#seriously everyone is so good in this one

[mossangelll]

what arcane characters would be like at christmas!

inspired by @cosmicporos whose work is here <3

i’m in the christmas spirit and wanted to do a sillier post on what some arcane characters are like at this time of the year! once christmas and exams are over, i’ll get back to working through requests ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

Jinx:

jinx gifts you something homemade, maybe a scrapbook of all the things you did together throughout the year?

aw omg i bet she’s amazing at taking secret pics…there’s so many embarrassing pictures of you in there but you can’t even hate it when she doodles love hearts right next to them :’)

all the pictures inside would be meticulously dated with a corresponding memory to go underneath

she wants to show you how much she cares!

jinx would love anything you give her, but she would swoon if you got her materials to make more chomper bombs - she loves how accepting and enthusiastic you are of her hobbies

jinx’s favourite holiday activity is decorating!

she loves getting into a festive spirit where it’s seen as more acceptable to be goofy and childlike?

she’s very thrifty so i feel like most of the decor is stuff you guys make together in front of a warm fire while it snows outside hehe

makes cranberry and popcorn garlands which you guys end up eating by the end of the week

there’s just plain string all over the place 😭

obviously there will be christmas themed graffiti

instead of a star or angel on top of the tree, she makes miniature figurines of you two hugging to stick on top

she is incredibly down bad for you and loves the holidays because she gets to be extra sentimental

gets a stupidly skinny christmas tree that barely has enough branches to wrap decorations around but she wouldn’t have it any other way

jinx doesn’t want to take everything tooooo seriously

jinx’s favourite christmas song is i wish it could be christmas everyday

Vi:

vi gifts you your own leather jacket! it's second hand and a bit worn through but she tried her best

you always spoke about how much you loved her jacket and now you two can match

irons and pins on patches of your favourite bands all over the jacket

spends so much time into making sure it looks perfect for you

i can see you two wearing each other’s jackets a lot so you can smell like one another

best investment ever - now everyone knows you two are made for each other

she would love it if you gifted her boxing gloves in her signature colour!

vi’s favourite holiday activity is sledding!

she probably uses an old sled her and jinx made together when they were younger

it’s seen better days but she doesn’t want to give it up anytime soon

better wear a helmet in case the whole sled comes apart as you ride it 😭

she’s the kind of person to convince you to let her push the sled down a steep hill… she cheers as you scream in fear

when you asked her if it was safe she winked and told you to trust her 😐

big mistake but how can you say no to her???

you both land in a heap of snow at the bottom, laughing so hard you have to catch your breath as snowflakes melts into your hair

she rolls you around in the snow and kisses you for a loooooong time hehe

vi’s favourite christmas song is baby it’s cold outside

Ekko:

ekko gifts you a painting he made of you!

he’s very nervous when he does, watching for every little reaction on your face - he just wants to know that he did a good job and made you happy

how could you not like it? he captures your likeness so well it feels like looking in a very flattering mirror

you can tell how much love and thought he put into it

he would love it if you gifted him more face paint and hair dye - even better if you offer to do it for him!

ekko’s favourite holiday activity is playing in the snow!

snowball fights, building snowmen and igloos, making snow angels - all of it!

this guy LOCKS IN when it comes to snowball fights

honestly sometimes you want to say no bcs he gets a bit too committed and you feel like you’re getting hunted down 😭

but then he promises to make you hot chocolate when you get inside so it works out in the end

accidentally pelts you in the face with a solid snowball and his face drops

he runs over to where you got knocked over and is worriedly checking you all over to make sure you’re not hurt

that’s when you shove snow down his back and run away in a fit of giggles

he goes still before he starts to chase after you - you both launch snow at each other for house

yeah, you both get ill after that 😭

ekko’s favourite christmas song is santa clause is coming to town

Jayce: 

jayce gifts you jewellery he forged himself :3

i can see him dragging you along to the workshop, making you watch him be all sweaty and hot for hours (you’re not complaining)

if you ask what exactly he’s making there he brushes it off as a custom piece of equipment needed for his experiments - little do you know it’s actually gifts for you

when he does gift it to you he has the most smug look in his face

who else is doing gifts like him?? exactly 🙂‍↕️

he would love it if you gave him new tools he can use when he’s doing his forging!

jayce’s favourite holiday activity is making gingerbread houses!

mainly sneakily nibbling away at little pieces of you (you notice)

you two end up ditching the house and smear icing all over each other

he licks the icing off your cheek

you tell him how gross he is but he’s not fooled when you’re blushing and giggling at his antics

after you two finish your “break”, you get to work on finally completing the gingerbread house

doesn’t let you leave the kitchen until you’re done - he made BLUEPRINTS for the house

it ends up being more like a mansion when you’re done

he’s cheesing so hard when it’s done and he makes you pose with the house

he posts it on his instagram story with some dumb caption (“look at my sweet treat and the gingerbread house we made 😜”) and you only find out when your friends send it to you

jayce’s favourite christmas song is all i want for christmas is you

Viktor:

viktor gifts you customised skincare he made just for you!

he is more physics-minded but after hearing you complain about how all the products you tried just weren’t doing it for you, he decides to step up

spends so much time consulting chemists at the academy for help creating the products

“subtly” asks you questions about your skin so as not to give himself away

“your skin looks quite dry today, would you agree?”

says this in front of a bunch of people - you hate this man so much 😭

you’re so happy when he gifts it to you, you’ve never had someone listen so intently to what you talk about

you definitely cry into his arms and he’s a bit stunned but eventually holds onto you - you stay like that for a while

he would love it if you gave him fancy coffee to help him stay up in the lab!

viktor’s favourite holiday activity is going to the christmas markets!

loves the smell of cinnamon and cocoa in the air, loves how the cold air nips at his nose

the icy ground is a bit of a nuisance for his cane but he knows he always has you to help out, even if he hates asking ^^

makes you two look at all the lights so you can rate them

goes to basically every dessert stand and scarfs down an insane amount of sweet things in record time

likes to buy the weirdest snow globes he can find

viktor’s favourite christmas song is winter wonderland

Caitlyn:

cait gifts you a first-edition copy of you’re favourite classical novel! 

she had to pull a lot couple of strings to get it but she would do just about anything for you 

even though you’d be happy with anything she gives you, she places a lot of expectations on herself 

she stresses herself out over making sure you have the best christmas ever 

she would love it if you gave her clothes that she would actually wear, things she’s told her she likes - not just what she’s expected to wear 

cait’s favourite holiday activity is ice skating!

she’s honestly so good at ice skating you’re surprised it isn’t her job or something 

takes you skating on the frozen lake at her estate 

if you don’t know how to skate, she’s incredibly patient and teaches you the basics

she loves that you have to cling onto her so you don’t fall over 

if you know how to skate, she bashfully asks if you want to learn couple’s ice skating choreography with her 

has the time of her life doing lifts and jumps with you! 

wishes she could stay outside skating with you 

cait's favourite christmas song is underneath the tree 

Mel:

mel gifts you a holiday at your dream destination!

she has lots of money at her disposal and gifts you things all the time, so she really has to go above and beyond for this one

you complain about barely getting to see her due to her work on the council so she manages to get a week away with you!

has a whole itinerary planned out so all you have to do is sit back and relax

makes up for all the time she spent away from you by making sure you're both attached at the hip lol

she would love it if you gifted her one of those jars full of little notes with things you love and admire about that person!

mel’s favourite holiday activity is playing games by the fireplace!

at first, she’s off-put by the whole idea - she’s not a child

but deep down i feel like she’s quite lonely and yearns to feel like she really belongs somewhere, she’s just scared to be emotionally vulnerable

so when you come along she reluctantly agrees and finds that she really loves doing this at a time that reminds her of her estranged family

loosens up around you and feels like she can really be herself

she’s also very competitive so it adds more drama to it all

you guys definitely argue when you play charades or uno 😭

she makes it up to you by letting you win the next game even if it’s incredibly obvious

makes silly bets when you play - “if i win the next round you have to tell me what you got be for christmas”

she’s such a cutie

mel’s favourite christmas song is santa baby

Ambessa:

ambessa gifts you a spa day

honestly a bit of a self-indulgent present since her mind isn’t completely innocent with this gift

a spa day is a spa day however

she doesn’t celebrate christmas - it’s a useless frivolity that wastes precious time that could be used to train her army

she knows how much you enjoy it though so she makes an exception for you

you can tell her heart’s not in it but it’s sweet that she tries for you

she would love it if you made her an intricate meal with all her favourite noxian foods!

ambessa’s favourite holiday activity is making christmas cards!

well, she’s not the one making them

she just watches you make them

but she thinks the look of concentration on your face is quite endearing so she stays around to watch you make them

she’s surprised by how much effort goes into making them from scratch and she walks away with a new appreciation for your hobby

you could beg her to join but she’s just not gonna do it 😭

she likes you, but not that much

ambessa’s favourite christmas song is none of them unfortunately <\3 (she has a soft spot for feliz navidad)

Heimerdinger:

heimerdinger gifts you a jailbroken gaming console 😭

he spent precious time on that thing

doesn’t agree with doing things like that usually but it’s christmas

everyone deserves a treat every now and then!

hopes you’ll focus on your work at the academy more often if you have this

backfires in his face because you’re constantly on it now, oh well

at least you liked the present

he would love it if you you gifted him a song you wrote!

heimerdinger’s favourite holiday activity is secret santa!

he is SO bad at keeping his a secret 😭

he goes around the academy asking people about your hobbies, likes and dislikes

you know he has you by the end of the day lmao

he’s so cute you can’t even be mad

heimerdinger’s favourite christmas song is wonderful christmastime

AU!Claggor:

claggor gifts you one of his hybrid plants! 

this is a huge honour since they’re basically his children 

the one he gifts you was a seedling from the very first plant that managed to survive off the fissure gases 

gives you a whole speech on how to properly care for it (tells you the secret is to whisper positive affirmations to it every morning) 

he’s nervous gifting it you since it means so much to him, but he knows he can trust you to look after it 

it’s so sweet since he’s sharing such an important part of his life with you!

he would love it if you gave him cuttings from a rare plant you may or may not have taken from some rich piltie 

claggor’s favourite holiday activity is baking! 

he has his own apron and everything 

makes cookies and yule logs topped with marshmallows - he goes above and beyond 

makes enough to give out to family and friends 

he loves seeing people enjoy his labor of love, it makes him all fuzzy inside 

claggors’s favourite christmas song is it’s beginning to look a lot like christmas 

AU!Mylo:

mylo gifts you wool gloves!

you always complain about having cold hands so whenever you two are outside, your hands are always in your pockets

but he wants to hold your hand :(

so gloves it is!

two birds with one stone

he would love it if your gift was literally just a kiss under the mistletoe, he doesn’t ask for much!

mylo’s favourite holiday activity is scavenger hunts!

he’s another one who thinks certain activities are childish, but once he gets in the zone istg he’s shoving actual kids out of the way 😭

like i genuinely believe you would have to restrain him because he’s going feral over this

he needs to calm down tbh

probably loses to a five year old and sulks for the rest of the rest of the day

mylo’s favourite christmas song is a nonsense christmas

Silco:

silco gifts you expensive clothes and perfume/cologne

he’s got MONEY and i feel like he wants to make up for the fact that he’s never had much growing up, so he spoils you in all the ways you deserve

he rolls his eyes if you tell him you don’t want anything for christmas

as if he would let you celebrate the day empty handed

when you asked him for a big fir tree you got it, along with mountains of presents stacked underneath

way too many for one person

he watches you intently with a smirk on his face, loving the way your eyes light up with each present you unwrap

he likes having the satisfaction that only he can treat you like this

he would love it if you offered to inject his eye as a gift - he can’t really reject this, can he?

if you offered under any other circumstances, he would probably say no

silco’s favourite holiday activity is dressing up as santa!

ok hear me out

one day when jinx was younger she asked if she would see santa that year

and he just…dressed up as him?? and gave her presents??? and now it’s a tradition that’s stuck 😭

keep in mind jinx didn’t believe in santa at this point but he had no idea about this so he didn’t want her to be disappointed

his santa impression is just “ho, ho, ho” 😐 he’s so deadpan it’s hilarious

he has this tacky stiff beard and pillows stuffed under his costume

so when you find out about it, you beg to see it with your own eyes

it’s sooooo embarrassing for him but he loves making his favourite people happy no matter the cost

doesn’t let anyone else but you two and sevika see him like that

silco’s favourite christmas song is…the christmas song lol

Sevika:

sevika gifts you a custom-made gun, “to Y/N, from sev” inscribed on the handle 

she’s secretly whipped for you but can’t let anyone else know, how else is she meant to keep up her tough facade? 

teaches you how to use the gun - she doesn’t want you to be defenceless in the lanes, especially since you’re connected to someone like her 

her worst fear is someone hurting you to get to her 

she would love it if you got her a backup arm, god knows hers is always getting ruined considering all the fights she gets into 

sevika’s favourite holiday activity is watching christmas movies!

she rarely gets a moment to relax so when the holidays come around, she loves getting to chill with you on the couch 

you guys watch those awful hallmark movies and you spend the entire time complaining the the tv about how unrealistic and dumb the characters are 

she throws popcorn at the tv whenever her least favourite character shows up 

oooh i can picture you two sipping on mulled wine, sevika’s arm wrapped around your shoulders 

you’re basically snuggled into her lap and she lives for it 

would die if anyone saw her like that though 

makes it a yearly tradition to show you the picture she secretly took of silco dressed up as santa 

she basically glows inside when she hears your laughter ring out like bells 

sevika’s favourite christmas song is please come home for christmas 

Vander:

vander gifts you free hug vouchers lmao 

i see him as someone who values sentimental value over material possessions, so he came up with this genius idea >:)

you’re having a bad day? redeem a free bear hug!

you’re feeling sappy? redeem a free bear hug! 

you just want a hug? you don’t even need to ask! 

he was scared you would think he was just being lazy with this present but he’s elated when he sees you openly tearing up at it 

you both laugh at the christmas table over his present 

he would love it if you gave the kids a gift, it shows how much you care! 

vander’s favourite holiday activity is carol singing

except drunk (it’s for charity!)

drunk carol singing is good for the soul, or so he says 

i can imagine him and silco when they were younger wandering the streets, cheeks red with sappy grins straining their faces, belting out songs at the top of their lungs 

multiple people told them to shut up 

they just sang louder 

end up at the last drop where they have a karaoke session 

when he does get tips for his carolina, he uses it to help the most vulnerable people in zaun 

helping his people is his main priority  

vander’s favourite christmas song is let it snow

masterlist

[psychoticfemmm]

between two worlds

pairing: rafe cameron x pogue!reader

summary: Rafe steps out of his comfort zone to join the Pogues for a beach night.

The beach was alive with the usual chaos that defined the Pogues. JJ was digging through a cooler for beer, Kie was setting up a makeshift bonfire, and Pope was arguing with John B over whose turn it was to collect firewood. You sat on a blanket, watching the sunset over the ocean, your heart racing as Rafe Cameron’s figure loomed in the distance.

“I can’t believe you invited him,” JJ said, shooting you a pointed look as he cracked open a beer. “This is sacred Pogue territory, Y/N.”

“He’s my boyfriend,” you said simply, brushing sand off your legs.

“Yeah, unfortunately,” JJ muttered under his breath.

Sarah shot him a look. “Give him a chance, JJ. If Y/N can handle his crazy ass, we can for one night.”

You turned to see Rafe walking toward you, his shoulders slightly tense, his hands shoved in his pockets. The evening light softened his features, but you could tell he was uneasy. He wasn’t exactly a welcome presence among the Pogues, and he knew it.

“You didn’t tell me it’d be this many people,” he murmured when he reached you, leaning down to kiss your temple.

“Rafe, it’s literally just them,” you teased, gesturing toward the group. “You’ll survive.”

He rolled his eyes but sat down next to you, his hand instinctively resting on your knee. The gesture didn’t go unnoticed.

JJ snorted. “Look at him. Acting like he belongs here.”

“JJ,” you warned.

Rafe tensed but didn’t rise to the bait, his thumb rubbing slow circles against your skin. “Nice to see you too, Maybank.”

“Alright, everybody chill,” Sarah interjected, sitting cross-legged on the blanket. She gave Rafe a small smile. “Thanks for coming, Rafe. Even though I know you’re out of your element.”

Rafe raised an eyebrow. “You could say that.”

“Just don’t kill the vibe,” JJ added, plopping down on the other side of you.

The tension was thick at first. Rafe sat quietly, his usual cocky demeanor dimmed in the face of the Pogues’ scrutiny. You felt the weight of his discomfort, and it made you squeeze his hand reassuringly. He looked at you, his blue eyes softening as if to say, I’m doing this for you.

As the night wore on, the tension began to ease. JJ’s antics and John B’s storytelling had everyone laughing, even Rafe cracking a smile here and there.

“Alright, I have to ask,” Kie said, looking directly at Rafe. “How does a Kook prince like you end up with a Pogue queen?”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Kie—”

“No, it’s fine,” Rafe said, surprising you. He leaned back on his hands, glancing at you with a small smirk. “I guess I just like a challenge.”

JJ scoffed, but Kie rolled her eyes. “Seriously, though.”

Rafe’s expression softened as he looked at you. “She’s different. She doesn’t care about any of the crap I used to think mattered. She calls me out when I’m being an idiot, but she also makes me want to be better.”

The Pogues fell silent, exchanging surprised looks. Even JJ looked slightly less annoyed.

“She’s good at that,” Sarah said, smiling at you.

You felt your cheeks heat up, but before you could respond, JJ pointed at Rafe with his beer bottle. “Alright, Cameron, you’re scoring some points. But don’t think I’m not watching you.”

“Duly noted,” Rafe replied dryly, earning a laugh from John B.

As the night wound down, you and Rafe wandered a little farther down the beach, away from the firelight and the laughter of your friends. The ocean waves crashed gently against the shore, and the cool breeze tugged at your hair.

“See? That wasn’t so bad,” you said, bumping his shoulder playfully.

He huffed a laugh, wrapping an arm around your waist. “They hate me.”

“They don’t hate you,” you assured him. “They’re just…protective.”

He stopped walking, turning to face you. “And you’re worth protecting.”

You rolled your eyes, but the sincerity in his gaze made your heart skip. He stepped closer, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“I mean it,” he said softly. “I know I don’t always fit into your world, but I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure I do. For you.”

Your breath hitched as his thumb traced your cheek, his touch warm and familiar. “Rafe…”

“I love you,” he murmured, his voice barely audible over the waves.

Before you could respond, he leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, as if he was trying to pour every unspoken word into it. His hands settled on your waist, pulling you closer, and you melted against him, the rest of the world fading away.

When you finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Alright,” you said, your voice teasing but soft. “You’re forgiven for being awkward.”

“Awkward?” he repeated, feigning offense. “I was charming.”

“You were stiff,” you corrected with a laugh.

He grinned, kissing you again, this time quicker but no less sweet. “You bring me around them enough, and I’ll charm them too.”

“Let’s not push it,” you teased, lacing your fingers with his as you started walking back toward the fire.

In the distance, you could hear JJ yelling, “Hey! No PDA where we can see it!”

Rafe groaned, but you just laughed, pulling him closer. He might not be a Pogue, but tonight, he’d proven he was yours—and that was more than enough.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

[beomiracles]

𝓟𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇 𝓒𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌

𝓓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝓔𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐘 ⸝⸝ In Strawberryland, where all the people are happy, and a little fruity; Little Apricot finds herself drawn to the only thing the village seems to resent. — For in a lonesome house by the far end of the valley, where the sun never seems to shine, and the grass never seems to grow, lives a boy who was once as peachy as one could be.

Nowadays, he's grown somewhat of a hermit, and should his sharp glares not be enough, his harsh words certainly will be when he fends off any visitors that may dare come his way. No one knows what happened to the boy. Though one thing was clear; every peach Beomgyu touched quickly turned rotten. ⸝⸝

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ wc, 16k ་༘࿐

𝓹airings peach!beomgyu x little apricot!reader (f) 𝔀arnings heavy grumpy x sunshine trope, fairytale themed (kinda goes in threes, at least in the beginning), mean beomgyu, naive/gullible reader, longing/yearning, unprotected sex, creampie, little apricots cum is described as a jam-like texture, cum eating, oral (f. rec), overstimulation, beomgyu is fuzzy (cause peach fuzz), lot of kissing, loads of sexual tension..

#serene adds ✎.. hello!! I'm so so excited for this fic you guys seriously have no idea, imagine my current excitement and then bump it up 100x! I've worked so hard on this fic, but most of it felt so natural when I was writing, everything kinda just flowed? I hope that shines through!! ahh, and I can never shut up so here we are at 16k when my target was 7k but oh well.. oh but I would love to hear your thoughts on this!! merry christmas!! consider this my gift :3

THIS FIC IS A PART OF AN EVENT, GET REDIRECTED TO THE EVENTPOST !

The sun rises early in Strawberryland, its warm rays casting the plump little houses in an orange glow. It’s quiet, for the colorful meadow has yet to wake up. The birds are still sleeping soundly, the deers hidden in the treeline as they huddle close to one another. All that can be heard is the soft rippling of clear water as it runs along a small stream. Everyone is asleep, all except for one.  — Little Apricot rises just as the sun, and she does so with excitement. 

Pots and silverware clank together, creating a chaotic atmosphere in your tiny kitchen as you shuffle about. The soft hum of a foreign melody dances across your lips, your hands working diligently as they alter between stirring the jam that was cooking on the stove, and onto unscrewing the lids of the many jars you’d prepared. An outsider would think something big was coming, that this might’ve been a special day indeed. 

And it was. For Little Apricot at least. 

“Thirty-seven, thirty-eight, thirty-nine, forty…” You point to each neatly secured jar, filled to the brim with creamy orange jam. They’re topped with a matching ribbon, tied nicely around the plaid and orange lid. And they’re now all ready to be handed out. — “Forty-nine…” You trail off, gaze lingering by the last jar, “Fifty…” 

With pursed lips, your hands hover above it, debating on whether to shove it in the already full basket alongside the rest. In the end you do. And with your bright orange coat pulled over your body, you step outside, letting the warm sun caress the soft skin of your cheeks, causing a smile to spread across your face. Today was a good day. 

Your steps are light and cherry as you skip down the cobbled road that takes you through Strawberry village. The happy song of the melody you sang rings out into the air, and you only tune it down to a soft hum as you approach the first door of the day. — With a gentle knock, you wait, swinging back and forth on two legs as you balance the heavy basket in your hands. 

The blue door to the little hut swings open and you’re greeted by a mess of hair as bright and blue as the sky itself. Blueberry Kai greets you with a smile, his sapphire like eyes sparkling in the sun as they land on the basket in your hands. “Hi Little Apricot!” He almost sings the words and you refuse a giggle as you coyly avert your gaze. 

“Hi Kai, I brought you one of these..” You reach for one of the jam filled jars, handing the boy it as you await his verdict. — Kai’s smile widens as he takes the jar from you, and it seems small in his large hands. “You’re too good to us Apricot”, he says, though doesn’t refuse your kindness but rather thanks you with the promise of bringing a fresh blueberry pie in the following days. 

You continue like that, happily skipping down the road that looped around the village. And for each house you stopped by, the grin on your lips only grew, as did the warmth on your face and the love that filled your chest. Gradually your basket emptied and got lighter, and once you’d delivered Lemon Drop Soobin his jar, all that remained was one. 

The bright and orange little jar looks lonely as it rocks back and forth by the bottom of your now comically large basket, and with a small frown you glance toward the forest line. “Hmpf”, you huff, shaking your head sharply before turning on your heel and marching toward the dark trees. You had made enough jam for everyone in this village, and you’d make sure to deliver it as well. 

..Suppose you had underestimated the dark and menacing nature of the woods just slightly. But it wasn’t like the forest in Strawberryland was always this…scary, it just so happened to be the part where one individual resided. The youngest of the village speculated that his presence is what caused the nature around him to turn dark, that his vile and evil ways killed everything around him. You didn’t believe such nonsense, yet you found yourself gripping the basket tighter in your hands as you carefully trudged forward. 

You’ve been walking for a good twenty minutes, following a sparse dirt road as you peer through the thick tree trunks, when a small cottage suddenly floats into vision. Your heart beat immediately picks up, thumping loudly against your ribcage as you with hesitant steps approach. — The small hut looks just like the others of the village. Or at least, it used to. 

The white paint on its sides had been dirtied by nature's force, vines climbed the walls and tangled around the windowsills where the peachy paint had chipped. The roof was a round and once warm shade, though now, it looked just as lifeless as the rest of the house. You wondered how anyone could possibly live like this. 

A small wooden sign is shoved into the ground, it is just as battered as the rest of the place and reads the words, “Keep Out!” A flicker of uncertainty passes you by, but you ignore it. It was probably just something he had put up to scare any kids that dared come this way despite their mother’s warnings.

As you heave the steps up his front door, you try to remember what he’d looked like. You don’t think you have seen him for quite some time now. For he only ventured into town when he needed something, and judging by the state of his small cottage, it had been a while. Still, you figured that he deserved a jar of jam just as much as anyone else. It wasn’t like he was a criminal or anything of the sort…He was just, well… Him. 

The knock you deliver to his door is just as soft and cheerful as the others had been. Though this time you have to remind yourself to smile, it didn’t come naturally when your heart was palpitating at a near alarming rate. — You wait another minute, nearly two, but there’s still no answer. With a small frown you try your luck again.

Another soft knock. 

“Hello? Is anybody there?” You call out, the shaky edge to your voice coming off a lot stronger than you’d hoped. But you hadn't come all the way out here for nothing, and you would be damned if you didn’t get this last jar off your hands. A few moments later, you hear it, the soft rustling of something, of someone, moving on the other side. 

And much to your delight, the door swings open mere moments later. Though the sight you’re met with does little to ease the agitated beating of your heart. A tangled mess of unkempt dark brown hair, paired with fierce and menacing eyes and a nasty scowl that stretches across his pale lips. — Peach Beomgyu looked ready to beat you bloody. 

Your words get caught in your throat, and as much as you try to swallow, not an ounce of saliva will go down. Clearing your throat, you readjust the basket in your hands, wordlessly extending it in front of you. Beomgyu’s gaze falls on the lonesome jar before snapping back up to you. His brows furrow, twisting his face into even more of an accusing look as his eyes narrow on you. 

“What’s the meaning of this?” His voice has got a clean cut edge to it, sharp and impeccably demanding. Suddenly, your usual lines all diminish into nothing, your brain melting into a pile of jam as your mouth goes dry. “I… I brought you some-” — “I can see what it is, do you take me for an idiot?” He snaps, effortlessly cutting you off as he shoves your basket back with a look of sheer distaste. 

Your mouth opens and closes, like that of a goldfish mindlessly swimming around in its bowl. “Y-Yes but you see I”, you swallow, “I made it myself.” And though you knew your words to be true, they were hardly convincing as you stumbled over them. Beomgyu’s brows rose on his forehead, but he did not look surprised, merely lightly interested. You counted the win anyway. 

With trembling arms you extend him the basket once more, encouraging him to retrieve the jar. But he only looked at it as though it would jump up and bite him in the face. “Well you’ve wasted your time then”, he grunts, averting his gaze as he urges you off his porch. You won’t budge, feet clamming to the old wooden boards as you stubbornly present the jar for him. 

Beomgyu scoffs, running a hand through his dark hair, and you’re surprised when his fingers don't catch onto the mess of strands, in fact the brown locks looked almost…soft. You shake your head, blinking twice as you pick the jar up, shoving it against his hard chest as you peer over at him with a determined expression, your lips pressed together in a firm line. 

