek.

you both continued decorating the gingerbread walls, adding intricate details and personal touches. gwen used the white frosting to create a snow-like effect on the roof, while you expertly piped green frosting to resemble a wreath on the front door.

as you worked side by side, the room filled with laughter and the sweet scent of gingerbread and frosting. it was moments like these, where both of you could be silly and enjoy each other's company, that truly made gwen's heart flutter.

you carefully spread a layer of frosting inside the gingerbread house, creating a smooth carpet-like surface. a mischievous grin plays on your lips as an idea takes hold. secretly, you squeeze a dollop of frosting onto your pointer finger, ready to execute your playful plan. "gwen, come see the carpet i did," you command, diverting her attention from the oh so important and intricate task of assembling miniature furniture out of cookies, pretzels, and other random yet surprisingly edible materials. she turns towards you, her gaze fixed on your direction, unsuspecting of what's about to happen.

swiftly, you rise onto the balls of your feet, reaching her height, and with a quick and unexpected motion, you press the frosting onto the tip of her nose, smudging it up towards the bridge. a mischievous giggle escapes your lips as you revel in the spontaneous act, marveling at the frosting adorning gwen's nose.

gwen's eyes widen in surprise, a gasp escaping her lips as her fingertips touch the sticky yet velvety texture of the vibrant green frosting adorning her nose. its hue is so vivid, it could rival even the grinch himself. her eyes widened in mock shock, but a mischievous grin quickly spread across her face. "oh, it's on now!" the blonde exclaimed, playfully narrowing her eyes at you.

without missing a beat, she grabbed a dollop of frosting from the table and quickly retaliated, smearing it on your cheek. "oops, looks like you've got a little something on your face," gwen teased, unable to contain her laughter.

the two of you burst into a fit of giggles, frosting-covered fingers and all. you couldn’t take each other seriously. as the frosting war continued, you both ended up with streaks of frosting on your faces, looking more like abstract art than gingerbread decorators. but it didn't matter—you were having fun, and that's all that truly mattered in that moment.

“hey, i put a lil’ dot on you and not this fat ass blob,” you defend, wiping some of the frosting from the pile she planted on your nose and adding it to her nose. “cute nose job, rudolph. not lookin’ botched at all,” you teased.

gwen couldn't help but laugh at your quick retort, wiping off some of the frosting from her nose and smearing it on your lower jaw. "oh, so you're a critic now, huh?" she playfully responded, a smirk as clear as a snow globe. "well, i'm just gonna add some extra flair to your already sexy nose. rudolph will have nothing on you."

your laughter filled the room as we continued the frosting battle, merrily colorful streaks on each other's faces. no matter how silly or ridiculous you two might look, you were always able to find joy and laughter together.

but amidst the chaos, gwen couldn't help but steal a moment to appreciate your playful spirit and the way your eyes sparkled with mischief. you were truly her partner in crime, and she wouldn't want it any other way. or how she would put it, her “creative partner in gingerbread crime.” well, whatever that means.

the frosting war continued, we eventually ran out of ammunition, leaving you both covered in frosting from head to shoulder. you and your girlfriend stood there, breathless from laughter, and she couldn't resist pulling you into a tight, frosting-covered hug. "you're the best, you know that?" gwen whispered, her voice filled with genuine affection as raspy as it came.

you instinctively step back from the hug, finding yourself nose-deep in gwen's sweater. the thick frosting that had made its way into your nostrils tickles uncomfortably, and you valiantly suppress the urge to let out a loud sneeze. hastily grabbing a napkin, you wipe away the frosting, finally lifting your gaze to meet gwen's as her words register in your mind.

in that moment, clarity dawns upon you, and you realize what she said. the initial distraction of the frosting mishap fades away as you comprehend the deeper meaning behind her innocent words.

“what?” you questioned, urging her to repeat it.

gwen quickly snapped out of her daze, realizing that she had been staring at you. a slight blush crept up on the blonde’s cheeks as she realized that she had been caught. "oh, uh, sorry," gwen stammered, sounding a bit softer than usual. "i was just… admiring how cute you look, even covered in frosting."

a nervous chuckle escapes gwen's lips, a blush creeping across her cheeks as she finds herself feeling more embarrassed than that one time her headphones failed her during class, blaring my chemical romance for an unplanned five seconds. "i guess i got lost in the moment there. but hey, you're always a sight to see, whether you're covered in frosting or not," she stated, trying to play it off like her hands still don’t falter to shake when you make her nervous. gwen reached out and gently wiped a bit of frosting off your cheek with my thumb, her touch lingering for a moment. "you’re my favorite mess," gwen added.

a warmth spreads across your cheeks in response to gwen's comment. "oh, really?" you retort, secretly wanting to hear more from her. however, you quickly regain your composure, reminding yourselves of the task at hand. "enough, we still have shit to do," you interject, trying to steer the focus back to the gingerbread house.

gwen raised an eyebrow at your response, but couldn't help but notice the underlying hint of vulnerability in your tone. “learn to take a compliment,” she comments.

but gwen's soft smile tugs at your heartstrings, drawing you closer to her. she leans in, her gaze fixed on your eyes, as if she's searching for something deeper within you. in a surprising move, she uses her thumb, still adorned with the frosting she had wiped off you, and gently smears it across your lips. her voice carries innocence as she remarks, "looks like you've got a little something."

the touch of gwen's thumb against your lips sends a subtle jolt of electricity through your body, leaving you momentarily breathless.

but as she stepped closer to you, faces mere inches apart, gwen couldn't resist the magnetic pull between you.

as you close the remaining distance between you, gwen's lips meet yours with a gentle, lingering pressure, initiating a tender kiss. the sensation of her lips against yours sends a shiver of delight down your spine. the world around you seems to dissolve into a hazy blur, leaving only the two of you enveloped in a moment of pure connection.

your lips move in perfect synchronization with gwen's, their dance a delicate and intimate rhythm. each brush and caress of her soft lips against yours ignites a cascade of sensations to your skin—subtle yet electrifying. the taste of the frosting lingers on your tongues, a delectable blend of sweetness merging with the warmth of her own unique lip balm, a hint of vanilla intertwined with the minty sweetness.

lost in the tender embrace, you become acutely aware of every detail—the velvety texture of her lips, the way they meet and meld with yours in the most gentle and affectionate manner in which she moves. it's a moment where time stands still, where nothing else matters except the intoxicating closeness and shared intimacy between the two of you.

as you gently pull away from the kiss, your eyes instinctively rise to meet gwen's gaze. her lips, now adorned with a generous coating of green frosting, seem to attract even more of the sticky sweetness due to the presence of her lip balm. a rush of heat floods your cheeks, betraying your flustered state, while gwen smirks knowingly at you. a dry scoff escapes her lips, her eyes fixed unwaveringly on you, clearly surprised by the effect she has on you.

your attention is captivated as gwen's tongue emerges, delicately gliding along her lower lip, collecting the frosting in a deliberate and tantalizing manner. the sight of her tongue ascending to her upper lip, methodically removing the sweet coating, holds you in a mesmerized state. you watch with unwavering focus, afraid to tear your gaze away, as she withdraws her tongue back into her mouth, savoring the taste once more.

gwen, fully aware of the effect her actions have on you, wears an expression of both satisfaction and amusement. it becomes evident that she takes pleasure in being the sole catalyst for such a reaction from you, relishing in the power she holds over your senses.

as gwen finished licking off the frosting from her lips, she let out another low laugh. "mmm, still tastes as good as ever," she commented, her voice tauntingly husky. "you’re right, enough is enough. let’s get back to work, shall we?"

with a playful wink directed your way, gwen swiftly turns around, retrieving a towel and extending it towards you. you accept it, grateful for the gesture, as she grabs another towel for herself. without missing a beat, she proceeds to wipe her face clean, the remnants of frosting vanishing from her lips and leaving behind a pristine canvas. with a determined focus, she resumes her position, ready to dive back into the task at hand.

as you and gwen huddle together, the gingerbread apartment sprawled out before you, a wave of excitement washing over you both. the gingerbread walls, perfectly baked and golden brown, stand tall and sturdy, ready to be transformed. with nimble fingers, you take the lead, carefully applying royal icing along the seams of the rest of the walls, joining them together to form the structure. gwen follows suit, her touch deft and precise, ensuring the stability of the gingerbread apartment. the icing, a pristine white, resembles freshly fallen snow, enhancing the enchanting charm of the scene.

together, you meticulously construct the details—a miniature door, adorned with candy cane stripes, opens up to reveal a sugary haven within. the windows, crafted from translucent sugar sheets, allow glimpses into the home.

inside the gingerbread apartment, you and gwen become masterful decorators, so much so even the hgtv channel overlords would envy you two. tiny tinsel garlands, carefully woven together, drape along the walls, reflecting the glow of imaginary holiday lights. delicate icicle-shaped ornaments, made from crystallized sugar, hang from the ceilings, shimmering with a frosted sparkle. the living room area boasts a miniature christmas tree, painstakingly fashioned from piped green icing and dressed with tiny edible baubles, crafted from old halloween candies. a crackling fireplace, created by using chocolate shavings and red m&ms, casts a false warmth to the empty room. moving into the kitchen, a gingerbread dining table, complete with intricate icing lacework, holds a feast of miniature treats. tiny gingerbread cookies, iced with intricate designs, sit in a bowl, waiting to be enjoyed by you and your girlfriend. plates of assorted candies and chocolates are arranged, slowly dwindling as your hands continue to dig into the bowl for more material.

the two of you continued working on the gingerbread house, your playful banter and teasing gradually fading into a comfortable silence. as you placed the final touches, the gingerbread apartment began to take shape, looking like a cozy little abode.

both of you stepped back, admiring your handiwork. the walls were neatly decorated with frosting trim, the roof had a snowy white frosting coating, and the windows were outlined with colorful candies. it was painfully over-stimulating to the eyes of anyone who hates christmas, but also beautiful.

