#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.”

[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?"

[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.

[mlmxreader]

Dragon's Tongue | Bard x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ Hi!

Can I request the prompts “Take it, I want you to have it” With Bard please? ❞

: ̗̀➛ Bard doesn't mind being in a relationship with a soldier, especially not one that's lost absolutely everything.

: ̗̀➛ violence & death, angst

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

You coughed weakly as you started to stir, heat rising and bubbling from your stomach up to your face as you stretched and looked over next to you; Bard was still sound asleep, lying on his stomach with his arm draped across your stomach, his fingers splayed out so he could feel the rise and fall as you breathed.

You almost felt bad for it, in all honesty. Being awake so late while he was so sound. But you couldn't help it. The life of a soldier was an entirely different world than that of a bargeman, after all.

Everything you had seen, you could still picture it so clearly. You did your duties, you paid the price of a mile ten thousand times over - yet it felt like it had all been in vain.

Lucky to be alive, you were one of the few that survived from your regiment; one of the few to be saved by the very thing that Bard had been born to kill.

You had spent years defending a dragon that slept soundly within the mountains of a small island; you could still hear the steady rise and fall of its great breath, an earthquake beneath your feet, when it slept.

You could still feel the heavy vibrations when it grumbled and alerted you to danger. It wasn't like any other dragon; it had given its life to defend the people of part of the small island.

Towering in stature, its winged seemed to form two massive mountains on their own, its legs thicker than any stone or metal you had ever known. The smallest of its sharp and pointed teeth was still longer than you were tall.

But its red scales, shimmering in the golden hour sun, were always so beautiful. Brilliant crimson and ruby shades mixed with garnet and merlot. Its eyes were angular, and its tongue formed a massive pointed arrow at the end, almost identical to its tail.

Its great claws were able to tear apart even the heaviest of stones, and the spikes that littered its body seemed denser than anything else you could have imagined. The dragon never hurt anyone, though. It seemed to know who its people were, and was only ever hostile to outsiders.

You had spent years guarding it, keeping it safe. The dragon's tongue was always more natural when leaving your mouth, as opposed to the language of men.

The sword that currently sat at the beside, now dulled and neglected, had once been pulled from a lake by that massive beast, who had insisted that you needed it. It never said when, or why. But you did find out.

You found out the day that they attacked from the east. Men, armed to the teeth and with gnashing and gnawing accents, Men, who wanted to take over the part of the island that you belonged to, and would stop at nothing to take it.

They outnumbered you, and they had more artillery; you and your men would never have survived, if it hadn't been for that dragon.

It had fulfilled its promise, coming to aid its people when they needed it most; using its massive tail and claws to take down as many as it could - but it did not expect them to have catapults, and nor did it expect them to use them to chain it down.

By the time it had broken free of its chains, you and your men had all but entirely been wiped out by the men. The dragon had managed to fend them off for long enough for the survivors to flee, but heavily injured, you never got far.

But what those men did to your home... you could never forgive such animosity. Such beastly and inhuman actions.

They had taken everything. They banned the dragon's tongue, and anyone who was caught uttering even a single word had been beaten and bruised to the point of near death.

They took your homes, demanding that they owned them, and forcing you out of your own lands. They outlawed your practices - culture, traditions, holidays. Everything.

That poor dragon, who had given its life to defend you and your people, was trapped inside the mountain.

They promised that it would never come back, that they would slaughter everyone if it did.

Lake-town was your best option. Far enough from those men that you could feel safe, yet close enough that you didn't miss your home too much. Even though it wasn't your home anymore. Even though they had destroyed every ounce of your home.

Bard, despite his distrust and distaste for the beasts, had encouraged you to teach him and his children the dragon's tongue - he picked it up well enough, although you still had to wonder off a few times.

Sometimes it was too much to remember that you once had a lovely, beautiful home; situated within deep Valleys near the mountain. Near the river that ran through the part of the island that you and your men had given your lives to protect.

But Bard had never been anything but understanding. A soldier, you were never really used to kindness. You were never used to a gentle touch and a soft kiss. But Bard changed that. You would trust him with anything, everything.

He stirred what he felt you move, shifting around to lie on his side as he let out a long yawn and looked at you with such horrible softness in his eyes.

"The mountain?"

You nodded, a little surprised when you swiped a hand down your face and felt something wet near your eyes. "Ei gwrol ryfelwyr, gwladgarwyr tra mâd, tros ryddid gollasant eu gwaed..."

Bard nodded, frowning as he moved a little closer, looming up at you and daring to smile sadly. "So did you."

You shook your head, clearing your throat. "I should be dead. I should've died in... in my home..."

It was a particular kind of homesickness, Bard knew that better than anyone. The type of homesickness that wasn't just limited to a place; it was missing a language, a culture, traditions. People.

The true meaning of home. It was never about a place, it was never about those beautiful Valleys or that deep, blue river or those cold rocky mountains. It was about the humanity. It was about what had been stolen so violently. It was about the people.

There wasn't much Bard could do, except get up as he hummed under his breath. He grabbed his leather and fur coat, and tossed it over to you as he dared to flash you a quick smile.

"We'll go sit outside, come on."

You nodded, tugging it on and inhaling his scent for a moment before falling into step beside him and standing by the front door.

"I used to think it was funny," you mumbled. "I was born to protect a dragon - you were born to kill one."

Bard smiled as he laughed softly, daring to take your hand in his. "Why don't you think it's funny anymore?"

You shrugged, swallowing thickly. "I love you too much to care about the difference anymore..."

"Are you feeling alright?" He whispered, getting close enough so that his lips were beside your ear.

You shook your head. "I don't know... is that bad?"

"No," he said quietly. "The children are all put tomorrow in the morning... what do you say you come to work with me?"

"Won't I distract you?"

"No," Bard hummed. "It might do you some good, get you back onto lakes and rivers... besides, you can wear my coat again."

"I couldn't-"

"Take it, I want you to have it," he told you gently. "Please."

[jawritter]

My Brother’s Keeper

Chapter 2

Summary: Y/N, Sam’s roommate, so far have a pretty good thing going. Both work and function around one another well. What happens when his big brother comes down for the holidays with his mysterious past, mixed with Sam’s own mysterious previous life? Can Y/N and the grumpy older brother find a way to get along? Or will it be a not so happy holidays at the Winchester house?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus Sized!Reader x Sam

Word Count: 2682

Prompt: Reunion

Written for: @spnchristmasbingo​

Rating: Mature (because of future chapters, this story is 18 + only, and not fit for minor consumption.)

Warnings: Angst, self-hating reader. Brief mentions of past bullying. 

A/N: This is the first Christmas fic I have written in a long time! You guys will get this one real time, and I hope to finish it before New Years! Fingers crossed! Anyways, This fic is unbeta’d, so all mistakes are my won! Feedback is golden! My work is 18+ only! No minors! Thanks so much for reading!

Main Masterlist

Y/N leaned heavily against the entryway that separated the mostly open floor plan of the kitchen and dining room with a heavy sigh. Off somewhere in the background, the TV played in the corner now instead of Pandora, having received an update on her phone about a possible upcoming snow storm she thought it best to see what the actual news might have to say. With their house guest with them, they might need some extra supplies to see them through the holidays, especially if Dean ends up having to stay longer because of the weather. Still, she wasn’t even really paying attention to it right now. All she could think about was the metal note that she made to herself to assign, Sam as well as herself, daily chores so that it didn’t get that bad again. 