“I’m sure you can reconsider”, you probe, much to little avail as Beomgyu’s scowl only grows. You were sure you’d overstepped for good this time. — But he doesn’t shout, nor does he tell you to get the hell away from his house. He chuckles. And though it’s far from an actual laugh, it’s something other than the tired and displeased groans. It makes your stomach flutter in an unfamiliar way. 

You almost expect him to wipe a half-hearted tear from his eye. To maybe condole you on your gullibleness or your overbearing kindness. Well, and a small part of you hopes he might actually accept the jar. — He does none of those things, instead he takes a small, almost unnoticeable step back. And before you know it, the door is slammed shut in your face, leaving you alone in the dark and menacing forest once more. 

With a petulant huff, you glance toward the window by the door, just in time to see him drawing the peach colored curtains in front of the glass, blocking him from your view. “Bastard”, you mutter as you step off the porch, kneeling down in front of it to place the jar down, “I’ll just put you right here…” 

As you trudge down the dirt path leading from his cottage and back to the village, you can feel his lingering gaze on you, peeking through the light and peachy curtains. You smile to yourself, feeling accomplished despite his refusal, for you did not take his cruel words personally. — At the end of the day an angry person will always be the angriest with himself. 

⸝⸝

It quickly becomes somewhat of a habit for you to make fifty jars instead of forty-nine. At first you had told yourself that the number was just much more satisfactory in itself, and that it was easier to make five full batches rather than four and then some. But you could only lie to yourself for so long. And when you find yourself on Beomgyu’s doorstep a third time in the span of two weeks, you know that the extra jar is more than just a number. 

He doesn’t answer you when you call for him, but you know he’s there, listening, even though he doesn't want to, because he can’t help himself. And each time, you place the little jar on his porch. The orange jam is a stark contrast to the dull forest all around, and is easily spotted. — You keep returning, not because you fancied being ignored outside his shut door, or because you enjoyed the muddy walk to his little house. But because whenever you returned, the jar from last time would be gone. 

And when you for a fifth time find yourself on his porch, swaying back and forth as you hum along to a quiet melody, you’re surprised when the door actually opens. He’s frowning, lips tugged into what you presumed to be a permanent scowl. You wondered if he ever smiled. — Beomgyu gives you a quick one over, his gaze undoubtedly lingering by the jar in your basket. 

He clears his throat, “What the hell are you still doing here?” His question catches you off guard and you blink as your attention returns to the present moment. “Huh?” Is all you can muster, the response coming out as a question of your own. — Beomgyu scoffs, rolling his eyes as if he’d just asked you the most obvious thing. “You’ve been out here for twenty minutes, what the fuck do you want?”

Twenty minutes? Had it really been that long.. You would admit that you usually lingered for a minute or two before placing the little jar and returning back home. It wasn’t like you were waiting for him, well… You might have been. Suppose that today your mind had travelled a little too far, even for your own liking. But to think that you’d spent a whole twenty minutes in front of his door, lost in thoughts.. 

“I… Well I..” You bite the inside of your cheek, your brows creasing into a confused frown. You open your mouth to speak, but what comes out is not a coherent response, rather… “Your hair is brown.”

Beomgyu looks taken aback for once, his own frown deepening tenfold as he regards you with confusion. “So?” He retorts, folding his arms across his chest. — You don’t think it had ever occurred to you, but the unkempt and wild mess atop his head was a dark shade of brown, nearly black. It suited him, sure, it made his already sharp features and dark eyes stand out even more. But you couldn’t help but wonder why… 

All of the people in Strawberryland had cheerful and bright colors. You thought of Blueberry Kai’s bright blue hair, Lemon Drop Soobin’s warm yellow and Yeonjun Sorbet’s striking red. Yet Peach Beomgyu had…brown hair? It didn’t make any sense. — Beomgyu looks almost insulted as he waits for you to respond, impatiently tapping his foot against the threshold. 

“Isn’t your hair supposed to be…peach colored?” You say, pointing a curious finger to the mess on his head. Beomgyu frowns, reaching a hand up to run through the dark locks as he waves you off, huffing in dismay. “What’s it to you?” He tsk’s, his attention flickering down to the jam in your basket once more, and only when his gaze meets yours do you register the silent question behind his eyes. 

“O-Oh, right I brought you more jam!” You force a small smile, the least you could do was be polite. You were determined to make friends with him, one way or the other. And as you hand him the glass container, Beomgyu takes it. It’s a huge first step, and you feel your heart swelling at the action. He twists the jar between his fingers, studying it like it might explode on him any second now. 

At last, he gives a small hum of approval. — “It’s good, right?” Your question comes out too cherry, already celebrating your small victory. Beomgyu quickly shoots that bird down with a sneer. “I’m being polite, there’s a difference.” He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, his eyes taking over your hopeful frame once more. “Though I’m sure you couldn’t tell the difference even if you wanted to.” 

The door slams shut on your nose. 

Suddenly, the forest is cold again, the heat falls from your face, the fire coursing within you being drowned out by a bucket of cold water. Well, there goes that. You wait by his door for another five minutes, but the small cottage is silent. The curtains are drawn, shutting you out, just like he did everybody else. 

With heavy steps you climb off the porch, cringing at how the old and withered boards creaked under your weight. Your sigh echoes against the tall trees that loom above you, and you slowly make your way down the muddy path. You had noticed on your second visit that flowers didn’t seem to grow here, any sign of vegetation seemingly drowned out by the nearly unbearing anger and resentment that lingered in these woods. 

Had Beomgyu really caused all of that? 

You think back to your brief encounter with him, with Beomgyu. But no matter how hard you tried, your mind seemed to get caught on his brown hair, you couldn’t quite shake it off. You only knew one other brown-haired individual here, and that was Gingerbread Taehyun. But Beomgyu and Taehyun were far from alike, and you shake your head once more. 

Something was wrong, very clearly so. For the way Beomgyu had disregarded the matter, shoving it aside like it pained him to be reminded of… You longed to know what could have caused it. And you find yourself imagining a different Beomgyu, a Beomgyu that smiled. With light and peachy hair, a pink blush coating his soft cheeks, warming his pale face up. You imagine a Beomgyu with dimples that dented into his skin hard from laughter. 

You imagine a happy Beomgyu. 

The fantasy makes your steps return to their usual light skip, and by the time you re-enter the lively village, you feel happy again. 

⸝⸝

With your basket filled once more, you head down the cobbled road, taking you around Strawberry town. Today you were in a particularly good mood. You don’t know if it had to do with meeting Blueberry Kai out by his berry bushes, or if it had to do with the little rabbit you saw in your garden this morning. But you were determined to make this day a perfect one. 

In fact, you were in such a joyous mood that the dark clouds crowding the village did not bother you as you went knocking on each and every door. For each smile you received, for each jar you handed out, the love beating within your heart only seemed to grow. —  When you turn off the large road, and venture onto the muddy path taking you deep within the forest, you’re filled to the brim with love. And if there was one person in Strawberry village that needed it, it was Peach Beomgyu. 

You think you’re about halfway there when the first droplet lands on the tip of your nose. The cold water makes you frown as it slides down your face, catching on your bottom lip. Sticking your tongue out to taste it, the sweet flavor fills your mouth. After that another one follows, then another one, and another one. It’s not long before rainfall is pouring down over you, clinging to the leaves and splashing against the forest floor in dramatic effect. 

Blinking the droplets from your eyes, you scurry forward, pulling your coat tighter around yourself as you hurry. Mud clams to your orange shoes, dirtying them in disgraceful shades of brown. But you carry on, relief flooding your chest as the familiar little house floats into vision. You do not stop to consider who’s door you were actually knocking on when you slam your fist against the weathered wood. 

Today, you have no time to wait outside for another five minutes, you have no time to bicker with the grumpy man over his doorstep and you certainly don’t want to turn on your heel and endure the unpleasant walk home. There was little that could diskindle your spirits, but rain and mud were definitely two of them. 

Much to your immense relief and surprise, the door glides open a mere minute later, revealing a confused looking Beomgyu. The smile stretching across your lips only seems to make his scowl grow. Yet you persist, giving him your widest and most pleading eyes as you silently beg for him to let you inside. — Beomgyu’s harsh gaze flickers from your wet coat, clinging to your body and the adamant look on your face before shifting to the heavy rain that battered against his porch. 

With a displeased groan he steps to the side, allowing you to skip inside the small cottage. Your excitement as you enter his home is followed up by a small squeal, your gaze darting around as you take in the unfamiliar surroundings. — Beomgyu’s house was unlike anything you had ever imagined, not to say that you had spent a deliberate amount of time trying to figure out how he lived, you had merely been…Curious, so to say. 

From the peachy curtains to the matching sets of creamy pink pillows that adorned his small sofa, everything seemed to follow a peachy theme. The fireplace sparking in the middle of the room draws your attention and you quickly find yourself huddling in front of it as you rub your cold hands together. 

Your quiet ‘woah’ as you pull your orange coat from your wet body rings out into the silent house. The kitchen by the corner looks to have been used recently, a small pot of something placed on the stove. Amazed by the fact that Peach Beomgyu lived like any other resident in Strawberry village, your jaw hangs open as you remain frozen in place. 

Somewhere behind you, Beomgyu emerges from the hallway. He stops a good distance from you, leaning against one of the crowded bookshelves pushed up alongside the wall, his arms folded across his chest. You send him a bright smile, “Thank you”, you say, not knowing how else to show your gratitude for his hospitality. 

Beomgyu rolls his eyes, a small scoff passing his lips as he averts his gaze, his dark eyes lingering on something you couldn’t quite catch. A brief silence follows, it’s almost awkward.. You’re not exactly sure what to say, what he would appreciate hearing, if anything even suited those pesky ears of his. 

So you hum, quietly rocking back and forth on your feet as you glance at the decorations above the fireplace. They were nothing fancy, and most of the tiny figurines looked old, perhaps he’d inherited them. Come to think of it, you don’t remember ever hearing anything about a family member of his. The thought sadeness you for reasons you cannot understand. It wasn’t like Beomgyu was opposed to the solitary life he lived, he’d chosen it for himself, hadn’t he? 

Yet you can’t help but purse your lips at the thought of living like this, no matter how cozy his quaint little cottage was, it still lacked the warmth of love. — “It is a lovely home you’ve got”, you say, trying your best to show interest in the way he’d decorated the space. But Beomgyu doesn’t seem to buy into the mundane compliment. He merely shrugs, letting out a small grunt as his dark eyes flicker back to you. 

“Why were you out in the rain?” It’s the first time he’s ever asked you an actual question, the first time he’d even seemed moderately interested in anything that regarded you. Your smile only widens, and you can see the way his face twists in distaste at your ever so cheerful attitude. “Well why do you think? I was delivering jam!” The exclamation immediately makes you jump as you come to your senses and you reach for the basket you had discarded on the floor. 

The small jar is wet and you wipe it against the sleeve of your shirt before skipping over to him in order to hand him it. Beomgyu’s arms remain stubbornly crossed as his gaze flits between the orange jam and your hopeful grin. With a small groan he relents and plucks it from your waiting hand, shoving it onto the shelf next to him as he averts his attention elsewhere. 

You wondered if your presence made him uncomfortable. Judging by the way he stood, the greater portion of his body turned as far away from you as possible, and his jaw clenched, you would guess it did. Then again, was there anyone Peach Beomgyu liked? You did not take his grumpy demeanor or his shortcut responses personally. Still, there was an unmistakable opportunity at hand, and you would be a fool not to take it. 

“Mind if I take a seat?” You ask, but you’re already approaching the small couch. Beomgyu’s lip twitches, but he gives a small nod, his arms returning to their crossed position over his chest. His sofa is oddly comfortable, allowing you to sink into the cushion as you lean back slightly. The warmth of the fire caresses your cold face, slowly melting the layer of metaphorical ice that had built around you. No amount of fire would be able to melt the harsh ice block surrounding Beomgyu, you thought with a small grin. 

He remains unmoving and unspeaking, quietly watching you from his spot by the corner of the room. You did not insult him on his lack of manners, he had actually allowed you inside his home even as you showed up unannounced, perhaps that was more than enough. — Your attention falls on your muddy shoes and a pang of guilt flares through you. “Oh, sorry, I should’ve taken these off!” 

Beomgyu opens his mouth to speak but is quickly interrupted as you kick the pointy orange heels off your feet, scurrying toward the door as you place them right in front of it. “Sorry, I’ll clean it up, don't worry!” You say as you dart for his kitchen. Quickly disoriented, you tug open drawers and pull cabinet doors in search of anything to clean the stain you had left on his floors. “Where do you keep your towels?” You ask, so caught up in trying to resolve the mess you’d unintentionally caused that you didn’t even notice him creeping up behind you. 

“Here”, he says as he hands you a peach colored rag. You freeze, for his voice came from just above your ear, his chest nearly pressed against your back. The scent of fresh peaches made you nearly drowsy as you blink before gingerly accepting the cloth from him, trying your hardest to ignore the way your fingers brushed against one another, the tingle that the soft fuzz coating his skin left. “I… Thanks”, you coyly mumble, desperately wishing he wouldn’t catch on to the stammer of your voice as you round him in the small kitchen, quickly slipping away from his intoxicating presence. 

What was that.. You think to yourself, brows knitted together in a confused frown as you find yourself on the floor, scrubbing the muddy stains away. The sounds of his approaching footsteps make your eyes widen, and you refuse to turn your head in his direction. — “It’s really not necessary”, he mutters, the usual grumpiness to his voice replaced with something akin to guilt. But you firmly shake your head, scrubbing even harder at the old wood. “It’s fine, no problem! I caused it!” You chirp, ignoring his small huff as you continue to clean. 

When you’re done you gingerly rise to your feet, clutching the now dirty rag between your fingers as you bite the inside of your cheek. Beomgyu reaches for it again, but you quickly pull back, you don’t think you could bear feeling his skin against yours a second time. “I’ll put it away!” You quickly say, plastering on the biggest of grins you could muster, “Where do you want it?” 

Beomgyu’s expression is unreadable as he studies you for a moment. It looks almost as if he’s about to say something, but he stops himself, shaking his head once as he points down the hall. Quickly nodding, you follow in that direction, the sounds of your feet padding against the floor ringing in your ears. 

Finally away from his intense gaze, you exhale a sigh of relief as you turn to relocate yourself. The dark hallway had led you to what you presumed to be a small washroom, racks of clothes crowded the vast majority of the space, and you found a small sink as well. You place the dirty cloth in the hamper before turning to head back. But before you can even get as much as another step in, a door to your left catches your attention. It’s slightly ajar, letting on to the bed inside. 

Quickly glancing down the hall once more, you dare a small peek inside. Beomgyu’s bedroom did not match the rest of the house. It lacked all the peachy colors, instead it was crowded from head to toe in… books. Sure the bookshelves in the living room had caught your attention earlier, but just as the old figurines, you’d figured that it was something he’d inherited. Now you can’t help but wonder if Beomgyu actually enjoyed literature. While the prospect did indeed seem odd, it wasn’t entirely out of place either. There was only so much entertainment out here..

But before you get the chance to investigate further, the sounds of floorboards creaking pulls you from your brief trance. Sharply turning on your heel, you make your way back into the living room where Beomgyu was waiting for you. — The rain was still pouring down outside, and you had little clue of just how long you were going to be stuck here. 

As your gaze falls on Beomgyu, you feel your breath getting caught in your throat. You don’t know what it was, but something had changed. Something that made you so impeccably drawn to him in a way you could not fathom. You tried to reason with yourself, you tried to shift the blame onto the weather, onto the clumsy mistake of waltzing inside his home without as much as a second thought. 

But as your eyes linger by his dark ones, the narrowed gaze he still held, you find that it’s none of those things. Suddenly you know why you keep returning to this small hut, why you bother with the twenty minute walk back and forth, why you face rejection on his doorstep each time. — You felt empathy for him, perhaps even pity. You pitied Beomgyu, the lonely boy who lived all alone out in the forest, with no one to come visit. 

And perhaps that was naive of you. To even think that he cared about something as trivial as a bit of company. Yet you couldn’t find it in you to take his mean and cruel demeanor to heart. Because no matter how harsh the bark was, he never seemed to bite. He had let you inside his home, in spite of your persistent nagging on his porch for the past weeks. He hadn’t minded when you dirtied his floors, and even now, he didn’t seem to want you to leave. 

So were you really that naive to think that what you were doing was right? That what you were doing was appreciated by him, even if he didn’t show it. You want to think so. 

“Do you want me to make you tea?” You chirp, breaking the thick silence that had filled the small living room. Beomgyu cocks an eyebrow at you, but merely shrugs. You weren’t even sure if he had the ingredients to make tea, you had just assumed… It was something everyone had, no? 

Ignoring his nonchalant response, you walk past him and into the small little kitchen once more. It wasn’t at all like your big one at home, but then again, you doubted that he spent his days making fifty jars worth of apricot jam. — He doesn’t follow you, and part of you is relieved. His absence allows you to work casually as you still tried to figure out what about him had made you so nervous all of a sudden. 

You take your time as you bring out a pot, setting it down on the stove as you fill it with water from the tap. Once it’s slowly boiling, you rummage around to find yourselves a pair of cups to drink from. Pulling drawers upon drawers open, you cough as the smell of dust invades your senses, some of these looked to have been kept shut for years. 

As a last resort, you tug the cabinet door above the fridge open. And your eyes immediately widen as they fall on the empty jars stacked inside. All of them are cleaned out, the glass reflecting in the dim light of the kitchen. Your gaze lingers by the orange lids, and the silk ribbons you’d tied around them still intact. A small smile tugs at your lips, your heart warming at the sight. He even kept the jars. 

Quickly slamming the cabinet shut when he approaches, you turn to him with a flushed expression. “Where are your cups?” You squeak, the surprise in your tone evident, not having expected him to reappear so soon. — Beomgyu leans against the doorframe, his arms folded across his chest as he nods toward the one drawer you had yet to open. Mentally slapping yourself, you turn to it with a tight smile as you pull it open. 

As you prepare the herbs for the tea and check on the water, you try to make plain conversation. You ask him about the weather, about what he does during the days or if he has any upcoming plans. You find that he’s a very concise individual, and you’re never able to pull more than a short sentence from him as he begrudgingly responds to your persistent interrogation. 

Still, he stays in the kitchen until you finish pouring the cups. Whether that was because he didn’t trust you around his house or because he wanted to be there, remained unknown to you. 

The tea is boiling hot against your tongue, yet you insistently bring it to your lips, taking small and hesitant sips as you desperately avoid his gaze. For someone so short of words, he seemed to have no problem staring at you. You told yourself that it might have to do with his lack of social interaction. But his unyielding gaze slowly chipped away at your resolve, making you all the more anxious as you glanced out the window, wishing for the rain to let up soon. 

It still felt so surreal, standing in Peach Beomgyu’s kitchen, drinking tea from his cups, as if this was just another Thursday afternoon. But his prolonged silence made the growing tension between you feel anything but mundane and ordinary. Did he really not have anything to say? You had tried every approach imaginable, there was nothing that would get him to utter more than a small hum. 

As your eyes peer out the window, and over what you imagined to once have been a garden, a new question surfaces. — Your attention flickers back to him, still by the door frame, he’s gripping the cup in one hand, barely having sipped his tea, he seems far too preoccupied with watching you. 

“Don’t you grow any peaches?” You ask, letting your head fall to the side as you take your turn in studying him. Beomgyu’s unreadable expression morphs into a small frown, and he ponders your question for a moment. When a whole minute passes, you think he might not reply at all, it wouldn’t be completely unexpected, for he had little manners as it was. But then he suddenly shifts his weight over to his other leg, readjusting his hold on the cup. 

“No.” 

He states firmly, finally bringing the peachy mug to his lips as he takes a sip of his tea. It’s your turn to frown, your gaze dropping to the brown mixture swirling in your own cup as you bite the inside of your cheek. “Why not?” — Everyone in Strawberryland tended to their fruits, so why didn’t he? 

Beomgyu shrugs, appearing more than disinterested in the conversation taking place. “I don’t like them”, he says, the nonchalance in his tone taking you aback as your eyes snap to him. Don’t like them? But he was Peach Beomgyu, was he not supposed to love peaches? You want to ask him what he means by that, what made him so resentful of the one thing he represented. But the closed off look on his face made you waver. You did not want to blindly push and prod at buttons which you had no clue of. 

You remain silent, awkwardly sipping your tea as you avoid his burning gaze. 

And as your cups emptied out, the rain stopped. 

⸝⸝

Peach Beomgyu did not like visitors. In fact, he detested them. Much so that he had gone to the quite extreme length of putting up warning signs in front of his house. And while the signs did their job at keeping nosey little kids out, they seemed futile on that persistent ball of joy that would skip past them as she neared his cottage. 

Beomgyu could not understand what made Little Apricot come back over and over again. He could not understand what kept you in such a jolly mood and he could certainly not fathom the reasoning behind the little jars of jam you would leave behind. — It irked him in a way that was beyond explainable. And every three or four days, he would be pulled from whatever book he was reading by two curt knocks to his door. 

Internally groaning he would shake his head, ignoring the fierce ray of sunshine on the other side. But you just wouldn’t leave. The sounds of you humming along to a light melody would slip through the cracks of his shut door, it would creep inside his house and dance across him, taunting him with its sickly sweetness. Beomgyu would swat it away, pressing his nose further into his book as he desperately tried to ignore any signs of your presence. 

You would always leave after a few minutes, taking your light and cherry song with you as you did. And Beomgyu would always sigh out in relief, ignoring the small tug at his chest when the silence enveloped him once more. — He would get up, carefully pull the curtains to the side as he watched your bright orange coat disappear into the thick forest of trees. 

Then he would open his door, stopping in his tracks as his gaze flickered down to the little jar you’d left behind. When it first occurred he’d slammed the door shut. Ignoring the jar for a good twenty minutes before ripping the door open again with a frustrated huff, finding the jam still there, its bright orange color stinging his eyes. 

For some reason, Beomgyu had picked it up, he’d turned it in his hands and opened the lid. The creamy jam smelled just like you, the soft and sweet aroma of apricot prickling his nose in a most unfamiliar way. And he’d taken the jar inside, stubbornly ignoring it for a whole day before he finally caved. — It tasted just as delicious as it smelled, as delicious as you smelled. 

Beomgyu finished the jar in half a day, and when it was all empty, he found himself staring at the clean glass with a confused frown. It was just jam. He scoffed as he shoved the empty jar into a cabinet, blatantly ignoring the fact that he had yet to throw it away, telling himself that he might find use for it in the future.   

When you returned mere days later, he ignored you, yet he found another jar, just like the first on his porch. It would go on like that, and for some reason, Beomgyu found himself listening after that sickeningly cheerful melody you always sang. And everytime you knocked on his door, his fingers would itch to reach out and open it, for reasons he could not understand, and did not want to. 

But on your seventh return, you did not give your usual curt knocks, you did not hum along to any melody at all. At first, Beomgyu didn't even believe it to be you. But as he opened the door, and found Little Apricot on his porch, drenched from head to toe, he found himself unable to move. Not even when you pleaded with him so nicely did it register what you were asking. 

And suddenly you were inside his home, the place he treasured so dearly and had sealed off to the rest of the world. Yet you had managed to worm your way inside, and the feeling that bloomed within his chest was like no other. — You were everywhere, the same sickeningly sweet scent of your apricot jam now filled his entire home. It clung to the walls, soaked in the carpets and dusted off on the furniture. No matter how hard he tried he couldn’t block it out, and you occupied his mind and body fully. It confused him. 

You quickly made yourself at home, and Beomgyu noted that you were just as dutiful about any other task as you were your jam. Rushing about even though you barely found your way, tugging cabinet doors and pulling drawers open as you made the two of you tea. — He doesn’t know why he lets your eager hands wander over his belongings, why he drinks the tea you make him or why he even bothers to answer any of your invasive and prying questions. 

He feels nearly dizzy in your presence, it’s a strange and uncanny feeling, a feeling he hasn’t felt in years, if ever. And Beomgyu doesn't know if he should fear the warm and fuzzy feeling that spreads within his chest as he looks at you, or if he should give in to it completely. Though if he did, he feared that you wouldn’t ever look at him the same. 

Oh but Beomgyu likes the way you look at him. With big and hopeful eyes. You don’t seem to understand just how messed up he is, or perhaps you do, and in that case you had to be stupid to ignore it. Naive. That was probably the right word. Gullible, sweet, and far too kind for your own good. Did you not know not to trust everything you see? He shakes his head at the thought. 

Still, there’s an odd feeling of comfort in the way you embrace him, with your kind words and quiet care as you deliver him jam. He doesn’t want to let go of that feeling just yet, though if he ever tries to pursue it, he thinks you might crumple in front of him. — It has him torn. And as he lies in bed that night, the smell of apricots linger around him, pressing in on him with a demanding force. 

He groans as he turns over, burying his face in the pillows. But all he can see is you, your bright orange coat, and he can smell you, you’re everywhere, plaguing his body and mind. He twists uncomfortably, stubbornly ignoring the heat pooling in his stomach, refusing to let his hands wander as he tries to block out any thought of you. 

Beomgyu wishes that you won’t come by his house again. He knows he won’t be able to stop himself if you do. 

⸝⸝

The soft knock to your door makes you tear yourself from the empty jars you were currently wiping down, discarding them on the countertop as you make your way over to the entrance. Your steps are light and cherry as you skip over, fingers twisting the lock, an excited grin already plastered across your face. — “Blueberry Kai!” You squeal when you’re met with the sight of the blue haired boy, his tall frame looming over you as he gives a shy nod. 

“Hi Little Apricot!” He says, his face flushing in an adorable shade of blue. Your gaze drifts to his hands, clutching a blue box tightly. “I uh..” He sends you a coy smile as he extends the box, “Got you this.. As a thank you, for you know.. All you do.” 

It’s with wide eyes that you happily accept the gift, feeling its weight in your hands as you gently pluck the lid. Your attention falls on the freshly baked blueberry pie and the sweet aroma immediately fills your nostrils. With a wide grin, you glance up at him, “You’re the best Kai!” 

The two of you settle out in your garden, amidst the many apricot trees you had planted, all blooming with ripe and orange fruits. Hungrily wolfing down the pie Kai had brought, you barely make time for conversation as you focus on savoring the flavors on your tongue. And when you for the fifth time exclaim, “It’s delicious!”, Kai can’t help but chuckle. 

Once the wave of desire has cooled off, and your stomach starts to feel full, you lean back in your chair as you regard him with a questioning expression. It looked like something was bothering him, for his usual lopsided smile was nowhere to be found, and his brows furrowed across his forehead. — “Is something up?” You ask him as you wipe your lips on the corner of a napkin, gently placing it down as you twist in your seat. 

Kai’s head snaps in your direction, and he gives a sheepish look, as if you’d caught his drift of mind. “Yeah I just..” He trails off, as if unsure of how to word himself properly. You wait, your legs swinging back and forth as your bare feet drag through the wild grass, the feeling tickling your sensitive skin.

“Have you been seeing Peach Beomgyu?” 

The question was not one you’d expected, and you feel your face heat up as you turn your gaze back to the blue haired boy. “I deliver him jams, just like everyone else!” You say, plastering on an even wider grin as you try and brush past the topic. But Kai doesn’t let it go, his brows creasing even further as he leans forward. “Why? I mean, it’s not like he’s done anything for you.. And I’m not saying I don’t think it’s kind of you”, he takes a breath, slowly letting it go. “But what if he’s just using you, Apricot?”  

