#there could be other characters too in this au

[kentopedia]

˚₊‧꒰ა ONCE BITTEN, TWICE SHY — levi ackerman

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎. your car breaks down before you can make it home for christmas. it leaves you with no choice but to call your ex-boyfriend.

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓈. fluff, sfw, gn!reader, exes, christmas, light angst, second chance romance, soft!levi, modern au — 3.3k words

𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈. dropping the annual levi christmas fic. happy birthday to my beloved, he is such a special character to me and has gotten me thru some rough times :( forever grateful u exist levi ackerman. this was going to go in a completely different direction in my head but... alas the words lead me and i must follow. hope you enjoy!

Of all the things to happen on Christmas Eve, car trouble ranked among the worst. Which, naturally, meant that’s exactly what happened to you. 

Something not too far from a blizzard had come in overnight, coating the roads in a thick, hazardous blanket. It looked beautiful, sure, but you were two hours away from where you needed to be on Christmas, and you figured — how bad could it be?

The answer was bad.

You’d skidded, blown out a tire (they were old, due for a change), and found your hood popped open with an odd smoke, stranded only 30 minutes south of where you’d come from. Your family was expecting you home by the evening, there to see everyone for Christmas Eve dinner. 

At this rate, you’d be lucky if you made it for Christmas at all.

After cursing yourself profusely for not just taking an extra day off and leaving yesterday, you started scrolling through your phone, looking for assistance.

The towing company answered the line in a sharp tone, already dismissive of your worries. It was idiots like you that kept them working Christmas Eve, and their annoyance was evident.

“What can I do for you?” a man, testy and older, answered. 

You explained the situation, and received a less than understanding response. 

“Sorry, miss, but we’ll be two hours out. There’s been a few other incidents, and we’re short-staffed. We can give you another call when we free up.”

“But I need to be somewhere tonight. There must be something you can do?”

“Sorry,” he said again, but it was clear he wasn’t very sorry at all. “If I were you, I’d start making calls… See if there’s anyone brave enough to come pick you up in this weather.”

He hung up on you.

You groaned, throwing your hands up in the air. It was unlikely that anyone would want to be your savior tonight. Your family was still 70 miles away, and everyone else you knew had other plans for Christmas Eve. 

But. 

You knew this stretch of road well, were more familiar with it than most streets along here. It was a country highway that wrapped around the smaller town before leading you onto the interstate, one direction to your hometown, the other to the city you lived in. 

Of course, it was here that your car had decided to break down, just ten minutes away from your ex-boyfriend’s house — a man you knew would be home, and certainly wouldn’t be afraid of the weather. 

In fact, he was the only one that wasn’t a tedious drive away, that could save you from the unfortunate situation you’d found yourself in.

You squeezed your eyes tight, trying not to cry. 

Calling Levi seemed your only choice — as pathetic of a choice as that was. You weren’t even sure he’d still have your number, or if he’d answer. But, your hands were becoming numb, the temperatures were dropping with the sun, and you weren’t sure how long you could stay out here without getting frostbite.

Still, on the second ring, you faltered, licking your lips. 

Maybe this was a bad idea. It’d been three years, after all. For all you knew, he could’ve had a new partner, could’ve been engaged. He could’ve moved across the country without any warning — you had no idea. 

Your hand started to fall away from your cheek, phone dropping with it. But the familiar tone stopped you, interrupting the third ring.

“Hello?” 

You exhaled, unprepared for the wave of emotions that washed over you from that simple word. Levi sounded exactly like you’d remembered, his voice even, almost monotone, nothing in it betraying his emotions. 

Still, it made your stomach twist. You couldn’t help but recall a time when that word had held a hint of affection in it.

“Levi,” you said, pushing away that line of thought to keep your voice steady. “You answered.” 

He was, apparently, just as surprised as you were. There was a long pause on the other end, before he resumed talking.

“I almost didn’t,” Levi admitted, releasing a breath of air that had to have come through his nose. “I didn’t want to. But, I couldn’t think of a good reason you’d call me on Christmas Eve unless—”

“I’m so sorry,” you cut him off, apologizing. You pinched the bridge of your nose, shivering in the cold. “I wouldn’t be calling if I weren’t desperate. but my car broke down — I was driving back to my parents’ house, and the tow company can’t come yet…” you rushed through the story, sparing too many details. “But it’s freezing, and you were the closest person I could think to call.”

He went silent once again. 

That was when you started to realize how crazy you’d been to call him. The last conversation you’d had was around this time of year, both of you stiffly walking through all the reasons you were worse for each other than you were better. 

This was a horrible idea. 

“I’m sorry,” you said again, shaking your head. Tears of embarrassment flooded your waterline. You weren’t sure they’d ever stopped. “This was stupid. Fuck. Forget it. I’ll—” 

“Where are you?” 

“What?” 

“Where are you?” Levi repeated, insistent. “I only answered because I figured it was an emergency. Looks like I was right. So where are you?” 

Your heart flipped at the notion that, even if it was a small part of him, he still cared. 

After fifteen more minutes of shivering in your freezing car, you ended up back at Levi’s house. The same house he’d lived in for ten years, and probably would live in until he died.

Levi wasn’t a homebody — in fact, he liked to spend more time outside of the house than he probably spent in it. He traveled a lot, sometimes for work, sometimes for fun. But it was a home that had belonged to his mother, until she passed away when he was freshly eighteen. 

Even if he hated living in this suburban town, you didn’t think he could stomach to part with the home he’d been raised in. One of the only things he had left of his mom.

It was almost heartbreaking, that you knew such intimate details about a person that had faded out of your life.

Levi’s house looked about the same, but Levi… Well, he looked incredible. As far as breakups went, he must have gotten the better end of it.  

His black hair was lightly dusted with snow when he helped you out of his car, red cheeks a bright contrast against his pale skin. Time may have dulled your memory of him, but you could have sworn his eyes had gotten even more blue in the time you’d been apart.

God, he was gorgeous. How had you ever been with someone like him?

“Would you like any tea?” Levi asked, taking you to the kitchen. Not like you’d forgotten how to get there. You’d spent enough time in his house to know the layout, right down to the foundation.

“Sure,” you said, still shivering, even with the heat blasting in the house. “Thank you, Levi. Not just for the tea, but for helping me. I won’t stay long, I promise.”

Levi was rummaging through his cabinet, and looked over his shoulder, back at you. Something rest on the edge of his tongue, but he said nothing, busying himself once more. 

The kitchen was the same as you’d remembered. None of the furniture had changed, but he’d added new appliances, changed out some of the cookware. Poinsettias were in the middle of the table, the only festive thing in the room.

You stared at them, and frowned, the tension between the two of you palpable. While you’d met each other once again like you’d never been parted, there still an underlying current of mistrust and uncertainty. A feeling that was expected to linger.

The break-up between you hadn’t been nasty, but you hadn’t parted on the best of terms, either. You and Levi had always argued… a lot. Half the time, it didn’t mean anything, but you couldn’t stop yourself from spitting something mean when you got angry.

It was your similarities that drove you apart, not your differences. You were both so neat, you fought over where things were meant to go. You were both independent, you grew frustrated with sharing space and compromises.

You were both stubborn, and never admitted to being wrong, even when it caused a rift between you and split you apart for good.

Of course, the worst issue was your tendency to bottle up your feelings, rather than talk through them. A problem that Levi shared — meaning that every little thing between you was brushed under the rug, only to trip you up later.

Levi brought the steaming mug over, pushing it to you across the table. You took a small sip of it, blinking at him over the edge of ceramic. 

“My favorite tea?” you asked, recognizing the taste of it immediately. “You remembered.” 

“I wasn’t sure if you still liked it, but I’ve kept it around anyway,” Levi said, and, as if realizing what he’d admitted, continued, “It grew on me. I drink it now.” 

You smiled. It was small and sad, mourning all the things you’d lost, but the sentiment warmed you all the same. You remembered Levi loved earl grey in the mornings, and chamomile before bed. In the fall, he preferred rooibos, the color and flavor reminded him of the autumn leaves. 

Or maybe he didn’t. Maybe he didn’t like any of those things, anymore. 

“I’m glad you like it now,” you said, humming. “You never did, before.” 

It sounded like a jab, even if you didn’t mean it as one. Levi stiffened, only slightly, before he released the tension and snorted, tightening his grip around the mug. 

You glanced at his hands, slender and pale, veins purple under his skin. Hands that had once roamed all over your body, slipped inside you, pulling you apart from the seams. 

That wasn’t a path you wanted to go down. You blinked, pushing away that line of thought as your stomach flipped, and prayed he hadn’t noticed your staring. 

“Anyway,” Levi coughed, clearing his throat. 

You nearly shrunk from embarrassment, certain that he had discerned your thoughts, but Levi wasn’t looking at you at all. His eyes were fixed on the clock across the room, watching the hand rotate around the frame. 

“You were visiting your family. How have they been?” 

Safe conversation, easy conversation. The kind that you could have had with any stranger, even if Levi knew all your family by name, knew your Christmas traditions. You repeated old history anyway, like you were meeting him for the first time, sharing weekend plans with an acquaintance before going your separate ways. 

The two of you chatted for a while, sipping on your teas, all the while, avoiding the topic of his holiday plans — if only to sidestep the discomfort that came with hearing he had none. Not that that was shameful, of course. Plenty of people did nothing for the holidays, didn’t want to. 

But, Levi had always come home with you for Christmas, for five years. Everyone loved him. Although you’d been nervous, at first, Levi fit right in, made himself comfortable with those that you cherished. He was polite, even though his sarcasm often bled through. But, that only made him funnier, in the eyes of everyone you held dear. They’d always given him two sets of gifts — for Christmas and his birthday — excited to watch him open them. 

Levi had always been so stoic when he responded with a stiff thank you, but you could see how touched he was, how pleased to be integrating himself so easily into your life. 

He’d made your holidays better than they’d ever been.

Now, he spent them alone. 

You couldn’t help but feel like your breakup had taken something special away from him, something he should’ve gotten to keep, even whilst you were separated. Maybe you could invite him home with you, just so your cousins could play one more round of cards with him and lose.

Melancholia flowered in your chest, and you, then, yearned for those moments, the ones you’d kept so dear. 

How had everything gone so wrong?

Your conversation stalled. You looked at each other, unsure what to say next. 

Shifting anxiously in your seat, you stood, as if for the first time realizing that you were in Levi Ackerman’s house, and you shouldn’t have been. That you were having cordial conversation with a man you swore to never speak to again, and it was like falling back into a routine, it was normal. 

And that was the worst thing about it — you knew why’d you’d broken up, but right now, you could hardly recall a good reason.

“I’m sorry,” you said for the millionth time that evening, eyes flashing towards the clock. It had only been thirty minutes, but the snow was getting worse and your tea was cold. “I should call my parents and let them know I won’t be home tonight. Hopefully the roads will be—”

“Wait.” Levi reached out, grabbing your hand before you could stand and make your exit. 

Your eyes flashed down to where you touched, at the same time his did, before you uncomfortably broke away. Levi blinked, then chewed the inside of his cheek, his mouth still drawn into that unexpressive, thin line. 

“What?” you asked, after too many seconds of silence. 

Levi inhaled, then dropped his head, jaw working as he looked away. “I’ve done a lot of thinking, over the past two years.”

Your breath caught in your chest. “About?” 

You already knew the answer.

“When we—” He licked his lips, eyes narrowing at the microwave, before they met your own. “Decided to end it.” 

Decided to end it. What a harsh way of putting it, but you supposed it was true. A final round in the passionate romance you’d had. A break-up seemed too simple for what you’d been, when it had ripped your heart out of your chest. 

“Oh,” you said, swallowing. 

“I know you might not want to have this conversation,” he said, nodding to himself. “But I need to say what I should’ve a long time ago. That I’m sorry.” Levi’s eyes were on you then, a more intense shade than you’d ever seen before. You froze, feeling unable to move, locked in the storminess of his gaze. “So many things were my fault. All the times I was dismissive, the times I was angry. All the times I didn’t communicate when I should’ve.” He released a breath, and despite his bravado, you realized he was just as nervous as you were. “I didn’t know how to love you like you wanted, and I’m sorry that I did such a bad job of it.” 

You blinked, watching him shift in his chair. “Levi…” you said slowly, softly, the word agonizing as it left his lips. 

“I know that doesn’t make it right, but I need you to know. I am sorry. You deserved better.” 

That, alone, brought you close to tears, that he seemed to be taking the blame for all the things that went wrong. Putting it on himself, when it was both of you, incapable of working together. “Levi, I’m sorry too,” you blinked back your tears, setting aside your pride. You’d already lost enough dignity, what was a little more? “You loved me just fine. Maybe I just couldn’t appreciate what I had. I never tried hard enough to make it work.” 

“That isn’t true.” 

“Yes, it is.” 

“No,” Levi huffed, “it’s—” But then he stopped, gathering himself, catching the fall, right back into the same old routine. You looked down at your hands, embarrassed. “We weren’t bad for each other. Nothing we ever did was bad for each other.” It sounded like a question, even if it wasn’t.

“It must have been,” you said, in a small voice. “Otherwise…” 

Otherwise, you’d still be together. 

Levi smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. His hands clenched and unclenched on the table. “I should’ve called you, when you left. I shouldn’t have let you walk away.” 

“But you did.” 

“I did,” he breathed. “And I regret it every day of my life.” 

You looked up at him, eyes shining at the realization. He still wanted you, maybe even still loved you. 

And as much as you cared for him, as much as your heart still bloomed in your chest at the sight of him, you weren’t sure how you felt about that.

“Levi—” you began, hoping to dispel the conversation. But he didn’t let it get that far, voice cracking at the start of his sentence.

“I mean it. I think about it all the time. About you. You were my friend as much as you were my partner, and I wanted you forever. I miss you. I—” Levi cut himself off, there, at the growing look of fear on your face, the knowledge that he was going to let something slip he shouldn’t. 

It tugged at your heartstrings all the same, and you looked away, wrapping yourself up in your arms. 

Silence fell across the room, the only sound the howling wind outside, a flurry of snow crashing against the window. Levi waited, patiently, for you to be the one to break the silence — and you summoned up all your courage, all your honesty, for a response.

“I would be lying, if I said I didn’t think about it too… What it would be like to try again.” 

Levi looked up, blue eyes narrow, but sharp with anticipation. “You—”

“I miss you too, Levi.” It felt like carving your heart out of your chest and handing it to him on a platter. “But it couldn’t be like it was before. Where we talked to each other about everything except for what really mattered. We can’t.” you swallowed, shaking your head. “I can’t do that again.” 

“I know.” Levi licked his lips. “Is that something… You would want?” 

Was it? Was Levi truly what you wanted, or were you not thinking clearly, only remembering the good times amongst all the bad. Were you just yearning for an idealization of love, a feeling that you’d been missing since splitting with Levi? Was it him you really wanted, or just someone to call your own?

But you knew the answer. It was obvious.

“Yes,” you answered, so quiet you weren’t sure he could hear it. “I would… I do want that. Maybe that’s why I didn’t hesitate to call you tonight.” 

Levi didn’t smile, but his eyes brightened, the storminess fading away so they looked like the sky. The cloud of grey above him melted away, and he seemed even younger than he had before, caught in the promises of adoration, akin to a boy in a schoolyard. 

“You can spend Christmas with me. Your birthday,” you said, hesitantly, not knowing if you’d even make it home, if you’d be stuck here. If that kind of invitation was not yours to give. “If that’s something you’d want.” 

“It is,” Levi answered softly, without questioning it, gripping your hand across the table. “I would’t want to spend it any other way.”

You smiled at each other, then, caught up in the glow of Christmas lights and the snow outside, a shaky vow holding between you. Maybe things wouldn’t change — maybe they would go back to how it’d been before, neither of you ever saying what you really meant. Maybe you’d hurt each other worse than you ever had before. 

But you loved him — you loved each other. And that could be enough.

thank you for reading! ❤︎ reblogs and comments are appreciated!!! i might write a pt 2 if there is enough interest, but i wanted to finish this before christmas ◡̈

[just-sg]

And if "just ignore them and write it anyway" doesn't overcome the anxiety, here's alternate advice:

Remember that these are opinions, and it is perfectly reasonable to consider others' opinions, but if you ask enough people, there WILL be mutually exclusive opinions out there. You CANNOT please everyone, as in it is literally physically not possible, you have slightly higher odds of your molecules lining up exactly the right way to jump through a solid wall. There is not a single decision you can ever make that will avoid the chance of someone not liking it; if enough people see your work, someone WILL have an issue with something, which means you don't have to worry about "what if". Might someone misunderstand? Might someone find it annoying or boring or upsetting? Immutably, yes; if the answer is ever no it just means not enough people have seen it yet. So stop trying to do the impossible!

And once you've got that part, think about what you can control. Look at the opinions you're worried about and actually break them down. Why does dirtysocks574774757 hate that trope?

If it's "overdone", is that actually a problem? Is it popular because many people enjoy it? Is it a little cliche, but something you personally enjoy seeing in other words even knowing that it is? Or if the problem with "overdone" is that it's overshadowing other good options, does anything else appeal to you? Is there a way you can add a unique twist to the trope, keeping what you like while also making it stand out and having all the more fun with it?

If it's "unrealistic", are you trying to be realistic? Is this an escapist fantasy or personal venting where making things better/cooler/gritter/edgier/whatever than real life is part of the point? Is pushing this idea harmful, and if so, what about it is the problem? Is there a way to address that part without avoiding everything even slightly adjacent to the trope with a 40 foot pole?

Remember that no one's opinion is objective law. Even if something is overdone to a point of becoming a stereotype, as long as that stereotype isn't spreading harmful misinformation or actively shitting on people, it doesn't mean you have to avoid anything that even might look close as much as possible at all costs, it means be careful.

Ex: Your gay character can be flamboyant, I promise; the problem isn't camp gays existing, it's when the one (1) gay character or couple in a series is always Like That and little if anything else. So just don't do that part! Remember context, too. It's very different having a whole group who all act a certain way vs a group where only one/some do, ya know? I know this post was more about pet peeves and stuff but I'm saying, if even stuff that can be genuinely bad doesn't have to always be, then you also definitely shouldn't be stressing harmless fun tropes.

Above all else: remember it's better to do something right than to do nothing wrong. There is no amount of effort you could put in to make your work appeal to everyone, but the closer you get to making it tolerable to everyone (still impossible to achieve fully), the less likely you are to appeal to much of anyone. So don't worry yourself to death (or worse, to a point of never making anything) avoiding everything that might be offputting. Instead, when you find yourself worried about a potential issue, examine it, weigh your options, and make a conscious choice about if you want to keep, alter, or scrap it. As long as you're being mindful about your decisions rather than just throwing things in with no regard, you should be FINE.

People relate to messy complex characters, and what one person finds "unrealistic" could just be a thing they don't get, but that makes someone else feel incredibly seen and validated. People like stupid indulgent fantasies! And if you need proof people will actively seek out and enjoy reading the same shit over and over, look no farther than "Coffee Shop AU" or "Only One Bed".

In the end, there's little more powerful than passion from a creator. Write what you like, write what you'd want to read, make the points you want to make. There will always be people who just don't like the things you like, and no amount of trying to water yourself down for them will make them anything more than tolerant. So write for you and the people who do like what you like, and put your whole body into it. Someone will always hate it and someone will always enjoy it, and the more you write something you enjoy, the more likely it is that the people who do like it will really, really like it. Don't hold yourself back!

hey, writers. especially neurodivergent writers with anxiety or OCD.

if you see one of those writing advice posts that is literally just, ‘these tropes suck’, ‘this story idea sucks’, ‘this sucks’, ‘that sucks’, ‘all of this is horrible’.. don’t dwell on it.

these are just random people on the internet, okay? they’re just acting like they know everything and that their personal preferences are universal.

you don’t have to listen to them, write whatever you want, regardless of if dirtysocks574774757 on Tumblr/Pinterest doesn’t like it.

(ahem, if a user by the name of dirtysocks574774757 from Tumblr or Pinterest actually does see this.. sorry 😅 i’m sure you understand)

[dailynnt]

FRIENDS WITHIN TOUCHING DISTANCE

Summary: What happens when two best friends try to get along under the same roof? You've been living with Jungkook for three months now, but your cohabitation is still a challenge for you. He continues to live like a real bachelor without following the rules you agreed upon from the beginning of your decision to live together. Should you find a compromise or should you find a new place to live?

Couple: Jeon Jungkook/ Fem!Reader

Characters: The Reader, Jeon Jungkook, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, Min Yoongi, Kim Seokjin, Kim Namjoon, Jeon Hosuk.

🔞 Age restrictions: 18+

👩🏼‍❤️‍👨🏻 Relationships: ⚤

📕 Number of part: 15/?

🖇️ Tags: best friends, friends with benefits, slow longing, sexual tension, protected sex, unprotected sex, alcohol, drunken sex, inexperienced main character, mafia au, illegal trade, deaths of minor characters, weapons, swear words. Tags will be added as the story is written.

