#perhaps fluff overload

[iamgonnagetyouback]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ⠀────۶ৎ christmas

synopsis: ever since you married regulus, you knew holidays were a bit complicated for him. so when the potters invite you both for christmas, he panics the whole way there, convinced sirius secretly hates him. but between toddler harry’s antics, warm welcomes, and an unexpected gift, maybe this christmas isn’t so bad after all content warnings: heavy emotions, crying (so much crying), brotherly angst & reconciliation, regulus overthinking everything, fluff overload author's note: i literally sobbed while writing this

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ᡣ𐭩 words.ᐟ 2,301

Regulus Black rarely trembled. He was a man of precision, poise, and well-practiced restraint. Yet here he stood, fidgeting with the cuffs of his tailored coat, staring at the warmly lit Potter residence as though it were a dragon’s lair. His free hand clasped yours tightly, clammy despite the biting chill of December air.

“Amour,” he began nervously, his tone a mixture of urgency and dread, “are you certain the invitation was for me too? Perhaps Lily and James only meant you, and it would be terribly awkward if—”

“Reg.” You squeezed his hand, cutting through his spiral. “You’re overthinking this. They invited both of us. Lily wrote your name herself, remember? In that beautiful gold ink? You’re family.”

His jaw tensed, his grey eyes darting to the door and then back to you. “Family,” he echoed softly, the word heavy with doubt and hope intertwined. “It’s been years. Sirius—he’s—what if—”

“What if he’s been waiting for this moment?” you interrupted gently, reaching up to cup his face. His eyes softened, the worry in them breaking your heart. “You’re here because they want you here. And so do I. Sirius will come around, love. And if he doesn’t, you’ll have me to hex him. Alright?”

A ghost of a smile flickered across his lips, though his fingers still fidgeted. He leaned into your touch for a moment, taking a deep breath before he muttered, “I still think this might be a mistake.”

“It’s not,” you assured him, squeezing his hand again as you turned to knock on the door. Before your knuckles could meet the wood, his voice stopped you.

“Amour, wait,” he said quickly. “Are you absolutely certain? What if—”

You silenced him with a pointed look, raising an eyebrow. “Regulus Arcturus Black, if you ask me one more time, I’ll drag you inside myself.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it, nodding reluctantly. “Alright,” he whispered, though his grip on your hand tightened as the door swung open.

Lily stood there, her radiant smile lighting up the wintry evening. “You’re here!” she exclaimed warmly, pulling you into a hug before turning to Regulus. Her arms wrapped around him without hesitation, her genuine affection clear. “Regulus, welcome.”

He stiffened at first, his posture rigid and uncertain. But then, slowly, he returned the hug, a quiet “Thank you” escaping him. You could see the way his shoulders began to relax, the faintest sheen of tears in his eyes as he pulled back.

“Come in, come in,” Lily urged, her excitement genuine as she ushered you both inside.

James appeared next, his grin as boyish as ever. “Look who decided to join the fun!” he teased, clapping Regulus on the shoulder. “About time, mate.”

“James,” Regulus greeted stiffly, his voice carefully polite but uncertain. He glanced at you, and you smiled encouragingly. James didn’t seem fazed by Reg’s formality, stepping aside with a welcoming gesture.

Before anyone could say more, a small figure darted out from behind James, a mop of black hair bouncing as the toddler jumped forward with a loud “BAH!” aimed directly at Regulus.

Regulus froze, staring down at the child with wide eyes. Harry, oblivious to the tension, pouted, his tiny face scrunching in disappointment. “He’s not scared!” he whined, looking up at James for confirmation.

“Oh no,” Regulus said suddenly, his voice low and serious. He stepped back dramatically, clutching his chest as though struck. “You’ve frightened me terribly!” His grey eyes widened in mock terror, and his hand shot to yours for support.

Harry’s pout disappeared instantly, replaced by an elated giggle. “I scared him!” he cried, jumping up and down with glee. “Mum, I scared him!”

“You sure did, darling!” Lily laughed, beaming at her son.

James ruffled Harry’s hair with exaggerated pride. “Great job, young man. Now, go on, bring your uncle and aunt inside.”

Regulus froze at the word, his gaze snapping to James. He seemed to falter for a moment, swallowing hard as emotion flickered across his face. Then, a tiny tug on his coat brought him back.

“Come on, Uncle!” Harry demanded with a toothy grin, his little hands pulling insistently.

Regulus stared down at him, his breath catching. Slowly, hesitantly, a small, soft smile crept onto his lips. He bent down and lifted Harry into his arms, the toddler laughing as he looped his arms around Reg’s neck.

You watched, your chest tightening with emotion as tears pricked your eyes. The sight of Regulus, holding Harry so tenderly despite his nerves, was enough to overwhelm you. He turned to you, his smile shy but genuine, and you couldn’t resist leaning in to kiss both his cheek and Harry’s.

“See?” you whispered against his ear. “You’re exactly where you belong.”

Regulus didn’t reply, but the tear that slipped down his cheek as he carried Harry inside said everything.

The warmth of the Potter home enveloped you as you wandered into the kitchen, leaving Regulus in the living room with Harry still babbling excitedly in his arms. The sound of laughter and soft music filled the air, and the smell of something sweet baking teased your senses. You stepped inside, only to pause at the sight before you.

Peter Pettigrew and Mary Macdonald stood by the counter, hands brushing as they decorated a tray of cookies. Peter was a blushing mess, his usually pale cheeks bright pink as Mary whispered something that had him grinning like a schoolboy.

You cleared your throat loudly, hiding a smirk as they jumped apart, the spatula Mary had been holding clattering onto the counter. Peter looked like a deer caught in headlights, and Mary’s blush matched the rosy frosting she was piping.

“Am I interrupting something?” you teased, leaning against the doorframe.

“Bun!” Peter exclaimed, his voice a bit too high-pitched as he tried to regain his composure. “You’re here! We were just… uh, baking! Cookies!”

Mary rolled her eyes fondly but recovered quicker, smiling warmly at you. “Welcome, sweetie. It’s so good to see you again.”

“Good to see you too,” you replied with a chuckle. “And no need to explain. You two are adorable, by the way.”

Peter fumbled with the tray of cookies, muttering something under his breath as Mary handed you a warm one to taste. “Here, try these,” Peter said eagerly, watching your expression with nervous anticipation.

You bit into the cookie and hummed appreciatively. “Delicious. Seriously, you two make a great team in the kitchen. And overall.”

Peter blushed, but before he could say anything, Regulus stepped into the room. His presence seemed to shift the energy, quieting Peter’s usual bumbling nature.

“Regulus,” Mary greeted him brightly, her grin widening as you gave her a nod. She quickly plated a few cookies and handed them to him. “Here, try one. We’ve been working on these for ages.”

Regulus took the plate with a small, reluctant smile, glancing briefly at you as if for guidance. He picked up a cookie and took a careful bite, pausing as the flavors settled. Then, to everyone’s surprise, his lips curved into the faintest smile.

“They’re wonderful, Mary,” he said softly, nodding in approval.

You raised an eyebrow playfully. “And?”

Regulus hesitated, his gaze flickering to Peter, who was looking at him with wide, hopeful eyes. “...And Peter,” he added with a slight smirk.

Mary and Peter both grinned, looking utterly pleased with themselves. “Thanks, Regulus,” they said in unison, earning a chuckle from you.

The lighthearted moment was interrupted by the sound of the door creaking open. You turned to see Remus stepping in, his tall frame illuminated by the kitchen lights. He smiled warmly, his gaze soft as it landed on you.

“Dove,” he greeted, pulling you into a quick hug. “You look lovely as ever.” Then, turning to Regulus, he nodded. “Glad you made it, Regulus. Sirius will be joining in a minute.”

Regulus stiffened at those words, his hand instinctively seeking yours as his usual calm façade faltered. After exchanging pleasantries with Remus, he pulled you aside, his voice dropping to a frantic whisper.

“Did you hear him?” Regulus asked, his panic barely contained. “‘Sirius will be joining in a minute.’ That’s code for ‘he’s furious I’m here.’ I knew this was a mistake. Oh, Merlin, I should leave. I’ll just make an excuse—would they believe me if I said Barty accidentally set Evan on fire?”

You tried not to laugh, gently placing your hands on his shoulders. “Reg, no one’s furious you’re here. Sirius might be dramatic, but he doesn’t hate you. And yes, they would believe that excuse, love. But just stay with me, okay? You’re doing fine.”

Regulus opened his mouth to argue, but the sound of a door opening again silenced him. Both of you turned as Sirius stepped into the room, his grey eyes instantly locking onto you.

“Doll,” Sirius greeted with a grin, pulling you into a quick hug and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Missed you.”

“Missed you too,” you replied, giving him a warm smile.

Then Sirius’s gaze shifted to Regulus. His expression softened slightly, though his tone held a quiet intensity as he spoke. “Can I talk to you alone, Regulus?”

Regulus tensed beside you, his hand gripping yours like a lifeline. His wide eyes darted to you in panic, but you just smiled reassuringly and leaned in to whisper, “You’ve got this.”

You blew him a quick kiss before stepping away, leaving him and Sirius alone in the kitchen. As you walked out, you caught Sirius glancing at you, his face unreadable, before turning back to his brother.

Sirius leaned against the counter, his arms crossed as he studied his brother with a carefully neutral expression. Regulus, for his part, was stiff as ever, his fingers twitching slightly as he tried to suppress his nerves.

“So…” Sirius began, dragging the word out. “You’re here.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow. “I am. And you’re here.”

Sirius’s lips twitched upward in a small, begrudging smile. “Merry Christmas, by the way.”

Regulus shifted on his feet. “You too.”

An awkward silence settled between them, the kind that years of estrangement couldn’t quite fill. Sirius scratched the back of his neck, clearly searching for the right words. Finally, he cleared his throat.

“I actually have something for you,” he said, his voice softer than usual.

Regulus blinked, startled. “You… do?”

Sirius nodded, his usual bravado muted as he turned and disappeared into the hallway. Regulus stood frozen, glancing back at the kitchen door as if considering fleeing, but before he could, Sirius returned. In his hands was a small package, wrapped haphazardly in parchment and tied with a crooked ribbon.

“Here,” Sirius said, shoving it toward him. “It’s, uh, not much.”

Regulus stared at the package, his brow furrowing. “I wasn’t aware there was going to be gift exchanging.”

“There’s not,” Sirius replied quickly, waving him off. “Just take it, alright?”

Regulus hesitated, then reached out and accepted the gift with the same care one might use to handle a priceless artifact. He carefully untied the ribbon and peeled back the paper, revealing a neatly folded sweater inside. The soft fabric was midnight blue, and embroidered on the chest was a constellation—the Regulus star, shining bright—and a black dog stitched beside it, looking up toward the stars.

For a moment, Regulus just stared at it, his fingers brushing over the stitching. His throat tightened, and when he finally looked up, his eyes were glossy with unshed tears.

“I…” he began, but his voice failed him.

Sirius, clearly uncomfortable with the silence, began rambling. “I, uh, had some help from Remus, of course. I’m rubbish with sewing—nearly stabbed myself a dozen times. And the constellation—Remus said it should be accurate, so we looked it up in one of his star charts, and—"

The rest of his sentence was cut off as Regulus surged forward, wrapping his arms tightly around Sirius. A quiet sob escaped him as he buried his face against Sirius’s shoulder, his grip firm and unyielding.

Sirius froze for a moment before exhaling shakily. A small smile tugged at his lips as he returned the embrace, his own tears slipping free as he clung to his younger brother.

They stayed like that for a long moment, the tension between them melting away in the quiet of the kitchen.

When Regulus finally pulled back, his face was tear-streaked but calmer. Sirius gave him a lopsided grin and clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“Come on, Reggie,” Sirius said, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m pretty sure dinner’s ready. And you know how James gets when people are late to the table.”

Regulus nodded, wiping his face as he smiled faintly. “Alright.”

Together, they stepped into the kitchen, their bond mended in a way neither had expected when the evening began. Everyone glanced up as they entered, noticing the tear tracks on both their faces, but no one said a word. Instead, they simply smiled and made room for the two brothers to join the gathering.

Regulus slid into the seat beside you, and Sirius took his place next to Remus. You gave Regulus a soft, knowing smile, gently squeezing his hand under the table. He squeezed back, his heart lighter than it had been in years.

The room soon filled with laughter as Harry began reenacting his earlier “scare” on an unsuspecting Remus, who pretended to faint dramatically. James and Lily chuckled, Mary and Peter exchanged amused glances, and Sirius leaned back in his chair, his arm draped casually around Remus as he laughed at Harry’s antics.

As you looked around the table, your hand still intertwined with Regulus’s, you couldn’t help but think that this was what Christmas was truly about—family, love, and finding light even after the darkest of times.

Merry Christmas, indeed.

© iamgonnagetyouback ⋆.˚ please do not copy, translate, or repost any of my work.

[lowkeyren]

reverse dating tropes w hsr men! (pt. 2)

in which — what the title suggests / those classic fanfic tropes but with a twist

featuring — gepard, aventurine, sunday (separately) x gn!reader

✧.* — wc: total 2.1k, downbad gepard + flirty aven + sunday is js fluff overload, wrecked my brain out for this, serval robin cameo xx, anyway pls enjoy!! reblogs r appreciated <3

boothill jing yuan blade vers here!

gepard ♡‧₊˚

"blind date" but gepard is just too shy to ask you out himself so serval does him a favour —setting you up on a date with him.

gepard clutches the bouquet of ball peonies tightly behind his back; he catches sight of you sitting on a bench, patiently waiting for him. to ease his nerves, he takes a deep breath, reassuring himself, it’s going to be alright gepard, just go over there, give them the flowers, and ask them out! surely it’s not that hard…

upon spotting him, you rise from your seat and wave eagerly in his direction. he hastens his steps, closing the distance between you. as he stands in front of you, you can see a faint blush tinting his cheeks, the rosy hue contrasting with his fair skin. he clears his throat, “ahem…sorry to keep you waiting.” revealing the bouquet behind his back, he averts his gaze downwards, shifting his weight nervously from one foot to the other.

you accept the flowers graciously, smiling warmly at him. “and would you please—” in that moment, his gaze flickers up to meet yours, it's the worst thing he could have done. 

oh aeons… you look so beautiful. his heart races, threatening to leap out of his chest, and he finds himself at a loss for words, his mind a jumble of thoughts and emotions. “hm?” you tilt your head with a soft smile, the sound of your voice washes over him like a gentle breeze, leaving him tongue-tied. he’s sure you can see the redness spreading to his ears now.

panicking, he blurts out “—pass the flowers to my sister.” (re: go on a date with me) 

his eyes widened at his own words, wait no he meant to ask you out on a date! 

“ah… okay, no problem!” you reply, masking your surprise with a polite smile, quickly dismissing any lingering curiosity. though you do find it a bit odd that he would arrange a meeting just to pass on flowers to his sister, but hey perhaps as the captain of silvermane guards, he's simply too busy to visit serval himself. in any case, you admire his thoughtfulness towards his sibling.

“now tell me brother dearest, to what do i owe the pleasure of receiving ball peonies from you?” serval crosses her arm across her chest, learning against her workbench, her face deadpan, oh she’s definitely aware of what happened.

sensing her brother’s nervousness, she shakes her head teasingly. "oh, nevermind! please, spare me the explanation… you totally fumbled, and told them to give the flowers to me? really, geppie? and how long do you plan to drag this out for?" 

gepard sighs as he realises there's no use in trying to deflect her sharp observation. he can only resort to his last-ditch effort now: asking serval to set you up on a date with him. 

so now, you find yourself sitting at a cozy diner, waiting for your so-called “blind date” that serval has set you up on.

(“i guarantee you won’t regret it!” serval throws a playful wink at you; you give up trying to figure her underlying intentions) 

suddenly, a man walks over to you, you assume that he is your date— “gepard? what are you doing here..?” gepard's cheeks flush with embarrassment as he stands before you, a sheepish smile playing at the corners of his lips. "i, uh... i’m your blind date." he admits, swallowing nervously. 

you let out a soft laugh, “oh i was hoping it would be you.” you admit, your voice tinged with a hint of bashfulness.

hoping it was him? so that means you feel the same right?

needless to say, your date went well. before you part ways, you press a soft kiss to his already-burning cheeks (don’t do that again, you’re gonna break him), and you disappear into the distance, leaving behind a trail of butterflies in his stomach; he presses his hand against the spot you pecked, he thinks he might not be able to sleep for the next few nights, what you have done to the poor guy. 

oh gepard, he is so deeply, utterly, in love with you.  

aventurine ୨୧｡˚ ⋆

CEO playboy aventurine takes an interest in you, but you unintentionally lead him on, so he ends up falling heads over heels for you.

“meet me in my office in 5 minutes.” you immediately pause at what you’re doing, and read the message from your boss over and over again. oh gosh you’re really done for now! what did you do wrong?! your mind races as you try to recall any mistakes you’ve made recently, but nothing comes to mind… 

you nervously knock on the door to aventurine’s office, feeling your palms grow clammy with sweat. a voice rings out, “ah, yes please come in.”

you step into the room, not daring to meet your boss’ gaze. “i’m here sir, as you requested. is there anything you need from me?” you suddenly find the marble floor very interesting, opting to stare at it as you anxiously wait for his reply.

aww, are they really that shy to see me? that’s cute.

aventurine’s next sentence catches you completely off guard, “so, what do you think about my new tie, hm?” he walks over to you, a smirk forming on his lips.

is this one of his stupid schemes again? aeons, this won’t work on you.

“...it's crooked. let me fix it for you.” you reach out and adjust his tie, being careful as to not accidentally choke him (even if you really want to, just because he scared the shit out of you by calling you into his office for something like this), lest you get fired.

aventurine is pleasantly taken aback by your boldness. usually those who fall victim to his flirtatious ways are quick to shower him with compliments, but your reaction is refreshingly unexpected. or perhaps you are challenging him? oh well, a little gamble never hurts, right?

it's obvious he’s taken a liking to you; for the next few weeks, he's been calling you to his office more and more frequently, to the point where you're no longer nervous to enter, as you know it’s probably nothing serious. plus, you’ve gotten used to the “strange” reasons he requests for your presence.

including the times where he made you do your work in his office, claiming that he feels lonely and needs your (it can only be you, no one else) company. or the many-times that you told him to manage his money wisely because he CANNOT be spending thousands on you. 