She was exhausted, but she did have to admit that she felt accomplished. If a stranger looked around at this place, they might think that Sam and Y/N might actually have their life together, instead of the custerfuck of work and barely meeting at the dinner table most days. Which, she guessed, was the point of spending the whole day cleaning for some guy that all she could do was pray that he wouldn’t be a giant dick bag and was at least as descent of a guy as Sam had portrayed him to be. From the one picture she’d seen of him, he looked like every big bag of dicks that she went to high school with that did nothing but gain gratification of some sort by making her life a living hell. 

Shaking herself, she pushed herself off of the wall, and made her way over to the TV to turn it off, her anxiety was really too high to deal with any sound, and besides, Dean would probably be there any moment. It was too late to go and fix herself up, so she settled on making her way into the kitchen to go and fix herself, and Dean some coffee if he wanted it. It was fucking cold out, and honestly, if he didn’t drink Coffee for some reason, she had no problem finishing the pot for herself. 

She was trying her best to trust Sam, and not judge Dean before the man even pulled up in the driveway, because as Sam’s friend, she felt that she at least owed Dean the benefit of the doubt. If Dean had practically raised Sam, and Sam had turned out to be as nice of a guy as he was, that surely had to count for something, and besides, never judge a book by its cover. At least, that’s what she kept retorting to herself as she bustled around the kitchen making coffee. 

She hated this side of herself. This anxious, self-conscious, insecure mess that she was. It wasn’t as if it were bad enough, she didn’t really have all that much going for her in the looks department, but years of bullying through high school and collage had left their mark into adulthood, and even though she was damn near 32 years old now, and all those guys that harassed her shouldn’t have held any importance to her life now she still carried the baggage. It had affected her so much that she’d only had one real boyfriend, and it turned out that he was just using her to get a position at the company she’d been a secretary for at the time. She had thought at the time, he was the one, so needless to say, she hadn’t exactly had all that great of a track record with men… well ever. 

She had just pressed brew on the coffee machine, when a loud knock sounded at the front door, jolting her back from her traumatic past to an equally unsettling reality. Dean was here. 

“You’re an adult for fucks sakes Y/N get it together, he’s not here to spend time with you, he doesn’t care that you’re here, he’s just here to see Sam, that’s all,” she whispered to herself as she forced her sock clad feet to shuffle along the freshly mopped hardwood floor towards the front door, and the impressive shadow of the man that stood through the window. 

This must have been what Scrooge felt like every time it was time for a new ghost to come calling. 

Another loud knock sounded at the door, and she took a deep breath before reaching out and opening it to reveal the greenest eyes she’d ever seen, sat in a stern, but somehow boyishly freckle dusted face and military cut. He was even more handsome than she’d seen in the pictures, with the years of lines around his eyes that barely peeked back at her, but she assumed if he were to smile, or even laugh, it would make them even more defined, and himself somehow even more beautiful. 

Sam didn't mention the fact that his brother was some walking version of a Greek God!

“Hey, uhm… I don’t know if I have the right house,” Dean said, clearing his throat and fuck if his deep voice didn’t make fucking chill bumps rise up on her arms that she quickly crossed. “I’m Dean Winchester, I’m looking for my brother Sam Winchester’s house?” 

She didn't miss the way his eyes traveled over her body as he spoke, and she automatically took a self-conscious step back. 

"You, uhm, you got the right house," Y/N stuttered. "I'm Y/N, Sam's roommate, he told me you were coming."

She took a step back so that Dean could come inside, but he froze at the door with an old, green duffle bag over his shoulder, and a somewhat cautious look on his face. 

"Listen, I hope it's okay, but I brought my dog with me. I don't like leaving him behind when I travel," Dean confessed before looking over his shoulder to whistled for a medium sized, shaggily adorable dog to come trotting dutifully to his incredibly attractive owner's side. 

"Oh," Y/N blinked in surprise. "I'm sure Sam doesn't mind. Come on in, it's freezing out there."

This time, Dean stepped inside, sidestepping Y/N in the threshold of the door with a glance as he looked cautiously around the freshly cleaned house, while Y/N closed the door tightly behind him. 

"So, uhm… Do I just take the couch or…?" Dean questioned as Y/N turned around to face her, his four-legged friend already trotting off in the kitchen to lay under the kitchen table. 

"No," Y/N quickly corrected. "Sam has the guest room just down the hallway there across from my room all set up for you," she blurted out quickly, then regretted the overshare immediately. Like Dean really gave two fucks that the guest room was across from her room.

"Uhh, cool," he said, giving another clear of his throat. She wondered if she was irritating him, and that's why he kept doing that. God he was so hard to read! 

"Miracle, come on boy," he called over his shoulder with a whistle and a quick pat of his leg. 

His companion wasted no time in scurrying to his feet and following his owner to the guest room Y/N had indicated, but Y/N really saw none of that, because she was too stuck on the broadness of the man. He was tall, admittedly not as tall as Sam, maybe he would be had he not been adorably bow legged, but honestly, it was the shoulder to waist ratio that had her dumb founded on the spot as they disappeared, and the guest room door closed behind him, shaking her from the drooling mess that this man suddenly made her become. 

“Fuck Y/N! Get it together!” Y/N angrily whispered to herself. Her own behavior towards this man made her cheeks flush red with embarrassment. She honestly never acted this way towards any man in her life! The behavior was completely out of character for her. It wasn’t something she did, ogle after attractive men. Honestly, she usually hid from them, not wanting to fall victim to what would surely be hateful remarks, and disgusted stares. 

“But in all fairness, you’ve never encountered Adonis walking in the flesh before either have you?” The not so subtle little voice whispered inside her head where her continuous once was, and honestly, she made a reminder to mentally kick herself later as the aroma of warm coffee filtered into the living room where she was still standing, making her feet travel towards the inviting odor, which she guessed was better than standing in the middle of the floor like an idiot. 

She couldn’t help the inescapable feeling that this Christmas for her might be the worst one yet. 

She was so steeped in her own self-loathing, that she did not hear her abnormally attractive house guest wonder into the kitchen where she was as she made her cup of coffee, until the deep clearing of his voice made her jump as she turned around to be astounded once more as if it were the first time by the same astonishing green eyes. 

“Do you mind if I—” he stated unsure, gesturing at the coffee maker behind her right shoulder, and Y/N quickly scurried out of his way. 

“Oh, sure, of course, make yourself at home,” she blubbered out maybe a little too quickly, but he was nice enough to not call her out on her awkwardness, and she appreciated the effort.  It’s not like he had to be nice to her. She was just the roommate after all. 

She moved herself over to the small kitchen table that they had in the corner of the old kitchen setting, and settled herself down with her cup of coffee, because to be honest, he made her feel a little weak in the knees, and that scared the hell out of her. 

Dean made quick work of pouring himself a large, black cup of coffee, and came to sit down across from her at the table, which nearly made her fall out of her seat at the sheer shock that he was sitting anywhere near her at all. 

“So,” he stated as he took a long swig of the hot liquid from his glass as if they had been old buddies for years that needed to catch up, and not complete strangers that they were. “How did you meet Sammy, he’s pretty tight lipped when it comes to shit. He doesn’t tell me anything anymore. I didn’t even know you existed until a week ago.”

Y/N blushed deeply, forcing herself to look away from Dean, even though she really didn’t want to. Honestly, she could stare for hours at the man and never get bored. 