👩🏼‍💻 From the author: It's supposed to be a Christmas present. However, I thought that there were some unpleasant things in this part, so it should not be a gift 🫢 That's why I'm posting it now! Let me know what you think of this part 😶🤗

🫂Dedication: For you, my love @myjungkookthighs . You are my favorite person 😘🥰 You know that I appreciate you very much and love you🥰💜

⚠️ Warning: English is not my native language, so there may be mistakes in the text. Please don't get mad at me too much! Those under 18, please don't read this story!

📋Tag list: @myjungkookthighs, @notsevenwithyou (If anyone wants to be in my tag list let me know)

→ Part 1 → Part 2 → Part 3 → Part 4 → Part 5 → Part 6 → Part 7 → Part 8 → Part 9 → Part 10 → Part 11 → Part 12 → Part 13 → Part 14 → Part 15

Part 14. A gift for Christmas.

Jungkook holds out his hands to you. In one of them is a bottle of plain water, and in the other he holds pills. You take the water and the pills with a small smile and take them. Jungkook watches you carefully.

"Thank you." - You say briefly, smiling again as you swallow the water and the pill. Jungkook smiles back. You stare at the water bottle as if it were too interesting to start any kind of dialog. You feel awkwardly. From everything: the fight, the sex that happened after of it, and the fact that you take birth control pill to avoid getting pregnant by your best friend.

You see Jungkook's fingers grabbing the bottle and placing it on the spesial board near the seats. You look up at your friend and see his satisfied expression. You look at him awkwardly. Jungkook leans over and kisses you on the lips. He puts one hand on your cheek, and you reflexively put yours on top.

He kisses you without his tongue. Carefully, gently, tasting your plump lips. You are enjoying this moment as much as he is. You seem to be the one who does not want to return to the previous dialog and situation. You wish this moment could happen as late as possible.

However, you can't kiss forever. Jungkook pulls away from your lips, but he doesn't moves away and strokes your cheek with his thumb.

"How are you feeling?" - He asks gently.

"Apart from the fact that I can barely sit up, I'm fine." - You say plaintively, but you smile. This makes Jungkook laugh. He fixes the hair that is falling over your face.

"I'm sorry, baby. I warned you. But you didn't listen to me, and you asked me to make you scream. You know I keep my word." - Jungkook argues cheerfully. He leans down once more and kisses you on the lips. Then he lets you in and starts the engine. You need to get back to the hotel.

The car drives almost silently. Jungkook is watching the road, darting his eyes between the mirrors. You are silent for a while and you don't know if you should start talking again. You are afraid that you might fight again. But the question is still open. You haven't decided what to do about the fact that Jungkook is hiding everything from you.

"Jungkook." - You call his name to get his attention.

"Yeah, honey?" - He turns his head to you, but continues to watch the situation on the road.

"I want coffee, can we stop somewhere to buy some?" - You ask. You suddenly feel like drinking a whole glass of flavored cappuccino.

"Sure. I'll buy you one. Do you want just coffee or something to eat?" - Jungkook asks with concern.

"No. Just coffee." - You reply shortly.

"No problem." - Jungkook says and re-routes the car to the nearest coffee shop.

The car pulled up smoothly to the cafe-drive in a Japanese Starbucks and stopped at the order window, and Jungkook bought two cups of cappuccino. One for you with syrup amaretto and cinnamon, and one for himself without any additives.

After receiving the two hot cups, you finally headed to the hotel. The aroma of coffee filled the car. Jungkook threw his drink on the holder between the seats. When you received yours, your palms immediately warmed up from the pleasant warmth. You took a small sip, and the sweet taste of the amaretto mixed with the spicy note of cinnamon, causing you to smile faintly.

No matter how much you tried to delay the moment, it was worth talking. You decide that you need to find a compromise in this situation, because Jungkook wants you not to be angry with him. And you're also exhausted because of the constant fights you've been having.

"Kook..." - You call out to him again. But this time you don't wait for him to speak. You get straight to the point. "Let's decide what to do now. I want everything to be good between us. We've been fighting a lot lately and I don't like it..." - You start to speak.

You see Jungkook lightly raise his eyebrows and bite his lips again, mocking his piercing. He holds the steering wheel tightly with one hand and reaches for the cappuccino glass with the other and takes a sip. “Here's the deal. You don't have to tell me anything more about yourself. I promise I won't ask you anything else. If you want to tell me something, I will always be here for you. But in turn, I will also stop sharing anything with you. I will tell you exactly what I think is necessary." - Finally, you finish and take a sip of coffee, tasting the apricot and cinnamon on your tongue.

You feel a look on your face. Jungkook turned to you and looked at you intently. You looked into his eyes with determination. You stared at each other for a few seconds, as if in an unequal fight.

"It doesn't work that way, baby." - He says turning back to the road. You protest at his words.

"What do you mean? Why? It seems to be the only way we don't fight." - You complain, trying to hold back the emotions that instantly fill you.

"Because they're different things." - He says softly, but you know he's serious. You are puzzled and furrow your brows.

"I don't see the difference." - You say with protest in your voice. "If you're not going to say anything, I won't either. Either we're both honest, or we're both keeping our secrets to ourselves."

Jungkook brakes the car at a traffic light. He braked too late and drove over the line, so he can't see the traffic light itself. He leans over the steering wheel to see when the light turns green.

"I'll know everything about you anyway, even if you don't tell me anything." - He says in a casual voice while continuing to stare at the traffic light.

"What do you mean?" - You didn't understand. "You're going to spy on me? Then what makes you better than Doohoon?" - Jungkook looked at you for a moment, and you could see him burning with irritation, and then he turned back. The light turned green and he continued to drive.

"I'm not going to spy on you. But you should know that this is bullshit - Doohoon won't let you go that easily. I'm just going to stay by your side as much as I can." - Jungkook states. You laugh ironically. Yeah. Of course you are. ‘As much as I can.’ He's lying again.

"As you wish." - You say. "But I think it's best this way. You keep quiet and I keep quiet. You talk and I talk." - You repeat this and assure him that it will not be any different. You are silent for a long few seconds, and your voice breaks the silence once again. "What do you say, dear?" - You smile sweetly. Jungkook takes a sip of coffee and sees you smiling sweetly. He knows you and you are a sly fox. But is he going to promise you the truth again and then break it? If he does, the consequences could be worse than the fight yesterday and today. He thinks and makes decisions. He will do his best not to hide anything, but he will also do his best to keep you safe.

"What do you want?" - Jungkook asks you to clarify your opinion. "Do you want us to share everything or not tell anything?"

"I want us to talk to each other and share everything without exception. Because that's what I've been doing all along. But if that doesn't work for you and you realize that you can't do that, we should respect each other's personal space." - You still leave the choice to Jungkook. He thinks about it a little longer and finally agrees.

"Okay. Let's be honest with each other." - He says, but you can't believe your ears. You thought for sure he would want to keep quiet.

"Really?" - You ask again, still in disbelief. Jungkook smiled.

"Yes. I'll try to be as open with you as I was before." - Jungkook promises, and your heart flutters. Yes. He used to share everything with you. Back then, you got along so well and never fought.

You can't control yourself with joy. You move over quickly and kiss his lips. Jungkook is holding the wheel and is slightly dazed by your desire to kiss him. You kiss only his sweet silken lips. You put gratitude into this quick moment.

You sit up straight, and Jungkook drives the car as if mesmerized, with a puzzled expression on his face. What was that? Did he just feel butterflies in his stomach? Fuck...

***

The sun has already set. There was only an hour left before the Christmas party started. You were almost ready, you just had to put on some lipstick and get dressed. You decided that you would do your own makeup because you didn't want to paint your face too much. Your hairstyle would be simple long waves that would cascade over your shoulders. Now your hair has been pinned up high, and before you go out you will style it properly.

You decided that dark evening makeup with a little eyeliner and brown and gold eyeshadow would work best with your dress. You remembered that you had a wonderful matte brown-caramel lipstick. It was somewhere in your backpack, separated from all the other makeup products.

Before you arrived at the hotel, you remembered that you hadn't bought shoes and tights. You had a coat that you could wear over this dress. It's not a problem that it's cold today because you'll only be outside for a few minutes, you don't want to get cold. So when you talked, you told Jungkook that you needed more clothes and of course he bought them for you.

You left the bathroom and went to your bedroom. You found your backpack lying on the chair and started rummaging through it. You didn't hear Jungkook come in. He walked over to you and watched you desperately trying to find something.

"Will you help me?" - You heard your friend's voice. You looked at him and froze at his appearance.

He was dressed in a black shirt that was buttoned up except for the throat. He wore a vest over it. Black classic pants and a leather belt around his waist. He was wearing socks and no shoes, later on it’s would be some kind of patent leather shoes or something like that. His hair was parted in a parting on his head. His hair had volume, and the strands from his bangs fell nicely to the sides. He looked damn hot in that totall-black look.

Jungkook noticed you staring at him and smiled playfully at you. You continued to look for your lipstick in your backpack in embarrassment.

"With what?" - You asked as you continued your search. Jungkook couldn't get enough of your reaction. His ego rose higher.

"Help me put on my tie." - He asked with a smile on his lips. You realized that this was going to be a moment of mockery and praise of your friend's appearance.

You put down your backpack and turned to Jungkook. He was smiling slyly and looking at your beautiful face. You took the tie from his hands, lifted the collar of his shirt, and threw it over his head. Jungkook tilted his head so that you could comfortably throw the tie over it.

While you were fiddling with the button and the collar, your friend was looking at your makeup. Black arrows on top of brown and gold eyeshadow, lush mascara lashes, blush. All that was missing was lipstick. You will put it on your lips, but Jungkook thought you didn't need it because you were already beautiful. He also noticed that your blush that was caused by his look.

"Are you blushing because of my beauty?" - Jungkook asks you playfully. You roll your eyes to your forehead, which makes your friend laugh out loud. He steals his arms around your waist and pulls you closer.

"Jungkook! You're making it hard to tie it properly." - You protest, but you don't mind the closeness. The main thing is that he doesn't forget to close the door this time.

"I'm really so handsome, maybe you're already wet just looking at me?" - Jungkook purrs. God, he shouldn't talk about your wetness. Because you need to get ready, time is running out.

"Shut your mouth, Jeon!" - You say angrily.

"Shall we test it?" - He asks, and his hand is already hiding under your robe. But you manage to intercept his hand, stopping to tie his tie.

"Don't even think about checking anything right now. Because if I don't get ready in time, you'll be explaining to everyone why we're late." - You warn him. You hold his hand with yours, but Jungkook doesn't think to stop. He pushes his hand harder so that you can't hold him.

"No problem. I'll explain." - He says in a low voice. You're already really getting wet at his tone. But you won't be having sex again tonight. And definitely not right now.

"Are you really that insatiable?" - You ask seriously. Your hand tightens on Jungkook's arm. He's stronger than you, he could get to where he wants to go in one go. But you don't have time for another round, so you hold him as tight as you can. "Seriously, Jungkook. We don't have time for this. And you're not so handsome anymore that I'm wetting over the sight of you in a black shirt." - You say mockingly. Jungkook hears you say this and grabs your buttocks with his free hand. His fingers dig into your skin, creating a pleasant pressure. You are caught off guard.

"You like to provoke me so much." - He said, almost against your lips. "When did you become such a liar?" - Jungkook smiles. He's went too far, you're really leaking now. You will have to change your panties. But you can't tell Jungkook, because for some reason you think if you do, he'll fuck you on this bed behind you.

"When have I ever lied to you?" - You ask in surprise. Your surprise is not real. "I'm serious. I still have to put on my dress, shoes, and lipstick. It's time-consuming." - Not to mention you need to change new panties. Jungkook doesn't seem to hear you.

He ignores your protests and touches his lips to your neck. You freeze from the warmth of his lips. His gentle kisses all over your neck make you tingle. He releases his hand that you were holding and pulls open the robe that covers your neck and chest. He pulls away from your skin and sees how you've skillfully disguised the hickeys he left on you today during sex in the car.

"Did you use foundation?" - Jungkook asks as he touches the hickeys.

"Yes. You're lucky I had concealer, otherwise I'd have been don’t go at best." - You lament. Jungkook runs his nose along your jawline, inhaling the scent of your skin. He's intoxicated by the light scent of cherry blossom he inhales. It's probably it because it's a very popular scent in Japan. After a shower, your skin still holds that scent.

"Maybe you didn't need to disguise it?" - He murmurs into your neck. He caresses your jaws with his nose, then gently kisses your neck with one lip. You tilted your head slightly so that Jungkook could have good access to your neck. You closed your eyes, enjoying his caressing lips.

"What do you mean?" - You grumble. "Did you want everyone to see that I was marked? You even left them on my chest so big that my dress barely will covers them." - You said with reproach, but gently.

"So what? Then everyone will know that you belong to me." - He says, stopping kissing your neck. You open your eyes and see his face a few centimeters away. You smile.

"Do you want everyone to know that I belong to you? Your friends will be most interested in when exactly I began to belong to you." - You say sweetly. You're happy to think that Jungkook wants to tell everyone that you're his. But you're not even his girlfriend. You're his friend. Or who you are to him right now?

Jungkook was upset and you saw it. He let go of your buttocks and put his hands on your waist.

"Sometimes your mouth..." - He says, a little offended. You laugh and raise your hands to your tie. You have to finish what you started, find your lipstick, and finally get dressed. Time was running out.

Jungkook really felt bad. He thought you were too beautiful today. It was annoying, because there would definitely be some dick who would stare at you. It pisses him off that someone's bullshit eyes will be evaluating you. He wants to be the only one who can see your beauty. He wishes you could be hidden from the world. Jungkook wants you to belong only to him. Damn it, and you're hasn't worn that dress yet. He remembered the neckline and was worried about whether you'd freeze in it.

You finished with the tie and Jungkook let you go. He sat down on the bed, and you started rummaging through your backpack again.

"What are you looking for?" - He asked.

"Lipstick. I had it here somewhere." - You searched and couldn't find it. It made you mad. You turned your backpack over and dumped all the contents on the bed.

The lipstick fell out and you saw it. Grabbing it in your hands, you saw a black box containing a gift for Jungkook. You had completely forgotten about her with all the drama that had happened in the last few days. You picked it up and looked at Jungkook. He, who had been watching you all this time, understood what you were trying to do.

"Jungkook." - You said softly. You walked over to him with the gift in your hands and standing in front of him. "I completely forgot, It’s good that I went to find mylipstick." - You held out your hand with a beautiful black box with a golden bow. "Merry Christmas." - You said. Jungkook stared at the gift box in your hand. He didn't expect you to have a present for him. Even though you give him gifts every year for Christmas. Why did he forget about it now? He also had a gift for you, but he planned to give it to you after the party.

"What have you got for me this time?" - He asks. He sounds excited. Jungkook looked at you, then picked up the box. His fingers briefly touched your hands, and this simple touch made your heart speed up slightly.

"Something that will always remind you of me." - You say with a shy smile. Jungkook looks at you while opening the box. You'd better not be so cute, or he'll be unable to contain himself, and to hell with everyone waiting for you two.

Finally, when Jungkook unboxes the gift, he sees what it is. Inside was a Calvin Klein watch. The black dial with thin golden hands and minimalist design matched his style perfectly.

"Is this... a watch?" - He asked, but his voice sounded more confused than questioning. He took it out of the box and held it carefully in his hands as if it were some kind of precious treasure.

"It's a limited edition…" - You explained. "I thought you should like it." - Jungkook looked at you, his eyes full of something deeper than gratitude. He looked at his watch again and then back at you.

"Are you serious?" - He whispered.

"Seriously." - You nodded. "You're going to wear it and think of me every time. Not just once a day to find out where I've been and what I've been doing." - You couldn't help but hit Jungkook. But he ignored your words and put the watch down next to him and pulled you close. He sat you on one of his legs and kissed you gently on the lips.

"Thank you." - He said quietly, his voice sounding a little hoarse. "This is the best gift I've ever received." - He kissed you again. "I have something for you too, but I was planning to give it to you after the party." - Jungkook admitted.

"Then you should do that. I have to hurry." - You say, getting off his lap and heading to the bathroom.

***

A Christmas party organized by Jimin's friend takes place in a luxurious restaurant in Niseko, in the heart of the Japanese Alps. This place has an unforgettable view - the huge windows offer a panorama of snow-capped mountains and winter landscapes, creating a magical atmosphere.

Your entire company arrives at the restaurant on time. All the guys are very handsome. Jungkook, whose image you've already seen, has completed his outfit with a black jacket with silver snaps and matching patent black loafers. Your gift, a limited edition watch, fit perfectly on his wrist.

Jimin wore a dark green velvet jacket, a black shirt, and similar black pants with perfect arrows. His look was completed with patent leather shoes.

Taehyung chose a navy blue suit made of velvet fabric and a burgundy shirt. His look was complemented by a bow tie.

Hoseok chose a more relaxed style: a striped jacket with gold accents, a black turtleneck, and stylish boots.

Jin wore a white and silver suit with a thin chain around his neck.

When they all saw you, they just started complimenting you. You wore a champagne-colored dress with a neckline and train. It hugged your figure in a perfect way, making you look very attractive and beautiful. On your feet, you put on high golden heels with thin straps, the same ones you with Jungkook came back for. They were in perfect harmony with the jewelry on your wrist and ears.

Jungkook almost boiled over when he saw the looks on all his friends' faces. God, he only had to endure only one evening.

Inside the restaurant, everything was elegant and sophisticated: marble floors, stylish furniture, luxurious tables covered with white tablecloths with gold patterns. People in expensive evening dresses are talking and laughing, and the air is filled with the light scent of fresh flowers and festive food. The music playing in the background creates an atmosphere of relaxation and festivity, slightly drowning out the conversations.

You feel uncomfortable. This is all so pretentious for you. You've never been to an event like this before and it's definitely not the kind of community you're used to being in.

Jungkook was walking next to you, and you were holding his elbow. You looked at him and saw how serious he was, and most importantly, how calm he was. He felt your gaze and smiled slightly.

"It's like we're in a movie." - You said with a smile.

"Why?" - Jungkook laughs. Yes, in a movie, and in the crime genre.

"Because it's so pretentious. I've only seen it in movies." - You admit. Jungkook laughs even harder.

"It's all because of Jimin. He has almost all his friends like that." - Jungkook says.

"He's such a simple guy. I would never have thought he would hang out with people like that." - You say. Just then, Jimin, who was a few steps ahead of you, turns to you two.

"Let's go meet and greet Kazuhiro Yamada." - He says to the two of you.

Yamada was a middle-aged man with cold, attentive eyes, dressed in a stylish black suit. His presence in the room instantly attracts attention. All the guys greeted Kazuhiro warmly, with the exception of you and Jungkook. Jungkook had never met the man in person, but he knew what kind of person he was from his friends.

You were introduced and you acted as confident as you could. But all these people around you, and especially Kazuhiro himself, made you feel tense inside.

Kazuhiro complimented you after unceremoniously looking you up and down. You thanked him shyly, squeezing Jungkook's elbow tighter. He, in turn, was holding back his emotions as best he could. So he the first dick to openly devour you with his eyes. Jimin, seeing Jungkook's eyes, decided to calm his friend down.

"Yes, she is indeed a beautiful Kazuhiro. She's Jungkook's fiancée." - Jungkook was taken aback, but since he was a professional at keeping his emotions in check, his face didn't show any confusion, which is more than you can say. You opened your mouth, but almost instantly closed it.

"Really?" - Yamada asked. "What a pity I don't have a chance." - Kazuhiro said with feigned disappointment. He spoke Korean well, by the way. Although everyone else spoke to him in Japanese, including Jimin, only when it came to introducing you and Jungkook did they switch to Korean. You blushed again, and Jungkook's jaw muscles pulsed.

"Yes. You don't stand a chance, dickhead," - Jungkook thought. But he just smiled tensely without saying anything. He looked at Jimin in mental gratitude. Jimin winked at Jungkook.

After you were introduced, champagne was served and you and Jungkook went to Taehyung and Hoseok’s place. The guys were talking to each other and you were just looking around. Sometimes you would hear broken phrases like "they have to convince him", "we have a better position", "the appointment time is tomorrow".

The music was loud and interrupted the general din. Your eyes ran over the people around you. The women were dressed up and wore expensive jewelry. Men in stylish suits look businesslike. There are also young people around your age, even children.

You look around at these people and catch a few studying glances. You feel very nervous and uncomfortable. You wonder why these people invited Jimin. And how did you end up here?

Some more time passes. New guests arrive at the restaurant. They all go to greet the host of the party first, and then disperse around the room. As you take another sip of champagne, you notice the new guests. You cannot believe what you are seeing.