“just a small gift for my favourite employee!” (and it's a whole ass car that costs way above your pay grade)

at this point, you're beginning to think he should hire a secretary. you subconsciously bring the idea up during one of your visits, what you didn’t expect was for him to eagerly agree with you. his eyes twinkle with amusement, “no wonder you’re my favourite, of course you’re interested in being my secretary, well lucky you! your new position begins tomorrow.” 

so instead of hiring a secretary like any normal person would, he makes YOU his secretary. and hey, when did you ever express that you would like to be his secretary? this scumbag…

“oh don’t be so nervous sweetheart, just sort these out for me—” he hands you a folder of documents, his fingers deliberately brushing against yours, lingering for a moment longer than necessary. “and stay here while you work on them.. want to see your pretty face.”

you think your boss is insufferable, even more so now that you’ve fallen for his charms. it's as if he enjoys playing this game of cat and mouse, keeping you on your toes with his teasing remarks and lingering touches. yet beneath the facade of annoyance, there’s something undeniably alluring about the way he looks at you, as if you're the only person in the room. well you’re not far off; you are the sole focus of his attention. 

like right now, while you attempt to maintain your composure under his unmistakably, shameless, lovesick gaze; his lips curl into a mischievous smirk,  “oh by the way, dinner's on me tonight. choose whatever you like." with a coy smile, you decide to tease him, “what? can’t even ask me out properly?” you quip, raising an eyebrow in faux innocence.

and later that night you find your boss on one knee, waiting at your front porch, in his hands are freshly bought flowers. his eyes immediately light up the moment you open the door, a horrified look on your face. “will you go on a date with me?” oh how he delights in your flustered expression.

“i said ask me out! not get down on one knee and propose!” 

“...so will you?”

don’t worry, he knows you'll look forward to the day he proposes (you’re not even dating, yet) but for now he’ll spoil you with the most lavish meal known to mankind, not that you’re complaining about it either. 

sunday ༊*·˚

not-so-accidental confession with sunday who intentionally leads you to overhear him talking about his feelings for you. 

you raise your hand, ready to knock on the door, but a voice from inside halts your movement. you hesitate, your knuckles hovering just inches away from the wood, as the unexpected sound piques your curiosity. 

“brother, why didn’t you tell me this before?” it’s no doubt that the soft-spoken voice belongs to robin, her tone carrying a tinge of surprise; and by the way she addresses the other person, it can't be anyone but sunday himself. 

their conversation sounds tense, you think it's inappropriate to eavesdrop, but just as you were about to leave, sunday's voice catches your attention, and you freeze at the sound of your name slipping past his lips. 

“—their infectious laugh, how their eyes light up with pure innocence, their unwavering passion and selflessness that knows no bounds; always putting others before themselves. how can i possibly not love them?”

your face flushes with warmth upon hearing his words, and you're unable to suppress a cough that escapes; you bring your hands to your mouth, hoping to stifle any further embarrassment.

robin chuckles, “oh brother, i understand exactly what you mean”, a genuine smile spreads across her face. “...seems like you’re expecting a guest” she raises an eyebrow knowingly, “i’ll take my leave now." with that, she gives sunday a reassuring pat on the shoulder and gracefully exits the room, shooting you a playful wink as she walks by.

uh oh… you’re totally busted

you immediately turn on your heels, trying to slip away before sunday realises you're there. but just before you can make your escape, someone grabs your wrist, holding you firmly in place. you turn around to see sunday looking down at you, his eyes flickering with emotions swirling within him.

"i swear i didn't hear anything!" you exclaim, waving your hand in front of you defensively.

“really…nothing?”

“yup! nothing at all.” you lie through your teeth, cringing at yourself.

“nothing? ...but i made sure you were there to hear everything.” a hint of disappointment evident in his voice.

“huh..?” your expression twists with confusion, a faint blush creeping up from your neck. you were meant to hear that? he just poured his heart out to his sister…about you! 

sunday smiles, oh there’s no point in lying now, he knows you heard him. (as expected)

he steps closer to you, his arms caging you between the wall and himself. “you know i meant everything i said right?” a soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips, leaving you momentarily speechless, unsure of how to respond; you can feel your chest swelling with warmth, his wings flutter subconsciously as he awaits your response. 

“y-yes…” you avert your gaze, too shy to stare into his eyes. “please, look at me…” he gently tilts your chin up, his eyes boring into yours. “i wanted to tell you that i love you, for so long” he looks vulnerable at that moment, a side he only ever shows to you; a side of him only you get to see.

“i love y—” sunday gently places his finger on your lips, silencing you. you tilt your head at his gesture, your mouth still agape. “don’t say it back yet…” moving his hand to hold your face, “allow me to take you out on a date, then tell me how you feel.” you interlace your fingers with the his that rest against your face, nodding your head in acceptance.

though sunday longs for you to utter those 3 words to him, he wants to make that moment perfect, just as you are to him. despite sunday’s intention for you to overhear him, he regrets not being able to catch your reaction to his words, so next time (re: on the date), he vows to repeat it as many times as necessary; he will do anything to fulfill your every wish.

and should you desire for him to put a ring on your finger, he will do it in a heartbeat. 

✧.*

masterlist boothill jing yuan blade vers here!

[yupstillaghost]

✨️Halo & Horns🥀

Part 2

Erik Campbell x Pastor's Daughter Reader

Part 1

Summary: Your parents said you're not allowed to see Erik again after your father caught you alone with him. Erik is unphased by your father's threats towards him, so he makes an attempt to contact you.

Warnings: oral piercing, swearing, strict parents, talks of religion, extreme romantic tension and tooth rotting fluff, shirtless Erik. MDNI

Other: No use of Y/N, description of articals of clothing reader is wearing, but no physical description of reader.

Author's note: so many people wanted to be on the tag list, but unfortunately, I'm capped at 50 mentions per post. So if you didn't make it, I'm sorry 😞 also not me just getting a sudden burst of inspiration and deciding to drop part 2 out of nowhere.

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As soon as you got home from the Campbell's house, you received a lengthy lecture from your parents on the importance of supervised dating. Your father explained that temptation is everywhere, and it's always waiting for us to have a moment of weakness in order to strike. Then your mother explained the importance of faith in relationships and marriage and how Erik Campbell was not the right fit for you. Your father agreed of course.

"That Campbell boy might have seemed charismatic sweetheart, but so was Satan himself" he preached to you. "Dad, don't you think its unfair to judge someone based on their looks and one conversation?" You asked in a meek tone.

"Perhaps. But I could tell straight away that Campbell is not a man of God and he would not be a good influence on you. So it's important that you stay away from him" your dad explained in a more calm manner in hopes of getting through to you. You looked to your mom for her opinion, but she looked back at you with an apologetic glint in her eyes.

"Sweetie, we only want what's best for you" your mother cooed "besides, there are plenty of fish in the sea." You allowed your shoulders to drop and stared down at your lap, feeling defeated. Once your parents indicated that you were free to go, you got off the living room couch and practically bolted to your room. You wanted to slam the door to show your parents how upset you were, but you knew that would only lead to you getting your door taken off the hinges like when you were a child.

You were a grown woman, but your parents still treated you like a little girl and you hated it. But unfortunately, your father was a firm believer in the classic saying "you live under my roof, you live by my rules."

You changed into your pajamas and immediately climbed into bed. You were so troubled after the conversation with your parents that you didn't even have the energy to finish the moth creature in your sketch book. You tried to distract yourself by doom scrolling on your phone, but not even that helped.

Your mind was overloaded with thoughts of Erik. His pale blue eyes, his voice, his little grin, the softness and warmth of his tatted skin. You repeated your interaction with him in your head over and over like a cassette tape stuck on an endless loop. You screwed your eyes shut and roughly ran your hands through your hair before yanking your covers up and over your head. "God, please let me forget him" you prayed silently in the darkness, almost in tears. "Please let me forget about Erik Campbell."

------------------------------------------------

The next morning, you sat at the breakfast table staring blankly into your cup of coffee with newly pronounced under eye bags. You barely slept the night before because your prayers to forget about Erik went unanswered. You were up a majority of the night thinking about him, and when you did finally manage to fall asleep, he was waiting for you in your dreams. It was like there was an Erik sized cockroach infestation in your brain.

"Sweetheart, do you mind fetching the mail please? Your father asked you while cutting his sausage links your mother prepared for him. All you did was nod as you slowly stood up and sluggishly walked to the front door.

You made your way down the driveway to the mailbox, the bottom of your fuzzy pink slippers dragging on the pavement. You squinted as the morning sun assaulted your corneas. You were too tired for all of this. It was all Erik's fault. You reached into the mailbox and pulled out an assortment of envelopes. You held them in front of you and sifted through them as you walked back up your driveway.

Bills, bank statements, junk mail, and a folded piece of paper that caught your attention. You stuffed all the other mail under your armpit so you could use both hands to unfold the paper. Once you fully unfolded it, your eyebrows threaded together in confusion. It was a flier for a local tattoo parlor.

"Marked Tattoo & Body Piercing Studio" you read the flier aloud to yourself. It was a strange thing to find in your mailbox, to say the least. Sure, you would sometimes receive fliers in the mail for all sorts of things, but never a tattoo parlor. You couldn't help but feel like there was some sort of significance to it. Your mind wandered to Erik again and the tattoos that adorned his arms.

"Wait a minute...Erik is a tattoo artist" you thought to yourself. Your eyes scanned the flier again. You looked at the address and phone number printed at the bottom of the shop's name. There, next to the shop's phone number, was the letters EC scribbled on the paper. Your eyes went wide when the realization hit you. Those weren't just any random couple of letters, they were someone's initials. EC...Erik Campbell.

Erik was trying to communicate with you discreetly by leaving the flier for his work in your mailbox. So clever, but so risky. You could only imagine what would have happened if it wasn't you who found it. You quickly refolded the paper and shoved it into the pocket of your pj shorts as you swiftly walked up to the front door of your home.

You handed the mail to your dad, and you tried your best to calmly and nonchalantly walk up the stairs to your bedroom. Once you were inside with the door securely shut, you plopped onto your bed and took the flier out of your pocket. With slightly shakey hands, you picked up your phone and dialed the number on the flier.

"What if he doesn't answer?" You considered "What if I'm wrong about this?" Your nerves had your whole body buzzing with anxiety and anticipation. You decided you had to at least give it a try, so you slowly pressed the call button and put the phone to your ear. The phone only rang twice on the other end before someone picked up.

"Marked Tattoo & Body Piercings, Erik speaking" said the familiar male voice on the phone. You gasped slightly as soon as Erik's monotone customer service voice hit your ear. You were shaking. You couldn't believe you were right about the flier and that it was Erik on the phone with you.

"Umm..hi" you spoke softly to make sure your parents couldn't hear you. "Is that you, Peach?" Erik said with more vitality in his tone. You could practically hear the smirk on his lips through the phone.

"Ya..its me" you giggled nervously. You didn't exactly plan out what you were going to say to Erik if he picked up the phone, so to say you were nervous would be an understatement.

"I see you found my little easter egg" he chuckled on the other end. "Yes I did. I applaud your creativity, Campbell" you teased. You heard Erik bite back a laugh on the other end of the phone and your heart rate started to pick up. Just a few hours ago, you thought you would never hear his voice again. But there he was talking right into your ear.

"Well, you left before I could ask for your number yesterday, and I knew I couldn't just walk up to your door because then your old man would start shoving a crucifix in my face" Erik explained with sarcasm at the end. You held back a giggle after what he said about your dad. It was funny to you because it was pretty spot on.

"That's a fair assumption" you agreed with amusement in your voice. The banter between the two of you made you forget your nerves and the fact that you're not even supposed to be talking to Erik. You didn't care. You missed him, you needed this. You needed to hear his voice. You heard Erik take a deep breath through the phone.

"Listen, Peach, the thing is I can't stop thinking about you. I know your parents don't want me near you but honestly, I don't really give a fuck..I need to see you." Erik's confession rocked you. You were dumbfounded. You spent all night thinking about him, and it filled your stomach with an unimaginable amount of butterflies to think that he was going through the same thing.

"You still there?" Erik asked softly. You didn't realize how long you were quiet for. "Ya, I'm still here" you whispered "I wanna see you too, Erik." You and Erik exchanged numbers over the phone while you tried to stay as quiet as possible. Adrenaline was pumping throughout your body. If your parents walked in on you, this could all be ruined immediately.

"Is there any chance I could see you tonight?" Erik asked while sounding hopeful. "You could come by the shop after closing. It would just be the two of us. No witnesses."

You took a minute to ponder the possibility. You thought about how you could go about seeing Erik without your parents finding out. You looked at the flier again, it said the shop closed at 9:00pm. You then remembered you had Bible study tonight at 8:00 with girls from your new church. Judging by the address on the flier and the address of the girls' house that would be hosting Bible study, you could leave early and head right there.

"That sounded creepy, didn't it? I'm sorry, Peach" Erik blurted out, interrupting your thoughts. You giggled as a way to reassure him.

"No it wasn't, I was just thinking it over. I have Bible study tonight, but I can leave early" you said to him through a whisper. You heard Erik let out a single chuckle and you just knew there was a smirk on his lips.

"You're really willing to sneak around for me? Your dad would probably tie boulders to my ankles and throw me in a river if he finds out" Erik exaggerated. Though his assumption was extreme, you smiled none the less at his strange sense of humor.

"What he doesn't know won't hurt him" you responded, feeling like a rebellious teenager for making plans to meet up with a guy you were told to stay away from.

"Then I guess I'll see you tonight, Peach" Erik mumbled in a husky tone. "And bring those drawings of yours with you. I'd love to see them." With that, you said your quiet goodbyes and hung up the phone.

You stared at your bedroom wall and let out the breath you didn't know you were holding. You were stunned by what you just did. You talked to Erik on the phone. You made plans to meet up with him tonight. Your stomach turned wildly. You felt a twinge of guilt for disobeying your parents, but your excitement to see Erik again overpowered it. You were an adult, your parents couldn't keep telling you what to do. You wanted desperately to be free of their rules and expectations, and if the only way to do that was to sneak around, then so be it.

--------------------------------------------------

You were bouncing your leg with your Bible in your lap as you sat in the circle of women discussing a verse from... Genesis? Exodus? You couldn't remember because you weren't really paying attention. You kept stealing glances at the clock on the wall. It was almost 9:00pm, which meant it was almost time for your rendezvous with Erik. You closed your Bible gently and placed it in your small backpack next to your sketch book. It was time for you to make your escape.

"I'm gonna head out girls, I'm not feeling well" you lied expertly, standing up from your chair and swinging your backpack onto your shoulders. They all wished you well, and you were out the door and power walking to your car in no time. You got into the driver's seat and put the address of the tattoo parlor into your phone's GPS app. You drove the whole way there with a swirly feeling in your stomach, your clamey hands gripping the steering wheel.

When you arrived, your heart felt like it was going explode out of your chest. You made sure to park down the street instead of parking right in front of the shop. You didn't want anyone you knew to drive by and possibly recognize your car. You walked up to the shop with your hood up, feeling like you were about to do something illegal. Seeing the tatted and pierced man you had a crush on wasn't illegal of course, but you couldn't risk getting caught.

You walked into the shop, and almost instantly, you felt out of place. The tattoo parlor was dimly lit and the brick walls gave it an industrial feel. The decor was definitely something your parents would turn their noses up to, but you kind of liked it. The place looked cluttered, but it seemed like an organized clutter.

Throughout the shop were black leather stools and tattoo chairs with a matching black leather couch in the waiting area. The shelves that held various objects like oddities and bottles of tattoo ink were accented with red led lights. It gave the shop more lighting while also adding a sensual feel. Your blue jeans and lavender hoodie were the only colorful things in the whole shop. A stark contrast indeed.

You peered around the corner of the front desk, looking for the man you were there to see. You could hear faint talking over the death metal music playing on the Bluetooth speakers, so you followed the voice.

You then found Erik hiding in the corner of the shop, but he wasn't alone. He was sitting in one of the stools with a girl in the tattoo chair in front of him. It seemed like he was finishing a piercing he did for her. Judging by his gloved hands working in the girl's mouth, he must have given her a tongue piercing.

You cringed a little at the thought. Not because of the tongue ring itself, but you couldn't imagine how bad it must have hurt. You heard Erik trying to have a conversation with the girl while having his hands in her mouth. You stifled a giggle, watching his attempt as you stood about 10 feet away from them.

"So there's this girl, right? She's extremely gorgeous and super sweet. We met at my parent's barbecue yesterday, we got to talking, and we completely hit it off." The girl in chair just made agreeable noises as Erik continued his monolog while screwing on the ball of her new piercing.

"Now I get to hang out with her after work tonight. I'm psyched out of my mind about it. I feel like I could run a fucking marathon" Erik finished screwing on the ball of the piercing and the girl brought her tongue back in her mouth.

Erik looked to his right and saw you standing idoly by, waiting for him to notice you. You felt a whole wave of emotions crash over you when his muted blue eyes connected with yours, but you stomped them down so you wouldn't be overwhelmed. You shyly waved at Erik, and he flashed you that grin that you were thinking about the whole day.

"There she is," Erik cooed to you. "Mind waiting for me up front, Peach? I'm just finishing up." You nodded while replying with a "mhm" before turning and walking back to the front of the shop.

You sat down on the leather couch while you listened to Erik go over the aftercare instructions with the girl he just pierced. You then watched as the girl left out the door, already touching her new tongue ring despite Erik telling her not to. You heard footsteps approaching the front of the shop and Erik came into view from around the corner. He went to the door and locked it and then proceeded to flip the "come in, we are open!" sign to "sorry, we are closed."

"I thought you said no witnesses" you said to him with a smirk to let him know you were only teasing. Erik smirked back at you followed by a snort.

"She came in 10 minutes before closing time, and it was only a piercing. If she came in this late wanting a tattoo, I would have told her to kick rocks." You smiled at him but then you bit the corner of you lip when you realized what he was wearing.

Erik had on the same black skinny jeans and combat boots you saw him in yesterday, but it was the upper part of him that had you stunned. He was wearing a black leather jacket but he didn't have a shirt on underneath. You could see bits of more tattoos that you didn't know he had poking out of the jacket.

You saw a black and gray dragon that spanned across his chest right underneath his collarbones. It was so dark but so detailed that you could still tell what it was from a mile away. Right below it is what probably had you the most speechless. Right under the dragon was a huge skull tattoo that took up the remaining skin of his torso. You just sat there and marveled at him as he sauntered over to you. This man was going to be the death of you.

"Like what you see, Sweets?" Erik spoke in a gravely tone, taking notice of where your eyes were focused. You snapped out of your daze and looked up at Erik, who was now standing over you. You stood up quickly and gazed at Erik with a sheepish look on your face.

"Sorry I was just..." you trailed off, racking your brain for an excuse for your staring. "Don't be sorry, I didn't get these tattoos for people to not look at them" Erik reassured you.

"Did you draw these too?" You asked with curiosity as you took a step closer and placed a hand on the dragon adorning his chest. You quickly realized you were touching Erik's tattoos without checking with him first yet again. There was something about him that just made you forget what personal space was. You tried to withdraw your hand from him, but he gently took your wrist and placed your hand back on his bare chest.

"I don't mind you touching my tattoos, Sweets" Erik said in a low voice, practically reading your mind. The close proximity you found yourself in with him made your brain short circuit. You weren't standing this close to him yesterday. If you were, your father would definitely have an aneurysm.

Erik still had his hand wrapped around your wrist, so he pulled your hand to the right side of his chest. There, you could feel his heart beating rapidly, and you instinctively flattened your palm. Your previous question to Erik was long forgotten, and so was the tattoo on his chest. All you could focus on was his heart rate and the fact that it matched your own.

You were brought out of your head by Erik using his other hand to lift your chin so you could look into his eyes. His eyes gave you that sparkle from yesterday. You didn't realize just how much you missed Erik until now.