“We uhm… We met through work actually. I was a secretary at the firm he’d just started to work at a few years back,” she admitted, and she felt the air in the room shift dramatically, making her eyes drift back up to Dean’s stare, which had suddenly turned hard. Cold even. 

“You mean the two of you have been together for years, and he hadn’t even bothered to mention anything at all about it to me,” he questioned, and the thick rumble of his voice made her shrink down a little in her chair, but the surprise that he thought that that Sam and herself where ‘together’, was something she hadn’t expected, nor did she understand. 

“What? No, We’re not, ya know, ‘together’ like that,” she corrected quickly. “We’re just friends. Sam did know a lot of people when he moved down here, and we worked a lot together while he was at the firm I was working at. I didn’t move in here until Covid layoff took a toll on the office I was still at about six months ago, and Sam let me move in here when I lost my apartment, other than that, we’re just friends.”

Dean slouched a little in his seat, almost like a kicked dog or someone that had overstepped and was regretting it. 

“I’m sorry,” he said after a moment. “I assumed you were— Look, Sam and I have had our share of communication troubles in the past, and when he called me to see if I wanted to come down for Christmas this year, I assumed he’d at least be here, and I thought this was his coward ass way of trying to tell me he had a girlfriend or something, because when Sam gets a girlfriend, well, let’s just say I don’t hear from him after that.” 

She made a mental note to kick Sam’s ass when he got home. She knew that Dean was telling the truth, and honestly, she’d experienced Sam’s lack of communication herself, as well as lived through a few girlfriends, she knew what it felt like to be ignored, but never on the level Dean seemed to have experienced. 

“Wait,” she said after a moment’s thought, “I thought that he said YOU were the one that wanted to come down and see him because of your roommate and a girl or something like that?” she questioned, and Dean snorted in disgust as took a drink from his mug in front of him. 

“That what he told you?” he questioned, shaking his head. “Well sweetheart, I don’t have a roommate, and he is the one who called me and apparently couldn’t even have the decency to take time off work to be here when I got here.”

“I’m sorry, I told him the same thing, you know, that you are coming to see him, not sit here with me,” she stood a little too harshly maybe, and but she was irritated, not with Dean, but Sam. 

“I’m sorry,” Dean apologized again, and she hated that she made him feel that he had to keep apologizing to her. None of this was his fault, it was Sam’s. “I shouldn’t have dumped all that on you. My issues with my little brother shouldn’t be something you’ve been dragged into. Besides, I don’t mind spending time with you, honestly, I would have just been alone for Christmas anyway, besides Miracle that is.”

Three things stung her in that sentence. First, she was better than being alone with a dog, noted. Second, Sam is gonna have some serious ass kissing to do, because she had a feeling that this man that had put so much of his life into raising him had spent way too much time alone. Third, the look on his handsome face didn’t belong there. It just didn’t. He was too handsome to look that alone, that down, she knew that feeling well. But people like him, they were never alone. Pretty people always had people around them. Didn’t they? 

Miracle trotted into the kitchen to sit dutifully by his master’s side, and she smiled as she looked down at the light sandy colored, adorable creature. 

“Is he a service dog?” she questioned, attempting to lighten the mood. Dean smiled down at his friend, reaching to scratch him behind his floppy ear. 

“No, but I honestly never thought about it. He’d make a good one.”

Just then, the front door opened and closed loudly, announcing the younger Winchester’s return. 

“Well sweetheart, are you ready for the Winchester’s happy family Christmas reunion?” Dean announced sarcastically. 

Y/N snorted into her cup. Honestly, she was liking Dean a little too much for her liking, and she was pretty mad at Sam, so whatever he said to Sam, she was probably gonna side with him. Roommate be damned. 

“It’s feeling like a warm family sitcom already,” she jests, and Dean tossed his head back to laugh a full body laugh that she so desperately wanted to see more of. God he was gorgeous when he laughed. 

“Some twisted version of Christmas with the Fockers maybe,” he agreed, as he stood to go face his baby brother for the first time in what was probably years…

Chapter 3 HERE!!!

Forever:

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[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

[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..."

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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

[birdyspen]

Pull Me From The Grave (Help Me Prevent Another)

When Peter resurrects himself, Stiles is waiting for him.

@stetersecretsanta2022 For @i-might-be-in-over-my-head

Happy Holidays, Friend!

When he woke up, Peter was expecting Derek and Lydia. He was not expecting Stiles.

He pulled himself out of the dirt, and then out of the hole in the floorboards, and came face to face with the teenager.

Stiles was crouched on the edge of the hole, bat over one shoulder, and grinning broadly. “Hey, Peter,” he said.

“Stiles,” Peter responded. “What brings you here?”

The boy shrugged. “Oh, nothing much, just checking in on the place, making sure it hasn’t crushed any dumb interlopers, checking in on your resurrection, nothing major. Speaking of which though, how are you doing? Everything where it’s supposed to be and working correctly?”

Peter was pretty sure everything was ‘where it was supposed to be’, but he didn’t think his more supernatural qualities, including his healing factor, were going to be up to par quite yet. But he wasn’t about to reveal such a weakness like that, especially not when this particular teenager had already demonstrated a willingness to kill him.

“Yes, thank you.”

The grin on Stiles' face only got bigger. “Liar.” He held out the hand not holding onto his bat, like he was offering to help Peter out of the hole.

Equally possible was that he was going to take advantage of the position that put Peter in to swing that bat. And against a werewolf who wasn’t entirely in one piece, he would definitely be able to do some serious damage. Might even be able to kill Peter, if he hit him hard enough in the head and crushed his skull. Even breaking ribs and puncturing his lungs with them would probably take him right back out at the moment, since he wasn’t going to be healing anywhere near as quickly as he was accustomed to.

“Would it make you feel better if I told you I didn’t bring this with a plan to use it?” Stiles bounced the bat on his shoulder a little, like he’d known what Peter was thinking. “More of a precaution, in case your brains were still all scrambled. Can’t have an insane werewolf running around on top of everything else that’s going on right now. But you seem better than you were, wouldn’t you say?”

Clever boy. Yes, Peter would say that. He definitely felt better, even if there were definitely parts that still felt raw, like there were still healing burns in his psyche. But it wasn’t all consuming like before he killed Laura, and there wasn’t the also painful burning rage clouding his vision either. “Not going to offer to put it down though?”

Stiles snorted. “Not stupid, Peter. Can’t trust you, yet. But I don’t want to have to use it, if that helps.”

Yet, Peter caught, can’t trust you yet.

Oddly enough, that did help. So he took Stiles' hand and let the teenager pull him out of the hole. Let Stiles catch and stabilize him when he stumbled, keep him on his feet with an arm around his shoulders until he stopped swaying. Only then, when he seemed sure that Peter wasn’t going to keel over on him, did Stiles step away. And even then, he didn’t go very far. Only a few paces away to where a pile of fabric lay waiting, and Stiles turned back to Peter with it in hand.

“Think you can manage putting some clothes on so you don’t get cited for public indecency on our way to somewhere you can get cleaned up?”

With a little more space between them, and feeling less like he had to watch for an attack even if he still wasn’t going to fully let his guard down, Peter looked more closely at Stiles. Something had felt off about the boy from the moment he’d come far enough up out of the hole to see him, and now Peter was able to try and see what it was. And instantly, he could see several things that would have been pinging his radar if he’d been able to pay them more attention.

