#Short inspirational Christmas greetings

[lizthewriter]

like snow on the beach / theodore nott

PAIRING  theodore nott x bubbly!fem!reader

SUMMARY  christmas is your absolute favorite time of the year! the tree, the lights, the music, the food . . . however, to you, the most important thing about christmas is spending it with your loved ones.

your world falls apart when you find out you can't go home for the holidays. you're stuck at hogwarts with a bunch of stuffy professors and zero loved ones. however, you make an unlikely friend who also happens to be stuck at hogwarts for the holidays . . . and you find out he despises christmas. you make it your mission to prove him wrong.

TAGS  theodore nott x bubbly!fem!reader, christmas, holiday cheer, the power of belief, reader loves christmas, this is soooo dash and lily coded, inspired by dash & lily's book of dares, grumpy!theodore nott, simp!theodore nott, i'm a slut for pathetic men 😩

QUOTE  "i've never seen someone so lit from within, / blurring out my periphery, / my smile is like i won a contest, / and to hide that would be so dishonest," - snow on the beach by taylor swift, featuring lana del rey

WORD COUNT  5.7K

WRITTEN  12.4.2023

You shoved your hands in your pockets - despite the fact that you were wearing gloves in this freezing weather, you could still feel the harsh wind nipping at your skin. Here you stood at Hogsmeade station, your friends boarding the train as you watched in discontent. They were all going home for the holidays this year, but you were going to be stuck at Hogwarts. No Christmas tree, no baking gingerbread cookies, no sipping on hot chocolate while snuggled in a warm blanket, no watching holiday movies. Just the freezing cold and your own company.

You plastered a grin on your face when the train began to move and waved to your friends. They bid you their last goodbye from their compartment window. Once the train disappeared from your sight, you trudged your way back up the path to Hogwarts. Well, the sight of the castle was beautiful, in the very least. You could see snow capping the towers and covering the shingles. But even then, it was just another reminder that you were here and not there, at home, with your family. There was only one thing to cheer you up.

-

"Afternoon Madame Pince," you greeted softly as you walked into the library. She sent you a stiff nod in return. While she didn't really like anyone in paticular, she was at least kinder to you than other students.

You knew exactly which books you wanted to cozy up with by a warm, crackling fire. Dashing across the library, you ammassed an entire stack of books, one that was tall enough to obstruct your vision. You waddled through another row, searching the shelves for one paticular title. Spotting it on a high shelf, you found a rolling stool and pushed it with your foot until it was directly under the book you seeked. You tried to place your pile of books somewhere, but it wouldn't fit on the sheleves and you couldn't plop them onto the floor without angering Pince. Stupidly, you decided to step up onto the stool, carrying the pile of books under one arm all while reaching for the desired book. Of course, you should have expected what came after.

You lost your balance, the books tumbling backward out of your arm, the weight of them pulling you down too. You fell off of the stool and expected your head to meet the bookcase behind you, but in your suprise felt someone catch you as your books loudly clattered to the ground.

It took you a moment to catch your breath, to let the adrenaline and fear run it's course before you turned towards your savior. He was tall, devilishly handsome, but with oddly dead eyes. He had an odd way about him - devastatingly beautiful, yet there was this aura of melancholy around him. It was unusually attractive.

"You all right?" He asked, his tone short and gruff.

"Yeah . . . sorry about that. Should've just put my books down somewhere, I suppose."

"What is all this noise?" Madame Pince's striking voice ring throughout the library, her footsteps approaching rapidly. Soon enough, she turned around the corner and let out the most horrified gasp, hand flying to her mouth. She glanced at the two of you with a dark, murderous glare. You suddenly became aware of the fact that his hands were on your shoulders and your back was resting against his chest. "You two! Out of the library at once! I will not have you diabolic teenagers destroying the sanctity of this library! Out! Out!"

She shooed the both of you out of the library and slammed the door in your faces. Now there you were, banned from the library, with no means of proper entertainment. Of course.

Bah humbug, you thought.

"Great," said the boy sarcastically. "As if I have anything else to do now." He sighed and turned around, bumping his head against the wall.

"I'm so sorry!" You squeaked, a blush rising to your cheeks.

"Don't be," he responded, turning back around. "It's not your fault."

Realization struck just then - you recognized him. "Wait . . . you're Theodore Nott, right?"

"You've been stalking me, have you?" His tone was always one of solemnity, so it really wasn't your fault that you couldn't tell he was joking.

"No, of course not, I've just seen you in a few of my classes is all," you responded, quite defensively, but mostly out of embarrassment. "You're in Malfoy's gagle of friends . . . shouldn't you be at home with your family?"

"Shouldn't you?" He returns swiftly.

"Point well taken," you respond with a grimace. He didn't respond and neither did you - what was there to say? You had never really had to interact with him, you weren't friends . . . yet you felt some sort of pull towards him. Like an invisible string that kept you hooked. He did save you from falling to possible death after all. "Well, you know, now that neither of us have anything to do, we could . . . I don't know, hang out or something?"

"Why?"

You arched a brow at him. "You got anything better to do?"

A flash of a smile flitted across his face. "Point well taken."

-

You were once again snuggled in a large coat, a knit hat atop your head and a large wool scarf pooling out of your jacket. Theodore's hands were shoved into the pockets of his thick, plaid trench coat. His hair billowed in the wind as the two of you wandered the ground, snow falling around you.

"So!" You jumped in front of him and began to walk backwards, keeping the same pace as before. "What is your absolute, favorite part about Christmas?"

Theo simply shrugged. "I don't have one." Your jaw almost dropped to the floor - how could he not have a favorite part about Christmas? Christmas, to you, represented love, family, and compassion. You loved everything about it: the tree, the lights, the music, the food, the presents. In fact, there wasn't one thing you could pick as your favorite because you adored all of Christmas too much.

Your shocked expression didn't seem to suprise Theodore in the slightest. "You don't have one?" You reiterated in disbelief, stopping. He jolted when you stopped walking, the two of you damn near as close as you were in the library. "But it's Christmas?" Theodore shrugged again. "You don't like Christmas?"

"No, truthfully . . . my family doesn't really do Christmas," he responded begrudgingly, glancing out at the Forbidden Forest as though he were disinterested. Really, he just didn't want to get into detail about his personal matters.

"Oh," you could only respond. Now that you thought of it, you could only imagine what Nott had to deal with at home, being a pureblood and all that. You knew that a lot of pureblood families were abusive and strict.

Suddenly, everything became clear. His family may not do Christmas, but you certainly do . . . you want him to feel the Christmas spirit that you do. Doesn't he deserve to understand exactly what the holidays are all about?

He tilted his head in curiosity as a grin spread across your rosy cheeks. Your eyes glittered with excitement and something akin to child-like wonder. "You know what? No. I'm going to prove to you that Christmas is the best time of the year."

Nott let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. He kicked at the snow, staring down at the ground as he shook his head. "I don't think you can."

"Do I hear Theodore Nott turning down a challenge?" You asked, cupping your ear with a mock judgemental expression. "Are you scared that I'm right, is that what it is?"

Nott sighed, biting back a grin as he finally met your eyes. "Fine. But I'm telling you now, it's not going to work."

"Oh, we'll see."

-

Theodore would be lying if he said he hasn't had his eye on you. How could he not? How could anyone not? You were quite literally the most outgoing person in your year. You were friends with mostly everyone, give a select few, and participated in many different student organizations. You were modest yet brash, kind yet firm, intelligent yet open-minded. You weren't afraid to speak your mind, even if it made you unpopular with certain crowds. He admired that about you.

So admittedly, the main reason he had gone to the library was in hopes that you'd be there. He's trying building up the courage to talk to you in the past, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it. Must be the reason why he's not a Gryffindor.

He felt an odd feeling in his chest when he saw you - as if he were so light he could float away, but also regurgitate his lunch all over the hundreds-year old carpet. He built himself up in his head and finally followed you into the rows of bookcases. When he saw you struggling with your pile of books, he froze, insecurities clouding his mind like a thunderstorm hurtling through his head. But when you were about to fall down, he instantly forgot whatever he had been thinking about and jumped to your rescue. Catching you, feeling you pressed against his chest, his nose burrowed in your sweet-smelling hair, he couldn't help but feel his heart beating incredibly fast and hard.

Finally, when the two of you were outside touring the grounds and you had so optimistically wanted to prove to him that Christmas was the best time of the year . . . he couldn't help but want you to prove him wrong.

That's why he was fussing over his hair as he stared in the bathroom mirror, tilting his head back and forth. It took him a whole ten minutes before he decided his hair would never comply and threw on his favorite plaid trench coat. You hadn't told him where the two of you were going, but he trusted that you weren't trying to pull anything funny.

You turned around as he exited the Slytherin dorm, the portrait slamming close behind him. He felt his stomach twist nervously as he looked at you - you were dressed rather festively, wearing a short green and red plaid skirt along with a mahogany turtleneck. Mini ornament earrings hung from your hears, gently bobbing as you turned to face him with an excited smile.

"Ready? Wonderful!" You exclaimed. "Come on, let's go!" He joined your side as you began walking at a brisk pace up the stairs. You lead him outside, chattering about holiday traditions you and your family had. He couldn't help but be enraptured by you - the way your eyes twinkled with joy and your hands gestured feverishly. Your bright rosy cheeks and how your scarf made them look plump and adorable.

"Oh, sorry, I've been rambling on so much you haven't even been able to get a word in!" You said, chuckling nervously, hoping that he wasn't annoyed with you.

"No, I like listening to you talk," he assured you pointedly. "Go on."

"But -"

"Honestly. I don't mind."

He could see your shoulder visibly sag with relief and you continued to explain to him as you walked down stone steps towards a small little hut next to the forest.

"What's that?" He asked you, gesturing to the hut.

"You'll see," you replied with a secretive smile. Once you were standing on the front steps of the house, the sound of a dog barking resonated from within. You knocked on the door with force, three times.

"I'm comin', I'm comin'!" A gruff voice responded from within. "Oi Fang, back! Get back, you mangy mutt!" Suddenly, the door swung open and Theodore was taken aback. Before him was a man towering at eight and half feet, a long, gangly beard running down his front, and a rather excited dog at his heel. "Ah right! You told me you were coming down today - and you've brought a friend I see!" The giant man turned towards Theodore with a friendly smile. "Rubeus Hagrid - I be the Groundskeeper. Ah! Don't want to keep you two out here in the cold - come, inside! Inside!"

He ushered the both of you into his hut, which was rather quaint. While Theo's eyes danced across the hut, you were already removing your coat and making yourself comfortable. His eyes fell upon a pine tree sitting in the corner, as well as a pile of boxes sitting next to it. He glanced back towards you and found you placing a kettle on the gas stove and setting out three teacups.

"I thought we'd start with one of my most favorite traditions - decorating the tree. Hagrid keeps a tree in his hut and he's asked me to help him decorate this year!"

"Them boxes over there are filled with ornaments!" Hagrid told them, gesturing to the boxes. Theodore noticed that the dog (Fang, he supposed it's name was) had approached you with a wagging tail and you had bent down to pepper kisses all over it's face. "I really appreciate youse two's help! Tha's why I made some of my famous rock cakes for ya to take back up wit' ya to the castle!"

"Thanks Hagrid, that's really nice of you!" Hagrid handed you a large, bulky package wrapped in a floral tablecloth. You placed it inside the bag you had brought with you. All the while Theodore watched as Hagrid slung some kind of bag around his shoulder and called Fang to join him by the door.

"O' course! Just remember to eat them while they're fresh!" He exclaimed with a chuckle. "Don' want 'em too hard. Ah, anyways, must get going. I've got to do my rounds about the grounds with Fang. You two young'uns have fun."

"Bye Hagrid!" You said as he closed the door behind him, offering a cheery wave. Once Hagrid left, you went back into the kitchen to remove the whistling kettle from the stove and pour the two of you some tea. "Here you go," you said slowly, more focused on not spilling the tea you were handing to Theo than what you were saying.

He took a sip of the tea, swallowed it, and then stared down at the yellowed water. You watched him in amusement, holding back your laughter. "You don't have to drink it if you don't like it."

He placed the cup back down on the table. "That is absolutely abominable," he told you with a sour look, pushing the cup towards you. You laughed, placing down your cup as well.

"It's not the most delicious thing I've ever tasted, but Hagrid found these incredibly rare plants in the forest with healing properties! So he's been using them for tea."

"How did you come about to be friends with the Groundskeeper, I wonder." Theodore pulled out one of the kitchen stools, rather large in comparison to himself. It wasn't easy to sit atop it, but in the end he triumphed over the chair.

You shrugged in response, taking another sip of your tea. "Well, Harry, Ron, and Hermione have known him for ages so they introduced me as well. People are kind of - I don't know - weird about him, but he's honestly lovely and gentle. He's not anything like he seems at first glance." Moving on from that topic, you clapped your hands together excitedly and ran over to the pile of ornament boxes. You separated and opened each and every box, displaying all the different ornaments. Theo approached, scrutinizing the glass balls with the tilt of his head.

"Some of these are . . . interesting, I must say." He grabbed an ornament of a brown bear and turned it around in his hand. You plucked the bear from his hand, placing it back in the box. In your other hand was a long string of tinsel.

"There are a few rules to decorating the tree," you started, walking backwards towards the mantle over the fireplace. You flipped on the radio, Celestina Warbeck's "Nothing Like a Holiday Spell," softly playing in the background. "First, you must listen to Christmas music. Second -" You held up the tinsel in your hand. "- you always do the lights and/or tinsel first. Okay? So, I'm going to need help wrapping this around the tree. I'll stand on one side and wrap it around my half, then I'll hand it to you so you can wrap around your half and you give it back to me, all right? Sound good?"

Theo nodded - this didn't seem too hard, nor unenjoyable. You didn't notice, too caught up in your jolly Christmas spirit to notice the way Nott was fondly watching you humming under your breath, tinsel trailing on the ground behind you as you stood on the opposite side of the tree. Standing on your tip-toes, you leaned up to wrap the tinsel around the top branch but struggled. When he noticed you were getting nothing out of your efforts, Theo walked behind you and grabbed the tinsel out of your hand. His chest was pressed against your back as he reached up with ease and wrapped the tinsel around the first branch.

You froze when he had come up behind you, a blush painting your cheeks. It wasn't your fault he had decided to come so close and that he was so damn attractive. You did your best to hide how flustered you suddenly felt, no matter how dimly veiled.

He didn't seem to notice, preoccupied with wrapping the tinsel around the top area of the tree that you were too short to reach. "Uh, thanks. Just, um, when you're wrapping the tinsel, make sure you don't wrap it too tight or too close to another row, okay?"

"I'll keep that in mind," he responded absent-mindedly, brows furrowed as he gave his task the upmost attention. He wanted to make the tree look perfect, just for you. He was trying to figure out how he should space the rows - as of now, are they too close together or too far apart? Maybe he should separate them a little.

"Don't think too much about it. It's not supposed to be perfect," you said, as though reading his thoughts. You grabbed the tinsel and began to wrap it around again. You handed it to Nott, who wrapped it around his side of the tree and handed it back to you. "It's supposed to look imperfect and wonky and unusual - that's what makes it your Christmas tree. Trying to make it look perfect takes all the fun out of it."

"So . . . the uniqueness is what makes it special?" he asked as he took the tinsel from you yet again. You were pretty special . . . unique. You stood out from your peers. Maybe that's why he was attracted to you - all his life, he was pushed for excellence. He was pushed to be perfect all the time and finding someone like you, so free-spirited and imperfect, well . . . he couldn't help but admire you.

"Yeah, exactly!" When you handed him the tinsel again, you said, "well, we're getting near the bottom. Just hand me the - yeah, the tinsel." You took the tinsel again and bent down as you wrapped it around the bottom of the tree. He followed you to the other side of the tree, preparing to finish the job once you passed the tinsel to him. "And I'll just finish this - oh!"

He hadn't realized you were planning on finishing the tinsel yourself and the two of you walked straight into each other. Your noses accidentally brushed together, your lips only centimeters away from his. You noticed an odd sort of glance in his eyes. It disappeared only a second later, but you were certain you saw it. A hunger, a longing. Like he wanted to kiss you.

"Sorry," he mumbled, not moving from where he was bending down.

"Yeah," you said breathlessly, quickly standing straight and clearing your throat. It must have been a flicker of light - there was no way the Theodore Nott liked someone like you. He was prim and proper, you were disorganized and eccentric. Not exactly a match made in heaven, especially in the eyes of his parents. "Sorry . . ."

-

You couldn't think clearly after that - all that was on your mind was a tall, quiet, brown-haired Slytherin boy who hated Christmas. But his especially those lips of his. Pink, full, just begging for a moment of your attention. Scenes in your mind played our what could have happened if either of you had made a move. Many ended with both of you in rather interesting positions.

Maybe it had just been you. Or maybe there was a spark there. You hoped, you dreamed, that he was feeling exactly how you were. You held onto this hope as you left your common room and rushed down the Grand Stairs to the Great Hall. You had another grand adventure in mind.

"What is on the roster for today?" Theodore had asked when you met him by the tall, oak doors of the Great Hall. The two of you set off towards the courtyard path.

"It's a suprise, silly!"

"Ah, suprises."

"What, you don't like suprises?"

"I didn't say that."

"How can you not like suprises?"

-

"If you don't mind me asking . . . why aren't you home for the holiday break?" Theodore asked as you slowly made your descent into Hogsmeade. He was kicking at the snow with his feet, secretly nervous. "You're not usually here."

"You've been stalking me, have you?" You replied with a wicked grin, remembering your first encounter. Theo flushed a bright red, his ears turning an especially poinsettia-like red. "I'm just joking." You sighed, your grin turning to a dismal frown. "Yeah, usually I'm at home for the holi's, but my parents are both away on buisness for work . . . so I had to stay here this year."

"You don't want to," he stated simply. You grimaced, shaking your head.

"Nope. I just want to sleep in my bed, my real bed, and wake up home on Christmas morning, surrounded by my family. But I'm stuck here." You sighed - talking about this didn't make you feel much better. You decided to brighten things up, sending a grin Theo's way. "At least I have you, Nott."

He stopped you. "Theo," he said, staring at you with those dark, alluring hazel eyes. "It's what all my friends call me," he added sheepishly.

The corners of your lips curled up, your heart fluttering like a fall leaf in the wind. "Theo," you repeated softly. "Well, Theo . . . perfect timing. We're here." You looked towards the shop on your right, the exterior wood painted a forest green with faded lettering. The window was frosted over, Hamilton depicting the festive scene inside. Warm fairy lights floated around the window, a variety of holiday-themed presents and objects on display not three inches from their eyes. "Holiday store. Perfect for getting gifts and getting in the holiday cheer."

"This was here all this time?" Theo asked.

You made a grand gesture towards the entire road you were standing upon. "I like to call this the Forgotten District. Great stores, but only the locals come here really. A fair few students know of it, but not many. Let's go inside."

You swung open the door, keeping it open with your foot as you entered so that Theo could enter right behind you. Though the ceilings were low and the room was so filled with whimsical trinkets and do-dads that it did feel a bit tight inside. "Hi Fred, how're you doing?"

"Good, good, and you?" Replied the man standing at the registers. He was a rosy-cheeked, middle-aged man with a round belly who looked rather friendly indeed. Almost like Saint Nicholas come to life.

"Great! This is my friend Theo! I'm introducing him to Christmas."

"Introducing him?" Fred responded in disbelief, looking towards Theo as though he were a puppy that had been ran over by a car. "My dear boy, you must have a look around. Take any one item you'd like with you, for free, I insist."

"Thank you, sir." As Theo gradually made his way into the shop, scrutinizing every little object, whether it was a spinning top or a rocking chair. You sent Fred a wide grin behind Theo's back, gesturing towards him with excitement. When Theo turned around, you stopped and quickly made your way to his side.

"Find anything eye-catching?" You asked, your exuberant mood quite obvious to all who could see you. You were grinning, watching Theo with that child-like wonder, standing on the balls of your feet while you took a good look at the place. You let out a gasp and grabbed a cute snowman mug. "Look at this! This is cute. You know, Mrs. Weasley would probably love this."

While you began to chatter on, grabbing various items and displaying them to him with starry-eyes, he couldn't help but watch with a sense of fondness. At some point, you realized he was staring at you oddly and paused. "What?" You asked with an awkward laugh, wiping your mouth with edge of your sleeve. "Is there something on my face?"

Unsure how to recover from having so blatantly worn his heart on his chest, looks away from you, his gaze void of any emotion now. "Nothing."

-

With each passing day, his fondness and adoration for you grew. You were so bright and exuberant, so careless in the way you bestowed that angelic smile of yours upon anyone. He felt honored, still, that he was a receptor of one.