Your frown makes him immediately continue as he says; “I mean, he’s not exactly friendly.. I’m just afraid you’ll end up getting taken advantage of, your kindness is something many of us take for granted…” — His words made you think, your chin jutted out as your mind traveled back to the visits you’d paid Beomgyu. You recall the many times he’d slammed the door in your face, and the times in which he hadn’t opened it at all. Suppose Kai might have a point… 

But you also remember that rainy day not too long ago. You remember the way his gaze lingered by you, the way your heart fluttered at his mere presence. It couldn’t possibly be what Kai was implying, could it? If he was really taking advantage of your kindness, why did your heart beat so quickly at the thought of his name? 

“I think he deserves the jam just as much as anyone else in Strawberryland”, you state, nodding to yourself as you sink back in the chair, arms spread on the armrests. Kai bites the inside of his cheek remaining quiet, though the look on his face told you that he wished to intervene further. 

“I talk to him”, you shrug, acting as if the matter was nothing short of common for you. — “He is actually quite an interesting person, if you give him a chance.” You send Kai a small smile, but the blue haired boy doesn’t seem to buy it as he runs a hand through his short hair. “I don’t know Apricot… There’s a reason he lives out there..” — “Like what?” You cut him off, leaning forward in an instant with an almost challenging look on your face. 

Kai opens his mouth to speak, then he stops himself. You watch as he battles with himself for a moment before finally sighing. “Well he’s…Different.” — “Different how?” You knew you were pushing him now, and that he soon would be caving, but you didn’t care. For a small part of you, a part you had tried to ignore for long, felt the need to defend Beomgyu, even if you hardly knew him, it felt like your responsibility. Because if you didn’t, then who would? 

“You don’t know?” Kai suddenly asks and your face falls for a moment. Didn’t know what? Kai shifts in his seat as he glances around your flourishing garden, as if checking for witnesses, and when he speaks again, it's in a hushed whisper. “You know… About the peaches..”, he murmurs, swallowing as he holds your gaze. 

“The peaches?” You repeat, a little too loud for his liking as he winces. “Yes”, he mutters between sealed lips. “He can’t… I mean, he says he doesn’t like them, but the truth is he can’t even grow them.” Kai leans back up as soon as he’s uttered the words, hurriedly checking his surroundings once more before shrinking back against the backrest of his chair. 

Your face contorts into a confused grimace, “Can’t grow peaches?” That’s ridiculous, everyone in Strawberryland grows their own fruits, what could possibly make him so different? Kai slowly nods as he fiddles with the spoon discarded on his empty plate. “I mean, I’m sure he doesn’t want to either, but even if he did, he physically can’t”, he shrugs before continuing, “That’s why he moved out there, so that the rest wouldn’t have to know how much of a failure he was…” He says the last words with a hint of sympathy, and you couldn’t help the way your chest churned at the thought. 

“You’re saying I should stay away from him?” It’s not a question but a statement, you didn’t need an answer because Kai had already made himself clear. Yet he gives a firm nod, letting the silverware drop back onto the plate. “Yes”, he says, “I’m worried that whatever curse lingers around him might transfer onto you…Besides, who knows what he’s capable of..” 

It hurt, hearing him speak so negatively of Beomgyu. Suppose you had grown a small attachment to the grumpy peach, so what? Delivering him some jam every now and then certainly didn’t harm anyone. You failed to see Kai’s reasoning, failed to see the worry laced within his words. Still, you did something most uncharacteristic, you lied.

“I won’t go see him.” 

⸝⸝

Your basket isn’t as heavy as usual when you skip down the cobbled road. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that you had only brought three jars of jam today, and they were all meant for one person. — Throwing a final glance over your shoulder, you venture off the main road, emerging into the thick treeline as you begin the journey to Peach Beomgyu’s house. 

Not only had you brought jam, but you’d put in the effort of baking muffins as well. They had come out slightly burnt, their edges a refined and dark black but you didn’t mind, they tasted just as sweet and you were sure they would go well with the jam. — To thank him, that was the goal of today, you told yourself. To thank him for his hospitality as he let you stay last time, and enough jars of jam to last him well over two weeks. 

As you near the now familiar house, you can’t help but feel a sense of excitement. It flutters in the pits of your stomach, swirling around as your heart beats steadily within your chest. Had you not been so focused on the task at hand, perhaps you would’ve noticed the way the trees seemed to sway, the leaves rustling despite the lack of wind and the eerie silence that fell over the woods on this particular day. 

But you don’t, and soon enough, you’re making the steps up his creaking porch. Your soft knock somehow seems to ring out like thunder in the thick and quiet air. — Glancing around, you prepare for the inevitable wait as you sway back and forth on your feet. But to your surprise, it is mere moments later that the door is ripped open, revealing a disheveled Beomgyu on the other side. 

Immediately you notice the subtle flush across his normally pale and cold cheeks. His dark hair stands in all directions, and you frown as your gaze flickers over his dark eyes, his pupils widened to an extent that nearly concerns you. Was he sick? Had you come at a bad time? Your attention falls on the way his chest heaves with each jagged breath he takes, and it trails along his arm, finally landing on the way his fingers bore into the wood of the doorframe to steady himself, knuckles turning white at the sheer force he used. 

“Beomgyu, is everything okay?” You ask, blinking the shock away as you readjust the grip on your basket. He doesn’t say anything, and you were just about to suggest coming back another time when he suddenly lurches forward. — You barely have time to realize what’s happening, but the feel of his vice-like grip around your wrist makes you wince as he yanks you inside. 

The door slams shut behind you and the smell of peaches suddenly infiltrates your every sense. You don’t think you have ever smelled anything like it before. It was strong, sweet, almost sickly so. It felt far from the citrusy tang apricots carried and you frown as you glance around the area. His living room looks the same, kitchen too, where was the smell coming from? — A chill runs down your spine as you pick up on the sound of a lock clicking behind you. Beomgyu’s harsh exhale is hot against the back of your neck, and it makes the hairs there stand tall as you freeze in place. 

When he places an equally warm hand on your shoulder do you realize that the smell is coming from him. He’s practically radiating it. And along with the thick layer of heat that coats him, it pulsates off of him with steady rhythm, slapping you across the face as you squint up at him. Just what was going on.. “Beomgyu..?” He doesn’t answer, and you fervently search his gaze, only to find that he’s looking at something completely different. 

You cover your mouth with a trembling hand, a confused and alarmed frown painting the rest of your face. He must have caught something, a virus of some sort, something that made his body flare up like this, something that made him smell so…So truly divine. You shake your head, screwing your eyes shut as you take a step back. 

He still hasn’t said anything, not a single word from the moment he ripped his door open. And when he takes a step forward, you find yourself immediately faltering backward. He chases you, with deliberate and long strides, and you don’t stop until your back hits one of his overcrowded shelves, the books and figurines on it rattling as you do. You turn your head in surprise, only to feel his hot fingers on your chin as he steers you back his way. 

Beomgyu pries your hand from your lips, his breath audibly hitching in his throat when his eyes fall on your open mouth once more. He looks ready to swallow each shaky exhale you emit, and before you can protest does he slam his lips against yours. — Your eyes shoot open, your hands flying to his shoulders in an attempt to push him back. But Beomgyu was strong, scarily so, and he easily shoves you up against the shelf. 

The small noise of surprise gets drowned out by his harsh groan, his hands gripping at your waist as he shoves you against the stacked books. — “B-Beomgyu wait- This isn’t…” You  manage to gasp when he parts for air. His face is flushed in a light pink, and the mess of dark brown hair lays in uneven sections across his hungry eyes as he pants. It didn’t make any sense, none of this did. 

Your basket had fallen to the floor due to all the commotion and one of the jars had rolled onto the hard wood. Beomgyu didn’t even seem to register the chaos he was creating as he pressed his lips back on yours. He kisses you with a need best described as insatiable, leaving room for nothing but his demanding ways as his tongue shoves past your parted lips, slipping into your mouth with urgency. 

The shock slowly begins to wear off and you realize what’s actually going on. Peach Beomgyu was kissing you, well, he was damn near eating you. It didn’t… You didn’t… Your thoughts seemed to cut short, any sense of semblance slipping through the cracks of your fingers as you helplessly chased them. — You should push him off, you should yell at him and ask what in the world had gotten into him. 

Because Peach Beomgyu didn’t make friends, and hell, he certainly didn’t kiss people. This was completely unwarranted and you deserved more than an explanation for his near outrageous actions. 

For some reason, you find yourself pulling him even closer. 

It barely registered at first. Your fingers moved on their own as they clutched the shirt he was wearing, tugging him against you with a force just as strong as his. You couldn’t explain it, the need to be close, the need to give in to every single thought that yelled for you to back away. — Kai’s words linger in your scrambled mind when Beomgyu’s hands go to the back of your thighs, hoisting you into his arms, forcing a proximity that was dangerously close. 

Perhaps you should’ve listened to him when he’d told you to stay away. When he’d warned you about Beomgyu. Something was not right with him, you knew that, every fiber of your being told you that this was a bad idea. Yet your mind couldn’t seem to overpower the fire that spread inside your heart, clutching it tightly in its grip, pulling you towards Beomgyu. 

You have always followed your heart. You followed it when you delivered jam, because it fluttered when the others appreciatively accepted their jar. You followed it because it beats extra hard when someone smiles your way. You followed it because it made you happy. Even now, you followed it, you followed it through the thick and dark trees, through the wilted flowers and the eerie silence that led all the way to his house. 

You followed your heart all the way to Beomgyu, until you finally found yourself in his arms. 

A noise of surprise rips from the back of your throat as he walks you over to the couch, setting you down amongst the peachy pillows. He stares down at you for a moment, his tongue swiping across your plump lips, and you find yourself mesmerized by him. In the dim light of the fireplace, he didn't look at all like his cold and mean self. Beomgyu looked warm, flourishing and alive. 

The strong scent of peaches radiated off of him in waves, making your eyes flutter as you got a whiff of him. — Your mouth opens, you want to say something, you want to confirm that this moment is real, that this is just not a figment of your imagination and that you are actually here, that he’s actually here and that he’s… Him. 

“You smell good.” His voice is gruff, and you can barely make out his dark eyes as he leans down, for his brown hair covers the majority of his flushed face. — You squeal when his lips drag across the juncture of your neck, when his hot tongue presses against your skin. “Like apricots..” He murmurs, as his nose nudging against your collarbone, “But better.” 

He inhales sharply, the groan he emits going straight to your core and you feel a strange wave of desire build in your stomach. It felt weird, though not unpleasant, and certainly not unwelcome. — Still, you shriek when his fingers reach for your orange coat, insistently tugging it from your body. Beomgyu doesn’t even seem to register your bashful exclamation as you try to cover yourself, instead he tugs at your blouse, flicking the first few buttons open as his eyes rake across your warm skin. 

“Fuck”, he grunts and you would be ashamed to admit that the small slip of his tongue made you throb. — “Do you like this?” He asks, his hungry eyes suddenly latching onto yours. Your face was practically on fire as you nodded, and Beomgyu’s smirk grew wide. “I can tell”, he then adds, making you jump as his hand slides up your inner thigh, stopping all the way under your plaid skirt, his fingers inches from the lining of your panties, “You reek of it.” 

“I…” You did not know if that was a compliment or not. But you meekly tried to close your legs, only for Beomgyu to pry them apart again as he pushed your skirt up over your hips. — His breath is warm, much warmer than the fire sparking next to you. It makes your skin flare up as it caresses you. 

“Please”, he murmurs, the words barely audible as his head drops down between your thighs. “I need to taste you, just once.” — You weren’t exactly sure what he meant by that, but the strange flutter rising in your stomach had become almost impossible to ignore and out of sheer desperation you nod, breathing out a small, “yes.” 

Beomgyu doesn’t need to hear it twice. Two of his long fingers slip around the hem of your panties, tugging the garment down your legs, though giving up halfway when his impatience got the better of him. The sound of cotton ripping fills your ears, making you dizzy as he exhales against your bare cunt, nearly panting against it upon eyeing the orange cream that your arousal had built up. 

Your eyes fly open when he first licks a stripe along your core, a surprised moan leaving your lips as you peer down at him. Fingers digging into the plush and peachy couch, you swallow, your gaze training on his brown hair as it buries between your legs, longing to reach out and touch him. — The first, almost hesitant taste he’d gotten only seemed to make him spiral even further and you choke on a small gasp as the bridge of his nose presses against your clit, his tongue dwelling deep inside your cunt as his hands grab at your waist, sliding down your thighs. 

His eyes flutter in ecstasy, the creamy taste of apricots overwhelming his taste buds as the acidic sensation floods him. He quickly realizes that he needs more, and a lot of it. “W-Wait, wait, Beomgyu–” The tingling feeling bubbling within you felt like it was about to implode on you, it made your thighs tremble and your head spin as you fought to stay somewhat composed. 

But it’s like he’s on a different planet, nothing you said mattered when you were so perfectly spread before him, your warm and inviting cunt just waiting for him to completely devour. Your soft whines and silent pleas made his head spin, and he knew he needed more, as much as possible. 

Your head tips back when his fingers suddenly slide between your soaked folds, digging into your quivering cunt as he curls them. — “B-Beomgyu..” His name leaves your lips a mere whimper, though you’re not sure what you’re even asking of him. You want to say something, to convey the heat inside of you, the feelings swirling within your chest and the fierce beating of your heart. But the words get caught in your throat, your eyes screwing shut as pleasurable vibrations course through you. 

Beomgyu moans at the taste of your release on his tongue, greedily lapping up every single droplet of creamy apricot as he tugs you closer. He doesn’t seem to worry about breathing, and his chest heaves dramatically against the couch cushion, his hips stuttering as he shudders. — The feeling of his tongue against your clit suddenly goes from overwhelming to overbearing, and your thighs clamped around his head as your hands push him back. 

“N-No more!” You gasp, your face flushed in all shades orange as you blink fervently. Beomgyu groans when he separates from your cunt, a displeased look flashing across his desire-filled expression. The lower half of his face is coated in a thick layer of something dangerously close to the apricot jam he’d been feasting on for weeks. He blatantly ignores your gawking stare as he wipes the mess from his cheeks, stuffing his fingers into his mouth, his eyes already searching for more as he attempts to spread your legs once more. 

You whine, rubbing your thighs together in embarressment, resisting a shiver as his hand runs across your knee and down your calf. “One more”, he says, and though his voice is masked by a layer of determination, you can still decipher the silent plea as his dark eyes search yours. — Biting the inside of your cheek, you shyly avoid his gaze as you let it wander across his body. 

With a slightly shaky hand you point to the shirt he’s wearing. “T-Take it off..” You murmur, the small sentence nearly inaudible. The uncharacteristic smirk he’d been wearing since your arrival quickly finds its way back to his lips and Beomgyu complies as he tugs the garment over his head, discarding it on the floor as he turns back to you with a look of expectancy. 

Admittedly so, you had been craving a closer look at him since the day you’d first found yourself on his porch. Something about him pulled you in. Perhaps it was the subtle pink flush of his face, one that had intensified right now, making him almost glow. Or it was the soft fuzz that crawled across his skin, it feels ticklish under the tips of your fingers as you trail them along his naked chest. Peach fuzz, you think to yourself with a small smile. — Beomgyu shudders, but bites back another comment as he watches you with dark eyes. 

Your attention flickers to his hair, dark and unkempt. His hair left a lot of questions, some which you had spent more time pondering than you’d like to admit. Your hands card through the surprisingly soft locks, giving them a gentle tug and Beomgyu groans, his head immediately falling forward as he wraps an arm around your waist. 

He pulls you onto his lap in seconds, making you straddle his hips, ignoring the way you wince as your sensitive cunt makes contact with the rough fabric of his pants. — Your gaze drops to the not so subtle bulge straining against the fabric, your hands tentatively palming him through the material, carefully gauging his reaction. 

The strands of his dark hair tickle your neck as he leans forward to press languid kisses along your shoulder. His teeth drag across your skin, and for a moment you thought he might actually try and take a bite out of you. It was like he was trying to merge with you, to envelop you fully, like that was the only way to extinguish the fire burning within. 

He helps you with the zipper, swiftly tugging his hard cock from the confinements of his pants, giving it a few deliberate strokes as he directs kisses to your blazing skin. — You can’t help but eye the way his fingers wrap around his shaft, noting the way he presses his thumb against his slit, shuddering against you as he does. Eager to do the same, you reach out. Beomgyu freezes when your hand joins in on top of his, but makes no move to brush you off. 

Saliva pools in your mouth at the sight of light and pink precum dribbling from his flushed tip, it perfectly matched the flush of his face. Beomgyu chokes on a strained moan when your fingers swipe across his slit, gathering the sticky and sweet substance on your hand as you bring it to the lips. — He tastes sweet, like peaches, ripe and perfectly harvested. You sigh at the euphoric taste, your eyes fluttering as your tongue darts out to lick at the remnants that had spilled down your chin. 

Beomgyu’s throbbing cock twitches at the sight and he doesn’t hesitate as yanks you forward. “Don’t do that”, he breathes, “Please. Don’t do that.” It sounds as if he’s using all his willpower to hold back. You didn’t want him to. You wanted to see him just as he was, every last bit of him, you wanted to see it all, to familiarize yourself with everything that was him.  

“You taste good”, you say, the compliment coming out a little breathless when he presses the tip of his cock against your overstimulated cunt. “Yeah?” He asks, pushing past the tight rim of muscle as he eases his way inside, bringing you back onto his thighs. “You do too.” — His words barely register in your mind, for it’s far too clogged up on the feeling of him, throbbing and alive, inside of you. 

His hands are on your waist again, pulling you forward as he sets you in motion. You gasp at the way he brushes up against every bundle of nerves, soft eyelashes hitting your cheeks as your eyes flutter. — With trembling fingers you reach for his face, you wanted to kiss him again, you wanted it more than anything. In this very moment you felt greedy, selfish almost, your body moving on its own accord as you sought out pleasure. 

You had always considered yourself a selfless person, always giving and giving, never expecting anything in return. It felt strange, you had never desired anything the way you desired Beomgyu right now. The feeling scared you. Was this what Kai had warned you about? Should you have listened. — Even if you wanted to, you don’t think you could ever stop now. It was too much, he was everywhere, all at once. Yet there never seemed to be enough. 

Your lips crash against his with urgency, somehow the kiss turns out sweet. It’s soft, gentle, caring. Beomgyu hums into your mouth, the taste of peaches and apricots mixing with one another. It tastes sweet, refreshing, and exciting. — Your combined moans echo out into the small cottage, the fire burning alongside your already blazing bodies, intensifying the raw and intimate moment. 

Suddenly you know what you’d been longing for all this time, what had been missing in your otherwise mundane but joyful life. Delivering jams wasn’t enough, the warm smiles only eased the loneliness in your heart to an extent. No, this, this was what you needed. Another warm body against yours, someone to devote yourself entirely to, someone who acted without expecting anything in return. You would like to think of Beomgyu that way, even though you know you probably shouldn’t. 

“Fuck, you’re so perfect- I..” Beomgyu cuts himself off as he pulls back from the heated kiss. Sweat slides down his forehead and you lean in to press a small peck between his furrowed brows. His jaw slacks as he lets ragged breaths pass his parted lips, his hips jerking up to meet yours. — Large hands slide down the sides of your trembling thighs, running over the curve of your ass as he squeezes the soft flesh there. 

“D-Don’t know how much longer…I’m..” You stumble over your words, foreheads pressed against one another as small wordless sounds of pleasure rips from your throat. Beomgyu hums, his fingers creeping up your spine, dark gaze trained to your tits, catching the way your perky nipples strained against the cotton of your blouse. — “Fucking perfect.” He grunts, repeating himself over and over, enjoying the way it sounded on his tongue. 

His thumb presses against your clit, rubbing it in gentle motions. The action makes your teeth latch onto your bottom lip as tears prickle in the corner of your eyes. With a small cry you feel your orgasm course through you, your cunt desperately clenching around his cock, pulling a string of curses from Beomgyu as his head tips back, exposing his flushed neck and bobbing adam's apple. 

The peach cream is warm as it sputters from his twitching cock, spreading throughout your belly when he finishes inside of you. It’s unexplainable, the closeness, the intertwinement, you feel almost bound to him in that moment. — His body feels electrifying against yours, the soft fuzz tickling you when he pulls you to his heaving chest. 

It feels idyllic, being so close to him. He doesn’t feel at all like the Beomgyu you had acquainted yourself with. This feels raw, it feels real. The weeks you’d spent carefully peeling the layers back had led you here, a place in which you never would’ve even considered finding yourself in. — And when you peer up at him, you find it hard to ever look away. He looks dazed, half a smirk plastered onto his face as his arms tighten around you. 

You did not know if this had been a mistake or not, you did not know if you would come to regret this the following day. But right now it felt just right, just perfect. — You wish to stay like this, if just a moment longer. 

⸝⸝

You found that Beomgyu liked to sleep in. 

As usual, you had woken along with the sun, rising as the first rays cast upon you. Stretching out with a small yawn, you freeze when your feet hit something hard. Cracking a groggy eye open, you find your toes stubbed against the armrest of a peachy couch. Shaking your head as you blink the sleep away, you glance around. — You were in Beomgyu’s living room. 

Your gaze falls on the fire, it had since long died out, leaving nothing but ashes in its wake. Then onto the discarded basket, tipped over on the floor a few paces away. And then to your bright and orange coat, thrown on the cream colored carpet. — At last, you settle on him. Beomgyu lays sprawled out on the sofa, taking up the vast majority of it as he forces you into a compromised position somewhere between its backrest and him. 

With a small grunt you ease yourself into a sitting slouch, steadying yourself with a hand on his naked chest. The pink flush had gone down, and he no longer looked as if he were on fire. In fact, he looked almost peaceful like this. Blissfully asleep as he takes slow and steady breaths through his slightly parted lips. His eyes move behind closed eyelids, lashes fluttering, as his nose scrunches. 

You reach out before you can even stop yourself, fingers carefully carding through his dark hair. Memories of your previous night together flash before you, replaying themselves in crisp clear quality. You remember his warm hands on you, his fuzzy skin against yours, his lips, the way he tasted, the way he made you feel. — Your body tingles all over at the mere thought. 

Mindlessly your hands wander, not stopping until they reach a peculiar little mark on his ribcage. At first glance, it looked nothing out of the ordinary, and you would have probably brushed it off as a birthmark, had it not been for the way Beomgyu flinched when you pressed against it. — He groans, rolling over on his side, now facing you as his arm wraps around your waist, pulling you to him as his face nuzzles against your stomach. 

“Too early..” He complains, his voice muffled and laced with sleep as his hands clumsily grab at your hips. Pursing your lips, you reach for the mark once more, pressing the tips of your fingers against it. Beomgyu groans as he attempts to swat your hand away, persistently ignoring your advances until you finally speak up. — “What’s that?” 

“Hm?” He raises his head, blinking against the bright sun before his attention shifts to where you’re pointing at. A small scoff passes his lips, his expression morphing into one of recognition and distaste, like you’d just reminded him of something he’d been trying to forget. — “It’s nothing”, he grunts, heaving himself into a sitting position as he stretches. Your eyes trail his figure with far less shame than you would’ve liked to admit. But as they do, you encounter several marks of the same kind. 

“Beomgyu, there’s one here too”, you point to the reddish hue on his forearm. How had you not noticed these yesterday? Then again… Your cheeks flush as you recall the events of last night, quickly shaking your head as you try to rid yourself of such thoughts. — Beomgyu huffs, waving a dismissing hand your way as he tries to brush the topic off. “Don’t they hurt?” You quire, pushing the conversation further. 

Beomgyu sighs, running a sleepy hand through his disheveled and dark hair. “Yeah, sure”, he mutters but doesn’t seem too bothered by the admission. — “Had them for as long as I can remember”, he then adds with a small shrug, “something about peaches bruising easily.” 

You don’t question him on the topic again, he didn’t seem keen on talking about it. And you respected that. Yet you couldn’t help but get lost in thought as your mind pictured the dark spots. Were Kai’s words true? Had Beomgyu himself began rotting?

⸝⸝

You visit Beomgyu the next day, and the day after that, and even the one to come. He doesn't question your sudden appearances. And you no longer have to wait outside his shut front door, for he opens it right away, even if he lets you inside with nothing but a short nod or a small grunt. 

The two of you don’t do much. You drink tea, sometimes you eat biscuits with the jam you brought. Other times he allows you to scour his crowded bookshelves, you use him as your own library, picking a book and returning with it a few days later. — Beomgyu will often sit on the couch, you by the warm fireplace as you ramble on about the book, sharing your thoughts excitedly. Often it felt as if you were conversing with yourself, but you knew that he was listening. You could tell by the way his lip twitched, or the way he rolled his thumbs over one another. 

Neither of you bring up that night, the night where you had.. It’s buried, buried beneath the small talk. Buried beneath the tea and the biscuits, beneath the silence of just enjoying each other’s presence. — Beomgyu never tells you to leave, but you do so anyway. And though your heart yearned to spend another night in his house, you were not so sure that it was a good idea. You had yet to tell anyone about it, not even Blueberry Kai knew. The secret burdened you, in a way. 

Beomgyu never mentioned the bruises again, so you didn’t either. Sometimes you would catch a glimpse of them, when his shirt slid up as he reached for a book on the top shelf, or when he rolled his sleeves up to do the dishes. If he ever caught you staring, he’d make sure to cover himself again. The sight pained you, and you wished there was something you could do. Anything. 

When you weren’t at his house, you spent your days researching, as silly as it might sound. In the short span of a week, you had learned everything there was to know about peaches. From their soft and fuzzy outsides to their pink and creamy insides. You read about growing peaches, about harvesting peaches, you read about which seasons they thrive in and which they don’t. — Safe to say you confidently called yourself an expert. 

Yet there was one peach you couldn’t quite seem to figure out. 

Beomgyu was nothing like the peaches in the books, with the exception of the soft fuzz that coated him and the pink flush of his cheeks whenever he got flustered. And as the night drags on, your tired eyes follow along the written liens on the page before you in a lazy manner. With your head propped on your hand, you stifle yet another yawn as you blink the sleep away. 

No, this wouldn’t do. All answers were not in books, and certainly not answers about Beomgyu. With the quick shake of your head, you slam said book shut, and with newfound determination you rise to your feet. — If you couldn’t ask him about it, then you would simply have to work with what you’ve got; and that was a whole bunch of newfound knowledge on peaches. 

⸝⸝ 

The next morning you leave home before the birds wake. With nothing but a short blink of sleep but energy to feed an army, you march down the cobbled road. You don’t have to look for the small pathway that leads off the main street anymore, your feet take you there on your own, allowing your thoughts to wander as you dwell into the thick forest. 

Beomgyu’s familiar house makes your chest swell, and your pace quickens as you approach. — The knocks you deliver to his door are sharp, demanding and slightly impatient. With the small click of your tongue, you glance around the silent woods, tapping your foot restlessly against the old porch. A minute or so later, the door glides open, and you’re met with a freshly woken peach. 

“Do you know what time it is?” Beomgyu retorts, though his voice lacks its usual bite, he’d stopped using that with you. “It’s almost seven”, you chirp as you brush past him and into his homely living room, having already made yourself more than comfortable within his house. Beomgyu’s protesting groan becomes a faint background noise as you settle the heavy basket you were carrying onto his dining table. 

