#though it's far out enough and not near any holidays so even if i did have to take a day off work very little could stop me from going now

[twistitch]

Very excited for next summer. Got some tickets to go see Ghost. Gonna be looking forward to that, so it'll help me get through the incoming seasonal depression/work frustrations.

Only thing is not looking forward to potentially having to be the one to drive into the city. We'll see what happens, lots of time until then.

Just gonna focus on the excitement and anticipation. 😌

[writingsbychlo]

BUY ME PRESENTS | draco malfoy

summary; draco loves you, and you love him. he just needs a little push to make things official. OR, draco malfoy fighting for his life when he realises just how much everyone wants his girl.

word count; 8928

notes; this is based on christmas eve, but I'm posted a couple days later! this fic puts us half way through our slytherin boy holidays! I'm not sure how the one I expected to be the shortest became the longest one so far. like, seriously, I know I keep saying this but wtf? why can't I write a short fic?

Dinner had already been served by the time you made it to the Grand Hall, the smells of roasted meats and seasoned potatoes filling the air, your mouth watering as you navigated between the throngs of people. Your seat had been saved, of course. A spot on the bench between Draco and Daphne, and as you neared, your friends noticed, smiles rising and waves in your direction. 

Sinking into your seat, you pressed a kiss to the cheek of the blond boy beside you, his face tipping up to receive it and lips twisting into a smile, attention moving to you as you sat. 

“Good day?”

“Better now that it’s over.” You smiled, a chuckle falling from him, and his hand came to rest upon your thigh, squeezing comfortingly while you helped yourself to a plate of whatever food was left. “What are we talking about, what did I miss?”

“Not much. Just Theo telling us all about Christmas in Italy.” Mattheo rolled his eyes, as though you all hadn't heard this exact same speech since that very first Christmas you’d become friends. Most of the group seemed to have simply tuned it out, laughing and nodding at the correct times as they whispered their own conversations. 

A swipe of a thumb over your thigh as you finished filling your plate with food, and you shifted your attention to Draco. “So, what are your Christmas plans, Dray?”

Shuffling a little bit closer now that your plate was full, his arm moved to lay across your shoulders instead, letting you snuggle up into his side. “Oh, you know, the usual.” 

He smiled, and your world seemed to get a little bit brighter, his lips brushing your hairline as he left a barely-present kiss there. 

“Typical Malfoy-family Christmas. I get to do the tour with my parents, visiting every other rich-arsehole couple they know. Christmas Eve party. The pleasure of my father’s annual ‘you’re growing up now, son, it’s time to get serious about the world’ over the dinner table on Christmas Day. Open some presents I don’t want, on a schedule I don’t like.” He sighed, clearly used to it by now, but it didn’t make it sound any less awful.

“Well,” You smile, nudging him playfully with your elbow. “Maybe we could write to one another, or even get a little visit in?” 

The hope in your voice was evident, and Pansy gave you an encouraging smile across the table. You’d been meaning to ask Draco this question for weeks now, and your last chance had been fast approaching. Since the summer, you and Draco had been hooking up. It was no secret among your friends, or even the students; your affections for one another were hardly contained, but it wasn't official. 

You wanted the labels, the security, and the safety of knowing that he was yours and you were his, and nobody else could come between you. You wanted to be introduced to his parents, be his date at events, to have him be proud to call you his girl. But Draco had been hesitant, avoiding every conversation that might inch into the ‘so, what are we?’ territory, keeping a safe distance from any kind of real commitment. 

It wasn’t enough for you anymore, not by a long shot, but trying to talk to Draco about it only ended up with him shutting it down, or skilfully diverting the conversation and you were growing tired of his games. 

Draco only made a vague noise, neither an agreement nor disagreement, and looked away from you as he picked up his drink to take a sip. “I don’t know… maybe. I can get pretty busy over the holidays, I’d hate to let you down.”

Another skill of his, making it seem like cancelling or delaying or not doing something at all was your idea. He was clearly hoping you’d brush it off, and tell him not to worry about it, but instead, you kept quiet. Not giving him the satisfaction of any easy win, this time. 

Pansy caught your eye across the table, shaking her head disapprovingly, and shooting a glare at an oblivious Draco. She had been your confidant these last few months, every update and development in your situationship, she’d been informed of. Every decision, she’d been a part of. She was practically as invested as you were, at this point, and she certainly did not approve of his nonchalant behaviour either. 

“Speaking of parties,” Mattheo cut Theo off, clearly having had enough of the annual rehashing of ‘that one Christmas when Theo was eight’ for today, and changing the subject, “Who’s got their dates sorted for the Malfoy Christmas Eve Ball, and who’s daring to go solo and have Narcissa set them up like a matchmaker all night long?”

Chuckles rang out among the group, and Pansy smiled, leaning into Blaise’s side with a love-struck grin. “I think we’re safe this year.”

“I’m going solo, but, I did tell Aunty Cissa that I have my eye on a girl in one of my classes, and I’m seeing how it plays out. So, she’s not setting me up anytime soon, since she believes I’m already onto someone.” Enzo smirked, and Blaise congratulated him for his clever tactics. 

You smirked through your mouthful of food, listening to Mattheo explain his complex excuse, to Reggie mournfully spill the story of how he’s already been set up by his parents witha ‘potential bride to meet’, and how he hopes she doesn’t show up. You laugh with the others as Tom simply raises an eyebrow, knowing that even Narcissa doesn’t attempt to set him up anymore, lest he scare away any more of her friends’ daughters. Theo, ever the player he is, is looking forward to dancing with every single lady he can find, and taking his pick at the end of the night.

“I suppose nobody needs to ask Draco who his date will be.” Mattheo grins, wiggling his brows at the pair of you as you smile, leaning a little further into the man at your side. 

“Hey, who knows?” He chortles, and your eyes narrow a little, “I’ve had plenty of offers. I haven’t made up my mind yet.”

“Oooh.” Enzo’s eyes went wide, the other boys joining in, and Pansy fixed him with a glare. Daphne leaned around you with her jaw dropped at his statement, and you sat up from his embrace, lips pressed flat and a brow raised. 

The boys snickered, ‘he’s in shit’ and ‘someone’s in the doghouse’, but he lived for the spotlight, a drama queen at heart, and he smirked down at you. 

“Oh, c’mon. Don’t look at me like that, babe.” The playful nickname was one he only ever used when joking around. When he was sincere, he was much more romantic; darling, sweetheart, beautiful. “What am I supposed to say? ‘Hi mum, hello father, meet the girl I’m skipping class to shag! Thanks for paying my tuition!’, I don’t think so.”

The boys all laughed, Daphne scoffed in sync with her sister behind you, and Pansy looked like she’d lunge across the table at any moment, if it wasn’t for her chastising Blaise for laughing, instead. ‘You and Draco can share that couch you’ll both be sleeping on tonight’, she’d said. ‘See how funny you think it is then’.

The words stung as he spoke them, dismantling your relationship down to the bare minimum; to sex and physical connection and nothing else. Like the nights spent talking until the sun came up were nothing, the times you’d held him while he cried, or washed him in the bath when he was so exhausted he could barely keep his eyes open. Like he didn’t rub your stomach for hours every month when you got cramps, or had a stash of your favourite snacks in his bedside table for whenever you came over. 

You knew that Draco Malfoy lived you, just as much as you loved him. It was evident in everything he did, every kiss and every word. But, he needed a little push.

“I suppose you’re right,” You sigh lightly, giggling along with the laughing boys around the table. “I’m not so sure Lucius wouldn't burst a blood vessel then and there.”

“Exactly.” Draco hummed, and you glanced back to Pansy. She was shocked, only for a second, before taking in the subtle signs of mischief on your face. Her own smirk stretched out in return, and her gaze flickered once to Draco, before back to you. 

A new game was afoot, and Draco wasn’t going to stand a chance.

Slipping your coat from your shoulders, the annual Malfoy Christmas Eve Ball was well underway. Your parents had disappeared into the crowds before you’d even stepped out of the carriage, uncaring of where you were as long as you weren’t causing trouble. They were here to mingle with the other importants, and you were just here to learn the ropes of proper socialising.

The garment was taken from you, your small bag clutched in hand as a ticket was given to you for it, and you brushed down the front of your dress delicately. Pearls moved under your touch, beading along the bodice flat and perfected, and you felt your confidence rise as you looked at yourself once more in the reflection of a dark window. Adjusting the small lace gloves on each hand, you took a step towards the dining room. 

Elegant music was playing from a live band up on a stage, the room was decorated this year to look like a winter escape. Pale and frosty, like a palace of ice, twinkling lights and glittering decor, crisp white tablecloths and ice sculptures. A layer of goosebumps travelled along your skin at the sight of it all, despite the warming charms that took place for the guests. 

Scanning the room, you quickly found your table. The designated kids table, despite you all being legal adults and far beyond such status. You’d all be the babies of the ball until the new generation emerged, no doubt. Moving through the bodies and crowds of people politely, Theo was the first to glance up and spot you, his mouth falling open, and a rush of confidence took over as he raised two fingers to his lips and whistled. 

The sound caught the attention of the others’ chatter fading to quiet as they all turned to look for the object of his cat-calling, Enzo’s eyes widened, Pansy cheered loudly, and even Mattheo looked momentarily speechless. You’d had the same reaction when you’d seen yourself in the dress too, your stylist had truly outdone herself for this one. 

You looked flawless, and you looked expensive, and utterly elegant. Doing a little spin as you approached, a smile broke free on your lips as you stopped before the chair with your name card before it. 

“Merlin, babe,” Pansy started, drawing your attention straight her her, “You’ve got every eye on you tonight. If I was single, I’d be all over you.” 

She winked when you laughed, and Blaise rolled his eyes but smiled, leaning in to kiss her cheek affectionately. 

“Pretty necklace,” She commented, and your fingers rose to the pretty string of pearls and diamonds that you had. 

“It was a gift,” You simply hummed, tugging at your gloves. Glancing at the others, you gave each a polite smile, eyes lingering on Draco as he stared. In any other style, this dress would be scandalous for an event like this. A low neckline, spaghetti straps, no sleeves. Tight and fitted to every curve of your body, and yet the classic designs and vintage nature elevated it to the kind of class Audrey Hepburn would be proud of. 

He looked just as good, a dark suit, a fresh white shirt, a champagne-coloured tie that made the colour of his eyes and his hair stand out and your mouth dried out a little. Silver rings adorned his fingers, the Malfoy signet standing out, clenched so tightly around his whiskey glass that his knuckles were almost white. 

You’d worn soft, golden makeup effects today, a dusting of glitter along your cheekbones and eyelids, a shade of pink on your cheeks and lips that you knew was his weakness. 

“Someone really wanted your attention with that, huh?” Your best friend teased, and your eyes snapped away from Draco, back to her. 

“I suppose so,” You muse, hand coming up to touch one of the beads on your ear, “Since they also got me this lovely pair of matching earrings.”

Pansy made a dramatic show of admiring them, and Blaise gave a funny look, glancing at the jewellery, and then back at Draco, who was frowning. Before you could reach for your chair after placing your clutch down, Enzo was shooting to his feet from beside you, tugging out the chair for you. 

Draco scoffed as you gave him a thank you, settling into your seat, and he glared at the man beside you. Enzo didn’t flinch, however, smirking at Draco as he spoke;

“What? It’s called being a gentleman, cousin.”

Crossing your leg delicately, you’d hardly even removed your gloves, before a tray was coming down by your side, and a young waiter with a dazzling smile was looking right at you. 

“Champagne, ma’am?” Not a planned pawn in your game, but a welcome addition, you smiled sweetly in return. 

“Oh, I’d love some. Thank you.” Taking the single glass by the stem, you lifted it from the tray and the man’s smile stretched wider as you sipped the bubbly, holding his eye. 

“Of course, miss. If you need anything, anything at all, I’ll be at the bar, happy to serve.” His flirting was heavy enough that normally you’d want to roll your eyes, but tonight, you suppressed that urge, playing into it as you bat your lashes. 

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind. Thank you.”

He took the dismissal, staring appreciatively as he walked away, another look over his shoulder to you as you watched him go. 

“Stop eye-fucking the help.” Draco snapped, and your focus moved to him slowly, just to find his icy glare on you. He didn’t scare you, though, all that mean bravado, but you knew what was underneath. 

“I was doing no such thing.” You tut, placing down your drink. “Don’t be jealous, Dray. You look even better in that suit. If you want compliments, just ask. No need to be mean.”

He seemed rather placated by this, his ego settling down, even if the others did laugh at him.

The conversation seemed to continue around you as you settled in, avoiding Draco’s heated stare and sipping at your champagne. The rush of warming alcohol through your veins settled every dancing nerve, and gave you the calm confidence to do what you had planned. Sitting forwards, just enough, you angled your body so that Draco might have the perfect view over your cleavage as you feigned interest in the chatter around you. 

He took the bait, his gaze falling right where you wanted it, the gems of your necklace dangling just over the swell of your breasts, and he licked his lower lip, pulling it between his teeth.

Raising your hands and catching the swinging gem, you toyed with it carefully, letting it run over your fingers. Time melted away as Draco’s gaze flicked between your nimble touch, your lips, and your chest, shuffling in his seat every so often, and gulping at the bubbly in his glass. 

He was on his third refill by the time food started to be taken around, and you took pity on him momentarily, sitting back in your chair and angling away from him, ready to receive your first course. 

As the starters came around, you turned to thank your waiter, surprised to see it was the same man from the bar who had brought you your champagne. You’d given him little thought since he’d walked away, and you’d never spotted him again, but perhaps that was exactly why he was delivering your food now, as he beamed at you and set down the plate. 

Men did love a little attention, after all. 

Reaching for the bottle of champagne cooling in the centre of the table, the waiter never looked away from you as he refilled your glass without being asked. Draco finally seemed to notice as he finished adjusting his napkin, gaze narrowing on the man serving you. “You’ve got to be kidding me…” He muttered.

You pretended to take no notice, smiling at the man and waving your fingers flirtily as he walked away.

“I’m going to get another drink at the bar,” He announced, leaving without his glass and without asking if anyone else wanted one. You knew where he was truly going, if the lock of his jaw and the stamp in his step were any indication. You doubted you’d be seeing that waiter again.

As you poked at your food, Pansy excused herself too, only a few bites into her meal before she disappeared with a wicked grin and no explanation to anyone. Enzo just chuckled beside you, glancing around the room like he was watching all the cogs of a machine in motion, before turning his gaze on you. “You do look lovely tonight, do you know that?”

“Of course I do. I spent days on end trying on dress after dress to find this.” You sighed, admiring the gorgeous piece of art on your body as you set your cutlery down. 

“And is it serving the purpose you need it to?” He teased, voice knowing, and you nodded. Flicking your gaze over the patrons and guests in the room, you searched for Draco, finding him talking politely to one of his mother’s friends at the bar. 

“It is, I think.”

“Let’s hope it stays that way.” He whispered, your focus still on the man who truly held your heart, who was making his polite excuse and walking way, back towards you all. His gaze locked on yours, only for a second, before Pansy was calling your name and drawing your focus elsewhere. 

When you looked up to her, she was grinning, a man by her side. “This is Elliot, he’s been wanting to meet you for some time. I promised him I’d introduce you both tonight.”

You offered the best smile you could as his cheeks reddened, and Pansy merely patted him on the shoulder, slinking away as you offered your hand to him. “Lovely to meet you, Elliot.”

“You too. As embarrassing as that introduction was, it’s true. I have wanted to meet you for some time.” He had a kind smile and pretty eyes, and he seemed far too nice to be dragged into your game tonight, but he seemed almost like a willing participant, and you weren’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. As Draco took his seat, Elliot continued, “Pansy has told me so much about you. You know, if you’re free one day before you go back to that fancy boarding school of yours, I’d love to take you out.”

“Yeah? What have you got in mind?” You smile, twisting a little more to face him, and your encouragement only brightens his expression as Draco’s darkens in your peripheral.

“A night in London, perhaps. We could get dinner, and see the opera?”

“She doesn’t like the opera.” Draco sneered, openly staring at Elliot with enough contempt to scare away lesser men. Elliot tugged at his collar, glancing at Draco, and then back to you as you tried to hide your shock at his behaviour.

“The theatre, then?”

Draco looked ready to snap again, and before he could, you nodded, sparing your unwilling partner. “That sounds wonderful, I’ll see what my schedule says. I’ll get in touch with you through Pansy if I can find the time, is that okay?”

“Perfect.” He smiled, sneaking another wary glance at Draco who was not backing down from glaring at him unflinchingly, but Elliot shook it off, bravely. “It was a pleasure to meet you, truly.”

“And you, Elliot.”

Soon after he left, the plates were being cleared. You tried not to smirk as a different waiter, and one who very pointedly did not so much as even catch your gaze, cleared your dishes away at record speed. 

You knew that Draco had something, everything, to do with that. He was jealous by nature, a spoilt single child who did not like to share his favourite toys, and that is exactly what you were betting on tonight.

You stood, taking a lap around the room with Pansy to settle your food before the next course, and to get another drink. She took the opportunity to fill you in on how her first Christmas event with Blaise’s family had gone, and when you returned, you made sure to surreptitiously place yourself behind Draco’s chair. 

You placed a hand on his shoulder, a friendly gesture, squeezing and rubbing enough that your thumb swept over his collar and across his neck. His pulse jumped under your touch, and he tipped his head closer, into your touch. 

As he did so, your heart leapt in your chest. To others, it might look like a friendly gesture but to you, it meant so much more. You were tempted to cave then and there, to live with this being enough, to settle, but you couldn't. You didn’t want this to be it, you wanted to follow this by leaning down to kiss him, to have him smile against your lips in public the way he did when you were alone. 

To arrive at these events together, arms linked, and to stumble out tiredly together too. To sit by him, his hand on your thigh, to rest your head on his shoulder, to kiss him on the dance floor. The thought was enough to push you through. 

He twisted his head, to kiss your hand like he often did when you did this. Carefully, you slipped your hand away just in time, knuckles brushing across the nape of his neck as you stepped away, and back to your seat. 

His sights moved to you, but like a saving grace, the servers began to appear with more dishes, and dinner soon distracted you all. A delicious serving of salmon and potatoes, and the hall fell quiet enough for you to hear the beautiful music playing when chatter fell low. 

Low conversation, drinks refilled, and that perfect mood set across the room, as people took to the tables and quieted down. Your favourite part of the night, usually. Good food, your friends, and a chance to catch up without the usual weight of it all sitting on you. Regulus was talking, telling the rare story that had him caught up in a long conversation where he usually just observed quietly, but your attention was fixed on your lover. 

Until, Theo spoke up. 

“Oh, merda,” He muttered across Reggie’s’ story, his gaze cutting to you alarmingly quickly. “I forgot to tell you.”

“Tell me what?” Your heart skipped a beat, a flash of panic.

“My cousin flew in last minute for the party, and he wants to speak to you.” Theo’s words soothed your panic, and you offered him a flat look for the dramatic way he’d put it. Taking a sip from your glass, you raised a brow.

“When?”

“Now.” He confirmed, sights lifting to sit just behind you, and before you could even turn, a chair was being pulled up beside your own from another table. Turning your head to the owner, a smile burst across your face at the man sitting before you. 

“Dario!” Your arms were around his neck before you could stop yourself, and he was chuckling as he bundled you into an equally enthusiastic hug. He chuckled lightly, pulling back only far enough to press a friendly kiss to your cheek, and you cupped his face as you parted from him. “You’re growing a beard!”

“My mother hates it.” He chuckled, rubbing a hand over it. As you twisted a little more towards him, he reached down, practically manhandling you as he reached for the edge of your seat by your legs, tugging it sideways to face him. You squealed as the chair jolted, screeching on the floor, tugging you closer as he leaned in. “Sei incantevole.”

“Are you charming me in Italian?” You smirk, a boyish smile on his face as he lounged back in his seat. “What are you doing here, anyway? Theo said none of you were flying in this year! I thought you couldn't make it.”

“I couldn't,” He sighed, shrugging, “But, then I heard that you would be here, without a date, and I knew I just had to make it. So, here I am, la mia bella donna. You think a short flight from Italy would stop me rushing over here to you?”

Your giggle was against your control. Even if he was more like family than a romantic interest, the way his accent twisted around coyly spoken words, was enough to bring a blush to even the most unreceptive woman’s face. “Cut it out, you flirt.”

“You’ll save me a dance later, right?”

“We’ll see.” He rose his brow, and you lifted your glass, taking a sip of bubbly to hide your smile, leaving him hanging. “Depends on how much more of your cheesy flirting I can endure.”

“You mean my wonderful Italian charm?” He teased, pinching one of your cheeks, and deepening the flush he had already created. “Don’t think I don’t see the way I make you blush.

You could only scoff, mouth dry as you tried to think of a retort, and you didn’t miss Theo muttering in Italian behind you, curse words you’d picked up on tumbling from his mouth. 

“Perhaps this can convince you,” Dario reaches for his inner pocket, producing a small, slim box. An excited squeak breaks from you as he hands it over, your fingers brushing the elegant leather, an Italian name embossed across the front. “Open it later, alright?”

You could only nod, admiring it happily, before slipping the box safely inside of your clutch. He took your hand, kissing your knuckles as he stood. A final wink as he offered you hid charming goodbyes, and a farewell to the rest of the table, before returning his borrowed chair to where he had taken it from. 

You watched as your friend left, disappearing into the crowd, no doubt to mingle and socialise as he had always been so good at, before you swung back around in your chair. 

“He taught you everything you know, huh, Nott?”

Theo only shrugged, a cheeky grin on his face. “What can I say, tesoro? We Nott men just have charm. We’ll woo your panties right off.” He winked, the cockiness not lasting long as Draco swung at him, a fist landing roughly on his arm as the Malfoy heir scowled, glaring at his best friend. 

“Cut it out.” He growled the words through gritted teeth, and your hand shot up, rubbing at your lip to hide your grin as Draco made no effort to hide his own emotions. Theo only laughed, rubbing at the patch on his arm he’d taken the hit.

Dessert was served, a beautiful display of ice cream and winter berries that almost looked too good to eat. The key word being almost. You hadn't been able to resist, however, and the first small groan you’d let out as the sugar hit your tongue had Draco’s gaze snapping straight to you. I did not leave, once, after. 

Instead, he watched, through a dark gaze, every curl of your lips around the spoon, every swipe of your tongue to catch the juice of burst berries. If you’d put on a little extra show, just for him, nobody else had to know. 

It was like he was staring right into your soul, so intense, even after the meal was long since finished. Finally, you indulged him once again, turning to look at him and raising a brow. “Yes, Draco?”

“You look beautiful tonight, I am simply admiring.” He let his gaze move across you slowly, making his admiration apparent, and his gaze lingered a fraction of a second longer on your neck. He stared at you with open adoration, the kind of look that told you exactly how he felt, even if he was fighting it, but he was close to breaking. He was close to losing this game he didn’t know he was playing. Then, his gaze flickered over your shoulder, sweet observation morphing. His brows drew together, his open hand slamming down on the table hard enough to make the glass rattle. “Oh, fucking hell…”

Mattheo erupted with sudden laughter, loud and brash, and there was a tap on your shoulder before you could even ask him what had him in such hysterics. A young man you did not know, perhaps a few years younger than you, and glanced around the table to see which of your friends had put this one together. Each seemed to have caught on in their own time, and had a hand in adding to the fun, to watch Draco suffer more, but none of them were laying any claim to this one. 

