#also i chopped his long hair off like as soon as he had it

[orphyd]

I'm gonna start barking-

[yauchfilms]

anything with logan and being back in florida ? would appreciate!!! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

sunburn ✢ logan sargeant (18+)

pairing: logan sargeant x reader (established relationship)

warnings: smut, porn with plot (lots of exposition sorry i got carried away), one use of y/n, soft dom!logan, switchy!reader, fingering, edging, unprotected p in v, lots of pet names, begging, lots and lots of praise, body part worship if you squint, cursing, logan’s a simp, reader is implied floridian, implied childhood friends to lovers, sunburns, fluffy intimacy

summary: it’s been too long since y/n has been back in the states and she is NOT used to the florida sun like she used to be, but don’t worry, logan knows how to take care of her.

word count: 3.5k

author's note: sorry i got soooo carried away with this i don’t know what came over me. this was NOT supposed to be smut but im just a florida girl crushing on a florida boy here y’all lmao. i’m down so bad for this man that i just went kinda crazy. also this was my first time writing smut so pls bare with me. this is inspired by my friend (and fellow logan girly) who just acquired a nasty sunburn lmaoooo. enjoy!!!!

it had been quite a while since you and logan had been back home together. well, not really, but the weather was typically a lot nicer in the winter months than in the spring and summer, and you were not used to it. after you and logan moved to london together full-time, you rarely saw the sun anymore, and your matching pale complexions certainly reflected that sentiment. 

obviously, the miami race weekend was a big deal for the whole sargeant camp. aunts, uncles, cousins, childhood friends, and grandparents would be making their short trip down i-95 to see logan race, but it also meant that you and logan could spend a week together at home, in the sun, in each other’s company. a free vacation of sorts. logan’s parents were busy getting the house ready for the hordes of guests that were to soon occupy the space, so you and logan were more than happy to get out of their hair and into the back yard for some relaxation. 

it was sunday, and you found yourself lounging out on the dock, lost in a romance novel that was probably making you lose brain cells, when you heard a familiar voice calling out to you.

“y/n!”, logan yelled from where him and coco were playing on the grass. “have you been applying sunscreen?” 

you put your book down, letting out a small huff at his question. logan often took a rather paternal role over you, not in a weird or demeaning way, but rather in the sense that he always has your best interest at heart. and you loved that about him, loved how he always wanted to take care of you without being asked. 

you looked down over the chaise longue you were laid out on, thinking there was a bottle of SPF next to your drink, but all that was there was the can of sparkling water you had been nursing. 

“don’t have any; i’ll be okay!” you called back, hoping that would be the end of it.

“you want me to bring you some? it’s no problem,” logan replied, positioning himself to get up off the ground.

“don’t worry about it; i’m coming inside soon anyways!” you half-lied, knowing that logan usually respected your wishes when it came to things like that. you knew you weren’t necessarily telling him the truth, but he knew you and your stubbornness, and he knew it was not his business to try to fix it. 

another few hours had passed, and logan and the dog had long gone inside to find something else to do. you had stayed out, vowing to finish your book in one sitting. as you closed it, you stood up from the lounger, grabbing your long-abandoned can from the ground, wrapping yourself in the towel that you had been laying on, making your way back into the comfort of the house – and the air conditioning.

walking in through the kitchen, you pass logan’s mom, who was cooking dinner for the family. 

“oh sweetie, looks like you got some color on you!” she exclaims, chopping up some vegetables. 

“yeah, it’s been a minute since i’ve had time to tan! i missed the florida sunshine too much.”

“well, logan’s in his room, and dinner’s in about an hour if you’d like to freshen up,”  mrs. sargeant said sweetly, motioning towards the hallway towards logan’s room.

upon your arrival, logan moved his laptop out of his lap and onto the bed next to him. you took the towel off your shoulders, leaving you in just your bikini, when logan’s eyes went wide with shock.

“what, it’s not like you haven’t seen me in a bikini before?” you quipped, reacting to his sudden change of expression. 

“y/n, you are bright red, like ferrari red,” logan replied, serious as a heart attack. you make your way to the vanity over his dresser, taking in your current state. logan was right. you were burnt. 

“what the fuck dude, i swear i wasn’t out there that long,” you snapped, poking and prodding yourself in the mirror, letting out a wince when you stumbled over a particularly sensitive area.

logan gets off his spot on the bed, making his way towards you, joining you in front of the mirror. his hands immediately fall to your hips out of instinct, but he makes sure not to grab too tightly due to your new look.

“baby,” he says, placing his chin onto your shoulder. you let out another wince, reacting to his touch. “i told you to wear sunscreen. now look at you, my little lobster…”

“this isn’t funny,” you pout, and he leans forward to place a chaste kiss on your lips. you spin around in his arms, now facing him face-to-face rather than through the mirror. 

“stop pouting baby, and go hop in the shower, please. the sooner you get some cold water on you, the better you’ll feel. i can feel the heat radiating off you from here,” logan said with a giggle. his hands linger around your ass, and he gives a slight smack to send you on your way, which elicits a shrill yelp from you due to the sensitivity of the area. 

“are you at least going to join me?” you question as you make your way to his en suite, stopping in the door frame with your arms crossed across your chest. logan lets out another giggle.

“and listen to you whine the whole time? no thanks, plus i showered like an hour ago,” he replies, which garners a predictable whine from you.  “if you make it quick, i might have something that can help you,” he adds, and you turn on your heel into the bathroom, shutting the door with a slam. 

and he was right; the shower hurt like hell, but you know that had he been there, you wouldn’t have been able to properly soak in the cold water, so you silently curse him for being right. 

you walk back into logan’s room, wrapped in your towel, when you see him sitting on the bed, scrolling mindlessly on his phone. he hears you approach, putting his phone down and grabbing the clear bottle off the bed next to him. 

“i found you aloe; well, my mom did. she said your burn is one of the worst she’s seen,” logan said, presenting the bottle to you like it was a participation trophy. 

“is that supposed to make me feel better or worse, logie?” you questioned, feigning offence from his comment. 

“well, the comment probably won’t, but hopefully the aloe does,” he replied. “c’mere, baby,” he cooed, his arms outstretched, welcoming you into his arms. you take your spot on his lap, legs draped over his thigh, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep you in place. logan places a kiss to the bridge of your nose, and along your cheeks, leaning in to admire the newly-formed freckles that were threatening to peak out from underneath the harsh redness of your skin. 

“your freckles are back; reminds me of when we were little, trying to catch fish with my dad in the backyard. you were so bad at it; still are to be honest, but it’s okay because you still look cute trying to bait a hook,” he laughs, his breath giving a cooling sensation to your cheeks, and you wish he would keep talking just to feel his breath against your skin. 

“logan, baby, the aloe?” you suggest, knowing that the time he’s wasting is killing you. all you crave is the feeling of the lotion on you, and his hands being the ones to apply it. 

“sorry, didn’t mean to get sentimental on you, just being here with you makes me think about stuff like that. i sometimes wish we could go back…” logan trails off, and you know what he’s thinking about. he often thinks about the memories of you growing up, how much he missed you when he moved away to the uk, and what it meant to get you back. you like to think of those moments too, sometimes, but he often gets in his head about it. 

“i know,” you coo, lifting a hand up to card through the longer hair on the back of his neck, as a way to soothe him.

he lifts the bottle of aloe up towards you. 

“may i?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow up in an inquisitive way.

“of course you may. how do you want me?” you ask, a mischievous look in your eye.

“do not say it like that, you minx,” logan shot back, your innuendo catching him by surprise. 

“keep talking crazy like that, and we might have a problem,” he snapped, although with no actual malice behind it. “you can lay on your tummy first, though, and i’ll go from there, if that’s okay,” he said, his expression softening as he looked at you. 

you climb out of his lap and onto your stomach on the bed next to him, and he straddles your back to get the proper angle. 

“this okay?” he asks, tugging slightly at the towel that is still loosely wrapped around your back. 

“log, you’ve seen me naked countless times; of course it’s okay,” you quip, turning your head so he can see the side of your face. he leans down, planting a sloppy kiss to your cheek, blowing a raspberry there. this elicits a giggle from you, wriggling underneath him. 

logan drags the towel down your body slowly, his fingers barely grazing your warm, sensitive skin, standing up on his knees to pull it out from under you. 

“i know we aren’t having sex or anything, but could you at least take your shirt off or something? this feels too clinical,” you say, causing logan to burst out laughing above you.

“you are not a real person, i swear to god,” he quips, pulling his shirt over his head in one quick motion. “is that better, princess?” he says sarcastically, using the nickname he only gives you when you’re acting like a handful. 

between your fits of giggles, you let out a “mhm” that signals to logan that he is free to proceed. this evokes an eye roll from logan that you catch out of the corner of your eye. 

his attitude doesn’t last long, however, because before you can protest, his lips find your shoulder blade, peppering kisses along the top of your back, feeling his stubble graze across your skin. it burns, but feels so good at the same time.

“so sweet for me, logie,” you groan, melting into his touch. he reaches for your hair, still damp from the shower, to move it out of his way, as he makes his way across the plane of your body.  

all he can manage is a drawn out “hmmmmm” as he feels the warmth of your skin along his cheek. 

he pulls away suddenly, and you whimper at the loss of contact from him. 

“i know, i know,” he cooes, and you hear the bottle of lotion being opened just out of your periphery. 

his hands make contact with your skin again, feeling the sensation of the cool liquid as he massages it in. his strong hands make their way up and down your back, causing you to arch only slightly, if it wasn’t for him sitting squarely on your ass. 

“you’re killing me, logan,” you half-whisper, his actions genuinely taking your ability to speak at a regular volume, the intimacy of it all being just a little too much for you. 

“feels good, huh?” he asks, and although you can’t see it, you can tell that he’s cocked his eyebrow at you, and you’re surprised he’s been able to behave himself this long. 

his hands work swiftly, massaging the liquid in with long, deft fingers, the sensation driving you crazy.

“logan, i want you, please,” you whine, looking up over your shoulder to meet his gaze, your eyes softening in an almost begging manor. 

“i thought you said we weren’t–” 

“i lied. i’m a liar. i need you right now,” you beg, as logan stands back up on his knees to allow you to roll over underneath him, him now settled on your thighs.

“fuck, baby, i can’t say no to you,” he huffs, not sure exactly how to make the next move. he looks down at you splayed out in front of him, taking in the sight before him. a hand reaches down to caress down your chest, fingers grazing slightly over your nipple, causing your breath to hitch. 

“we have to make it quick, okay? can you be good for me?” he asks, his hand lingering on your left breast. 

you let out a whimper, shaking your head slightly.

“words, baby,” he sighs, his fingers massaging into the tissue of your chest. 

“yes, i’ll do whatever you want,” you whisper, unable to find your voice with how turned on you were. 

“that’s my pretty girl,” logan cooes, leaning down to place a kiss on your lips, adjusting himself so he’s slotted between your legs. the kiss deepens, his tongue finding its way into your mouth, as he swallows your muffled moans, trying to avoid the awkward conversation with his mom later. 

“gotta be quiet, baby,” he whispers, his hand running up and down your side, the warmth of his hand searing your sensitive skin.

“god, i feel like we’re in high school again,” you say, rolling your eyes at him.

“except i wasn’t nearly as good then as i am now, though,” he smirks, diving down to leave a trail of kisses from the corner of your mouth to the base of your neck, softly nibbling on your pulse point. 

