#so i can swish around and be cozy

[coeursainte]

honestly, despite my overall adoration for the 18th century and the 1940s (and all those s/tar wa/rs vibes), y'all have no idea how much ev/er after and cindere/lla 2015 have me in an aesthetic chokehold.

[bi-writes]

Is it possible for Simon's MOB request him to dress up as Ghost for Halloween? and of course she will wear whatever Simon want her to

But if you don't want to bring Ghost into MOB's universe, just skip this. We completely understand 😉

it's about time, huh?

mail-order bride (18+)

when simon comes home after a long two weeks away, he's pleasantly surprised by what waits for him. there's carved pumpkins lined up on the porch ascending up the steps, and there's candles lit inside, making them flicker. along the porch railing, there's garlands with orange lights, and there's a black feathered wreath on the door. simon smiles under his mask, even wider once he sees the cats staring at him from the window. their tails are swishing, and he waves at them before putting the key into the door and coming inside.

it smells like pine. there's candles on everywhere, making the entire living room glow a soft orange.

all the throw pillows are different. they've been changed. they are made of velvet and linen, with some of them having fall prints on them like black cats and pumpkins and autumn-colored checkers. there's pumpkin motifs and leaves everywhere, like all the colors everywhere have been changed to browns, reds, and sage greens. you poke your head out from behind the fridge, smiling as you see simon by the door, taking off his boots and jacket. he showered before coming back from work; you can tell because he's not wearing the skull balaclava, and he has regular clothes on.

"hey," you greet him softly, waving. "you're in early."

"couldn't wait," simon murmurs. "had to come see my girls."

you snort, rolling your eyes, but you shut the fridge before coming into the living room. you wrap your arms around his neck easily, tugging him close as you snatch his mask off and kiss him softly.

"i missed you, simon," you whisper between kisses, and he wraps those big arms around you tight, cradling the back of your head as he kisses you back.

"i missed ya more."

you giggle when he picks you up a little, turning you in a little circle before setting you back down. it baffles you how easily he takes your weight; barely even grunts, just smooths his hands down your thighs and picks you up with that wicked, crooked smile.

"loved wot ya did wit' the house, luv," simon adds, chuckling low. your eyes light up, and you look around, beaming at the cozy couch you've made up with the new blankets and pillows you had bought. you giggle, looking back at him, cupping his cheeks to bring him closer to you.

"the kettle's on. why don't i make you some tea? we have so much to catch up on," you coo, and simon blushes, easily, and you giggle when he tries to look away. "simon!"

he slips a hand up your skirt to stop your laughing. you gasp, your breath caught in your throat, and simon hums as he kisses along your jaw, chapped lips sucking at the skin until you're liquid in his arms.

"mmm...a cuppa sounds nice, baby," simon chuckles in your ear, and you nod, pulling away slowly. he squeezes your ass gently before letting you go, kissing under your ear before he collapses onto the couch, sinking into it. he grabs one of the thick new blankets thrown over it, and you come into the room a few minutes later with his mug of tea and a big smile on your face. "oh, ya didn't have ta do tha'...i-i meant--"

"i know what you meant, simon," you say softly, setting it down next to him. "i wanted to, okay?"

he smiles a little, nodding, and then he reaches for your hand to pull you into his lap.

"okay, hafta catch up, luv," simon sighs. "tell me wot happened while i was gone. want ta know everythin'."

you shrug, leaning back against his chest.

"did a lot of shopping," you tell him. "a lot. sorry about the bills, simon."

"don't worry about the bills," he says firmly, and you smile a little when he takes your hands and squeezes them gently. "tell me more."

"i bought mostly stuff for the house," you smile. "all the halloween stuff. i left a few pumpkins for us though. that we can do together."

"mmm. i'd like tha'."

"and i bought...some halloween costumes," you finish, looking over your shoulder at him. he raises a brow, grinning, and he tilts his head to the side.

"you wanna dress up, tha' it, luv?"

"well...i bought a lot of costumes for me," you continue. "i...i was hoping...that..."

simon nudges you a little. you swallow, squeezing his hands, and he kisses your shoulder gently.

"well...i was hoping you could put on your..." you clear your throat, "i mean...you could be...ghost...and i-i could be--"

"ya want me ta wear my mask?" simon asks, leaning in a little. he puts his face into the crook of your shoulder, and you shiver a little. "want me to be ghost...not simon...tha' it, baby?"

you can't meet his eyes. you shrink a little in his lap, and he buries his face further, sucking gently on the curve of your jaw.

"woteva ya want, swee'eart," simon mutters. "can have woteva ya want."

"simon--" you gasp, arching your back, and he wraps a strong arm around your middle and holds you against him.

"shhh--" simon quiets you. "'s olright. why don't ya wait 'ere for me, aye? sit right there, lookin' so pretty..." he wraps a big hand around your throat, holding you there, squeezing gently. "why don't ya sit there, and i'll go put somethin' on, and we can practice?"

"p-practice?"

"tha's right," simon licks his lips. "got to see if our costumes will look nice together, don't we? got to make sure we match."

"y-yeah..."

"will ya wait 'ere, swee'eart? wait right 'ere for me?"

"yes. yeah. yes, simon." you're breathless, shaking practically, and simon tucks you against the couch before grabbing his bag and heading into the bedroom. he gives you a wink before the door shuts, and you put a hand over your chest and breathe deeply as you settle there.

your husband never fails to make your head spin. he occupies your every thought; the way he loves, the manner in which he takes care of you, the insatiable look in his eyes whenever his eyes are on you. never in your life have you ever been more at the center of someone else's world. never in your life has every word that leaves your mouth been so akin to some kind of revered gospel.

everything you say matters. nothing that you do can be wrong. nothing that you feel is ever dismissed, nothing that you want is ever not given to you, everything in your life is sunshine and rainbows and fuck, he's so fucking hot--

your brain goes fuzzy when the bedroom door opens again. it's someone you don't recognize, not really.

even when you've visited him on base, he somehow still maintains himself as simon in your presence. when you look into those eyes, you always recognize them. they are soft, they are kind, they are the ones you have always known.

whoever stands in front of you isn't someone you've met yet. he's taller, somehow. maybe it's the way he stands. feet spread apart in those steel-toed boots, cargos snug around his massive legs. your eyes start low, taking in the holsters that are positively squeezing his big thighs to his waist. mmm, his solid middle. that place that never gives, that feels full and warm when you've fed him a nice meal, now he uses it as his own personal armor. he wears a windbreaker under his tact vest, but he's pushed the sleeves up to his elbow, his tattoos on display. they've never looked so right on him until now. you follow the line of his chest to his face.

his face. his second skin. you've seen this mask before, that dirty skull that he never washes properly that frames his eyes, making him sunken and dead. he's smeared eye-black on under it, and his eyes are voids. they sink, the whites barely peeking through, and as you look at him, really look at him, you don't recognize what you see.

he's so big. he's never looked bigger. he takes up the entirety of the doorway, and you shift on the couch as you take in all of him this way.

it's like seeing someone new. it's like being married to two different men. it's simon, surely, somewhere under there, but whoever you're in the presence of isn't simon.

"hmm..." you giggle nervously, standing up. he narrows his eyes a little, flexing his hands in and out of fists, and you point to the bedroom behind him. "i'm...i'm gonna go get the costumes i bought. and...and we can pick one for me."

he blinks, but he says nothing. he walks slow, past you, and you hold his eyes as he does, and he holds yours. you turn to keep eye contact as he takes a seat on the couch, spreading his legs wide, resting his hands on his thighs. you swallow, nervous under his intense stare, and you hurry towards the bedroom to fish the costumes out of the closet.

you look at yourself in the mirror. you look frazzled. your entire body feels hot, too hot, and your palms are clammy. you wipe your face gently before going back into the living room, where ghost is waiting exactly where you left him.

it looks like he hasn't moved an inch.

you hold up a few of the hangers, showing off the outfits on them.

"o-okay, i got a few. some of them are...kind of dumb," you laugh nervously. you hold up a stupid nurse outfit. it's a short little dress that would show off your thighs and way too much cleavage, and ghost considers it for a few long moments before he shakes his head. you clear your throat, nodding. "yeah, this one was dumb."

you toss it aside, holding up another one. it's a fitted bodysuit with a matching witch's hat, and ghost shakes his head at this one as well. you toss it aside to show him the next. he turns down every single one. little red riding hood. alice in wonderland. even the cute little corset angel dress that you really thought would work.

you play with your fingers nervously, looking at the costumes that you've tossed over a chair. you frown a little, curling your toes, the picture of quietly frustrated as you think about what to say next. ghost sits there, unbothered, staring at you as if he's waiting for something. he blinks slow.

"i-i don't understand what you want," you whisper. "i...i thought you'd like at least one of them, i mean..." you run a hand over your face, shrugging. "what do you want me to wear, nothing? i--"

ghost tilts his head to the side, making your breath catch in your throat.

what do you want me to wear, nothing?

your lips part, and you take a few deep breaths. nothing. he wants you to wear nothing. simon--well, simon would say differently. simon would tell you to wear whatever you wanted. he'd tell you that you would look beautiful in every single one, and you think maybe he'd ask you to wear the nurse outfit just to be cheeky.

not ghost. ghost doesn't like the theatrics. ghost doesn't care for the game. he doesn't chase, everything he wants comes to him, or he makes it come to him. everything he desires ends up between his teeth, and that includes the woman that's wearing his fucking ring standing in front of him.

you take a timid step forward. he narrows his eyes under the mask, watching curiously, and when you make your way between his legs, he stares up at you, right into your eyes. you smile.

"you might be a ghost, but you're still my husband," you say softly. "so will you do the honors for me?"

ghost hums lowly. he reaches for you, gripping the base of your shirt, and he lifts it over your head with ease. he tugs your shorts down along with your panties as you unclasp your bra, and finally you see the flicker of something in those eyes when your tits fall in his line of sight.

there's a man under it all, as much as he would like to pretend like there isn't.

you lean over, putting your hands on either side of him on the back of the couch before straddling him. he grunts as you sit down, his hands finding your waist, and you lean forward enough to press your forehead to his.

ghost, like your simon, is insatiable. as soon as he has you this close, his hands are wandering. gloved hands slide up your slides and cup your tits, thumbs smoothing over your nipples until they're puckered and hard. once he's satisfied that you're shuddering enough, his hands fall to your thighs, spreading them apart even more before he grips both sides of your ass and squeezes, spreading them apart. the tease of his thumb over your ass makes your brain restart, and if he wasn't wearing the mask, you have a feeling you'd seek a sickening grin come over his face.

your mouth falls open, short breaths leaving you, and your eyes flutter closed when his hand slips between your thighs and cups you, big palm swallowing your folds as he puts two fingers to your clit and makes a nasty squelch as he moves them in firm circles.

"olready so wet..."

you squeak with surprise when he flips you over. your back slams against his chest, and it arches away from him as he plants your heels on either side of his thighs and wraps an arm around your middle to hold you against him.

"oh--ha--"

you reach back and grip the back of his neck for support as he puts his hand back where it belongs. two gloved fingers move in achingly slow circles through your folds, but like a teasing shit, he only skims your clit every so often. he leans in, humming against your ear, and he smacks his lips under the mask as he watches from over your shoulder.

"is it time?" he rasps against your cheek. "mmm...y'r husband neglects ya, huh?"

"w-what? no..."

"'s olright," ghost huffs. "i know. even pretty girls need to get fucked, tha's the truth, innit?"

"nnghh--"

"even sweet, pretty girls deserve a firm hand. don't hafta be so gentle...ya don't want gentle, aye? not wot ya need."

"just need you," you whine, and he paws at your tits hard as he sinks two fingers into you, right down to the last knuckle. you cry with relief, bucking your hips up against his hand, and he shushes you, shaking his head. ghost is simon's nasty alter ego, and you just want more and more and more of it.

"relax," he chuckles. fuck, he's so smug, it's infuriating and appealing all the same. "just need ta get ya nice and soft...need ya to open up fer me. won't be easy, takin' me."

like always with your husband, the one thing that is easy is not thinking at all. you sink, relaxing into his grip until there is no resistance from you. you don't have to have any thoughts when it comes to him. you can just be in the moment. you can float on this plane of nonexistence, this place that is just for you where you can just be and enjoy and think of nothing but how good you feel at this exact moment. he's got such big fingers--they curl, petting your insides, coaxing you to make all sorts of soft, pretty noises that just make him more desperate. he's hard against your ass; he chubbed up as soon as you sat in his lap, but now it's an unmistakable feeling.

he is everything you have ever wanted. he is more than you deserve. for your entire life, nothing has ever felt more precious. nothing has ever been more special. no one in the entire world has ever been so pervasive and demanding and thoughtful and wonderful, and you love him so much, you think you might die if you don't have him--

"i know," his voice brings you back. you're crying, tears wetting your face. you're shivering, holding onto him, babbling nonsense that sounds a lot like i love you and please and more. "i know, baby--it's so good, innit? feels so good, look at ya...look at ya, 's oll mine, 's mine, everythin' tha' y'are is mine."

everything you are is mine. skin, bone, and all.

"i'm gonna--no!" you seize when his fingers leave you. you miss them, turning around in his lap, cupping his cheeks, shaking your head, desperate desperate desperate. "don't take it from me, don't--!"

he hums. deep within his chest, something you feel trickling up his throat as your hands slide down his neck. you paw at the tactical vest, pulling on the straps, but ghost is something you cannot move. he's rigid, solid. nothing about him gives. even hard, pressed up against your cunt, he loses no control.

"gonna be good?" he asks. "hmm? gonna be good, and let me take care o' this, aye? can't 'ave ya coming on my fingers, swee'eart. first time ya come tonight, 's gonna be on my cock, y'hear tha'? say you hear me."

"i hear you--"

"tha's good, good, i like tha', like when ya do wot i ask. 's easy, innit? easy ta do wot i tell ya."

you can see those eyes. you're in love with those eyes. it doesn't matter how much he paints around them or how many layers he covers his face with, you will never forget them. you will know them when you close your eyes for the last time, and you will know them when you are born again, and you will spend eternity looking for them until you find the ones you know belong to you.

simon will wear a million faces, and you will know each and every one of them, just like you know this one, even the one you can't see.

simon makes other men so inferior. ghost makes them infinitely obsolete.

"so pretty, i've got such a pretty wife," ghost mutters. "did good, didn't i? gettin' myself such a nice girl. a messy girl." you're drooling as he lifts his hips, undoing his jeans with one wet, gloved hand. the zipper comes down, and your eyes fall as you watch him shove the denim just below his balls. "fuck--so full, baby, huh? won't last if y'keep lookin' at me tha' way, close y'r mouth."

you giggle a little. it escapes you without you even thinking, and when ghost tilts his head to the side, you're caught in it. he's about to fuck you for the very first time. he's about to eat, like he's never eaten before. you're about to lose your fucking mind, that's for certain, and nothing about it scares you.

simon might not be here right now, but ghost still knows what you are to him. he's going to take care of you. he loves you.

you cradle his head when he turns you in his lap. you clutch onto the back of his mask, lowering yourself in his arms as you press your lips to his over the mask. your shuddering breaths make him groan, and he hisses when you use one hand to slip his cock between your thighs, rocking your hips to coat him in slick. the bulbous head catches between your ass, and you lick over his jaw as you draw your hips back, meeting his eyes again.

you never want to know another man. even if they take him from you, even if someone manages to put a bullet in him, you'll never be with anyone else. this is it, the end all be all.

"not supposed t'think," ghost tells you. "y'r too pretty t'think."

your lashes flutter, and he grins under the mask.

"just the tip?" he teases. you press your forehead to his, shaking a little, and you nod your head. you take it nice and slow. he hitches you high up on his lap, on your knees, and you're a whimpering mess when he pushes the fat tip inside of you. you rock your hips, feeding yourself more, and ghost leans his head back when he feels you squeezing and squeezing and squeezing as you take just a little more of him, little by little. "don't need ta work ya open when y'r cunt's beggin' for it, innit?"

you squeeze his broad shoulders, leaning all your weight on him as you sit down on his cock. both of you groan, finally one, and you push his mask up to seal a kiss as you feel him throbbing as he touches deep.

"i love you so much," you whisper between kisses, "but i've been waiting t-too long for this."

"don't worry," ghost mutters. "there'll be time f'nice 'n sweet later. i know wot y'need."

and fuck, he certainly does.

ghost has you propped up underneath him when he fucks you for the first time. he shoved a few pillows under your hips, and the angle has your eyes in the back of your head as he indulges himself. when he puts a gloved hand low on your tummy and presses, you see it--fuck, it's good.

he's hitting that spot again and again now. the groans that slip out, the ones he can't control, have you squeezing his cock every time he meets your hips, and he has to grab onto your thighs to keep you from shaking yourself too hard. his balls are heavy, fat, smacking against your ass with a wet sound that's making it hard to focus. you go in and out, and every time that skull mask comes into your vision again, you feel a new wave of shudders make it's way down your spine, curling your toes.

"tha's it, love--" ghost praises. "ughh, knew ya'd be so good f'me. knew ya'd take it like this. open up--yeah, yeah--fuck--" he spits into his glove, nasty, and when he thumbs at your clit, you mewl. your back nearly lifts off the couch and the pillows you rest on, but ghost just cackles, pressing you back down, his palm a nice weight on your tummy as he pushes down again just right and-- "oh--fuck--there it is..."

your orgasm is unlike any other you've ever had. for a split second, the world is nothing but stars. your vision hazes, white spots dancing, and when you blink back to consciousness, ghost has slowed his hips, his hands gripping your hips as he watches the mess between your legs quickly wet his cargos. he hums low, eyes wild, and he keeps fucking up into you suddenly, a bit quicker, renewed vigor.

