#this is going to be extra funny bc even when i wore make up it was just like. grungey alt emo kid shit skfjhkfjhskjf idk how to do

[scalpelsister]

being out of the closet as a lesbian but not as masc sure is. a cool experience to have. around family.

[sungbeam]

007!ji changmin x f!reader

you're sent to montenegro to infiltrate a high-stakes poker game, but with the world hanging in the balance, it's a good thing m's sending her best employee along with you—agent 007, ji changmin.

▷ genre, warnings. f2l, james bond/007/spy au, action, suspense, pining(?), minimal angst, humor bc i'm me, violence, blood, death, mentions of alcohol, mentions of weaponry, mentions of corruption, swearing, kissing, near-death experiences, mentions of terrorism but not explicitly discussed, the ending is kinda cheesy im sorry it's late and i like making him yearn, barely proofread (dudes it's so late when im writing this)

▷ word count. 11.1k

▷ based on. casino royale (2006)

a/n: this is for @winterchimez ally's 007 files collab! pls check out the other fics that have been posted 😎 also, this is way lighter than the actual movie, so uhm, yeah!

YOU KNEW FROM THE MOMENT you first stepped into your position as an agent of the Treasury, that Kenneth Kang would be a thorn in your side. Perhaps not even a thorn, but a massive pain in the neck, the back, the ass. He was a man with a helm of pomade for hair and an ego the size of Russia, who, for some odd reason, despised you.

It was funny… the last time you checked, an entity such as Russia wouldn't be so easily threatened by someone like yourself. But here was Kenneth Kang, continuing to email you passive aggressive correspondence as if he wasn't butthurt the director chose you for this task rather than him.

After all, only the best of the best were selected to assist MI6 with their assignments. The fate of the world hung in the balance.

You told Kenneth just that in your last (hopefully) email to him for the trip: The quarterly reports are still due on Monday, Kang. Remember that Director Song excused me from them because I'm off to go save the world—ta-ta! Or something to that effect.

It was unfortunate the government monitored everyone's emails or you would've signed off with something wildly hilarious like “Love (if pigs flew), Director Song's Favorite <3 (not you)”—that would stick it to him—

A clearing throat drew your attention away from your laptop so abruptly, you were glad you didn't get whiplash.

“This seat taken?” You didn't catch a clear glimpse of the man's face before he was already claiming the seat across from you. The voice was awfully familiar, and when you finally saw him, you understood why.

You nearly did a double take, but the surprise swiftly melted away like glaciers in the spring to something like warm amusement. “Ah, do I—uh—know you, sir?” You asked, gently folding your laptop closed so you can gesture to the teapot before you. “Tea?”

Ji Changmin leaned back in his chair, eyes darting from the view outside the train car window and back to you. He dragged his gaze up and down your form, the back of his knuckles pressed against his lips. It did nothing to hide his smile. “Tea would be lovely, thanks.”

You obliged, refilling your cup with the hot beverage and pouring a decent amount into the extra teacup and saucer on his half of the table.

The two of you were currently on a train to Montenegro. Less than 48 hours ago, you were summoned into your director's office, only for the head of MI6 (the elusive M) to join you. You were debriefed on a high stakes poker game being hosted by a man notoriously reputed for funding terrorist organizations around the globe. You were told that M would be sending her “best” along with you to be dealt into the game—you were never given the agent's name or identification number.

But now that you were nearly an hour's ride away from Montenegro, it seemed he finally decided to reveal himself.

“Are you sure you don't remember me, Miss?” He asked, eyebrows raised over the rim of his teacup. “I was so sure that I left a lasting impression on you the last time.”

You slowly raked your eyes over the sharp, dark blue suit he wore, the white dress shirt beneath opened up at the collar, his wrist fitted with a watch that glistened in the afternoon light filtering in through the window. He had cropped his hair since the last time you saw Agent 007, M's so-called “best.” That was about two years ago, when there was a joint-branch charity gala and the two of you shared a dance before he was called away. Before that, you reckoned it was likely your graduation from Cambridge.

Time flew, you supposed, and you'd both been busy.

The corner of your lips lifted as you took a ginger sip of your tea. “Well then, you'll have to do a better job this time. What brings you to Montenegro?”

“Ah, business. You know how it is.”

“A truly dull answer,” you remarked. He couldn't come up with better conversation? You expected more from the man who always prided himself on buttery smooth lines. Where was the fun in ‘business’? “No wonder you've got all of that on. You're dressed like you're about to go buy a company.”

“Could I buy your company?” He asked in jest, tilting his head to the side.

You set your teacup down and a smile flitted over your lips. “I don't think you'd ever have enough money in the world for that.”

He chuckled then and ran his tongue over his bottom lip, catching a droplet of tea clinging to it. “Challenge accepted.”

When the train pulled into the station at Montenegro, it was just about a quarter past two in the afternoon. You and Changmin stood up from your cozy two-seater table to prepare to disembark. You rifled through your laptop tote for your wallet, but before you could retrieve your money, Changmin was already dropping bills on the table.

“Is this yours?” He asked, placing a hand on the bag stowed above the seat. It was a duffle bag that ranged on the smaller size with enough room to store your toiletries, emergency items, and any other things you might have needed. You were informed that clothing and the like would be in your accommodations waiting for you—there must have been a strict dress code for this event.

You shouldered your purse. “Yes, I'm traveling light.”

“Same here.” He grabbed your bag for you, and the two of you were off, shuffling down the aisle toward the nearest exit. Light, indeed. He didn't seem to have any luggage on him, but you supposed an agent of his caliber was provided everything he needed at his accommodations.

The train station, at this hour, was rather busy. People bustled to and fro to get to their trains, the parking lot, the ticket booth, the works. Your instructions once you'd arrived in Montenegro were to get in touch with the agent who was assigned to this case, and that you already accomplished. Until now, that was about all you knew, barring the general mission at-hand.

“I assume you’ll be staying at the Hotel Splendide, as well?” You voiced to him as you walked by his side toward the valet at the front of the station. You never knew a train station to have a valet, but you supposed it made sense if there were luxury, long-haul train cars.

“Your assumption would be correct,” he said. “In fact, we’re sharing a room.” The reveal of this information nearly had you tripping over your own shoes, and you were sure you saw a ghost of a smile make it onto his lips. You narrowed your eyes at him as he carried onward—of course, the two of you were sharing a room. What cover did MI6 even come up with? Something incredibly original like a married couple, you’d bet. Or, god forbid, a man and his mistress. (The thought made you gag.)

Changmin made eye contact with the valet boy, his chin inclining toward him. “Afternoon. It should be under ‘Ji.’”

The boy traced his finger down the edge of his tablet screen and his eyes lit up in recognition. “Ah yes, Mr. Ji,” he said, grabbing a keychain from his station and tossing it over to Changmin, “your car was just delivered two minutes ago. Have a nice trip, sir.”

“Thank you.” A rolled up bill was exchanged so fast that you thought you’d imagined it, and Changmin was walking onward down the length of the curved curb toward a parked vehicle. You followed swiftly after him, and upon further inspection, realized that the vehicle he was striding towards was a sleek Aston Martin in a classy shade of silver. It looked like something straight out of Hollywood, the sight nearly making your knees buckle. It was enough to say that all thoughts of you sharing a room with Changmin flew out the Aston Martin’s window.

Changmin gave a laugh at your reaction, opening the passenger side door for you. “You look more excited to see this car than me, sweetheart.”

“Was I that obvious? She’s beautiful.” You couldn’t help but grin back as you slipped into the smooth, leather seat. The interior was just as beautiful and sleek, with dark colored leather and a shiny center console. While you buckled yourself in, you heard Changmin deposit your bag in the backseat before rounding the car to take his place in the driver’s side.

“I can’t say I disagree,” he said, the door slamming. He retrieved a pair of aviator sunglasses from a compartment above the rearview mirror, donning them, then flashing you a dimpled smile. “Shall we?”

Changmin revved up the engine and pulled out of the train station's front lot onto the scenic road that would wind down the mountains to reach the portside where Hotel Splendide was located.

“I haven't seen you in two years, have you been well?” You piped up, now that the two of you were alone.

He hummed. “Ah, for the most part, yes—I’ve been alright.”

“Trotting the globe, I bet?”

“You'd win that bet, for sure,” he mused. He passed you a brief glance, turning his eyes back to the road. “And you?”

You mimicked the humming sound he'd made earlier. “I've been decent. Just work most days; you know how it is.”

He nodded his understanding. “Social life just as dead as uni?”

An incredulous sound flew out of your mouth, your hand swatting his arm to coax an impish smile from him. “I have friends!”

“Significant others then,” he offered.

You bristled in your seat and met his grin with a stink eye. “There are more important things than finding romance.”

“Still the same Yn as I remember,” he teased. “Now I know you're not an imposter.” A beat of silence, and then, “M must have been very pleased with your performance records to have approved of your director's choice. Not that I'm surprised; you've always been exceptional in your field.”

You turned your head to face the window on your side, barely hiding the pleased smile on your face from his compliment. It had taken a lot of hard work to get where you were, and you should've been proud of yourself. “I appreciate that. Though, I'm sure the fact that we know each other might have something to do with it, too.”

“I think that's just an added bonus,” he remarked optimistically. “You'll know how to keep me in check.” That was, literally speaking, exactly what your role here was. While Changmin was dealt into the game, you controlled the amount of money he was able to use or bet with. Because you were the trusted agent of the Treasury, you would be privy to the amount of money appropriate to use from the government's coffers.

“Who knew one partner project would lead to us saving the world together?” He added offhandedly with almost a nostalgic sort of whimsy.

“Are you ready to be a team player this time, though?” You asked, eyebrow raised. “The rumors say you enjoy flying solo.”

“I fly solo when it's dangerous,” he corrected. Which, you guessed, was most of the time in his line of work.

“So you're saying this mission isn't dangerous?”

“A poker game?” He laughed. “The only dangerous thing about it is gonna be how fast I'm going to win.”

The Hotel Splendide was as splendid as its name suggested. The grand, white limestone facade was carved with arched windows and statues, sleek columns and balconies. This side faced out into the waterfront, giving all arriving patrons a beautiful view of the port.

Changmin directed his car into the cobblestone roundabout at the front of the hotel. When he brought the vehicle to a stop, a bellboy in a maroon colored uniform opened your car door for you and offered a hand to help you out.

“Thank you,” you murmured, rolling your neck and stretching your limbs from the hour-long car ride.

Changmin emerged from the driver's side with his keys in hand, speaking to another attendant about being careful with his vehicle. He rounded the car just as the bellboy grabbed your duffle from the backseat.

“Welcome to the Hotel Splendide. This way to the check-in counter please,” the bellboy said, gesturing toward the front door, framed by an amber-toned awning and crowned in a myriad of flags from around the world.

You felt Changmin's palm warm the small of your back as you clutched your laptop purse in your hands. “Of course, thank you.”

The hotel’s foyer was just as magnificent as its outside. A crystalline chandelier hung from the high-domed ceiling, painting the room in a luxurious champagne gold, while the marble floors were lined in a deep crimson velvet. The front desk was to your immediate left with a number of staff stationed behind it.

The woman you and Changmin went to greeted you both with a polite smile. “Welcome to the Hotel Splendide. May I have the name of your reservation, please?”

“Ji,” your friend answered, “James Ji.”

Your eyebrows flew to your hairline.

“Ah,” the woman said, “but of course, Mr. Ji. Yours and your assistant's suite has been prepared for your arrival.”

Assistant? While she readied the key cards for you, you met Changmin’s gaze with a number of questions in your eyes. He only answered with a helpless expression.

Assistant? As if.

For fear of jeopardizing the mission by correcting the cover MI6 so generously assigned you, you reluctantly kept your mouth shut.

The desk clerk pushed a pair of cards across the polished wood toward you and Changmin—key cards. “These are your keys for your stay in room 700. All amenities, such as room service and the spa, are included in the fees you paid while booking. Your luggage will be delivered to your room for you. Anything you might need may be addressed via the phone in your suite or here at the front desk.”

(Assistant? Did you look like a fucking assistant?)

Changmin collected the room keys and passed you one. “Excellent, thank you. Did any mail arrive for me?”

“Yes, sir. A small parcel was delivered directly to your suite, as well as several garment bags. You'll find them in your wardrobe. Is that all?”

With nothing else to be addressed, you and Changmin thanked the front desk attendant and you were shuttled toward the elevators at the end of the hall. It was a good thing the elevator carriage made a swift arrival, because as soon as the doors slid closed, you let your frustrations be known.

“Assistant?” You exclaimed, gesticulating frustratedly. “Out of all the cover options? That woman probably thinks I'm your mistress!”

“I didn't choose it,” Changmin said, raising his palms in surrender. Though, it was clear by his expression that he was at least amused by your reaction.

You rolled your eyes, then narrowed them and crossed your arms over your chest. “What if you were the assistant, hm? Why aren't I the rich lady with a handsome secretary I take on vacation with me?”

His grin was teasing as he leaned closer to you, your breath hitching for a split second. There was a brief moment where your senses were fully engulfed by the smell of his cologne and the way a lock of his hair curled over his forehead. “You think I'm handsome?”

As if the universe could feel the warmth rising to your cheeks, the elevator doors mercifully opened onto the seventh floor.

He leaned away, something self-satisfied playing on his mouth as he returned his hand to your back. “Okay,” he drawled, “say I'm your handsome assistant…”

“I'm never living that down, am I?” You groaned, already feeling the headache spike in your temples. Your eyes fluttered about the corridor you entered; it was just as beautiful as the lobby downstairs, but with a slightly moodier glow to the lights as if not to disturb any of the patrons on this floor should they wish for an escape from downstair's hustle and bustle.

“Imagine if Chanhee found out you'd said that.”

“Don't get me started on Chanhee.” Room 700 appeared in your sight, and you smacked your key card against the card reader before letting yourself into the room. As the lights flickered on, you asked Changmin from over your shoulder, “Have you heard from him recently, by the way?”

Chanhee was a mutual friend from your college days. While he was technically a closer friend to Changmin, you'd met Chanhee through Changmin after your partner project and grabbed dinner together every once in a while whenever Chanhee was in town.

You were already making a beeline to the bathroom when you heard the hotel room door close and lock behind Changmin. “Recently? Depends on your definition of ‘recently.’”

The sound of your sigh echoed as you absentmindedly fixed your hair in the reflection. Train hair wasn't as poor as airplane hair, that was for sure. “He misses you,” you said in a singsong tone.

“Is that right?” He chuckled. “I'll shoot him a text then.”

He appeared in the reflection behind you holding two black garment bags, one in each hand. He'd shed his suit jacket somewhere, the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up to expose his forearms. “These are ours for tonight,” he said to you, handing you the one with your name on it.

Ah, tonight. “Thanks,” you said, taking a peek inside to see what exactly was prepared for you. Your curiosity piqued at the sight of deep wine red fabric, but you didn't look any further for the time being.

“Are you ready for tonight?” He asked, stealing a glance at you as he brushed his hair back in the mirror.

At the proximity of tonight's events, you suddenly felt your heart rate climb. Before when this was only an assignment, the gravity of the situation hadn't fallen over you yet. But now that it was your current reality, it began to rush at you with the speed of an oncoming train.

You steeled your nerves. You were tapped to carry out this task for a reason. The only thing you had to do was be wary of Changmin's spending; he was doing the heavy lifting. Even if you were about to be in a room with a few dozen other dangerous people.

You swallowed, nodding. “Ready as I'll ever be.”

He pressed his lips together, his dimples appearing in his cheeks but not because of joy. There was a step forward, then another. “Hey,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone, “I won't let anything bad happen to you or to anybody; that's what I'm here for.”

He draped his garment over his arm and leaned against the bathroom counter beside you. “If we both do our jobs right, we'll be fine. Do you know who our target is? Just so you're aware of who to look out for.”

You nodded, “Le Chiffre.” That was the name of the host of tonight's poker game. He was high on the MI6's most wanted list, and tonight was a critical effort to put a stop to his movements, as well as the credibility he had with his clients. You'd seen pictures of this man—the cold of his eyes and the pale scar that disabled one of his pupils—you were well aware of what he looked like.

“Good,” he murmured. “Then you stay far away from him, got it, sweetheart?”

“Got it.”

Though the gravity of the situation hung heavy in the room after that conversation, Changmin ordered the two of you room service before you needed to prepare for the poker game. You figured food in your stomach would keep you grounded and lessen the nerves trilling through you and making your extremities feel cold to the touch.

Dinner shared in the privacy of your hotel room with an old friend was pleasant. You both sat on the couch sectional next to each other, his arm laid casually over the back of where you sat, as you caught up and dined. There was something oddly warm in his eyes… you didn't know what it was that made him seem so clued into what you were saying, as if he was spellbound. You figured it must be the training he underwent; after all, if he couldn't just muscle his way to an answer, then seduction was also a powerful tool at his disposal.

You just wondered why it was seeping into his interaction with you. Perhaps it became second nature for him to be this way—to lean into every word you said, to brighten at the sound of your laugh, to mirror every smile. To make you feel like you were the only person in his world and that you were all that mattered.

By the time nine o'clock rolled around and you were in the bathroom preparing for the game, your nerves had calmed considerably.

The dress that MI6 provided you was a deep wine evening gown that hugged your upper body and cascaded down the length of your legs before it hung just above your feet. The satin was gathered and left to create a cowl at the neckline, and somebody had thought it was a fabulous idea to leave a high slit in one side all the way up to mid-thigh height. (One wrong move and you were screwed.)

It was as if a river of wine physically wrapped around you as a garment for the night.

Though you appreciated the beauty of it, it only served to make you realize that perhaps controlling Changmin's spending wasn't your only job tonight; your other purpose was to distract everyone else. You weren't sure how you felt about that.

A knock sounded at the bathroom door just as you were fitting on a pair of matching ruby earrings. “Yn?”

“Just a second,” you said. You pushed the earring backing into place and hustled over to open the door. “I'm just finishing… hey.”

Changmin had changed into an all-black suit, a classic piece of uniform that was tailored perfectly to his proportions. His eyes were hooded and dark as he drank you in like a glass of Pinot Noir.