Your senses were overloaded with him. The warmth of his skin under your palm. The smell of his cologne mixed with the smell of ink. The sound of his steady breathing in the quiet tattoo parlor. The way that he looked just as handsome and dangerous as the last time you saw him. All that was left was...taste.

No, you couldn't, not yet. It was too soon. You were moving too fast. You slowly took your hand off Erik's chest, his grip on your wrist letting go at the same time. You dropped your gaze down to your feet as you exhaled a stuttering breath. Erik wasn't ready to let you go, but he didn't want to overwhelm you any further. So he settled for holding your delicate fingers in his large hands.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to come on so strong" Erik whispered his apology with sincerity in his voice. Your overwhelmed state shifted to embarrassment. You did not have a lot of experience with romance due to your religious upbringing, and you feared it was evident to him now. What women in her 20s gets overwhelmed by just the probability of a kiss?

"You're fine Erik its just.." you dared to glance back up at him to see a worried look in his bluish gray eyes. "I just don't want to move too fast" you finished with a meek tone. Erik brought a hand to your upper arm and squeezed it gently.

"We can move at whatever pase you want, Peach. I'm here for the ride either way." Erik spoke to you softly while showing you a genuine smile with teeth. Your cheeks took on a pinkish hue after hearing his words. You beamed at him, feeling grateful that he was so patient and understanding.

"So, do you want to see my drawings?" You asked him shyly, and he instantly beamed at you.

"I'd love to"

--------------------------------------------

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[beiibeiii]

theres no one left to blame but me

husband!arlecchino x wife!reader wlw smut

a long awaited and requested continuation / part 2 of cold nights !

tw : fluff/comfort, soft-ish arle, happy ending :), she apologies, rushed smut near the end, service top-ish arle, arle has a cock, angsty near the start, little bit of crying out of relief?, icl there is so much filler, not proof read, sorry this took ages to post sob

art creds : nuiilar on twt

6.3k words

the morning after, your eyelids flutter open. the sunlight was peeking through the curtains, onto the white bedsheets. you feel disoriented and completely out of it. you found yourself in a warm, comfortable bed. a contrast to where you remember you rested last night. you found yourself in your shared room.. except, it hadn't really been shared at all lately. as memories of last night start to cloud your mind, you immediately sit up and turn to your right.

to your disappointment, the other side of the bed was empty.. as usual. you feel like a fool for getting your hopes up. the fact she was too prideful enough to show her face to you, made your already existing pit of emptiness dig deeper into you heart. or so thats what you thought.

perhaps it was because you had drained most of your sorrows out last night.

with an exhausted sigh you ran a hand through your hair as your head lowered to idly stare down at the covers. the bedsheets were intoxicated with arlecchino's sickening cologne, even though she hadn't even been here in a while. her cologne made your head spin. you furrow your eyebrows as you sat in the dark room. your eyes glance at the clock on the bedside table. it was 6:17am. arlecchino would of left around an hour ago already..

shame, she didn't even leave a note or anything to apologise.

you don't feel like doing anything today. you just wanted to stay in bed and drown yourself in your worries for the whole day. you feel your lips curl into a frown knowing you will probably have to continue the day alone again. you force yourself off the cozy bed. your legs feel shaky.. you feel light headed as your vision blurs into momentary darkness as you stood up. god, had she really affected you that much? .

you lightly swing the door open and hazily walk into the long hallway. the hallway seemed to stretch on far more than you recalled it to. your eyes glaze over memorable photos of you and arlecchino etched onto the wall. golden frames bordering the beautiful person arlecchino used to be. you pass down the gallery of these, now, lost memories, the connection of these precious memories you used to hold so close to your heart, now feels like a lost, distant dream you yearn for.

you felt nauseous as reality dawns upon you. the truth weighing down into your already crushed heart. the memories flooding into you all at once did no good for you. each photo carried a different, loving memory from when arlecchino was genuinely.. peruere.

your head ached from the overload of contrasting feelings. the passion she once invested in you had vanished along with her love for you, it seemed. the flames she bares that once ignited your vulnerable heart, is forever extinguished. the arlecchino you once knew and loved, had faded into the chambers of her own cold, restricted heart. you couldn’t recognise her anymore.

you lazily dragged yourself down the stairs to avoid any signs of her. as you do, you could smell pancakes being cooked in the kitchen. you assume it's just another house maid. you tiredly walk in with your head lowered, not bothering to look up to see who it was, as you had already, mentally, came up with your final verdict.

you sit in the dining room, just passing kitchen and whoever was in there. you were too clouded to even bother figuring out who it was. you rest your elbow on the table and your chin in your palm. your eyes casted down on the table. suddenly, a small stack of pancakes with no toppings on them whatsoever was slid in front of you. you knew exactly who it was.

arlecchino's gaze rolled over your face as she slid you the plate. her eyes narrowed, they were still as cold as ever. she knew you clearly hadn't had a good night of sleep. your expression was weary and your face puffy. a sharp pang of remorse took ahold of her once more. she couldn't bare to see the sight of you, completely drained of all happiness, because of her. she knew she couldn't drag this on any longer.

she gently place the silverware on the side of the plate. you noticed the gleam of her ring shining under light for a moment. your eyebrows furrow slightly. she wore the ring you brought her. it gave you a slight sense of relief. yet you still don't dare to look at her face. not yet at least.

"good morning, my dear." her voice echoed slightly through the dining room.

you purse your lips at her words. you can't bring yourself to say 'good morning' back. if it were a good morning, then you would probably still be in bed in her arms. your gaze doesn't wander away from the pancakes in front of you. you feel as she pulls away from behind you to take a seat in front of you with her own plate of pancakes. arlecchino subtly glances at you before taking a bite of her warm, plain pancakes. the silence was deafening. it only raised the tension in the air. deciding to break the ice, she spoke again. her expression was neutral.

"i made pancakes.." she mused once more, as if she wasn't stating the obvious. she really didn't know how to initiate a conversation with you. especially after last night.

you could tell in her voice she was trying hard. you felt your heart pick it's self up at the thought of her attempt to make breakfast and start a conversation. you didn't want to keep being mad at her. hell, you weren't even supposed to be mad at her to begin with. you decided to nod after a long pause of silence. picking up your utensils to start eating the plain pancakes.

despite all of that, you still didn't have the courage to look her in the face.

before you knew it, you both had already finished eating. you didn't want to admit it but you missed her cooking. even if it was plain and tasteless. you both hadn't exchanged a word once. arlecchino couldn't take it anymore. she didn't want to see this distraught look on your face any longer. she leans over the table, her hand firmly, yet so gently, lifting your chin up.

"please, look at me. i cannot stand seeing you like this.." your breath hitches quietly at her sudden action. her words have a hint of softness and desperation in them. her gaze is as firm yet as gentle as her touch. your eyes gaze into her crossed pupils. you find yourself lost in her iris. mesmerising you.

"arle.." you utter quietly under your breath.

"let me make it up to you." she almost pleads. her eyebrows are furrowed, taking in all of your beautiful features. she had to admit, it had been a while since she last saw you properly and so close like this. you feel your throat tighten, her words tugging at your heart strings.

you don't know whether to trust her words anymore. especially after she had been hanging around that new fatui recruit recently. her hand falls from your chin yet your head still stays up to look at her. her rough, blackened hands hold your soft ones. firmly giving it a little squeeze.

"i was wrong. let me take you out to dinner tonight. i promise, i will discard any worries you have." her voice wasn't soft, but nor was it cold. you knew she was never good with expressing her emotions. you feel weary of her proposal. the cool ring you had brought for her was against your hand. the gentle look in her eyes make you give into her pleads. you hesitantly replied after a moment of contemplation.

"okay. i.. will let you take me out for dinner." you reply quietly. your gaze lowering in slight embarrassment. now you really couldn't back out of this. she nods as she hums in response. getting out of her seat to carefully pull you out of your seat. embracing your body in her warm arms, pushing your head against her chest. the smell of her cologne was more prominent than ever.

you felt relief course through your body. the scene of her no longer sickened you. your hands cling onto the t-shirt she's wearing, squeezing the fabric as you feel tears starting to be forced out of your eyes again. her hands reassuringly stroke your hair, her fingertips getting lost in each strand.

"i apologise, my dear. i was wrong." she whispers softly yet hesitantly. all tension that was in the air had disappeared. arlecchino doesn't know if she's comforting you correctly. the feeling just felt so foreign to her. in all honesty, it hurt her to see you like this. she wanted to take your pain away from you. she lets you cry it out in her chest. whispering sweet things every so often. constantly alternating between tangling her fingers in your hair and rubbing comforting circles on your back.

she just hoped her actions were able to get her message, that she cares about you, across to you more than her words are.

soon, the evening came around a lot quicker than you had expected. it had been a while since you've had to doll yourself up to look good for arlecchino. you enjoyed having an excuse to dress up every so often. you decided to put on a elegant white dress and heels on for tonight, hoping to take that stupid, nee fatui recruit off her mind.

arlecchino was already outside, waiting for you as she leaned against her expensive, sleek car. she had dressed up in a elegant suit with small chains in between the buttons. she had a crimson red waistcoat and of course her ridiculous heels. in her arms was a beautiful bouquet of roses. she was mentally hoping she was doing everything right, that she wouldn't say or do anything wrong.

not soon after, as you leave your residence, you are greeted by arlecchino. your breath hitches the second you laid eyes on her, she looked so handsome.. the way she was fiddling around with the roses just to make sure they're perfect. the way she leans against the car. every little thing about her was so captivating. at last, you see her look up at you, slowly walking towards you with that confident stride. god you were absolutely ravishing. she leans down slightly and takes your hand. her rough hand firmly brings your contrasting one to her soft lips, placing a gentle kiss on it. she gazes up at you through her eyelashes. you feel heat rush to your cheeks immediately.

"you look stunning my dear. here, roses, for you." she muses against your hand, keeping her voice even. fuck. you looked so pretty, all dolled up just for her. you feel her light breath against your knuckles before she pulls away, standing back up straight. towering over you as she hands you the perfect bouquet of roses you've ever seen. carefully you take them out of her hands, smiling lightly as you inhaled the floral smell.

it was as if time slowed down. a gentle breeze of the evening air brushed across your faces. arlecchino's lips parted as her gaze softened ever so slightly. she feels all signs of doubt leave her body. the tips of her ears were heating up at your gorgeous smile, no matter how much she tried to hold it back. thankfully for her, her ears were covered by her hair. she hadn't seen your beautiful smile for so long. it wasn't until now she had realised how much she had missed it.

"thank you. you look so beautiful too arle.." you smiled softly. you felt as if you could forgive her already. you hugged the roses carefully in your arms. they smelt good. you noticed how the corner of her lips twitched ever so slightly. how her gaze had also softened. you hadn't seen that look in a while. arlecchino, on the other hand, felt warmth she hadn't felt in a while, bubble up within her chest. deep inside, she felt like a giddy teenager falling for you for the first time all over again. she quickly pulls herself together, clearing her throat.

"come on, we wouldn't want to be late, would we?" she states, wrapping a arm around you waist, walking you to her expensive car. she opens the door for you graciously, urging you to get in first.

you mumbled a small "thank you" to which she replies with a nod. you blush softly at the small yet thoughtful action. she was so.. gentlemanly. arlecchino had such a charming personality, it was drawing you in. you hear as she closes the door on you and makes her way to the drivers seat. the seats were luxurious, made of dark red leather.

her beautiful hands made their way to the steering wheel. the engine roared as it pulled out of the driveway. her attention constantly, yet subtly divided between the road and you. she couldn't help but steal glances towards you from time to time. you looked utterly gorgeous tonight. her predatory gaze would always wander to your beautiful legs, perfectly exposed when you're wearing a dress. before immediately sticking to the road. no. she couldn't be thinking of such things. she had to properly make it up to you first.

the car ride in general was quiet. it was a comforting yet pleasant silence. you didn't mind it. you looked out the window, watching the city go past you. the shadows of tall skyscrapers and light, emitting from lit up buildings, towering over the city, flicker onto the car. giving it a beautifully shadowed hue.

it wasn't soon before arlecchino drove into a car park of an expensive looking restaurant. it was one you knew people waited over months just to get an reservation. the car comes to an stop. arlecchino gives you a soft glance before she got out of the car. walking over to open the door for you. her hand extended out to you with a gentle yet firm gaze. you smile softly as you take her hand. getting out the car. she keeps her hand in yours, leading you into the luxurious restaurant.

as arlecchino led you into the restaurant, she noticed the going quieter than it was before. everyone there looking at the two of you. numerous whispers and glances were spilling around the groups of people. you could tell that they were looking at you, of course. you looked beautiful in your dress, you were like eye candy. most people also recognised arlecchino, the knave. wondering why she was here with such a pretty girl.

arlecchino didn't bother to act polite in front of other people. she gave the patrons a cold, vicious glare as they looked in your direction. she didn't like it. she didn't like how everyone's eyes were all on you. you were hers and she was yours. arlecchino could almost feel the anxiousness imploding your mind currently. her arm wrapping around your waist firmly once more. pulling you in closer to her, as if telling everyone who you belonged to.

"just ignore them. they don't matter." she mumbles lowly into your ear, as if trying to reassure you. you let a quiet breath, you didn't know you were holding, out at her words. you stop tensing up and relax as you feel her hands squeeze your waist subtly.

as the gazes of the other patrons disperse, arlecchino makes her high status known, just by an glance from the waiters. the restaurant's staff instantly catered to her high status, treating her with upmost respect and almost fear. you two are instantly escorted to the table. it was next to a breathtaking view of the sunset. as the sun's rays fell upon your skin, it accentuated your beauty, making your face glow. arlecchino could not pull her eyes off of you. she was absolutely captivated by you. you were absolutely gorgeous..

as the two of you settle into your seats, menu's are handed out as the waiter leaves you for some time alone. arlecchino glazes over the menu. carefully reading over everything. in her mind, she hopes this dinner will be able to clear most things up. her eyes glanced up at you, who was also reading the menu. she was determined to make this dinner meaningful and memorable for you. she wanted to make up to you. no, she had to.

"order anything you fancy, my dear." arlecchino said before taking a glance back at the menu.

"alright.. thank you, arle." your lips curl in a light smile. eventually the two of you ordered drinks and food. arlecchino ordering a steak tartare and you just a steak yourself. the two of you ordered red wine. arlecchino made sure to watch your alcohol intake. arlecchino could always handle her alcohol really well, but you, on the other hand, was quite a light drinker. she didn't want you to get wasted.

she lifts her glass of wine. "cheers?" she pushes her glass towards you.

"cheers!" you laugh out softly at her slight awkwardness. your glasses made a small clink. you see the small, reassured smile on her face as you both take a sip. you feel the expensive liquid burn your throat. arlecchino watched as you downed your wine with a smile. she could tell that the alcohol was already starting to ease you up. that's good. it only meant you're enjoying yourself and she has fewer chances to mess things up.

"wow.. it's really good." you muse, your gaze relaxed. there seemed to not be as much tension as before. when she noticed your gaze relaxed, she took it as a sign that things were turning out alright. arlecchino was relieved.

"of course, only the best for you, my love." she murmurs back. her voice has a softer edge to it now. her hand reaching over to yours. placing it on top of your hand lovingly. you feel your gaze soften more in awe at her affection. it had been a while since she had treated you so well like this.

she lowers her gaze momentarily. her lips parting before closing back up again. god she didn't know how to start. she had to stop avoiding her thoughts and apologise already.

"i.. apologise again, for my actions lately." she stammers out suddenly. she looks at you right in the eyes as she says this. you know she was being sincere.

"i shouldn't of forgotten such an important date like our anniversary and neglected you for such a long period of time." she pauses momentarily. her eyebrows furrowing as she pulls her thoughts together. trying to get the sting of words bundled up in her throat right out. the sight of your crying again broke her heart. she never wanted to see you cry, because of her ever again. her hand squeezes yours subtly.

"moreover, that fatui recruit.. she means nothing to me. i mean it. you deserve nothing but pure happiness. and i promise, i will do everything, and anything for you because i love you. more than i can ever explain." her words are firm and gentle. you feel your heart warm up at her words. you knew she never liked to speak up, she was prideful and was never good with her words. you couldn't be angry at her any longer.

"arle.. just.. promise you won't do it again." you reply softly. your eyebrows furrowed still, in slight uneasiness until she confirms it herself. her words were most definitely touching your heart. her words were so genuine.

she brings your hand up to her face. your hand cupping the side of her cheek lightly. "i swear on the tsarita's name, my love." she replies with an gentle tone. her eyes were glazing into yours. arlecchino knew that she was practically begging for forgiveness right now, and she hated it. buy she wants your forgiveness, she needs your forgiveness. seeing you so upset, hurts her more than anything.

your breath hitches at her sudden gesture. her face was so warm, her skin milky soft. god she was breathtaking right now.

"i.. forgive you, arle." you breathe out. you feel all tension leave your body. you can feel your own heart beating again. thumping hard against your chest. you feel like you've fallen in love with her for the first time all over again.

"thank you, my love. i don't deserve you." she whispers softly against your palm. her body visibly relaxes. she feels her heart flutter in her chest. her ears heating up again. she hadn't fucked everything over in the end. she was so afraid of losing you after that night. she can never let things get that bad ever again.

unfortunately for the both of you, your intimate moment was cut short when a waiter arrived with your meal, much to arlecchino's annoyance. shame.. arlecchino wanted to bask in your forgiveness and sweet words just a little longer. you pulled your hand away, feeling embarrassed that the waiter had seen how close you were with her. you hoped you hadn't made arlecchino seem soft. not that she actually minded it.

your eyes widened in awe at the food placed onto the wooden table. it looked absolutely delicious. it smelt amazing. it was of high quality and was luxurious. the harbinger couldn't help but feel a slight irritation that your tender and heartfelt moment was ruined. she would much rather be lost in your eyes and touch right now. but she couldn't stay mad, especially when she saw the adorable look on your face.

once you thanked the waiter with a sweet smile and arlecchino with a stoic nod, they left. as we picked up the utensils, arlecchino glanced at me once more.

"i hope the meal is up to your standards, my dear."

and oh god it was. the rich flavours of the steak was literally melting on your tongue. taking sips of alcohol in between. the two of you had a nice conversation. you hadn't had that in a while. it felt like you were catching up on her life despite living together.t wasn't soon before you were finished with your meal. arlecchino would just nod, setting the napkin down saying something along the lines of "not bad. would be better without these.. complex seasonings."

it wasn't long before found yourself inebriated with alcohol despite how much arlecchino limited your alcohol intake. your cheeks were slightly flushed red. your eyes half lidded with that small pouty look on your face. your words would slur and you would sway side to side in your seat. trying, what seemed to be your best, to sit up straight in your seat. you would babble on about random topics.

arlecchino watched you quickly fall under the influence. sighing out with a small smile. completely adoring your drunken self. what an 'handful' for arlecchino to deal with..

arlecchino practically dragged you out your seat and into her arms. helping your drunken self stumble out the restaurant. her hand was on your waist firmly as she helped you into the car. everything was a blur. your mind was clouded and you felt all floaty. by the time you both reached the front door, you were already heavily leaning on her, having trouble walking straight alone. arlecchino helped you to the bed. your felt your body lightly laid you down onto the soft covers of the bed.

you were mumbling and giggling, completely drunk. she found you absolutely endearing in this state. she smiled faintly as she pushed some strands of hair out your face. god you looked heavenly right now. your silky hair was sprawled out on the bed. your lips were slightly parted with your head tilted to the side a little. your half lidded eyes gazing drunkly into her sober ones. the red streak of blush across your face only accentuated your drunkness.