Doohoon is wearing an expensive dark brown suit with a chain. His hair is perfectly styled, very similar to Jungkook's. He is walking hand in hand with a girl. She is tall, but despite the fact that she is wearing heels, she is still shorter than Doohoon. Her figure is perfectly emphasized by a black silk dress with a deep V-neck and an open back. A thin string of stones stretched from her neck to her waist. It was clear that she was Korean.

Doohoon immediately caught your eye. When you made eye contact, he immediately put on that awful, stupid smile you had come to hate.

You reflexively grabbed Jungkook's sleeve, unconsciously seeking protection. Jungkook looked up from his conversation and saw that you were scared. He followed your gaze and his anger knew no bounds. The asshole is here. But what puzzled Jungkook the most was the girl walking next to Doohoon. He looked at her and couldn't understand why she was here. What the hell this girl do there?

Doohoon and his companion greeted Yamada. You could see Jimin and Jin, who were standing next to Kazuhiro Yamada, staring at Doohoon. He shook hands with them in a low-key greeting. You turned away the moment you realized that Doohoon and his girlfriend were heading towards you.

"Jungkook, he seems to be coming to us." - You turned to your friend and saw that he was staring at them almost without blinking. You raised your eyebrows wondering what was going on.

"What an unexpected meeting, isn't it?" - You heard Doohoon's voice behind you. You had been looking at Jungkook the whole time. You noticed that he was looking at someone.

When you turned to know who he was looking at, you realized that he was looking at the girl in the black dress. She was also looking only at Jungkook. Their gazes made you feel nauseous and your heart beat faster.

"Well, hello, champ." - She says casually. You feel like you've been struck by lightning. What did she just call him?

Jungkook doesn't react to her words or greet her back. He stares at her a little longer and then turns his gaze to Doohoon. Taehyung and Hoseok, who were nearby, watched quietly.

"What a thing to do. To fly so many miles from Korea and see the same faces." - Doohoon says. You look at him with disdain. "Hello, candy. It's good to see you." - You want to snap back at him for calling you that again, but Jungkook interrupts you.

"What's she doing here with you?" - He asks dryly. You freeze at the sound of his voice. It's so hard and cold.

"Do you see how round the world is, my friend? Ha Young was once your girlfriend, but now she's my companion." - Doohoon says casually. You're shocked. This girl is Jungkook's ex? No wonder he's looking at her like that. But why the hell is she here with Doohoon?

"I asked, why is she here?" - Jungkook asks irritated. His eyes are filled with pure anger.

"That's not nice, Jungkook. Where are your manners?" - For the second time, Doohoon ignores Jungkook's question. "Candy, I'd like you to meet Ha-young, she's my friend. Ha Young is Y/N, she's a friend of mine and Jungkook's from school." - The two of you finally make eye contact. You look at her indifferently, and she looks at you with interest.

"Nice to meet you." - She says sweetly as she extends her hand to you. You stare at her hand for a few seconds and don’t shake it.

"I can't say the same." - Ha Young smiles and takes her hand away. "Are you spying on us Doohoon again?" - Now your eyes are on your former friend. "You couldn't just wait until Jungkook and I got back to Korea. Why did you fly all the way here?" - You said gloatingly. Taehyung and Hosuk look at each other, this conversation could end badly.

Doohoon laughs at your words. He looks down at the floor and then back up at you.

"Sweetie, I actually flew to Japan to work and establish relationships with partners and oversee the transportation of very valuable devices. Because I have information that someone is trying to steal them." - He says and looks at Jungkook. Jungkook can barely control himself. That fucking bastard. He will strangle him with his own hands. He knows why Jungkook is here and will try to stop him from taking the devices. But it was this bastard who stole them from him.

You watch this with your eyes and feel the tension cover you all. You can almost physically feel it. Just in time, Hoseok intervenes and stands between Doohoon and Jungkook.

"Hey Doohoon, why don't you just go and enjoy the party?" - Hoseok suggests. Doohoon looks over at Hoseok.

"Yeah, buddy, it looks like we're not going to have a normal dialog. Have a nice evening." - Doohoon says to all of you. "Ha Young, let's go." - He calls his girlfriend and leaves. Jungkook also turns around and wants to leave, but his ex stops him. She grabs his arm and he stops. You see this and think you're going to die of jealousy, but your face is emotionless.

"Kook... I'd like to talk to you." - She says in the sweetest voice in the world. You feel yourself start to tremble. Your heart is beating against your chest with incredible force.

Jungkook pulls his hand out almost instantly. He turns and looks at his ex.

"We have nothing to talk about." - He says coldly.

"There are." - She replies desperately. "I wish I could explain to you why I'm here." - She says in a desperate voice. You watch this picture and think you've had enough. You want to leave. Too bad the only way is through them. When you pass Jungkook, he's the one who grabs your hand. You stop when he doesn't let you go. You look at him and your eyes radiate anger and irritation.

"Don't move away from Taehyung and Hoseok." - Jungkook orders you. This confirms that he is going to talk to his ex-girlfriend after all. You pull your hand out and say aggressively.

"I don't need bodyguards. I can take care of myself. Make fun to talk." - That's the last thing you say and you walk away. Jungkook wants to follow you. He can't leave you alone knowing that Doohoon is so close. It doesn't matter that there are many people here, he will be able to hurt you if Jungkook is not there. Just as he's about to follow you, Hoseok stops him.

"Talk. We'll be there for her." - He taps Jungkook on the shoulder and he and Taehyung leave Jungkook with Ha Young.

You walk quickly and don't see anyone in front of you. You're overcome with anger, jealousy, and abuse. How did this piece of shit get here? Is he really some kind of stalker? Shay brought Jungkook's ex. Of course, in typical Jungkook fashion, you know nothing about her. She's beautiful, and Jungkook such looked at her that way. Did he really love her? Why did they break up? Could there still be feelings between them? These thoughts tore at your head. You wanted to go somewhere. Somewhere no one could see or hear you.

Before you knew it, you were at the bar. You sit down on a stool. You think you should get drunk. It might make things easier. Hoseok and Taehyung stayed in the hall. They decided that they would watch you from a short distance.

You ordered a cocktail with strong sake at the bar and drank it in one gulp. The bartender who made the cocktail for you was shocked.

"One more!" - You say in Japanese. The sake is strong and you instantly feel the alcohol spreading throughout your body. You decide to drink the next one more slowly. When you get another cocktail, you savor it slowly. You're glad that Hoseok or Taehyung didn't sit down with you. You really want to be alone.

You take your phone out of your purse and scroll through your Instagram feed. You think about posting a couple of stories and photos to your profile and showing off the local beauty of Niseko. Some time has passed.

Your phone distracted you because you didn't notice someone sitting next to you. When you turned your head a little to the side, you saw someone sitting next to you with a peripheral vision. Doohoon. He's sitting next to you again. No one is around except the bartender who hands him a shot of whiskey.

"Grieve, candy?" - He asks with a sweet smile. You are a little nervous about his presence. You're scared, because this man has been watching you. Why he always somehow ends up in the same place as you? You look around at the people and try to find someone familiar among them. But all your friends are gone. Jungkook is nowhere to be seen either.

"You shouldn't look for your friends. Don't be afraid. I won't hurt you." - Your ex-friend says with care in his voice. He says it so sincerely that you believe him for a moment. But in reality, it's not his words that make you relax. It's the thought that there are a lot of people here, people such people in front of whom Doohoon will not even touch you with a finger.

"I'm not afraid of you. I've never been afraid of you. You know damn well I can kick your ass." - You say colorlessly. Doohoon laughs. He takes a sip of whiskey and sets the glass down on the bar.

"I know." - He says. Doohoon is silent for a few more seconds and then his voice cuts through the silence. "You're such a beautiful tonight." - He says dreamily. You look at him sharply. You don't need his compliments.

"What do you want?" - You ask tiredly. "Why did you follow me and Jungkook?"

"I felt like I had to." - Doohoon replies, and you don't understand what he's talking about.

"What do you mean?" - You ask another question to understand what he's saying. Doohoon remains silent. He looks at the glass of whiskey in his hand and then raises it to his lips and takes a few small sips.

"Does he fuck you well?" - He throws out his question instead of answering yours. You're stunned and frozen. You remain silent, not wanting to answer him. It is absolutely none of his business.

"I think you like it. I know what all the girls who had sex with him said. Every single one of them says he's amazing in bed." - Doohoon says, laughter escaping his lips. "His ex, Ha Young, told me that too. She said no one ever fucked her better than him." - You hear these words and your insides tingle. Your internal organs feel like they're being stirred with a spoon. It becomes difficult to breathe. Why is this idiot telling you all this? You decide not to say anything in response. Because it seems that if you open your mouth, you'll vomit on Doohoon from the anger and jealousy that's making your head spin. You cover your mouth with the cocktail.

"Y/N!" - Doohoon calls to you. You turn your eyes to him. "I wasn't stalking you. I've liked you since high school. That's why when I found out you were living with Jungkook, I was scared for you." - He says. You again freeze, but this time at his words. You think you're crazy or something. Does Doohoon like you? Since high school? It can't be! And why is he scared of you living with Jungkook? Because he's afraid you're in love with Jungkook and he doesn't have a chance?

"Why are you scared?" - You ask, ignoring his confession of affection. He laughs bitterly because he noticed that you didn't say anything about it. You're always thinking about your Jungkook. Then he will tell you who your "best friend" really is.

"He's got you so blinded by good sex that you can't see what kind of person he is. He is so good at hiding who he really is. You have to applaud him for that." - Says Doohoon. "When I found out you were living with him, I thought I would just protect you from a distance. But when I found out you were fucking, I was shocked. I'll be honest with you, my heart was broken. I knew that if you guys were sleeping together now, you might fall in love with Jungkook. But he's dangerous. Because of what he does and who he has become, you could be in danger. Therefore, I decided to appear at this time." - You hear all these words and you can't understand why Jungkook could be dangerous to you. He's your Jungkook. It is Doohoon who is dangerous to you, as Jungkook said, not the other way.

"What the hell are you talking about?" - You get angry. "How is he dangerous to me?" - Doohoon is dramatically silent. He can't wait to see the look on your face when you hear what he has to say.

"Did he tell you what he does for a living?" - Doohoon asks you with fake desperation in his voice.

"He said it's some kind of security service that protects influential people." - You answer. "If you're trying to tell me about the guns, that he uses them, I know. That doesn't make him dangerous to me." - Doohoon is glad you don't know who Jungkook really is. His star time has come. He puts on his most dramatic voice.

"Y/N, he works for the mafia. He's Namjoon's attack dog. The boss of the RUN NOIR clan." - Doohoon says. He sees your eyes and can't get enough of the frightened look in them.

"The mafia?" - You repeat quietly. Doohoon nods to confirm your words. You suddenly laugh. Loud and hysterical. "You. Have you fallen off the wagon, you idiot? What the fuck is the mafia?" - You ask. Doohoon raises his eyebrows.

"Don't you believe it?" - Dohun asks you in turn. "Y/N it's definitely true. I'm telling you. Namjoon is this man who is constantly demanding money from my father. He controls all the transit points and ports. That's why I know it well and I'm telling you for sure. Jungkook is working for Namjoon's clan because them used to come together to extort money from my father." - Doohoon is lying to convince you. You hear the name Namjoon and remember Jimin saying his name on the phone. He called him the boss. Does this mean that Jimin is also working for the mafia?

You instantly put everything together in your head: the guns, the expensive car, the expensive clothes, the expensive hotel with the presidential suite. The constant concealment of the truth, his absence for three years and now almost for days, strange bruises on his body, wounds on his face and hands. All this suggests that Doohoon is telling the truth. And as icing on the cake, you remember Jungkook's words during today's quarrel. "From myself." - He said when you asked him what he was protecting you from by hiding everything about his life.

You couldn't move, unable to say anything. You were so shocked that you were speechless.

"You see everything yourself. He is dangerous to you because he tortures people, extorts money, or worse, kills them." - Says Doohoon . You don't say anything because you don't know what to say. Doohoon touches your hand. Five minutes ago, you would have rejected his hand. But now you sit there completely devastated. This is not what you dream of hearing on Christmas.

"Candy, I have a Christmas present for you. Let me show you." - Doohoon says and takes your hand. You feel like you are in another space.

Doohoon is leading you by the hand between people and no one is paying attention to you. No one sees him leading you somewhere. Not Jimin, not Taehyung, not Hoseok, not Jin. None of them see you next to Doohoon.

You don't know how much time you spend on the road. You just go. When you get to the room, it's the room in front of the toilet, and you see a picture that finally kills you. Through the clear glass of the door to the room, you see Jungkook standing next to his ex-girlfriend. She leans to kiss him. And she did it on your eyes.

"Merry Christmas." - Doohoon whispers in your ear, but you can't hear him. Because the noise in your ears and the frantic beating of your heart drown out any words.

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[ohmanareyoucereal9]

Across the Universe (deer!reader x Chris)

*ೃ༄ contents: smut, friends to fwb, sub!reader, softdom!Chris x deer!reader , slowburn, substance usage, fingering, multiple fem!orgasms, squirting, high sex, aftercare, some fluff, no use of y/n, proofread

wc: 4.7k

✰ a/n: this WILL be a series fic, just to lyk. also guys i get that this is quite a niche thing to put into a character au esp for Chris who loves hip hop and rap but i just love the idea of it sm, i hope you guys enjoy. <3

this is loosely inspired by @darksturnz artist!chris character au !

Art school. Hell on earth, you might call it. You came off as an odd soul to others, you always have. Ever since kindergarten. You struggled to make friends with anyone in your class, not that you cared that much, you were used to the isolation.

Around the start of high school, you realised that you didn’t need friends, you made yourself believe they were a waste of time, but deep down, your heart was aching for some sort of special, genuine connection with someone.

You stood right beside the tracks waiting for your train to arrive. This is a new experience for you entirely.

You were content with riding your bike to school everyday, until just a few days ago you stumbled off a curb a bit too aggressively and ended up scraping your knee pretty bad, leaving a gnarly patch of missing skin on your leg that you tried your best to conceal with a large square plaster, bulging weirdly out of proportion in contrast to your cool skin, a pool of purple green bruises surround the wound.

But what upset you the most was the chain broken and the brakes in shambles. You can’t ride your bike for a while, not until it’s repaired.

You start fidgeting your fingers and feet, unsure of how to keep yourself busy while waiting. The grainy and muffled noise of your music blaring in your wired earphones could be heard from miles away. You then start to rummage through your auburn brown rucksack. Again, trying to make yourself look busy.

You were the type of person to overthink every little thing. When your stomach rumbles a little too loud, you panic and wonder if anyone overheard, using your card at the cash register, being too indecisive whether to insert or tap it. And like now, you’re too worried that you look like an idiot standing still, waiting for the train to come.

You start to nibble at the rugged skin around your nails as you disassociate into your own little world, thanks to your music. 

“Your music’s a little loud, kid” a dry, supple voice snaps you out of the imaginary dream land you were just in, it makes you jump slightly. You hastily go to grab one of the buds out of your ear and shift your head to see Chris standing there, giving you a lazy smile.

You wouldn’t call Chris your friend. You wouldn’t call anyone that. He was also quite a lonely individual at art school. Which confuses you since you always thought he had such a peculiar charisma to him, and he seemed snarky and confident. You’re not so certain that he cares that much though, like you.

You’re one of the only people he speaks to properly, besides a few acquaintances that he sits next to in class. He gave you his phone number just in case you needed something from him, like help with notes and such.

Chris’ art was beautiful, they really captured all of the right emotions in one single piece. It made you admire him, look up to him like a role model. You were never open about that to him though.

Chris had always had this attraction to you, whether it was platonic or not he always found you so interesting.

The way you always kept to yourself, never spoke up unless asked to, when you sometimes crotchet in pure distilled silence during lectures you had together, your shyness, although you have no fear in killing your hearing by blasting your tunes until your cochlea was about to explode through your worn out earphones. It’s what made you so appealing to him.

You were weird, sure. You had a few peculiar interests that most wouldn’t have, but he liked that about you. He enjoyed having you around.

“Oh, hi Chris” you speak shyly, just slightly above a whisper. You struggle to find eye contact with Chris as your back to staring down, tangling your fingers together nervously. “Hey doll, never thought I'd see you here. You’re always on your little bike” he chuckles softly.

You come to the realisation that Chris has to travel by train. It makes you wonder how close or far he must live from school, maybe somewhere close to you. “My bike broke. I'm taking the train until it’s repaired” you mumble almost incoherently. Your lips barely move to enunciate the vowels and consonants falling out of your mouth.

“Oh, that’s a shame” Chris replies, studying the assorted freckles on your face without trying to make it look too obvious. There’s an awkward, jarring silence between the two of you. It's deafening to say the least.

“What’re you listening to anyway? From what I heard, it sounded nice” he inquired, snapping the uneasy feeling from the quiet. His voice was low and casual, the slight smirk on his face shifts into a kind beam. “J-just Fiona Apple” you mutter.

You’re not sure why, but Chris makes you so nervous whenever he’s around. With others, you’re just distant, emotionally unavailable.

Chris however, makes you feel a weird tingling sensation all around your sternum. Like a cocoon blooming into a hive of butterflies fluttering through your ribcage. 

“Ooh, I've never heard of her before. Y’gotta put me on her songs” his voice pours out nice and smooth like silk. The request makes your face flush reddish pink and you twist your head around, completely concealing your embarrassment from him.

Quickly after, you turn back to face Chris and look up at him for a split second through your long mascaraed eyelashes.

“Sure, I can do that” you mumble, a smile creeping up your mouth. Chris’ eyes widen at the subtle but rare sighting of something of a positive expression on your face, which makes his mouth curl into a toothy grin.

“Wow, was that… a smile?” he looks down at your figure, he examines how your chest quickly rises and falls to match the timid giggle at his dry but charming sarcastic joke. 

You turn your head to fully face Chris, switching in between his icy blue irises to the train rapidly approaching. “After class, I'll put on one of my main playlists for you. I-i’ll maybe show you more than fiona apple” your voice slowly transforms from a hushed, mousy tone to almost a shout as the train finally comes to a screeching halt.

“Sounds like a plan, you have my number, don’t you? Message me, we can link after class. We can take the train back to my place” he yells, trying to make himself heard to you over the noise of everyone’s footsteps clamoring close to hop on the train.

You opened your mouth to interject and speak up but the doors of the train were already open, Chris swiftly turned forward, breaking the stare he held upon you the entire time you waited together to step on the train. You quickly followed before the doors closed. You decided to give up on trying to debate, you’re going over to Chris’ house.

Class was over, finally. The thought of spending time with Chris at his house so suddenly after only being strictly acquainted jumbled up your thoughts completely. You rub at your forehead and muddle your bangs about as some kind of way to shake the nerves off.

You don’t know why you’re so anxious about the whole idea. It was just a friendly hang out with Chris. Just a friendly hang out with Chris.

You rush to pack all of your pens and pencils back into your rucksack and speed out of the classroom with a gallop in your step. You’re scrambling for your phone after you push your portfolio into your locker to text Chris that your class is over and that the two of you can meet now.

‘i’m out now, where shall we meet?’

read at 12:32 PM

‘meet me outside of the courtyard, i’ll take you home with me afterwards :)’

You’re stuck waiting awkwardly again, until you see Chris’ figure come into your frame of vision. He gives you a benign smile which makes your eyes light up ever so slightly. He nods his head up faintly as a sort of “Hey” gesture. You look up at him with a gentle shimmer in your stare as he approaches you.

“Hey doll, ready to go?” you missed hearing his deep, raspy voice. It had only been a few hours, but you longed to hear it again. You loved the slight growl he adorned in his vowels when he spoke. It was almost primal.

You never thought about it much, but you thought a lot of the things Chris did ever so naturally, were quite attractive. “Yeah, I'm ready”

The two of you stroll side by side in yet another awkward silence. Chris drifts his eyes elsewhere to the foreground of hedged bushes. You however, soaked up the sound of both of your footsteps trudging into the crunchy gravel below.

“So, how come you’re so quiet, kid? I rarely hear you speak. And you’re always on your own at lunch” Chris pipes up. The question snaps you back into reality. Mostly because you were miles away, but also because no one has ever really asked you that question wholeheartedly, just slightly concerned teachers and patronising bullies.

“I-i don’t really know… I don’t have a lot to talk about with others, I guess” your voice is ever so soft to Chris’ ears. “Oh come on, don’t give me that shit. You’re more interesting than that” he scoffs. “‘You think so?” your eyes wide and dilated with curiosity.

“I know so, you need to stop putting yourself down like that. You’re cool”

The whole portrayal of the compliment makes your heart pound inside your chest, enough to make your rib cage rattle. There’s an airy feeling in your stomach which almost makes you feel sick, but not the bad kind. It tells you that you’re enjoying yourself and that you’re excited for what’s to come next.

“How…how about you then? I don’t see you with many people at school either” The question he’s heard oh, too many times, similar to your predicament.