A low whistle drifted out from his lips. “If I'm being honest, you might be a liability in this dress.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you said, turning back to return to the bathroom counter.

Changmin trailed after you, almost dumbfounded, like he'd forgotten why he'd knocked on the door in the first place.

You tried to suppress your smile as you handed him his comb. “See something you like?”

His eyes met yours in the mirror, tongue swiping over his bottom lip. “I do.”

Your expression shuttered in the mirror having not expected that reply at all.

Changmin cleared his throat, stepping to your side to fix his hair with practiced grace. In no time, his appearance was complete, and he was heading out of the bathroom, his cologne lingering by you.

When you were satisfied, you turned off the bathroom light on your way out to meet Changmin in the main room. He was by the safe, fitting a fresh magazine into a silver pistol with skilled hands. He felt your gaze on the weapon and passed you a glance. “We can't carry weapons into the room,” he told you, “but it's a good idea to have one ready here.”

You bobbed your head in agreement, though you felt your shoulders tighten.

He locked up the safe before making his way toward you. “Do you know how to use one of these?” He asked.

You shook your head. “It was never in my job description,” you said quietly. “I hope you don't have to use it.”

There was a graveness to his gaze now. “I hope I don't have to either.” Because both of you knew, if it came down to it, he wouldn't hesitate.

The room where it happened was deep in the bowels of the hotel, somewhere below the casino floor and above the core of the earth. To get in, one was required an exclusive invitation, which was the item Changmin had received in the small parcel from earlier in the afternoon.

You and Changmin arrived on the scene arm in arm, your posture straight in an effort to come off as nonchalant. As you descended the velvet-lined stairs into the basement room, you were confronted by a pair of broad-shouldered bodyguards with body scanners in their hands. After retrieving Changmin's invitation, you were both scanned separately for security, before being granted entry.

The playing room was on the smaller side with a fully equipped bar on the furthest wall of the room. The centerpiece was an oval table, barred off with railings for spectators to lean on while the game was played. There were a sprinkling of others here, both players and their guests.

Your initial scan of the room, unsurprisingly, produced no familiar faces—but your arm tightened around Changmin's when you caught sight of the man of the hour. Le Chiffre stood on the opposite side of the room, nursing a coup glass of liquor as he spoke in low tones with another man. From this angle, you could see the cut of his one glassy eye and the angry scar that marred his face.

“Our four o'clock,” you muttered between your teeth to your counterpart.

Changmin glanced over out of his peripheral vision, nodding subtly. “How about a drink, sweetheart?” He asked you, his voice slightly louder than your own.

You gave a small smile, and he began to lead you over to the bar.

As the two of you moved, you couldn't shake the feeling of eyes trailing after you, something akin to spidersilk clinging to your limbs that you could never quite brush off. It was no secret that you were one of the few women in the room.

When you reached the bar, Changmin flagged the bartender down. “A vodka martini, please—shaken, not stirred—and a mint julep for the lady.”

“Right away, sir.”

You looked over at Changmin with an impressed purse of your lips. “You remembered,” you mused.

The corner of his lip tilted upward. “How could I forget?”

With your drinks served to you, you gently sipped on your mint julep. It wouldn't do you well to get drunk tonight; you just needed a little liquid courage.

From your side, Changmin stared out into the crowd, likely assessing his opponents in the room. He made a small noise of consideration that made you prompt him. He answered lowly, “You see the man to our nine o'clock?—”

You followed his instructions and casted a single glance that way. At the other end of the bar stood a man in a gray suit, nursing a rum and coke in his hands as he assessed the room for himself.

“—Lee Juyeon. CIA.”

Your eyebrows flicked upward. “Interesting. Are they after our man, too?”

“Good chance that they are,” he said and raised his glass to his lips. He swallowed the last of his drink and set the empty glass behind him, leaning the elbow closest to you against the bar behind him. “Know how to play poker?”

“I’m more of a Go Fish girl, actually.”

He sputtered a laugh, and you smiled into your glass. “You're kidding. Not even a little?”

“Go fish, Mr. Ji,” you said and gestured to him with your glass. “Do tell though, since your boss seems to have so much faith in you. What's the secret to winning poker?”

You hadn't even realized how close your faces were tilted toward each other until you registered the smell of his drink on his breath and the shine on his lips. For a plot second, you swore his eyes even dared a glance away from your own.

Neither of you backed away from the other and remained in the intimate gray space.

“The secret?” He parroted, cocking an eyebrow. He tugged at his bottom lip. “The secret is figuring out what everyone else's tells are. It's about bluffing and strategy. If you can figure out how to tell when a person is lying, then you're practically set.”

You hummed. “I see. So what's my tell?”

“Your tell?” His gaze on you was hot and heavy as his eyes devoured you slowly but surely for yet another instance tonight. You could no longer ignore the rapid hammering of your heart, its insistent palpitations threatening to expose you to the man you swore could already see right through you.

His lips pulled into a slow smile, the kind you couldn't decide if it really was a smile or a smirk. “That’s for me to know, and you to figure out.”

“You don't know then.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, sweetheart.”

A hush fell over the room. You followed everyone's eyes up to the man who had summoned the room's attention. Le Chiffre stood atop the poker table's platform with a small laptop seated upon the table's edge.

“Good evening, everyone, and welcome to the game,” he greeted coolly. “We will begin this evening's festivities with an introduction to our security protocols. This device—” he gestured to the computer, “—is fully secured to store and activate all of the night's betting money. Each player will enter a six-character code, unique to them, that will grant them access to the winning sum—should they win.”

A small murmur of laughter amongst the crowd; you didn't find it funny.

“We will begin with Mrs. Takeuchi.”

One by one, each of the players present tonight came forward to input a six-charactered passcode of their choosing. When Changmin was summoned forward, you watched as his expression became a careful, unreadable slate. He strode up toward the poker table, eyes never leaving Le Chiffre and Le Chiffre's never leaving Changmin. You could feel the tension in the room tighten, and Changmin confidently input his desired password.

When he pressed ENTER, you swore you could feel the fifteen million dollars being locked into the pot. Fifteen million was a shit ton of cash. The amount you were not willing to go beyond was twenty million. As long as Changmin played safe and played well, it wouldn't be a problem.

Not before long, the players were all summoned to the table. You sent Changmin off with a reassuring squeeze of his shoulder, and followed behind him to find a space at the railing to watch.

Changmin settled in the chair directly across from Le Chiffre.

The dealer passed out two cards to every player, each of whom hoarded a stack of chips and rectangular plaques that valued up to fifteen million. As the dealer revealed the four cards before him—two jokers, a king, and an ace—the game was on.

You weren't even sure what you were looking for, but the sinking feeling in your gut would not fade the entire game. You held onto your mint julep until it was drained, eyes trained on the cards lying face down in Changmin's hands as he watched Le Chiffre across from him like a hawk.

He was looking for his tell, you realized.

The match was tense. You couldn't pull your gaze away, for fear of missing some minute detail, even if each move made was technically quite large. In the beginning, however, it felt as though everyone was playing it safer, for fear of getting out too early.

The night was young, and it would do none of them any good if they lucked out of a pot of at least one hundred million.

You watched Changmin, who watched Le Chiffre. You noted the way Le Chiffre would occasionally bring his left hand up to his scarred eye… was that his tell?

It was nearing one hour when it was only Changmin and Le Chiffre who had yet to fold. The dealer called for Changmin to make his move, and you looked over to your counterpart as the gears turned and twisted in his mind.

“I'm all in,” he decided, and shifted his entire pile into the center, mounting up to some amount close to twelve million.

You pressed the backs of your knuckles to your lips in anticipation of Le Chiffre's move. The man did not cower, but rather, called his bet. He moved his pile of fourteen million to the center. All in.

“Gentlemen,” the dealer gestured for their cards to be revealed.

They flipped their cards into view—you could feel the scandal rocket through the crowd.

“A pair of jacks. Monsieur Le Chiffre wins. This marks the halfway point of the match; we will return in one hour to resume, with the big blind set at two hundred thousand.”

Everyone around the table, both players and spectators, began to dissipate to find something to distract them for the hour-long break.

Changmin's posture was taut as a bowstring as Le Chiffre pulled his mouth into a sly smirk across from him. “Ah, Mr. Ji. You must have interpreted my tell wrong. Off your game tonight, don't you think?”

A muscle feathered in the agent's jaw. “I wouldn't be so quick to boast,” he drawled. “The game's not over yet.”

You didn't know what to say, but you knew one thing was for certain—no matter what, you and Changmin could not let Le Chiffre leave tonight with the jackpot. And as Changmin departed the table with a crease between his brows but his head held high, you knew what was on his mind, as well.

“Need a drink?” You asked, as he met you where you stood.

Changmin shook his head. “No, I'm alright,” he said, glancing about. He nudged the back of your shoulder with his fingers, guiding you toward the exit. “Let's get out of this room for a moment though.”

You weren't going to argue with that decision, and the two of you linked arms and made your departure.

When the cool air in the lobby swept over you and all the tension in your body left for a brief moment of paradise. It was so stifling down in that room; you were almost thankful to be wearing this dress.

You and Changmin lingered at the top of the railing that looked down into the lobby from the second flood, heads close together. “What now?” You asked him.

“I need more money.”

“I can give you five million, but that's my limit, Changmin,” you told him firmly.

His brows crossed together. “Five million isn't enough to go toe to toe with a guy who just ended round one with thirty—”

“That's not my fault; this is policy.” You knew the world hung in the balance, but while that was his job, this was yours. You sighed. “Maybe I can contact someone about approving more, but right now, five million is our only option. Do we not have a plan B?”

Changmin's lips pressed into a line. “Plan B is hoping he does something fucking illegal in front of my face, and praying that reinforcements come in fast enough to take him away.”

Now it was your turn for your brows to crease. “Why do we have to wait for him to do something illegal? Don't we know he's a criminal?”

“We're onto him, yes, but there has been no tangible proof that he's a corrupt banker,” Changmin admitted tersely. He absentmindedly rubbed his jaw with his palm. “If we could just—”

“Ji.”

Both you and Changmin straightened. Coming toward you from down the hall was Lee Juyeon, the CIA agent Changmin had pointed out to you earlier.

You didn't fail to notice the way Changmin blocked you from Juyeon's view with his body. “Lee,” Changmin greeted back.

Juyeon nodded to you in hello with a warm smile, and you lifted your hand to wave. He seemed decent enough.

Changmin’s eyes narrowed as he shifted so he stood next to you now, an obvious arm slung around your waist. “I didn't know the CIA was on this.”

“I didn't know the MI6 was on this,” Juyeon fired back. He let out a sigh that sounded about as stressed as you were. “I wanted to propose a deal with you.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, well—” Juyeon cupped the back of his neck with one hand. “I'm not the most adept poker player,” he confessed. If you remembered correctly, he nearly lost half his money throughout round one—then again, Changmin lost all of his. According to Le Chiffre, it was because he had read his tell incorrectly; you must have interpreted the wrong one, too. “And I figured that I'm not going to be making enough right moves in the second round to even stand a chance against Le Chiffre. You've got the balls to go up against him, and I know you're down a few bucks, so I wanted to bow out of the round and stake you instead.”

Both you and Changmin glanced at one another in surprise.

Juyeon was backing out… and wanted to stake Changmin? Stake, meaning to invest or sponsor him; to give Changmin funds.

Changmin's eyes narrowed. “And what would I do for you in return?”

“You would give the CIA Le Chiffre.”

What other choice did you and Changmin have? Five million was not enough to make a winning comeback; at least being sponsored would give Changmin enough cushion to make some more mistakes. The allyship between your governments was enough to make the CIA taking Le Chiffre in the end seem like a victory.

Changmin exhaled and stuck out his hand. “Deal.”

The second round was no less tense than the first. Changmin entered with more determination and fury than before, and Le Chiffre was no short of amusement and arrogance.

After Juyeon made his official departure from the game, he came to stand by you to spectate and offer insights wherever he could. The game chugged on by for another half hour with bets being placed, drinks being sipped, and money being exchanged.

You watched Changmin reach for his glass again, only to pause. There was a moment where you didn't breathe, and you watched his hand retract up toward his shirt collar to loosen it.

“Something wrong, Mr. Ji?” Le Chiffre asked.

You squinted at him, disliking the sinking feeling that had returned to your gut.

“Break,” Changmin suddenly called out, as he stumbled out of his seat and pushed out of the room in a hurry.

Eyes widened, you bolted after him, leaving Juyeon to wonder what had happened to Changmin.

You called out to your partner as he stumbled into the elevator, and you crashed in after him. “Oh my—fuck. What the fuck happened?” You asked as Changmin toppled over into you, sweat dripping down his face and his skin growing more and more flushed.

You jammed the button for your floor in a hurry as you attempted to hold him upright. “God, you're heavy, man—”

“Poison,” he choked out, practically ripping his shirt collar open, as if it was constricting his breathing. He gasped for air and clung onto you like a lifeboat.

Panic seized you by the heart and squeezed hard. “Oh my god. Okay—uhm, okay. What do we do? Changmin, what do we do?”

The elevator arrived on the seventh floor, and you half dragged Changmin toward your room. “The—the antid—antidote—”

“The antidote! We have an antidote?” You didn't have time to question him as you retrieved your room card from within your dress and barged into the hotel suite.

You deposited Changmin onto the floor as quickly and carefully as you could, hands shaking as you helped to take his shirt off so he could breathe.

“Safe,” he gasped to you.

“The safe? Fuck, what's the code?” You asked, clambering to your feet and racing over to the black box in the wall.

You heard him choke out the four digits, and the safe swung open without ceremony. You rifled around the contents and retrieved an aluminum foil packet with a slim syringe inside. “Found it!” You cried and practically slid across the floor to get back to him.

You ripped the packet open as Changmin's breathing continued to shallow, his skin paling, and his body growing weaker. His left palm had landed somewhere on his thigh—inject here.

“Shit,” you swore, grimacing to yourself before stabbing the syringe into his leg.

As soon as the liquid was gone, all you could do was pray.

But the storm clouds were beginning to clear, and color slowly returned to Changmin's face. You sank back onto your heels, relief and adrenaline coursing through you.

“Fucking hell, that was a close—”

White hot pain flashed through you as something—someone—grabbed you by your hair and yanked. Your scream pierced through the silence, and it was nearly enough to wake the dead.

They were dragging you backward toward the door, and you reached up to claw at their hands, your skull feeling as if it was being pulled into a million directions while being set ablaze, all at once.

“Let—go!” You screeched, thrashing around. You couldn't see your captor, but they suddenly released their grip on you.

Relief was short-lived.

Your head whipped to the side as a shoe met your cheek. Stars danced in your vision, and you cried out in pain—and then you begged. You were certain Changmin was still recovering, hardly in a state to save you, and desperation began to claw itself into your heart.

Your body was hoisted up beneath your armpits and you squirmed, fighting for your life.

For a second, you were sure you heard Changmin call out your name.

You threw your elbow back into your attacker's face, then tried the back of your head—the sound of pain and bones cracking echoing in your eardrum.

“You bitch!” They roared, loosening their grip to feel their broken nose.

You were a mess as you landed on the ground. A gleam of silver caught your eye. The gun.

Adrenaline seized you and you made a mad dash for the table where the gun was stowed beneath.

Your opponent caught your ankle and dragged you back down to earth. There was no time to mourn over bruised knees and limbs, and you kicked your heels out behind you in a blind fury, desperate to get away.

“Yn—”

“Please,” you screamed, begged. Whoever that was—you just wanted this to end. Fear coursed through you as your body began moving backwards and was dragged back to the door.

You dug your fingers against the polished ground, unsuccessfully gaining purchase. You clutched at a chair leg and dragged it along with you, and felt the hand around your ankle tighten—

With all your strength, you took the chair and heaved it back toward your captor. He let out a garbled swear, only agitated by your continued resistance. The hand around your ankle disappeared and you took it as an opportunity to get away.

“Not so fast.”

Your body hit the ground, the back of your head making purchase against stone. This time, you saw your assailant—he was one of the guards from earlier, likely working under Le Chiffre's orders. Blood dribbled down his lower face, courtesy of your retaliation.

“I should just kill you here and now,” he growled and enclosed his meaty hands around your neck. “Won't make a difference.”

You struggled against him, but to no avail. Your windpipe was being crushed and your vision blurred.

You thrashed and scratched and kicked—this was the end. Oh god, was this the end?—

A shot rang out.

Air slowly began seeping into your airway and you hacked a cough around the hands that had fallen away from your throat.

The dead body above you was heavy and sticky, and the smell of iron permeated your nose like a nightmare. You didn't even realize your cheeks were damp until you blinked and tears filled your eyes.

You nearly died just then.

With a suppressed sob, you shoved the dead body off you with all of your remaining strength.

There, by the table, was Changmin and the smoking gun in his hand. He still looked only half conscious, but he'd managed to get himself to sit up with pure willpower, enough to reach the gun stashed beneath the table, and to aim and fire a shot.

The room was quiet for a few moments, other than the persistent ringing in your ears.

Then you let yourself cry—it shook through your body and shoulders in violent sobs.

Changmin's chest clenched painfully at the sound, and the gun clattered out of his hand so he could crawl his way over to you. His hair, his face, his clothes were all dampened in sweat and the empty syringe laid abandoned on the floor. He made it over to where you were, the red of your dress mixed with the blood of a dead man, and held your body close to his.

“I'm sorry,” he muttered against your hair, lips pressed against your crown. “You’re okay; we're okay now,” he promised.

With his strength slowly returning to him, Changmin sat himself upright and let your body lean against him. You grappled onto him so tightly, as if he might slip out of your grasp.

It was almost thirty minutes later that you and Changmin returned to the poker game. With some gentle coaxing, he got you into the shower to wash the blood away, but you couldn't get the icky feeling clinging to you. He'd been gentle, though, letting you sit beneath the stream in your dress as he got onto the shower floor with you to run the water and soap through your hair.

In his hold, he rocked you gently through the tremors. “No one's gonna hurt you anymore, sweetheart,” he rasped. Never again, not if he could help it.