“are you gonna prove it?” you ask, trying to rile him up.

this question evokes something in him, his breath against your skin coming hot and sudden, and you could feel the deep exhale from his nose.

leaning up to your ear, he whispers, “you are such a brat.”

the sensation from the whisper mixed with the sting of his words sends a shock straight to your core. he’s not always the best at dirty talk, but he still somehow knows exactly what to say and when to say it. 

“touch me, logan,” you manage to squeak out, your breath growing heavier the more you took in his words, and he was eager to oblige.

with that, the hand that found comfort on your hip trailed its way down between your bodies, grazing the softness of your stomach, fingers oh-so-gently teasing your folds. 

“so wet, huh? so worked up for me? you drive me so fucking crazy, you know that?” he growls, his voice rasping as he begins rubbing small circles against your clit with his thumb. “one or two, baby?” he asks, and you know exactly what he means. 

“two, please”, you whine into his mouth, body arching up into him before he even has the chance to touch you properly. 

“good girl, take it so well,” he groans, sliding two fingers into your cunt, almost too slowly. his voice is almost unrecognizable, the threat of being too loud taking over. his thumb continues its pattern on your clit.

you feel the tension building as he fucks his hand in and out of you, but not before you feel him slowing his pace down.

“i know you wanna come now baby, but we don’t have long. i’m gonna stop, and we can come together, okay?”, he half-whispers. 

his hand moves from its spot between your thighs back up toward your lips, as he rests his fingers on your bottom lip, cocking his eyebrow at you. 

“o-okay,” you squeak out, and with that, his fingers push past your lips, urging you to suck them clean, and you oblige, swirling your tongue around his digits, tasting yourself on his fingers. 

your hands trail down between you two, your fingers dipping underneath his shorts and boxers, toying with the waistband. 

logan removes his fingers from your mouth, opting to move back to your jawline, planting lingering kisses along the bone.

“quit teasing, baby, want you on top. let me see those pretty tits of yours, yeah?”, he smirks, knowing that him complimenting your body drives you crazy in the best way. 

you oblige with a searing kiss to his lips, opting to pull his shorts down in one motion, cock bobbing free and slapping across his stomach. he reaches down to finish taking them off, throwing them on the floor with your long-abandoned towel. 

he rolls you both over with ease, you now on top. your fingertips graze his chest, down to his abs, grabbing his cock and giving it a few quick pumps to make sure he’s ready. 

“ready, log?” you ask, your hands now on either side of his head, his blue eyes sparkling back up at you, your hips and ass now up in the air waiting for his cue. 

he leans up to chase your lips, trying to kiss you, just out of his reach. 

“please, baby, i can’t take it much more,” he begs, using his arms to pull you down to him, sinking down on him, and meeting his lips with yours. now it’s his turn to moan into your mouth. 

“fuuuuuck,” is all he’s able to get out, his hands finding their way to your hips, trying to help you relieve the lack of sensation. Your hips roll for the first time over him, and his hips immediately buck up into you.

“patience, baby. i thought i was the desperate one?” your words go right to his cock, making him buck up once again, making you speed up your motions. you feel the effects of his desperation on your body, the coil in your stomach winding tighter with every bounce on his cock.

“fuck, you’re close, baby; so am i,” logan pants, the physicality of it all catching up to him. he knows your body so well; he can always tell when you’re about to come. 

with his observation, you lean back with your hands behind you on his thighs, your hips continuing to roll against his body, eliciting a low, grumbling moan from logan. he loved you like that, all cock-drunk and lazy on top of him. it also meant that he had a perfect view of your tits, both his hands reaching to grab at them as he continued fucking up into you. 

“these are so fucking perfect. all mine. i can’t believe you’re all mine, baby,” logan pants, both of your movements becoming lazier, as he rolls your nipples in between his fingers, feeling your already-tight walls close in on his cock.

you can feel your orgasm quickly approaching with his presence on your tits, and you know that he isn’t going to last long, either. you lean forward, diminishing the space between you two, giving logan the opportunity to bear hug you. his thrusts up into you send you over the edge, your orgasm ripping through you, causing you to let out a muffled moan onto his right pec. your vision goes slightly blurry for a second until you hear a grunted “fuck, baby”, followed by the feeling of logan’s hips sputtering underneath you. he comes shortly after you, spilling into you. 

You collapse onto his chest, your highs riding out together. he doesn’t loosen his grip around your back, planting a sweet kiss to the top of your forehead, pulling out as you lay pitifully on his chest.

“so good for me, baby, so sweet. fuck, i’m so lucky,” he whispers, rubbing your back where, just a few minutes earlier, he was applying aloe lotion. he rolls you both over so that you’re now facing each other on your sides. 

you reach a hand up to caress his face, feeling the stubble from a week’s worth of no races, the hair rough against your smooth palm. 

“logie, you fucked me so good i almost forgot about this damn sunburn,” you giggled, “but now we’re done and it just hurts again!”

“guess that means i’ll just have to fuck you again,” logan smirked, burying his head into the crook of your neck, eliciting more giggles from you. you begin to hook your leg over his thigh, bringing you even closer, pulling him in for a passionate kiss. you almost begin the cycle over again until you hear a knock on the door that has you both frozen in your tracks. 

“dinner!” you hear his mom cheer from the other side of the door, and then her footsteps clearly walking back down the hall towards the kitchen. 

“guess not,” you teased, eliciting an eye roll from logan, who quickly gets up to pull you into the bathroom to get cleaned up. 

[forever-rogue]

I have a pretty personal request ❤️ (and I completely understand if you don't feel comfortable writing it.)

But I have been struggling with self-esteem and acceptance of myself since gaining some weight. I know I'm beautiful, but that stupid, nagging voice in the back of my head can be a bitch.

I came up with an idea about reader who's in an established relationship with Joel Miller. They've settled into Jackson, and with the changes that come with that stability, she's noticed the changes in her own body and has to deal with it. I can just imagine how soft and fluffy Joel would be once he's made aware of what she's dealing with.

Or maybe I just really need a Joel of my own to cuddle and tell me I'm beautiful 🥺🥰

Thank you!!

AN | Here you go, I hope you enjoy! Also, a friendly reminder that you're lovely just the way you are 🥰

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language, Weight Discussion

Word Count | 2k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

This was the first time you'd looked at yourself in a mirror in a long time. Like properly looked at yourself. You'd been in Jackson for a few months now and were experiencing a stability that you hadn't known in so long. It still felt odd some days, waking up next to Joel in a warm, soft bed without having to worry about anything. But it was slowly becoming your normal life and while it was an adjustment, you were beginning to love it. 

Happiness and peace looked good on Joel and Ellie. And you. But, and this was what had been nagging you, lingering in the back of your mind, you'd noticed some physical changes as well as everything else. You'd felt them before you'd fully looked at them - at yourself.

The bathroom boasted a large mirror but you usually didn't spend a while lot of time looking at yourself. You hadn't for years, so why start now?

Well, the simple answer was that now the changes were undeniable. 

With a heavy sigh, you closed the bathroom door and glanced at yourself. Your face was a little fuller than you'd remembered, the darkness around your eyes lessened. Your skin looked good and your hair was styled and shiny. These were the changes you liked to see. You noticed the same, more or less, on Joel and Ellie too. 

It was the rest you were worried about. You shucked off your sweater and pajamas pants and slowly allowed yourself to look over your body. You didn’t fixate on your body too much; for a long time survival and getting through your day to day was all that was on your mind. But now it felt like you had all the time in the world. 

As you looked yourself over, you could see that there had been some physical changes. You looked softer, your tummy and hips fuller than you’d remembered since you were young, your thighs bigger as well. You sighed to yourself and turned on the showers before you could think too much about it. It wasn’t a big deal, you reminded yourself, it wasn’t a big deal. 

You heard a knock on the door before it was slowly pushed open and Joel poked his head, “hey sweetheart, got room for one more?”

You panicked for a moment, trying to figure out how you could manage to get out of this one, “umm, I’m almost done actually. I’ll be out in a second and then its all yours.”

“Alright,” he lingered for a moment; you knew that he knew that something was up. Joel wasn’t stupid and he was very perceptive, “sounds good. Everything alright?”

“Of course,” you almost choked on the lie, “everything’s fine.”

Joel made a small sound before gently closing the door. You tried to swallow back your tears but soon enough they were running down your cheeks and mixing in with the stream from the shower.

It was just another change and it would be okay. You’d get there eventually…you hoped.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Hey baby,” Joel found you as you were in the kitchen, chopping vegetables for dinner, a small smile on his face. He’d noticed that you’d been acting a little off but didn’t want to push it, he knew that you’d go to him when you were ready to.

“Hi Joel,” you looked up and offered him a smile you hoped mirrored his own, “what’s up?”

“Nothing,” he insisted softly as he came over to you, “just wanted to see my girl.”

You tutted at him softly as he came to stand behind you, wrapping an arm around your middle as he leaned his chin on your shoulder. You froze for a moment, sure that he was going to make some sort of comment about how soft or squishy your body was but he said nothing, instead pressing some kisses to your shoulder. You stopped what you were doing, closing your eyes and leaning into him, “Joel.”

“I love you, you know,” he whispered before you slowly turned around in his arms so you could face him. He reached up and put his hand on your face, slowly brushing his thumb over your cheek. 

“I know,” you promised, leaning into his touch and turning your face so you could press a kiss to his palm, “I love you too.”

He watched you for a moment before leaning in to kiss you. You decided not to think too much about, not to worry about anything, and instead leaned into him and kissed him right back. It had been a bit since the two of you had a bit of time alone, and you hadn’t helped anything but pulling away from him whenever it was just the two of you. But you’d missed this and missed him, his touch, his everything. 

You relaxed into his touch, letting him kiss you dizzy. Eventually his hands wandered down to your hips and that caused you to freeze up. You put your hands on his forearms and pulled away from him, breaking the kiss. Joel, good man that he was, stopped immediately and let go of you. You shook your head, more at yourself than anything else and blinked back your tears, “sorry, I just…it’s me.”

“It’s alright,” he whispered softly, “you don’t have to apologize. If you want to talk about whatever’s been going on, I’m here. You know that, I ain’t going anywhere. I love you.”

You inhaled deeply before slowly letting it all out and nodded, “thank you.”

“Do you want a hand finishing dinner?”

“Yes,” you appreciated the kind and gentle man that he was, “I’d like that a lot.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You walked into the bedroom, finding Joel already in bed and reading. You closed the door and leaned against, looking him over for a moment. He paused after a moment and looked up at you before marking his page and setting it to the side, “penny for your thoughts?”

You nodded slowly before making your way to the bed, sitting cross-legged on top of the covers next to him. There were a few moments of silence as you sat there and picked at a few loose strands on the hem of your sweater. Joel reached out and gave your knee a gentle squeeze. You reached for his hand and weaved your fingers through his, “I don’t want you to hate me.”

“Baby,” a small huff of laughter escaped him but his voice was low and gentle, “I don’t know what you could have done or do that would ever make me hate you. That’s impossible.”

“It’s just…I don’t know,” you shrugged, reassured a little bit that he wouldn’t hate you anyway, “I really like it here in Jackson. I’ve liked it since we’ve been here. But I think I’ve gotten too comfortable.”

“Too comfortable?” he repeated slowly, “ain’t that a good thing?”