"want anotha one," ghost hisses, and you babble as you try and tell him i-i can't, never been able to--but he's still going, still running his big thumb in nice circles, and when he draws your legs up and over his shoulders and leans his weight on you, you cry with relief when something softer but just as lovely hits you head-on. ghost gets down onto his elbows, faltering, and when you feel his cum spurt, you shake at how good it feels to be surrounded by your husband, inside and out, the start of him and end of you blurred between tangled limbs and shared breaths and the wedding band you can feel him wearing underneath his gloved hand as he intertwines your fingers and squeezes.

your body is liquid. it seeps back into the couch, melding to the cushions underneath you, and you smile up at your husband as he smooths his hands over your face and chuckles low and breathless.

"y'r so beautiful," he murmurs, and you tell him the same, because it's true. you touch your nose to his, breathing him in, and when you laugh, he asks you what it is.

"i just..." you laugh again. "hmm...why did we wait so long?"

you laugh together, soft and quiet, and when you kiss him, he's gentle. he sits up enough to throw his gear off, the tact vest falling to the floor, and you toss his mask behind you so you can scratch at his short hair and kiss his cheeks.

"so..." you bite your lip, and he gives you all his attention.

"wot is it, baby?"

"you...wanna go again?"

[pucked-bunnie]

un-offical ⎜j.hughes

pairings: jack hughes x reader genre: romance ⎜situationship to lovers ⎜christmas special ⎜ warnings: readers ex being a jerk ⎜ jack being a doberman boyfriend ⎜ this is honestly just short and sweet synopsis: things with jack are complicated at the best of times - but they're about to get even worse when he meets your ex boyfriend at your families annual christmas party word count: 3.9k authors note:  this was a combination of two requests i thought went really well together - I hope you all enjoy!! Happy Christmas season!

(unedited)

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“Hon, there is someone at the door for you.” Your mum calls through the house, her voice casual yet carrying that sing-song lilt she used when she knew something was about to stir up excitement. You shoot to your feet, the soft rustle of your dress swishing against your ankles as you jog to the front door. You give her a quick nod of thanks as she drifts away, leaving you alone to handle the unexpected arrival. Standing in front of the door, you take a steadying breath, smoothing your dress and running a hand through your hair to make yourself look a bit more composed. Then, with a slight smile, you pull it open.

“Hey, didn’t think you’d make it,” you greet, the words sliding off your tongue with practiced ease. It’s a lie, of course. You’d been tracking his location on Find My Friends only minutes ago, and the little dot marking his presence had been slowly inching closer to your house, sending a flutter of nerves through your chest. But the moment Jack steps into view, all of those feelings morph into a warm kind of familiarity. There he stands, a neatly wrapped present in his hands, his white button-down pristine and tucked into tailored black slacks. His hair, as always, has that perfectly messy charm, and his grin is enough to light up even the frostiest winter night.

“Come in, come in, it’s freezing out there,” you say, stepping aside to usher him into the entryway. The air outside bites at your skin, a stark contrast to the cozy warmth of your home, but Jack’s presence brings an added heat—an unspoken connection that’s been brewing for months.

“I managed to squeeze it into my schedule,” Jack jokes, his tone light but his eyes sincere. That, too, is a lie. You know it, and he knows it. The moment you had mentioned your family’s annual Christmas party weeks ago, he had cleared his calendar without a second thought. The idea of being here, of being with you in a space so intimate and familial, was something he couldn’t resist. “I…um, got this for you.” Jack says softly, handing over the small present. 

Before you can respond, a voice cuts through the air from the living room. “Is that Jack?” your younger cousin, Emily, calls out, poking her head around the corner. Her face lights up the moment she sees him, and Jack waves, his easy charm working its magic as always. You roll your eyes playfully but can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips.

“It’s Jack,” you confirm, and she’s gone as quickly as she appeared, probably to alert the rest of the family of his arrival. Your stomach flips slightly at the thought. Having Jack here is already complicated enough, given the undefined nature of your relationship. Your family, however, has an uncanny way of reading between lines that don’t even exist yet.

"They're expecting a lot of photos tonight." You say with a chuckle - your hand reaching out to slip into his. “Don't say I didn't warn you,” you tease, leading him into the living room. The scent of pine, cinnamon, and freshly baked cookies fills the air, wrapping around the two of you like a comforting blanket. Jack’s eyes wander, taking in the twinkling lights on the tree, the garlands strung along the bannisters, and the small army of cousins bustling around in various stages of sugar highs.

Just as Jack is about to say something, the sound of the doorbell echoes through the house, cutting through the festive chatter like a needle scraping across a record. You freeze. For a moment, you think about ignoring it, but your mum’s voice rings out again. “Hon, could you get that?” she calls, and your stomach twists with a sense of foreboding.

You glance at Jack, who raises an eyebrow in curiosity but stays silent. With a sigh, you make your way back to the front door. The moment you open it, the air seems to drain from your lungs. Standing there, a crooked grin on his face and a bottle of wine in hand, is your ex-boyfriend.

“Surprise,” he says, his voice tinged with that familiar cocky confidence that used to charm you but now only makes your pulse quicken for all the wrong reasons. You’re too stunned to respond, your brain scrambling to understand why he’s here.

“Tyler? What are you doing here?” you manage to ask, your voice quieter than you intended.

He shrugs, his grin widening. “Your mum invited me. Said it’d be nice to catch up.”

“Of course she did,” you mutter under your breath, stepping aside to let him in. He’s barely in the entryway when Jack appears, his presence filling the space and immediately shifting the dynamic. His warm smile fades slightly as his eyes dart from you to the man now standing too close for comfort.

“Jack, this is, uh…this is Tyler,” you say, the awkwardness of the introduction making your cheeks flush. “Tyler this is Jack.” Tyler extends a hand, his expression unreadable. 

“Nice to meet you,” he says, though his tone suggests the opposite. Jack hesitates for only a fraction of a second before shaking his hand firmly, his jaw tightening ever so slightly.

“Likewise,” Jack replies, his voice calm but his eyes sharp. The tension between them is palpable, an unspoken challenge hanging in the air. You’re not sure whether to laugh or cry at the absurdity of the situation.

“Do I know you from somewhere? You look so familiar,” Tyler says, his grin returning as he doesn’t wait for Jack to respond, immediately greeted by the rest of your family as he steps further into the house, leaving you and Jack standing by the door. Jack’s gaze lingers on Tyler’s retreating figure before he turns to you, his expression softening slightly.

“Complicated doesn’t even begin to cover it, does it?” he murmurs, his voice low enough that only you can hear.

“Welcome to my life,” you reply, your tone half-joking but your heart pounding as you realise the evening is only just beginning.

Jack doesn’t say anything as the two of you move back toward the living room, but you can feel the shift in his energy. His easy-going demeanour has been replaced by a quiet alertness, his jaw tight, his hands slipping into his pockets as if to ground himself. You can’t blame him. Tyler has always had a way of commanding attention, whether or not it’s welcome.

And Jack? Well, Jack isn’t the type to back down from a challenge—even one that hasn’t been fully issued yet.

When you re-enter the living room, Tyler’s already making himself at home. He’s perched on the edge of the couch, chatting animatedly with your dad about some mutual interest in sports, the bottle of wine he brought resting on the coffee table like a trophy. The room buzzes with holiday cheer, but for you, the atmosphere is anything but jolly.

Jack hangs back slightly, his gaze fixed on Tyler. The subtle scrutiny in his eyes makes your stomach twist. You know Jack well enough to know he’s piecing things together, every detail adding fuel to the silent fire building between them.

You’re about to steer Jack toward the other side of the room when Tyler’s voice cuts through the conversation.

“Hold on a second,” he says, leaning back on the couch and pointing a finger in Jack’s direction. “Now I know where I’ve seen you before.”

The room goes quiet, all eyes flicking between the two men. Jack, to his credit, doesn’t flinch. He merely raises an eyebrow, his posture calm but commanding.

“You’re Jack Hughes,” Tyler says, a slow grin spreading across his face as if he’s just uncovered some great secret

“New Jersey Devils, right? My buddies and I are huge fans.”

Jack offers a polite nod, his expression unreadable. “That’s me.”

Tyler lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head in mock amazement. “Wow. Didn’t think I’d run into an NHL star at a Christmas party. Small world, huh?”

You feel Jack’s gaze flicker toward you for a moment, as if seeking reassurance. But before you can say anything, Tyler leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“So, how do you two know each other?” he asks, his tone casual but his eyes alight with something more probing.

You open your mouth to answer, but Jack beats you to it.

“We met through mutual friends,” he says smoothly, the hint of a smirk playing on his lips. “Been close ever since.”

There’s something in the way he says it—something deliberate—that makes your heart skip a beat. Tyler catches it too, his grin faltering for a fraction of a second before he recovers.

“Close, huh?” Tyler repeats, leaning back again. His gaze slides to you, and you can see the wheels turning in his head. He’s not the type to let things go easily, especially when it comes to you.

“Yup,” you say quickly, trying to defuse the tension. “Jack’s been a great friend.”

Jack’s eyes dart to you, and for a brief moment, you swear you see a flicker of something unspoken there—something that contradicts the word friend.

“Friend,” Tyler echoes, his tone light but with an edge that makes your skin crawl. He looks back at Jack, his smile widening. “Well, I guess that makes you one of the lucky ones. This family’s not exactly easy to crack into.”

Jack chuckles, the sound low and deliberate. “I guess I’ve got a knack for that.”

The subtle back-and-forth isn’t lost on anyone in the room. Your dad clears his throat and starts up a conversation with your aunt to break the tension, while your cousins exchange wide-eyed glances, clearly enjoying the unfolding drama.

You, on the other hand, feel like you’re standing on a tightrope, one wrong step away from sending the whole evening spiralling out of control.

As the night progresses, Tyler continues to insert himself into every interaction, his charm dialled up to maximum.

But Jack doesn’t back down. He’s there, steady and unshaken, his quiet confidence cutting through Tyler’s bravado in ways you’re sure only the two of them fully understand.

At one point, Tyler corners you in the kitchen under the guise of catching up. “So,” he says, his voice low as he leans casually against the counter. “Hughes seems…interesting. You two really just friends?”

You glare at him, your patience wearing thin. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t,” Tyler says with a shrug, but the smirk tugging at his lips says otherwise. “Just curious. Guy like that, I’m sure he’s got plenty of options.”

You roll your eyes, refusing to take the bait. “Jack’s not like that.”

Tyler chuckles, his eyes narrowing slightly. “If you say so.” 

“Why are you even here, Tyler? What made you think it was a good idea to come to your ex-girlfriend’s families christmas party.” You sigh, rubbing your forehead lightly. 

“I told you, you’re mum invi—” 

“Forget the fucking invitation… A normal person would’ve said no.” You hiss, slapping his hand away as he reaches out to place it on your thigh. 

“Maybe I wanted to see if we could fix things - I miss you, baby.” Before you can respond, Jack appears in the doorway, his presence filling the small kitchen like a protective shield.

“Everything okay in here?” he asks, his tone light but his eyes locked on Tyler. The word ‘baby’ echoing around his head as his eyebrows furrow. You let out another long sigh, slapping at Tylers hand again as he tries to reach for you. 

“Peachy,” Tyler says, pushing off the counter and brushing past Jack with a pointed pat on the shoulder. “We’ll finish this later,” he adds, throwing the comment over his shoulder as he disappears back into the living room.

Jack watches him go, his jaw tight. Then he turns to you, his expression softening. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” you say, though your voice wavers slightly. “He’s just…Tyler.” Jack doesn’t press further, but the look in his eyes tells you he’s not about to let Tyler ruin the night—or whatever it is the two of you have been carefully building.

As the evening winds down, the tension between Jack and Tyler remains unspoken but undeniable. And its as jack follows you around the kitchen helping place the dishes in the dishwasher at the end of the night, you can’t help but feel a strange sense of relief—like you’ve made it through a storm together.

“Thanks for coming,” you say softly, your breath visible in the cold night air.

“Wouldn’t have missed it,” Jack replies, his voice warm and steady. For a moment, neither of you moves, the world around you falling away. Then, with a small smile, Jack leans in and presses a kiss to your cheek, his lips lingering just a second longer than they need to.

The night stretched on, the warmth of the party doing little to ease the nerves that Tyler’s presence had stirred up. He seemed determined to inject himself into every conversation, his charm dialled up for your family’s sake, but every so often, you’d catch his eyes lingering on you, his smirk creeping back like an unwanted shadow.

Jack, on the other hand, was the epitome of steady confidence. He stayed close but never possessive, moving easily among your family members, cracking jokes with your cousins, and even helping your mum carry dessert platters from the kitchen. But his watchful gaze never strayed far from you, especially when Tyler was nearby.

You did your best to avoid being caught alone with Tyler, but the tension was wearing you thin. By the time dessert had been served, you needed a moment to yourself. Slipping out the back door, you welcomed the sharp bite of the winter air, hoping it would clear your head.

The backyard was quiet, the snow glistening under the faint glow of the string lights your dad had hung along the patio railing. You wrapped your arms around yourself, the cold biting through your sweater, when a familiar voice broke the silence.

“Figured I’d find you out here,” Tyler said, his tone smooth as he stepped outside, shutting the door behind him.

You sighed, your breath fogging in the cold. “What do you want, Tyler?”

“To talk,” he said, moving closer. “Just you and me. Like old times.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you replied sharply, backing away slightly. “You shouldn’t even be here.”

“Come on, babe,” he said, his grin widening. “You can’t tell me you don’t miss it. Us. The way we used to be.”

Your patience snapped. “You mean the way you used to lie and manipulate me? No, Tyler, I don’t miss that.”

His grin faltered, his eyes narrowing. “You’re being dramatic. You’re seriously going to let some hockey star replace me?” You opened your mouth to retort, but before you could, Tyler took another step closer, his voice dropping.

“I still love you. You know that, right? We could fix this. Just say the word.”

You froze, disgust bubbling up in your chest. “No, Tyler. There’s nothing to fix.”

He reached out, his hand brushing your arm, and you flinched away. “Don’t touch me,” you snapped.

“Everything okay out here?” Jack’s voice cut through the tension like a knife - for the second time that night. You turned to see him standing in the doorway, his hands in his pockets, his eyes fixed on Tyler with a sharp, unreadable intensity.

Tyler dropped his hand, his smirk returning, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Just catching up,” he said casually, his tone dripping with false innocence.

Jack stepped down onto the patio, his calm demeanour doing nothing to hide the tension radiating from him. “Didn’t look like that to me.”

“Relax,” Tyler said, straightening. “We’re just talking. No need to get all territorial.”

Jack’s jaw tightened, his gaze flicking to you. “You alright?”

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, though your voice wavered. “Tyler was just leaving.”

Tyler chuckled, shaking his head. “Wow, really? You’re gonna let him speak for you now?”

Jack took another step forward, his posture unwavering. “She doesn’t need to explain herself to you. You heard her. Leave.”

The air between them crackled with unspoken tension, and for a moment, you thought Tyler might actually swing.

But then he scoffed, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Fine. I’m out,” he said, brushing past Jack and bumping his shoulder in the process. “But don’t think this is over.”

As Tyler disappeared back inside, Jack turned to you, his concern evident. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

You nodded, but the knot in your chest tightened as frustration bubbled to the surface. “Why did you bother stepping in, Jack? I could’ve handled it.”

Jack frowned, his expression hardening. “Because he wasn’t listening to you, and I wasn’t about to stand there and let him intimidate you.”

“I didn’t need you to play the hero,” you snapped, the adrenaline making your voice sharper than you intended. “It’s not like I’m your girlfriend or anything.”

Jack froze, the words hitting him like a physical blow. For a moment, he just stared at you, his expression shifting from surprise to something deeper—something hurt.

“You’re right,” he said quietly, his voice steady but tinged with something raw. “You’re not. But I care about you. And I wasn’t going to let him treat you like that.”

The sincerity in his words made your chest ache, but your frustration hadn’t fully burned out. “I didn’t ask you to care, Jack. This was my problem to deal with.”

Jack ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly. “Maybe you didn’t ask, but I’m here anyway. Because I want to be. Because you deserve better than him.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, the icy wind biting at your skin. Finally, you sighed, your shoulders slumping.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly, your voice barely audible. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m just…tired of all this.”

Jack’s expression softened, and he stepped closer, his hand brushing your arm lightly. “I get it,” he said gently. “But you don’t have to deal with it alone.”

His words settled over you like a warm blanket, and for the first time that night, the tension in your chest began to ease. You looked up at him, your breath hitching as you met his gaze.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

Jack offered a small smile, his hand lingering on your arm for a moment longer before he pulled back. “Come on,” he said, his voice lightening. “Let’s get back inside before your mum starts sending out search parties.” You laughed softly, nodding as you followed him back toward the house. The warmth of the party enveloped you as you stepped inside, but the real comfort was the steady presence of the man beside you.

As the night wound down, the atmosphere in the house gradually shifted back to the cozy warmth you had hoped for. Tyler had left not long after his confrontation with Jack, throwing a half-hearted goodbye to the room before disappearing out the front door. His absence was a relief, like a storm cloud finally clearing, leaving the air lighter and easier to breathe.

Jack, ever the charmer, stayed grounded and helpful, seamlessly blending into the group. He helped your dad carry a stack of empty trays to the kitchen, indulged your youngest cousin in a surprisingly competitive game of charades, and even won over your aunt with a discussion about her favourite holiday baking show. But no matter how relaxed he seemed, his presence remained tethered to you, as though he was silently letting you know he was there, ready to step in if needed.

The evening began to quiet as guests filtered out, hugs and cheerful goodbyes exchanged at the front door. Your cousins had retreated upstairs to play video games, your parents were tidying up in the kitchen, and the glow of the fireplace bathed the living room in a soft, flickering light.

Jack stood near the mantle, inspecting one of the framed family photos with an amused smile. You watched him for a moment, your heart softening as the warmth of his presence settled over you.

“You’re really good with them, you know,” you said as you approached, your voice breaking the comfortable silence.

He turned to you, tilting his head slightly. “With who?”

“My family,” you said, gesturing vaguely. “I think my aunt is ready to adopt you. And my cousins… I haven’t seen them this hyped about charades in years.”