You'd never seen him like that—all the tenderness in his gaze out in the open.

And you'd only seen it when you glanced up at him once; the rest of the time, you tucked your chin to your knees, staring at a tile.

Unnerved but still alive, you entered the room with another clean dress, and Changmin with another clean set of clothes. You returned to your place beside Juyeon, and Changmin went back to the table to face Le Chiffre.

Le Chiffre, however, looked as if he'd seen a ghost. His eyes had widened just a millimeter, but it was enough.

Changmin dragged up the sleeves of his dress shirt, a predatorial-like gleam in his eyes. You almost killed me. Even worse, you dared to lay a dirty hand on her. “Sorry about that,” he drawled, gaze lifting to meet Le Chiffre's, “seemed that last hand nearly killed me.”

His opponent swallowed.

The game resumed.

With the final phase in play, the dealer announced that there could be no more buy-ins. Juyeon had fetched you a drink, which you were most grateful for, and Changmin avoided all beverages for the remainder of the game.

“Everything alright?” Juyeon asked you quietly as you chugged your drink.

“Perfectly.” You handed the drink off to a waiter nearby and smiled tightly. “We were just strategizing on how to murder this game.” You hoped he didn't hear the tremor in your voice.

As the final round approached, each of the four finalists that were left alive were asked to make their bets. Each player slowly, but surely, slid all of their remaining chips into the center.

Everyone was all in.

“Reveal your cards, if you please.”

One by one, the cards in each player's hand was turned. The room held its collective breath as Le Chiffre revealed an ace and a six—a fuller house, with three aces and two sixes.

All that was left were Changmin's.

With little more than an arched brow, he slid his cards apart: a five and seven, both of which were spades. When joined together with the rest, they made—

“A straight flush,” announced the dealer. “Monsieur Ji wins the game.”

Cheers and applause rang out throughout the room as the game finally came to a close. Relief soared through you, and you shook hands with Juyeon at Changmin's success. Perhaps twenty million had been spent, but it all meant that you had won back that money in full.

From your standpoint, you couldn't see Le Chiffre's reaction, but he didn't look pleased. He stormed out of the room only moments later.

Changmin was swift to join the two of you, his hand coming to lie on your shoulder. “We should go after him,” he said.

Juyeon nodded, expression sobering. “You're right.”

“I'm going with you,” you told him. Already anticipating his refusal, you shut him down with a look. Though you might have been shaken from the night's near-death experience, it only seemed to steel over your resolve to catch this bastard. “I'm safer with you; don't try to argue with me.”

He knew you were right—you saw the reluctant agreement in his eyes. He grunted, “Okay, but you're staying behind me the entire time and when I say run, you better run.”

You patted his chest and followed after Juyeon. “Of course.”

The three of you raced after Le Chiffre in the direction he disappeared. He'd gone up to the second floor via the grand staircase in the lobby, but neither you nor the other boys knew which direction he went from there. The second floor was damn near close to a labyrinth.

“We split up,” Changmin declared. “Me and Yn go one way and Juyeon takes the other.”

“Wait, Juyeon goes alone?” You butted in. “Le Chiffre is dangerous and desperate; that combination isn't good for anybody.”

“None of us have any weapons either,” Juyeon pointed out.

Changmin gestured to you. From beneath the skirt of your new dress, you withdrew the pistol from earlier out into the light. After what happened in your suite, the both of you thought it best to let security measures be damned and holster a gun to your inner thigh. And now, it was proving to be the right decision.

Juyeon deadpanned, amending, “I don't have a weapon.”

“Then you should go get one,” Changmin said smartly. You rolled your eyes at him.

“I—shit.” Juyeon huffed in frustration. “Goddamn it. You better hold your promise, Ji.”

“My word is gold,” Changmin swore as you passed him the pistol. “We'll find Le Chiffre; you call for backup.”

With that matter settled, you grabbed Changmin's hand and set off in one direction.

His fingers tightened around you as you stuck close behind him. The corridor was hauntingly quiet with not a soul around. You and Changmin trudged onward and kept your eyes and ears open for anybody hiding behind a corner or waiting to enact revenge on your poker victory tonight.

The hair on your arms and the back of your neck stood erect, heart thundering loudly in your ears.

So loud, that you almost missed it.

You caught Changmin's eyes. Did you hear that?

There it was—it sounded like voices coming from a room further down the hall.

“—please, just a few more weeks, and I can get you your money back!”

A muffled response in return.

“NO! I swear, I'll do better! I have another i—”

You never heard the end of Le Chiffre's offer. There was only the sound of a metallic swish, followed by a dull weight hitting the ground. A body.

Your breath hitched as you and Changmin looked around wildly for a swift exit or cover. There was an emergency stairwell just a few doors down.

Changmin grabbed you and booked it.

Your breath caught in your throat as he pressed you against the open doorway, eyes flickering somewhere behind you to watch the door the voices had come from.

“Do you trust me?” He asked, eyes furiously searching your own.

You didn't have to think about it. “Yes.”

Just as a door opened in the hallway, Changmin cupped your jaw with his hand, braced himself against the doorway with the other, and kissed you.

Your eyes fluttered closed upon immediate impact and you felt your heart leap into your throat. His lips moved gently against your own, as if afraid of breaking you, and his hand moved down from your jaw to wrap around your waist to pull you flush against him.

One moment you were melting into his embrace, and the next, he was shoving you behind the other side of the doorway for cover.

A war cry rang out—not Changmin, you realized—as a body blurred past you and was thrown into the stairwell's metal railing. Your soul nearly left your body, head turning in time to throw yourself out of the way of the incoming bodies.

Changmin brawled and grappled on the floor with a second man, a silver machete glistening in the dim light, only a few centimeters from his throat. The first man was slowly beginning to stand up, and your eyes tracked where Changmin's gun had skidded to the floor.

You swiped the gun up just as Changmin wrestled his opponent off him.

With adrenaline powering through you, you smashed the butt of the gun against the back of the man's skull. He crumpled to the cement—unconscious.

“Here,” you breathed, helping Changmin to his feet and shoving the gun into his hand.

He shook his dizziness away, eyes widened on something behind you. “YN, DUCK!”

You swore, and dropped to the ground, narrowly missing the arc of the first man's machete attempting to remove the head from your shoulders.

You dove down the first set of stairs to get out of the way of the fight, your knees and hands scraping against the cement and bruising.

The man with the machete attacked Changmin with reckless abandon, swinging his blade and striking the railing to make sparks fly. Changmin had no opening to use his firearm and—oh shit. They were coming this way.

“Yn, you better be fucking running.”

He didn't need to tell you twice. You tumbled down more stairs, ditching your heels as you went. You would be useless in this fight, so your best action would be to get the fuck out of the way.

Changmin's breath flew out of his chest as he hit the wall hard, then stuck his hands out in time to stop the assassin from impaling his head on the sword. Changmin drove his knee into his stomach, then threw him across the stairs to the opposite landing.

The fight clambered on down the spiral stairwell, metal clashing against metal, and bone and flesh grinding against stone. Changmin gritted his teeth as he fumbled backwards down the stairs, hitting the opposing wall with even more momentum.

He ducked—and missed another swing; and another; and another.

There was a kick to his gut, and his body went flying. His assailant took a leaping start and charged. Changmin grabbed at his hands again, desperately attempting to wrestle the machete away.

The weapon went sailing; that was his opening.

With pure adrenaline, Changmin fisted the man's shirt and flung him over whatever railing was left. You cursed as his body hit the basement floor with a thump.

Changmin tackled him as he attempted to climb to his feet. With the violent thrashing, Changmin ended up beneath him, his arm wrapped tightly around his opponent's neck, and he squeezed.

The man's arm flopped about, desperately reaching for the gun that scattered onto the floor from all the ruckus. If he could just reach it—

You lunged for the gun, tripping as the man clawed at your ankle to throw you off. You shrieked, swinging the barrel at his hand to knock it away.

When you finally managed to scramble backward, you watched the light fade in the assassin's eyes.

As soon as the man slumped in death, Changmin loosened his grip and crawled out from beneath the body.

You clambered over to him and helped him to his feet, his joints and muscles screaming as he attempted to straighten. He groaned, white-knuckling the railing, “Fucking hell.”

“Are you okay? Holy shit, Changmin,” you said, wrapping your arms around him to hold him up. There had been too many close calls there.

You passed a glance over at the corpse lying on the floor about a meter away from you. A shudder rippled down your spine, and you felt Changmin's hand on your forearm, like he knew.

From up above, you heard the sound of the stairwell door opening. The two of you peered straight upwards as a familiar face peered over the landing.

“Le Chiffre's dead,” said Juyeon. In his hand was a pistol; it seemed he finally retrieved his firearm.

“No shit,” you and Changmin replied simultaneously, chests heaving up and down in laborious panting.

Juyeon blinked, squinting his eyes to take in your appearances. “What the fuck happened to you guys?”

“Careful,” you called up to him, “that guy isn't dead.”

Juyeon jolted and he considered the body at his feet with new awareness.

You threw one of Changmin's arms around you to begin the ascent back up. “Can you—fuck. Is that yours?” You swore for the thousandth time tonight as you peered over at the growing dark splotch of red seeping through Changmin's shirt.

He hung his head as strength rapidly bled out of him with his own life force, and you carefully laid Changmin down on the ground.

“Juyeon!” You called out. “Juyeon, help!”

You heard rapid footsteps in the distance, but it faded to background noise as you ripped open Changmin's shirt and came face to face with the vicious knife wound in his abdomen. “Oh my god,” you whispered. God, there was so much blood.

“Cover the wound, Yn,” Juyeon said to you as he leapt down the final steps. “Fuck, this looks bad.”

“He must not have begun to feel it until the adrenaline was over,” you reasoned in a desperate attempt to keep your head on straight. Per Juyeon's instructions, you pressed your palms over the wound, bile rising in your throat from all the blood. “Changmin—Changmin, come on. Stay with me.”

He murmured something you couldn't hear, and you leaned your ear down over his lips. “Come on, talk to me, love. Tell me something, anything.”

His voice came out, barely there. “I'm… I'm glad I got—I got to see you again.”

And he would see you again. That was a promise you made to yourself, and to him, as Juyeon called for his reinforcements and you clung onto Ji Changmin's life with your own.

When Changmin came to, it was bright enough to blind him. There was a fuckass beam of sunlight shining right into his eyes, and he blinked rapidly, wrinkling his face into a grimace. There was a violent throbbing in his abdominal area that ached when he attempted to roll over or sit up.

Was he dead?

“You're not dead.”

His body immediately relaxed into the sheets he was settled in. When his eyes grew accustomed to the god awful amount of light in the room, he was met by the sight of your face, silhouetted against the sun, and beautiful. “Are you sure? 'Cause I'm pretty sure you're an angel.”

Your palm came over to rest against his forehead, and his eyes fluttered shut. “You must still have that fever,” you teased.

When you both shared a laugh, he opened his eyes again.

It seemed he was in a hospital room—well, something akin to that. It looked more like a small bedroom was transformed into one, and he laid on the bed with a heart rate monitor hooked up to him on the side. You perched on the edge of his bed with a cardigan draped over your frame, and something soft in your eyes.

No, he was definitely in heaven. Maybe he didn't die, but he was in heaven.

Your expression sobered as your hand drifted down to caress the side of his face. “You lost a lot of blood,” you whispered. “I was really worried about you.”

Changmin brought his hand up to gently take your wrist and turn your palm inward, his lips meeting your hand in a butterfly kiss. “Hey, sweetheart. I'm alright now, see?” He intertwined your fingers, missing the feeling of how they felt interlocked in the hotel hallway.

The hotel hallway—the fight—Le Chiffre—the kiss. His lips seared at the memory, and he fought the urge to touch his lips at the phantom sensation.

“What happened?” He croaked out instead, gazing up at you. His heart tugged against its confines when he made out the shape of dark purple smudged against your cheekbone. It was the bruise forming from the guard who came after you, and it made Changmin ache to see.

Hurt, you'd been so hurt.

You shifted your body so you could tuck your feet onto the bed, too. “Juyeon came with reinforcements and we got you out of there as soon as possible. One of Le Chiffre's clients killed him—the guys you fought with in the stairwell. Apparently he'd used their money to buy into the game, and because he wasn't able to win, they killed him.”

Changmin stared up at the eggshell-colored ceiling. He supposed that would have been the tangible evidence needed to convict Le Chiffre, but his client was faster at acting as judge, jury, and executioner.

“M's on her way to meet with you,” you continued, your thumb gently tracing dizzying circles onto the back of his hand.

“To be expected,” he chuckled. He glanced back up at you. “How are you? Were you hurt at all?”

You shook your head. “No, nothing to your extent. There were a few scratches and bruises, but nothing time won't heal.”

“And everything else?” Your mental state, especially after all you went through, could not have been in a terrific place. If he could have prevented you from experiencing any of what happened, he would do it in a heartbeat.

The pure fear that speared through his chest when he thought you were about to die…

He had long since figured out that what he felt for you was not simply platonic. It was more—he yearned for more. Seeing you again after so long just made it worse.

You made a noncommittal noise. “I'll… I'll be alright.”

For a moment, the room filled with only silence and the white noise from the heart rate monitor. You suddenly perked up at something, and turned to reach over to grab an item from the side table. Changmin recognized the small laptop device from the poker game now seated on your lap.

“The money pit from the game was stored in escrow in a Swiss bank. A representative from the bank delivered this to us,” you explained, showing him the screen. It left room for a passcode to be filled in. “To the victor go the spoils, love.”

The nickname made him shudder and he forced himself into an upright position.

“Changmin—”

“I got it,” he countered and stubbornly gritted his teeth through the pain until he was seated against the headboard next to you. He clutched his injury, head knocked back against the wood. “Well? Wanna guess the password?”

You lifted your brows in amusement. “Do you know how many six letter combinations exist out there? For all I know, it was a random keyboard smash.”

He chuckled lowly, leaning his chin against your shoulder. “S.”

We're really doing this? You seemed to ask with the expression on your face. You humored him, though, pressing down on the S key.

“W.”

The letters that followed amounted to S-W-T-H-R-T. You were quiet for a second as you stared at the final combination; you didn't want to press the enter key just yet.

Changmin murmured against your shoulder. “I'm not one for corny messages, but that's a 'sweetheart’ if I've ever seen one.”

You were still quiet as you pressed enter and unlocked the winner's pot. There was no special celebration, no balloons or confetti—just a solid number with too many zeroes for your little heart to handle. Perhaps, in the end, there really was no amount of money in the world that could buy your company. Not if you freely gave it, at least.

Changmin felt his chest lurch. “Yn, sweetheart, say something.” He leaned off your shoulder so you could turn your body to face him, the laptop returning to its place on the side table.

“What should I say?” You asked, your fingers playing with his own in your two hands.

“I'm sorry if the kiss was too much.”

You faltered for a second. “It, uhm, it wasn't too much. I actually thought that it was nice.”

“You did?” He hated the way hope made him feel, how it made his heart sprout wings—maybe he was dead.

A small smile crawled onto your lips and you dug your teeth into your bottom lip. “Maybe I did.” You raised a hand to the side of your face, an embarrassed groan falling out of your mouth. “God, I feel like a teenager with a crush again.”

“Giddy?”

“Pathetic,” you teased. You leaned your head against the headboard again as you looked over at him with the most beautiful gleam in your eyes he had ever seen.

He never understood the romanticizing of someone's eyes—what else had he ever discerned but fear or boredom? But he could hear your laugh just by seeing your smile reach your eyes, and he could feel the warmth spreading in his chest and making electricity zip down his spine from the tenderness in your irises.

He swallowed hard. “If you feel pathetic, then I am literally chopped liver,” he said. A surge of courage, the kind that was a trademark of his reputation, propelled his next words: “I'd like to kiss you again.”

Your eyes darted to his lips and he clung onto that detail as if he were hanging by a thread. “Because you saved the world, Agent 007, you can kiss the girl,” you mused.

You leaned over him slightly and cupped the back of his head, mouth meeting his own in a familiar dance. Even with his injury, he pushed back to meet you, and ignored the throbbing in his stomach, so he could haul you closer, over, around him. Anything to get you pressed up against him.