“Ehh, I just don’t fuck with big groups of people like that” he seems truly careless by the way his expression doesn’t move one bit. Whereas you, a feeling of hurt lingers in the hollowness of your bones whenever people stray away from you with looks of disgust. It makes you go green with envy.

You soon make it to the station, no later than that you step on the train alongside Chris. The two of you sat next to each other on one row, your shoulders ever so slightly touching every now and again.

Chris rests into a manspread as soon as he sits, though he makes sure he’s not taking up too much space, for your sake.

You take your wired earphones out of your knitted cardigan pocket to prop the right one in your ear and the left leering around Chris’ face, offering it to him. To which he gladly accepts. He has to inch slightly closer to not put tension on the wires between you two, making his shoulders touch yours indefinitely.

You scroll through your playlists to spot the one you were playing in the early morning. You scroll through the songs to play ‘Across the Universe’ by Fiona Apple.

The somber guitar playing makes you sink into your seat as your head sways to the window beside you, gawking at the grey sky and green and orange pine trees zooming by. You sing the mellow lyrics of Fiona’s winsomely but quietly, perfectly in key. Leaving Chris in a trance.

While you’re looking away, he takes the chance to admire every little thing about you. Your pouty lips smudged with lipstick. The way your ears perk out slightly from underneath your lively, beautiful locks, your collarbones migrating with every rise and fall of your chest, your nail polish chipping off into funky patterns as you fidget with your fingers and bite the cracked, outgrown ends off your nail bed.

The song comes to a close and fades into nothing. You go to press pause before the next song in the queue plays.

“So, what did you think?” your irises huge with passion as you turn to Chris. Who was whacked back into the real world after being heavily enthralled by just your existence.

“It was beautiful, very you” Chris beams a cute smile. Your expression lights up, enough for Chris to notice. He knows you don’t know how to take compliments, but he at least knows your expression is somewhat readable so he knows how you’re feeling. 

Chris soaks in the moment and stares down at your lips again, before snapping his eyes up to meet yours. “Not long until our last stop” you maunder.

Chris sighs to himself and rubs his eyes with a quick “yep.” He offers your earphone back as you both stand up and wait for the train to break into a complete stop after a few seconds.

You both hop off and you twist around to find your pocket to put your earphones back in. Chris leers at you with both of his hands in his pockets, waiting patiently as you fix yourself up before walking again all the way to his house.

After natural and laid-back chit chat during slow walking, you finally reach Chris’ house. The door was a dark forest-y green. Which you found quite pleasing to look at.

Chris shuffles in his pockets to obtain his house keys, they jangle about as he carelessly swings it into the keyhole of his door to unlock it. He pushes the door open by grasping the knob and twisting it. He turns to you and beckons you with a sway of his head, manoeuvring you to come inside first before him.

Chris clamours up the stairs and you follow like a lost puppy behind him. He lazily nudges his bedroom door open with his shoulder and face plants into the bed, twisting his head to the side after a minute to let out an exasperated sigh.

You invite yourself to sit on his bed in proper etiquette form, unsure of what to do with yourself while Chris lays still for a second.

He kicks his shoes off and reaches out to his bedside table to grab a small, ceramic pot with psychedelic patterns embroidered into the pottery.

He pops open the lid to take out half a joint. He extends his hand back into his pocket to have a lighter in his grasp whilst the other hand places the butt of the joint right into the opening of his mouth.

You simply do or say nothing but watch. Your eyes follow the way his hands cup the lighter before he realises he needs your approval to smoke.

“Shit- uhm, are you okay with me smoking, doll? I won’t if you don’t want me to” he purrs in a sympathetic tone, half his words muffled by the spliff clasped between his lips. “Oh, no, I don't mind at all. Do as you please”

It was strange because you genuinely didn’t care about him smoking in front of you. You weren’t the type to judge people to do such unfaithful things, like doing drugs, however whenever you were talking to someone who was vaping and they had the audacity to blow it all in your face, making you cough. Yeah, that made you seethe.

But Chris was different. It didn’t surprise you that he smoked, of course. You’re unsure of what this feeling was, but there’s a strange comfort in seeing Chris trust you enough to where he wants to smoke weed in front of you. It made you feel warm seeing Chris in a somewhat vulnerable state.

“D-do you live on your own, Chris?” you inquire, you noticed that no one was home to greet him when you first came in.

“Yeah, I moved out of my family home as soon as I turned 18. Nothing personal, it was just a spur of the moment thing, I guess. I had a ton of money saved up ever since I was, what, like… 14? And I wanted to live closer to art school, so…” he rambles, mumbling with the joint still in his mouth, clicking the lighter alight. Taking the smoke into his lungs.

He pinches the roach out of his mouth as he exhales. A cloud of smoke lingers and the scent of marijuana invades your senses. You don’t complain much though. You think it smells quite pleasant.

He stretches his hand out towards you, blunt in hand. “Want some?” his eyes already low and bloodshot red with that same faint smile plastered on his face. 

You hesitate, you glance at Chris’ red orbs then back down to the joint. “J-just one puff. And then I'm done” you snatch the roach off of Chris and take a long drag. You were unsure of how much to take in. A good bunch of the joint fell into your lap in ashes from the amount you took.

“Hey! ‘Fuck you doin’ kid, are you trying t’green out on purpose?” he hisses, plucking the joint from out of your hand. A vast amount of smoke comes seeping out of your mouth and you hum in ecstasy.

“Oh…wow…” you exhale in awe. It hits you like a ton of bricks. Your mouth goes dry and you let out a raspy but loud giggle at Chris’ scolding from earlier.

“Your Bostonian accent comes out a lot when you’re pissed” you snorted, your cheeks hurting from the huge gleam on your face, your high eyes wrinkled. Showing your full set of pearly whites to him. You’re not used to smiling this much.

Chris’ bothered expression softened into a smirk that he tried to hide with a hushed “shut up.” looking away, indistinctly laughing at your snarky, non-sober remarks.

“How did you even know I was from Boston anyway? I haven’t told anyone that shit. ‘You been stalking me? Hm?” he snarls slyly. Squinting his eyes at you with a smirk.

“Uh, no. I just know what a Boston accent sounds like. Don’t flatter yourself” you snap back smiling whole-heartedly, lightly punching Chris’ arm. He fakes being hurt with a hyperbolised “ow…”

You both chuckle at each other’s jokes until it eventually dies down, you rest your head against the wall staring at Chris with your huge blood-like optics. The drug melted away all of your timidness from before, making your nature more carefree in front of Chris. He doesn’t complain though.

You were only inches away from Chris’ stature. You took in all of his features.

His flaky lips that ran dry from cotton mouth, no thanks to the drug. His stubble that rests on the sharp ridges of his cheekbones. His adam’s apple bobbing up and down every time he swallowed. As you soaked in all of his devilish features, you took in your bottom lip in between your teeth. He looked too good to be true.

“It’s rude to stare like that, doll” he coos, inching his body closer and closer to you. You were centimetres away from him. The tip of his nose nearly grazing yours.

“Chris..” you confide, you’re breathless just by sitting still. Chris’ musky, natural scent mixed with the weed drives your head spinning. He replies with a sultry “Hmm?” with a slow tilt of his head.

It was like a time bomb ticking inside of your head. Everything about Chris made you burn up, and you were ready to explode at any second.

All at once, your body moves on its own. Your head rushes forward and your lips clash into his. His body was taken aback by the sudden manoeuvre, his hands knuckled into his sheets behind him. You’re kneeling in between his legs, smothering light kisses on his now wet lips.

No sooner than later, Chris’ shock simmers down. He reciprocates your movements and the intimate moment shifts into a sloppy makeout session. Both of your heads tilting between clumsy kisses to find easier access to one another’s lips.

His slick tongue slips through your lips, prodding at your teeth to invite himself in, which you accept dearly. The warmth of the muscle twisting inside your mouth makes your breath hitch inside your throat and you whine into the soaking kiss. 

“Fuck, I’ve been wanting to do this ever since I laid eyes on you. You’re just too cute” Chris sighs, lightly pushing your body back. Your back fully resting into the mattress. The instant motion makes you gasp. Chris reaches for one of your hands and intertwines his fingers with yours, his palm resting on your own.

“‘You okay with this, baby? We can go slower if you’d like” he purrs.

His body fully towering over yours which makes you blush and attempt to look away. His stubble tickling the tender skin on your face, the feeling of his hot breath making you shiver. You say nothing, you simply feed your bottom lip in between your teeth.

Unsure of what to say. Your clasp on Chris’ hands tightens. Telling him that you want to keep doing whatever this was. 

Chris moves his knee to rest in between your legs intentionally. He smirks into a sloppier kiss than before. Your tongues twirl and swivel together. Chris whines into your mouth at the sensation. Making the sickly stir you had in your stomach pool down to your folds. Your clit almost forms a heartbeat of its own.

He instinctively reaches up your skirt and you pant breathlessly as your lips are still connected with his. Chris lets go of your hand to adjust himself, he plops down on the mattress next to you. Hand still up your skirt.

The pads of his fingertips rest on the waistband of your panties. Before he takes any more action, he asks for your reassurance and consent. “Do you still wanna do this, doll?”

You nod briskly with a whiny “Yes” full of desperation.

Chris’ enamels sink into his bottom lip, a tent starting to form inside his jeans just at the sight of you vulnerable like this. Aching and twitching for any kind of friction.

He starts rolling his hips lazily against your thigh as he dips his fingers into your panties and sinks them into your slick heat. You let out a loud whimper from the sudden euphoria pulsing all around in between your legs.

“Fuckkkk. Wet already, baby? You jus’ couldn’t help yourself, could you” He coos, peppering a light kiss on your sweaty temple.

Chris swipes his fingertips on your clit swiftly. Your back arching and your hips bucking up, begging for more pressure on your swollen bundle of nerves. You feel Chris’ rock hard cock poking into your thigh through the denim. You hear his breath shudder with faint whimpers every time he presses into your leg, making your slippery cunt wetter and wetter by the second. 

Chris slips his middle finger inside the opening of your sloppy pussy. Your body jolts as the pleasure is like electricity zapping across your nerve endings.

“Oh my god” you sobbed. Chris groans low and tired out as he sticks his ring finger inside and curls them upwards, feeling the slight roughness of your tender g spot makes his tip leak a clear liquid through his boxers, seeping into the rough fabric of his pants.

“Chris…” you whimper helplessly, melting into his touch. “Shh… it’s okay baby, I know it feels good.”

His fingers flicking relentlessly inside your sloppy cunt makes your stomach tighten. He can’t help but take in how much you writhe under his touch.

Chris loved making you feel good. He didn’t need you to do anything to him, just seeing you drown in pleasure that he offers to you is enough to get him off. This was also quite an ego boost for him.

The mysterious weird girl, stone cold expression all day long. Keeping her distance from everyone. Her music on blast. Unable to hear the background noise that is her life that she despises so much, now a hot squirming mess just from Chris’ fingers inside her. And he fucking loved every second of it.

“I-i’m gonna cum” you cry out, the knot tangled in your stomach about to snap loose. Chris’ digits pistoning into your soppy heat with constant fervour tips you right over the edge.

“Yeah, c’mon baby. Cum for me. Cum for me like a good girl.” Before you knew it, your pussy twitched open from the release of Chris’ fingers. Spraying out a glistening liquid all over his hand and on his sheets. You let out a pained shriek at the extreme intensity of the orgasm that had just washed over you. Your limbs left shaking and your hips thud back into the soft mattress as you come back down from your high.

“Holy fucking shit… I never would’ve guessed you could squirt. Always the quiet ones, huh…”

Within an instant, you could feel Chris’ fingers push into your sensitive cunt again. Your eyes shoot open and your jaw falls slack, your mouth agape into an ‘o’ shape.

“I-I jus’ came…” you can barely enunciate words properly. The stirring of Chris’ fingers inside your pretty pink hole has you seeing the stars across the universe.

“I know baby, be a good girl f’me and cum again. I know y’got another one in you…” not long after, another orgasm creeps up from the lowest pits of your stomach shooting all the way up to the tip of your skull. Your delicious liquid makes a wet spot on Chris’ sheets once again. Your eyes rolling back whilst your hips shudder from the vigorous pleasure.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ sensitive for me baby, your pussy must feel so good right now huh.” he growls, flattering himself and you by the way you came almost instantaneously.

You peel your eyes open to view Chris sucking on his fingers, savouring your earthy taste. He whimpers with his fingers in his mouth, making a complete mess of himself with his spit smothered all over his puffy lips, before he pulls them out.

“Y’taste sooo fuckin’ good doll” he rasps out, pecking a sweet kiss on your lips. You whine into his mouth. The taste of your wetness lingering on his breath.

“I c-can’t do it anymore, I can’t cum no more…” you sigh. Tears brimming your eyes, staining the black mascara into your cheeks. Chris wipes away the wetness on your face as reassurance.

“Oh, c’mon doll… Just one more? Please, I can’t get enough of it, it’s so hot..” he pleads and begs. His words are velvety and slick, making your clit throb. 

You nibble the skin off of your lip and spread your thighs open once more. “Thanks baby, ‘ppreciate it.” He leaves another sweet kiss on the side of your face. Your bangs stuck in strings to your forehead beaded in sweat. Melting half your makeup off.

You looked like a mess. Chris enamored every little bit of it, though. He sinks his digits in, one last time. His cock ached at your teary eyes and the feeling of a pulse inside your puffy pussy. You reach to grab the fabric of Chris’ longsleeve.

“I really like you, Chris…” you murmur. Your voice is sultry but sweet, sticky like honey to Chris’ senses. “I like you too doll, I always have” he leans in once more to give you another tender kiss. This time, it was much more intimate.

Your free hand slithers through his brunette curls. His fingers crimp up inside your heat and you gasp in between kisses.

“I’m gonna cum again…!” You pull away from Chris’ face and grit your teeth. Your knuckles almost go white from clamping down onto Chris’ shirt so tight. “That’s a good girl. Cum f’me one last time…”

Before long, Chris had you cumming all over his bed and on his fingers for the third time. His sheets almost flooded in your liquid. Chris lets out a satisfied sigh as he’s proud of himself for making you cum three times in a row, that and the view he’s getting is fucking perfect.

Your mouth is like sandpaper, your bruised legs still shudders as you’re coming down from your third orgasm this evening.

“How was it, doll? Did I make you too tired?” you nod your head fervorously. Your eyes barely open with your face soaked with tears. You see Chris reach for a bottle of water in your peripherals.

“Drink up baby… you’re gonna need it” he feeds you the bottle as you sit up slightly. 

“Oh yeah, can you send me your playlist later, doll? I really enjoyed that song, as much as I enjoyed spending time with you” he brushes your sticky strands of hair out of your face and holds you in his arms, you roll into his embrace lazily. Your voice now replenished by the water Chris gave you.

“Yeah.”

*ೃ༄ a/n: oh my gosh i love this au sm i can’t wait to make a part 2 of this

I love you all sososososo much i love deer!reader soooo much

have a holly jolly christmas !

divider creds: @/cafekitsune, @/dollywons, @/fairytopea

[lunaritex]

𓏲࣪ ִֶָ ︎ִֶָ DRUNKEN WHISPERS 𖤐. — sim jaeyun

(*´▽`*) Ꮺ sim jaeyun + fem! reader non-idol au college/university au friends to lovers ᛝ warning cursing drinking partying drunken confession one kiss scene open ending so interpret it as how you would . . !? & 1249 — m.list

note. i've been itching to write something related to drunk confessions so yeah. also this is my first jake fic, hopefully i didn't messed up his character here. i might make a part two for this if this blew up hehe. and merry xmas! 🎄tagging @senascoooop

Ring, ring. Ring, ring. 

“Hello?” You picked up the ringing phone without checking the screen. Your desk was a sight to behold; a stack of books placed dangerously close to the edge of your desk with sheets of papers covering the surface. In the middle was your laptop, the blaring screen nearly blinding you. 

“Hey uh, do you mind coming over to pick Jake up? He’s drunk,” Heeseung said, sounding embarrassed. You could make out the faint booming music from the other line. 

“Again? Heeseung, this is the fourth time it has happened this week,” you sighed, already rising to your feet, swiping your phone, wallet and car keys off the table as you stepped out of your room.

You heard a laugh. “We tried to stop him, (Name) but you know how it always turns out.” 

You merely rolled your eyes, having known Jake long enough to visualise how the scenario played out. As far as you were aware, Jake was a persistent pillar in your life. You had known each other since you were toddlers, due to both of you being neighbours and how your mothers were friends too. Everywhere you went, he was sure to follow you. It was an endearing sight to behold for the public, like a puppy following its owner. 

“Whatever, I’ll be there in thirty minutes. In the meantime, please stop him from drinking again,” you replied, hanging the call after Heeseung texted you the location of where they were. 

It didn’t take you long to arrive at your destination and you stepped out of your car after parking it, able to hear the loud bass boosted music that grew louder as you got closer. Thankfully, you didn’t have to enter the club as you easily spotted Jake and the others seated outside. It was like Jake had heightened hearing, for he perked up at the sound of your approaching footsteps. His face lit up as he rose to his feet while swaying side to side, resulting in both Heeseung and Jay having to steady him. 

But Jake didn’t care. He staggered his way towards you, throwing his entire body weight on you. You would have fallen to the ground if you didn’t catch yourself in the nick of time. You scrunch your nose at the revolting stench of alcohol lingering on his body and you could smell it from his mouth too, much to your disgust. 

“(Name)~, I’ve missed you so much,” his words were borderline slurring, barely comprehensible but you were still able to make out what he said. 

Thankfully, Heeseung and Jay pulled him away from you, eliciting a pathetic whine from Jake who struggles to free himself. You, on the other hand, ran a hand through your hair. “How many did he drink?” You asked. 

“Uh, like seven?” Heeseung replied, earning a smack to the arm from Jay, who shot him a glare.

“Seven? And none of you tried to stop him?” You asked, exasperated. 

“Hey, we tried our best but he refused to listen to us. He only listens to you,” Jay pointed out, a knowing glint in his eyes; a glint that made you look away, ignoring how your stomach tightened. 

“I’ll take him home now then, I’ll see you guys next week,” you sighed, bidding them farewell as you threw Jake’s right arm around your shoulder, having to grip onto him to prevent him from falling forward or backward. The others see you off before returning to the club, wanting to get more drinks before heading home. 

Needless to say, it was a struggle trying to complete the short walk to your car. You had to support the weight of a fully-grown man who is drunk, all the while maintaining your balance. With some difficulty, you managed to overcome it. However when you were trying to fish for your keys, Jake thought it was a good idea to bury his face in the crook of your neck. You groaned when his abyssal-like hair blocked off a good portion of your view, making a simple task harder than it should be. 

“Jake, what are you doing?” You asked, trying to push his head away but it was futile. 

He whined, still able to move his limbs despite his current state. You froze when Jake wrapped his arms around your waist. Physical contact is a common thing in your friendship but something about the way his lips brushed against the sensitive skin of your neck caused goosebumps to form. You involuntarily shivered when he rubbed circles on your waist, through the fabric of your clothes. 

“Jake, seriously, stop this,” you said, your voice wavering at the end and it didn’t go unnoticed by him. 

“Noooo,” he whined, his hot breath grazing against your skin with every word he spoke. “I miss you so much.” 

“We literally meet every day, how can you miss me?” You sighed, finally pulling out your keys to unlock your car. You opened the backdoor, managing to get him in. 

Jake grabbed your wrist and before you could react, he tugged you down. You yelped, falling forward and thankfully, you didn’t hit your head against anything. You held yourself up in an awkward position, one knee digging into the car seat, one hand gripping onto the headrest of the driver’s seat while the other was pressed against the window in front of you. Your breath hitched in your throat when you realized just how close he was. 

You were so close that if one of you were to move, you would be kissing. You have always known Jake is attractive but it was another level to see his features up close. His eyes were windows to his soul. No matter how expressive he is or how he tries to hide his feelings, his eyes will never lie. And right now, you could detect nothing but pure love and adoration in them. It was enough to make you gulp nervously. 

“(Name), you’re so pretty. Wanna kiss you so bad,” he murmured, words no longer slurring and for a moment, you thought he had sobered up, only for him to giggle and the thought was washed down the drain. 

“Jake, enough. You’re not thinking straight,” you said, not wanting to ruin your many years of friendship. You didn’t want to let something as simple as your feelings for him ruin it. You tried to move away but his grip on your wrist tightened. 

“I’m telling the truth,” he whines, lips curling down in a pout. You were tempted to kiss him right there and then but you held yourself back. “Heeseung and the others know about how I’m madly in love with you. You’re always on my mind, no matter what I go. If only you know how crazy I am for you.” 

You were rendered speechless, taken aback by the utmost sincerity in his voice and the abrupt confession. Never in your life have you thought that your friend feels the same way. 

“Jake, I—!?” 