Jack chuckled, leaning casually against the mantle. “What can I say? I’m a man of many talents.”

You laughed softly, rolling your eyes. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“I’ll try my best,” he said, a teasing smile tugging at his lips.

A comfortable silence fell between you again, the crackle of the fire filling the space. You glanced around the room, the faint scent of pine and cinnamon lingering in the air. Your gaze landed on a small sprig of mistletoe hanging above the archway leading into the foyer.

Jack followed your line of sight, his eyes landing on the mistletoe as well. A soft chuckle escaped him, and he looked back at you with a raised eyebrow. “Really? You’re the one who leaves mistletoe up?”

You shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Blame my mum. She’s the one who insists on the ‘holiday charm.’”

Jack took a slow step forward, closing the small distance between you. His expression softened, the teasing edge giving way to something more sincere. “Holiday charm, huh?” You felt your pulse quicken as he stopped just a step away, the warmth of him radiating in the cool room. The mistletoe loomed above, a quiet reminder of the tradition it carried.

“It’s silly,” you murmured, your voice barely audible.

“Maybe,” Jack said softly, his eyes locked on yours. “But I don’t think I mind.”

His gaze flickered briefly to your lips, and your breath hitched, the world around you fading into the background. The glow of the fire, the faint hum of holiday music from the other room—it all blurred into nothing as Jack leaned in, his movements slow and deliberate, as if giving you a chance to pull away.

You didn’t.

His lips met yours in a kiss that was both gentle and electric, a perfect blend of warmth and tenderness. Your hands found their way to his chest, the soft fabric of his shirt grounding you as the kiss deepened ever so slightly.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested lightly against yours, a small smile curving his lips.

“If you call me your friend one more time I might throw myself off the roof,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. 

You laughed softly, your cheeks flushing as you shook your head. “We’re not friends?.”

“Not even close.” Jack’s grin widened, and he leaned in to press another soft kiss to your lips before pulling back completely.

The sound of your mum’s voice carried from the kitchen, breaking the spell. “Hon, is Jack staying for hot chocolate before he leaves?” You exchanged a glance with Jack, both of you smiling as the moment settled between you like a secret.

“I think I’ve got time for a cup,” Jack said, his voice warm as he took your hand, leading you back toward the living room.

The night had been a whirlwind, full of tension and unexpected twists, but as you sat beside Jack on the couch, sipping hot chocolate and stealing glances at him, you couldn’t help but feel like it had all led to this—something new and quietly wonderful blossoming between you.

[solxamber]

Savannahclaw, 3, fluff

Here and Now || Ruggie Bucchi

For the Holiday Event! || Prompt: "I'll always be here", Genre: Fluff

The clock on the wall blinks 11:30 PM when the door finally creaks open. You look up from your spot on the couch, cozy under a blanket, to see Ruggie dragging himself inside, his steps slow and heavy. His uniform is rumpled, his hair sticking out in random places, and his ever-present grin is nowhere to be found.

"I'm so sorry," he says, voice a mix of guilt and exhaustion. He drops his bag by the door and rubs the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze. "I know I told ya to wait for me, but...ugh, there was so much stuff today. Too many gigs, and then Leona wanted somethin’ done last minute—"

"Ruggie," you interrupt, and he stops rambling to glance up at you hesitantly. "It’s okay."

"Okay?" His ears twitch, and he blinks at you like he can’t believe his own. "You’re not mad?"

You shake your head, offering him a small smile. "I’m not mad. Disappointed, maybe, but not mad. I know how hard you work, Ruggie. I’m not gonna hold it against you."

"But..." He fidgets, wringing his hands. "We didn’t even get to go on our date. You waited all day, and I just—"

"Ruggie," you cut him off again, your tone a little firmer this time. "I’d rather eat instant ramen on the couch with you than go to some fancy place with someone else. You know that, right?"

He stares at you for a moment, his tired expression softening into something warm and vulnerable. "You really mean that?"

"Of course I mean it." You stand and walk over to him, placing your hands gently on his shoulders. "Now, go sit down. I’ll microwave something, and we can call it a five-star dining experience."

He lets out a breathy laugh, his tail swishing behind him. "You’re somethin’ else, y'know that?"

As Ruggie collapses onto the couch, you throw together the most basic meal you can manage with what’s in the fridge—a mishmash of leftovers and a packet of instant noodles.

It’s terrible, barely edible, but when you sit next to him on the couch, eating out of mismatched bowls with plastic forks, it somehow feels perfect.

Ruggie chuckles between bites, his foot nudging yours playfully. "This ain't half bad. Real ‘gremlin cuisine.’"

You snort, almost choking on your food. "We should open a restaurant. Call it The Trash Den."

"Only if you’re the head chef," he says, grinning now, his exhaustion fading bit by bit.

You roll your eyes but can’t stop your own smile. The glow of the TV flickers across the room, the two of you bundled under a shared blanket as you lean into his side. The tension in his shoulders finally eases, and he looks down at you, his expression softer than you’ve ever seen it.

"Thanks for waitin’ for me," he says quietly, his voice filled with more sincerity than usual. "I know I’m not the easiest guy to stick around with, but...I’ll always try to make it worth it. I promise."

You rest your head against his shoulder, closing your eyes. "I’ll always be here, Ruggie. No matter what."

The rest of the night passes in peaceful contentment, your makeshift dinner long forgotten as you drift off against him, the weight of the day replaced with the simple comfort of being together.

Masterlist

[tasteracha]

professor bang

word count: 2.3k

warnings: unprotected sex, power imbalance (grad student x professor), multiple orgasms, chan calling the reader pet/good girl

synopsis: you laid out a perfectly crafted trap to seduce the hot professor - too bad he’s one step ahead of you.

the midday air is unsuspecting as you walk down the creaky hallway, floorboards of the psychology building groaning under your feet. the nerves are close to eating you up whole but you continue walking, too far into your plan to turn back now - you know what you want, and you’re going to get it. no one turns an eye as you walk past open doors, the hem of your dress swishing around your knees. they’re accustomed to seeing you here, being a graduate student in the department means you spend more time here than you do in your own apartment. 

you stop at one door in a series of identical ones, only told apart by a worn out plaque listing a room number and a shinier, newer one reading “christopher bang, ph.d.” underneath it.

the door is cracked just a bit, enough for you to peer inside and there he is, standing in front of his desk, wearing a crisp white shirt under a grayish-blue blazer. his pants are too tight to be suitable for a professor, and they cling to his thighs and stretch across his ass perfectly, making you pause in the doorway with a hungry stare that lasts for too many seconds. 

when you look up you meet his eyes and it makes you jump; you didn’t know that he knew you were there. this doesn’t fit in the plan.

the plan you cooked up when he got a little too cozy with you during the department holiday party last semester. the plan you’ve been making and scrapping and working yourself up to execute, avoiding him at every corner so that he wouldn’t know. you were supposed to surprise him, walk in pretending like you needed help with some assignment, getting closer and closer to him until your breaths were intermingling and then you’d look into his eyes and he would glance at your lips and-

and now he’s caught you checking him out like some kind of creep. 

“oh, hi y/n,” he says, eyes turning crinkly as he looks at you with a shit-eating grin. fuck.  

now that you’ve been found out, you slide inside the gap in the door, shutting it closed behind you and letting the lock click behind your back. if he notices, he doesn’t react, steady eyes trained on you as your feet take you closer and closer to his desk.

“hi professor bang,” you say, surprised by how clear your voice comes out. that’s good, you wouldn’t want him to know how nervous you are just yet, it would add to his smugness and you didn’t know if you could handle his ego being even bigger than it is right now. 

“what can i do for you?” he says, crossing his arms and leaning against the desk. the blazer stretches over his shoulders and the material does nothing to hide his biceps and your mouth waters. he quirks an eyebrow at you when you don’t speak for a moment, and you have to clear your throat before any sound comes out.

“i needed some help with a research project,” you say, moving close enough to him that if anyone were to walk in they would absolutely report the both of you for some kind of ethical violation. good thing you locked the door, then. “i was hoping you could be of service.”

“oh?” he leans further back into the desk, fully relaxed in a way you wish you were. “what kind of project?”

“well, it has to do with human connection,” you trail a finger across the collar of his blazer, further down until it catches on a button, in a show of false confidence. “i was looking to maybe get some hands-on experience? for research, of course.”

you feel a swell of victory when his breath catches in his throat and his arms loosen from where they were crossed to drop at his side. 

“well i certainly am the expert in that domain,” he drawls, eyes flickering down to your lips and back up. “i did write my dissertation on it, after all.”

it’s a lie - you’ve read his dissertation, full of information about cognitive theory and eye movements and other things that honestly went way over your head. not a single mention of human connection was in that document, but the fact that he’s so readily playing along with you means that you didn’t misread anything. either he wants you, or he enjoys toying with you; either way, you were on board.

even more so when he takes his blazer off, throwing it off to the side like it didn’t cost him an aggressive amount of money to buy. you’ve seen the designer labels on him plenty of times enough to know he likes to treat himself to nice things. 

you’re hoping you can be his next nice thing, the next possession that he flaunts and parades around. 

you lean in for a kiss, but he surprises you and flips the both of you around until you’re backed up into the desk. he’s leaning over you, dark eyes looking down at you like you’re his prey. 

“let’s even the playing field a bit, shall we?” his voice has gone down, low and sultry, and you feel your head loll back from how it makes you feel. he makes quick work of removing your dress, letting the material pool to the floor so he could focus on your bra. it’s your favorite one, lacey and red and sexy, the material leaving nothing to the imagination. he takes a second to admire it, fingering at the strap around your shoulder and sliding his thumb into the cup before he reaches behind you and unhooks it in one try. it joins his blazer and your dress on the floor a moment later, and you’re left feeling exposed in front of him. 

“how is this even?” you ask, resisting the urge to cover yourself with your hands. “you’re still wearing all of your clothes.”

“well, sweetheart,” he starts, moving impossibly closer to you. “we’re in my office. that means i get to decide the rules, no?”

he swipes an arm across the table behind you before you can answer. papers flutter in the air, and he’s hiking you up onto the desk before they reach the ground. his hands are under your thighs, spreading them apart so he can fit between them. one of his hands snakes into the band of your underwear, your sensitive skin erupting in goosebumps from his touch.

“so wet,” he says, a smirk painting his face as his fingers part your folds to make slow circles around your clit. it shouldn’t be enough to send shivers up your spine, but it’s him, so it does.

“for you,” you say, looking up at him through your lashes. the amused glint in his eyes turns sharp, dark and possessive. just what you wanted. 

“this is mine?” he asks, cupping you in his hand while his other reaches around the small of your back to hold you close to him.

“yours,” you hum, nodding even though his attention certainly wasn’t on your head.

he dips his fingers inside of you, gliding easily inside from how his fingers are coated with your juices. when he crooks his fingers and thumbs at your clit your head tips back, and you might have lost your balance if he wasn’t holding you so close that you could feel his breath on your skin. 

it’s on your third time stumbling over the word professor that he leans into your ear and tells you to call him chris, his lips kissing your ear as he works you to your high. you’re shaking apart on his desk and yet he doesn’t relent, he continues to move his fingers with fervor until you can’t help but push at his chest to get him to stop. 

“chris,” you stutter out when he latches his lips to your neck, open mouthed and hot as his fingers move to grab at your thighs. his hands are so big, veins bulging as he digs his fingers in. you hope there are bruises there, tomorrow. and the next day. 

“gonna fuck you now, okay?” he says, voice husky. “for research.”

“yeah, research,” you breath out, using both your hands to cradle his face so that you could kiss him, finally. his lips are as soft as you imagined, plushy pillows that you could find yourself lost in for hours. he keeps his lips on yours as he moves your underwear down and off, helping you balance so he could slide it under your thighs until you’re bare in front of him. you’re unbuttoning his shirt with shaky fingers, and he chuckles against you when you can’t get one of them open.

“funny?” you break away from him, eyes trained on the way his lips are red and slick with spit. 

“you’re cute,” condescension lines his voice and a spark of anger runs through you at how he knows he has the upper hand. he gently takes your hands away from his clothes and makes quick work of them himself. in what feels like a split second, he’s stripped of his shirt and pants and he’s pulling down his boxers, revealing smooth planes of muscle and strong thighs and bulging arms that you’ve fantasized about for months. you don’t know if you want to cover them in bites or let him crush you with them more - there will be time for that, the next time. 

you know there’s going to be a next time if it’s already this good and he’s barely even done anything to you yet. 

he spreads your thighs apart further, and you don’t miss how he licks his lips at the view of your dripping cunt in front of him before he lines himself up at your entrance. you barely got a glimpse of his cock, but your mouth waters at the idea of it being inside of you. he glides his cock through your folds a few time, slicking himself up before pressing his head inside of you. 

when he bottoms out you can’t help but tighten your walls around him, helpless to the desires of your own body, and the groan he lets out makes you clench down even harder. 

“relax, pet,” he says, panting a bit. his thumb strokes at the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh. “i’m going to take good care of you okay? but you need to relax for me.”

he leans down to kiss you again, and it must be a good enough distraction because he begins moving in time with the swipes of his tongue on your teeth. every time he rocks into you the air punches out of your lungs, you’re so full. he moves his face to the crook of your neck to hide his own labored breaths when he increases his pace, thrusting into you faster than you can keep up with. 

he’s pressing you into the desk with each movement of his hips, the sharp corner against your legs sending pricks of pain up to your head. the game is over, the research bit is done, now it’s just chris taking what he wants from you. you love it. his arms wrap around you, keeping you upright, and you latch onto him like a lifeline. you’re completely at his mercy, entirely submissive to the way he’s keeping you still so he can use you. 

you can tell he’s close when he pushes his head even further into your skin, fingers gripping your back and his movements becoming sharp and purposeful. he spills into you a second later with a bite to your neck, and you can’t help yourself from following him as your head tips back in pleasure. 

when he pulls out you wince, the emptiness that he’s left you with feeling worse than you’ve ever felt with anyone else. he lowers you onto the desk slowly, letting your head rest on his mousepad as he runs his hands up and down your sides in comforting sweeps. you’re utterly spent, two orgasms hitting your limit, even more intense coming from him. 

“one more,” he drawls out, not showing compassion at all for the way you’re panting and drooling onto his desk. “you can do one more for me, can’t you?”

“no, no, no,” your voice comes out thready and light, barely a sound. his hand returns to your core either way, slow circles of his fingers around your clit making your body twitch with each pass. the oversensitivity is too much, but you’re too weak to pull away from him. you don’t even know if you want to, anymore. 

“there’s my good girl,” he grins when you whine and rut down onto his hand. you didn’t know it was possible, but the coils in your lower belly start to tighten faster than before. you’re coming before you even realize it’s happening, pleasure seeping from your core to your fingertips, an all encompassing sensation that you can’t put words to. it lasts for what feels like forever, waves and waves of ecstasy rocking through your body until your vision blacks out for a moment. 

“you did so good,” he finally stops and you press your legs together to stop him from returning. he’s pressing kisses to your body, your thighs and your stomach up to your neck and cheeks as he mumbles praises into your skin. his hand runs through your hair, pushing the sweaty locks that were stuck to your forehead out of the way so he could press a final, sweet kiss to your forehead. “so good for me. so pretty, my precious pet.”

and even as he takes care of you, cleans you up and helps you back into your clothes and feeds you water, you’re holding back a smirk. because he thinks he has the upper hand, he thinks he won, but you can guarantee that he’ll be knocking at your door before the week is over.

[filmbyjy]

BLACK PANTHER NI-KI (2)

SUMMARY: ni-ki wasn’t acting the way you thought he would, he seemed more…cuddly? less mysterious. you never expected him to act this way but you kinda like this. he was adorable.

WORD COUNT: 1.4K words

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

a/n: ohohoho i know you guys missed this series. well, everyone was having a very overwhelming response to ni-ki’s one and i am so thankful for that. i really enjoy writing ni-ki’s one. he’s too cute and since the baby says he’s a puma then he is a puma but for this he is still a cool black panther. not a duck, even though he is one

on the previous episode of ‘Black Panther Ni-Ki’,

there is no way he turned into his human form. your mouth was wide opened.

“(name).” he says.

even his voice was deep. this is just the start of living together, how would you survive?

— and now we continue…

“ni-ki, you’re-”

he shyly looks away, “the clothes is a bit small for me.”

”oh, we can go shopping for some clothes for you.” you quickly went to open the gate. “how about we go to the mall now before i bring you home?”

he shakes his head, black tail swishing downwards. which meant, he didn’t like the thought of it. “i want to go home, our home.”

you blushed. “s-sure.” you cleared your throat and start to walk a little. “let’s go.” ni-ki jogs slightly to catch up with you.

the other workers were in shock to see ni-ki in his human form. in fact, they were even more in shock to see him sticking so close to you.

“(name), is that who i think it is?” one of your co-workers say. ni-ki growled lowly, it scares your co-worker.

“yes, it is. I'm sorry he's acting this way. he's just a little hungry.” you made up an excuse, knowing it was almost his dinner time. your co-worker’s eyes widened, they knew how feisty ni-ki got when he didn’t get to eat on time.

“oh, go ahead. it’s bad if he doesn’t get to eat.” you nod at your co-worker’s words and excused yourself to clock out of your shift.

once that was done, you start to walk out of the shop and towards the direction of your home. ni-ki followed, there wasn’t any words exchanged between the both of you but yet, in a way it was comforting. you had made it to your apartment building, it wasn’t exactly the nicest place but it did the job for you since you were only 19.