Stiles' hair was longer, grown out and spikey. There were scars poking out from his sleeves and collar, and lines around his eyes and mouth that hadn’t been there when Peter had died. And was that ink too, those black edges peeking past his clothes? Tattoos? And the bat. Wooden, but carved and burnt with symbols, the faintest glow around it visible to his enhanced eyesight. And it smelled like wolfsbane, mountain ash, mistletoe, and so many other things bound together with a layer of ozone. The same smell that coated Stiles too, the edge of an approaching storm.

And all of that was completely ignoring the way he stood, the tension in his shoulders, the look on his face when he thought he wasn’t being observed. The way he’d watched Peter like he was waiting for something, but it was different depending on whether or not he thought Peter was looking back at him. For a threat or danger, guarded and sharp when he was. And like he was waiting for something when he wasn’t, but pained like he didn’t expect to get it.

“You know,” Peter said as he reached out and took the clothes, “if I hadn’t been haunting Lydia these last few months, looking at you would make me think it had been longer.”

Stiles blinked a moment, like he was taken aback, and then a startled laugh burst out of him. “Oh yeah?”

Stiles didn’t volunteer anything, but Peter bet he could guess, even without being given the time to think it out further. Something sung in Peter’s veins, and he was pretty sure it wasn’t a surge of energy from the moonlight, or a jolt of energy delayed in returning. “Yes.”

He didn’t really need the details. Just the way Stiles was watching him, and the knowledge that whatever had happened before, it was going to be different this time. This Stiles was going to make it different.

And maybe he’d consider letting Peter help.

[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. 

[lokigayforhela]

Can you please continue with the Hela and pet who she drains power from story I think that it is pretty interesting so far and I would like to read more

WC: 3440

TW: A scene that is assault-coded, but no sexual assault happens.

Rating: PG

AN: ...surprise! Here’s a holiday present you probably weren’t expecting. I hadn’t really put a lot of effort into coming up with a real sequel for the original story, but I guess inspiration hit. And it hit well, because this will (brain- and time-willing) have four more parts after this. Enjoy!

You spent most of the next day dozing off and on in a meager attempt to replenish your energy. You didn’t need the sun to gain your energy back. You didn’t think you did, at least, because sometimes you could feel better without going outside at all. It was just that the sun, or maybe it was the fresh air even, seemed to speed the process along. Give you back your energy in a much more timely manner.

You’d lost track of how long exactly you’d been on Hela’s warship. You knew it had been months, only because Hela had said so herself, but you didn’t know how many. It was hard enough to tell time when you were in space, but to be locked away in a prison cell without any windows was a new level of disorientation that you hadn’t been able to adjust yourself to quite yet. In fact, you weren’t even sure if you truly had been sleeping all day, or if you’d just slept through the night, or if you’d perhaps even slept all night and into the next, as well. Hela hadn’t come back to visit, at least that you were aware of, though, so you mustn’t have been sleeping for too long.

You turned over so that you were lying on your back on your stiff little cot and looked up at the pale grey metal of the ceiling above you, unsure what exactly you were hoping to see in the blankness of it. Groggily, you let your eyes drift over to the steady, if dim, light coming from the fixture in the middle of the room. It didn’t really do much by way of actually lighting the room, but it was enough so that you weren’t trapped in darkness which, you mused, would have been even more frustrating than not being able to tell night from day or count how long you’d been a prisoner.

Yes, you were grateful for the light, poor as it was, just as you were grateful for the terribly hard cot and the blanket that seemed more hole and string than blanket and the scraps of food the guards brought you.

Could be a lot worse, you reminded yourself, tilting your head to look at the barred door, where you noticed a distinct lack of food left for you, which meant either the guards hadn’t brought you anything yet or had opted not to, as you were asleep.

As far as you were concerned, at this point that was more of a blessing than a curse. When Hela had first brought you with her, the guards had been firmly instructed not to come into your cell for anything, or even to come near you at all, but the longer you’d been on the ship, the more curious they had become, and with that curiosity came a disregard for the rules Hela had set. They had been pushing their limits more and more lately, making you come to the door for your food instead of leaving it for you, or even threatening to come into the cell a few times, and it wasn’t that you were scared of them, but you couldn’t help the wariness that settled in your chest every time they acted out a little more boldly.

In a manner of speaking, you were waiting for the other shoe to drop. Whenever and however that might be.

The sound of distant footsteps drawing closer brought you out of your silent reverie and you pushed yourself up on your elbows a bit, if only to prove to whoever was coming down that you were awake and present, to some degree. The last dregs of sleepiness were still clinging to you, after all, and the energy draining-induced exhaustion had still yet to go away.

You were surprised to find that it was Hela who came to a halt at your cell, and you perked up the slightest bit, hoping that she was here to tell you that the ship was docking somewhere and that you’d be able to come out with her and finally spend some time outside and not surrounded by four walls of metal and locks.

“Oh. Sweet girl, you’re finally awake. You’ve been asleep for three days now, you know. I’d ordered everyone not to bother you, so you could try and recharge, as it were.” She smiled pleasantly, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Not entirely. “I’m glad you’re awake, though. That means I don’t have to leave this.” She raised a small scrap of parchment paper, which she began to fold into quarters and tucked away into a pocket as she continued. “We’ve made port on Xandar. We’ll be here for a little while, so I was thinking maybe if you’re good while I’m away on some quick business, then when I get back, you can come out with me for a walk. Just for a little bit.”

The initial shock of learning you’d been asleep for three days now wearing off, you perked up at the news, nodding and hoping that the gesture didn’t come off as desperate as you felt. “I’d like that very much, Hela.” You just barely managed to stop yourself from using her title again. “Do you… Need a little boost before you go?”

Hela smiled, and this time you could see it in her eyes, if only briefly. “No, sweetling. I’ll be alright. Besides, there’ll be time for that when you’re feeling a little more… replenished.”

You nodded, and sat yourself up properly so that you could face her. “Thank you. I promise I’ll be on my best behavior down here, and when you let me go out with you, too.”

Hela bowed her head in acknowledgment. “I know you will.” With that out of the way, she clasped her hands together in front of her. “Now. I should only be gone for a few hours, but I’ll send for some guards to bring you something to eat now that you’re awake, yes?”

You fought to keep your expression even as you nodded, but Hela, ever perceptive, noticed anyway.

“Is something the matter, sweet girl?”

You smiled, and hoped you looked convincing. “No.”

Hela narrowed her eyes, and looked at you with an intensity that left you struggling not to shy underneath it. “And you would tell me if there was. Yes?”

She said it in a way that left you uncertain if she was leaving you with an option. “Yes. I’m just… hungry. I’ve been asleep for a long time, as you said.”

Hela didn’t seem entirely convinced, but nodded. “…just so. I’ll be down as soon as I return.”

You only nodded again, and Hela, seeming satisfied with that, turned and took her leave, and you slumped back down on the bed, feeling drained all over again, despite the fact that she hadn’t been near enough to take from your energy.