gwen reached out and took your hand in hers, squeezing it gently. "look at that! we make quite the dynamic duo, don't we?" she remarked, a bit too prideful of her mediocre work. "our gingerbread house is the envy of all gingerbread houses.”

you continue to stare at it, finally realizing why it bothered you. “it’s missing something,” you put simply. “we need to add the little people who will live in this apartment.”

gwen nodded in agreement, leaning a bit onto your shoulder to see from your perspective. "you're right, it needs some little residents to bring it to life," she replied, her mind already racing with ideas.

she reached for the bowl of extra gingerbread dough and started rolling it out. gwen looked over at you, a soft yet evident grin on her face. "how about we make gingerbread versions of ourselves? it'll be like a little homage to us," she suggested, a playful smile tugging at the corners of my lips.

gwen began cutting out the shapes, carefully crafting miniature versions of the both of you with the dough. as she added the details, gwen couldn't help but chuckle at the tiny gingerbread drum set she included for her miniature self.

once the dough was baked and cooled, you set to work on decorating our gingerbread doppelgangers.

as gwen rummages through her cabinets, retrieving an array of icing tubes, a flicker of suspicion tugs at the corners of your mind. the sheer variety she has in her possession leaves you slightly amazed, as well as curious and a bit concerned. nonetheless, you set aside your intrigue and begin piping the features of your gingerbread creation, starting with your own skin tone, meticulously crafting every detail.

glancing over at gwen's side, a knowing smirk graces your lips as you catch a glimpse of her artistic endeavors. with precision and flair, she expertly pipes her iconic half-shaved hairstyle onto the gingerbread figure. the piercing blue eyes she possesses, which sometimes give you the creeps, are replicated with remarkable accuracy. the adorable ensemble of wide-legged jeans, converse shoes, and a shirt adorned with a hand-drawn heart catches your attention. squinting slightly, you can read word for word what it says.

"i heart my girlfriend?" you repeat aloud, surprise evident in your voice.

gwen's laughter rings out, full and infectious. "you took the words out of my mouth," she playfully teases, reveling in the shared sentiment.

unable to resist the warmth that spreads across your face, you steal a glance to your right, discovering that gwen has already crafted a little gingerbread man of her father. turning your attention back to your own mini-you, you work diligently, not wanting to fall behind the swift pace set by your girlfriend.

as you finished and placed the gingerbread versions of yourselves inside the gingerbread house, it truly came to life.

you stepped back, taking in the sight of your creation one final time. "perfect," you declared, a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction filling you.

"it’s so perfect,” gwen adds, mimicking what you said.

you let out an exaggerated eye-roll, your playful annoyance evident. "well, thanks for that," you quip, though your words are tinged with a hint of amusement. but then, as a mischievous thought strikes you, you freeze in mock disbelief, placing your hands dramatically on your head.

in a sarcastically shocked tone, you inquire, "but wait... who will protect them from harm?" your voice drips with playful melodrama, heightening the comedic effect of your question.

slowly turning towards her, you meet her gaze, awaiting her response. with a mischievous grin, she finally breaks her silence.

"i'm so glad you asked," she declares.

in one swift motion, gwen lifts her mini gingerbread representation of herself and playfully makes it leap onto the roof of the gingerbread apartment. as she rotates it, a delightful surprise is revealed—the infamous ghost spider suit, meticulously piped onto the other side down to the mask to the teal ballet slippers.

"don't worry," gwen reassures you with a touch of theatrical flair, "i'll be there to save my damsel in distress."

you try to maintain an unamused expression, your face fighting back a smile as you struggle not to burst into laughter.

gwen couldn't help but break into uncontrollable laughs at your reaction, her shoulders shaking with mirth.

"surprise!" she exclaimed, unable to contain her amusement. "you didn’t think i would add the one and only spider woman of new york? you had to have seen this coming."

gwen playfully made her mini gingerbread ghost spider do a little victory dance on the roof of the gingerbread apartment, reveling in the silliness of it all. but beneath the lightheartedness, there was a hint of truth to her words.

she walked over to you, wrapping her arms around your waist, laughter subsiding into a warm smile. "but y’know, i don't need a superhero suit to be your hero," she whispered.

gwen couldn't help but lean in again, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, the taste of frosting still lingering.

both of you erupted into laughter, unable to contain your amusement at gwen's joke. the joyful sound filled the room until it was cut short as the door knob turned and the door abruptly swung open, revealing gwen's father returning home from his shift at the station.

"how's it going, girls..." his voice trailed off, his steps slowing as he took in the unexpected scene before him.

the air was thick with the scent of frosting, and the room bore witness to a delightful chaos of flour, candies, and scattered decorations. but amidst the mess, the most prominent sight was your meticulously crafted miniature replica of the apartment.

you both froze in place as her dad's voice filled the room, a mix of embarrassment and panic coursing through your girlfriend's veins. she turned to face him, cheeks burning with a bright shade of red she usually rocked when embarrassed. "uh... hey, dad," gwen stammered, trying to sound casual despite the chaos surrounding you both.

gwen quickly glanced at you, hoping to find some solace in the situation, but it seemed like you were just as caught off guard as her. she could practically hear the gears turning in her dad's head as he tried to make sense of the scene before him.

before he could say anything, gwen took a deep breath and mustered up all the confidence she could. "surprise, dad! we made a gingerbread apartment!" she blurted out, gesturing towards your creation. "and, uh, we may have gotten a little carried away with the frosting and...stuff.”

“stuff?” george repeated, stepping closer to the counter to get an even better look at the creation. you could see her dad's expression soften as he took in the sight, his lips twitching with the hint of a smile. "well, it certainly looks like you two had a blast," he chuckled, shaking his head. "just make sure to clean up after yourselves, alright?"

in perfect synchrony, your voices blend seamlessly as you both respond simultaneously with the words "of course, mr. stacy" and "yes, dad.”

relief washed over you both as you realized her dad wasn't angry or upset. he understood that sometimes you both could get a little carried away with our antics. you both nodded vigorously, already planning on how to tackle the mess.

as her dad left the kitchen, she turned to you with a sheepish smile. "well, that could have gone worse," gwen affirmed, relief evident in the way her chest exhaled. "looks like we'll have a lot of cleaning up to do, huh?"

“a lot seems like an oversimplification of it,” you groan, looking around at the absolute mess you both made of the kitchen. “and here i thought we was finally gonna eat the damn thing”

gwen grabbed a nearby towel and started wiping the frosting off the table, motioning for you to join her. "but you know what they say, babe. teamwork makes the dream work," she added, causing you to instinctually roll your eyes yet again.

as you diligently sweep the floor, meticulously wash down the counters, and even kneel down to scrub away any lingering evidence of your reckless baking, your eyes continue to wander back to the oh so enchanting gingerbread house. its intricate details and sugary allure beckon you, tempting your senses to just skip the cleaning and go straight to dessert. from a distance, gwen chuckles playfully as she attentively wipes down the inside of the stove.

"ahem," she interrupts. "i must kindly request that you refrain from placing your little grimy hands on our masterpiece," gwen mockingly asserts.

she pauses, allowing a moment for her words to sink in. "please, let it exist in its full glory for at least thirty more minutes," she pleads, a hint of jest coloring her voice. "or, if you can't resist, at least capture its beauty on your phone before you rip it apart."

a deep sigh escaped from your lips as you surrender to your girlfriend, continuing to guide the broom across the floor.

- comments and reblogs are appreciated!

[ghulehunknown]

Mountain x AFAB Reader

NSFW — MDNI

Summary: You and Mountain take a break from your duties to have a little fun in his room.

CW/Tags: sex toy use, tail fucking, masturbation, unprotected sex (P in V and anal), double penetration

Word Count: 2.4K

“You bought how many toys, Mounty?”

“Um, just a few.”

“It looks like a lot.”

“Yes, well - Santa came early.” You stared blankly at him as he shrugged. “I didn’t know what to get so I just got the ones that I dunno, looked the best and had good reviews?”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Well I guess you get to choose which one you want.”

“Ah, okay. Well this one here also goes up my ass. Which might be kinda nice. Um okay, these two vibrate, but one has a remote…” He flicked his eyes up to yours. “Uhh. And one of those extends down to my taint, I think? Oh, that’s the one Copia suggested. But it should feel nice for you too, you know, if we - yeah. This one is just a silicone dildo. Oh, and this one goes over my balls.”

“The vibrating ones sound nice,” you said, nodding.

“I can’t choose. What if I just…I dunno, use them all?”

“All of them?” you asked incredulously. “Think you can handle that?”

“I guess it’s time for me to be a ho ho ho,” he remarked with a small smile. You couldn’t help but laugh at his silly joke. He never failed to put a smile on your face. You supposed that was why he was your favorite.

~

You looked back on the events from the days prior that led you into his bedroom for this very exchange. You were making Secret Satan cards for the children’s hospital in the library, making out with each other in between cards, desperately trying not to make any noise while the other Siblings were working or studying - and failing, miserably. He caressed your body with his tail, completely taking you by surprise.

You had made a one-off comment, without even thinking. “Damn, you fuck with that thing too?”

“Yeah actually I do,” he replied, his face stoic but eyes twinkling.

“Hm, I’d like to see that,” you said - again, what were you thinking? This was insane. Plus, he was one of Cardinal Copia’s head ghouls…you really couldn’t afford to distract him. But the holidays were here, which meant the band was getting a lengthy and much needed break. So maybe this was your chance at giving into your desires.

You finished up the cards, stacking them neatly in a pile. You were supposed to be helping the Siblings decorate and Mountain was supposed to meet the other ghouls in the mess hall before Mass. But…you had more important matters to attend to. You had agreed, since this would be your first time with a ghoul and adding a tail in the mix, that he should try a new experience too.