"come on, let's get you to bed-" she mumbles before getting cut off by you tugging her down by her collar. your faces so close together. arlecchino's breath hitches at your sudden action and the sudden closeness.

"arle.. wan' you.. to apologise in.. another way.." you slur out quietly. your eyebrows furrowing. you are completely out of it. you sloppily lift your hips to lightly and not to subtly grind on hers.

oh.. she gets the hint. she feels her ears and cheeks heat up some more now. she feels her dick harden in her pants. she feels so.. tight and restricted. the air was so hot in here. one of her hands find their way to the side of your hips and lightly push them down. trying to be reasonable with your drunken self.

"dear, your drunk, you need to sleep-" arlecchino is cut off once more when you pull her head down to smash her lips on yours. arlecchino groans against your hips. she knows you want this and now she does too. her tongue enters your mouth as you let out a small muffled moan, your eyes fluttering closed. her lips were so soft. her lips made you feel more dizzier than you already were. her hands run down your back, feeling the smooth fabric of your dress underneath her fingertips. she reaches up to the zipper and pulls it down with sudden urgency.

she pulls her lips away, leaving you both breathless. she doesn't waste another second, tugging the dress off of you. her eyes roam all over your body hungrily. your eyelashes flutter open. in your hazy vision you see arlecchino drinking in the sight of you in your lace undergarments. her self-control snapping at the sight of that lace on your body

"all this for me? such a eager girl.." she smirks. you feel heat rush up to your core. you subtly rub your thighs with a whine. needing her so badly right now.

"tell me what you want sweet girl.. i'm all yours tonight.." she mumbles lowly into your ear.

"need you.. now.. pleaseeee.." you huff out. she could feel the heat pooling between her legs as you huff out those words. you looked so beautiful and sensual begging for her, it was driving her crazy. she knows she should be nice to you today, so she gives you want you want. she dips down to your neck, hungrily biting down and sucking sweetly on your neck. eliciting light moans from your throat. she leaves a trail of light red marks down your neck. losing the last bit of restraint she had.

her fingers carefully unclasp your bra. her hands moving swiftly to slide the lace off of you in anticipation. your tittys were hard, just for her. you shiver slightly at the coldness. arlecchino sucks in a breath at the sight of your. undressing herself quickly and leaving herself in her boxers. you could see the massive buldge ready to get out of the confides of her boxers. her abs were more prominent in the dark lighting. god she was so hot.

"so beautiful.." arlecchino's tone of voice is throaty and quiet. she leans in and wraps her lips around your nipple. you let out a quiet breath, moaning sweetly. your body was so sensitive from alcohol. arlecchino's actions barely registering in your mushy mind.

her other hand pinches and rolls and pulls on your other nipple in between her fingers. making the pleasure so much higher. she sucks on your nipple sweetly, relishing your moans before pulling away. her hand slowly slides down your body, her touch tracing a trail of fire on your skin. she can feel your body shiver slightly under her touch, becoming more desperate every second.

her hand dips down to your clothed cunt. you were absolutely soaked for her. she rubs her thumb on where your clit is. making your hips spasm and lean into her. your eyes fluttering closed as she forces a hoarse moan from you.

"stop.. eat me.. out already.." you whine out desperately. she smirks, complying with your needs and pulls your spoiled underwear aside. her hands hold your thighs and open them. keeping them open firmly as her long, wet muscle gives a long lick to your wet hole so.. slowly. making you shiver against her. your thighs wanting to close around her head.

"stop.. teasing.." you whine out drunkly. your hand finds their way to her head as you push her head into your cunt. you feel her lips curl up as her tongue enter your warm walls. she feels your walls spasms around her tongue. making her groan into your cunt. an vibrating hit your pussy as you throw you head back in pleasure.

"f-faster arle.." you huff out, your word slurring, in pleasure. your grip on her hair is weak in your sensitive drunk state. her nose nudges against your clit so perfectly.

she picks up the pace, devouring your pussy with her mouth. her tongue pumping in and out of your tight hole. making loud slurping noises and you push her head unto your pussy more.

"n..ngh.. more..!" you pant out, your breath shaky, rolling your hips into her mouth more. arlecchino obeys, shoving her face deeper into you. her nose buried into your folds as she sucks and eats your cunt. her hands move from your thighs to your folds and lightly pull them apart. giving her better access to your dripping hole. your thighs squeeze against her head in desperation. arlecchino groans at the feeling, against your wet cunt as she grinds her cock into the bed. fuck she so was desperate but your needs came first.

you pornagraphic moans only fuel her drive more. the way you tugged on her hair closer to you, only turned up the intensity of your pleasure more. you feel like your on cloud nine right now, feeling that coil in your stomach form. "close..!" you'd pant out, eyes rolling back in pleasure.

"go on then, pretty girl.." arlecchino's lip curl up into a smile against your pussy. you let out a high pitched moan, smashing her face into your cunt and your thighs squeeze her head as your orgasm washes over you. arlecchino felt your pussy clenching around her tongue and trembling against her mouth, your cum gushing out in streams. she groans at the cum all over her face, lapping it right up before pulling away with a string of saliva on her tongue. her chin absolutely dripping in your release.

she has a light smirk on her face, clearly pleased with your orgasm, as she wipes your release on her arm. you feel all light headed after you came, the alcohol influencing you for more. arlecchino pulled her boxers down, her massive cock springing out and slapping against her stomach. fuck, she was absolutely leaking with pre-cum. you looked at her cock in awe. arlecchino kisses you sweetly, you could taste yourself on her tongue. her erection was hard, poking right into your thigh.

she pulls away, gently pushing a strand of hair in your face out the way. gazing into your half lidded eyes.

"i'll go slow.. tell me how you'd like it, okay?" she mumbles softly. you nod, letting out a small hum of agreement.

"theres my girl.." she trails off, holding her cock in her hand as she rubs it all over your wet slit. smearing your wet juices all over her, coating her cock in your cum. your pussy twitches at her rubbing her cock all over you. she peppers sweet kisses on your forehead as she starts to push her hard cock into your tight little hole slowly. her thick cock spreads your walls apart, sinking deeper into your soaked cunt. she groans, "come on.. relax.." feeling your walls flutter around her at the intrusion, clenching down on her.

you let out little mewls. she was just so.. big. you felt stuffed to the brim. your eyes flutter shut as her thumb comes in contact with your clit. rubbing your little bundle of nerves to loosen your cunt up. your walls spasm against her length as she rubs on your clit. immediately loosening yourself up as she pushes the rest in, lightly in one fluid motion. you felt your vision turn white for a second as your hips snapped together. arlecchino lets out a deep growl at how your gummy walls pulse around her. you felt her cock spear your pussy, pressing right up to your cervix. you were so stretched out by her.

you find yourself trying to catch your breath as arlecchino whispers sweet things to you. telling you how good you are for her and how well your doing. she allows you to adjust to her massive size for as long as long as you need to. after a short while, you give her a small nod as you start to get used to her girth.

"i'm going to move now, alright?" she mumbles lowly yet sweetly, her hands holding your hips firmly as she pulls back. her hips part from yours before she slowly rocks her hips. thrusting in and out of your warm walls. you let out a shaky breath at her size and how she hit the right spots so effortlessly. she growls, it took everything to hold back her urge to just throw your legs over her shoulder and pound you to oblivion. god she was so compliant, taking you slowly, just as she promised, just like the good husband she wants to be.

her pace picks up to a bearable one. her fat cock brushes your cervix so easily, the sounds of her grunts and the sound of skin slapping sounded so good. your eyebrows furrow in pleasure when she hits your good spot, she notices this, continuously pumping her cock into it. arlecchino starts to lose her restraint, her hands on your hips tighten as her pace picks up some more. her breath starts getting ragged. the room smelled like sex, your drunken self already had your brains fucked out. she starts thrusting with more fervour, the intense slapping of skin was heard. your walls spasm around her fat cock at the filthy sounds.

you get breathless, arlecchino elicit high pitcher moans from your throat. her relentless pace too much for your drunken self to handle. after some struggle, your arms find their way to her back. your hands grip onto her back, your nails scratching into her back leaving red scratches into her toner back. she grunts at the stinging sensation, turning her on.

"slow.. ngh.. down arle..!" you whine out. your vision starts to cloud in darkness momentarily. she looks up at your pleasured face through her eyelashes and her rough, ruthless pace was now at an slower, loving pace. her grip on your hips loosen. arlecchino knows your close from how your walls are so beautifully squeezing her.

"come on, come with me pretty girl.." she groans out in pleasure. as you feel your orgasm wash over, arlecchino pushes herself to the hilt, cumming deep inside of you. you hold her tight, letting out a erotic moan. you was sure enough it was loud enough for the rest of the house maid's finishing up to hear. arlecchino watched as your stomach, full of your mixed cum, bloats. she pumps a few more strokes into you with intentions of fucking her cum straight into your womb.

"so good for me.." she mumbles, kissing your lips gently. you let out small muffled mewls, before she pulls out, pulling away as your your cum is oozing out your pussy. god, what a pretty sight it was. you feel dazed, panting and catching your breath, as you stare up into the ceiling on the brink of passing out from pleasure and the alcohol.

arlecchino helps clean yourselves up, changing the sheets before pulling you into her warm embrace. your head was buried in her neck, your bare bodies pressed against each other. it felt nice, you hadn't felt like this in a while. you found yourself not thinking about anything else, too drunk and blissed out to do so. only barely listening to her praises and the feeling of her peppering kissed on your face and drawing circles on your back. it was easier to fall asleep with her by your side.

"did so well for me hm?" she mumbles lowly with a light smile. arlecchino missed this warmth and the intimacy you two used shared frequently. she watches as you fall asleep in her arms cozily. watching your face in the pure bliss of sleep. usually, on any other day, you would find yourself awake the next morning, alone on a cold bed. but not tonight, or any other night from today forwards, for she will be by your side, embracing your body. the next morning, you will find her hugging you, waking up with you, like a loving husband she wants to be. she promises to treat you so well, with everything she has.

you were to use her, command her and cast her aside. use her as your blade. for she, will always be yours.

these nights, were no longer classed as cold nights.

not anymore.

[hattiewritesalot]

Gevives (Beauty)

Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!reader

Summary: Jacaerys, ever the hard worker, is late to bed. Again. Luckily for him, you’re very forgiving.

Warnings: Reader and Jace have a daughter, one or two mentions of stress and overload, Jace being babygirl. Literally just fluff tbh

A/N: how’s it going lads im a little bit (very) in love with this pouty princess. I also wrote this at midnight for my sister so enjoy

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A soft sigh escapes you as the wooden chair creaks against the stone floor, rocking back and forth, lulling you and your sweet daughter as she snores, slumped against your chest.

She’s as loud as the day she was born, kicking and screaming as she was lowered into your arms for the first time, and now, thank the gods, she screams less. She has, however, taken after her father with her snoring, noisy enough to rumble Dragonstone itself. You’re not surprised - not entirely, at least. Little Rhaenyra has been a daddy’s girl since the moment Jace held her, since the moment her chubby fingers curled around his one, and he weeped into her downy head. It baffles you that that was so long ago - you can see the image as clear as day.

Speaking of your most beloved husband, he’s still not here. His tendency to overwork himself is shining through, and he’s all but locked himself in his study to sort through his papers and meetings and arrangements and everything boring that you sometimes have the urge to burn so maybe, just maybe, he’ll come to bed on time.

‘Perks of being the eldest son, my darling wife.’ He’d once grinned, amber eyes glinting in the sunlight with that twinkle of mischief you love so much. He’d kissed you, then, and slipped away to occupy himself with his duties.

You can’t be mad at him, not really, not when your heart is brimming with the love and devotion you have for your Jace. Not when you’re carding your fingers through your toddler’s dark curls as she dreams. It doesn’t stop you from being frustrated though. You hate it when he burns himself out like this, knowing all too well the way he crumbles when the day is done. You’ll always be there, though, to pick up the shards and put him back together again, knowing he’d do the same for you in a heartbeat.

The door creaks open, and then it closes with a squeal of the hinges, and quiet footsteps patter behind you, Jace’s face peering around the rocking chair. He winces. “You’re awake?”

You cock a brow, shooting him a look. “Yes, I’m awake. And so are you.”

He sighs, then, pressing those full lips to your forehead and cradling your face, his free hand reaching down to stroke Rhaenyra’s hair. “I’m sorry, my wife. Everything is so… overwhelming right now. Some days I want to rip Aegon’s hair out, and some days I want to rip my own out.” 

“Please don’t. I quite like your pretty curls.”

“As you tell me so often, gevives.” Gevives. Beauty. Gods, this man has a chokehold on your heart.

“Perhaps I will find it in myself to forgive you.” You finally push up off your chair, cracking your back, groaning. “Remind me not to sit in that chair for too long.”

“I do remind you. You don’t listen.”

“You’re on thin ice, Velaryon.” 

You lower Rhaenyra into her cot, rocking it and shushing her gently when she squeaks. Jace’s hands curl around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder. “Our little princess.” He mumbles. “She’s perfect. Is she really ours?”

“Given that she snores like a bear and pouts all day, I’d say she is.”

He snorts. “I do not pout.” 

“He said, pouting.”

“You’re mean.” He turns you around, now, the tip of his nose brushing against yours. You love it when he’s this close, when you can count every freckle, every streak of gold and brown in his eyes, every curl. You smile at him. “You love it.”

He sighs dramatically, shaking his head, as if every word he speaks ails him. “Yes, yes I do. Gods save me from my cruel wife and her cruel ways.”

You scoff, but laughter bursts through it, pushing his shoulder and walking to the bed. “Fine. I guess you won’t be sleeping next to your cruel wife, then?” 

He’s scrambling out of his day clothes and under the covers before you can even fathom it, pulling you into his arms. He has the blood of the dragon, and runs hot when he sleeps. It’s nice on colder nights like this one, where you could bury yourself in his arms and never leave. His deft fingers trail up and down your spine, lips pressed against your hairline.

He calls you the beauty, but it is only because you are so infatuated with the man next to you. Every part of him; the sweet, gentlemanly parts, and the bitter, ugly parts; holds a dear place in the organ beating beneath your breast. Jacaerys Velaryon isn’t just your husband - he’s your best friend, your soul-mate (as the poets may say), and every time his fingers intertwine with yours, you like to think that your very beings intertwine too. You and Jace will find each other wherever you need to, for you know he is never far when he loves you so.

He sighs, nestling into your hair, and you gently kiss his jaw. “Promise me something, husband?”

He hums in response.

“Promise me you’ll take a break tomorrow?”

It takes him a long moment, but eventually, he swallows, nodding, body sagging against yours. “I’m sorry, I just-“

“Hush, I don’t need to hear it. I love you, alright? Even if you don’t show up to bed on time, even if you sometimes infuriate me with how much you put on yourself.”

He chuckles softly at that, pulling you in closer. “I adore you, my lady.”

You’re half-asleep by now, safe and content within the comfort of your lover’s arms. “Not as much as I adore you.”

You could have this argument for years, endless bickering of ‘I love you more’s, but you don’t. Not now, at least.

Now, you hold each other, falling asleep within the solidarity of your love.

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I actually like this sort of a tiny bit

[twistedwonderlandimaginesblog]

A nsfw ask but light, kinda. Requesting to see a twst naive MC go bra shopping and asking Idia, Vil, and Rook, and Trey for their opinion.

Idia Shroud:

Idia has no clue why you’re asking him of all people. He knows you’re dating, something he still thinks is just a daydream sometimes, but it made him want to block you when you suddenly start asking questions about bras. Is this a trap? Are you testing him or something? He really can’t provide any feedback and simply tells you to get what you like, feeling his brain overload if you pick a color that reminds you of him.

Rook Hunt:

Rook is teasing as he asked what naughty tricks you were up to; it’s quite bold of you to direct questions of this nature to him, perhaps it was a hint of something more… He switched topics like it was nothing and gave an honest opinion of the situation, only able to provide information he had heard from others. He knows your body and guessed your cup size without you even having to be around, which was quite the party trick that you hoped he didn’t use on anyone else.

Trey Clover:

Trey is only slightly at a loss, not having any real opinion on what you wear because he’d think it’d suit you regardless. He might jokingly say he prefers when people wear the more expensive ones with gaudy patterns but he backpedals just as quick, knowing some people had a tendency to think he was being serious when he was not. He told you to ask around the store just to make sure you were getting the best fit for your comfort and he’d commit the detail to memory for you, if you wanted.

Vil Schoenheit:

Vil used his own knowledge of your fashion likes and dislikes, as well as considering the types of clothes you wore. He’s more than happy to suggest or judge the fit of a bra but he hopes you’re still following your own wants rather than just listening to him for the sake of it. He’s not going to pretend to know more about bras than you would but he does fluff up his feathers at the thought of you turning to him for advice.

[lunatf-ao3]

If I might request… perhaps some Wheeljack “I missed you (it’s been a good hundred years)” makeup sex with his cybertronian!reader lover?

YEARN ఌ︎

[TFO] Wheeljack/Cybertronian!Reader

[⚠︎]: nsfw, fluff and smut

Here is it. Sorry if it's a bit short!

-

Sweet gasps mingle with the wet sound of lubricant and metal clinking together in a soft tinkling. The spongy material of some tarps muffles the normally loud sounds, transforming the atmosphere into a silent intimacy and enveloping you in its softness.

"I missed you," Wheeljack says for the hundredth time, leaving a trail of soft kisses on your face. "I missed you so much, I thought..."

He exhales, sinking a little harder into your valve as he hugs you. His hips move at a slow, steady pace, holding one of your legs as your lover leans toward you. His servos gripped yours tightly, almost afraid that if he let go, you would disappear again.

"I thought you had joined the Allá Spark," he finished, bringing one of your servos to his dermas.

You swallow, feeling the rub of his spike inside you, stretching you and filling you with a distant familiarity. "I missed you too, very, very much."

Your words encourage Wheeljack, who speeds up a little as he captures your dermis in a sweet and rough kiss. One of his servos moves away from yours, running over your structure with melancholy.

He felt your armor; it had changed since the last time he saw you. Some parts were gone, and there were others he didn't recognize. His touch was gentle, reaching your valve, where he lazily rubbed the shiny node.

He silenced your moan, thrusting his glossa deep into your intake. He could feel you tightening around him, your legs imprisoning him with passion.

He had definitely missed having you all to himself.

He broke the kiss when his own overload threatened to explode, picking up speed and causing your body to bounce against his.

"I'd be surprised if you didn't miss a wrecker like me," he joked, kissing your forehead. His spike hit your valve with more energy, colliding with the hard rubber lips.

"I'd be surprised too," you played along, feeling a little dizzy. "...Please fill me up."