You had begun to spend a lot of time together. Sneaking into the library and nabbing plenty of reading material, wandering about the castle and grounds, stealing food from the kitchens. However, whatever else you had planned to convince him that Christmas was indeed, gay with yuletide cheer, had not yet occurred.

You both were spread along couches by the fire in the Slytherin Common room, void of people except for the both of you. You laughed and talked until your lungs couldn't handle the action anymore - he was the first to fill the silence.

"My mother . . . she had loved Christmas," Theo said softly, his head still hanging off the couch. "As soon as November 1st came around, she would pull the decorations out of the cellar and start putting them up. Father insisted that she let the house elves do it, but she was firm in the belief that decorating was a holiday tradition that we should all celebrate together. It was her favorite time of year."

His tone sounded almost . . . sad. You pushed yourself onto your elbows and watched him. His eyes were just glazed over, water bubbling at the edges of his vision. "Your mother -"

"She's dead," he said in an empty tone of voice. Suddenly, as though realizing himself, he wiped his eyes and sat up. "Sorry, I don't really talk about that with anyone. I shouldn't have -"

"No, no, it's okay," you assured him with a kind smile. "I don't mind. Tell me more about your mom, she sounds really cool."

He hesitated, fidgeting with his fingers, before he ran his hand through his hair and leaned back on the couch. "One year when I was a young boy, she got me Fiabe italiane a cara di Italo Calvino for Christmas, or Italian Folklores by Italo Calvino. She would read it to me every night. After my mother . . . died, my father tried to erase everything that reminded him of her. Including that book."

"Oh no," you whispered, a hand hovering over your mouth.

He gave you a grimaced smile. "Yeah, but it's been so many years . . . I don't really care that much anymore, it's not a big deal."

To you, however, it seemed like a very big deal.

-

On Christmas morning, you woke up extra early and gathered your presents. You knew you looked ridiculous - hair frizzy and wild, still dressed in pajamas, presents flying in the air behind you. Finally, you entered the Slytherin common room and clambered up the stairs to the boy's dormitory, finding Theo's room.

Your pounding upon the door startled him awake and he practically ran to the door to yell at whoever decided to wake him at this ungodly hour. Instead, he found someone he didn't expect to be there at all - you.

"Merry Christmas Theo!" You shouted in excitement, throwing your arms around his neck. In your fervor, your focus was drawn away from the hovering presents and they soon clattered to the floor. He swung an arm around you, envolping himself in you, but you pulled away too soon to look back at your presents. "Oops."

"Merry Christmas," he responded, quite late due to the fact thatft he had just woken up. He opened the door wide so you could enter, and you sauntered inside with your presents hovering behind you once more. You say down on the floor, placing your presents gracefully down in front of you. He closed the door and turned to see you watching him expectantly.

He hadn't opened presents with anyone before, at least, not since his mother was alive. He had thought at first that he would be upset, you falling into his life and pushing him back into the world of Christmas . . . but he found that he actually enjoyed your company. More than he liked to admit. "Do you . . . want to open presents together?"

You flashed him a toothy grin. "Why else did you think I came over here, silly? Come on!" You patted the ground in front of you.

He shuffled over, gathering the small cluster of presents by his bed next to yours, and seating himself on the ground. "You go first."

"All right then." You grabbed an oddly-shaped parcel that looked like a lump of under-cooked bread. You unwrapped it with care, making sure not to tear the packaging. You pulled out a forest green sweater with the initial of your name and a container filled with mince pies. "It's from Mrs. Weasley! She knits sweaters every year for all her kids and their friends." You raised it to your nose with a content sigh. "Smells like her cooking too. All right, now you go on!"

Theod can't remember the last time he had recieved a homeade present, from someone so kind and motherly. He pulled a neatly-wrapped parcel towards him and unwrapped it, revealing a set of books he'd been wanting for a while. From Blaise. Don't go reading it all at once :)

"See? Opening presents can be fun!" The two of you continued to unwrap presents, chatting about what you had gotten. Finally, a wrapped present sat in front of you - both of you stared at it.

"You're not going to open it?" Theo asked. You shook your head with a knowing smile, pushing it towards him bashfully.

"Actually . . . it's for you," you said slowly with a nod of your head. Nervously, you glanced at him, trying to read his expression. He looked rather . . . confused.

"You didn't have to get me anything," he said, pulling the present into his lap. He stared down at it stubbornly, because he felt too guilty accepting a present from you.

"Oh go on, open it!" You encouraged, nudging him. He couldn't help but smile at your excitement, nothing the way you fidgeting in anticipation.

"All right, all right," he responded, raising his hands in mock defense. He untied the ribbon and gently unwrapped the present, making sure not to tear the paper. He froze once he saw what was sitting in his lap, staring up at him.

You watched him with trepidation. You didn't go to far, did you? You hoped that - well, you weren't sure what you hoped, but you wanted him to treasure the gift. You wanted him to say something, but didn't dare question him. You were afraid of his reaction.

"Fiabe italiane," he spoke softly, running his fingers along the spine of the book. It didn't have the weathered grooves his mother's copy had, but it felt like home. He turned towards you with an expression of disbelief. "How - you didn't have too -"

You offered a sheepsih shrug. "I wanted too. You sounded so . . . happy when you talked about your mother. But also sad, so I thought this might cheer you up. Brighten up Christmas a bit."

Theo kept staring at you with an odd expression - you weren't sure what to expect from him. You certainly didn't expect his lips to smash against yours, resting his hand on your thigh. The suddenness of the kiss left you in shock, unable to move. He took this as a sign that you were uncomfortable and unreceptive. But, as soon as he pulled away, you grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pressed a kiss to his lips, soft and tender. You couldn't help but smile as you pulled away and you noticed that his eyes had lost that melancholic darkness and was instead replaced with something much more merry.

"I think I'm starting to like Christmas."

You giggled, bringing a wide grin to his usually stoic face. "C'mere," you said, pulling him into a cuddle. "As long as I'm here, I will make sure that every Christmas you have is filled with love and comfort. All right?"

He glanced up from where you had buried his face in your shoulder. "You're amazing, you know that?" He asked, starry-eyed.

You offered a mock uncaring shrug. "I know." You were both silent before you burst out into laughter. "I'm not." As Theo started to protest, you interrupted him. "No really! I'm not, I'm just showing you what a caring relationship is like."

"I still think you're amazing." He paused. "I'm glad we ran into each other."

You glanced down at him and brushed the hair out his face, pecking him on the nose. "Me too."

[shuenkio]

Juno | Lhs.

Paring: Heeseung X M!reader | Genre: Fluff.

Synopsis: Thought he'd be disgusted by your love letter however who knows what he actually feels toward you? When your friend accidentally puts that for fun note in your gift that you're about to give him?

Cw: Nothing.

Non proof read | Eng is not my 1st lang.

This is a work of fanfiction, do not throw unnecessary tantrums on this nsfw/sfw blog. ©Shuenkio

A@N: Christmas's laterally 3 more months away but who cares, I wanna make a change 💪 plus Juno are on repeating, so why not make an inspiration fic about it?

The Earth's spinning, people are living their lives in their own way, especially with their loved ones. You wonder, to the point of this age, should you just grow old as an old bachelor or find someone? Well, looking at yourself in the mirror already answers all your questions; you find yourself didn't match your satisfaction.

Insecure about your look wasn't enough; another thing is you've been hopeless romantic all of your life. Deep down, you wanted to have someone stay by your side, holding your hand while looking at the sky when it's sunset, cuddle when it's rain, compliment all the sweet things you've ever needed every day, and last but not least, you wanted someone to love you.

It's a silly daydreaming; however, every single day you can't go a day without thinking about anyone randomly popping out, riding their white horse, kneeling in front of you, and asking you, Would you be their partner? That's kind of crazy. Ever since then, brushed it all off as if it's nothing.

Continue to work hard for your bill in this messy industry. Surprisingly, God always has his own plan; he won't let you die alone... Right? Apparently, there's someone just moving in next to your apartment, and it's a man. Oh my. No, you can't be thrill just because he's a man; M/N, behave yourself.

That's how thirsty you are; later on, you thought you're the problem and started to behave yourself to be less attracted to a stranger, especially a man. On one holiday night, while back from work as you were unlocking your door, it was a coincidence when the new guy came out at the same time. Both of you never get the chance to greet each other because you're such workaholics. He greets you with a warm smile on his face, offering a handshake, as you hesitated to but still did.

He then introduces himself as 'Heeseung' called 'Evan' for short. He also said he never gets the opportunity to meet someone, mostly who are his neighbors since they are always out of the house just like you. For now, Evan wanted to invite you for a coffee. Oh. Spare a glance at his towering figure up and down; you realize he's positive; no bad energy from him; yes, you happily agree. A day turns into a week, a week turns into a month.

Trying all your hardest not to fall in love with Evan, who likes to do all those weird gestures that make your stomach fill with butterflies every damn time. Maybe you lack affection, sort of. He looks cool, is an ACE in everything, at least he can cook ramen, is a green flag in your perspective, is gentle and respectful of the boundaries, but one thing that made you stop midway was he can't be gay.

Evan is probably a straight guy that you mistake with his clingy behavior. Sigh, a lesson of life learned as a homosexual person. It's not right to force him to like you back, isn't it? Not even right to confess your true heart when he's so straight code, or he's not? Or is it worth pouring away all the heavy weight in your chest? The TV play in the living room, an announcement that today is going to be snow on this special day too, a Christmas day.

Brainstorming to seek out his favorite thing as you pop out an idea by gifting him a logo set; he loves it too much you couldn't understand why. As you were preparing the gift with all your friends together in a room before going out to celebrate in the city, you suddenly wanted to write a confession note for fun—write everything that had been living in your heart for a long time that has been hurting—a poem, to be honest, well, a little freaky, because you know you'd throw them away anyway.

"You make me want to make me fall in love."

"Wanted you to adore me back, hold me like you always did, and always joke, telling me I'm your only friend."

"Sorry, I like you, but I can't help it."  "Liking you was the best experience in my life, and I hope for nothing but still us to be friends."

Out of the blue, coincidentally, once you finish the note, your friend happens to pull you for a group photo. While you were busy posing, one of your other friends had nothing to do, so they went to wrap all the gifts of all of them. Usually, at every Christmas festival, they are in charge of who does the wrapping. The group united is over; after they're all stepping foot in the city, they've all vanished. Holding your gift like a lost child, looking at the crowd of people who's busy with their own business.

The snow keeps falling down from the blurry sky nonstop, so cold yet it fits the vibe you were going for. Snuggle your hands inside of your pocket; you leave the scenes as you drag your feet to somewhere quiet, your favorite park that used to be lively but now it's a field of snow. Taking a hot breath under the cold temperature, a shadow cast towering upon you, looking up to see, it was actually your greatest neighbors, Evan.

"What are you doing here, Fox?"

"Me? Oh, just chilling; I don't like crowds anyway." response, the tip of your nose turns pink, which makes Evan find it adorable.

"Why? It's Christmas; you should go enjoy yourself!" Taking about Christmas alarms your mind; you take out the wrapped gift and hand it to him. He caught off guard to the gift you have for him. Everyone would give him gifts during this festival; never make him flinch but you, a different story.

"Ugh, don't get the wrong idea; you're my neighbors after all; neighbors gift neighbors, isn't that normal? Take it, unbox it," take a hold of his palm, and give him the gift while waiting patiently for his expression. Hearing you say those, he did as told. Unveil all the tie, tearing all of the paper. Evan sees a cartoon Lego set inside with a small scratchy note that is about to be trash. The corner of Evan's lip, tight into a cocky smile as he takes out the small note, and hands up to the light street nearby. Maybe he didn't laugh at the Lego set but something else.

Seeing a note that you did not put in there and a confession note too, your eye wide open. The heart inside of your chest is pounding and racing far from the beat. You were nervous and panicking. How can it flow in there? Oh, wait, don't tell your friend to put it in there; naur, screw you. Quickly get up from your seat. I wanted to grab that note away; however, who are you kidding, he was 180 cm while you? A tiny little person.

"Evan, give that back; it's not; it's not the right note. My friend mistakenly put them there. DON'T READ IT." jumping up and down, up and down to snatch the piece of paper away, which is no use. All you got was to exhaust yourself.

"Oh, let me see, hmm, mistaken? But I see your name under here from me, M-N. How is that a mistake?" Realizing Evan already read it, you stop there frozen; the outcome would be something you are not going to like. Same goes for Evan too. You thought he'd be all serious and disgusted by your love note yet replaced by giggles. Um what?

"You, M/N, why have you not told me sooner?"

"Because... You look straight, i guess. Sorry to assume, but you did look like it."

"Oh, come on, why should I be straight when you're alive?"

"I beg pardon??"

"The word 'I like you' is out trending, so I'd say I. Adore. You, my M/N. My gift for you is

'i love you too'

🗣️ please mind my English! ><

🗣️ Crd to all the room rightful owner: [divider Alanitalenia]

🗣️ ps: I was dead ass sick writing this, but still cooked anyway 🫂.

[trashmouth-richie]

the boy is mine // ziggy’s version ♡

@carolmunson prompt

♡firstly, i’m so excited about this, for the unification this could have for all of us fandom wide— hopefully there are more ideas like this in the future 💕

tw: depictions of hard times, established relationship, blue collar (?) vibes, money troubles, but you’re in love so it’s a non issue. fluffy, illusions to smut but nothing mentioned.

1.3k

the scene: a romantic night in at the trailer.

props included/mentioned (in passing or can hold bigger meaning): a throw pillow, vanilla frosting, a small notebook.

dialogue included (can be manipulated slightly if needed, can be placed in any order):- "i ran out of like, nice cups, is this okay?" - "aw, don't be like that. that's not even true."- "and you like that?"- "if you don't stop, we're gonna have a problem."

Birthdays.

Something rarely celebrated between the two of you. Even though you both agree every year would be different, every new year’s resolution—sworn to do it, but always falling short.

Until this year.

It wasn’t a pony or a working television, and still with the daily struggle of bills piling up and work slowing down— Eddie promised himself, your day would be special.

He dipped into the ‘broken window’ fund— started when some little shits tossed rocks at the “freak’s house”. It consisted of an empty pickle jar that lived in the same dark bottom cabinet holding the potatoes.

Just a few bucks, that’s all he would need until payday on friday.

The shopping basket was nearly pathetic looking as he scoured aisles for a special treat, realizing he had come up short when he needed an extra few bucks for gas.

Putting back the cake mix, the card, and a pack of twizzlers—Eddie left the store with a single can of vanilla frosting, the off brand kind.

He rushed home, hoping to still have enough time to beat you there before your shift ended at work.

Scrounging for the small notebook you got him for christmas, he flipped through the pages filled with past conversations about the pros and cons of leaving the trailer park, a forgotten list for groceries, and an even shorter list of bills that could be pushed back a few days.

He finally finds a clean sheet, clear of pen marks and gets to work. His hands flew with D&D esque inspired calligraphy, scrawling “happy birthday baby!” with a tiny jagged heart at the bottom with his initials.

A car door slams on creaky hinges and he knew you were home before even hearing your soft footsteps on the worn concrete— giving him only seconds to do a quick sniff of his pits and rake through his hair with his fingers— rings getting stuck along the way.

Your keys jingle on your finger as you lug your purse by its strap, nearly to the ground like you were walking a dog on a leash.

“There she is,”

The same cheesy charmer line he had greeted you with since you were teens meeting between classes by your locker, faces wedged almost as one to kiss as much as you could before being late. Hormones on fire.

Eddie ‘benjamin button’ Munson aged backwards, you were sure of it. Where you looked exhausted at any given hour, Eddie's puppy dog eyes grew bigger every day, not a single wrinkle on his cherub face.

“Hey babe,” you yawned with a hand covering your mouth, “did’y have a good day?”

His smile, all dimples and porcelain teeth stretched a mile wide along with his arms as you walked into them, pressing your cheek to the middle of his chest, arms slung lazy on his hips.

“Always a good day babe, never bad. And..someone, not sure who, has a birthday.”

Lifting your head his chin is dipped to you, “someone doesn’t like their birthday, Eddie— it’s a waste.”

You never had, it was never happy before Eddie— stemming from divorced parents fighting about which one should pick up the cake, and who was buying the gifts because ‘I did it last year’ which ultimately dissolved into you telling them not to worry about it because it was just another day.

“Aw don’t be like that,” Eddie frowns, “that’s not even true.”

You grumble into his shirt tossing your head further into him inhaling his scent. He kisses your hairline and strokes your back before working to remove your coat.

“Five years we’ve been together, it’s time we celebrate shit, sweetheart.”

Mumbling a drawn out ‘fiiine’ into him he tips your chin, with a curl of his forefinger, a little smirk on his lips.

“You’re really cute when you pout y’know it?”

“and you like that?”

His lips slot against yours, and you hum with content, “oh darlin’” he says with a fake southern drawl, “I love it.”

-

The tub was filled with the warmest temperature the water heater would allow— which wasn’t a lot, but still, it felt nice on your sore muscles from your shift at the same plant both Eddie and Wayne worked at, opposite shifts from you.

Eddie’s rings clacked on the plastic edge as he slid his long legs around yours into the water, sitting on the other end of the tub. He had helped you undress, hanging your coat on the back of a chair, giving you the beautiful homemade card that made tears spring to your eyes.

He followed behind you into the bathroom, running the water and putting the drain stopper into the drain before he ran back out to the kitchen returning with arms filled with stuff that he kept hidden from you until you were comfortably sitting in the cramped bathtub.

He plugged in an emerald strand of colorful christmas lights that you didn’t even know you had. It filled the cluttered countertop, weaving around the bar of soap and kitchen cup designated for holding your toothbrushes, lighting the bathroom in a cozy Christmas ambience… in April.

“We ran out of like, nice cups— is this okay?” He asked before pouring a can of Busch light into two red cups that were nabbed from Benny’s before it shut down.

Scrunching your face you move your arms from the depths of the water to reach out for his extended offering of warm beer, “when have we ever had nice cups?”

He laughed shrugging, “yeah, you’re right.”

Sitting square in front of you, long legs bent and wide open, Eddie holds up his cup in a cheers, “to you, my love, my sweet beautiful hotter than hell girl who for some reason fell for my charm, happy birthday.”

Clinking a his cup with yours you both smile before taking a swig of the cheap warm beer.

“mm, that’s nice.. what year?” you tease, never even having wine in your life.

He plays along like he always does, swirling the cup and putting the tip of his nose to the rim, “ah yes, a refined 1989 I believe— a good year for Busch I've heard.”

You both laugh until your sides ache. This is why you adored him, making a normal day special by just being him—corny, cheesy, poor— and you had never been happier.

“Oh, wait!” he exclaimed, reaching out of the tub, ribs stretching taunt against his skin, soap sliding down them.

He grabs a lighter from the counter and opens the tub of frosting. Brandishing a white waxed candle tucked behind his ear with the flair of a magician, he plants it in the center before lighting the wick and sitting down roughly in the tub, water splashing onto the floor.

The flame lit up his features, his tongue poked out in concentration, the yellow light filling his dark pudding eyes with a boyish glee, and then they met yours.

“Should I sing?”

You shake your head, happy tears stinging your eyes, “no, this is perfect,”

“Well make a wish.”

You close your eyes tight not knowing what to wish for because all you’ve ever wanted is right in front of you. Blowing out the candle you lean forward and kiss him square on the mouth, hard and deep.

The beer tipped into the tub and was long forgotten as your lips worked down his neck, wet strands of hair curled around, his arms pulling you in, making you sit on his naked lap, the frosting birthday cake sitting on the floor.

You kiss for awhile, your chest pressed into his, his hands squeezing your ass, the heel of his foot knocking the plug from the drain.

“If you don’t stop,” you mutter between kisses, “we’re gonna have a problem.”

Eddie smirks, dimples poking out, stroking your cheek thumb sweeping your swollen bit lip, “throw pillow is already on the bed, besides, I’m not afraid of a little trouble baby.”

[haizficz]

Billie Bossa Nova

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Kate Bishop x Fem Reader

Summary: you and your girlfriend are at a christmas party and your short dress leads to more for the first time.

Warnings: touchy and teasing Kate; shy but not so shy reader, veeery fluffy smut-//[your first time with the love of your life]; this is so much fluff omg

words: 1.6k

a/n: soooo, this is so different to what i usually write, but i´m reaaaaally proud of it. this fic is inspired by one of my fav songs "billie bossa nova" by billie eilish. this turned out really hot, so enjoyy:)

if you want more fics like this, let me know <3

--requests are open

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It was the day before Christmas Eve, Kate was already on her way to your house. Eleanor, her mother organized again a Christmas party like last year. Only this time, guns, arrows and the mafia don't play a role.