You walked together down the hallway towards the Ghoul dormitories, arms linked as you people watched. There were multiple Siblings hanging up garlands and lights along the corridors and you even spotted Papa Terzo terrorizing some young Sisters of Sin.

“Jingle Balls, suck my balls, make my chimney rise. Oh what fun it is to cum on my amore’s thighs,” he sang, draping tinsel around one’s neck and dangling some mistletoe in another’s face.

“…and I heard Satan’s hells bells on the rooftop, I swear it, I did!” you heard Nihil say to Imperator who merely said “Of course, Papa,” as she led him down the hall towards the chapel.

Finally, you made your way past the hustle and bustle of the busy Ministry hallways to the Ghoul dorms. As one of the top Clergy member’s head ghouls, Mountain actually had his own room. But he shared a wall with Swiss and Dew on either side, who would tease him relentlessly if they heard any goings on in the night.

So you opted for the middle of the evening, when everyone was likely to be at Mass. And here you were, your very first dick appointment with a ghoul.

You both kneeled in front of each other in his bed, and leaned into kiss one another, his arms holding onto yours and his tail wrapping around your thigh.

Fuck, maybe being with a ghoul would be better…it was almost like being held by three hands.

The tail was surprisingly soft, not sharp at the end even though the arrowhead tip looked pointy. It approached you just as softly as Mountain wanted, and you knew he could be just as rough as he wanted to be too.

You ran your hands through his hair, his short dark locks tickling your fingertips. His kiss was passionate, deep. His lips were soft and inviting.

He gingerly moved his tail up your legs, in between them, and slowly slipped the tip between your labia. You inhaled sharply as the fleshy bit met your sensitive bud, pressing on it almost like a button.

“Fuck!” you exclaimed.

He paused, pulling his tail sway slightly. “You okay?” he said, holding your face in his hands.

“Yeah, I - yeah, no - god, it’s just so…fuck, it feels amazing. Please, do it again.”

“My pleasure.” He re-entered, maneuvering around your folds and finding your slick pooled near your entrance. He poked around, gathering your arousal and sliding it around, back up to your clit and focusing there. “You’re so wet already. Good girl,” he purred. His cock twitched against your leg, bobbing up and down as he slowly grinded against you.

“Should we put a cock ring on you?” you whispered breathlessly, smiling as you nodded towards the bedside table.

Carefully, you helped him put the vibrating ring on. He spread lube on it and his whole member while you warmed some up in your hands and spread it along his perineum.

“Mmm,” he moaned quietly at your touch, closing his eyes.

You clicked the toy to its lowest vibration setting.

“Oh, god! Shit, they weren’t kidding! Ahhh. This is, oh fuck, wow!” His hand flew to his cock, which was bobbing up and down involuntarily.

“And that’s just the first setting. I’m guessing the other toys are a no-go?” you asked, hovering over him still, straddling his thigh.

He let out a sound that didn’t sound too convincing. “Yeeeeah…? Um, this is fine. Actually -” He clicked the vibrator off and handed you the remote for it. “When it looks like I need it.”

“I’ll tease you with it,” you said, trailing your hand along his balls and up his shaft.

“You better not,” he said, biting at your nose and missing as you pulled your head back in time. “All right. First time getting tail fucked. Ready?”

You rolled your eyes and pretended to punch him in the chest. “Yes, I’m ready.” How much different could it be, really? “I’m more concerned for you. You’ve never used a cock ring before, let alone a vibe,” you said, widening your eyes.

“We’ll be okay,” he said. Something in the soothing way he spoke, ugh you could just melt into him.

He leaned back against the headboard, his arm bent behind his head to prop himself up. “Ahhh,” he uttered, hissing, guiding his hand over yours stroking his cock. “Sssoo good.”

He looked you in the eyes as he touched himself, bringing his tail in between your legs again, pushing past your folds this time and going straight for your wet core.

You leaned back, propping yourself up with your hands behind you, moaning as he entered you, tossing your head back as your neck went slack. You straddled his waist, almost like you were scissoring.

You watched his tail slide in and out of you repeatedly, moving in a wave-like pattern with a dexterity that a finger or a cock couldn’t provide.

Your body relaxed and you slid onto your back, staring at the ceiling. Finally, the tip of his tail found your g-spot, and as you shuddered against his legs and let out a guttural sound you didn’t even know you could make, he made an “ah-ha!” sound and you could feel him add more pressure to your spot. All the muscles in his tail flexed, going tap tap tap along your walls. You clenched around him.

“Fuck, you’re so responsive,” he said, letting out an amused chuckle. “You’re fun.”

You shook yourself out of a trance-like state, almost entirely forgetting he was there. You forgot he was watching you like you were his own little porno, touching himself to the vision of you before him.

You leaned against his leg, resting your head by his knee. You lazily tickled along his thighs, in between his legs, caressing him, and looking into his eyes as you kissed his inner thigh. You shifted more on your back, arching it, resting one leg on his shoulder so his tail could go deeper inside you. He held onto your ankle by his shoulder, kissing it.

His tail flicked in and out of you, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. He slipped out of you and up to your clit, massaging it with the tip.

“Oh fuck!” you exclaimed. He tapped it against you in rapid succession - taptaptaptaptaptap - fucking hell! It had to be the musician in him, the quick and agile reflexes. He rubbed the upper part of his tail against your length, before flicking the arrowhead against your clit repeatedly. “Mounty, I’m going to cum! Fuck!!”

He held onto your leg, caressing it, while stroking himself with his other hand. He picked one motion and stuck with it - a firm, but gentle massage on your clit with his tailtip.

Your whole body quivered, your orgasm spilling over. You moaned and clutched onto his leg, biting into his skin to muffle the utterly pathetic moans you know would be coming out of your mouth.

“Ow, shit!” he exclaimed but you could barely hear him.

You bucked your hips against his tail to ride out the last smaller waves of your climax, before settling down again. He retracted his tail from between your legs, and you were left staring at the ceiling for a moment before hearing your name being called over and over again.

“Mmm?” you muttered. “Oh, sorry for biting you.”

He laughed. “It’s okay. I’m just glad you were enjoying yourself.”

You nodded feebly, feeling a little pathetic, but utterly blissed out.

“Think you have one more round in you?”

“Mmm,” you mumbled, not even giving an answer.

He patted the mattress beside him. “C’mere.” He pulled you back up to your knees, which were trembling, between his legs. He held your chin in his hand and whispered, “You wanna know what it’s really like to get fucked?” You nodded in his palm. “Good girl.”

You straddled his waist, hovering over his still erect cock.

“Did you want to use protection?” he asked, leaning over to his drawer to reach inside for some condoms. You shook your head. “You sure?”

You nodded and said, “Yes. Please Mountain, please just fuck me.”

He handed you the ring vibrator remote, but spoke before fully relinquishing it to you. “You hold great power in your hands. Use it well.”

Fucking nerd. You laughed at his corny ass joke and nodded, saying, “Yes sir,” in a fake serious voice.

He leaned over for the lube bottle and spread some all over his hands, covering his tail with it then circling your asshole, getting it nice and wet. You draped your arms over his shoulders as he took your waist in his hands, guiding you over his cock, lining it up with your entrance, then sinking you down onto his lap.

Fuck, he felt so good. It was incredible. And very different from the tail. His cock was firmer, building a different kind of pressure but every bit as pleasurable. You both moaned as you sank slowly on him. You moved your hips up and down, already so tired from before, and starting to falter.

His tail wrapped around your ass before teasing and prodding around it, finally slipping in. The feeling, while out of this world, was incredibly overwhelming. You fell down on his cock with zero grace, shuddering and breathing loudly, moaning every few breaths.

“Mmm!” he groaned, grimacing. He said your name through gritted teeth.

“Oh fuck I’m sorry,” you said.

“It’s okay, it takes a lot more than your beautiful ass to hurt me,” he said with a smile, kissing your lips sweetly while giving your rear a smack. “Mm? Everything okay?”

“I can’t, Mounty, I’m sorry. I can’t do it.”

With zero hesitation, he removed his tail from your rear end and started to pull himself out of your entrance.

“No, no, fuck, please that feels so good. I just can’t, my legs are fucking jello. I need you to fuck me.”

“I can do that,” he said warmly. He picked you up, his strong hands grasping your waist as he slammed you up and down on his cock. He pummeled into you from below. “Just relax, I got this.”

“Ahhh, fuck!” you wailed, his tail entering your ass once more, this time without teasing the invitation but instead thrusting in with more force. You let your body slack against his, letting him do all the work.

“Remember your very important job?” he said, eyeing the remote that fell out of your hand.

You nodded, tears in your eyes from the intense sensations ripping through your body. You clicked the button, feeling the buzz of the ring on his cock rub against your clit everytime you fell back down on him. You bared down, grinding against the ring and rubbing yourself along his pubic bone. You clicked the next button, heightening the sensation for you both.

“Oh god - I’m not gonna last,” he grunted. “I’m going to cum. Is it okay if I finish inside you?”

You nodded. “Yes,” you said breathlessly.

“You sure? Last chance before I blow.”

“Stop being so polite and just fucking cum inside me!” you shouted.

“Christ, okay!” He groaned as he continued to fuck into you, jerking his hips forward as he shot warm semen inside you, spilling out. He stopped, still holding onto you, burying his face in your chest, breathing heavily. You sat on his cock, the buzz of the cock ring now sitting against your clit. From that and his tail still prodding away at your ass, you came again just a few seconds after him.

“See,” you began, breathing hard and climbing up to him. “When you asked if I wanted to know what it’s really like to get fucked, I swear I thought you were going to use your drumsticks.”

“The thought crossed my mind. So how was it? Any different? Just as good…better?”

“Yeah…like a really wiggly dick,” you answered truthfully.

He laughed boisterously at you. “I always appreciate your candor.”