Wheeljack didn't hesitate to obey, giving you one last push as he released a good load of thick strands of transfluid into your gestation chamber. "I saved it all for you."

You gladly receive it, falling backward to be held by his arms as your fluids trickled down.

Wheeljack embraced you, sheltering you in him, and sheltering himself in you. "I really missed you..."

"From now on you're never going to leave me alone again."

"Ah, that sounds like a good deal to me."

"So, deal?"

"Deal!"

[fairlyabookie]

when study time is over

Author's note: a little fluff for those who are suffering from finals!!

Riddle Rosehearts

Silence reigns upon an expanse of polished cherrywood and floating books, the tell-tale scratches of pens scribbling on paper amidst whispered conversation slither in between the ranks of craned heads lowered in total concentration over books and blotched notes.

Riddle was quite fond of this atmosphere; the profound tranquility between students, their focus elsewhere save for the books in front of them, their writing hand scribbling what they can retain from their readings. Yet, study time also merited a collaborative effort: the opportunity to talk to each other about their findings, their interpretations of a certain topic they struggled with - another way to study, one that Riddle took a liking to for his residents to practice - what other way can the students achieve best grades if not by studying together?

Such a method didn’t cross his mind as he lays his eyes upon your profile, your eyebrows furrowed in utmost concentration. Amidst the sea of logical thought and measurements, just a glance was enough to cleanse his thoughts away - wait, what was he thinking about again?

He steals another glance at you, this time, morbidly curious if you did something to him. The second year chalks it off as coincidence - perhaps he lost his train of thought.

A flip of a page, a magical pen writes upon parchment, and the flow of words and logic come back to mind - formulas and theories piecing back together in one coherent thought.

“Riddle.”

A soft utter from your lips reaches his ears.

“Yes?”

He quells any semblance of giddiness in his voice, looking up to you once more. A dazzling smile lists upon your lips, one that threw his heart asunder. Why did he bother to ask you to study with him in the first place? He curses his past self - where did he exactly work up the courage?

“Let’s take a break, shall we? My brain is overloaded with the studying we’ve been doing.”

“Ah, that’s right,”

He glances over the grandfather clock from the corner of his eye. Whoa, it should be that time now.

“Well, we can end this here, [Reader]. I believe it’s time for croquet.”

“We mustn’t be late for that, can’t we?”

The both of you tidy up your books and prepare to return to the dorm.

“Indeed.”

Yet, before you can carry your burden of books, Riddle has already beat you to it; with a couple of taps of his magical pen, the books trail behind him, leaving you burdenless.

“Riddle, I could handle that, you know~”

“I’ve read from a book that a gentleman must help a lady at all times. I can’t have you hoisting our study material, [Reader]. We must be in proper form when we play today.”

You scoff, feeling a retort bubble by your lips.

“Sure, Dorm Head Rosehearts. By the way, I think you weren’t studying in the library.. What’s up?”

Oh, Riddle was certainly hoping you weren’t going to ask him. His pale complexion turns rosy red.

“That’s none of your concern.”

He quickens his pace, already anticipating the barrage of teases from you. The second year would rather die than admit that he had a huge crush on you, even so using the opportunity to study together as a means to get closer to you.

“Aww, Riddle. If you had trouble with an assignment, you should’ve said so~ There is no trouble in asking.”

A smirk as wicked as Cheshire’s widens on your lips.

“It’s fine, [Reader]. No need to trouble yourself with me. I was concentrating that whole time.”

Riddle wished he hadn't asked Trey and Cater for trivial dating advice.

“Oh really? Were you trying to tell me something, dear Riddle?”

That endearment almost made him trip.

“No! No! Of course not!”

He bristles. The familiar sight of the Rose Gardens close in onto the two. Riddle could fathom a crowd of Heartslabyul residents gathering around for the occasion. With that, the boy recovers some fraction of his dignity, his demeanor returning to the stern dorm leader everyone had known.

“Come now, [Reader]. We’re already late. Another word, and it’ll be off with your head!”

The threat was cute, you had to point out, yet you refrain from voicing out your thoughts as the both of you step into the rose-red gardens of the dorm.

[heylorrain]

Hello there💓✨TYSM for the ask anon! ofc I have a draft for it. I was actually planning on incorporating it somehow on their main fic but at this point I don't think she'll do it. This illustration goes with the writing so, here you go 💖🥹 Word count:: 863 + much fluff - read it on AO3 or expand and enjoy "Beneath your Beautiful"

“May I?” The curiosity was obvious in Lorrain’s voice, her hand reaching out slowly towards Ominis' wrist.

He was momentarily taken aback by the sudden touch and request, but he had figured sooner or later this would happen.

 He chuckled and handed the girl his wand.

Lorra tossed aside her book and sat straight on the bed after her wish was finally granted. She closed her eyes, focusing on calming her senses, feeling the light weight of the wand in her hand. She forced herself to breathe slower, more controlled, to fill her lungs with deep, measured inhales. But the wand sat silently in her hand, its usual flicker of crimson light absent.

She strained her ears for any sound beyond the heater of the dorm, but all else was quiet.

Still nothing. 

Ominis waited patiently. He knew she would see nothing, just like Sebastian and Anne had when they tried to “see” through his wand; but still wanted her to try it, just to keep her enthusiasm alive for a little longer.

"Perhaps you should try to relax?" Ominis suggested, noticing the impatience in her foot as it began to stomp on the floor repeatedly. 

He reached for her free hand.

And then it happened. 

His touch felt like a wave crashing into shore, calming and invigorating all at once. She gasped, squeezing her eyes shut even tighter as she felt her senses overload. Ominis' touch was exactly what she needed to finally make the wand work.

She saw bright colors swirling around her, passing through what seemed to be Ominis' silhouette, like bright ribbons of light. Though she couldn't make out any specific details, his silhouette seemed to flicker like a fire, with gentle dancing flames that encapsulated his essence. 

“A-Are you seeing anything?” He said surprised, noticing how her vibe had changed so abruptly, not letting her hand go just yet. 

He could hear her rasped breaths, but she didn't respond, her focus completely consumed by the blinding figure before her.

Lorra’s hand gripped Ominis’ tightly. Her surroundings had changed, bright warm colors enveloping the glowing figure, her eyes darting everywhere behind closed lids while more color joined in, yellow, white…

Ominis kept asking her what was happening, but got no response, only sharp gasps. Grabbing her shoulders and making his way up to her face, he mapped her features, he felt the clinging of her jaw, her furrowed brows and her mouth biting her bottom lip. Cupping her face he shook her gently, trying to get her out of that hypnotic state. 

Finally her eyes flew open just to find everything like it was before she closed her eyes. No bright colors, no silhouettes. Just a dimly lit dorm. Everything was back normal. Well, most of it, she found Ominis inches away from her, watching her anxiously and uneased. 

“Goodness gracious, woman! Are you trying to give me a heart attack!?” He exclaimed, pulling his wand away from her hand. "Are you alright? You stopped-"

But she lunged towards him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck and burying her face in the crook of his neck. It wasn’t enough. She needed to feel even closer to him, so she climbed onto his lap and pressed herself against him, feeling his heartbeat against her chest.

Ominis remained frozen, his hands hovering in the air as he hesitated what to do next. But as the sound of her cries reached his ears, he couldn't help but pull her gently against him. He could feel the contrast of their breaths mingling together, one shaken and uneven, the other slow and steady. He was certain that she had witnessed something entirely different from what he typically saw when wielding his wand.

“What did you see?” He whispered.

She pulled away, drying her tears with her sweater. She looked at him for a moment, trying to make sense of everything she’d experienced.

"I saw you... YOU. Entirely. Your essence?. I saw YOU." She cradled his face, drawing him in until their foreheads met as she spoke further. “But I felt your pain too. The one you hide from everyone else. How do you manage to endure it so easily?” 

Ominis was not expecting that answer. He sure couldn’t see or feel everyone else’s pain, nor see right thru them. He tried to remain cool, thinking of a simple answer to brush off that statement. But he knew better than to lie to her. 

“I don’t know. That’s just who I am. I wish I didn’t bleed so easily when things get-” But he couldn’t finish the sentence. “I can’t change it, even if I wanted to…” Ominis said, tilting his head down.

A warmth spread through Lorra's chest, making her hold her breath in anticipation. She couldn't resist the magnetic pull towards him, ending in a bittersweet kiss. Her lips felt almost unworthy of his touch, but still grateful to be able to feel it.

"You deserve so much more than this," Lorra whispered against his lips.

But he simply smiled and pulled her closer, his embrace conveying all that needed to be said. I...already have everything I need. He thought silently.

[tillysslife]

・❥・ALL TO YOU࿐

in which ... angelica reyes and drew starkey's love story is anything but ordinary. angelica, a non-commital type wants nothing more than to run away from drew's intense gaze and way of seeing straight through her. drew is infatuated with her but when ghosting and fake boyfriends get in the way it's hard to keep fighting. 

will angelica slip through his fingers again or will drew fight for their love?

‧₊˚♪𝄞࿐₊˚⊹

pairings: drew starkey x singer!fem!oc

content: fluff, angst overload, perhaps smut?? dk yet

warnings: age gap, childhood abuse, drug/alcohol use, mentions of SA, sexual content and profanity.

‧₊˚♪𝄞࿐₊˚⊹

⋆ 𐙚 ̊. MAIN—CHARACTERS ⭑.ᐟ

sabrina carpenter as angelica reyes

drew starkey as drew starkey

⋆ 𐙚 ̊. SUPPORTING—CHARACTERS ⭑.ᐟ

sydney sweeney as sydney sweeney

shay rudolph as avyina reyes

jacob elordi as jacob elordi

gracie abrams as gracie abrams

madelyn cline as madelyn cline

olivia rodrigo as olivia rodrigo

gracie abrams as gracie abrams

⋆ 𐙚 ̊. SIDE—CHARACTERS ⭑.ᐟ

obx cast as themselves

alexa demie as alexa demie

odessa a’zion as odessa a’zion

ryan reynolds as peter reyes

blake lively as genevieve reyes

‧₊˚♪𝄞࿐₊˚⊹

chapters

・❥・ALL TO YOU master list

introduction to angelica reyes

chapter one

chapter two

‧₊˚♪𝄞࿐₊˚⊹

A/N: i’ve posted this on my wattpad if you would like to check it out. i’m so excited to get writing seriously.

A/N: tumblr is actually such a cute little website and i'm lowkey liking it better

[dontnoticemelol]

Tsu'tey x Reader– Fluff Oneshot

Word Count: 960

Summary: Reader is feeling doubtful of their relationship, nature itself does its best to help...

Warnings: None really, just fluff. So– beware...

The lazy, afternoon sun shone brightly overhead your basking bodies, and casted an indescribable shine onto the vivid cerulean skin. For once in a long time, you truly felt at peace.

You mostly owed it to your rewarding self- introspection, but there was another side to it. Perhaps, part of it came from the scene which played out in front of you. There was only one true description that served it justice. Utter benevolence from Mother Nature— Eywa, herself.

It bewildered you and continued scratching at your mind, how different you had become. Although, it was progressive development it was still rather puzzling. Only a couple of months ago, were you filled with romance repulsion. A romance hater, you could have named yourself.

Any mere thought of ever being in love nauseated you. You could have done your best to gaslight yourself into believing that you were simply a logical person. Someone who doesn't care to fraternise with emotions. However, your recently resolved trust issues would have told an otherwise contrasting story.

Tsu'tey's head lay atop your soft thighs and his pretty braids splayed out in an Ethereal formation. You leaned over towards him at the sight of his jaw twitching ever so slightly. He looked completely peaceful in such a state, one of his arms were folded under his head as support.

You felt a flutter in your heart as you realised how comfortable he must have felt around you. Anyone could have sworn that your thighs were his sacred resting ground.

Your hand made contact with his shoulder blade administering feather-light caresses until his midarm. Defined muscles lightly twitched underneath his iridescent skin with every soft touch.

Regardless of all this, your most heartfelt aspect to this had to be his pure facial expression. You felt his shallow, slow breathing and the serene flow of pristine air radiating thoughout his ligamature, with your hand. His eyes were at a full close which meant he had lowered his guard, at long last, for you.

If you were given a choice between this Tsu'tey– who embodied the veracious definition of seraphic, as opposed to the hypervigilant warrior, Tsu'tey Te Rongloa Ateyitan. You would choose the former in half a heartbeat.

He deserved this— peace. A sense he usually never felt. He always took on the everyday prerogative of being a praised warrior, and not to mention the undeniably overwhelming weight of shaping the future warriors for the clan.

Off in the distance, a striking saturation pulled your attention away from your dearly beloved. The bushes rustled as a pack of tetrapterons leapt around in the foliage, making some noise in the process.

This was actually your first time seeing such a creature face-to-face. What made this even more magical, were the small offsprings that slowly trudged behind the grown tetrapterons. Their stubby limbs and small frames effectively tugged at your heartstrings.

Occasionally, they would lose their balance and trip over their own feet, and stumbled to the ground. Fortunately, they weren't harmful falls.

You let out an "Aww... " from the cuteness overload, only remembering after that Tsu'tey was asleep right on your lap. Glancing down in slight guilt, you thankfully, saw him softly dozing away. You turned your vision back to the majestic creatures.

This time around, more details came to your attention. The two leading the pack caught your eye, and after a swift observation, new information came to light.

There was shared love between them, apparent and time-stopping to their surrounding world. A sense of pure hope blossomed within your soul, to one day share this same aura with Tsu'tey after mating.

Of course, you had already agreed on the right time, and mutually reassured each other about the aftermath. Yet, a stubborn worry always lingered in the back of your mind.

Your main concern was whether you would still be as in love as before...

Even though you knew very well that this was the bonding of each others' souls, there was still the instilled fear that came from you using an avatar body.

As usual, you did your best to not overthink and linger on this thought. As if on cue, you reminisced on the deep unconditional love which you had for each other. Surely, it would only amplify after the mating, right?

A soft chuckle graced your eardrums. "How cute..." Tsu'tey said, drowsily. You turned to him with confusion since you hadn't noticed him stir awake. He shifted his body to properly look up at you, and let out a soft grunt of slight struggle.

A small grin spread across his cheeks as he inspected your baffled visage. "Wait... How long have you been awake?" You asked, noticing his eyebrows slightly scrunch as he searched for the answer.

"Well— I think, for a short while now." He finally replied, gazing up at you with eyes covered by exhaustion. You simply nodded back at him. He appeared deep in thought as he moved his free arm onto his abdomen. He looked off to the side, towards the pack. "I hope we'll be as in love as them, after we mate."

A cheeky smile slowly made it's way onto your face, despite your lazy effort to suppress it. You released a humoured laugh. "That's exactly what I was thinking!" You revealed, shaking your head with an enthusiastic grin.

Perhaps, it would all be okay afterall. At the end of the day, it was mostly up to how much dedication and commitment you would each give into your relationship. After this brief exhange, your doubts were considerably eased.

Gone were some of the negative thoughts, replaced instead, by the positive ones.

'Our bond and relationship will continue to blossom, afterall, we were meant for each other.' You thought to yourself.

______________________

Thank you for reading— 🤭♥

[kunikame]

5 times he thought he was the sun, and the 1 he realized he wasn't. - deuce s.

warnings : mostly deuce centric, angst, fluff, middle school deuce, violence mention, ace trappola, astral imagery and references (ITS MY TRADEMARK TRUST ME OK), im not sorry w/c : 2,448

1. when his mom said so.

it is a universally known fact that deuce spade is a “mama’s boy”. he is anything but ashamed of this, on the contrary, he carries the title with pride. his mother was the one who raised him and took care of him all his life, the least he can do is be proud of that and strive to be the best he can, so her efforts don’t go to waste.

this, he comes to realize in his middle school years, after witnessing his mother crying over his wounds first hand. she had berated him many times for being a “punk” and “gangster” (her words, not his), but he’s never seen her cry, no matter how bad things were.

so he strove to do better.

fueled by the pure and unfiltered shame and guilt pooling at the pit of his stomach, he sat as his mother bandaged his wounds, her tears mixing with the salve and blood streaming down his knuckles. in his defense, the guy totally deserved the beating he got, but he no longer believes it was worth it– not if the end result was his dearly beloved mother shedding tears over him.

the salve stung more than it normally did on that day.

over the next couple weeks he made sure to cut ties with all his friends and avoided getting into unreasonable fights like the bubonic plague. it was a bit hard, he admits, since all middle school kids are assholes who sometimes deserve a nice punch in the face, but he had to hold himself back and be good– an honor student.

as yet another fightless school day ended, a distant memory he seemed to have long forgotten and classified as “not important” resurfaced. 

if he remembers correctly, he was about 8 at the time, just having learnt the concept of space and planets and the solar system in geography class. they had a ritual, his mother and him– as they walked home after classes ended hand in hand, tiny deuce would retell his entire day in great detail as his mother listened attentively and added her own comments sometimes. that's when he told her about the sun and how it was the center of everything.

suddenly sweet little deuce stopped in his tracks, an expression clearly showing he was deep in thought (and effectively overloading his brain, he will definitely need to take a nap later) etched on his face. he then looked up at her with sparkling eyes, and asked “does that mean im your sun, mama?”

the blue haired woman stunned for a mere moment, only to laugh so sweetly deuce berates himself for ever forgetting this dear, precious memory, “yes, darling. yes, you are.”

8 year old deuce thought he would never be happier.

he, however, failed to realize the sun tends to be red, perhaps orange.

never blue.

2. when people avoided him while staying in his orbit.

deuce has always considered himself a people magnet, for better or worse.

in middle school he was feared with friends few and far between, but despite being actively avoided by most of the student body, they still somehow, some way, gravitated towards him for one reason or another.

despite beating people up being his most common activity, deuce spade loved helping people. his mother raised him to always be mindful of others and help when he can, so he did just that– though sometimes in.. less academically acceptable means. 

he didn’t just fight for fun, don’t get him wrong. he preferred to bring justice where it was due– to bullies. if one of his classmates was being bullied in front of him, he couldn’t just sit back and watch when he had 2 perfectly functioning hands and the offender a perfectly punchable face.

that is how deuce found himself feared, yet adored, at the same time. pulling people in while unintentionally pushing them away. 

at night raven college he was no longer feared, or adored. there were guys much scarier, more powerful than him, why would anyone be scared of a first year without his unique spell? why would he be adored without having done anything to be deserving of adoration? if anything, he was constantly causing problems instead. this is not how his plan of being an honor student was supposed to go.

his kind and– contrary to high school– chill nature did seem to still pull people towards him, though. he had changed a lot since his “punk” days, he was much calmer and friendlier now, which seemed to make it easier for people to approach him. that’s how he found himself making many new friends for this journey.

much like the sun with the planets, it’s trusty companions, deuce also had his.

he had, yet again, failed to realize the sun was less good natured than him.