No, this was a different sort of a drain, and you weren’t entirely sure that sun and fresh air was something that would help with that.

~~~~~~~~~~

You busied yourself with making your bed and fluffing your thin pillow while you waited for either your food to come or Hela to return. In all honesty, you weren’t entirely sure which would happen first, despite Hela giving the orders to the guards herself, but in any case, it was better for you to be prepared regardless.

You had undone and remade the bed another ten times out of sheer boredom before you finally heard the sound of footsteps coming down the hall again, and you made yourself stand, just in the off chance that it was Hela returning already. To your dismay, however, it was a pair of guards that came into view at the door to your cell, Hela still gone attending to whatever her business was here.

“Finally awake, huh?” one of the guards questioned, sharing a glance with his partner before continuing. “The Commander must be really wearing you out down here, huh?”

The other guard snickered, and you tried not to blush at the insinuation, wrapping your arms around yourself in an attempt to both appear as standoffish as you could manage and to give yourself something to do so that you weren’t thinking about how exhausted you still were.

“It isn’t like that,” you finally countered after a moment of silence, fixing them each with your best glare.

“Right, I’m sure it’s not. If it were, she’d keep you in her chambers with her, wouldn’t she? Instead she keeps you locked away here, like an animal.”

“Won’t even share your supposed powers with those of us who help her with her dirty work.” The other guard shook his head in a mockery of disappointment, giving a quiet tsk. “You’d think for all we do for her, she’d want to keep us in good health, too.”

“And what is it you do for her exactly?” You said the words before you could stop yourself, but when they gave you a reproachful glance, you found yourself gaining a small bit of courage. “I mean, she’s the Goddess of Death, right? The Commander. The way I see it, you’re likely just along for the ride, at this point. Like the strings of a puppet, except you’ve been cut and are simply… hanging slack while she performs.”

You could tell from the way their gazes hardened that you had struck a chord, and that it had been a terrible mistake.

“Big talk from little more than a pet.” The first guard looked over at the second, and then back in the direction they came from before setting down the tray of food he’d been holding the whole time. “What do you say, Nils? Shall we see if there’s any truth to the whole idea this little girly can replenish energy?”

“I was thinking exactly that, Dag. You go first. I’ll keep watch here.” He took the keys off of his belt and tossed them to Dag, who caught them and started rifling through them as you took a step back, heart pounding in your chest as you tried to anticipate just what exactly they were going to do with you.

“Aw, don’t be shy, sweetheart. We’re just trying you out, as it were. See if the rumors are true.” Dag had finally got the door open and made his way into the cell, closing the door behind him so you couldn’t make a run for it.

“You know they are,” you countered, backing yourself into the furthest corner as he came closer. “You think Hela would lie about that?”

“Hela, huh? On a first-name basis with her, are you? And you say it’s not ‘like that.’” He scoffed out a laugh, taking another step forward, so that he was close enough that you could feel your energy starting to dwindle, pulling away from you like tendrils of smoke from a flame.

You thought you might pass out, but your fight or flight instinct had kicked in, and you swung your arm at him, intending to punch him like your father had taught you, but you moved too slowly in your weakened state, and he caught your wrist as soon as you raised it, and the tendrils became like great ropes, pulling your energy out with so much force that your vision began to go black around the edges as you struggled to get out of his grip.

“Sh… That’s it. No need for a fight.” Dag kept his grip on your arm, and you tried as best you could to pull away, but you were tired, and your vision was swimming, colors fading into blacks and whites and greys as you fought to keep conscious, and for a brief, scary moment, you felt your powers flicker. As if they were shorting out under the constant use without respite, but the next moment, that feeling had faded, and you looked up at Dag as he spoke again. “I’m sure the Commander won’t mind us testing you out for ourselves.”

“Won’t she?”

The sound of Hela’s voice echoed around you in the cell, and suddenly you were dropped as if you were a hot coal, and you collapsed onto your bed, struggling to keep your eyes open if only to see how Hela was going to handle this.

“Commander, it’s not what it looks like,” Dag tried, putting himself in the corner most opposite of where Hela stood at the door to your cell. Nils was nowhere to be seen.

“And what do you think it looks like? Hm?” Hela drawled, an eyebrow quirked as she leveled him with such an intense gaze that you heard him give an audible whimper. When he said nothing further, Hela cleared her throat, crossing her arms firmly over her chest as she tilted her head slightly, a look that could only be described as predatory. Dangerous. “Go on, then. I’m waiting.”

“Commander, I-I… Ah… I-I…”

“You, you, you what?! What did you think was going to happen when I found out what was going on down here? Did you think Y/N wouldn’t have told me what had happened if I hadn’t walked in on you taking advantage of her?”

“Th-that’s not-”

“That is exactly what happened!” Hela’s voice seemed to fill the entire room; a great, booming sound that you couldn’t help but to feel glad you weren’t on the receiving end of. “You dare lie in the face of your own Commander?” Her angry glare gave way to a somehow softer expression that would have looked remorseful if you hadn’t been able to tell that whatever she was going to say next was going to cut deeply. “After everything I’ve done for you. Shame.” She gave a flick of her wrist, and an obsidian blade slid into her palm effortlessly. She gripped it tightly as she reached forward to pull the door to the cell open. “Your… error in judgment will be the last you ever make.”

No sooner had she finished the sentence did she give a quick, if graceful, extension of her arm, and the sword she had been holding flew across the room and lodged itself in the guard’s chest and he fell to the floor, dead in an instant.

It all happened so quickly that you were still staring in awe by the time you were aware Hela had turned to face you. “Darling, are you hurt?” When you gave no answer, she tried again, hardening her voice just enough that you couldn’t ignore her again. “Y/N.”

You turned your head to look at her, your exhaustion momentarily pushed to the back of your mind.

“Did he hurt you?” There was an edge to her voice that you didn’t quite understand. One that didn’t quite match with the anger you could still hear lacing her tone and burning in her eyes. It made you shiver for reasons you couldn’t quite comprehend.

“N-No. No, I… Well, yes, he… He drained me quite a bit, and I… Well, I was still feeling so tired, as it was, and now… But he didn’t… physically harm me, no.” You tried to push yourself up into a sitting position, but your arms were shaking with fatigue, and you were keenly aware of Hela watching you all the while.

“You need to eat.” She glanced back at the tray of food that had been dropped on the floor outside of your cell, and that was when you realized the other guard lay dead on the other side of the bars, as well. “Not any of these scraps. Real food. Come.” She held the door open, and you looked at it and then to her, not quite realizing what she was asking of you. “Y/N.” Her voice was much softer now, and it confused you and soothed you in a way that didn’t make sense. “Come.”

You nodded, and pushed yourself to your feet with effort. You were still very weak, and while your vision was slowly turning back to normal, you knew you wouldn’t be able to keep up like this. But you also knew that Hela was going to baby you no further, and so you made your feet work, taking one step at a time as Hela backed up with you. It took you a few moments to realize that she was keeping space between you so that she didn’t take any further energy from you. A small kindness that you were grateful for.

You continued like this all the way up the staircase and up into the main area of the ship. There was a window next to you, and you allowed yourself the opportunity to look outside at the ships that were whirring by and coming and going from the other ports around you. You’d never seen the Nova Corps ships in person before, and they were mesmerizing to watch.

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” Hela said after a moment, and you felt a little shy at being caught staring. “Like shooting stars.”

“Mm.” You turned around just in time to see Hela taking a basket from a servant and dipping her head in a slight nod before she looked back to you.

“I promised you some time off the ship.”