[shaunamilfman]

'tis the damn season

Summary: “You hadn’t seen Nat since the two of you screamed at each other outside Lottie Matthews graduation party, but you can’t deny that you’ve missed her dearly. Long before she was your girlfriend she was your best friend, and when you're given the chance to hang out with her while you're home from college for the holidays you jump at the opportunity no matter how unique the circumstances. When the two of you have to work together to solve a surprising mystery, maybe a few truths about what really went down between you will be revealed along the way.”

December 23rd, 1996

You’ve been home from college for a grand total of 10 days before they’ve started to run together. You’ve been drifting in and out of sleep on the couch for the last few hours, Christmas movies playing quietly in the background. You're just on the edge of sleep when your mom walks up to shake you awake. You groan softly as you bury your head further into the cushion, but get up quick enough to give you a headrush when your mom tells you someone’s calling for you. Thank God, You think. You were dying of boredom. You’ve seen a lot of your high school friends since you’ve been back, but they all remind you of her. You still can’t gather the nerve to call the one you really want to talk to, so you're more than willing to accept the distraction the phone call provides.

You grab the receiver from the table and lean lazily against the wall as you answer. “Hey.”

“Hey,” You hear a familiar voice say.

“Lottie!” You greet happily, twisting the cord aimlessly around your finger as you speak. “Do you want to hang out later? I know we just saw each other the other day b-”

“I think someone's been following me,” Lottie interrupts quickly, sounding noticeably anxious. Your eyes widen slightly in surprise as you immediately straighten up. “Can you come get me? I don't want to be alone.” She asks pleadingly. 

“Absolutely,” You promise immediately. “Just let me get changed and I’ll be right there.” You exchange a quick goodbye as Lottie seems obviously distracted as you run to your room to change. 

What the fuck is happening? You wonder as you hurry out to your car.

You get a bad feeling as you drive to her house, but you do your best to ignore it as you break almost every traffic law known to man on the drive there. It’s ominously quiet as you pull up, her family home seeming somehow more imposing than usual. You shut the door of your car as you start walking up the driveway, only to be interrupted by a voice calling out your name. 

“Y/N?” Nat calls out in disbelief. You whirl around in surprise as you watch her standing at the base of the driveway. You bury your hands in your pockets to hide the way they shake with your nervousness. You weren’t prepared to see her today, not that you thought you ever would be. You exhale shakily as you look her up and down. She looks just as good as always, maybe even better than usual. Your eyes glance down at her nails, noticing their unusually bare state. You barely remember a time when they weren’t painted black, but maybe all things change over time.

She seems annoyed to see you, making you grin slightly at the familiar sight even if it’s never been directed in your direction before. You knew Nat was just as nervous to see you as you were to see her. You think you might know Nat better than you know yourself, or you did at one point. Your smile fades at the thought.

“What are you doing here?” You both ask at once. You laugh softly as you look down, catching the way Nat kicks nervously at the ground. The familiar sight of her boots fills you with confidence as you look back up at her.

“Lottie called me. Said someone was following her?” You say. Nat scoffs, raising a hand to run it messily through her hair.

“Said the same shit to me,” Nat complains. You glance up at Lottie’s house, suddenly getting suspicious. Lottie’s tried more than once to convince the two of you to start speaking again after you broke up, but her pleas always fell on deaf ears. You knew it must be awkward to be stuck in the middle of the two of you, but as much as you felt for Lottie’s predicament you thought manipulating you like this was too fucking far. Nat gives you a wry look as she follows your gaze, rolling her eyes as she turns and starts walking down the street.

“You're not going to make sure?” You ask.

Nat huffs. “It’s obvious what happened, isn’t it? Lottie not minding her own fucking business.”

You stare up at the house a little unsurely. “That doesn’t sound like Lottie.” You say, unable to stifle your concern. You and Nat catch each other's gaze for the first time in months, and you think you might miss her more 10 feet away from her than you ever have before. You suspect Nat feels the same as she quickly breaks your eye contact, looking uncharacteristically shy as she scuffs her boot against the ground.

“Yeah, well people change don’t they.” She accuses pointedly. You scoff, storming back up to your car. You weren’t sure what crawled up Nat’s ass all those months ago, but it's certainly still there.

“Go fuck yourself, Natty.” You jeer, throwing the door of your car open. You climb back in as you forget about whatever Lottie thought she was pulling as you turn your anger at Nat instead. You slam the door shut, resting your head against the steering wheel. You exhale slowly as you try to calm down. Nat’s always been able to get to you like this, even when no one else could. It’s one of the things you loved about her. Love about her, you admit even if only in the privacy of your own head.

You stare at her in the side mirror as she stands in the same place you left her in. She looks strangely guilty, but you know better than to expect an apology from her. Nat almost never apologized to anyone even if she thought she should, prideful to a fault. You used to be the one exception but you won't hold your breath anymore. You sigh quietly as you back out of the driveway around Nat. You roll your window down next to her as she stares expressionlessly at you. “Do you need a ride home?” She pauses for a second as she considers it, but slowly shakes her head. You nod easily, not bothering to fight her against it as you drive down the street. 

You don’t look back, no matter how much you want to. You miss the way she watches you all the way down the street; The way she watches you until you finally turn off the street, disappearing from view.

…

September 7th, 1986

Even now you remember how upset you were when your dad up and moved your entire family across the country right before you started the third grade. To New Jersey of all places. You weren’t really sure why moving to New Jersey was a bad thing, but your best friend Kaitlin had told you that her mother said it was. So in your mind, there was no place on Earth worse than New Jersey if even your best friend thought so. Thinking about your best friend only made you angrier knowing you wouldn’t get to see her again.

You were brooding the whole way to your desk, righteously angry in the way only an eight-year-old could be when you caught curious eyes looking up at you. You returned her curious look even as you moodily took your seat. There was something about her that caught your eye even then. You didn’t exchange a single word but you still felt a strange sense of comradery with her. You stormed off during recess to go angrily kick at the tree, deciding that that was a far better use of your time than sitting with someone from stupid New Jersey.

You're too far away to hear it at first, but it catches your attention as the catcalling gets louder. You see a couple kids surrounding your desk mate, obviously making fun of her. You weren’t sure what ‘trailer trash’ meant, but it was obvious by the look on her face that she knew. You weren’t sure even now what caused you to storm over there and grab the ringleader by the back of the shirt and whirl him around. Maybe you were angry and he just happened to be there, or maybe you knew even then how important Nat would be to you. You slammed your little fist into his cheek, sending him sprawling to the ground in surprise. 

He starts crying loudly, immediately garnering the attention of your teacher who starts walking over from across the playground. You stare down at your hand in surprise: You’d never been particularly violent before and hadn’t realized it was going to hurt your hand this much. A pale hand reaches out and grabs you, turning your wrist over so she can see your red knuckles. She grins toothily up at you, her grin slightly crooked. “I’m Nat.” She says.

“Y/N.” You say, a little teary-eyed from the pain. You smile back weakly as your teacher drags you away from them and to the office. You don’t get in nearly as much trouble as you should considering it’s your first day, but you certainly wouldn’t complain. You get sent back just in time for lunch, looking around unsurely until you see Nat waving you over. You practically skip over to take your seat next to her. You talk for the rest of lunch and hold hands on the way back to class. From that moment on you were inseparable. 

Maybe New Jersey wouldn't be as bad as Kaitlin said.

…

December 24th, 1996. 

You stare guiltily down at the phone as you get Lottie’s answering machine for the third time in a row. You were positive that Lottie was just setting you and Nat up, but the longer she went without calling you back the more worried you became. Certainly, it wouldn’t hurt if you just stopped by just in case, right? You set the phone back down on the receiver as you exhale shakily, unable to calm your racing heart. You try to shake it off as you walk out to your car Maybe you were less sure about Lottie being okay than you thought. You would just stop by her house and yell at her a bit, and then you could guilt her into watching your favorite movie and everything would be just fine. Still, your hands shake the entire drive there.

You walk purposely up the drive, pulling your jacket tighter around you in an effort to fight the cold. You knock firmly on Lottie’s door as you shiver on the porch. The longer you go without an answer the more frantic you knock until you're banging your fists against Lottie’s door. “Y/N!” Nat calls out, making you whirl around in surprise. You don’t even want to imagine what you look like right now, how wild and crazed your expression must look, as you quickly walk towards Nat.

“Have you…” You both start, trailing off as you realize Nat hasn’t spoken to Lottie either.

“I’ve been banging on her door for the last five minutes and she hasn’t answered.” You say nervously, glancing back at Lottie’s empty-looking house. You look at Nat in disbelief as she reaches around you to try the door handle, finding it locked. “If only I would have thought of that.” You snark. Nat shrugs, holding her hands up placatingly as she spins around and starts walking around the side of the house. 

You reluctantly walk after her, watching curiously as she tries all of the ground-floor windows. You end up back at the front door after fruitlessly trying every window and the backdoor. You sigh as you start looking around for a fake-looking rock or something. You catch Nat giving you a curious look out of the corner of your eye. “Maybe they have one of those hidden keys or whatever?” You suggest, squatting down to look closer at the welcome mat.

“Oh shit, you’re right,” Nat says wryly. “I found it.” You grin widely as you stand back up, backing up so she can unlock the door. Your eyes widen in horror as Nat smashes the glass of the front door with a heavy-looking rock she found on the ground. You stare down at the rock on the floor of Lottie’s living room in disbelief, slowly turning your head to look at Nat. Nat shrugs, looking proud of her little joke, as she carefully reaches through the newly installed hole in the door to unlock it from the inside. The two of you step over broken glass as you trudge your way up the stairs, heart jumping further and further up your throat the longer your presence goes without answer.

You step into Lottie’s room behind Nat, finding it just as empty as the rest of the house. “Maybe she just went out?” Nat suggests, seeming as if she doesn’t believe it herself.

“She always gives her driver Christmas off.” You say anxiously

“Maybe she walked?”