Right now you were in the bathroom putting on your makeup and dress. It was a red, fitted dress that was quite short, which really showed off your body. Kate loved it when you wore dresses like this. You notice it how she stares at you and how she always has her hand around your waist, showing that you are completely hers. That's why you loved wearing dresses just like that. On the other hand with your dress, you made your makeup pretty natural. Mascara, lip gloss and a bit of highliter made it perfect. You stayed away from the blush because you'll be blushing enough when Kate is with you.

Just as you were about to close your dress, your phone started ringing. It was Kate who called. She`d probably already arrived at your home and was waiting for you in her car. When you picked up you told her to come to you, which she did as quickly as possible because after a minute the doorbell already rang. You couldn't help but grin, put your phone aside and opened the door. Here stood Kate in her black, perfect-looking suit. She smiled at you, which made your stomach flip. You looked into her eyes as she looked at your body. After that minute you couldn't take it any longer and kissed her soft lips. Kate's hands moved up to your back and so she noticed that your dress wasn't closed yet. "I mean, should I zip it up or take the entire dress off?" You laughed at her words and slapped her jokingly on her upper arm. "Close it, you idiot."

After one or two small conversations you were on your way to Kate's car. She opened the door for you and put on your favorite playlist as soon as she started the engine. During the car ride, Kate would occasionally rest her hand on your thigh, sometimes quite dangerously high, according to your taste.

One hour later, when Kate parked the car and removed the hand that had been laying on your thigh for a while, you felt a certain feeling. You couldn't identify it, but you knew you were hungry for Kate's touch, more than you actually are. Why though?

As you both left the car and made your way to the building, you felt the cold winter air. You tried not to shiver, but you didn't succeed at all, and Kate noticed straight away how cold you were. She stopped walking and took off her blazer, you looked at her and started smiling. The moment Kate placed her blazer on your shoulders and you could smell her strong perfume, she reminded you, "I told you to wear something warmer." You started giggling and snuggled closer to your girlfriend as you continued walking toward the building. It was a further walk as Kate didn't park very close to the location. Maybe on purpose too.

When you arrived inside you met Eleanor and greeted her friendly. She invited you to dinner, so the three of you sat down at a table. After a while Jack also came to the table and you all had a not so bad conversation. Until you suddenly felt a warm hand on your thigh again. You stared at Kate, who wasn't even looking at you. She talked with her mother about her new bow and arrow. But when Kate lightly stroked your skin with her thumb, you started to blush and the same feeling you had in the car came back. You felt the need to kiss Kate, to touch her and you wanted to feel her hand all over your body. You were so deep in thought and felt this feeling more and more. The need also grew stronger. This was completely new to you, but you liked it. Time passed more and more slowly and the only thing you wanted at that moment was to be alone with Kate. The only thing you wanted was her.

You put your hand on Kate's and enjoyed the rest of the time, but you couldn't concentrate well on the conversations and the food anymore. An hour has passed, but it felt much longer. When Eleanor and Jack finally left you alone, the first thing you did was kiss Kate. She was surprised, which made her smile into the kiss. Your hand went to her neck and you started playing with her baby hair. Kate's hand moved from your thigh to your hip, pulling you closer to her. This step drove you crazy and Kate had to break the kiss to say something. "Wanna go to a more private room? I don't want that anybody else sees you naked except for me." Your giggle made Kate blush and took your hand. You paid for your meal and made your way to the hotel next door, where Eleanor had already reserved a room for the both of you.

Giggling, you opened the door to your room and the second you both stepped inside, the door was again already closed. Kate reached for the back of your dress and began to undo it. Immediately afterwards you took Kate's tie in your hand and pulled her closer to you. You began to kiss, slowly and pleasurably. In that moment Kate tried to unbutton her shirt, you couldn´t hold back your laugh, broke the kiss and helped her. After you shared a few giggles Kate met your lips before you even had a chance to move away from her.

These times, it was different when you kissed as usual. There was something relaxed about it, eventhough you could feel the hunger you both had. You sat at the edge of the bed, kissing, but a certain urgency came when Kate reached for the back of your bra. She finally got it off, moved her hands to your breasts and gently pushed you down. You scooted back, under the covers and Kate climbed on top of you. She started staring at your eyes while you softly move your hands up and down her back. You held an intense eyecontact and your heart was beating so fast. "You´re so beautiful, y/n." Kate noticed your right now creating blush and smiled at you. "I love you", you answered and pulled her head with your hands to yours. Your lips collapsed together and Kate´s hands touched your whole body. She started to kiss every part of your face, you gripped your hands tightly in her black hair, as she ran her hands again down your body. Kate kissed your neck and you let out a sigh. She kissed each of your collar bones, she kissed each breast as she stroked them.

Her touch was so careful and soft, that it felt like heaven. Her warm hands all over your body, and you could feel her hot breaths against your skin.

Kate continued kissing you, she kissed your arms, your palms, and each delicate finger that were lost in her hair just a moment ago. She found your stomach and kissed it from each rib cage to the next, her hands met your waist and the final piece of clothing left between you two. Kate began to pull it off, looked up as if to ask you, you let out a yes, so she took them off, as well as her own, and went back to kissing you.

You let out a sigh of delight as her lips touched places only her hands earlier dared to go, she kept going down, she kissed the inside of your legs, no part of your body was left without the kiss of your girlfriend`s perfect and soft lips.

When she came back up and met your eyes once more, you grabbed her neck and kissed her. Kissing Kate must be more than just an obsession, she makes a really strong impression. She kept her hands buried in your hair and you began to run your hands down her spine. You were a pianist, and Kate´s back was your piano, each bone of her spine were your keys, and you played all of them.

You returned your hands to her neck and hooked your legs around Kate´s knees and she collapsed on top of you, you used this chance to get her on her back. You sat on top of her, leaned down and whispered into Kate´s ear. "Now it´s my turn, archer." Kate couldn´t help but smirk at your actions. "Smooth, y/l/n." You giggled and kissed her happily before you laid down on top of her, rocking your bodies together as you ran your hands down Kate´s body. You didn´t really knew what you were doing, but you knew Kate liked it, so you didn´t stop.

Kate held her hands on your back, pulling you into her body as much as she could, it mattered not that you had no clothes on. It mattered not that you were as pressed into each other as you could be. You still didn’t feel close enough.

You eventually met Kate´s side and you kissed each other gently, stroking each other´s hair.

She held you as close as possible and you had never felt so comfortable as you did in that moment. "I think I´ll wear a short dress tomorrow." Kate started laughing hard as you said your joke, where hopefully be some truth behind it.

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@hard-core-super-star <3

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[insomniumstella]

unfinished business (2) | bucky x avenger!reader

summary: Steve’s silly joke happened to inspire the best, or possibly the worst, idea Wanda had ever come up with — send James Buchanan Barnes and y/n on an all-expenses-paid honeymoon in Hawaii. the problem? they cannot stand to be around each other.

warnings: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, explicit language, alcohol consumption, sarcastic!bucky

word count: 3,230

taglist is down below (please let me know if you want to be added or removed from the list!)

WHERE DREAMS GO TO DIE masterlist

series’ SPOTIFY playlist

A brooding figure loomed over the table, and, judging by the sharp scent of woody cologne, it was not the waiter.

The sun had disappeared from the broad horizon, leaving the restaurant basking in the soft glow of lanterns and candlelight. Dreamy jazz sounds saturated the space, which was simultaneously open and closed. Despite the lousy name, Toro Toro was a spectacular overwater establishment — a long wooden dock led to an intimate setting with limited tables and a narrow but elegant bar. It was situated only a short walk away from the common areas of the hotel, possessing the pleasure of undisturbed peace as the restaurant imposed a strict adults-only policy.

“The menu’s full of oysters, caviar, shrimp with garlic butter?” Her sentence warped into a question as she read through the entrees before glancing at James through the top of the menu. “Delicious, but might be dangerous for a man pushing a hundred and ten.”

“A hundred and seven.” James scanned y/n’s exposed chest, eyes raking over the silk dress and Louboutin heels.

The man wouldn’t describe the attire as a pleasant change, that he’d die before admitting, but it was a change. The black satin shirt Steve had convinced him to pack matched the color of her clothing, and they, to anyone who knew any better, horrifically resembled a couple. A massive diamond ring rested on y/n’s fourth finger from when Tony had gifted it to her for Christmas, solidifying her as Bucky’s pretend wife. 

The table bore two bottles of Cabernet Sauvignon, one empty and the other on its way there. She must’ve been sitting at the table alone for the last half hour, nibbling at bread and cheese without ordering. If James knew y/n, and in some of the worst ways he did, he’d guess she had established a sob story of a fourth wedding anniversary and a missing husband.

He’d be right.

“I’ve heard oysters are an aphrodisiac, so that’s a no,” she placed the menu down, staring at James as he sat down, “why are you here?” 

It was the burning question of the hour. Why did James Buchanan Barnes decide upon a dinner with her? 

“I was in desperate need of an evening with you, and it is our wedding anniversary,” he nodded at the waiter, who approached the table to bring more bread, “also, I was hungry, and nothing at the buffet seemed appetizing.”

To say that nothing at the buffet seemed remotely delicious would be an understatement. The Shack was holding a Mexican night, and as much as James had fallen in love with nachos over the years sharp salsas he couldn’t yet stomach. Mexican dishes had consistently been more of a punishment than a pleasure for the soldier. A rendezvous with y/n could never compare to his intolerance for spicy foods. Besides, James had no desire for mediocre pizza at the 24/7 lounge.

She cocked her head to the side, amused. “Jordan!” The woman called after the boy. “Could you bring us champagne? Oh, and more butter, please.” She flashed him an innocent smile, gazing at him through hooded eyes.

Besides the hostess, Jordan the waiter was the first to greet y/n at Toro Toro. He had been as flirtatious as he had been awkward, but he was also great at conversation, even sitting down with y/n when she had, less than honestly, admitted that her husband would not be joining her. He had brought her an off-menu appetizer, inviting y/n to a staff party later that week as condolence.

“I see you made a friend.” James spread a generous amount of butter on a piece of bread. 

“I did! He’s a Maui local and works at the resort for good tips, hot chicks, and free booze.” The explanation earned a baffled look from James. “Jordan’s words, not mine.” She graced his empty glass with the leftover cabernet and shook her head in disbelief. “I cannot believe I had to sit through exhausting monologues of villains on vacations and catch me if you can, but please don’t for nothing.” James couldn’t figure out the latter reference.

“Did it excite you?”

“Yes.” She poured herself a glass of champagne when Jordan placed an opened bottle and hurriedly disappeared. “All that foreplay, and you still showed up.”

James grinned crookedly, staring into her eyes — for a split second, his walls crumbled, allowing her to witness an honest man who was truly amused by her joke. Except it was over before she could say anything, and James averted his gaze, picking up the menu. She is not funny. 

“Oysters are the last thing I’d imagine to an aphrodisiac,” he commented, eyes locked on the piece of paper resting in his hands. 

“Giacomo Casanova reportedly ate heaps of them for breakfast,” she drained half her glass, “learned it at Pepper’s fun fact Friday,” she explained, referring to Pepper’s infatuation with acquiring seemingly the most peculiar of information. 

Her own remembrance of bizarre knowledge had never come in handy until the conversation, yet, she had been grateful to have learned about seahorses, the purpose of eyebrows, and, in Pepper’s words, “dangerous wax coating on supermarket apples”. 

The left corner of his mouth curled up into a meager smile, “he must’ve been real horny then.” 

“He must’ve been,” she agreed. 

An unusually amicable silence settled between the pair as she bit her tongue on a cobra’s blood would be a much more unsettling aphrodisiac addition, keeping it to herself rather than continuing a conversation of sexual matters with him. James had presumably picked out an entree, messing with the silverware until a certain man caught his eye. He shuffled in the seat, refilling both of their glasses, and leaned in closer than she would ever want him to, especially during dinner, for she had not yet lost her appetite. 

“Remember Elijah Williamson,” he stared at someone behind the woman, “a corrupted politician the FBI asked us to help incarcerate?”

“Yes,” she narrowed her eyes, attempting to read Bucky’s expression, “he was accused of working with HYDRA on a similar project as they did in 2014.”

“And we both knew that HYDRA continued to work in silence and that he was guilty, even though the court deemed Elijah innocent?”

“Yes.” The tone of her voice was beginning to bear hints of annoyance again, the relatively lighthearted atmosphere shattering. 

The FBI and Avengers often bumped heads, given their lines of work, so it had come as a surprise when the government’s agents had reached a dead end and showed up at the compound for help. She could remember the day as if it had happened yesterday — the smug grin she had on throughout the first meeting and the sour taste when Steve had paired the two.

“We need someone with extensive knowledge of HYDRA and someone who could go undercover,” he had said then, “please put your differences aside. This is important.”

Steve had been wrong about the woman. She had not been needed for undercover work.

Nonetheless, by the time Natasha had offered to step in and take over, James and y/n were in too deep. Too deep into Elijah Williamson’s personal and professional lives. The case had consumed them, and at times, they’d almost stumble on the missing piece of the puzzle before the court had deemed him innocent, and they had been forced to step away empty-handed. Somedays, she strangely missed the countless cups of coffee, the sleepless nights, and the eerily peaceful conversations the two had shared for eight solid months.

“Do you still think he’s guilty?”

“The government asked us to not intervene any further after the trial was over.”

“Yes, but that is not the answer to the question I asked.” James returned his stare to her face. It was firm and heavy, and as he searched for something in her eyes, a glimmer of trust perhaps, she hunched in the chair. “Do you?”

She was in thought for a second. “We had very few leads, James.” None were of significance either. “Elijah donates to charities all the time, he helps kids in the foster system, hell, he does too much good to believe he’d want to wipe out half the population.”

“That’s what he wants everyone to assume.”

“I would love to entertain the idea of Elijah Williamson being guilty, but the man, as it stands, is innocent in the eyes of prosecutors.”

James leaned back in his seat. “Do you trust me?” His sudden change of tone took her by surprise.

“I could envision trusting you on the field if my life depended on it, but I’d be reluctant to ask for a coffee.” Reluctant was a restrained statement. 

“Good girl.”

“What?” She asked, face drained of emotions before she burst out laughing. Heaven help me, James has a praise kink, she giggled once more, he’s so getting blackmailed when we get back. 

“It slipped out on accident.” Pink hues crept onto his cheeks before his expression hardened. “Don’t turn around, but Elijah’s here, and he’s been staring at me ever since Jared brought the champagne.”

The woman must’ve developed an instinct to do the opposite of what James would instruct her because she peeked over her shoulder, locking eyes with the politician.

“The waiter’s name is Jordan.” She spoke, ignoring Bucky’s disappointed expression when their eyes met. “I suppose this action did not earn me a second good girl?”

“It did not.” He smoothed the invisible wrinkles on his satin shirt. “Please behave. Elijah is making his way towards us.” His words were less than a whisper.

She had seen Elijah at the trial, sneaking glances from the very far back to avoid getting noticed, but she did not remember him being … attractive? The man who loomed over their table had a full head of luscious, gray locks, and though he had just turned 68, he did not look a day over 50, with sun-kissed features and round eyes.

“Sergeant Barnes, it’s a surprise to see you in Maui.”

James rose to shake his outstretched hand. “I have to agree. I’d never peg you as The Maui Resort kind of man.”

“My wife and I met here, what,” he paused, “thirty years ago? We return each August for our anniversary.” He chuckled, turning his focus towards y/n. “Who’s this beautiful lady?”

“Thank you.” She offered him a smile, leaping up from the chair. “I’m Amelie, James’s wife.” She outstretched her hand, which he shook without hesitancy. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

It pained James physically to abstain from an eye roll. 

“Elijah.” He introduced himself and glanced behind the pair, studying the table. “Champagne is always a sign of celebration.” Though it was not formulated as a question, his tone had notes of curiosity in it.

“Yes!” James confirmed as if breaking free from a trance. “Honeymooners,” he gestured between himself and y/n, “we’re honeymooning.”

Elijah took a second to speak, staring at the soldier in amusement, and y/n stepped in before James had a chance to deliver additional, and most likely ludicrous, lines. “Would you mind joining us for dinner?”

The politician was great at masking, but she was a spy, trained by the Natasha Romanoff to pick up every, and any, clue. “Everyone has a tell,” the redhead had observed, “learn to notice the smallest of reactions.”

It was a slight raise of his left eyebrow that had revealed his interest in the personal life of James Buchanan Barnes. His interest in James’s wife, in her.

“We’d hate to interrupt.” He spoke, and there it was again, the subconscious raise of his eyebrow.

“Please,” she smiled, softly placing a hand on Bucky’s bicep, “I’d love to hear about your program for troubled teens in foster systems.”

The soldier beside her realized y/n’s play, “we haven’t even ordered, yet,” he encouraged.

They had been asked to abandon the case, but a dinner with Elijah Williamson was the closest lead they’d ever get. The eight months they had spent working on the case had strangely been the most peaceful months he had ever spent at the compound. A snarky remark would slip past his or y/n’s lips in a while, but they had managed to act cordial. He burned with a desire to demolish HYDRA and anything that was left of it, and she had taken the hint, letting James lead the way. It had been the first time he had seen y/n for who she truly was — a great spy and agent, but she’d never know for he’d never tell her. The pair had built a balance between respect and hatred, and compliments had no place in their complex relationship.

She had always known James was a deadly assassin and an excellent spy, but she had never accounted James as a persuasive liar. By the time dessert came, Bucky had fabricated intricate stories of their wedding, life after retirement, and a random fake cat named Alpine. According to him, it had magnificent white fur and was adopted. He had lazily draped the metal arm across her chair’s backrest a while ago, and she could almost forget the motive behind the dinner. Bucky’s stories had painted him as a cool, loving husband, who had been eager for a honeymoon ever since the two got falsely married. That he hadn’t mentioned.

The tone of his voice remained charming throughout the night, and y/n silently reminded herself this dinner wasn’t a pleasure for Bucky or for herself, but simply a means to an end.

“James, do not take this the wrong way, but Amelie is wonderful.” Nancy, Elijah’s wife, spoke. “Very few people would be willing to forgive, and pardon me for the harsh phrasing, the Winter Soldier’s bloody past.”

James tensed at the words, maintaining his faux grin. “She is.”

Perhaps under different circumstances, she could see herself appreciating Nancy. The woman operated multiple charities, was a human rights lawyer, and a socialite. She oozed elegance, her graying blonde locks, pulled into a tight bun, perfectly complemented her auburn orange gown. She appeared to be out of touch with reality at times, but she was somewhat friendly and welcoming. Definitely, a great listener, and though being a great listener did not exclude someone from committing crimes, y/n had a hard time comprehending that this graceful woman could do as much as lift a finger to a small animal. Nancy couldn’t want half the population wiped out, could she?

“It was harsh,” she came to Bucky’s defense, “but I understand how it could appear from the outside looking in,” her tone had an edge sharper than she intended it to. 

“Amelie’s a very forgiving person,” James shifted in his seat, removing his arm to refill everyone's wine glasses, “and she’s all mine.” The glimmer in his eyes when he turned to peek at her was a relieved thank you.

“Sergeant Barnes,” she broke their brief eye contact to look at Nancy, “has blood on his hands, but it is not a burden James should bare, for it was HYDRA’s fault.” She noticed as his hand slowly crept underneath the table, harshly squeezing her thigh; a warning that it’s too soon to bring it up. “If HYDRA existed to this day, I would destroy it myself for everything they’ve done to him.” Bucky's firm grasp had painted goosebumps on her exposed skin, yet she refrained from smacking his palm away, opting to furtively push it aside.

“She asks me to get rid of spiders.” He forced a chuckle, studying y/n, and removed his hand. “My wife is too terrified to kill them.”

“Oh, I believe Amelie. A woman would do anything for the man she loves.” Nancy nodded, causing the two to share a pithy look.

“Nancy’s right, James, your wife is a wonderful young woman,” he peered at him through the top of his glass, “and Amelie, thank you for having common sense.”

She analyzed Elijah's body language, noticing a second tell.

The politician would gently tap on his glass, middle and index fingers barely making contact with the object before he'd push it away to knit his hands together. It had only begun after bottles of champagne they had shared as a group. He was intoxicated and most likely wouldn’t shy away from speaking voluntarily.

“What do you mean?”

“Last year I was on a trial instigated by some FBI fools.” The politician leaned back in his seat. “They accused me of leading HYDRA, except HYDRA doesn’t manifestly exist."

She caught the word manifestly, holding onto it. If he had ended the sentence with "HYDRA doesn't exist, manifestly," she might've let it slip, but, and perhaps she was reading too much into it given his underhanded past, "HYDRA doesn't manifestly exist"?