You couldn’t help the grateful smile that spread across your face, and you nodded, shuffling after her. “Thank you. Your highness, thank you.” You knew you were pushing your luck by not calling her by her name, as she’d asked you, but you wanted to keep appearances up in front of others, and Hela seemed to acknowledge this.

“Go on. After you.” Hela gestured to the entryway to the ship, which had been let down to provide a ramp down to the ground, and, after offering her another brief smile, you carefully made your way down and outside.

The warmth of the sun enveloped you in such an all-encompassing way that you came to a hard stop, closing your eyes as you reveled in the feel of it. Just as you’d hoped, you could feel your strength coming back to you, slowly but surely, and you kept your eyes closed, lips curling into a relieved smile as you began to feel more and more like yourself.

“That must feel wonderful, sweet girl. I’ve never seen you smile like that.” Hela’s voice was closer than it had been, but you could tell she was still keeping enough distance from you that you could properly come back to yourself. “…I should have let you come out sooner. It would have been better for you. Us.” She corrected herself so quickly that you couldn’t think much on what she’d said, and you only shrugged a shoulder.

“…I did try to tell you.” You hoped saying as much wasn’t going to earn you any more conflict than you’d already had today. You didn’t think you could handle any more trouble than that.

“…yes,” Hela said after a moment, with that same edge to her voice that you couldn’t quite understand, and you turned to look at her, but her expression was set and neutral. “Sit. I’ve put a blanket out. You eat and I’ll stay over here.” She perched herself on a rock and watched you as you began to eat, too hungry to feel embarrassed at your ravenous eating.

A comfortable silence settled over the both of you, and it lingered long after you had finished eating and you sat leaned back on your palms, face tilted toward the sky. You were keenly aware that Hela was watching you, but there was a small part of you that liked being watched like this, and so you said nothing about it.

“…you’re sure he didn’t hurt you?” Hela finally said after a while, and you opened your eyes to see the faintest hint of concern in her expression, despite her obvious efforts to hide it.

“Yes, but… Something… happened. Something felt weird for a moment.”

Hela’s brow furrowed. “In what way?”

“I don’t know how to explain it. It’s like my powers… fizzled, for a moment. Like I was drained so much that I simply… had nothing else to give. It was only for a moment. I’ve always wondered what would happen. If I just… didn’t have the energy to give any more. If I just… stop, or if I… die, or… what happens.”

Hela said nothing, but an unreadable expression crossed over her face. “You’ll never have to know.” She looked away from you then, and turned her face to the sky, as well. “I’ll make sure of it.”

[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.

[silversiren1101]

OOOoh ♜: Shoulder rubs for the Hellpair 👀

I was kind of hoping for this one!!! Shout out to @wonda-ch for sending the skin-crème mentioned here during the Valentines letters!

Contrary to what one would expect of a married couple, waking up with Regill still next to her in bed, asleep, worried Minovae far more often than not. Rarely did she have the liberty of enjoying his peaceful, sleeping expression on the chance she did wake first; known holidays and scheduled vacation allowing his subconscious to turn off that internal alarm of waking before even dawn broke the horizon.

This wasn't one of those mornings. It was a Wealday, and she knew for a fact he had multiple meetings today.

Her hand drew away from his brow, having found it warm but, blessedly, not as hot as she'd expected despite the tension in his unconscious expression. He was curled up into her side—another bad sign in and of itself—but he also wasn't the infernal furnace that would've woken her earlier if he was. The fever had made him seek out the cooling relief of her scales in the night, she knew; her tail had encouraged it too, having draped over him and pulled him close while pressing her soft feathers to his exposed back. She knew without a doubt why, but still, she had to confirm.

Peeking under the covers, the early grey light revealed at least not lines of black running up his arm, but deep purple, and with less spiderwebbing than usual.

'A milder flareup', she sighed with tempered relief.

They weren't as severe as they used to be, the infernal curse in his scars fading with both time and her influence. It was nearing the point she could break it completely, when her power as a nascent protean lord could pierce through this fading blight wrought by a full-fledged archdevil. The day couldn't come soon enough. She was done seeing him continue to pay for what had ultimately been her life with such suffering.

Too late for this morning, though.

With a resigned exhale, she slowly pushed the duvet down past her arms and shoulders, confirming with a stifled shiver that a chill had taken to the air overnight. The cold seasons were the worst of it for him, something about it aggravating the scars especially perniciously. Cheliax wasn't nearly as cold as Sarkoris, luckily. His health had improved markedly since returning to warmer home soil after the Crusade ended nearly two years ago now. Still, the chill was early this year and, with neither of them having expected it, his supplies were well out of reach, not stored beneath the bed as they were come winter.

There was nothing for it but to wake him and go fetch them. She knew him better than anyone and they'd done this enough times before: just get it over with. No pity. No pampering. No coddling him or overly gentle care. Treat it like a usual occurrence. Any additional attention only made him more irritable than the pain already did, exacerbating those feelings of frailty he despised so much. She understood well-enough, that fear of coming across as broken or incapable before the very people you were supposed to be leading—she only hoped that he knew that the Vice Knights, by and large, only respected him all the more for standing before them on these days when his disability was more visible than not.

She certainly did. She also wished her own attentions didn't fall into the same category, that he saw her care not as pity or a statement of his capability, but merely as those of a loving wife and fellow Hellknight of decades. She didn’t think him weak or lesser; how hypocritical that would make her? She only disliked seeing him suffering so, and would do many an unreasonable thing in his eyes to soothe it in any way if she could. It wasn’t personal, she knew, his touchiness regarding being cared for. He was a stubborn Hellknight and so was she, trained to push through every obstacle no matter the pain. Even so, there was no upside to risking the devotions she wanted to lavish upon him like this. It wasn’t that she feared his potential irritable reaction, no. She never feared him. She only feared making him feel worse by feeding the insecurities brought out during these moments. That, she would not risk. Especially not for something that would only go towards indulging in her emotional wants.

Sounds from Citadel Darvhage's courtyard below had begun drifting into their chambers, signaling that it was time to rip the bandage off—or blankets, in this case. The knights were beginning their day, and that meant their Lictor was behind schedule. Preparing herself for whatever disposition he might be in, she mentally quelled her nurturing, doting instincts and impulses. He loved her very much. It wasn’t a reflection of his feelings toward her that he would react poorly to any overly gentle care. Besides… she was much the same as a Hellknight herself, after all.

Time to get this started.

His brow was warm as she kissed it to begin waking him. The mild fever was palpable with contact, but faded quick from her lips as she pulled away to murmur softly in the space between them. Knuckles brushed his cheek before she cupped it and traced the contour with her thumb, all the while she swallowed down the worry as he took longer than expected to wake. In truth, it was only some seconds, but compared to how he usually snapped awake at the slightest provocation? It felt worryingly long. Relief cooled her fretting though when those yellow eyes groggily blinked open shortly later. They looked around blearily, clearly disoriented, before focus surged into them all at once upon processing the noise, the light in the room, the worry in her expression, and, of course, what must have surely been the terrible ache in his arm.

Regill groaned, half growling as realization turned to frustration and annoyance. “Ugh, Hells… again…”

He went to roll away from her, to shift to his back, only for him to hiss and wince as pain must have surged up his arm. His entire body stiffened. His other hand surged to his spasming arm. Even his knees drew up an inch further to his chest, that instinct to protect the vitals from danger when severe enough pain triggered it…