It’s just now that he seems to notice it, his eyes scouring the items stacked inside, neatly concealed with a plaid blanket. — “What’s the meaning of this?” He mutters as he nears you, his chest brushing against your back as he reaches past you to peel the blanket off. You freeze, swallowing a small gulp as you blink a couple of times. Beomgyu had started doing that.. Being so close, you mean. It was as if the matter of personal space didn’t occur in his mind. Not that you minded, however it reminded you of your night together, and that was something you did mind. 

“Peaches..!” You chime, trying your hardest not to let on to your flustered state. Beomgyu, on the other hand, goes silent behind you. His warm breaths are slow and steady against the back of your neck as his fingers fiddle with the handle of the basket. “What for?” He asks, his voice gruff and unreadable. 

Hesitantly, you reach for one of the smaller bags, holding it up as you show him the tiny seeds inside. “They’re not peaches yet..” You murmur, and you’re thankful that he can’t see your face as it twists in embarrassment. — “I thought we could plant them together”, the proposal comes out a mere whisper, the words getting caught in your throat as you avoid glancing behind you to get his reaction. 

Another eerie silence follows. 

It drags on for nearly a whole minute before Beomgyu finally shifts behind you. “No.” He firmly states, the abrupt refusal washing over you like a bucket of ice cold water. This time you can’t hold yourself back from twisting on the spot, coming face to face with him. — “Why not?” You press, your brows furrowing as you grip the small bag of seeds. 

Beomgyu leans forward, restricting the already confined space between the two of you. The back of your thighs press against the dining table, and you find yourself leaning backward when his nose nudges against your own. — “Because I don’t like peaches.” His expression is painted with distaste, as if the word itself spread a bitter taste on his tongue. However, you refused to back down, and with a small huff you shook your head; shoving him back as you grab the basket and head for the smaller door that leads out into his garden.

The fresh morning air is soothing against your burning skin, still tingling where his warm breath had caressed. You take in a deep breath, savoring the cool air as it slips down into your lungs. As you do, you survey the garden. While it wasn’t in horrible condition, it looked like it had been left unattended for the greater part of its existence. Yet you march forward, finding a nice open patch of grass as you sink to your knees. 

You rummage through the basket in search of the small shovels you’d brought. Then comes the process of tearing up the ground beneath you. It’s a tedious process, but one that you find to quite enjoy. A familiar sensation of calm and peace washes over you as you work just like you would in your own garden; shoveling the soil into a pile next to you. 

The sun is warm against your back as you work, yet its rays don't quite seem to reach the lonesome cottage, for the dark forest surrounding you shuts it out. — Wiping the sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand, you find yourself completely engrossed in the task at hand. Much so that the sound of the door being opened and closed passes you by unnoticed. 

Beomgyu’s steps are heavy as he slowly approaches your hunched over form. You feel his presence before you see it. The way his gaze tears holes through the back of your neck, dark and piercing eyes locked on your every move. He stops a pace away, maintaining a safe distance, as if the seed itself were to jump up and swallow him whole. 

It’s quiet, neither of you saying anything as you let the tense air speak for itself. You can feel him watching you as you shovel more dirt, having made a decent depth to the hole. Briefly, you consider the fact that this might’ve been a mistake, that you had overstepped once and for all, and that this time, he wasn’t just going to brush it off as insistence. — When you reach for the bag of seeds, he suddenly speaks up: 

“Why are you doing this?” 

You hadn't expected him to ask that. Quite frankly you had expected him to drag you away. To shut his door in your face and tell you to never come back. His question makes you waver, fingers hovering above the opening section of the little bag as you freeze mid-action. Why were you doing this? To say pity felt derogatory, for you didn’t think Beomgyu longed for pity, if anything he repelled it. So what was it? 

“Friendship”, you finally say, your hands resuming their work as you shake a few seeds out onto your open palm. “It’s what friends do”, you add as you turn to peer up at him. It was hard to make out his expression, the sun behind him momentarily blinding you. But his scoff is loud and clear, and you catch the way his fingers twitch as he resists the urge to clench them into fists. 

He mutters something under his breath, the words inaudible to your ears. Then he crouches down next to you, the action taking you by surprise. A small, almost unnoticeable smirk is tugged across his lips, it's a strange look on him, one you don’t think you’d ever seen. — “Friendship?” He echoes as he glances toward the bag in your hand. You nod, rolling the seeds on the flat of your palm, “Are we not friends?” 

Beomgyu pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, his gaze trained on something beyond your line of sight as he peers out and ahead. “I don’t know..”, he murmurs, his eyes briefly dropping to his own hands, splayed out in front of him. — “I don’t think I’ve ever had a friend.” The admission is followed by the soft flush of his neck and cheeks, the light pink radiating on his skin. 

His words make your chest tighten, the corners of your lips falling as your face drops. Never had a friend? You’d always assumed that Peach Beomgyu liked it better that way. Perhaps not, perhaps he was just as lonely as he looked right now. — Placing the bag of seeds down, you reach over, clasping his hand in yours. The small seeds linger within your intertwined palms, enveloped in the warmth simmering between you.  

Beomgyu’s brow twitches, his dark eyes lifting as they lock with yours, a silent question lingering within them. — “I can be your first friend”, you smile, even though your stomach is fluttering with nerves. He looks slightly taken aback, like he hadn’t expected for those to be the words to come out of your mouth. His lips part, only for him to close them soon again, silently nodding. 

Your heart was practically ablaze. 

Only when his hand squeezes around yours do you seem to remember yourself as you shake your head. “Right”, you say as you point to the little hole you had dug, “Let’s plant these!” — Beomgyu seems hesitant at first, his eyes flickering between your intertwined fingers and the soil patch. Still, he reluctantly gives in as he lets you guide your joint hands toward the hole. 

You make sure to gently pat the little seeds in, taking a moment to lean back and admire them before motioning for Beomgyu to cover them with dirt. He complies, gingerly scooping some into his palms as he covers the hole back up. Together you flatten it out, your hands bumping into one another as you do. It’s impossible to ignore the way his fingers flare up in pink whenever they touch yours, and you smile at the discovery. 

When you’re finally done, you lean back up, placing your hands on your knees as you regard the small patch with pursed lips. “Now we wait”, you huff, realizing that even with the help of Beomgyu it would take a good couple of months before these were even close to being done. To wait and for so long for something was awfully boring. 

With a reclined sigh, you begin collecting the tools you’d used, shoving them back into the basket. Beomgyu had gone awfully quiet next to you, quiet even for him. You pay it no mind, far too busy with re-organizing yourself. It’s not until his warm fingers suddenly grasp your chin, his touch feathery light yet scorching hot, that you react. 

Your wide eyes barely manage to meet his upon turning your head before his lips press against yours. The sudden kiss takes you by surprise and you blink a couple of times before allowing your shocked eyes to fall shut. — It didn’t feel like it had that night, this was slow, timid almost, and Beomgyu was far more hesitant this time around as his hand went to your waist. It was cute, you thought. 

And when he finally pulls back, there’s a warm pink covering the entirety of his face as he clears his throat into his closed fist. “Do..” He begins, quickly trailing off as he avoids your gaze. “I mean, is that something friends do?” — You frown, mouth opening and closing as you think of an answer. 

“I don’t…I don’t think so. I think it’s something that more-than-friends do…”, you shyly admit, watching as the color that had just begun fading off of his face resurfaced once more. — Beomgyu grunts, shaking his head once, as if banishing the embarrassment from his mind, his dark hair falling in uneven sections in front of his eyes. “Then..”, he puts on a more stoic expression but you catch the nervous fidget of his fingers as they play with a strand of grass, “Then I want to be ‘more-than-friends’ with you.” — “If…If that’s okay?” He quickly adds, his face falling for a brief moment. 

You can only nod, a grin stretching across your lips so wide that the corners of your mouth hurt. “I would like that very much.” — Beomgyu exhales a heavy sigh of relief, his shoulders slumping slightly as he peers at you through dark strands of hair. You awkwardly clear your throat, feeling your own face heat up at the request you were about to make: 

“Can you…do that again? The kiss I mean..” 

He chuckles, and you think it was the first time you ever heard him even remotely laugh. — “Without a doubt.” 

⸝⸝

Things became different with Beomgyu after that. But it was a good different. It was different because he had started coming to you. — It had shocked you at first, when he’d knocked on your door, and you had opened it, expecting anyone but him. Even more so when he’d willingly accompanied you into town. Though he didn’t say much, he still followed along as you browsed the different stands, humming a quiet yes to whatever you found interesting. 

People cast glances your way, but he didn’t seem to care for them. And neither did you, for the warm feeling of your hand in his washed away any other thoughts. — He even met Blueberry Kai once, though their first meeting was stiff and beyond tense, you couldn’t help the way your chest swelled at the accomplishment. 

Beomgyu was polite, at least when he wanted to be. He stopped to hold the door for others, picked up a lost purse and returned it to its owner, and he carried your basket when it became too heavy. After a while he started accompanying you when you went out to deliver jams, and the faces of others as they opened the door soon grew from shock to recognition as Beomgyu slowly made his way back into society. 

Still, you preferred to spend quiet and lazy days at his house. Away from everyone else, just the two of you, basked in a different kind of tranquility. Sharing soft kisses on the couch, long mornings in bed, reading out in the garden, and having tea in the kitchen. — It was a simple life, a life that had been right under your nose all along. 

And the peaches soon bloomed, much to everyone’s surprise. The first ripe fruits, hanging off the tree, pink and plump. Beomgyu watches as you reach for one, plucking it from its branch as you turn it in your hands. — “Perfect, no?” You say as you let your fingers glide over the familiar fuzz covering the fruit. 

Beomgyu hums as he, too, reaches for one. The shirt he wore rides up his stomach, exposing his flushed skin to you. But there were no bruises this time, they had faded months ago. And none of you questioned it, though you were certain you knew why. — Beomgyu brings the peach to his nose, inhaling its sweet scent as his eyes flutter. A small smile splayed across his face, that was also something different. 

Your gaze lingers on his frame just a moment longer, fixated on the dark hair on top of his head. Only… It wasn’t dark, not anymore. — You reach up to card your hand through his soft locks, fingers catching one a strand by the very top. You run it between your thumb and index finger, its peachy color glowing under the sun. 

To think that a little bit of love was all someone like him needed to bloom. 

It was a funny thought indeed.

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[crookedteethed]

ᡣ𐭩 the good girl . • ° 　 .　 *　:.　the introduction (1)

synopsis -- Rafe is infatuated with you, his new secretary; something about a trip to Morocco. Rafe is in debt and wants you to pick up a bag of cocaine from Barry for him.

warnings: 18+ mdni mostly through Rafe's (perverted) pov, cursing, ward is still alive, smut but through fantasies, angst, Slight Dark! Rafe, drug/alcohol usage

a/n: I don't know anything about real estate so please don't take the buisness portions in this series seriously.

Series Masterlist | word count: 3.2k

You and Rafe had four scheduled meetings together before noon, each one dragging on with the monotonous drone of old men discussing business.

Rafe, easily bored, found his attention drifting away from the discussions and towards you. He couldn't help but notice the delicate beauty marks scattered across your smooth crossed legs, a detail he had committed to memory by the third meeting.

He longed for your soft voice as he listened to the sound of flapping cheeks and tedious numbers being tossed back and forth. Every now and then, just to hear it, he would interrupt with a simple question in your ear: "You got that down?"

And in response, you would always give a respectful "Yes sir" or a subtle hum on quieter days.

Rafe would watch you intently as you quickly scribbled down notes about whatever mundane topic was being discussed by the mortgage broker--so you can recite to him later.

Despite the dullness of the meetings, he found himself amused by your presence and secretly looked forward to these moments shared between just the two of you.

And then, like clockwork, that smart ass Pope Hayward would lean in and whisper something in your ear, too, ruining everything for Rafe.

Hayward had worked for R&P, the mortgage brokers for Cameron Development, and would often attend their meetings. He always sat beside you, on the opposite side of Rafe, where he was conveniently hidden behind your body and out of Rafe's line of sight.

Rafe thinks this is a sneaky move on Hayward's part since Rafe had suspicions that Hayward may have a crush on you, which only fueled his anger towards Hayward and the meetings.

If Rafe ever discovered Heyward's true feelings for you, he wouldn't hesitate to resurrect the violence of their teenage years. He'd make you watch as he reminded Heyward exactly who you belonged to, letting Heyward's blood stain his thousand-dollar leather shoes. After all, what better way to prove his love than marking his expensive Italian leather with the consequences of wanting what's his? Some men send flowers – Rafe Cameron sends messages written in bruises and blood.

The boardroom felt thick with tension as Rafe's attention ping-ponged between the financial reports and the way Heyward kept leaning toward you. His knuckles turned white around his Mont Blanc pen every time Heyward whispered something in your ear, every time you smiled politely in response.

The irony wasn't lost on him – Heyward's own secretary sat barely three feet away, yet here he was, hovering over what belonged to Rafe. His secretary. His territory.

By the fourth meeting, Rafe found  himself on the brink of madness, his father, Ward Cameron, drawling tone grating on his nerves. 

Mentally detached, he fantasized about indulging in a line of cocaine to awaken his senses, only to have his mind wander to envisioning himself ravishing you right atop the conference table in full view of everyone. 

His imagination spiraled further, picturing the new maintenance girl he saw a couple nights ago, pleasuring you while you, upside down like a flipped turtle, sucking his cock. 

A sudden pang of guilt hit Rafe as he remembered that he needed to order another batch of his "special" supplies from Barry.

He wondered if you, his new secretary, would be willing to make the call for him. His former assistant would have handled it without question, but she was long gone now.

Rafe resumed thinking about you, him, and the maintenance girl having a very sexy threesome on the conference table; he's jolted back to the present as his father's voice rings out, drawing his attention to the press room, where every man's gaze is fixed on him. 

The gentle touch of your hand on the padded sleeve of his suit stirs him, and he feels like popping a boner from your warm touch. 

He asks Ward to repeat himself.

Ward's voice was agitated, his tone indicating his impatience with his son. "Rafe, I want you to deal with the Morocco situation," he repeated firmly.

Later on, Rafe fumed over his father's request in his newly personalized office. Rafe's response was harsh and tense as he spat at his father, "How fair is it to dump all of this on me?!"

He had initially been planning for a sleek, earthy-toned with a black and brown look for his office. But when you mentioned your preference for dark blue and white, Rafe couldn't resist. After all, he always looked delectable in those colors, you told him (and yes, delectable was the exact word you used). So Rafe dropped his original design and went with a nautical theme instead.

"Well, son," Ward's voice cut through the air like ice, "if you could tear your eyes away from your secretary for five minutes, you might understand why the Morocco deal is crucial for this company's future."

Rafe's jaw clenched. "I wasn't--"

"Save it," Ward interrupted, his calm facade cracking. "I've seen this before, Rafe. The way you look at her, how you've redecorated your entire office to her taste. Just like all the others." He leaned forward, voice dropping. "How many secretaries have we lost because of you? How many NDAs have I had to sign?"

The accusation hung heavy in the air. Rafe's hands curled into fists, his cerulean eyes darkening with something dangerous. "This one's different," he growled.

"That's what you said about the last one." Ward's laugh was bitter. "And the one before that. Face it, son - you're becoming predictable. By this time next month, I'll be interviewing replacements. Again."

"Look," Ward's voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, but Rafe wasn't about to let him finish that thought.

"No, you look," he spits at his father. "You're always pulling this crap on me - sending me off to do your dirty work like some kind of expendable pawn. 'Send Rafe to northwest Africa for two months, with our worst fucking clients' " Rafe said, fake laughing and clapping all the while." Well the joke's on me, isn't it?" Rafe's eyes blaze with anger and bitterness as years of resentment bubble to the surface.

The words flew out of Rafe's mouth like venomous arrows, each one stinging with a sharp and bitter rage. "You wouldn't dare do this to Sarah, dad--your perfect little princess. But me? I'm just the expendable son, right? Send me on a ten hour flight, unpaid, to fix someone else's mistakes!" His voice dripped with disdain as he imitated his father's words in a mocking tone.

But Ward was not cowed by his son's outburst. "Rafe, please just calm down and listen--"

Rafe's words were sharp as he cut Ward off. "Don't play dumb with me, Dad. I know exactly why you're sending me to South Africa - it's a punishment, a way to get rid of me." The tension in the office was thick and palpable as Ward yelled back, their argument echoing off the walls for all to hear.

But amidst the chaos, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of curiosity and nosiness. You had been waiting outside Rafe's office, ready to deliver an urgent message about his 3 o'clock lunch meeting with another Mortgage Broker, Dennis Rutherford.

As time ticked by and Rafe's chauffeured car waited impatiently outside, you knew you had to intervene before it was too late.

Bursting into the office uninvited, you were greeted with the sight of father and son locked in a heated battle, their words laced with anger and resentment. This was not just another work disagreement - this was a deep-rooted family conflict that threatened to tear them apart.

"I'm sorry, gentlemen." you awkwardly say, getting both men's attention. 

Had it been anyone else, Rafe would have immediately fired them for barging in like that. However, since it was you—and he hadn’t yet had the chance to sleep with you—Rafe merely shouted a sharp "What?!" that made you recoil in fear. He felt awful about your reaction but thought he could make it up to you later when his tongue is knee-deep into your pussy.

"Your 3'oclock, sir--with Mr.Rutherford." You say, trying to mask their intimidation.

"Shit." Rafe cursed, swiping a hand across his growing buzzed head. "Did you call the chauffeur?" he asked you. 

You acknowledge with a bow of your head, responding, Of course, sir, as you pass his briefcase into his hands. Rafe longed to refer to you as his good girl, yet with his father present in the room—and after already being seen openly "oogling" you earlier by his father and possibly others—he hesitated. 

While escorting Rafe from the office, he looks at you and remarks: 

"Join me and Rutherford for lunch."

Your heart races as you scramble to find an excuse. "I-I have a mountain of work to catch up on--"

"I don't recall asking you," he sneers, cutting you off. "I was telling you."

Twenty minutes past the scheduled meeting time, and Rafe had already downed three vodka shots, each one burning away at his paper-thin patience. The bar at Roots, despite its upscale pretense, felt suffocating.

You'd been to countless lunch meetings with him before, but something about today felt different. More dangerous. Maybe it was the way his leg kept brushing against yours under the bar, or how his cerulean eyes seemed to devour you between drinks.

Rafe Cameron, with his old money and expensive tastes, ordered another round. You watched, entranced despite yourself, as the alcohol stripped away his careful facade, revealing something raw and hungry underneath.

"Have a drink with me," he murmured, his voice honey-thick with liquor. His glazed eyes fixed on yours, holding secrets you weren't sure you wanted to understand.

"I believe one of us should stay sober, sir," you replied, fighting to keep your voice steady. The 'sir' slipped out automatically, and you watched his pupils dilate at the word.

A dark smile played at his lips as he closed his eyes, savoring your voice like another shot of vodka. Something about your presence seemed to intoxicate him more than the alcohol – a power that thrilled and terrified you in equal measure.

His hand found your knee under the bar, and you clutched your purse tighter, using it like a shield. Rafe noticed – he noticed everything about you – and his smile turned predatory.

"Just one drink," he pressed, sliding a virgin cocktail toward you. "Let go for me." The 'for me' sounded more like a claim than a request.

Forty-seven minutes in, Rutherford finally arrived to find Rafe thoroughly drunk and dangerously unraveled. The moment shattered as Rutherford launched into a tirade about debts – \$250,000 worth of them, spread across every loan shark in the city.

You shifted in your seat, uncomfortably aware of Rafe's heat beside you, the way his expensive cologne mixed with top-shelf vodka.

"The money's coming," Rafe slurred, but his eyes remained sharp, calculating. "Big deals in the pipeline. Major commissions."

Rutherford's lip curled in disgust. "Better hope so, Cameron. Or things get ugly."

The threat hung in the air like smoke. Rafe's fist clenched on the bar, his other hand still burning against your knee, his whole body vibrating with barely contained violence.

His thoughts scattered between the mounting pressure, the need for chemical escape, and the way your pulse jumped in your throat every time he leaned too close.

Without realizing it, Rafe grabbed your shoulder roughly and whispered in your ear, nearly dislocating your shoulder blade in the process.

Rafe's desperation was palpable as he leaned in closer, his voice a low murmur. "I need you to do something for me," he said, his eyes locked onto yours. "There's a guy named Barry. He's got something I need. I need you to pick it up for me."

Your heart raced as you realized what he was asking. "What is it?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

Rafe hesitated, his gaze shifting away. "It's a bag of cocaine," he admitted finally. "I need it to clear my head, to think straight. And I need it now."

You knew the risks, but Rafe's desperation was undeniable. He was in deep trouble, and he needed your help, as you looked in those glossy cerulean eyes of his. "Alright," you sighed, "I'll do it. But this is the last time, Mr. Cameron, what will your father think?"

"What he thinks of me already—that I'm just a Rafe, his screw-up of a son," Rafe replied. Despite this, a look of relief spread across his face, although the predatory gleam in his eyes remained. He fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a crumpled business card, pressing it into your palm with trembling fingers. His touch lingered longer than necessary, sending an involuntary shiver down your spine.

"Barry works out of the Bellamy Building on 5th," he whispered, his hot breath reeking of vodka against your ear. "Suite 401. Tell him Rafe sent you. And for God's sake, don't let anyone follow you."

Rutherford watched this exchange with cold calculation, his jaw clenched tight. He knew exactly what was happening – he'd seen plenty of rich boys like Rafe drag their employees into their mess before.

You gathered your things, trying to ignore how Rafe's eyes followed your every movement. Just as you stood to leave, he grabbed your wrist, his grip tight enough to bruise.

"One hour," he hissed. "I need it in one hour. Don't disappoint me."

The weight of what you'd agreed to settled heavy in your stomach as you walked toward the exit. Behind you, you could hear Rutherford's gravelly voice resume his threats, but Rafe's attention remained fixed on your retreating form until you disappeared through the door.

The Bellamy Building loomed like a tombstone against the afternoon sky, its worn brick facade a testament to forgotten glory. Inside, the elevator's slow climb gave you too much time to think – about Rafe's hungry cerulean eyes, his lingering touches that burned like brands, how every "yes, sir" seemed to draw you deeper into his web.

Suite 401 lurked at the end of a dimly lit hallway, distinguished only by tarnished brass numbers. Your knuckles rapped against the door – twice, then three times, just as Rafe had instructed. The sound seemed to echo down the empty corridor.

The door creaked open just enough to reveal a sliver of face: tired eyes beneath greasy long black hair, calculating and cold. "Barry?" Your voice emerged steadier than your racing heart. "Rafe Cameron sent me."

The door groaned wider. Barry matched his surroundings perfectly – disheveled but alert, like a crow picking through society's remains. His office was a study in decay: nicotine-stained walls, flickering fluorescent lights that made everything look diseased, and an ancient desk that had witnessed too many secrets.

"Well, well," Barry's lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile. "Another one of Rafe's girls." He studied you like a specimen under glass. "You know, you're all starting to blur together. Pretty. Proper. Corruptible." The last word dripped with dark amusement.

He slid a small package across the desk, but when you reached for it, his fingers trapped yours. You jerked the package away.

Inescapably, Barry's raspy laugh followed you as you ascended down the hallway, bouncing off the grimy walls like a bad omen. "Tell Rafe his debt's getting steep," he called after you, his voice dripping with dark amusement. "And honey? Better watch yourself! Pretty secretaries like you have a way of… disappearing around Rafe Cameron."

Barry's laughter echoed through the grimy hallway, following you like a shadow as you rushed toward the elevator. Each click of your heels against the worn floor seemed to mock you: Pretty. Proper. Corruptible. The words burrowed into your mind, mixing with memories of Rafe's heated stares and possessive touches.

Your mind kept circling back to Barry's words – "disappearing around Rafe Cameron" – like a moth drawn to a deadly flame. The phrase echoed in your head, mixing with memories of Rafe's possessive touches and hungry stares. Each floor the elevator descended seemed to bring a new question: How many secretaries came before you? Where did they really go?

The package felt heavier in your hands as you realized maybe it wasn't just cocaine Rafe was addicted to – maybe it was the thrill of watching people fall into his web, one pretty secretary at a time.

The elevator doors couldn't close fast enough. In its mirrored walls, your reflection looked different somehow – as if Barry's words had marked you, changed you. Your phone buzzed in your purse, Rafe's name lighting up the screen, and you realized with a shiver that maybe Barry was right. Maybe you were already corrupted – after all, here you were, picking up cocaine for your boss in a building that reeked of broken dreams and dirty money.

But that didn't mean you were corrupted by Rafe specifically… right? This was just part of the job. Just another task, like scheduling meetings or taking notes while he stared at you across the conference table. Just another "yes, sir" in a long line of things you told yourself were purely professional. Even if your heart raced every time he got too close. Even if you kept saying yes to things that crossed every line you'd ever drawn.

You were just doing your job. At least, that's what you kept telling yourself.

Back at Roots, you found Rafe alone, Rutherford's absence heavy in the air. His hands trembled as you passed him the package under the bar, his relief palpable. Without a word, he grabbed your wrist and led you to the private bathroom in the back.

The fluorescent light buzzed overhead as Rafe arranged neat lines on the marble countertop. You turned to leave, but he caught your reflection in the mirror.

"Stay," he commanded softly. Then, more vulnerable: "Please."

You watched as he inhaled sharply, his body relaxing as the cocaine hit his system. When he straightened up, his eyes met yours in the mirror – pupils blown wide, but somehow clearer than before.

"Barry mentioned the money you owe him," you say carefully, your voice echoing off the pristine walls of the family restroom. The fluorescent lights cast harsh shadows across Rafe's sharp features as he straightens up from the sink, wiping his nose with the back of his hand.

"You know what scares me?" Rafe suddenly said, his eyes never leaving you in his backward reflection. "Not the money I owe. Not my father. Not even my fucking addiction." His voice cracked perfectly, a rehearsed break he'd perfected over years of practice.

"I'm nothing but Dad's fuck-up son. A disappointment. A monster." He laughed bitterly, running a trembling hand through his hair. "And you… you're too good. Too pure. The way you look at me like I could be better…" His fingers traced your reflection in the mirror. "It kills me knowing I'll destroy you too. Just like I destroy everything else."

Your heart ached at his words. Without thinking, you turned to face him, reaching up to touch his cheek. "You're not a monster, Mr. Cameron. You're just—"

"Rafe," he interrupted, leaning into your touch. "Please… just call me Rafe."

You saw the vulnerability in his eyes, the pain, the self-loathing. It made you want to save him, to prove him wrong about himself. And that's exactly what he was counting on.

Because what you missed, in that moment of compassion, was the calculating gleam behind his tears. The slight upturn of his lips as you fell perfectly into place. The way his hand tightened possessively on your waist, marking you as his next conquest.

"I need you," he whispered against your palm, knowing exactly how those words would seal your fate. "You're the only one who sees me. Really sees me."

And as you whispered back words of comfort, of understanding, Rafe Cameron smiled into your hand – the same smile he'd worn when the last girl who tried to save him learned exactly what kind of monster he really was.

The bathroom's fluorescent light flickered once, casting strange shadows across his face. In that brief moment of darkness, his mask slipped, revealing something hungry and triumphant in his expression. But by the time the light steadied again, all you could see was the broken man you desperately wanted to fix.