“I’ve been watching you all evening, and you are beautiful.” He smiled, stuttering over his words slightly, and Draco made no shy show of his disdain, rolling his eyes and making a disapproving sound. “I was wondering if you might grant me the pleasure of a dance?”

“She would dance with you,” Enzo interrupted, before you could speak at all, leaning forward toward the edge of your chair from his own, and you could have kissed him in gratitude for saving you. “But, she promised me her first dance. Isn’t that right, love? And I think now is the perfect time. Let’s go.”

Offering you his hand, you took it, letting him sweep you away without a second’s delay, navigating you both to the dance floor and twirling you expertly into his arms. One hand clasped your own, the other sitting at a respectable place on your waist, your own on his shoulder, and he fell into the well-rehearsed steps of a classical ballroom dance he’d been doing since he could walk. 

You let out a shaky sigh, relief flooding your veins as you looked back to your seat, noticing that the boy had taken Enzo’s rejection well and disappeared, not hanging around and waiting for your return. 

“You’re killing him slowly, like a predator playing with its prey,” Enzo smirked, neither of you needing to clarify who you were talking about, as he brought up his cousin. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Really?” He chuckled, spinning you out before pulling you back in, sharp actions that made you dizzy with their accuracy, and you grinned as he brought you tumbling right back into his arms, perfectly. If he’d been trying to win you over, his dancing alone would’ve had you swooning. “You just show up to a fancy event like this, dripping in diamonds and pearls and looking like a million bucks, supposedly single. You mean to tell me you didn’t know that all these rich London boys wouldn't descend on you like vultures?”

“Not my fault I’m single and hot, Enz.”

He just laughed, dipping you a little. “We do struggle, don’t we.” You wove between people, a happy silence falling between you both once again as he guided you over the floor, back and forth, “Are you, though? Single, I mean.”

“That is up to your cousin.”

“Touché.”

You continued to move, until your feet were sore from all the twirling, clinging to Enzo in fits of giggles as he spun and twirled and dipped you more, hands on your waist as he lifted you through the air, making a show of his dancing. 

He may have seemed altruistic in his gestures, sweeping in to save you and Draco from your dance with the boy, but he was using you too. Enzo was taking every opportunity to show off his moves to every lady around the room watching, a flirty smile on his face between conversations and he glanced around, and you wouldn't be surprised if he received more offers than Theo or Dario by the end of the night. 

As the third song came to an end, and the music fell for just a second, you panted slightly, arm around his neck now, looking up at him with flushed cheeks and a bright smile. “Can we take a break?”

“Tired, already? You only gave me three so far.” He smirked at the way your jaw dropped, your face going hot and you knew your cheeks were red. You untangled yourself from his body, barely making it a step away from his laughter before he wrapped an arm around your waist, tugging you into his side. “Oh, c’mon. I thought the aim was to flirt and make him mad?”

“He’s not even here to listen!”

“I’m practising,” Enzo murmured, steering you towards the bar, and leaning on the wood as he flagged down the bartender. You were quickly served, by a woman who fawned over Enzo as she passed by, and you had to snap your fingers in front of his face to snap his gaze away from her retreating form. “So, how long are you going to make him—”

A tap on Enzo’s shoulder cut him off, and he turned to look, straightening up instantly from his slumped position. As soon as he moved so you could see, your relaxation melted away too, as you found yourself face to face with Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy. 

“Lorenzo, I’ve hardly had a chance to talk to you all evening. I want to ask you about your schoolwork.” The impressively formal and deep voice of Lucius Malfoy settled over your skin like fresh snow, cold but smooth, and you shuddered. 

Narcissa only chuckled lightly at her husband’s words, her eyes on you. “You’ve been busy, though. Who is your lovely lady?”

“Uncle Lucius, Aunt Cissa. This is my friend, (Y/n).”

It wasn’t exactly the circumstances you’d wanted to meet them under, but you smiled nonetheless, nerves running wild as you offered your hand to them both, shaking politely just as your parents had taught you. 

“Ah, (Y/n). Yes. I make a point of knowing all of Draco’s school friends, but I’m in business with your father, aren’t I?” Something like a small kernel of sweetness was buried in that statement, his interest in his son’s life, even if he tried to hide it behind formalities, but it wasn’t your place to comment. 

“Yes, sir. That is correct.”

“They’re very proud of your schoolwork. They were telling me about your latest project. You synthesised a new potion to grow murkweed faster, is that true?”

You were surprised he knew so much, your small project submitted for Herbology was the last thing you’d expected Lucius Malfoy to know of, or take an interest in, and your mouth felt like sandpaper as you tried to form words. “Yes. Yes, sir. That’s right.”

“Interesting.” That calculating gaze scanned over you, analysing you from head to toe, like he could see right through you with a single glance. “That is impressive, for someone of your age. I’d be open to learning more. Are you considering making a future out of your alchemy talents? I have connections that I could contact for you.” 

You were speechless, your stomach going wild with butterflies born of both excitement and anxiety. He smirked, a look that would set you on edge if you weren’t sure deep down that this was in your interests, not against them. 

“Perhaps we can discuss it more soon, when we next see you. With Enzo?”

Enzo’s arm around your waist shifted, a reassuring weight that you were sure had been your only grounding presence for this surreal conversation. He patted your hip encouragingly. “Oh, no, we aren’t…” 

Motioning between you both, Lucius’ brows furrowed, and Narcissa tried to hide her sigh.

“Sorry to disappoint you, Aunt Cissa. (Y/n) isn’t mine, though it is wonderful that you approve.” Before either could question him, or expand on their confusion, Enzo gave your waist a final rub, before removing his touch from you entirely, and stepping towards his family. “Shall we go and discuss schoolwork then, Uncle? You have questions, and I have answers. I hope the ones you want.”

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss (Y/l/n).” Lucius politely offered you his hand again, shaking it firmly, and that was about as friendly a dismissal as you’d ever get from him, you’d heard. This was only supported by the surprised look on Narcissa’s face, and the beam Enz gave you as he guided his uncle away. 

“I hope to see you again soon, (Y/n). You look wonderful this evening, thank you for coming.” Narcissa murmured, before following her husband and nephew, glancing back at you only once over her shoulder. She knew. The woman was far more cunning than she let on, the true embodiment of a sneaky Slytherin, observing quietly and taking everything in. Her eyes glinted. She knew you knew she knew, too.

Your heart was pounding, cheeks warm as you lifted your fingers to them cautiously. The disappointed waitress placed down two drinks before you, Enzo long gone without his, but you smiled at her with appreciation, fingers shaking a little as you lifted the glass to your lips to take a sip. 

You’d spoken to Draco’s parents. 

They’d liked you. Lucius had offered to put you onto the career path, and Narcissa had complimented your dress. A soft laugh of disbelief slipped free, your eyes sliding closed for just a second as you revelled in the moment. 

It hasn’t been what you’d set out for tonight, but it was far more than what you’d hoped for. Opening your eyes again, to head back to the table and find Draco, you were met by the sight of a stranger leaning before you on the bar, grinning down at you in amusement. “Hello.”

“Hi.” You gave a terse smile, and a single nod. “If you’ll excuse me—”

“I didn’t even get to ask you to dance yet. Saw you out on the floor with the Berkshire boy, earlier, and I thought—”

“I’m dancing with her next, mate. Piss off.” 

Draco rarely sounded that mad, a chill went down your spine as you felt an arm slide around your waist, tugging you back into his chest. “Dray…”

The stranger only scoffed, glaring at Draco as he wandered away, and your hand reached for his forearm on your body. He snatched it away too soon, however, tugging on your hip to turn you around. His jaw was clenched tight, eyes more frozen than the coldest glacier. “Dance with me.”

Not a request, and he didn’t wait for an answer, before plucking your drink from your hand and slamming it down onto the bar, guiding you back to the swaying bodies. Standing before you, you offered him your hand, your hand sitting lightly on his shoulder. He didn’t take the respectable route, instead, his arm wrapped tight around your waist, sweeping you close to his body, and beginning to move you both in simple steps. 

It was several minutes before he relaxed, your arm sliding further around his neck in a more intimate hold, bringing the two of you much closer, swaying slowly. The tension in his body gave way with every step, and with a resigned sigh, he finally spoke, “You met my parents.”

“I did. They were lovely. Very curious about Enzo and I’s relationship.”

His hand clenched on your waist, and you tipped your head at him as his piercing gaze drilled into you. One more move…

“Oh, don’t be so mad, Dray. We’re only shagging, after all. You’ll find a new girl if I get swept away by someone else.”

His eyes narrowed, jaw clenching, and a fire burned in those silver eyes now, melting the ice away with rage. Checkmate.

“You win, alright? I’m not playing this stupid game any longer.” He took a deep breath, and another, fingers twitching on your back as jealousy bubbled under the surface. “For fucks sake, how many pieces of jewellery from other guys are you wearing? Who bought you those earrings, that necklace? I should be the only one buying you gifts. I should be the one spoiling you. You want the Malfoy family ring? I’ll go yank it off my mother’s engagement ring from her finger right now, just take all this off.”

He studied you for a second, confusion growing at the smirk that grew on your lips. Victory was yours, and you leaned in, pressing a delicate kiss to his cheek. Letting the hand from his neck smooth down his chest, his gaze stayed locked on the jewels around your neck, glaring angrily. “No.”

“No?”

“No. It’s pretty. I’m going to keep wearing it all, let it remind you what you have. Next time you piss me off, forget a date, or use the last of my shampoo, I’m going to put it all back on so you can remember how many guys would jump at the chance.” His nostrils flared, but he stayed silent, wisely knowing when to keep his mouth shut. “I don’t want your family ring, Malfoy. Not yet. I just want a proper title, and the respect that comes with it. I’m not your booty call, or your side piece. You don’t want to play games anymore? Then don’t.”

“You already won.” He whispers, his head dropping down to let his forehead rest on your own. “You know how much you mean to me.”

“Yes, I do. But I want the whole world to know it, too, Dray.”

He didn’t respond verbally. Instead, he twisted his head, enough to press his mouth to your own, silencing any more arguments between you both as he kissed you. His lips claimed yours, a tender and loving kiss, showing everyone just how much you meant to him. There was no mistaking the emotions within it, not as his arms wrapped around your body, holding you to him as the pretence of dancing was given up, your hand on the back of his head, fingers in his hair, meeting every push and pull.

When he pulled away, your smile took over, bashful now under his openly adoring gaze, and he stole several more pecks from your lips. A happy sound escaped you as he tugged you in, tucking his face into your neck, and swaying you both to the music. 

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”

“You have, but I’d be open to hearing it again.” Your hand smoothed over his hair, and he chuckled against your skin, leaving a kiss on the crook of your neck before raising to meet your eye. 

“You are breathtaking, darling. I’m in awe. This colour is my favourite, you know.”

“Why do you think I wore it?”

His fingers trailed down your spine, eyes sparkling even more at that revelation. “How about we get out of here? We’ll make our goodbyes to my parents, and head out.”

“Our goodbyes?” You repeated as he took your hand, lacing your fingers together. 

“Yes. From their son and his girlfriend. I think you deserve a proper introduction, after all.”

Tugging you across the floor, he gave you no time to prepare, and certainly, none to disagree, as you smoothed your hair and attempted to control the blush he’d brought to your cheeks. Through the crowds he wove, until he was pulling to a stop just shy of his parents, and Enzo looked as though he could have cried with relief when Lucius’ intense focus was taken away from him. The boy quickly slipped away as both of Draco’s parents turned to face you. 

“Miss (Y/l/n), when we said we hoped to see you again soon, I didn’t realise you’d take it quite this literally.” He murmured, voice as low and calm as always, and your lips parted, a different kind of heat flooding your features. 

“Oh, behave now, Lucius,” Narcissa grinned, her gaze dropping to your clasped hands, before she reached up to her son’s face, pinching his cheek with a smile. “Draco, darling, I’ve hardly seen you all evening.”

“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you Mother, but we’ll be leaving early.” She only gave him a knowing look, ignoring Lucius’ displeased huff, as if she wasn’t surprised at all. 

“‘We’?”

“My girlfriend and I.” He said, proud and strong, before tugging you forward a little more to stand in front of him. His hand left your own, circling your waist instead, and she offered him a smile at the news. 

“I see.” She smiled, patting her son’s cheek affectionately, before turning that knowing gaze on you. “Now Lorenzo’s evasiveness whenever I asked him about you makes sense.”

“You asked about me?” Your words were a rushed squeak, which only seemed to amuse Narcissa more. 

“Of course, dear. I wanted to know more about you. I’d ask you to sit and chat with me for a spell, but I believe my son might combust if I did.”

“Mother!” He gasped, and Lucius only tutted. 

“Draco.” His father growled softly, shaking his head, and the red on his son’s cheeks only grew.

“You both may go, for now. But I hope you’ll visit me soon, and we might talk?”

“You mean… just us?” Your words tapered off to a near whisper, and Lucius smirked to himself as Draco rolled his eyes. 

“Yes, dear. We’ll have tea.”

You could only nod, bidding your final farewells to them both in a state of awe, before Draco was hurrying you along. Tight hands gripping your waist, lips on your neck as he loved you through the crowds, swiping up your bag and giving you barely a moment to say goodbye to your friends before sweeping you away again. It was only due to the snow falling outside, you were sure, that he allowed you to stop long enough to get your coats. 

Helping you, he lifted the garment onto you from behind, kissing your cheek as he reached around your body to fasten it. His elegant coat was already on, and leather gloves were on his hands as he offered you one. Lacing your fingers through his own, he smiled, tugging you out into the freezing night, and ushering you around the side of the Manor, away from the stream of cars lined up for guests as they left. 

“Where are we going, Dray?” 

“To one of the gardens near the path.” He never turned back, leading you carefully around patches of ice and slippery snow as you moved, the light from the house fading. It was almost pitch black, before he mumbled a small spell, and the garden lights glowed to light, glittering on the fresh blanket of ice. 

Sitting on the grass was an old-fashioned sleigh, enchanted to keep dry, even in the snow, and two reindeer sat happily in the snow snuffling at the grass and scattered food. 

The landscape stretched out far before you both, trees and grass and walls all covered in snow like something from a Christmas card, and the sigh that left your lips clouded in the air before your face. 

“Oh, Draco…” Taking a few steps closer, snow-tipped over the tops of your heels as you stepped off the pathway onto the grass, chilling your feet for only a second, before Draco was following. Scooping you up into his arms, you kicked the ice from your feet with a giggle, your arms looping around his neck. “What’s all this?”

“This is your Christmas present. I didn’t realise that was the kind of ice you wanted instead.” He muttered, eyes flicking down to your neck, as he carried you carefully through the snow and towards the ornate sleigh. As you leaned in to kiss his cheek, he smiled shyly, avoiding your gaze as he became embarrassed, “I wanted to do something romantic for you. We can take the sleigh back to the town, get a cab, and take the jet anywhere you want to go. Pansy already packed a bag for you.”

He placed you down on the edge of the sleigh, letting you shuffle across onto the warmed leather. With another kiss to your lips, he scoffed at your smile. 

“Merry Christmas, my wicked little girlfriend.”

“I can’t believe you arranged all this.” You were practically bouncing in your seat, watching as Draco nervously tugged on the reins, prompting the lazy animals to stand back up, before settling into the sleigh himself. Like they knew just what to do, they took off in a slow trot, tugging the pair of you along through the snow. 

“Maybe if you’d have waited, instead of making me fight for my life tonight, you’d have been surprised.”

His arm was splayed along the back of the seat, and you snuggled in a little closer to him. Curling his arm around you, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, shaking his head and burying his nose in your hair. “If I didn’t make you fight for me, Dray, you’d probably have introduced me to your mother as your study partner. I gave you a little push, that’s all.”

“Is that so?” He muttered, guiding your face up so he could peck your lips. “Who do you think helped me arrange all of this for my ‘lovely lady friend’, hm? I’ve been writing to my mother about having an interest in someone for months now. You underestimate me.”

“You never gave me any other indication!” 

“Oh, please. You walk me like a damn dog, you knew how I felt.” His mouth closed over your own, stealing a kiss, and you couldn't help but smile into it. “I think tonight just proves it.”

The sleigh trotted on as Draco kissed you in the back, beyond thought and reason, your hands tucked into his coat for warmth as he kept you cuddled in close to his side. 

Minutes melted away, the two of you lost in your own world as you jostled and trotted through the fields, back toward the town. Whatever he had planned, it had been in motion for days, and the thought only made you fall a little more in love with him. Perhaps you had underestimated him, but none of it mattered now, not when he was kissing you like you were his only way to breathe, and you had him in your arms, properly, at last.

“So, Pansy knew about your little plan?”

“Yes. I told her days ago.” 

“Hm…” You loved her, and it was perhaps her knowledge of Draco’s actions that made this all the funnier. “So, she knew about your plan, and mine. And still, she made sure to introduce guys to me all night. She played us both just for her own amusement.”

As you thought of her, your fingers lifted to your neck, sitting on the delicate jewellery there, and Draco huffed. Looping his finger underneath it, he tugged lightly. “Can you take this off now, please?”

“Why would I do that?” His pout deepened, glaring at the offending item, and you gave in with an airy laugh. “Pansy, Daph and Tori picked it out personally.”

“What?” His head snapped up, pout gone as his jaw dropped, and he was not laughing like you were. “You let me believe another guy decked you out in diamonds all night! What about the matching earrings?”

“Blaise.”

“The bracelet?”

“Theo and the Notts.” 

At that mention, his eyes narrowed again, searching for your clutch and finding it resting in your lap. “But Theo’s cousin Mario gave you a separate gift.”

“Dario.” You corrected, and he mimicked it childishly, scoffing afterwards. “Well, that part was real. He truly was flirting, and I have no idea what it is, I haven’t opened it yet.”

“Give it to me.” He reached for your bag, a second too slow as you swiped it away from him with a gasp. He didn’t give up, still trying to snatch it as he leaned over you, pressing you back into the seat through fits of laughter, the two of you fighting over the bag until it was pressed to your chest, your eyes wide as you stared up at him, shaking your head. “Give it to me! I’m chucking it, hand it over!”

“No, it’s mine!” He slumped back into his seat, panting for breath and smoothing his hair back down. He was pointedly staring away in the opposite direction, and when you leaned in closer with a chuckle, he leaned away. Grabbing his shoulder, you planted yourself firmly in his lap, kissing the underside of his jaw. “I’m keeping it, but your present is better, I just know it. Whatever it is, could never beat this.”

“Promise?”

“I promise, Dray.” 

He gave in, wrapping his arms around your waist, tugging you in closer to his body and pressing a happy kiss to your cheek. “Fine, but I’m buying you a new necklace when we get off the damn plane. I don’t care who bought that one.”

[afterglowkatie]

restless | a.p.

alexia putellas x reader | 1.1k | 'being with you feels like coming home'

ˏˋ°•*⁀ i hope y'all like it!

❆♡────୨ holiday season blurb event ৎ────♡❆

The flight back to Barcelona wasn’t overly long but it was long enough for you to get bored. You’d exhausted all of your items to keep you entertained on the flight and it had only been just over an hour, meaning you still had several more left to go. You had puzzle books, colouring books, music downloaded on your phone and even tried to watch a movie. Though, even after days of training and having just played a full match, you were still restless. 

Leaning back you closed your eyes hoping that maybe if you kept them closed long enough then you would just fall asleep. But the longer you laid there like that the more you only thought about trying to fall asleep and in turn made it impossible to fall asleep. To make things worse for you, you weren’t even seated near Alexia. A few times on the plane back from anywhere if you were seated next to Alexia you’d make her watch whatever movie you wanted. 

Not that she ever minded, she found more entertainment from watching you try to match up the playing time on both of your screens so it felt like you were actually watching it together. Growing frustrated when it wouldn’t match up until Alexia offers for you to just sit on her lap and watch the movie from the one screen, actually together instead of just pretending.

 ‘Well this is boring,’ You muttered to yourself, tapping your thigh and looking around. Poking your head out from where you were sitting you watched what your teammates were doing. Some sleeping, some watching movies, reading, but none were as restless as you seemed to be. Huffing, you leaned back in your seat once more. 

That was until you were yet again up and out of your seat. Playing it off like you just needed to stretch and that you weren’t really just trying to see where Alexia said her seat was. The plane wasn’t even big but Alexia always said your sense of direction was concerning and you could get lost anywhere, even on this plane.

Walking slowly so you could keep quiet and not disturb any of your teammates who were sleeping, you made your way down the aisle. Eyes lighting up the instant you spotted Alexia. Small smile on your face when you noticed she was asleep. Phone resting on her lap, earphones in and your hoodie on. 

She looked cosy, cute and peaceful. Peaceful enough that you felt bad about wanting to wake her up, but you wanted to be cosy with her. Plus she didn’t play the full match and there was plenty of sleep later once you’d gotten home. Crouching beside her seat once you’d decided that you had justified it enough to wake Alexia up, ‘Ale,’ A small whisper of her name turned into a louder whisper and a light poke to her arm, ‘Amor…Ale,’ 

You frowned, standing up and leaning over her a little, you poked at her forehead and whisper shouted, ‘Alexia!’ 

Your girlfriend wide eyed, startled awake almost jumping out of her seat and almost hitting her head into yours. Stifling your laugh at your girlfriend below you, ‘Buenos días,’ You sang out teasing her, a cheeky smirk across your face watching Alexia process it all before rolling her eyes.

‘Dios mio,’ Alexia grumbled, playfully pushing your arm away from her, still half asleep, ‘They did not put you far enough away from me,’ You knew when Alexia was playing with you, the corners of her lips curved up, the way she tightens her lips as if to keep the amused chuckle in the back of her throat. 

You dramatically gasped, feigning offense, ‘And I thought you loved me,’ 

‘Well…’ Alexia gave you a faux awkward smile, looking away from you briefly covering up the slight crack of a smirk threatening to break the banter.

‘Oh, I see how it is,’ You stood up so you weren’t leaning over her anymore, ‘Alexia,’ Curtly nodding your head in her direction before turning to walk away. 

Before you knew it, Alexia had grabbed your wrist, pulling you onto her lap, ‘Mi amor, you do not get to call me that,’ Smirking, you knew that would work. Whenever you wanted to ‘win’ something you’d just call Alexia by her name. She cracked every single time. Predictable.

‘Alright, la reina,’ Rolling the ‘r’ and drawing out the word. The playful frown and ‘serious’ look Alexia had given you the first time was replaced with a deadpan glare. All you did was poke the corner of her mouth where they were once again betraying her and lifting up into a smile, ‘Capi,’

A small laugh escaped your lips when you heard Alexia take a sharp breath. Alexia gave your hip a small squeeze, ‘Cariño,’ You gave a small peck to Alexia’s lips in return.

Alexia did notice how your leg hadn’t stopped bouncing the moment she had you in her lap. Whenever you were restless only Alexia ever seemed to be able to get you to settle down. It was frustrating at times when you and Alexia couldn’t be together, especially at night when all you’d want to do is sleep. Alexia just made you feel that level of safety and comfort where your body was able to fully relax and not be so alert. 