Real—you were real, and you were alive, and so was he.

a/n: pls remember to reblog + comment if u enjoyed! omg that permanent taglist looks SCARY 😭😭😭

tbz m.list

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @luumiinaa @tinkerbell460 @kaaimins @hyunjaespresent-deobi @otterly-fey @zzoguri @floatingpluto @winterchimez @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @polarisjisung @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @loveliestfelix @bless-311 @zhaixiaowen @leaz-kpop-life @amourdsr @pxppxrminty @kqyutie @sseastar-main @kxthleen14 @fluorescentloves @mosviqu @jaerisdiction @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @vernonburger @maessseongs @ericlvr @mars101 @moonyswolf @your-mirae @richasdiary @deobi0412 @sunramzi @honeyrecommends @synthwxve @dearly-somber @empire-x @kflixnet

[sk3tch404]

Lmao np <33 I always enjoy drawing Yandere's as pathetic lil meow meows hehe (funfact: I actually drew Rory first but after I finished his lineart I was like, wait shit I don't have a full color reference- and then I hyperfocused on drawing jay instead lol)

Also, you 🤝 me: jayce + jack o' lanterns = stonks ✅ ✅ ✅

Also also, ngl if Darling were self-aware she'd def hate me, because I always try to speedrun the Bad ending first lmaooo

Also^3, every time I hear baggy pants, I can't help but remember the boys I went to school with a few years ago, who wore the most ugly, most a t r o c i o u s pairs of baggy pants I have ever seen 💀💀

For Reference: https://imgur.com/a/fZsHsF7

This is what I'm talking about^^ like pls,, just sTO P-

About the blue reference, the paragraph I meant was the one about how I only liked EJ so much because of his BLUE mask 😔 young me truly set the bar too low (maybe it's because of him that I'm attracted to most fictional mad scientists/doctors with no morals now, damn this bastard 😒)

Oh, and the OG mikey myers Movie is the 1978 one! ^^

And finally about the Christian Gang /hj (every holiday Yandere of yours has/used to have strong Christian influences but these three are still considered extra Christian to me so I'm just gonna start calling em that lolololol)

Gonna be honest, when you revealed that one of them was gonna be Christmas, I immediately headcanoned him as just some guy in Christmas elf costume- thank god that's not the case though (I say, even though I know damn well that I'm still gonna draw him in that costume the nanosecond you drop a ref for him, because he's a lil skrimblo who needs to get a reality check via me shitposting him into humility)

Also ofc the twins are ginger 😒🙄 /derogatory /j okay but fr, whenever I see a fictional ginger online I'm like ....Ed Sheeran??? 😱😱 (coughcoughchildecough)

-Ren'py anon

OKAY OKAY I'LL DROP A SMIDGE OF RORY SPRITES SO U CAN COLOR IT BBG

He only wears shades outside lol

HEHEHE YES JACK O'LANTERN STONKS GO UP IN THE BRAIN CELL ACTIVITY

Eh, I mean, its always fun to get the bad ending first though. Just to see then get all angry and violent 😍 good shit tbh

MC would def hate you, but I feel like it would take a bit to get the bad bad ending yk? I don't have the obvious, good/neutral/bad choices most of the time (although there are some choices that will obviously lead to negative consequences lol)

JAYCE ONLY WEARS THE ONES IN STYLE RN NOT THOSE LMAOOOO

Though they can look good if done right, those boys at school were definitely not doing it right 💀

Now I understand the blue reference! Ugh how did I MISS IT SO BAD 😭 gosh you were going crazy abt him and the color blueeeeee

I understand how that all kick started ur obsession with fucked up men. We are one in the same 😎

Hehehe thank you for the confirmation! I will be watching Myers stand there menacingly as I look up fics of him 😍

It's so funny that you call them the Christan gang, but it's not gonna have all the significant original values and whatnot. It's just a global holiday thingy that everybody does regardless of religious background (Though I'm glad you still see their origins and acknowledge their important purpose to many other people!)

GOD HELP WHY? I ONLY WATCHED LIKE 10 MINUTES IF THAT ELF MOVIE WHEN I WAS IN 6TH GRADE DURING LUNCH? WHY WERE THEY PLAYING IT DURING LUNCH YOU ASK? BC OF CHRISTMAS OR SMTH IDK, BUT IT WAS OKAY IG

It would be very funny to see him as an elf that works at the mall as a side 😇 He needs it anyway

Regarding the Twin's, THEY HATE IT WHEN PEOPLE MAKE GINGER JOKES, SO BAD. THE MINUTE SOMEONE SAYS ANYTHING ABT ED SHEERAN AROUND THEM, THEY EITHER ZIP OUT OF THERE OR FIGHT. NO IN BETWEEN.

Typical gingers 🙄 so sensitive dude

Childe is one of the only gingers I can tolerate. If these two didnt have a life and played Genshin, they would favor Childe so much.

[vriska-serketboard]

Random stuff I saw in my 1st semester that I just kind of wanted to list:

-noodles stuck in the BATHROOM SINK

-someone put a full dining hall cup of tea in the bathroom trash upright. Like girl there is a sink less than a foot away just pour it out

-another person put almost an entire bag of like chocolate and caramel covered popcorn snacks in the trash while I was in the bathroom. The bag was sealed and I mayyyy have taken it out of the trash after she left, washed the bag in the sink, and ate the entire thing while watching lotms the next day

-the whole whiteboard culture. A bunch of ppl have whiteboards on their doors and they put polls in them. There’s this guy named Spencer and one of his friends likes to write Spencer’s name as an extra option on polls or like just write his name on whiteboards

-this one was uhhh not good but I was walking down the hall to the bathroom and we had this big board with a bunch of flyers for different campus resources on it. Well it was fine for most of the semester, but that time, someone had clearly very deliberately removed the LGBTQIA+ talk space flyer and torn it into 3 pieces and put it on the floor. I texted our RA and she filed an incident report and is working on getting new flyers printed but yeah that was bad. Idk who did it which tbh makes it worse

-one time I was going to the bathroom at 1 am and there was barf on the (carpeted) hallway floor. It was cleaned up by the morning, but ewww. It was a small amount tho so it could have been worse

-another time when I was coming out of the bathroom (a lot of stories involve trips to the bathroom for some reason lmfao) and the dorm directly across from it had like a pile of 15-20 apples directly on the floor and against the doorframe. It was gone by the morning which made it even more surreal

-one time the fire alarm went off at 2 am because apparently (so I overheard anyway) SOMEONE used one of the communal microwaves to nuke DRY RAMEN. We had to evacuate the building for like 20 minutes. Also this was the 2nd time the fire alarm in our building had gone off bc of a microwave related incident

-one of our friends slept in our dorm for the night bc he had a fight with one of his roommates bc said roommate was trying to spread rumors about him jacking off in the quad

-same friend showed up at our door on a weekend morning bc he’d run out of quarters for his laundry and apparently no one he knew in his dorm had any spare ones. So he thought it was a great idea to walk all the way to our dorm (which would have made more sense except for the fact that we live in different residential areas). Like we gave him the quarters but he kind of woke us up plus my roomie had their bf over that weekend. It was funny though

-accidentally found a way to get up onto the roof of a building with 2 of my friends. We were not intending to go to the roof but we did and it was cool

-got out of bed at almost 1 am to show my friend how far my key went into the lock bc she was trying to open her door but it was sticking and she wanted to know if she was doing it right

-sat in the pool table supplied closet in the basement to do my hw bc my roommate was being a loud gamer and there were people in the basement too. It wasn’t working that well so I got out after like 45 minutes and scared the absolute shit out of these 2 girls who were sitting in the couch opposite me

-when it was Halloween I wore my plague doctor costume all day and I was going back to my dorm and this group of queer and more alternative looking kids saw me and were like “omg it’s the plague doctor!!” (I’d worn my costume 3 days b4 that and they might have seen me in it then). We talked for a bit, mostly about stuff related to plague doctors and plague and doctors, and then I went on my way. And honestly it was one of the most validating experiences I’ve had in my life. Idk what it was validating exactly but it felt very good

-the day after my bf and I broke up, there was an argument about the definition of art on this discord groupchat my roommate & I have w/ some friends and she and I got very heated (both at the same person, not at each other dw) and it was really upsetting for me bc 1) 1 day post breakup 2) I feel the need to argue when I think something’s wrong but at the same time I hate arguments and conflict even when I’m actively involved in them. So I got back to my dorm and then my roommate got back, and we sat on the floor and talked about the arguement, art, music, trauma relating to music teaching methods being passed down to her from her mom, stuff like that. We watched some videos of her favorite violinist Hilary Hahn, we showed each other some old pics on our phones, then she told me about her EXTREMELY shitty ex who also happens to be her BOYFRIENDS COUSIN. It was a really nice impromptu bonding moment and I felt like both of us needed that kind of conversation at that point in the semester.

-someone at the last show I went to this semester brought a fucking TRAMPOLINE into the mosh pit & ppl were jumping off it onto other ppl in order to crowdsurf. It was fucking wild 10/10 needs to happen again

-we got so lucky with our RA she is literally the nicest cutest coolest person ever I love her so so much

there are other things but I’m getting eepy so I’ll think of them later

[schoolbusgraveyard]

sobbing at [the big spoiler] so pls give me your tyler/sbg in general headcanons

heres some of mine: tyler was an ipad kid, logan has the biggest crush imaginable on tyler and likes flower sculptures, ben and aiden know basic sign language, taylor is an astrology geek and loves freaking out logan, and ashlyn has the worst joint and back issues ever which might as well be canon because she does ballet and as a former ballet dancer, THAT MESSES YOU UP

[pats your back and offers you tissues while you sob]

YESSS THOUGH (okay Tyler being an iPad kid is kind of funny in concept, but also if i think about it too much it makes me sad bc I feel like he had to learn a lot of skills at a really young age and ended up on youtube/wikihow a lot). I’m esp big on the Ben & Aiden knowing basic ASL--like yeah, Ben can just write or use his phone, but knowing even basic fingerspelling is so helpful when you’re nonverbal/can’t talk. That's always one of my favorites dfgdfg and same for the HC Ashlyn having a lot of joint pain--I've never done any form of dance but I've seen/heard the horrors, her having the worst back/joint pain sounds about right

I'll start with some Tyler ones and then kind of ease off into general SBG headcanons :D Under a readmore for length bc whoops this got a little longer than expected

(There are some vague spoilers ahead? But honestly, I’m p sure what I mentioned that would be a spoiler has been implied by a few episodes before the finale so)

Tyler can cook; so can Taylor, but he's a little bit more picky about how food prep goes and can get overwhelmed if anyone is in the kitchen with him and he doesn’t know what they’re doing/if they’re in his way/if they’re trying to talk to him a lot.

He will let Taylor help sometimes, though, especially if they’re both extra worried about their mom for some reason or something else is up.

He’s extremely meticulous about washing his hands/tools/cutting boards between ingredients. Even if everything he’s chopping goes into the same pot or pan, he’s going to wash that knife every time he switches to a new ingredient.

A lot of people don’t really think of it with how ~picky~ and meticulous he is with how he cooks, but he actually does enjoy it a lot. It’s grounding for him, helps him calm down (so long as nobody else is in the kitchen), and gives him a chance to think things through.

He's actually a lot better at cooking than Taylor. Nobody really expects it out of him.

He, Taylor, and their parents used to actually cook as a family. After their dad died, though, he took on the majority of cooking.

He and Taylor are vegetarians. This is oddly specific and holds no weight other than “they wore matching shirts with the name a now-closed vegan restaurant that existed in New York printed on them Once” but it kind of stuck w me after I pointed it out to my husband. I’m p sure he had a School Burger (definitely not vegetarian friendly) on his tray in one of the early episodes, but like [I Do Not See It.png]. Not sure if I have the headcanon that Mariana is also a vegan or a vegetarian, I kinda go back and forth with it a lot.

While his dad only taught him a few songs on the guitar, he would actually be really good at it, if he gave himself the time to sit down and work with it. I think he probably loved it a lot as a kid, but after losing his dad, it just kind of... Hurt to try to pick it up consistently again. If he's ever home alone or near one and alone, though, he'll absolutely pick it up and just slowly/carefully strum out a few notes or songs.

I'm p sure that it's implied to be canon based on One conversation he and Taylor had, but I'm completely saying that he prioritizes sports (especially baseball) because he's hoping he can secure a scholarship through it+essentially get a free ride to college and make shit easier on his mom. And also, y'know, make her proud.

He gets overwhelmed really easily in-general, and that contributes to a lot of his angry outbursts. Pressure stim (weighted blankets, weighted items in-general) are a godsend for him. He hides it pretty well, but after a certain point, he’ll start to get snappy--and it really just seems like it happens for no reason (but, y’know, he’s actually overwhelmed/under a lot of stress).

He also really just. Loves to hold hands with people that he's close to. He says it's so that they feel safer/more comfortable, but honestly, it's a mutual feeling. He feels safer with the people he loves/the people he cares about within arms reach.

He tends to sit really close to. Anyone that he considers a friend or family. Like, shoulder-to-shoulder with them. If they move away, he notices--and will try to remember that for the next time he sits next to them.

Taylor will also do this; it's something she kind of subconsciously picked up from her brother. She notices just as much as he does if someone moves away, but instead of just silently keeping a little bit of a distance, she'll actually ask if she can sit closer to them.

Ben loves this a lot, actually. Taylor is so physically warm (and also just generally sweet/understanding), and he loves having conversations with her, so he loves having her nearby. It’s convenient when she can see his phone easily/see what he’s typing.

Ben prefers traditional art, but he isn’t opposed to digital; he’s not used to using a drawing tablet yet, but he really likes the various tools and other features that come with it. Since his art is for him/a lot of it is art therapy, he doesn’t really post it or share it with anyone unless one of his friends asks.

Logan actually loves having his nails painted. At first, he was kind of worried (because of bullying, his grandparents, just generally afraid he couldn’t pull it off, worried about ruining his nails while working in the greenhouse, etc.), but after he heard Aiden and Taylor talk about it, he was like... Huh. Maybe I could try it. He doesn’t really like experimenting with colors or designs--he likes a lot of neutral tones (specifically dark browns), but Taylor did convince him to try a really warm orange shade once and he loved it.

When he gets extremely embarrassed, Logan will hide his face in his hands. Unfortunately, in these moments, he usually forgets he has glasses on, so those get dirty or he accidentally jabs the nose piece against his eye.

Aiden doesn’t paint his own nails often, but when he does, he goes for the brightest, most eye-straining colors. Like, the brightest neons ever.

Aiden sneaks out often, much to Ben’s panic. He tries to sneak out without Ben noticing/after Ben falls asleep, but. This happens more as the weather gets cooler/colder. It stopped happening as much after the Savannah trip, but he still slips out every now and then (and has, at least once, narrowly made it back in through his window before midnight)

Ashlyn keeps their group chat labeled “them.” Not out of any negative feelings towards anyone in it, she just can’t be bothered to change it or think of any new name for it. It’s kind of growing on her though, it’s almost endearing now.

I’ll throw One in about the parents but this has gotten a lot longer than I initially expected dfgdfg Emma is so nervous around Logan’s grandparents. She already kind of struggles socially--she isn’t the same level as Ashlyn, she’s more indifferent and “eh, if I talk to someone, I talk to someone”--but man Logan’s grandma unnerves the absolute hell out of her. She just seems so intense to her.

[neko-rogers]

hey!! I’m not sure if your inbox is still open but I thought I’d send this just in case! what would you think abt a dark!peter who’s obsessed w s/o and offers to have her stay with him during like the stay-at-home pet of covid so she��s not alone then when it’s lifted he’s like lol you’re not leaving. sorry that’s kinda long and super specific. i absolutely love your writing though!!💗

Jamie All Over

words: 2,040 (no, i should be sorry bc this was chaotic)

tags: didn’t expect it to be this LONG, manipulative!peter parker, grooming, overprotectiveness, slight mentions of sex, don’t expect too much lmao its a headcanon

a/n: hi babe! i wasn’t entirely sure if you wanted this as a one shot (but if u do let me know!)

so you’re pretty unaware of every move peter is trying to do with you, you know? you were not really sure if it was a kind gesture, as the gentleman he seemed to be, or was it just a special treatment

ever since second year and until now as both of you were on your fourth year, he was consistent with his efforts

these moves were moments like when he would carry your books to your next class or confidently invite you to a study ‘date’ at the library after – often times he tells that his friends were invited, but would never show up later on

sometimes he would bring you lunch. you tried to turn it down kindly, but he insists that it was purposely packed as an extra for when he stays late around the university.

it was a lie though. anyone could tell by the way it was prepared looking very appetizing and tasted just as amazing at it was presented. 

and as peter had mentioned that he lived alone, you also assumed he was the one to make his meals. you were so sure he doesn’t pack for an extra and intentionally wants to impress you with his skills.

“hey, y/n!,” he calls, “look this eggroll has a cute design!”

he honestly was an epitome of a walking sunshine. his smile seemed so pure and you never felt any ill-intent for every gesture he had done for you

his friends seemed very welcoming the moment he introduced you to his group

you got along with ned who seemed to be just as joyful and funny as peter. meanwhile mj was a bit more of a tough cookie, nevertheless you both eventually got a long better than you expected

however, it came to one point wherein your own group of friends started being disheartened with your lack of communication

“you’ve been spending more time with that parker boy, huh?” “yeah, kinda?” “are you two like... dating?” “oh no! no... no... nooo!”

the moment they frowned at you was then that you realized and felt a little more guilty. you always remembered that friends were supposed to be friends despite the lack of time and effort, right?

somehow you tried to compensate for the lack of time with your friends. but every minute you spend felt more awkward than before

they weren’t sharing the same vibe with you and you were starting to question if it had been always like it – were you only adjusting to them?

you reached out for peter, considering that he became one of the closest and trusted people around the university. plus, he seemed to have genuinely great friends

“do you feel happy when you’re spending time with them?”

“well i used to but recently–”

“then you should stop being friends with them.”

you were upset for a second. the way he instantly told you that cutting ties with them would be the (only) option

he sounded serious on the other end of the line and you were just speechless for a moment. the dead air between lines was evident, but you didn’t know what to say

“sorry,” peter makes up, “i didn’t mean to sound too serious. i just don’t like people who are rude, especially to you.”

“oh, it’s fine. i totally get it.” you felt a batch of butterflies around your stomach. someone actually cared for you!!!

the moment you didn’t hesitate on losing your friendship with your past friends and moved on with joining peter’s group, things felt lighter.

somehow you felt more expressive than you realized. they were open to your ideas and thoughts, just as you were with them. you felt super comfortable and realized that you weren’t holding back on anything anymore

that’s why you had expected your winter break to be better than your past ones

everyone agreed to skate around the ice rink in rockefeller for christmas. along with it, also spending new year’s eve at the time square

news flash: you finally had the cliche new year’s eve kiss, with none other than peter parker!!! hooray!!!

for anyone who had common sense, your feelings for peter had accentuated. you weren’t denying it either, and the boy wasn’t oblivious to it too

he was just so irresistible and kind to you, like, all the time – to surreal, honestly

you felt and KNEW you were spoiled with peter (and his friends, who liked to spend time with you outside too, just not as much as him)

just as you were planning your spring break activities, it had to be postponed for another time

a lockdown had to be implemented around the country as it was under the state of a pandemic

mj and ned told the group that they’ll be with their families since lectures had to be concluded for the mean time

you planned to do the same, but you expected that this situation wouldn’t last long. so you chose to stay in your dorm rather than return to your hometown

completely sucks since you not only don’t get to hang out with your friends, but you weren’t able to see anyone in person...

until you got a text from peter

he was literally inviting you over his apartment since he explained that he wasn’t returning home either

you practically rushed to pack a small amount of clothes for a sleepover whilst not forgetting to wear a mask (bc it’s fucking important ok)

you arrived at his address and a big warm hug ensues 

his unit was so tidy and you were convinced he did it to impress you

peter was so happy to see you, acknowledging that you’re also spending a few nights with him

the nights mostly consisted of eating snacks and binge watching movies

however during one of those nights, both of you got a bonus – making out on his couch and further, completely forgetting the television

making out with peter wasn’t awkward at all. most of the time he was the one in control, which you didn’t mind

his hands treated you so gently but the way he teased you made you crave for more than what he was offering

a lot of whining, swearing, and begging – you weren’t aware but he was enjoying it a lot

on his side, he did praise you from time to time, but most of it consisted of raw tension and actions. the room was full of grunts and short breaths 

just want to include how sexy peter would be while he moans all over you. like his whole sunshine personality just drained away the moment he places his hands on either sides of your waist

the next day you felt like a princess even though you know it shouldn’t be???

apparently peter prepared breakfast for you and you felt embarrassed walking around his place only in the shirt you wore yesterday and underwear

just when you thought the extra lunch he packs for you was already amazing, the breakfast he prepared whilst being fresh and hot was just incredible

“you really like it?”