After all, the best predators know exactly how to play wounded.

a/n: thanks for making it to the end of this chapter!! as always all likes comments, and reblog keeps me motivated! 💕🫶🏾

Taglist -

@trapistani @alexxavicry @rafestoothbrush @ttrinity @jjmaybankmylovee @slut4rafey @Itristessedureratoujours @hittmeandtellmeyouremine @yoongling @lilithblackkk

[katsu2ji]

mha boys + their fav thing to do with you (or for you) during the holiday season

a/n: it's my favorite time of the year <3 merry christmas to those who celebrate!! posting this on christmas eve, i hope everyone has the best day <3 ily!

izuku: baking christmas cookies

izuku makes the BEST deserts. his mother taught him when he was young and although he was reluctant to learn at first ("mom, i’m sorry but learning how to make the perfect pie is not my biggest concern right now..."), it's now a skill he's come to appreciate—especially when you're involved. one of his favorite things to do with you, at any point in the year but especially during christmas, is baking cookies—or rather, he's do most of the baking while you're sitting on the countertop watching him do so. there's christmas jazz playing through the space as you both talk about your days, laughing and making a mess that neither of you are too worried about cleaning in the moment. he gives you the spoons to lick when he's finished with them, smiling when you nod your approval of the taste. while they're in the oven, you two dance in the low kitchen light; it's not graceful, by any means, but it's silly and stupid and makes you both feel as though you're the only ones in the world. this warm, love filled kitchen on a cold winter's night, just for the two of you.

katsuki: decorating with you

katsuki would never admit it, but he takes his christmas decorating very seriously. he insists that if you're going to decorate for the holidays, you might as well make it look nice. you ask him to take down the christmas decorations from storage and while he pretends to find the task annoying, he actually is looking forward to doing this with you. he loves seeing how excited you get when he plugs in the lights on the tree and watch as they light up the dark living room, or how much you love the small task of switching out the normal pillows on the couch for the winter themed ones. his favorite part about it all, however, is putting up the ornaments; together you've collected a few over the years, some more heartfelt while others are silly inside jokes between the two of you. he teases you when you put one in a spot he doesn't agree with ("why the fuck did you put it there, that's ugly." "katsuki, no it's not!" "yes the hell it is, move it over here.") and you know it's all lighthearted as you laugh at the faces he makes about your "questionable" placements. this is all such a temporary thing, he knows—the decorations will only be up for about a month and a half, if that. but it's special for him. a time where he can forget about the rest of the world; where he only has to focus on you and your terrible (but endearing) tree decorating skills.

shoto: christmas shopping

when you two go out shopping together, he takes note of anything that you point out and like. later, he comes back after a patrol shift; he tells you he's picking up dinner, and while that's not a total lie and he is going to bring home something, he also needed to make time to pick up your gifts. he has never felt as though he's very good with words, but gifts he can do. and he never stops at one, of course—he makes sure you have a lot. he fills the space under the tree with them, all addressed to you; just when you think there couldn't be any more, you come home to find another two of three presents has been added. he starts his gift shopping earlier in the year, getting things here and there when he can. by december 1st, he's gotten pretty much everything he's been looking for, and he asks fuyumi and his mom to help him wrap them nicely for you (wrapping gifts is unfortunately NOT his strong suit). he's even particular about the wrapping paper he uses, not caring that it's more expensive than others on the market or that it's going to be ripped; these are gifts for you, for christ's sake. he's going to make sure that everything is perfect—that you have the best christmas, every christmas.

eijiro: walking out in the snow

eijiro loves the snow, and he loves the holiday season even more. he loves how magical everything is this time of year, how carefree life feels. when the first snowfall comes one evening, he's making sure both your puffer jacket and his is zipped up all the way and that you're nice and toasty, before practically running outside. you two go for a walk through the city, admiring the way the snow blankets everything around you and makes the world seem softer, lighter. when a breeze comes by, he huddles impossibly closer to you, grabbing your hands and holding them in his coat pocket to warm you up. you two stop at the windows of decorated shops, watching the little toy trains and miniature christmas towns on display in the stores. he looks at your reflection in the window and grins, happy and content, even as the frigid air makes him feel as though he wants to sit in a furnace. he loves moments like these. it's a simple and mundane thing, taking a walk, but something about doing it with you, in an atmosphere that looks as though you've both stepped right into a christmas town in a fairytale, makes him wish for a white christmas every year.

hanta: watching christmas movies

before he met you, hanta had never made it a point to watch christmas movies, really. now, however, it's his favorite tradition. he looks forward to the evenings when the two of you change into your matching christmas-themed pajama pants, having bought them just for the occasion. you go into the kitchen to make hot chocolate while he scrolls through the movie selection, attempting to put on the corniest, dumbest, most cliche hallmark holiday movie he can find. the whole time you both are cuddled on the couch, leaning against each other as you watch the movie together, making fun of the bad acting, the overdone movie tropes, and every other menial detail. you laugh at all the jokes he makes, all the small things he notices and points out to you. the first movie ends, and before either of you can stop yourselves, you've both fallen asleep together on the couch halfway through the third. it's a quiet night, the only sounds being the quiet noise of the still-playing movie and the soft snores of the two of you. when he wakes up first, he doesn't make any effort to wake you immediately, instead opting to watch you sleep peacefully against him. "this is what the holidays are about" he thought, as cheesy as it sounds. he didn't need anything more; he wasn't sure it could be any better than this.

katsu2ji © 2024. please don't copy, modify, or do anything of the sort with my work! i work very hard and you simply do not have my permission.

[nmakii]

christmas kids

about him, who was also born on december 25th. i used to spot your face in every crowd, now i can’t even remember your smile.

— kaiser hates celebrating his birthday. no exceptions; not even for you.

cw: mentions of kaiser’s backstory, gesner being vulgar (im his biggest fan), kaiser is a meany pants, self deprecation

parties like these were a pain. kaiser stood beside his drunken teammates, while ‘all i want for christmas is you’ by mariah carey blasted for the 6th time on loop. it was disgustingly corny how he’d have to act as if he gives a damn to celebrate christmas with his co-workers. if the club owner for bastard münchen hadn’t required attendance for this party, he would’ve definitely skipped it.

to be entirely honest, he never even saw the point of celebrating december 25th. every year, the streets of berlin would be glowing with festive lights, and the halls of cathedrals would loudly ring their church bells.

but in kaiser’s dark corner of hell, his father would beat the life out of him. more so than usual— his eyes would bruise purple for weeks, and his nose wouldn’t stop the stream of red that would bleed all over his ragged clothes.

kaiser had learned from a young age, his birthday wasn’t something that should be celebrated, or even acknowledged. it was the day his scummy mother abandoned his even scummier father; it was the day trash was born. how could such an occasion even be celebrated?

with his birthday being public knowledge though, he doesn’t exactly have a choice on if he wants to celebrate it or not.

as clock struck midnight, everyone yelled out christmas greetings and wishes of good will, as well as greetings for kaiser, now a year older.

“woo! happy birthday, asshat! you’re 19!” gesner, incredibly drunk, slurs to kaiser. “a year closer to your death… in the end, we’re all just waiting for the day we never open our eyes again… oh, this is just too sad…” grim shudders, falling to the ground.

birkenstock pulls grim off the floor, and the team gathers around and very off tunely sings happy birthday to kaiser, while ness struggles to light the candle placed on top of the leftover pizza, yet to be finished.

“…happy birthday to you!” they cheer. “make a wish, kaiser.” ness smiles, holding the box.

‘what do i want..?’ he asks himself. he already has a lot more than he’s ever wanted; a comfortable home, decent company— asking for anything else would just seem… wrong.

the candle gleamed a burning red, its’ shine reflecting on kaiser’s face. the hot flames on his face, and he suddenly realizes what he wants— to be human.

that’s all he’s wanted for the longest time, why should he wish for anything else?

he blows out the candle, and they clap. “you guys didn’t need to do anything, i didn’t want to celebrate my birthday.” he lightly reprimanded. ness frowns, he was the one who had wanted surprise kaiser in the first place.

but, gesner boos at his pessimism. “don’t be a jerk, dick cheese! just accept it!” he roughly slaps kaiser on his back, kicking all the air out of his lungs. “oof..!” he coughs. “g..guh… are you sure you’re a football player? you slap so hard, you’re better suited to volleyball.”

gesner scoffs, and goes off on his rant about kaiser’s narcissism.

‘this environment… it’s hostile but, i’m still in control. this… isn’t that bad.’ kaiser thinks to himself. he doesn’t receive their goodwill; he forces it out of them, and they respond with their own form of resistance. yet, they still pass to him, no matter what. because, he’s the one in charge of this team.

“…and, you keep showing off that pretty thing you’re leaving on the hook. she could totally do better than that ‘will they, won’t they?’ situationship of your’s! seriously makes me feel bad for her…”

…kaiser wasn’t exactly sure what brought gesner to bring you up. but, bringing up your… relationship, was a bit of a sour spot for him.

he wanted to love you, you were someone he wanted to stick around for a while. you were kind, almost heaven-sent. something about you that would make him keep coming back. maybe it was the way you’d wake up early with him and make breakfast together, or the way you’d sass him and put him in his place when he was being an asshole. but, he couldn’t make up his mind on whether or not he should tear down those walls he’s built, and start over for you.

kaiser was used to restrictive environments, he thrived in discomfort. but, being vulnerable simply made his skin crawl with disgust. if it was for someone for you though… maybe he could try it. were you really worth it?

…he thinks you could be.

“it’s not a situationship, we’re just hanging out.” kaiser rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his mocktail. “plus, don’t you already have a girl you’re torturing?” he condescends.

thankfully, the party goes on without a fight starting, or kaiser’s birthday being mentioned anymore further.

and by the time kaiser arrives home, it’s already 2:30. he opens the door into his penthouse apartment.

the light is on.

he’s sure he didn’t leave the light on when he had left, there’s only one other explanation.

“s/o?” he called out.

you probably used the spare key for his apartment he gave you after much more frequent visits. did you think he was home?

“ah, hey!” you finally noticed his presence, waving hello. kaiser still had a suspicious glare on his face, his malice evident simply by his tone. “what are you doing here?”

“it’s your birthday!”

“so?”

“so, it has to be celebrated..! it was the day you were born after all.” you brainlessly informed him.

“i don’t celebrate it.” he sighs as he finally shuts the front door, dropping all his belongings on the console table.

“it’s the same day as christmas. it’s a hassle to celebrate two things.” he says the same excuse he’s used millions of times before but today, his act was getting sloppy. it’s clear by his sullen eyes that it’s more than just because it’s a hassle.

“uhuh… well, i made you a cake!”you urge him to come over. of course, it was a box set cake, but you still put tons of effort into decorating it!

what does he do? he wasn’t exactly sure on how to accept gifts in general. he passed through the narrow hall, and into the dining area.

he stared at the cake— it’s frosted in white french buttercream and its’ edges are piped blue with a french star tip. ‘happy birthday mikka’, it reads.

mikka… that isn’t a nickname that you’ve called him before. but, it’s cute. fuck, did he actually like this gift..?

‘…how sweet.’ he thinks. kaiser picked up the box with both his hands, his touch was so delicate. he carried the cake over to the kitchen counter,

…and opened the trash.

“hey! what are you doing..?!” you run to stop him from dumping your hard work into the garbage.

it doesn’t stop him though, it doesn’t even make him struggle. “i told you i don’t celebrate it.” he huffs as some of the cake crumbles and stains his hands.

he takes a frosting-covered finger to his lips, indulging in his salty sweet taste. “ah… it’s good.” he compliments. something that only happens to make you angrier.

“then why did you throw it in the garbage, asshole?!” you yell out. how insensitive could a person get?!

“i already told you, or are those ears of your’s just for decoration?” he scoffs, the air is heavy.

and at that moment, he knew it.

michael kaiser is not meant to love, or be loved.

…

“get out.” he commands. his cold eyes hit you like a dagger. “h..huh..?” you ask, indignant at how you were being treated.

you knew kaiser would be hard to unravel but, why is he acting so different so suddenly?

“i said get out. i already decided…”

“…we’re over, s/o” he decreed. “whatever romance you and i might have had is gone. go find someone else to care about you. i’m not gonna fit your romantic fantasy.”

“i— wait, mikka, we can work this out, okay..?!” you ask, a panicked expression decorating your face. “goddamnit, fine— i’m sorry for calling you an asshole, okay?!”

you sound almost desperate in your tone. but, it still doesn’t shake his decision. “no… get out. find someone who can fulfill that fantasy of your’s, i’m never gonna be the perfect boyfriend that you’re dreaming about. understand?”

and, the cold reality faces you. a look of despair on your face, it’s incredibly pathetic to be in this low of a position right now.

ah, that look on your face… he’ll miss that look of terror and desperation, on your face especially. the way your pretty eyes gleam with tears, and the way your nose scrunches, trying to hold back your snot.

“…fine. i hope you’re happy with your life, kaiser.” you spitefully spit out. his chest hurts when he hears you call him by his last name. did that hurt him..? just a little bit…

…and, that’s when kaiser asks himself the same question.

were you really worth tearing down everything he’s known just to build it all up again?

the answer was yes. you’re worth everything money could afford; you’re as priceless as every star in the sky.

it was kaiser who wasn’t worth it. you deserved more than a scummy asshole who’s too scared love.

but, that’s just the problem with kaiser, isn’t it?

the closer he wants you, the more he pushes you away.

[officeobject]

I have NEVER seen nor imagined, cheaper chewlry (you can sort and find some really cheap ones)! I haven't bought from the website yet though, just looked around a bit. They have a lot of pretty things - like, really pretty things, which is rare for me to think in regards to shops. I don't like that I don't know which are good for tough chewers sometimes though (chewlry-wise), and that the tough ones might cost significantly more (though that is common and understandable - and they ARE made to last more and longer), but yeah, there's various styles of stuff, including jewelry (that you fidget with), which can look pretty, discrete, or like they belong on some generic clothing/jewelry/fashion site, so I haven't gotten anything (but might), and they definitely on the surface, appear to have what the advertised goal is - like, seriously, fashion fidgets for work, are right there, and they even have a few ones in pride flag colors - I FECKING FOUND ARO, ACE, AND EVEN POLYSEXUAL! IT'S LIKE EVERYONE OTHERWISE FORGETS POLY AND I'M, AGAIN, AROACE, BUT STILL (but trisexuals + triromantics get forgotten even MORE, LOL, but also they do be falling under the multisexual + multiromantic umbrella terms though), so yeah, that's very exciting!

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We carry a lot of your standard fidgets you’d expect like push pops, fidget spinners and similar.

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[frogaroundandfindout]

I used to give the 'lazarus pit madness' trope for jason so much shit unless it was a REALLY good fic that did something interesting with the idea. But the more I read of pre52 red hood the more I'm just like "yeah no I have absolutely no idea how I'd reconcile all this heinous shit he's done without finding a way to make it not his fault actually"

I hate the 'jason was always a monster and bruce couldn't save him' nonsense so much, he was literally just a homeless little boy. MY BUDDY LITERALLY WILLINGLY WENT BACK TO BEING HOMELESS BECAUSE HE DIDN'T WANT TO HURT PEOPLE FOR MA GUNN EVEN THOUGH IT MEANT GIVING UP FOOD AND SHELTER AND DECENT TREATMENT

jason sweetheart I'm so sorry dc butchered you like this my god

When the characterization is so inconsistent the fandom has to resort to literal magic to explain it.

But seriously, I haven’t read a whole lot of Jason as Robin but from what I did read he was so tiny and just wanted to do good. It’s a disservice to every character involved for Bruce to adopt him because he thought he’d be a criminal otherwise. It implies Bruce thinks of every kid living in poverty as a shoe in for crime and not as some of the most vulnerable individuals in low SE areas. Which is just…so bad considering he’s 1) a rich white man stereotyping a large group of people and 2) someone that fights crime because of an act of violence commited in front of him as a little boy. A Batman that doesn’t believe in the goodness of a child (especially one like Jason who, like you said, gave up basic necessities for the sake of his morals) and protecting it in a way he wasn’t protected is a very very weird Batman to me. So it turns Bruce into a white knight and redhood into confirmation of Bruce’s stereotyping and paranoia.

If it was just Jason thinking that’s why Bruce took him in it would be a completely different animal. I might have even enjoyed reading about how Jason rationalized their changed relationship after he came back swinging (literally) and thinking that it’s some innate characteristic about him that drove the wedge between him and Bruce before he even realized it was there. But it’s very much not just Jason. EVERYONE. FUCKING. SAYS. IT. And tbh that kinda ruins everyone just a bit in my eyes. If not agreement and support for Bruce’s bs, they’re at least silently complicit in perpetuating it.

But beyond that, it also makes me think of Devin Grayson’s run where she kept talking about how dick was “meant for crime” or would have obviously been a criminal if it wasn’t for Bruce. This was built on frankly awful stereotypes regarding Romani people. I bring this one up because the combination of the two does not make Bruce look as good as the writers seemed to think.

But if we ignore the bs involved and take the reason for Jason’s adoption at face value, I think it offers an interesting comparison between him and Damian. Jason is presented a child destined for a life of crime who eventually became one of The Villains despite Batman’s efforts. Damian was an heir destined for crime who eventually became one of The Heroes because of Batman’s efforts. Idk it’s just interesting to me.

[ghoulangerlee]

Merry Christmas everyone, please have this unedited dewther heat smut 😁

A few things: aether's in heat but dew isn't in a rut and as such, there isn't knotting in the literal sense, but dew does have funky anatomy that emulates a knot outside of his ruts! (As always he's ribbed for aether's pleasure)

aether can be read as trans here though his genitalia are referred to by masculine terms!

Technical double penetration in one hole for a scene but this is all wholly consensual!

But whew this is 4k, and fought me the entire time I wrote it so please enjoy!

-------

There’s a warmth settled across his hips, burning heat in his belly that feels more outward than anything, calling to him, pulling him out of his deep and restless sleep—groggy, he groans and opens his eyes slowly.

“Hey there Starshine,” Dew murmurs with a private little smile, reaching out to cup his warm hand against Aether’s cheek. “What a sight for sore eyes you are,” he continues, knees digging into the bed as he shifts forward, bowing over so he can press a soft kiss to Aether’s lips.

Aether signs into it, gives into the weight of Dew sitting over him, the line of heat he can feel even through the t-shirt he’s wearing.

There is still the low simmer of his own heat, burning just under the surface of his skin, but he ignores it in favor of wrapping his arms around the fire ghoul on top of him, rolling them over into his nest until Dew’s under him and he can press his face into the hollow of his throat, inhaling deeply.

Dew’s scent is there but barely recognizable, covered by the thick and sterile scent of travel and other people and Aether doesn’t realize that he’s growling until Dew’s shushing him.

“Promised I’d wake you with a kiss, didn’t I?” he asks, fingers sinking into Aether’s hair to tug at the strands, using his grip to draw Aether’s attention back to him and not his scent, “The shower would have woken you up and you’d be all pouty about it because you didn’t get a kiss first,” he murmurs, and his tone is only a little condescending, but mostly fond, a teasing sort of glint in his eyes as he speaks to him.

Aether narrows his eyes at him, torn between wanting to bare his teeth at Dew and wanting to admit he’s right, of course he is. He’s always right about Aether’s little quirks, even if he’s a bit mean sometimes.

Instead, he huffs and rolls off of Dew and onto his back—he doesn’t really feel much like talking and Dew seems to get that if the huff of laughter he lets out is anything to go by.

“You’re so cute,” Dew says, seriously and full of love as he sits up and works open the buttons on his shirt, “I’m going to shower and then we’ll see about getting some food in you,” he turns on the bed and leans over, pressing a sweet kiss to Aether’s cheek, “You doing okay right now, though, right big guy?” he murmurs the words against his skin, watching Aether’s eyes flutter closed.

He hums softly, turning his head enough to brush his lips over the corner of Dew’s mouth, he doesn’t speak, but a low sort of purr rumbles in his chest as he pulls away from the kiss and instead nuzzles at Dew’s jaw.

“Like a big ol kitty cat,” Dew mumbles with a little laugh, petting through Aether’s hair for a moment, “I’ll be back,” he promises, finally putting some space between them, watching as Aether settles back into the nest, head lolling back against the pillow with a pleased sort of smile on his face.

He stands from the bed and strips out of his shirt, losing his pants on the way to the bathroom, knowing he’s on borrowed time now, the clock ticking before Aether’s heat settles in for good.

At some point, he returns, though Aether’s not quite sure when or how long he’d spent in the shower, focusing instead, on the warmth of Dew climbing into the nest, shuffling Aether into his arms and pressing a kiss into his hair.

“Rain’s going to bring some food by,” Dew murmurs, pressing a warm palm against his back, “Should be here in about an hour, should have time to nap if you’re tired, big guy.”

Aether hums softly and nuzzles his way up to the hinge of Dew’s jaw, inhales the scent of heat and something entirely too enticing, too Dew for him to ignore—he exhales loudly and drags his tongue over Dew’s skin, shuddering in his arms as the scent of his mate settles something inside him.

Dew tilts his head back against the pillow, eyes fluttering closed as he sinks his fingers into Aether’s hair, petting at his scalp, “You’ve been working too hard, baby,” he murmurs after a few moments, his voice gentle and concerned, “Me and Copia leaving you behind really pulled you into an early heat, didn’t it?” he asks, rhetorical, the hand in his hair slipping down to cup the back of Aether’s neck and squeeze.

Aether groans, melts more into Dew’s arms, snuffling at his throat, and, if he thinks about it, pushes aside Dew’s scent and the heat in his belly, then yeah, all of this started shortly after Copia and Dew had left, after Dew had kissed him and bedded him down for the last time for a while—it hadn’t been anything different from their usual couplings, but Aether remembers feeling despondent when Dew had kissed him one last time, a smile on his lips as he murmured his love into Aether’s mouth and Aether had clung to him just a little bit tighter than normal.

“Cu could smell it,” Dew continues to speak, squeezing the back of his neck again and leaning down to press a kiss to the crown of his head, “Could smell that you were spiraling; it’s so hard for you to be away from your mate when you’re going into your heat, right?” he asks, there’s a kindness there that Aether grabs at, and he makes a noise, in agreement he thinks, and Dew laughs a little, fond and happy, “Poor thing,” he coos, nuzzling his temple, “I didn’t think—” he pauses, “I didn’t realize you were going into heat, baby, otherwise I’d stayed with you, brought you here the right way,” he slides his palm up Aether’s back, slow and gentle, “Instead of letting you get yourself worked up like this.”

Aether shakes his head, lifts his head so he can kiss Dew instead, hopes that the but you’re here now comes across even without him actually saying it and when they break apart, Dew’s smiling up at him.

“Okay, okay,” he says softly, scratching his nails against Aether’s scalp again—something Aether loves only when he’s in heat but loathes most times when he’s not, letting Aether tuck his head into his throat again, “Think you can rest for me, big guy? Nap a bit while we wait for food?”

And well, Aether does feel tired, among other things, the low simmer of heat beneath his skin, the empty feeling in his stomach—beyond all of that, there is a tiredness in his bones, one that has his eyes feeling heavy, he snuffles against Dew’s skin, settles all of his weight in a way that would surely squish anyone else, but Dew revels in.

“That’s it, big guy,” Dew mumbles, slides his other hand under Aether’s shirt, palm settling warm against his lower back, “I’ll wake you when it’s time to eat,” he promises, draws a little heart into cool skin with a warm fingertip, smiling when Aether snuffles again, goes still, resting.

Dew sighs quietly, tipping his head back against the pillow and allowing his own eyes to flutter closed, surrounded by the scent of his mate and their nest.

-

Aether wakes first—to the scent of food and to the fading scent of wetness, pack and a voice in the back of his mind whispering predatorpredatorpredator, when he cracks his eyes open and lifts his head, there’s no one else in the room, but the scent of something makes him whine a little, press his face into Dew’s throat again to block it all out.

Dew’s hands, which had stopped moving sometime when he’d fallen asleep, jolt as Aether moves, nails dig briefly into the sensitive skin of his lower back, drawing a hiss from him before Dew’s moving, shifting under him and grumbling a bit at being woken up.

“Everything alright, big guy?” Dew mumbles, voice low and laced with tiredness as he pats at Aether’s skin, soothing over the ache and it takes him a minute, to wake up, to wheeze out a breath as Aether settles all of his weight on him, as if trying to settle inside him.

“Someone was here,” Aether manages, the words a little rough from disuse, his voice cracking at the end—he doesn’t sound weak, no, but there’s something vulnerable there that he can’t hide. “I know it was probably just Rain, but—” he stops speaking then, feeling somewhat like a fool for thinking ill of his own packmate.

Dew’s hand slips from under his shirt so he can cup the sides of his head instead, drawing him up and out of his throat so he can stare into Aether’s eyes—they're a little droopy, somewhat sad, tired—the weight of a once in a lifetime heat settling heavily in his demeanor. “Hey, Aeth,” he murmurs, gentle and careful, “It’s okay, I should have told Rain to leave the food at the door,” he tips Aether’s head to the side, leans up as much as he can so he can scent the quintessence ghoul, rubbing a cheek against the underside of his jaw. “S’okay, he didn’t come in the nest, he would never,” he promises softly, tips his head and presses a sweet kiss to his skin.

Aether exhales loudly and after a moment, settles down against Dew again, tension seeping from his body as he lets Dew tip his head to the side so he can mouth along his jaw, “Sorry you gotta deal with this whenever my heat comes around,” he mumbles, feeling only a little bit sorry about the way his emotions seem to spark in a way that makes something dark twist in his belly.

Dew smiles against his skin, sinks both his hands in Aether’s fluffy hair before drawing him into a proper kiss, “None of that,” he murmurs fondly, “I love how you are when you’re in heat, baby.” he kisses him again, longer and slower this time, until he feels Aether pawing at his sides, “So sweet for me, aren’t you darling?”

He hums something, low and infernal, tongue too heavy in his mouth to form proper words as he tries to chase Dew’s mouth, the thought of Rain’s scent in the room fading to the back of his mind, pinpoint focus solely on his mate under him now.

“Sweet thing,” Dew coos, kissing Aether on the mouth again, “I want to feed you now, alright? Something easy—” he pauses, glances over at the tray left by the bed, “Looks like there’s some fruit, do you think you could eat that for me?” he asks, cupping the side of Aether’s face, nudging their noses together.

Aether makes a noise, something half agreement, he could eat—there's an emptiness in his stomach that isn’t from his heat, and he tries to think back to when he last ate something substantial, scattered thoughts coming up with nothing after several long moments.

He’s rewarded with another kiss, chaste and sweet against his mouth, the taste of Dew clinging to his lips even as the fire ghoul pulls away from him.

“I’ll need to get the food, darling,” Dew murmurs, slipping an arm around Aether and rolling them onto their sides until Aether’s sprawled in the nest, half under him. “Stay right there,” he says, nudges Aether’s wandering hands away before he slips off of him, most likely to grab the tray.

Of course, Aether knows this, but that doesn’t stop the disgruntled sound that leaves his mouth, arms flopping uselessly to the bed—he may crave to keep Dew close when the heat itches at his skin, but listening to Dew and staying where he’s told to tend to overpower that need, the want to be good for his mate making him lay moodily in the bed while Dew slips out of it to grab food.

“I can feel your ire from here, babe,” Dew says with a little laugh, fond and full of love, “I’m just grabbing some fruit,” he turns away from the bed and that’s when Aether notices that he’s naked still.

Dew’s pale on the best of days, something left over from being born into the world a water ghoul, but he’s got some color to his skin now in his half-shifted state—lines of scales clustered in his lower back and along the length of his shoulders that should have scabbed over once the transformation had completed instead shifted with his temperament, now an iridescent burgundy color that seemed to sparkle in the low light of Aether’s bedroom.