You leaned your head on Alexia’s shoulder. She moved a little so you both could get comfy, realising that now you were here with her, you weren’t going back to your own seat until you actually had to go back, ‘You’re comfy,’ Alexia let out a small laugh, her hand coming up so her fingers could run over the back of your head gently, ‘Ale, all the movies are boring,’ 

‘I’m sure I can find us something not too boring cari,’ You wanted to disagree but Alexia holding you close, her hand now rubbing your back gently, for someone who was practically bouncing off the walls of the plane, you were now quite content.

‘You are la reina after all,’ Your voice was a lot smaller, mumbling a little, eyes now only half open staring up at her softly. Alexia thought it was ironic, you waking her up just to fall asleep on her. You were lucky you were cute and Alexia made sure to remind you. Though she’d happily have you wake her up any time when you needed her, she’ll always be there and she knows you’d do the same for her.

‘Don’t worry, we’ll be home soon,’ Alexia kissed your forehead, her lips lingering.

‘Being with you feels like coming home,’ You moved your hand so you were holding Alexia’s free one, ‘So I’m already home now,’ 

[ratatouillewastakendammit]

Tomorrow, I promise

Pairing: Dabi x Reader

Summary: a good love-quirk fic for Touya <3

Warnings: slighttt smut; tbh just more suggestive; language; this was written super quickly

Word Count: 3.7k

“I promise I’m fine,” you offer Magne a smile as you attempt to wriggle out of her grasp.

It seems to be in vain, though, the older woman continuing to fuss around you with a huff.

Unfortunately, it had been like this for the entirety of your journey back to the League's hideout. Thanks to Kurogiri's portal, the trek had been short, but an overwhelming one nonetheless.

The mission that you had been given was simple.

Break into building; take files concerning hero whereabouts in said-building; leave.

As usual, it did not go that easily.

In your defense, your group, consisting of you, Spinner, Toga, Twice, and Magne, had taken out the guards fairly quickly, despite the fact that Shigaraki had severely underestimated the abundance of said forces.

"It's a holiday, you'll be fine."

Clearly, the man was having trouble believing his own words, considering Twice would've never been brought on a purely stealth-based mission.

So you had dealt with it accordingly, fully expecting a moderately high amount of security, even on a day that most of the company's workers had off.

What you hadn't expected was the wide-eyed receptionist coming in to do overtime.

The cries of pain and ferocity overpowering your senses were almost enough to distract from the quivering leg stuck out from behind a desk.

Although you were technically considered a villain, you had enough self-respect to leave innocent bystanders out of your groups attacks on hero society, especially those that were so blatantly under-payed and overworked that they had to come in on a national holiday.

Despite the fact that the worker looked like they were about to keel over from fear any moment, you were able to take them by the arm and usher them out amidst the storm of violence surrounding you both.

You almost did it without any mishaps, too.

But it was when Magne hurled one of the guards into the wall in front of you that it all happened. His body was flung into the panels with a sickening crunch, one that had you contemplating whether or not it came from the broken wood or an arm.

Regardless of that fact that you were part of the squad wreaking havoc on their workplace, the receptionist wrapped their arms around you with a fearful screech. Which would have been fine, if not for the flare of light flickering throughout the room as their pinky brushed your bare shoulder.

You had quickly pushed them out of the room without a word, ignoring the worried glances of some of your cohorts as you continued taking care of security.

Unsurprisingly, the worker had scurried off by the time you all had finished.

And while you continuously insisted that you neither felt nor noticed anything of significance, Magne was far from convinced.

"Spinner said he'll figure out who that was and if anything happens we can just go ask."

"And what if you're dead by tomorrow?" The redhead mumbled in exasperation. "You kids aren't immortal."

"Not a kid, and I'm pretty sure I would know if I was dying," You paused, hand on the hideout's door. "And please don't say anything to Shigaraki. He'll just get pissed off."

She sighed, but nodded, followed by twin salutes from Twice and Toga, the ones you were honestly the most worried about. Spinner, although loyal to the League, wasn't anywhere near Shigaraki's biggest fan, so you weren't all that concerned.

And speak of the devil, your fearless leader was immediately spotted at the bar, nursing some drink that you silently suspected was dashed with a few tablespoons of that new blue raspberry liquor you and Twice had found on sale.

Earlier statements of "who would drink that radioactive looking shit" seemed to be forgotten as he downed the drink and turned toward your group. "How'd it go?"

"Fine," you replied, taking out a small pile of folders from your pack and tossing them on the table.

Toga skipped past you and tossed herself on the couch. "It was boring."

The teen continued on about how Spinner wouldn't let her take one of the guards back to drain throughout the rest of the week, her voice effectively drowning out the soft creek of aged wood under black leather boots.

"Took you long enough."

You turned to meet Dabi's usual snarky remark with one of your own, eyes locking with his as you froze in place.

He arched an eyebrow, watching the annoyance melt from your features. "See something you like, princess?"

In all honesty, when you began walking over to him in silence, he was about eighty percent sure that you were going to smack him. While the nickname he had bestowed upon you was a possible factor, he had been known to possess quite the track-record for getting on your nerves, so he wouldn't exactly have been surprised if it was for something he had forgotten about.

He was absolutely flabbergasted, however, when you stopped right in front of him, grasped his face between your hands, and pulled him downward into a kiss.

A wave of campfire washed over your senses, leaving the faintest smell of mint in its wake. Each scent had a way of combating one another, pushing for dominance yet melding together in a way that was absolutely intoxicating. The way it filled your lungs was nothing less than addicting.

The softness of your lips against his left Dabi stunned silences, pupils blown open in shock. Realization only seemed to occur when he forced the groan bubbling up his throat away, trying his best to ignore the way your fingers tangled through his darkened locks.

As you pulled back, his urge to drag you forward once more was heinous. Especially so as you offered him a smile, sweet enough to make a man's knees buckle and one that he had certainly never seen from you.

Seemingly able to ignore the gaping stares coming from the rest of the League, you lifted your heels off the ground, snaking your arms around Dabi's neck as tugged him into a hug. Your breath tickled his ear as you whispered, "I missed you."

He blinked, eyes narrowing in a mixture of bewilderment and suspicion as he drew back from your hold. "What the hell happened to you?"

But dammit, if he didn't immediately regret it.

It had been quite a bit since he had actually felt bad about something, but the hurt dancing in your expression made him feel nauseous.

And that pout?

Absolutely leathal.

Magne was the first to say something, that of which being a small, "Oh, dear."

Maybe it was the apprehensive tone lacing her voice, or he just needed someone to yell at, but it was Magne who was the victim of Shigaraki's demands for someone to tell him what was happening.

The group listened to her explanation, the soft drill of the air conditioning and fire crackling in the corner meeting the moments of silence in between each thought. While the rest of your cohorts landed on the calm agreement regarding some sort of love or feelings-based quirk, your leader seemed to be quite piqued at this unexpected problem.

“And you didn’t think to find them or something?” Even with the severed hand covering his face, Shigaraki's annoyance was evidently apparent.

“That worker was gone by the time we were out! And she," Toga lifted a hand from the couch, lazily flicking it in your direction, "said she was fine."

Arms crossed, you backed away with a huff. "I am fine!"

“Ha!” Twice stuck a finger towards the man beside you. "When's the last time she looked at you like that?"

"Oh, come on," Dabi rolled his eyes before turning towards you, gripping your chin between two fingers. "You don't hate me that much, right, doll?"

You giggled, shaking your head in response.

A fucking giggle.

"This is grossing me out," Shigaraki spun his bar stool away from you both with what you guessed to be a scowl. "Spinner, fix this."

"On it."

It was maybe an hour before your green-skinned ally knocked on your door, saying that he'd found the workers information, along with an address to a small apartment on the East side of the city.

And a demand for Dabi to come with him.

"Go figure it yourself."

The second victim of this curse was enjoying himself quite a bit.

Especially when you had grabbed his wrist and pulled him into your room, sat him down on the bed and promptly found your own seat on his lap, wrapping an arm around his neck. Your free hand was holding up your phone, thumb scrolling upward through a of feed of animal videos.

Was this really what you did in your free time?

There was something ridiculously innocent about it, a far cry from the persona you wore while interacting with the League.

Cute.

It was getting more and more difficult, however, to ignore how increasingly annoyed he was becoming at the current situation.

Despite his best efforts, he had begun to care about you. Initially, he thought you were hot, sure, but actual feelings were out of the question.

At least that's what he thought for the first few weeks after your meeting.

With every flirtatious remark and witty retort you threw back in his direction, you had somehow managed to worm your way through his pre-constructed mental walls.

And maybe if he hadn't actually cared about what you thought of him, he would've been able to enjoy this a little more.

Or if anything he would've been able to look forward to making fun of you for this little debacle later on.

But something about ruminating on the fact that it took a love quirk to make you even smile his way left a sour taste in his mouth.

What on Earth had you done to him?

Actually, now that he thought about it, taking care of this little twerp might do him some good. Lighting stuff ablaze was an easy form of stress relief, regardless of how much he denied the sulking. And being left to stew in his emotions next to a version of some relationship with you he would never be able to achieve definitely wasn't an option.

"Never mind, you'd probably just screw it up anyway." He lifted you off of his lap, trying to ignore the longing glance you shot his way. "I'll be back in a few hours. Don't do anything stupid and don't get yourself killed. Can you do that for me, doll?"

Tossing your phone onto the bed, you nodded, moving your head to rest on your hand as a physical teller of your dejection.

Surprisingly, this version of you was quite clingy, not that Dabi minded at all. He craned his neck to the side, taking a moment before finding himself fairly satisfied with your answer. "Good girl."

You blinked, the tightness in your jaw loosening slightly as your line of sight trailed down to the floor. Your thumb met your ring finger as you began to fidget, nails getting caught on one-another as they slide over with a clack.

The little act was easy to recognize, seeing as you indulged in the nervous act regularly often. It was usually before missions or something similar, an obvious teller of nervousness. Sometimes he'd go as far as to slap, albeit gently, one hand away from the other.

It did take him a second, though, to recognize that this instance you were flustered, which was quite a good look on you.

The corner of his lips twisted upward into a smirk.

He was screwed.

•

"This them?" Dabi shrugged towards the receptionist, who was currently cowering in the corner of their home bathroom, and waited for Spinner to nod in assurance before bending down to meet their line of sight.

Three minutes ago, they were doing perfectly fine, although a bit shaken up from the events that occurred earlier that afternoon.

The worker recognized the reptile-looking one, but definitely couldn't place the man with scars and black overcoat, at least not from anywhere that wasn't on the news or something similar. Although they never made a habit of keeping up with those types of things, it didn't make the man any less horrifying.

Waves of power wafted amidst the smoke folding over his fingers. Despite that demeanor of nonchalance, something akin to anger danced within the blue of his eyes.

That alone was enough to send the worker into the washroom, the door bolted shut. Of course, it didn't take much effort for the two intruders outside to fix that.

"I promise I haven't told anyone," they wheezed.

Dabi clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Uh-huh. You hit my girl with your quirk."

Spinner grimaced in disgust. "Don't call her that."

"How do you fix it?" The man in black inquired, completely ignoring that order from behind him.

"I didn't mean to I promise! Sometimes it just goes off when I'm super nervous..." tears were streaming down their face at this point, a slimy pit of horror beginning to bubble in their stomach. "But it should wear off in less than a day, I swear!"

Cerulean eyes narrowed, Dabi turning around to get Spinner's input and earning a lazy shrug in return.

"If they're lying we can just come back." His words drew a small whimper of fear from the receptionist. "If all goes well, she'll hate you again by tomorrow morning."

"You?" Dabi turned back around to face the worker, eyes blazing in a way that left them shaking in the corner. "I'm s-sorry! I just wouldn't have guessed that you would've been the other one affected."

He scoffed, ignoring sharp sting the jab of the words left in his chest. "What the hell is that supposed to mean? I thought it was a 'first person you lock eyes with' situation or some shit like that."

"Uh..." This was the first time that the worker looked anything other than utterly terrified. Their lower lip curled inward, hiding from under their top row of teeth in a way that someone could only view as embarrassment. "Not really..."

Cocking his head to the side, Dabi cocked an eyebrow, expression laced with boredom as he waved a hand for the worker to continue.

"Well.. you kind of, umm... have to have feelings for the person already to get affected."

A pause.

"What?"

"Uh, yeah... And I was just surprised since you're kind of..."

'Scary' is what would've finished that statement, though they didn't exactly feel as though insulting a wanted criminal was the best move.

Honestly, on any given day they probably would have been fried for even starting that sentence, but Dabi seemed to have set his mind to other things.

"So everything that somebody says, when they're under your quirk or whatever, they mean all of it?"

"All of the emotions or thoughts are real, they just get really intensified." They nodded once more. "Please don't kill me."

Dabi took a moment to think, giving the words time to steep among the heat of his emotions before allowing his expression to darken, a heinous smirk twisting at the corner of his lips.

In all honesty, that grin made the receptionist want to vomit. Wicked glee seeped over his features like a toxic gas.

"Yeah, fine, whatever. I'm feeling charitable," Dabi responded, re-adjusting the cuffs of his jacket as he stood. "Spinner, we're leaving."

•

It wasn't long before they arrived back to the hideout.

Night had fallen at that point, a blanket of navy encasing the universe with its darkness. Still, when Dabi knocked on your door, he was immediately greeted with arms around his neck.

Pulling back, you noticed the calculating expression painted over a usually nonchalant gaze. “Is everything okay?”

Bending forward, he placed a small kiss on your forehead. "Peachy." If anything else, the grin you offered him in return made that little detour to that shitty apartment worth it. Hands sliding behind your thighs, he picked you up, legs wrapped around his waist as he carried you over to the bed. "I do have some questions, though."

As he sat down, you still straddling his lap, Dabi took a moment to let his gaze trail over your body.

Or, more specifically, the absolutely sinful set of pajamas covering it.

A pair of sapphire blue shorts barely covered skin of your upper thigh. Still, the garment was loose fairly, allowing it to ride up just slightly enough to tighten his pants. The similarly colored top was cut perfectly, sleeves short and fabric thin enough to clearly display the arch of your nipples underneath.

"Fuck, do you always wear stuff like this?"

You blinked, line of sight following his. "I guess so. The AC sucks in here," you chuckled, sliding off of his lap. "If you want, I can get changed."

Just as you turned away towards the dressing, Dabi's hand snaked around your wrist, pulling you back into his chest with a yelp.

"Not happening." His arm slid around your waist, thumb toying with the band of your sleep shorts. "So how long have you liked me, then?"

"For a few weeks, I think," You replied, taking a moment to think. "You annoy me sometimes, but I don't really mind."

He snorted.

"I'm serious! I..." Dabi watched you bite your lip, eyes wavering in apprehension. "I was actually also wondering if you wanted to have se-"

"Don't finish that sentence."

"That's okay," you waved him off, the downturn of your lips betraying the idea that you truly didn't mind. "I understand if you wouldn't want to..."

"Shit," he groaned, shifting forward to push you back onto the bed. "It's taking a whole lot of self control to not fuck you right now."

"Then why why don't you?"

"Because it'll be so much more satisfying to watch you whimper and beg for me tomorrow." Dabi moved above you, placing a hand beside your face on each side. He drew his right knee forward, placing it between your thighs just barely enough to make you squirm. "Understand?"

A groan escaped you as you shifted your hips against his leg.

"Fuck. I didn't know you were such a slut."

The look on your face was like nicotine, purely addictive in all the wrong ways. The way your eyes rolled back, the slight quiver running across your lower lip had his cock tightening, enough to know that if this continued, he'd do something he would regret.

Patience was said to be a virtue, although he never exactly enjoyed those in general.

Dabi moved back, taking that sweet, soft pleasure with him and pushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "Tomorrow, doll."

One foot off the bed, ready to leave, he felt a wrist wrap around his own.

"Can you stay though?" You looked up at him through your eyelashes. "Please?"

With that look, you could've asked him to eat his boot and he would've said yes.

You looked so innocent and sweet.

So fucking needy.

"Move over."

You woke up warm the next morning.

It was well past whatever normal, productive time-frame you usually adhered to, you knew that much. It had been the best sleep you'd had in a while, filled with blissful darkness and soft silence.

Still, it didn't seem to feel like it.

Head spinning, you slowly opened your eyes, allowing yourself to register your surroundings. Your first thought was that you were still dreaming. It didn't take long for your heart to drop, jaw tightening as you realized what was happening was real.

To your utter horror, you seemed to be cuddling with Dabi. Your arms were wrapped around his chest, a leg straddling his abdomen like a body pillow.

"Morning, doll."

You practically flew backward, trying to get as much distance between you and Dabi without falling off the bed completely. The arrogant smile slowly painting his features left a nervous hole in your chest. "What happened?"

He yawned, sitting up in bed before resting his face on the palm of his hand. "Don't worry, doll. We haven't slept together. Yet."

"I'm sorry?" You sputtered.

A smirk pulled at the corner of his lip. "Take your time."

Eyes narrowed, you took a moment to recall what happened last. Slowly but surely, the memories started flooding back, heat creeping into your cheeks in tandem.

"I... that wasn't... fuck." Whatever pitiful explanation you had tried coming up with got stuck in your throat, weighed down by the pit of humiliation sitting in your stomach. You wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow you up, hidden away from the cerulean eyes watching in amusement.

"Aww, is someone getting shy?" Dabi stood, strolling forward to meet your line of sight. The way he looked at you felt predatory, enough to send a shiver down your spine. Still, it was better to focus on that than the warmth growing in your lower abdomen. "I thought we were passed that. You definitely weren't feeling nervous when you tried to suck my face off yesterday."

You swallowed. "That was because of the quirk."

"Liar." He pushed your body backwards, allowing it to fall onto the sheets before crawling over you. A grin spread across his features, as he cleared his throat, raising his voice to mock your tone. "Please, Dabi, I'm so horny for you. I need you to fuck me with your monster cock-"

"I did not say that!" Your hands slid up to cover your face, if somehow that would help quell the heat of your humiliation.

"Nu-uh, eyes up here, princess." One of his hands encased your wrists, bringing them together and above your head. "You basically said that."

"You're insufferable."

"You don't seem to have a problem with that." Dabi chuckled, craning his neck to the side to watch you squirm. Using his left hand, he grasped your chin, forcing it forward so your line of sight met his.

Your eyes traveled over his face, searching for some hint as to what he would say next. The blue in his irises burned in excitement.

"You ready to beg yet?"

[littlestarlightseverywhere]

A Little Help

Pairing: Lucien x Reader

Summary: When Lucien’s lover is overcome with pain from her cycle, only one thing can help

Warnings: None (period pains, maybe??)

Notes: So random and not developed at all, just a small little blurb to help get me out of my writer’s block <3 Taking a brief break from my usual Azriel brainrot to give Lucien some love

The pain was neither kind nor forgiving in the way it permeated her dreamworld before she even had the chance to wake.

It slowly pulled her from her slumber until she found herself no longer under the duvet beside her furnace of a mate, but clutching the cold bathroom tile for an ounce of relief instead. The torment was relentless, spasm after spasm seized her lower belly until she couldn’t help but moan into the toilet.

Her elbows rested on either side of the porcelain bowl, a weak hand propping her head up as she rode out the last wave of torture. In an effort to take her mind to some place far away from the misery, she tried to recall what she had been dreaming about.

She was somewhere pleasantly warm with endless golden light bathing every surface. Lucien was there. Near a lake, perhaps, as the sound of gentle water lapping over itself felt right. Feyre was around too, with Nesta and Azriel– a holiday? She tried harder to recall more details, paint a picture vivid enough to distract her, but the effort was fruitless. There was nothing she could do and the knowledge of it left her so helpless, so irritated. Suddenly, the fact she was crouched at the toilet bowl repulsed her, the light in the washroom was far too bright on her eyes this late in the night, and all she fucking wanted was a damn second to breathe.

“Love?” His deep, sleep-leadened voice pulled her from her thoughts. She slowly opened her eyes to find Lucien standing at the threshold of the washroom, eyebrows furrowed disquietingly.

“Sorry if I woke you,” she meant to sound calm– totally cool, totally collected, like she totally had it all under control. But it was hard to put up a front with Lucien when her body so naturally relaxed in his presence, so it really was unavoidable that her voice instead came out depleted and small.

“Oh baby, do you need the toilet?” He didn’t waste a second in crouching beside her, placing a large hand on her back. When she took a moment to reply, he slowly ran his hand up and down the length of her spine, trying to soothe her in any way he could. He knew he was utterly useless in this situation. Lucien hated seeing his mate in this pain. When she was otherwise injured, at least he could see what was wrong and fix it. Physically mend a cut, salve a burn. He could hardly reach into her and soothe her from the inside, though she knew he would if he could.

He did not even want to think about what he would do if he had to go through this every six months. To be honest, Lucien didn’t think he, nor any male for that matter, could handle it, at least with as much grace as she does. He made sure to tell her this each time she was on her cycle because it always earned a small smile from her when nothing else could.

“Can you please get me a cloth?” Without hesitation, he went into the cabinets for find one for her.

“Do you need help?” Lucien asked, handing her a thick pad.

She quickly shook her head. “I can do it, can you just put my hair up? I feel like I’m going to pass out.”

Lucien quickly took the hair tie around his wrist and gently twisted the hair curtained around her face into a loose bun at the back of her head.

“Better?” He asked, kissing the back of her shoulder. She let her head drop slightly when the cool air kissed the back of her neck, whispering a breathless, barely-there thanks.

“Can you get up?”

She nodded, but she lifted her arms anyway. Lucien took the cue, sliding his arms underneath her to slowly help her up from the ground, heart breaking at her groan. She felt the flood as soon as her legs straightened, along with a fresh cramp tearing through her muscles, and grabbed onto Lucien as hard as she could. He didn’t even flinch, only waited with her until she was ready to move.

“I can carry you if you need me to,” He offered.

“No, I can walk,” he couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth, that even at her most vulnerable she could be so stubborn. He’d be lying to himself if he said her bullishness wasn’t what drew him to her in the first place. “Just, don’t let go of me.”

“I’m not letting go, love.”

Slowly, he helped guide her to the bed, where she collapsed into the covers. He climbed in next to her, pulling her body gently into his. Lucien knew when another wave of pain would come over her with the way her body tensed under him, and he gently squeezed her hip where his hand rested to remind her he was right there.

“How bad is it right now?” He murmured into the top of her head into her hair.

“Lucien I can’t even think of anything else right now,” Her voice was so small, so unlike her. “Every time feels worse than the last.”

He felt an anger that almost wasn’t his ripen in his chest at her anguish, but he quickly subdued it, reminding himself it was not about him at this moment– he would let himself feel it, alone, after she finds some peace.

“I’m sorry,” He cradled her head in his chest, feeling her erratic breathing against his torso as she fought to maintain her composure against the relentless cramping. “You’re doing so good.”

Her hand softly held his wrist as the pain subsided slightly. “Luc, can you do the thing?

She was so exhausted, so out of it, she couldn’t even describe what she needed, but with Lucien, she never needed too. He always knew.

“Of course, love. Get on your back for me.”