“welcome to my home, it’s kinda small but i tried to make it cozy.” you had pointed to the bedroom, “that’s the only room i have and it’s my bedroom. umm, maybe we can last here for a bit until i get a promotion for my job. how about you can take my bed and i’ll sleep on the couch.”

ni-ki shakes his head, he clings onto you as his tail wraps around your calf. “let’s sleep in bed together. it’s lonely to sleep alone.” he buries his head at the crook of your neck and starts to rub his head against the spot. his black panther ears twitching a little as it touches the fabric of your shirt.

this was definitely shocking to you because you’ve never seen him act like this. small purrs were heard as he gets more comfortable with you. you had rubbed his back. “okay, we can share a bed together.” you had declared. however, you weren’t too sure if you could even survive being in the same bed as the big cat. he may be a cat but he is still part human, you’ve never done such intimate things with someone of the opposite gender.

“i’m hungry.” he says. he looks up at you and you had noticed his hair was a little messy due to rubbing against you. you had reached up and smoothen it out but he was still a little too tall. instead of having you tiptoe, he bent down slightly for you. he purrs slightly, shivering as you were smoothening out his hair.

“what do you want to eat?” you had asked. the boy sighs out of content, his eyes were shut.

“i’m okay with anything.”

you had stopped touching his hair and retracted your hand. he frowns a little, moving closer and hiding his face at the crook of your neck. “i don’t have much at home, mmm. how about jajangmyeon?”

he nods but doesn’t move. “ni-ki, I have to make food.”

he lets out a soft growl, slightly threatening but not enough to scare you. “can we cuddle? I dont feel like moving around too much.”

“cuddling is for mated couples though…” you whisper quietly but ni-ki seems to have heard. he huffs and doesn't move.

“then we can become a couple.” he states.

your eyes widened. “what?” ni-ki still doesn't move from the crook of your neck.

“i-i like you. ever since you had started work at the shelter. I had seen you and you looked pretty.” his black panther ears twitches.

“oh, ni-ki…that's too cute.” you had hold up at arms length to look at his face. he was blushing, couldn't even stare at you properly.

his black tail swishes from left to right, clearly showing how embarrassed he was. you had scratched one particular spot that ni-ki really loves and he starts purring. he didn’t shy away from it. his tail wrapping around your calf.

“we should eat first. let’s talk about this later, hmm?” you cooed as he his purring gets louder. he was enjoying the attention.

and so, you went to the kitchen to make jajangmyeon for the both of you. ni-ki looks at the food, his stomach growling as he smells the strong scent. his little tooth pokes out. “enjoy your food.” you say. ni-ki digs in and finishes it within minutes. he really enjoyed it. however, you had to remember. he was not a normal house cat, which meant he had to eat more.

“i need more food.” he huffs. alright. you really have to remind yourself that you had a big cat in the house. note to self: buy more food during grocery week.

”oh, i have some milk. maybe that might fill your hunger a little.” you poured him a glass and he happily drinks it. just like a hungry kitten. he wipes his mouth and looked super satisfied after drinking the glass of milk.

“can we cuddle now?” ni-ki says. his ears perked up and his black tail swishes.

“oh, umm. sure.” with that permission, ni-ki grabs your hand and pulls you to your bedroom. you could feel your face heat up.

you had laid in bed with him. it felt awkward because honestly, what were you supposed to do it in this situation? a cute hybrid boy, who confessed to you like an hour ago that he liked you and wanted to cuddle with you.

“did you remember when you first joined the team, everyone warned you about me?” ni-ki voices out.

you hummed, “i found their words very mean. i was sure you were misunderstood.”

“when i was first brought into this world. my mom, she didn’t understand anything as she was young herself. well, in cat years. she was young and afraid. she had nobody to care for her as she was a stray panther hybrid. people took advantage of her and she was too kind for this world. they ended up hurting her a lot and experimenting on her. her body couldn’t handle these experiments and she…she was gone. i was only a pup and so it scared me a lot.” ni-ki carefully tells you his story.

“they couldn’t experiment on me as i was still a baby so they just waited and waited until i grew older. i somehow managed to escape and some people found me before putting me in the adoption centre for hybrids. i closed myself off, i was afraid that the people that adopted me would hurt me. then, when you came…i had a sense that you wouldn’t hurt me. something about you was attracting me, it made me curious. which is why, i spent 2-3 years trying to gain trust on you to see if you’d be the best person to take care of me.”

ni-ki turns to face you, “i’m honestly scared that you might leave me. i don’t have anyone else.”

you had cupped his face and he leans into the touch, “don’t worry. i won’t leave you. i’ll be by your side. as your owner and…as your partner.” he closes his eyes in content. “i’ll accompany you to the trainings too. you need to get used to being a human and also be careful around everyone.”

“okay, i’ll go for those trainings as long as you’re there.”

“i will. you don’t have to worry about a thing.”

with that, ni-ki brings you close and he wraps his arms around you. he falls asleep and so do you. the both of you slept peacefully in each others arms, it was a safe space for the both of you and ni-ki wouldn’t have it any other way.

taglist[open]: @nyfwyeonjun @luvkait @hello-stranger24 @cowsidfk @tzuyusluv @beans-and-jeanes @andromedawillburryyou @belovedxiao @thefangirloncrack @annoyingbitch83 @jswnnie @byu @rosabella1009 @jihoon-is-my-angel @stinkoscope @60astrophile27 @ira-sumi @whoiss4m @enhypen-scholarship @enhapocketz @sweetjaemss @hees-gf-ela @haerinism @llyunall @bekiss-world @Haze-hh @mitchikeli @ajayke-reads @yanagisprettygf @certified-niki-lover @darlingz99 @hanjisunginc @jnnyy @cypherxmyg @sovlidago @brityoo @yizhoutv @laurradoesloveu @iamliacamila @hongjoongsbowlcut @nanabbg @laurradoesloveu @sofiasber @yunjinhuhjennifer @jeulan @mylettterstoyou

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[ratsummer]

Something I've been thinking about is cozy, fleecy ghoul hammocks... You know, like the ones for ferrets??

They're strung up in various parts of the abbey, like the library, sunny corridors, and the ghoul dens. All ghouls are welcome to use them: some are hanging high up in the rafters for nimble air ghouls, others are under skylights for quint ghouls to stargaze. Generally, water and earth ghouls are only tempted in by promises of cuddles from other types of ghouls, as they're more inclined to keeping their feet on the ground.

All this to say, I think Dew LOVES to be up in a hammock. He liked it fine when he was a water ghoul - he'd clamber up with Ifrit or Zephyr, rocking them gently by letting his tail drape over the side and swishing it about. But now that he's fire, he simply can't get enough hammock time.

His favorite hammock is in a quiet, south corridor, strung up high in front of two-story windows. It's not as lofted as the ones the air ghouls favor, but high enough that most of the larger ghouls don't bother with it - perfect for when he needs to hide away. This particular hammock is almost sleeping bag style, with soft, fleecy pockets he can tuck himself into. He's stashed a couple pillows and multiple soft blankets up there too, just for extra coziness.

When Phantom comes along, shy and touch-starved, Dew can't help but immediately introduce him to his favorite hammock. At first, he lets Phantom hide away there by himself when he needs some quiet time to adjust, or when he needs to feel wrapped up and safe with pack smell but he's a little too overstimulated for ghoul cuddles. But before long, Phantom is dragging Dew up for hammock cuddles almost daily.

Poor Swiss has on many occasions gone looking for his sweet little bug, hoping for a cuddle, only to discover he's been secreted away to Dew's hammock - soft purrs and tails poking out the only things giving them away from floor-level. He can't get in there with them: it's a little too awkward of an angle for him to get in without feeling like he's going to plummet to his untimely death, and it also can't support all three of them without ripping off the wall.

Once, Swiss was feeling particularly bummed that they were up there without him - he was feeling needy for his little ghouls, and they'd been up there for hours. Admittedly, he was feeling a little vindictive, so he climbed up the little access ladder to shake them around a bit and whine. Once he got up there though... Well, it was hard to snap a picture with the way his heart was melting, but it's now pinned up on the wall over his nest.

It was hard to see where one ghoul ended and the other began, the way they were pretzeled around each other, dead to the world. Dew was stretched and contorted so that more than half of his limbs stuck out over the sides of the hammock. His hair was loose, tangled up around his horns instead of neatly braided down his back, and his clothes were tangled and bunched up in a way that simply couldn't be comfortable.

Phantom was koalaed around Dew's middle, half underneath him, but somehow wormed around to have his head pressed dead-center on Dew's chest. Their sweet bug is happiest sleeping when he can have an ear pressed over someone's heart, the steady beat and purrs soothing him all the way through.

Dew doesn't really sweat much anymore unless he's actively running around wreaking havoc... but poor Phantom was drenched. He looked like a toddling kit gone down for a hard nap - his hairline was damp and shining, hair curling up where it wasn't plastered to his skin. His cheek was mushed hard against Dew's shirt - when he got up he'd have crease and wrinkle marks impressed on his face for hours. He also had his mouth hanging wide open, a puddle of drool steadily soaking into Dew's shirt.

Swiss couldn't help but purr and stare fondly at them for a few minutes. When Phantom's brow started to scrunch up like it does when he's having a nightmare, Swiss started gently, gently rocking the hammock to soothe him. Almost instantly, the little ghoul's face was smooth and peaceful once more, hands clutching at Dew's waist and squeezing him tighter as he snuggled down. Dew made little grunting sounds as he wiggled too, scooching and squirming until he got Phantom tucked up under his chin.

Accepting that he'd just have to wait until after dinner to get Dew and Phantom snuggles, Swiss sighed and skulked back toward the ghoul den. Maybe he could snatch up Rory for some little ghoul snugs...

Anyway... yeah... ghoul hammocks <3 <3 <3 Thoughts??

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Negan stopped in his tracks as a sharp swish cut the air in front of him. He looked down at a knife stuck in the soil just off the toe of his left boot. But instead of reaching for his own weapon he smiled and waited just a moment...

You landed on your feet in front of him with a soft sound, dropping down from above, and quickly retrieved your knife from the ground, giving him a stern look. He only smiled more widely.

"What are you doing here, idiot?" you asked lazily, your voice flinty. "Didn't I tell you specifically not to come back here again?" You stowed your knife in the sheath on your thigh.

Negan only let out a low laugh. "I like the whole 'serial killer in the woods' vibe you've got going on now, doll. It really suits you," he quipped.

You crossed your arms. "What are you doing here, Negan?"

He slipped his hands into his pockets and shrugged. "Did you really expect me to listen when you told me not to come back? Come on. I thought you knew me at least a little bit by now."

"I hate to admit it, but that's a fair argument. You still haven't told me why."

"Ah, come on. You were the most interesting thing about that place. Now that you left, what the hell am I doing hanging around there?"

You ignored his flirtation and fiddled with your gear. "Is everyone back home okay? Jude? RJ?"

Negan nodded. "As okay as they can be having two parents that aren't around anymore... But hey—kids are resilient."

A silence stretched for a moment before Negan broke it, his hazel eyes drinking in the sight of you and your wild hair and steely gaze. "Well, I know this shit is routine for you but I've been hiking in here all day, and I'm fucking famished so what do you say to a dinner date?"

Your eyes narrowed. "If by 'dinner date' you mean eating food in the same general vicinity... fine. It's going to be dark soon anyway. No way you're making it back to Alexandria tonight. You'll have to stay until morning."

"Fuck me, I did time this perfectly. I made sure to walk real slow," he joked. "Please tell me it's a one room cabin with just the one bed!" He held up his crossed fingers and grinned at you.

You couldn't completely suppress the half-smile... "Yeah, there's just the one bed; mine. You can take the couch or the floor. Your choice."

"You're really gonna do that to me, dollface? Come on, I risked myself out here all day—"

"—after you ignored me when I told you never to come back!"

"Well, yeah, but—as I said before, I can't be expected to listen to that shit!" he shot back, falling into step beside you. "I guess I'll just have to hope for a freak snowstorm so we need to cozy up to conserve body heat." And there it was again, that damn half-smile that made him weak at the knees.

"In August?" you asked, amused.

"A man can dream," he said.

You rolled your eyes at him, but the smile was still on your face. "Keep dreaming. But I'll at least feed you a meal."

"Dinner date, you mean," he corrected you.

"Sure. Whatever you say, Negan." "That's better. Let's keep that going."

Prompt: "I like the whole 'serial killer in the woods' vibe you've got going on now. It really suits you."

[justalittleficsideblog]

Your fics of the obey me boys protecting mc from a creep are so amazing!!

If it's okay, could you write a similar one for Barb and Sol please?<3

anon I see you’ve been sitting in my inbox for a millennia, but I feel like I’ve finally now can write this fic! Barbatos in my mind is a bit unhinged, so like TW for those undertones! This went on longer than I intended, I hope you enjoy !

Barbatos

I could see this happening in the later hours of a ball that his king decided to host, caught unawares with a human he decided to invite had inevitably gotten lost in his crowd.

Considering that your usual guard dogs were preoccupied with their official business, Barbatos took it upon himself to keep a keen eye on you as you made your introductions.

Some of the demons lingered longer than necessary, but the majority quickly moved on due to the presence of the brothers all together somewhere in the room. Despite that, one particular demon cozied up to you a bit more than he found himself caring for.

“That’s very flattering thank you, but I think I’ve had plenty this evening,” you waved your hand towards the demon, gesturing politely in refusal of his offer to a drink.

You weren’t stupid, taking drinks from strangers in the human world was hardly safe, the devildom was no exception.

The demons mouth curved down slightly on the side, but he quickly recovered as he sauntered closer to you. Your back now against the pillar, your eyes scanned the crowd for an escape.

“Those brothers must be boring such a thing like you.” An elongated finger dragged lazily along your temple as he pushed a stray hair out of your face.

“The brothers are wonderful, now if you’d excuse me—“ you grimaced as the demon side stepped your attempt to skirt around him. Now pushed farther back, your irritation was plain across your face.

“C’mon. Hear me out here—“

“I do believe the lady has kindly rejected you multiple times.”

The snarl startled you, a familiar back facing you as Barbatos stepped in between you and the demon. He held a serving tray in his arm, the other arm was across his chest as he politely angled his body towards the male in front of him.

His tail gently urged you to his left, its length curling protectively around your frame.

The formerly mentioned demon scoffed, clearly irritated about the kings servent interrupting him.

“Listen Barbatos,” the demon grabbed a wad of somthing from his lined pocket, placing it discreetly in his hand. “Look the other way with the kings pet, and keep this between us.”

The chill that descended the ballroom was near paralyzing.

You didn’t dare breathe.

“Out of respect for Diavolo,” Barbatos spat, rising to his full height, his back shifting into a lethal calm. “I will not cause a scene because of this disgusting conversation. You must be unwell, considering your intellect is so skewed that you believed I could be bought out for such an act.”

The demon tensed, his foot sliding back slightly.

You’d never seen Barbatos so eerily calm. He could be unnerving in his role, but the aura he was giving off was that of a predator.

“Lord Diavolo will see to you later,” a swish of his wrist and the demon was transported instantly.

The rush and noise of the crowd and music came back immediately, and Barbatos turned to face you, bowing deeply.

“Are you harmed?”

“Uh… no. No not at all, thank you Barbatos.” Your hand reached out to take his out and make him rise.

You were at a loss for words, the lethality you had felt from him was gone, replaced with a relaxed atmosphere.

This guy gave you whiplash.

Extending his arm, he offered, “Come. Let’s get some fresh air.”

All you could do was nod.

Solomon

Honestly, the reason that you hadn’t encountered any suspicious demons was because this wizard watched you very closely. When he determined the brothers were around, he tended to let off.

But, anytime you were without one of them and he was around, he tended to ward off many a demon (he may had cast a sort of mirage around you if any ill-intended demons looked to long).

Deciding to have a bit of fun without the brothers, you had begged him to check out a new club scene that had opened up. All the students were talking about it! I’ll go anyway even if you aren’t with me!

Leaving you unprotected wasn’t an option, but he decided to play coy and tag along.

Solomon immediately disliked the air of the nightclub. The thick haze and skewed magic surrounding it instantly made him on edge. Seeing you so excited to be there, seeking out some friends from class, made him bite his tongue.

The crowd itself made him uneasy, some demons lingering looks made him grind his teeth as he steered you towards a booth to get a break.

“This place is kind of… dense.” He ground out.

“I think this’ll be fun! Oh! Let me go to the bathroom quick, one of the girls from our sorcery course needs some help fixing her look.”

You skirted off quickly. Solomon reassured himself it was fine, you had a trace of his magic he could track. He reached out to feel the tug, only—

There was nothing there.

————-

Having fixed up your friends hair, you made your way back to Solomon. Unfortunately you were intercepted, a large demon glancing down at you with wide eyes.

“So you’re the human they’ve been talking about.”

You attempted to move around him, huffing when the press of bodies halted you from doing so.

This demon was clearly intoxicated, his uneven gate and slight sway told you that much.

A grip on your arm made you flinch, moving quickly to detach the large hand from your bicep.

“Let me go, man.”

The demon flung his arms up in surrender. “Are you here by yourself? You know, this place is full of creatures that would—“

“I’m with my friends, now if you’ll excuse me.” You shouldered your way past him, ignoring his intimidating height. You looked around for the booth that Solomon and you were at previously.

Your heart thundered, where the hell was it?

“Are you a bit lost?” A grin split across his face as he leaned down, the smell of demonous reaching your nostrils. “I could help you find your friends…”

The look in his eyes told you something entirely different. Panic began to work its way up your chest and the noise and flickering lights made it hard to see against the crowd.

Suddenly, a heavy arm wrapped around your shoulders. Jolting from the contact, you looked up to see Solomon, staring down the demon in front of you.

“I do hope that you weren’t giving my human any trouble here.”

Realizing who was in front of him, the demon blanched, leaning back into a few others that were crowded behind him.

“N-not at all man, just trying to help them out is all.” He waved his claws in front of his face, eager to turn and part the crowd as he made his exit.

Satisfied, Solomon looked to you.

“What happened to that bracelet you always wear?”

Furrowing your brows you spoke. “What are you talking about? It’s right here—“

You grabbed your empty wrist in alarm. Shit! You must’ve undone it when you were helping your friend.

“It’s probably in the bathroom, here, let me go grab it quick!”