His shoulders not broad, but wide and comforting, telling of the hidden strength beneath his skin, muscle coiled tightly, rippling with his movement as he reaches out to grab a few of the bowls from the tray.

Something happy settles deep in Aether’s belly at the sight of his mate, of the subtle power beneath his skin, his firm touch, the way he knows exactly what Aether needs before he even has to say it.

When Dew turns back around, his eyebrow is raised—there's another cluster of scales above his left eye, fading up into his temple and hairline and Aether’s gaze is drawn there for a moment—not that it matters, because Dew knows him, could probably guess what he was thinking about just now.

It brings a flush of color to his cheeks and as much as he wants to bring his hands in and cover his face, he doesn’t because there’s nothing more satisfying that having Dew’s dark gaze on him, taking in his body—the way his shirt’s rucked itself half up his chest and his underwear sit now just below the heft of his stomach, it’d taken him a bit to get used to it, get used to the honest gaze from the fire ghoul, the way it made him feel desired in every single way possible.

“Good boy,” Dew says, voice a little rough as he steps back closer to the bed, cradling two bowls against his chest, but Aether’s gaze is drawn downwards, where his cock is starting to chub up now. “Hey,” the fire ghoul says, a bit sharp, drawing Aether’s gaze back up to his face immediately, “None of that yet, food first.”

There’s a voice in the back of his mind, dark and demanding that whispers you are my food, the words wanting to slip out, but he bites his tongue and nods, shifts his weight back up against the pillows he’d been left on.

He rolls over onto his belly, buries his face into the pillow to breathe in Dew’s scent—somewhere behind him he hears the fire ghoul laugh and the bed dip as he climbs back up onto it.

“C’mon big guy,” Dew says, resting a warm hand on the small of Aether’s back, “Let me see your pretty face, feed you some fruit, yeah?”

Aether huffs and rolls onto his side, shifting until he can rest his cheek on Dew’s bare thigh, eyes fluttering closed at the feel of warm skin against his own slightly cooler skin, a pleased noise leaving his mouth when he curls a hand around Dew’s ankle.

Dew smiles down at him and places the bowls down by his thigh, “There you are,” he murmurs, carding his fingers through Aether’s hair, scratching his nails gently against his scalp, “Just like a big cat,” he coos, feeling Aether lean into the touch, “Are you going to be a good boy and eat for me now?”

It’s an innocent question but oh, it makes the heat stir in Aether’s belly, makes him press his legs together tightly, eyes fluttering back open to stare up at Dew. He licks his lips and nods, turns his head to press a barely there kiss against his bare thigh before he tips his chin up and opens his mouth, tongue lolling out, patient and waiting.

Dew’s fingers clench in Aether’s hair, just for a moment, before he composes himself again, his cock chubbing up more where it’s resting against his inner thigh, “Good boy,” he says, voice a little rough as he gently places a cut strawberry on Aether’s tongue.

He makes eye contact with Dew as he pulls it into his mouth, chewing it slowly before swallowing it—when he opens his mouth again, his tongue is a bit pinker than before.

“Seven hells, Aeth,” Dew mutters, mostly to himself, feeding him another bite of strawberry, “Such a good boy for me.”

Aether makes a happy sound in his throat, graciously accepts the fruit that Dew continues to offer him, until he’s polished off the strawberries and eaten half of the pineapple chunks, his lips sticky and tacky with fruit juice, heat burning bright as his mate continues to care for him.

Dew’s mostly hard now, his determination to make sure Aether’s fed and well cared for waning away now that there’s less fruit in the bowl—Aether's scent growing sweeter the more content he gets.

Aether squeezes Dew’s ankle, turns his head away when Dew goes to offer him another bite of fruit and instead, mouths at Dew’s thigh, panting wetly against warm skin.

“Alright darling,” Dew murmurs, moving the bowls off of the bed, stretching his body as much as he can to get them placed somewhere stable—on the table or the floor, he’s not really focused, loses the last bit of pineapple in the bowl to the floor as he feels Aether tug at his leg. “I’ve got you,” he promises as he clamps a hand around the back of Aether’s neck, squeezes tight. “Let me take care of you, Aeth.”

A noise looses its way from Aether’s throat as he goes limp over his lap, the firm hand on the back of his neck keeping him in place. He wants to beg, plead for something, but Dew’s words, his promise to take care of him keep the words inside him.

“Good boy,” Dew murmurs again, presses his thumb against the side of Aether’s neck, where he can feel his pulse hammering away, “You’re so good, doing so well for me,” he continues, hissing a little as he gets a hand around himself. “Tongue out, big guy.”

Aether’s eager, tongue lolling out once more, the silver of his eyes swallowed up by the constellation of his iris as he tries to get closer—impatient, but Dew shushes him, squeezes the back of his neck in warning and Aether backs off, waits, patient and good.

“Good boy,” Dew repeats again, angles his cock to press against the flat of Aether’s tongue, cool and wet against his heated skin, “Shit, you’re such a good boy,” he murmurs with a moan, eyes fluttering closed.

He whines, the noise lodged low in his throat as Dew’s cock slides over his tongue, as one of Dew’s hands comes to gently cup his cheek, he doesn’t move—he waits, just like he’s supposed to, the salty, musky taste of precome heavy in his senses.

“Good boy,” Dew whispers in awe, looking down at the constellation flush across Aether’s dark cheeks, the way his lashes seem extra-long as they fan across the apples of his cheeks, eyes closed and content as he waits for Dew to tell him what to do next.

“You can suck,” Dew mumbles, traces the pad of his thumb over the corner of Aether’s mouth as the quintessence ghoul hollows his cheeks and sucks, moaning around his mouthful, already so far down. “Shit,” he whispers, cradles his cheek with a shaky hand as Aether drags his tongue against the ridge along the underside of his cock.

The heat in his veins burns brightly, urging him to take more, the promise of Dew’s come spilling inside him has him hungry for more, for keeping his mouth here, around Dew as long as he can, until the fire ghoul can’t take it anymore—he drifts, doubling his efforts as the hand on his cheek guides him to take more, to bob his head along the length in his mouth, until the lines blur together, until he’s no longer sure where Dew begins and he ends.

Aether’s scent blossoms into something sweet, swelling inside the room as he all but chokes himself on Dew’s cock, cheeks hollowed as he sucks him off enthusiastically and Dew feels a pull to it—he’s not rutting, but Satan Below, if anything could pull him head first into a rut, it would be Aether’s scent, cloying his senses until he can taste it.

“Babe, baby, babe,” Dew says, breathless, voice rough as he squeezes the back of Aether’s neck, uses his grip to ease him off of his cock after what feels like hours, shushes the quintessence ghoul when he whines for it. “Hey, hey, big guy, it’s alright, you’re stinkin’ up the place with need and I wanna make you feel good too,” he murmurs, placating, thumb brushing over Aether’s thundering pulse, “Lay on your back for me, sweetheart, let me get my mouth on you, my fingers in you.”

Aether makes a wild noise then, surges up despite Dew’s grip and tackles him to the bed, settling all of his weight over the fire ghoul, underwear sticky and wet as he grinds down against the curve of Dew’s cock—it pulls pleasantly, sates something animalistic and dirty he can’t quite name as he dips down and kisses Dew, his mate, firmly on the mouth.

Dew’s hands grapple at Aether’s waist, gripping his hips tight enough to leave indents behind as he guides his hips, making wounded little noises into the kiss, moaning as Aether bullies his mouth open, sucks on his tongue like he’s sucking cock all the while he’s getting wetter and wetter until he’s dripping through his underwear, slicking up Dew’s cock, getting his pubes saturated and wet—something that makes Aether purr, the animal inside him pleased at how he’s making his mate smell like him, how their scents are so intertwined it’s hard to tell whose is who’s.

Dew sucks in a sharp breath when Aether finally pulls away from the kiss, dives down and instead mouths along his neck and throat, tasting his skin and sweat and Dew feels an impatience bubble up in him, a need to provide that feels almost like rut but isn’t quite there.

His nails are sharp before he can think about it too long, easily slicing through the thin material of Aether’s underwear—he doesn’t dare move the ghoul on top of him as he pulls away shredded, soaked cotton until Aether’s blissfully bare.

His scent stronger now, no longer muted by cloth and Dew wastes no time slipping his hand between their bodies, nails dull and human as he sinks two fingers into Aether’s wet, clutching heat.

Aether moans wetly against Dew’s throat, shifts his knees further apart and sinks back onto his fingers, burning from the inside out—he can’t find the words, can’t help the way he all but rides Dew’s hand, wanting, needing everything that the fire ghoul is willing to give.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” Dew manages to murmurs, curls his fingers and presses against the spot inside him that has his toes curling, “Just need to get you ready, baby, babe, just gotta make sure it’s good for you.”

He tolerates it for a bit, sucks a bruise into Dew’s clavicle, grinding down on the fingers inside him, mindless with pleasure, but the heat builds, grows exponentially until it feels like an inferno, he thinks he makes a noise, something pained, but he fights his own body’s faculties to get a hand down between his legs, to get it around Dew’s cock, babbling something as he guides the head of it where he’s already split open around Dew’s fingers.

A whine catches in his throat, and Dew doesn’t stop fingering him, even as the head of his cock pops inside, stretching him to nearly beyond what he can handle.

Dew shushes him, cards fingers through his hair as the fingers inside him press insistently against the spot inside him that has him shaking, “You can take it, baby, you just need it so much you can’t wait, I know, but I’ve still got to stretch you, even if you’ve already got me inside.”

Aether makes a pitiful sound, grinds against the fingers and cock inside him until Dew slips into him a bit more, fingers buried knuckle deep, the ridge on his cock pressing teasingly against his hole, almost inside him.

He sobs then, when Dew’s fingers crook up and he gets a thumb against his dick, rubbing circles against the sensitive head where he’s sticky and hard—his body clenching up right around fingers and cock alike as he comes, a gushing flood of slick covering them, a pitchy moan leaving his mouth when the fingers slip out of Dew’s cock slides into him fully.

He's being shifted around, thighs wide over Dew’s hips, shaky knees digging into the bed as he sits fully on Dew’s cock, clenching rhythmically around it—the hard ridge satiates a dirty desire in him to be knotted full—Dew’s cock pressing up inside him in all the right places, keeping him full and happy.

He grinds his hips down, small little circles and Dew hisses, digs heady bruises into his skin as he holds him, guides him—he’s babbling, calling him a good boy all the while the slick mess between them grows.

"Good boy, good boy, good boy,” Dew whispers through clenched teeth as Aether milks his cock, coaxing him closer and closer to his orgasm, he gets his hand on Aether’s cock again, circling slick fingers around it and rubbing, rubbing oh so carefully as he guides Aether into another orgasm, the quintessence ghoul shouting as he undulates on top of him, in his lap.

Dew guides him down into a kiss, hand on the back of his neck as he fucks up into him, Aether’s body sated and limp, happy—he feels Aether’s teeth, sharp, on his bottom lip and that’s all it really takes for him to drive up into Aether a few more times, coming with a harsh cry into the kiss, nails digging into the back of Aether’s neck.

He whines, pulls away from the kiss and shoves his face into Dew’s throat, shaking a little as he settles, as the flood of come inside him stops that voice in the back of his mind, the begging, begging, begging that’d been itching beneath his skin for days.

Finally quiet.

Dew’s arm slides around Aether’s lower back, settles there, warm and steady as he rolls them, until Aether’s on his back and Dew’s laying between his splayed legs, still hard enough to stay inside, to keep him plugged and full—there’s an itch of oversensitivity in the back of his mind but he pushes it out of his mind as Aether’s content purr rumbles beneath him, vibrates his chest, his own answering sound coming from somewhere deep within.

They’ll have to move, at some point, when Aether’s a little more aware, when the ache in his legs and thighs call for a change in position, when he’s able to form a coherent word once more, but for now, Dew is content to pepper kisses against Aether’s forehead and listen to him purr as the first round of heat settles.

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Jade Leech - Room Relaxation Vignette

"Happy Birthday"

[Mostro Lounge]

Jade: …I see. I've grasped the information you've just brought me. I shall inform Azul about it immediately.

Jamil: Seriously. Why'd I have to be the one stuck coming all the way to the Mostro Lounge to deliver the Headmage's message?

Jade: Heh, my sincerest apologies. I'm afraid our esteemed manager likes to scold us if we are on our phones during work.

Jamil: And what's that manager of yours doing, anyway? If I could've just been able to get in contact with him, I wouldn't have had to come all the way here.

Jade: He is conducting business in the VIP Room. I'm sure he's turned off his phone so as to not be rude to his guest.

Jade: Although, I suppose it's a shame. I rather would have had you come tomorrow instead of today, Jamil-san.

Jamil: Tomorrow? Is there something going on tomorrow? …No, nevermind. Forget I asked.

Jade: ACTUALLY, YOU SEE! It is our birthday tomorrow.

Jamil: Whew. I was a little worried as to what it could've been… But yeah, I guess it is your guys' birthday tomorrow.

Jamil: Good thing I came today, then.

Jamil: Who knows what'd you two'd be bugging me about if I actually came on the day of.

Jade: I would never bug you… I would have been content with a simple birthday greeting.

Jamil: Yeah, sure. Though I'm pretty sure your brother wouldn't let me slide with just a few words.

Jamil: Maybe I should prepare something ahead of time before things get dicey… Alright then, I'll be heading back now.

Jamil: Thanks for passing on the message to Azul. And… Have a good birthday.

Jade: Of course, thank you very much.

Jade: We look forward to serving you again. Please return home safely.

Jade: Phew, it seems all the customers have finally left. Today was yet another successfully busy day.

Jade: Now then, everyone, I leave cleaning of the lounge to you all. I'll go take stock of inventory…

[Octavinelle Student A appears]

Jade: Oh? I'm pretty sure your duty station was in the kitchen was it not? You should be starting to close everything down, why are you here in the lounge?

Jade: Floyd should be in the kitchen today, as well. Don't come to me if you've made him ang... [Octavinelle Student A speaks] Eh? Floyd got bored and left?

Jade: Well then, I suppose I'll head towards the kitchen. I'll leave it to all of you to finish cleaning the lounge.

[Octavinelle Dorm – Jade's Room]

[Floyd speaks]

Jade: Ah, Floyd. Because you left as you did, the kitchen was in such disarray.

[Floyd speaks]

Jade: …Oh my, you saw through me immediately.

Jade: Everyone finished their tasks quite efficiently after I kindly spoke with them.

[Floyd speaks]

Jade: Heh, it seems I'll be able to take my time to enjoy my little hobbies today. I'll have to be quick with my shower.

Jade: Now…

Jade: What should I start with tonight?

[Octavinelle Dorm – Jade's Room]

Jade: First, I'll check up on my terrariums… Ah no, the moss is starting to dry out.

Jade: I should water it well. I'll pour some water into the spray bottle, and…

[spray, spray]

Jade: …This looks fine enough. The moss is looking good and moist.

Jade: It looks almost completely different from when it was dried up… Fufu, I don't think I could ever get tired of observing moss like this.

Jade: …......

Jade: …AH, WH-WHAT'S THIS!?

Jade: The rock that I had been carefully observing for so long… It's covered in some green substance that I'm sure wasn't there this morning!

Jade: This color, this shape…!! It looks very similar to what I saw on page 487 of my Moss Encyclopedia.

[slams book open]

Jade: "When dry, the fronds become as spindly as thread; when moist, they take on a unique appearance."

Jade: "This moss is exceedingly rare, and as such the exact location and environment most suitable for growth is not well known."

Jade: Aah… As I expected…! It was absolutely worth observing this flora, without knowing if it was even a type of moss or not.

Jade: Look here, Floyd! I've obtained a rare species of moss!

[Floyd flips a page in his book]

Jade: He's… Reading, I see. It is a shame that I cannot share this exciting occasion with him, but I suppose I shouldn't press it today.

Jade: It would truly be regrettable if I brought about his ire and he damaged this rare specimen in the process.

Jade: Oh yes, I cannot just leave it like this. I should take a picture and jot down its information in my notebook!

Jade: Ah, right, I suppose I should fill this out while I am at my desk, as well.

「Survey on Quality of Life Improvements for the Student Body」

Jade: Quality of life improvements, hm… I think I would wish for a more suitable environment to raise my terrariums.

Jade: Just because a place is suitable for humans to live in, that does not mean that plants or moss will thrive in the same way.

Jade: I've had plants wither away in the shade without knowing that they require a location bathed in sunlight…

Jade: I've even had mushrooms grow from the moss simply because the temperature and humidity were too high…

Jade: That incident was the absolute worst.

Jade: When I returned to my room, the mushroom spores had spread so fervently that the terrarium was completely unsalvageable…

Jade: The cause of that disaster was painfully apparent. It was all due to the fact that I could not control the temperature, humidity, nor the necessary daylight in my room.

Jade: In order to resolve such issues, it would be best to ensure everyone has their own room, regardless of year…

Jade: Or, at the very least, I'd like it if we could partition the rooms completely.

Jade: If only because there was one time that I had purchased a large humidifier, but Floyd broke it, saying he hated how muggy it made the room.

Jade: If we were able to have our individual spaces, then I could install a humidifier, a heater, or even add more windows to regulate natural light… AH!

Jade: Right, Octavinelle is located underwater, so we would also have to take into account levels of salt in the air.

Jade: I'll put "The buildings should be reinforced to be resistant to salt pollution." …Or perhaps I should just request that the whole dormitory be protected by a stronger layer of magic…

Jade: …Hm, there isn't much space to write my response on this survey. I even had to fully utilize the reverse side of the paper.

Jade: If I were able to provide a better environment for the moss to thrive in, then we should be able to increase their number and spread them even further. Heh, and thus my dreams are spread further.

[Octavinelle Dorm – Jade's Room]

Jade: …..

[Jade's eyes snap open]

Jade: It seems I've awoken before my alarm today, as well.

Jade: I'm sure Floyd won't wake for some time, so I should go and freshen up while I can.

[Octavinelle Dorm – Washroom]

Jade: It stays unruly even if I wet it… Haah, it seems my bedhead today is a stubborn foe.

Jade: I'll leave fixing my hair until the end, so for now, I should focus on my makeup routine.

Jade: The most important thing to take into account is protecting my skin from the sun. Sunscreen is to be applied evenly everywhere… Ah, yes, and I cannot forget my ears, either.

Jade: After that, I'll do my eye makeup, and apply a lip balm with further sunscreen protection…

Jade: Now, we get down to this unruly hair… I'll turn on the hair iron…

Jade: I'll grab the end of the length by my ear and move the flat iron down towards my fingertips while trying to give it a light curl.

Jade: …

Jade: …It came out too straight.

Jade: I thought I had twisted the end properly… I suppose I did not curl it enough. I'll try again…

Jade: …This time the strands are too springy, I must have added too much of a curl.

Jade: It seems my opponent is a fierce one this morning… How fascinating. I shall meet them head on.

Jade: After all, making a proper "J" is a difficult task… One that I find extremely worthwhile!

[Octavinelle Dorm – Jade's Room]

Jade: After fixing my hair, next is my usual… Wonderful, everything has come out perfectly.

Jade: Not a single wrinkle to be found. Ahh… I do love to see freshly ironed shirts in the morning.

Jade: I can feel my own mood slowly get better with each wrinkle smoothed out of my clothes.

Jade: Now, I just need to iron my handkerchief.

Jade: A black handkerchief, without any embroideries. A gentleman's elegance.

Jade: Now then, it is still rather early… I should head towards the dormitory lounge and enjoy a cup of tea by myself.

Jade: It might be nice to try some of the tea leaves that I've received recently today. After all, it is my birthday.

[Main Street]

Jade: Good morning, Jamil-san. What a coincidence, running into you in a place like this.

Jamil: How is it a coincidence? We're sophomores on our way to class, so it wouldn't be strange to meet up like this.

Jade: …

Jamil: What's with that look?

Jamil: Yeah, I know. Happy Birthday. …You just wanted to hear me say that, right?

Jade: Heheh, thank you. Just from hearing your well wishes, I think today will end up being a wonderful day.

Requested by @thelonepearl and @sakurakudo.

[koryxx]

#if someone wants to be a cunt to you they will find a way to do it in professional or unprofessional speak#this conversation feels very much like when my parents taught me table etiquette#to this day i ask why can i not put my elbows on the table#who does it offend and why#arbitary rules are stupid

had to add the last person's tags because !!! thank you!!!

i was scrolling through the notes on this post feeling like i was losing my mind, because everyone is just so hostile over people not adhering to completely made-up arbitrary social conventions and rules about how to be "good" and "polite" in the most meaningless ways.

it reminds me of when the internet lost their collective shit over someone asking if the food their neighbor surprised them with fit their dietary restriction, because "the polite thing to do" is just accept food a stranger made for you, even if it could make you sick or kill you, even if you throw it away or give it to someone else, even if it leads to your neighbor making you more food, even if you have to lie to their face and continue to do so.

it makes me wonder how genuine anyone ever is, especially when it comes to interactions with people they don't already have a close or personal relationship with. because everything everyone does is seemingly a result of their fear of being perceived as rude and their strict adherence to rules of politeness that no one can actually explain.

why is performative politeness more important than genuine kindness? why can't we all just assume people are coming to us in good faith and respond in kind, rather than determine how we respond to one another based on our perception of and assumptions about their intentions ("if you don't say xyz, i'm going to assume you don't actually care and thus not take you seriously/be as helpful").

it must be an interesting cognitive dissonance to slam people for your perception of them being disrespectful and rude, then turn around and say you literally ignore or dismiss people and what they have to say based on writing style (or even typos and language barrier, because how do you someone is intentionally not following the ~proper rules of writing an email?) how is that not worse than, say, writing an email in all lowercase?

not to sound like a boomer, but I need some people to learn how to write emails in a semi-professional (at the very least) format so you're not cold emailing a business/potential employer/any other stranger about formal matters in the exact same way you'd DM a close friend on instagram

the formality/language can loosen up in the email chain once you've established a rapport and you match the other person if they're being less formal, but please don't have the very first email you send a stranger be written in all lowercase ultra-casual sms slang with no greeting or signature and a billion emojis

[kaliforniahigh]

birds of a feather, we should stick together - n.s. (part one)

Best friends to lovers, fake dating and best friend Noah <3

Warnings: a mean character, curse words, Noah makes fun of fine line tattoos, lies and reader trying to fit in to the best of her abilities. If I missed something, let me know!

Part 2 is in the works and coming soon!

WC: 4.3k words.

Requests are closed for now / Click here to be added to the permanent tag list <3

To say you were overly excited to meet up with your high school friends would be a total lie. When you told Noah they arranged a lunch date, to remember the good old days, he scoffed, and asked you why you even stayed in the group chat with these people.

Truth is, they weren't all bad. Acually, most of them were pretty nice, It was the Regina George of the group, also known as Jade, who fucked up the vibes.

Jade was a mean girl, and she never understood why you were friends with the awkward emo kid, with the side-swept bangs. This emo kid being your best friend, Noah Sebastian, who was the first person you met when you enrolled in a new school, in the middle of the school year.

It was 6th grade, and you had just moved to Richmond, VA. Your dad was transferred, so you had to find a new home, in a new city.

You and Noah became friends fast, being paired up by your English teacher during reading classes, you talked more than you actually read. He found out, that even though it didn't look like it, you enjoyed the same bands as he did. And that you learned to play acoustic guitar from a pretty young age.

You told him that your dad was in a band during his college years, but, due to adult responsabilities, it became more of a hobby for him than anything else.

Soon, the two of you were inseparable. Walking down school corridors together, him going to your house to do homework, and showing you around the city on the weekends.

You were the one who took school more seriously than him, and you were the one who ended up going to college and getting your Master's degree right after. But he was the one who always took you to watch his band practice, who took you to watch his friends - who were always much older than the two of you - perform.

When you were both 15, Noah told you he was going to drop out of high school. You weren't too happy, because you wouldn't have your best friend with you anymore, but you always knew the time would come, and were surprised he didn't decide to do it much sooner.

And that's how you met Jade and her friends. You weren't popular by any means, but, one day, she approached you and asked you how you styled your hair so nicely, and how she loved your pink tips.

You wanted to tell her that your best friend helped you. When you told Noah you wanted a splash of color in your hair, he went to the store with you to buy the necessary things. He wanted you to do purple, but you settled on pink. You remember him huffing in annoyance, telling you that pink was such a boring color.

At home, he helped you with the back of your head, while you spread the vivid color on the front pieces. It turned out amazing, and you joked that he could be a hair stylist if this band thing didn't work out.

Noah and Jade never really got along. The first day they met, Noah was picking you up from school, waiting for you in the parking lot. You remember Jade making a backhanded remark about his tattoos and the way he dresses, and Noah's face turned sour immediately.

After that, anytime they were in the same vicinity, shady comments were thrown by both of them. Noah always commenting about how the bleach in her hair must've gotten to her brain, and Jade commenting about how Noah was a wannabe rockstar.

Noah asked you many times why you kept her around, instead of dumping her and finding new friends, and you always explained how it wasn't that easy.

This was high school, and everyone already had their group of friends, not really being keen on letting other people in. Besides, without him there, and without the girls, you truly had no one else.

At the end of the day, he understood. Noah himself had a hard time making friends, and to this day, he never understood how someone like you decided to befriend him. He knew how being solitary could ruin your years in high school.

Now, sitting in this overpriced lunch spot they found downtown, you were contemplating your life choices as you tried to eat your Caeser salad without grimacing. All of them ordered fucking salads, and you did the same, not wanting to be the only one ordering chicken parm.

"Girlies", Jade said, wiping her mouth with a napking and setting it back down on her lap. "I know this is a reunion, but I have such good news", she clapped her hands excitedly. Typical Jade, always wanting the attention on her.

Everyone stopped eating to pay attention to what she was saying.

"So, you know how Peter proposed to me last year, right?", everyone nodded yes. "We're getting married in two months!", she exclaimed, reaching inside her Louis Vitton bag and pulling out what seemed to be wedding invitations. "And all of you are invited!"

The girls cheered and started to hug her, you did the same, expressing your happines for your friend.

"It's going to be in the Bahamas, in an all-inclusive resort", she informed, handing out the wedding invitations. Meanwhile, you were wondering with what money you were getting your ass to the Bahamas.

"Peter is paying all the expenses, for everyone, so don't even worry about it", she said, as if reading your thoughts.

Jade got engaged to the kind of person everyone thought she was going to date. Peter was a hot shot plastic surgeon based in LA. You had no doubt he racked up millions of dollars every month just fixing people's faces. Jade herself had something new done everytime you met up.

"What about you, Y/N? Who are you bringing as your plus one?", Emma asked. You guess you zoned out and missed part of the conversation.

"You're bringing your boyfriend, right?", Lily chimed in.

Did they even know if you had a boyfriend or not? You looked around the table, all the girls waiting for your answer. You didn't know what to say. Suddenly, your eyes noticed all of their beautiful engagement rings, and you didn't have the courage to say you were still single.

"Yeah, of course", you answered, hoping you were convincing.

"Uhh, that's amazing! Who is he?", Jade asked, excitment coating her voice.

Shit. Who the fuck would you say is your boyfriend?

"Noah", you said. He was the first person to come to mind, and you didn't hesitate to say his name.

You saw Jade's face twist in a frown.

"You're dating Noah?", she asked, judgment evident in her tone.

"Hmm, yeah, for a while now", you were lying through your teeth at this point.