You weren’t given the chance to finish his sentence. Jake moved and with one smooth movement, he captured your lips in a kiss. You were too stunned to react and the kiss ended as fast as it started. He pulled away, looking into your eyes for a few seconds before passing out. All you could do was to openly gape at him, watching as he fell asleep, occupying the entire backrow of your car.  

What the fuck just happened? 

[isadelusions]

Daisuke [Mouthwashing]

| vlogger x editor(reader) au | fem reader | fluff | pt1 > pt2

┊͙ ⋆. ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･. ˚◞♡ ⃗*ೃ༄ ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･. ˚◞♡ ⃗*ೃ༄ ೃ࿔*:･. ˚◞♡ ⃗*ೃ༄┊͙

Pretty Duo hm?

- He’s been making videos for quite a while and hired an editor because he isn’t too experienced with editing.

- He makes a video pretty much every week, sends it to you, tells you some details he would for his video with a little, you’ll edit, sends the finished product, he loves it and post. Repeat.

- After a few weeks, the both of you started chatting with each other regularly,checking up on each other, talked about the similar hobbies you guys share, laughing at each other’s cringe roblox usernames. You guys even decided to have matching avatars.

-From chatting daily to having voice calls for random game nights to FaceTiming. You were shy at first to reveal your face but as time goes by, you eventually got comfortable with it. (Bro was gagged by your face card)

“I must be lucky to have a pretty editor like you. ;)” ,that line totally send butterflies to your stomach.

- One time he asked if you would like to be in a video and play roblox with him. At first you were quite hesitant since his number of followers were slowly rising and afraid that it would destruct his fans.

“Well if they start hating me, just let them. I rather have that then having some fake fans you know??” “Plus I’m just here to have fun so what can they do? Mhm?”

- After his reassurance, you agreed and record the video together online.

—— ✿ ——

“heyyy guysss I’m back again to play some roblox BUT this time with some company, guys act shocked act shocked,just kidding. Anyways this time I’ll be playing with my lovely editor~”, his screen showing both him and your avatar, waiting for you to introduce yourself.

There was a long pause. “Um…hi?” You said awkwardly as you don’t have much experience being recorded.

But after a while,you got used to it and the both of you decided to play some two player obbies. At first it was going smoothly, just simple jumps and walks. However, when you guys got closer to the end, the difficulty rises.

“DAISUKE PLEASE DONT MISS THE JUMP OR I MIGHT ACTUALLY BREAK. DOWN.”

“STOPP,YOUR STRESSING ME PRETTY GIRLL”

Your skin tingles every time he calls you that but it didn’t make you feel better. He indeed did miss the jump.

…a very long silence

“Alright,breathe in….and breathe out… We can do this..”

“I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s alright, let’s try one last time before I might actually start raging”

You guys were extremely locked in and passed the final stage miraculously.

“WE DID ITTT (y/n), YAYYY”

“EYY GOODJOBB”

You made your character walk in circles around daisuke’s character and he mirrors your actions too.

You then looked at the time to realise it took almost two hours to complete the obbies, it’s already 1am which is quite alright since we’re used to it but you suddenly remembered you had other ‘important’ plans in the morning and cut off daisuke’s next sentence.

“hmm what should we play next-”

“As much as I would love to continue this all with you but I really have to head to bed right now”

“Ouh finally sleeping quite earlier then usual, aren’t we?”

“well I do have plans for tomorrow, quite important to me heh..”

“Okayy then, have a good sle-” he then pauses, his mind recalling his previous chats with you and the puzzle pieces matched. “Wait, your going to that cat cafe you talked about right??? I do remember you sending me a post about it opening for tomorrow or more like ‘later in the morning’ hmm?”

“Yeaaa, oh wait I did told you about it.”

“Could I go with you,pleasee. It’s not too far from my area and plus you get to meet ‘this gorgeous cool guy’ for first time in your lifeee.”

You felt ??? by the sudden plan of his, “mhmmm sure I don’t mind honestly”

“wait really??” “Ofcourse”

“I’ll text you the details later before I head to bed, I gotta go get myself cleaned up. Do remember to send me the clips before heading to bed. Soo I’ll see you tomorrow then hm? ;)”

“Yupp, I’ll see ya tomorrow. Have a good sleep if it’s possible~”

“Alright, goodnight pretty boy” You immediately left the call and got up from your seat, heading to the bathroom to get a quick wash up.

The excitement for ‘tomorrow’ was rising in you but yet feeling nervous and curious. How tall would he be? Would his behaviour be completely different? The thoughts were filling up your mind.

You head to bed with your phone, texting him about the plans while your allow your body to lay on the bed,sheets covering your body, head against your soft pillow.

“How about we meet up at a metro station first? Then we could walk tgt to the cat cafe? How does that sound to you?”

“That sounds great to me;)”

Daisuke replied almost instantly and brought up about having matching outfits and of course you couldn’t turn that offer down.

“hmm let’s match in colours then?”

“Suree”

“Any colours in mind?”

“Hmm, not really”

“Me too honestly. How about I’ll choose it tmr while I pick my outfit hm?”

“Sure but don’t be too lateee”

“Says the one who rarely reads chats in the morning”

“Man shut it, as if you’ll wake up in time”

“Okay okay you win. I guess I gonna sleep now or I’ll be late right, pretty?”

“Alright, goodnight to you”

“Night to you as well”

A small smile plastered across your face as you place your phone onto the small table beside you.

It def took you almost like an hour to only fall asleep due to your own excitement.

-I can picture daisuke kicking his own legs before having his sleep lol

┊͙ ⋆. ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･. ˚◞♡ ⃗*ೃ༄ ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･. ˚◞♡ ⃗*ೃ༄ ೃ࿔*:･. ˚◞♡ ⃗*ೃ༄┊͙

I think it will take a long while for me to post parts for this,I’m still new to writing and honestly I’m scared I won’t be able to write the next part. Anyways I hope you guys had a little joy in reading this,take care of your health!loveyouu byee~ :o

[crunchystarz]

haiii I love your writing and esp your self aware au!

Do you think you can do one for your au with Riddle and mc where mc basically fusses over him (trying to do all the chores before and after work so he doesn’t have to even though he has nothing better to do, double checking for his needs/wants a lot) all the time like they’re trying desperately to keep a house plant alive even though he’s more than fine?? (If that makes ANY sense 😭)

thanks a bunch, take your time!🖤

Xo, Manny

"Take a break"

Self-aware!Riddle Rosehearts x GN!Reader

Cw- Reader honestly just overworking the self, fluff, oneshot

Word count: 1446

A/N: HII imma be so honest I hope I did this req right if not I beg your biggest pardon 🙂‍↔️(fancy voice), also while this is technically a yandere au this one is just Riddle getting reader prioritize their needs so, either way enjoy!

Riddle Rosehearts was always your favorite twisted wonderland character. Even so you never expected or could have prepared for him to not only gain Self-awareness but also become a real person.

Since he's started living with you, you felt the need to monitor him almost like a toddler. You're always cooking and cleaning for him , despite his constant protests. Yeah he can do everything himself he's fully capable but a part of you is so afraid that he'll break or something if you don't.

You would wake up early in the morning just to make sure everything was tidy and Riddle would have breakfast when he eventually woke from his slumber. You would always clean up after him even if he told you he was going to once he was finished.

You made sure he'd get sleep or drink enough water. Which would be fine if you yourself did the same. You're always so worried about if he's getting enough of something or if there was anything he wanted, yet when it came to you, you'd completely brush them off.

You stumbled through the door late at night. Riddle watched observantly from the couch, closing the book he was reading. His gray eyes followed you as you went to set the bags you held in your hands on the island surface.

“You're home rather late [Name] “ He spoke as he stood up, slowly making his way over to you. You just yawned and stretched out your stiff body. You could just feel his gaze on you.

“Yeah sorry they had me working late— yawn , you need anything? I could make you some dinner if you hadn't already or I could run you a bath” you responded trying to stay upbeat despite your clearly tired appearance.

Riddle shook his head. “No not at all you should sleep “ he spoke sternly, crossing his arms. You let out a tired giggle.

“Yeah yeah I will, after I finish cleaning up the kitchen — speaking of did you eat and drink today?”

The red head let out a sigh. You'd constantly worry about him, he was completely capable of taking care of himself, he wasn't a small child anymore and despite not being completely familiar with this world he wasn't stupid either.

“Yes, I did but from the looks of this you clearly haven't, ” You snickered a bit before shaking your head.

“Oh you worry too much, I've just had a busy night I'm fine” You replied, walking over to the other side of the island just to be stopped. You lazily tilted your head as Riddle held your wrist firmly.

“I already cleaned the kitchen while you were away” The house warden said, before gently guiding you away with a hand on your back.

“Great, I'll make us something to eat” you said, letting out a yawn. Riddle sighed before leaning you over to the couch.

“You shall do no such thing, now sit” He commanded, his voice stern. You blinked , but continued to sit anyway, not wanting to see what would happen if you didn't. The idea of him using his signature crosses your sleep deprived mind and it makes you shiver despite him ever using it on you since he got here.

“Riddle I'm fine I promise I just need to—”

“To what Collapse of exhaustion?” Riddle cut you off, his voice was pointed and full of authority. Much more serious than before “You're overworking yourself again, I'm more than capable of taking care of everything so just relax” he continued, expression softening at your tired state.

You groaned and laid back against the couch cushions. You felt a little guilty. He was the one teleported into a different world. You should be the one taking care of him and all his needs, not the other way around.

Riddle moved around the kitchen with ease. You watched as the red head got on his tippy toes to grab one of your mugs from the cabinets. You wanted to tell him you could do it for him but you just knew he'd protest. You slumped into the couch more.

He was quick to take the kettle off the stove once it started to hiss softly. He carefully poured the hot water into the cup. Riddle was observant and made sure to add just the right amount of sweetness. It had to be perfect. Once satisfied he set the tea down to go find the cookies he had made earlier.

He had a lot of time to spend when you were gone after all. He made his way way over to you, gray eyes watched as you perked up at the sight of the sweets.

“You didn't have to rea—”

“Don't start “ The house warden cut you off. He handed you the cup, carefully so you wouldn't burn your hands. He placed the cookies on the coffee table before sighing.

“You seriously work yourself to exhaustion and still proceeded to worry about me, it's foolish if you ask me” Riddle said, placing his hands on his hips. You looked down at the warm liquid in your mug thinking for the right words.

“It's just, I'm supposed to take care of you , I owe you that at least you know… “ you mumbled before taking a sip of the tea.

“You owe me nothing, I am not a child who needs to be protected, I am not fragile and neither are you however “ He pauses for a moment looking down at you. “You can become fragile if you do not upkeep yourself “

You opened your mouth to respond;to protest, but Riddle held up a hand to stop you.

“I am not ungrateful,” he spoke out, his voice softening yet still stern.“I appreciate everything you’ve done since I arrived here.You’ve given me a home, patience, and care that I could never have expected. But…” He hesitated, his gray eyes searching your face for a moment before he continued. “...You can’t give all of that to me at the expense of yourself.”

You blinked at him, a little stunned by the depth of his words. “Listen I’m not—”

“You are,” Riddle interrupted firmly, leaning slightly closer. “You work late, come home, and immediately worry about whether I’ve eaten or rested, yet you neglect your own needs. Do you think I don’t notice? I’ve seen you skipping meals, staying up far too late cleaning, and leaving your own tasks undone to take care of mine.”

You frowned, shifting uncomfortably under his gaze. If you could you'd sink into the couch cushions even more. “I know that, Riddle. I just… It feels like if I don’t do these things, I’m failing you somehow.”

His eyes widened for a second before shaking his head. “No, no how could you be failing me? If anything you're failing yourself”

You hesitated, your tongue poking at your cheek as you toyed with the mug in your hands. "I'm not failing myself," you tried weakly, though the exhaustion in your voice betrayed you. Riddle let out a long sigh, running a hand through his vibrant red hair.

“You are," he countered, his voice lowering. "And if you won't take the necessary steps to care for yourself, then I will ensure it happens."

Your breath caught in your throat "You don't have to do that, Riddle," you said, "You're supposed to be my guest, not my caretaker."

Riddle's lips twitched, his frown somehow deepened more for a split second. A look of…disappointment? "A guest? Is that how you still see me?"

You blinked at him, caught off guard by the question. "I mean… I guess. I don’t know how else to describe this situation. All I know is I don't want you to go back to being under that pressure like you did back at home”

His mind went blank for a second. He shook his head and cleared his throat. “[Name]” he started softly. You watched him as he looked away with red cheeks. After a moment he continued.

“Like I've stated before you've helped me in ways I couldn't imagine you don't need to push yourself just for my sake I can help I am a house warden after all, I care for you…a lot so do not tangle yourself in with my needs if you are not to take care of your own…please”

You wanted to protest but the words laid flat on your tongue. You could just nod in defeat as you rested your mug on the coffee table. Riddle smiled slightly before clearing his throat and putting back a stern face—blush still clear on his face.

“Good now I shall go run you a bath, then you shall get some much needed rest” The house warden said taking your now empty cup and plate into the kitchen.

When was the last time you felt cared for like this? All you knew was that it made your heart swell. Riddle Rosehearts was always your favorite..

MASTERLIST

[nauticaltrain]

your themed slang for stex you did in that one post is really interesting could you elaborate on them?

oof yes i love themed slang so much (og post here)

Train slang is not super complex, merely a blending of regular old human culture, real railroad slang, and their own esoteric references. Most rolling stock have a remarkable skillfulness in the art of arguing, and will talk shit to hell and back. As a result, their vernacular is increasingly creative in an effort to really get their points across.

Some examples (including the ones in that post and some more!)

Dries my crown - a steamer saying, referencing the crown sheet that covers the top of the firebox. The crown must have a layer of water on top of it at all times to prevent damage to boiler, and potential implosion. So, saying that something "dries my crown", means it's really irritating to the point of outrage

Keep your tender on - calm down, relax. Another steamer saying

Blow it out your stack - fuck off and leave me alone. Started as a steamer thing and has gradually shifted over to the diesels as a derogative

Chassis - A chassis is the load bearing framework of rolling stock (and many other pieces of machinery). In the context of train slang, it's vaguely sexual? They're about as anatomically correct as barbie dolls and have a limited understanding of sexuality. But that doesn't mean the counterfeit replication of the human mind that makes up the rolling stock psyche can't catcall and talk dirty!

Pumps my pistons - see above

Get out of my cab and it's variations - stop micromanaging me!

Tarblood/coaleater/crummy/hog/scrap/tea kettle/etc. - slurs and name calling. Trains love to insult each other

Rumble - a human term that was co-opted by the rolling stock. Someone is gonna throw down and it's gonna be a big event, let's go watch two idiots beat each other up. Usually references altercations between engines

Less than a hundred miles under you - you're a newbie, you don't have a lot of experience

Wheelslip - In real railroading, wheelslip is a phenomenon where if too much force is applied to the wheels and there is not enough friction, the wheels will turn without there being movement of the train. In train slang, it's the equivalent of saying "butterfingers" when someone drops something or "you good?" when someone trips

Ticking over - not really slang, but more of cultural thing. On a real engine, ticking over is idling. In the musical, tickovers are the set of movements each character does when they're not doing anything specific (Rusty's little arm rotations, CB's salute, Greaseball combing back his hair). In the context of my weird psychological automaton au, it's a visual representation of them processing information. Train stimming, basically.

Oh also, they have a non-verbal sub-language in train form (if one subscribes to the transformers-esque headcanon), which includes brake clenching, whistle/horn variations, metal creaks, and light signals!

[macknshift]

THE ONE WHERE . . . I INTRODUCE Y'ALL TO LEO!

SOOOO…i have mentioned leo in like, 90 different posts atp and never actually made a "leo intro" (mainly bc i have weird feelings ab sharing him heavily to the rest of the world lol) but! i figured now would be the best time to get into explaining him to y'all.

LEO , commonly given the last name SCOTT (depends on the dr!) is actually originally the main character's love interest in a hockey romance book i've been in the process of writing. after getting #sickandtired of annoying ass book men i gave up and began drafting one of my own. the main character is literally me (i mean, for christ's sake her name is sloane mackintosh,) and eventually, i began thinking of him in other "au"s (i used to do this a lot on wattpad - i mean DRs but the term AU is usually more digestible to ppl that may not be aware of reality shifting. Anyways.) and began kind of placing him in everything. a list of the drs he is my love interest in is follows;

BETTER CR : (fc silasj2004*) the hockey romance book pretty much as a dr. small changes occur but basically he's the exact same as leo in the book lol

PARENT DR : (fc jack schlossberg. yes. i am one of those girlies. i am not ashamed! at least he has morals + a backbone y'all this could be much worse) the "backstory" is my better cr dr. i'm now a mother of 3 (amelia or mimi, aged 5, giselle or gigi, aged 4 and i'm pregnant with vincenzo, our final kid,) and it follows our life after what would be the events of the book. i sort-of made it also as like a WAG dr in a sense bc leo is a professional hockey player! (but he retires 2 years before this point in time so idk where my thought process is w this lol)

FORMULA 1 DRIVER DR : (fc pato o'ward MY!!!! mclaren man ln4 U ARE NOTHINGGGGGGG) leonardo dempsey, son of actor patrick dempsey (my forever celebrity crush ugh he's so fine) and driver for aston martin aramco f1 team under #99. i essentially took l*nce str*ll's daddy's boy backstory and gave it to leo bc he is indeed a daddy's boy. the only dr leo and i are enemies to lovers bc i'm too obsessed w him otherwise LMFAO

MARVEL DR : (fc marcello hernandez (MY MAAANNNN)) leo scott, secretly the speedster superhero 'comet'. hired by my dad as essentially a bodyguard (leo's not intimidating AT ALL idek how the hell this is supposed to work LMFAO) as comet and knows me out of costume as his sister's roommate (mj is also in every dr ever and actually is here in this cr. i can never leave her out i love her DOWN) basically marichat vibes (god i miss marichat)

POP STAR DR : (fc marcello hernandez, again) leo sinatra, nepo baby great-grandson of frank sinatra (there's a whole, incredibly large bit of lore ab this LMFAO + he's also a great-grandson in my better cr dr too bc i need my man RICH!) and Saturday Night Live cast member. basically i go on snl and immediately fall in love. i've stolen the 'unlikely couple' weekend update sketch for us & he does domingo, which is my song lol we're funny for it idk

THE FCS, in color photos:

i'm missing like, 18 other drs that i can think of but some important info about him;

he's half oaxacan mexican. i've tried my damnedness to find a way to make it obvious but when i was 'designing' him (aka drawing him out) i used jack, silas (*NOTE: he is leo's typical fc if i don't have an designated one for him) and marcello as references to make him look the most like him as i can. the fcs are kind of loose for him but i need a way to like fully visualize him. so. yeah. his 'color palette' (weird way to put it but idk how else) makes him tanner than all three of them i fear. all of the fcs i use (other than jack schlossberg but like. idk his main celebrity lookalike in the better cr is him so i kind of had to) are latino, but i feel like it never ever properly translates when i talk about him bc his name is fucking leopold scott. like. huh.

he's also tall AS FUCK lol and built like a tank lowkey (think tom welling clark kent GOOD GOOGLY MOOGLY) but it's mainly bc he's a hockey player. in every vers he's like. 6'3. shortest he is is w marcello as his fc and even then he's 5'11. (note in pop star dr he gets a lot of comparisons to jacob elordi for some reason??? idk my fans are weird)

he's got big brown baby cow eyes. every. single. time. like that is this man's defining trait and you know what? i would not change that for the world lol

his position in hockey is a goalie! he uses the number #29 and plays for our college and later for the new jersey devils before being traded to the anaheim ducks. after he retires he becomes a firefighter!!!! (which is sooo hot btw)

[dokidokitsuna]

GameSwap!AU

Just a random idea I had: what if Magolor and Hyness traded games with each other? Like, their character/personality remains the same, only now they each have the other’s roles and goals. I thought it would be fun~

-So making Magolor the main antagonist of Star Allies would be a trip; I feel it would change the whole ambiance of the game…probably in a detrimental way, from a gamedev point of view. You don’t really wanna put the super cute and charming new character with the most memorable heel-turn in the series…at the center of the “nostalgia” game. ^^; With the return of the Helpers and a dozen familiar faces cameoing as Dream Friends, Magolor’s theatrics would be too much of a distraction.

But whatever, let’s say we put him in anyway: now Magolor is the leader of Jambastion, trying to resurrect a god of emptiness and despair. I predict he snaps immediately. XD

I just think handing that kind of leadership role to an obviously power-hungry character like Mago would grow worms in his brain incredibly quickly. ^^; That isn’t to say that he’d do the cuckoo-4-coco-puffs schtick that Hyness does– I think instead he would be a sort of annoying “chuunibyou” character; constantly popping up to ramble about being Void Termina’s chosen one, destined to succeed because he’s the specialest and bestest ever, so you might as well give up now.