“Without her shoes?” You gesture to Lottie’s favorite pair of shoes lying by the door. “Without her purse?”

Nat nods stiffly as she dumps Lottie’s purse out on the bed, riffling through the contents hoping to find something indicating her location. You exit Lottie’s room and check the rest of her house as quickly as you can, still finding no sign of her. You catch Nat waiting for you outside of the room, staring anxiously at you as you shake your head. The lack of Lottie’s presence combined with the panicked phone call you received the other day paints a disturbing picture. Judging by the look of concern on Nat’s face you can tell she feels the same.

You quickly make your way back downstairs, making a beeline for the phone as you race to call the police. You tell the story to the officer, taking great care to leave the breaking and entering out much to Nat’s quiet amusement. There’s a long moment of silence after you finish and you hear the officer take in a shaky breath as he says, “Are you sure she didn’t just run away? She’s an adult, you know.” You scoff, immediately drawing Nat’s attention as she leans in closer trying to listen in.

“Lottie wouldn’t just run away like that, especially after that phone call she made.” You immediately refute, not even humoring the idea. Nat starts to nod in agreement, wincing halfway through as she realizes he can’t actually see her.

“Look.” He says, voice sounding annoyed. “There’s nothing we can do until she's gone 48 hours, and you're going to have a hell of a time getting someone to come out there on Christmas to look for her.” You’re almost positive he had more to say, but you slam the phone back down on the receiver so hard you're surprised it didn’t crack. You look over at Nat teary-eyed as you try pointlessly to blink away your tears. She instinctively draws you into her arms, wrapping them tightly around you just like she always has. You freeze in her arms, not having the luxury of muscle memory to explain it away. You bury your head in her shoulder anyway, soaking up any comfort offered to you in your moment of need.

Nat tenses up as she becomes aware of her position, but she still holds you tightly until you get yourself calm again. You clear your throat as you pull away from her, wiping the lingering tears away with your hand. Nat shifts her weight from foot to foot as she looks anywhere in the room but directly at you. You can’t help but laugh at the pure awkwardness of the situation, and Nat quickly joins you. When your laughter finally dies off the two of you share a look as you seem to come to a mutual agreement. If they wouldn’t look for Lottie, it seems that you’d have to do it yourselves.

…

December 27th, 1992

You’d rushed your mom into going to pick Nat up the second your extended family fucked back off to their own houses, feeling like you were going through withdrawal from not seeing your best friend for so long. Nat had come running down the street to meet you, equally as excited to see you. She’s been enraptured by your new gameboy and you were all too happy to let her play around with it. Nat lies back on your bed focusing intently as she frantically presses buttons. You sit next to her watching fondly as she gets her ass kicked at Tetris again. “Fuck!” She curses, a moody look on her face as she sets it down on the nightstand. Your face twitches in amusement trying desperately not to laugh, but Nat gives you a dirty look anyway as she crosses her arms over her chest.

You reach over her to grab it off the nightstand, giving her a smug look as you turn it back on. “I’ll show you a master at work.” You tease. Nat scoffs but dutifully looks over your shoulder as you play. Her mood gets more and more sour the longer you play as you blow her score out of the water. She puts her hand on your leg to support her weight as she leans closer to watch the small screen more carefully. You tense slightly as you try to pretend it doesn’t make you nervous that she’s close enough that you can almost feel her breath against you. You weren’t sure when you’d developed a crush on your best friend, but you desperately wished it would stop. The two of you had only gotten closer since high school had started a few months ago and your weird responses to Nat were only getting more noticeable as time went on.

You nearly breathe a sigh of relief as you finally reach the cap of your skill level and lose the game. Nat hums as she leans back away from you, crossing her legs underneath herself as she looks at you. “You’ve had more practice.” She accuses, ever the sore loser. You shrug in acceptance even though you haven’t actually started this game yet, being much more concerned with playing Super Mario Land. What Nat didn’t know certainly wouldn’t hurt you.

“If you say so, Natty.” You grin in anticipation, knowing what’s coming.

“Don’t call me that!” She grumbles immediately as she gives you a weak glare.

“Since when are you too cool to be my Natty?” You tease. Nat flushes slightly, pale cheeks going bright red as she turns away from you. One of your favorite things about Nat was the way she would blush to her ears at the slightest embarrassment, though you figured she probably couldn’t help it.

“Shut up.” She mutters. You concede easily as you start a new game. Nat glances up at sees you’re playing again.

“You’ve had enough practice,” Nat complains, reaching to grab it out of your hand. You move it further out of her reach as you grin playfully at her. You’ve lost interest in the game itself, much more interested in her desire to play it herself. You wiggle it just out of her reach as you taunt her with it. She scoffs and lunges at you so fast that she reaches you before you even realize she’s moved. Nat catches you by surprise as she overshoots and sends the both of you sprawling to the ground.

You groan breathlessly as the fall knocks the air out of your lungs. Nat hisses in pain as she rubs at her knee that she banged against the ground. As you catch your breath your eyes go wide as you realize the position you’ve found yourselves in. Nat lies fully on top of you with her arm still stretched fruitlessly out over your shoulder. You’ve got one hand trapped between the two of you, and the other stretched up still keeping the Gameboy out of her reach. Nat groans as she slowly shifts up to her knees, leaving her straddling you. Your breath gets caught in your throat for a different reason as you look up at her, Gameboy more than forgotten.

Nat’s got a strange look on her face as she looks down at you, her eyes fixating on your lips. 

“Hey.” She murmurs shyly, trying to gauge your mood.

“Hey.” You murmur back, slowly raising your now-freed hand to her cheek. She gives you a crooked grin as she leans down to kiss you for the first time, but certainly not the last.

…

December 24th, 1996. 

The longer you’ve been driving around town the more you realize just how much of Wiskayok reminds you of Nat. There’s nowhere you’ve looked for Lottie that you don’t associate with memories of Nat, no matter how weak the connection may be. With a town this small it’s hard to escape from anyone no matter how much you want to. During the awful few weeks between when you and Nat broke up and when you left for college, you found yourself almost haunted by the sheer amount of memories you were unable to separate her from. It almost makes you feel a little bad for her, knowing she has to live in them all the time.

As you pull up to the stop sign you can’t help but grin at the site of the old playground. Nat smiles slightly at the sight, turning her head to better get a look at it. It hasn’t aged well, the dilapidated wood and peeling paint not doing it any favors, but that’s not the important part. This mess of rotting wood and rusted swings holds some of your fondest memories, all of them involving Nat. “Do you remember,” You start, but Nat soon interrupts.

“The time when we pushed Jackie down the slide when she wasn’t ready?” She says with a wide grin.

You laugh loudly at the memory, nodding in agreement. “We had to spend the rest of recess running away from Shauna.” You reminisce fondly.

“God, she was fucking fast.” Nat comments.

“She was Princess Jackie’s loyal defender. No one could doubt her prowess.” You add, knowing it would get under Nat’s skin. Nat had always loved pretending to be Princess Lottie’s knight as a kid, always dragging you into it even though you’d rather be on the swings. Lottie and Jackie would sit up on the swings watching the rest of you duke it out for their amusement. Nat and Shauna had often gotten into mock battles as kids that Nat always seemed to lose by herself, no matter how hard she tried. Eventually, she always dragged you into it so she could win, uncaring of the way Shauna and Jackie would accuse her of cheating. Nat wasn’t one to play fairly as a kid, even if she later grew out of it.

Nat scoffs, turning fully in her seat to face you again. You turn your blinker on innocently, watching her fume out of the corner of your eye as you finally let your foot off the break. “Just because she was willing to bite people doesn’t mean she was a better knight than me.” Nat defends with just a hint of a pout. “She was ruthless.”

“Of course. Could you find it in your heart to forgive me Sir Scatorccio?” You tease. Nat grins, chest puffing up in an imitation of pride.

“Don’t doubt me again.” She warns playfully. 

You pull into the gas station to fill up your car, finally coming to the bright idea of trying to call any of Lottie’s other friends to see if she was with any of them. You fiddle with your loose chain for a minute, pulling out a handful of quarters as you head to the phone booth. Nat looks slightly impressed at the idea, following you over and leaning against the wall next to you as you begin dialing.

You roll your eyes as Nat's shivers start turning into shaking as she stubbornly crosses her arms against the cold. You shift your shoulder up to keep the phone pressed against your ear as you start rummaging around your pocket for your keys. Your fingers are numb enough that you nearly drop them as you get them out, flailing slightly with your hands as you finally manage to get a grip on them. You hold them out to Nat by your car key and point her toward the backseat. She gives you a confused look as she mouths the word what, careful not to interrupt your conversation. 

You cross your arms over your chest as you mimic being cold, and point back at your car. Her eyes widen slightly as she looks over, slowly walking up to the car and looking in the backseat. She gives you an unreadable look as she pulls out her favorite of your jackets and slips it over her shoulders; The jacket you always kept in the backseat for her because she constantly forgot to bring a thicker one. Nat zips it up as she leans against the car with her arms crossed against her chest. She doesn’t say anything, but you know her well enough to know by the small twitch of her lips that she’s a little pleased it’s still there. You turn further into the phone booth to hide a grin of your own, though it slowly falls as Shauna confirms that she and Jackie hadn’t seen Lottie either. 

You hang up the phone as you turn to face Nat, slowly shaking your head as you walk over. Nat’s face falls, a slightly stricken look taking its place. You’ve called basically everyone that Lottie knows, and still nothing. Honestly, you were starting to give up hope that you’d be able to find Lottie anytime by yourselves but you weren’t quite ready to admit it yet. “What now?” You ask Nat. She shrugs, pulling the jacket tighter around her. “We could try driving around, I guess?” You prompt, but she just shrugs again.

You scoff as you run your fingers frustratedly through your hair. “Nothing to say, Nat? That seems to be a common problem.” You accuse.