She did as he said and guided his hand to her lower belly, right where the cramps would come and go as they pleased.

“Here,” she lightly instructed him, the weight of his heavy hand a welcome pressure. “I’m sorry, you must be so tired too.”

He shifted on his side and propped himself up on one below so he could look at her face as he said to her, “You don’t need to worry about me love.”

She smiled at him, finding comfort in how safe he always made her feel. She did worry about him. All the time. She worried when he went over the wall where the humans were. She worried when he returned to the Spring Court to check on Tamlin. She worried when he went into town, when he worked on their house, and even when he laid asleep beside her. But however much she worried for him, Lucien worried for her an unfathomable amount more. Becoming Lucien’s lover was like becoming a celestial body of the universe, for she’d never known what it felt like to be someone’s world until she became his. Lucien never let her forget it, not in the words he spoke to her or the things he did for her.

Like now, as he gently pulled up her night shirt and laid his large hand over her lower belly, she felt his palm heat up over her, bringing almost immediate relief to the pain. Her hand rested on top of his, absentmindedly running her fingertips over his calloused knuckles. It wasn’t lost on her, the way her cycles were much easier on her, with him. There was only so much that could be done to ease an inescapable pain, but Lucien had still found a way for her.

“Too hot?” He checked in after a few minutes of her silence.

“No,” she mumbled. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

He watched her melt into the covers, the features of pain recede from her face. He’d never been called perfect before he met her. Not with his long red hair, his whirring eye, his scar. The girls wanted a Rhysand or a Cassian, even a Tamlin at some point. Never had he felt perfect, it was never even a word in his vernacular, but things were different now. He’d started to believe he could achieve something close to perfect, if only for his mate who deserved nothing less.

He’d helped so many people, done so much good, with his fire magic. Still, nothing felt as meaningful and important as when he was able to use it to help his mate. Even the times where he’d used his powers to hurt and destroy, she always gave him a way to remember he is not these things at his core. This– using his fire magic to warm the pain he could not physically reach– is who he was. She knew that, and so really, who gives a fuck if no one else did?

“I love you,” he spoke softly, knowing she probably didn’t hear it. From the open window, a breeze sighed into the room, carrying his words into the sky for the stars to hear instead, but they already knew.

Lucien did not sleep until she did. He didn’t mind the lack of sleep at all, though. On nights like these, he took the opportunity to reflect. In the very beginning he struggled to sit with his thoughts, plagued by so many created against his will. Now, it came easier to him with much more to be thankful for, to live for, than before.

Nothing is so difficult anymore, he thought to himself as he watched her finally find peace in her sleep beneath his touch.

[13hoax]

‧₊’tis the damn season ༄

fem!reader x ex!matt sturniolo ౨ৎ 13hoax

— after you and matt broke up about a year ago, he ended up moving to LA, while you stayed in massachusetts. to escape your heartbreak and the town you both once shared, you found yourself a new home near cape cod. you recently were hired at a local cafe that also acts as a bookstore. just as you start moving on from your break up, a familiar face shows up unannounced at your work.

inspired by this song by taylor swift - notes: swearing, angst, fluff

— [10:13am] the air brewed of coffee beans and cool autumn air. you boringly peered over the cash register, studying the few people quietly sat in scarves and boots, sipping coffee and flipping through crisp book pages. your focus shifted to the door when you heard the loud and unforgiving bell, hung above the wooden frame. the heavy door began to swing open due to the harsh breeze outside.

approaching you slowly through the doorway was a brunette haired boy. you began watching attentively as his eyes darted across the cafe, making himself familiar with the layout he'd clearly just discovered. he adjusted the buttons on his coat while he walked up to the counter. his head finally lifted up enough to meet yours, then you got a glimpse of those familiar blue eyes.

standing in shock on a painfully slow monday afternoon, was far from expected. it was matt, your ex-boyfriend matt, who you haven’t seen for almost a year. even though you haven’t spoke to matt in what felt like forever, you still thought about him every single day since he moved out to LA. he also realized who was standing right in front of him at the same time as you. after what felt like ages of you both standing aimlessly, acting stunned by each other's presence in a random cafe in cape cod, you gain the courage to confront him first.  

“what are you doing here?” you interrogate with annoyance.

matt: “that’s a weird way to say hello,” he says smirking

“seriously matt why are you here?”

completely avoiding your question, matt continues his dialogue while peering down, toying with some wrapped baked goods displayed on the counter top.

matt: “sooo... since when did you work in cape cod?”

“since when were you back in mass?” you sass back while acknowledging his ignorance.

matt: “hm.. since maybe the holiday season? and i'm staying at my parents house.." he paused then continues, "i'm actually shocked you chose to move here out of all places.. it's a bit touristy, don't you think?” he says, tilting only his eyes upward to find yours.

“it’s actually the farthest i was able to go from our hometown, the tourists don’t annoy me as much as you’d think they would.”

matt: “so you enjoy it here..?”

confused by his questions and the fact he appeared out of nowhere. your temper starts to rise due to the feeling of humiliation on why your ex, matt sturniolo, would show up at your small coffee shop, an hour away from both of your hometowns. your eyebrows tighten together when you decide to interrogate him once more. 

“seriously matt, i'm not here to play games. out of all places you could go to in massachusetts, why are you here??”

matt whines with a pouting frown, “is it a crime to want to order a coffee and support a small business-” “oh don't give me that shit, seriously you need to leave, now,” you quickly interrupt him as you turn around to hand one of your co-workers an empty coffee cup. matt holds his head up higher to get a better look at you, who is now standing next to the sink, drying coffee cups with a clean towel.

matt: “you aren't curious what i've been up to?.. not even a little bit?”

turning your head only slightly to hear him better, you scoff at his egotistical question while replying, “if i wanted to know who you were hanging with while you were gone, i would've asked you.”

while standing your ground to hopefully show matt you won’t come running back to him any time he shows you attention, you continued to keep your eyes locked on the delicate cups in front of you.

you hear matt sigh as he seemingly gives up hope and guides himself out of the shop. once again you hear that painful brass bell ring, but this time you’re relieved because it means you’re safe to return back to the cash register. 

— [3:03pm] after your shift ends you collect your things from the rusty lockers. the whole interaction with matt is still haunting your thoughts and is inescapable at this point. with your leather shoulder bag and water bottle in hand, you clock out and make your way to the back door to start your walk to your newest apartment.

as you reach into your bag to grab your cinnamon flavored lip gloss, you pass the brick corner and instead of seeing the cement sidewalk like usual, your eyes draw you to see matt. once again he's standing right in front of you. you stop like a deer in headlights as he reaches out to touch your forearm and starts to speak,

matt: “ok seriously.. i come all the way over here to see you, and you shoot me down like that?”

in disbelief of his words, since he was the one who left you heartbroken last fall due to his job on social media and traveling back and forth, you become curious of his intentions.

“so you couldn't just call? you just showed up at my minimum wage job instead?”

matt: “i didn't want to upset you, i just wanted to check up on you. no matter what happened between us.. you know i still care about you.”

“yeah you really cared when you made me leave the warmest bed i’ve ever known, that shit fucked me up matt.” you say unsteady. 

matt: “i know there’s an ache in you, put there by the ache in me. and i'm forever sorry for that. but please.. i just wanted to see how you were doing.. truly,” he says sincerely.

he notices your longing stare with watered eyes and tries to change the topic in a quick attempt of redemption from his unannounced appearance. he rubs the side of your arm with his thumb, desperate to comfort you and find a distraction, “is that a new lip gloss?” your eyes shift to him as he wipes the corner of your eye. you nod shakily, trying to suppress the emotions from not only seeing matt when you finally thought you were over him, but also the feeling of his touch that was deeply missed. you slowly start to walk past him as he follows closely behind.

“you’d be surprised how much lip gloss a girl can collect in a year,” you say, trying to forget the subtle breakdown that just occurred.

he smiles at your words while he catches up to you, removing his keys from his jean loop. pointing the key, he unlocks his muddy truck tired vehicle on the street, and grabs the door handle to open the passenger door only slightly. “spend one weekend with me, we can call it even,” he says, locking his eyes on yours. he knows if he holds the contact long enough it’ll be harder for you to deny him.

breaking eye contact, you brush between him and the truck, signaling him to let go of the handle. you open the door facing away from him, trying your best to hide the end of your teary eyes and the new pink flush gathering in your cheeks. you swiftly jump into the passenger seat, turning back to him while nodding ever so slightly, “i’ll be yours for the weekend.”

— hi! this is my first time writing here, so i hope anyone who reads this likes it!! and i’m sorry if i got any grammar or punctuation wrong!! i have part two in the making so lmk if anyone is interested :) 

© 13hoax — nov. 2024

this fic is being added to my evermore collection! i plan on writing a fic for each of my fav songs off there since it’s one of my fav albums!

[daengtokki]

𝐵𝓁𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝒟𝒶𝓉𝑒

Kim Seungmin/Female Reader

wc: 9.7k

rating: fluff -`♡´-

Part 1 of 4 5

MASTERLIST

˚☽˚.⋆

The lines around his mouth deepen. His hand jumps up to cover it as his lips finally break open to make way for a tiny laugh. He replaces his hand with his coffee cup, sipping around a shy smile. “Thank you.” But he shakes his head a little when he says it.

You catch a glimpse of the braces he’s instinctively trying to hide.

/ / /

It’s half-past eight and you’re already an hour behind. Work got hectic, and then the surprise meeting really threw you off balance. Tonight is not the best night for a date. A blind date, actually, set up for you with nothing but love and the very best of intentions in mind by your friend and co-worker. And if you’re being honest with yourself, one of the only close friends you’ve made since moving far from home. She’s your best friend, really. Choonhee even helped you find your job here in Korea.

Now that you think about it, maybe this whole date idea was to take some of the weight off of her. The two of you spend most of your time together. She teaches you how to cook all of your favorite dishes, helps you keep your finances in order. She’s always there when things get a little too overwhelming. You don’t blame her for wanting to find you more friends.

You feel your phone vibrate in your back pocket.

“Please please also be running behind,” You mumble to yourself.

Meet him at the cafe in an hour

A sigh of relief. You look at yourself in the mirror. Time to shower. Time to overthink what you’re going to wear.

It’s just a casual thing, she said. No dressing up. Just wear what I’d wear if I were hanging out any other time with any other friend. That really didn’t make things easier, though. You try to remember what she did tell you about your date, but it wasn’t much:

Tall, but not too tall. ‘Taller than you’ is what she said, actually. Nice eyebrows. Kind of a smart ass if you know him well enough. He’s funny…she really emphasized the fact that he has an interesting sense of humor. His hair is currently blond, or it was the last time she saw him. ‘He looks cute blond’, also her words. And ‘he did it for work’.

What does that even mean? You didn’t bother getting any other information out of her. It’s going to be uncomfortable and awkward no matter how much you know, but you forgot to ask how well he spoke English. It doesn’t matter now. You just hope there’s enough overlap in language to make it through an hour or so.

____

At 9:40 (you’re late) you jump out of your taxi and try to orient yourself. You’ve been here before, but not much, and not lately. And it’s busy because of the holiday. You suddenly regret every decision you’ve made today. Maybe it’s not too late to cancel and get yourself back home and under the blankets.

Buzz buzz

Are you there? He’s waiting near the door, but didn’t want to go in without you because it’s a little busy

Oh, that’s kinda nice. At least he’s thoughtful. Or maybe he’s just anxious. Your heart is still beating out of your chest and you can feel how hot your cheeks are despite the chilly air. You start your walk toward the cafe, about a half a block down. There are far too many people loitering on the sidewalk; waiting for rides, talking in tight little groups, phones out and taking videos of friends. You squeeze yourself through until you get to the tables set up outside. Also full of people.

You close your eyes and take in a deep breath. Seven seconds in, five out. Right? It helps a little, so you open your eyes and take a cautious look around. There are so many people that could potentially be him, so you try to filter out the blonds. There are a lot of kinda tall blonds, but only one by himself. And he isn’t really blond. This guys hair is a light soft brown. The way the warm lights bounce off of it does make it look lighter, though.

He’s right by the outer doors of the cafe, back against the wall with one foot flat against it. His raised knee is swinging back and forth like a metronome. He’s bobbing his head a little as he stares down at his phone. It lights up his face, but most of it is covered with a black mask. And then, almost as if he feels your eyes on him, he looks up and right at you. His hair bounces down around his eyes a bit, and he shakes his head until he gets it out.

You hold the eye contact, but you forget how to react normally for a moment. You assume she told him about you and a little about your appearance, so…

He puts his phone in his pocket and waves, a little reluctantly, a little unsure. You’re not the only foreigner here, and definitely not terribly distinctive looking. But you’re certain you’re looking at the right person.

You wave back and smile.

He stands up straight and takes a few steps toward you, hands in the pockets of his jacket now. He takes them out almost immediately, though. Maybe he’s nervous, too.

He nods to you. His hand combs through his hair, but it bounces back exactly how it was before he touched it. “You’re late.”

You blush a little and your heart is thumping again. The mask is making it difficult to read him. That’s not how you were expecting him to greet you, and you really weren’t expecting somebody that looked like him

“I’m kidding…I’m kidding.” Now you can hear the lightness in his voice. It’s almost melodic, the way he speaks. He pulls at his mask a little to adjust it. “I just got here a few minutes ago.”

“Oh!” You try to hold his eyes with yours, but his gaze is a little intense. “Okay good…yeah it’s a little crazy out tonight.”

“It is busy,” he agrees with a little nod. “But we can go inside if it’s not too crowded for you. To get warm.”

His hands are back in his pockets again.

“Yeah, if you’re good, I’m good.”

It’s almost too warm inside the cafe, but it’s roomy, thankfully. The large amount of people are spread out nicely. The lights are turned down low, and the atmosphere is almost bar-like. The biggest difference is the smell of coffee and the soft voices. The music is familiar; something you would listen to in your free time.

He waits for you to catch up. You fall behind without realizing as you adjust to your surroundings.

“It’s nice in here,” he says, “what do you like to drink?”

“Just a regular latte.”

“That’s all?”

You nod at him, and he orders for both of you. It’s a good opportunity to see him in the brighter lights here at the counter. His long legs are in a pair of well fitting (but not too tight) black jeans, cuffed just enough that you see a bit of his ankle peeking above his white and tan sneakers. His jacket is light blue denim, and the hoodie underneath is white.

He half turns to look at you, and his eyes narrow in a way that let you know he’s smiling. It sets off butterflies in your stomach. You’ve barely spoken to him and you haven’t even seen his whole face, yet here you are, feeling like you’re falling.

“They’ll bring our drinks to us. We can find somewhere to sit.” He waves you toward him, and you follow as he leads you to the most out of the way table he can find. You’re thankful for the semi-privacy here.

There’s not much time to start a conversation, but you look at each other briefly. His gaze is a little intense from above his mask, but soft. His eyes are big and shiny, and he doesn’t look away from you. It feels like he’s searching for something to say.

A few moments later, a young girl arrives with two drinks. When she walks off again, he finally takes off his mask. Carefully he unhooks it from one ear, then the other, and folds it neatly into his pocket.

He’s better looking than you were expecting.

The smell of fresh coffee and the look in his eyes makes you feel a little…woozy. You wonder if he looks at everyone like this. It’s getting so warm in the cafe. You shake yourself out of your top layer before wrapping your hands around the warm mug.

Your force yourself to look up at him again. “Choonhee told me almost nothing about you. She didn’t even get your hair color right.”

“To be fair, I change it often.” He lifts his straw to his lips. Iced coffee. “She told me a lot about you.”

“Yeah? What did you she tell you? I may have to correct a few things.”

“No,” he laughs and shakes his head. “She said you were…nice, cute, funny, smart.”

You try not to dispute his ‘cute’ claim. Either he means it or he’s just being nice. Both are fine right now. “She did mention that we have similar personalities, but I don’t know exactly what she meant.”

“I think she must have a type when it comes to friends.”

His English is nice; very smooth. Only occasionally does he make a mistake with cadence. But it’s hardly noticeable. His voice is sweet and soft, and very soothing to your ears. You hope he keeps talking all night. Things will go much easier for you that way.

“She told me you were kind of a smart ass.”

Seungmin laughs at that, throwing his hand over his mouth when he does. “Only if you deserve it.” He drops his hand back to the table and then around his drink

The two silver rings he’s wearing glint a little in the light. One is thin and plain, the other is much wider, and the shape is a repeating row of G’s. You somehow recognize that G. It’s a Givenchy G.

“Is this real or a knockoff?” Gently, you take his hand in yours to get a closer look, and then realize how silly of a thing that was. Sometimes you forget to show restraint. You’re very American.

He doesn’t pull away, though. He doesn’t seem to mind you taking his hand in yours without warning. “It’s real. It was a gift.”

“Silver looks good on you.”

“Thank you.” He drops his eyes from you to your hands still clasped together. He says nothing, just waits until you let go to pull back.

“Oh…gift, that reminds me.” He digs in the pocket of his denim jacket and pulls out something small and white. Before handing it to you, he looks it over and smiles. “It’s silly, but I got you this...”

“You brought me something?”

Seungmin nods and passes it across the table. When you grab it, it’s soft and fuzzy. It’s a keychain. You’re definitely blushing and you’re 100% certain he can see the pink rising up from your neck and into your cheeks.

“I don’t know if you have a favorite, but Choonhee said you like dogs. I like dogs, too. Pochacco is my favorite.”

“Thank you, Seungmin.” You stare down at Pochaccos face and squeeze him. Then you hook him onto the keys hanging from your bag. You keep holding onto him, though.

He smiles again, much bigger than before. And this time he doesn’t cover his face with his hand. You see his braces this time, and it makes you smile. You obviously shouldn’t stare, but it’s hard not to. They look cute on him.

An oooh comes out in a whisper and you didn’t mean it to, but it’s out there now. You can’t take your eyes off of his mouth, and now you’re wondering what it would be like to kiss him.

“Oh…uhm.” Seungmin keeps smiling, but now his lips are back together. “Did she tell you I still had my braces?”

“No, she didn’t mention it.” You lean into the table more so you’re closer to him. It’s not a very big table. “She told me very little, I guess she wanted me to be surprised.”

“Hopefully no…bad surprises.”

“Nothing bad yet.”

The smile on his face becomes a little more reserved, but it’s still very much there. “How is your coffee…are you hungry?”

“It’s good,” You pick it up and take a sip. He’s been too distracting…you can’t even remember if you’ve taken a drink yet. “I am a little hungry, but I’m not much of an eater on dates. I’m usually too nervous.”

Seungmin nods, seeming to understand your reasoning. “Please let me know if you change your mind. We can get something.”

You nod back, “so how do you know Choonhee?”

“She used to work with me, where I work now.”

“Oh, where do you work?”

He seems to hesitate for a moment, look around, fidget with his drink. Then he looks at you again. “I work for JYP Entertainment.”

He works at one of the biggest entertainment companies in South Korea. And Choonhee worked there, too.

“I had no idea she used to work there.” You sit back in your chair and fold your arms over your chest. “That’s kind of a big change from what she does now.”

Seungmin nods, “in atmosphere, maybe. She was a tutor. You are a teacher, yeah?”

You nod, “yes, I teach English. Sometimes music, as a substitute.”

The table shakes a little as he moves closer. He can’t get much closer, unfortunately. “You teach music?”

“Not often, but yes. I take it you like music?”

“Yes, very much. Do you sing?

“Yeah, a little.”

There’s a little smirk on his lips as he finishes off the last bit of iced coffee. He shakes the remainder of his ice as he stands. “I’m going to find the restroom, I’ll be back.”

Before he leaves, he shakes himself free of his denim jacket and hangs it neatly across the back of his chair. You nod and watch him walk away. It’s difficult to keep your eyes off of him, but as soon as he disappears into the restroom, you pull out your phone. It’s buzzed three times since you’ve been here.

Have fun!!

Did you find him?

You don’t have to answer these btw, I’ll assume you haven’t answered because you found him and immediately fell in love

You unlock your phone and begin typing a response. “Yes, we found each other.” Send. You think for a moment, but her reply comes through before your next message.

Well!?

“He’s cute.”

You’re gonna fall in love, just give it a minute

From the corner of your eye you see him walk by the table. You look at him; he looks at you and waves, but his mask is back on. You think for the smallest moment he’s skipping out, but he’s only heading to the counter again. You watch him and your phone at the same time.

Buzz buzz

He likes you

Oh, he must have sent Choonhee a message in the restroom. He likes you. You’ve barely known each other thirty minutes, so he can’t possibly like you that much. But you like him, so maybe he does…

He returns with two small plates and sets one of them in front of you. The other is his. “I heard they have very good pastries here, so I thought we should try one.” He removes his mask and goes for a taste.

You pick yours up and carefully tear it in half. It’s filled with chocolate. “Oh, did you get the chocolate one, too?”

As he’s biting into it and making a mess, he nods. The flakes stick to his lips as he chews, and he carefully tries cleaning them off, but it’s a challenge. It’s cute. You can’t help but think of going over there and cleaning him off yourself. But you shake away the thought and stop staring.

——

“Seungmin…” he hands you your fresh coffee and leads the way out of the crowd. It’s dwindled a bit, but not by much. “It’s a nice name.”

“It’s so common, but I guess that’s not really a bad thing.”

“You look like a Seungmin.”

“Oh, is that a good thing?” He laughs.

You mmhmm him through your sip of coffee and purposely brush against his arm. He gave you his denim jacket to wear. You told him you weren’t cold, and it was no big deal, but you’re secretly grateful you have it around you. His scent is subtle on it; it’s nice.

“Are you warm enough?”

“Yeah, I’m alright,” you look up at him, but you can’t see well in the dim light. You can just make out the silhouette of his nose and mouth and chin. He licks his lips after another sip of coffee. “It’s nice here.”

You walked from the cafe and ended up at the edge of a large public park. It’s lit up and cozy, but a little chillier now that it’s gotten much later. There are still plenty of people milling around, though, mostly couples and groups of teenagers, but it’s not too crowded.

There are seats and tables here, so he leads you to a spot under some decent lighting and a working outdoor heater. It’s comfortable enough, but mostly it’s nice having him more to yourself. He’s looking down at his hands as they spin his coffee cup. A hot one this time.

Big dark eyelashes hide his eyes from you. Lips are closed tight like, he’s deep in thought. He looks at you then, as if he feels you watching. The lights makes them look wet, like maybe he could cry at any moment. But his cheeks lift as he smiles. His lips stay closed tight, but the corners of his mouth twitch a little as he fights an even bigger smile.

He feels familiar, but you can’t figure out why. Maybe you’ve seen him before. He’s the kind of good looking you’d see on tv or in a magazine, but he also looks like your cute childhood crush all grown up. So now you suddenly wonder what business you have being in front of him. Did Choonhee really think this was a good blind date?

Maybe for you. Seungmin could probably have anyone he wanted.

“You’re very handsome.”

The lines around his mouth deepen. His hand jumps up to cover it as his lips finally break open to make way for a tiny laugh. He replaces his hand with his coffee cup, sipping around a shy smile. “Thank you.” But he shakes his head a little when he says it.

You catch a glimpse of the braces he’s instinctively trying to hide.