Solomon grabbed your shoulder and spun you in close to him.

“Forget the bracelet.”

“But that was a gift! I’m sure it was expensive.”

You saw his jaw tick. “I’ll get you another, you’re not leaving my sight after that.”

Clasping your hand in his, he made his way to the exit.

“How do you feel about takeout?”

A smile burst across your face.

“As long as you’re the one paying.”

Solomon laughed, grasping your hand a bit tighter.

[starhvney]

𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝟑 | 𝟏𝟔: 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃

𝐂𝐖: um... more violence and mentions of traumatic injuries, cussing but like how offensive is that in comparison to the other stuff at this point

𝐀/𝐍: oh snap it’s going down (intense traumatic experiences)

𝐖𝐂: 4,600+

𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐑: the one, the onlyyyy @arienic !!! *blows airhorn*

𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 ☆ 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 | 𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒

laughter carries through the air, the mix of everyone’s joyous voices in the room warming your chest the same way your hot chocolate warmed your hands. you settle back into the ro'meaves’ couch, the worn-in material allowing you to sink into the cushions where you were lodged between lucinda and dante. 

“okay!” aphmau squeals, clapping her hands excitedly in the center of the room. “it’s time to exchange the secret santa gifts!”

you’re perfectly content where you sit, though, with a soft smile on your face as you glance around the room. everyone was bundled up in their sweaters and cozy pajamas, excitedly getting up to give and receive their gifts and giggling as they bumped into each other. oh, you suppose you should get up when lucinda’s hand grasps onto your arm to help you along with her, the mature scent of her perfume wafting along your face and the tinkling of her bracelets pleasantly gracing your ears.

“c’mon, sweetie. you can’t fall asleep now,” she coos playfully.

“i wasn’t! just enjoying the moment,” you defend, only earning a teasing look from her in response before she prances off with an amused huff.

you shake your head, chuckling quietly to yourself as you pick up vylad’s gift, shuffling around the crowd and earning a hair ruffle from dante and a nose pinch from teony as you go, the two of them being the touchiest of your friends as always. not that you minded—coming from anyone in this room. you kind of enjoyed that you were close enough to them for them to want to casually reach out to you in a sudden burst of affection. it was cute.

vylad immediately turns to look down at you with a dimpled grin as you hold out your gift, giving you a grateful nod. “hey! merry christmas.”

“merry christmas,” you return, shuffling on your feet as he starts to open his gift, starting to feel a bit nervous if he’d like it.

his face lights up as he opens the box, mouth cracking open in surprise as he reaches in, pulling out the 35mm camera film bundle you got. “woah, there’s so much! and a calligraphy set too?”

“yeah… sorry i didn’t get as much film because it can get kind of expensive… but i thought i’d get you something you’d use the most.”

“no, no, don’t apologize. this is perfect!” he insists, his voice full of genuine thankfulness. “how did you even know i liked all of this? or what kind of camera i had?”

“i totally interrogated your mom about what kind of camera you had. shout out to zianna,” you laugh. “i remember you talking about liking photography and how you liked to write, so…”

“wow. i’m not secretive but i didn’t realize i was that easy to read,” he muses, wrapping an arm around your shoulder for a hug. “you really put a lot of thought and effort into this, i can tell. this is so awesome.”

“aw, i’m really glad you liked it.” you sheepishly return the hug before stepping back again.

“i more than like it, i love it. thanks!”

a gentle tap on your shoulder diverts your attention from the heartfelt scene you were in. nana gives you a sweet smile when you turn to her, her eyes forming into crescents as she presents a rather large pink gift bag with a cute snowman on it.

“hi! i was your secret santa,” she giggles as if it weren’t obvious.

“oh! thank you, nana.” you smile, taking the bag from her as she bounces expectantly on her toes.

“go ahead and open it!” she ushers, tail swishing behind her, the tiny jingle bell on the bow she used to decorate it tinkling.

you laugh lightly as you appease her demands, pulling out the tissue paper to reveal quite an array of gifts.

“so, i remember you mentioning you thought the cookie cutters i had were super cute when we were making those sweets for everyone… so i got you some! and—and those are some earrings that reminded me of you, and—oh! that’s a blanket with kitties on it,” she rambles, pointing out each thing with a shimmer in her eyes. “that’s a cute journal i got for you because we had talked about how you wanted to start writing down your favorite memories so you never forgot them. remember?”

“wow, nana. you didn’t have to get all this for me…” you murmur, mouth agape as you admire the hardcover journal in your favorite color, its pages glinting gold around the edge.

“of course i did! you were one of the first people to actually care about me and try to become my friend at the school.” she rocks on her heels, hands folding behind her back. “you mean a lot to me, so i wanted your gift to be special.”

pulling in a big breath, you swallow thickly, overwhelmed by the affection poured onto you. your friends’ laughter buzzes in your ears as you reel in the moment, eyes wide. “thank you, so much… you mean a lot to me, too.”

“but, um…” she murmurs your name, face turning gravely serious. “i have to tell you something.”

strange. this isn’t how you remember this going.

“if you want to come back to us, you have to wake up.”

“…what?”

“wake up.”

a sharp inhale through your lungs pulls a veil of darkness over your eyes, replaced by a gray ceiling. there’s no warm laughter, no welcoming fireplace; just the cold, damp room you’ve been forced into for who knows how long now. your fingers dance across the thin sheets, chasing after the ghost of warm hands encasing yours, only to be met with the scratchy material irritating your skin.

your neck hurts; externally as you reach up to feel a crusted-over bandage, and internally as a lump forms inside. vision blurs and fingers tremble as a pathetic sob wracks your chest, the choked noise of pain echoing in the empty room. turning on your side, you gasp for air, your breaths tight and panicked. you can move again, you realize, but when you attempt to sit up and stand your body gives out on you and sends you sprawling onto the hard tile floor. using what little strength you have, you use your arms to drag yourself to the bars of your cell, grasping the bars and resting your cheek on the rusted metal.

tears pour down your face while your chest heaves unevenly, soaking into the gauze on your neck and staining your dirtied clothes. weakly, you lift your hand again, realizing through your hazy eyes how thin and pale you’d gotten. you’d been fully drained, your body pulling whatever it could from your muscles and bones just to keep your heart beating. more cries leave your lips as you reach up to your neck once again, tugging at its tight constraints with an angry cry. as it loosens with an uncomfortable crack from your skin a wave of fear washes over you, freezing you in place.

what if your head fell?

short breaths are sucked in through your mouth as you try not to move, slowly loosening the bandages again until they finally give free, unraveling onto your lap. you stay still for a few moments, staring at the dark red below you, before reaching up to feel where the blade had been lined against your neck. there it is: an indent, perfectly horizontal, reaching across where your jugular was.

she must not have completely beheaded you. if she did, would you not have woken up?

a feeling of utter hopelessness creeps into your veins starting from your hands and feet until it spills out in the form of more tears, a piteous weep leaving your lips. none of this makes sense to you. not the pain… not anything she said about your parents… or the man… or men behind it…? she mentioned two, didn’t she? no, no that’s not what she said…

not what she said about…

not what she said…

no.

what exactly did she tell you?

why can’t you remember it?!

there was something important! information you had to keep if you got out of here! what is it?!

“what happened…” you hiccup, lungs catching and stopping, breaths hiccuping. “what did you…”

your fingers dig into the metal, pressing uncomfortably into your bones as you manage some strength in your lungs and scream at him, “what did you do to me?!”

the muscles in your throat strain in protest, cracking your words as they echo in the empty corridor. raspy coughs leave your throat as your remaining strength gives out and you go limp where you sit. it’s a few minutes like this—maybe even an hour—before quiet footsteps slowly make their way toward your cell. you don’t bother looking up, only acknowledging who it is when someone kneels down by the door. black jeans, a dark blue shirt… it matches his hair.

he watches you from the side of his eye as he sets down a tray, sliding it under the door. when he moves to get up again, he hesitates, as if there's something he needs to say.

“please kill me,” you rasp, making him jump as he whips his head over to you, his eyes darting down to your fingers where they grasp onto his wrist. “just kill me. i can’t do it again.”

he gives you a look, eyes widening and lip curling. you can’t tell what it is. pity? disgust?

this is the first time you've really looked at him up close. a few scars litter his skin, his steel gray eyes startlingly harsh through his dark lashes. his nostrils flare as he pulls away from your touch, standing and backing away as he looks down on your miserable slumped form.

“i can’t,” he mutters. “but… i wouldn’t bite into your food too hard.”

you stare up at him, confusion muddling your features.

“and wait until dusk. that’s two hours from now.”

he turns on his heel and stalks away, glancing back at you once more over his back before quickly running back up the wooden staircase, leaving you alone as fast as he had appeared.

don’t bite into your food too hard.

the tray is by your feet, nothing but a pile of mush on it. you’re not sure what kind of food it’s supposed to be, but it most definitely wasn’t crunchy or solid. shakily, you reach out to the tray and pull it into your lap, hesitantly hovering your fingers over it.

what are you doing…

wriggling your fingers down into the semi-warm substance, they soon meet the cold center where a metal object is buried inside. your eyebrows pinch together when you pull it out, shaking the food away to reveal a… key. did he just…?

he gave you the key to the cell. he’s helping you escape.

two hours from now.

“thank you,” you whisper to the void, even if you know the boy is long gone.

would he be punished for this? a part of you worries for him, but the selfish want for self-preservation has those thoughts pushed to the back of your mind, replaced by the memory of warm arms around your shoulders. you had to get back. this wasn’t the end. you didn’t have to die here. a joyful weep wobbles from your lips, as you begin to count the seconds. how many are in two hours?

one mississippi… two mississippi…three…

eight hundred and thirty-three…

five thousand six hundred and twenty-seven…

seven thousand two hundred.

you had eaten the plate of food to the best of your abilities, despite its bland taste and rather disgusting texture. it was like southern grits, but if it were slimy and void of any good flavor. still, you stomached it, and it at least gave you the strength to stand up on your legs without falling. your breathing was labored from the effort, but you had to do this, and you had to do it now.

nimbly sliding your fingers through the door’s bars, you fix the key into the lock and twist, a satisfying click meeting your ears as the door gives way to your weight leaning on it. it squeaks in the silent hallway, and for a moment you stand completely still as it swings all the way open. 

you were free.

run. run run run run run run!

you take off towards the wooden stairs, careful to keep on your tiptoes, sliding your feet across the stone to make less noise as you go. slowing down at the wooden stairs, you’re careful to make a minimal amount of creaks as you ascend them, holding your breath as you listen closely to the floor above. there’s no talking, no shuffling or movement. did they go somewhere else?

at the top of the stairs, there's a wooden door. quiet prayers for it to be unlocked leave your lips as you approach it, and you have to stop yourself from letting out a cry of relief when it is, opening up to a dimly lit, huge room. 

you were in a log cabin, though a mansion seems more suitable as a title. tall windows span up to the ceiling on one wall, overlooking a familiar scene of a forest. plush couches and red carpets littered the large space, setting up what was an over-the-top lounge room.

tentatively, you walk out from the doorway, looking up to realize it was somewhat hidden behind a staircase. the place seemed empty, but you sure weren’t going to stick around to find out. the only thing you can hear is your uneven breaths as you make your way to two large red doors, hands shaking as you push the heavy wood open. the sound of crickets beginning to chirp and fresh air enveloping your face is overwhelming, making your shaky steps stutter in place as you stare out at the tall trees ahead.

looking around, the coast is still clear. was what ein told you a red herring? this seemed too easy. running out to the empty driveway, you step beyond the pavement toward a nearby cliffside, looking over the forest beyond. there was nothing else in sight for miles, except for…

a tall lookout tower in the distance.

your face blanches, and the small amount of nutrients you had in your stomach comes rushing back up your throat in an instant. they were that close to you the whole time.

sputtered coughs leave your lips as you lean forward, hands resting on your knees while black spots your vision. what if they were just letting you go now? have you never been in control this whole time? not since the moment you moved? since the moment you were born? is there any point in escaping this?

there’s no time to delay anymore though, not when you’re taking off again towards the driveway, cutting into the treeline where you’re sure the road led off to. your lungs burn as they try to keep up with your legs, your throat barely taking in enough oxygen for you to stay conscious. you feel like you’re out of your body, merely spectating a memory as you weave through trees. your face feels cold and numb, and you vaguely feel the pain of your bare feet getting scraped and stabbed by the forest floor. black is beginning to spot your vision and the next moment your toe catches on a root, sending you tumbling down a steep hill with a sudden cry.

rolling to a stop, you gasp for air, yet none comes as panic continues to riddle your lungs.

“...you mean a lot to me…”

it feels like warm hands are lifting you, urging you to keep going, and as you stumble forward you realize you’ve made it to the road. warm asphalt meets your feet as you continue to try and catch your breath. the sun had set by now, disorienting any sense of direction you may have had in the first place.

as soon as your vision clears, you’re blinded by headlights and the screeching of rubber against the road—

you're sent flying, your hands painfully scraping as you land on your back. it feels like you’re dying, lungs on the verge of collapsing. even if it was your captors, you don’t think you could run or even crawl away, the stars in the sky beginning to spin and melt above you and the noise of the world around you turning into warbled echoes.

“oh my… is that… missing… girl that… gene… with.” a woman appears above you. you can’t make out her features. “holy shit… logan! call… help! …hospital…!”

“help,” you gasp. in a last attempt at freedom, you grasp onto her shirt.

“shh… you’re… okay, hun… safe…”

a tall man looming over the both of you is the last thing you see. strong arms lift you from the jagged ground; the bitter, metallic scent of your blood is the last thing you sense before the terrifying freedom of darkness overtakes you.

☆

over a week. it’s almost been two.

garroth stares blankly at the empty fireplace, stuck in the same position he’d sat in hours ago. he chews at the inside of his cheek again, wincing when he draws blood this time. 

there's no telling where you are now or what’s happened to you. and it's all his fault. if he’d just walked with you down the sidewalk. it was two houses down. only two. that careless decision took you from him and everyone else who cared about you.

when you come back… if you do… he wouldn’t blame you if you hated him. if you never wanted to talk to him again, or even look at him. he deserved your resentfulness. he wouldn’t even mind it if it just meant you were back safe.

“hello?” zianna’s voice carries from the kitchen, her tone indicating she’d picked up a phone call. 

vylad shifts from where he sat on the other side of the couch, turning down the volume of the tv that had been playing mindless background noise to his and garroth’s thoughts. his head turns to better hear their mother’s voice, only to flinch when the shattering of porcelain on the floor and a sharp gasp from the woman breaks the silence.

“where is she?”

garroth swallows, eyes widening before shooting up from his spot, sprinting into the kitchen and nearly crashing into the counter. he's gripping onto the marble top as he stares down his mom—the woman leaning back into the corner with a face void of color. her sweet, green eyes are glossy with tears, hand reaching out to zane whose eye flicks between her and the shattered plate in concern. for once, he looks to his two brothers without malice or annoyance, instead holding zianna’s hand with care as he leans in to overhear the other end of the line.

“and she’s okay?” she whimpers, shaking her head as she looks around, attempting to move. “where? where?”

garroth sucks in air, only just realizing he’d been holding his breath before rushing to his mom, lifting her over the shards threatening to slice her bare feet. she dashes over to snatch her keys up from the hallway table, sliding her feet into some sandals by the door—before stopping in the doorway, and turning to face her sons once again.

“i’m headed there now.”

as soon as the phone is pulled away from her face, questions hastily tumble from their mouths.

“she?”

“did they find her?”

“where are you going?”

she covers her mouth, pulling in a deep breath in an attempt to pull herself together in front of the kids. they were only kids. she was only a kid.

“yes—she—” she clears her throat, wiping at her bare face. “they found her. she’s in a hospital an hour from here. i’m headed there now—”

“i’m going!” garroth interrupts, startling the woman and making her jump in place.

“yes… all of you can come. i’m not even—” she waves them forward, pausing by the mirror and beginning to fix her hair—before shaking her head, footsteps quick as she goes off to the garage door. “just get in the car, boys. i need to call garte…”

all three of the boys follow, the youngest boy pulling out his phone and sending off a text as they scramble for their seats in the suv. zianna’s hands tremble as she starts the key in the ignition.

vylad: they found her.

laurance: wait what?

katelyn: please don’t tell me you’re lying

lucinda: is she okay?

travis: where???

nicole: which hospital???????

dante: are you serious? did they find her just now?

aphmau: she’s at nahakra hospital

teony: can we see her?

laurance: i don’t care i’m going anyway

nana: i’m crying please tell me she’s okay

aphmau: i don’t know there’s no details yet

katelyn: i’m going too

aphmau sent a location.

“mom.” zane’s voice cuts across the near-silent car. “it’s night. you’re driving crazy.”

zianna clears her throat as she slows down, and when garroth glances over she quickly wipes her face again, shaking her head. “i’m sorry boys, i’m just—oh, that poor baby. please, please let her be okay.”

the drive there is a long one, both having stretched on for far too long and blurring together in garroth’s memory as they now sit in the small hospital’s lobby.

“we can’t go see her at all?” sylvanna presses. the poor receptionist who they'd been badgering for the past hour shifts in her seat.

“i’m sorry, ma'am. all i can tell you is that she is alive and stable. but i can’t give you details or let you through unless you’re family.”

“she is family.”

“...i’m sorry. please understand i can’t do anything more until a doctor gives the clear. you can take a seat and have some refreshments until then.”

katelyn sighs, shifting as she glances at the analog clock above her. nana and aphmau let their heads bobble against her shoulders as she moves, hands clutched onto each other, exchanging words of worry that didn’t leave their lips.

12:40 am.

“no, man. they’re not even letting us see her,” laurance mutters into the phone, sighing tensely. “yeah, just come tomorrow if you want… yeah, i’ll text. yeah. bye.”

“was that dante?” aphmau shifts her head, voice quiet.

“yeah. his mom won’t drive him this late and he was trying to get… gene to come back from out of town to get him here.” his lips sour at the name, but he seems too tired to dwell on his own reservations. “...i think teony and lucinda won’t be coming until tomorrow, too.”