3. when he got his unique spell.

deuce was truly overjoyed the day it happened. what made it even better was that he was the first of his new friend group to manifest it!

well, technically– jack already had his before he came to nrc, so he doesn’t really count. for pride's sake.

better yet, it’s a super useful and powerful spell! he’s sure to make his mom proud with this one, he thinks to himself as he walks down one of the many dark hallways the school holds, smiling all the while.

now he’ll be more useful if there’s another overblot– now he can protect people with his magic! without having to use his fists (though it would be for a good cause, he reasons)! 

now he can protect his dear magicless friend from harm, without having to rely on others too much.

many overblots have happened since you came here, and deuce has always felt bad he couldn’t do much to protect you, despite being a person in need and his promise to his mother. he thought himself too weak, which wasn’t too far from the truth– that much was proved in the actual battles. but now he has something more to him, something useful, and he’s going to milk the absolute most out of it. he’s going to hone his abilities even more to protect you, and others, better.

because that’s who he strives to be– one who protects, rather than one who harms. one who illuminates the darkest of days, one who shines in peril, one who saves.

much like the sun bestows it’s rays upon the earth, helping it flourish and grow and continue spinning.

he fails to notice the recent heatwave warnings.

4. when he kept his peers warm through the cold nights and days.

as previously mentioned, deuce saw himself as a kind of protector– to his friends and strangers alike. he saw a person in need, he helped, there was no deeper meaning, no poetic underlying translation to his actions.

it was simply second nature.

much like his mother used to put her hands on the edges of counters when he was under them, he, too, instinctively reaches to cover the edge of his desk when you lean down to pick up something you dropped.

contrary to popular belief, deuce spade is severely aware of his surroundings. he always keeps his eyes out for anything that might eventually bring harm to one of his fellow students, his neighbors, his mother, himself. he believes in good deeds returning to you one day, so he does his best to do as many of them as possible– seven know he’s going to need all the luck he can dig up for his finals.

the skills he picked up from his mother especially come in handy at times like these. if there’s any trinkets or machines at ramshackle that you need fixed but crowley doesn’t care and you simply can’t, deuce is lined up at the entrance and fixing it without you ever asking him to. if you mention something not working his mind is immediately preoccupied with finding ways to fix it as soon as possible.

he would rather fail a class than have one of his dear friends hurt over something he could’ve easily prevented had he been there.

so he keeps his eyes peeled and ears alert, observing and listening for any and all opportunities to be useful.

it was around winter time when the heating system at ramshackle broke down and you and grim barely had anything to keep yourselves warm. instead of your bedroom, you found yourself sleeping in the living room, right by the fireplace. the holes in the walls and shabby windows did not do much to keep the cold out, and despite the raging fire right in front of you, you still shivered and huddled further into your several layers of clothes and blankets.

once deuce found out, the first thing he did was curse crowley for being so irresponsible and refusing to fix it for you due to “low funding” (completely ignoring the fact you do all kinds of jobs for him without ever being paid more than what covers your monthly living expenses). the second thing was rush to ramshackle with a toolbox, fully intent on fixing it himself. he’s done it once before, surely he can do it again.

you slept in your warm bedroom again that night.

later, deuce woke in the middle of the night, having a dry throat and no water on his bedside table.

he snuck into the heartslabyul kitchen undetected, and once he refilled his glass, successfully made his way back to his room.

compared to the rest of the dorm, however, he noticed the room was awfully and oddly cold. that’s when he noticed the open window, and ace shivering in his bed.

deuce heaved a shivery sigh and headed to close the window, but he found himself stopping just short of it, glancing at his roommate still shivering, completely uncovered by his blanket. despite hating his guts, ace was still a close friend of his, so with another sigh he walked up to his bed and covered him again, much like his mother used to do to him.

much like the sun keeps the planets warm throughout the year.

he seems to have forgotten mercury is nearing incineration, while uranus and neptune are mostly frozen.

5. when he was akin to the morning light, soft and gentle.

deuce prided himself in being an early bird, he naturally rose with the sun.

maybe it was due to being used to being woken up by his mothers alarms, maybe he just developed this skill over the years– he himself is not entirely sure.

ace always complained about how he could be so energetic and alert in the mornings, while the redhead was completely out of it.

deuce took joy from being able to watch the sunrise. watching the colors of the sky slowly change in the morning energized him plenty for the day to come– it reminded him that no matter what happens, the sun will rise again tomorrow.

this morning, however, he is seeing it in an entirely different light.

him, ace, sebek, jack, epel and ortho had all spent the night at ramshackle at a first year sleepover, organized by you. admittedly, it was the most fun he’s had in a while– and not just him, either, since even sebek seemed to be coming out of his shell.

after the others had long gone to sleep, you stayed up with deuce to chat deep into the night, since you had no classes the next morning. you could allow yourself a little leisure.

deuce spade has never heard his voice be as soft as it was then. he had whispered with people many times in his life, but not once had he sounded so gentle, so tender while talking to someone.

that is when he finally realized something that he completely let slip by him, something he pinned as absolutely normal.

he realized how gentle he’s always been with you.

ever since you came here, deuce has always treated you with care– like you were something fragile, something he might accidentally break if he held it wrong. his hands were used to causing pain, after all.

but no, not with you. never you.

which is why you compared him to the morning light– because in your view, he was just that. something tranquil, something comforting, something that feels like home.

deuce treated you with love, an indescribable fondness behind his every action– something he himself seemed to miss, yet everyone else noticed.

much like the morning lights gentle rays, deuce spade caressed your face.

+ 1. when the moon's glow felt all too familiar.

when deuce opened his eyes that morning, he could immediately tell it would not be a good day.

the morning light did nothing to his exhaustion, and he felt awfully cold, despite it being spring.

as he walked up to his class, he was greeted by a group of people surrounding ace, murmuring about one thing or another. once he approached, the circle parted to let him through to his seat, and he noticed ace was simply performing his card tricks.

“hey, dude, good morning! look at this trick i came up with–”

as he watched his roommates hands carefully, intent on finding out the secret behind the trick, he blinked only once and suddenly it all clicked into place.

why the sun did nothing to him, why he felt so cold.

the sun wasn’t his.

that was simply it, the sun was not his, deuce spade was never the sun– ace trappola was.

whenever a crowd of people surrounded deuce, ace was there. ace kept people cheerful and entertained throughout the days, deuce only kept them warm at night. 

ace trappola was bright, vivid, warm, eye-catching, red.

deuce spade was dim, cool, easy to miss, blue.

ace trappola was everything deuce was not, but everything he wished to be. 

and yet, one could not function without the other. deuce needed ace as much as ace needed him– they complimented each other perfectly, be as it may.

through the envy pooling in the pit of his stomach, he mustered up a smile and praised the redhead for his newest trick, applauded even. through the envy he watched as ace lit up, shining brighter than the sun in the window right next to his head, and he realized he could never compete over something he could never do.

he could never do what ace trappola does as effortlessly as breathing.

although quite similar in nature, the moon could never do what the sun does naturally. 

and, perhaps, the moon, too, had once wished to be the sun.

ੈ✩₊˚TAGLIST : @lunavixia @solxima @gabirii @erigaur @pomegranateboba //ask/comment or fill form to be added/removed! (if you're in bold i can't tag you)

[aventurineswife]

The Gamble of Forever

Summary: Aventurine starts his day preparing to leave for work, only to be caught off guard by a heartwarming scene: his child running around in mischief while you, disheveled and radiant, chase after them in your underwear. The moment reminds him of how deeply in love he is with you, solidifying that his chaotic but beautiful family life is his greatest treasure.

Tags: Dad!Aventurine x Parent!Reader, Fluff, Domestic Bliss, Established Relationship, Married Life, Humor, Morning Chaos, Tender Moments.

Warnings: Mild suggestiveness (mention of the reader being in underwear for a comedic moment), Family fluff overload.

A/N: This was inspired by a post I saw on yt shorts where someone shared a tweet about their wife chasing their child while still in her bra, yet she still had time to smile at her husband before continuing running after the child. It made his heart skip a beat, and I just had to write this for Aventurine because it was perfect and suited him! 🥺💖

The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, bathing the elegant yet cozy home in a golden glow. Aventurine adjusted his blazer in the hallway mirror, his eyes scanning his reflection with practiced precision. He ran a hand through his hair, ensuring every strand was in place. The faint sound of giggles from another room brought a subtle smile to his lips.

Family mornings had become his favorite gamble—chaotic, unpredictable, yet impossibly rewarding.

Aventurine turned just in time to see your child dart across the hallway, their laughter ringing through the air like music. They were wearing an oversized shirt—his, judging by the familiar shirt colour—and clutching a stuffed animal as if it were a prized trophy.

Hot on their heels came you, disheveled but radiant, holding a neatly folded outfit in one hand. The moment he saw you, his breath caught. You were still in your underwear, your hair tousled from the morning rush, and your cheeks flushed from chasing the little whirlwind. Despite the flustered look, or perhaps because of it, you were breathtaking.

You skidded to a halt as you noticed Aventurine standing there. For a brief second, your eyes met his, and you gave him a sheepish, glowing smile.

"Good morning, love," you said, voice tinged with laughter before resuming your chase. "Get back here, you little rascal!"

Aventurine leaned against the wall, his hand unconsciously adjusting the choker around his neck. He felt his heart skip a beat, his ever-present smirk softening into something far more genuine.

It was a rare and tender moment, the kind that pierced through the carefully constructed walls he’d built around his heart. He’d always known you were his anchor in a stormy sea, but seeing you like this—barefoot, glowing with life, and utterly devoted to their shared little world—made him fall for you all over again.

He closed his eyes briefly, savoring the warmth spreading through his chest. Was this how love deepened? Not in grand gestures or dramatic declarations, but in these fleeting, chaotic moments that painted a life together.

You emerged from the living room, child in tow, now successfully dressed and giggling in your arms. Aventurine straightened, his smirk returning as he held out his arms.

"Do I get a proper goodbye, or are you two planning a coup against me while I’m away?" he teased, the dramatic lilt in his voice causing your child to burst into laughter.

"Only if you keep working too much." you quipped, handing your child over to him.

Aventurine lifted them effortlessly, spinning them around until they shrieked with delight. When he finally set them down, he pulled you into his arms, his lips brushing your forehead.

“You’re incredible, you know that?” he murmured, the words soft but sincere. “I don’t say it enough.”

You smiled up at him, your hands resting on his chest. "And you’re late." you teased, leaning in for a quick kiss.

He chuckled, stepping back reluctantly. “Fine, fine. But only because I’d rather not risk losing my title as Senior Manager to some rookie.” He turned to your child, crouching to their level. “Take care of your parent, alright? Keep them out of trouble.”

“Okay!”

With one last lingering look at you, Aventurine adjusted his blazer and hat, his earring catching the light. As he stepped out the door, he couldn’t help but glance back, a rare tenderness glimmering in his eyes.

Some gambles were worth more than any jackpot. And this—this life with you—was his greatest win.

[dawnoftime22]

okay this might be an odd request but could you do Taylor Swift comforting a male reader about their insecurities? Or the reader comforting Taylor after a hard day at work or something like that idk. Love you work!

pent up feelings.

| T.S

Warnings: Taylor crying, overthinking, R comforting, lots of kisses for assurance

Summary: Taylor's had her rough week, going through all the world throws at her as she tries to stand tall. But upon one night, she comes home to you with an exhausted mind, needing nothing else but you.

Word Count: 3k

Category: fluff, comfort

A/N: I think this was pretty hard for me to make because it hurts for me to witness tay being emotional, more so even write about it :( I do very much love having it out here though, and writing special details like the ones in this fic are precious to me

A/N on request: its not odd at all! I chose the second option only because I wasnt entirely sure what insecurities you wanted me to do. I also dont reaaally write male reader (I do gn!reader/not specifying gender), but still thank you so much for the request! I really hope this reaches your expectations and I hope that you're doing well<3

| Started on 20/07/2024, 7:19 AM |

| Finished on 04/08/2024, 6:41 PM |

Main Masterlist | T.S Masterlist

"Consumed by my own overloaded thoughts and bottled up emotions, that they spill into tears."

"But darling, here, my arms will be open for you to tiredly lean into, to wrap around your exhilirated soul and keep you warm with all my love."

|——————————— ⸆⸉ ———————————|

The moon was high in the sky when Taylor arrived home, heart heavy. She gently shuts the door, the sound echoing through the space and mixing in with the crickets.

Once she got her shoes off, she looks around, but the room was empty aside from her cats in the living room. Meredith was casually napping on the couch, her form swirled up gracefully. Taylor moves closer, reaching up her hand to gently scratch her on the head.

The cat stirred, a gentle purr sounding out as it leans into her touch. She stares down, seeing the gray shades Meredith had mixed in with the white color of her fur.

With how quiet the house seemed to be, and with you nowhere in the living room, Taylor expected you to be asleep in the bedroom, only wishing you were here to greet her.

Yet, when she glances to the bedroom, the door was open just a crack, and it had her curious. Perhaps you had forgotten to close it entirely, or even wanted to hear her come home. The thought swelled her heart. But, she couldn't think that anyone could have possibly wanted to do such a thing.

Her legs go forward, every footstep being careful. Each and every one of her muscles were aching, and her heart was tired, but she mustered up all her energy to find you.

A gentle creak sounds out as Taylor tilts her head, peeking in. The bed was actually empty, making her heart skip a beat. But when she looks further up, you were sitting at her desk chair, fully awake.

You heard the sound of the door, and you turn to look at her, seeing her stunned expression that was blinking at you. You smile softly, not minding her surprise.

"Baby," she says under her breath, closing the door behind her as she lets her shoulders fall down. It was clear she was absolutely wondering what you were doing awake.

"Hi," you replied back gently with a small wave, tilting your head as you took in her appearance. She seemed tense, and her eyes held just the smallest glimpse of worry, even though you were the one who had been having reeling thoughts, concerned for her wellbeing.

"What're you doing up...?" She asks with her voice soft, putting her bag down on the nightstand and taking one step forward. But you seemed so far to her. So many steps.

Your eyes soften, feeling your heart ache at the mere question, and you fully turn to her, arm rested on the desk beside you.

"Waiting for you...What else?" you said softly, watching her eyes come to realization and her teeth have its bite on her lower lip, something telling of the anxiety swirling in her.

"Oh...I...you didn't have to," she said, the corner of her lips raising up slightly, but it seemed almost nervously, with the action of her eyes traveling from the floor and to you. But you kept your gentle appearance, your next movement only being a shake of your head.

"No, but I wanted to," you whispered. You gave her a small reassuring smile, hoping it'll calm down some of her nerves. She took a breath, her teeth not properly letting go of her lip just yet.

You searched her eyes, needing to look intently from how far you were. "...Did something happen?" you asked gently, slowly moving to stand up and make your way to the bed to get closer to her, but not too much so you're not intruding on her space.

She stopped biting her lip, but it was only to speak. "No-- its...I'm just..." she shook her head. It was almost as if she was at a loss for words. Perhaps it was either the tireness within her, or the way every one of her thoughts inside her collided against each other, each thing that had ever happened from just one thing or everything.

The blonde meets your eyes, taking in a breath. "...Its nothing," she whispered, her voice nearly shaking. Her fingers gently furled, and her jaw clenched for just a moment. You went to settle down on the bed in the meanwhile, resting against the pillows.

You gazed at her, "Come here," you whispered softly, putting your arms out slightly for her. She searches your eyes for a second, but doesn't waste another when she goes to the bed without more steps as she was close to it already, her lip having a slight noticeable tremble.

You felt your heart ache as Taylor crawls into bed with you, going closer until she's curled up against you to find your comfort. In the quietness of the bedroom, the noise of movement was there, but then a sniffle sounds out, and your hands wrap around her, gently, but tightly.

You gently weaved through her hair, resting your chin lightly atop her head as you were aware of the care she craves for deeply.

A gentle but shaky inhale comes from her, and you gaze down with soft concern, a small frown forming upon your lips.

"You know..." you whisper gently, starting your sentence with only a few words so she can bring her attention to your voice. Your hand slows down, and your lips move to place a soft kiss atop her head before pulling back just a little, just to let her eyes meet yours. "You don't always have to be strong, sweetheart..."

She felt the words hit her like a realization as she looked into your eyes; her vulnerable expression cracking, yet, still, her walls were kept high, and she shook her head.

"Just a bad day..." she mumbles, leaning into you. Her hand traces the collar of your shirt, feeling the confined outlines of the factory stitches against the pad of her fingers.

She knows you want to know what made it all go wrong. Whatever happened to her that made her have to fight back these darning tears she hated. But she doesn't wanna talk about anyone or anything. She just wanted to be with you.

"I-- there's...too many things." she whispers out shakily, starting to break, but you keep your gentle gaze, your hand resuming with its gentle motion on her back.

"Its okay. You don't have to explain." You shake your head, whispering back. She bit the inside of her cheek, looking up at you with glossy irises.

"...It was a lot." Her tears were threatening to leave the edge of her eyes, the gleam of it visible in the dim lighting. You can feel a crack going inside your heart, aching at how tired she looked.

She had been everywhere the past few days. There was nearly no time for her to catch a break. Today was her last straw, and it had perhaps continued to go even while she had nothing else to fight with, other than with the known fact that she was coming back home to you. But her mind was clouded with anxiety, even with the thought of you.

"I just need you...." She admitted, the sound of her voice barely even above the breath that had escaped along her words. You take in a gentle breath, your cheek brushing against her hair as you nod.

"I know..." you murmured, pulling her closer. Her fingers curled into your shirt, lightly gripping the fabric. Soon, her walls crumble, and she stifles the broken sob that leaves her lips, echoing off the walls of your shared bedroom that you've spent countless memories in together, full of love and care.

Your eyes squint in sadness, and you place a gentle kiss on the side of her head since her face was buried in the crook of your neck, hidden away from your view.

"Let it all out, sweetheart..." you whisper softly, quietly, just as the way Taylor was trying to stifle her sobs. Your skin felt the warm tears that had gone down, tracing a path down to your shirt that soaked it up.

"You're home now, safe with me..." you murmur, hugging her tighter, letting her release the deeply held emotions she's kept for far too long.

Your hands could feel the wracking shakes of her body, the warmth in her presence, but the heaviness of her shoulders, holding, maybe even the weight of the entire world.

The ceiling fan gently created white noise that overlayed the sounds of quiet sobs and movement, wind passing by your ear all while you whisper soft reassurances to soothe her rattling heart.

"I'm sorry I'm late..." she mumbles suddenly, her breath hiccuping. Your eyes glide to her in concern, but since she was hidden away in your neck, you could only see her golden blonde locks. Instead, you move to softly kiss her temple, tilting your head to reach it.

"Shh...its okay, I promise," you murmur in a hushed soothe, leaning back so you could take a look at her face. You offer her a comforting smile, and your hand moves to gently push her stray hairs away from her face.

"You have a lot of work. I know that, sweetheart. You don't always have to be early or 'on time', whenever that is..." you shake your head as you say your gentle words, expressing them as you go.

Taylor blinks and sniffles, her nose red and her eyes puffy. She licks her dry lips, taking in a stumbled breath. You stay in patience, reaching up to brush your thumb against her cheek, wiping the tears away from her soft skin. You took gentle care in your touch, going further up to the corner of her eye; where the source of the tears are.

"You don't mind...?" she asks, her voice strangled and out of pitch. But that doesn't matter. She wasn't onstage for the moment. She was with you. Where she could be who she was however she wanted to be.