“The FBI does more damage than good.” She spoke with faux reassurance. “I wouldn’t find it hard to believe those knuckleheads put a lovely man through unimaginable horrors.”

“Careful, Sergeant, I might have to steal her.” Elijah’s comment earned him a playful smack on the shoulder from Nancy. “Darling, it was a joke. Nancy Williamson is the only woman I’d ever need.” He placed a tender kiss on her temples before turning his attention to James.

“What is the secret?” He questioned, pretending to be amazed by their affection. “We might need it a couple years down the road.” A sly smile stretched across his features.

“Don’t say that!” Nancy hiccuped as she drained her glass. “You’re both so young and so in love.”

We are young, y/n thought, but hell would freeze over before we fell in love.

The woman placed a gentle hand on Nancy’s before she could refill her glass. “It’s probably best if we called it a night.” She spoke, pretending to care whether Nancy was drunk or sober. 

“I was skeptical of a dinner with the former Winter Soldier at first,” Elijah wrapped a hand around Nancy’s shoulders, pulling her into his embrace, “but it was great. I cannot believe you cook eggs with pesto, I must try that.”

“I do,” James nodded, unsure of what pesto was, only ever hearing about it from Tony, but supporting his lie nonetheless, “it’s a breakfast from heaven.”

Elijah laughed at his words, loud and carefree. “What are your plans for tomorrow?” He asked, glancing between them.

Her plan was to tan in an adults-only beach and drink her body weight in mediocre margaritas, as far away from James as she could possibly get, but an honest answer might not have gone down well.

“Surprisingly, we have not decided yet.”

“Great! Nancy and I are organizing a yacht party tomorrow, so put it on the list.”

James wasn’t a fan of yachts, parties, or spending time around y/n, but he was willing to sacrifice comfort if it meant a solid lead toward the demolition of HYDRA, “I cannot wait.” 

TAGS:

@legohe4rts @missvelvetsstuff @browneyedgirl22 @gr33nleo @thatrandomcatoverthere @fiftywhore1 @buggy14 @nt-multi-fandom @physically-im-fine @marygoddessofmischief @fuckthealarm

[queenshelby]

Chemical Reactions (P. 21)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy as J Robert Oppenheimer x Student Reader

Warning: Age-Gap, Infidelity, Smut, Torture

Words: 1,889

Note: The fic is spoiler free and my own fantasy and imagination. It is not historically and scientifically accurate.

It was early December and a few more weeks had passed since Robert had sent the letter to you, to which he received no response. 

Concerned, Robert met with General Groves who informed him about the progress of your case and difficulties for him to obtain correspondence from you. Unfortunately for Robert, Groves also informed him that reaching a conclusion in respect of your release still required more time than initially expected due to bureaucratic delays.

Feeling helpless and anxious, Robert continued to pour his energy into his work, focusing solely on the task at hand which, again, proved more difficult than he had anticipated. 

The first implosion test failed and a series of subsequent tests resulted in setbacks too. Although these failures might have discouraged lesser men, they served to intensify Robert’s dedication and tenacity. Each failure drove him further into his research, leaving behind nothing short of success when the stakes were highest.

But, it wasn't just the scientific aspect that consumed him – the mere thought of failing you made his predicament worse. 

It didn't matter how many hours he spent poring over equations and calculations, his mind always drifted back to you. Your image haunted him like a phantom, taunting him with visions of your smiling face, tender touch, and warm embraces. And then, late nights turned into sleepless nights as thoughts of you invaded his dreams, making sleep seem like an elusive creature refusing to grant him respite.

These agonizing days wore on, each bringing fresh torments. Nightmares plagued Robert's slumber, filling his waking hours with a profound exhaustion until, one afternoon, just weeks before Christmas, everything seemed to fall into place when Groves came to visit.

"Robert," Groves greeted with a solemn expression as, without knocking, he entered his office and startling him from his thoughts.

"General," Robert acknowledged with equal gravity, rising slowly from his chair, a hint of worry etched across his brow.

"Do sit, Robert," Groves ordered calmly, gesturing towards the seat and, as Robert sat back down, he noticed that General Groves appeared unusually serious and formal.

Swallowing hard, Robert composed himself, preparing to confront whatever dire situation lay ahead, thinking that, clearly, his day could not become any worse after, just that same morning, yet another implosion device failed to detonate. 

"I have an early Christmas present for you," General Groves announced abruptly, casting aside any pleasantries. 

"General, I am Jewish, we do not..." Robert began to say, but the General interrupted him sharply.

"Trust me Robert, you will be delighted nonetheless," Groves chuckled, causing Robert to furrow his eyebrows.

"Unless that surprise is going to helpful when it comes to activating the gadget, I must apologize if my excitement remains contained, General," Robert retorted with a rather exhausted look on his face, making the General realize how little he must have been sleeping.

"Well, for a matter of fact, the surprise I have for you is a scientist and I am hopeful that she might be able to help you become inspired with new ideas that will, indeed, help with the activation of the gadget," Groves responded confidently, knowing full well how important your contribution would be.

"You are bringing a new scientist on to the project without my consultation?" Robert asked incredulously, his initial disbelief transforming into anger. 

"Indeed, I am Robert. Now come. I want you to meet her," Groves commanded briskly, stepping past Robert's desk to lead the way. Robert hesitated briefly, wondering why the urgency, feeling somewhat unwilling to get excited. But, curiosity piqued his interest, driving him to follow suit despite his reservations. Together, they descended the steps leading outside and, soon enough, Robert realized that General Groves was leading him past the security gate and towards his own house.

"General, forgive me for asking, but why precisely are we heading to my home?" Robert enquired curiously, attempting to contain his growing suspicion.

"Like I said Robert, I want you to meet the newest addition to your team," Groves stated firmly, opening the door to his residence, whereupon Robert found himself suddenly standing inside, bewildered by the sudden shift in locale.

"General, please explain to me..." Robert began to plead, his tone displaying a mix of frustration and impatience, just before he got interrupted. 

"Robert, believe me when I say you will appreciate meeting this woman," Groves answered cryptically, guiding Robert into the living room where, suddenly, he saw you sitting there, looking up at him with those intense eyes that had captivated him so completely.

Robert froze in shock and disbelief upon seeing you. The unexpectedness of the encounter left him momentarily speechless, taking in the sight of you before him as though he were viewing something unreal or a mirage. Time stood still as he gazed at you, lost in admiration. His heart raced wildly against his rib cage while his mouth went dry.

Standing up, you rose gracefully, walking towards him with an undeniably feminine sway, your soft footsteps echoing against the wooden floorboards beneath you. As you reached closer, Robert felt his breath hitch, watching your every movement intently, struggling to regain control of his erratic pulse.

"Do I not at least get a kiss?" you teased playfully, tilting your head to the side, flashing a shy smile. Robert felt his heart skip a beat, overcome with both relief and longing, the familiar yearning returning with vengeance. Reaching forward, he took hold of your hands, pressing his lips fervently against yours, feeling a surge of desire coursing through his veins. 

"Where is our son?" Robert demanded passionately, pulling away momentarily while you clung onto him, reciprocating his affection wholeheartedly.

"He is asleep. In your bedroom. He cried all the way here, so he really needed the rest," you explained earnestly, caressing his cheek lovingly. Robert leaned down, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead, relieved that your son was safe.

"Thank you, my love," Robert exclaimed gratefully, embracing you tightly, unable to let go even after several minutes had passed. This was the second chance he never imagined receiving – a gift straight from heaven. For about a year, you two had been kept apart, separated by deceit, distance, and obstacles, but fate had conspired to bring you together again.

"Perhaps I should give you some privacy, but before I go, please be advised that officials are going to keep a close eye on the both of you. Y/N will not receive security clearance and must remain at Los Alamos until the project concludes. She has been cleared of all wrongdoing, but these are the precautions we will need to take to bring her back on to the project, Robert," Groves began before addressing the fact that Robert now had not only one, but two, children to be looked after.

"As far your children are concerned, they will remain here, with you. This includes Kitty's son who she chose to leave in your care upon her departure from Los Alamos. I have taken it upon myself to employ a child nurse to look after them both. She will arrive tomorrow," Groves informed, pausing briefly as Robert digested the news. It was certainly a lot to process - finding solace in your arms, having been reunited with you, and now learning that he would also bear responsibility for raising not one, but two young lives. "Now, you must understand that, for obvious reasons, I expect you to retain professionalism at work. The only reason I have allowed Y/N back on to the project is because I consider it beneficial to the well-being of the man who runs Los Alamos for me. So now, I expect focus from you, Robert!" Groves instructed sternly, drawing attention back to matters concerning national security before saying his farewell, hoping not to be back until after Christmas. 

After Groves left, silence fell heavy around you both, giving you both time to truly reflect on what transpired. Both hearts racing, filled with gratitude and apprehension, Robert pulled you closer, allowing your bodies to nestle snugly into each other. He couldn't believe this was finally happening, you being right there beside him, holding him close, cherishing moments previously stolen from you.

"I need to see our son," Robert insisted, breaking free from your embrace gently as he heard him squirm, making unsettling noises.

"Of course," you smiled before, overwhelmed, you closed your eyes, savoring the tender memory of his touch.

"Come with me and I will introduce you," you offered, entwining your fingers with his as you led him toward the bedroom, sharing a comforting warmth as you walked shoulder to shoulder.

You then opened the door to the dimly lit room where your tiny son stirred peacefully, swaddled in blankets, angelic features contrasting the gloomy atmosphere. The sight of him stirred mixed feelings of joy and sadness in Robert, reminding him of the responsibilities he faced along with the happiness derived from being reunited with you in this world, at war. 

"Go on, pick him up. He is awake," you encouraged softly, reaching across to guide Robert's hand toward your son's small body.

Gingerly, Robert lifted him from the cradle, feeling like the weight of the world was now balanced precariously in his palms. Carefully, he held the infant close to his chest, feeling his fragile frame trembling slightly underneath the pressure of fatherhood. The sweet innocence radiating off of his son struck Robert hard, filling him with both immense pride and trepidation simultaneously.

"See, that's your daddy, my sweet boy," you whispered softly, your voice resonating with genuine tenderness as Robert rocked him gently.

"He looks just like you, Oppie," you added lightheartedly, referring to his striking features, causing a hint of laughter to surface in Robert's strained expression.

"He's got your smile though," Robert remarked pensively, gazing deeply into the baby's eyes which mirrored his own intensity. Seeing the resemblances brought forth fond memories of the days spent together when everything seemed perfect, a stark contrast to reality.

With tears beginning to pool in his eyes, Robert turned to face you, trying to hide his vulnerability behind a facade of bravado. Unable to maintain composure any longer, he wrapped you both in a protective embrace, holding onto you fiercely until, suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

"Dr Oppenheimer! You must come quickly!" his secretary announced frantically, catching Robert unawares with the urgency in her voice. Startled, Robert glanced hurriedly towards you, hesitation evident in his eyes as he contemplated leaving your presence prematurely.

"Go, Robert! I will be here when you get back," you reassured him, stroking his arm affectionately as he moved closer to you.

Taking a deep breath, bidding you goodbye, Robert set off towards the sound of his secretary's distressed call and, before you knew it, he barged out the door. 

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@heidimoreton @nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter

[thechaoticdruid]

Welcome to my humble party!~

[My Astarion Fanfic Masterlist]

Just call me Druid since I really have no intention of revealing my real name for the foreseeable future.

I decided to make a masterlist just to help organize my stuff!

~Original Characters for story or RP stuff~

Winnifred The Druid -My Tav

Arva Nightshade -Winnie's closest pre-tadpole friend.

Fi The Hornless -A talented bard and a member of Arva's pack. She helped look after a juvenile Winnie.

Elora Ancunin -Under developement...

RP Note: Winnie is currently open to answering questions from all of you beautiful people! She is an open book so do not be afraid to ask away! Astarion may even make an appearance in the reply depending on the question. No he will not bite you, Araj! Just make sure to label your ask; Dear Winnie, Question for Winnie, Hey Winnie, I dare Winnie to, etc, and we will let the fun begin!

More NSFW type questions are accepted, but only by people who have their age visible on their blogs. Minors attempting to ask or anons without any age identification will be blocked/ignored. (Also let's try not to ask anything too gross okay.... I'm into some weird stuff but you know limits, my dude.)

~During campaign Winnie fics Masterlist~

[Click Here Darling~]

~Multi-part Fanfics~

[This Bites] Astarion x Chubby Female MC

A young woman ends up literally stuck with a fictional vampire from her newest video game obsession! She now must deal with keeping him safe and hidden all the while dealing with stress from her shitty stepdad.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3 ,4 , 5 , 6 , 7

Valentine's Day Special: Eat Your Heart!

[The Spawn Vs The Ascendant] (Fem) Tav x Astarion(s).

Astarion and his lover Tav are happily together after defeating Cazador and freeing 7000 vampire spawn into the Underdark. They are now preparing to take on the Elderbrain when an Astarion look alike, claiming to be 'The Vampire Ascendant' appears and demands the Spawn hand Tav over to him.

Parts: 1 , 2 , 3 , 4

The Spawn vs Tav vs The Ascendant: A smutty one-shot that doesn't really take place in any particular time during the events of TSvTA. MDNI 18+ (Though if I'm honest it probably takes place post story.)

[Firsts] (Named!Fem! Tav x Astarion) Winnie has noticed her vampiric companion had been acting much more aggressively flirtatious lately. Of course, he flirted with everyone, this was common sense. But ever since Winnie had given him a taste of her blood it seemed she was the main target of his affections. Which quite frankly confused the hells out of the young druid. He couldn't actually be interested in her? Could he?

MDNI 18+ There is smut! The second half involves the Tiefling party!

[1/2] [2/2]

[Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts] (Chubby F!Tav x Astarion) After failing yet again to find a good lead on the Ring of the Sunwalker Tav and Astarion return to their current and hopefully temporary home in the Underdark only to be greeted by a distress signal from an old friend and an invitation to extravagant soiree hosted by an eccentric stranger!

Chapters: One ,

~Headcanon lists!~

[Astarion x chubby!reader headcanons!] (GN! Reader)

[🍿Watching movies with Astarion!🍿] (GN! Reader)

[BG3 companions babysitting your kids!] (GN! Reader)

[Telling the companions baby news!] (GN! Reader)

[Meet the Parents!] (A fun little writing challenge I put together. I wrote up headcanons of Astarion meeting my Tav's parents and Winnie meeting Astarion's parents.)

[Astarion's Teddy 🧸] (A little HC about Winnie giving Star a plush.)

~Other~

[All Wrapped up!] A short AstarionxF!Tav Christmas one-shot inspired by my God-awful ability to wrap presents.

[We'll Protect Each Other] While staying at an inn in the Underdark Tav and Astarion are forced to protect each other. Tav defends her lover's honor which later leads to a visit in the night from a familiar face. (Protective! Tav x Astarion One-Shot.)

[The Bite Scene] A rewrite of Astarion's bite camp event with my Tav, Winnie. It was basically a draft from my abandoned long fic.

[The Monster Hunter] Happens right before the The Bite Scene. It's a rewrite of the encounter with Gandrel out in the bog. Another draft from my abandoned long fic that I just decided to share.

[Indulging Curiosity] (F!Tav x Astarion SMUT MDNI) After a particularly bloody battle with a pack of gnolls Astarion finds himself rather hot and bothered seeing his favorite little druid absolutely drenched in blood. Unable to help himself he invites her to join him for an evening of pleasure where he indulges in some of Tav's sexual curiosities.

[Seriously, now!?] (Named!Tav x Astarion, period comfort fic) After causing a scene, embarrassing and being shouted at by the party's own resident wizard, Winnie storms off alone to sulk. Her monthly bleeding is upon her and making everything seem so much worse! But perhaps her vampiric lover can make it all better? (MDNI, slight smut at the end.)

[Forever] A requested rewrite of the camp event where Astarion's siblings come to kidnap him, but featuring Winnie!

[Delicious] (Named!Tav x Astarion) While camping in the Underdark the tadpole crew gather around the fire telling stories to pass the time. One way or another they turn into tales of old lovers. Which brings up a curious question? How come Winnie had no lovers before Astarion? (MDNI SMUT AT END)

~Taglists~

[This Bites] Comment on the latest chapter to be added!

[Winnie during BG3] Comment here to be tagged whenever I drop any fics that take place during Baldur's Gate 3 campaign!

[The Spawn Vs The Ascendant] Comment here to be added to the taglist, but hurry! This fic will soon be complete!

Ao3 Account Though most of my stuff will probably be updated here on Tumblr first!

Blog Rules ig: Okay so I normally try to promote positivity it's why my fics are mostly comedy based. That being said, anyone who comes here acting like an asshat is getting blocked. I don't tolerate homophobia, heterophobia, biphobia, panphobia or really any kind of discrimination towards anyone's sexuality. Transphobic behavior is also unacceptable and will result in a block. Racism, or sexism of any kind is also not tolerated, understand? We're all going to be friends here. Treat people the way you want to be treated.

Requests???

Hi, friendly neighborhood Druid here. My ADHD gives me a shit ton of trouble writing so I'm real iffy about doing requests of any kind. That being said, I'm currently only taking specific requests involving Astarion x my Tav Winnie where I rewrite a scene from the in game campaign. I've already done the Tiefling Party so that is out of the question. And so is anything post Act 3 final boss. I'm also honestly just open to chatting through the asks.

-Druid

[slutforsilverfoxes]

Close Shave

[A/N: What up homies, it’s me, ya girl, steadily adding to my Honorable Men-tions while my husbands watch me like 👀 bitch?

This fic is inspired by the scene & song from Skyfall- I hope you like it :) Feedback is always appreciated, as well as requests for fics or new characters to explore!]

007 glides silently through the doorway, a jungle cat on the prowl for his next meal. He eases the door shut with a soft click, then moves stealthily down the hall in search of his target. A single lamp illuminates the modest London flat casting wicked shadows on the walls surrounding a small feminine figure. He creeps forward, ready to pounce, the next phase of his plan already formulating in his brain.

“Hello, James,” you murmur, not even sparing him a glance as you casually flip to the next page of your novel.

His warm chuckle caresses your skin like a lover’s gentle touch, his honeyed voice stoking the fire in your belly spurred to life by his mere presence. “How is it that I can sneak up on assassins but not a museum curator?”

Your mouth turns up in a smile and you offer your cheek in greeting, scrunching your nose at the feeling of coarse stubble against your skin. “I can smell the cologne I bought you for Christmas from a mile away.“

“Hm.”

“And I may have pestered Q into telling me when you’d be home.”

“Pestered?”

Folding your legs under your body, you swivel to meet his steely blue gaze with a grin. “Bullied,” you concede. “Only so I didn’t almost accidentally kill you with a fireplace poker.”

“Again.”

You wag your book in his face with a raised eyebrow. “That’s what you get for breaking and entering at four in the bloody morning with no prior warning!”

He grunts in concession before easily lifting you off the couch, only to take your seat and tuck you against his body. You hum in delight at the prospect of having him home, however short lived his visit may be, placing your book aside before nuzzling into his chest and pressing kisses to the underside of his strong jaw. Scraping your nails along his cheek, you muse, “You need to shave.”

He gives you an indignant look, carding his fingers through your hair. “Some women happen to like a beard, you know.”

“Then go break into one of their homes,” you fire back, letting your teeth graze along the path forged previously by your lips.

He lets out a throaty laugh that dissolves into a soft moan as you work your way over his jaw to press your lips to his. You share a few innocent pecks before your longing takes over, and you shift to straddle his lap as James’ tongue slips past your willfully parted lips. His fingers work their way under your shirt, trailing along your ribcage before settling on your hips with a gentle squeeze. You release a contented sigh into his mouth, all of the tension leaving your body and allowing you to relax against him.

Running your nose over the sharp planes of his jaw, you murmur, “Let me. Please?”

“Let you what?” He nibbles at the spot just south of your ear and you gasp, rocking against him and feeling him growing hard beneath you in response. Static fills your mind as your senses are overwhelmed by everything that is James, but you press on valiantly. “Help you shave.”

Calloused digits knead the soft skin of your thighs as he hums, contemplating. “Is this another attempt on my life? Replacing the poker with a razor?”

“James!” you admonish, laughing before growing serious as your fingers dance across his handsome features. “You know that my expertise lies in handling art delicately. What kind of curator would I be if I allowed any harm to come to my favorite exhibit?”

He turns his head to press a kiss to each of your palms, then meets your gaze with a cheeky grin. “That’s all I am to you, hm? A specimen to be ogled?”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” you retort with a roll of your eyes. Climbing off his lap and taking his hand to lead him to the master bathroom, you tack on, “You conveniently double as a bodyguard.”