And he’d give off this completely unserious vibe like, “...Are you just making this up? Is this god you’re trying to resurrect actually real; or are you just a very lonely, understimulated, disturbed little egg…?”

And then by the end of the game we realize that he *wasn’t* making it up, and as he starts abusing the Mage Sisters (who probably hate working for him to begin with...) and rapidly becomes a real threat, suddenly we’re forced to take him seriously. ^^; We’ll rescue him from Void Termina’s innards anyway, though, because we’re nice, and similarly to his true character arc; he’ll probably realize that he got in over his head and beg to be saved.

-Hyness in Return to Dreamland would be interesting…primarily because he doesn’t seem like the ‘manipulator’ type to me. I think he’d be more of an ‘absentminded professor’ type: enthusiastic and silly but in an awkward, understated way. He’d just come right out and tell us he wants help to find the Master Crown, but he’d present it as a mysterious object of limitless possibilities that we should ALSO be interested in…y’know, just for curiosity’s sake. Conveniently leaving out the fact that he’s taking it for himself, and he’s more than just curious– he already knows exactly what he wants to do with it. ^^;

And similarly to *his* true character arc…I think Hyness would go all in. ‘_’ No hesitation, no regrets; he’d dive right into Mistilteinn’s clutches and become its twisted avatar, forcing us to literally carve him out of there if we want to stop him. This would probably call for a much tougher boss fight, with a more serious ambiance– none of Magolor Soul’s cutesy juggling; let’s aim for something more like Zero’s eyeball exploding out of his face, but in 3D~. Or all the horrific stuff Fecto Elfilis had going on, since we have the benefit of hindsight. XD

As for the end…this may hurt some folks, but I think it would make sense for Hyness to die, like the devs originally planned for Magolor before they decided to have mercy on him. The thing is, without the Mage-Sisters to highlight Hyness’ changes in behavior, there’s not as much to gain from redeeming him…maybe that’ll be part of his character arc too; seeking to become the instrument of the Master Crown because he has nothing and no one else. This version of Hyness still has his empty heart, devoid of care, but without Void Termina to pledge himself to, the tree-demon is the best he can do. ^^; And with a little fleshing-out of his backstory before he goes (perhaps a chance to learn more about the magic vs. science users…?) he could make a good tragic antagonist, the first of his kind in the series.

-...Seeing as RtDL was supposed to be like a fresh start for the Kirby series, though, all this lore and sadness would be a little heavy for that concept…from a gamedev point of view, I would reject the idea. But if we did go with it, I shudder to think how it would influence the rest of the games to follow…perhaps the franchise would actually have taken the grimdark turn that people like to think it has. ^^ Which would be cool to see, admittedly.

[lets-try-some-writing]

I spent the entire last night binging Action and this may just be one of the best yet humorous AUs I’ve ever seen put to words. What inspired the idea and Optimus’ portrayal? And will we ever get to see that journal he was keeping?

Yeeeeees I'm so glad you enjoy my work!! I wish I could write faster to give you and other readers more to chew on, but I take forever to update it because I A) Have a lot to write per chapter and B) Greatly enjoy weaving comedy and intrigue into Action! That said, to answer your questions:

The idea came about in a bit of a hazy daydream months upon months ago. I wrote a quick drabble for it here on Tumblr, and next thing I knew, I was writing an actor AU with only one actor. I think I saw a few posts about other actor aus and maybe some art with those fake screencaps and behind the scenes interviews. That may have helped inspire me too. As for Optimus's portrayal? I have a dark history of binging FAR too much manga and online comic content as a young teen. Those days are long behind me, but the cliche plots gave me a basis for Action. I wanted Action to be a bit of a parody mixed with real political struggle. Have you ever read one of those terrible webtoons with no character development that is totally just a power fantasy? Yeah that's what I was aiming for. The world of Action is, on its surface, a poorly written webtoon, and that's how Orion sees it. But in reality it is a Game of Thrones/Lord of the Rings style world with darkness and brutality written into its very core. Optimus Prime was meant to be a surface level villain, but Orion is an overachiever and through his efforts to play his part is unintentionally playing directly into the real nature of the world. He's given Optimus Prime character that there never was previously, and I think he would be proud to know that.

In regards to the journal, I plan for it to come into play later. It will take a minute, but it will ultimately be one of the key items to make Orion realize that his role as Optimus Prime is NOT a game. At least if my plans don't change.

[writingnekoo]

Odysseus' character analysis & how we overlook his trauma

Okay, this will be a long post about Odysseus and what could be happening in his head after his return to Ithaca because I really need to share these ideas <3

During the last few days I've been thinking about the whole Poseidon-obssesed-with-Odysseus concept (thanks to @rin-solo for inspiration :)), and that's how I recalled one headcanon of mine about Odysseus and his possible perception of his conflict with Poseidon.

A disclaimer first: I know that Epic is sometimes historically and culturally inaccurate, but! I want to include some of the cultural norms of ancient times because they will make things much more interesting.

So, since early August I've had an idea that Odysseus' personality during the post-Odyssey timeline would be heavily influenced by PTSD. That's just reasonable: the war takes its toll on the person anyway, especially on the warrior like Odysseus. He saw the nightmares of the Trojan War, lost his comrades and faced things that made him lose his sleep.

I actually like how Odysseus' trauma is depicted in Epic. We have these parts with the voices of Polites, Eurylochus and Anticlea and see just how much these losses affected Odysseus (take the ending of "Love in Paradise"). But instead of focusing on the losses like the musical does I'd rather talk about those who had caused them. It's a curious thing about the mentality of those who survived the war and similar events: their mind tends to demonize and hate those who caused pain deeply. It produces the ultimate hatred that is able to overcome any other feeling. This is the idea that I want to pursue in my Monster AU (might write about it later because that's another long talk) about the overwhelming feeling, produced by trauma, that can't be distinguished. And Odysseus is the only character in the story who has endured that twenty-year long nightmare: his comrades from the Trojan War didn't have the decade of journey back home behind their backs, and those who sailed with Odysseus died.

But there's one more layer to this scenario. While we've covered the idea about the war victim demonizing the aggressor, we can't forget that we're talking about the religious society of ancient times. Poseidon and Zeus are the two godly villains of Odysseus' story. However, they're also the god of the tides, who must've been one of the most widely worshiped in Ithaca (since it's an island... yeah), and the King of the gods.

That leaves Odysseus in an even more complex situation. Because he most likely highly respected both of them for his whole life. Eventually, they left Odysseus ruined. The people of Ithaca didn't stop worshipping them, and Odysseus has to follow the same religious rituals and celebrate annual festivities, which definitely reminds him of what had happened.

Once again, no one understands what he's gone through. Even Penelope and Telemachus, no matter how supportive they are. Thus, the trauma is left unseen and unhealed. Too bad there was no therapy in the ancient world, Odysseus would've needed it.

Finally, this whole set of reasons serves as a perfect background for deep and tragic obsession with those who hurt him and inability to let go of the past. Do the voices fall silent after Odysseus defeats all the enemies? No, they probably don't. Because even though physically Odysseus is already home, mentally, he's still fighting with the ghosts of his enemies. This is a desperate feeling that belongs to a broken man who no longer fits into society like he used to. And it eats him alive, kills him from the inside. No ruthlessness or bloodshed can help Odysseus to run from this despair. It fact, they might only make it worth by reminding who made him a monster! :)

Generally... this is pretty much it. The whole idea of all-consuming despair and trauma is what I've wanted to pursue here because I find it very natural in terms of everything that Odysseus has been through. I'd also like to analyze the whole Vengeance saga (especially my fav Six Hundred Strike) from this perspective because it actually makes perfect sense for me, but that's one more long post of another time lmao.

[dat-town]

we bloom at night

Characters: vampire!Sunghoon & vampire hunter!female reader

Setting & genre: urban fantasy au, angst, almost lovers to enemies to lovers (romeo and juliet-esque?)

Summary: They say almost is the saddest word. You thought it was ridiculous. Until Sunghoon became your almost.

Warnings: minor character deaths, guns, canon-typical violence, MC gets slapped by her father, mentions of blood, ambiguous ending, possibly annoying amount of moon references

Words: 3.2k

Author’s note: inspired by the untold concept cinema - the last scene is set immediately after the end of that; title from moonstruck; @restlessmaknae you can call me out on writing so much for bonedo but can we talk about how this is also my 3rd Sunghoon story this year? (and all of them are angsty oops)

It was always going to end in a tragedy.

From the moment you knew who he was, what he was, there was no other way. It didn’t hurt any less though.

The first time you met Sunghoon he was playing piano at the Moonlight Gala. You couldn’t help but think that he was beautiful, unearthly so. The white overhead light painted him pale, his dark hair a stark contrast like ink against snow. You were enchanted, both by his music and his appearance.

Your father scolded you for not paying attention to the chairman who was asking you about your after graduation plans. As if you had much of a choice! It didn’t matter that you were born a girl or that you hated violence more than anything. Three generations of soldiers serving the country… you couldn’t break the family tradition. Your opinion never really mattered because in your household, your father’s word was law and outside of it, you had no choice but to agree with the colonel. No disobedience was allowed, you learned that early on.

The gala was held in the name of charity for orphans but in reality it was just another chance for the chairman to show off his influence and pretend to be a good samaritan while using the charity funds to buy his second wife a villa on Jeju. You hated him and their equally two-faced, egoistic son who thought girls should stay quiet and just be pretty. Your cheek still burned from the memory of your father’s slap after you dared to indulge in an argument with the guy over rights and things such as equality because how dare you disrespect the heir?

You couldn’t wait to get away from the crowd and from your family, so you used their distraction during speeches to slip away into the gardens and it seemed like the pianist preferred the silence of nature as well, now that his services were temporarily not needed while the rich and influential were busy praising themselves inside. He stood by the fountain, the moon reflecting on the water and its shine highlighted his beauty. You might have been too mesmerized, too obvious, because when the boy looked up, he immediately caught your gaze.

From a young age you were taught to own up to your mistakes and to always act like what you were doing was intentional because you couldn’t allow yourself to bring shame to your name by showcasing anything else than perfect composure, so you didn’t shy away. You kept eye contact even when the pianist tilted his head in question and you raised your chin as you closed the distance between you with a few light steps.

“What was the song you played last?” You asked because the melody was like no other you heard before yet it was stuck in your mind.

“It’s an original. It’s called Moonstruck,” he said and even his voice was beautiful, mellow and soft.

His answer was followed by brief silence but it wasn’t awkward. Your fingers mimicked the way his fingers moved over the black and white keys over the railing and oh how you wished you were taught to create music instead of how to hold a gun.

“You are the lieutenant's daughter,” the boy spoke up again and it wasn’t a question, you both knew. Anybody could tell from the way you were pestered around all night.

“First and foremost, I’m Y/N,” you said because being your father’s daughter was one thing but you were your own individual without your family’s influence as well.

Your correction made the pianist smile a bit. The small gesture looked good on him.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Sunghoon,” he introduced himself and looked at the moonlit water again. There, under the full moon, you traded secrets unlike strangers usually do. He told you that he had grown up in an orphanage, befriending his best friends there, and you told him about how your older brother was like your own best friend, your only supporter under your father’s regime. He was the golden son, good at everything and making the family proud with his achievements in the military already as a rookie. He promised to put in a word for you after he earned himself a promotion, that he would ask your father, so you wouldn’t have to follow down this path.

It was such a comfort, this little bubble you created in which you weren’t judged, where you were actually listened to. But the idyll broke when you heard your name being called and it brought a frown onto your face.

“I need to go,” you excused yourself, apologetic, and the boy nodded, understanding.

“I should probably go back to my post as well,” he muttered with a half smile and your paths diverged.

But before the end of the night, Sunghoon slipped a napkin into your hand smoothly, asking when he could see you again. It made your heart flutter like nothing before.

You thought it was romantic: sneaking around, sending handwritten letters, keeping the ones from him under your pillow. The political unrest shown on TV due to the emerging vampire attack cases not being handled efficiently was just an afterthought in the back of your mind, your father’s complaints at the dining table fading in the background because all you could think about was seeing Sunghoon again. 

But then everything changed when your brother died. His throat was torn and bloody, fang marks clear and you swore over his dead body in the hospital’s sterilized table that you would avenge him.

Joining the military’s new government founded vampire hunting unit seemed like the right choice. The president was finally taking steps against the threats that have been lurking in your country for a while now. Needless to say your parents were proud and even though you knew you could never replace their favourite son, it didn’t stop you. You weren’t doing this for them after all, you were doing this because your brother was the best thing in your life and his death was unfair.

You didn’t expect Sunghoon to support you, after all it was a dangerous job and the complete opposite of what you had wanted to do previously but you thought that he would at least understand you and why you needed to do this. But maybe you didn’t know him as well as you thought, not even after weeks of talking and sharing stories nobody else knew.

“You said you didn’t want to go down this path,” he said quietly, his shadow even taller than him in the alcove you found your temporary safe haven.

“That was before. I have to do this,” you argued because you were angry at the world and you felt lost without having a purpose. Sunghoon’s reluctance to accept your choice hurt more than you expected it to be. Maybe you wanted him to embrace you, to stroke your hair and tell you that everything would be alright. But Sunghoon’s eyes were sorrowful for reasons you weren’t aware of and his distance cut deeper than the knife you accidentally hurt yourself with during training.

“Y/N…”

“You can’t change my mind,” you cut him off because you didn’t want to hear more. You ripped yourself away before he could have touched you and walked away, the lonely moon showing you the way in the night.

That was the last time you saw him as a human. Or at least when you thought he was human. Because the next time you met, it wasn’t one of your secret night rendezvous behind your parents’ back. It wasn’t apologies whispered or heartfelt letters exchanged. It was your first field mission as a rookie of the vampire hunting team.

The past few weeks you pretty much lived on the military base, drowning yourself in training and practice. You wanted to be the best, you had so much to catch up on. On days when it was particularly hard, when you had new scars on your hands, soreness in your muscles and received insults for being daddy’s little princess and just wanted to cry, you missed your brother the most. It would have been so much easier with him by your side. Then you started missing Sunghoon too and something you never really had and you had to snap out of it because you couldn’t get distracted.

(You had no idea that he had spent those weeks visiting your house, watching your window, hoping to see the light or for you to lean outside of the window, any sign that you were well. You had no idea that one of his friends had been caught while stealing blood bags from a hospital and the military was on their trail. You had no idea that he missed you too, like waves missed their guiding moon.)

The mission you joined was supposed to be an easy one, just a quick in-and-out at a warehouse that supposedly had frequent vampire activities. The team’s job was to check on that and if confirmed, get information about the approximate number of bloodsuckers hidden there.

Maybe it was the nerves or the pressure to prove yourself but you wandered off after noticing movement in one corner and no amount of training could have prepared you for the sight of a teenage girl with bloodshot eyes and blood dripping from her sharp fangs. You had a gun in your hand, the same type you had shot with during practice. You knew the feel of metal and just how hard you needed to pull the trigger. You knew exactly how many seconds it took and yet, you stood there frozen. You always imagined vampires as ugly villains from children's stories or faceless murderers from horror movies, but this girl looked so human, even covered in blood. She was just a child…

A child that was attacking you.

Everything happened so fast. Before you could even lift your arm and aim, the girl was on you, baring her teeth, then the next moment she was yanked off you with a strength you didn’t think was possible. You gaped at the person who did it, even more so when you recognized him in the dim lit warehouse.

“Are you okay? Did she hurt you?” Sunghoon asked with worry in his midnight dark eyes, with a cold hand against your cheek to check you for injuries.

He didn’t look afraid at all, if not for you and you were the one with a weapon in hand, that was the first thing you noticed. Then you put two and two together: the reason behind his pale complexion and flawless beauty, why he wasn’t fond of the government’s stricter rules or why he was especially wary of your sudden change of heart.

“You… You are one of them. Those monsters,’ you whispered with a gasp in shock. It felt like a betrayal, a knife straight to the heart. Even if he wasn’t the one who had killed your brother, he was one of them.

Sunghoon hissed like your words could actually hurt him as he pulled his hands back, looking scared that even his touch was repulsive to you now.

“Y/N…” He called your name softly, like he had called you so many times before but its sweetness turned sour to your ears now. His being alone changed so many things.

“Leave,” you gritted your teeth, trembling fingers curling around your gun firmer. It was heavier in your hand than it was supposed to be. But Sunghoon didn’t move, so you looked up, straight into his eyes and repeated. “Leave. This is the last kindness I can give to you.”

This beautiful boy looked at you with such sorrowful eyes that you could feel your eyes tear up. He didn’t understand. He had to leave. If others saw him…

“Please,” you begged and lifted the gun, pointing at his chest, right at his broken heart but you could have pointed at your own too.

You both heard the footsteps coming and it was then when Sunghoon disappeared as swiftly as wind, leaving only a breeze of his musky scent behind. The moment he left, you fell to the ground, and a comrade found you like that.

It didn’t take long after that for word to get around. You were a weakling. A shame. But none of it mattered with a broken heart.

The sound of palm meeting skin echoed in your childhood bedroom. Your cheek felt hot even after your father pulled his hand back and you forced your gaze to the ground.

“Don’t you see, stupid girl? He was using you to get information about us,” he claimed as if he knew the boy whose picture was now on wanted posters all over the city, him and all his friends from the orphanage too. Everything came to light quickly after that: his appearance at the gala, your late night talks, the secret letters hidden in your pillow  and your weakness for a beautiful boy with a mole on his cheek. A vampire.

You disappointed your father once again.

“He isn’t like that,” you argued because even in the light of the recent realization you were not willing to believe that Sunghoon played pretend the entire time and none of his softness or kindness was genuine.

“Did he or did he not know about your connection to the military?” Your father pressed and you couldn’t deny that. He knew who you were before you even talked. But who didn’t at that party? Your father liked to show off your family.

“Yes but…”

“See? You’re so naive. I should have known better than to believe you can avenge your brother,” your father didn’t even let you finish and turned his back on you. End of the conversation.

Now, it felt like a cosmic joke that the next time you met Sunghoon, it was in an abandoned music store with broken glass and soldiers’ bodies lying all around. He was sitting in the car that crashed into the building and listened to the music coming from the cassette player. Light piano music like the first time you had seen him.

The government had called for an aggressive attack on all known vampires to ‘clear’ the cities that morning. Everything was closed down and every active soldier was on the field. You heard of the first troop opening fire at the car with seven vampires and how they stopped reporting back to the base. That was when your lieutenant father came up with his great idea: to send you in, alone, because one of the vampires trusted you and you knew a deal when you saw it: it was your chance of redemption if you ever wanted him to consider you as his daughter again. You weren’t sure you wanted though. Still, you agreed because not going was the worse choice both for you and Sunghoon. Even if you were supposed to be a martyr.

“Are you part of the backup they sent?” Sunghoon asked without looking up, his fingers drumming on the steering wheel as if he was playing the last few notes of that pretty melody.

“I’m supposed to be the distraction,” you admitted, voice tight, limbs nervous. Not because you were in the middle of a battlefield and if your father gave the command, you would go down with everything around you. Not because soldiers in bulky uniforms were scattered behind you injured or dead. Not because you were afraid Sunghoon would hurt you. Even his friends let you pass by them without a word, some didn’t even glance at you, others followed you with their gaze but didn’t get up from their place, didn’t stop you either. You were trembling because you weren’t sure how Sunghoon would treat you after you had called him a monster. But you should have known better than to doubt him.

When he got out of the car and turned to you, he didn’t look at you with hatred or disappointment, he looked at you with care, worry. He didn’t approach you as if he was afraid that you would push him away like last time.

“You need to leave, Y/N. It’s going to be hell when the backup arrives,” he warned you as if you didn’t know, as if there wasn’t a gun tucked inside his pants just like you had one taped to your thigh. You were prepared for hell.

“You… it wasn’t you, right? You didn’t kill the mass like they claim, right?” You asked, almost desperately, because you needed to know. They plastered the city full of their faces, calling them murderers, killers of dozens, but you couldn’t imagine him doing all the atrocities that were pinned on them and you knew how the government needed scapegoats just to prove the funding had gone to a good place, so you wouldn’t have been surprised if it was all a lie, you just needed to be sure.

“We only kill if necessary. Like now, they attacked us first,” Sunghoon explained and you knew that he was telling the truth about the letter because you heard your superior say that the vampired wanted to leave town quietly. You also saw the bullet holes in his Sunghoon’s jacket.

“They are everywhere. They surrounded the area. They say they will burn down the neighbourhood if they have to and I…” You started rambling because you didn’t know what to do, what you could do at least and you were starting to panic because it had already been some time and what if the soldiers were already on the move and…

“Hey, shh…” Sunghoon cooed, quiet and kind, like he was reassuring a child as he cradled your face in his hands and pulled you onto his chest. He smelled like smoke and metal but he was warm, you nuzzled closer.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered into his shirt, fingers curling into the sleeve of his jacket to keep yourself steady.