“makes sense…” nana rubs her swollen eyes, her nose still red. “the only reason i could come is 'cause aphmau picked me up.”

travis is uncharacteristically quiet, eyes round and knees hugged to his chest as he stares at the adults in the room.

following travis' line of sight, garroth glances over at the receptionist's desk. even his dad was here… his arm wrapped around zianna’s hunched shoulders as they exchanged hushed whispers with travis’s dad and… two people he’d never met before. aphmau had said something about aaron’s parents earlier, seeming confused herself, but why would they be here? or travis’s dad, for that matter… and what could the group of them possibly have so much to talk about so secretly and with such intensity?

“...fuck this. i’m finding something out,” he mutters, earning a questioning look from laurance as he stands from his seat, slowly making his way to the stairway and slipping through the door, thankful for sylvanna’s distraction to the staff.

they mentioned that you're in a room on the third floor. his feet skip every other step as he huffs his way up the flights, stopping at the thin window and glancing inside with narrowed eyes. the coast is clear, so, after catching his breath, he pushes through the door, glancing around the hall. he can hear distant chatter around the corner, and recognizes the familiar cadence of your mom’s voice. a pang of guilt and shame runs through him, his eyes dropping to the tiled floor as he moves closer, listening to her despaired, hitched breaths.

“...yes ma’am. torn ligaments in her feet, a fractured wrist, pretty deep fissures on her whole body… it’s all healed. the stitches pushed out of her skin. i really have no way to explain this except for an ancient magic that hasn’t been used by anyone for a long time. this kind of practice would be…” the doctor clears his throat, pausing. “ah, but… aside from her external injuries, our biggest issue is what came back on her brain scan… and her blood results.”

“what is it?” a gruff voice urges.

“she had large amounts of midazolam in her system. it’s a sedative that can cause some serious issues with hallucinations and memory recollection if abused. judging by the scan, it seems like she had a pretty consistent flow of it, but there’s also not enough information to tell how much she's been affected by it, and how much damage it's done.”

garroth’s mouth curls, hand coming to cover his face as the blood drains from his face.

“and…” the doctor seems to be choosing his words carefully, voice gentle. “there's more. not only was she given large amounts of midazolam, but her brain shows signs that we would see in a person who went through something highly traumatizing. it’s likely she will suffer from dissociative amnesia among other ptsd symptoms. i can’t tell you how she will react when she wakes up, as it varies among each patient… but she will require a lot of psychiatric help. i don’t mean to make this worse, but this is the worst case i’ve ever seen.”

bile rises up garroth’s throat, and he’s forced to swallow as he slides down the sterile, white wall of the hospital hall. another choked weep leaves your mother’s lips, but not before the doctor speaks up again.

“but also…” he hesitates. “while her other injuries mysteriously have been healed, she has strange scarring on the upper half of her arms and legs, as well as a scar along her neck. they’re very precise. it's a quality that, in my personal opinion, one would expect from an experienced doctor… and when she arrived, the outfit she was wearing was a patient’s two-piece with the number three on it. we don’t have much other information as of yet.”

“oh god… this is all our… fault…” your mother incoherently babbles. “my baby… what have i done to you…”

“ma’am…?” the doctor sounds uncomfortable, confused. “i don’t…”

“please just leave us be for a moment.” your dad’s voice cracks.

a quick tap on garroth’s shoulder has the boy jumping out of his skin, whipping his head up to see the scolding face of a nurse peering down at him.

“young man… you know you aren’t supposed to be here,” she says, voice firm but eyes at the very least understanding as she keeps her voice at a whisper. “go back to the waiting room. you’ll get to see her eventually. okay?”

garroth swipes a hand over the back of his neck, the cold sweat making him shiver as he stands. his eyes are glassed over as he nods, stumbling back to the stairwell without another word.

©starhvney 2024. do not plagiarize, feed to any AI, or repost my works to any sites.

tag list: @orinlin @pain-in-the-ashe @youmake1mistake @arienic @wasting-away-on-the-internet @angelhyperfixates @remiechu @valentique @kalegrinch @izzybella1807

[anakinsbaee]

misses pt.2 - M.S

summary: in which you finally meet matt again after a year of no contact, trying to push out the truth from matt

warnings: use of y/n, not proofread, exbsf!matt, y/n used to like matt, no smut, angst, sad, mention of love next ->

You stared down at your shoes, the chill of the wooden bench seeping through your thin pajama pants, biting against your skin. Your hands moved restlessly, rubbing together to conjure any warmth they could find. Despite your best efforts to turn this visit into something positive, the loneliness crept in like a cold draft, impossible to ignore. You slipped in your earbuds, the faint sound of music filling your ears as you hummed along, trying to drown out the silence that pressed in from all sides.

Just a few years ago you were hanging out with all 3 of them. It was all so exciting, so new and cozy. Matt understood me, he knew me. So well. He could never be mistaken.

Matt made winter warmer and cozier. He made you wanna go drive around He made it fun to go to school. He made you fall in love with autumn. He made you fall in love. Fall. In. Love?

That word wasn’t familiar anymore to you, even though it was something you never spoke of.

You hate winter, for it reminds you of the biting chill in the air, And how unfriendly the snow can be, blanketing the world in its icy indifference.

You hate school, it reminds you of the hours of your life you’d spend with your love of your life, pouring out your soul to him. But all that time now felt it as if it was cut in the unseeing pieces of you crushed up and brushed under the rug

You hate autumn, you hate how all the leaves slowly fade away, curling into themselves, timidly hanging off the once full of life tree, now just a painfully sorrowful and uninviting sigh, and you just have to observe, the nature reversing the birth of something so beautiful, now reachings it’s end of it’s time. You can’t stop it.  

Just like you couldn’t stop Matt.

A few moments pass by, you sat alone as you tapped your shoes against the concert pavement along to the music, observing the nostalgic park that once used to be so colourful, now so dull.

You heard distant footsteps as your music wasn’t as loud, you still wanted to hear the trees swishing in the wind, and the cars humming against the road.

The footsteps come to a halt.

A tall figure stands, his hands in his hoodie pockets. “Y/N?” You hear a familiar voice, in an almost shocked or confused tone. The cold air puffs out of his mouth as he speaks.

You looked up, your brows furrowed, caught in the haze of memories that once brought comfort but now stirred only distress and nausea. The voice held a faint trace of familiarity. You stood slightly hunched, your puffer jacket as poofy as ever, hands buried deep in your pockets, desperately seeking warmth.

“Matt?”

Your jaw dropping almost immediately. Your stomach stringing knots, a feeling that brings you comfort. Whenever you saw Matt that feeling would never go away.

“What the- What’re you doing here?” He asked me, pulling out one of his hands from his pocket to rub his neck.

You suddenly couldn’t speak, anxiety cripples over you. I can’t mess this up.

Is this a dream? 

Your voices get caught in your throat.

“U-um, I’m just- trying to get a break from all the work.” You cleared your throat. 

Obviously you wouldn’t say; ‘I’m just so in love with you I can’t get over you and I needed to come here and reminisce all the times we had together in this park. And how I almost confessed to you but Chris and Nick both felt sick so you had to drop me off and I never even thought of doing it again.”

“Oh, obviously.” He shook his head. “Um, it’s weird to see you here, at 5- almost 6am.” He chuckled dryly.

“Same to you. I thought- you were at L.A?” You took out your earbuds to hear his sudden urge to leave you and not only without a message, without an update or any contact.

His eyes widened at the sudden question. “Oh. About that, I’m sorry I never talked to you. I just- I couldn’t get the courage to tell you, that’d-” He cut himself off. His head falling into his free hand.

“I couldn’t tell you that I was moving there.” He said sternly. He rubbed above his eyebrows with his thumb and index finger. “I never understood why you wouldn’t tell me that, especially after you told me specifically that you’d never move there.” 

You let out a heavy sigh, the hurt and frustration clear in your voice. But none of that mattered—you needed to know what was running through his mind at that very moment.

“Our manager, we just listened to her. And I feel like I just betrayed you– And I know, I’m so, so, so sorry.” His brows furrowed, a silent plea in his eyes, desperate for you to understand.

You shook your head softly and chuckled. “You know me. You. know. me, Matt. That’s the crazy thing.”

You got up from the bench, and a gust of wind made shivers run down your spine. The dawn’s threatening wind howls at you, expressing that suppressed anger you felt rushing through your blood.

“I wouldn’t ever get mad at you for leaving to move to L.A, yeah sure I’d be confused but that’s the thing. I love you enough to understand.” You spat out, your brain not registering anything. You were fuming in anger. Tears brimming your eyes, you just wish it could all stop and it’d just be a crushing and unforgettable nightmare.

“I love you?” He repeated. He tried to hold in his sadness.

“Why didn’t you tell me this?” He asked, his voice a fragile whisper, nearly lost in the mournful wails of the wind.

You didn't even feel surprised, not a flicker of shock or self-reproach in your eyes. You just spoke the words, as if they'd been waiting on your lips all along.

You meant every word—you loved him, and you had for what felt like an eternity.

Since freshman year. Now you’re in your 3rd year of University. Seven years of silent eye contact stretched far beyond their welcome, A longing gaze that lingered longer than either of us ever imagined. What began as a fleeting moment has swelled into a restless ache, A quiet storm that stirs the heart and keeps me awake at night.

“I didn’t tell you because it would ruin everything I wanted not to slip away from my grasp, I didn’t want my love to drive me away from this– and not that it worked, you still left. You left a hole through my already tender heart. I haven’t healed, not even a bit. I’m sore, I can’t sleep, can't eat. I can’t do anything.” You sniffled, desperate tears, threatening to escape, tingling your inner corners of your eyes. Leaving them red.

“You tore a jagged hole through my tender, forgiving heart,

Vanishing as if you were never meant to be seen.

You slipped away, a shadow in the night—

Quietly, cruelly, and without a trace of regret.”

Is exactly what I journaled in my book almost every time. It was the only way I could express it.

Words were my thing.

Our thing.

I’m sorry,

I loved you.

erm so this is very bad i hate the way i worded it but i think it turned out better than expected. (but i still dont like it)

tags: @starkeyszn

comment to be added to the taglist :)

[catiuskaa]

influence and influenza.

sum. alas, one should note the difference between influence and influenza, even if one can ultimately end up with both.

wc: +1k? (not proofread, oops)

cw: fluff! lowercase, mentions of mild sickness (a cold), social anxiety.

req! by 🍓anon here. I LOVED THIS SO SO MUCHH you gave me seung brainrot and i thank you for it bubs.

[♦️☆ 🗳️ ☆♦️]

a sneeze.

it’s high pitched and nothing comes out of it, as yucky as the sentence may sound at first —and at second, too— but nevermind it, seungmin blinks at you when the only thing you do is stare blankly at the floor. he could vaguely hear someone say ‘bless you’, but neither you or him made any sort of reaction.

and its cartoonish the way he looks around before taking your hand and settling into the pocket of his jacket.

seungmin isn’t overly affectionate. he isn’t the type to proclaim loud and dramatic love confessions. he wasn’t cut out for love stories either: no cozy bookstores, no spring confessions under cherry blossom leaves that fall ever-so-slightly nor bestseller romances that could involve any sort of dramatic, sexy stares in parties. heck, you weren’t sure he even liked parties to begin with.

but you did. you loved all of that.

“maybe it’s the influence of you.”

you had stared at felix like he had grown a second head without the need to cut off his first one.

“the what,” you had blinked.

and felix, the everlasting sunshine he was, shining even through his phone and reaching to you by pixels and shitty wifi, rolled his eyes.

“he likes you, doesn’t he? he spends time with you. surely he���s gonna catch something.”

warmth. soft.

your hand. you blink again, and you look at where his sleeve dissapears into his jacket, and now your arm follows, and you blink again. he’s touching your hand. maybe he catched it.

“hey,” seungmin mumbles softly.

your stare focuses on him after a second.

have you always been there? you want to ask, but you don’t. suddenly, there’s no air, but if you think about it, you don’t remember the last time you breathed, as weird as the thought sounds.

“too much?”

and you just blink. twice. a no-conversation, where by a little gesture, seungmin enchants your heart and squeezes your hand, stone-faced as he moves through the people in a way that to you seemed like he could move oceans and rivers with ease.

he’s your rock. scratch that, because even better: he’s seungmin. your seungmin. a word from his lips had already let you breathe more than the sad excuse of oxygen that allegedly remained in the air.

and in a brisk walk, a gentle swish of his hand as so not to worry chan, you both get out of the crowded party —so crowded that its purpose or motive had been lost to you, really— and alas, you reach somewhere less crowded.

the porch seems cold in the midst of october, and the stark contrast from inside allows the winter sheepishly kiss your cheeks, making both of your faces blush.

with now cold air around and no sweaty bodies to suffocate it from you, you breathe, surprised to see how trembling it comes out.

hold your peace. breathe. hold your peace.

seungmin lifts your chin.

“don’t look at the floor.” his voice is soft, dulled by his scarf. huh. he wasn’t wearing that before. “i want your eyes on me, pretty.” he smiles softly, allowing you to see it when he takes his scarf off and settles it around you tenderly.

breathe. breathe. hold your peace.

he clicks his tongue, noticing how you start shivering. you realize it only after he zips down his jacket and surrounds your body with it. he should have taken both of your coats. and maybe, a part of him wants to say sorry because of how badly he thinks he’s doing in an attempt to help you, he stops himself when your arms slither around his back and hug him tightly.

“hold your peace. breathe.”

and that was supposed to be an inside thought, but you don’t realize it. only after he pecks the top of your head.

“don’t hold your peace.” seungmin sighs, hugging you tightly. “start a riot, pretty.” he mumbles. “it’s ok. i’m here, my love.”

and somehow, that clicks. your body stops feeling so tense. the air passes down your throat and into your lungs, no strange pressure on your chest, no awkward lump in your throat, no nothing. for a second it all clicks like pieces of a puzzle.

your cheeks feel cold suddenly. and you hug him and cry.

sure, in seungmin’s eyes, he was no romancer. he was pretty sure he sucked at flirting, he had no discernable personality aside from the fact that he had some snarky comments up his sleeve, and he was lucky to have found you, let alone be able to hold you so close and dearly.

taking you back home, undressing you, tackling you to bed and curling your legs together under the warm skin-to-skin touch, cuddling in a way that it feels like neither of you could let go as you scratch his head and he lets his fingers roam through your back, connecting old scars and forming constellations that couldn’t compare to the one’s that were reflected in his eyes when he looked at you before pecking your lips. once. twice. a sigh, and then another one… or staying at the party… was a choice so, so, so fucking easy he didn’t even bothered to go look for chan and barely texted: ‘exited, old man. had fun!’ after grabbing your coats and leaving the messy party.

he kisses your cheek as he wakes up the next morning, but then, he stands up from the bed and groans.

“you gave me influenza!”

“i gave you- huh?”

his nose itches and his eyes look a bit red in the reflection of the mirror in front of him as he blows his nose.

well. kissing you was worth it.

“oh.” you giggle in the background, and he follows with a sneeze.

guess he did catch something after all.

maybe it’s the influence of you, because he can’t find it in him to care.

and when he sneezes again, he chuckles, knowing that as much as it is ruining your little moment of romanticism, it’s just the influenza.

“no one calls it that anymore,” you sniff, smiling, shoving him playfully, “its just a cold.”

“that’s what i get after being romantic?” seungmin chimes back, holding his weight on his arms as they cage you against his body and your back against the matress, and he smirks, faking offense. “me? your chivalrous knight for the night?”

“chessy.” you snicker, but he cackles, and with a sly grin, runs away from your shared room.

“wait.” you freeze and curse, yet you can’t hold back a giggle when you rush, in a futile attempt to catch him. “give me my kleenex box back!”

“fight me!”

who needs silly, crowded parties anyway?

[♦️☆ 🗳️ ☆♦️]

kats, who, fun fact, went into a seungmin frenzy and accidentally also planned a long one-shot (i would have been mixed it w/ this one bUT ALAS, can’t, no time, so its going to catch dust in my drafts for a while lol)

catiuskaa, october 2024 ©

PERMANENT TAGLIST! @stayconnecteed @lyramundana @thatonedarkskinnedsiren @starlostastronaut

[lavandulawrites]

Yandere Bungo Stray Dogs men on their first date with their darling: Chuuya and Tanizaki

Yandere Chuuya x reader, yandere Tanizaki x reader

Chuuya is such a gentleman and Tanizaki can be quite frightening at times

Warnings: mention of violence. Tanizaki and Naomi have a normal sibling relationship and are normal siblings.

Masterlist

Word count: 1208

Chuuya

The restaurant’s lights were dimmed creating an intimate atmosphere. Soft jazz playing from a grand piano, the pianist an older man dressed in a elegant suit. The sound of wine glasses clinking together distant. You were seated in a more scheduled spot, perfect for soft whispers and lingering touches. In front of you were a plate of a delicate decorated lasagna. It was clear that the chef had taken their time on preferring your meal.

Chuuya was sitting opposite of you with a wine glass in hand. The red liquid swishing slightly around as he gently rolled his hand taking a whiff of the sweet aroma. In front of him where a plate of pasta carbonara.

“This place is really nice and the lasagna is amazing!” you beamed. You took a bite of your lasagna and hummed in delight, the flavours were melting on your tongue.

“I am glad you like it. I am a regular here actually” Chuuya smiled. His blue eyes filled with love.

“It’s not hard to imagine why. Their food really are something else” you turned your attention back to your plate. You were quite nervous. It was your first date with the handsome man.

He chucked slightly at your nervous expression. His laugh deep and as smooth as honey, making you blush slightly. “I am glad you could make it today” he placed his glass down with a soft clink.

“Yeah me too. My boss was kind enough for letting me go early” you nodded.

“You know… Stress is really bad for you” he repositioned himself in his seat and leaned forward on his elbows. “Have you considered taking a week off? I have plenty of holiday houses” his voice soft, but his eyes poorly concealed worry and something else you couldn’t quite place.