“It’s….my body,” you admitted reluctantly, “I look different…I’ve gained weight. I don’t look like I used.”

“Okay,” he brought your hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to your knuckles. You were a bit taken aback by his nonchalant response, “I guess I don’t understand why it’s a big deal. But I want to understand.”

“I…because I look different and I was worried that you wouldn’t want me anymore.”

“That’s the silliest thing I’ve ever heard,” he tugged on your hand in a small attempt to pull you closer, “there’s nothing you could do to make me love you any less. That includes your body changing - happens to everyone. I’ve grown a little softer around the middle since we’ve been there but I haven’t heard you complaining. We’ve all grown comfortable here, but that’s a good thing, it means we’re safe and home and we’re living. Not just alive, but living.”

“I…hadn’t thought about it that way,” you whispered, “I hadn’t really noticed anything different about you.

“See? It didn’t matter to you, why would it matter to me? And even if it wasn’t any of those things, it wouldn’t matter to me. I love you,” you were perched on his lap now, looking at him with soft eyes. His hands settled on your hips and he gave them a gentle squeeze, “besides, ain’t nothing wrong with a little thicker, baby.”

“Joel,” you were laughing now, but a few tears managed to run down your cheeks; but these ones weren’t of sadness. He wiped them away tenderly, “thank you.”

“Nothing to thank me for,” he insisted, “I’m just telling you how it is. Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Is this why you’ve been avoiding me and only had sex in the total darkness?” admittedly it sounded silly when he said it like that. Your face warmed up as you bit your lip and shyly nodded. That look on its own was enough to make him practically melt, “oh baby.”

“It didn’t seem stupid at the time!” you burrowed your face in your hands to try and hide but he pulled your hands away from your face, “don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m not, it’s affectionate,” he grinned, “you also don’t think I noticed anything. I might be dumb at times, but I ain’t stupid.”

“But you didn’t…say anything,” you cocked your head to the side as he raised an eyebrow.

“Again…why would I have?”

“You’re the best,” you leaned forward and wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned in to hug him, clinging onto him like a koala, “I love you so much.”

“I love you,” he pressed a kiss to the side of your head, “no matter what either of us look like. You’re still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

“No you’re just trying to flatter me,” you snorted in amusement as you pulled back to look at him, “don’t look at me like that with those big brown eyes, Miller. That’s cheating!”

“It’s not flattery, it’s the truth,” he said, “and I’ll look at you any which way I want. Okay?”

“Okay,” you teased, “whatever you say.”

“That’s right,” he nodded in agreement, “now take off this sweater and leave the light on…only if you want to though.”

“Now that I can do,” you grinned, “gladly.”

[chryblossomjjk]

distractions | jjk

⇢ PAIRING: fuckboy!jk x inexperienced reader

⇢ RATING: m/18+

⇢ WC: 1.1k

⇢ WARNINGS: cute couple content, they drop the 'l' word guys, n*pple piercings n sucking bc u know... fixation lmao, v suggestive but no actual sm*t, finger sucking lol, the love is requited :')

⇢ SUMMARY: jungkook agreed to let you do his makeup, but he can't stop getting distracted.

⇢ NOTES: ugh i missed them dearly!! will be putting out more drabbles soon, but i'm currently trying to focus on my other wip!! i haven't posted anything in so long so i wanted to share this with you guys! school n work is hectic i already feel swamped pls be patient with me :') i miss having time for a hobby lmao!! anyways, i hope you enjoy and let me know ur thoughts! love u <3 also apologize if there's any typos or weirdness, this wasn't beta'd!! if you haven't read practice yet, pls read before this!!

⇢ SERIES MASTERLIST

“Kook, look up! How many times do I have to tell you?” 

Four months into the relationship and his attention span, or lack thereof, never ceased to amaze you. With a frustrated groan, you place the pointy end of your Sailor Moon brush between your teeth before gripping his chin and turning his wandering gaze back to you. 

“Bambi, I’m looking up!” He yell-laughs, doe-eyes wide and sarcastic as they bear into you, equally frustrated. You can already see the concealer you applied just a few minutes ago creasing. Dramatically, he karate chops his tattooed arm towards the ceiling, paralleling your scantily clad frame straddling him. The sudden jump has you shifting against his crotch deliciously. Now’s not the time for fooling around, though. You’re determined to put the cute brush set Jungkook randomly gifted you a few weeks back to good use, starting with giving your sweet boyfriend a full beat. “This is up! What other direction is up?”

What an asshole. 

You pop the pink plastic out of your mouth, taking an annoyed chomp out of his annoying fingers. It's playful, of course. You mean, you’ve just got done with a whitening strip, after all…

Jungkook takes the opportunity to shove his digits further past your glossy lips, reaching down just enough to feel your throat constrict, then pulling back. He stares up at you with the cheesiest fucking grin, clearly pleased with himself.

“You’re mean,” you cough, wiping the drool at the corners of your mouth with the back of your hand.

“No you,” he counters, pinching your cheek patronizingly. “I love you, though.”

One month into the lovey-dovey phase of the relationship; that one where the initial butterflies fly away and you’re left feeling like ‘wow, maybe this is a forever sort of thing,’ and you still feel lightheaded every time Jungkook murmurs those three words.

“I love you, too,” you coo, reaching down to adjust his teddy-bear headband. Jungkook’s been growing his hair out. This was his last semester and he was determined to go out with a bang. For whatever reason, he had decided that bang was a mullet. You remember how confused you were when he showed up at your dorm at 3am, drunk off Fireball and excitement, asking you to cut his hair. You thought the request was outlandish and foolish, but you did it anyway, in your bathroom with eyebrow scissors. It came out a teeny bit crooked, and a tiny bit choppy, but Jungkook loved it, staring at his reflection with a big bunny smile and starry eyes. “But baby, this-” you tap on the headboard behind him, “-is up.”

He squints his eyes in defiance before complying. Ah, you’ve trained him well. A very good boy, indeed.

You’ve spoken, or thought, too soon, because after a few swipes of the plush bristles, a high-pitched ‘Appa!’ from your phone, leaning against your Kuromi makeup bag on the nightstand beside you, draws his dark pupils back to the cartoon. 

“That’s it,” you huff like an overwhelmed mother of three, yanking the device out of his sight. “Say goodbye to Aang. You’ve lost your Avatar: The Last Airbender privileges.” 

“C’mon, seriously?” He laughs while lunging forward, attempting to wrestle the phone out of your grasp. Giggling wildly, you toss it on the pink shag rug below you, out of his reach. The movement almost sends you toppling over. Luckily, Jungkook wraps an arm around your waist to keep you steady. “Bambi, you know I’m easily distracted.”

“But you said I could do your makeup,” you pout, batting your lashes at him.

“I know, I-”

“Don’t touch!” You shriek, preventing him from rubbing his eye.

“Sorry, sorry,” he apologizes through a chuckle, holding his hands by his head in defense. “Maybe I…” You deadpan him as his eyes scan around the room before, not so subtly, landing on your chest. Cocking his head, he tuts his tongue and grips the hem of your shirt. Shamelessly, he stuffs the nearly transparent material into your mouth, exposing your bare breasts. “There, just like that,” he whispers, warm palms grazing up your torso to cup them, thumbs grazing over your little diamond heart jewelry. You gasp at the touch. “You know, I still can’t believe you actually got ‘em’.” Neither could you, honestly, but if there was one thing Jungkook has taught you, it’s that sometimes, you need to step out of your comfort zone. Take risks. Especially when it results in the cutest little nipple piercings. “So fucking sexy…”

You feel his forming bulge poking against you. God, do you want him. But even Jungkook’s dick couldn’t derail you from the mission at hand. Raising an eyebrow, you lift up the makeup brush.

The tits really seem to keep him preoccupied. With a hand on his cheek, you feel his mouth hollowing, sucking your nipple gingerly as you lean over him and fill in his thick brows. Obviously, it’s a bit hard to focus. Every now and then, you have to tug his hair to redirect his nibbles back down to soft licks. 

“Okay,” you announce, letting the shirt fall from your candy-coated lips and sitting up, “what color?”

Out of the entire thirty-pan rainbow eyeshadow palette you’re holding up for him, he lazily points to the darkest shade in the top color. His favorite color, of course; black. You should’ve known. Your lips scrunch to the side in contemplation. Jungkook would look so yummy with a smokey eye.

So you blend and blend away with blacks, whites, and grays. Shockingly, your boyfriend manages to stay still throughout the entire process. You’re proud of him, really. He’ll definitely get rewarded afterward. And you were right, the final product is absolutely delectable. 

“Baby, your eyelashes are stunning!” You swoon. “And the smokey-eye looks so so so good with your eye shape.”

Silence.

“Jungkook?” You lean forward, gripping his shoulders and shaking softly. Nothing but the sound of faint snores reaches your ears. The little fuck fell asleep. No wonder why he’s been so good. You laugh in disbelief, picking your phone off the floor and snapping a few pictures to show him in the morning. Reaching into your drawer, you take out a couple makeup wipes and start cleaning him up. You loathe makeup wipes and only keep them for emergencies, but Jungkook looks so peaceful that you can’t bring yourself to wake him.

Next, you snuggle beside him with a spare blanket, unable to yank your comforter out from under his thick, muscular thighs. He stirs when you gently pull off his headband. “I love you…” he mumbles, still half asleep. It’s as if the emotion is so ingrained in his subconscious that they bubble to the surface, even when he’s sleepy and incoherent. 

And you feel the same exact way. 

“I love you, Jungkook. Goodnight.”

© chryblossomjjk 2023 [do not copy, translate or repost]

[multific]

A Life We Can Have

Beorn x Reader

Warnings: injury

Summary: After an unlucky night where you were chased by Orcs, your life forever changes when a huge bear saves you.

You wake up with a sudden realization. 

You had no idea where you were, or how you got there.

All you could recall from the night before was that a bunch of Orcs were after you as you ran through the woods. 

With a bleeding leg and a possibly broken wrist, you tried to dodge their arrows.

You ran fast but they managed to catch up. One of their wolves bit your ankle, making you fall and let out a groan of pain. 

You could recall the loud noises the orcs made, you remember crying and the pain in your ankle and wrist getting worse.  

Then a giant bear came out of nowhere and killed them all. 

Your last thought was that you would be the dinner for this bear. You weren't exactly sure what happened after that at all. 

But somehow, you woke up in this rather nice and cosy house. 

As you moved, you let out a groan, the pain in your body finally setting in. You ran for so long, your feet hurt. Your ankle hurt where the wolf bit you and your wrist hurt because you fell and injured it.

You looked around the house, but no one was there.

You thought a giant might have lived there, given how huge everything was.

You were only a simple human, but you were well aware of all creatures that lived on this Earth with you. But you had no clue what kind of a creature would live in such a house.

You slowly got off the bed and made your way over to the table where you found bread, so you took a little.

This is when you hear the noise of someone chopping wood. 

Being mindful of your leg, you slowly walked out and this is when you saw him. 

His back was to you, and you took a moment to take him in.

He was huge, he easily chopped the wood with his giant axe. His back was covered in scars and along his spine he had hair going down, it looked more like fur. 

A very hairy man, but who were you to judge?

You heard stories of a beast living alone in the woods. He cared for the animals but he didn’t like company. 

A fierce man, who was now chopping wood in front of you.