“We’ll get out of here alright, okay?” He said under the watching eyes of the rising moon and you wanted to believe him so badly.

You wanted to get far, far away and start a new life. You wanted to sit next to him and watch him play piano. You wanted to be with him without hiding, without holding back. You wanted to believe that you had a future despite his immortality and your human fragility.

“Okay,” you forced a hopeful smile and Sunghoon slid his fingers into the seam of yours to intertwine them.

He led you to his friends and asked what you knew about the ambush the soldiers were preparing, so you tried your best to tell them all the small details you caught on while waiting in front of your father’s office. And just like that, you really became the traitor he already thought you were. But between a father who kept you in a cage and never wanted you the way you were and a boy who wanted you despite everything, you chose to follow your heart.

Even if it led to hell. At least Sunghoon was holding your hand through it.

[ranticore]

im so curious about the kitchen nightmares au, is félix a waiter? are erica and jean creating crimes against the culinary arts in the back? why is esk of all people gordon ramsay

relevant background info was that when i first got my ipad and was getting to grips with procreate, i was also drafting the first go at mvf so i was drawing mostly refs and character designs, and while i was doing that on an ipad i realised that i could, for the first time ever, watch something on another screen while drawing. guess what i watched

this super old art was one of my first paintings all in procreate and i did it while watching kitchen nightmares. love the show (uk version only), it's absolutely terrible and fake and ramsay sucks but something Compels me

i drew a series of fake interview portraits for all main characters of mvf, as different staff members in a failing restaurant on the show. esk who was kind of the straight man/critical voice of the group ended up being the celebrity chef

anyway the basic plot is they work at a tacky outdated italian trattoria with all that entails, that serves french cuisine, in the year 2005. the restaurant was a money laundering front owned by helena but she was an absentee owner who would deny any claim over the restaurant flaws and be generally away & uncooperative

the restaurant was failing because it looked awful and the food was not good but also because the staff could not work well with one another and the constant arguments that customers would overhear was turning them off

the person who called in gordon ramsnake was the restaurant manager, Félix, in a very roundabout attempt to try to bring heat down on Helena

general overview of the staff & their flaws

Manager (Félix) - actively embezzling from the business, basically a middle manager tyrant trying to control everyone else, ambition of becoming the owner one day (and then they'll ALL see). Would deflect the blame for the restaurant's issues onto every single other person except Francis because he can do no wrong ever. Aw jeez guys we just don't know where the money is going!! Don't look at his meticulously-kept, well-hidden balance books or his incongruously nice car. He looks like the sleaziest businessman you have ever seen.

Head Chef (Jean, you guessed right) - confrontational and rude, could not accept criticism no matter what and would pick fights with customers who sent the food back. He could cook decently but only to his own schedule and preference. The type to go "my food is perfect and nobody can teach me anything" before esk convinces the owner to hire a new head chef who can actually listen to feedback. His prized menu hasn't changed in 7 years.

Front of House (Islin) - zero charm or charisma but otherwise pretty sincere, though it IS weird that an ordained priest is working here and not in a church somewhere. He explains in an interview around the back of the restaurant that he's identified a new route to finding converts because just knocking on people's doors hasn't had a good return. He has zero interest in any aspect of the restaurant experience. Attempts to preach to most of the diners.

Head Waiter (Erica) - he's clearly had no training and is never where he's supposed to be at any given time, and it almost looks like he's ambushing the diners while they're mid-bite on purpose. Calculated bare-minimum work while spending most of his time in the kitchens for some reason. In the course of the episode it's discovered that he makes a decent cook and gets relocated. He had a habit of telling customers that the food was bad even if it wasn't.

Barman (Francis) - eager to please and maybe the only truly friendly face in the restaurant, he's the only reason anyone comes back. But he has an inconvenient habit of giving steep discounts to women, so the bar almost never turns a profit. There have been a few complaints about Barman's inappropriate advances from diners & the fact that his shirt is always a little bit too open. He seems to believe that there's nothing wrong with the place and it's a perfectly legit successful business, so it's hard to get through to him to change his behaviour. Won't hear a word of criticism against Félix or Islin.

Sous-chef (Léá) - hates it here hates every second of every day can't stand anyone wants to be out of there asap but she knows she lacks the experience to actually be a sous-chef in a legitimate restaurant, which means she'd take a pay cut if she tried to find work anywhere else, so she's trapped. She has a habit of throwing parsley garnish far too liberally over every single dish because she read in a book from the 90s that this is how you get a Michelin star

Rival Restaurateur (Senca) - she runs an equally tacky fake unpopular italian trattoria across the street and she's been trying to get Helena's one shut down for years by doing various etsy badluck curses and getting the hygiene inspectors called on them but it hasn't worked yet. She suggested to Félix that maybe trying to get the restaurant on TV would draw enough negative attention to get it shut down (and then he could reopen it of course). She's a bit surprised he actually went and did it even though the show could not have been less flattering towards him and he's essentially turbo-nuked his own reputation into the dirt forever. But she's waiting behind the scenes to make an insultingly-cheap offer and then they'll ALL see

over the course of the episode the above flaws are identified. esk attempts to propose a remodel of the tired décor which is fiercely resisted by Félix because he kind of likes the fake tuscany look but eventually he gives in and the place is given a modern and fresh feel. it draws a crowd on its reopening night but the staff struggle to meet the demand, unused to such numbers, and it ends up with Jean refusing to cook and walking out (he's fired shortly after).

they regroup and organise a charming promo event where they serve real french cuisine in a stall outside (oysters mostly) to draw customers for a new lunchtime service. this is well-received because new Head Chef Léa (now even MORE trapped in a role she has no real claim to) doesn't have to cook the oysters so she can't fuck them up. Félix actually tries to be receptive to the staff he's managing, for once, and he does a good job of supporting them and finally effectively managing the floor.

episode ends with Esk walking away and wondering if it left the restaurant in good hands, concluding that "only time will tell". there's a sequence of the restaurant's one successful lunch service, everyone smiling and working well and diners happy, with the text "RESTAURANT closed its business in August 2005, three months after the filming of this episode".

Esk goes back to interview the owner and ask why it failed, and Helena just explains that she sold it and moved on while dodging every other question. Esk berates her for having no passion for the business, calls her lazy and immature, and she simply walks out of the interview.

[amethystarachnid]

Hi! 🤍

I saw your Marvel Holiday Special, and would love to request it, including Loki Laufeyson, if possible.

As soon as I saw the prompt [ Holiday Road Trip  – A festive road trip adventure with your character, from road snacks to sing-alongs to unexpected pit stops. Will the two of you get into mischief along the way? ] I knew I would love to see what mischief Loki and Fem! Reader will get up to on their road trip.

The only plot point I'd love to see is Reader taking Loki home to meet her parents for the first time, as this is their first Christmas together as a couple. Other than that, I'm open to any and all additions!

Thank you in advance 🤍

CHRISTMAS ROAD TRIP

⤷ LOKI LAUFEYSON

ᯓ★ Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL Holiday special

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 6.4k

ᯓ★ Summary: what the ask said, it's just them on a cute little road trip

ᯓ★ TW(s): some men staring at y/n and loki gets jealous

ᯓ★ After this event is done I was thinking of writing a part two with Loki meeting the rest of her family if y'all want to read it!!

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The chill of December wraps around you as you shuffle through the living room, tossing a scarf onto the pile of clothes Loki has deemed necessary for this trip. Your breath fogs slightly in the air, even inside, thanks to the old heating system that never quite does its job. Loki, standing near the window with his usual poised elegance, eyes your movements with a raised eyebrow.

“Are you certain we need to bring all of this?” he asks, gesturing toward the heap of jackets, sweaters, and boots. His black coat hangs over one arm, and he adjusts the green scarf you insisted he wear, its color somehow making his eyes seem even sharper in contrast.

“Yes,” you say with a grin, tossing another blanket into the backseat of the car. “It’s a road trip in the middle of winter, Loki. We’ll need everything to stay warm.”

“Is the car not equipped with sufficient heating?” His tone is suspicious, as if the idea of a less-than-perfectly functioning Midgardian invention offends his Asgardian sensibilities.

“It works fine!” you shoot back, though you cross your fingers mentally because “fine” is definitely a stretch. “Besides, it’s better to be prepared than frozen on the side of the road because of… well, let’s just call it ‘old car problems.’”

Loki sighs dramatically, pulling his long hair out from beneath the scarf. “It seems your love for this outdated contraption borders on madness.”

You roll your eyes. “My ‘outdated contraption’ is the only way we’re getting to my parents’ house. So unless you want to conjure a portal and skip all the scenic stops along the way…”

“Very well,” he interrupts, his lips curving into a reluctant smile. “Lead on, darling. I’m at your mercy.”

The term of endearment warms you in a way the old heater never could, and you pause for just a second to take him in. Loki—the god of mischief, with his sharp tongue and sharper cheekbones—standing here, wrapped in layers of human warmth, about to spend his first Christmas with you and your family. You feel an odd mixture of pride and nervousness, though you quickly push the latter aside.

“You’re going to love this,” you say, your voice soft but certain. “The road trip, my parents, the holiday. All of it.”

He steps closer, tilting his head as he studies you. “You seem… different today. Anxious, perhaps?”

“Nope,” you lie, too quickly.

He quirks an eyebrow, not buying it, but lets the moment pass. Instead, he picks up a thermos from the counter, examining it with mild curiosity. “And this?”

“Hot chocolate. Essential for road trips,” you say, taking it from him and packing it into a tote bag. “You’ll see.”

He doesn’t argue, but the small smirk on his face suggests he’s already planning to tease you about all of this later.

It takes another twenty minutes to finish loading the car. Loki insists on helping, though he does so with a mix of bemusement and mild exasperation. You’re almost certain he could transport everything into the vehicle with a snap of his fingers, but he indulges your need to do things the “human way,” as he puts it.

When the car is finally packed, you hand him the keys. He stares at them as if you’ve just offered him a particularly baffling puzzle.

“You’re driving,” you say, barely containing your laughter.

“Absolutely not,” he replies immediately, holding the keys between his thumb and forefinger like they might bite him. “This… contraption is yours. You shall pilot it.”

“It’s not a spaceship, Loki. It’s a car,” you say, sliding into the driver’s seat. “Besides, I like driving. You get to sit back and relax.”

He mutters something under his breath about Midgardians and their strange customs but climbs into the passenger seat without further protest. He looks comically large in the small space, his knees brushing the dashboard despite his attempts to adjust the seat.

“Comfortable?” you ask with a grin, starting the engine. The old car roars to life, though it takes a couple of tries.

“Exceedingly,” he deadpans, resting his elbow on the window ledge. “Do proceed.”

The sarcasm doesn’t escape you, but you’re too excited to care. You pull out of the driveway, the crunch of snow under the tires echoing in the crisp morning air. The city begins to fall away as you head toward the open road, the skyline replaced by sprawling fields dusted in white.

For the first few miles, Loki is quiet, his gaze fixed on the passing scenery. You steal glances at him, wondering what’s going through his mind. He’s so rarely this subdued, and while you appreciate the peace, you can’t help but feel like he’s holding something back.

“So,” you begin, breaking the silence. “What do you think so far?”

He turns his head slightly, his eyes narrowing as if considering his response carefully. “It’s… peculiar.”

“Peculiar how?”

“This,” he says, gesturing toward the dashboard and then out the window. “The journey itself. On Asgard, such distances would be traversed in an instant. There’s something… inefficient about all of this.”

“Efficient isn’t the point,” you counter. “The point is to enjoy the trip. The stops, the conversations, the memories. You can’t get that if you just snap your fingers and appear where you want to be.”

He looks at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, to your surprise, he nods. “Perhaps you’re right.”

You grin, feeling victorious. “See? I told you you’d like this.”

“I didn’t say I liked it,” he corrects, though his tone is lighter now. “Merely that you might have a point.”

“Close enough,” you say, reaching over to turn on the radio. Static fills the car for a moment before a holiday tune comes through, cheerful and bright. You glance at Loki, half expecting him to complain, but he only raises an eyebrow.

“And what is this?” he asks.

“Christmas music,” you reply, tapping your fingers on the steering wheel in time with the beat. “It’s mandatory for road trips in December.”

“Mandatory, you say?” He leans back in his seat, his lips twitching. “I had no idea the laws of Midgard were so whimsical.”

“Oh, they’re very serious,” you say with mock gravity. “In fact, I think there’s a fine for not singing along.”

His laughter is sudden and genuine, catching you off guard. It’s a rare sound, and you treasure it, even more than you do the road ahead or the promise of home waiting for you at the end of the trip.

The hum of the road beneath the tires and the gentle sway of the car create a rhythm that feels both soothing and energizing. You lean forward to fiddle with the radio again, this time landing on a station that’s playing upbeat holiday classics. Loki watches you with a bemused expression, his long fingers resting idly on his knee.

“Ah, yes,” he says, as the unmistakable opening notes of Jingle Bell Rock fill the car. “Another... mandatory Christmas tune?”

“Exactly,” you reply, popping open a bag of pretzels and offering him some. “And if you don’t like it, you’re legally required to tell me in song form.”

He picks up a single pretzel between his thumb and forefinger, examining it with an air of suspicion. “This looks like it was made for livestock.”

“Hey, don’t insult the pretzels,” you protest, grabbing a handful and tossing them into your mouth. “They’re a road trip staple.”

Loki places the pretzel on his tongue like it might be poison, chews slowly, and then swallows. His expression shifts from disdain to surprise. “It’s... salty.”

“Yes, that’s kind of the point.”

He considers this, then reaches for another. “Intriguing.”

You grin and pull another snack from your arsenal: a brightly colored bag of gummy bears. “If you think pretzels are weird, wait until you try these.”

He raises an eyebrow, accepting one of the bears and holding it up to the light. “Is this... an animal?”

“Sort of,” you say, trying not to laugh. “It’s candy. Just eat it.”

He does, and for a moment, his face is a perfect picture of concentration. Then, slowly, his lips curve into a smile. “This is much better than the pretzel.”

“See?” you say triumphantly, tossing a few gummy bears into your mouth. “I told you, snacks are essential. You can’t have a road trip without snacks.”

Loki leans back in his seat, his long legs stretching as much as the cramped car will allow. “And this is how Midgardians entertain themselves on journeys? Consuming... novelty foods and singing mandatory songs?”

“Pretty much,” you reply. “Oh, and there’s one more thing.”

“What’s that?”

You reach into the tote bag and pull out a thermos. “Hot chocolate.”

He accepts the thermos with the same air of careful curiosity, unscrewing the lid and taking a tentative sip. His eyes widen slightly, and you know you’ve won him over again.

“This is... quite good,” he admits, taking another sip.

“I told you, road trips are fun.”

He glances at you, his expression softening. “I suppose they are—when shared with the right company.”

Your cheeks flush, and you turn your attention back to the road, the snow-covered fields stretching out in every direction.

A few hours and several snack wrappers later, the car’s fuel gauge dips dangerously close to empty. You pull into a small, slightly shabby gas station, the kind with peeling paint and a flickering neon sign. Loki surveys the establishment with a look of barely concealed disdain.

“This is where we’re stopping?” he asks.

“Unless you want to push the car the rest of the way, yes,” you reply, pulling into a parking spot near the pumps. “Come on, stretch your legs. I need to use the bathroom anyway.”

Loki unfolds himself from the car with all the grace of a cat, though his nose wrinkles as he looks around. “It smells.”

“It’s a gas station,” you say, slamming the car door. “What were you expecting? Roses?”

He doesn’t dignify that with a response, instead following you toward the building. Inside, the fluorescent lights buzz faintly, and the air smells faintly of coffee and stale popcorn. You head for the bathroom, leaving Loki to explore the aisles on his own.

When you emerge a few minutes later, you find him standing in front of a display of souvenir snow globes, one of them turning over in his hands. The miniature scene inside—a plastic snowman and a lopsided evergreen—glimmers as the “snow” swirls around it.

“Are you actually thinking about buying that?” you ask, amused.

He glances at you, then back at the snow globe. “It’s... quaint. And yet oddly mesmerizing.”

You laugh, grabbing a couple of candy bars and a bottle of water from a nearby shelf. “If you want it, get it. Consider it your first Midgardian souvenir.”

He looks at you for a moment, then nods, placing the snow globe gently on the counter as you both approach the cashier. The older man behind the register barely glances up, sliding your items across the scanner with the air of someone who’s been doing this job for far too long.

“That everything?” the cashier asks, his voice gruff.

“Yes, thank you,” you say, handing over your card.

As the cashier bags your items, Loki leans closer to you. “What exactly is the purpose of this trinket?” he whispers, nodding toward the snow globe.

“It’s just for fun,” you whisper back. “Not everything needs a purpose.”

He looks skeptical but doesn’t argue.

Back outside, you load the snacks into the car while Loki examines the gas pump like it’s some kind of alien artifact.

“Do you know how to use this?” he asks, gesturing toward the nozzle.

“Yes, I know how to use it,” you reply, rolling your eyes. “Go sit in the car. I’ll take care of it.”

He doesn’t move, instead watching intently as you swipe your card and start filling the tank. “Fascinating,” he murmurs.

“It’s really not,” you say, though you can’t help but smile. He has a way of making even the most mundane things feel... significant.

When the tank is full, you hop back into the driver’s seat, and Loki joins you, carefully placing the snow globe in the cup holder between you.

“Ready to hit the road again?” you ask.

He nods, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Indeed. Though I’m curious—what other ‘essential’ stops will we be making along the way?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” you reply, pulling back onto the highway. “Road trips are all about surprises.”

The car hums along the snowy highway, the world outside your windows stretching into a winter wonderland of frosted fields and glittering trees. Inside, however, it’s less serene. Loki sits in the passenger seat, absently flipping through the contents of the glove compartment with the unrestrained curiosity of someone poking through someone else’s junk drawer.

“Do you actually need half of this?” he asks, pulling out a map so faded it’s barely readable.

“Put that back,” you say, swatting at his hand without taking your eyes off the road. “You don’t touch the glove box. It’s sacred.”

“Sacred?” He chuckles, holding up a broken pair of sunglasses and a random assortment of gas station receipts. “Darling, this is hardly a relic worth worshipping.”

“It’s my chaos box,” you reply. “It’s not supposed to make sense. Now leave it alone before you break something.”

“Very well,” he sighs, shoving everything back with little regard for order, which makes you groan. “Though I fail to see how it could possibly get more broken.”

You glance at him, catching his smirk, and roll your eyes. “If you’re bored, you can always stare out the window dramatically and brood. That’s kind of your thing, isn’t it?”

He leans back, folding his arms across his chest in mock offense. “I do not brood.”

“Oh, you absolutely brood,” you say with a grin. “You brood so hard you make storm clouds jealous.”

He opens his mouth to retort but stops when his hand brushes the thermos of hot chocolate, which is now teetering on the edge of the cup holder. He grabs it just in time but not without spilling a healthy splash onto his coat.

“Gods,” he mutters, glaring at the stain like it personally insulted him.

You bite back a laugh but can’t resist teasing him. “Nice catch, broody. Very heroic.”

He dabs at the spot with a napkin you hand him, grumbling under his breath about “ridiculous human beverages” and “primitive travel conditions.” You’re still laughing when he huffs dramatically and folds his arms again, clearly aiming for indignation but only managing to look adorably annoyed.

A few hours later, you pull off the highway to check out a small roadside shop advertising “the best pies in the state.” It’s the kind of place you’d normally drive past, but the idea of a warm pie in the middle of a snowy road trip is too tempting to resist.

Inside, the shop is charmingly rustic, with walls covered in old photos and shelves lined with jars of preserves. You head straight to the counter, but Loki lingers near a display of homemade candles, holding one up and sniffing it cautiously.

“Vanilla bean,” he reads aloud, his tone skeptical. “Is this supposed to smell like food?”

“It’s a candle,” you reply, selecting a cherry pie from the glass case. “It’s supposed to smell nice.”

He sets the candle down, unimpressed, and joins you at the counter just as the cashier rings up your order. As you pay, Loki spots a basket of candy canes and picks one up, frowning as he examines the striped treat.

“What exactly is this?” he asks, holding it like it’s some kind of alien artifact.

“It’s a candy cane,” you say, grabbing one for yourself. “It’s minty. You’ll like it.”

He pulls off the wrapper and takes a tentative lick. His face immediately contorts into a mixture of surprise and confusion.

“This tastes like winter,” he declares.

“That’s kind of the point,” you say, unwrapping your own. “It’s festive.”

He tries another lick, then shrugs and tucks the candy cane into his coat pocket like it’s a weapon he might need later. You stifle a laugh, imagining him wielding it like a dagger.

Back on the road, you decide it’s time to test Loki’s patience. You rummage through your tote bag and pull out a festive headband adorned with two glittery reindeer antlers.

“What is that?” he asks warily.