“How long have you been here in Korea?” He asks. He can’t keep them hidden while he talks. Well, he could, but you’re sure he’s aware of how silly it would look if he held a hand over his mouth for the entire date.

“Two years…not very long,” you keep yours eyes on his eyes…or on his hands as they fidget with his cup. “I think your English is better than my Korean.”

“Is it?” Seungmin raises his eyebrows, and his face lights up. He bites down on the corner of his lip, making your eyes wander to the metal glint when he flashes his teeth. “Thanks.” He rubs a little at his mouth, probably fighting the habit of covering it again.

You want to tell him to relax; that his braces don’t distract from the rest of him

Seungmin sits up a bit and looks around. A few people have walked by since you sat down, but not many. There’s music playing from somewhere nearby, but you can’t tell where it’s coming from. It’s a soft song you’ve heard many times on the radio at work.

You want him to tell you everything he can about himself, but you don’t want to scare him off. It’s been less than two hours, but you can already feel yourself attaching—falling for him—doing what you always do with anyone who gives you the type of attention Seungmin is giving you tonight. He’s only had eyes for you all night, but occasionally he looks around and gets quiet…a little uncomfortable.. The first date nerves have mostly subsided for you, but maybe they haven’t for him.

“Are you still hungry? We could find somewhere to eat if it’s not too late.” He seems to be searching your face for an answer before he continues. “If it’s not too late to eat, I mean,” he looks down at the time on his phone, “it’s a little late.”

It’s nearly eleven. It is late for you, technically. You’re usually up early, unless you don’t have to be. Maybe he’s an early riser as well.

“It’s not too late, not during the holiday.”

____

Seungmin gets the two of you a ride this time, and you head a few miles closer to the city. There’s so much space between you in the backseat of the car, but he has his body turned toward you as he speaks. He seems to be texting on his phone between your conversation, but it’s the first time he’s been on it all night, aside from getting the car.

“I go here very often, so they know me.”

Pochacco is in your lap. You fidget with him as Seungmin speaks and types at the same time. “I’m glad you like him.”

____

The mask is back on his face as he leads you toward the restaurant. It looks busy from the outside, but the open design makes everything feel calm and quiet. As you’re standing there waiting, you feel his fingers graze against your hand. Your fingers twitch back against his.

A young man, you assume he is one of the hosts, walks over to you and bows. “We have your table ready for you.” He looks at Seungmin, and then to you before gesturing to follow him.

You walk off to the right and a little further beyond the packed bar. There are a fair amount of people in this slightly more private area, but nobody pays much attention as you follow Seungmin and the host to your table.

“What are you hungry for?” Seungmin removes his mask again. “Everything here is very good.”

“I’m not very picky, and I’ll try anything at least once. As long as there are no intestines.”

“Gopchang is not my favorite, but I have a good friend who makes it very well.”

You scan the menu. There’s a surprising amount of dishes listed. “I think I would like to try whatever your favorite dish is.”

“How do you feel about sharing something?”

It’s a cute suggestion and it catches you by surprise. He keeps doing all of the things that make you feel stupid and in love.

“We can both pick something and share them, or share one dish…if you want.” His smile grows a little as he speaks.

You like watching him become more comfortable as the night progresses. Hopefully your calm is making him calm, because you feel much better now than you have the entire day.

“Yeah, let’s share something.” Whatever makes you feel closer to him. One dish between the two of you is the obvious answer. “We should have your favorite.”

“I hope you don’t like spicy. I can’t do spicy.”

“No, I don’t need spicy. Maybe some kimchi, though. I like to try the kimchi everywhere I go.”

Seungmin smiles at you without holding himself back. “Yeah, we should have some kimchi, and Jjajangmyeon as well.” He nods and picks up his tea, but doesn’t take a drink. Instead he looks at you with curious eyes. The edge of the glass sits lightly against his lower lip.

You feel a little flutter in your chest just from looking at him now. “You should smile like that more often.”

“No,” He says it bluntly but playfully. “Maybe in a few months when they’re finally off.”

A little wave of sadness washes over you, but passes quickly. “You can smile for me, I like it.”

The buzzing of a phone interrupts you, but your eyes linger on his softening face for another few seconds. It’s Choonhee needing an update. You don’t want to be rude and you definitely don’t want to be distracted from working on figuring him out—or making him smile more.

But then another text message dings. It’s not you this time. Seungmin reaches into his pocket and glances quickly at his screen. “Should we answer her?”

____

You only reply to Choonhee’s text after your order has been placed and Seungmin excuses himself from the table.

“Yeah, all good still”

He LIKES YOU

You feel goosebumps break out all over your skin when you read her reply.

“He’s a little bit of a mystery. How did you meet him? Why didn’t I know you used to work at JYPE??”

You send the message, hoping you get an answer before he comes back. But a reply doesn’t pop up until a few minutes after he’s returned and food is brought out to the table.

Seungmin begins splitting the food between the two of you. “You can answer her, it’s okay.”

“No, I’m not worried about it. I’ll text her later.”

It doesn’t hurt to glance down at the message, though. All it says is “Kim Seungmin likes you (ง¬᎑¬)ว”

You give the air in front of you an irritated sigh.

“Are you okay?” Seungmin stops as he’s fixing his food. His brow wrinkles a bit with concern. It’s very cute. “Did I give you too much?”

“No no, I wasn’t sighing at you, Seungmin.” You pick up your chopsticks and situate your food in front of you, but wait for him before you dig into what looks like very good kimchi. “I just…looked at Choonhee’s text. She drives me crazy sometimes.”

“She also drives me crazy. She was very persistent about us meeting each other.”

“She wouldn’t let me say no.”

You both take a bite of food together.

“She’s very lucky it’s a holiday and I could get time away, though she probably would have kept pestering me.” He takes another bite, watching you curiously as you do the same. “Did you want to say no? You didn’t want to come?”

“Did you?”

“I asked you first.”

He’s funny. “I didn’t, only because I don’t really like blind dates. I don’t like going into anything…blind.”

“That’s understandable. I did want to come, but also I didn’t, because dating for me is difficult and sometimes awkward for the other person. But a while ago I told Choonhee I wanted to make more foreign friends. She doesn’t forget things.”

“Does work keep you very busy?” Now seems like the time to really pry. “Is that why dating is so hard?”

“Work is very busy, yes. I feel like I have to be on 100% of the time, and it can be very exhausting.” He takes a big, messy bite of food, then covers his mouth as he tries not to giggle through it. It takes him a few moments before he can speak again. “That’s one reason why it’s difficult.”

“I am glad I came, though.”

“How is your food?” Just as he asks, the server returns to the table with another plate of food. “Oh, I got us something else.”

“More? I don’t know if I can eat what we have here now.” Your eyes widen at the sight of this new plate of food. “Oh!”

Seungmin laughs and serves you a few pieces of gopchang, “sometimes it takes a few tries before you really appreciate something.”

You gingerly pick up a small piece of intestine and examine it. It jiggles weirdly at the end of your chopsticks. “Okay, so I’ve never actually tried it before.”

“Eat!”

You take the bite, hold it in your mouth for a second, then chew.

“No?”

You swallow hard, then shake your head at him. “No.”

“Well, at least you tried it.” He pulls the plate back toward him and takes a few bites. “Eat some kimchi and get the taste out of your mouth.” He laughs at the grimace still stuck on your face.

“It might take more than that,” but you do, and then a long drink of your tea. Your phone buzzes again.

“Tell her that…we have decided to just spend the remainder of the holiday together. And that she shouldn’t worry about us.”

Your face gets hot, even though he’s definitely just goofing around. When you look up at him he’s calmly eating, looking down at the messages that popped up on his own phone.

“I think she’s having fun with us.”

“This time it’s Chan Hyung checking up on me. He is a worrier.”

“That’s sweet of him. Did you tell him you’re in good hands?”

Seungmin nods and laughs, “I did.” His eyes catch the light and sparkle at you as he leans closer across the table. “He will worry until I’m back home, though.”

“Do you live with him?”

“I’m at my parents house for the holiday, but normally yes. Well, nearby. I have three roommates. And the other four, including him, live together. But basically we all live together.”

Each time you ask him a question, the answer makes you a little more confused than if you hadn’t asked anything at all. You sit back in your chair and let out a long sigh, fold your arms across your chest. “That’s a lot of roommates.”

“I’m so used to it, we’ve been together for a while now.”

“I’m gonna run to the restroom, I’ll be back.” You grab your bag and your phone. Seungmin gives you a nod.

Once you manage to find the bathroom, you have a seat on one of the squishy chairs and pull your phone back out. Choonhee’s last text message is still on your lock screen…

Kim Seungmin likes you (ง¬᎑¬)ว

You start typing…

"I can’t seem to figure him out. He’s so sweet and easy to talk to, but why is everything about him so…"

So what? You’re not even sure where this message is going.

"…he’s different?? He’s TOO sweet, too good looking. Help me out here."

Now you wait for a reply, hoping she’s glued to her phone so you’re not stuck in here for too long. Two girls, maybe a little younger than you, walk in while you wait, and both look at you directly as they pass by. One lingers on you and heads to the mirror to fix her makeup, the other disappears into a stall. You keep your eyes on your phone, but you still see her watching you from the corner of your eye.

Buzz buzz

Why are you so paranoid? You better trust me.

You push the call button and wait for her to pick up.

“Annyeeoong!”

“I am not paranoid! You threw me into this and now you’re picking on me.”

“I’m sorry I’m sorry. I’m not trying to pick on you!” She laughs, though.

“Every time I ask him something, I’m more confused,” you lower your voice as the two girls walk by and leave the bathroom.

“Did you google him? I gave you his full name.”

“No, I haven’t googled him. Why would I google him? Is that a joke? Who wears designer jewelry and has seven roommates?” You’re whispering, but trying to convey your irritation at the same time.

She laughs again.

“I have to get back out there before he thinks I got lost.”

“I’m glad you two like each other!”

“BYE”

Now all you can think about is figuring out who he is before you lay eyes on him again. But do you want to know now? Maybe later would be best, well after you’re home safe and the pressure is gone. The last thing you want is to make everything awkward.

But you’re very good at making things awkward.

A few seconds later you pull up the browser on your phone and type out his name. Why is she setting you up with someone you can google in the first place?

K i m S e u n g-

You stop and stare at the screen. No clues pop up in the auto search. It’s a very common name, but…

You finish. You hit ‘go’.

It loads quickly, and the first thing that pops up is his face. HIS face. Seungmin’s sweet face. Only his hair is much darker in this photo. But it’s him. The weird feeling of falling hits; you feel a little lightheaded. You thought he was a little odd and a little too good to be true, but this…

“Oh my god, you set me up with an idol.”

Another person enters the bathroom and you jump. They pay no attention to you, thankfully.

“And he’s five years younger than me.”

A deep breath in, and a long slow breath out. You’re back on your feet and out of the bathroom. Can you even remember where your table is? Yes, there it is. You see the back of Seungmins pretty head…he’s on his phone, texting it looks like.

Another nice, deep breath. Why the hell did she set you up with an idol? You’re not surprised you didn’t know who he was, though. You don’t listen to much pop music; even the kids at school haven’t introduced you to this particular group. The name doesn’t sound familiar, anyway. You have a few confiscated photocards in your desk drawer. You’re sure he’s not one of them, but you can’t wait to get back to school and check now.

You walk back over, calm and cool and not like you were just losing it a little in the bathroom.

“Welcome back!” He smiles as you sit and puts his phone away.

Now you look at him and realize just how good looking he is. Of course he’s an idol, what else could a face like that be? And he’s a main vocalist. He sings. You…kind of sing.

“So, Seungmin…”

He answers with a soft hmm? as he chews his food.

“Do you sing? Or play anything? You said earlier that you liked music.”

He nods and smiles, swallows his bite, “I sing, yes! And I like playing guitar and piano, but I don’t do that as often as I’d like.”

“I would love to hear you sing.” You say it sincerely, because you mean it. His speaking voice is so nice, you’re certain his singing voice is even more beautiful.

“I would love to hear you sing!” He adjusts himself in his chair like he’s trying to get himself closer to you, but there’s nowhere else to go. His face is somehow brighter. “We should do that…we should sing.”

“You wanna sing with me? I doubt I can sing as well as you.”

“We don’t know that!”

You rest your chin in your cupped hands and smile at him. He smiles, too. You think his smile might be your favorite thing about him. “I do know.” But there’s so many things to like.

“Oh,” his head cocks to the side a bit. Another thing you really like, and he does it a lot. He’s staring through you and it feels like he’s hearing every thought that’s currently flying around your brain. “You know?”

“What I don’t know is…” putting it into the right words is difficult for some reason, and your tone of voice has accidentally come out a little cold. You don’t want to come off as rude or ungrateful of his company. You like him, but it’s suddenly become a little bit weird, and very complicated. “I just don’t feel like we…” you stop again to think. You suddenly feel really stupid for talking at all. “I guess I just don’t understand why you seem to…like me.”

All of your insecurities have suddenly jumped to the front of the line, and it’s clouding your vision. The things you were so happy about before are now being pushed down by your own stupid, stupid thoughts.

“Hm?” Seungmin’s face falls a little. He’s sitting still, and for the first time, he’s stopped eating. He can really put away a lot of food for being so slender. “Did I say something wrong? I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize, Seungmin. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just having-“

“Second thoughts.” He says it matter-of-factly; no inflection.

Everything you say now is coming out all wrong. The words in your head and the words coming out of your mouth aren’t matching up. Your heart is starting to pound, and you feel warm, but not in a good way. Not in the cute, blushy way Seungmin was making you feel before.

“Would you like me to take you home? I can get us a car. Or I can get you a car.” He wrings his hands and reaches for his phone.

“No, no don’t do that,” Your chest feels tight and your words almost get caught in your throat. You stop and think about your next words, because right now you’re not doing a great job of speaking. “I’m sorry, I’m really not very good at this. Dating, talking to people, getting my thoughts out properly.”

Seungmin puts his phone down on the table, thinks for a moment… “I do like you. But I haven’t been very honest, so I am very sorry for that. I would like to be honest with you, if you’ll stay.”

You look down at your lap and realize you’ve been squeezing Pochacco the entire time. You release him, run your thumb over him. “Yeah, I do wanna stay.”

His face his confused, innocent, and soft all at once as he stares at you. There’s a little concern there, as well. You can tell he’s wondering what happened in the few minutes you left the table. He also might be nervous about telling you who he is.

He clears his throat and takes a drink, preparing himself to tell you what you already know. You hate making him do this here.

“I know you’re an idol. You don’t have to explain anything.”

Relief washes over his face, and then slowly, realization. “Is that why you’re upset? You left the table…you were okay before that. Please don’t be angry with me.”

“I was just trying to figure you out. And I understand why you were hesitant about it.” You keep your voice as soft as possible, as steady as you can manage. You’re not angry at him. How you could you possibly be mad at him while he’s looking at you like that? “Maybe we can go back to before, when I didn’t know...”

“It’s so hard meeting people genuinely…people who don’t already know who you are.”

There’s a long silence between the two of you, and looking up at him again suddenly feels impossible. You stare down at your blank phone, almost hoping a text message will come through. Something needs to break the tension.

Nothing happens.

You almost feel like crying. Your throat tightens and your eyes start to sting from not blinking. “Can we go somewhere else?” The words finally come out of you. “Somewhere with less people.”

“Yeah, we can.”

____

It’s much colder now. And it’s late; well after midnight. You weren’t expecting the date to go on this long. In fact, you had the night planned for yourself once you got home. A few episodes of the drama you’re currently watching, and maybe a drink or two. Warm, under a big blanket.

But now you’re suddenly starring in your own drama.

Seungmin stands in front of you, blocking the slight breeze. You let out a big yawn.

“I’m sorry I’m keeping you out so late.” He steps a little closer when a gust of wind whips by.

“You’re not,” you try to smile at him, but your face feels a little numb. “I can leave whenever I want to, right?”

“Right.” He nods sharply. “Thank you for not leaving.”

“Would it be inappropriate to ask you back to my apartment?”

“Huh?” His mouth hangs open a little.

“I don’t know anywhere else where we could be alone.”

“Uhm, well, it would be a little inappropriate I guess. But I wouldn’t mind if you asked.”

A car pulls up to the curb next to you.

____

The apartment is not ready for any guests, especially not the celebrity variety. You left a mess on your way out—clothes all over the floor, dishes in the sink. But maybe it’s not as bad you’re imagining. This will strictly be a living room visit. And it won’t be long.

“This feels so strange.” He says as the elevator door slides opens on the 5th floor.

“What does? Going home with someone?”

“Yes.” Another blunt answer. His tone is still playful, even after what you’re putting him through. He follows you until you stop in front of your door and fumble with your keys.

You look back at him as you push open the door, “I won’t keep you here long, I promise.”

It’s not as bad inside as you were imagining. You shake his jacket off and hang it above the not-so-neat row of shoes inside the door. Seungmin slides his off and places them next to yours. “I can make you more coffee if you’d like.”

“Sure, if you’d like me to stay that long.”

“Sit.” You point to the couch and head to the kitchen.

Halfway through your work, you notice him leaning against the doorway of the kitchen. He watches silently. You pretend you don’t see him. Above you the fluorescent light buzzes and flickers a bit. It’s the only light in the kitchen right now. The warmth of the apartment and the smell of coffee brewing brings you back down to earth a bit, and you desperately need that before you start talking again.

Seungmin speaks up first, though. It startles you.

“I’m not really allowed to date.”

“What?” You take both mugs in your hands and walk closer to him.

“I mean, I am…but they prefer we don’t. At least not for a while. I would probably get in trouble if anyone recognized me while we were together earlier.” He takes his mug from you and holds it under his nose.

“Why?” Your mind snaps back to the girl eyeing you in the bathroom. You didn’t even think about it until now.

“Well, I didn’t get permission, for one thing. And it helps with keeping the idol illusion alive if we’re not seen with others like that.”

“I don’t want to get you into any trouble.”

He waves his hand at you, pushes away your words. “It’s okay. I get into trouble all the time.”

“Do you?”

Seungmin nods and smiles as he sips his coffee.

You grin at him.

Now that you’re alone together, finding the right words might come a little easier. The tv is on, volume low, just to break the dead silence in the room. He’s sitting back comfortably on your couch with his coffee to his lips, and his legs loosely crossed. You can’t help but watch them as his foot bounces.

Meanwhile, he’s looking at you with soft (maybe a little tired?) eyes. “You have me to yourself now.” His voice is a little tired, too. It makes him sound flirty and…well, you don’t wanna think about that too much.

A nod is all you can manage before speaks again.

“I like this one.”

“You like what?”

“This drama. I finished it recently.”

The silence is a little less tense now, but the room still feels heavy. “Did you really come out tonight to find a new friend?” You’re sweating. The heat is probably up too high, you need to open a window or something.

“Did you?” Now he’s sitting up a little and he pushes the sleeves of his hoodie up to his elbow.

It’s nice to see more of his skin. “No.” You watch his hands as they rub the denim on his thighs. “I should open a window, it’s a little warm in here.” You can feel his eyes on you as you walk to the other side of the room. It makes you nervous. You push the curtain aside, unlock the window, and slide it up.

The rush of cool air is exactly what you need. Your hear your phone buzz on the side table where you threw it. You pretend you don’t notice it when you get back to his side.

“Choonhee wants you…” he almost sings it. He must know you have no other friends.

You imagine one of the conversations between Seungmin and her; Choonhee would say something to make you sound so great and fun, but you don’t like putting yourself out there and making new friends, so you need little push now and then.

Which is entirely true.

“It’s not her,” you lie, just to throw him off for a moment.

“Oh, is it your next date?” His tone is so flat and dry, but the look on his face tells you he doesn’t really think that. Or maybe he’s not sure, and he wants to be sure.

Instead of answering, you just let your eyes linger on his while you pull open your messages.

Well? Are you home yet? Don’t make me worry

”Yes, I’m home. 'Kim Seungmin (ง¬᎑¬)ว' is here too”

Three bouncing dots pop up the second after you hit send. Probably the fastest she’s ever replied to you.

YOU TOOK HIM HOME WITH YOU??!!

And then another…

ԅ(‾⌣‾ԅ)

And more…

( ˵ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

(͠≖ ͜ʖ͠≖)ε｀●)

◠◡◠(´ ͡༎ຶ ͜ꞈ ͡༎ຶ `)◡◠◡

"OKAY STOP IT", You finally reply

Okay okay sorry but you took him home with you???

”I felt weird asking him, but yes. I also felt weird being out in public when I found out who he was”

OH you knoooow. Okay. Just don’t do anything to him, I kinda forgot to mention he’s a bit younger

”Yeah, I figured that out on my own”

He’s a good boy

”Okay I’m done talking to you tonight”

You throw your phone on the table next to you.

Seungmin readjusts himself so he’s facing in your direction. “Have you watched Hometown Cha Cha Cha?”

There’s far less space between you and him now. His cheeks are pink. It’s still too warm in here.

“I have, yeah. Sorry, I can’t adjust the heat.” You don’t even know why you mentioned the heat. His closeness is throwing you off. You can feel his breath on you.

“I’m okay, this hoodie is just too cozy.” He pushes the sleeves back down and opts for removing it completely. He pulls it off very easily, but the back of his shirt pulls up along with it for a brief moment, showing you a little skin. He catches it quickly and shakes his head to fix his hair.

“I have a song in that one.” He says as he neatly rolls it and places it on the arm of the couch.

“You have a what?” Now you’re distracted my his thin black t-shirt hanging loosely on his shoulders.

He catches you staring at not his face, “a song…in that drama. You heard it I’m sure.”

“Oh, wow…you’re right, I’ve definitely heard you sing, then.” You grab the remote again and scroll until you find YouTube. It takes a stupid long time to load (“you have bad wifi up here” — “thanks, I know”) but once it finally does, you start typing his name into the search bar.

“The song is called Here Always. Your search will be full of lots of other weird things if you only search my name.”

“Oh, how weird?” You search anyway and investigate. “Vlogs…are these official idol vlogs?”

“Yes,” he laughs at that. “I’m filming one right now while on holiday. I didn’t bring my camera with me, though.”

“Yeah, I probably shouldn’t be in your vlog.”

“They’re usually pretty boring anyway.”

You search properly now, throwing the title of the song next to his name. You plan on watching those other videos later.

When you look at him, he has his hands cupped against his cheeks, and he sinks down in the couch a little.

“Are you being shy? You really don’t come off as the shy type.”

“No, I’m fine.” He giggles and relaxes a little.

Now you sit back against the couch, close enough to him that your arms are lightly touching. The video you choose is a clip compilation from the drama, so he at least won’t have to stare at himself as you listen.

Without realizing it, you manage to sink further into your seat as the song plays, and by the time it ends, your cheek is pressed firmly against the fabric on his shoulder. He hasn’t moved, though. So you don’t move. His body is warm and he smells nice, so why should you move? You decide to just stay put and let YouTube choose the next video.

The description says Love Poem, KINGDOM EP8. You can read the names, written in Hangul. Eunkwang, Seungmin, Jongho. You’re pleased with yourself, because your reading comprehension is not as good as it could be.

A soft sigh dances over your ear. You look up, trying not to disturb him too much. Seungmin is sleeping soundly, head back against the couch. You hate to wake him, but he definitely cannot spend the night here.