“of course! you really have to teach me to cook sometimes”

peter laughs and jokes, “yeah, don’t worry. i feel like we’ve got a lot of time ahead.”

ok fast forward to a few more days when you were beginning to feel like a freeloader. he lets you borrow a few of his clothes as yours were in the laundry

by the time you wanted to stop by your place, peter started to be more... clingy

at first he didn’t want you to go but after a few more debates, he felt defeated and instead insisted on going with you

eventually you caved and let him. it wasn’t that bad either, he talked to you about a lot of things on the way leaving you entertained the whole walk without realizing how far it had been

he helped you ‘pack’ more stuff so you wouldn’t be going back and forth from his place and yours. you felt like you were going out of town for a month with the amount of clothes and products

both of you returned to his place around late afternoon. you felt pretty tired and didn’t hesitate to pass out on the living room couch

when you woke up you sensed that you were in peter’s bedroom, meaning he carried and tucked you during the night

plus! an arm was wrapped around your midriff and you could feel peter’s breathing against your side

you closed your eyes and appreciated the moment. it was cute and made butterflies flutter around your stomach, and you tried not to move much to not wake him up

anyways apparently the pandemic lasted longer, and more serious, than expected (fuck the government and their incompetency) 

you spent more time with peter and was thankful that you didn’t spend this quarantine alone

within a blink of an eye, a month and a half already had passed. you couldn’t deny that most, or all, days have been unproductive

eat, cook, watch tv, cuddle, fuck, repeatedly get spoiled??? yeah sounds like the dream

weird though because you haven’t completely brought up to peter if you’re actually in a relationship with him. oh no were you just friends with (a lot) of benefits??

but you also felt like it wasn’t the time to bring it up. neither of you were saying anything so it was best to let it be for the fear that things might go downhill from there

anyways this continued for more weeks, especially since the ‘stay-at-home’ policy was deemed necessary

you started to help him do errands around the apartment just to feel like you weren’t an actual freeloader – but it wasn’t a surprise when he kept insisting that you should relax

more cute moments

more sexy times

and more cuddles during night (peter’s grip became tighter every night, but you shrugged it off assuming that it was just you getting homesick and overthinking)

ok but when you brought up being homesick and mentioned that you planned peter wasn’t entirely happy about it

the way he acted wasn’t just clingy. he insisted that he’d be the one to go and that you were staying

“ok but i’m not a dog, peter?” “i know, honey, but it’s too dangerous outside. i wouldn’t want you to be at risk.” “i wear a mask?? i follow health protocols?? i’ll be fine??” “you don’t understand–”

oh god he was becoming controlling

you tried not to argue anymore, rather ignoring and pushing past him to proceed to the door

and peter instinctively wrapped an arm around your waist and prevented you from walking further

there was a lot of struggling, but you didn’t know he was this strong. literally what the hell.

you tried to scream too but he pretty much threatened you to your core

“let’s talk this out,” he grunts as he secures his grip around you

“the hell? let me go!”

things got more complicated. he did convince you to talk with him (by means of tying your arms and legs to incapacitate you from running and righting)

it was a nightmare. he was really soft and sweet with you, even getting teary eyed after stating, “i only want what’s best for you... for us”

however you could sense the manipulativeness through it despite being making everything else look convincing

“trust me, sweetie, i wouldn’t want to hurt you. it would crush me” “please don’t cry. i’m only protecting you” “people are disgusting, they don’t deserve an angel like you” “don’t worry, i can protect you”

it terrified you to your nerves, sending shivers across your spine

at first you didn’t realize it, but eventually after days of being trapped, you figured he had been grooming you the whole time

he tried to make you dependent of him and somehow he did a fine job. just not enough to completely exploit you

though, it made you question what would have been better in your situation: being conscious of his sly nature with the hope of escaping or being unaware and completely wrapped around his finger whereas letting him continue how greatly he had been caring for you?

[ahkaahshi]

sleeping over at their s/o’s house for the first time [scenarios]

pairings: sakusa kiyoomi; hirugami sachirou; kuroo tetsurou x fem reader

genre: fluff and humor, as per usual

warning(s): n/a

notes: kinda popped off on hirugami’s part. couldn't help myself. not sorry bout it either. can’t wait til we get to see more of his cute lil face in the anime.

he is so painfully awkward I love him

will just stand in the entryway with his duffle slung over his shoulder, staring straight at you until you tell him when he can put his stuff

this literally isn’t his first time over at your house but he acts like it???

poor baby’s obviously nervous about ~ spending the night ~

immediately washes his hands

brings his own pillow

asks if you’ve sanitized all your surfaces recently/if anyone in your household has been sick lately

does he wanna play video games? not until he’s wiped down all the controllers.

does he wanna watch real housewives? no, but you put it on anyway because you know he secretly loves the drama

does he want a snack? possibly? but refuses to eat on your bed because lying on crumbs is nasty

all he does is get under the covers and hang out

only moves to brush his teeth and, of course, wash his hands

will do a face mask with you but only after thoroughly reading the contents of the bottle/package

wears his hoodie and sweats to bed

is asleep before 10pm

2/10. total party pooper who only gets points because he’s hot and dislikes the same housewives as you do

Moments after releasing a rather loud guffaw at a funny scene from the television show you have playing on your laptop, you hear a small groan echo from beside you. Turning your head to the source of the noise brings your attention to your boyfriend, whose tall form rested on the bed beside you, ensconced in your blankets. His eyelids flutter open and his eyes the color of charcoal fasten on you before narrowing in a small glare of annoyance from underneath the sea of black waves atop his head.

Maybe you would’ve felt even the slightest bit intimidated if his face wasn’t close to being absorbed by the yellow fabric of his hoodie--and if he hadn’t flattened his hair against his forehead by closing the drawstrings to secure his hood around his head.

“Kiyo!” you whine, crossing your arms in front of you chest, “Were you really asleep just now?”

His dark eyebrows furrow as he answers matter-of-factly, “Yes. You know I go to bed at ten o’clock, (f/n). It’s ten thirty.”

You roll your (e/c) eyes at him and protest, “But this is a sleepover! Would it kill you to stay awake a little longer so you can spend some precious time with your beloved girlfriend?”

“Lack of sleep can lead to sickness. Sickness can lead to death. So, yes, staying awake longer to spend precious time with my beloved girlfriend could kill me.”

“I hate you.”

He lets out a long sigh and reaches over towards your laptop to close it, putting an end to your Real Housewives marathon. Once he’s moved it off of your bed, one of his arms snakes around your waist and pulls your body down towards the mattress. His midnight gaze doesn’t falter as he says, “If you get sick, I won’t be able to spend time with you like this, so sleep with me.”

Your heart skips a beat at his tenderly spoken words, and you crawl underneath the covers so you can place your head on his muscular chest and curl up beside him. The feeling of his warmth surrounding you is enough to make you melt into his arms and forgive him for completely ditching you in favor of sleep.

“(F/n).”

“Yes, baby?”

“If you kick me off the bed, this will be our last sleepover.”

sweet boy who is very excited to spend the night at his girlfriend’s house!!

brings snacks and movies

he enjoys doing any activity with you, whether it’s watching movies, playing video/board games, or just cuddling on the couch and talking

not hard to please at all!!!

watches rom coms with you. secretly a hopeless romantic

you’ll probably spend at least ten minutes of your night trying to catch pieces of popcorn in your mouths

and another ten doing the same thing with m&ms

poor boy is too tall to fit under your blankets, so you have to give him an extra one for his legs and feet

bedtime attire consists of boxers with corgis on them, a sweater, and crew socks to keep his tootsies warm 🥺

brings you a pair of matching, corgi-patterned sleeping shorts bc he wants to twin with you

your parents are gone, meaning you can do chaotic activities...

... like baking at 2am!!

he loves to bake (and you can’t convince me otherwise). pls bake with him

wants to stay up all night with you but ends up passing out around 3am after y'all eat all the cookies you made together

11/10, best sleepover ever

Few things were more romantic than spending an evening with your boyfriend on your hands and knees, against the cold, tile floor of the kitchen, cleaning up the aftermath of the mess you’d created.

Lifting your gaze from the white goop coating the flooring, you glance over at Hirugami, who looks completely unfazed and unbothered despite his face still being decorated with dollops of whipped cream. Beholding this sight once more sends you into another fit of laughter that makes it hard for you to keep yourself steady.

“What?” he asks, a small smile creeping onto his lips at seeing you so amused.

In between breaths, you manage to ask, “Why’ve you still got whipped cream on your face?”

With a roll of his chestnut brown eyes, he uses his fingers to swipe some of it off so he can help himself to another serving. “Obviously,” he scoffs sassily, “I’m saving it for later.” His smart comment makes you snort rather unattractively, which, in turn, causes chuckles to pour out from his mouth. “I’m assuming that’s what you’re doing too, right?”

Your (e/c) eyes widen, since you thought you’d done a good job of clearing up the results of your whipped cream battle from your face. A glance at your reflection in the glass of the oven where the cookies were slowly baking soon proved you wrong. Instead of being irritated by this discovery, however, you let out another, wheezing laugh and fell onto your side.

To any outsider, the situation would’ve looked rather strange--an incredibly tall volleyball player dressed only in corgi-patterned boxers, a sweater, and socks, face covered in whipped cream as he fell about laughing with his girlfriend who wore a similar ensemble and was sporting the same whipped cream situation. However, in your defense, it was two o’clock am, and you were high on sugar.

"Come over here and I’ll get the rest off your face, then,” Hirugami suggests, extending his long arms towards you that beckon you closer to him. After you scoot closer to him, he pulls you into his embrace and starts peppering your skin reddened from laughing so heartily with kisses. With each press of his lips against your face, your heart flutters in your chest.

He only pulls away from you when the oven beeps, alerting you that the cookies you’ve been awaiting are finally ready. But he does so with hesitation, seeing as he’d been caught up in savoring the sweet taste of your lips instead.

“You ready to eat some cookies?” he asks with a grin.

Your reply makes him snicker: “Always.”

is fully prepared to stay up the entire night (spoiler alert: doesn't)

made an entire party playlist for y'all to listen to throughout the evening

expect lots of dancing, vibing, singing, and buzzfeed unsolved episodes

brings dance dance revolution over to your house and then proceeds to challenge you to a dance off

was not prepared for what you brought to the table

tries twerking to distract you but still fails

will go on a midnight mcdonalds run with you

is the kinda person to share deep, late night thoughts with

only with him can your conversations go from discussing the questions of human existence to debating which form of potatoes is the most elite

will 100% do face masks with you to keep his complexion lookin godly

INSISTS on watching scary movies

expectation: “don’t worry, babe; I got you!!”

reality: is visibly shaking underneath the covers, questioning all the shadows in your house

wears only a pair of shorts to bed even tho it’s cold af (he runs hot, if ya know what I mean heheh)

8/10. would’ve scored the last 2 points if he hadn’t stolen the blankets and made you wonder if your house was haunted

"(F/n).”

The familiar and gentle voice of your boyfriend rouses you from your semi-conscious state, and you hear the sheets of your bed rustle.

“I’m so tired, Tetsu... what is it?” you wonder groggily, not even bothering to open your eyes to see what’s upset him.

“I think your house is haunted,” is his response. Though he speaks calmly and coherently, his hazel eyes are wide with fear and darting around the dark bedroom.

“Oh, stop. I knew it was a bad idea to watch those supernatural Buzzfeed Unsolved episodes before bed.”

The bed sinks behind you, and you feel the warmth of the blanket he’d stolen from you earlier around your body as he pulls you towards him so your back is flush against his chest. While you appreciate his closeness to you, you can tell he’s far from relaxed. The grip his fingers have around one of your shoulders is tight, as if he’s using it as a stress ball.

You murmur his name with indignation and pry his cold hand off your shoulder, but press a gentle kiss against the back of it. “Baby, go to sleep.”

He noticeably stiffens when a quiet whoosh sounds from another part of your house. “What the heck was that?” he asks from where his face is buried in the back of your neck, too afraid to look around and risk finding something he might not want to see.

“The dishwasher.”

“Y-Yeah,” he stammers, “the dishwasher... of course...” 

With a gentle groan, you lift your head so you can turn and press a gentle kiss against his forehead in an attempt to soothe him. As soon as you plop back down onto your pillow, Kuroo takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, desperate to get a wink of sleep.

The sound of a creak brings both of you to attention moments later, however, and your heart begins to race.

“That was the house settling... right?” you whisper.

He pulls the blanket over both of your heads, fully cloaking your bodies beneath it and says, “Yeah. Yeah. Let’s go with that.”

At this point, you realize it’s going to be a long night for reasons other than those you’d expected.

[jellifysh]

Yaaaaas sharing one braincell for fluff.

Can i be 🐤 anon? 👉👈

Also I have another random idea. OC missing Jimin extra when he’s off for a weekend away for a shoot so she sneaks in his room to borrow a sweater (the same way Jimin raids her closet) that he had left so it smells like him. She wears it & when she helps Jin to make breakfast the next day, she forgets what she’s wearing & Taehyung just sneakily takes a picture? Or maybe even before she goes down, Taehyung goes to cuddle her but sees her in Jimin’s sweater and sends Jimin the photo…and just…. We drown in fluff.

Or maybe oc randomly decides to dress up & take photos bc she’s been trying her best to just gain confidence again so she takes selfies with Jungkook / Jin? (jimin’s still out for the weekend) and decides to finally post on her instagram. Cue the other jealous boys because FAVORTISM? 😭

this is all so good, and omg I have my first emoji anon 🥺 yes you can be 🐤

I'm going to make the mc gradually more comfortable with giving them affection and I think it would be so on brand for you steal their sweaters and stuff. Jimin would love if you wore his stuff, he would love it even more if you stole it while he was gone thats adorable and he would encourage it even. And you taking pictures with jungkook and jin would be so funny especially imagining the other boys reactions and you posting your first picture would blow everyone's mind, especially if you're wearing a cute outfit and casually have a huge movie star and director in your pictures lol

But what if Yoongi took a lil photo of you snuggled under blankets on the couch in his home studio and posted it? And Yoongi's not the type to post personal stuff, so it just 🤯

[kirby-the-gorb]

reply roundup!

highlights:

new favorites post is publicly available on [patreon]!

[preview] for next month’s phone wallpaper is up!

a bit of a short one today.

on [prophecy]:

@ceylonsilvergirl​ said: Why is it never being right about awesome things?

to be fair I am also often right about good things, just not so much the past couple months lol

@jupiterlandings​ said: Apollo leave my boy ALONE or I swear I will bring Marx back so he can make the mooon kick the suns trash again

lol I suppose that is in fact a solution kirby has available

on [butterflies]:

@hobgirl​ said: oh to lie in the grass and look at butterflies. unfortunately butterflies keep trying to land in my hair like some fairytale princess shit, but i was warned as a child that touching butterflies can kill them specifically bc the scales on their wings are very delecate and u can take them off just by touching the wings, and thatll make it impossible for them to fly. so now i get spooked when butterflies get close to me cause what if i accidentally kill it????

omg that sounds so stressful. I’m pretty sure they’re not quite that delicate, if it helps. so gently waving them away or setting them somewhere else should be fine. (I did a quick search and it looks like researchers actually scrape the scales off on purpose in the tagging process, so I guess they can still live and fly without some of their scales!)

@northeasternwind​ said: ah yes. all yellow. no red or orange to be seen. can relax. c:

I thought about it but I decided they should all be regular butterflies XD

on [woo]:

@hobgirl said: woo! re the tags im very happy for you tumblr user kirby the gorb!! its very unfair that we need money to live and its nice to hear you wont need to worry about it as much. not re the tags anymore EYE am going to use this woo! as a preemptive celebration for finally cleaning my apartment, cause its a whole mess and now that my girlfriend is gone for the month ive lost all motivation to keep it clean. but i will!! today i will!!!!

thank you! and I hope your apartment made it to a more comfortable state! (I actually get more cleaning done when my wife isn’t home, cuz I know the noise and disruption can’t bother her if she’s not here XD )

on [sweater]:

@ceylonsilvergirl said: one time my family went into The City (I was a young teen at the time) it was summer but all of us forgot that SF evenings, even in the middle of summer, are cold as hell. so my parents quickly bought us souvenir sweaters to keep us from dying, and mine was an oversized yellow sweater with SF emblazoned across the front in yellow thread. I wore that damn thing every single day, just on top of whatever it was that I was wearing. I hadn’t thought about that in years. funny how memories live in your brain whether you realize it or not

oh wild I wonder how common it is to get so attached to a desperation sweatshirt cuz I had one too! I was at some Nerd Competition (destination imagination, to be specific. do they still do that one?) on the other side of the state towards the end of middle school and it was absolutely dumping rain, but my whole team was just left to run loose until it was time for our presentation so of course we were outside climbing retaining walls the whole time. and I’m this tiny waif child and I’m soaked to the bone and it was just a day trip so I didn’t bring any extra clothes, but it was late into the day so when my mom went to buy me a Branded Sweatshirt to change into they only had plus size ones left, it was like a 2x or something. and then I wore it nearly every day for years, to the point where it got so ratty and full of holes they bought me a replacement in the same color and size (with an osu logo instead).

on [braces]:

@ceylonsilvergirl [added] a speech bubble that says “My mom says if I clean my room I can get a bearded dragon for my next birthday. Did you hear the ice cream man? Let’s go ride bikes to the park. I only need to save up five more dollars then I can get the new Mario game. Who do you think is faster, the flash or sonic?. Do you like Pokémon?” and said: Kirby is like a little kid. but Kirby is braces is like an older kid

oh absolutely, braces-kirby totally has the vibe of one of those like pre-teen/early teen kids that is just So Full Of Thoughts and they badly need to share All Of Them

on [peek]:

@ceylonsilvergirl [added] a speech bubble with a drawing of an ice cream cone

he saved up his allowance for this! he wants two scoops!