She stifled a concerned whine and the soft cooing that itched in her throat, instead placing a reassuring hand on his good shoulder. Her tail helped him to his back before retreating—something that took a deific effort. It had a will of its own, answering more to her heart than her mind; and, Hells, did her heart want to take him close and hold him until the pain went away. She wanted nothing more than to keep him in bed for the day and give him the permission to rest he would never allow himself, disability or no—permission he'd give to her with little issue, yet she knew she'd be just as resistant in his place.

Instead, she kept her face only mildly concerned.

"Good morning. Before you ask, no, it's not that late. You have time."

He peeked at her through bleached fingers, having started to rub at his nose and eyes. A single mote of appreciation flashed at her that nigh no one else would've been able to catch.

"...Good, and... good morning." His voice sounded rough, though she knew he'd power through it with coffee hot enough to risk a burn. He began to sit up, tired face tightening again as the pressure it put on his arm aggravated it once again. It wasn't as bad as previous times, no, but it didn't make it any easier for her to see and not pounce at him protectively for.

Instead, her hand shot out to his shoulder. A firm pressure bid him to lean and support himself against the headboard.

"Hold on, I said you have time, okay? I need to go get your things still. No need to rush just yet."

She was careful to keep her tone more neutral than worried, even a little commanding, not wanting him to pick up on anything he could misconstrue as pity or coddling and resist all the more for it. Their gazes held the other's for a brief moment before he, much to her relief, grunted and acquiesced.

"Alright", he grumbled, resigned. The headboard creaked as he rested his weight against it, letting his head loll back a little and eyes slip closed with a huff.

She froze, suspicious. Would he leap up as soon as she turned her back? Was there something else amiss? He was being too… agreeable. No, she couldn’t worry like this.

With that, she slipped off the bed and headed to the adjoining bathroom. The stone floor was cold beneath her bare feet, in such a rush she hadn't even bothered to step into her slippers. She didn’t even bother grabbing her robe to cover-up as she passed the chaise it'd been thrown over—and what for? It was only her dear husband present. Modesty was not an issue and the cold was only a minor one. Her scales would warm shortly with the exposure, reacting to the air's chill. She also knew exactly where everything she needed was, no searching required. Tucked away in a medic's case in one of the cabinets of the bathroom, she undid the clasps and double-checked the contents: salve; bandages; adhesives; braces—wrist and elbow; and last, that dreaded sling. She doubted he needed the full sling today, and with any luck he would be able to go with only some bandages today… Still, the entire case came with as she returned to their bedroom and the bed.

And found him, surprisingly, exact as she'd left him. A part of her had expected to find him with legs already hanging over the side of the bed, angling to get up and push himself as he had so stubbornly and deliriously done the previous flareups. Her rush had partially been spurred by such a concern, but, no, he remained as he had been, save for the blankets kicked further down the bed and legs freed.

He raised his brows at her surprise, a bit more evident in her expression than she'd intended.

"You can't blame me for being surprised after the previous times, love", she retorted to that look. More weariness creeped into her tone than she intended.

A flash of a irritable grimace tugged at the corner of his mouth before he inhaled deeply and sighed. "You said I had time. I am choosing to believe you."

"'Choosing'", she repeated with a snort, tone more sarcastic than not. "What an honor, that my husband has 'chosen' to believe me."

Still, there was a part of it that most certainly was not, and she felt a slash of regret that it'd leaked out—just the briefest reminder to him that she had hard feelings over the restraint she showed when caring for him. He most certainly picked up on it, she could tell. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly, lips pressing together lightly before he turned away, looking out the window instead.

Dammit. This is exactly what she'd been trying to avoid. Why were they both such terrible, terrible patients?

Because they were Hellknights, duh.

Silence otherwise descended on them as she got to work. Setting the case down on the nightstand, the salve tin found its way to her hand in short order. She popped the lid and the smell hit her nose instantly: delicate like rose petals with a hint of cream from sheep's milk, but with an added sharpness like the freshest of cinnamon and black pepper. The strange concoction had tilted both of their heads at first, but it'd taken only that very first application for them to appreciate it as the only thing that helped him aside from the prohibitively expensive and painful sun orchid salve that'd saved his life those years ago, when the wounds had been fresh. This one, at least, was a gift from a dear friend, of which they were only more than happy to send more as requested—in exchange for a bottle of wine, at least.

She went to scoop out a generous portion of the oily paste, but stopped.

One try. She had to.

"...Perhaps you should skip your first meeting? It is only your staff meeting... Wolka and Yaker will understand if I take your place."

A pointless attempt.

His head turned back towards her. Annoyance and indignation flared in those eyes.

“‘Only?’ You know the staff meeting determines all operations for the day”, he snapped.

She didn’t let it get to her. It wasn’t personal.

Suddenly, though, something almost apologetic met her in those gorgeous yellow eyes. His lips parted before pressing together, and he exhaled like deflating. Her eyes widened, shocked by the shift, but softened as she recognized that look: he hadn’t meant that, and was quite remorseful for it.

“…Besides… the pain is only a five or so, this time”, he muttered. His tone was muted, only making her yearn and ache further to hold him softly. Sweetly.

His answer at least was good. She knew crossing the half-way threshold on his pain scale meant it was only just beginning to impact his capabilities. A five? They would bring this down to a one at most after this. Maybe then, he would accept an embrace, seeing it only as her love—the truth—and not pity thanks to the lens of his chronic pain tainting her perception. Why was it so easy to hug and hold and kiss him any time he didn’t actually need it?

Stubborn even for a Hellknight.

“A five is good. It’s getting lesser every time…”, she murmured, before speaking louder. “Time to get this over with. Should be quick this time.”

He exhaled a sigh and made a short sound in affirmation, preparing himself.

Knowing it wasn’t as bad today as before, she scooped out half of what she'd initially thought to from the tin. The tips of her fingers cooled beneath it, feeling almost tingly, and, with an extra swallowing down of her doting care, she wasted no time getting to work.

He hissed and grunted the second it touched his skin.

She slathered it in a thick strip up and down his arm to start, following the line of deep, bulging purple that was his scar. It was best to get full coverage before starting to massage it in, letting it start its soothing before the pain really started. From the especially ragged slash across his palm, to his forearm, skipping the elbow where the cursed blade had also skipped, back to his upper arm where it’d found his flesh again especially deep, and finally his shoulder where it’d nicked the bone before meeting air once again, she ensured no place was missed before sitting back, letting it set for a few moments so the pain could dull.

His deep breathing, slightly strained, filled the otherwise silence between them. Seconds more passed even after he deflated in relief, broken then by something she didn’t expect.

“…Thank you.”

She snapped her attention up to his gaze once more, finding that apologetic expression once again. Affection twinged in her chest, as did something like amusement and endearment.

“You know that’s not necessary”, she murmured. Her tail lifted from the edge of the bed where it’d been anxiously coiling all over itself on the floor. He closed his eyes as the feathers brushed his face, then seemingly accepting as the willful, mischievous appendage lay across his lap. “I love you, of course I’m here for you.”

He would do it himself if he could, and a part of her, selfishly, was happy he couldn’t. She wouldn’t be able to take it all if she couldn’t even help him in this was.

He grunted, though, as if correcting her assumption. “It’d occurred to me that the other times you’ve had to help me with this, I hadn’t actually thanked you.”

Because you literally couldn’t, she didn’t say, teasing or not. The previous times, where the pain had been eights or nines, he hadn’t able to do much more than groan and whimper until the pain had settled to a more manageable four—leaving him irritable, but at least mobile.

“Again, it’s not necessary, love. I just wish you were a better patient.”

His eyes narrowed as he smirked. “I could say the same for you.”

He could. He should. Maybe they would both get somewhere more agreeable, then.