You slide the cushioned seat from your vanity over to the sink and tap it twice with a coy smile. James settles into his spot obediently while you hunt through the cabinets for his straight razor and shaving cream, placing them on the counter before moving to stand behind him. You study your reflections in the mirror as you run your fingers through his hair, your body growing warm at the sight of him subtly shifting his hips when you tug on the short strands. You walk your fingers down his neck and over his broad shoulders, kneading the taut muscles along the way to the apex of his dress shirt. “May I?”

He opens his eyes to meet your gaze in the mirror, ocean blue eclipsed by a sea of inky black. “Always, my love.” His voice has dropped to a low growl that sends a thrum through you. Deft fingers hastily unbutton his shirt with the promise of exploring his body after too many days and nights spent apart. You tug the fabric off and toss it aside, kissing his neck while your hands glide along his muscular chest. “Darling,” he rumbles out through a laugh to get your attention, and you look up to find several marks blooming across his previously unadulterated skin. With a bashful smile, you respond, “I just can’t help myself around you.”

Rounding the chair to squeeze yourself into the space between his legs and the counter, you lower yourself to your knees. He watches your every move with rapt fascination, his breathing picking up ever so subtly when you reach forward to release him from the confines of his fitted slacks. You tug his pants and underwear off before delicately trailing your fingers over his length, marveling at the weight in your hand and how responsive he is to your touch. Peeking up at him from beneath your lashes, you lean in and swipe your tongue over the head, a needy whine escaping your lips at the taste of him. “Darling,” he calls out again, now with an edge to his voice, cheeks flushed and chest heaving with forced restraint. He threads his fingers through your hair and gives a gentle tug, guiding you forward once more. You wrap your lips around him in earnest, gliding down his length while one hand comes up to massage his balls, the other resting on his lower abdomen. With each swirl of your tongue and pull of your lips, the toned muscle beneath your fingertips ripples and liquid heat pools between your aching thighs.

Replacing your mouth with your hand, you look up at James with nothing short of utter devotion in your misty eyes. “I missed you so much, my love,” you rasp out, an involuntary shudder racing down your spine when his fingertips brush over the apple of your cheek.

Tucking his hand under your chin, he directs you to stand and pulls you close for a tender kiss. You continue twisting your wrist along his length as his tongue slides against yours, a sharp gasp punching out of you when he unceremoniously rips your underwear off and runs his middle finger along your slit, the useless lace now pooled on the floor.

“Oh, sweet girl,” he rumbles lowly, slipping his finger inside you and groaning in appreciation at how greedily you clench around him, “you really did miss me, hm?”

“More-” You whimper into his mouth when he adds a second finger, and then a third, lovingly preparing you for his thick cock. “More than I can even describe.”

He draws his fingers out, caressing your sensitive walls as he does so, before replacing your hand with his own at the base of his cock. The obscene sound of your spit and slick gliding along his length as he draws his hand over himself has you clenching around nothing, a desperate whine of “James,” falling past your pouting lips. He soothes you with sweet words, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth while his free hand comes up to your hip to guide you down onto him. You cry out at the exquisite stretch, nails digging into his shoulders as you circle your hips to sheathe him inside of you as deeply as possible.

Tucking your face into his neck to pepper his glistening skin with kisses, you beg, “Don’t move. Just let me feel you.”

He hums in concession, gently tugging your oversized sleep shirt off before running his fingers along the column of your spine. The tingling sensation has you rolling your hips against him, moaning when the movement presses the head of his cock against just the right spot.

“Now, darling,” he mumbles against your hair, his large hand possessively cradling the back of your neck, “I do believe we came in here to accomplish something.”

“Can’t remember,” you sigh out. “Too full.”

His ensuing chuckle warms you from the inside out, and you gasp when he leans forward to reach the countertop, shifting his position inside you. He presses something cold into your hand, and you blearily open your eyes to find his razor glinting at you in the muted bathroom light.

With a sigh, you relent, “Fine,” but his firm grip on your hips stops you from rising. “But then how will I-” Your line of questioning comes to an abrupt halt when you spot the smirk playing on his sinful lips. “Oh.”

“Go ahead, love,” he croons, inclining his head toward the shaving cream while his hands come to settle on the globes of your ass. You gather some of the foam between your fingertips, then trace two delicate lines on his cheek in the shape of a heart. Glancing at your work in the mirror, he questions, “How can you be so damn adorable while full of my cock?”

You answer him with only a wink, then get to work coating his stubble with the shaving foam. Once he’s sufficiently lathered up, you ease the blade out and plant your non-dominant hand firmly on his shoulder. “Don’t move, James,” you instruct softly.

He tucks a lock of your hair behind your ear, smiling at the way your tongue peeks out between your lips in concentration, and murmurs, “I won’t.”

You run the blade down James’ face in precise, delicate strokes, mewling in delight every time you stretch to rinse the razor off and he pulses inside of you. Several minutes into your ministrations, he arches his hips against yours with a ragged sigh, moving impossibly deeper as he cranes his neck to look in the mirror. “Halfway there. Doing well, sweetheart.”

“I feel like I’m going to explode,” you attempt a laugh, but it morphs into a strangled moan.

“That would certainly be less than optimal.” He runs his index finger down the side of your neck as you take your next swipe of the blade, your breath hitching when he wraps his hand around your throat and adds the smallest bit of pressure.

The razor stills on his cheek, momentarily forgotten, and you shiver in delight. “What are you doing?”

“Focus on the task at hand,” he chides softly, and you obediently return your attention to the remainder of his beard even as his other hand comes up to massage one of your breasts. You clench around him reflexively, and the hand on your throat squeezes in kind.

“James,” you growl out, this time purposefully flexing your walls around his throbbing cock. He answers your show of defiance with one of his own, both hands tightening their grip and eliciting a whine from you.

“Tit for tat, darling,” he mutters softly, the corners of his mouth ticking up in a wicked smile.

With every movement, every precise flick of your wrist, every droplet of water running down your arm and dripping onto your thigh, your walls squeeze around James’ cock and his fingers press deeper into your skin, and your vision starts going blurry around the edges with need. Finally, mercifully, your lover sits before you clean shaven once again, and you smile proudly at your work.

Nuzzling your nose against his, you sigh at the idea of having to separate yourself from him. “I forgot a towel.”

“Top cabinet?”

“Mhm.”

Tucking his hands underneath your thighs, James stands and settles you on the counter, still sheathed in your warmth. He pulls back to open the cabinet and collect a towel, and you keen at the loss of the fullness until he slots himself back between your thighs.

“Christ,” you hiss, digging your nails into his biceps and arching your back.

“Easy, love,” he murmurs smoothly in response, hiding his smirk behind the cloth as he pats his face dry. You lock your ankles together behind his back, shifting closer and trying to entice him to move. “This is turning downright torturous.”

Dropping the towel on the counter, he shifts his attention back to you and lovingly squeezes the pillow of your thigh. “I always take care of you, don’t I?”

“Sooner rather than later would be preferred in this instance, Bond,” you sass back.

“Patience is a virtue,” he hums with an infuriating calmness to his voice even as he draws his hips back and drags his cock along your sensitive walls.

“I wouldn’t- oh god- consider what we’re doing to be entirely virtuous,” you answer through a moan, teeth sinking into your bottom lip in an attempt to quiet the noises spilling out of your mouth.

“Darling girl,” he tuts softly when he recognizes you’re trying to muffle your cries, fingers ghosting over your cheek before he grips your face and his hips pick up speed. The pressure has you releasing your lip from beneath your teeth, your mouth falling open and allowing wanton moans to escape. James tucks his other hand behind your knee, tugging you closer and letting him sink deeper with each stroke. He smiles down at you when you call out his name and rake your nails down his back, cooing, “That’s it, love. Let me hear you.”

Ever obedient, you moan unabashedly, your cries competing with the sinful sound of skin slapping against skin echoing throughout the marble bathroom. “James! Oh god, James,” you keen, clawing at his shoulders for purchase as your consciousness threatens to leave you, “I can’t- I’m going to-”

He hungrily mouths at your skin, soft pants falling past his lips between kisses as he makes his way up the curve of your throat. Moving his hand to grip the back of your neck, he draws you close to his body and grits out, “Cum for me, my darling.”

You feel your body shudder with the force of your orgasm washing over you, every nerve alight and buzzing as the sound of James’ beautiful moans fill your ears. Your mouth drops open but no sound comes out, your eyes rolling back when you feel the warmth of his release painting your walls. Holding your waist firmly, he presses his hips against yours as his cock twitches inside you, claiming your body completely.

“Good girl,” he pants in your ear, and you whimper at the praise.

“Yours,” you sigh out, completely spent. You turn your head to dot lazy kisses along his cheek, your lips curling upward at the feeling of his freshly smooth skin.

He notes your self-satisfied smile and chuckles warmly against the shell of your ear. “Pleased?”

“Mhm,” you respond sleepily, nuzzling his face and emitting a sound dangerously close to that of a purr.

“I’m glad,” he hums, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead. “Shower?”

“Can’t,” you mumble. Swinging your legs, you clarify, “Jelly.”

“Bath, then.”

James guides your arms around his neck and you latch on obediently as he lifts your sore body off the countertop. He slips out of you when he hitches you higher up in his arms, and you mumble out a protest despite the aching between your legs.

“What, darling, haven’t had enough?”

Fighting sleep, you tighten your hold on him and nip at his ear. “Never.”

“Naughty thing,” he chides playfully, landing a light pat on your ass before setting you on the edge of the tub.

“You know,” you begin, trailing your fingers along his back while he adjusts the water temperature, “it’s your fault for being so utterly irresistible.”

He grumbles out an undoubtedly unamused response under his breath before climbing into the tub and beckoning you to join him. Carefully maneuvering your shaky legs, you settle back against James, resting your head in the crook of his neck and sighing as the warm water caresses your sore muscles.

“Wet your hair for me.” You stifle a yawn, barely opening your eyes to fix James with a quizzical look. Always a man on a mission, he holds your gaze, unrelenting. ���Humor me, darling, will you?”

Heaving a dramatic sigh, you grip the sides of the tub and scoot your body forward until you can lower your hair below the waterline. After a thorough soak, you sit up and nestle yourself back between his legs, closing your eyes once more.

You hear the telltale snap of a bottle being uncapped, and then James’ expert fingers are massaging your scalp as the scent of vanilla and honeysuckle pervades your senses. You let out a hum of pure content, thoroughly enjoying being pampered by your love.

“I can’t explain,” he peppers your shoulders with delicate kisses between words as he works his fingers through your hair, “just how much I missed you.”

“Trust me, the feeling is mutual,” you sigh, responding to the pressure of his fingertips by tilting your head to grant him better access.

His silky smooth voice settles like a warm blanket on your skin as he runs his nose along your neck, and you shiver in delight. “You are absolutely exquisite.” He splays one hand possessively across your belly, the other dancing over the curve of your hip. “Divine.” Moving to grip your chin, he turns your face towards him and you feel his warm breath mingling with your own. “My own personal masterpiece.”

Drawing a trail of water down the column of your throat, between the valley of your breasts, and lower still to the apex of your thighs, he eases your folds apart once more and sheathes himself inside of you. Your mouth drops open wordlessly and he takes the opportunity to capture your lips in a tender kiss.

“You took such good care of me, my love,” he murmurs, delicately threading his fingers through the soapy strands of your hair as his hips press up against yours. “Now let me take care of you.”

[777moneymakersstuff]

- ͙۪۪̥˚┊❛ ERLING HAALAND imagine ❜┊˚ ͙۪۪̥◌

˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ┊e.haaland x f! reader

☄︎⋆ ༘ how would look your relationship with his family while you two are dating. . .

⇢ ˗ˏˋ FIRST MEETING ࿐ྂ

• you weren’t sure if it was a good idea to meet erling’s family and spend Christmas with them. when you heard that from him, you were speechless for a few seconds. it was supposed to be two-in-one solution. because you and erling were in a long-distance relationship, so you two didn’t hang out as much as you wanted to. you didn’t see each other for a full month, because you had school and he needed to train. unfortunately, the only "dates" you had were mostly by facetime, it made you miss each other, so erling came up with the idea of spending Christmas with his family.

• as anyone knew, erling was so close to his siblings and parents. he was such a family man, which made him an amazing person and partner. but you didn’t know if his family would accept you, you thought that his parents had their perfect idea of the perfect girlfriend for their youngest son. and you weren’t sure if you would meet their expectations.

• let’s say that you had a very interesting style. you loved funky makeup, that was far away from the "clean girl aesthetic" it was kind of your therapy and a form of expressing yourself. also, you didn’t like your natural hair, you just thought it were boring, so you wear a wigs every day. you had kind of big collection of those. you were grateful that erling loved your style and always complimented your looks. but you were scared that this would be something that they would hate about.

• when the day finally came, you were shaking internally, but you tried to look fine on the outside. you knew it was important to erling, so you didn’t want to be a dramatic queen because it was not your thing. when you two were finally outside his home, you squeezed the handle of your suitcase. you were expecting the worst greeting of your life, but as soon as you saw a middle-aged woman with a big smile on her face, your concerns disappeared.

• they were the kindest people you knew. it was surprising that they already treated you like a part of their family, even if they just met you. you didn’t have good terms with your own family, so you finally felt what a real family should look like.

• they appreciate everything you have done to help them with Christmas preparations, even if it was just setting the table or small things like this.

• long story short, you were positively surprised how Christmas at erling’s home turned out.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ RELATIONSHIP WITH HIS SISTER ࿐ྂ

• what can you say? gabrielle is the kindhearted soul you met. when you two first met, she was mesmerized by your energy and your look. she was totally your opposite; she wasn’t interested in makeup or crazy fashion items that much, her makeup bag was simple, and her outfits were mostly basic, but you became her inspiration.

• she was so excited that her little brother found a girl who was actually worth his attention. she knew that he seemed like a big, heartless guy, but he was a perfect example of why you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. so it was a relief for her when she saw how happy you made his brother.

• she loved to steal you from erling and have a girl’s night with you. she was a mom, and let’s be honest, it is a full-time job, so she loved even this one night to relax with you, sometimes she also invited anita.

• she loves sending you tiktok’s or instagram reels with sometimes goofy ideas to record. when you two are alone (or with her brother, astor) she loves to do some trends or things like that, it just makes her happy.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ RELATIONSHIP WITH HIS BROTHER ࿐ྂ

• astor became your spirit animal, you two are literally besties. you’re just acting like a stereotypical sibling who likes to joke about each other, etc. but you are happy that you finally have someone like that in your life.

• he is the master of sending you random stuff on instagram; memes, random tiktok’s. sometimes it isn’t even funny, but you always appreciate an effort. he is also the queen of recording the tiktok’s with you & gabrielle.

• he could be so random, like a video call just to tell you an unfunny joke and then hang out? yeah, he is something like that.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ RELATIONSHIP WITH HIS PARENTS ࿐ྂ

• alfie has always been an open-minded and positive person, so he doesn’t care about these little things like your look, style, makeup, etc. it’s just a way to express yourself, but it doesn’t say what kind of personality you have. and in his opinion, your personality is great, and he’s proud that his son found someone like you. he is fulfilled as a father when his children are happy.

• marita was excited to meet you, just like every mom, she wanted to meet her future daughter-in-law (she really hoped that it wasn’t only an affair). and let me tell you, she wasn’t disappointed. marita was also super happy that all of her children had love of their lives at such a young age. she really couldn’t be happier.

• alfie was impressed by your sense of humour. he enjoyed a good competition by making horrible dad jokes. when it comes to a family dinner, it just switches to live stand-up comedy or even a roast. sometimes only you two are laughing, but who cares?

⇢ ˗ˏˋ RELATIONSHIP WITH HIS STEP MOM & STEP SISTERS ࿐ྂ

• anita is in love with you. she loved when you came to norway, especially with food/snacks from your country. she also appreciates your kindness and how well you treat erling, she thinks that you are his soulmate.

• and the girls, love you (maybe a bit more than they love erling…) you are an inspiration for them, which you find cute. they are always super excited when anita tells them that you will be in norway for a few days, they would even make you your favourite cookies (with a bit of anita’s help, but still)

❛ ━━･❪ the end ❫ ･━━ ❜

hope you liked it!! i think it’s cute ¿headcanons? yeah, let me know how you liked it!!

[justalineinasong]

sweet nothings

bernard x gn! reader

Summary- Bernard is overworked, but you make him feel better.

Inspired by Taylor Swift's Sweet Nothings, love that song so much and it just feels like such a Bernard song. Let's be real, he is a swiftie!

Bernard was known for his on time and upright behavior. He had always been that way. The elf knew that if he ever wanted to raise amongst the ranks within the workshop, he'd have to do what was right. what was right was being on scheduled and showing other's that you were dependable. Bernard did everything in his power to make the other elves, and of course Santa, like him. However, Bernard never knows when to take a break.

For instance! The year before Scott became Santa, the workshop was running as smooth and on time as possible. In fact, it was October and the elves had surpassed their quota! Everyone was thrived about, everyone but Bernard. Bernard, in stead of letting himself celebrate, felt as if this meant bad luck was coming. Bernard had spent all day and night worrying himself sick just thinking about all the things that could go wrong before Christmas.

That's where the lovely Y/N comes in. Y/N had a way of calming not just Bernard, but everyone in the workshop. See, Bernard was Head elf, but there are actually various head elves all belonging to their own department. Like Judy was the head of baked goods and hot cocoa mixologist. Y/N was head of North Pole security and the Effective Liberating Flight Squad unit (E.L.F.S for short). Everyone felt safe knowing Y/N was there watching over them, making sure nothing went wrong. The North Pole had its fair share of experiences with research groups, archaeologists, and other interferences. Y/N had it all under control. What none of the other elves knew, was how Y/N could calm Bernard down with on look!

Bernard currently pacing up and down they workshop, checking in on everyone and the toys. This would have been fine, even nice, if it wasnt he 4th rotation around the workshop in an hour. The elves knew it was his job and he was just making sure everything was running smoothly, it was almost November so they couldn't blame him! However, everything was going smoothly. This year had been the most productive since Scott to over! Bernard had nothing to be concerned about.

That's why Scott went to Y/N. Just as all the elves knew, Santa knew of your spell over Bernard. Once he noticed Bernard going to make his 5th workshop check-up, Scott went to find Y/N. The H/C elf stood calmly in their security room. The walls covered in monitors, each showing a different angle of the Pole. Y/N had always found their job calming, even if it wasn't always calm. They had the unique job of assuring every elf, and occasional human, that they were safe! Y/N was talking to Danny, a E.L.F.S agent, about grabbing hot cocoa for the unit when Scott came in.

"Y/N, are you busy?" The sudden, new voice caused the E.L.F.S to look towards Santa, each giving him a wide grin to greet him 'hello'. Y/N looked to Santa, matching their agents smiles.

"No, I'm not! Everything is running smoothly, did you need me for something?" Confidence laced the elf's words as they stood tall, well as tall as an elf could stand!

"Yes, would you follow me?" Santa's question was met the a sharp 'of course' as Y/N followed his lead out of the security unit and to the workshop.

"It's November and all of you guys are doing fantastic- as usual!" Scott praised, but his face showed a different story. He sighed, his hands had go to reach the grand workshop door's golden handle. Yet his hand never made it. In stead, he turned back to Y/N with worried eyes. "Bernard is on edge, more than usual. He needs to calm down. You're the only I know who can get him to take a break."

The elf softly smiled at Santa, their hands reaching up to rub their eyes gently. "I told him he needed to sleep in today, sir. He was so overworked last night, he came home and passed right out...couldn't even bare to eat..." Y/N thought that when they told their lover to sleep in a bit, relax a bit in the morning, he would! Y/N wasnt asking him to take the day off completely- just a break in the morning! Bernard was gonna be the death of them.

"Please get him to take a nap or something before one of these poor elves snap at him. I think he'd fall over from being shout at right now." Scott was just as worried as you were, you knew that. The Jolly man reached to open the door, allowing you to walk through.

The moment the door had opened, every elf in that workshop had their eyes on Y/N; However, they were only looking at Bernard. Y/N quickly walked down the spiral staircase as the elves went back to work, they all knew why Y/N was there. Bernard looked scared at the sight of his lover. He knew he should have listened to them. Sure, his partner was the sweetest elf in the world, but Y/N wouldn't hesitate to drag Bernard's ass back to their home and force him to sit down. Bernard had a funny feeling that everything was about to happen.

Y/N grabbed his boyfriend's arm, Bernard had never seen him so worried. his lover's anxious look was painful for him to look at, Bernard felt sick when he realized he cause it. He never meant to stress Y/N out, they didn't deserve it.