@theraphos said: me at the sandwich counter

“and extra meat and cheddar and provolone and no peppers and extra lettuce and--”

[golbrocklovely]

G, N, S, T; sorry just very curious

haha no problem ! i don't mind you asking multiple questions.

G. Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

i usually write in order from the first chapter to the last. for each chapter, before i do any actual writing, i write out everything that's gonna happen in the chapter, like a synopsis. and then once i have every chapter sorted out, then i physically write them out one by one.

if it's a one off fic, i might write out some dialogue randomly if i think of it and want it to occur but don't know where yet. i've learned to do this just bc i have the memory of a spoon lol

i see every fic i write as movie or show, so it's easy to go "scene" by "scene" rather than sporadically.

N. Is there a fic you wish someone else would write (or finish) for you?

yes. the sequel to "give your heart a break". it's up for grabs yall lol jk

S. Any fandom tropes you can’t resist?

honestly, idk if this is a trope, but i love when ppl write colby as sarcastic and dry and a bit broody. especially the sarcastic part.

i write colby as a lot more sarcastic than i actually think he is. i usually write colby kinda like how my humor is irl, but i don't think that's really realistic. i feel like my humor (or how i write colby) is probs closer to sam rather than colby lol

T. Any fandom tropes you can’t stand?

um... not a trope, but solby. i don't read or interact with fics that have solby in them. and i think the reason why i dislike solby in fics so much is bc some fans read those stories and then believe it. like, if you enjoy reading solby fics, that's fine. but don't ship them irl. they clearly love each other dearly but only in a PLATONIC way.

i mean i have a problem in general with fans taking two guys who are just friends, and that are real ppl, and trying to find some weird way to see if they're gay or secretly dating. i've seen it in so many fandoms, it's ridiculous.

so... yeah. solby. no bueno lol

also, (and this isn't really a trope or something i hate, but i find it funny), that anytime a story is set in hs with snc, they somehow make them so scary and thuggish lol like... snc at 18 years old looked like this:

in WHAT universe are they scary??? they played in marching band. they wore cargo shorts every day. they were the weird kids that would go to haunted/abandoned houses. they probably naruto ran everywhere lol

and i get it, it's a fanfic. you can change how they were. but EVEN THEN, they still looked like this ^^^

THEY LOOK LIKE BABIES ! no amount of all black clothes are gonna make them intimidating lmao

again i don't hate it, i think it adds an extra layer of hilarity without the author meaning it to.

[trashinaglass-archive]

Sensitive

Y/n is worried their night was ruined

A/n: I was reading a Bucky fic that I cannot find again of course that kind of inspired this? It was about Bucky taking reader to dinner and then getting upset bc she flirted with the waiter so he revenge flirted with a waitress. Idk it was messy but somewhere along the way came this. 

Family was the top priority in Chris’s life. But as much as he wanted to be, he wasn’t around his family near as much as he wished he could be. Filming kept him busy, and even when he could be home, it was difficult to find time where everyone could come together. It made you feel bad, whenever he couldn’t see his family, or they were there with some missing pieces.

Over the fall break, you wanted to have everyone show up, surprise Chris, and have a fun family reunion- something that has been long overdue. You spent months planning and prepping, and tonight was finally the night. The afternoon was spent making calls, positive that everyone was ready and at the restaurant when you showed up.

“What kind of restaurant is this?” Chris asked as he walked into the master bathroom. You were finishing up your makeup when he walked in, still in your favorite pajamas, waiting until right before you left to change. “I mean are we talking formal, casual? You going in that?”

You look up, making eye contact with him though the mirror, and roll your eyes as a small smile rose on your face. “I’ll wear mine if you wear yours,” you tease before changing to a more serious answer. “I’d say it’s a bit in between? I don’t think a suit is expected, but if you wore one, it wouldn’t be questioned.”

Chris looked thoughtful for a second before nodding his head. “I think I got it,” he said before turning and walking into the closet. You finished your makeup and made your way to the closet as well, moving to your side knowing exactly what you wanted to wear for the evening. It was your absolute favorite outfit that didn’t get worn often, but each time it was, you couldn’t get enough of it. “You look gorgeous,” Chris said, watching as you stand in front of the mirror.

You smile, moving to where he stood as his arms wrapped around your waist. “Thank you,” you whisper as you look down, you hands moving up his clothed chest. “This was a good choice, I like it.”

“Gotta keep up you somehow,” he joked. “Let’s go.” He held his hand out, allowing you to walk ahead of him. You checked your phone, noticing a text notification.

Scottie: If you’re not here in 3, I’m ordering without you❤️

You couldn’t help but laugh causing Chris to ask who text.

“My brother,” you told him, shaking your head. “He’s just an idiot.”

. . .

The drive to the restaurant was short, Chris ironically talking about something his sister said that was really funny. It made the excitement build even more, knowing how happy he would be once he saw everyone.

“Reservation for Evans,” he told the hostess once you were inside. She nodded, talking into her head piece before instructing you to follow her. Chris’s hand was on your back as the girl lead you to a private dining room.

“Surprise,” you whisper to him right before you get to the door. You heard Chris mutter a confused what as you quickly enter the private room, smiling to the Evans family before moving out of the way for Chris to enter.

“Surprise!” They all shout in unison, Chris jumping slightly before yelling back holy shit in excitement, immediately moving to hug his mom first. You smile, accepting hugs from everyone as well before finally getting seated. The waiter brought the menus out, now that everyone was finally present, and took drink orders. You sat back, watching as Chris and his dad spoke of some football stats they were obviously pumped for. The waiter came back shortly with trays full of drinks. You weren’t paying attention as he made his way to you, but you felt the cold liquid as it fell down your front. You saw the five or six empty cups on the floor after the waiter tripped over the rug. Chris immediately handed you his napkin, trying to help as best he could.

“I am so sorry!” The waitor exclaimed immediately, looking at you with concern. You were so shocked, you didn’t know what to say.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about,” you tell him, almost as if it were scripted. You felt as if you couldn’t look up from your top. “I’m gonna go to the restroom,” you announce standing from the chair.

“I’ll go with you,” his sister offered, beginning to stand as well.

“No,” you declined. “Don’t worry about. It’s fine, I’ll be right back.” You turn, asking where the restroom was before walking out the door, out of sight.

“There’s a sweater in the car,” Chris told them. “I’ll go get that for her.” He stood and walked out as well, moving as fast as he could without causing a scene to unknowing guests.

“I feel so bad for her,” Scott said, looking at his mother.

“I’m gonna go check on her, see if I can help,” Carly stood up. She maneuvered her way through the restaurant to the bathroom. She found you standing in front of the sink, using paper towels to get as much of the moister out of the fabric as possible. A single sniff grabbed her attention. “You okay?” She asked, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Yeah,” you answered, but you couldn’t help the subtle shake to your voice. “I’m fine.” The presence of another person strangely making the tears come faster.

“Why are you crying? It’s okay.”

“I just.. I really just need a second to myself,” you tell her honestly. “I don’t want to be rude, but-“

“No, I get it. I’ll go,” she reassured you. “But I just wanted to let you know Chris went to grab you something else to change into.”

She turned, leaving you behind the door but bumping into Chris soon after. “Hey, can you take this to y/n?” He asked, not wanting to barge into the ladies room.

“No,” she answered honestly. Chris was taken aback, never expecting to hear it. She looked back at the door before speaking again. “She’s crying. I don’t know if she’s embarrassed or what happened, but she said she wanted to be by herself. You should probably be the one.”

“She’s crying?” He repeated, as if he didn’t hear his sister correctly. She nodded her head. “Ok, give us a second.” Without waiting for a reply, Chris walked past her, moving to the bathroom door. He gently knocked before peaking his head in.

“What’s up, buttercup?” He asked as he entered, knowing the cheesy lines always make you laugh. Usually. You didn’t even look up. “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head, not even wanting to talk about it. Chris placed a hand on your waist, waiting for you to say anything. “I feel like I ruined it,” you admitted to him, your voice barely over a whisper.

“Baby,” he sighed, completely shocked by your answer. “You didn’t ruin anything. None of this was your fault, it was just an accident. You could never have predicted something like that.”

You sniffle, catching your breathe. “I just wanted you to have a fun night with them, and not worry about me getting in the way.”

“Y/n, you are the absolute best women in the world. Doing this was incredible in itself, but this is a family. Mistakes happen all the time, especially when we’re all together. It easily could’ve been me or Scott. Preferably Scott, actually, that would’ve been a great laugh.” You finally turn your head to look at him, silently agreeing with his subtle joke. “The night was not ruined. One day we’re all going to look back; we’ll remember the fond memories, we’ll laugh about that clumsy waiter, and then we’ll smile thinking of how you made this all possible. You made this night, baby. Not the other way around.”

He reached up, gently wiping a tear from your face. He pressed gentle kisses all over your face, making you scrunch your nose, before capturing your lips with his. “I love you,” you declare, finding your voice.

“And I love you,” he repeated, placing one last kiss before turning his attention to the sweater slung over his shoulder. “Here- I grabbed this. Can’t have you uncomfortable at your own dinner party.” You tossed your top to the side, letting Chris help slide the bigger one over your torso. The warmth so inviting after being in a wet one for so long. “We can head back whenever you’re ready.”

You sighed, almost not wanting to face your in-laws again after being so dramatic, but you knew you had to. Grabbing one last paper towel, you clean yourself up. No traces of smeared makeup left on your face. You threw it away, and immediately walked into Chris’s arms for a hug. “Thank you.”

He smiled, wrapping his arms around you, rubbing your back soothingly. “It’s what I’m here for.” You pulled away, turning to grab your shirt only for Chris to take it from you, silently offering to carry it. You got back to the table, noticing two small glasses filled with clear liquid in front of your seat.

“Shots on me,” Scott announced when he saw you. “Figured you could use some alcohol after that.”

You laughed, appreciating his humor in the moment. “You know me too well,” you reply as you sit down. Picking up the first glass, you all cheers before downing the liquor, one right after the other. You notice the same waiter walk back in, this time with food. He made sure to be extra careful of where he was stepping this time. He stopped to let you know that he would bring you any dessert you wanted, on the house, for his mistake. You thanked him and watched as he exited the room, his right side bumping into the doorframe slightly, making him stumble.

“What a klutz.”

. . .

we’re leaving that last comment up for debate on who said it. 

[doctorsiren]

Ok. This has been bugging me since I watched it so I have a question. In baby hotline, what exactly happened in the first part? (Up until they meet up with Cleo) like I get the general gyst of it but I want to know Details (if you have them and if you’re willing to share ofc <3)

Okay I’m gonna die because I had like… half of this typed out and then Tumblr crashed on me and I lost everything I had written ;v;

But yeah I had to go back and watch the actual animatic again cuz it’s been a while haha

So basically, in the beginning, NPC is pretending to be Grian, and he’s hanging out with his best best buddy, Mumbo. Mumbo isn’t aware that he’s actually NPC, and he thinks that Grian’s just being really friendly.

But then, (NP)Grian starts acting strange. He starts alluding to his robotic-ness, and Mumbo starts to become uneasy. Something is wrong, and he can feel it.

Then, NPC reveals himself. He asks Mumbo if he wants to join him, become an NPC, become (in his mind) perfect. See, for NPC, he believed that Mumbo would say yes! Mumbo was his friend, and so he would definitely agree…

NPC’s never really had friends before. The only one who ever really cared about him was Taurtis. NPC was never taught how to love or even what love is since Grian never loved him.

Mumbo outright refuses. Now he knows that something is up. NPC has Grian’s gauntlet. And where’s Grian? How long has this copy been impersonating G? Mumbo wanted to be NPC’s friend, but now...he’s done something very wrong and Mumbo isn’t sure what to do.

NPC was not expecting Mumbo to say no. It catches him off-guard. No worry though. NPC has the gauntlet, and won’t take no for an answer. He *snapshoots* (hehe) Mumbo and turns him into NPC Mumbo Jumbo (AKA Mumbot). It was a split-second decision.

Now Mumbot is an NPC. He doesn’t feel quite right. He doesn’t feel like himself anymore.

NPC isn’t having the best time either. During the “Hotline!” Bits, he’s realizing what he did. He made a hasty decision, and he can’t just…go back from it. If he were to turn Mumbo back into a human, he would definitely throw him back in a closet. NPC was scared of being forgotten, so this was the way, he believed, it had to be. Also, he’s glitching. It’s not just an art choice, but an actual story thing. NPC was shut in a closet for around 4 years, and so he’s not up to date with the latest version of minecraft. His systems are outdated. That’s why in Part 2 (Touch-Tone Telephone), he’s confused and then afraid of the bees. He doesn’t know what they are since he was in the closet for that update.

In the next bit, NPC shakes away his bad feelings to look at his newly perfected friend. He’s a robot man like him! Mumbot isn’t fighting back anymore. He seems perfectly happy being this way! NPC tells him that, “hey look, everything went okay! What were you scared about?”

But then...Mumbot discovers his new powers.

If you’ll recall, NPC can teleport (he can fly too but smh that was too OP and I forgot that he could until like...Part 5).

Well, Mumbot can go zappy zap. He starts to show a sign of...what is that...evilness? Not quite, but it’s enough to scare NPC. Mumbo’s more powerful than NPC meant, and he’s not sure what to do.

NPC sees Mumbot and Robocleo and starts to think about his decisions. At one point, RoboCleo is holding Xisuma’s helmet (the one that Joe wore in Part 3).

We once again cut to NPC glitching and thinking about what he’s done

And then we get to Mumbot.

This is a really important thing actually. So, when Mumbot was near NPC, he acted strange. He acted the way that NPC wanted him to act, even if NPC didn’t know that’s what he wanted. This is because NPC is subconsciously controlling the NPCGang when they’re near him.

RoboCleo becomes his right hand man, Mumbot becomes his beeeest friend >:))) (smh NPC IS A SIMP FOR MUMBO AND SO MUMBOT IS A SIMP BACK BC OF THE CONTROLLING THING)

But now Mumbot was by himself. He starts to be able to think his own thoughts clearly. He starts to become depressed and anxious. He thinks that the real Grian must be dead. And that means Joe and Xisuma too. His friends...gone. Reduced to atoms.

And he starts to hate himself because he let this happen. He didn’t catch on early enough to stop NPC from doing this. He didn’t check in to see where NPC was.

And so he starts to cry.

But Jrumbot doesn’t like to see his papa sad. He runs in and tells his father that he still loves him. Mumbot looks at his baby boy and realizes that there’s nothing he can do, so he might as well make the best of the situation. So he takes his son to meet up with his other father, his brother, and his aunt.

So then, I know you said you meant to beginning bit, but whatever I’m doin’ the full thing.

So now NPC, Mumbot, Jrumbot, and Robocleo are sitting atop Grumbot’s head, vibing.

Smh look at them >:( stop being so cute /j

Since they’re near NPC, Mumbot and RoboCleo’s thoughts have been overridden by him and now they like him. He starts to talk about his anxieties and fears, but his two robot buddies reassure him that everything will be okay. They do this because NPC, deep down, wants them to. They obey.

NPC is telling them how he’s scared that they will forget about him or that they hate him.

Mumbot tells him that he would never hate him. That he would stay by his side.

(Also it’s really funny because someone told me that at this frame, they thought Mumbot and NPC were gonna kiss- AND LIKE THAT’S EXACTLY WHY I HAD TO HAVE THIRDWHEEL ROBOCLEO POP IN ON THE NEXT FRAME HAHAH)

NPC then gets his confidence back. He’s laughing and is fine.

But then the phone starts to ring.

Not a literal phone, but more of like...his consequences calling. He can’t run from them forever. He has to pick up the phone sometime.