You weren’t sure if you should talk to him or not, one thing was for sure, you didn’t want to startle him.

“Umm.” you started but as soon as you did he turned around, with that huge axe in his hands.

“You should be resting, you hurt your leg very badly.”

“I-I did but… Am I at your house?”

“Yes.” he replied with a lot of annoyance in his voice and you nodded.

“So, you saved me last night from the bear? Thank you.”

“Go back to bed. I’ll prepare some tea once I finish chopping the wood.” you didn’t argue, why would you? Or rather how could you? 

The man was huge but you saw him more as a gentle person, despite his rough edges. 

And you also feared that instead of the wood, he would chop you in half.

You just slowly moved back into the house and sat on the chair by the huge table. Your leg did hurt and your wrist was throbbing a little, but your mind was still running at a hundred miles. You tried to recall what happened but couldn’t. 

You knew you fainted, but then what happened to the bear? Did this man scare it away? Did he fight it?

He did look rather dangerous with his axe. Maybe he could take the bear in a fight. 

Whoever this man was, he certainly lived alone, looking around his home it was cosy, but it didn’t have the touch of a female, clearly, he was a bachelor. Not that it was a problem, it was only an observation on your part.

You needed to think of other things because if you didn’t, the pain would hit you.

You heard him enter through the door as he soon headed for the stove. In complete silence, he started to make tea for you as you munched on the bread you took earlier. 

He clearly didn’t have many visitors. You watched as he worked, trying your best to ignore the pain, you watched his hands work, you watched as a shackle was on his wrist, it must have been there for some time now. 

He soon put a cup in front of you.

“Drink it and leave.”

“Uhm, but my ankle…” you were very much up playing the pain. It made the huge man in front of you groan.

“Alright, you can stay until you get better. I’m not too fond of visitors.”

Clearly. But he will have to deal with you because you don’t plan on leaving anytime soon. Especially not when there are Orcs in these woods and you have only one working leg.

Even if the pain wasn’t that bad, you still preferred the comfort of a home over the cold floors of the forest. 

---

"What is this?" you asked him as you munched on the deliciousness in your hand. 

"Honey cake."

"I really like it." you said. "Did you make it yourself?"

"I did."

"It's really really good."

He didn't reply, but you didn't expect him to. 

Your leg and wrist felt much much better now. His herbs worked better than magic. 

You also noticed that slowly, he warmed up to you. He even offered you his smaller room so you didn't have to sleep on the hay or floor.

He was a strange man.

Affectionate, yet he looked afraid of it.

You could see that deep down, he was a very warm person. However, the terrible things that happened to him, made him cold.

Winter was near.

So Beorn told you that you will need to help him with his farm and animals. You had no problem with that. Given that you grew up on a farm, and you loved to help.

And by the time the snow arrived, his home was ready for the harsh winter.

And so were you.

You made clothes for yourself and him. He didn't really want to take the clothing but now, he wore it every day. He said it was so warm, he enjoyed it.

It filled you with pride that he wore the clothes you made, he ate the food you prepared and he listened to you.

In return one evening, he told you a story, a story of his own, his terrible past and what he went through. 

You cried that day, letting the tears fall as he reached over to wipe your tears away.

"Why are you crying?" he asked.

"My heart breaks for you. No one deserves that kind of torture." you said as you lifted your hand and touched the shackle on his wrist.

That day, Beorn promised himself he would never tell you another story of his.

He hated to see you cry.

He wanted to see you laugh, like you laughed when you played with his horses or bees.

How or when you became so important to him was a mystery to Beorn, but here he was now.

He sat in his chair as he watched you, you were making a blanket. You said his house was rather cold for you, so you needed something warm. He wanted to offer that he could sleep with you so you wouldn't be cold but he didn't want to cross that line.

He was sure you only viewed him as a friend and nothing more.

You often found yourself babbling and telling him stories. Stories he most likely would call nonsense. 

But in truth, he loved listening to you talk. Every story he remembers and could recall at any moment.

One evening, after dinner, you just sat on the couch he made for you, you cuddled up with your blanket and a book when Beorn joined you. It was snowing heavily outside, so he wouldn't go out for his usual runs.

He sat down and you offered him a smile before you looked back at your book.

But out of the corner of your eye, you could see he was staring at you.

"Is there something on my face?" you asked but he shook his head, no.

He was behaving strangely. You tried your best to focus on your book but it was difficult.

"What are your plans once winter is over?" oh, he wanted you out of his hair.

"I-I-You don't have to worry, I'll leave as soon as I wouldn't freeze to death in the woods. I really appreciate your hospitality and I don't want to bother you longer than needed," you said but didn't look at him.

"It's no bother. I was asking only because then we could make you a bed."

"I have a bed." you looked at him, confused.

"You have a mattress, I was thinking of making a bedframe, so it is more comfortable." 

"So you want me to stay?"

"Only if you want to."

"I would love to. I enjoy your land very much. The beautiful trees and the animals. I can only imagine what it must look like during the spring."

"Is my home the only thing you enjoy about being here?" you looked at his face as he avoided your eyes.

"What are you asking?" your voice was quiet, and he finally looked at you.

"I grew very fond of you, I never imagined myself in this situation, but... Love is not something I believe I deserve. I am a monster, my past is... awful. I do not deserve such a flower like you. But I also won't be able to let you go. Only if you reject my feelings- I want you to be happy here with me. But if you choose to leave, I won't force you to stay." his words honestly surprised you, you never expected him to confess to you.

"I would love to stay with you. I just wasn't sure of your feelings. You hide them very well."

"It is a skill I learned." you smiled at his comment. 

He moved towards you and you moved with him, he pulled you into his arms and you never felt warmer.

It was quiet, you could hear his heartbeat and the fire crackle behind you. 

"You deserve happiness as much as anyone." you said as he tightened his hold around you. 

"Thank you." he whispered and he just held you for hours.

It was the first time in his life that someone touched him with care and affection for what felt like years.

And slowly, he started to believe he deserved this happiness.

---

Spring arrived with flowers.

As the snow melted and everything began to bloom, your love fully bloomed.

You looked at Beorn as he tended to the bees.

You followed him to his goats and helped him feed his horses.

A smile never once leaves your lips. And he is much the same.

Then you cooked lunch for both of you, he loved your cooking and you were happy to make him anything he wanted.

Given how fresh and amazing his crops were, it was easy to prepare something amazing.

Then after dinner, the two of you would go to sleep in his bed, him holding you close to his chest.

It was a simple life, but it was all you could hope for.

You often catch him smiling even if it's a small one.

You make him happy and he makes you happy.

This was the life you always wanted.

Although you never imagined you would have it with a man who can turn into a bear, you weren't complaining.

He was your bear.

Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster @capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak   @manduse   @jacalineiscomingforyou  @mandoloriancookie @noname2246

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS 

[dedenneblogs]

HEARTBREAK HIGH S2 ANALYSIS PART 1 (buckle up this is going to be a doozy)

so... it's out (the trailer).

my excitement cannot be expressed...

BUTT! today, i will be doing my iconic mouse analysis of this trailer (this is actually the first time im doing something like this so it's not rlly iconic BUTT it will be soon) with the most comprehensive inspection i can using under 2 minutes of video as a basis....

with that said lets

BEGIN!

the heartbreak highers are back for another "cursed" term....

so glad to see the trio back in action. like. actually so happy. MIGHT explode from excitement... as always, their outfits slaylay.

the boyfriends... friends? boys? BUGS??? found out on hh s2!

these goons are back... gayer then ever,,, seriously. when will these two have an episode long make out 'sesh? unlikely, to much dismay....spoiler alert...you'll see....

MISSY!!!!! and sasha, i guess

SPOILER ALERT AGAINNNN missy looks like she'll be more prominent in this season so...WIN!!!!

also why is she mewing who is rizzing up

and new on the the chopping block-- Rowan Callaghan!

we'll get to rowan when we get to rowan

in other (more important) news-- SHE'S HEALING! HARPER IS HEALING!!!

i... *sobs* i she's growing her hair out oh my GAW...... she's getting better...she... there's a lower chance she'll cock-block amerie (oh but she'll get cock [spoiler-- again!])

butt let's not celebrate just yet-- it's still "everyone hates amerie" up in this joint, smellas

may as well... shot them. huh. well. pop off, i suppose... (amerie asserts her right to bear arms-- truly patriotic coming from an aussie!)

...touché coming from the (still) most hated student in heartly who only adds salt to the wound by... using the pink 'ildo from s1 as a mic... chat... she's lost it.

(unrelated but in the background-- MISSY AND MALAKAI!!! they were building up a relationship between them in s1 and how she and her brother (i think? 'memory's fuzzy) helped him heal from the shit he had to go through in s1 and even better connect him with his aboriginal roots. i hope to see more of these two interact come april 11th and i binge the whole season)

ALSO also ANOTHER new character-- Zoe Clarke!

we will ALSo get to zoe when we get to zoe

anywho-- cue: AMERIE'S ONLINE HARASSMENT ARC! becuz every show needs one...unfortunately. Give a cold welcome to Bird Psycho, heartbreak highers (we will get to bird psycho when we get to bird psycho)

(who ever is doing this shit is a bitch but either way: "you dont get to be the hero" shut your goofy ass up)

oh that's gore. that's core of my comfort character.

ok so maybe this bird psycho cuck isnt fucking around because clearly he's gotten to our girl ams :(

(dw they uh...take her out for ice cream. after this. proabably.)

moving foward-- STAND BACK I SAID STAND BACK WEIRD GIRL QUINNI

oughh im gonna be sick. of course. OF COURSE SHE WOULD GO FULL SHERLOCK HOLMES TO HELP HER BESTIE.

yeah anyways with this in mind she'd totally try and crack the fnaf lore wouldn't she. wouldn't she.

she's slay she's girlboss but at the end of the day she's a weirdo

anywho nuff of my rambling there--

ominous of you to say zoe

BUT ENOUGH OF HER CA$$HHHHHHHHHHHH

ca$h omg eshay eshay eshay pspspspsp,,,

i am so happy to see him (spoiler alert for 2 secs throughout the whole trailer) but anywho remeber? remeber right he's in prison. but seems to be doing okay... (maybe for the best heartly drama is really coming to a boiling point)

<3

and-- oh. uh... chicken dumbell... okay... pop off, missy...

when i said i wanted more missy i didnt expect this

spider seems to be into tho maybe what ??1/1/111.1/?!??!/1/1/1

missy x spider was NOT on my bingo card

WHEN MISSY SAID SHE WAS STARTING TO LIKE WHITE BOYS I DIDNT THINK SHE MEANT THIS.