She scoffs as she pushes herself off the car to get in your face. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Y/N?” Nat asks gruffly.

You stare her down unafraid: Nat was generally all talk as far as you were concerned. “Just that your inability to communicate hasn’t changed while I was gone.” You knew damn well that you were blowing her little shrug out of proportion, but you’d been holding on to this anger longer than you’d care to admit.

“You seriously want to do this right now?” She asks, throwing her arms out dramatically to gesture around.

“When else are we going to do it, Nat? Why won’t you ever just fucking talk to me?” You spit out frustratedly. The two of you stare each other down for a long moment before Nat seems to deflate. She turns away and storms off to the car, sitting down and slamming the door behind her.

You take a minute to calm down before climbing back in the car yourself. You start the car without even looking at her, knowing you’d only make yourself angry again. “I don’t want to talk about it,” Nat says quietly.

“Sure. Whatever.” You say simply, pulling out of the gas station as you get back to looking for Lottie. You hope you find her soon: both because you’re worried about her, and so you can get away from Nat once and for all. If she wanted to be stubborn she could be stubborn, you were sick and tired of trying to reach out to her only to get shot down. If she wants to be miserable and alone so badly, who are you to stop her? You fume in silence.

…

June 18th, 1996

Your smile is a little strained as you walk up to your girlfriend, a little hesitant about what her mood is going to be like. You weren’t sure what was up with Nat recently, but she’d really been worrying you. Her mood was prone to change on a dime and she was more emotional than you’ve ever seen her. The closer you got to her the more sour her expression looked. Fucking great, You thought wryly. You held her cup out for her and she accepts it without comment, throwing her head back and drinking it in one gulp. Your eyes widen as you slowly sip at your own drink, taking your place leaning against the tree next to her as you watch the rest of the party.

Neither of you had really wanted to come out to the party tonight, but you knew that Lottie’s graduation party was one of the last times you and your friends would all be in the same place at the same time. Normally you’d just assume not wanting to be here is what has her so annoyed, but she had seemed perfectly happy when she was talking to Lottie earlier. You haven’t much liked how insecure Nat was making you feel lately, but you were going to wait until things calmed down a bit to bring it up. There was so much going on with school ending that you haven’t had the chance to bring it up.

You tentatively lean your head against Nat’s shoulder, feeling the way her body tenses underneath you. You sigh quietly as you decide to leave Nat to her own brooding, pushing off the tree as you begin to walk away. She stops you in your tracks with a hand wrapped loosely around your wrist, gently spinning you around. 

“We need to talk,” Nat says seriously, an unreadable expression on her face. You glance around the party to make sure no one’s close enough to hear you before you respond.

“You want to do it here?” You ask in disbelief. Nat shrugs, fingertips tapping rhythmlessly against her cup. “Fine, Nat. I don’t like how distant you’ve been lately.” You say firmly, still questioning Nat’s decision to hash this out in the middle of the party. She scoffs derisively.

“I haven’t been distant.” Nat refutes, “You’ve just been so fucking clingy.” Your eyes go wide in shock. Never in your entire life has Nat spoken to you like this.

“What the fuck did you just say to me?” You ask in disbelief, your voice getting louder with each word until you're practically yelling at her. You can tell the parties almost come to a stop around you but you can’t bring yourself to care.

“I said,” Nat continues as her voice rises to meet yours, “That you’ve been all over me recently! You won’t even let me breathe without commenting on it.” As angry as you are you can’t help but glance nervously around the party as the comment gets a little too close to revealing the nature of your relationship. Lottie seems to be corralling everyone into the house and smiles awkwardly when you give her a grateful look.

“Don’t act like I’m being crazy, Nat! You’ve been pulling away from me and you know it!” You accuse pointedly.

“Maybe I’m just getting tired of doing the same old thing all the time!” Nat yells back.

“Oh? Am I boring you now?” You ask mockingly. “Poor Natty and her boring little girlfriend, huh?”

“We’ve been doing the same damn thing since we were kids! You can’t tell me it isn’t getting old!” Nat shoots back.

Your face falls as you stare back at her with an undeniably hurt look on your face. “Getting old?” You ask quietly as if you’d lost all of the fire you’d had a minute ago with just one remark. Nat nods solemnly, looking down at the floor so that she doesn’t have to look you in the eyes.

“I think we should break up.” Nat rushes out as if she’s ripping a bandaid off.

“Break up?” You ask quietly, almost in disbelief.

“We’ve been growing apart,” Nat says simply as if that’s the only reason she needs to break up your four-year relationship. As if that’s the only reason she needs to walk away from your 10-year-old friendship.

“We’re different people. We grow apart all the time Nat, but we always come back together. That’s what we do.” You can barely get it out, so desperate that it verges on a whisper.

“Not this time,” Nat says sadly, shaking her head.

You focus on her chipped black nail polish as you try not to cry. You’d done it for her, you always have ever since you were kids; Nat never had the patience to do it herself, always getting nail polish all over her fingers as she impatiently tried to rush through it. You still remember the first time she’d asked fondly, Nat sheepishly handing you the bottle of dime-store black nail polish you’d picked up for her. It's been a while since she asked you to do it, but you don’t think you were truly aware of just how long it’s been until now. You wonder how long she’s been planning on breaking up with you; Was she thinking about how to let you down easy while you were scheming on how to sneak her into your dorm room? Was she grinning along at your idea of regularly scheduled calls while knowing in the back of her mind that she'd never make them? 

You think the worst part is the premeditation of it all. Had she just sprung it on you that would be one thing, but it's clear from her moods and the way she's speaking that she's been practicing this conversation. It stings more than you thought it would, not that you'd ever imagined the two of you breaking up. Nat was your person, she always has been ever since you moved here. You barely remember a time before her, and now you're going to have to live without her?

“Fuck you.” You choke out, turning around and storming off deeper into the party as you try to wipe away your tears. You miss the way Nat’s hand twitches after you as if she's resisting the urge to stop you. You never see the look of regret on Nat’s face that remains long after you disappear from view.

…

December 24th, 1996. 

Your bad mood lasts long after the moment passes, still looking around as you drive off to the last place you can think of that Lottie might go to. Misty was the only one who hadn’t answered the phone, and while you're doubtful that Lottie would go there willingly you still hoped that at the very least Misty would be able to help you find her. Misty always seemed to know things that everyone else didn’t, even when you were children.

The two of you drive in a slightly uncomfortable silence broken only by the sound of your blinker as you navigate your way across town. The longer you drive the more you notice the way Nat’s eyes always seem to dart away just as you have to look in her direction. Her gaze is a little unnerving now, even if it never used to be. “What is it?” You ask finally, growing tired of her little game.

“What are you talking about?” Nat deflects immediately, too soon to be anything but suspicious. You sigh, pulling your car off to the side of the road as you decide to confront her.

“You’re staring.” You accuse gently, giving Nat a curious look.

“So what? You look nice.” She admits with a shrug as if it isn’t a big deal. You can’t help but grow a little angry at the admission, your face twisting as a result of your mood. Nat’s eyes widen as she tries to mentally review what she could have done to upset you.

“I look nice?” You ask dangerously. Nat nods unsurely, feeling like she’s walking into a trap. “You like my outfit?” Nat nods again, fingers tapping anxiously against her thighs. “You don’t think it’s too boring?” Nat winces at the reminder, immediately turning to look out the window as she finds herself unable to meet your eyes. You scoff at the uncharacteristic display of cowardice. You aren’t sure what changed with Nat, but you desperately wished she’d get over it. You’d forgive her in a second if she just bothered to ask you for it.

“I don’t think you’re boring,” Nat says, leaning her head against the window as she looks at you.

“Change your mind so soon? It seemed pretty important a few months ago.” You remark bitterly, stuffing your hands in your pockets in an attempt to fight the cold creeping in.

“Well you’re so worldly now, aren’t you?” Nat jokes weakly, “With your college education and your cool new friends.”

You give Nat a weird look. “I’ve been at college for one semester, Nat.”

“Yeah, but I’m sure you’ve got those college girls lined up down the hall right?” Nat says with a strained smile. You shrug listlessly.

“Haven’t really been interested in dating.” 

Nat’s fingers clench into a fist as she stares down at her lap. “You haven’t… Haven’t wanted to be with anyone else?”

You sigh. “Not really, Nat. They’re not…” You trail off as you try to search for the right words, but can’t seem to find any that fit. “They’re not what I want.” You say finally.

Nat inhales sharply at the admission, looking strangely angry as she stares up at you. “No one? No one at all?” She asks.

“What are you going on about?” You ask her annoyedly. “It’s not like it’s any of your business, Nat. Not anymore.”

Nat deflates at the comment, hands unclenching as she leans back in her seat. She looks devastated as she stares over at you, seemingly lost in a way that you haven’t seen since her dad died. “It was for nothing, then?” She asks, quiet enough that you don’t think you were supposed to hear her.

“What was?”

“I didn’t want to hold you back,” Nat admits quietly. You stare at her in shock as you contemplate what she’s just said. Out of all the self-sacrificing bullshit she could have pulled, this is what she decided on? You’d be angrier if it didn’t make you so fucking sad at the thought of it; Leave it to Nat to break both of your hearts because she was being self-deprecating again.

“You broke up with me to do me a favor? Is that it?” You demand bitterly.

“You're leaving this fucking town, Y/N. You didn’t need me to drag you down with me.” You roll your eyes at her excuse– because that’s all it was, an excuse. Not even a particularly good one, certainly not the truth.

“Since when do we lie to each other, Nat? You started at the party and can't seem to bring yourself to stop can you?” You accuse.

Nat mirrors your look of anger as she stares you down in return. Nat was always too stubborn for her own good, always getting herself into trouble because of it. The longer you sit in heated silence the more Nat seems to calm down, until finally she sighs as she looks at you defeatedly. 

“What was I supposed to offer you?” She asks softly.