Your eyes soften, and you lean in closer, your lips making contact with the tip of her nose. "Sweetheart...of course not. I just get worried about you, you know?"

She searches your eyes, as if looking, for even a fraction of a lie. But all you had well within your pupils were love and honesty. Something she never knew was possible to see in someone's eyes without a certain deviousness accompanied with it.

Her breaths were still unsteady, but she swallows it down, trying to communicate with you. "I-I'm scared..." she whispered shakily, her eyes darting away from your gaze.

You look at her without judgement, tilting your head with a slight curiosity, a gentle expression simply to be there for her.

"Of what?" you question, your mind quickly going through anything she could be anxious of in case she needs an aid to her tainted mind.

But her quietness fortunately didn't stay for long, even when she hesitated. Her lower lip had a visible teeth mark from her biting. "What if..." she starts, but trails off, unable to say the words.

You tip your head downward slightly, letting her gather her courage and words without intrusion.

"What if I get back home and you're not here?" She whispered through a broken voice, afraid of all the outcomes that she's ever come up with in her head. You were her home. The house wouldn't be a home without you, and her kingdom would shatter, would the character of you no longer be present.

"Hey...I love you, okay?" You whisper, moving to cradle her face in your hands, something she hasn't felt in a while. But you always did that. Brushing your fingertips over her cheeks. She leans into the touch, her eyes welling up once more. Her racing mind and her worries were slowing down, starting to pay attention and hearing your gentle voice.

"I love you." You say the three little words again, ensuring she was listening as you looked into her deep blue eyes, focused on yours. So many thoughts held in her head, but you know her soft heart cannot handle so many things. Not even you, could begin to think of trying to walk that life.

You nibble the corner of your lip slightly, showing your own worry as you think over your words, an action she noticed herself. She reaches up with her trembling hand, gently touching your lip so your teeth would let go. You smile softly, seeing how much she's aware and cares even when she's sad.

"I'm not going anywhere, I promise. Not without you." your light assurance comes out, and the tears in her eyes seemed to have stopped just a little, only looking at you with love instead of just worry. You smile wider, happy to let a small weight fall off her chest.

"I will always love you. I'll love you forever." you murmur, going in to kiss her cheek, peppering soft kisses all over. She feels the way your lips tickle her skin, giving a tingling feeling, and a soft giggle manages to escape her.

"Its okay. Its always going to be okay, yeah?" You tilt your head, your thumb moving to caress the soft skin of her hand. She nods, knowing you're right. How could she have gotten this far anyway, even while worrying that everything would go inevitably wrong sometimes, yet the world always ends up letting her back into her own balance.

A few moments go by as you let her calm down, seeing the way her breaths were still shaky. You took a small deep breath in, keeping the eye contact, and she follows, gathering her normal breathing back. She needed a good cry and simply to let out her emotions, and her soul was relieved as she realizes you had let her do that, simply by being there for her in the meanwhile.

"You're the sweetest human being," you whisper, gazing at her adoringly. Then, your fingers entangle with hers, and you bring one of her hands up to leave a kiss on her knuckles.

The smile that raises on her lips makes your heart skip a beat. She was melting on the inside at how soft you could be. But even with the smile, you can spot the small furrow in her brows, the wince and quick blinking that she did.

You hum softly, knowing exactly what she was dealing with after all the days you've been welcoming her back home. "Headache, hm?" you whisper out, and she pouts, nodding.

"Mm," her own hum escapes, feeling your hands go up to soothe it, putting a light pressure that helps alleviate the headache that caused from her stressful and overwhelming situations of the week.

You continue your actions, watching her eyes close as she leans into your touch, going to the side and nearly resting against your shoulder, but barely putting her entire weight against you.

"You should rest, baby..." you suggest, wanting her to let herself relax, without any more thoughts of interviews, shows, photoshoots, or just about anything that isn't the peaceful sound of rain or the cozy atmosphere of your shared bedroom.

"But..." she starts, inhaling a breath before she was about to go with her sentence, her eyes going up to you, but you cut her off.

"Sleep," you whisper, shifting your position to a more comfortable one. She moves herself, but still curling up against you, arms entangled in the embrace.

"I'll be right here in the morning, and you can wake me up early," you say, smiling softly as you saw her eyes growing droopy at the more comfortable position. Yet, she sniffles from the lingering fluid in her nose that had stayed due to her crying session earlier, and gazes up at you.

"But you're too precious to wake up in the morning..." she murmurs adorably sleepily, resting her head against your chest fully. You breathe out a chuckle, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead.

"And you're too precious for my eyes to miss seeing you," you respond mindlessly, making her smile. You turn your head and reach over to your side, grabbing a clean tissue from the nightstand and giving it to her.

She looks at you with a thankful expression, and moves the tissue to her nose, blowing into it. Your gaze turns gentle, your hand rubbing her back as she clears out the remaining inside of her nose.

When she was done, she was about to hold onto the tissue since she didn't want to be a burden, but when you offer a hand down, she puts the used tissue in your hand. You throw it away, successfully landing it in the trash bin at the desk sitting in the corner of the room.

You then return your attention back to her, tracing patterns on her soothingly. "You know...you should take a day off tomorrow, baby..." you whisper out thoughtfully.

Taylor stays quiet for a moment, her soft breaths going against your shirt. "I don't know if I can..." she says quietly, half her face nestled against you.

"You deserve it after this week, at least," you murmur, your face in the meanwhile, ever so slightly brushing against her hair. She thinks about it, her eyes gazing off.

"Okay," she breathes out, slowly letting her shoulders relax, and her body to unwind. She starts to relish in this moment with you, purely of love and care.

"I'll be making breakfast for you tomorrow," you said, but it wasn't a question, it was an info you wanted to share to her, something to be known.

"You don't--" She starts, but gets cut off by you leaning down and nuzzling your nose against hers, gently brushing in a comforting way.

"Shh. I love you. Close your eyes," you whispered, urging her to sleep instead of protesting of who's cooking tomorrow, when you were wanting to take care of her. A small giggle sounds from beneath you, the blonde being a little surprised at your quick shutdown of her worry.

"I love you, too..." she whispers back, slowly closing her eyes as she felt the covers warm up her body, sided with your own warmth of your body, leading her off to sleep, and hopefully to a peaceful day tomorrow.

----------------------

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[cera-writes]

A Bite of the Big Easy — A Remy LeBeau Vampire AU pt. 1 🩸

Hoooookay! Here's the first chapter of the Vampire!AU. Not gonna lie, this was fun as hell to write. FYI, This is set in a modern day setting>

Pairing: Remy LeBeau x F!Reader

Tags: alcohol, violence, swearing, mentions of infidelity, a bit of fluff

Prompt: Reader is spending her bachelorette weekend down in New Orleans with her bridesmaids. She meets a mysterious stranger with a Cajun flair that shakes things up for her. But will it be more than what she bargained for?

The rhythmic pulse of the music thrummed through the thick New Orleans air, vibrating the cobblestones beneath your dancing feet. It was your bachelorette weekend, and Bourbon Street was a sensory overload in the best way possible. The air hung heavy with the scent of spilled daiquiris and fried seafood, punctuated by the melodic wail of a lone saxophone from a nearby balcony.

You and your girlfriends, a symphony of tipsy laughter in too tight clothing, were jammed into a corner booth at Fat Catz, a legendary French Quarter nightclub. The stage was a riot of color, a burlesque troupe shimmying and swirling under the flickering red light. You were three drinks in, the potent sweetness of a Sazerac warming your stomach, when a slow, bluesy number began.

"This one's for the dreamers," the sultry voice of the emcee announced.

Your girlfriends squealed, grabbing your arms and pulling you towards the dance floor. But before you could join them, a deep, accented voice cut through the music.

You were blissfully unaware that there were a pair of eyes watching you. You didn't have time to really react until a smooth creole voice like velvet rang in your ears amidst the vibrating music.

"Mind if I cut in, cher?"

You turned to find a man standing beside you. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with somewhat long, pretty reddish brown hair that gleamed under the dim lights. His eyes, a startling hue of what looked like the color crimson, held a hint of something ancient, something that sent a shiver down your spine despite the humid night air bellowing inside the door as patrons entered and exited the bar.

"I, uh…" you stammered, momentarily flustered by his undeniable charm.

He chuckled, the sound warm and inviting. "Don't worry, mon ami. I won't tread on your toes, not literally. Name's Remy. Remy LeBeau."

He extended a hand, amusement dancing in his eyes. You hesitated for a beat, then placed your hand in his. The touch sent a jolt through you, an electric current that left you breathless.

Wait. This shouldn't be happening. What would your fiance think? Hell, to be honest, he was probably with his buddies back home having the times of their lives... preferably at a strip joint. One dance couldn't hurt.

As he led you onto the dance floor, you stole a glance at his profile. There was something about him, an aura of mystery that you found utterly captivating.

"You seem like a woman with a story," he murmured, his voice a low drawl that sent shivers down your spine.

"Well, um, I'm actually here with my bridesmaids." You sheepishly smiled, nodding over to them as they swayed tipsy on the dancefloor across from the two of you. Remy was certainly beautiful in a strange sense. But there was something odd about him too. His touch was cool, almost like ice as he placed a hand on the skin of your back. You were just wearing a pair of skinny jeans, ankle boots, and a backless tank top. So when he'd placed his hand there, it nearly made you jump from how ice cold it was.

He made sure to spin you around, twirling you under the muse of the jazz band playing as they took the stage. You felt dizzy, like this was some sort of ritual.

—

Remy's POV

—

A flicker of amusement danced in my crimson eyes as you stammered, your cheeks flushed a charming shade of rose. The scent of honeysuckle and something altogether more intoxicating, a nervous energy perhaps, swirled around you. It had been centuries since I'd indulged in such a human pastime as dancing, but the way you moved, lost in the music, was a melody I couldn't resist.

"Ah, bachelorette festivities, cher," I murmured, my voice a low caress. These nights in the French Quarter were ripe with opportunities, mortals seeking a taste of something forbidden before settling into their preordained lives. But there was something different about you, a spark of defiance in your eyes that intrigued me far more than the usual bachelorette bravado.

"Your friends seem to be enjoying themselves," I continued, watching your gaze flit between me and your giggling companions.

The scent of guilt mingled with the honeysuckle as you bit your lip. This innocent flirtation, fueled by the music and the carefree spirit of the night, was clearly a delicious transgression for you.

"They are," you admitted, your voice barely a whisper. "But something about you..." The sentence trailed off, leaving a delightful space for unspoken curiosity.

A slow deliberate smile spread across my lips. This little dance had just begun, cher. And in the heart of the pulsating French Quarter, under the cloak of anonymity, I planned to savor every step.

—

Your POV

—

Your phone buzzed in your back pocket, yanking you out of Remy's gaze for a sec as you paused your little dance with him. Pulling it out, you saw a text from your fiance.

"Hey beautiful! Having a blast in NOLA? Miss you already! -A"

A stab of guilt hit you. You should be texting back excitedly about daiquiris and burlesque shows, not secretly flirting with a handsome stranger, nor entertaining him with a dance. But Remy's amusement was a delicious lure.

With surprising speed, you typed a reply to your fiance. "Hey hon! Havin' a great time! Dancin' the night away with the girls. Miss you too! See ya soon! 🫶."

Shoving the phone back in your pocket, you looked for a quick excuse to clear your head. Remy's lips quirked up in a knowing smile. "Someone important, cher?" he drawled.

"Hold that thought, I've drank too much and need to use the restroom," you waved it off, cheeks flushed from a rush of adrenaline.

—

Fiance's POV

—

The silk sheets felt like a decadent shroud around Alex, the remnants of their hurried encounter clinging to the air. A satisfied smile curved his lips as he reread your text. "Having a great time! Lots of dancing and fun with the girls. Miss you too! See you soon! 🫶". Everything seemed perfect. The carefully crafted response, the reassurance, the subtle reminder of your impending return. It was a well-rehearsed dance they performed every time you went out with your friends.

Alex tucked his phone away, the soft glow of the screen momentarily illuminating the woman sprawled languidly beside him. Her blonde hair, a tangled mess across the pillow, framed a face flushed with desire. A throaty chuckle escaped her lips, and Alex felt a pang of excitement shoot through him. This stolen moment, this secret affair, was a world away from the life he was about to return to – a life filled with your predictable smiles and picture-perfect expectations.

He knew it was wrong, a gnawing betrayal that twisted in his gut. But the illicit thrill, the intoxicating novelty of it all, was a potent aphrodisiac. Alex traced a finger down the woman's arm, the touch sending shivers down her spine. He reveled in the feeling of being desired, a stark contrast to the comfortable routine he shared with you.

Pushing the guilt down deep, Alex closed the distance between them, the woman's eager embrace momentarily erasing the echo of your name on his lips. Little did you know, the life you were about to return to wasn't nearly as picture-perfect as you believed.

—

Your POV

—

You squeezed your way back through the dense crowd, phone clutched tightly in your hand. The fleeting escape to the restroom offered a moment to clear your head, but the lingering guilt over your conversation with Remy gnawed at you.

Just as you rounded a corner, Remy, his back to you, was surrounded by your bridesmaids, their laughter a touch too loud for your taste. You shouldn't have cared who Remy was talking to, yet a strange possessiveness bubbled within you.

If anything, your bridesmaids had every chance to go home with him, but you were taken. You shouldn't be feeling any sense of jealousy. You literally had no cause to feel the way you did, yet you couldn't help it and it irritated the hell out of you.

You. Had. A. Fiance.

Then, as if sensing your presence, Remy's posture shifted. A flicker of amusement danced in his eyes as he glanced over his shoulder, meeting your gaze directly. A silent excuse passed between your eyes, and with a smooth word to your bridesmaids, he excused himself.

The crowd parted for him as he effortlessly weaved his way towards you, a secret smile playing on his lips. "There you are, cher," he murmured, his voice a delicious caress. "Ready to pick up where we left off?"

"Um, actually, I think I better be retiring for the night. It's getting late and my hotel isn't too far from here." You replied, glimpsing back towards your bridesmaids. They were ordering even more drinks at the bar, like they hadn't had enough already. But who were you to tell them not to have a good time?

"Thank you for the dance. It was fun," you quickly flashed Remy a smile before turning on your heel to at least tell your friends that you were headed back to the hotel. It was only three blocks away. Surely you'd be fine making the walk back. You had your trusty pepper spray on you, tucked into your other back pocket just in case some asshole tried something tonight on your way back.

Guilt gnawed at you as you weaved through the throng of French Quarter partiers spilling out of the bar. You shouldn't have cared that Remy was surrounded by your friends, and yet, a strange possessiveness bubbled up. You quickly shook your head, ignoring that stupid thought away.

It really shouldn't have mattered to you. They were a bit too tipsy to really stop you from making the trip alone, but honestly you needed some peace and quiet after what had just happened. You were sure he'd resort to flirting with them after you left anyway. And that was none of your business if they wanted to go back to his place for the night. You all knew what you were getting into on this trip.

The fresh air would clear your head and the walk back to your hotel would help sober you up. Slipping out of the bar unnoticed, you felt a strange sense of relief when the throng of bodies thinned and the sounds of drunken laughter faded as you finally turned the corner from the ever so rowdy, raucous Bourbon Street.

The night was thick and humid, the dimly lit streets casting long, menacing shadows. New Orleans really did have a haunting feel to it late at night.

You quickened your pace, the rhythmic click of your boots echoing on the sidewalk. Lost in thought, you didn't notice the figure detach itself from a darkened doorway and begin to follow at a discreet distance.

Suddenly, a shadowy figure stepped out from behind a boarded-up storefront. "Hey, doll," he slurred, his voice laced with menace. "Looking lost. Mind if I walk you home?"

You froze, hand instinctively darting towards your back pocket. "No thanks," you replied curtly, voice laced with a tremor of fear. You backed up on instinct, making sure to keep a good distance from the strange man.

The man took a menacing step closer, a predatory glint in his eye. "Suit yourself, sweetheart," he sneered, pulling out what looked like the hilt of a knife from behind him.

Just then, a dark shape materialized beside you. Remy, his movements silent and swift, materialized out of the shadows, placing himself between you and the threat. But the night was so dark and everything was cast in an ebony shadow, that you couldn't make out the other person too well.

"Looking for someone to play with, mon ami? Consider lil' ol' me," Remy drawled, his voice smooth as silk.

The mugger scoffed. "This ain't your business, buddy. Move along."

Before Remy could respond, you whipped out your pepper spray, finger hovering over the trigger. "Get back!" you shrieked, aimlessly pointing the canister directly at Remy.

Fear clouded your judgment, and in a split second, you discharged the spray. A cloud of capsaicin erupted, momentarily obscuring both Remy and the mugger. You squeezed your eyes shut, coughing as the fumes reached you.

When you opened your eyes again, a horrifying sight met your gaze. The mugger had lunged forward, a glint of metal catching the dim light. He plunged the knife into Remy's side, a sickening thud echoing in the night.

Remy, momentarily stunned, stumbled back, a surprised look on his face. But to your astonishment, you couldn't tell there was any blood yet, no sign of a wound. Just a faint hiss escaping his lips as he swatted away the lingering cloud of pepper spray.

"Well, that was certainly interesting, cher," he muttered, his voice strained but oddly amused.

"Shit, Remy?!" You eyes went wide but before you could say anything else, he lunged at the mugger with unnatural speed, easily disarming him with a single, fluid motion. The mugger, wide-eyed with terror, crumpled to the ground with a groan as Remy delivered a swift blow to his pressure point.

Remy straightened, dusting himself off with an air of nonchalance. But you noticed a slight grimace on his face, and your eyes darted to where the knife had struck him. Seeing it finally, there was a small puncture in his shirt, a single red stain blossoming around it.

"Remy!" you gasped, rushing to his side. "You're hurt!"

He glanced at the stain, a hint of surprise flickering in his eyes. "Seems that fella managed to snag me after all," he admitted, a wry smile playing on his lips. "Don't worry, cher, it's jus' a mere scratch. But perhaps you wouldn't mind patchin' me up when we get back? I'd hate to ruin a perfectly good shirt."

Then it hit you. "You were following me weren't you?" You scoffed. "Jesus...how was I supposed to know you weren't gonna pull the same shit as him?" You scoffed, casting a glance over at the guy he'd just knocked out.

"Trust me cher," Remy winced, "If I hadn't have come you'd probably have just pepper sprayed him to death. Better to leave em' knocked out." He smirked.

You sighed, crossing you arms. "Dammit, okay...we gotta make this quick. You sure you don't need me to call someone? An ambulance?"

Remy shook his head. "Not necessary, cher. It's not that bad."

You glanced down at the red stain on his shirt. "Not bad? Your shirt is practically soaked with blood now. C'mon," you huffed, "it's the least I can do for you after you saved my ass and I pepper sprayed you."

Remy simply grinned. "Thanks cher."

"Don't mention it."

He followed you one more block to your hotel. It was over on Ursuline Street so things were much quieter in that part of town. "Hotel Villa Convento. House of the Rising Sun. You've got taste, cherie." He smirked, following you into the elevator.