BUUTTTttttt-- i. am. down. for. it... somehow. frankly, spider needs someone to put him in his place and low and behold, missy seems to be the student to do so..........

hey. if they're both happy with their...chicken dumbells, i am too.

amerie dont be alarmed but there's a white boy to your right

in other news this love triangle scares the diarrhea out of me

look at them. they're the perfect couple (malakai x amerie 4life) and rowan is--

well he's a nice boy but cmon

LOOK AGAIN IM DOWN FOR THEM TO BE HAPPY BUTT when it comes in between THE BEST SHIP IN THE SHOW (looks at amerie x spider shippers with affectionate disdain) i draw the line.

but who knows? rowan seems nice enough, and if he's able to make amerie happy, let them have each other! <3

also knowing malakai's track record i wouldn't put it past him to get freaky with rowan too (threesome attempt 2??? actually no wait thats a horrible idea NEVERMIND [gets s1 ep4 flashbacks])

also also "classic love triangle" scene gives major "erm...well this is akward!" vibes from ams (we stan cringey amerie in this household tho)

and well. shart. max limit of 30 photos. oh well-- ill make a second part! tune in for the update heartbreak highers :3

[cherry-pop-elf]

hello! 🌷 is it okay to request weasley twins x hufflepuff reader that was tortured by umbridge, but didn't give away the prank / bad thing that the twins did? out of loyalty for them

maybe comfort too, since they're thankful to reader and also feel guilty for what umbridge done to her. could be pre-dating or already dating them !!

have a lovely day 🎀

As a Hufflepuff who would have 100% been forced to not use their wheelchair because Umbridge would think I was faking my disability for attention, yeah we gonna get some Whump in this shit. ((Lowkey having some rough shit going on mentally so some vent fic like this will be hella. Thanks anon! Perfect timing!

—————————————————

Honey Wounds

Warning: Violence, Umbridge in general, blood, torture, whump, hurt/comfort 🎆🐝🎇

“Where’s little bumble bee-?” The twins would worry, as they had wondered why you didn’t show up to the secret little defense class Harry started up. Where could their little Hufflepuff be? Had them a little worried. By little, it was a lot. Things have been getting a lot more tense recently. Umbridge was really hammering down, and she was making her mission to find a way to get those two into Azkaban. By any means possible. The only reason she hasn’t was probably because of Percy somehow. As they worried, someone was quick to grab them.

“Fred, George, something bad happened. Something really bad happened-!” The first year was crying, and the duo were on red alert now. The poor kid was in to many tears to really speak, so they figured there was no need to. George was quick to pick the first year up, as the child was just pointing. Fred was in the running lead, as George was trying to comfort the child. The poor kid was hiccuping, and seeming so scared. Something bad happened, and they had to figure out what it was. That’s when they saw it. Blood on the barrels, like someone was slapping bloody hand’s desperately to get into the Hufflepuff dorm.

“Shit shit shit, what did she do now-?” Fred hissed, as he tried to focus on entering the dorm. Having to get literal blood on his hands, in order to get inside. With the pattern played, the duo were able to run inside. Left to see the Hufflepuff dorm full of noise. So many students all busy and around someone. When Hannah Abbott noticed the twins, she stepped away. Pulling away fellow students, and the horror was on display.

“Fred, George…..?” It was you, and you were not looking hot. Not looking hot at all. You were horribly pale, and your hands looked as if they had been through a chopping block. The fellow Puff’s had done their best to try and help, but it was like they wouldn’t stop bleeding. George had instantly covered the first years eyes, despite the fact the child had long seen it. It was just habit after all.

“WHAT HAPPENED-?!” Fred was soon by your side, while George was quick to hand the child off to someone. Now he was on your other side. You were just to tired to really process it all, given the blood loss. If it wasn’t for their brilliant hair, you would have assumed it was just more worried Hufflepuff’s. Just trying so hard to help. It’s rather scary. Sure, it’s Hogwarts. Things get violent, but this wasn’t just a random accident. Nor some run in with a beast. This was a woman who wanted to hurt.

“I didn’t tell her. I didn’t tell her-“ You managed to say, with a smile. The twins looked at each other, wondering what you were blabbering about, before they were quick to take over. The Puff’s made sure to stay out of their way, as the twins were able to move in ever perfect unison. Not needing to speak, to move. Fred was quick to start emptying their bags, as George was taking care in trying to wash the wounds on your hands.

“I know it’s in here, come on out you bastard-“ Fred hissed, as he sorted through the assortment of old tins they had collected. Each with its own experiment, as George tried to not freak out. Seeing you hurt like this. It was making him feel so many emotions. Anger at Umbridge, fear for what that woman will do next, sadness for your pain, anxiety on it Ron and Ginny would be next. It was all so loud in his eyes, as he tried not to let the tears spill.

“Found it-!” Fred sighed, as he was quick to start lathering a strange substance on your hands. It felt rather strange. As if he was lathering your open wounds with pudding. You expected it to hurt, but it was rather nice. Very cooling to your burning wounds. It would soon seem to harden on your fingers and palms. As if stopping you from bleeding, and absorbing the blood. Forcing it to stay inside. If you weren’t so dizzy, you would praise them for being so smart.

“Bumble Bee….What happened?” Fred asked, as George was busy with someone. Quick to get some water from one of the prefects, and try and nurse it into your body. George was gentle, and you needed it. You choked on it, but he knew you had to drink some. You lost alot of blood, and you had to stay hydrated. He would keep your head against his chest, as you managed to get some down. Enough to satisfy him, and calm his nerves. You could feel how sweaty his hands were, with worry, as he stroked your hair. With a few minutes to breath, you spoke.

“She brought me to her office. Asked me who had broken in it last night. I said I didn’t know. She didn’t like that, but I didn’t give up.” You smiled, as the twins were staring in horror. They broke into her office, last night. They swore they didn’t leave behind a trace. They had to break in. She confiscated Ginny’s bracelet. Said she fiddled with it too much. It was made just for her, by Bill. Ever since the incident in the chamber of secrets, she was more susceptible to dark magic. So, a Curse breaker made her something to help. Umbridge was actively putting her in danger. How could they not protect their little sister?

“It was a trap…..She did that on purpose-“ Fred realized, as it made sense. Of course they would break in to get it back. That horrid woman. “Can’t believe she dragged you into this. I mean, I can, but you get the point I’m making here! We’re so sorry Honey Bee-“ George would soon echo, as he kissed your head. Feeling so guilty. You didn’t blame them, of course, but they sure didn’t stop feeling guilty.

“It’s ok. Im ok. Ginny needed it. Like I would ever rat you two out.” You tried to reassure them, but their minds were made up. They had to do something about Umbridge. This woman was going insane. The twins swore she wasn’t aware that you three were in a relationship of sorts. They were magical twins. Not fair to compare them to muggle ones. They shared a partner, no big deal. Communication makes the dream work. Seems like maybe you three communicated in the wrong hallway one to many times, and she put two and two together.

“We are going to fix this. We promise.” The twins spoke, as they comforted you. George with keeping your head to his chest, as Fred was between your legs. Hugging your stomach, and nuzzling into your thigh. Just needing to hold onto you. As if you would disintegrate into his hands then and there. You would have comforted him, but it didn’t seem like your hands wanted to exist at the moment.

“Looks like we can’t wait for that down payment any longer. Now or never.” George said, as Fred gave a defeated sigh. He was right. If they stayed at Hogwarts any longer, Merlin knows who else she will drag into their mess. George was right, it was now or never. Because never means they’ll be in Azkaban for murdering her at this point.

“Say, Bumble bee….Think you can handle living in a rundown hollowed building for a while?” Fred asked, as you tried to focus your eyes. You didn’t really understand half of what they were saying, but you knew this. Wherever they went, you would follow. “What makes it any different from a dungeon?” You tried to joke, and that seemed to solidify the deal. Look out world, the Weasley Twins were about to show off their latest invention.

The WhizBang

[wongyuuu]

Hiii. Request for a drabble of when you get that call from one of the members about Cheol being rushed to the hospital for his torn ACL? And then whatever happens after is up to you xx

hope you like it!

pairing: seungcheol x fem!reader genre: angst, fluff  word count: 847 warning: mentions of injury, really bad jokes

a/n: this was not proofread

requests are open

Bitting your nails was a habit that you had long left in the past, back when you were still a teenager. You clearly remember the moment you decided you’d stop, just because one of your friends had long beautiful nails, and you wanted that too. However, it still came to you occasionally, when your nerves were out of control. There was also the shaking legs. 

You had gotten a call from Joshua, no more than ten minutes before. 

“Hey, Shua” you answered the phone brightly, walking to the hallway and away from your friends’ shatter. 

Until that moment there was nothing wrong, no problem in sight. Seungcheol was out for the weekend with his friends, sort of like a camping trip. And you were with yours. It was something that you did often. Joshua’s call also wasn't surprising. 

“y/n?” it was the way he said your name that made a chill run down your spine. 

Joshua was the kind to always be bright, even when situations were complicated. You had never heard his voice like that, so serious.

“What happened?” you were already on your way to the door, slipping your feet inside the worn-out sneakers and wrapping the scarf around your neck

“We had to bring Cheol to the hospital, we’re at the ER right now”

You closed your eyes for a second, wishing that you had heard him wrong. If there was one thing you learned in your three-year relationship with Seungcheol was that the man avoided hospitals as if it was a sport and he was an Olympic champion at it.

“How bad is it?” 

You ran down the stairs. It was only four storeys and you didn’t dare to risk losing signal and had the call disconnect.

“Don’t run” Joshua scolded you “He’s already pissed that I called you. I don’t want to think about what he’ll do if you get hurt”

You closed your eyes and stopped once you reached the second floor. 

“Joshua, how bad is it?”

“He needs surgery, in a few weeks. He tore his ACL”

You nodded, even though Joshua couldn’t really see you. You didn’t know what it meant, how bad the injury really was but Joshua’s tone told everything you needed to know. It was bad, probably worse than what you could imagine.

When you got to the hospital, Seungcheol, Joshua, and Jeonghan were already waiting for you at the parking lot. He smiled at you as he tried to stand up straight with the clutches under his arms. Although he was smiling, you knew that he was trying to put up the image that he was fine to his friends but the truth was there in his eyes. 

“Hi baby,” you said, kissing his cheek quickly and pushing away the hair from his forehead “How are you feeling?”

Seungcheol just shook his head, quickly dropping a peck on your lips and limping to the car. You took his backpack from Joshua’s hand, mouthing thank you to the two of them as you rushed after your boyfriend. 

“I’m fine,” Seungcheol said when you took the clutches from his hand so he could climb into the passenger seat “You don’t have to worry”

You smiled at him, kissing his lips again — this time for a little longer. 

“I know” you whispered “It’s going to be fine, but maybe you should get a tattoo this knee on the one that’s hurt and the other one on the good one. Just to make sure they don’t touch the wrong one”

Seungcheol shook his head, trying to suppress a smile while shaking his head.

“Too soon? I’ve got worse ones if you want”

“The joke was really bad,” he said with a pout, leaning against the seat “but I’ll take another one”

You pressed your lips together, pretending to be in deep thought, causing a small laugh to leave his lips — it was exactly what you wanted.

“Maybe we could chop it off, and have my dad make you a new one” you held his hand shaking it from side to side “Oh, oh, oh, if my dad makes you a new foot he’ll add fingers and then I’ll finally be able to paint your toenails”

He narrowed his eyes at you and a second later started to laugh.

“If I promise to let you paint my nails, will you keep your dad away from my leg” you nodded excitedly and raised your hand, sticking your pinky out “You want me to pinky promise? You don’t trust me at all”

Seungcheol did his best to sound offended, but the truth was that he was just having too much fun, the injury momentarily forgotten.

“Not on this, you said five times already, yes I counted it, that you would let me paint your nails and you always get back on your word”

You wiggled your hand, waiting for him to take your finger into his.