You give her a questioning look as you feel like you’re finally making some progress, eyes widening at the sight of tears welling up in the corners of her eyes. She clears her throat pointedly as she wipes at her eyes with the back of her hand in an attempt to erase the evidence of her outburst. “You were going across the state to all those smart girls that you can talk nerd shit to.” She offers weakly, “I was afraid you were leaving me behind.”

“You were afraid I was going to break up with you, so you broke up with me first?” You ask in confusion.

“I didn’t think you’d break up with me.” She admits. “I was worried you’d resent me for it.”

“Why didn’t you just talk to me about it, Natty? Like adults?”

She laughs wetly, giving you a wry grin. “I wasn’t exactly self-aware about it when I did it. Honestly, Lottie was the one who told me about it.” You snicker, running your hand through your hair as you look at her fondly.

“Lottie does seem to have a sixth sense for these kinds of things.” You admit with a small smile. You stare at her for a long moment as you consider it in your head. Nat hurt you pretty bad, but she’s always been bad with her emotions. You don’t think she meant to be as malicious as she was, but the fact of the matter is that it still happened. “I need you to say it.”

She tilts her head in confusion before her eyes widen in realization. “Oh.” She murmurs quietly, sitting up straight as she gives you her full attention. “I was being stupid, and I’m really sorry about it.”

You hum teasingly, tilting your head to the side with a playful grin on your face. “I don’t think I’m feeling it.” You say.

Nat smirks as she holds her hands together in front of her as if she was begging. “Please, oh please could you ever find it in yourself to forgive me?” She pleads, sticking her lip out in an exaggerated pout. She’s playing along because you want her to, but you can see how relieved she looks. You sigh dramatically, never able to resist matching her energy.

“I think I just might.” You say, serious even in your playful tone. Nat nods, ever-present smirk never leaving her face for a second. You watch as her eyes slowly lower to your lips, tilting her head in question.

You lean in close to her so that your lips are just centimeters apart. “We should talk some more, later.” You murmur seriously. She hums in acknowledgment and you finally allow yourself to close the distance, meeting her in a gentle kiss. You’ve missed the way she felt, the way her lips moved against you. You pull back to speak again, but Nat just follows along as she refuses to let you break away from her again. She’s nearly straddling you as she leans over the center console, stretching unsteadily to reach you as you keep backing your head up. You wince as you smack your head against the window, Nat finally pulling away to laugh at your expense. You mock her laugh in a high-pitched voice which only serves to set her off further. You roll your eyes at the sight, but can’t help the warm feelings it brings. Maybe there was such a thing as 

Christmas magic, but then again it was still the 24th.

Oh shit. You think. You smack Nat gently on the arm. She rubs at it exaggeratedly as she gives you an offended look.

“Lottie.” You remind her.

“Oh shit,” Nat exclaims, pulling away so she can put her seatbelt back on. “Here’s hoping Quigley has the answer.” She mutters, not sounding excited in the slightest.

…

December 24th, 1996. 

You stand with Nat outside of Misty’s door as both of you trade imploring looks back and forth trying to get the other to knock. You’d usually bring out old reliable by now, rock paper scissors, but neither of you was willing to let go of the other’s hand to do it. Nat finally seems to give in, rolling her eyes as she raises her free hand to knock, but the door swings open before her fist can meet the wood to reveal Misty’s wild smile.

“Hi, guys!” Misty greets happily, gasping in excitement as her eyes land on your interlocked hands. She claps her hands together excitedly as she invites you in. “I’m so glad that you’ve gotten back together!” 

You and Nat exchange slightly panicked looks as it wasn’t exactly common knowledge. You look wide-eyed at Misty and she seems to catch on to this. “Oh,” Misty says with a touch of awkwardness, pushing her glasses further up her nose. “You notice a lot of things as the equipment manager.” She nods as if that’s a super obvious and normal thing to say as she leads you further into her house. You nod unsurely in agreement, utterly unconvinced but not wanting to further push the issue when you need her help. You like Misty well enough, but she has a troubling habit of knowing things about you that you don’t necessarily want her to. Still, you figure that there’s no one better to go to in a crisis.

“Thanks for inviting us in, Misty. We just wanted to know if you know anything-” You start, but are quickly interrupted by Nat.

“Holy shit!” Nat exclaims, pointing at the couch. You stare dumbfounded at a bound Lottie sitting on the couch. Her hands are tied in front of her with a tie as she sips at a mug of hot chocolate. Lottie raises one of her hands slightly in greeting as she shoots Misty a supremely annoyed look. “What the fuck?” Nat asks.

You let go of Nat’s hands as you try to free Lottie but find yourself unable to untie the knot. You look back at Misty who grins over at you. “Oh.” Misty murmurs, walking over and untying Lottie in one quick movement. You watch the tie slide loosely down Lottie’s arms, still not entirely sure how Misty untied it in the first place. Nat walks over to stand behind you, shooing Misty away. Misty makes an offended noise as she starts protesting but you’ve decided to ignore it as you look down at Lottie.

“Were you in on it?” You ask in concern. Lottie shakes her head, shooting an annoyed glare at a still protesting Misty.

“Do you seriously need to ask that?” Lottie asks, rolling her eyes. “She showed up at my house and the next thing I know I’m tied up in her house.” You eye Misty wearily as Nat still fights off her attempts to talk to either of you.

“Let’s just go home,” Lottie says, slightly pleading as she rubs at her wrists. She doesn’t seem all that worse for wear, more annoyed than anything at the ordeal.

“Shouldn’t we like… Call the cops or something?” You ask unsurely. Lottie raises an eyebrow in question as she looks at you.

“And tell them what? She fed me three meals a day and hasn’t left a mark on me. As far as the cops are concerned we could have been having a sleepover.” Lottie remarks, glancing back over at Misty.

Nat’s looking back and forth between Lottie and Misty with a look of disbelief on her face. “Are we seriously jus-” She starts.

“Yes,” Lottie says, setting her mug on the table and standing up. Misty sitting down on the couch opposite you after she gave up on trying to get past Nat. She looks frustrated as she looks between the three of you as if she doesn’t understand why you could possibly be upset with her.

“I was helping you!” Misty defends. “I brought you back together!” Misty pouts slightly as she looks at you.

You open your mouth to speak, unsure of what you could even say at this moment but Nat beats you to it.

“Thanks, Misty,” Nat says sarcastically, giving her a little wave. The two of you follow Lottie out the door, relieved to finally get out of there.

“Are you like… good?” Nat asks Lottie in concern. “I could still go back in there.”

Lottie sighs as she slumps back against your car. “It was fine, I guess. As far as kidnappings go.” She pauses as if deep in thought. “She just kept playing movie musicals.” She shivers in horror, glancing up at Misty’s house in remembered terror. Nat pats her shoulder sympathetically, also shivering in horror at the thought. You watch the scene in silent disbelief, shaking your head as you unlock the doors to your car. 

“What took you guys so long, anyway?” Lottie asks curiously as she buckles her seatbelt. You meet Nat’s eyes in the rearview mirror, both of you looking guilty and slightly panicked. Lottie takes one look at the two of you and gasps in offense.

“You stopped to make out while I was missing?” She scoffs but looks slightly amused anyway as she shakes her head. 

The drive to Lottie’s house is mostly spent in silence as she stares contemplatively out the window. You and Nat keep exchanging teasing glances in the rearview mirror and you're almost positive she’s coming home with you later. You pull into Lottie’s driveway to let her out but suddenly remember that you’ve busted her door. “Uh, Lottie.” You start, pointing at the door. “We kind of br-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Lottie mutters, pinching at the bridge of her nose. She turns to look at you looking uncharacteristically small in your passenger seat. “Would you spend the night?” She asks quietly. Your face falls slightly at the question but you immediately acquiesce. You and Nat could always hang out another time, you suppose. 

Lottie grins as she opens the car door. “It’s a big house, don’t let me get in your way. Just wait till I’m asleep, yeah? The least you could do for busting my door.” Nat scoffs and immediately starts arguing the necessity of it as you walk up the steps to her front door. 

You’ve missed this. 

…

December 25th, 1996. 

“It’s finally snowing.” You murmur as you turn your head to stare out the window.

“Yeah?” Nat asks quietly against your neck, the feeling of her hot breath making you shiver. She shifts against you to prop herself up on her elbow as she peers out the window over your body. “About time.” She says.

She looks you up and down with a smug grin making you roll your eyes. “Again?” You ask fondly.

She shrugs, incorrigible as always. “It’s been a while.” Nat teases. “Won’t you warm me up?”

“You’d be warmer if you put your clothes back on.” You point out playfully but lean in to kiss her anyway.

[gravehags]

every day is halloween

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x f!Reader (Curator!Reader)

Rating: Teen

Tags: reader and Copia have become good friends, sexual tension, romantic tension, Halloween party, Terzo is back on his matchmaking bullshit, slight Terzomega

Words: 2,156

Summary: Halloween always was your favorite holiday.

a/n: Desperately wanted Copia in a Halloween costume so here we are. If you know who either Copia or reader is dressed as I'm giving you a big wet kiss with tongue.

divider by @gothdaddyissues!

“So what are you going to be for the big Halloween party?”

You’ve got your feet up on your coffee table, currently watching Copia poorly guide Lara Croft through a jungle temple. When you found out he likes video games just as much as you do - albeit his games are a little older - you invited him to your quarters every Friday for a game night. These nights usually consisted of the two of you drinking wine and taking turns with your PS5 controller, all the while casually venting about your respective weeks. Lara runs directly off a cliff and you snort as Copia throws his hands up in defeat, tossing the controller onto the couch.

“Eh…it’s a secret,” the tips of his ears are red and a slow grin settles on your face.

“Ooooh,” you tease, adjusting yourself on the cushion so your legs are tucked under you. “Alright fine, I’m not telling you mine either. But it’s so good. You’ll never guess.”