You want to hear more of his singing, though, so you watch it, and then another, and eventually you lose track of how many Seungmin compilation videos you’ve seen. Group interviews, Seungmin fancams. You almost forget you’re watching videos of the guy who’s sleeping next to you.

But it’s gotten so late. You carefully sit yourself up on your knees and look down on his sleeping face.

“Seungmin…” you whisper. He doesn’t move. His mouth opens a little as he lets out a deep breath, and you can just make out his front teeth against the light pink of his lips. “Seung-“

His eyes open slowly, and he lets out a long, drawn out hmmm before closing his eyes again.

“Hey, you gotta wake up,” you go to place your hand against his forehead, but stop yourself. “Neoneun il-eonaya hae.”

“Your Korean sounds nice,” he opens his eyes again and watches you set your hand back down on the top of the couch. “Say something else.”

You think, not knowing what to say now.” Uh…uhm, neo janeun moseub-i gwiyeowo boyeo.” You speak carefully, maybe a little too carefully, but Seungmin smiles deeply and fully.

And then he laughs a little. A very sleepy laugh. “Gomawo.” He sings out the o at the end little, making it sound even more informal than it should be. “I’m awake. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, I’m glad you’re comfortable. But maybe next time.”

“Maybe next time?”

“You can stay.”

“I can stay?”

You nod, and a brief moment of boldness runs through you. You pick your hand up again and set it against his forehead, pushing his hair up and out of the way. He lets you touch him without protest, in fact, he seems to relax even more under you.

His eyes close, but after a few second, he opens one a little to look at you. “Well?” He says.

“Well…what?”

“I thought you were going to kiss me.”

Your whole body heats up, and you quietly suck in a breath, but you keep your voice from showing how much that knocked you off balance. “Do you want me to kiss you?”

His head moves back and forth a little like he’s thinking about it, and that forces you hand up further into his hair. “Only if you want to.”

You do, so when he closes his eyes again, you carefully lean in and hover just above his lips. You’re not sure when you’ll see him again after tonight, so you want to take in as much of the moment as possible. His eyes open again, and he stares at you. They slowly move down your face until they find your mouth. You quickly close the space and he returns the kiss eagerly, but very gently.

It lasts much longer than you expect it to. He sits up and cups your cheek in his hand as he finds a better position, but it only lasts a few more seconds after that. He pulls away slowly and wipes at his lower lip as he watches you.

No words come to mind, so you just keep quiet and look at him.

“Was that okay?” Seungmin asks. He’s all braces, and the apples of his cheeks are flushed.

“Yeah, that was okay,” You have to force yourself not to go for his mouth a second time. “I’ve never kissed someone with braces before.”

He covers his mouth with the back of his hand, but he still smiles behind them. “Was it weird?”

“No, it wasn’t.” You lean in, move his hand, and kiss him again.

When you pull apart, he rakes his fingers through his hair and relaxes sideways against the couch so his body is still turned toward you. You quietly look at each other; you wish you could read his mind. All that’s going through your head is that this is it. This is all you get. You probably won’t see him again.

Not that he’d purposely ghost you; he doesn’t look the type. But his lifestyle doesn’t seem to allow for the type of relationship you want. You’re way too clingy for this.

“How often do you come home on holidays?”

“Not often enough,” he looks at you like he now knows what you’re thinking. “I’m sorry.”

You place your hand on the back of his neck and pull him into another kiss. And then a phone goes off.

“Oh it’s me,” Seungmin takes his phone from his back pocket and looks at his screen, “I’m sorry, I have to answer this.”

“It’s alright, go ahead.”

He gets up from the couch and answers the call. You can tell from Seungmins tone and language that whoever it is is older, probably one of his roommates, most likely the same one who texted him hours ago. You try not to pry, but it’s impossible not to listen in this small apartment, and it’s useless to ignore when you’re only getting half of the conversation. Your brain just naturally wants to fill in the rest.

“….mos han geo…mianhae…”

He turns and faces you, gives you a shy smile.

“Na jigeum jib-e ganeun jung-Iya”

A few more exchanged words and he ends the call. He returns to the couch, but doesn’t sit again, so you stand with him. He grabs his hoodie and throws it back on without a word, but he does look at his phone again.

“Do you have a ride home?”

Seungmin smiles warmly at you and steps closer, “yes, I have a ride on the way now.”

You assumed he did. He probably has people ready to wait on him at anytime of the day or night. You assume. Honestly, you have no idea what an idols private life is really like. Except for this date, of course.

“I should head down to the lobby, it shouldn’t take long for them to arrive.”

“Can I go with you? To wait in the lobby, I mean.”

He’s halfway to his shoes when he stops and turns to you, “yes, I would like that.”

____

It’s chilly down here, but it’s empty and quiet. You sit closely together on the sofa while he shows you a video on his phone.

“They always steal my phone for livestreams and videos, so I have so much on here.”

The video was taken by one of the other members in his group, because Seungmin is in this one. They’re backstage goofing off with each other, eating, taking selfies, taking photos of each other.

“When is this from?”

“Three months ago. We were in Busan.” He goes back to his album and pulls up a photo he took of himself and another member. “This is from the same night.”

“I like your makeup here,” you zoom in on his face, and then back out. “You have very pretty eyes.”

He smiles and rubs his shoulder into yours a little.

“Who is this with you?”

“That’s Chan, the one who just called me. He’s our leader, and he takes his responsibility to us very seriously.”

“Well, I’m glad he cares about you so much.”

Just as he locks his phone, a notification comes through. His ride is pulling up in front of the apartment building, and it’s time for him to leave.

“Seungmin…” you stand with him and walk toward the doors. “I know you’re probably very busy, but would it be okay if I kept in touch? And I understand if that wouldn’t work.” You feel very bold just bringing it up, but if he doesn’t, you’ll be left wondering until Choonhee finds out for you. You need to know now.

“I don’t think we’d make very good friends,” he laughs and grabs your arm gently, tugging you a little closer.

You pull him the rest of the way into a hug and hold him there for as long as possible. “We wouldn’t.”

“Goodnight. Thank you for not leaving in the middle of our date.”

You squeeze him a little tighter, thinking about how you’ve never had a first date where you actually had difficulty letting the person leave.

“Wow,” when you finally let him go he stares down at you, “nice hug. I will get your number from Choonhee, and I will text you. If that’s alright.”

“You better.”

“Goodnight.”

He turns, walks through the doors, and disappears into the back of a car. And then he’s gone.

You wait there for a few more moments before heading back up the elevator and into your apartment.

His scent is lingering in the warm room. You close the door behind you and turn to kick off your shoes. His denim jacket is hanging on the hook in front of you.

[neonthewrite]