“Thank you for your offer, but I don’t think I am able to” you sighed.

His brows furrowed and he leaned back in his seat. “And why is that?”.

You fiddled nervously with your pearl bracelet. “It’s a lot to do at work at the moment. The only reason to why I got to go early today is because I have been working every day these past two weeks”.

He looked at you with a brow raised in disappointment. “You have been overworking yourself” his voice stern and disappointed. He looked at you for a moment before he opened his mouth “You should go on vacation with me. We could perhaps go to Paris. Wouldn’t that be nice?”.

“Chuuya… I can’t just do that. Did you not listen to what I just said? I appreciate your concern, but I cannot simply drop everything and take some days off” you shook your head.

“You can” he intertwined his hands and placed his head on them, leaning forward. “You definitely can. All you need to do is resign” his expression completely serious.

You looked at him with disbelief. “I know I haven’t known you for that long, but I have known you long enough for me to say that you really do need a break. You can always live with me. That way you wouldn’t need to work so much, since you wouldn’t need to worry about your rent. I have plenty of room in my penthouse” he smiled. His canine chanting the light making it glisten. He really was charming.

“I can’t do that”

“Of course you can. I have more than enough money” he furrowed his brows in slight annoyance. He picked up his glass and took a sip, he closed his eyes and hummed at the sweet taste. “Let’s not talk about this anymore. I will let you think about it” he smiled warmly. You could see obsession and determination swirling in his blue eyes.

Tanizaki

Tanizaki nervously pulled on the red hem of his hoodie. His eyes flickering between you and the window of the cozy French styled café. You only glanced at him out of the corner of your eye finding his behaviour cute. “Do you know what to order?” you asked the ginger as you nodded at the menu in his hands. His knuckles were white from his tight grip. He shot his gaze towards you and pink blush crept over his cheeks.

He nodded. “Y-yes…” he quacked out. “I will take a Croque Madame”.

Your eyes scanned over the menu “I will take a sourdough sandwich”.

You was about to rise to your feet to order when Tanizaki put his hand on your arm. “I will order” his lips pulled back in a small smile. You nodded and watched him making his way over to the counter.

With giddy steps he walked over to your table with a tray. “I ordered us both a caramel latte” he smiled as he took a seat.

“Thank you Tanizaki” you smiled at the ginger.

“Don’t mention it. It’s my treat” his eyes were beaming. He picked up his cutlery before he put it down again, eyes looking intensely into yours. “Thank you for agreeing to go out with me. I really appreciate it” his expression genuine.

“No need to thank me. I am glad you asked me out Tanizaki. I should be the one thank you”

His lips curled into a smile “Please call me Junichiro”

You nodded. “How’s your week been? I read in the newspaper that the amount of crimes have skyrocketed, so the agency must have been quite busy I assume”.

He nodded. “Yeah it have been quite hectic, but thanks to you I have managed” he whispered the last part while he looked down on his plate.

“I am sorry? I didn’t quite catch that”

“Oh! It’s nothing!” his cheeks where as red as his hoodie. “What about you then? How has your studies been?” his head tilted slightly in interest.

You sighed. “Well my studies are going well. The other night I got almost robbed by some random guys. It turns out that one of the guys are my friend’s ex. He decided to take revenge on me to get to her, even though I hadn’t done anything. I didn’t even know him!” you rolled your eyes and huffed in frustration.

“What did you say?” his voice eerie silent. You looked back at Tanizaki and your over dramatic expression fell. His eyes were darkened and his mouth twisted into something akin to a growl.

“It happened two days ago, it’s okay. We sorted it out. He even got in trouble with the police” you raised your hands as to calm him down.

His eyes were narrowed and his brows furrowed. He lips pulled back into a snarl. He was truly terrifying. “I should rip him apart for hurting you” his voice a low growl.

“Junichiro!” you glared at him.

“I should carve out his eyes and feed it to some strays. THIS WILL NOT GO UNPUNISHED!” his face was twisted in rage fitting a rabid dog.

You gently placed your hand on his. “Please calm down. Let’s just enjoy lunch together okay?” you plastered on a face smile, trying to convince him to drop it.

His hazel eyes scanned yours, before they softened. “Of course” he smiled. “I still won’t forgive him though. He will get as he deserves” his left eye twitching.

[kkeidawrites]

A Gemstone’s Worth

Welcome to Day 29 of Blacktober!

The next day arrives and Bruce Wayne is driving through downtown Gotham City as he makes his way to the irate woman he had met the night before.

Her secretary has claimed that she was currently in her office at the parlor today and this was a great opportunity for him to give her some information about what his brokers had done behind closed doors.

As he arrived at L/n Styles, Bruce could see that the area where the store was located was just a ways off of where the shopping district is located and would hope that it was getting just as much revenue as the other stores.

The storefront was painted with white and grey accents and neon aesthetics, a cozy greeting for those who entered. It had a window that displayed three mannequins, styled with both street fashion and jewelry, along with the prices.

Entering the store, Bruce adjusts the Manila folder tucked under his right arm and looks around the store, rows of clothes were neatly lined up on racks, each color coded and style wise on each metal frame.

“Hello, welcome to L/n Styles!” He looks to his left and sees a young girl come up to him. Her style was streetwear with a touch of goth and her hair was long and bright blue.

“Can I help you with anything? Looking for anything special?” She asked professionally.

“Just the owner. I was told that she would be here today.” Bruce says and the young girl hums in thought.

“Ms. L/n doesn’t allow anyone in her office unless it’s an appointment. Did you have an appointment set up with her?” She asks tilting her head.

Her name tag read: Luda and Bruce digs in his pocket to take out his business card, handing it to her.

“I would appreciate it if you would give this to her, Miss Luda. It’s imperative that I speak with her.” Bruce insists and Luda shrugs before leaving to head to the back of the store.

Bruce takes this time to look around the store, taking note of the intricate details and makings of the store. It really fit a young people and teenager audience unfortunately Bruce wasn’t too understanding of fashion.

“Mr. Bruce Wayne?” Luda calls and he looks up to see the young girl waving him over to her.

Walking over to her, Luda parts the curtains that leads to the back of the store and motions Bruce to enter.

“Ms. L/n is down this hallway to the right, you can’t miss it.” She instructs.

“Thank you.” He says and Luda hums in response leaving him with a swish of the curtains adjusting back in place once she’s gone.

Bruce follows her instructions and is now standing in front of a tall white arched closed doorframe. Knocking, he waits for the command to come inside.

“Come in, Mr. Wayne.” He heard the tired voice of Y/n speak through the door.

He twists the silver knob and pushes the door open to reveal a quaint office that fit the aesthetic of the storefront.

Writing on a piece of paper, Y/n was busy making sure that all the money that she spent this month was balancing with the amount in her ledger.

“You can have a seat. I’ll be right with you.” She tells him.

Bruce does so and checks out the decor on her desk especially the photo that sat on the left of her pencil cup. In the photo was a picture of two women, twins hugging one another with bright smiles on their faces and a man with both his hands on top of their heads.

“So,” Y/n begins and sets down her pen, looking up at him with her hands folded in front of her.

“You have information on what is going on with your company and mine?” She gets straight to the point.

Bruce pulls out the folder and sets it on the desk, opening it to show a stack of paper clipped forms inside. He hands the stack over to Y/n who looks over the paperwork, flipping to the next page to read over each one.

“The first two pages are apart of a contract that one of the brokers investing in my company has signed. It would seem that they had added a clause involving your store and has been taking 40% of the shares since the start of this year.” Bruce explains.

“And you just so happened to just find out about this?” Y/n questions as she flips through the rest of the paperwork, seeing that they were obsolete to what she needed to know.

Bruce waits patiently as the woman continued to read the documents in hand. He then jumps back in his chair as the stacks of paper is thrown into his face, falling into his lap.

“What-“

“I think you’re full of shit, Mr. Wayne,”Y/n folds her hands on her desk again and gives him a blank look.

“You’re not going to just say that and think everything will be all good after what’s happened to my family business. I lost money, lots of money because you didn’t read the fine print, my business is at a point where I could lose it. So, I would suggest you and I swap our lawyer’s information because I am officially going to take you to court.” Y/n declares and Bruce’s eyes widen.

“Wait, Miss. L/n that is not necessary, I’m sure we can come to a conclusion-“

“Either hand me the information or I’ll call security to escort you out of my store. There should not be any more contact between you and me unless legal counsel is present.” Y/n slides over a pen and notepad then waits and Bruce sighs as he pulls out his phone and wrote down his lawyer’s phone number.

Y/n writes down her lawyer’s information and slides it over to him. Getting up, Y/n walks to her door and opens it, motioning for him to leave her office.

“Have a lovely day, Mr. Wayne.” Y/n says, not a once of sincerity in her tone. Bruce leaves and nods politely to her in passing.

Once Bruce is back in his car, the sigh that leaves him is long and full of aggravation. His phone rings in the cup holder and he picks it up, seeing that it was Alfred calling.

Answering it, Bruce puts it on speaker as he starts up his car.

“How did it go with Miss. L/n, sir?”

“Alfred, I need to have one of my suits ready for the next couple of weeks.” Bruce rubs his temples in annoyance.

“What for sir?”

“I’m officially being sued.” Is all he says and Alfred sighs through the phone.

“Well, I suppose this would happen sooner or later. Didn’t expect it to be so soon.” Alfred says.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Sir, there is an emergency beacon going off.” Alfred alerts

“Where?”

“I’m sending the coordinates to you now.” Bruce puts his car in drive to head into the city.

“Send the Batmobile to the coordinates I sent you, I’ll drop off my car and keep going from there.”

“Right away sir.” Alfred says and hangs up.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

The security alarm blared from inside the jewelry store while the one who was sitting on a velvet Victorian chaise was busy looking at the necklaces of geodes and gems.

Black Sparrow puts back the less valuable items in the display case and takes the ones she wants over to the counter. The store owner was cowering behind the register and the woman couldn’t care less about the fear he felt.

“Look, why don’t you be a nice little man and wrap these up for me? Make sure you wrap it up nice, they’re presents for someone special.” She smiles and the owner trembles as he takes the handful of geodes in his hands.

“But, these aren’t worth a lot, why take them?” The man questions.

“I have more important things to answer than that. Still don’t know why you even set the alarm off for, all I did was walk in.” Sparrow shrugs.

“Well, you were wearing that getup and I thought that you were like that Catwoman, thieving about through Gotham.” He stutters. Sparrow hums.

“Oh yes, she is actually very cool, beautiful as well but, she doesn’t necessarily steal, just takes and puts it back. Also I’m not stealing this stuff, I’m buying it from you.” She says.

The manager didn’t know what to say but, diligently grabs the small boxes filled with cushions and places each necklace into them.

Once all twenty boxes were packed and wrapped, Sparrow pulls out a wad of cash and hands over the right amount of money to the man. He carefully takes the money and pushes the three bags across the counter to her.

“Thank you sir, have a great day.” Sparrow offers a smile and walks out of the store. Her bags rustled against her hips as she walked down the street to look over her new purchases.

“Hmm, I’m pretty sure they will like these necklaces.” Sparrow mutters and walks over to a nearby building, climbing up the fire escape ladder.

Once she was at the top of the building, Sparrow runs and jumps over to the next building over and onto the next.

Batman just so happens to see her figure jumping from roof to roof and gets out of the Batmobile.

Sparrow saw the dark knight and put it in the back of her head, she didn’t have time for him right now and thought it best to lose him.

Jumping through a window of an abandoned building, Sparrow made her way down the steps it held and climbs out another window leading to the building she was heading to.

The Gotham Orphanage sat in its wake in the lower banks of the city of Gotham and Sparrow made her way up the stairs to walk through the double doors.

Children were busy playing around the building, some taking turns on the playground that was in the middle of the house and Sparrow puts a hand on her hip.

“Hey, where’s my hello?” She announces and almost all of the children come rushing up to her in excitement.

“Sparrow is back!” One boy yells.

“Welcome back, Sparrow!” A girl exclaims.

Sparrow brings the majority of them into a big hug, and then hugs the rest individually that wasn’t able to get the loving she had plenty to give.

“Hey everyone, look what I got you.” She pulls out the boxes and hands each one to the children. They all gasped and awed at the presents then look up at her.

“Well go on, open them!” She encouraged them and they all scamper into the living area to open their gifts. The necklaces they held up in their hands gleamed in the light and some even placed them around their necks.

“Now, you don’t have to wear them as a necklace if you don’t want to,” Sparrow says and gently takes one of the children’s necklace from them. She shows them how the chain can be shortened and the geode charm was put on, now fancied into a bracelet.

“It can also be a chain to hang on your jeans as well, so it’s very versatile.” Sparrow hands the bracelet back to the girl she demonstrated and she happily put the now bracelet on her wrist.

“Thank you!” They all chimed and run off to go and play.

The head director of the orphanage comes up to Sparrow with a tired smile. She was a middle aged woman with dark grey hair and green eyes.

“Giving them more jewelry again, Sparrow?” She asks and Sparrow shrugs.

“I even got you something Miss. Janis.” Sparrow hands over a small bracelet to the woman who takes it in her right hand.

“Thank you. But you know you need to stop spoiling these children.”

“I’ve always told the kids that they can do what they like with their jewels so it’s no harm in giving them more.” She says. Miss Janis nods but then frowns sadly.

“What’s the matter?”

“Well, it would seem that the kids are handing over their jewelry to me for me to pawn it. The bills are beginning to pile up and I unfortunately don’t have any other options in order to pay for the house to stay running.”

“What? I thought the city was taking care of the expenses?” Sparrow asked, shocked.

“Just the food and clothing but not the property itself. I’m afraid we have another year left before we have to move out.” She said.

“I’ll get the money for you-“

“Sparrow, I don’t want you to worry about that, I’ll figure something out with the other directors. You just keep coming to see these children, they really love you.” She said and came close to hug her. Sparrow squeezed her close and sighed.

“Well get through this my dear, don’t you worry.”

“All I do is worry.” Sparrow pulls away.

&$$$$&&&$$$&&&$$$&&$$$$&&&$$&

This was suppose to be out yesterday but, my tumblr is acting up. Enjoy, make sure to like, reblog, and comment!

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Who warms your soul

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 21

Prompt: Snow

Rated: M

CW: nudity, sexual innuendo; monsterfucking (implied)

Tags: Fantasy AU; King!Steve; Dragon!Eddie; established relationship; soul bond; bathing together

Notes: Set in the same universe as Hic sunt dracones.

🎶⛄Do you wanna see a snow dragon?🎶⛄ And also Steve in a cozy poncho and gorgeous winter berry crown??? The amazing @house-of-the-moving-image has you covered. Give them some love, I adore them!!!

Winters in the kingdom of Hawkins are harsh - especially around the solstice, when the nights are longest and the sun a pale and weak thing. Whoever can stay inside does, huddling close to the fireplaces. 

Which is why one morning, some five months into his reign as king, Steve is surprised to wake up to voices and laughter wafting up from the castle grounds. His first thought as he pokes his head from the blankets is that it's way too bright outside, and for one panicked moment he thinks he overslept. Then his vision swims into focus and it clicks. 

"Snow!" 

He rushes over to the balcony, but it's covered in a thin white blanket and he flinches back as soon as his naked toes make contact. Down in the courtyard, a small crowd is already gathering, scooping up snowballs. 

Steve whips around, smile wide and giddy.

"Eddie, look, it snowed!" 

Dark eyes glare back at him from under a cocoon of furs and blankets. A black, scaled tail is poking out at the other end, swishing annoyedly. 

"Beautiful," his mate deadpans. "Fantastic, even. Now come back here." 

The laugh that has been building in Steve's chest bubbles out. 

"Aw," he coos, crawls back into the nest and peels the blankets from Eddie’s face. "Is the big, bad dragon scared of a little snow?"

"'m not scared," Eddie reluctantly lets himself be coaxed from the nest with kisses and caresses. "Don't like it. It's just frozen water, what's so great about it? It's cold, wet, sticky, it gets everywhere…"

"Clothes might help with that."

Eddie scowls at him. Steve can feel how their soul bond quivers with his own mirth. Finally, his dragon groans. 

"You really wanna go out there, don't you?" 

Steve is already shrugging into his warmest clothes. 

"Yup. There's always a big snowball fight on the first day of snow. I was never allowed, but this year I'm so in!" 

"Shame your parents are dead," Eddie grumbles as he trails after him into the castle halls. "I feel like killing them all over again, simply for putting me through this." 

*

They've hardly entered the courtyard when the first snowball bursts against the side of Steve’s head. He yelps and laughs while bits of it get stuck in his hair and under his collar. Eddie actually hisses and shrinks back against the wall, where Joyce is watching the mayhem with a fond smile. Steve gapes at him in mock-affront, but whips around when another projectile hits his back. 

"Got him," Dustin cheers from somewhere, then ducks for cover behind the nearest wall.

"Oh, you're dead," Steve growls, grabbing a fistful of snow as he goes. His fingers sting and go numb with it. It feels glorious. Like freedom and being alive.

"Yeah?" Robin pokes her head out from a snow palisade. Her face is flushed, eyes manic with glee. "You'll have to get us first, dingus!" 

The kids shriek and wrestle her back to safety. Her smile is so wide it looks painful, and his heart swells with the knowledge that it matches his own. He loves her, loves all of them so fucking much. He's grateful every day to have them all here. Safe and warm and together. 

Home. 

His gaze flies across the courtyard, guided by the invisible tether that is the bond. Eddie is talking about something or other with Joyce, wings furled tightly around himself, shoulders drawn almost to his ears - but when their gazes lock, his eyes light up and the connection glows with warmth, in spite of the cold.

And then another snowball hits him in the chest and he spends the better part of the morning chasing Robin around the courtyard to get his revenge. 

*

"You want me to what?"

Eddie wrinkles his nose at the steaming water like it's something gross. 