“Have you slept?” Y/N soft voice made Bernard break, thankfully no one saw him tear up as his lover was already dragging him out of the workshop. “I mean, I know you’ve slept…but like really slept!” Y/N exclaimed as they let go of Bernard’s arm and turned to him. Their heart breaking at the sight of a misty eyed Bernard. “Oh snowflake…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you…I'm just worried.”

“I- I kn-know…” Bernard choked out causing Y/N to pull him close into a tight hug, their hand rubbing his lower back. The two stayed like that for awhile, Bernard softly weeping in Y/N arms, until Y/N slowly pulled away.

Their soft eyes looked to their lover, “You need to tell me what’s going on? Everything in the workshop is going great, darling. Talk to me.”

Bernard looked at his feet. He didn’t really know how to put all his thoughts and emotions into words. A shaky breath left his lips, “That’s the issues…” He heaved out, looking to meet Y/N confused face. “I-I don’t know, everything is going like to well…” Y/N hummed softly at what Bernard said. Bernard’s fear wasn’t silly and Y/N knew he just wanted to have a good Christmas this year. It’s a big job being head elf. Christmas was the last major holiday of the year, beside the New Years Eve. Bernard carried a heavy weight, his lover knew that.

“I see, you’re scared something is gonna go wrong…” Bernard nodded softly as Y/N took his hands in theirs, rubbing their thumb across Bernard’s calloused hands. “I understand where you’re coming from, love, I do…but nothing bad is gonna happen. It’s gonna be okay. Let yourself have this one, celebrate.” Y/N’s smile brightened up Bernard’s life, and their words never ceased to comfort him.

“Yeah…you’re right. Maybe I was being a little to…much.” Bernard softly chuckled, looking at his feet once more, and then back to Y/N.

“I don’t think you could ever be too much, or maybe I’m just biased.” Y/N soothed, letting go of one of Bernard’s hands so they could wipe his tear stained cheek. Bernard melted into the soft touch, his eyes fluttering close.

“Sometimes…everything is just so much…” Bernard murmured, his eyes slowly opening. “When I try to take a break, something always tells me how I should be doing more…” The head elf looked up to his lover with soft, tired eyes. “I’m just too soft for all of it.”

Y/N looked to Bernard, his eyes just as soft and tired as their lovers. “It’s okay, I’m right here. Whenever you need to run, just run home to me.” love pouring out in their words like sweet honey.

[not-so-lost-after-all]

There Are Worse Things I Could Do

This little thing is inspired by Dicken's A Christmas Carol and visions of the past, the present and the future - all of them dark. After all, a romance with Astarion can go so horribly, horribly wrong...

Warnings: Nothing major, I believe. Canon appropriate violence and angst.

Word count: 3000

---

It's pouring cold, almost freezing rain the whole afternoon and the day is dark and gloomy, so everyone retreats to their tents. They all have their own things to ponder, after all, as they're getting closer and closer to the city. Esipre is bone tired, as it seems she has nothing to show for her troubles except for the pile of corpses. Her companions put so much faith in her but ask so few questions. Perhaps she should run, it's still time...

She's observant and that was what actually more often than not made her the leader of whatever group she was part of - that doesn't mean she decided it's essential to keep them all alive. Take Astarion for example. It would be so easy to make him do her bidding, everytime, all it takes is a gentle push.

And yet... she treated him with kindness, like a feral cat who is most certainly won over through food and warm touch. She was a fool. They both were. During their first night in the forest, she was drunk but the second time she realized he was just going through the motions he did countless times before. Squeezing her nipple, then kissing her neck, his learned moans of pleasure. He had to do all kinds of work for his old master, Esipre gathered. She tried to please him too, as she learned during her short time at one brothel, and now she has to bitterly laugh about what they both were doing. Surely he must have noticed too but neither of them spoke about it.

When she offered him her blood on the fourth day in the Shadow-cursed Lands because she couldn't stand the thought of him starving, he gave her one surprisingly soft look and quietly thanked her. Esipre did it two more times and each time it took a bigger toll on her. Her fingers were randomly going numb, her mind hazy and the bite marks took longer to heal. Her vampire had the hilarious idea of offering her sex again.

"Oh please, be serious for a moment," she said sternly. "Don't insult my intelligence. Or yours. I'm not even what you want. Go flirt with Wyll or talk to Lae'zel about Soně glorious slaughter."

That wretched land was behind them but even almost a tenday later she mostly avoids him. She looks at her still unnaturally cold fingers and sighs. Perhaps it's been a mistake after all. She doesn't need distraction anymore, she needs to focus. Maybe they are both broken but some broken things are just too sharp. Perhaps he's a broken piece too but from a different puzzle.

Esipre is still standing in the entrance of her tent, watching the dark sky as the raindrops slowly turn into unexpected snow flakes. Then she notices her vampire eying her from across the camp, silently asking for her invitation. She quickly ponders it, then nods gently. Dammit, she can't ignore him forever.

Inside her tent, she is greeted by the silver light of the moonlanter. Esipre immediately notices two ripe red apples on her bedroll. There's also something artistically arranged lying under the apples - a beautiful wine red shawl embroidered with black thread. She kneels and takes the fabric in her hands with stupid smile on her face.

"You like it?" Astarion is kneeling right next her without her even noticing. And to her amusement, he grins like a proud cat.

"Of course. Was there crime involved while obtaining this beauty?"

"Ah. Maybe a little crime but nothing you should bother your lovely head with, darling." He grows more serious and suddenly seems to avoid her eyes. "You're almost as pale as I am and I can't exactly give you any warmth. Thought this could be a gift you wouldn't refuse. I don't want to lose my favorite food, you know."

Esipre presses the shawl to her chest, accepting it. No matter how impossible or annoying or irritating he can be, he's the first one who made her feel something so strongly in decades.

"It's alright when it's with you, my bloodthirsty friend," she says warmly. "Tomorrow you'll have the chance to rip throats again and leave my blood for the battlefield again. But thank you anyway." She feels a faint blush in her cheeks. She hasn't received any gifts since she was a child.

Astarion opens his mouth to say something but changes his mind. Instead he just takes her hand and kisses her knuckles. Then he brushes his lips over the soft skin on her wrist but Esipre doesn't even flinch.

They end up lying under two blankets although they have nothing to really offer to each other right now. It's foolish, she thinks, but she always turns to him like a moth to the fire.

The parasite behind her eye is especially restless tonight, probably getting upset that she hasn't used its power enough recently. As she's half asleep with a headache, the snowflakes are starting their silent dance in the darkness outside.

---

The first vision is from her past. Esipre feels the presence of her dream guardian in her mind. He looks and sounds like her noble father and the irony isn't lost on her. Papa never protected and in her head she knows that but she's always been bothered by her treacherous heart and her heart can't accept the truth.

It's still cold outside and it's snowing. Her body is her own but she's twelve years old. A pitiful dirty thing still dressed partly in her silky dress. Her mother tried to bribe her nurse to poison Esipre three nights ago and since then the girl has tried to ask family friends for protection. Her father sent a word, surely. But they all refused to shield her, this evening she visited the last person from her past.

Her heart is sinking and all she wants to do is to cry but she already knows that a crying girl on a dark street would meet the same fate as a noisy baby bird fallen out of its nest.

Suddenly there are two men moving across the street's corner. One of them is a heavily drunk human with tanned skin who can barely speak or walk. The other one is visibly much more collected silver haired elf. "Sure, sure, darling, let's hurry," says the elf impatiently and tries to push the human. It's enough for the other man to fall. "Fuck!" The elf kicks him in frustration but Esipre also senses some desperation in his voice.

Then he notices her and inclines his head. There's no warmth in his unsettling red eyes, nor his cruel smile. "Hello, little bird." She is preparing her muscles to run.

Her adult mind already knows how it's going to go. He's going to offer her some food and she's going to take the hook. Her child mind is scared and hungry and already ready to give up because she's weak and she knows it, everyone takes a look at her and knows it. Just a clueless lost girl standing there in the winter's night.

The elf takes her to the palace where she has her last meal with the man whose name her father mentioned several times in disgust before. Lord Szaar. He simply watches her, bemused, before suddenly taking her hand and piercing her wrist. She cries in pain and tries to free herself, kicking, screaming. Cazador Szaar just laughs at her feeble attempts, taking gulp after gulp. In the end, her cries turn into whimpers and her limbs go numb - it's like freezing to death on the street…

Except none of that happened. The elf with the silver curls grunts and grabs the lying human by the hand, roughly sweeping the pavement with his back. Espre runs to hide. Weak, helpless.

It doesn't  have to be this way, you know she hears the voice of her guardian in her head.

---

The next vision is quick and brutal.

She sees Astarion and his fangs above her neck and quickly pushes him away. She doesn't think, only acts on instinct, and they're both equally shocked when she plunges a wooden stick into his chest.

Esipre is sprayed with his thick blood and she thinks she'll never forget the look of betrayal he gives her when he's falling to his knees. "I'm sorry," she mutters. She's confused and angry - at him, at herself?

But no, he indeed is a vampire just as she suspected. Vampires do have the eyes of a wolf. Even their hearts are that of a wolf. Their beauty is just a sign of their sickness - the lack of a soul.

She leaves with the others in the morning, leaving his dead body behind. If any of them bothered to connect with his tadpole, they would know. Only Esipre tries, about an hour after they continue on their way. That vampire isn't really dead, just paralyzed. Not that it matters because like all the others, even his tadpole decides to leave when he's of no further use. He feels it crawling out of his eye socket and it makes his stomach turn. Hers too.

When his parasite is finally gone, his skins starts to burn and turn to ash and all he can do is to scream in his head. At the back of his mind, there's an insane laughter that at least he's dying free. His last thought is of the home with green doors from his childhood and the gulls over the stormy sea.

-That was empowering and felt good, no?

-No, it honestly was a bit… pathetic.

Esipre senses a wave of frustration from her guardian, she' lightheaded and everything goes black.

---

"I could have killed you, you bloody fool!"

And yet, when he boldly asks her to give him her blood freely, she relents, trusting that he's not foolish enough to harm her.

His fangs are like shards of ice into her neck and she grits her teeth. That's what she gets for her compassion but oh well, a bit of her blood is far more important for him than for her. Her pulse quickens and her heart is racing as it must pump her blood into two bodies now.

"Enough," Esipre says sharply when her mind becomes hazy.

But he doesn't stop, perhaps he even can't anymore. She tries to raise her rand but it's already too heavy, so heavy that Esipre just brushes the vampire's shoulder. Astarion pins her down and bites deeper into her neck.

"Astarion!" She tries to shout to wake the others but only some low screeching escapes her mouth. "You bastard..." Her voice is barely above a whisper. In the end, her death isn't painful, it's like falling into a dark cold lake and descending slowly to the bottom.

Her spirit lingers in the material world for some time out of spite. In the morning, Astarion is long gone. The others are bickering and almost leave her body just lying there but Wyll, bless his heart, volunteers to dig a shallow grave for her. It's actually Gale who saves the day by sacrificing himself. She has nothing to do with their victory, oh no.

As for Astarion, he's tortured to death by the Gur and later resurrected by his master only to be sacrificed in some hellish ritual. Used and discarded as always. If her soul wasn't on its way to the hells because she never got the chance to redeem herself, she would have felt a slightest glimmer of pity for him.

So this is what you prefer? Remember I tried to warn you every step of the way.

---

The next vision follows and this time there's nothing familiar about it. Surely it must be the future? It's all so confusing. The dim red light and the glass windows are strange and so is the feeling.

She took the power, for him and for herself. That much she is sure of.

Her lungs aren't working and when she tries, she remembers her last breath, then the quick torturous bang of her heart and... silence. It did hurt but the thought of him blatantly lying to her and that it's just the beginning? It hurt even more.

Months turned into years and years into decades. This was a moment to celebrate the death of duke Ravengard - a name that somehow ring a bell - and Astarion ordered that everyone should be merry. Did he order the murder of the duke too? Many things he just doesn't tell.

This celebration at the palace is one of hundreds she has attended, it was still the same on repeat. An eternity of fucking strangers in increasingly "creative" ways and watching him do the same (she vaguely remembered he thought himself a whore or was that just another trick of her mind so her delusions aren't shattered?). Of ever more unhinged bloody games. Of forcing people to pretend to love you. She blames herself for that. Now she understands that Astarion holds it against her too.

She was his first and favorite pet and perhaps if she thought clearly in that moment once upon time, she would understand that some people would find this existence a blessing but not her. Why are there scars made by a silver dagger on her hands and breasts like some mark of ownership when she's supposed to be powerful?

Esipre squeezes the hand of her lord and smiles at him like so many times before. Smiles as she's picturing the last words she's ever going to tell him before killing him tonight and taking his place. But of course he doesn't sense it, he's looking right through her.

All that time she is thinking: "Can you really see me now? Don't I remind you of someone? Someone you killed?

---

In her mind, she is yelling at her guardian. 

Enough! You advise me to take power? I will give you more than you bargained for!

Esipre is viciously pushing and kicking him in her head with all the power her tadpole is giving her and surprisingly, she is able to show him what she likes instead.

So she actually did that. She is the Absolute. Sitting on some goddamned throne in a dark massive room that resembles a temple. Everything she deserves for the life stolen from her and lost decades - Astarion would be proud. And he is standing next to her with hand on her shoulder. She helped him to ascend and Esipre still remembers his smile when she took the power, accepting her as his equal. And she is a benevolent ruler who only punishes those who don't understand her vision. 

What she sees should stop here. But Esipre knows that would be a lie. In the future, she turns her head to her consort and Astarion smiles at her with that smile they both know is fake. She now knows that she compelled all of her friends. Compelled him too and when digging deep enough into his mind, she finds out that she broke whatever was left of his heart and his soul. She gave him hope, gave him power, only to replace his former master - and this time there are no illithids to save him. Telling him he can say no but she is doing so with a wicked smile. Astarion is still performing - he knows it and knows she knows and she knows he knows that too. And sometimes when she looks over her shoulder and the curtain is down, his face and eyes are unmoving and dead tired. Like a man who got his second chance and ruined that one just as surely.

The giant hall is empty except the two of them - or so she thought. A bright lightning from one of the balconies hits her right side and strikes her down. Her body feels like burning as she's lying on the stone floor. HELP ME! She orders Astarion.

She senses no resistance from him, of course, and as she turns her head in his direction when he's not coming to her rescue, she sees him chained by his hand to the leg of her throne. The handcuffs are made of silver and he's struggling against them as they're burning his flesh. Astarion can't touch them, of course, only let them burn through his hand. But by then, she'll be long dead. 

He is complicit in all this, she realizes immediately. Even in her pain, she can't help but nod to him with respect. As she loses consciousness, she can hear him laughing. The last thing she sees is him glancing at the night sky and its stars through the glass ceiling. “Make a wish,” he laughs. He laughs until he cries…

Esipre is in the dark again and her visitor is no longer with her. Before the connection is no longer here, she can catch a glimpse of yet another visions. She dies grey haired and wrinkled in the arms of her vampire and asks him to forgive her for failing him. She still prefers this vision. Then she sees herself dying in a pool of blood hand in hand with Astarion after what she suspects was an ambush. His eyes are not ruby red but emerald green. It is alright though, as this is still several centuries into the future…

She is half conscious and aware that she's sleeping in her tent, feeling cold tears in the corners of her eyes. 

---

To her surprise, Astarion stayed with her the whole night for the first time. “Morning, sweetheart. It was an uneasy night, I suppose?”

“Just some nightmares.” Her heart is not so heavy just looking at him. “And it made the things I want a little bit more clear.”

By the sunrise the thin layer of snow outside has already melted. During the day she notices Astarion giving her some sort of guilty look.

“Do you have a moment?” is the first thing he tells her after everyone else went to sleep.

There's this strange vulnerability in his expression and Esipre already knows that whatever he's about to say, she's going to listen with an open mind.

Tagged:

@spacebarbarianweird

@lirotation

[hom3landr]

20 pls❤️❤️❤️

Your coworkers teased you incessantly for your schoolgirl crush on THE Homelander. You were just a simple PA and you knew he was unlikely to give you a second glance unless it was to send you on an errand. That didn’t stop you from pining after him. Something about his sheer presence made your knees all shaky and weak. You had to fetch him a script once and his short tone did nothing to lessen the heat in your cheeks and the flutter of your heart.

So when you were invited to the Vought Christmas party and not just to work the event, you wonder if this is your chance. So you pick out your nicest clothes and doll yourself up so that you look like a million bucks. You’re going to talk to him tonight, even if it’s just to tell him what an inspiration he is to you. In your wildest fantasies you imagine charming him so much that he takes you to bed. You’d settle for him gracing you with one of his million watt smiles.

But despite all your hopes, you find yourself hovering near the edges of the party, understanding now that inviting you was a cruel joke. You don’t belong here. Nobody has even given you a second glance. You’re still just a PA, even when off the clock. You don’t want to mope, so when you hear someone come up behind you, you assume it’s a waiter, and you turn to grab a glass of champagne. Alcohol tends to make these things easier. So imagine your surprise when you’re greeted with the man who has had your mind in a tizzy for weeks.

He’s so handsome up close that it is physically painful. His gaze is…a little condescending but mostly curious. He doesn’t recognize you but he can’t help investigating the sweet little thing who’s been hovering in the shadows all night. When he sees the subtle way your eyes dilate at his proximity, he knows he’s made the right decision. This boring corporate snoozefest might have just taken a turn in a much more interesting direction.

You’re at a loss for words but it doesn’t matter. Because Homelander simply points up and chuckles. When you follow his finger, your heart abruptly turns over in your chest at the sight of a small sprig of mistletoe hanging from the light fixture about the two of you. He hasn’t even asked your name when he gently grasps your chin and tugs your gaze to meet his.

“May I? It is tradition” He says teasingly, but with more than a hint of sincerity. He’s pulling out all the stops because he does remember you now. He’s seen you before, sending him shy glances as you run around doing petty tasks. You're beneath him sure, but you’re cute and he could use a new toy to play with. So when you give him a flustered nod, he grins cheerfully but with all the self satisfaction of a lion with its prey already trapped under its claws.

He leans in and places a gentle kiss on your lips, featherlight and so soft that once it’s over you’re not even sure it really happened. You’re just tipsy enough that this will not do. So now it’s your turn to surprise him when you cradle his face in your hands and gently tug him down for another. You know this is only happening because he’s letting you and that thought sends a frisson of electricity down your spine. He’s pleasantly surprised by your boldness and rewards you by gently tugging your bottom lip between his teeth, sliding his tongue against yours with a practiced ease when a sigh slips past your lips. He’s intoxicating, guiding the kiss with a confidence that leaves you shaking. Neither of you pull away until your need for air forces you to break the kiss.

“You may.” You reply cheekily, still breathless from the intensity of the kiss. For a moment you think he might kiss you again. His gaze is heavy-lidded and hazy. His thumb strokes your cheek for a second as he takes in the sight of you completely undone by him. But before you can even comprehend what happened, he’s disappeared back into the throng of party guests. You never even told him your name.

You’re not sure how long you stand there, hoping for him to come back and kiss you again, but the room slowly starts to empty. You know it’s time for you to head home as well but when you take a step you realize that your knees are still wobbly and weak. Your face ignites as what happened truly hits you. It’s your own little Cinderella story. The lowly servant gets invited to the ball and kisses a prince. So even if you never talk to him again, you’ll remember this night for the rest of your life.

(It’s a good thing that Homelander definitely plans on seeing you again)

[justplainwhump]

Season's Greetings

After last week's poll (thank you so much to everyone who participated!), here's the Christmas special for 238/training!Angel.

This is dedicated to and inspired by @angst-after-dark, Thane Barlow is their character.

As to be expected, it is pretty much leaning into smut. Enjoy!

[Making Angel]

Content/warnings: BBU, facility whump, institutional whump, nsfwhump, recorded whump, dubcon use of toys, male whumpers with female whumpee, whumper pov.

Walking through the hallways of facility 002 before Christmas was special, somehow. Even without any decoration among the sterile white, there was a festive mood to be felt, just from the way the handlers smiled when they greeted each other, or the spring to their steps.

The trainees wouldn't get any gifts for Christmas.

But the employees, they did.

As head handler, Jared Grimm had introduced various employee benefits; one of them a very popular Christmas tombola. Not everyone could get the main prize - taking home a pet over the holidays - especially not given the often more delicate nature of facility 002's acquisitions, but there were several more prizes: a full cleaning of the home before the relatives arrived, catering for Christmas dinner, a full styling and hairdo, all declared part of the facility's Domestics' training, all doing wonders for the workplace climate.