"Well", she shrugged. "I guess it was always gonna happen anyways", and just like that, the rest of the girls went back to their conversations, while you mulled over what the hell you had just done.

You were already gonna tell Noah to come with you to the wedding the moment she handed out the invitations, which, was going to be a difficult task in itself, since Noah held a grudge against Jade to this day. But you were sure you could convince him with the all-inclusive resort argument.

Now, not only did you have to convince him to go with you, but you had to tell him you told the girls you were dating?

You were already thinking of excuses not to go.

When everyone was finished with their meals, they slowly started to say their goodbyes. You did the same, giving each one of them a kiss on the cheek as you made your way out of the restaurant and to your car.

When you got in, you instantly fished your phone from your purse, dialing Noah's number.

"You need saving from the botox bitch?", Noah answered the phone. You rolled your eyes, but laughed anyway.

"I'm already leaving the restaurant, actually. I was calling to ask if I can come over"

"Since when do you call to ask if you can come over?", he asked, confusion in his voice. He was right, you usually just showed up.

"I don't know? To make sure you're home?"

"You know I'm always home"

"Can I comer over or not?", you asked again, a hint of fake annoyance in your voice.

"Of course you can"

"Then I'll see you in fifteen", you said, hanging up the phone and starting your car.

On the way over to Noah's house, you've been thinking about how you were going to break the news. You still had a little while to think about what you were going to tell him, but, you knew that as soon as he saw your face, he'd know you were hiding something from him.

So, without an actual plan, you decided to tell him today. That way, you wouldn't have to torture youself for days with this information, and you gave him more time to prepare. That is, if he even decided to go.

You trusted your abilities to convince him, though. Noah had a history of doing whatever you wanted just to see you happy, and you never took advantage of that, but desperate times call for for desperate measures. Besides, a vacation to the Bahamas, with all expenses paid, didn't seem all that bad. Even if you had to endure Jade for a few days.

Parking outside, you gave yourself a pep talk before leaving your car and locking it behind you. Using your spare key, you unlocked the front door and made your way inside the living room, announcing your arrival by calling Noah's name.

"I'm right here, what are you yelling for?", he answered from the couch, the PS5 controller in his hands. You just shrugged in answer, and sat next to him.

Grabbing your purse, you pulled out the fancy wedding invitation Jade had handed to you, and set it on the couch beside him and between the two of you. Grabbing it and reading what was written in gold letters, Noah's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Oh, so the queen of botox is getting married to the king of botox?", you gave him a sideways glance, but smiled at his nicknames for the couple. It did suit them, after all.

"Yeah, they are. Jade couldn't help but announce it today", you pointed out.

"Well, are you going?", he asked, setting the invitation back down.

"Hmm. It depends, I guess", you answered, avoiding his eyes and you could tell he already clocked that something is wrong.

"Why?", he asked, a little hesitant.

"Jade said we can bring a plus one"

"Yeah, you usually can at weddings"

"And I was thinking....", you trailed off and looked at him, seeing the exact moment the realization dawned on him, and he immediately started to shake his head.

"There is no way", he said, getting up from the couch and walking over to the kitchen. You got up as well and went after him.

"Why not?", you asked him, a little bit of whining in your voice.

"Are you seriously asking 'why not'?"

"I mean, I know you don't like her, but c'mon, this is gonna be a nice wedding. Besides, it's in the Bahamas, and Peter is paying for everything", you argued.

"Is it's because it's in the Bahamas, I can pay for a vacation for us in the Bahamas, no problem", he crossed his arms against his chest.

"It's not because of that"

"Y/N", he stepped closer towards you. "You know you can just go alone, right?"

"I can't go alone", you huffed in annoyance, because his argument was totally valid, but you did not have that option anymore, all because of your big mouth and will to please everyone.

"Why not?", he asked, confusion etched all over his face.

"Because...", your shoulders slumped as you realized the gravity of your mistake.

"Hey", he grabbed your shoulders, sensing your discomfort. You were never uncomfortable around him, so this behaviour from you scared him a little bit. "You can tell me, what is it?"

"I told them I have a boyfriend", you say, voice low and a little embarassed.

"But you don't have a boyfriend", he observed the obvious, having difficulty in understanding where you were going with this.

"I told them it was you", you looked down towards the floor, fingers going to rub your forehead as you waited for his reaction. The seconds ticked by, and the silence ate you alive.

"You...", he started, but stopped himself in his tracks, head going over what you just told him, to make sure he got it right. "You told them we were dating?", you answered with a head nod, still looking down.

"Y/N", he said your name with a little bit of annoyance lacing his tone. He looked up at the ceiling, as if willing the heavens to give him the strength to deal with you.

"I know, I know", you say, looking up at him. "It was just that they were drilling me about this and I didn't know what to do!"

"Tell them you're not dating anyone?", he deadpanned, and you hated that he kept stating the obvious.

"Yeah, but they already see me as the odd one out, what are they gonna think when I tell them that I'm almost thirty and not dating anyone? They're all engaged, for fucks sake!", you exclaimed and started to pace around the kitchen.

"You worry about what they think of you too much", Noah pointed out. He hated the way you felt like you always had to please them, they way you always thought you had to fit in into their world.

"It's ok, I'll just come up with an excuse so I don't have to go to the wedding", you waved your hand, dismissing this conversation. You were already feeling your head start to throb. You made your way to the couch, grabbing your purse, and the invitation.

Behind you, you hear Noah let out a big breath, before softly calling out your name. You stopped in front of the door and turned around to face him.

"You owe me big fucking time", he pointed a finger at you, and you couldn't help but let a smile dance over your lips.

"You're gonna do this?", you asked, a little doubtful.

"You're doing my laundry for two weeks", he comprimised. "No, three weeks. Fuck it, you're doing my laundry for a whole fucking month"

You cheered at this, not minding it one bit. His laudry was easy since he only had black clothes.

You skipped your way over to him, reaching your arms up and circling them around his neck to pull him into a hug. You couldn't see, but he had a smile on his lips as well.

At this moment, Noah thinks he would do just about anything to keep you happy.

"At least she can't make fun of your hair anymore", you observed, as you parted from him. He groaned in reply.

"Don't fucking push it", he warned you, but there was no real threat to his words.

"Oh!", you snapped your fingers as you remembered an important information about the wedding. "I forgot to tell you something"

"What is it?", he asked, looking at you sideways in suspiscion.

"It's at an all-inclusive resort", you wiggled your eyebrows suggestively. "Besides", you continued "Jade's probably gonna invite so many people, we won't even cross paths with her", you observed.

"I hope you're right"

To say you had a lot of time to prepare was a lie. Time flew by incredibly fast, and in between work, choosing a dress and picking up a suit for Noah - who complained endlessly about having to wear it, you argued that he can't wear a black tank top to a wedding, and he huffed and puffed even more - you were only one day away from boarding the plane.

You were going over everything in your suitcase. Another thing Noah was going to complaing about, you can hear his voice in your head asking you why you needed so much stuff. You zipped it up when you decided that obsessively thinking if you forgot anything was not going to make you magically remember something.

You texted Noah that you were ready for him to pick you up. You both decided it was best if you slept over at his house, and he was asking one of the boys to drive you over to the airport for practical reasons.

It wasn't too long before you heard honking outside, signaling Noah's arrival. You took everything you needed, and looked around you to make sure you locked everything up, and when you were satisfied with your quick inspection, you walked over and opened the front door.

Noah was opening the trunk when he saw you.

"Don't say anything", you raised your hand up to stop the words you were sure were going to stumble from his lips. He raised his arms up in surrender and didn't say anything. But, he did make overexaggerated grunting noises as he hauled your bags inside the trunk. You ignored him and went to lock your front door instead.

Getting in the car and driving away, you pulled your phone from your pocket.

"Jade already texted the flight information", you observed.

"At least she's competent", he retorted.

"Imma need you to try and be civil, at least. Remember we're going to enjoy the beach and drinks", you reminded him of what you've been saying for the past weeks. "And you can't call them botox queen and botox king".

"If she doesn't talk shit about my tattoos, we'll be fine", he argued back.

"Her husband has tattoos", you pointed out, as if that makes the situation any better.

"I bet it's some fine line pussy ass tattoo of a lion or some shit like that", he grunted in annoyance, remembering he's gonna have to deal with Jade AND her husband.

"You know what?", you rubbed you chin in thought. "I think it actually is", you pondered, and you both couldn't help but cackle out loud about the fact that he was most likely right about the tattoo.

The rest of the day went on without a hitch. You ordered some food so you didn't get any pans or pots dirty before traveling, and soon, you were both ready for bed, since you were leaving pretty early in the morning to catch your flight.

You were getting comfortable in Noah's left side of the bed, when he came in the room, dressed in sweatpants and a hoodie, joining you under the covers.

Plugging your phone to charge, you turn to look at him, doing the same.

"Did you set the alarm?", you asked and he hummed a yes. "Did you set it really loud?", he hummed in reply once again.

He knew you got anxious whenever you had to do something important in the morning. You always thought some entity was going to disable the alarms you set on your phone and you wouldn't wake up in time.

"Don't worry, we'll get there with lots of time to spare", he reassured you, and opened his arms so you could lay against his chest.

Sleep found you easily, as it always did whenever you and Noah slept on the same bed. You were used to sleeping in an empty house, since you've been living on your own ever since you moved for college. But to say your sleep was calm and serene was a lie.

With him, you felt safer, like he could protect you from everything and anything. You trusted him more than you trusted anyone else in your life.

Noah, wasn't as tired as you were, and he contemplated how these days were going to go over as he waited for your breath to even out. It was a ritual of sorts whenever you two slept together. He always waited for you to fall asleep first. And, sometimes, when you had difficulty sleeping, he sang some soft tunes, or rubbed your scalp the way he knew you liked, and that always did the trick.

Next time you woke up, was with Noah's shrill alarm ringing on the bedside table. He really did set it really loud, because you were groaning and telling him to turn it off. He woke up with a yawn, disentangling his arm from under your torso to finally quiet the alarm.

Yawning and stretching your limbs all over the bed, you heard Noah chuckle beside you.

"You're like a damn cat, stretching like that", he pointed out, looking at you with a smile on his face.

He always thought you were the most adorable in the morning. Your hair was a little messed up, and your eyes were all tired and fighting sleep. A part of him wished he could just pull you back to rest beside him and resume sleep. But, the trip from hell awaited the two of you.

Getting up from the bed, he announced he was going to brush his teeth and take a shower, meanwhile, you busied yourself gathering all of the suicases and backpacks downstairs.

As soon as Noah left the bathroom, you went in there and did your morning routine as well as you could with your stuff all packed away. Luckily, you kept a few things over at his place for convenience.

Changing into something comfortable for the airport, you made your way downstairs and found Noah dressed in usual sweatpants and hoodie combo.

"Did you grab your sleep mask? I won't lend you mine this time", you told him. Last time, you had to endure a whole flight without your sleep mask, because Noah had forgotten his, and you had no heart to tell him no when he asked to borrow yours.

"Yes, ma'am. I grabbed my sleep mask", he answered. "I already texted Jolly, and he's on his way to pick us up".

"Did you lock everything up?"

"Yep, already checked the entire house while you were showering"

Noah was used to this. You had a ritual everytime you were travelling, and he learned that getting ahead of you was the best thing to do. That way, you wouldn't get stressed with things he didn't do, or forgot.

Right on cue, you heard a horn souding outside, Noah opened the door and was greeted with Jolly waving from inside the car.

"Ok, let's go", you clapped your hands in a "chop chop" motion.

On the way to the airport, Noah and Jolly chatted on the front seat, while you went over the flight details on your phone, making sure everything was in order for check-in. Noah hated airports, so he left you in charge of everything he found boring.

The drive was short, and soon, you were bidding Jolly goodbye at the drop off zone, and you didn't miss the little pat on the back and the "good luck" he wished Noah before getting back in his car and driving away.

Checking-in, you and Noah found a place to sit while he grabbed some breakfast for the two of you. While you sat there, eating and waiting, you were reminded of a very important detail that you forgot to discuss with him.

"Oh, my God! I totally forgot to talk to you about something", you exclaimed, swatting him in the chest to get his attention.

"This is the second time you forgot to tell me something about this wedding trip", he said.

"When they ask us how we got together, what are we gonna tell them?", you ask him. You've been going over all the lies you'd need to tell during this trip, and you realized that you and Noah didn't have a game plan at all.

"That one day, you professed your undying love for me and then we started to date?", he said, as if the answer was obvious, but you could tell he was sprinkling a little bit of sarcasm in there.

"I'm serious, Noah", you huffed, looking at him. "We have to be beliveable, otherwise, they'll catch on, and ruin the whole thing"

"We can just tell them that we realized we wanted to have something more than just a friendship", he suggested, and the idea wasn't so bad. Jade always said you'd end up together from how much time you spend with each other.

"Out of nowhere?"

"No, we've been hiding our feelings, thinking that the other didn't feel the same way, until, one day, I told you I liked you and you told me you liked me too", you rubbed your chin, thinking over his plan. "It's not overcomplicated and if we stick to the same story, we'll be fine", he reassued you. "Besides, Jade is so self-absorbed she'll probably not even ask anything about us at all"

"That's very likely", you agreed with his reasoning. After all, it was Jade's wedding, so the light is gonna be on her, and not on you and Noah.

"What about PDA?", you broached another subject that you've been avoiding.

"If you wanna kiss me, you can just ask, you know?", he teased you, nudging you with his shoulder.

"It's not what I meant, and you know it", you told him, but you weren't able to hide the little blush covering your cheeks, and he noticed too, by the way he was grinning.

"I can hold your hand. I mean, I kind of already do. But let's just go with the flow. You don't have to worry too much about this, it's just a couple of days, after all", he said, and he was right. You and Noah meshed well and were usually in the same wavelength, so there was no reason to think things were going to go south.

You just hoped you had time to relax and enjoy the beach, the drinks and the foods, which, if you knew Jade as well as you did, were going to be impeccable.

Tag list: @concreteangel92 @foliosgirl @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @stardustsirenmelody @miwomens @concretejunglefm @fadingangelwisp @prettygirlrock126 @dontwantthemoney @tosoundlessdarkistare @babygirlchuuya @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @lacy1986 @romanreigns-supreme @xmads-omensx @missduffsblog @rumoured-whispers @thisbicc @badomensgoodomens @floatingkiwi @collective-heartbreak @dontwantthemoney @dream-machine-love @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @amelia-acero @kenjipepsi1 @montgomery-929496 @daddy-dierkes-girlie @stardustsirenmelody @cheyyyyr @triedbimsoblu333 @xxkatsatwatwafflexx @noyaisasimp @youlookforultraviolet @w0manof-flesh44 @chaoticwineaunt @geminigirlfromfinland @turn-your-life-into-folklore @butterflyeffect07 @zozaline @deardelirium @ferduttini @jilliemiw86 @alylanaeblack @lilcrazy011

[hedwig221b]

Can we get a Twilight tease for Chrimus 👹🫶🏼🙏🏼🎄🎄

merry crisis! 🎄 here, have a whole chunk since I'm not posting fics anymore this year

“…and it’s not sunny, which is the perfect weather, you know, because it would blind anyone. And the ground is not slippery so everything would be fine and dandy. And you trained so hard, like, I don’t know how they listen to you—”

“Can you, please, breathe?” Derek smiled.

Stiles snapped his mouth shut and rubbed his forehead with shaking fingers. Absently, he kicked the small rock, and it ricocheted off the wall next to the team’s locker room. Behind Derek’s looming figure, the school stadium was bathed in projector lights and a booming buzz of excitement. The sea of red and white puttered on one side, mirrored by the black and blue on the other.

“Sorry,” Stiles muttered, schooling his expression into an encouraging smile. “I just came to wish you good luck.”

Derek inclined his head, studying him closely. “What happened?” he asked.

“Nothin’,” Stiles chirped, smacked a kiss on Derek’s cheek, and was about to sidestep him when Derek caught his hand. His fingers rubbed the inside of Stiles’ wrist, where the veins fluttered under the thin skin.

“What happened?” Derek repeated.

He spoke so quietly that Stiles struggled to hear him. Or was it the noise in Stiles’ ears?

Stiles breathed out harshly, rocking on his toes. “Dad knows.”

“About us?”

“Yes.”

“Great.” Not an ounce of sarcasm was in Derek’s voice. He sounded ridiculously calm as if he did not care about the upcoming game, or Stiles' dad, or the Saturday meeting— “I’m looking forward to meeting him.”

Stiles snorted. “Are you?”

“Yes,” Derek arched his eyebrows. “I’d like to know your family. And I want him to know who I am, to trust me with you.”

“God,” Stiles shook his head, swallowing harshly. Pins and needles poked his fingers until Derek caught them in his steady warm grip. For a minute, they stood in silence until the anxiety ebbed away to a manageable level. Stiles cleared his throat. “Sorry.”

“It’s going to be alright,” said Derek, sliding his hand into Stiles' one. “He’s going to like me. We’ll form a coalition and call it Stiles’ Worriers. Get it?” Derek poked him in the stomach.

“Stop.”

“It’s because we worry about you. And care about you.”

“I get it.”

Derek smiled lightly and opened his arms. “Come here.”

Stiles folded into his embrace like a wave into the sand, dissolving into his strong body, and letting Derek hold him. Just for a bit, Stiles thought. Just for a second…

Closing his eyes, Stiles buried his face in Derek’s neck and breathed. The wolf���s hands stroked his lower back, his chin rubbing against Stiles’ temple.

Slowly, Stiles’ heartbeat calmed. The lodge in his throat eased.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” he said hoarsely.

Derek chuckled. He leaned away, cupped Stiles' face, and kissed him properly. Stiles could already taste the victory on his tongue.

“Go to your seat, okay?” said Derek. “Have fun watching me win the game for you.”

Stiles huffed as the grin took over his freshly kissed lips. “I will. Seriously, good luck, though.” He stepped around Derek, letting their hands fall apart.

“You’re all the luck I need,” said Derek, making Stiles laugh at the cheesiness.

When he climbed the bleachers, everyone stared at him. At least, that’s what it felt like. Hundreds of eyes followed him as he entered the ‘VIP’ section and sat between Allison and Lydia. Hundreds of mouths murmured about Stiles’ dating life, debating whether it was good or bad that he and Hale were together.

Allison handed him a red scarf, which she had knitted herself. It was a token of initiation, she said with a smile.

Stiles wrapped it around his neck, then let Lydia rewrap it so that he ‘wouldn’t bring shame to her name’. They rose when the team ran out on the field, grinning hard, and hollering.

And when Stiles caught Derek’s bright gaze, he found it hard to care about those hundreds.

[strangemaleswaps]

Strange Christmas Family Swap 2

Last Christmas I gave you my heart….or my body more like. A year ago on Christmas day, my family woke up to find we had all swapped bodies with each other. My sister Em with my mom, my brother Calvin and sibling Sam, and worst of all - me with my grandpa Boris.

It all happened because of a magical Christmas knickknack that broke when my grandpa dropped it. We were all stuck in the wrong bodies permanently. Calvin and Sam adapted the easiest, being similar ages and looks, though with completely different styles. Calvin went back to college in Sam's body, and somehow managed to convince everyone that all he did was shave his beard and lose weight. He did gain a good amount back, much to Sam's horror. Sam immediately shaved the beard off once they found out this was permanent, and got their ears repierced. Surprisingly, they didn't seem too preoccupied with losing weight, and seemed to embrace being chubby. They did start to shave all the chest hair off though.

Em reapplied to the same college she went to, under my mom's name, and actually got in. I guess she didn't mind how much older she was, and what people would think of her. Me on the other hand…well let's just say it'd be so embarrassing being a fat old guy in college. Not to mention how hard it would be walking to each class lugging around a huge belly. My joints were so tight as well.

I started living in his house, and surprisingly he actually let me, probably because he knew that if he tried to fight back, the neighbors would take my side because they wouldn't recognize him. I knew he got an apartment somewhere, but other than that, I didn't know anything about where he lived or what he'd been doing. God I hope he was at least taking care of my body…but I guess that didn't matter now that I was permanently stuck like this.

This year I was the one hosting, since my grandpa's house was much nicer than my mom's. Of course he never wanted anybody there before but now that it was mine, I was happy to have everyone over. My mom came over early to help cook the food since I would probably ruin the dinner otherwise.

“Ferris, this place is a mess! Do you ever clean up around here?”

“Sorry.” It was still weird seeing someone that looked like Em, but knowing it was my mom behind her eyes. Being so close to the real Em made it hard to take her seriously sometimes when mom scolded me. It probably felt weird for her too. I was in the body of her dad!

“And are these ramen wrappers on the floor? I guess you do live like a college student afterall.”

“Yeah. At least the place doesn’t smell like cigarette smoke anymore.” My grandpa was an avid smoker, and when I swapped, I quickly began craving cigarettes. I gave in eventually, but managed to quit a few months ago. I guess since the body was the smoker but the mind wasn't, it was a little bit easier to quit.

A while later I got a text. I unlocked my phone to see it was from Em. My heart sank when I read the message.

“Hey Ferris, I'm gonna be bringing my new boyfriend if that's ok?”

I showed my mom the text and she copied my worried look.

“New boyfriend? Did she mention him before? I think it might be too soon to invite him to Christmas.”

“I think she kinda already decided before she even asked. I think it'll be fine. I mean we've been like this for a year so it can't be that hard.”

“If you say so. We could just pretend to be each other.” I'd mostly started a new life and identity in the past year, but there still were some times I had to pretend to be my grandpa, like with his neighbors. It wasn't that hard, and I guess I could always pretend I was going senile or something if it comes to it.

Sam and Calvin soon showed up and we were waiting on Em and her boyfriend. When we got the text that they were on their way, my mom began cleaning up a bit around the kitchen area.

“Ferris, go tuck in your shirt.”

“But mom, I hate doing that. It…makes my gut hang out.”

“I know, I know. But just do it because it'll look nicer. It's not every Christmas we spend with someone we don't know. You want to make a good impression.”

“Ugh fine.” She was right though, we did want to make a good impression, even if our family was definitely weirder than you'd think. I headed to the bathroom to straighten up. When I looked into the mirror, it reflected a face that I now recognized as my own. It felt weird to think I used to hate seeing it, both on me, and on my grandpa, back when it was his. I wanted to grow a beard to cover the double chin and wrinkles, only to find out I really couldn't - it just awkwardly grew in patches. So I settled on clean shaven. I was an old man; it's not like I needed to impress anybody with my looks anyway.

I grazed my hands through my hair, or what was left of my hair anyway, and combed it back a bit. I then pushed in my gut with one hand in order to unbuckle my pants. With the way my gut just hung down, I'd gotten used to wearing long shirts that covered it up entirely. Tucking in my shirt highlighted it, but I really had to now so I took it, tucked it into my pants, and buckled them back up. I hated the way it looked, my belly seemed even more round and obvious. At least my belly was tucked into my pants instead of it hanging out.

I walked into the living room to find that Em and her boyfriend had already arrived. He was a regular college aged guy; must've had a thing for older women, or at least physically older women. He walked up to me to shake my hand. Definitely not something I was used to, having someone around my real age act so formal.

“Ah you must be Grandpa Boris right? Nice to meet you. I'm Aaron.”

“Er yeah nice to meet you too.”

“Em told me all about you guys. You seem like a fun bunch! Someone's missing though.” We all went a bit silent for a moment, but I needed to ease the awkwardness so I kinda spat out my thoughts.

“Oh uh yeah Ferris. My…grandson. Hes uh not coming.”

“Aw why not? Em said he was her favorite brother.”

“Uhh rude!” teased Calvin. Em spoke up to finish the answer.

“He's got his own things going on.”

“Ah shame. I'd love to meet hi-” Just then the door suddenly swung open, and standing in the doorway was none other than my grandpa - and boy, had he changed. I barely even recognized my old body! The signature slim muscle and abs I had were replaced with a chubby stomach contained by a blue shirt. How did he even get that big in just a year? What had he been eating?

“What's everyone looking at me for? It's Christmas! Show a little cheer for god’s sake!” he shouted. I can't believe he did this to me! At least he kinda got what he deserved. He was super proud of his hot body but it looks like he just couldn't keep up with the work needed to maintain it.

“Hey, I'm Aaron, Em's boyfriend. It's nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Nice to meet you.” He replied hastily. My mom suddenly interrupted.

“Well uh. The food is ready now everyone so feel free to grab a plate!” My grandpa rushed to the kitchen to get his before anyone else. He stacked a huge amount of food on his plate. I never realized how much of an appetite I had in my old body. Maybe that's why he gained weight so fast.

When he sat down, I noticed he reeked of cigarette smoke. I was so angry I wanted to tell him off right there and then, but I held it in because I didn't want to upset Em. So I kept quiet throughout dinner until Aaron tried to make conversation.

“So Grandpa Boris, how are you doing? I'm sure having a nice family like this must be wonderful.”

“Uh yeah, it's-”

“He doesn't know shit about having a nice family,” interrupted grandpa. I had enough.

“You know, if you want a nice family, you kinda have to BE nice first!” I shouted. Everyone went silent until he fought back.

“I AM being nice! I came here for dinner after all!”

“Yeah, only to stuff your fat face and get presents!” He looked as though he was defeated for a moment, but then started up again.

“Hey, it's not my fault you got a SHIT METABOLISM!"

“I worked out everyday to get that fit. What's your excuse?” Aaron whispered to Em, in between yelling.

“What are they talking about?”

“It's uh complicated.”

“Well uh I do have a present for you Em,” said Aaron, trying to ease the mood back into cheerfulness. At the word “present,” my grandpa suddenly turned his attention toward Aaron. Em opened the gift to find a little knickknack of an elf wearing a purple outfit. Definitely a weird color for a Christmas thing. It reminded me of the knickknack from last year.

“Well where's my present now?”

“Oh uh sorry Ferris! I only got one for Em.”

“Dad, you're not getting a single present this year!” my mom shouted.“

‘Dad?’ What is she talking about?” Aaron was confused now.

“Go to hell all of you!” Suddenly he grabbed Em's present and unlike last year, smashed it- on purpose.

“Grandpa, what the hell!” Em shouted. Aaron looked shocked.“Why are you calling him grandpa? I'm really confused now.”

“It's um…” started Em. “We uh swapped bodies last Christmas.”

“WHAT?” The next couple minutes we spent reintroducing ourselves.

“Oh shit. So you're your own mom? That's freaky. Very freaky.”

“So wait, the real Ferris is Grandpa Boris? Oh man that's gotta suck.”

“And I was super skinny before he trashed my body,” I replied.

“Well anyway. We should clean this mess up,” started Em. “I don't know why we-” Suddenly it felt like pressure was building up inside my head and I noticed everyone else except Aaron got wide eyed.

“Uhh are you all ok?” The pressure feeling built up until it suddenly exploded and felt like I was flying across the room. My sight went dark for a few seconds until it all stopped. When I opened my eyes I was sitting at the other side of the table, looking at myself.

“What happened?” asked Calvin. “Oh shit a beard!” He grazed his hands over his beard. “Not again!”

It was then that we all realized what had happened. We were all back in our own bodies! Except…I was fat. I looked down at my hands to see a familiar freckle to confirm that I was back in my own body.

“Well this is awkward,” said Sam. “We spend the last year building new identities only for everything to go back to normal. That knickknack really returned to us again!”