“Thank you for this” he said quietly, the look in his eyes full of love, as he finally raised his pinky too “Love you”

taglist: @wonwooz1, @ryuwonieebae

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[equallyshaw]

ᴅᴀʏ ꜱɪx: ᴀʟʟ ɪ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴄʜʀɪꜱᴛᴍᴀꜱ ɪꜱ ʏᴏᴜ - ᴄᴏɴɴᴏʀ ʙᴇᴅᴀʀᴅ

part of holidays with equallyshaw

warnings: none!

word count: 4.5k + 🫣

also for context, she is a year older than him, so shes 19 right now almost 20.

ᴄᴏɴɴᴏʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴇʟ ʜᴀᴅ been friends since birth, or well they used to be. ironically noel ended up in chicago after growing up in vancouver for 14 years and when connor had gone off to regina. it seemed as though noel had forgotten about connor, he had surmised. and hoped that once he came to chicago - officially - that the two would see one another again.

ofcourse as luck would have it, they would.

❅

"noel!" she heard her name yelled from downstairs. she sighed, putting down her romance novel, and took in the white flurries that had miraculously come just in time for christmas eve, in a day. she stood up, picked up her coffee mug, and headed down the three flights of stairs. when her father moved her and her brother to chicago, they quickly fell in love with the brownstone that just happened to be available as soon as he took the job. especially in the area that they were, and because noel adored the area so much she opted to stay in the city and go to school in the loop. after her freshman year of dorm living, she convinced her best friend abby from highschool to join her in off-campus housing- and now here she was back in her bedroom, for holiday break.

noel had made it down to the landing, right before the foyer and heard her dad talking with somebody, and the two were laughing. her eyebrows crinkled, unsurely. as soon as she hit the top step, connor froze. he swallowed, his gaze shifting from noels father and towards his best friend and the girl that he had loved for some time. she jogged down to the last step, and that's when she recognized him. she tilted her head just a bit, and gave a weary smile. "connor?" he stood silent for a minute before speaking, "hey noel, its good to see you." he said and she nodded softly. "yeah, you too." she hummed, pulling a stray piece of hair behind her ear. "how long has it been?" she questioned, shifting her hold on the mug before her dad swiped it from her. "ill get you some more." he said before leaving the two.

"about 6 years almost." he stated and she nodded, "right." she hummed looking at the historic wood floor. "oh! congrats by the way. my dad was really excited that chicago drafted you. apparently, they needed a good ole canadian to lead the team again." she said grinning, and he nodded smiling. "yeah i was pretty stoked when i remembered that you guys had moved here. my parents had hoped that we'd cross each other's path at some point. they were thankful and relieved to know your parents were here." he exclaimed and she nodded, "they always did say that you were like their second son. which doesn't hurt." she grinned, "do you want something to eat? drink?" she questioned and he shrugged, "did i hear coffee?" he smirked and she nodded, "ofcourse! my dad can never go a day with out." she hummed, pulling him towards the kitchen. "nice house by the way." he said as they went through the dining room and then down two halls. she nodded, "yeah. things changed a lot when my dad got the job. my dad was finally able to give the historic home my mom had always dreamed of." she shrugged, before htye entered the black and white marble floor. "connor!" her mom gushed, putting down her knife and rushing over to see the boy.

"mrs. murphy! how are you?" he questioned as she pulled back a bit to inspect the now 5'11 boy. "good good! how are you?" she questioned, returning to her chopping board. noel took her coffee mug out of the nespresso machine, and placed another one for connor. she took out the medium roast pod from the drawer, before grabbing coffee creamer from the fridge. oh shoot, she thought, she didn't know what he liked in coffee. "hey connor? what do you want for coffee?" she questioned, turning back towards him. "whatever you're doing is fine." he said before her mom pushed connor into the island chair. "sit sit, i want to hear all about your time here so far. tell me about regina too!" her mom said continuing to prepare dinner. noel brought her mug to her lip, not to drink just yet but to hide the small grin that was forming. connor flicked his gaze towards noel for a brief second, before looking at noel's mom. noel turned back towards the coffee machine, putting some creamer in his cup before bringing it over to him. she sat down next to him, and he made a weird face. "this is so you." he said but continued to drink it. "last time i checked, i didn't start drinking coffee until i was 17." she said without really catching her self. connor nodded softly, a wave of uneasiness filled him. "so connor! tell us about your parents!" her mom butt in, and noel silently thanked the universe for it.

a few hours later, with a home-cooked meal and some cookies placed in a tin, noel was walking connor out. "please come back soon! we'd love to have you for dinner again." her mom said hugging the boy tightly. "i can never go without your cooking again! giving my mom a run for her money." he joked, and her parents laughed. she pulled away before he went to hug noel's dad. "ill walk him out." noel announced and then she walked him back through the halls and to the front door. "wheres your brother?" he questioned, "oh! he's uh, he lives in the loop now with his girlfriend." she said shrugging waiting for him to slip his shoes back on. she peered out the window next to the door and smiled, it was still snowing. "well drive safely, its still snowing." she said as he finished. he nodded, "would you, would you like to get coffee with me tomorrow? my parents fly in tonight late, and so they wont be up for a while." he explained. she waited a brief second, before nodding. "id love that connor." she smiled before pulling him in for a hug. a good chill went up connor's spine and butterflies erupted from within noel. she began to pull away, and she could feel his breath at one point. she tried to hide her blushing as they pulled away for good, "how about philz coffee in lincoln park, say 9 ?" he questioned and she nodded. "ill be there." she grinned, before opening the door. she waited a few seconds before shutting the door, once he opened the small courtyard gate and then he was gone.

❅

it was 9 am the next morning, and noel had just sat down at a table with a hot coffee. her leg tapped anxiously, as she waited for him. and even though connor wasn't that guy, she was worried about him bailing on her. because, again- she was the one who stopped talking to him once she moved. her roommate and best friend abby had just woken up when connor walked through the door. abby and noel were on the phone, and abby was harping about something when she noticed connor find her within he coffee shop. he waltzed over to her, and sat down in front of her. she held up a finger, and nodded at whatever abby was saying. "ill be by afterwards and then we can talk about this." noel said before saying bye to her friend. "sorry my best friend was trying to explain what happened last night when she went out." she shrugged, sipping her coffee. "no problem, im gonna go order and ill be back." he said standing up and walking over towards the counter. she sat back, pulling off her long coat and sipped her coffee.

connor heard his name called a few minutes later, and he quickly swiped it from the counter. "so! tell me about your friend." he said, trying to start the 'catching up' conversation. she smiled, "i met her the first day of highschool, and we've been inseparable since. we had joint grad parties, and we roomed our freshman year at depaul, and now were still together down the street actually." she said shrugging, "she's been my best friend through everything. i couldn't have picked a better person to share so many amazing memories with." she added, and connor nodded. "that's nice." he hummed, sipping his iced coffee. "yeah, it made moving here a lot easier." she finished. he nodded, "yeah, it was hard after you left but me leaving at 15 definitely helped." he began, "oh right ! you left for regina." she said before grinning, and then out a soft chuckle. "you're such a child!" he said joining her. "i promise im an adult but everytime, its made me laugh." she hummed, her giggles claiming down. "but anywho, continue!" she squeled, placing her arms on the table. "it was good! met a lot of my close buddies there. was basically homeschooled when my mom was there." he shrugged, "oh right! they do things differently here." she said sipping some coffee. "but that was sweet of her to relocate. im sure melanie likes being back home now." she giggled, and he nodded. "yeah, it definitely helped my parents relationship. oddly enough, they got closer when she came to live with me. and now that they go back and fourth with my sister, its evident." he said sipping his coffee. "how is mads doing?" she questioned, "shes good! started her sophomore year at Calgary in business and is working at lululemon as she takes classes, up at bc." he said and noel smiled, "that was her dream. ubc." she hummed smiling widely. connor took in her wide smile, and in turn smiled.

"god i miss that girl. sister i never had." she hummed, "is she here for christmas?" she questioned and he nodded. "oh that's right! my mom wanted to know what you guys were doing tomorrow." he said.

❅

an hour later, the two walked out the coffee shop doors and they began their descent toward her apartment, that she lived in. they chatted the whole way there, catching up and laughing over some good times. they took the elevator up to the third floor, and quickly made their way over to the door. "abby?" noel called out, opening up the door all the way for him to slip through. "abby?" she called again, slipping her shoes off. "hey! hey?" abby said stepping out to the hallway and didn't realize connor was there. "ouu! you're connor bedard the one she neve-" and noel cut her off, "yes abby, miss chatty cathy." noel joked, as abby grinned. "anywho im abby her best friend and you are connor bedard that everybody in this city knows about but i could really care less." she said before turning back to the kitchen. noel snickered as she rolled her eyes playfully, "that's her." she said as connor said, "that's her." he laughed, as she began to take him on a tour of the apartment. "and here is my room." she said allowing him to walk in first. she leaned against the doorframe, watching him inspect her room. he took in all the photographs she had on the all and the one next to her bed. a picture of them when they were 12, and they had finished up a school project. "you still have this?" he asked, picking up the frame and looking at it closer. she nodded, "yeah that was one i knew i had to take from my parents house, it was too good not to." she mused, taking off her jacket and hanging it up.

she sat down on the bed, and he set the frame down before joining her. she sat there pretzeled styled, "so what trouble did you get into when i left?" she teased.

❅

when connor left to uber back to his fancy apartment building, abby drilled noel with questions. "oh come on you still like him!" abby accused her as noel just blushed. "he was the first guy i really liked, and always believed that if i hadn't moved away we would have ended up together. but he found somebody back in vancouver." noel said tucking her chin on her knee. "wait, but i thought that rumor wasn't true." and noel shrugged, "beats me." she hummed. "but he for sure likes you i know it! i saw the way he looked at you when yall walked in. it was hard not to notice. like you hung the stars and the moond!" abby further explained- the last part sing song, but noel shrugged. "nah. thats just connor. he probably looks at mads and his mom the same way, hell he probably looked at my mom that same way yesterday too. its just how he is." she shrugged but abby wasn't buying it. "whatever you say, but are you guys going to have them come over tomorrow?" she questioned. "i don't know, i sent a text to my parents but haven't heard a thing. but we used to have christmas morning together, we'd pile into one house and open presents, and then have brunch before afternoon mass for us." noel explained, "i always looked forward to christmas eve since the three of us and my brother would have a sleepover at whoevers house it was at that year, it was our tradition. the murphy-bedard christmas story." she smiled, a flurry of memories flooding her mind. "maybe you'll get lucky, and find yourselves under the mistletoe your parents put up." abby grinned, sipping coco. noel rolled her eyes, before standing up. "ill see you tomorrow, im going to chill in my room." she said beginning to walk off, "no phone sex!" abby called and noel groaned playfully.

back at connor's place, he was talking to his sister madi. he was explaining each and every detail of that day, his face lightening up the whole time. madi just sat back and grinned, asking questions here and there. she hadn't seen connor be this giddy in a long while. "did you ever tell her?" madi questioned as connor finished, "tell her what?" he asked as his eyebrows crinkled, while leaning to grab his hot coco. "did you ever tell her about your relentless crush as a kid?" she grinned, before sipping hers. he shook his head, "i don't know what your talking about." he mused and she chuckled. "connor i love you but don't act like a dummy. brendan and i both knew that yall liked one another. so no lying here." she chastised. he sighed, resting the mug on his knee. "she's never once expressed anything, so i never said anything. so why would i say it now?" he questioned, and madi did the same. "maybe then you two would finally get together." melanie stated as she walked into the living room that overlooked the city. "you knew?" he asked, bewildered. melanie laughed, "its a parents job to recognize these things. do you remember how heartbroken you were when she left and what she didn't call or text you she'd made it to chicago? absolutely wrecked." she mused, as madi snickered. "see?" madi said, cocking an eyebrow. connor sighed shaking his head.