"Bridesmaids booked it. They wanted the free parking." You shrugged. As the two of you made it to the king suite on the top floor, you made haste and ushered him inside quickly after sliding your room card through the slot.

"We gotta make this quick, okay? They'll probably be heading back any second. I don't think having a strange, rather pretty man in the room with me alone is a good look." You mentioned, pulling him into the bathroom.

"Heh, you think I'm pretty?" He teased. You cast him a look that said 'drop it'.

He took the hint and didn't press you any further much to his amusement. You left him leaning against the bathroom counter to go find your med kit.

"I have a first aid kit in my luggage. I'm always prepared for emergencies." You said, digging through your suitcase before you finally found it shoved underneath a pair of shorts.

"Got it," you quickly met back up with him in the bathroom and realized that you wouldn't be able to dress the wound without getting him to take off his shirt first.

You bit your lip, torn between frustration and a weird sense of exhilaration. Here you were, in a hotel bathroom with a stranger who was undeniably attractive, tending to a wound he got protecting you. This entire freaking night had been a whirlwind, and this situation was just the cherry on top.

"Alright," you started, forcing a business-like tone that you weren't entirely sure you were carrying off. "To patch you up properly, I'll need you to take off your shirt."

Remy, who had been watching you rummage through your kit with amusement, raised an eyebrow.

"Just the shirt, cher? No need to get hasty." A playful glint flickered in his eyes, a hint of his earlier amusement lingering.

"Seriously, Remy?" you countered, a touch of exasperation creeping into your voice despite the unexpected flutter in your stomach. "This isn't some kind of game. You've got a wound, and I need to see it."

He chuckled, a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine despite yourself. "Alright, alright, cher. You win." He slowly unbuttoned his shirt, revealing a glimpse of toned muscle underneath. The red stain from the knife was more prominent now, spreading outwards with a concerning urgency.

You quickly averted your gaze, forcing yourself to focus on the task at hand. This was serious. "Hold still," you muttered, reaching into your kit and pulling out a pair of antiseptic wipes. "This might sting a little."

As you cleaned the wound, your fingers brushed against his cool skin, sending a jolt of electricity through you. You fingertips grazed one of many numerous scars that adorned his body. He winced slightly, but remained silent, a flicker of pain crossing his face. Despite the adrenaline pumping through your veins, your hands were surprisingly steady.

"You know," Remy murmured, his voice a husky whisper, "you mentioned not wanting a strange man in your room. Maybe I wasn't being very reassuring back there."

You paused, glancing up at him. His dark eyes held a hint of something...else, something that made your breath hitch. The implication hung heavy in the air, and a blush crept up your cheeks.

"That's one way to put it," you mumbled, focusing on applying a generous amount of antibiotic cream to the wound. You fumbled for a bandage in your kit, the white sterile squares suddenly seeming much too small for the situation.

"Look," Remy said, his voice softer now, "I appreciate you patching me up. You really didn't have to."

"Well, someone had to," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. You secured the bandage as best you could, the awkward intimacy of the situation making your heart pound a little too fast. "There. All done."

You stepped back, suddenly very aware of the space between the two of you. The silence stretched, thick and heavy with unspoken words. Remy's gaze lingered on you for a beat too long, sending shivers down your spine. You cleared your throat, breaking the spell.

"I, uh, maybe you should get going," you stammered, your voice sounding foreign to your own ears.

"My bridesmaids could be back any minute."

Remy's lips curved into a slow, enigmatic smile. "As you wish, cher. But this isn't the end of our conversation, is it?"

The sheer motherfucking audacity of this man—

He'd waltzed in, danced with you, followed you, then gotten himself stabbed protecting you, and now he was leaving with a suggestive question hanging in the air? You should be relieved to see him go, to finally have a moment to catch your breath and process the chaotic turn your night had taken.

Instead, a strange sense of disappointment settled in your stomach. "I don't…" you stammered, unsure of how to respond. The truth was, you didn't know what this night meant. Remy was a stranger, a captivating enigma who'd saved you from a potential mugging or worse, but you were getting married in a few days.

Remy chuckled, a rich sound that danced along your nerves. "Don't worry about it, cher. Think of it as a…favor owed. You saved me from a dull evening, and I returned the favor. Consider us even." He took a step closer, his dark eyes gleaming with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat.

"But," he continued, his voice a husky whisper, "perhaps you could offer a more…personal repayment sometime. Name the time and place, cher. I wouldn't dream of saying no." With that, he winked, a gesture that sent a jolt of electricity through you.

Before you could stammer out a reply, he turned and you soon heard the click of your room door, leaving you breathless and bewildered in the sterile confines of the bathroom.

You stared at the closed door for a long moment, the weight of his words pressing down on you. A part of you thrilled at the unexpected encounter, to the danger and intrigue and mystery that swirled around Remy. But another, more sensible part, reminded you of your impending wedding, of the life you'd built for yourself.

With a sigh, you forced yourself to focus on the practicalities. You cleaned up the supplies you'd used, shoving them back into your first-aid kit with trembling hands. The adrenaline that had been coursing through your veins began to ebb, leaving behind a bone-deep weariness.

Slipping out of the bathroom, you found your room empty. The faint sounds of laughter drifting from down the hall told you your bridesmaids were headed up, blissfully unaware of the drama that had unfolded just steps away.

Undressing and stepping into your silken night gown, you crawled into bed and pulled the covers up tight, as the events of the night replaying in your mind like a fever dream.

Sleep, when it finally came, was filled with fragmented images of blood colored eyes, a dangerous smile, and the echo of a question that hung heavy in the air: what had you gotten yourself into?

[unmotivatedwrit3r]

Cloudy Christmastime

damian wayne x reader x jonathan kent

(A/N): Before anyone protests, I headcanon the Wayne family as celebrating both Jewish holidays like Yom Kippur and Hanukkah as well as Christmas and Easter because yes, Bruce is ethnically Jewish (though may have done Christmas as well) but Dick/Jason/Tim/Steph would have likely celebrated Christmas. So they do both.

Anyway, this is a christmas gift for @glorified-red and literally the 5th take on this fic bc they first said Hallmark movie, then damijon hallmark movie, then whump. And then it took me three tries to get something I was close to happy with so I hope you enjoy. This ended up being a mix of domestic fluff and h/c.

warnings: sensory overload

wc: ~2600

~~

“Tell me again why Santa doesn’t bring us gifts if he’s real. Like our dads have met him. And he still doesn’t bring us presents,” Jon lamented from the couch, bundled up in four blankets. 

From your spot on the floor by the tree, you looked up, an eyebrow raised in amusement. “Because we’re not kids anymore? And how do you know Santa ever brought us gifts?” 

“Perhaps,” Damian added, passing Jon a cup of hot chocolate. He placed a second cup on the coffee table and lifted one to his lips. “He only brought gifts to people to make a point. I never received any from him as a child but father has gotten many over the years.” 

Jon listed to the side, head landing on Damian’s shoulder. “I think that’s worse.”

For the first time in a while, Jon felt Damian’s huff of laughter more than he heard it. Your small chuckle was similarly inaudible. Jon hated solar flaring. Not only was it a pain to deal with for the day and change—one could argue he got either lucky or really unlucky by solar flaring the morning of Christmas Eve—but it always threw his senses out of whack as they trickled back in. And, with the gray skies of Gotham’s winter, Jon was expecting it to be even weirder than usual. It was worth it though, to him, in order to spend the day itself with his partners. It was enough that the Kent family Christmas Eve was ruined by Lex Luthor. He wasn’t going to let his Christmas day be ruined too. 

“I’m sorry, mi sol,” you offered with a shrug and a smile. Jon met your grin with his own. A full-body shiver wracked his frame. Your gaze turned concerned. “You okay?” 

“Yeah,” Jon agreed, “Just chilly.” Damian’s arm wrapped further around Jon, pulling their sides flush against each other. Jon maneuvered the blankets away to soak in his warmth. 

“Ameli, we can turn the heat up,” Damian offered. 

“Nope,” Jon argued, nuzzling into Damian’s neck. “This is good.” Damian’s resulting huff of air teased at the hair on the top of Jon’s head. 

“Mi luna?” You asked from the floor. Damian turned to look at you. Jon followed, eyes traveling over the mound of presents arranged under the tree. There was a pile around the back of the tree against the wall for Damian’s family (Jon still needed to give Dick his gift from the Hanukkah celebration a couple weeks ago. The blue dreidel paper was obvious against the sea of brown, red, and green wrapping paper.), and a smaller one for yours. The empty gap left behind after the Kent Christmas was already filled in with a large box Jon was like ninety percent sure was a new easel for Damian. You ordered it, not him, but Jon couldn’t think of anything else on any of your lists that was even close to that size. “Can you hand me that please?” You gestured to a precarious stack on the coffee table. 

Damian acquiesced, passing over a teetering pile of vaguely book-shaped items. Who those were for was anyone’s guess. Jon was grateful Alfred had helped you and him pay for some of the gifts for Damian. Looking at the gift tags, it otherwise would have been horribly uneven. And Damian himself wouldn’t have minded, Jon knew, but you and him would have been upset about it anyway. He deserves the world, your rohi. Damian pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of you, still arranging presents under the tree. He showed it quickly to Jon before texting it to him immediately. 

“This look okay?” You asked, peeking out from behind the tree. Jon looked it over. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for exactly, but he also wasn’t exactly the reigning opinion on artistic presentation. 

“It looks fine, hayati” Damian said, eyes still trained on his phone. You narrowed your eyes at him. 

“You didn't even look.” 

Damian turned to look at you. “Because I knew it looked fine, beloved.” His eyes scanned the presents. “And it does.” 

You shook your head at him, exasperated, before conceding and sitting heavily on the couch. Scooching in, you nearly pressed up against Jon’s other side. 

“Come closer,” He whined, untangling a hand from the blankets to grab yours. “You’re warm.” 

Jon could feel the look exchanged over his head. 

“I’m not that warm,” you argued even as you grabbed the TV remote from the coffee table and arranged the blankets so that you could fit underneath. “You’re just cold.” 

Jon shrugged. The hand that wasn’t holding yours reached underneath Damian’s shirt and he swore, grabbing Jon’s wrist to keep its chill away. Another look passed over Jon’s head. He wondered sometimes if the two of you were aware he knew what you were doing and just didn’t care. Probably. 

“Are you sure you’re okay, amorcito?” You asked. Jon shrugged. 

“It’s cold outside and I’m human but otherwise yeah. I have you two,” he added smugly. Damian’s playful shoulder hit came at the same time as your muttered “sap.” Jon grinned. “So because I’m sick—sort of—I get to pick the movie. And we’re watching Santa Claus is Coming to Town.” Despite the protests on both sides, the movie was playing before Damian could even get up to turn the lights off. To the side of the couch, the lights on the Christmas tree bathed the room in a soft white glow. 

~

Jon awoke to a cold bed. On a good day, he’d wake with the sun—or whenever it wormed its way through the bedroom’s black out curtains—or to an international emergency. Okay, not that the emergency was good, just that he was feeling good enough to know it was happening. On a bad day, all bets were off. Jon stuck his hand out of the covers, searching blindly for his phone. After a moment of finding nothing but the wood of the end table, the scratchiness of the sheets was unignorable and he gave up, flinging back the covers to get out of bed. Hanging over the side of the dresser was a dark red sweatshirt. Jon grabbed it and tugged it on, rubbing his arms to get the lingering echo of the sheets off his skin. His off kilter super hearing zeroed in on the crooning of Michael Bublé before zooming back out into the general background noise coming from the kitchen. Jon winced, squaring his shoulders. That was a bad sign. But it was Christmas; he’d be fine. 

A quick squint at his phone told Jon that it was just after noon. No wonder the bed was cold. Jon shivered, then grabbed a pair of your fuzzy socks before opening the bedroom door. 

The smell of cinnamon and chocolate coming from the kitchen was pleasant rather than unbearable. Jon let himself breathe it in as he approached quietly. He didn’t even notice you behind him—though that was often true of an average day—before there were arms around his waist and a head on his shoulder. He let himself lean back into the warmth of you. 

“Merry Christmas, mi amor. How are you feeling?” you inquired. Hot breath ghosted across his neck. Jon shrugged. 

“Fine. Excited for today.” He spun around to face you, eyes taking in your christmas pj pants and sweater with a Robin logo. Over your shoulder, Jon could see flashes of blue, likely Damian’s nightwing sweatshirt. “Merry Christmas,” he added, tucking his nose into the spot just underneath your ear for just a moment. No matter what his super senses were like, he took comfort in the smell of the two of you. A hand weaved through his hair, a kiss pressed to the top of his head. Jon pulled back just enough to give you a peck on the lips before being spun around into a kiss from Damian. 

“Merry Christmas, my heart,” Jon muttered, pressing a second lingering kiss to Damian’s jawline. A steady heartbeat pulsed under his fingers, wrapped around Damian’s wrist. 

“Good morning,” Damian said, wrapping an arm around Jon to keep him close. Jon blindly reached out and a second calloused hand found his. A second warm body curled around him. He missed your heartbeats’ song in his ears, but Damian’s pounding steadily under his ear and yours fluttering underneath his fingertips was good enough for right then. “Are you alright?” Damian continued. “It’s late.” His voice was echoey underneath Jon’s ear and Jon flinched instinctively. The two of you reacted immediately, pulling back. 

“Jon?” you asked, voice laced with concern. 

“Yeah,” he managed. “I’m mostly good. About as expected, you know?” Jon offered up a smile. By the looks on your faces, it didn’t do as much reassurance as he’d hoped. “I’m sorry I slept so late.” 

“Don’t apologize,” Damian argued. “There is no reason to.” 

“Yeah, I guess,” Jon sighed. 

“How are you feeling about breakfast, mi sol?” You asked, tangling your fingers with his. 

“Sounds good,” Jon agreed. 

~

“Oh yeah I should definitely send Dick a text to thank him. And also say Merry Christmas,” Jon said, flopping down on the couch after breakfast. With his partners looking happy, Christmas music in the background, and a breakfast of vegan pancakes in his stomach, Jon could almost forget about the buzzing under his skin. 

“Tt,” Damian scoffed. “He would have swapped with me anyway. Gordon and Father are both working tonight so it was pointless for him to have the evening off.”

Jon shrugged. “Still, doesn’t hurt to say thanks.” 

“Say hi from me too,” you yelled over the running kitchen sink. After a moment more, the water shut off and Jon released a silent sigh at the absence of an irritating bit of noise. He was lucky the x-ray vision hadn’t started acting up. Not only was that like the antithesis of Christmas presents (his mom kept presents out of the house or in a lead box until morning for that very reason), but it was also a huge pain and the hardest to hide. Screwy touch and hearing was more than enough. Dishware clanked around in the kitchen as Damian sat beside Jon on the couch. 

“No change?” He asked, reaching for a Nightwing mug of cider on the coffee table. 

Jon shrugged. “Nope, nothing yet.” Damian narrowed his eyes and Jon attempted to start coming up with excuses. At the very least, he could probably get Damian to leave it alone until after gifts. Less so if you noticed too and started teaming up on him. 

“Ready for presents?” You asked, sitting down on the other side of Damian. You raised the untouched Superman mug to your lips, eyes scanning over Jon. 

“Yes!” Jon butt in before you could say anything. “Let’s do it.” 

You and Damian exchanged a look. On the floor below, the elevator dinged, releasing a family with a horde of kids. “Okay,” you conceded, standing to grab the first load of presents.

In the apartment directly underneath, the front door squealed open. A load of presents was slammed down on the floor beside him. Three kids squealed “gramma!” in unison. Jon’s hoodie was all of the sudden suffocating him. 

Jon jumped up and yanked the sweatshirt over his head, pawing the sleeves off before yanking his socks off too. He didn’t care where they ended up. His hands went up to press against his ears. Stumbling over his own feet, Jon meandered backwards until his back slammed into a wall and then slid down, knees up and head with ears still covered in between them. Sounds zoomed in and out. All of the sudden, he could hear Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer playing eight floors down, then A Christmas Carol on someone’s TV across the street. Focus! Jon yelled at himself through all the noise. One steady beat came into focus, then another. 

Until there was a soft item brushing his feet, Jon didn’t realize he had company. A steady beat pulsed in his ears, too loud even for its familiarity. He pulled the blanket close. Something plastic nudged his shoulder and Jon grabbed it instinctively, slamming special-made headphones over his ears. The sounds faded down into something manageable. Jon took a deep breath. And then another. He didn’t need to hear to know that the two of you were there. When he reached out tentatively with his sense of smell, the usual wave of cinnamon-vanilla-brown sugar-clove and somethings just the two of you tempered by pine and peppermint was comforting rather than overwhelming. Jon let it wash over him, clutching the soft weighted blanket to his chest. 

When he cracked his eyes open, two blurs blinked into focus as his partners, leaning against the back of the couch and hands linked. Damian’s head rested on your shoulder, one of your hands tangled in his hair. Jon noticed as soon as Damian saw he was up. He almost slammed his head into your chin as he shot up and Jon huffed a laugh.  

“Ameli?” Damian asked. Your eyes locked onto Jon’s. 

“You guys shouldn’t sit on the floor,” Jon responded. “It’s bad for your backs.”

You offered Jon a hand, ignoring his remark completely. Jon’s chest ached. If you weren’t willing to banter, he’d scared you. “How are you feeling?”   

Jon took the hand and stood, adjusting the headphones so they stayed on his head. He tossed the blanket over his shoulder and reached his other hand out towards Damian before tugging the both of you up and towards the couch. 

“I’m okay,” Jon reassured you, sitting down on the couch. “I promise.” When neither of you moved, he tugged you both down on top of him, interrupting the bat-assessment written all over Damian’s face.  

“Promise like this morning?” Damian argued. Jon winced. 

“Okay, yeah maybe I shouldn’t have—”

“Been a self-sacrificial dumbass as if we don’t a) know you and b) want you to talk to us?” You cut in. Jon could read the hurt underneath the anger clear as day. His fingers brushed over two sets of knuckles, one scarred from years of fighting without protective gear, the other dry from the winter air. 

“I know. I just wanted today to be a good day, you know? We never get uninterrupted holidays.” Jon resisted the urge to pull his hands away from yours and curl into himself. The two burning gazes on him were ones of love and concern, though, not judgment. 

“And for some reason you think accommodating you makes the day worse, why?” Damian asked. Jon didn’t have an answer. 

“We love you, Jon. Eres nuestro pareja. We picked ‘partners’ for a reason, yeah?”  You squeezed his hand in yours. 

“Yeah,” he agreed, head dropping to your shoulder. Silence was heavy in the room for a moment. 

“You choose what we do next,” Damian stated, tugging the blacket from its bundled blob to instead cover you and Jon. 

Jon moved from your shoulder to halfway on top of Damian, tugging you on top of him. “You guys are going to squish me in between you while we watch a movie and then we can do presents?” 

You shot him a wicked smile. Jon shrieked as Damian pulled him bodily half on top of him along the couch, cut off when you landed nearly on top of Jon. 

“Good?” You asked. Jon let himself sink into Damian, arms coming up to wrap around your waist. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Good.”

Damian grabbed the remote. “We’re not watching Elf.”

Jon stuck his tongue out at him.