“Hey at least we look like ourselves again! Well…poor Ferris.” I felt like I was about to cry. I began heading towards the bathroom to see the damage my grandpa had really done. I looked in the mirror and the sense of security I felt when I saw my own face was quickly shattered when I saw how chubby my cheeks were, as well as the double chin I didn't have before. I took my shirt off to find that my abs were completely gone, replaced with a flabby belly that hung over my belt. I had a pair of jiggly man tits as well.

I was used to being fat, but at least when I was in my grandpa's body, I didn't feel as insecure because most old guys are fat anyway. But now? I was just a young guy who really let himself go.

Suddenly I heard a door slam, so I put my clothes back on to see what happened. My grandpa was gone.“Yeah, he's never coming over here again,” said my mom.

“He's just…”

“Too much?” I replied.

“Yep.”

“Well, no need to be so down in the dumps everyone!” started Aaron. “It's still Christmas! Even better, the whole new year new you thing will be pretty literal with all of you.”

“Again,” replied Sam with a laugh.

“Merry Christmas!”

[two-white-butterflies]

gave you all my best me's

Description: Aemond needs a fake-girlfriend. It's a good thing that he has leverage over his nephew's ex-girlfriend.

Pairing: (past! jacaerys velaryon/reader), aemond targaryen/reader

Notes: I wanted to rewrite this fanfic before writing a bonus chapter. I'm not a big fan of the old version of this: you're losing me. TWO PARTS SO COMMENT TO GET TAGGED.

It is a beautiful thing to be admired for your talents, but when the media begins digging into your personal life - it is difficult to decipher where one draws a line. "When are you getting married?" The late-night host asks.

You answer him with an awkward chuckle.

Despite your social media branding - you longed for marriage, a white picket fence, and children. "There's so much more to life than getting married," you pursed your lips into a thin line. You could already see yourself in tomorrow morning's tabloids - trending on Twitter AND Tiktok with a witty hashtag.

"I agree, but for other people, it's a milestone moment for them. Is it not in your plans to get married in the future? Or is it an if it happens, it happens kind of thing?" The man continues to inquire.

You forced a smile on your face.

You did want to get married, but it's not in Jace's plans. He's the type of man who goes from hotel to hotel - the type of man who doesn't have his own apartment because he likes to act like a cowboy. Jace is the type of man who'd wear speedos with Birkenstocks. He does not ever see himself getting married, but he sees himself staying with you forever.

"I, unfortunately, don't see myself getting married. I mean respect for the people who are married, but for me, it's not really a necessity because I already see myself staying with this one person my entire life, and for me, I don't feel the need to get married." You explained, echoing the words that Jace whispered to you last night.

"- but yeah, if it happens, it happens." You rolled your eyes.

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You placed your Le Smoking YSL Jacket loudly on the table, hoping that Jacaerys would take a hint and know that you've finally arrived. It has already been three-weeks after the viral interview, and he didn't seem bothered by the attention.

"I missed you," you smiled at him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. He always smells like vanilla. "- did you watch the interview?" You asked, pulling away from the embrace. He returns back to typing on his 3-year-old Macbook. "I watched it," he confirms.

You took a deep breath, which probably means that his family has already watched it. "I'm sorry my PR manager forgot to warn me. I seriously felt like a deer caught in headlights," you complained, pausing to see if he was mad.

Jacaerys is the oldest son of Laenor Velaryon and Rhaenyra Targaryen. He is the scion of the two oldest families in America. His great-great-great something on both sides came to this country on the Mayflower - and thus, they took extreme precautions when it came to safeguarding their privacy. Rhaenyra was already adamant about allowing her son to write his little books, and now that you were in the picture...

"It's fine, I hope they stop asking about that marriage thing." A sigh escapes his mouth, and you can hear him clacking on his keyboard - typing without an end. "Maybe it's a sign for us to talk seriously about the topic." You begin.

"Marriage is for people-pleasers. We spend a lot of money on this one celebration where everyone gets to eat and dance, but marriage doesn't mean being with someone forever." He articulates, unable to say, that he doesn't want to repeat his parents' mistakes and that he doesn't want to live in a bickering home.

"I want to get married," you blurted out.

He responds with silence. It is obvious that he is thinking of an appropriate response - but you know that the answer is no. "I have everything that I could ever want in the world, a perfect career, a perfect boyfriend, a perfect house. The only things that I want now are marriage and babies, Jace." You continued to explain, and his face dropped to the floor.

You reach for his hands, entwining them with yours. He gazes up from his laptop, and he stares right into your eyes. "We're not going to be like your parents." You promised.

"We aren't a hundred percent sure of that. I can't even promise you everlasting love, I can't even promise you that I can love you with the same strength every day." He tilts his head. Which leads you to believe that the only reason he hasn't married you yet - is because he doesn't love you at all.

"I know, but you choose me every day. You choose us every day, and that is the same thing as love." You persuaded.

You could sense the reluctance in his movements. "We're fighting all the time. I haven't seen you in almost a month. Getting married is not going to fix our problems." His voice softens. He loves you with all of his heart, but he doesn't know how to show that love without first ruining it.

"Let's break up," he proposed.

He was expecting you to say no, like all the other times before, but this time - you retreat silently. You grab your things and you leave his hotel room.

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archiebald22: OMG WHY?? DIDN'T SHE JUST HAVE AN INTERVIEW WITH JIMMY FALLON 😭

pussydaposi: This is my roman empire

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(ONE YEAR LATER)

nameofficial: I Love You, I'm Sorry OUT NOW!

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sacramentoLove: When are you gonna pay ur taxes 🇪🇸

Destination12: Shakira x Y/N Collab cuz they both don't pay taxes to the Spanish government

oompaloompa: Y/N singing bella ciao link in bio 😭

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"Who's the guy?" You whispered in Lucie's ears, and she turned around to look at the man who had been staring at you for the past five minutes. "Holy fuck, that's Aemond Targaryen. His family literally owns half of Texas." She whisper-shouted.

It didn't help with the fact that the man was smoking hot. Lucie stares at her phone for half a minute. "Wait, can I leave alone for just a second? Cecil forgot to bring his polo, and the receptionist is not letting him in." She groaned. "I'll be fine," you gave her a slight smile.

Lucie leaves your side, and Aemond begins walking towards you. "(Your Name)," you introduced yourself with a smile. "Aemond Targaryen," he shakes your hand.

This could be the beginning of something new...something different. "You don't look like the type of person who'd spend her weekends in old country clubs," he smiles charmingly. "I came here with my friend, Lucie. She's supposed to have a date with this guy, but he seems to have forgotten the rule of the country club." You chuckled.

Aemond tilts his head softly, and he whispers. "Always wear a shirt with a collar." He laughs.

"It's such a preposterous rule, I bet you that I'll have to hear about her boyfriend's expensive suit and how it is preposterous that he wasn't allowed inside." You giggled.

"I bet you that the staff doesn't get paid enough to deal with people like them," he led you to another part of the gardens. This part was exclusive only to esteemed members of the club, which probably means that this Aemond fellow is important. "I heard that a beautiful singer was going to be here. I had to my brother's golfcart to make it in the Clubhouse in time," his eyes narrowed.

Of course, the people that he heard those sentiments from weren't exactly appreciative of your presence. It was one of his mother's cousins who said something about these idiotic celebrities eating in the place where they were eating. "Oh please, you don't need to sugarcoat their words. I bet you that Lucie is scandalized for bringing me," you snorted.

You hate spending time around these old money folks. In your eyes, they've spent the majority of their wealth, and the only thing that they have left is their snootyness. "They're all idiots anyways," Aemond rolls his eyes, pleased that you weren't one of those cunts who'd kiss ass to the wealthy.

His phone rings, and he reaches for the call card inside of his wallet. "I'd love to take you out on dinner sometimes, not here, but you choose where to eat. Please call me as soon as possible," he placed a hand on your shoulder.

He bids farewell, realizing that his business partners were calling him already.

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It was a surprise to see that Aemond had a follow-through; the next day, he had already arranged a dinner with you. "I honestly had no idea where you'd want to eat. I mean, I'm sorry for bringing you to this small diner." You chuckled.

Rich people can be so banal sometimes, they eat at the same five restaurants, they wear the same clothes from the same five ateliers, and they all go to the same yoga studio, for goodness sake. You knew that if you wanted Aemond to consider you worthy of his attention - you needed to stick out. Which leads you to this diner, the real heart of NYC.

"It's beautiful. I've never been here before." He looks around with an appreciative smile. "I used to eat here a lot when I was a college student, I couldn't afford anything else - and the food here seriously tastes better than some Michelin restaurants. It's nice here, it feels so ... raw." You struggled to find the words.

The food was amazing, but the community that this diner constantly fed - it's a thing for the books. The cab drivers, the hotdog stand sellers, and the college students. It is home. "It must be hard being famous," he shoves a piece of pizza inside of his mouth.

You licked your lips.

"I've been famous for as long as I can remember. I don't know how to live without all of the cameras." You pierced the pancake with your fork, bringing it to your mouth. "I need your help." He places both of his hands on the table.

"Where?" Your eyebrows merged together.

"My father is dying. He says that he'll leave his entire inheritance to the first person who gets married in our family. My siblings and my nephews are fighting for that spot, seeing that my older sister doesn't want any ties with us. Now, I know that there are cases against you by the Spanish government, and I can make all of that go away," Aemond offers.

"I'd love to help you but I'm really good at making mistakes," your eyes narrowed, weighting in your choices.

His eyes softened.

"The only mistake that you've made is allowing your father to control your finances. He's in jail now, and if you're not going to fix yourself, you're going to end up there too." He says.

You play with the rings on your finger, inhaling the scent of maple syrup. "So, I marry you, and you clear up all my charges?" You inquired.

"I fake our marriage, clear up your name, and give you $10 million to start again." He corrects.

"Alright then," you hummed. "Do we have a deal?" You smile.

He shakes your hand.

"We have a deal," he confirms.

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Being in a pretend relationship with Aemond was honestly one of the easiest things that you've ever done. He makes it really hard not to fall in love with him. The way that he places his hands inside of his pockets, the way that he gives you the sweetest smile - it almost makes you think that his feelings are genuine. It is not, you remind yourself.

You flick through the rack of dresses in front of you. "What are your parents like? Are they traditional, or are they as laid back as you?" You questioned. He pauses for a while, trying to find the words that would properly describe his parents.

"My dad is a traditional man. He likes guns, and he believes in the Second Amendment. He's a senile old man. My mother, however, is trendy, and she's warm up to you." He informs.

"Tell me more about your family," you pressed.

You needed to be prepared for this battle.

"My older brother is an armchair socialist. He's always complaining to our mother about some animals dying. He's a vegetarian, although he always orders Chipotle on Fridays. His morality is a grey compass," Aemond snorts.

You giggle too.

"Helaena, my older sister. She's my second older sister. I think she's the person that Aegon thinks he is. She's too busy running this non-profit for refugees, but you don't need to worry about her, she's kind." He comforts.

"Then, I have a little brother, Daeron. He doesn't like us. He'd much rather spend time with our uncle." He turns to look away. Your eyes land on the vintage white dress you've seen in Lucie's wardrobe, it's a dress that Chanel never showed the general populace. An iconic piece, but not famous enough that it would seem tacky.

His hands snake around your waist. "What?" Your eyebrows merged together, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead, subtly pointing at the paparazzi that were standing outside of the boutique door. "Kiss me," he says, pulling your body closer - until you could smell his cologne.

"You are so demanding," you teased, reaching to cup his cheeks. Standing on your tiptoes as you pressed your lips together. The paparazzi outside of the door were caught in a frenzy, flashing lights of all colors greeted you.

He tastes like cherries and diet coke. It's intoxicating. A taste that is so different on your tongue. You pull away from the kiss - and he pretends to gasp at the sight of the paps outside of the door. "Let's go," he mouthed - pulling you into a deeper part of the store, where the media couldn't see.

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ynkittens: (fan sent the picture) Y/N L/N with mystery man in NYC. Who is this man???

liked by 92,239 others

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DoodleCop: OH MY GOD I miss her and Jace 🥺

YNNationSupport9: Stop, you're losing me

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Aemond stares at his phone, an indescribable frown on his face as it continues to vibrate due to the number of notifications sent to his personal account. "I didn't expect your fans to be this crazy," he mumbled, seeing his face shared all around Instagram.

"You did tell me that our relationship needed to be public to be believable," your eyes narrowed. "Yeah but now they're calling my personal number," he shows you his phone.

An amused chuckle exits your mouth.

"If you can't handle the smoke, don't start the fire." You shoved a piece of pastry inside of your mouth. Aemond slumps on the blue cloud couch and turns his phone off. He has been staying in your apartment for the past month now, after the whole scenario with the paparazzi the studio apartment that he was renting was no longer safe.

"Helaena has been blasting my other phone since yesterday. She's a really big fan of you," he smiles, pulling you closer to him until you are laying on his lap. "She sounds amazing, when are we going to meet?" You inquired, reaching for a book on the coffee table.

His fingers comb through your hair, untangling the knots that your hairbrush couldn't fix. "Maybe tomorrow during the family reunion? She kind of just shows up," he says.

He couldn't deny your beauty. As time grows, he slowly finds himself loving everything about you...from your gentleness to your fickle mindedness. You weren't satisfied with making a decision without first looking at every possible perspective. When someone does a bad deed, you say well, maybe it isn't their fault, maybe it's the way that society has treated them.

Even when the situation proves to be difficult, you still choose to be kind. It's just a summer thing, he tells himself because nothing beautiful ever chooses him. All the good things wilt in his hands.

He flicks a strand of your hair away from your face. "I'm a little nervous about tomorrow," you admit. "- I've never felt like I belonged, you know what I mean?" You scrunched up your nose, and he continued to massage your scalp.

"I'm so hesitant when it comes to attending these parties because when I was a kid, my dad took us to one of his black tie parties, and my mom let me wear this beautiful unicorn dress, but apparently, the black-tie rule was for everyone, regardless of age. The host didn't want me to go inside the halls with my pink glittery dress because it didn't reach past my ankles...one of my cousins pitied me so much. She let me borrow her dress, but it was too big on me." You flinched at the faint memory.

"I had to sit beside my mom the entire time, and all of the kids were staring at me like I had a third leg." Your teeth burrowed into your lower lips. "That sounds horrible," he frowns. "Which is why I promised to never look unfashionable ever again..." You say.

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nameofficial: our secret moments, in a crowded room. @aemondtargaryensapphires

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MaybeThisTime3: Rue, when was this?

aemondtargaryensapphires: ❤️‍🔥👸🏻 - nameofficial: ❤️

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Lucerys stuffs a large amount of vanilla ice cream inside of his mouth. "Did you check Instagram?" He teases his brother, continuing to play on his Nintendo Switch - almost smearing an entire spoonful of vanilla on the screen.

"Can you stop being annoying for five seconds?" Jacaerys rolled his eyes.

"He is so bothered," Joffrey giggled while scrolling on his phone. "I am not bothered," Jacaerys gritted his teeth.

"He's not bothered, but he's turning red!" Lucerys piped in once again. "I wonder if he'll take her to the reunion." Joffrey ponders, and a sigh escapes the oldest brother's mouth. Give you my wild. Give you a child. Give you the silence that only comes when two people understand each other. Now, the only thing he's answered with is a different type of silence.

It's neither of your fault that the relationship ended. It was just too much of a chasm, your personalities were too different. You were the type of person to fight for the relationship, the type of person who disobeyed fate, and he is the opposite of that.

Because if something is meant to be, then the whole universe conspires for you to have it by your side. If it is meant to be - you wouldn't need to fight for it.

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You were wearing a white-satin dress that reached past your knees, it was embroidered with Swarovski crystals, truly a miracle that the dress ever held up. "Remember the story, I proposed on the beach, we didn't bring any cameras." He whispered, and you could sense his nervousness.

The car continues to drive inside a long entryway that curves to the side, you are greeted with tall bushes that cover the facade of the mansion. As you reach the third turn, the beautiful mansion is made known to you.

It was truly a sight to behold.

A mixture of French and Italian architecture was made even richer by the aged bricks that were used in constructing the estate. The mansion was about the same size as Central Park. It was clear that Aemond Targaryen was richer than God.

"You said family reunion," your lips pursed into a thin line. He gives you a stare, telling you that he didn't expect this many guests either. "My father must've invited his golfing buddies," he explains, regaining his composure.

He reaches for a box inside of his pockets. He opens it, showing you a beautiful emerald oval ring, a ring that is simple and elegant - a ring like you. "Are you ready to meet the vipers?" He smirks, placing the ring on your ring finger.

A doorman begins to open the doors to the car.

"If we wait until I'm ready, we'll be waiting forever." You plastered a smile on your face, straightening your posture, and exiting the car - making sure that everyone's eyes were on you.

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Jace freezes as he sees the faint silhouette of your body. His relationship with you ended on good terms; he was happy with the outcome, but seeing you a year later - brings him back to pleasant and unpleasant memories. He partly wishes that he was stupid enough to his ex-girlfriend, but he is smarter than that.

He knows that the only time that he was ever truly happy was when he was with you, and now you've left him. Now, the only thing that brings him back to those pleasant memories are the songs that you've written about him.

What a horrible day to be alive.

His jaw clenches, watching as his uncle's hands snake around your waist, the very same waist that his hand used to fit like a perfect puzzle in. He watches as Aemond leans to whisper something in your ear, and you giggle. He bets that the joke isn't funny at all.

"Isn't that (Your Name)?" Rhaenyra inquires, and suddenly, Jacaerys' hand feels clammy around the champagne flute. He desperately wants to puke. Rhaenyra's eyes softened instantly, heart heaving for her oldest son. "Oh Jace," she cooed and he forced a smile on his face - he took a lazy sip of his champagne, and the drink bubbles in his stomach.

"I'm alright, mom." He insists.

Jace still cannot understand why his heart longs for you. He has everything he wants - he has everything that you prevented him from achieving because you dreamed of marriage. Why is he missing the shackles that he allowed destiny to remove?

Aemond begins to march in his direction, a satisfied grin on the other man's face. Could he have known? Jace asks himself. "Jacey," the man teased, one hand wrapped around you, and the other hand on a glass of merlot. Aemond was absolutely glowing.

"Uncle Aemond," Jace answered.

"Have you met this lovely lady?" Aemond tilted his head, half-expecting you to smile warmly at his nephew, as you have done to all of his relatives, but he was greeted with silence. Your eyes trailed back and forth between Aemond and his nephew. "Uncle?" your eyebrows merged together.

"I'm too young to be an uncle. My sister had him early." He informs. "I didn't expect you to be here," Jace says plainly as if Aemond was not standing right beside you. "I could say the same thing," you replied, your grip on Aemond tightens.

Something shimmery on your fingers catches Jacaerys' eyes. An engagement ring. An oval emerald engagement ring - like the color that the other side of his family proudly wore. "Congratulations on the engagement," he greets, forcing himself to be happy. Marriage is the only thing that you didn't agree on with him - he found it useless, you found it monumental.

"Thank you," you and Aemond say in unison.

"When she's the one wrapped around your fingers, you have to make a fist." Aemond stares at your face. Jace could only hum in return, his throat felt dry again. "I know the feeling," he takes a sip of his champagne.

He curses himself for still having these feelings for you. He should have fought against the world to have you beside him. He should have taken you dancing, bowling, skating, singing - but he didn't, because he was too engrossed in his own little world, unaware that everything was unfolding outside of his bedroom window.

He takes another deep breath, the world is bigger than the stories inside of his laptop. He can't believe that it has taken him this long to figure that out.

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"Can you please sing something?" Helaena requests, flashing you her puppy eyes. You turned to look around you, and everyone was looking in your direction. Viserys raises an eyebrow as if asking for you to sing.

Daeron hands you one of his acoustic guitars.

"Do you have any song in mind?" You inquired, prepared to sing one of your love songs. "How did it end!" Helaena cheers, pulling Morghul (her dog) on her lap.

"That's a nice song that you've chosen," you forced a smile on your face. Of course, she chooses the one song about your breakup with Jace.

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aemondtargaryensapphires: beautiful ❤️

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>comments

helaenatargaryen: YOU ARE SO FAST WITH THESE HAHA

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Jace watches as the waiters begin to serve their food. It was a gourmet meal provided by his step-father's fine dining restaurant, the food was beautiful, and it had the right color. You couldn't help but feel out of place - like the girl who wore a unicorn dress to a black-tie event.

"I'm allergic, I can't eat this." You whispered, flashing Aemond a concerned look. "Sorry, Aemond was the one who confirmed the samples." Rhaenyra's voice sounded apologetic, and sad because she was the one who planned the entire event. "Oh, it's okay." You smiled.

"How long have you known each other?" Jace blurts out, swirling the champagne in his glass. The first thing that couples do while knowing each other - is going on a date, and if you've been on a date with him thousands of times, wouldn't Aemond know about your likes and dislikes?

"Nine months, and it's alright, you can have Aegon's salad. He only pretends to be vegan." Aemond switches your place with Aegon's who is currently occupied in the bathroom. "Thank you," you mumbled.

"Your brother is going to throw a fit once he sees that," Alicent interrupts. "Mom he won't even notice," Helaena looks at you with hearts on her eyes.

Jace could only raise his eyebrows. Nine months and, his uncle wasn't aware that you're allergic to lamb sauce. He bets that Aemond doesn't even know that your eyebrows merge together when you're angry. He bets that the other man doesn't even know that your favorite game is Overcooked, and you refuse to move to the next stage when you fail to reach all three stars.

He's losing you to a man that hardly knows you.

"Where did you meet?" Lucerys pipes in, taking a sip of his strawberry milkshake. "In the country club," Aemond smiles. He looks at you like you are the earth, and he is nothing but a moon that rotates around you. "Her friend Lucie Churchill, she introduced us to each other," Aemond lies.

Alicent smiles, a look of adoration on her face. Aemond has chosen the best possible woman to fall in love with, a woman who's mantle is heavy with her own achievements. "When are you getting married?" She chimes in, happy with the idea of having grandbabies.

"Soon, I've always wanted a summer wedding." You answered coyly. You glanced at him, and suddenly, this summer thing was beginning to look real. "The good ones never wait," Aemond smiles, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

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Jace enters the balcony, seeing that you are sipping wine on your own and staring at the French skyline. The dress that you were wearing was now slightly wrinkled, and the ring on your finger was slightly loose.

"Are you sure?" he asks.

"Sure about what?" You asked with a rough voice.

"My uncle," his lips are pursed into a thin line. He looks for a glimmer of hope behind your eyes, but it is too far.

He is too late to bring this love back to life.

"He's the only thing that I'm sure of," you answered.

"I'm sorry," he apologizes, and your eyebrows merge together. "Sorry for what?" You scoffed.

"I'm sorry that I didn't fight for us." He continues. "- it was always doomed from the beginning. I could never have asked you to make that sacrifice for me. I didn't accept it at first, but that just wasn't the life for you." You finished.

"But if I asked you back then, you would have made that sacrifice for me, so I'm sorry for not being what you needed." He says, slowly walking out of the balcony, completely oblivious of the man leaning on the door and eavesdropping on your conversation.

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nameofficial: I can't help falling in love with you... ❤️ This is the beginning of forever baby 💍

liked by 2,129,391 others

>comments

ynkittens: wait did u get married? - nameofficial: Engaged. I'm sorry for not making it clear in the caption haha 😭

JacintaRobin: "I wanna teach you how forever feels like" aint for JACK IN A BOX bcs it's for mr aemond - Bananashake44: Aemond the literal alpha male??? THE SIGMA GIGA CHAD ??? THE ULTIMATE RIZZLER

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PART TWO

@glame @xcinnamonmalfoyx @winxchesters @yentroucnagol @hotchnerswife @mxxny-lupin @mxtantrights @urmomsgirlfriend1 @kravitzwhore@sweethoneyblossom1 @introverbatim @flrboyd @kemillyfreitas

[kindaasrikal]

Slapping the ninja with hobbies that aren’t just ninja-ing or the already clearly stated ones because they desperately need lives

Cole seriously likes arts and crafts. He’s got his own little area in his room thats just filled with arts and crafts supplies. Glue, glitter, fabric, ribbons, sticks, gems, you name it. He creates ribbon roses, makes his own birthday cards, creates cute little designs almost all the time and gives them to all of the ninja in random little areas.

Zane actually likes taking small random items and fixing them. Nothing big like how three certain somebodies (Cough nya jay and pixal cough) do but just little things everyone owns and can’t fix. Kai accidentally broke a massive candle in a har and he ran off to find Zane to fix it, a bracelet Nya owns broke so she immediately hands it off to Zane, Lloyd breaks a tea cup and presents it to Zane with a ‘please help me.’

Jay really likes any sort of skating. Roller skating, ice skating, skateboarding, you name it he knows it and much better than you do. He takes pride in knowing the most complicated of tricks and moves, and may or may not have used his ninja training to cheat a little but we all would do that let’s be real. He sometimes starts skateboarding in the monastery and Wu may or may not have snatched it from under his feet multiple times but Jay has no proof.

Kai, after having everyone constantly talk to him about how ‘fun’ it was, got hooked onto adventure books. he reads them all, he knows all the big authors, he knows every character and every piece of lore and if he's obsessed enough he WILL buy the entire series. A guilty pleasure he got hooked onto right after was fanfiction. He reads it all.

Nya, strangely enough, got hooked onto flowers. She loves making bouquets and giving them to anyone and everyone who wants them. She’s memorised every meaning each flower has been given, and soon enough she got interested in other plants too, especially ones under water. She takes care of them like her babies and if they die she will be found sobbing in a corner holding the pot or whatever it was in.

Lloyd tripped his way into making clothes. He learnt how to sow from Misako, who was used to altering clothes for Garmadon and Wu. Lloyd specifically likes making designs on shirts and hoodies and the such, usually working with Cole on that front. You could usually find him hunched over anywhere dimly lit with a needle, a shirt, a bunch of thread and a will to make something cool. He could use the machines, but he once accidentally shoved his finger right underneath and he’s held a grudge ever since.

Bonus:

Skylor loves to write, and write she does with that uncompleted 200k original story she’s afraid no one will like, and keeps procrastinating so much that she even writes fanfiction of stuff she hasn’t been into for years. The reader named ‘redhotshot204’ keeps leaving comments though, so she supposes she should keep updating.

Morro is unashamedly good at ballet. He first learnt it for his ninja business, but he became so good at it he couldn’t let it go. He’s graceful with every step he takes and never makes any mistakes every twirl and spin and whatever and he will kick people in the face. Hard. He honestly hates tutus so he will try strangling people with it if forced to wear one, but he absolutely loves ballet shoes. Spinning around in his tip toes became an instinctual habit after a bit.

Harumi likes making jewellery, and makes them as heavy and as sharp as possible. Shes capable of making earrings, necklaces, bracelets, anklets, whatever. It mainly started because she couldn’t find the type of jewellery she wanted during her SoG years, so she began making it by herself. She even glued the spikes of her gi on herself.

Echo got interested in cars, specifically toy cars, and making them functional as actual cars. Not the most normal of hobbies but knowing who he’s related to its to be expected. He once accidentally made an evil toy car and it kept hitting everyone’s heels and ankles the entire day. Harumi ‘accidentally’ pushed Cole onto it so it would break. They had to perform a funeral because Echo was going to actually arrest them for murder if they didn’t.

Pixal got into painting. Sometimes shes slapping paint onto a canvas and then calling it a day, other times shes making something that rivals the Mona Lisa. Landscapes are what she prefers the most, often drawing the scenes they all see when going on big missions, with bright colours to show the beauty they saw. They love hanging it all up around the monastery.