And yeah! I hope that was helpful? I didn’t realize how confusing Baby Hotline was for people when I made it since I have the story in my head. Man, it’s nice to just...have somewhere to put this. But yeah. There’s a ton of lore and angst and stuff that goes on outside of the animatics that I don’t have the screen time to show sadly

BUT! Once I finish the animatic series, I will be writing it out as a full length fanfic, with TONS of extra stuff and like...full angst and character development. I hope that it all goes well haha

If you read all this, then I award you a choccy milk

[juminsqrincess]

RFA + saeran’s petnames headcannons

GENDER NEUTRAL 

something small to start the blog off hehe~ here are the RFA’s and saeran’s (minus v because i literally haven’t played his route or looked at him HJGHGJ sorry-) favourite pet names to call you: (minor spoilers for saeran)

yoosung:

not gonna lie, poor baby yoosung is probably the one *being* called the pet names most of the time; but after a while he does start to get more comfortable and less anxious and flusterable (is that word? LMAO) when giving affection to the MC. he starts off very slowly, calling you the pet names when you’re both sleepy, or when you’re focused on a game with him, so you don’t notice it too much (though his face still reddens in anticipation to your reaction) and then pet names become a more natural thing for him, and just start slipping out- especially if you give him a positive reaction because he just wants to see you happy! 

pet names include: - honey (delivered with a cheesy grin, he thinks he’s all smooth and classy) - bubby (literally just baby but with extra yoosung sweetness added - it started out as something he used in his sleepy voice and then you picked up a liking to it- it still kind of embarrasses him)  - birdie (likes the concept of you being all small and fluffy- *is small and fluffy*- yoosung’s version of the classic pet name ‘dove’) - snuggles (definitely WAS NOT the name of his old teddy bear that he MAYBE still keeps as a SECRET to cuddle when he misses you-) - his little pogchamp

zen:

pet name GOD - shamelessly started using pet names as SOON as you two hit it off, this man is a pet name machine he has TRICKS UP HIS SLEEVE. bro. he uses as many pet names as he can to figure out your weak spots and then TAKES ADVANTAGE OF THIS KNOWLEDGE. it boosts his ego to see you flustered because of him of course - though he wants you to feel special too! he has a few favourites listed here with special meaning~

pet name include: - babe/jagi/jagiya (duh bro?? its like canon or sum) - beautiful/handsome/gorgeous - whatever suits you most~ (NEED I SAY MORE? SOMEONE AS BEAUTIFUL AS HIM WILL ONLY BE WITH SOMEONE EQUALLY AS GOOD-LOOKING?? he also give constant compliments be warned) - cutie (wholesome zen moment) - good-lookin’ (said as he casually pulls you in by the waist to kiss your forehead, wow zen you’re so smoo0th) -  sexy (IT’S THE BEAST BRO)

jaehee:

unfortunately none of us have really seen jaehee’s more lovey-dovey side in the game - she probably prefers calling you by your name the most, and she speaks it almost like it’s a praise, but the odd time she calls you pet names just as a way to appreciate you, or to remind you that she cherishes you. does it very casually and naturally, she’s quite a steady-paced girl so she needn’t force pet names to come, they just do whenever the moment calls for it really.

pet names incluude: - love  - darling (you are dear to herr!! she’s so busy all the time - moments with you are cherished and precious - you’re like a pocket of hope and sunshine in such a grey world full of deadlines and schedules... someone she can truly relax with!) - beloved - dear(est) - sweetheart (BCS. YOU. ARE. SO SWEET! you’re always looking out for her and being so patient with her as she works - you have a heart of gold, and she admires how kind you are to the RFA members - she’s truly lucky to have won a place in your heart <3)

jumin:

this man. this man is so nonchalantly smooth. he doesn’t even know it - or maybe he does - you can’t tell because he’ll just slip in a pet name mid-convo and make you mELT. when he gets soft... pet names are maybe one of his favourite things to tell you, because he gets to show you his more vulnerable and affectionate sides. he uses pet names as a way to spoil you - and spoil you he does because HIS VOICE *IS HEAVEN*, and the light kisses and touches he places on you as he speaks to you so fondly are a BIIG BONUSS. it takes him a while to start using more ‘personalized’ pet names - he sticks to the generic ones at first, they’re classy and simple - but after a while he conjures up newer ones out of his sheer emotion for you - only to be used in private though.

pet names include:  - the usual at first, dear, beloved, honey, love - AND THEN BOOM: precious (you are the most precious thing in his life HANDS DOWN. gets so sentimental when he uses it aswell - will whisper it to you before bed or when he’s trying to comfort you - nothing in this world compares to how much you mean to him) - kitten (yeah you thought i would stop myself - no.) - mr/mrs/mx* han (after you get married he does this a lot in public - maybe to show off a little bit and see everyone’s surprised faces as he follows it with ‘dear’ or something - he isn’t big into PDA but he has his smug sneaky ways of letting you know that he is thankful to have you) - HIS prince/princess/your majesty/highness: (DUUUDE... he wants the BEST for you - you’ve finally shown him what the wonderful feelings of love do! you hold that power over him at least! ...will kiss your hand when he uses this)

saeyoung:

saeyoung has... stranger more unique ways to show you affection, and the pet names he uses do not escape his whacky tendencies - uses pet names as a way to put a smile on your face and to make you laugh, to see that cute bright smile on your face! of course though, saeyoung has a (small) share of pet names that are more sensical and have some sort of more obvious meaning behind them. he starts off using dumb pet names, then as he gets emotionally attached stops, then he accepts he loves you and starts using really cheesey pet names, theenn he regains some of his happiness with you and becomes more jokey again (WHEW!). 

pet names include: (besides the normal boooring ones /j) - his star (you guided him to his happiness... you shone for him brightly when he had no shine himself - you cheered him up with your beauty and warmth - and you guys did kick ass stuff in his good end like it was a MOVIE or something – also spaaace??) - weird food names - starts off as honey and sweetie pie - gets weird fast... will call you his chip and his nurse pepper ( doctor is reserved for the drink - otherwise it gets confusing) - LOWKEY MAKES FUN OF YOU... if you’re short he’ll call you shortie - if you’re tall he calls you tallie (haha funny.) if you’re blonde he calls you blondie, and if you have freckles or dimples OR GLASSES - consider it your new name. also starts calling you after the things you wear - if you wear chains, he calls you chains, if you wear dramatic makeup, he starts calling you a diva - will call you noob i’m sorry - sweet cheeks (SEVEN WHICH CHEEKS-) - boople snoot (yes.) - his galaxy (the seven alternative to my world)

saeran:

okay so - it’s assumed that saeran is actually a DID system but i’m writing for good end saeran because um - lets be honest the alters were not the most healthy and probably wouldn’t have been doing any pet name calling (ray being too insecure, black suit saeran and unknown... being black suit saeran and unknown? it would have been sarcastic and mean)

after all of the hardships you guys had gone through... saeran was TERRIFIED that you would leave because why on earth would you want to stick by with him i mean?? all he had known his whole life is literally mistreatment he thought you were too good to be true. but you stuck by and you gave him what he had needed for so long - you always made him feel safe and he finally belonged somewhere, felt like the world wasn’t ALWAYS out for him, he could breathe easier now. very reluctant at first - messing up with you especially gave him paralyzing fear. but then you showed him such loyalty, he looked at you and saw that yes you made mistakes, that you were human, and you reminded him that it was okay to be human too. so slowly he trusted that you would accept him being affectionate back - he wanted to appreciate you like you appreciated him - despite all of the flaws he saw in himself constantly. (WHOO I LOVE SAERAN SO MUCH OMG CAN YOU TELL??)

pet names include: - angel (do i need to explain this?? you’ve saved his life - his future, everything. he sees you with a halo around your head constantly, even at your darkest moments, because he’s been there before too!) - flower (at first glance may seem like a cute thing because ray liked gardening - which sure part of it is that - but moreover he talks about your beauty when he uses this pet name, about how happy you make him, he sees you as someone delicate and gentle yet at the same time someone bold and bright - someone that the world NEEDS) - sunshine (you brighten his day, his month, his year, his life - aaand well a garden does need sunshine doesn’t it? you keep him going when he feels like giving up) - love and dear (too classic not to be included with a man that wore fancy suits JHGH)  - sweetheart/sweetie/honey (along with his big sweet tooth - he thinks you’re the sweetest person he’s ever met) - sugarplum (pls let me have this)

*mx is like m(r)s and mr but for non-binary folks :)

[2018shawn]

newborn???

I’m soft for dad!Tom atm so how about surprising him that you’re pregnant by giving him a mini Spider-Man suit. 🥺🥺🥺

a/n: I can’t believe how much I’m writing am I feeling OkAyY??? I really loved this request so THANK U I also really enjoyed writing this and think it may be one of my favourite things ever wieghnksd thank u to @shawnsmoose​ for putting up with me annoying her 

a/n 2.0: can we also appreciate the ending bc I feel it is true tom style ... caring ... but not necessary 

warnings: the teeniest tiniest talk of smut until Tom does a tom. swearing I think?? maybe??? fluff???? TESSA. BABIES. HAPPY BYE 

You sighed, looking at the ridiculously big clock on the wall opposite you. 6pm; Still at least another hour until Tom got home and that’s with the best of traffic. Straightening the table runner yet again, you brushed over it with your hands to remove any creases before moving on to straightening the cutlery. It was funny, really; that you thought cooking tom’s favourite dinner would somehow soften the blow of the news you had to break to him.

Okay, you said aloud to yourself, stepping back with your hands on your hips to admire your - if you say so yourself – perfect display. Checking under your seat where you always sat, you made sure the small gift bag was there, just in case you’d dreamt putting it there, nodding to yourself when you saw it sat waiting. Might as well make a start on the vegetables.

In the kitchen, you played some soft music to calm your nerves. You stood in the door of the refrigerator, the light hitting you as you squinted at the half-finished bottle of white wine which was screaming your name. It’s gonna be a long 9 months. Sighing as you grabbed the peach lemonade instead; you flipped it towards the counter, feeling super impressed with yourself when it landed upright. Tom and Jake would never, you thought, laughing to yourself as you recalled their excitement on the plane when they managed to get it in the cup holder in one go.

It was safe to say, after one and a half months of him filming in a completely different country, you were ready for him to return as even the pictures on the walls were rolling their eyes at you talking to yourself. Your phone pinged, and you pulled it from your back pocket before it had even stopped vibrating.

Traffic ain’t too bad. See you soon, baby girl 🥺🏡💛

Can’t wait, roastie’s are in the oven and beers in the fridge 🐷🍺

Marry me? 💛💛💛

You giggled as you were about to shove your phone back in your pocket, another vibration forcing you to open your phone screen again.

Actually, that’s not even a question. You will marry me 🍑😈

“Oh honey, I’m homeeeeee!” He sang, and you heard his suitcase roll across the hard hallway floor before it stopped, assumingly being propped up at the bottom of the stairs. You’d missed his goofy ways, he annoyingly loud voice, his warm hugs.

He practically ran into the kitchen, hitting the breaks when he saw you heading towards his direction. “HI,” he screamed, actually running up to you and wrapping his arms around your waist. You think he almost knocked you over, but you knew he wouldn’t allow that to happen. Holding you close, he made a super squishy noise as he bear hugged you, lifting you off the ground.

“Hi, baby” You giggled, pulling your head away, your chests still touching, and arms still tangled around each other.

His lips came crashing down, eager to feel you, touch you, taste you. He’d missed you more than he’d let on since he’d been away. He knew you struggled being alone for such a long period of time, so he took it upon himself to be the stronger one, insisting that it wasn’t long until he’d be home and you’re in his arms. He, of course, felt even possibly worse than you did, wanting nothing more to be home with you, to make sure you’re safe. He’d be lying if he said his brothers coming around to borrow his computer shit was all coincidental.

He tasted of a mixture of mento’s, the mint ones, and cherry pepsi max and it felt infectious. He hummed into your lips as your fingers found their way into his bouncy hair and his fingers curled into your waist, almost like he was checking you were actually real. “How long do we have until dinner’s ready?” He smirked, nudging your nose with his.

On cue, the timer on the oven starting a repetitive beep and he groaned, pouting his bottom lip out like a little kid when you walked away, swaying your hips with an extra bounce. He tried distracting you as you dished up your meal, which was the last thing he wanted to eat with you stood in front of him. “Tom, I need to talk to you first, remember.”

“Yeah, but we could also talk after?” His arms were wrapped around your waist as you spooned the vegetable on his overloaded plate; you were definitely a feeder. You swatted his arm away as he tried to steal a roast potato, which were of course covered in your secret seasoning. He managed to sneak one, groaning and whistling out loud when he realised it was far too hot for consumption. Raising your eyebrows, you scowled him as if to say I told you so.

To say he was more interested in tasting you than tasting his dinner, it wasn’t on his plate for longer than 7 minutes, approx, washing the whole thing down with the rest of his beer. He joked that he’d finished filming now, meaning there was room for more food without a strict diet for once.

“So, you wanted to talk?” He asked, leaning back in his chair as he patted at his stomach. Oh the irony.

“Uh, yeh…” you shuffled in your seat, palms feeling sweaty and throat going a little dry, “I got you something.”

You started to bend down, to retrieve your gift from under the table but he slid back in his chair, causing a screech across the wooden floor, “OOOO, NO. I got YOU something!”

“No, Tom, can it…” he was already out the door heading to his suitcase before you could finish, leaving you to finish your sentence, “… wait.”

He came back through, holding a tiny bag, placing a delicate kiss on your forehead. “There was this little store and I knew you’d love it, because you like silver jewellery, so I got this made.” He shoved it in your hands, pulling the seat out and sitting next to you, instead of in his normal seat opposite. Your heart warmed at his thoughtful gift, although you had to chew at your lip as your nerves built. Inside was a little box, wrapped in a delicate white ribbon, with assumingly the company name’s initials embossed onto the front. It was like he was watching you open a Christmas present, spilling tails of how he thinks it’s the cutest thing he’s got you yet and if you don’t wear it, he will. Your lips parted as you opened the lid, the silver bangle shining up at you. Wrapped around were three separate charms; two T’s, and your own initial. “Because we’re like a little family, right? And I wanted to be with you, and you…” he laughed as he stroked Tessa who was sat under his feet, “even if I’m physically not.”

You weren’t soft, by any stretch of the imagination, but something about tom made you feel like jelly and melt like butter. “I bloody love you, you idiot.” You beamed, “it’s beautiful, thank you.” You couldn’t help but note how there may soon need to be another initial on there, panicking as you played his words over in your mind. We’re like a little family. What if what you’re about to tell him is going to ruin everything? What if he doesn’t want it? What if he doesn’t want you?

“So… my turn now,” he smiled, fluttering his eyelashes at you. You sighed heavily. Here goes nothing. Reaching under your chair, his eyebrows raised with an impressed glow at your organisation, much different to his presentation. He furrowed his eyebrows, hands reaching out for the small, brown gift bag, clinching his fingers back and forth like a little kid himself.

If he thought you opened your present slowly, boy, did he wanna be in your shoes right now. He fought with the white tissue paper you’d wrapped the small item in, muttering to himself as he eventually just ragged it out and threw it behind him, tessa immediately jumping to it and running around with it in her mouth like the proudest dog in the world.

The pattern of the item was familiar to him - how could it not be? The red and blue suit, with black lines decorating the majority, was exceptionally smaller compared to the one he wore on set. His face was scrunched up in confusion, “you know I can just get one that fits me right?”

“It’s not meant to fit you,” you rolled your eyes, reaching over and turning over the size tag that was still attached.

“First size/newborn” he whispered to himself, “newborn...”

He sat for about 10 seconds in silence, and it killed you, because it felt like 10 hours. His eyes finally snapped up to meat your worried overwatch, “NEWBORN?!”

Excitingly repeating the word, he pointed at the small baby grow “newborn?”

Then to his (in true Tom style) his penis, “newborn?”

And then finally to your lower stomach, “newborn?”

You nodded, bringing your lips together into a thin line as you let him digest the news. He grabbed the small sleepsuit, clutching it in his hand as he lunged forward, wrapping his arms around you, wanting to never let go. “I didn’t know if you wanted this yet, and I understand if you’re not ready, and we can talk, but I really think I...”

He pulled you back, a hand on each shoulder, resting his forehead against yours. “Y/N, this is the best fucking this to ever happen to me, to us. Thank you so much...” your eyes filled up, just as his did, only yours was with relief. You’d never considered getting rid of the baby, and hoped Tom didn’t want to either, but you did come to accept that he might not be ready.

“I think I should thank you, it’s you that looked really hot at the premiere. And it’s also you that didn’t pull out quick enough, evidently” You giggled, and he laughed too, using his thumbs to wipe the tears that were only just escaping your eyes.

“You looked hot too.” He stated, giving you a peck on the lips. “How long have you known?”

“About a week, I knew your dumb ass would fly home and ruin filming for something that’s the size of a blueberry.”

“Oh my god, we got a baby blueberryyyy” he grinned, his hand coming down to rest on your stomach.

“I mean, yeh, but at the minute all you’ll feel is just roast potatoes in there”

Tucked up in bed, you rested on his chest, his fingers drawing random patterns on your side as you leant into him. “Are we really.. gonna do this?” You stuttered out, feeling his lips press to the top of your head.

He adjusted so you shuffled gently onto your back, rolling himself on top of you, leaning on his forearms to be careful not to crush you, and your blueberry. “I wouldn’t ever force you to keep it... him... her? Baby berry?... But I know you’re just scared. And I am too but that’s ok.” He pressed loving kisses to your tingling lips between each set of words as your hands toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck, “I mean, we were gonna have one eventually.”

“We were?” You smirked, interested to hear more.

“Mhmmm...” he hummed, moving his lips from your mouth and across your jaw, eventually ending up at the delicate skin on your neck as he spoke, “I think 3. 1 boy, 1 girl, 1 blueberry...” Your laugh filled the room at not only his tom-ness, but the way his breath tickled your neck as he spoke. “In a big house, and another tessa, maybe a couple more chickens because my kids are gonna love dippy egg and soldiers.”

His tongue lapped the areas his teeth were nibbling, swapping his needy, harsh touch for a more gentle approach. You groaned into him, back arching as he grazed all your sensitive spots, his hands running up your t shirt and cupping your breast. You moaned his name into him, with nothing but love filling the word.

Your nipples grew hard between his fingers as he toyed with you, barely noticing how he was moving around on top of you, reaching over to the bedside drawer and rummaging through.

“Tom, what on Earth are you doing?” You laughed.

“Getting a condom?

[turinn]

Naive

Ray Blackwell x M!Reader

Summary: An invitation at a party reveals that Luka had no idea you’re gay, and brings up a concern you hadn’t had before. Tags: Crack, fluff, secret relationship, mention of homophobia, alcohol consumption A/N: This is based on a dream I had where Luka and I had this exact conversation and when I woke up and remembered it I nearly threw up laughing. I did actual research for the girls outfit and hair bc im a fashion history nerd. the pocket watch i just thought was cute. Fenrir calls the reader fruity but its okay bc hes gay too god bless Word Count: 1.5k

The party was the usual affair expected of the Godspeed's, an air of elegance- present but not too overbearing- hanging over the large hall. Music drifted gently to your ears as you took everything in, a small smile settling on your face.

You couldn't help but feel a little underdressed. The officers had, of course, kept their uniforms on, but everyone else present was dressed to the nines. You'd thought the suit you wore was lovely when you and Seth had seen it last week, dark blue with a white trim, paired with a pale cyan tie and pocket square. The gold watch that settled comfortably in your pocket had been a gift from Blanc, supposedly made by Oliver to look similar to his own, to commemorate your decision to stay in Cradle. Compared to everyone else, it felt rather simple now, but you pushed the thought aside. Nobody was judging what you were wearing, they were here to enjoy themselves same as you.