“A gift for you,” you reply, grinning as you hold it out to him. “Put it on.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Oh, come on. It’s Christmas!” you say, leaning over to try and place the antlers on his head.

He dodges, his reflexes annoyingly quick. “I am not wearing that.”

“Why not? You’d look cute.”

“I do not do ‘cute,’” he says, crossing his arms.

“Fine,” you say with exaggerated disappointment, sliding the headband onto your own head instead. “I guess I’ll just have to be the festive one.”

“Finally, some sense,” he says, but there’s a glint of amusement in his eyes.

You’re about to retort when you glance at him and realize the candy cane he’d tucked into his pocket has fallen out and is now stuck to his scarf. He hasn’t noticed, but the sight of him sitting there with a sticky candy cane dangling from his pristine scarf is too much. You burst out laughing.

“What?” he asks, frowning.

“You, uh… you’ve got something on your scarf,” you manage between giggles.

He looks down, spots the candy cane, and sighs heavily. “This is why I prefer Asgardian fabrics,” he mutters, carefully peeling the sticky mess off his scarf.

“You’re a walking Christmas disaster,” you say, still laughing.

“And yet, here you are, subjecting me to all of this,” he replies, though there’s no real bite to his words.

“Because you love it,” you tease.

He glances at you, his expression softening. “Perhaps I do.”

As the sun begins to set, you find yourself driving through a picturesque little town, its streets lined with twinkling lights and festive decorations. Loki, who has been staring out the window for the past few minutes, suddenly sits up straighter.

“What’s that?” he asks, pointing to a small group of people gathered around a fire pit in the town square.

“Looks like a caroling group,” you say, slowing down to get a better look. “They’re singing Christmas songs.”

“Fascinating,” he murmurs.

“You want to stop?” you ask, half-joking.

He surprises you by nodding. “Yes. I’d like to see this.”

You pull into a parking spot, and the two of you wander over to the group, who are enthusiastically belting out Deck the Halls. Loki stands slightly apart, watching with an expression you can’t quite read.

After a few minutes, one of the carolers notices him and offers him a songbook. “Would you like to join us?”

Loki hesitates, glancing at you. You give him an encouraging nod, trying not to laugh at the idea of the god of mischief singing Christmas carols. To your amazement, he accepts the book and flips it open.

What follows is perhaps the most surreal and hilarious thing you’ve ever witnessed. Loki, with his deep, smooth voice, joins in on Silent Night, his usual air of confidence somehow making the song sound like a solemn Asgardian hymn. The carolers seem delighted, but you’re struggling not to laugh so hard you cry.

When the song ends, Loki hands the book back and turns to you, one eyebrow raised. “What?” he asks, clearly aware of your barely contained laughter.

“Nothing,” you say, grinning. “You’re just… full of surprises.”

He smirks, slipping his arm around your waist as you head back to the car. “And you wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The town square is straight out of a holiday movie. Strings of fairy lights crisscross above the cobblestone streets, casting everything in a warm, golden glow. The shop windows are decorated with frosted garlands and tiny ornaments, and the faint scent of cinnamon and roasted chestnuts wafts through the crisp air.

“This place is... quaint,” Loki remarks, though there’s no malice in his tone. If anything, he seems intrigued.

You grin, taking his hand and giving it a tug. “Come on, let’s walk around. Stretch our legs before we hit the road again.”

His fingers tighten around yours, and you set off down the street together, weaving through the small clusters of people enjoying the festivities. Loki, with his impossibly perfect posture and graceful strides, looks somewhat out of place among the casual, bundled-up townsfolk, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

At one point, you stop in front of a shop window displaying tiny porcelain houses arranged in a Christmas village scene. Snowflakes painted on the glass catch the light, giving everything a magical shimmer.

“Do people in Midgard really live in houses that small?” Loki asks, leaning closer to inspect the display.

You laugh, standing on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “No, they’re just decorations. They’re supposed to be cute.”

He tilts his head, considering this. “I suppose they have their charm.”

You stay there for a moment, watching him as his gaze shifts from the display to the reflection of the twinkling lights in the glass. His face softens, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

“What?” he asks, catching you staring.

“Nothing,” you say, smiling. “Just glad you’re here.”

He looks at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable, and then leans down to press a kiss to your lips. It’s soft and unhurried, the kind of kiss that makes the rest of the world melt away. When he pulls back, his thumb brushes lightly against your cheek.

“Likewise,” he murmurs.

The spell is broken by the distant sound of a bell jingling, signaling someone entering a nearby shop. You laugh softly and take his hand again, leading him further down the street.

You walk for a while, pausing occasionally to peek into shop windows or admire the decorations. At one point, you pass a small stand selling roasted chestnuts and decide to grab a bag to share. Loki takes one, examines it like he’s expecting it to come to life, and finally pops it into his mouth.

“Well?” you ask, grinning.

He chews thoughtfully before nodding. “Better than pretzels.”

“That’s high praise,” you tease, nudging him playfully with your shoulder.

Eventually, your wanderings lead you to a cozy little restaurant tucked away on a side street. Its glowing sign reads The Holly & Hearth, and through the frosted windows, you can see the warm glow of candlelit tables and hear the faint hum of conversation.

“This looks nice,” you say, glancing at Loki. “Shall we?”

He nods, holding the door open for you like the gentleman he so often pretends not to be. Inside, the restaurant is as charming as its name suggests, with rustic wooden beams, a crackling fireplace, and tables adorned with holly wreaths and red candles. A cheerful hostess greets you and leads you to a cozy booth near the window.

As you settle into your seat, Loki shrugs off his coat and places it neatly beside him. You, on the other hand, haphazardly toss yours onto the seat next to you and lean back with a sigh.

“Finally, real food,” you say, glancing at the menu. “Not that I don’t love snacks, but I can’t live on pretzels and gummy bears alone.”

“I don’t know how you managed this long,” Loki replies, his eyes scanning the menu with mild curiosity.

The two of you place your orders—warm soup and freshly baked bread for you, and a hearty roast for Loki. While you wait for your food, you sip on hot cider and talk about nothing in particular. It’s easy, comfortable, and you can’t help but marvel at how natural it feels to share these little moments with him.

That is, until you notice Loki’s expression shift.

His posture straightens, and his gaze narrows slightly as he glances around the room. You follow his line of sight and realize he’s looking at a group of men seated at the bar. They’re not exactly subtle about the way they’re watching you, their gazes lingering a little too long on the curve of your legs and the snug fit of your sweater.

You glance back at Loki, whose jaw is now clenched. His fingers drum lightly against the table, an almost imperceptible but telling sign of his irritation.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, though you have a pretty good idea.

He doesn’t answer immediately, his gaze still fixed on the men. Finally, he leans in slightly, lowering his voice. “They’re staring at you.”

You laugh softly, brushing it off. “It’s not a big deal. People stare sometimes.”

“It is a big deal,” he replies, his tone clipped. “They’re ogling you like... like wolves.”

You bite your lip, trying not to smile at his indignation. “It’s fine, Loki. Let them look. I’m here with you.”

He doesn’t seem convinced, his eyes flicking back to the men, who are now pretending to be interested in their drinks but still sneaking glances in your direction. You reach across the table, placing your hand over his.

“Hey,” you say softly, drawing his attention back to you. “You don’t have to be jealous.”

He arches an eyebrow. “Jealous? I am not jealous.”

“Uh-huh,” you reply, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “You’re definitely not jealous.”

He huffs, clearly trying to maintain his composure, but his free hand moves to rest possessively on your knee under the table. The gesture is subtle but unmistakable, and it sends a pleasant little thrill through you.

“You’re cute when you’re protective,” you tease, leaning forward slightly.

He smirks, though his gaze remains slightly guarded. “I am not cute.”

“Sure you’re not,” you say, your voice teasingly sweet.

Before he can respond, your food arrives, and you’re momentarily distracted by the comforting aroma of warm bread and hearty soup. Loki, however, is still keeping an eye on the men at the bar, his expression one of thinly veiled annoyance.

As you eat, you make a point of keeping the conversation light, hoping to draw his attention back to you. It works—for the most part. He relaxes a little, though his hand remains on your knee, his thumb occasionally brushing against your leg in a way that makes it very hard to focus on your soup.

When you’re both finished eating, you lean back with a satisfied sigh, savoring the lingering warmth of the cider. Loki watches you for a moment, his earlier tension finally melting away.

“You’re entirely too captivating for your own good,” he says, his voice low and warm.

You smile, reaching across the table to take his hand. “And you’re entirely too dramatic.”

He chuckles, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Perhaps.”

The moment is interrupted by the sound of one of the men at the bar laughing a little too loudly. Loki’s gaze flicks to them again, and you can practically see the wheels turning in his head.

“Don’t do anything,” you warn, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Who, me?” he asks innocently, though the mischievous glint in his eyes suggests otherwise.

“Yes, you,” you reply. “Let’s just pay the bill and get out of here, okay?”

He sighs but nods, and you flag down the waitress to settle up. As you slip into your coat, you feel Loki’s arm wrap around your waist, pulling you close as you make your way toward the door. It’s a subtle but unmistakable display, and you can’t help but smile as you glance up at him.

“Feeling better?” you ask as you step out into the chilly night air.

“Much,” he replies, his lips curving into a satisfied smirk. “Though I still don’t like the way they were looking at you.”

You laugh, leaning into his side as you walk back to the car. “Well, you don’t have to worry. I only have eyes for you.”

He stops, turning to face you with a serious expression. For a moment, the teasing is gone, replaced by something deeper.

“I know,” he says softly, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. “But I can’t help it. You’re... everything.”

Your breath catches, and before you can respond, he leans down and kisses you. It’s slow and sweet, the kind of kiss that leaves you feeling warm despite the cold air around you. When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, and you can see the faintest hint of vulnerability in his eyes.

“You’re everything to me too,” you whisper, smiling up at him.

He presses another quick kiss to your lips before pulling away, his smirk returning. “Good. Now let’s get back on the road before you tempt me to abandon this journey entirely.”

Laughing, you take his hand and head for the car, ready to continue your adventure together.

You both make your way back to the car, the chill of the night air nipping at your cheeks. Loki’s hand stays warm in yours as you slip into the car, and despite his earlier grumbling about the road trip, there’s an almost reluctant contentment to the way he settles into his seat next to you. You adjust the rearview mirror, settle the gearshift into drive, and take a deep breath, ready to continue the journey.

“Ready for this?” you ask, glancing over at him as you pull out of the restaurant’s parking lot.

Loki looks at you, a slight smirk on his lips, but there’s something softer behind his mischievous eyes. “As ready as I’ll ever be,” he says, his tone a little more serious than before.

You take that in stride and shift the car back onto the main road, the headlights cutting through the snow-covered streets. The gentle hum of the engine fills the space between you as you make your way toward the highway again, the familiar roads taking you further from the cozy warmth of the small town and closer to your family’s home.

As the miles slip by, the temperature outside continues to drop, and you turn up the heat just a little bit. The soft flicker of the dashboard lights casts a glow over Loki’s features as he shifts in his seat, pulling his jacket tighter around him.

“So,” you start, breaking the silence, “have you decided what you’re going to wear tomorrow? The family dinner?”

Loki looks over at you, a little surprised. “Wear?” he repeats, raising an eyebrow. “You didn’t tell me there was a dress code.”

You laugh lightly. “Well, it’s not a formal event or anything, but my family tends to go all out on Christmas Eve, so… I don’t want you showing up in your typical black and leather. Trust me, my mom won’t let you hear the end of it.”

Loki chuckles under his breath, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You think she’ll mind if I show up in a full Asgardian outfit? Complete with the crown?”

You roll your eyes, but the warmth that fills your chest at the thought of Loki trying to make an impression on your family is undeniable. “You know my mom would love that. And my dad, too, probably. You’d definitely steal the spotlight.”

“Is that not the goal?” Loki says with an innocent grin, and you can’t help but laugh.

“Sure, but not at the expense of your dignity.”

“I have plenty of dignity to spare,” he says, leaning back in the seat. “Besides, I find this whole ‘family’ thing fascinating. You’ve mentioned your parents quite a lot, but I’ve never met them. Do they, uh… approve of me?”

You glance at him, surprised by the slight hesitation in his voice. He’s trying to act casual, but you can tell it’s more important to him than he’s letting on.

“Of course they do,” you say softly. “They’re excited to meet you. I wouldn’t be bringing you if I didn’t think you’d get along.”

Loki nods, though his gaze seems to linger on the passing road ahead. “I’ll try my best to… behave.”

You can’t help but smile, reaching over to rest your hand on his. “I think they’ll like you. Just be yourself. But also, maybe, try not to antagonize my dad too much.”

He raises an eyebrow, giving you a teasing look. “Antagonize? Me? Never. What makes you think I’d do such a thing?”

You laugh again, the sound light and carefree, and you both settle back into a comfortable silence. The road ahead stretches on, snowy fields and frosted trees blurring past your window. The quiet of the car feels familiar, the two of you sharing the journey together without needing to fill every moment with words.

After what feels like both a long time and no time at all, you see the sign that signals the turnoff toward your parents' house. You breathe a small sigh of relief, the excitement of being close now outweighing any lingering nerves. You’ve been looking forward to this—both the chance to see your family and share this part of your life with Loki.

As you pull up the winding drive, the house looms ahead, a two-story home with red brick and a sprawling front yard that’s been decorated with twinkling lights, wreaths, and even a couple of reindeer statues. It looks like something straight out of a Hallmark movie, and you can’t help but smile at the sight.

“This is it,” you say, slowing the car to a stop just in front of the porch.

Loki glances around, his eyes scanning the house and the decorations. “Very festive,” he says, though his voice holds a note of amusement. “I didn’t expect this much cheer.”

You turn the car off, giving him a quick glance. “Don’t worry. My family’s great, but they’ll take it easy on you. They just… love Christmas a little more than most.”

Loki gives you a wry smile. “I’m sure they’ll find a way to make me feel completely at home.”

You roll your eyes, but the truth is, you’re just as nervous as he is. “You’ll be fine,” you reassure him, giving his hand a squeeze before you open the door.

As you step out, the chilly air immediately hits you, and you pull your coat tighter around yourself. Loki follows you, his movements fluid as always, and you both make your way up the steps to the door.

Before you can even reach for the handle, the door swings open, revealing your mom standing in the doorway, beaming. She’s wearing a festive red sweater with snowflakes and her hair pulled back into a loose bun. The moment she sees you, her smile widens even further.

“There you are!” she says, wrapping her arms around you in a warm hug. “We’ve been waiting for you. And I take it this is the infamous Loki?”

Your mom pulls away and glances at him, her smile not wavering for even a second. Loki, for his part, looks like he’s preparing for a battle, but when your mom gives him an easy smile and extends her hand, he hesitates only for a moment before shaking it.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” he says, his voice smooth but a little guarded.

“Likewise,” your mom says with a laugh, clearly not phased by his formal demeanor. “Come on in! Dinner’s almost ready.”

You shoot Loki a look, reassuring him with a soft smile as you step into the warmth of the house. The scent of freshly baked bread, roasting meats, and spices fills the air. The living room is lit by a crackling fire, and the familiar decorations you grew up with are scattered throughout the house. It feels like home.

As you enter the living room, your father, who’s seated in his favorite armchair by the fire, looks up from his book and stands. He’s a tall man with broad shoulders, a salt-and-pepper beard, and a warm, welcoming presence. The moment he sees you, his stern face breaks into a huge smile.

“There she is! My favorite daughter!” he exclaims, holding his arms out to pull you into a bear hug.

Your father’s voice booms, but there’s no mistaking the love behind it. When he pulls back, he glances over at Loki, sizing him up with a raised eyebrow.

“And this must be Loki,” he says, his voice less warm but still friendly. “You’re a little different than I expected, but no less intriguing.”

Loki stands a little straighter under your father’s gaze, clearly aware of the scrutiny. “I’m not sure what your expectations were, but I assure you, I’m… delightful once you get to know me.”

Your father chuckles, extending his hand. “I’ll take your word for it. Welcome to our home.”

Loki hesitates only for a second before shaking your father’s hand firmly, and you can see a flicker of approval pass between them, though it’s still a little tentative.

The moment is interrupted by a voice from behind you, and you turn to see your older brother, Matt, standing in the hallway, grinning widely.

“Well, look who finally showed up! Did you get lost on the way here?” he teases.

You roll your eyes and go to greet him. “Shut up, Matt,” you say, giving him a quick hug. “I didn’t get lost.”

Matt, always the joker, looks over at Loki with a raised eyebrow. “So, you’re the infamous god of mischief, huh?”

Loki, who’s clearly been getting all kinds of attention from your family, puts on his best regal smile. “In the flesh,” he replies smoothly, though there’s a hint of annoyance in his tone.

You can feel the subtle tension in the air, but your mom comes to the rescue by clapping her hands together.

“Alright, enough of the introductions! Everyone, dinner’s ready!”

As you all head into the dining room, you can feel Loki’s posture relax just a little, but you can tell he’s still a little on edge, trying to navigate the maze of your family’s personalities.

You smile to yourself, a little giddy at the thought that this—this chaotic, perfect mess—is your family. And Loki? Well, he’ll get used to it, and in time, they’ll warm up to him just as much as you have.

[nothing-leave-me-alone]

Cog in the machine au

Character hc

Orion

Didn't have many friend among the miners as he kept getting into trouble and demoted or moved to toegr departments.

Isn't the best at making friends as he is used to being moved from one place to the other

His last job in the upper levels was with Elita group but darkwing threw him to level 50 quickly after.... No one but Elita noticed that he was missing.

It's down there that he meets his best(only) friend, B-127, or bee as he likes to call him.

Orion is slightly smaller and weaker due to having alredy little energon down in lv50 and also having to share it with me

He still sneaks out and onto the archives pretty often. But now he does it with company as bee refuses to let him go him alone

Others don't reconize them as Orion and bee but those two crazy bots that run around some times.

He always tries to give what energon he saves up to bee out of worry for the trouble he brings him on

B-127

Was so so happy when he met Orion. New coworker (best friend forever and ever) let's go! Calls him pax because he couldn't think of a better nickname

Elita

Super excited to go out with pax to the archive and help out everyone find the matrix. That way they'll never go hungry again and they can go out like all the other cogless!

He and Orion are 100% the younger brother older brother duo. He idolizes Orion

While Steve and company were great, Orion is now his BFF, so sadly the guys need to be moved out since Orion need a place to sleep and plan their search to for the matrix

Still very chatty and Orion encourages this. They are eachothers only constant after having such an unstable life so they cling a bit (a lot)

He has told Orion all of his high guard facts. Orion now looks for stickers and info on the high guard as b-127 is a huge fan

I headcanon him as a starscream fan

With the space they have at their table to sleep Orion made mini versions of starscream and his trines alt modes and hung them on the ceiling for them to see

Tries to give what energon he saves to orion in turn

She was the last boss Orion had before darkwing demoted him to lv50

She was so worried when she couldn't find that new guy and no one knew where he was

She finally asked megatron what had happened and after much pressing she was told they where in lv50.... She was horrified and worried but there was nothing she could do

Since she isn't Orion's boss for long she isn't as harsh on his behavior, but she is very worried for them. (giving Elita my eldest daughter syndrome)

She often sends down energon and medical supplies for them.

They aren't her responsability or problem.... But someone has to look after them. Primus knows they don't do that themselves

Without Orion or d-16 a cavein killed jazz.... Elita blames herself and can't even manage to defend herself when darkwing fires her.

She failed jazz, she failed her team, and she feels she's constantly failing Orion and bee. At least in waste management there's no one she can let down and she has more chances to see her two clowns

She saw them on the race and nearly threw herself in the track to drag them out.

"what sort of idiot cogless would run on the race? ..... SCRAP THSOE ARE MY IDIOTS!!"

Ran to the infirmary thinking the worst had happened as she didn't stick around to see the race and stumbled onto megatron and darkwing who had been hurt by Orion and B-127 in the race

Megatron

Another mine supervisor with darkwing

While not as cruel he is much more strict

Couldn't tolerate Orion and his disregard for megatrons perfect plan to a mediocre yet simple and stable life

He has few friends. As in.... None

He is too dedicated to his job and has no time for a social life. So anything that upsets the balance of this causes him bouts of anger.

Still a big megatronus prime fan and sentinel idolizer with darkwing.

His relationship with darkwing is somewhat of a asshole idler brother, loser little brother. Megatron desperetly craves aprobal and beloved he can earn that by working his aft off.

Megatron tries to impress him, as he is his superior and a many times racer of the iacon 5000. But darkwing at best mocks him and plays it off as a 'joke' this leading to megatron being a bystander to his abuse of the cogless

After the iacon 5000 he had stopped just before he could hit B-127 graveously, and it caused both him and darkwing to not cross the finish line

Darkwing was pissed and fired him. Put him as supervisor of waste management.

He subconsciously begins to crack. All that he worked for just went down the drain because he didn't hit one meager cogless bot....