❅

"im back!" noel announced walking into the brownstone. "sweetie, good you're here!" her mom said coming out to greet her at the door. ""whos here?" she questioned "im gonna go change and ill be down to have some brunch." noel said and her mom shook her head, taking her coat and bag and placing it near the door. "no need." her mom smiled taking her hand and pulling her into the kitchen and where the breakfast table stood. "noel!" she heard the famous melanie bedard voice call out as soon as she entered, "melanie!" noel smiled widely and melanie walked over. "soo good to see you again missy. we've missed you." she smiled pulling back a bit to place her hands on the side of her head, like she had as a child. "nelly!" madi said from beside her, and melanie let her go. madi and noel hugged each other tightly, truly the sisters they never had. "oh my god i could cry!" noel said giggling and madi joined in. "if you do im gonna and it isn't gonna be pretty." she said as they smiled at one another. "i cant believe you grew!" noel said as they parted, "i cant belive you didn't." madi joked and everybody laughed. noel was the odd one out in the family, barely coming out to 5'4 while her family was 5'10 and above. "hush now. im sure i could still drop kick you and beat you on beam." she said eyeing her, and giving her a playful finger point. "that you could." madi hummed, pointing right back at her. "hi tom!" she said as she finally found the very tall dude, "hi sweetie! so good to see you." he said and she nodded, "you as well. all of you guys!" she smiled looking back towards the rest of the family. connor was missing. "he's with your brother." madi answered her, and noel nodded.

"coffee?" her dad asked and she nodded, taking the expresso. "been saving the last one for you." he smiled placing the mug in her hand, and she grinned. "thankyou." she smiled, sipping her peppermint coffee. "thanks dad." she hummed, placing it on the counter. "ill be right back, i need to go check something." she said to her mom and her mom perked up, "grades?" she questioned and noel nodded. "let us know hun how ya did." her mom smiled, and noel nodded again. noel made her way upstairs to the third floor, and heard laughter coming out of her brothers room. she hurried to her room on the opposite end, and shut her door behind her. she leaned against it trying to collect her thoughts, which ranged from grades, money and ofcourse connor. all the above, as any college student thought.

she sat down at her old desktop her dad had given to her a few years ago for her birthday, saying that the old computer still worked well. she signed in quickly doing the damn double sign in her college did, and she waited for the screen to load. as soon as it loaded, she did a double take before smiling widely. her hard work had paid off, earning herself a 3.7 gpa. she logged off and headed back towards her door and when she opened it, she was surprised to see connor standing their patiently with a hand raised to knock. she swallowed hardly, a blur of anxiety washing over her.

"uh..hi!" she said opening her door like she had at her apartment, and allowed him to walk through. as she was shutting it, she saw her brother do a small salute before he jogged down the stairs.

"whats up connor?" she questioned, as he sat down in the desk chair. he spun around in it, and leaned his forearms on his knees. "everything ok?" she questioned heading over to her closet and slide the door open. "i wanted to talk to you about something, something that I've wanted to speak to you about for years, now." he said nervously, and she looked back at him as she tried to grab a bin from the top shelf of her closet. she growled, turning around and hopping a bit to grab it. with no luck. connor stood up and took a few big steps, reaching her. he grabbed it, and she now only recognized how close she was to the 5'11 hockey player. she swallowed, "thankyou." she said staring directly into his blue eyes. he smiled, "ofcourse." he said not moving an inch. he was too mesmerized by the girl, as cheesy as that sounds. "we shoul-" he cut the girl off by doing the one thing he'd wanted to do for years. it was the same thing she'd wanted to do as well.

he pulled her in closer as his hands found her back, and hers found his neck. she even stood on her tippy toes, to find the back of his head. they pulled away after a few seconds, blushing like fools. they rested their foreheads against one another. their breathing heavy as they looked at one another. "you don't know how long I've waited for that to happen, truly." she hummed smiling. "you don't know how long I've waited you to do that so i could tell you how much i liked you." she added, "liked?" he questioned, and she grinned. "ok i still do, i..honestly never stopped." she said giddily. "I've had a crush on you for so long, i just always told myself you didn't like me back." he said pulling away a bit more. she shook her head, "i never said anything because i always thought you had a thing for shannon." she said giggling a bit. he shook his head, placing a finger underneath her chin. "it was always you noel, always nelly." he smiled, leaning in again to kiss her. she felt heat creep up throughout her body, noel not being able to get enough of the dark blonde boy. connor was absolutely mad about this girl, and kissing her made him go absolutely wild. she pulled away when she felt they were getting carried away, "okay connor as much as i'd like to continue this. we need to go back down there." she said pulling away from him. "but i promise that once i start up school again, and your parents go back north- there will be much more time for this. whatever this may be." she hummed, picking up her phone from the desk. connor nodded, coming up in front of her, and pushing her gently back into the desk. "promise you're not gonna disappear on me again. ghost me?" he mused, cocking an eye brow. he was being semi serious, she could tell. "i promise not too. you're stuck with me boy." she grinned pushing him back and took ahold of his hand, pulling him into the hallway.

❅

it was around 9 pm when the bedard family were leaving for the night. they promised to come for one last dinner before the three of them went back up north, and the murphy family would keep them to that promise. noel had just walked into the kitchen to grab a tin and place some cookies her mom had made the day before. connor came in and stood behind her, placing a soft hand on her back. "coffee tomorrow morning?" he questioned, placing his hand on the counter beside her, and he now hovered behind her. "shore. how about someplace near here? i can pick you up if you'd like." she offered but he shook her head, "ill pick you up, so you don't have to walk any place nor pick me up." he offered and she nodded. "i guess that'll be okay, but i swear to god connor if you try killing us, im never letting you drive in this place again!" she said and connor chuckled. "she isn't joking, she'll hold her promise. or grudge." brendan her older brother said as he walked into the kitchen. connor quickly shifted away from the girl, but brendan only laughed. "didn't we just have the conversation?" brendan teased leaning his arms on the counter, and noel whipped her head towards connor. "what conversation?" she questioned and connor blushed. "me giving him the go on asking you out, once and for all." brendan said shoving a cookie in his mouth. "suttle brendan, suttle." noel said shaking her head with a fake scowl. "just no funny business, or at least don't kiss in front of me. i don't want to see that." he said fake gagging. madi then walked in, "see what?" she asked and connor groaned. "told them i don't want them to kiss in front of us. we already have to deal with their presence, we don't need all that kissing or touchiness." brendan said making madi giggle. "i agree." she said taking a cookie and biting it. "can we like not? but you knew?!" she whipped at madi who nodded. "good lord, seems like we were the only oblivious ones." she hummed, and madi nodded. "we had a running bet on what age you two would realize." madi grinned. "oh fuck off, the both of you." noel said closing the tin full of desserts and held it out for madi. "thankyou, gonna go finish this tonight." she smiled before leaving the kitchen. "text me soon?" he asked connor who nodded. brendan left the room so now it was only the two lovebirds. noel sighed, cleaning up some of the cookies.

"i cant believe that everybody noticed before we did." connor said chuckling. "i know, i fear its gonna haunt us forever." she hummed, and connor looked over at her. watching her sort cookies, for a few seconds. he smiled softly, "you know as a kid, its so dumb, i used to ask santa for you to- y'know, like like me." she gushed, popping an oreo ball in her mouth. "oh really?" he grinned, taking a peanut butter cookie and taking a bite out of it. "uh uh, remember when we heard the song 'all i want for christmas?' she paused waiting for him to nod, and he did. "i always used to say, all i want for christmas is for connor to like me or maybe y'know kiss me." she mused as her nerves flared. "really?" he quizzed and she nodded. "oh most definitely. every year before i moved." she smiled softly.

"come on connor, were leaving!" they heard melanie call out and noel had an idea.

"wait! come here." she whispered, grabbing ahold of his hand and pulling him out of the kitchen and towards the back room that was a small reading area, library and had a fireplace. she stopped in the doorframe and waited for him to realize.

"what?" he questioned, watching as her smile turned into a grin. "use your eyes, bedsy." she hummed, "bedsy? thought you hated that nickname." he mused, and she shook her head. "nah i just hated that i didn't come up with it." she smiled. he smiled back before looking around and then up above them. "oh. i get it now." he said looking down at the girl. "do you now?" she hummed, and he nodded leaning in closer. he placed his hands on her pale cheeks, before kissing her softly.

it was cut short.

"i literally told you not to kiss in front of me." brendan called out before pretending to gag. noel giggled, pushing her forehead into connors chest in embarrassment. "oh my god! ew no!" madi said recognizing where they were at.

"mommmm!" brendan called out and noel only laughed in response, as madi called out for melanie making connor laugh too.

"the murphy-bedard story - continues!" melanie screamed, with her mom adding a cheer with her.

"ready to face our audience?" noel grinned looking up at him, and he nodded. "just one more." he hummed before kissing her once more.

hope you all enjoyed!!!

tags: @cuttergauthier @toasttt11 @jayda12 @jackhues @dancerbailey

[just-a-torn-up-masterpiece]

Hiya~

I know I've sent you so many asks already (and feel free to tell me to stop if I'm annoying you. I'll understand) but I was thinking maybe a Melissa's reaction to reader bringing home a puppy without letting her know first. Maybe one of the Italian breeds like a Cane Corso.

<3

i literally just wrote this quickly because i love dogs and couldn't resist so i hope you don't hate it - but also i love your requests sosososososo much!!

hoagie

melissa schemmenti x reader

this is just pure fluff | wc: 799 | masterlist

Melissa had been waiting for you to come home after your trip to the store; she’d sent you out to pick up a couple of ingredients for dinner. An hour ago. She was almost done with her second glass of wine and you’d still not come back. 

She was beginning to get worried, only hoping that her wandering thoughts of something terrible having happened were way off the mark. 

She breathed a sigh of relief when she finally heard the front door open and close, soon followed by you, bag in hand and a smile on your face. 

“What took you so long?” she asked you, taking the bag from you to begin unpacking. “I was beginning to think you’d started another street brawl.”

“That was one time. And an accident. And hardly a ‘brawl’,” you argued with a huff whilst she just laughed. “My friend called me whilst I was out, she was nearby and I got distracted, I’m sorry.”

“Mm, and I see you bought my favourite coffee to get in my good books,” she muttered as she put it away.

“Has it worked?” 

“Definitely, honey,” she answered, pressing a kiss to your lips. When she pulled away she eyed you inquisitively, eyebrow raised. She knows you too well not to notice something was up.

“What?” you laughed, shuffling where you stood. 

“Which friend was it?”

“Angela.”

“The one with all those dogs?” she countered whilst you nodded and she began chopping vegetables. 

“Don’t you think having a little puppy would be so perfect?”

“No,” she returned. “I love them but I don’t think I could handle two of you with the zoomies every night,” she added with a chuckle. 

“I get that,” you agreed. “Want me to help?”

“Sure.” Her voice questioned your intentions and she was convinced there was some kind of ulterior motive. “You tryna butter me up or somethin’?”