"Would you like a drink?" Ray asked, voice soft enough not to startle you too much. This wasn't too effective, as you'd gotten lost in your thoughts, and sort of forgotten there were people around you, but it was kind of him to try. "Oh, yes, please." You smiled at him and a moment later he'd walked off, talking to Sirius about something, leaving you alone with Luka. Fenrir had disappeared to greet his family when you'd first arrived, and Seth was who knows where, but you didn't mind it being just the two of you. Luka rarely came to these, in fact this was the first he'd been to since you'd arrived in Cradle, despite it being your fifth, and you decided someone should stick with him so he didn't feel quite as nervous.

As you turned to say something to him, you noticed a lady making her way over to the both of you, looking rather flustered. Her fists were clenched at her sides, and she seemed to be muttering something to herself, but it was clear she had intent to speak to one of you. Perhaps she wanted to talk to Luka? He was cute, it wouldn't surprise you. What did surprise you, however, was when she walked up to you instead.

"Um, excuse me if this is far too forward, but... would you be interested in dancing with me?" She sounded so nervous, and you almost wanted to say yes. Any other man would have been lucky to get such an invitation- she looked stunning. She wore her hair in curls, gathered at the back of her neck, with a hairpiece of pale blue flowers was pinned at the front, a necklace donning the same type of flower hanging just above the neckline of her gown. The gown in question matched the colour of the flowers well, though the width of the crinoline supported skirt would have made you concerned about the logistics of dancing with her- if you'd had any intention of saying yes. Her cheeks were tinted pink as she chewed her bottom lip and waited for your answer, avoiding your gaze. A hand on your chest and a sincerely apologetic look on your face, you began to respond. "Oh dear. I'm terribly sorry, but you seem to have gotten the wrong end of the stick. You're a very attractive young lady but I'm afraid... how should I put this," You glanced at Luka for help, but he seemed to have no idea what you were trying to tell her, "I'm afraid I don't tend to set my eye on the ladies, so to speak." "You're... gay?" A sympathetic nod. "That's the ticket. Sorry, love." "Oh, it's not a problem! I'm really sorry to have bothered you!" She suddenly looked much less nervous, though a little embarrassed, and scurried off. You sighed. "I feel a little bad. I really hope she finds someone to dance with." Luka looked at you quizzically. "Why did you lie to her?" A confused laugh escaped you. "I'm sorry?" "You told her you were into guys. Why lie?" As he said this, Seth and Fenrir came up behind him, and hearing his question their eyebrows shot up. So did yours. Was he kidding? "Luka, sweetie, you have got to tell me what part of my personality made you think I was heterosexual, so I can set about changing it immediately." Seth choked on his drink, and though you flashed him a grin, you weren't entirely kidding. Going from Victorian London to a world where being gay was perfectly acceptable had been quite the change, but you'd been certain all of your friends had known. It's not like you were quiet about it, and sure, Luka was naive but... come on, now. "Wait are you... you were being honest?" "Yes?" "Luka," Fenrir began, stepping next to you and resting an elbow on your shoulder, "How have you seriously not noticed that he's gay yet?" "Well- there was no reason for me to assume!" "You watched me drunk make out with at least 2 different Black Army soldiers in my first month here!" Luka looked flustered, and utterly dumbfounded. The expression was one he wore often, usually when people insinuated that someone was in love- but somehow about five times more confused. He was unfortunate enough that Ray and Sirius returned at this moment, just in time to hear both your last remark, and his next one.

"I thought that was just something you did when you were drunk?" In another moment you were on your knees, legs shaking so much from laughter that you couldn't hold yourself up any longer. Fenrir was right there beside you, practically convulsing. Everyone else was laughing too- except poor Luka. You felt a little bad, truly you did, but this had to be the funniest thing you had ever heard. "He's completely straight, but watch out! Get a couple drinks in him and he turns fruity!" Fenrir managed to get out between cackles, and Ray was glad to have put your drinks down when Luka had last spoken, because he too nearly fell to the ground at this.

"Luka- Luka I'm sorry." You pulled yourself to your feet, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "We aren't laughing at you." Another fit of giggles overcame you. "Okay we kind of are, but it's not malicious or anything. That was just... hands down the funniest thing you've ever said." It took most of you 5 or so minutes to fully calm down from what he'd said, and anything that jogged your memories of it would bring you back to a state of uncontrollable laughter for the rest of the night. Luka came round to it being pretty funny after you talked him through the dozens of times you'd mentioned your sexuality to him since you'd met- every one of which had gone over his head.

Hours after the party had worn down and you'd all made your way home, you lay in bed, your head pressed against a familiar chest, and sighed. "What's up?" "I just... D'you think anyone else just hasn't realised?" Ray cocked his head, confused. "I'm gonna need a little more info than that, kitten." "I suppose I just... Back in London, it's not even legal to be gay, and I don't know if it ever will be. When I first came out to Fen, he told me that it was fine here, accepted and even celebrated. So, I guess I just thought that people wouldn't make the automatic assumption that I'm straight, y'know? I mean I talk about it a lot among you guys but- when I’m out and about... where do people think my final destination is? When I pick up a silly cat themed gift for you does the shopkeep think I’m buying it for my wife? It shouldn't be a big deal, I guess, but I'd never been able to be myself until I came here, and now it's like I can be me but... people will still only see who I am if I tell them. It's just weird is all. I dunno. Maybe I'm drunk." "You're not drunk. It's an understandable concern. I guess I've never thought about it, because whether or not people would accept that part of me has never been an issue, but the fact that you've had to hide it for so long and now that you're able to be open people still aren't seeing it must be hard. If you want we could... come out, so to speak?" Your eyebrows raised, and you moved back, propping yourself up on your arm so you could look your partner in the eyes.

It had been decided at the very start of your relationship, which had officially begun a few months after you'd made the choice to stay in Cradle, that the two of you would keep it under wraps for a while. Being from the Land of Reason was more than enough reason for people to take an unwanted interest in you, and you didn't need the extra attention being the King of Spades' partner would garner. Plus, anyone with a grudge against Ray would see you as a target the second you announced it. It had been a sensible suggestion on his part, one you hadn't hesitated to agree to, and as far as you knew only Sirius and Fenrir knew about your relationship. Fenrir because he had walked in on you sitting in Ray's lap while he worked late one night, and Sirius because- well, can anything get past that guy? And now, Ray was offering to tell the entirety of Cradle you were his, just so that you didn't feel like you were hiding your identity anymore? You could feel your eyes starting to burn, and you cursed the late hour and the alcohol in your system for making you cry so easily, but... "I don't think we need to be that drastic. You were right when you said it would keep me safe for us to not be in the public eye, at least for now. I'm sure Seth can come up with some better way for me to tell the whole world I'm gay." "I don't doubt that at all." Ray grinned, placing a gentle kiss on first your forehead, then your nose, and finally on your lips. "Tomorrow, though. You need your beauty sleep." "Ah, yeah, can't risk getting ugly. My boyfriend might not want me anymore." You quipped. "Exactly." He smirked at you, turning out the light and pulling you into his arms.

[svnflowervol666]

could u probably write one where h is dating a girl that’s a lil curvy? (You can look up someone like julia kelly and katya elise henry on ig/tumblr if u wanna know) and she gets a lot of comparisons from a few of his friends and fans, it kinda brings her down a bit bc idk man I’m a bit curvy too but i get so insecure sometimes knowing that people could be so judgmental but i know harry would love his girl no matter what 🥺❤️

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: smut-ish (at the end)

Something was off with Y/N. Harry had known this for the past few days. It wasn’t that she’d been acting completely different, just so much so that being the caring and attentive person that he is, Harry had picked up on it.

At first, it was turning down second helpings at dinner. He didn’t think much of it aside from giving her the side-eye, because it was her favorite meal that Harry only cooked for her on special occasions. Next, it was her offering to pleasure him in the morning with her mouth instead of letting him take care of them both. Again, it was odd for her to turn down early morning sex, but he’d assumed she was just tired. Then came the nights when Y/N refused to sleep naked. Harry and Y/N always slept without clothes on, Harry claiming that it was just one more layer keeping them apart, which he hated. Again, he thought it was weird, but the weather had been particularly nipply lately so he’d chalked it up to her simply getting chilly throughout the night and needing the extra warmth.

The last and final straw, the whistle-blower that tied all of her off-kilter behaviors together, came to Harry when Y/N was in the shower. She was rinsing off after dinner, which she had only picked at anxiously with her fork without actually eating much of, and Harry was cleaning up the kitchen and living room to prepare for the movie night they had planned. When Harry went to move Y/N’s open laptop from the coffee table, he accidentally woke up the screen, and what he saw puzzled him to no end. It was an article pulled up on her browser, one from a tabloid company titled, “Reasons Why Y/N is Harry Styles’ Best Girlfriend.” The article was filled with photos of not only him and Y/N but of him and his past girlfriends as well. The point was to prove how much happier Harry looked with Y/N as opposed to his exes, but Harry was peeved regardless. Sure, some of these women had done him wrong in the past and left him feeling absolutely gutted, but he hated seeing them being put up against each other in this fashion.

Only adding to his frustration, the next tab over from the article was twitter account that Y/N and Harry had made one drunken night in order to spy on his fans and have a good laugh at how funny some of his followers were. They logged on and scrolled through the tweets together occasionally, but the tweets pulled up on the screen were all about Y/N’s body rather than jokes about how badly they wanted Harry to run them over with his car or memes made out of the horrid candids people had taken of him on stage. They claimed that Y/N was better than Camille because she “actually has an ass,” and that Taylor could never pull off a dress like the one Y/N wore on New Year's Eve because she didn’t have the right curves like Y/N did. Again, not necessarily negative comments, but this coupled with the other article Y/N had been looking at was enough for Harry to comprehend what was happening here.

It didn’t take much for Harry to put it all together, and it broke his heart when he did. She was comparing herself to the other girls Harry had been with. He wasn’t stupid. He knew what people said about Y/N and he knew very well that she looked much different than the other girls he typically went for. People certainly picked up on Harry’s “type,” seeing as he was always a hot topic for the press. Therefore when Y/N came along, everyone had tons to say on the matter. He avoided the comments as much as he could, but it was clear that Y/N was unable to say the same.

In the midst of planning how Harry would approach her on the subject, Y/N emerged from the top of the stairs and made her way over to the couch, dressed in an oversized shirt of Harry’s and a pair of her favorite underwear. Harry quickly closed her laptop and moved it into the kitchen as if he hadn’t just been snooping through her browser history.

“Alright,” she huffed as she plopped down onto the plush cushions of the sofa, wet hair sticking to the nape of her neck, “What’re we watching tonight?”

“Dunno,” Harry pondered, “Should we just search romantic comedies on Netflix and see what we find?”

“You know me too well, bubby,” she sighed contently.

A smile tugged at the corners of Harry’s mouth at the nickname she’d used. She appeared to be in a good mood, so he decided not to push his luck and try talking to her another day.

“Ye’ want some popcorn? Bought a new box at the store yesterday.”

“Uhh, no. I think I’m good. Still pretty full from dinner.”

You hardly touched your dinner, Harry thought to himself. He nodded (extremely hesitantly) at his girlfriend before situating his own self on the sofa next to her.

They settled on some independent film they knew they’d both hate, but that was the fun of it. Cracking jokes about how bad the acting was or about how inconsistent the main character’s accent was was almost more fun to Harry than watching a film that was actually good, which was why they ended up watching shitty, low budget ones on their designated, weekly movie nights.

Nearly halfway through the film, Harry absentmindedly slid his arm that was draped around her waist down to reach for Y/N’s thigh to place over his lap. He loved cuddling her this way, which their bodies morphed together and their legs intertwined under the coziest blanket in his house. Y/N loved it too, so Harry was shocked, but up until recently, not surprised, when she quickly pulled her leg away from Harry’s grip and off of his lap.

“Wha’s wrong? Ye’ don’t want to cuddle wi’ me?”

“What do you mean? I am cuddling with you?”

Harry huffed dramatically and rolled his eyes at his girlfriend’s feigned ignorance.

“Ye’ know exactly what I mean, baby. And it’s not just that. You’ve been acting weird lately. I know ye’ think I haven’t noticed, but I have. Ye’ don’t eat as much at dinner anymore, ye’ sleep with a t-shirt on. Ye’ don’t even want me touchin’ ye’ right now. Plus, I saw what was pulled up on your laptop while ye’ were in the shower. I’m not dumb, Y/N. Just wish you’d talk t’ me about it’s all.”

Y/N felt the embarrassment creep up her chest and spread to her neck. Her cheeks burned hot as she stared directly into his emerald green eyes that were begging, pleading for her to open up to him and tell him why she’d been so clearly obsessed with her appearance as of late. She’d had no idea that she’d even made a pattern out of her behaviors must less that Harry had picked up on them. 

“I-...Harry....I don’t want to talk about this right now,” her voice barely came over a whisper.

“Well, I do. What is it? Ye’ think your too big f’ me or somethin’?”

Y/N sighed frustratingly in Harry’s direction. 

“It’s not that. Not entirely anyway. It’s hard to explain. You’ll think it’s stupid.”

She tried not to look at Harry, but his burning gaze made it impossible to tear her eyes away.

“Baby, nothing ye’ say or feel is stupid. Talk t’ me.”

He placed his ringed hand on her kneecap. She was hesitant to not pull away from his touch, but she tried her best to relax against his grip.

“It’s just that...I don’t....look like the other girls you’ve been with,” Y/N chewed her bottom lip anxiously as soon as the words left her mouth.

Harry still didn’t see her point.

“So?” he questioned, “There’s a reason why I’m not with ‘em anymore.”

“I’m just...I see all of these comments about what people say about me...about us and it makes me feel weird.”

“Weird? Like wha’?”

“Weird like I don't really see why you’re even with me, H. I am the polar opposite of all of your exes.”

Harry had half a mind to be angry with Y/N for more or less accusing him of not loving her when that couldn’t have been further from the truth, but he was able to see things from her side and keep his urges to himself. He knew exactly what it was like to be under constant scrutiny from the press, but she didn’t. She didn’t ask for this, she didn’t deserve this, and she certainly shouldn’t be feeling the way she’s feeling right now. 

“Baby,” Harry cooed her, “Wha’ever it is that ye’ read or wha’ever ye’ thinkin’, ‘ts not true. I swear on me mum that you’re the girl I want t’ spend forever with. Ye’ don’t have to change anything about ye’self to get me t’ love ye’ any more than I already do.”

“But-”

“But nothing,” Harry interrupted, “Promise me ye’ won’t read that rubbish anymore. And promise you’ll stop hidin’ ye’self from me, too.”

Y/N nodded slowly, feeling the tension built up in her shoulders slowly dissipating into thin air. Harry was her favorite person in the world, and hearing that from him meant everything. Of course, she’d still have her moments when she’d feel like she wasn’t good enough, but everyone had those. 

“Good,” Harry leaned over to press a chaste kiss over her forehead, “Now give me a proper cuddle.”

He leaned over to grab her by the waist and hoisted her up completely on top of him.

“Harry, no!” Y/N sheepishly exclaimed through embarrassed giggles.

“Y/N, yes!” Harry taunted her as he made them both comfortable on the sofa once more. 

He pulled the blanket up over their shoulders and wrapped his arms securely around her back so that he could pet her spine whilst they finished the movie. She nestled into Harry’s shoulder and breathed in his scent that lingered on his fitted, white t-shirt. Twenty minutes ago, she’d have felt like she was crushing Harry under her weight, but not now. She felt at peace knowing Harry loved her for who she was.

As movie nights typically go with Harry, he started to get quite handsy towards the end of the film. He was starting to shift about the sofa and his palms were navigating towards the supple skin of Y/N’s bum. At first, it was a comforting hand slipping in between the hemline of her panties and just resting there against her bare skin, but soon turned into Harry kneading teasing, firm motions on her ass. His lips had found their way to the sensitive patch of her neck, sucking and tugging the area lazily, but still intense enough to mark her up. 

“Angel,” Harry beckoned when he was able to pull his lips away from her momentarily.

Y/N hummed in response, too intoxicated from the tingling sensation caused by Harry’s tongue mouthing at her throat.

“Sit up f’ me,” Harry demanded, his voice dripping with lust and desire. 

She did as she was told, sitting up so she was still straddling Harry’s chest as she looked down at him. Harry kept a close grip on Y/N’s thighs as he slid further down the couch and his face was now inches away from her core.

“Harry, what’re you-”

“Shh,” Harry’s eyes were blown out and glassy as he switched from looking into her eyes and the damp patch that was slowly but surely forming at the front of her cotton panties. 

“Just let me love on ye’ for a bit. Come closer t’ me.” 

He tried tugging her thighs so that she’d sit down a bit more against him, but she tensed up.

“But I don’t want to-”

“Ye’ not gonna crush me or wha’ever it is that ye’ worried about.”

“I might,” she mumbled to herself.

Her self-depreciation caused Harry to nip the inside of her bare thigh with his teeth, which made her jerk in response.

“Hey!” she scolded.

Harry took advantage of her moment of disorientation and kissed her heat over the front of her panties so that he could taste the juices that had accumulated there. Her chuckles quickly died down into moans when she felt the beginnings of his stubble graze the part of her body where she’d always needed Harry the most. 

“Ye’ gonna listen t’ me now, pet?” Harry asked as he replaced his lips with his thumb, where he began rubbing tantalizingly slow circles against her clothed clit.

“Mhmmm,” Y/N mewled.

“Though so,” Harry finished off with his infamous cheeky smirk.

She settled down properly onto Harry’s face, hovering just over his plump, shining lips until he was ready to taste her again. When he pulled her panties to the side and latched onto her dripping, wet core, she sank even further down against Harry’s tongue, eager to feel him in every possible nook and cranny that he could reach. He drank from her like he’d never wanted anything else in his all of his days.

Y/N had no doubt in her mind that at this moment, Harry was being honest when he said that she was the only person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.