Steve laughs and splashes him with his foot. 

"Come in with me. Nothing like a nice, hot bath after a snowy day. It'll chase the cold right from your bones." 

Eddie bristles. "I'm a dragon, I don't get cold bones. What does that even mean?" 

"You sure?" Steve cocks an eyebrow and stretches, lets the candlelight glisten of wet, flushed skin. Eddie’s eyes flash gold and the bond shivers with desire. "Because right now, you seem more like a disgruntled cat, getting scared of a little-" 

He doesn’t get any further. There's a snarl, and a splash, and then he's faintly aware of water sloshing to the floor as he's crowded against the wall of the tub and kissed breathless. 

They stay like that for a while, trading breath and touch and whispers, and Eddie actually lets himself be wrestled into position for a backrub. Steve grins as he starts to purr softly. He really is like an oversized cat, sometimes.

"'m not." 

Steve chuckles, hands wandering down, to the scar tissue at the base of his dragon's tail. Eddie shudders and melts into the touch.

"Good?"

A blissful huff, bodies slotting together in the hot water. "Always so good to me, my king." 

Steve sighs, rests his forehead against a scaled shoulder. 

“Thank you.” 

For finding me, for saving me. For the sacrifices you make for me. For putting up with the dark and the wet and the cold, all for my sake.

Eddie hums and twists around so that he can pull Steve into his lap.

“You were the one who found me though, my love. And what’s a bit of snow when you get to be with the one who warms your soul?”

Steve is about to protest, but Eddie kisses the bite mark on his shoulder, and his hands slide down, and he forgets what he was going to say.

“And now,” his dragon mumbles over the sound of his first moan, “let’s get you out of this tub and into our nest. I can think of a million other ways to chase the cold from your bones.” 

I've always hc'd dragon Eddie as hating snow. 😅 This is before he re-learns how to fly - in the winters after, he defo snatches Steve off to somewhere warmer for a few days at least. 💕

All my holiday drabbles

[bellysoupset]

can you write a fic where jon thinks that he screwed up an important test and gets super anxious so much so that on results day he’s puking and refusing to eat until he gets the results only to realize that he did amazing? and caretaker leo

Leo was really cozy, his head buried in the pillows. He could vaguely feel JD purring against his stomach, her little body pressed up against his and moving with her breathing as she slept. The room was cold, but he was warm and he didn't want to get up at all.

Vaguely he wondered why he had even woken up, hand reaching out blindly for Jonah's shoulder... And met nothing. Leo frowned in his sleep, before a noise caused him to open his eyes in alarm.

Jonah throwing up.

Leo raised his head, "Jon?" he called, slightly alarmed. His boyfriend wasn't in bed, but the bathroom door was open, hence the loud noise. Still sleep drunk, Leo stumbled out of the bed and into the bathroom.

Jonah was standing in front of the toilet, one hand planted to the wall before him, half bent at the waist as he spat the sour taste in his mouth. Leo frowned, rubbing his eyes.

"What's wrong?"

Instead of answering him, Jon swallowed convulsively, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to keep from throwing up again. Leo yawned, holding a fist in front of his mouth and sleepily trying to make sense of the situation.

This clearly wasn't vertigo, so his brain was struggling to find it in it to worry.

"Did you eat something off?" Leo asked, his voice still raspy, walking further in and grabbing the glass they left on top of the sink to wash their mouths, filling it up with water.

Jonah's shoulders were trembling, but there was no heat radiating from him. Quite the opposite, he was cold to the touch. Only then did Leo realize his boyfriend was shirtless.

"Why in tarnation are you shirtless, Jon?"

Jonah let out a chuckle, that quickly turned into a whimper as he pressed his eyes to the inner part of his arm that was resting on the wall, "it was suffocating me."

"What's wrong, baby?" Leo was slightly more awake now, "are you done here? Can you come back to bed?"

"Which question you want me to answer?" Jonah scoffed, flushing the toilet and pulling back. He still looked dangerously grey, sweat collection on top of his lip as he leaned over the sink to wash his mouth.

"Uhm, you're fine," Leo concluded with a yawn, planting a hand in the middle of his back and rubbing up and down, "let's go back to bed, I'll rub your tummy. You can snuggle with JD."

"Told you..." Jonah let out a little soft burp and cringed, closing his eyes, "t'stop... letting her on the bed."

"Shhh, don't even think about it," Leo grinned, rolling his eyes and pressing his thumb and index to the back of Jonah's neck, rubbing gentle circles there, "poor baby."

"Shut the fuck up," Jonah groaned, without any heat to his voice, sounding almost a little embarrassed. His tentative smile slipped out as he mumbled a soft, "oh no," and lurched back to the toilet, this time dropping to his knees as he heaved.

Leo felt a little more awake now, as he crouched down next to his boyfriend and rubbed his back, coaxing him to breathe. Nothing came up but a few specks of spit and some burps, but Jonah was still panting as his stomach calmed down.

"Jon?" Leo brushed his curls back from his forehead, pressing his hand to it, "baby, talk with me? You're freaking me out here."

Jonah let out a groan, pulling back from the toilet and forcing himself back up again, this time swaying a little, enough that Leo grabbed his bicep to steady him.

"Jon-"

"I'm okay," he interrupted, leaning over the sink and swishing water around in his mouth, before spitting it out again, "my stomach's just a mess, I'm fine, I swear."

"Listen to yourself," Leo rolled his eyes, tugging at his arm, "come to bed, it's freezing here. What's wrong with your stomach?"

"It's just nerves," Jon allowed Leo to push him sitting on the bed and hunched over, wrapping an arm around his stomach. Unlike when he ate something off, there was no puffiness whatsoever.

Leo frowned, turning around to grab Jon something else to wear and settling for a thick creamy cardigan, it buttoned up and had a v-neck that wouldn't suffocate him, "here, put this on before you catch your death."

"That's not how contagion works at all," Jonah mumbled, but put the cardigan on, before shuddering with the cold, "I'm fine, stop looking at me like that."

"Like you just threw up your guts?"

"It was nowhere near that much."

Leo wrinkled his nose, crawling on the bed and falling on his side. He opened a pleased smile as JD immediately moved closer to him, so she could curl up near his neck.

"Lie down," Leo said, grabbing the back of Jonah's cardigan, "c'mon, lie down."

Jon groaned, slipping under the blankets and rolling closer, so he could press the top of his head to Leo's shoulder meeting the mattress, starting to gently pet JD and causing her eyes to close into little lines.

"She's purring like crazy," Leo smiled, turning his head so he could press his lips to Jon's temple, "what are you thinking about that's so horrible it made you sick?"

"The residency roll out is going to be today," Jonah mumbled, clearly not wanting to even think about it, "so I'll know if I got into cardiology or not..." his voice drifted off and Leo let out a huff.

"And you're worried? Baby, you're the best of your class," he rolled his eyes, squeezing Jonah a little tighter, "you could've gotten in any residency, Jon."

"I don't know, I think I kinda fucked the interview," Jonah rolled away, flat on his back and grabbed JD, pulling her to snuggle on top of him. The cat let out an indignant meow, slapping his chin lightly with her paw and then moving so she could curl up near his armpit, huffing.

"Fucked the interview?"

"I'm not the most likeable person," Jonah said and although he was trying to be nonchalant about it, he sounded quite bothered. Leo frowned, moving closer so he could cup Jon's face.

"You're not nearly as mean as you wanna think you are," he said, glaring at his boyfriend, "all you have is a chronic case of resting bitch face, you're one of the most caring people I know and you're a brilliant doctor. They'll take you in, Jon."

Jonah's brows dipped and he shrugged, looking scarily close to tears before he nodded and turned his head slightly, hiding it on the pillow "can we just cuddle?" he asked in a small voice and Leo promptly wrapped his arms and legs around him, like an octopus.

"Absolutely," Leo smiled, squeezing him and Jon let out a little groan at being squished like that, squirming so they could hug properly.

It was still really early on Saturday morning and Leo found himself starting to float in and out of conscience, still stroking Jon's back, occasionally letting his hand stop near where JD was purring in her sleep.

He felt Jonah slump into his arms, starting to relax, but then Leo' stomach interrupted them both by growling loudly. They were pressed together, so there was no pretending Jon didn't hear it.

"You should go eat," he said, pulling back and Leo squeezed his shoulders, keeping him put.

"I'm fine, really," he said, stopping Jon from breaking apart in the hug. Jonah let out a soft chuckle, removing Leo's arms from around him.

"Go eat."

"Urgh," Leo groaned, sitting up and rubbing his own stomach. It was hollow, completely empty, "fine. What do you want from the kitchen?"

"Nothing," Jonah shook his head, gulping down, "I'm good."

"You're still nauseous?" Leo frowned, reaching for him and cupping Jon's cheeks, "baby, you have to eat something, you already got sick, you'll just make the nausea worse if you don't."

Jonah grimaced, sitting up on the bed and nodding. Instead of answering Leo, he got up and silently followed him to the kitchen, JD following him closely, playing the hem of his pants.

Leo walked straight to the fridge. He hadn't realized he was hungry, but now that he was aware of it, it felt like he was starving. He pulled out a cartoon of eggs, some cheese, milk and butter, before looking over his shoulder.

"Grab me a bowl, would you?" he asked, eyeing Jonah up and down.

It was so wild that Jon was stressing this much about getting in, when it was pretty much a given that he would. Leo had already bought his gift, a beautiful thick white coat with Dr. Jonah Banks, MD embroidered to the right side of his chest, with space under for his specialty and his initials embroidered on the cuffs.

"Here," Jonah passed him a small bowl and then leaned against the kitchen sink as Leo cracked the eggs and started beating the ingredients together, "what if I don't get in?"

Leo frowned, the thought hadn't ever occurred to him. In his mind Jonah was already matched and working. He continued whisking the eggs as he turned to look at Jon, "then you apply next year again, babe and you can keep working at the hospital even if you don't get a residency."

"If I'm hired," Jonah said forlornly, wrapping an arm around his stomach, "which I wouldn't be, because who's gonna want a denied resident."

"You're not even graduated yet and you already have people who specifically ask for you at the ER," Leo rolled his eyes, "they'd be silly not to hire you and if they don't, there's other places you can work at. A million clinics."

"I need to have a residency for those," Jonah grumbled and Leo cringed at him finding every viable obstacle to justify his panic.

"Not for all of them. Besides, this is not a conversation we should even be having, because you'll get in. I already know it," he poured the omelet mixture in the frying pan and then moved closer to Jonah, grabbing the front of his cardigan, "take a deep breath, Jon."

Jonah obeyed, ducking his head so Leo couldn't see his eyes and then blonde let out a sigh, leaning in and pressing a haphazard kiss to Jonah's brow, "I believe in you."

"I think I'm gonna throw up again," Jonah answered instead of acknowledging Leo's words, wrapping both arms around his stomach, "I really don't feel well."

"Go sit down by the couch, I'll bring you some tea and your vertigo cookies. They should be bland enough," Leo eyed the frying pan, one hand going up Jon's back without any thought behind it.

Jonah nodded, quietly, moving away and JD let out a meow, confused as of why everyone was in the kitchen and not filling up her bowl.

"Here, you spoiled cat. Breakfast for you too," Leo scoffed, crouching down to fill her bowl up and pressing a kiss between her ears. He folded the omelet, leaving it to finish cooking and put the kettle on, sorting through the box where Jonah kept all his tea packets.

Leo couldn't remember the last time he had drunk tea, but Jonah, in true English fashion, had it almost every day, when he was not chugging coffee. Lately he was drinking more coffee than tea.

He found the peppermint one and then tilted his body back, so he could look at Jon in the living room. He was curled up on his side on the couch, as if watching television, except the TV was turned off. Leo sighed, it broke his heart to see him so unbelieving on himself, it wasn't like Jonah at all.

"Here, angel," Leo said a couple minutes later, handing Jonah a mug filled with tea and some biscuits, while sitting down holding his own plate. Jonah curled up further so Leo could sit right next to him and took a gulp of the tea, eyeing the omelet with disgust.

"Thanks," he said, nibbling at the biscuits with grimace, "my father will be insufferable if I don't get in the residency."

Leo's eyebrows shot up. He could count in one hand the amount of times in the almost two years they had been together, that Jon had mentioned his father. And it had never been like this, never like his dad actually held any impact in Jonah's life, his words were always amused or simply uninterested.

"Your dad?"

"He was first of his class. Honors graduate from Harvard University," Jonah curled up even more, taking another sip of his tea, "of course he got in his residency first thing, too."

Leo's curiosity was piqued, but he tried not to press for details no matter how much he wanted to. Jon wasn't looking so well and he was worried asking a bunch of questions wouldn't help.

"Uhm... Is he coming next week? For graduation?"

Jonah nodded quietly, then planted a hand in the middle of his chest, massaging it as if a burp was stuck, "Jackie posted all over her Instagram that she's coming, so of course he's coming too."

"Of course," Leo agreed, as if he was in the gossip, "you said they don't like each other."

"That's a way of saying it," Jonah grimaced, then muffled a little sick burp against his fist, "at least Jackie seems genuinely excited about me graduating, Jasper is just..." he made a face, then swallowed thickly.

"Jon-"

"And if I don't get in the residency, then he's going to blow a casket and I normally don't care what he thinks, but it's just- I'm a better doctor than he is. I give a shit. I'm a better person than he is, it's not fucking fair-"

"Babe, calm do-"

"And he's going to make a huge fuss with Jackie too and knowing mom she'll throw the biggest tantrum, which will ruin graduation... That's assuming they'll even show up if I don't get-" he interrupted himself with a sharp gag and Leo, who had already put away his plate in prediction of this, jumped to help.

The next gag morphed into a burp halfway through and regurgitated tea splashed all over Jonah's hands, his half filled mug... He heaved again and more vomit covered his lap.

Leo let out a whine, carefully taking the disgusting mug from him and the ruined cookies that were covered in vomit and trying his best not to gag in disgust. He dumped it all in the sink, before rushing back to the living room.

Jon had wrapped an arm around his belly, his pants had soaked the tea vomit through, so now there was just a big wet spot and a stain at the bottom of his cardigan.

"Aw Jon..." Leo sighed, crouching next to him and using the dishcloth to wipe at his chin and hands, "you're okay, I got you..."

Jon shook his head, his throat working nervously, "still think I'm gonna puke..."

"Okay, okay, can you stand?" Leo wrapped a hand around his arm and Jonah allowed him to pull himself up. Leo meant to take him back to the suite, but Jonah stumbled in the guest bathroom since it was closer, falling down to his knees and pushing the lid open just in time to cough up the rest of the tea.

"Maybe tea was a bad idea..." Leo whispered, lowering himself too and rubbing Jon's back, "it's okay, get it up, then we can go back to bed..."

Jonah heaved again, but his stomach was empty. He let out a whine and Leo wrapped an arm around his back, pulling him closer, "shhh, baby, I got you."

He heard a hiccup, which quickly morphed into a sob and Jon pressed against him, hiding his face on Leo's arm as he tried valiantly not to cry.

"Hey..." Leo hugged him closer, "Jon, you can cry if you want to, it's okay..."

"I'm not gonna cry," Jonah scoffed, although his voice was choked up and Leo let out a huff.

"I cry in front of you all the time," he squeezed the other man, "it's okay, baby..."

A little sniffle answered him, but other than that, just Jonah's difficult breathing as he tried to work through the nausea and nervousness. Across the house Leo heard his phone going off and he stiffened up, so did Jon.

"I gotta pick up..." he said, his voice all hoarse and Leo rolled his eyes.

"No, you don't-"

"I do, what if it's the University?" Jonah rested an elbow on the toilet, spitting inside of it and looking even more pale.

"I'll get your phone, stay here," Leo said, springing up. It was not the university.

Wendy's name was displayed across the front, so Leo picked it up without thinking.

"Wendy, now's not a good time-"

"JON!?" Wendy sounded breathless as she yelled in the phone and Leo cringed, pulling back from the device.

"No, it's Leo. Jonah's not-"

"LEO!" Wendy squealed again, "WHERE'S JON! HE GOT IN! HE GOT IN!!"

Leo's heart plummeted down and he gingerly sat on the edge of the bed, keeping his voice low, "how do you know that...?"

Wendy was giggling, her excitement was contagious, "I came to the University to get my results and I met with Dr. Stewarts in the hallway and he's the supervisor for cardiology and he asked if Jonah had seen his email, because he got in!! HE GOT IN!!"

"Oh shit, I- I'll call you back, Wendy. I'll have Jon call you," Leo said, his heart starting to hammer away as excitement washed over him too, "bye, thank you, love you-bye," he mumbled the words, hanging up without hearing her answer and then skipped back to the bathroom.

While he was away, Jonah had somehow managed to curl up in an even smaller ball near the toilet and he barely glanced up as he heard Leo enter the bathroom again.

"I didn't get it, right?" he said in a little voice and Leo nearly screamed as he dived down to pull Jonah into a hug.

"YOU GOT IN!" He exclaimed, nearly deafening his boyfriend and pulled back, pressing a kiss over his lips, puke breath be damned. Jonah was still confused, as he pulled back.

"Leo?"

"YOU GOT IN! Wendy just called, Stewarts told her! You got in, Jonah!" Leo rattled him like a toy and Jonah let out a squeak, finally realizing what he was saying.

"I got in!?"

"YES!" Leo shook him again, "you did, of course you did! I knew you would!"

He did not expect Jonah to burst into tears. Leo froze, alarmed, as Jonah's frown cleared up and big fat tears sprung up.

"Oh baby, c'mere-" Leo wrapped his arms around him and Jonah hugged him back immediately, continuing to cry, "shhh- I know, it's a lot..." he smiled, squeezing Jon against him.

Jonah tried to say something, but all that came out was incoherent gibberish and he settled for simply returning the hug, as Leo rocked them and kissed the side of his head over and over.

"I love you, I love you, I love you," he whispered, squeezing Jonah until the other man let out a choked up chuckle and said he couldn't breathe.