Copia’s mustache twitches in amusement.

“Hmm…give me a hint, cara. Per favore.”

You’re momentarily distracted by the endearment - you still haven’t quite gotten used to hearing that sort of thing from him since Terzo’s party and it enchants you every time - but then your face settles into a pout.

“Now why would I do that?”

“Eh…because we are amici. And I am a terrible guesser.”

You make sure to put extra drama into your eye roll but answer him all the same.

“Fine. ONE hint. It’s a historical figure.”

When he reaches a gloved hand up to stroke his mustache thoughtfully you can’t help but sigh a little. Where did he get off being so damn cute?

“Is it–”

“Don’t guess now,” you say, slapping his arm lightly. “You can ponder it over the next few weeks. Now come on, pick that controller up, Lara has some tombs to raid.”

Grabbing it, he passes it to you.

“Your turn, dolcezza,” he says with a tired look. “It has been far too long a week and I would much rather watch you play.”

Shrugging, you lean over and set your wine glass down on the table and accept the controller from his hand.

“Watch and learn, dear Cardinal,” you smirk as you unpause the game.

He spends the remainder of the evening with his eyes on you and not the screen.

—-

“Progress on your costume coming along?” you ask, bent over with your arms on Copia’s desk. When you see his cheeks redden at the sight of you you realize your compromising position and straighten with a blush of your own.

“Eh…” he begins and clears his throat, fidgeting with the cuffs of his cassock. “Sì. Very well, I think I have all the necessary parts.”

You roll up on your tiptoes with a thoughtful expression. “Me too. Gotta say you’ve got me very intrigued, Copia.”

“D-do I?” he asks, leaning back in his chair trying his best to look casual. He’s chewing on his bottom lip and he reaches up to straighten his biretta.

“Mmhmm. Two weeks and we’ll see who can guess who is who,” you say, rolling back onto the flat of your feet and crossing your arms.

“Ah…is this a challenge now, cara?”

You fix Copia with a positively angelic look and cant your hip, not missing the way his mismatched eyes slide over your form. When he smirks up at you, your knees nearly buckle.

“Well then, signorina, if I can guess who you are or you can guess who I am…then what?”

“You get…a favor.”

“Oh?” He’s stroking his mustache again and this time you have to take a seat because your knees really do wobble.

“Yep, one favor. Redeemable anywhere, anytime.”

“For anything?” the tone of his voice lowers, darkens, and it takes you by surprise. Suddenly you remember that delicious little dream you had where he–

Ahem.

Focus.

“Sure,” you say lightly, ignoring the implications of such a broad demand. “And if I guess correctly, I get a favor of my own.”

“What if we both guess correctly?”

“Well,” you say, studying your cuticles, “the favors could cancel each other out. Or we just both have favors from one another.”

“Sì, the second option,” he says quickly, tapping his fingers on the arm of his chair. 

“Got something in mind?” you ask with a wry grin, wiggling your eyebrows a little. His eyes narrow and he exhales through his nose.

“Perhaps,” he practically purrs, and you have to force yourself to school your face into a neutral expression. Flustered, you rise from your chair and meander towards his office door. When your hand is on the knob you turn to face him again.

“It’s a bet, then?”

He nods solemnly, but you don’t miss the lascivious grin that plays around his painted lips.

Game on.

—

You’ve finally finished lacing yourself into the decadent black and red gown you purchased and regard yourself in your bedroom mirror. Seventeenth-century looks good on you, with the shape of the stays you wear and the way they heave your breasts up. Reaching backwards towards your bed, you grab the belt you made with small potion bottles and tie it around your waist. Last thing is an elaborate pearl necklace - the icing on the cake. When you’ve completed your look you give a little twirl in place and grin. Copia won’t know what hit him. Walking out of your room you grab your keys and phone and slip them into the discreet pocket inside your dress before heading out of your quarters.

The Ministry Halloween party, you’ve been told, is quite a sight. Terzo described it to you once at the beginning of September as the most lively celebration of the year. You are quite looking forward to seeing the costumes the siblings have adorned themselves with and your little heels tap insistently on the stone floor as you pick up your pace. Approaching the celebration hall you hear an intense muffled din coming through the large wooden doors. Taking a deep breath, you heave the doors open and your jaw drops. There must be hundreds of people in the room, wearing every costume you could possibly imagine. One wall is lined with a long table filled with decadent foods and beverages. Music plays, but is ultimately drowned out by the boisterous noise coming from the crowd that you find yourself navigating. Several siblings smile at you as you pass - just now finally warming up to you - and you’re relieved when you spot Terzo. He’s decked out in head-to-toe black with a cape and a mask over his eyes, a jaunty hat perched on his dark hair.

“Zorro?” you ask with a smile and he beams back at you. 

“Do I not look very dashing?” he crows, striking a pose. One of his ghouls emerges from behind you carrying a glass of punch - Omega, you think? - who is wearing his usual mask and short cassock. On his head is a headband with a gold halo attached and when you laugh out loud, you like to think he’s smiling at you from behind the mask. The ghouls and their function were still a mystery to you but you appreciated their stoic presence around the abbey. Terzo accepts the punch from Omega and cozies up to you, throwing an arm around your shoulders.

“Don’t you look delicious tonight, bella,” he purrs in your ear. “Beautiful view,” he says, his eyes lingering on the abundant cleavage your gown produces.

When you roll your eyes and elbow him sharply in the side, you swear you hear the tall ghoul chuckle.

“I assume,” Terzo coughs after collecting himself, “that you are looking for your amato cardinale?”

You open your mouth to both protest and respond when you see Copia cutting through the crowd. He looks incredible. As he approaches your trio you gape at his outfit, having never seen him in anything but his standard cassock before. He’s wearing a tuxedo with a black bowtie and a red cummerbund. On his shoulders is a black cape lined with red satin. His mustache is waxed and hair impeccable, and you notice he’s added some grey at the temples to enhance his natural coloring.

Now it’s Terzo’s turn to elbow you. But there’s no need - Copia is similarly enraptured with your appearance, eyes dancing over the details of your gown and as Terzo did, gazing at the swell of your breasts. 

“Bellissima,” Copia breathes and Terzo regards the two of you with something akin to pride.

“Omega,” he says airily, “let us fetch some drinks.”

You barely register Terzo and his ghoul leaving the two of you alone. It’s as if all of a sudden the raucous din from the party around you has quieted as the two of you behold each other. Finally coming to your senses you shake your head and give Copia a wide smile.

“Look at you,” you say, giving him an exaggerated once-over, “aren’t you something?”

“Me?” Copia replies hoarsely, adjusting his tuxedo jacket, “Cara, you.”

You give a little “who me?” wave of your hand, but the violent blush on your cheeks gives away your true feelings.

“Well?” you ask, giving a little twirl, “who am I?”

Copia’s mouth finally closes as he remembers the bet the two of you have created. He puts his gloved hand to his chin and considers.

“Eh…is the costume historically accurate?”

You put on a faux-offended look. “Just who do you think you’re talking to?”

He gives you a sheepish smile and waves his hand at you.

“Hmm…” he studies you intently and you look to the ground in an effort to avoid his gaze.

“You get three guesses,” you murmur. You’re feeling generous tonight, and you’d be lying if you said a part of you didn’t want him to win.

“Artemisia Gentileschi,” he says firmly.

“Ooh, not a bad guess!” you’re impressed by him that’s for sure. “But no, not Artemisia.”

“Ah shit,” he sighs. “But the right era, sì?”

You nod.

He considers you for another silent moment before making a noise of exclamation.

“Julie d’Aubigny!” he says, looking smug. Once again you have to hand it to him for his knowledge of deep historical cuts.

“I appreciate that you acknowledge me as a bisexual icon but nope. I have no sword!”

Copia swears loudly and puts his hands on his hips. Idly, you run your fingers over the potion bottles on your belt. He’s silent for almost three whole minutes before a slow grin spreads on his face.

“Giulia Tofana,” he says, fully sure of himself this time. You grin back at him, giggle erupting from your throat.

“Bingo,” you say, poking him lightly in the chest. “Not too shabby, Cardinal, I’m very impressed.”

He looks like he wants to strut around like a proud rooster and you love the confident air he’s adorned himself with. When he’s finished preening about his victory, he holds up his hands.

“Your turn, cara.”

When you step forward into his space his eyes widen and his breathing becomes more rapid as you stalk around him in a circle.

“I think,” you say as you round his shoulder, “I deserve a hint. I gave you one a month ago and it’s only fair.”

“We’ve discussed him before,” he says simply, adjusting his gloves. Your lips curl upwards.

“Well as I have said before you look an awful lot like Vincent Price. And there’s something so familiar about this get-up, I know I’ve seen it somewhere…”

Copia says nothing but his mustache twitches in an effort not to smile. You open your mouth to tease him and then it hits you like a truck.

“Oh. My God.” you laugh. “No way!”

He’s giggling with you now, knowing full well you’ve deduced his outfit.

“You did not come to this party dressed as Vincent Van Ghoul!” you squeal and he lets out a deep laugh.

“Molto bene, Signora Tofana,” he says, slowly clapping his hands together. You give him a little curtsy just as Terzo and Omega approach you again, bearing several cups of punch.

“For you,” Terzo thrusts a glass of ominous red liquid into your hand before handing another to Copia. You smile fondly at him over the rim of your glass and Terzo gives you a little wink.

“Saluti!” he half-shouts, raising his glass. “To bets! To Sathanas! To love!”

Avoiding all eyes, you clink your glass against the other three and take a deep drink. You don’t know what is in this stuff but you suspect it’s whatever Terzo made you take a shot of at that party. It makes your throat burn and your belly warm.

“Happy Halloween,” you say softly, eyes meeting Copia’s once more.

“Happy Halloween, cara mia,” he says, just as quietly.

You don’t see Terzo looking up at Omega knowingly before pressing a kiss to the side of his mask.