And there was of course, another choice group to receive Christmas gifts. Clients. Pretty much every case they handled in facility 002 was personal, meaningful for the prospective owners, and insanely price, too.

Personally tailored Season's Greetings were the least the facility could do.

Jared looked down at the instructions on his tablet. Alex had prepared a little script for each of the greetings. 238's prospective was to get a video. Technically, her primary handlers was meant to speak the opening words, but Alan Nguyen hadn't as much glanced at the notes, just lifted the Santa hat with two fingers and handed it back to Jared. "I did my professional due. Humiliating the girl. I will not humiliate myself for that douche and be his clown in a Santa hat. You do that alright."

Jared rolled his eyes. Arrogant douche himself. But Jared couldn't afford to annoy him - plus, he was the best handler they had, and there could be worse than spending some quality time with one of his trainees.

He pulled the hat over his head and nodded at the cameraman, waiting for his prompt to start speaking. "Good day, Mr Barlow! I'm Jared Grimm, WRU head handler, and it's my honor to send you Christmas greetings in the name of the entire company! We have a little something prepared for you behind this door, in honor of holiday season! Let's have a look!"

Jared got how it could feel little degrading indeed, playing the cheerful entertainer, but he was a WRU handler - he'd gone through worse for a lot less.

The door opened at a swipe of his card with a beep and a click, and cameraman panned to the door, filming through the crack where the dim flicker of christmas lights filled the room.

Angel, Alex had noted. Client seems to like angel analogies for this product (quote: "Make her be my Angel, and make her love it").

And they had taken this literally today.

Jared stared for a second, giving the cameraman time to slowly, carefully catch every detail of 238's flawless presentation.

She was wearing sheer white lingerie, that covered nothing yet emphasised everything. Her golden hair was curled into soft locks and crowned with a glittering halo, and small feathery wings strapped to her back over a short golden cape. Golden glitter was applied to her body as well, shimmering on her collarbone and chest.

She smiled at Jared, flirtatious and confident, curving her body in just the right ways for the camera to catch her.

She didn't kneel, though, to his slight dismay. It made sense for the order, of course. A luxury pet. For a demanding client.

Jared was a stranger to her - and she wouldn't kneel for just anyone.

"Well, good day, 002238," Jared said. There wasn't a script for her. Trainees didn't need to be told to act. Their entire being was a performance, and he expected her to excel at it. "You're special, aren't you? A very precious, very special pet for a very special owner." He reached out to clip a golden leash to the soft golden leather collar around her neck. (Prospective: "She will look better in a leash.")

"Of course I am," she whispered, and Jared was struck by the perfect counterpoints of the almost confident smile tugging at her lip and her gaze devoutly cast down. "I'm special for you, and I will be perfect for my owner."

Jared felt the pinpricks of an urge to discipline her, make her perfect for himself. It was part of her configuration of course, just like the part about not kneeling. A slight air of arrogance, but always submissive to her owner - and only him. Showing off her master's luxury.

Nguyen had outdone himself.

"You will be," Jared assured her, lifting her chin towards him. Glitter was smeared over her cheeks, too, sparkling between her freckles. "You're a beautiful product. Why don't you smile at the camera, tell your owner yourself? Season's greetings."

A soft blush blossomed on her cheeks underneath the gold, perfectly crafted, and still so natural. "He's... is he watching?"

"He is," Jared said.

Shivering, she sank to her knees. "Happy holidays, Sir," she whispered into the camera. "I can't wait to be yours."

"Why don't you show him just how much?"

"How?" She looked up at him, her dark eyes seeming even deeper among all the glitter.

"Get... Get on that table, 238." Jared didn't even try to hide the hoarse roughness tinting his voice. The product worked. It was always something else, if you hadn't trained them yourself. Even after more than two decades on the job, feeling that power over the entirety of another human was thrilling.

She got to her feet, with a grace that would seem natural to any outsider but perfectly matched that of any other WRU product, and swung herself on the edge of the table, legs dangling, upper body leaning backwards, presenting her cute breasts once more.

Jared's own trainees, back in the day, would've all been trained to be on their back already, presenting a whole different view.

This one was still keeping eye contact. Not with Jared, though. With the camera. "I hope I fullfil everything you desire." Her voice was tinted with arousal, and Jared couldn't even tell if it was fake or real. It didn't matter. Her hand ran over her body, playing with the straps tied around her, fingers idly circling her nipples.

The cameraman shifted his weight nervously, pressed his thighs together, and Jared smirked. She worked just as she should.

"Here," he mumbled, as he stepped in with the finishing decor - golden clamps, adorned with tiny bells that jingled when he fixed them to her nipples. The noise was lovely, but even more so was her sharp little gasp.

"238 isn't trained for pain," Jared said to the camera. "But she promised us, she'll take it for you."

"Anything," 238 said. "I love you, Sir. I love to be whatever you want me to be. I'm ready."

They hadn't told her to say that. Or what to do. But as any well trained Romantic should, when told to perform while none of her betters made a move, she did it on her own. She let herself sink onto her back on the padded table - finally - crossed her hands above her head and slowly, almost teasingly, opened her legs. This time, the gasp came from the camera man, staring at the diamond nestled in between her folds.

Jared bit back a chuckle. Yeah. That one was a sight.

"Good girl," he murmured, reaching for the seasonal fastenings he'd brought - a rough rope, entwined with fairy lights - and fixated her ankles to the table before he moved on to bind her hands above her head. "You'll be so good for your owner."

Still standing behind her head, he pulled a vibrator from his pocket, as golden as herself, and presented it to the camera. "Mr Barlow, here's your gift. The card we delivered to you held a small golden controller. Would you push the upper button on it?"

It took a moment, before the vibrator hummed to life in Jared's hand.

The pet shivered at the noise, already conditioned so perfectly, and a soft jingle sounded from the bells on her.

"And now press the other?"

238 back arched, and she let out a surprised cry of pain, the bells rattling.

Jared reached out and ran a caressing finger over her breast. "There's electrodes in the clamps, at your free disposal."

Jared pulled back his hand a second up late, when she seizured again, his hand thrumming with the remainder of a tiny shock. Seemed like the owner's kind of humor. Great then. He'd hopefully enjoy this whole display.

"Be good, 238," Jared whispered to her. "He's watching."

The vibrator was buzzing in his hand, wildly alive, as he slid it into her with practised ease.

She was wet already. If Jared assessed correctly, she'd stay so for a long, long while. Her owner wouldn't make this easy for her.

But then again, that was exactly what they'd made her for.

Jared waved at the camera, now mounted on a tripod. "Merry Christmas, Mr Barlow. We'll leave you to it in private now."

The cameraman swallowed, as he stepped back, wiping his palms on his pants. "You can wait in the observation room," Jared said to him, quietly enough for the camera not to catch their voices. "There's tissues, if you need them."

Jared might tune into the livestream from his office he thought. Or not. After all, he'd definitely be the one to get the privilege of being with 238 after Barlow was done. He preferred being the only one in charge.

He pulled off the Santa hat and ruffled a hand through his hair, ignoring the pet's moans behind him. As he followed the cameraman outside and raised his card to lock the door, the last thing he heard was the pet's sincere whisper.

"I love you, Sir."

[goodnitedrdead]

winter falls

Colonel Carrillo x Reader

Summary: winter blows again, and time has flown by. Colonel Carrillo never thought he'd be fearing the solitude that came with the season. Just as he thought he was about to fall apart, you rush in to keep him together. To help scare away the tormenting thoughts that were haunting him, you decided to take him out for a walk surrounded by the bright Christmas lights that adorned the local plaza.

Word Count: 5.8k (not bad for a girl with no talent)

Warnings: Carrillo lives. Slight/mild PTSD from the night Escobar shot him. Talks about divorce. Intrusive thoughts. Lonely holiday time. Talks about religion. Emotional infidelity, I guess? Lots of feelings. Fluff. Angst with an... okay ending?

Author's Note: don't let the kpop icon scare you, ok? pls be kind to me this is the second fic I've ever written, I'd really appreciate the feedback. ALSO, I am absolutely in love with the colonel. Inspiration for this came from the song Winter Falls by Stray Kids. I recommend looking up the lyric translation because I tried to include them through the fic, but it's not required. THANK YOU FOR READING!!! IT MEANS A LOT TO ME. MWAH TO ALL THOSE WHO WILL READ THIS <3 also, i cross posted this on ao3 in case y'all would like to follow me there, I know sometimes Tumblr tends to be... mean.

IF YOU HAVE ANY REQUESTS FOR THE COLONEL PLS SEND THEM MY WAY.

Colonel Carrillo didn’t fear many things. Hell, he didn’t even fear death itself. But recently, as the nights got longer and the temperatures started to drop, he started to know fear. The thing that embarrassed him the most was that it was an intangible fear. It wasn’t the bullets that flew left and right past him as he was in the streets of Colombia. It wasn’t the sicarios that etched the notorious Colonel’s name in their minds, hiding in the shadows waiting to pounce and take his life. It wasn’t the blood, nor the warzone he lived in day in and day out. No, it wasn’t any of that. Horacio Carrillo was afraid of desolation.

He thought he’d have more time to get used to it. As he awoke one day from being in a coma for who knows how long, he found his wife by his side. He felt a sense of relief, there was somebody there to greet him back to the realm of the living. There was someone who yearned for his existence. Someone that prayed for his return. Someone that needed him.

That feeling was short-lived as he woke one day and noticed she was gone. Divorce papers waiting on the table by his side, along with a long letter explaining her decision. 

Days, weeks, months passed as he went through numerous sessions of physical therapy. He felt a broken man. A once fearsome and lethal man… and now just a man trying to learn simple tasks like if he were a child.

When Escobar shot him, the news of Colonel Horacio Carrillo’s death spread like wildfire. However, thanks to Trujillo, one of the few survivors of the ambush that day, he was rushed to the hospital. Fortunately, the bullets had missed all the important parts of him. Of course there was damage, but little by little, thanks to the help of the doctors, nurses, therapists and everyone in between, the Colonel was able to make it. 

Oh how he wished he would’ve been left to die.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

He was raised a catholic man. His family never missed mass on Sundays, no matter how much anyone protested. He’ll admit, there were times when he hated it. He doubted the existence of God. He doubted the existence of la Virgen. He doubted the existence of any omnipotent presence because if anyone in this universe existed, men like Escobar would be brought to justice. 

As he laid on the cold concrete that day, he recited a prayer. A simple prayer, asking for forgiveness for his sins and whatnot. To be completely honest he didn’t even believe the words that he was saying. The overwhelming taste of blood in his mouth bothered him, and kept interrupting his prayer. Now, as the devil himself stood above him, he started to see his life flash before him. Once again, death itself didn’t scare him. He was ready to welcome it, in fact. Unfortunately he couldn’t even focus on that when someone else was occupying his mind. He felt a bit guilty, to be honest. He thought of his wife, Juliana. He thought of his children. He thought of the pain they’d have to endure because of his death. He thought of his mother. How his dear mother would grieve the death of his son. She would always voice her worries to him, but he always reassured her that nothing would ever happen to him. Until Escobar happened, then Horacio started to keep quiet. His reassurances to his whole family turned into nothing but silence. He kept thinking of his family, and he wished that was the extent of who he kept thinking.

That wasn’t the case.

You kept invading his mind like poison. In fact, that’s exactly how you slowly started to infiltrate his every thought. It was one of the biggest mistakes of his life, accepting you into the Search Bloc team. From the very first moment he laid eyes on you, he knew he had broken his sacred vows. He never did anything to you, he kept the relationship professional. Actually, he tried his best to avoid having any ties to you, but due to the nature of your job, it was almost impossible. No matter what he did, no matter where he turned, no matter where he went you always followed. It was as if a snake bit him, and little by little you started to take over every part of him. The poison coursed through his bloodstream, intoxicating him as it spread to every inch of his very being . 

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

 The last few months leading up to his ‘death,’ he spent it at the office. It was during those months where Juliana started to doubt their marriage. Long hours away from home, the pressure and torment that rested upon Horacio’s shoulders, the way Escobar was draining him little by little started to affect Juliana. She didn’t know when this was going to come to an end. If there was even an end. What about when Escobar was caught? Who will follow? She will know no peace next to Horacio. Their children will know no peace next to their father. Not anymore. 

He’d once promised her it wouldn’t always be like this. But unfortunately, she knew that promise would not be fulfilled.

So when she received news that he was caught up in an ambush, she felt life escape her. She regretted ever thinking that. But, as the months passed and she was informed that her husband had made it after all, she felt a tightness in her chest. 

When she saw him there, almost lifeless, she begged God for forgiveness. She begged God for forgiveness for what she had in mind. It’s not that she didn’t love him, no that wasn’t the case at all. But she did not want to live in a constant state of fear. She did not want to get caught up in the war that followed him. So when he woke one day, she allowed herself a few days to feel out her emotions. But, seeing as how close he had come to dying, she came to a conclusion. She had to put herself first. She had to put her children first… and that’s what she did. She had no time to think as she placed the divorce papers on the table next to his bed. She reached into her purse, pulled out the letter that she hoped he’d read, and rested it on top of the papers that were about to end it all. Slowly, she leaned down and kissed his forehead. Disculpame, cariño. 

Now, as the nights got longer and the winds grew colder, he found himself in the position he feared the most. Horacio Carrillo was alone. 

The fact that it was nearing Christmas was worse. He always thought he’d have more time to get used to it. But it was one of those things that he shoved to the back of his mind as he tried to get himself back together. It caught up to him though, and now there was nothing he could do to make peace with solitude. 

The war had been won, to an extent. Escobar was dead. The Cali godfathers were a distant threat. Colombia was starting to get well acquainted with peace. The Americans were still infiltrating his life. That was starting to become the norm for him. 

He was definitely not sure why they had wanted him back. After he was discharged from the hospital and he was able to walk again and become a fraction of what he used to be, he was offered the same position. The same position, minus the physical aspect. Now, he had to hide behind his office and bark orders at men and wait for reports of how stakeouts and raids went. This isn’t how he wanted to live. 

It was starting to get late. The building was starting to empty out quickly as the weekend before Christmas arrived. Carrillo looked out his office to find you on your desk. Murphy sat atop the files you had laid out on the table, throwing a ball of paper into the air before catching it and repeating the same motions. You sat on your chair, a smile adorning your face as you talked about nonsense with Murphy, Peña, and Trujillo. Carrillo felt a ping of jealousy sting him. He wished he would have that same smile directed towards him. He wished that smile was reserved for him and him only. 

See, from the moment you joined the team you became a huge distraction for the Colonel. Your bright eyes, full of wonder and curiosity. Your smile, radiant as the sun and contagious to everyone around you. Your laugh, oh how your laugh was music to his ears. Your hair, the way it framed your beautiful face and left a haunting yet comforting trail of your scent as you walked past him. The way you were friendly with everyone around you and provided everyone that crossed your path with a sense of comfort. The unforgiving way you lit up any room you walked in to.

You were transferred to Colombia from Juarez. You had arrived at the same time, if not a bit after Agent Murphy. Unlike Steve and Javier, you were not a pain in his ass. Carrillo felt a tad bit of hostility towards the gringos, but never to you. Well, you weren’t really considered one to him. He’d come to learn that you were born and partly raised in Mexico, you became an American citizen when you were a teenager. He thought that must’ve been hard for you, leaving your home country and trading it for one that was so… hostile. Carrillo always thought America was like a wild bull, untamable and stubborn. That was one of the many things he’d come to admire about you: the way you’d easily adjust to the situation around you, no matter what it was.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Outside the church, you leaned on your forearms against the side of the car, aimlessly tracing the letters on the hood of the beat up police car. Steve leaned with his back against the bumper of the car while Peña and Carrillo questioned where Javier’s informant was. Helena, you recalled Javier sharing her name with the Colonel. You listened to their conversation in Spanish, and you assumed it was because they were trying to hide something from Steve and yourself.

You didn’t really care if they were trying to hide something. You understood every word they were saying, though they did not have a clue you were fluent in the language. Steve, however… 

You felt so bad for the poor man. A white man in a foreign country, with no concept or knowledge of the language, much less the culture. You felt the need to approach him and inform him of the conversation he was excluded from, but you stopped yourself when you heard the men start to question your presence. 

“¿y la chica?”  

“No, ella se queda con Murphy. Será mucho para ella,” you heard Javier say. Carrillo asked Javier about you, and Peña, most likely thinking you were some sort of fragile porcelain doll, told him you were to stay with Steve. Asshole, you thought to yourself. You looked at both of the men, and heard Javier say, “you two stay here and see if she comes back, okay?”

With that you saw as they both got onto a truck and left, leaving you and Murphy to stare at each other in confusion. 

Time passed and you two decided to get acquainted with one another. You learned Steve was born in Tennessee but grew up in West Virginia. He told you all about his career, how he ended up in Colombia, and the love of his life who waited for him back at the house. You smiled at the way he talked about her. You didn’t really believe in true love, but the way Steve was expressing himself about Connie? You might start to actually believe it. 

The church bells started to toll, and Steve let out a yawn. He excused himself for a moment before he walked to the driver’s side of the car. With a soft knock on the windshield, he approached the officer that sat at the wheel. 

“Any news on the radio?” Steve asked.

“¿Le digo?” The soldier asked his partner. 

“No. Acuérdese lo que dijo Carrillo,” The soldier replied to his partner, eyeing Steve cautiously. 

“Perdón, pero yo no hablo inglés,” The soldier on the driver seat told Steve. An apologetic smile on his face.

Steve sighed. With a frustrated huff he walked back next to you and leaned against the car.

“Nothing yet. Can’t believe they left us behind just like that,” Steve told you while he pulled a cigarette out of the pocket of his jacket.

“There’s something they don't want us to know. Carrillo’s men clearly have instructions to not share any information with either of us. Might want to start questioning who we got as partners,” you told him.

As you lit the cigarette Steve offered you, you noticed how he looked at you confused. 

“What makes you say that?” He asked you.

You shrugged and exhaled the smoke from your cigarette slowly, “I understood what they were saying. One of Carrillo’s men said to remember what he’d told them. That sounds like they’re withholding their whereabouts.”

Steve let out a chuckle. “You know Spanish? How come you never said anything?”

You smirked and shrugged again, “Nobody ever asked. My superiors know, that’s what matters.”

“Remind me to keep you around me as a translator then,” Steve smiled at you.

“Oh honey, I am more than just a translator.”

And that’s how Steve learned about your past. Where you were born, where you came from, what got you to this place. From that moment on, you made an agreement with Murphy that you’d help him with the language. Maybe not with the teaching, but letting him know what those around him would say. 

So long as he didn’t tell Peña or Carrillo that you knew Spanish. You wanted to see how far this little game could go.

Carrillo’s men eventually called the both of you and took you to where Peña and the Colonel were. Steve got out of the car frustrated, immediately asking where Peña was. When you saw he stormed towards both men, you got out of the car. You gave a brief ‘thank you’ to the men that drove you there and tried to catch up with Steve. 

When you got there you heard Steve and Javier speaking about Helena. How she was and if she was gonna be okay. As you listened and looked between the both of them, you felt a strong pair of eyes on you. You shifted your gaze and found the Colonel looking at you. You weren’t gonna deny it, his stare was overwhelming. If he would’ve been any other man, or any other person you worked with, you wouldn’t have thought anything of it. However, the fact that they both left you behind on purpose stirred frustration within you. 

You stared back at him, no intention of backing down from this silent challenge. You thought it might’ve been a meaningless action, but you hoped it got the message across. You weren’t going to give in. Not to him. Not to anybody. There was a reason you were sent down here, and you were here to stay as long as they needed you. 

Eventually Carrillo lowered his gaze. He’d never admit it but he felt small in your presence. Your gaze was soft. Stern, but somehow tender. And that’s what made him uncomfortable. You weren’t just looking at him. You were looking at him. Through him. That made him uncomfortable. That was the moment when he knew you weren’t just going to be another member of the team. And he’d start to regret laying his eyes on you, for it was going to be impossible to get you out of his mind. 

“You left me behind on purpose,” Murphy exclaimed to Javier. 

“Look, man–” Javier started to explain. More than likely it was gonna be some bullshit excuse as to why he abandoned you both.

“If we’re gonna be partners, I don’t get left behind. We don’t get left behind. We didn’t come all the way down here, Peña, to sit on the fucking sidelines.”

Javier looked at Steve and then to you. You gave him a simple nod, signifying that you completely agreed with your companion. You didn’t come here to waste your time. 

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

It was late. Nearing midnight. Yet, Colonel Carrillo sat still in his office. The soft ticking of the clock on the wall became louder each time. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to go home. He couldn’t even call it home anymore. The empty structure that held so many memories, so much warmth and love now turned into an unwelcoming and haunted place. The ghost of the memories he shared with his family. 