The Office Fae

The next prompt was Tangled, and I ended up with a brand new character for this one. He's fun so far. I'm enjoying his very gremlin energy. I hope you all like him too!

~~~

Life in an office building generally worked well for Simon, despite technically being a house fae. The rules could be fuzzy on that front, with so many humans coming and going every day. Sure, there wasn’t a singular family loving the place and cherishing their lives there, but a lot of humans from many families liked the building and their jobs there well enough to make the energy inviting. Something about flexible hours, good wages, and a solid benefits package made for a harmonious office with plenty of memories–some friendly, some dramatic, even some spicy memories.

Plus there was a vending machine. Simon came for the vibes originally, but he absolutely stayed for the vending machine. At a modest five and three quarter inches tall, he had easy access to a good variety of things in portions that lasted him days.

Another house fae rule he bent–it wasn’t precisely a bowl of cream left out for him specifically, but nobody could expect that these days. Keeping the vending machine stocked was close enough, and if the light bulbs and printer cartridges in the building all lasted longer than they should, well, Simon earned his keep. He probably saved them hundreds on the annual operations budget.

Work always slowed down around the end of winter, aside from some buzzing over in the accounting office. All the holiday parties were done and the potluck food all taken home from the break room fridges. Simon planned for it and handled it well, though things could get cold with the shorter hours and heat on less to make up for the emptier office.

To that end, Simon wintered in the ceiling of the server room. The servers, bulkier and taller than a human, stood clustered in a side room and were never turned off. Blinking lights of green and red and blue twinkled on each machine, colors filtering into the ceiling along with the ample warmth those hulking obelisks gave off.

With so much downtime, he found himself perched near an opening in the ceiling, a spot where the tile had broken off long ago, and watched the server lights flicker on the tangled mess of multicolored cables that ran between them. It was a game of his to trace each cable from end to end with his eyes, idly kicking his bare, grey-skinned feet (his skin had shifted to a tasteful, cool grey a few years ago after an office refresh had updated all the paint). Long, slender fingers absently braided silky hair the color of faded ballpoint ink while he scanned the cables with eyes reminiscent of the shocking, dreaded blue of a computer on its way out.

Most house fae took on colors in equal parts camouflage and defense. Simon would be tough to spot if he happened to be out in the open near a human, but if someone did see him, humans never liked seeing that blue. So his eyes would probably protect him.

Not that he ever intended to test that. As much as he liked his many many humans and their water cooler chatter, Simon was realistic. They wouldn’t like him much even if he shared their scale. All his features were a bit elongated, just enough to seem strange and other. He only wore flowing pants made of scrap fabric and he ate bugs sometimes. Humans would call him scary or freaky or any number of words they had for things they didn’t like, and if his eyes couldn’t scare them off he’d be in danger of a rolled up magazine or a dusty phone book.

He’d stayed hidden for a long time, and he anticipated many games of look-at-cables in his future, all without humans being a bother.

Of course, until they were a slight bother anyway. Simon paused his movements and tensed when the door opened abruptly. Light flooded in and he lost track of the cable he was tracing when he looked over, grateful for his higher vantage point and the human tendency to ignore background details.

Two figures stood there, one familiar and one not. One was Tom, a human whose limbs gangled a bit but whose middle had padded out after so many years in a desk job. His bald spot glowed with light from the hallway, and his rumpled t-shirt sported a band name Simon thought he recognized. From what Simon knew, Tom was every bit an IT master and a vital cog in keeping the office running smoothly. He didn’t have to dress any higher than casual.

The other human was a new face. A woman, probably younger than Tom by a couple decades. Her dark skin contrasted with his pale complexion. Her hair, coily and thick, grew longer atop her head though it was tapered close at the sides. She wore a smart blouse and slacks, which Simon immediately recognized as the sort of thing one wore to a job interview, or one’s first day at work.

Tom waved a hand at the servers whirring away in the room. “Servers in here. Probably not gonna need to be in here a ton, but y’know. If something needs a reset…”

The woman nodded and smiled faintly as she scanned the room. “What are the chances I can fix up some of those cables?”

She said it as a joke. Simon didn’t find it funny at all. Tom did. He laughed. “Now that I get someone to pass tasks like that along to, I imagine I can convince the bossman to let me schedule a maintenance day. Now, let’s get you some of your equipment…”

The door closed and the humans walked away, and Simon cared not at all for their conversation or the rest of the onboarding for this new IT interloper. She wanted to organize the cables, which simply would not do. Simon stalked back to his makeshift camp to get his pack.

This new hire was simply not a good fit, and he’d do what he could to stop her horrible plan.

[disorganised-bagel]

hello hello :) here is my rtc secret santa for @kittycatsfromzolar :D i didn't know what you'd want so i wrote some spacerap because you said you liked them :D i really hope this is okay :')

happy holidays :D

@rtc-secret-santa-event

Ricky looked down at the piano before him, gently running a fingertip over the keys.

Choir practice had just wrapped up for the day, the other members all saying their goodbyes and getting ready to leave. As she did every time, Ocean had briefly stopped by him on her way out to remind him to practice (wasn't that what these meetings were for?), and compliment his skills at the instrument.

It had been a surprise to the others that he could play the piano, having not had a chance to bring it up before being relegated to tambourine, but they had been more than happy to allow him to switch instruments if he wanted to, as a part of helping to include him more as a part of the choir.

The group had become much more tight-knit following the Cyclone, and as a result that meant that he was actually being treated as part of the team, which was nice.

"Yo! Ricky!"

Ricky looked up, blinking, having been broken out of his stupor by a voice addressing him (he still wasn't used to people interrupting his thoughts by actually talking to him, though he couldn't say it was unwelcome).

Misha had apparently lagged behind the others, remaining stood in the middle of the room, backpack slung casually over one shoulder.

Smiling, Ricky waved.

"Hi Misha," he said using his AAC device, which sat on his lap.

Misha grinned as he approached, looking between Ricky and the piano.

"You play piano madwickedawesome!" he said with a starry-eyed expression, bouncing on his heels. "Almost as dope as squeeze-keys."

"Accordion," Ricky corrected, flushing a little at the compliment. "And thank you! I love playing music."

Misha nodded enthusiastically, and Ricky noted the way he was fiddling slightly with the cuffs of his sleeves.

"You okay?" he asked, tilting his head a little towards Misha, who continued nodding.

"Yes, yes, I just... have a question," he gestured towards the piano. "I have been working on my next sick track, and I thought it could be epic to have some piano instrumentals, if you would be down?"

Eyes widening slightly, Ricky nodded eagerly, grinning.

"Sure!" he replied, eliciting a quiet 'yes!' from Misha. "But also, if you wanted, maybe I could try and teach you some piano? Since, y'know."

He waved a hand at the piano he was sat at.

Misha gasped, hands flapping slightly in excitement.

"Dude! That would be so dope! Thank you so much!" he said. "Only if you are sure, though?"

"Of course!"

At that, Misha quickly grabbed a chair from a nearby desk, pulling it up beside the piano bench that Ricky was sat on.

With Misha's permission, Ricky gently took his right hand and laid it across the keys, putting it in the correct position, before copying it with his own and beginning to go through the basics.

Misha proved to be a quick learner, easily mimicking Ricky's movements and picking it up - even attempting the sheet music that had been left in the stand (though he struggled to read the annotations that Ocean had scrawled around the staves).

He was also a good listener, encouraging Ricky to tell him about himself and his interests as he copied his playing.

After a while of this, upon finishing the general summary of Zolar lore that he had been giving Misha (there was nowhere near enough time to get too far into the intricacies of Zolarian society, but hopefully at a later date. Misha seemed invested, at least), Ricky realised that he had been rambling slightly, and decided to encourage Misha to talk, too.

"I'm interested how the piano will fit into a rap song," he raised his eyebrows, curious. Misha looked up from the C key he was pressing repeatedly, eyes lighting up.

"It is actually not rap!" he said excitedly. "I have been branching out into new genres, yo! Nobody can put Misha Bachynskyi in a box! Have you heard any of my new stuff?"

Ricky frowned slightly, as he shook his head.

Admittedly, he'd been meaning to keep up with Misha's 'BadEgg' YouTube channel, but it kept slipping his mind.

Misha didn't seem to mind though, smile remaining wide.

"I have been trying guitar," he switched to repeatedly pressing the D key. "Sounds sick."

"I should check it out, then," Ricky nodded, typing with one hand as he absentmindedly played a simple melody with the other.

"Yes!" Misha nodded, before gasping, eyes wide with excitement as he suddenly pulled his phone out of his pocket. "Actually! I should have the song I have been working on here somewhere..."

He began scrolling through his audio recordings, which, from what Ricky could see from where he was sitting, were named things ranging from words in Ukrainian that he didn't understand, to stuff like 'orphan a hole diss track' (Ricky remembered that one. Ocean had been horrified at all the colourful language Misha'd managed to use in the chorus).

Eventually, he stopped at one titled 'BADEGGS NEXT SICK DROP YO' with several fire emojis, and pressed play.

Immediately, despite what Misha had been saying, Ricky was still caught off-guard at the extreme shift in genres from his other music. True to his word, it was very different to the intense, overly-autotuned rap that he had otherwise been creating.

Instead, Ricky was nodding his head along to the gentle strumming of the guitar chords, Misha's low voice singing in Ukrainian over it. Admittedly, the audio mixing needed a little work, but Ricky found himself smiling softly as he listened, this moment suddenly feeling oddly intimate, despite the fact that he couldn't understand the words being spoken.

Despite how different it was from the other things he'd heard from him, it felt very Misha. Just... passion, not rage, he supposed.

Glancing up at Misha, he saw him already looking back at him, eyes softer than he'd ever seen them (Ricky wasn't used to being looked at that way. He thought he might like it). He was smiling too, tooth gap on full display, and Ricky almost found it comical, that this was Uranium's alleged 'bad boy' he was sitting beside.

Eventually, the last few notes of the track played out, and Misha shoved his phone back into his pocket, eager grin back on his face.

"So! What did you think?" he asked. "I would like your feedback. You know this stuff."

Flushing a little, Ricky signed a quick 'thank you', before thinking for a second.

"I liked it," he nodded a little, watching as Misha pressed down a chord on the piano again. He really was picking it up quickly. "It was different, but in a good way."

"Yes!" Misha pumped a fist in the air. "That is what I was going for. Thank you, Space Jesus!"

Ricky beamed at the nickname, one that had managed to stick for a while now, and still managed to fill Ricky with warmth every time he heard it.

"I think that piano would really take it to the next level, you know?" Misha added, leaning his entire elbow on the keys, before grimacing slightly at the discordant noise it made. Ricky nodded. "Dude, this is gonna be so sick! BadEgg and Space Jesus' epic new collab! The world is not ready, man!"

"Hell yeah!" Ricky grinned in response, raising a hand, which Misha eagerly met with a fistbump.

At that moment, however, Ricky's eyes caught on the clock hanging from the classroom wall, and he almost had to do a double-take. How had they been in there for nearly two hours?

Noticing his sudden shift in demeanour, Misha turned quickly in his seat (almost causing it to topple over), following his gaze to the clock, before sighing.

"Ah," he said, and Ricky nodded, suddenly feeling a wave of disappointment washing over him. "Time passed so quickly, yo. Should probably be getting out of here, huh?"

He stood up and began moving the chair back over to where it came from, rearranging the classroom to how it had been before practice (though he was careful not to disturb Ricky's crutches, which were leaned against a desk nearby).

"Thank you for helping me out, man!" Misha added, grabbing his backpack from where he'd dumped it on the floor and slinging it back over his shoulder. "You are very wise."

Ricky felt the corners of his mouth tugging up as he began packing away his sheet music, stopping for a second to type a response.

"No problem," he thought for a moment. "If you want, maybe you could come over to mine sometime? I have a keyboard at home." A pause. "Though... my cats chew on the cables a lot so I'm not entirely sure how functional it is anymore."

"Dude, that would be so sick!" Misha gasped, bouncing on his heels as he beamed at Ricky. "Thank you so much!"

Ricky returned the smile, and for a few beats they both remained in silence, before Misha suddenly leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

However, Ricky barely had a chance to process it, his face flushing bright red as Misha cleared his throat, suddenly avoiding eye contact.

"See you tomorrow, dude!" he said, pointing finger guns at him, which Ricky dazedly returned as Misha turned on his heel and left.

Then, after a few seconds, he smiled.

Maybe he was a bigger BadEgg fan than he thought.

[imogenkol]

Winter Wonderland at The Lodge

words: 2.1k warnings: none tags: holiday fluff, werewolf girlfriend acts like a puppy

okay so I may have cheated and combined a few prompts, but I really liked the idea of having a small little holiday fic for them because I used to do it every year. The prompts are: snowball fight, kiss under the mistletoe, and cuddle in front of the fireplace requested by @adelaidedrubman @inafieldofdaisies @aceghosts @cassietrn thank you all so much, hope you don’t mind!

Nadya reveled in the wonderful sensation of snow beneath her boots. The sound was immensely satisfying, like all of the times she went out of her way to step on a fallen autumn leaf just to hear that one of a kind, delicate crunch, only now it was every step on the mountain trail. Not enough wolves or game had cleared the path of white powder, so the human trudged on through it with a beaming smile that not many understood in this particular weather. 

The last time Nadya had been in the snow she was nearly too young to fully understand it. Blurred memories surfaced as a light flurry came down around her, the tiny snowflakes melting almost instantly once they landed on her shoulders. She recalled a lumpy clump of ice in her palm that she had attempted to mold into a snowball, but lacked any coordinated technique given that her hands were so tiny. She kept trying, but it annoyed her how fast her fingers went painfully numb until, eventually, she just gave up. A shiver accompanied the memory and Nadya adjusted her beanie and pulled her coat tighter over the layers she wore to keep the winter’s sharp bite at bay. 

A soft rustle in the trees drew her attention. Nadya scanned the woods, but couldn’t see much in the dense white landscape. The trail didn’t go near any patrol routes, so she doubted it was a werewolf. Even if it was, they would give her a wide berth out of courtesy. Jayde made sure of that. Must be a deer or some other critter scavenging for scraps. She pulled her camera out of her bag and continued on. 

Nadya didn’t keep track of all the photos she took, but she started to wonder if she would run out of all the film she received as an early Christmas gift. The magical winter forest was just too beautiful not to appreciate both in person and behind the lens of her camera. From the sugar dusted landscape to large paw prints along the trail, Nadya captured it all. She was so engrossed, in fact, that she almost hadn’t noticed the snap of a twig close by, soon followed by another several paces from the first.

Whatever it may be, it was moving fast.

This time she felt certain that something out there watched her. The feeling crept up her spine and caused a deeper shiver than the cold did. Nadya lowered her camera and searched the woods around her once again. Her instinct felt too strong to ignore and she did not appreciate being stalked. 

“I can hear you,” she called out. “Do you need something?”

Silence overtook the forest. 

Nadya backed away as she tried not to let unease settle too heavily in her gut. Perhaps it was only a deer. She couldn’t imagine any werewolf would dare toy with her like this. 

The human was about to turn around and walk back up the trail towards the Lodge when her legs connected with something large and soft behind her. Nadya jumped back with a startled yelp. She flipped around to see a massive white wolf stood in her path, tail wagging and tongue lolling out in a wolfish grin. It had been her all along.

“Are you serious?” Nadya yelled, though laughter broke through her irritation. 

Jayde sat on her haunches and looked far too pleased with herself. The stark white color of her fur blended seamlessly with their surroundings. She probably didn’t even need to try that hard to slink around unnoticed in this weather. Nadya never would have spotted her at a distance.

“You scared me, you know,” she complained and put her camera away.

Jayde let out a short bark and bowed playfully as if she were an energetic puppy and not a werewolf who could rip a grown man to shreds in seconds flat.

“That’s how you wanna do this, huh?” Nadya bent down and scooped up a handful of snow. Unlike her past self, her hands were bigger and much more deft now. She easily shaped a perfect sphere of snow. The wolf barked again and dodged in the blink of an eye, but Nadya had already launched the snowball in her direction and it impacted with a dull thud. With a triumphant laugh, she said “I might not be a softball lesbian, but I still have damn good aim!”

Jayde frolicked around her and Nadya scrambled to make another snowball. She feinted left, but Nadya anticipated the move. All of their training sessions taught her what to expect from Jayde, even in a play fight. This time, the clump of snow connected with her face and she shook it off with an indignant snort.

“I know all your tricks by now,” Nadya boasted and quickly sent another volley at her.

They went back and forth – the werewolf running in sporadic circles to avoid incoming attacks as the human used tree trunks as cover while she built her arsenal. Snow now caked the thick white fur of Jayde’s coat, making her look even fluffier than usual. She could pass as a polar bear, Nadya thought. She landed another hit and realized Jayde had enough of losing. 

Nadya saw it coming. “Don’t do it!” she shouted, but had no power to stop her girlfriend’s retaliation. 

Jayde leapt and her massive wolf body tackled the human into a pile of soft powder. Nadya’s startled cry became a giggle, which quickly turned into uncontrollable laughter as Jayde’s snout poked at all of her ticklish spots. She tried to wrestle her head away, but Jayde was relentless. Then Nadya wrapped her hands around her muzzle and firmly clamped it shut, causing an indignant growl to rumble in the wolf’s chest. 

“What are you gonna do now?” she challenged.

Jayde tried to shake her grip loose, but Nadya held on tighter, forcing her to use one of her giant paws to pry the girl’s hands off. Nadya knew full well that Jayde needed to be gentle with her and she took full advantage of that, shrugging her claws away. Jayde knew it, too. After a frustrated huff out of her nose, another more intimidating growl vibrated throughout her whole body like a clap of thunder, but it had no effect on the human at all. Nadya simply cocked a brow and placed a quick kiss on the werewolf’s nose. That shut her up fast. 

However, just when Nadya was about to claim victory, Jayde’s eyes twinkled mischievously and she plopped herself down right on top of her like a Great Dane who thinks it’s a lap dog. Nadya became completely pinned to the ground, sinking further into the pile of freezing snow that melted rapidly under their combined heat. She lay there groaning for a few moments before the weight became too much. 

“Alright, alright. Truce?” she suggested in a strained voice. 

Jayde nodded and stood up at the same time Nadya released her muzzle. The girl sat up and shook her head with an exasperated sigh, staring into the glowing amber eyes before her. There was an anticipated pause. 

“Well, hello,” Nadya finally greeted with a giggle and held her arms out.

The white wolf immediately fell into her embrace, nuzzling against the human and knocking her beanie askew. Nadya ran her hands through her fur, enjoying the soft, insulated warmth of her wolf form. Jayde was definitely built for this kind of weather. It made Nadya want to curl up with her somewhere quiet in the pines with the smell of campfire smoke in the breeze, but the melted snow had started to soak into the layers of her clothes. She shivered again. This time her teeth chattered as she held the wolf closer for comfort. Jayde whined in concern. 

“Yeah,” Nadya agreed and reluctantly pulled away to stand up. “Maybe we should head back. I think I need to rest by the fire.” 

That idea brightened the wolf’s demeanor. Her jaws carefully snatched onto Nadya’s sleeve, pulling her in the direction of The Lodge. Nadya chuckled again and eagerly followed. Just in time, too, because the snow storm returned with a vengeance by the time they got back indoors.

They went to their room first so that Nadya could shed her wet clothes and Jayde to change back into her human form. For Jayde, the process barely took a minute, two if she hadn’t shifted in a while. To this day, it fascinated Nadya to see. The ease with which she flowed from one form to the other and back again. Her breaking bones seemed to bother her as little as cracking joints. 

Nadya always loved to touch her after a shift – to lace their fingers together, hold her close, and feel the residual wild heat of the animal that still lingered just beneath the surface of her skin. If she looked closely, she could see shimmers of gold in the fibers of her midnight blue eyes. That’s what she loved the most. And Nadya knew how to draw the wolf back out whenever she wanted, too.  

“Did you look up?” she asked, lingering halfway out of their room as they started towards The Den. 

Jayde flashed a crooked grin. “Didn’t need to. I could smell mistletoe from down the hall.”

Almost as soon as Jayde left for patrol that morning, Nadya opened the package she had hidden in the closet and hung it right above the doorway. She knew if she didn’t act fast, Jayde in all her romantic tendencies would beat her to it. For once, Nadya wanted to jump the gun for their first real Christmas season together. 

Without further hesitation, Nadya leaned in. Even the way Jayde kissed her felt more intense after a turn. Jayde’s lips were warm enough to chase away any chill. She grabbed onto the girl’s hips with retrained strength, but her fingers still dug desperately into her skin. Her passionate cadence had that underlying primal hunger, which compelled a human like Nadya to surrender to it, but she was well accustomed to the desire of a wolf and knew how to calm its restless spirit when needed. A gentle caress down the sides of Jayde’s neck drew out a low, inhuman sound similar to a growl, but not quite as harsh. A submissive sound, Nadya thought. It slowed the ardent push and pull into something more tender, dulling both of their minds in an utterly blissful stupor. 

As they pulled away, Nadya smiled at the bright golden irises that stared back at her. In a blink, they faded. 

“You did that on purpose,” Jayde said.

Nadya gazed at her not so innocently. “Will you make me cocoa?”

The blonde laughed and pulled her girlfriend along. “Anything for you.”

With a winter storm raging outside, The Den started to gain more wolves in search of leisure time. Some were at the bar, others at the pool tables, but Jayde and Nadya claimed their usual spot right in front of the fireplace. Flames crackled and popped as they danced against the blackened brick. 

Nadya sat in between Jayde’s legs on an old leather couch, leaning back against her chest and happily sipping on a steaming cup of hot chocolate. Jayde always went above and beyond to make it gourmet style for her. Fancy chocolate, vanilla, cinnamon, homemade whipped cream, festive sprinkles. Most importantly, she made it with love. It put those cheap packets to shame and Nadya practically lived off of those every winter at her old apartment.

“How was patrol?” Nadya asked, placing her hand on Jayde’s knee and giving it a warm squeeze.

“Boring as hell,” she answered and nuzzled against the side of Nadya’s head in much the same way she had as a wolf earlier. “Until I found a no good human on the wrong side of the property line.”

“I hope you took care of that,” Nadya replied with mock-concern. 

Jayde hummed into the curve of her human’s neck. “I’m afraid she’ll keep causing me trouble.”

The brunette scoffed. “Not nearly as much trouble as you give her.”

“Well, there’s a new year coming. Who knows what might happen?”

A warm, content grin came across Nadya’s face at the hope she heard in her girlfriend’s voice. Almost as if Jayde actually looked forward to another year. Perhaps she did. It certainly felt that way when her arms tightened around Nadya’s waist as they watched the fire together. 

“As long as you stay with me, I think it’ll all work out, Jay.” 

“I think so too, love,” she agreed softly.

tag list (ask to be added or removed!): @florbelles @marivenah @simonxriley @shegetsburned @voidika @kyber-infinitygems @v0idbuggy @eloquentmoon @statichvm @socially-awkward-skeleton @carlosoliveiraa @risingsh0t @unholymilf @thedeadthree @jackiesarch @gwynbleidd

[cosmos-coma]

Cran-Elderberry Wine

A/N: Happy Midwinter! Here's a quick little fic for the ever lovely @beardedladyqueen Enjoy a little holiday fic featuring our favorite group of friends from Blood and Vengeance!

Pairing: Dettlaff Van der Eretein x Reader

Words: 1273

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“Amelia remind me how big ‘diced’ is?” You asked as you helped prep dinner, your eyes watering at the onion below you.

“About half what you think it is” she replied quickly, “I’ve seen what you think dicing is and it’s far from it,” the redhead said with a laugh as she skillfully chopped through several vegetables.

“Hey..!” You laughed, pointing your knife at her, “I can cook just fine…!”

Amelia grinned, her nose wrinkling with her teasing smile, “Let’s just keep you as the Sous Chef for now, yeah…?” 

You shook your head, and smiled as you crawled out your words, “Yes, chef….” You turned back to your dreadful onion and quickly began to dice away. Though your cuts were nowhere near as consistent as Amelia’s, you thought they looked pretty good! 

You broke the working silence as you brought the onions over to the pot, “So, do you know what Regis and Dettlaff have planned…? I was told I shouldn’t even go upstairs if it’s not an emergency…. And Regis’s lab is a little too weird for me to go snooping around in any way. I never know what I’m gonna find.”

The redhead grinned and nodded, “I agree with you there…. I believe Regis said he wanted to brew up something special for all of us to have with dessert, but I can’t say I know anything about Mister Dettlaff’s plans. I figured you knew.”

You shook your head, “usually Dettlaff’s not very secretive.. so it must mean a great deal to him if only Regis knows-“ 

“-If Regis knows….”

“Mmm, That’s a good point…” 

Amelia shrugged, “Shouldn’t be too long before we find out tough. Both men agreed they wouldn’t be late for dinner, so no more than an hour now,” She said as she checked the clock ticking away on the wall. 

You were beyond thankful for the distraction of cooking, otherwise waiting the full hour would have taken every available ounce of willpower. But as the pots of steaming food sat beautifully on the table and Amelia rang the bell for dinner you were more anxious than ever. You couldn’t wait to see what everyone had planned.

“Hello, little moth…” rumbled Dettlaff’s familiar voice in your ear, you hadn’t even heard him approaching, but- then again, that was normal. 

“Hello, my love…” you hummed happily as warm arms wrapped around you from behind, pulling you flush against him. You leaned your head back against his shoulder, grinning wide as you met those brilliant blue eyes.

His own smile tugged at his expression, just a sliver of white teeth poking out beneath his lips, “Happy Midwinter, little Moth…” he mumbled against your lips in a soft kiss.

Your heart fluttered in your chest as you returned the kiss, “Happy Midwinter, Dettlaff” you hummed as you turned in his arms to face him “Did you finish your surprise? Do… you think we could go take a peek??” You asked with an exciting bounce. 

The higher vampire laughed quietly, the noise filling your heart to its absolute brim, “Sorry, Darling. No special treatment for you this time. But I promise it’s worth the wait” 

You frowned, only causing him to chuckle again, “Come on, Darling, the faster we sit down for dinner the faster we can get to the surprise. 

The four of you sat down around the full dinner table, an array of wonderful scents greeting you with every turn of your head. Dinner was phenomenal thanks to you and (mostly) Amelia. It was the most lavish meal you’d ever had in your life and not 5 minutes after finishing were you already looking forward to the leftovers. 

While you waited for the food to cool enough to put away it was finally time for the grand surprise.

“Oh! I’ve got to go get the dessert! Just give me a moment, I’ll bring it right up!” Said Amelia as she raced toward the kitchen. 

“Ah, I believe that means it’s time for my surprise as well. I’ll also meet you two upstairs, okay?” Regis said with a warm smile as he stood, “Just don’t go spoiling the surprise, okay? We’ll be there shortly.” He teased and turned quickly toward his lab. 

“I guess that just leaves us… shall we?” Your loving bat asked with an extended hand.

“We shall.”

——

The four of you stood outside the tall wooden doors of the grand library, their intricate engravings inviting you to open them up to the world. 

“Is everyone ready…?” Dettlaff asked.

Amelia stood on one side of the group, the tray of pastries and sweets held proudly in her hands. Regis stood right beside her, a crate of dark purple bottles held close to his chest, just waiting to be cracked open. 

And then there was you, standing on the end of the group, pure excitement gleaming from your eyes as you watched Dettlaff raise his hands to the door, “Ready..! Come on, my love I want to see..!” 

With a soft rumbling laugh, Dettlaff nodded and pushed open the heavy doors with ease revealing a positively heavenly sight. 

Where do you even begin? Light flooded through the two-story tall windows, their bright red curtains pulled aside to light up the festive room. A grand pine tree- no more than 10 feet tall- stood proudly in the bright curved reading nook the windows provided. It was decorated from head to toe with vivid ornaments and ribbons in every color you could want. Swaths of other ribbons and greenery swirled and twirled around the railings of staircases and the upper floor, and small wreaths and bouts of mistletoe hung in archways and between shelves upon shelves of old books. Carefully placed candles, and a small crackling fire left the rest of the room in a warm orange glow, causing the delicate ornaments hanging from the ceiling to shimmer in their light. Fake snow dusted your small tree, giving it a sprinkling of natural decoration that fell down onto the pile of presents sitting below it.

It was perfect. 

“Oh Dettlaff…” you gasped, holding your chest as you stepped into the otherworldly room. He must’ve been running and fluttering around as smoke around all day to get this done. And it couldn’t have been more worth it. 

Even Regis and Amelia looked amazed, neither of them having guessed what absolute grandeur the dark-haired man would go to. 

“Dettlaff, my friend, I do believe you’ve outdone yourself….” Said Regis in astonishment.

“Oh, I’ll second that. This is gorgeous..!” Amelia gasps, eyes full of wonder and bright lights.

“It’s perfect, Dettlaff…” you grinned, a few tears threatening to spring from your eyes as you took his hand. “I… I don’t know what else to say… Thank you, my love. You made Midwinter everything I had hoped it would be…” 

A warm smile lit up his face as he leaned in to kiss your hand, “I’m happy you like it, little Moth. That’s all I wanted….” 

Surrounded by all your friends and loved ones, you were positive this was going to be the happiest Midwinter celebration in the entire continent.

“Now, what say we crack open a bottle of the Cran-Elderberry wine I made and start opening some presents, hm?” 

“And you promise it doesn’t have anything… potentially fatal in them…?” Amelia said warily, very aware of the Mandrake cordial he usually likes to make. 

“Hmmm. Well, let me think-“ he paused in thought, falling into laughter as Amelia frowned with all the ferocity of an angry Bulldog. “I promise… I promise I was very careful when I made it. Now let’s get to celebrating.”

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[un-unavoidableanxiousball]

✨ Meowpheus ✨

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Masterlist

Prompt used: Bite, Flashbacks

Rating: Teen and Up

Fandom: The Sandman

Pairing: Dream of The Endless/Hob Gadling

Characters: Hob Gadling, Dream of The Endless, random OC Patricia created just for this

Tags: hurt/comfort, possible out of character,

! Warnings ! : flashback (if I succeeded) of an ambush (though it's probably more of a subtext), blood

Word count: 1868

This is one hell of a slippery slope, I swear.

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New Year's Eve is coming up.

Hob has a love-hate relationship of sorts with this holiday. Well... he doesn't have anything against the holiday itself, but what it entails — fireworks. 

It was the sounds that bothered him. That's also the reason for his near half-century hatred of poppers or bang snaps. Reminded him a bit too much of artillery shells bursting in the air. But after his participation in The Great War and WWII?

(However brief that one was. It got too dangerous too fast. Sue him for not wanting a part in that.)

He had found out the hard way that sudden flashes of light have joined "Hob's private party of various PTSD triggers".

He can certainly try to avoid getting triggered. But one can only go so far out of their way to do so. Been there, done that. 

Because surely a notorious tendency to move out of cities around New Year's Eve is such a fantastic habit. Heading to the closest available secluded and unpopulated areas can be a nightmare. There's traffic and weather to consider, and ughh, the iced-over roads. All in all not really ideal in the long run.

Nowadays, at times like this, he opted to staying inside and listening to music or other media with his noise cancelling headphones.

He'd stay holed up in his apartment. High stock of food? — some leftovers from Christmas Dinner, but most just from his excessive grocery runs for Christmas — ✓Check. 

Hob is sure to avoid any reasons to go outside. Whether he succeeds or not is a whole other thing. 