“Well, your thanks is accepted.” She smiled, and relished the way the light dusting of red at his ear tips revealed just what he thought of her. “Now, let me finish up so you aren’t late to this meeting you insist on being present for.”

He rumbled in affirmation, yet still tensed beneath her touch as she took his hand in both of hers, anticipating the ache. His own grabbed at her tail, fingers threading through her feathers—a new development for him. The tip of it rattled approvingly, and the fan at the end shifted to lay against his bare chest ready to soothingly brush, reassuringly soft.

Not wanting to draw this out, her thumbs pressed deep. He jerked, head lolling backward as he squeezed harder at her tail. Her heart cried inside, but outwardly, she pressed on, beginning to massage the salve in to the bulging, inflamed purple line knowing that it wouldn’t hurt at all in comparison shortly. She even worked faster than usual knowing he was only at a five today, making steady progress up his arm. His palm, his worst and forearm, his upper arm, and his shoulder. It took only minutes, and even then, he’d stopped gripping at her so tightly by the time she was halfway finished. Satisfied, she took a look over her handwork to much relief: the purple was already starting to dim and fade already, not nearly as angry as before. It’d most likely be that pale silvery color again by the time they were back in bed again this evening.

“…Done?” Even his voice sounded better than it usually did post-treatment.

“Well, do you think you’ll need either of the braces?”

“No. It already barely aches me.” He even started to flex his joints as if to prove his point, only to jolt and wince slightly once he got to his shoulder.

She made a short sound at that, frowning at him. It also, though, gave her an idea, and she’d worked fast enough that they had time for it.

Her tail abruptly withdrew from his lap. He gave her a quizzical look as she gently tugged him forward, off the headboard.

“Come, sit up. Legs off the bed and me behind you. Don’t give me that look, you have time.” She then grinned at him pointedly. “That is, if you still choose to believe me.”

He grumbled, but knew better than to resist with that comment leveraged against him. She reached for the salve once again, only grabbing just enough this time to allow her fingers and thumb to glide—especially across the gnarled scarred mass of his reckoning scars.

“Is this really necessary? The stiffness will be worked out through the day—!”

He cut off into a gasp, which melted sensuously into a deep groan. She smirked, smiling into his hair as she massaged deep into his wounded shoulder, strong hands of a nascent demigoddess and lifetime warrior wreaking upon him what sounded like such bliss. He practically melted back against her, pooling into her breasts as if the tension of the pain was the only thing that’d been keeping him upright.

There was more than just that, though. She could sense the stress of their shadow war against House Thrune in those stiff shoulders, and not to mention the stress of reforming an entire defunct Hellknight order in their own image.

“By the Chain… you know you can ask for this any time. You’re stiffer than the stick up Asmodeus’ ass.”

He said nothing to that, save for a begrudging roll of his eyes. She knew he’d never ask.

She just noted to herself to do this more often.

[ducknotinarow]

03/07 RaphVon - [🎁] our muses exchange holiday gifts

| SEND AN EMOJI FOR A STARTER ! ↳ winter season & holiday based

Leave it to Mikey to somehow get Von and Don to agree to the baby shower idea. But hey did go all out even though at some point it seemed he forgot that it was meant for the mother seeing how the banned had to have Don's nah scribbled out and replaced by Von's. Idiot. Was Raphael's main thought as he been hanging back during most of this thing. Mikey manged to pull a few of the invited parties into the games which just seemed dumb to Raphael. He purposely said 'baby' near the start and gave his pin away to whoever was nearest to him and sort of hung towards the back of it all. The baby shower wasn't really his thing.

When he noticed Von as some point seem to take a moment to rest well Mikey had another of his game ready to start up. Raphael took it as a opening. As he made his way to sit beside Von. Holding a gift bag near his side just enough to keep it from Von's sight as he joined her. "Hey least Mikey invited you to your own baby shower in the end 'ight?" He smirks a little her way paying a second to make sure Von was fine. Offering to help her sit down if she needed it. But of course like Raph expected she was handling the whole being pregnant thing very well. But that was Yvonne for you stubborn to the bone.

Raphael's attention turned back to the party they were currently bobbing for pacifiers everyone Mikey got to go along with it had a bowl of water before them and had their hands set behind their backs. The goal was who ever got all three in their own bowls first won and Mikey manged to capture all of his before anyone else. He could just feel the flash backs to the Battle Nexus showing before his vision. Great that was going to be something to look forward too, man he is for sure staying with Casey tonight after this. "Though somehow I 'hink this turned into more for Mikey than either of youes." Raph points out.

Which took him back to his reasoning of sitting beside her now, away from everyone else, he knows they all had a gift to give for the baby coming. They were sure of the gender yet but a baby still needed anything they could offer. Or in some cases make. It was a sort of secret and not a secret. In that no one under any circumstances was to ever mention the fact that Raphael knew how to knit. But it wasn't like no one knew about him able to do so. Splinter had had him take up the habit in an effort to help Raphael with that ever burning flame the fueled his temper. And he found comfort in the repeated action. Splinter was the first to ever receive a gift made by Raph. And slowly everyone did. Sure it wasn't really for Von but thats how these worked the gift was to the mother for the baby. Von was just much more a risky gamble because she liked to push that whole deal when it came to fact about Raphael.

He still grabbed at the gift bag and held it out in front of her. Looking far off to the side not even towards the party, selecting a random brick in the wall to focus his gaze on to. "yeah I know were doin' gifts at the end but 'm gonna try ditch soon as I can. So wanna make sure you get 'his is all."

Raphael expresses only turning to face her again when he felt the weight of the bag leave his own hand. Slightly peering over to watch her look into the paper shopping bag, Peering in and it was clear to see right away that there was a purple knitted blanket in there. Bands of two shades purple and near the top right corner was a small fish done in a even dark shade of color. It was clear this had taken longer and more time to make compared to most of the other knitted gifts Raphael had ever given. Sort of outing a few more thing about this little hobby of the rough and gruff turtle. It was thanks to some help, outside help from a Ms. Morrison that he may have learned a bit more he could do.

Raphael wouldn't explain it but he did put a lot of thought into the look of the blanket he know both Don and Von had a liking for the color purple so course it was going to be those similar shades they both wore. The fish in their own shade of purple. Part of him wanted to try and make it look like the usual silhouette look of Ariel from the move Don just loved to death. But it had proved to be too hard for him to really do at the time. Besides? who was to say their kid would also like the movie? Pretty sure they would one way or another actually. So a fish seemed fitting in the end. Von like to sit out by the docks same as Raph after all and it tied back to the sea that Donnie loved and wanted to explore the depths of. Raphael felt it worked. And made sense and glared a dagger at Casey every time he sat down to work on it at the apartment. Or when he tried to ask for his partners thought about it because of how much thought he was expressing was going in towards the creation.

"I see that look on your face Von." Not really she was on his right side after all but he didn't need to be actively looking at her to know she was in fact making some sort of expression that would likely annoy him right now. "Kid needs a blanket 'ight? well should get a new one and not 'ike we can really come by that so easy." Okay sure Casey or April could help with that but then it was more a gift from Casey or April and not Raphael. Which is why he opted to making one himself. After all he knew how to do it.

Raphael finally sighs and givens in feeling better to get it over with as he twists a little to better face her. "What?" He says it like a warning, it was pointless Von was never really deterred but the tough act. Didn't stop the red banded turtle from giving it though. Even if he knew she wouldn't be thrown off by it. "Get it over wit' ya ya Raph made a blanket for the baby whatever ain't a big deal." He says doing his best to keep to his act. "Knew I shoulda jus' left with out givin' it to you personally." yeah right he wanted it know he had done it even if it meant dealing with this now.