His mind started to betray him. He thought of the man he used to be. The collected, composed, and stoic Colonel Horacio Carrillo. Leader of the Search Bloc. Escobar’s nightmare.

Now? A broken man with broken dreams. 

He felt the walls he built around himself start to crack.

It’s not like he did it on purpose, as a military man it was more of a requirement. And he wasn’t always like this. 

He ran his hands through his hair and sighed. Keep it together, Horacio. He thought to himself. The rampage of his ongoing self-sabotaging thoughts were interrupted by a series of laughs that came from outside his office. He stood up and walked towards the door, he stopped in his tracks when he found you shoving Agent Peña away from you. The laughter that came out of you was angelical to him. 

Peña, Murphy, and Trujillo looked up at the Colonel, and immediately quieted down. At the sudden change in atmosphere, you turned and followed their gaze and found none other than the Colonel looking at all of you. 

“Carrillo, we were just going to go out for some drinks. Care to join us?” Asked Murphy. 

The Colonel politely declined the offer but wished them a good time. He saw as all three men walked away, waving their goodbyes to you. You turned to settle back into your chair and looked up at the Colonel. 

“You’re not going to join them?” He asked you curiously.

“No, I’m okay. Not really in the mood to join them. I spend enough time with them as it is,” you smiled at him.

He couldn’t even begin to describe the feeling that engulfed him at seeing you smile directly at him. 

He nodded. 

“Shouldn’t you be going home, then?” He asked you once again.

You shook your head. Sure, it could be the weekend and all but you knew if you went home it’d just be a long episode of absolute boredom. Maybe you’d consider joining your friends for a drink.

“Very well then,” he said to you. With a small turn he went back into his office and sat on his chair.

Fuck. He thought. Had you really just smiled at him? He felt like an idiot. He felt like a teenage boy all over again when their crush would spare a glance at their direction.  Keep it together, Horacio. For fuck’s sake. 

He didn’t know long he stayed that way. His face burrowed in his hands. His elbows deeply planted on the surface of his desk. His tormenting thoughts were back. 

Good for nothing. You couldn't even take down Escobar, yourself. The whole nation calls you a hero but that’s not who you actually are. Murderer. Colonel Martinez is ten times better a man than you are, pendejo. You should've died that day. Trujillo should've left you to die--

His body gently started to shake as he remembered Pablo looming above his body. Darkness started to surround him. The agonizing piercing pain of the first bullet Pablo shot at his body. He remembers he didn’t even make a sound when the bullet entered him. He couldn’t give Escobar the satisfaction. 

A knock at his door snapped him out of it.

He looked up to find you, eyes full of concern for him. 

“Everything okay, Colonel?” you asked him. Your tone barely above a whisper. 

He stayed silent as he averted his eyes to his lap. He tried to breathe, but he felt as if he were frozen, under the ice. No matter how hard he hit the layer of ice he was trapped under, it wouldn’t break and he was about to drown. He tried taking another breath, but the oxygen wouldn’t reach his lungs. He slowly started to get pulled deeper and deeper into the depths of the unforgiving arctic, not knowing if he’d ever make it back.

He suddenly felt tears stain his cheeks. The cracks of the walls started to get bigger and bigger, and he knew he was at his breaking point. 

At the sight of the poor man before you, you rushed to his side. You didn’t know what to do. You didn’t know what was acceptable to do. Surely your eyes were playing tricks with you. The rigid man you always knew was shattering before you. So you did what you’d never thought you’d ever do.

You wrapped your arms tightly around him. 

Every single moment after that kept coming as a surprise for you. 

You held him tightly as he sobbed in your arms. His body shook with every gasp he took. You’re not sure how you both ended up on the floor, but the fact of the matter was that he was still in your arms. You were awkwardly sitting with one leg tucked underneath you and the other extended to the side to accommodate the Colonel’s body into yours. You started to stroke his hair and run your fingers through it absentmindedly. Wondering what had brought him to this point. 

Whatever it was you wished you could take it all away. Truth be told you had developed feelings for the man that seemed to not have any. You loved the way he carried himself. Always so full of confidence. You particularly loved that he was such an ass. All because you knew he wasn’t really like that. It was all a show. You just knew there was a playful and gentle man behind the mask of what was Colonel Horacio Carrillo. You knew there was a man worth loving.

You also knew he was married before, so you kept your distance. Always tried keeping it professional. But you’d be a damn liar if you said you wouldn’t go out of your way to make sure the Colonel noticed you. Not in a cringe way, you were slightly younger than him, so you didn’t want to embarrass yourself. Plus, he was married. You weren’t about to become a home wrecker, but the feelings you developed for him weren’t harming anyone but yourself. You could live with that. 

You weren’t an idiot either. You’d sometimes notice the way his gaze would linger on you a little bit longer than other people. The way sometimes he’d use a softer tone with you. The way he’d, although very rarely, would give you the smallest of smiles. This would cause you to go home at the end of the night and smile to yourself like a teenage girl while you attempted to sleep. Maybe it was all in your head, but it made going to work worthwhile. 

As the Colonel slowly came back to his senses, he started to pull himself away from you. He gave you an apologetic look that shattered your heart. It’s okay, you wanted to tell him, I got you.

“I am sorry, agent. I do not know what came over me,” he said as he wiped his nose. Gosh, he felt so stupid. A broken man that was falling apart in the arms of the person who was not supposed to see this side of him.

“No se disculpe, coronel. No hay por qué pedir perdón,” you told him with the softest tone you could muster. You were saying the truth though, there was absolutely no reason for him to apologize. He had done nothing wrong.

Carrillo had once heard that people expressed their feelings better in a different language than their mother tongue. This was due to the fact another language served as a distraction from their actual feelings. So although you were both fluent in Spanish, he felt safer communicating with you in english. If he would’ve been within his five senses, he would’ve started questioning you about the language you replied to him in. 

Horacio took a deep breath and felt the oxygen reach his lungs this time. Your scent filled his system and he felt like he had broken through the ice that trapped him. His head was above the water now.

You both stayed sitting on the floor, at this point you decided to cross your legs and get into a more comfortable position across from him. He sat with his back against the drawers of his desk, his feet planted on the floor and his knees bent. He ran his hands up and down the expanse of his legs slowly, as if he were trying to comfort himself. 

“I am going to be honest with you, agent. I have not been well. I know there’s been… talk. About me, about what happened to me after Escobar, about my life,” he sighed and tried to think of the point he wanted to make, if there was even one. Truth be told, if you had already seen him cry, hell, what else could he lose by sharing a bit of what was on his mind. “My wife left me after I woke up from… the aftermath. I do not blame her, I hold no negative feelings towards her. But I have found myself in a position that I did not prepare for. The days get shorter and the nights get longer..”

You gave him a small nod to indicate that you were listening to him. Gosh, you could listen to him even if there were a million people around you talking all at once. Only him. 

“... Time has passed and everyone except me has changed. I–I am lonely to the point of pain,” he continued. His voice is slow and soft, but the unsteadiness in it was hard to miss.

You took in a deep breath and looked around you, trying to find the right words to say. Trying to find the perfect words for him, because you truly believed if this man asked you for the world right now, you’d find a way to get him the damn universe. 

“I can’t say I understand what you’re going through, Colonel–”

“Horacio,” he interrupted you, “please call me Horacio.”

You gave him a gentle smile before continuing, “Horacio. I can’t say I understand what you’re going through because I have never gone through that myself. However, I can understand your loneliness. But the thing is,” you threaded lightly, because you still didn’t know what was acceptable in this situation, “you don’t have to be. Look, I know it’s hard and all but you somewhat have a second family here. Agent Peña, Agent Murphy, your soldiers… me.”

Horacio Carrillo felt a jolt of electricity run through his body as you looked at him. Truly looked at him. Your own intense eyes focusing on his own. He felt you were a storm. A storm with the darkest of skies and the heaviest of rains that could somehow lullaby him into the most relaxing sleep of his life. 

“Did Martinez… was he a good leader?” he asked, tears once again threatening to fill his eyes.

You let out a soft laugh and looked at your legs. Was he questioning the leadership style of Colonel Martinez because he was… insecure? Was Colonel Horacio Carrillo, the daring leader everyone came to know, insecure? Was he really comparing himself to Martinez?

“Colonel Martinez was good. A very respectable man. But,” you looked back up to him and scooted a bit closer to him, “he wasn’t you. I don’t think there’s any man in the world that would be able to fill your shoes.” You weren’t referring to the previous Colonel’s leadership style. No, this was personal.

He scoffed softly and rolled his eyes. He didn’t mean to do this in a rude way, but he felt you were just saying this out of pity. 

“I am just a fraction of the man Hugo Martinez is,” he said coldly. 

“This isn’t about who’s a bigger or better man, Horacio. Sure, under Martinez’s leadership we were able to bring down Pablo. But at the end of the day, you were the one that haunted Escobar’s dreams. You led one of Colombia’s most important unit. Colonel Martinez continued what you started,” you grabbed his face in your hands and let your thumbs stroke his cheeks. The rough feeling of the stubble that was beginning to grow under your fingers. “Did you hear that? What you, Horacio Carrillo, started.”

“I did terrible things that he never even had to do,” he protested.

“We all did, my dear. But we all did what we had to do in order to survive.”

My dear. That alone blew away the brewing tempest that was forming his mind. He nodded in your hands and swallowed the tightness he felt in his throat.

You pulled your hands away from his face and stood up, extending one of your hands to him to pull him back to his feet. He wanted to chuckle at that. You, smaller than him in size, wanted to bring him back to his feet. He ended up taking your hand but didn’t put any of his weight on you as he rose to stand.

“Come with me. Let’s go think of something else,” you smiled brightly up at him. A full smile that reached your eyes and hinted at a bit of mischief that somehow put him at ease.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

You had convinced him to climb in your car without saying where you were taking him. He didn’t mind though, he trusted you with his life. You’d been by his side during some of the most dangerous moments of his life, what would make him think you’d want to hurt him.

Nearing your destination, you instructed him to close his eyes. He obeyed without having to ask him twice. He was starting to come to the realization that he quite enjoyed following your commands. His mind started to wonder to more pleasant situations as you drove. How would it feel for you to give him simple domestic commands? For you to tell him to do the dishes… to let you cook in peace… to give you one more kiss before he left for work. He snapped out of it before his mind decided to wander off too far. He felt the car come to a complete stop and heard you change gears to park. 

“Keep them closed, okay?” you instructed him once again and he gave you a nod, the smallest hint of a smile starting to form on his face.

You got out of the driver’s seat and rushed to his side to open the door. You told him he could come out and held the door open for him as he undid his seatbelt and got out slowly. Once he was completely out of the car, you closed the door and took a deep breath.

“Alright, should I cover your eyes or guide you with my hands?” 

He raised an eyebrow and started to grow suspicious. What could you possibly be hiding from him? He wasn’t going to give up the chance to have close contact with you though, even if it was just the feeling of his hand in yours.

He didn’t reply, instead he just extended his hand out to you. You smiled to yourself at the motion, immediately reaching out to hold his hand before you started to walk forward at a careful pace so he wouldn’t trip.

Horacio had lived most, if not all, of his life in Colombia. The cold weather didn’t faze him, hell, he was in the military and they had to endure rigid temperatures as part of their training. However, today in particular was cold. He wasn’t sure if it was because he had unconsciously lowered his defenses while he was with you, but the cold was starting to get to him. Even with his jacket on, he still felt the chill in the air as you guided him through wherever it was you took him to. His mind going haywire between the stark difference of the crisp weather and your warm hand holding his. 

He heard the distant sound of children laughing, families calling out for their kids, conversations here and there, cars passing by. His suspicion grew by the second as he followed you, his eyes still closed when you came to a stop. 

“Okay Horacio, you can open your eyes now.”

At your command, he opened his eyes and looked around, his sight trying to adjust to the environment around him. You’d taken him to a local plaza, a tourist-y area adorned and decorated with Christmas lights on every surface. There were lights wrapped around the trunks of the trees, lights hanging from the branches that swayed with the wind, lights resting on top of some small and well-kept bushes, lights that paved the way to the different directions of the plaza. Colorful lights everywhere. 

“Ta-da!” you exclaimed, a bright smile on your face as you looked at him, waiting for a reaction.

He tried to take it all in, kept looking around before focusing on you. He saw the way you smiled at him, a hopeful expression in your eyes almost as if asking, do you like it?

He gave your hand a gentle squeeze before taking a deep breath. He didn’t have time to think before he wrapped his arms around you this time, his lips resting against the soft skin of your forehead. 

“Thank you,” he whispered against your skin. A million words he wanted to say but couldn’t. Thank you for not letting me fall apart. Thank you for not letting me drown. 

You closed your eyes as you returned the embrace. Wishing that, somehow, you could make him feel the love (that you’d been trying to bury deep down) through this simple act. Wishing that, maybe one day, you’d be able to tell him that if he were drowning you’d drain the whole ocean for him. Only for him.

[angedemystere]

INTRODUCING THE CHOSEN HOLIDAY CHALLENGE!

Seasons greetings! Thank you to everyone who's given feedback on this idea for a prompt-based challenge (shoutout to @aceofstars16 and @dizzyizzie10 for help brainstorming and @littlemissbigears, @sojourner-between-worlds and @randowwriter for the signal boosts). This challenge is for anyone in the Chosen Tumblr Army (or folks who just think the show is Neat) interested in writing, drawing, or photo/gif editing.

Here's how the challenge will work:

Advent is the season before Christmas, celebrated over the (usually) 4 weeks leading up to Christmas Day. Each Sunday, a candle is lit to commemorate 4 themes of the season: hope, peace, joy, and love.

For this holiday challenge, I'll post weekly themes with prompts between now and Dec. 24, then follow up with prompts related to Christmas and Epiphany. These prompts will attempt to be open enough that anyone can run with them in creative ways.

Here are guidelines for filling the prompts and posting:

For each theme, try to post your piece between the given dates (e.g. Advent Theme 1 between Dec. 3 and Dec. 9)

Mention @angedemystere in the post

Tag your post #thechosenholidaychallenge

Drabbles, poems, short stories, longer-form excerpts are welcome

All physical or digital art is welcome

If your work has any explicit content, please tag and include warnings

OCs are welcome!

The themes and prompts will appear about a week before the "window" for submissions (e.g. today Nov. 27 I'll announce the theme for Advent 1, which you can post between Dec. 3 and Dec. 9) so everyone has a little extra time to brainstorm and create.

I'll reblog all prompt responses the day after each deadline and tag them (e.g. #theme:hope for Advent 1 week). If you can't do a prompt for a certain week, no problem - that's why there will be new themes and prompts each week. Join the ones that inspire you!

The schedule for the themes:

Week 1 (Dec. 3-9): Hope

Week 2 (Dec. 10-16): Peace

Week 3 (Dec. 17-23): Joy

Week 4 (Dec. 24-30): Love/Light/New Life

Week 5 (Dec. 31-Jan. 6): Epiphany

You'll notice that the themes for Advent 4 and Christmas will be for the same week. That's because Advent 4 Sunday falls on Christmas Eve this year. As Nathanael might say, they're practically on top of each other. So prompts for both themes will be available that week - double the options!

Please remember that this is meant to be in the spirit of fun and appreciation of both The Chosen and the holiday season. Please reblog to spread the word and enjoy!

[lavender-at-heart]

𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐢𝐱𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐄𝐥𝐯𝐢𝐬:

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Pairing: Elvis(or Austin!elvis) x reader

Warnings: kids? Idk💀

Notes: this is technically the second part to this fic, but you rlly don't have to read it first. Requests are open, feedback is welcome and thank you for reading!<3

- Cc💞

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

When Elvis gets out of the Army he can barley contain his excitement to see you.

While in Germany, when he had time off he'd go to every jewelry store he could find. Searching for a perfect engagement ring for you.

Elvis is a picky man and never settles for anything less than perfect, especially when shopping for you

Eventually he finds one, just a month before returning home. It's big and shiny just the way he likes but delicate in a way that suits you.

When elvis comes home he can barley keep himself from running into your arms and eloping on the spot.

You wait on the porch of Graceland while he greets his father

your hair freshly teased in the newest style; a contrast from the short curls of two years ago. With your best dress and the biggest smile, you can barley contain yourself.

After your kiss filled reunion you, elvis and your close friends and family have a small party to celebrate Elvis' wonderful return home.

Life seems to go back to normal- or as normal as It could be.

Elvis had wanted to settle down with you and make his music but the colonel life had other plans.

Elvis made movies faster than you could stop and smell the beautiful flowers he gave you.

And even though some of them were admittedly cheap cash grabs, your sweetheart never put in anything less than his whole heart. He loved preforming and wanted to make you and his fans proud, no matter what.

It was fun to see your boyfriend so happy and in his zone. And getting to go to all those premieres were very exiting.

Meeting all sorts of Hollywood stars and musicians, it was unlike anything you'd ever done.

You did have to spend a lot of time apart especially as the colonel pushed him to make even more movies, but it made you appreciate the time you had with him.

Whether Elvis was with you or not he'd go the nine yards, claiming that he had to catch up on all the nice things he wanted to but could buy you back in the day.

Your first big gift from Elvis was the Christmas he came home, a small brown kitten that fit in the palm of your hand. You named it Love after Elvis' mama and she's been your best friend ever since.

When elvis isn't home he writes and sends gifts whenever he feels like it; which is pretty often.

Long notes and poems accompanied with a bouquet of flowers and a new necklace are the types of gifts you would typically receive.

He also sends dresses on dresses and a new pair of shoes every couple months

"I just want you to look extra special when I finally get to see you again hun." Elvis pleaded through the phone.

When he's at home he takes you out for amazing dinners and movie nights.

Sometimes the two of you prefer to stay home, lay in bed and watch your favorite movies or listen to your favorite music and slow dance by the fireplace.

On your 7th anniversary Elvis proposed to you.

he took you to the spot he used to eat picnic dinners underneath the stars with and got down on one knee.

"I-I know I promised to do this a long while back but I can't wait any longer. [Y/n], darling? Will you be my wife?"

You nearly scream yes, and pepper his face in a billion kisses.

You have to keep yourself from crying and let him put the pretty ring on your pretty little finger.

While the colonel thought your relationship would wreck Elvis' image, it did quite the opposite. You were painted as the royal couple of Hollywood, people swooned over you just as much as they did elvis.

Young girls looked to you for fashion inspiration and you soon began to pop up in beauty and life magazines.

And soon enough there was a royal wedding: June 1st 1965.

The newspapers went crazy and it was the most magical experience of your life.

You went dress shopping and found even managed to find your dream dress.

It took extra work to make sure that you and Elvis' wedding remained private but it was definitely worth it

Especially when Frank Sinatra offered his private jet so the two of you could get to your honeymoon spot hassle free.

Just a year after the both of you welcomed a new member into the family: Carolyn Gladys Presley.

Elvis was oh so scared to be a dad but boy did he make a good one.

He was so scared that he'd break the little baby or disappoint her, but he couldn't do that even if he tried.

He never let his work get in the way of taking care of his family, even if that meant getting on the colonels bad side.

Speaking of which you were sick and tired of that man being in you and elvis' life.

He pushed elvis into unhealthy habits and stopped elvis from doing what he loved, singing the music he loved.

While Elvis was off filming another cheap movie you and Jerry searched for a suitable replacement for the ugly pig they called a colonel.

You hired Steve Binger and Bones Howe to help Elvis with his comeback to music

And after a long long sit down you finally got through to Elvis and he "took care of business" and fired Tom Parker

Elvis felt bad but knew it was necessary to better his health and career.

The 69' comeback special was a surreal time, it was like Elvis became a new person.

He was overjoyed to be singing his music again. Everyone who knew him could see it on his face, his smile lighting up every room he walked into.

The summer of 1969 also welcomed Elvis Presley Jr. Into the family. He was a spitting image of his papa, sandy blonde hair and crystal blue eyes. He was almost a complete copy of Elvis but he had your nose and attitude.

Elvis loved taking you and his kids on horseback rides, teaching them to garden and never letting the spoils get to them.

always making sure they say please and thank you.

"Carrie whatya say to mama?"

"Thankyoo mama"

That isn't to say he doesn't spoil your children Because God knows he does. It's so hard for him to say no them, he just can't refuse them.

Summers are spent vacationing, swimming, and spending as much time together as possible.

Fall time is the best at Graceland, pumpkin patches, trick or treating, playing in the leaves.

Winter is Elvis' favorite, he loveeeess buying Christmas presents. Snow fights and bringing the kiddies to visit Santa. Elvis singing Christmas carols and decorating the house from head to toe.

Your family held a huge new years eve party and hoped that the upcoming 70s held as much blessings as the 60s had.