He did actually pick up the habit of listening to music when outdoors. It helps. It's not foolproof, that's for certain, but if it works - it works.

Nonetheless there are moments when taking off those headphones is simply polite and right thing to do. 

Like today.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Dream had found himself on high alert the second Hob had gotten out of bed. There was a tension to him that Dream hasn't seen before. He tried his best to provide comfort for his friend, but it didn't seem to be helping much. 

The entire time the air between them was charged with uncertainty and apprehension. Perhaps Hob can read him - even in cat form - like an open book. It shouldn't be surprising. After all, by their sixth meeting, in 1889, Hob already saw more than Dream had liked or let on at the time. The human hadn't even been afraid to speak his mind.

Dream witnessed how throughout the day it was getting worse. To an unobservant individual nothing would have been amiss. But Dream has known Hob longer, than any human ever could, therefore he saw those changes with no difficulty. Hob lead fewer conversations with even fewer words and little Hob-like expressiveness. 

Dream lazily follows Hob's movement. 

When push came to shove, it took mere seconds for Hob to cave. 

✿︎✿︎✿︎✿︎✿︎✿︎✿︎✿︎✿︎✿︎✿︎✿︎✿︎✿︎✿︎✿︎✿︎✿︎✿︎✿︎✿︎✿︎✿︎✿︎

Back and forth between the fridge, the oven and the cupboards. 

A melody softly escapes the immortal's lips now and again. Not unfamiliar, but Dream won't delve into its name or by whom. 

After stewing the minced meat, Hob goes ahead with layering the pasta sheets, sliced cheese and prepared meat into a pyrex dish. 

The oven's digital clock struck 17:53 when Hob's phone starts ringing.

"Hello?" 

The response isn't audible that far from the counter Dream lies on. Scratch that, it would be hard to hear from a closer distance anyway, because Hob has earphones plugged in. Whatever it was, it was enough for Hob's shoulders to tense.

"Pat!" Hob turns to turn off the oven. 

"What's wrong? You never call me." Dream lifts his head at the worried tone and is quickly approached. Shaky fingers caress his head and neck. 

"Oh love," his eyes close, "do you need me to come over?" 

Hob slowly opens his eyes, eyebrows raise and with a softer voice, "Do you want me to?"

The answer must be positive, because his friend says, "Take some deep breaths for me, Patts." with that placating type of smile, and  "I'll be right there."

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

"-bert. Rob, hello. Earth to Robbie Rob Bobby-" 

Hob is shaken from his thoughts, only to be greeted by a finger poking his cheek repeatedly. His gaze flows from the finger up the arm to the shoulders and finally rest on Patricia's irritated face. 

Oops.

"There you are! I've been trying to get your attention for minutes, Rob." 

"Sorry, Patts. I got to lost in my thoughts again." He gives a nervous chuckle, then adds with humor "Who would've thought bloodshed is so enticing." 

"Rob!" She gasps with indignation and hits him upside the head, "I don't need you to protect my honour. I can handle myself." 

"I know. I know you can." He brings up his hands in an "I-mean-you-no-harm" gesture. 

He clears his throat, "So...can we go through it again?"

"You know, if I wanted someone to sit around and ignore me I might as well have chosen Logan." Patricia stands up from the kitchen counter to resume pacing. "You are a fantastic guy, Robert. I need your help, so focus stays here mister."

"Full attention. Got it. No distractions." Hob nods his head and throws a sheepish smile.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Dream settles on Hob's lap and absentmindedly listens to the conversation between Patricia and Hob. From time to time Hob's hand goes down his spine or to scratch his head. That's fine, Dream is here to offer support and comfort. No more or less at the moment.

Patricia's earnest and expressive voice introduces an unnoticeable tune. Electric hum makes for a quiet echoic bass line. Freshly put kettle on the stove awaits its solo part.

It happens some time along Patricia's second retelling - a sudden noise that puts an end to this unheard odd melody and silent calm.

Dream's attention shoots to his friend. Immediately notes the distant yet focused look in Hob's eyes. Dream, not noticing Hob scanning the place, was just about to direct that focus to him, but-

A second cracking sound slips through the open window, and with it- 

Patricia gasps as Hob falls to the ground and scrambles away to a wall.

For a second there was nothing else, but Hob's heavy breathing audible.

Suddenly the kettle started to whistle and all hell broke loose.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Hob holds his breath, strains his ears and waits.

He listens and listens. His heartbeat strong and loud within his chest. Adrenaline rushing through his blood. He scans the room for the best place to hide, the closest weapon. Just in case his ears were right.

He doesn't know how long he waits but there it is again! 

He drops to the ground and swiftly crawls to the wall. Away from any door's or window's view. 

His hand itches. A wooden chair's leg will suffice. He has to break it away.

Not yet.

His heart hammers in his chest. He waits ready for an opportunity to present itself. 

Now!

With precise moves the wooden chair gives out with ease.

A long whistle blast, perfect. Good enough to mask that racket with.

Then he snaps his head around upon hearing a hurt yelp.

Hob for the first time acknowledges the other's presence. He sees Helen cradling her hand to her chest. Sees the blood staining her dress. 

God's wounds. It's one thing to witness fellow comrades being wounded in action. Quite another when it's innocent civilians. 

The sound of an opening window snaps him back to the present. He swings with force at it, anticipating someone to reach through it, to hurt them.

Except - no one did.

Fuck. 

He can't go back to his waiting position, he compromised his location. He closes his eyes and inhales. He needs to think.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Dream jumps on a stool and without hesitation bites Patricia in her left hand. 

She yelps but brings her attention to the cat.

There, at least she's no longer frozen. 

Dream gestures his head toward the window.

Patricia with her hand pressed to her chest, looks back and forth between Dream, Hob and the window. Like she's unsure what Dream wants her to do.

At last she approaches the window and shuts it.

So he narrows his eyes and with theatrical exaggeration snaps his jaws. A clear intent. It's not hard to understand.

Suddenly Hob takes a big swing with the leg and Patricia misses being hit by a hair.

She takes multiple steps backwards. They both see Hob freeze.

In seconds his attention is back on Patricia. 

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Hob opens his eyes and turns to Helen, and whisper, "Are you okay?"

Why is there so much blood?

"Yeah..." 

He doesn't see her look at him puzzled. With efficiency he tears a fragment of his shirt, approaches her and wraps Helen's hand to stop the bleeding somewhat.

"That should do it."

He grabs her other hand and drags her to the bedroom. Once there Hob makes her sit behind the closet while he, himself, guards the door. Listening and ready to defend. He calms his heart. He looks at her and puts his finger to his lips. 

She nods. Good. 

He closes his eyes and focuses on his hearing.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈-ˋˏ✄┈

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Dream follows them close behind and stands near the sitting woman, watching closely both humans.

Minutes pass and the impromptu bandage on Patricia's hand is starting to leak. Drop by drop it adds to the main stain on her shirt, expanding it.

At some point Hob slid down the wall to the floor.

Dream in measured steps goes to Hob and decides to lie next to the immortal human's leg.

In took a few long moments, but finally Hob has opened his eyes and noticed Dream.

"Oh."  

Hob lets go of the wooden leg. He groans and thumps his head on the wall behind him.

"You with us now, Robert?" Patricia speaks up shakily, unsure.

"Yep, body and mind in one place." Hob chuckles with no humor.

"You know that cat of yours is very protective of you. I have a wound to prove it." Patricia gestures at her hand. Dream narrows his eyes at the woman. 

Of course I'm protective of him, he's my only friend.

Patricia lets out a thoughtful hum, "I wonder if it'll scar..." 

A breathy exhale leaves Hob.

"Vicious, isn't he?" A crooked smile disappears as quickly as it appeared. Dream in response licks Hob's fingers.

"Are you alright? You gave me quite a scare there Robert. I bet your cat too."

"Hm?" Hob lifts his head, "Oh. Don't worry, I'm fine. It was a long time coming." A poor imitation of a carefree-like voice, but it still holds tention beneath. Such a simple thing betraying one's emotional state.

"If you say so." Patricia's voice is woven with doubt.

"Really, Patts. You don't have to worry." 

"Ok, I believe you.",

Hob raises his eyebrow, "Okay?" 

"Okay," then, "as long as you receive help... not my business."

Hob sends her a grateful smile. "Thanks."

He nods his head and takes deep breaths. Minute long silence passes.

"So listen, about your problem, I dunno if you want my advice or not. But if I were you I'd think it would be for the best if..."

────────────※ ·❆· ※────────────

<- Previous Part Next Part ->

────────────※ ·❆· ※────────────

Also sorry for taking so long to write this. TwT

Positive and constructive criticism is welcome. I'll embrace any advice coming my way.

@fandom-free-bingo

[jcs-singular-slut-strand]

7. hair-ties or scrunchies?

8. how many water bottles are in your room right now? i have four!

9. which do you prefer, hot coffee or cold coffee?

11. favorite extracurricular activity? (is it ballet? i dont think it is)

21. something you’ve kept since childhood?

26.a scenario that you’ve replayed multiple times?

43. what’s your take on spicy foods?

44. you get a free pass to kill anyone, who is it?

46. favorite holiday film?

see, i even sent you the questions because i'm cool like that <3<3

have fun!

7) hair bobbles or scrunchies?

Well I have about a million hair bobbles just lying about my room and I usually have at least one on my wrist so I'll say hair bobbles. I don't really I have enough hair to use a scrunchie, it doesn't reach my shoulders

8) how many water bottles are in your room right now?

There are two, one that I barely ever use except at like 3 am when I wake up really thirsty, and the other is the one I use all the time. My original version of this bottle got lost/stolen in 2022 so I literally begged my dad to get me an exact replica off of amazon and I love it very much

9) hot or cold coffee?

Iced vanilla latte 🫶🫶 and then I add extra vanilla sugar because if my county is gonna be the "sick man of Europe" then I can at least benefit from it

11) fave extracurricular activity?

My fave is not ballet although it is something that I do. I recently dropped one of my classes (the one on Wednesdays) so now I'm only doing it once a week on Saturday. My favourite is deffinetly swimming though, I don't go as often as I would like but it's nearing summer which means potential sea swimming. Last summer (if you can call it that) me and my friend went to North Berwick and swam in the sea there. Fucking freezing, we came out bright red.

21) Something you've kept since childhood?

A stuffed animal which is a rabbit. She's called Floppy and I got her when I was 6. She has a Jonas brothers t shirt on right now, it serves

26) a scenario that you've replayed multiple times?

Sometimes I wonder what my life would be like if I wasn't an only child, or what would've happened if I had picked the other school over the one I did choose. I'm also constantly replaying the funny things my friends and parents say in my head, I write them all down out of context in samsung notes, I really like it

43) take on spicy foods?

I think they taste great, amazing even. However, this is Scotland. I CANNOT handle spice on any level. The local Indian restaurant recognise my family and tell us it's great to have us back every time, but they also know that I'm gonna be ordering butter chicken. It's banging though

44) free pass to kill one person. Who?

Omg one person?? That's actually really hard I didn't realise how many people I actually kinda despise... probably this girl who ruined my life 2-3 years ago and who now pretends that it's all good cause we're older now and it was just something that happened when we were silly and immature. Like babe no you were absolutely horrible to me. I mean I wasn't great either and did deserve to be held accountable for my actions but that was TOO FAR

46) favourite holiday film?

JESUS CHRIST SUPERSTAR!!!!!!!!! That counts as an Easter film. Not religious but I am a very big fan

[princesspastel8]

Author's Notes

Hiiii so.....I know most of you aren't pleased with this ending.

Honestly, I made no road map for how I wanted this book to end. This was just a random thought, and I wanted to turn it into a book. Most jeff The Killer books aren't written how I believe they should be, so I wrote my own.

This is how I always pictured Jeff. A selfish, manipulative, narcissistic, as*hole. Everything he does, everything he says has always been for his personal gain. He's also VERY prideful.

He isn't loving. He isn't soft. He never cared for anyone but himself, not even his brother (this Jeff is heavily based on the 'David Near' version. I believe his version makes far more sense. Check out his YouTube channel, please, to get a better understanding as to why Jeff is written the way he is)

Why would Jeff bother being soft when he has no reason to be? All he craves his violence and bloodshed. Meeting Eboni wasn't going to change that overnight. Not only did he still plan to kill her, but he also wanted to still toy around with her. He grew intrigued with her, and she was a good f*ck. A toy, if you will.

What caught his attention was the fact she didn't show fear. Jeff thrives on fear. It adds to the joy of his killings. So, to randomly fight toe to toe with this girl, not only pissed him off but also made him excited.

So he kept her alive and eventually grew attached. He was never going to admit such a thing, not even to himself. Eboni was just another possession that he didn't want anyone else to have. But after almost losing her, the first time is when he starts to battle with the small rational part of his brain against the psychotic part.

But the narcissistic, manipulative traits of him only made the rational part a losing battle. His attached towards Eboni quickly became an obsession. So when luna tried to get in between that, he took the fact that Eboni was indeed being stalked to his advantage, to show how much better he is for Eboni and not some friend.

So taking those bullets, even if it meant dying, was a part of drawing Eboni closer in only wanting him how he only wants her. I'm sure I dont have to explain Christmas now, do I?

Anyways, Jeff never experienced lost before. He never cared for anyone enough to fear feeling that emotion. Which is why he's always to himself. Caring for something, anything - was thought to be a weakness for slenderman to use against him to make him submit.

He was right, of course, lol.

So having Eboni where he wants her, all to himself - only to lose her like this would crush him to pieces. Which is why he drowned the way he did. Added to the guilt of once again letting his pride get to his head. He knew just how much of a hold she had on him, so he felt so lost without her near him all the time.

Jeff wasn't going to end his own life if I wrote Eboni to die.

He would've just gone down a very harsh and destructive path. He would've become a true monster.

He's still a narcissistic prideful person, but he'll only lower his guard, show his humility, show his selflessness for the only girl (only person) that's ever made him feel truly free/in control- Eboni.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

NOW! I am willing to do a Q & A. You can ask me questions or even ask the characters questions, and they'll be answered from their perspective. It can be any questions! I'll answer them all the best way I can.

There will also be at least three for four bonus chapters. It's more so fuller chapters I was thinking of adding that I thought would be best to leave out. These are just chapters before the events of Eboni's tragic fate. (With maybe three or two being random holiday specials)

There will also be a sequel!!! It will focus more on Luna×Toby, Hoodie×Iris, and Taylor×Masky. The story is mostly going to focus on Luna and toby, though. So I hope you're looking forward to that!

-- lastly, I want to thank everyone who's given this book a chance.

That is all everyone! Look forward to the bonus chapters, ask me anything within the Q & A option, and also- thanks again, truly! Love you all, and stay safe!💖

[sonicfandomsecretsanta]

@suna1suna1 submitted:

Happy Holidays, @comicaldreamer !! 

This was my first time writing a Surgeamy fic, and I had a lot of fun with it. I hope you enjoy it! ^^

I will put a language warning, but aside from that, this is pretty PG, so nothing explicit! Surge just tends to swear a lot XD

The cookies were underdone. Surge cursed at the broken-down oven in the apartment she and Kit had just moved into. Well, they were still moving into it. There were boxes everywhere, items from back at the abandoned Eggman base that they figured they’d bring here. Looking back on it now, Surge was surprised Starline would have let them have personal items. 

Anger zapped between her ears. Well no wonder the damn hypnotism didn’t stick, she thought. We had all this shit lyin’ around that we tied our damn memories to. She growled in disgust, and–before she realized what she was doing–sent an electric shock through the sheet in her hands and fried the cookies on it. The smell of char almost seemed to laugh in her face. 

Shame mixed in with the anger, and she groaned as she threw the cookie sheet onto the counter and walked out of the kitchen. Even now, after his death, Starline seemed to continue to ruin everything. Even nice gestures for the cute girl who’d offered to stop by and help unpack. 

Not that Amy being cute had anything to do with it. Of course not. 

The cookies had actually been Kit’s idea. He’d thought that maybe trying new things would help them find themselves. Not that Surge thought it would work. She didn’t even want to know who she’d been before… before her memories just stopped. 

Okay, maybe she did want to know. Just a little. But that still wasn’t the reason she’d made the cookies. 

When Amy had offered to help Surge and Kit unpack their stuff, Surge had initially thought she wanted to take the opportunity to spy on them, snoop through their stuff. Anybody else would, and Surge would have bet that none of them would have had the decency to admit it either. The Restoration, whatever they thought of themselves, was full of scum just as much as any other place. 

But Amy… She was different. There was something about her that made Surge almost (almost) let down the mile-high walls she’d put up against everyone except Kit. She just seemed so… honest. It… just seemed a shame that she’d do something nice for them and get nothing in return. That and Surge hated the idea of owing anyone anything in that sorry excuse for a charity. Especially if they had any connection to him. 

In fact if she wasn’t so damn close to Sonic, Surge would have been tempted to ask her out. 

Ugh, just thinking of Sonic’s name sent another jolt of anger through her veins. Not just because of that baseline impulse to hate him–though that was certainly a large part of it–but because if it weren’t for him being such a big thorn in Eggman’s side, she wouldn’t be so fucking miserable right now. Starline wouldn’t have been such a desperate fanboy and never would have made her and Kit into what they had become. 

He was the source of everything wrong with her life. 

There was a knock at the door, and Surge took a breath, trying (and failing) to regain her cool. Then she walked over and opened it. 

There she was, sweet as candy, her smile bright as she held out a plate of cookies wrapped in plastic. “I thought we might get hungry after all that work,” Amy said, “so I thought I’d bring cookies too.” 

Well shit. 

Surge sighed and gestured for her to come in. “Just put ‘em on the counter.” 

“Okie dokie,” Amy said. She shivered as she stepped in, her cheeks rosy from the winter cold. “Phew, it’s chilly out there.” 

Surge looked out the window, surprised to find it had started snowing, a thin frost already coating the grass and the sidewalk. “Huh,” was all she said about it. In truth, her memories didn’t go far enough back to see snow. It wasn’t nearly as pretty as everyone seemed to make it out to be. 

Amy shrugged out of her coat, then held it as she looked near the door. “Is there anywhere I can hang this?” she asked Surge.

Surge shrugged, then gestured to the ratty old couch that had remained from the old tenants. “Just dump it on the couch I guess,” she said. “We don’t have a coat rack… Wait… Hey, Kit!” 

The blue fennec popped his head out from the loft, which he’d claimed as his space. He looked down at both of them, Amy with a little disdain, and Surge with no small amount of fear. “Y-yeah?” he asked tentatively. 

“Do we got any coats?”

Kit shook his head. “Starline didn’t give us any. W-why?”

Surge pointed at the window. “Looks like we need some.” 

“Oh…” Kit retreated back into the loft. “But we don’t have the money to buy them, and s-stealing them is probably gonna be more trouble than it’s worth if the Restoration gets involved.” 

“I can get you guys some coats,” Amy offered as she came back over, now coat-less and cookie-less. She beamed with excitement as she looked at Surge. “We could go shopping together! No theft necessary!” 

Surge ignored how her smile made her stomach flutter and crossed her arms. “We don’t want anything from you guys,” she said. 

Hurt flickered across Amy’s face, and Surge tried to ignore that too, despite the pin-prick of guilt that poked her chest from the inside. “But… Just because you guys don’t like the Restoration doesn’t mean you deserve to freeze your tails off either,” Amy said, and Surge wasn’t totally sure if her smile was genuine now or if she was forcing it. “Besides, they wouldn’t be from the Restoration. They’d just be from me.” 

Surge couldn’t stop the blush that spread across her muzzle. “Why do you care, huh?” she demanded, trying to shove the embarrassment down into the pit of her stomach. “Do you just feel sorry for us? Is that it? Well we don’t want your pity!” 

“It’s not pity!” Amy shouted, and Surge blinked in surprise as hurt finally gave way to angry fire in her eyes, her ears folding backwards in fury. “Is it so bad that I just want to see a genuine smile from you? That maybe I like you? I thought that maybe we were getting to be friends but I guess I was wrong!” 

After that, Amy turned around, grabbing a box and opening it, tearing into it a little too forcefully. She ripped off one of the sides entirely, spilling its contents onto the floor with a curse. 

Guilt squirmed in Surge’s belly, but she said nothing as she helped Amy pick up the items from the box. She stole a glance at her, and her eyes widened when she saw tears cascading down Amy’s cheeks. 

“I–I didn’t… I mean…” Surge started, but couldn’t finish. After a moment, Amy stepped back and took a deep breath, wiping her eyes. Surge tried again. “I didn’t mean to–”

Amy shook her head, stopping her. “I need a minute,” she said. She went over and grabbed her coat, then stepped outside the apartment, closing the door behind her. Surge watched as she walked down the sidewalk. 

Fuck… 

“I think she l-likes you,” said Kit, who was peering down from the loft again. 

Surge gave him a look like, yeah right. 

“No, r-really,” he continued. “I mean, w-why else would she have offered to come help us? And bring cookies?”

Surge shrugged. “Because she’s just that much of a goody-two-shoes?” she suggested. 

Kit shook his head. “No. I mean, y-yes, but no. Did you smell her p-perfume?”

“Perfume? She always smells like that.” 

Kit pointed to his nose. “This thing isn’t usually w-wrong,” he said. 

True, Surge thought, though aloud she only grunted. “I mean, why would she worry about that though?” 

Kit sighed. “Like I said, she likes you,” he said. 

Oh. 

Oh. 

That somehow made a bit more sense. But then why the hell would a girl like Amy like a girl like her? 

Before she could ponder it further, there was another knock at the door, and Surge opened it to find Amy once again. Her eyes were a little puffy, and she still looked angry, but not so much that she would rip more boxes. “If you didn’t want my help, then you should have said so,” she said, her voice a little steadier, though it still had a hard edge to it. 

Surge looked down at her shoes, embarrassment sparking around her ears. “I didn’t mean I didn’t want your help,” she said. “I just… Look… We don’t want anything to do with Sonic. We don’t want any help that comes from him. We don’t owe him nothin’, and it’s gonna stay that way.” 

Amy’s ears finally perked back up, her watery eyes widening. “Oh… You guys know Sonic isn’t in charge of the Restoration, right?” she said, her voice softening a little. 

Surge narrowed her eyes. “Of course we do. We ain’t stupid.”

Amy raised her hands in a calm down gesture. “Just checking,” she said. 

“The Restoration rallied around the jack-ass!” Surge said. “Why would I want anything to do with an entire ‘charity’–” she put air quotes around the word “–dedicated to the guy who made me like this?” 

Amy’s brows furrowed. “It’s not Sonic’s fault that Starline ruined your lives,” she said, her voice tight. “Put the blame where it really belongs.” 

Surge opened her mouth to argue, but Amy kept going. 

“You don’t have to talk to him if you don’t want to. You don’t have to like him. You don’t have to have anything to do with him. But it’s not his fault Starline did any of that. It was Starline’s choice, and so he bears the burden of the blame.” 

Amy opened a box full of plates, wrapped in newspaper to cushion them, and carefully extracted a stack. With wide, challenging eyes, she looked back at Surge. “I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to. But I would like it if you would stop insulting my best friend.” 

Surge blushed and looked away, choosing to glare at the gathering snow outside, which was getting thicker. “Fair ‘nuff,” she grumbled. 

Amy sighed. “Okay,” she said. “Now, could you help me with this please?” 

Surge walked over and crouched down, taking out more plates. There were a few points when their fingers brushed together, sending a jolt up Surge’s spine that thankfully didn’t actually shock Amy. But slowly, the tension dissipated, and soon, Amy was talking again. It wasn’t about anything important, but it seemed as if she hated the silence enough that she was up to talk about just about anything. 

Not that Surge minded. It was… nice. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d just… chatted with someone like this. Maybe she never had. 

After a couple hours, the girls sat on the couch. There was still quite a bit of unpacking to do, but some of it was Kit’s, and they were letting him sort through and find the stuff he wanted to put away. 

“I saw the burnt cookies earlier,” Amy said, and there was that adorable smile again, though now there was an edge of mischief to it. 

Surge cleared her throat. “Uhh… Yeah? What about them?” 

“Did you try to do something nice for me?” Amy’s eyes were sparkling with… hope? 

Surge swallowed, then looked away. Her face felt as if it were on fire as she–slowly–nodded. 

“Awwwww,” Amy cooed. “That’s so sweet.” 

“Yeah, but I fucked it up,” Surge grumbled. 

“Hey, look at me.” 

Surge did, and her smile made her want to melt into a pile of green and black goo right then and there. She couldn’t help looking at her lips–because of her smile, she told herself. Not because she wanted to kiss her. Absolutely not. 

Well, okay. Maybe a little. 

“It’s the thought that counts,” Amy said. “And besides, I brought non-burnt cookies, so it’s fine. In fact…” She stood up. “How about we take a cookie break? I think we deserve it.” 

She reached out a hand to help Surge up off the couch, and after a moment, her smile melted, just a little. Surge panicked and took her hand suddenly, having been too shocked to register the gesture at first. 

When Amy’s hand let go, Surge had to resist the urge to grab it again, to keep holding it, as if that one action could put herself at ease, at least for a little while. 

They both walked into the kitchen and took a few cookies from the plate. They were quiet at first, both waiting for the other to say something. This was a different kind of silence from earlier. There was something stretched taut between the girls; something that might have been obvious to one and completely overwhelming and terrifying to the other. Both of them waited tensely for the other to address it. 

“So…” Amy finally began, and there were smears of chocolate chips around her mouth that Surge was resisting the urge to wipe away. “Was there any particular reason you decided to make cookies for me?” 

Surge tilted her head towards Kit, who sat in the middle of the living room floor. “It was the kid’s idea,” she said. “But I mean… You were doing somethin’ cool for us, so I thought… I’d do somethin’ cool for you. I uhh… kinda fried them though.” 

Amy looked at the charred cookie remains that were now at the top of the trash can. “I can tell,” she said with a giggle. “That’s really sweet though.” 

Surge nodded, unsure how to respond, and they slipped into silence again, just as if not more unbearable than the last. She became much more keenly aware of Amy’s scent, that rosy, flowery kinda smell, and wondered why she hadn’t realized it wasn’t just her normal smell before. It had that earthy perfume-y-ness to it that seemed rather obvious now. 

She was so distracted by the smell that she hadn’t noticed Amy had come over to her side of the counter. She was close, and Surge’s stomach fluttered at the shy smile she was giving her. 

“Can I kiss you?” Amy whispered. 

Surge’s eyes went wide, her heart pounding. “You want to?” she asked, stunned. 

“I mean, yeah. I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.” 

Surge swallowed. “Are you sure?”

Amy nodded. 

“Okay…” Surge said, her voice shakier than she would have liked to admit. “I’ve uh… never kissed a gal before. Or… well, I don’t think.” 

Amy giggled. “No biggie,” she said. “Me either. First time for everything, right?” She sounded as nervous as Surge felt, which put her a little at ease.

Surge took a breath and nodded. Slowly, Amy leaned in, her eyes closed. After a moment, Surge leaned in to meet her. 

The moment their lips met, it felt like there was a whole lightning storm in Surge’s belly, sparking heat in her face and her ears. There was a little crackle, and she pulled away sharply. “Did I shock you?” she asked quickly. Amy looked startled as she shook her head, and Surge sighed with relief. “Okay,” she said. 

“I heard a little snap. What was that?” 

Surge shrugged. “Might have been my ears,” she muttered. 

Amy smiled at her. “Well…” she said. “I think your ears were rude for interrupting that. Should we… keep going?” 

Surge laughed. Then they resumed. 

Suffice to say, it took a little longer to get the unpacking done than they originally thought. 

[marzipanandminutiae]

Hi Marzi! Hope you're doing well.

I've had some questions about CPeak for some time. And i was just wondering what you'd think about them!

1. When the police found Beatrice murdered, they didn't seem to suspect Lucille because she was just a child then. So why was she sent to the assylum? Is it because no one volunteered to take care of her, and she had nowhere else to go?

2. Lucille was pregnant when Thomas was married to Enola. That was 1896, so Lucille was 31 then. Do you think it was her fist pregnancy? I mean, it's probably been over 10 years since they've been sleeping with each other. Do you think they've ever tried some kind of contraception?

3. What do you think the villagers' opinion on the Sharpes would be? Allerdale is probably the largest house in the region so everyone would know who the Sharpes are. And both Thomas and Lucille seem to regularly visit the village. Do you think the villagers ever suspected the Sharpes? (Especially about Thomas having multiple wives. And also Beatrice's death.)

And as far as i know, not going to church was considered unacceptable at that time. The Sharpes don't seem to go. Edith went to church when she was in America. So what would've Edith thought about that? And the villagers?

Happy to offer my thoughts!

I have two theories about how Lucille ended up in the asylum. The first- and what I think the movie meant to imply -was that the police did figure out that she'd killed Beatrice. There was a public story about her going to a convent school to save the family's reputation, while she was in fact institutionalized.

My second theory is that the authorities didn't work out the truth and released her to the same aunt and uncle in Whitehaven that Thomas spent his school holidays with- but they either suspected her guilt or simply found her inconvenient to deal with, and packed her off to a mental hospital. (Which, either way, I imagine to be the most disreputable sort of charity hospital- decent asylums DID exist back then, with doctors genuinely trying to help their patients, but those tended to be for people with money.)

2. Again, a few options here as I see it:

It was her first pregnancy that got far enough to be noticed, possibly because she's just biologically inclined to be less fertile (or Thomas has a low sperm count, or whatever).

She'd been terminating them before, but this was the first one Thomas actually noticed. And his excitement + her desire to be a mother despite thinking it was a bad idea convinced her to carry to term this time.

They had been using some kind of contraception, which failed (probably anything they had access to would be far less effective than modern options, and state-of-the-art contraception for 1896 would have been beyond their means).

I definitely suspect she terminated any subsequent pregnancies, though- and given period abortion methods and her lack of medical training beyond first aid and kitchen chemistry, it's a miracle she didn't die.

3. The bios sort of answer this one! Apparently the children were allowed out a bit more before their father's death, and though the family on the whole didn't mix with the villagers, they apparently found Thomas charming and Lucille polite but cold. The article about Beatrice's death, in the movie, mentions that people sometimes saw Lucille riding her pony (?!) around the hills near the house. As adults, the siblings seem disinclined to give a damn what anyone they don't need anything from thinks of them. So the villagers might well find them both incredibly sketchy- they just don't care.

(That said, I'm not sure their behavior would raise too many red flags if they weren't around much. Thomas is actively charismatic and likeable, and even Lucille is well-mannered- being well-mannered but aloof and very Proper would hardly have seemed unusual for a thirtysomething aristocratic spinster back then.)

(They don't know that he was psyched to have gotten his sister pregnant, or that she thinks seldom blinking makes her seem more normal.)

As for going to church, yes, it was expected of the well-to-do in both the US and UK back then. But again...the Sharpes give nary a damn what's expected. It seems their parents barely did, and that's when the family still had some fortune to lose. Easy enough to plead inability to attend- the Baronet is away on business; Lady Sharpe is in delicate health. The children could scarcely go on their own, after all. The villagers might have thought it odd, but they're still just villagers. Their opinions were of no consequence to nobility.

As for the adult occupants of Allerdale Hall in 1901...I'd be very surprised if any of them were particularly religious. Even Edith, who both grew up going to church and knows for a fact that there is life after death, doesn't really seem the type to me. I doubt she thinks about it much, really.

And the siblings have no reason to venerate a god who seemingly heard years of their desperate prayers and did nothing.