“Can’t I help my girlfriend, just because?”

“I guess,” she shrugged. “But don’t actually touch anything.”

“Y’know, her Cane Corso just had a couple puppies,” you muttered as you took a seat on the kitchen counter, mindlessly stroking her hair to try your hardest to appease her. 

“Proper Italian dogs,” she mused. 

“Here, I’ve got some photos,” you responded, shoving your phone in front of her face excitedly. “They’re a few months old and one of them nibbles on your fingers with his toothless mouth which was a little gross but I love him so it’s fine.” You were getting antsy, glancing towards the front door, and luckily Melissa was distracted enough to not notice. 

“He sounds like you - is he gassy as well?” she teased, only receiving a little shove from you in return. 

“Rude,” you pouted as you hopped down from your seat, heading back towards the front door. “I just remembered I forgot something in the car, don't miss me too much - also don’t forget how much you absolutely adore me, and how you can never be mad at me about anything ever.” 

“God, what’d you do?” she sighed, turning off the stovetop, but you were already gone, muttering to yourself words she couldn’t clearly hear. 

You were glad to see her facing away from you when you walked back inside and you were able to walk up behind her before she could chastise you right away. The dog in your arms sat comfortably with his head against your shoulder, soft fur against your cheek and his tail wagging slightly. 

You cleared your throat to get her attention and her eyes widened, though she wasn’t overly surprised considering you're always causing a mischief she only pretends to find annoying. 

“No. No, we cannot have a dog,” she spoke, keeping her eyes on your face to avoid his.

“Aw, but look at him,” you pouted, using his paw to wave at her. “Hi, mom, I woof you.”

“That was terrible,” she groaned, unable to hide her smile at your silly grin. You both looked so adorable, both of you sporting puppy dog eyes. “We can’t keep him. He hasn’t got a name so it’s not too late fo-”

“He has got a name,” you interrupted. “I named him Hoagie and I love him.”

She hated how she couldn’t resist the pair of you and how her own body betrayed her when she cupped his face between her hands, letting him chew on her thumb excitedly. 

“You’re both gonna cause me a lotta trouble.”

“Yep,” you grinned largely, instantly grimacing at the sudden appearance of a certain smell you don’t care to sniff ever again. 

“I knew he was gonna be gassy,” Melissa groaned, pinching her nose between her fingers as she grabbed the air freshener. It would soon be clear that the cotton fresh spray would have to make a regular appearance.

[doetic]

Baby, it's cold outside - Ex Bf!Jschlatt x F!Reader

1/3 -> next part (coming soon)

Plot: Y/n had only planned to quickly grab the things she left at her newly-ex-boyfriend's house and leave, but an unforeseen snowstorm leaves her with no choice but to wait it out indoors with a very persistent Schlatt who's determined to piece back together their relationship. Warnings: Prior breakup, heated argument with yelling, characters are trapped inside during a dangerous snowstorm (but are safe), mention of possible death, quite a bit of swearing. Allusions to Schlatt being a functional alcoholic. Word Count: 4137

A/N: Finally it's done! This was so fun to write! Thank you for the positive response on the teaser, I appreciate it a lot! I really feel as if I could have added more but it was getting long and I was in a hell of writing an additional scene then deleting it and rewriting it, it was an endless cycle and I would have been working on this forever. I also am rusty when it comes to writing and keep changing tenses, sorry if there's anything I missed in editing. Changed Schlatt from Jason to Jacob mid fic so if he's referred to as Jason, you didn't see that. Requests are open btw!!

The house, although obviously lacking any ability to have emotions of its own, felt strangely sorrowful as Y/n gingerly stepped inside, stomping the snow off her boots and onto the mat. Rationally she knew it was likely her own shoved down emotions being projected onto the relatively blank canvas, although she wouldn't willingly delve too far into that concept. She desperately wanted to believe she was completely over her now ex-boyfriend Jacob Schlatt, especially as she was the one who had initiated and insisted on breaking up. Unfortunately, Y/n was smart enough to know that no matter how much she insisted to herself that she no longer needed or wanted her former boyfriend of five years, the truth of the matter would still continue to nag at her whenever she thought of him. It was better to avoid both Schlatt and any related introspection altogether, an impossible task when she stood inside their once shared house to collect her things.

The soft mrow of Jambo's call sounded through the entryway, the little orange cat quickly padding over to Y/n and rubbing himself against her feet as she removed her boots and other winter gear. She bent down to pet the small creature on his head, the softness of his fur against her hand was a calming sensation that brought a bit of ease to her sorrowful feelings. Y/n had missed the little guy deeply, but with Schlatt’s exorbitant income as a popular youtuber/streamer/businessman she knew Jambo would have a better life staying with Schlatt, as painful as it was to part ways. The orange tabby, who was now licking her index finger, had felt like her only companion at times while Schlatt was consistently busy with streaming, editing, or managing the businesses he helped run.

As if her thoughts had been a siren's song to lure him close, heavy, hesitant footsteps approached the entryway after a few purr-filled minutes passed by. Y/n tried to act calm and collected for her own dignity, not moving from her crouched position besides tilting her head up to meet the pained red eyes of her former lover.

Schlatt looked dishevelled. His hair was a mess and the headband that usually sat atop his head to keep the wild brown locks from falling into his face was shockingly missing. From the looks of his hair, and his mutton chops too, he was neglecting a much needed small trim. Usually it was her designated job to do so, solely because she insisted on it as sweet bonding time, something their relationship began to lack greatly as the years went on. He wore his green Polizei sweatshirt, the one Y/n had praised as her favourite many times for the way it made him look irresistibly amazing to cuddle with. Uncharacteristically, the sweater looked like it hadn’t left his body in a while, an odd thing for the usually clean and organised man. 

Most people would delight in seeing their ex-partner in such a state without them, and although Y/n couldn’t lie and say Schlatt’s miserable appearance didn’t give her a miniscule bit of satisfaction. Clearly he was now realising how important she was to his life after he had made less and less time for her in the end years of her relationship, the feelings of pity and remorse that washed over her as the nearly empty bottle of Jack held in his hand, and the smell of alcohol that wafted off of him became more glaringly obvious and concerning the more she inspected him. 

"I thought you were coming tomorrow," He stated simply, his voice carrying a bit of strain within.

"I texted you that I would be coming on the 25th, that's today. But if there's an issue I can come back another time," Y/n replied, the house’s entryway where they stood feeling suffocatingly uncomfortable as a result of their former relationship. It had felt like months since the last time they saw each other, the night Y/n stormed out for good, but in reality it was at most two weeks.

"No!" Schlatt's voice was filled with desperation, his eyes began to water as a sudden panicked shout escaped him at the mention of Y/n leaving "...No. It's fine. Today is fine." He cleared his throat and recollected himself to the best of his ability. "I'm sure you remember where everything is. There's boxes for you in the kitchen, I'll be editing in the bedroom." 

As always, Y/n wanted to bitterly add. Instead she bit her tongue, wanting to keep the peace so she could be in and out quickly.

"Thank you, Jacob," Y/n replied quietly, lacking the confidence to say the name much louder. She had never called him Jacob. Sure it was his first name, but it was something everyone else called him, never ever her. Up until this point she had only ever called him Jay. She had to fight back the urge to correct herself, wanting to set boundaries to create space and ensure she wouldn’t run back to him.

Schlatt picked up on this, his breathing picking up slightly in alarm, a stifled whimper just barely escaping from his throat.

"Y-yeah," His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. "Well, you're welcome," His sadness turned to anger, as did most of his emotions when they became too much for him to handle. He spat the words out like they were venom before turning around and lurking back to the–

No. 

His bedroom.

Y/n let out a shaky breath she hadn't noticed she was holding, giving a weak smile to Jambo. “Men. Am I right, bud?” She tried to make light of the situation with her comment, giving the cat a scritch behind the ears before getting up and heading to grab the boxes, wanting to leave as soon as possible.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

The kitchen had been taken over by ghosts.

“Jayyyy! Stop it!” Y/n giggled, putting her arms up to defend herself from the second handful of soap bubbles Schlatt scooped up from the sink and prepared to blow into her face.

She should have known better than to accept his help with the dishes. Although he certainly had, and often exercised, the capability to be calm and introspective, once something got him going he became a major troublemaker. All in good fun, of course. Y/n didn’t mind it all too much though. Sure, he was a menace, but he was her menace.

 Besides, the dishes could wait. Moments where Schlatt was both sober and free of any work related obligations were increasingly few and far between these days. Y/n always tried to be understanding and supportive, but she couldn’t help but feel rejected, especially when his work related obligations often involved wildly charismatic female friends of his who could easily pass for models. 

Y/n knew jealousy wasn’t a good look, but it was hard not to feel such a way when she had to sit on the sidelines as a secret only Schlatt and his closest friends knew of, and watch helplessly as people online fawned over him or shipped him with women she felt like she could never possibly compare to. Y/n knew that talking to Schlatt about her concerns before they grew into a deep resentment was the right thing to do, but each time she tried to get him alone to discuss it she was brushed off. Then, on the rare occasion he was alone, sober, and not preoccupied, Y/n couldn’t bring herself to ruin the only time she had to truly feel like a couple again.

Sure, she was living in her own personal hell, but at least she had these moments of domestic bliss. For now, they were enough.

“Come on babe, I’m not gonna blow it at you!” Schlatt promised, moving the handful of soap away from his mouth. “Don’t you trust your boyfriend?” He couldn’t fully hide the catlike grin that pulled at his lips, a smile Y/n had learned to never trust.

“No! You’re despicable!” Y/n dipped her hand into the warm, soapy water and flicked it at him. “Begone foul demon!” 

“Demon?” Schlatt tsk’d at her, taking a step closer and looking down at her mischievously. “You’ve got it all wrong, toots. I’m a man of the lord. You’re the demonic one here with how tempting you are. My very own succubus…” His words flowed from his mouth like honey, the husky tone along with his hand tucking a stray clump of hair behind her ear making Y/n blush.

“Tempting? Well, why don’t you show me exactly what I tempt you to do?” Y/n breathed the words out, placing a hand on his cheek.

“Gladly.”

Y/n closed her eyes as he leaned down to kiss her, his arm wrapping around her waist and holding her firmly against his body. Just when she felt his warm breath tickle her face, the anticipation for the kiss beginning to gnaw hungrily at her, a soft pressure hit her head and was quickly followed by a small trickle of water and bubbles beginning at her scalp and running down the bridge of her nose.

“You asshole!” She playfully hit his chest, unable to contain her grin as he continued to hold her tight against his body with his superior strength.

Schlatt chuckled, kissing the top of her head despite the bubbles that remained there.

“You know you love me.”

Y/n roughly wiped her teary eyes against the back of her sleeve. Quickly, she grabbed the four boxes that sat on the island and rushed out of the room to gather her stuff, but not before sending a pained glare to the kitchen sink.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

It was an irrefutable fact in Y/n’s mind that in recent years her luck had been waning. But, when the lightbulbs began flicker and promptly lose all power along with the rest of the house as soon as she placed down her last box, Y/n was happy at least the god of timing was smiling down upon her, even if Lady Luck wasn’t.

Y/n glanced out the window, seeing nothing but a sea of white. The already thick flurries from earlier had grown into a full-on blizzard in the hour she was collecting her things. Luckily the bits of light that managed to make it through the heavy snow and flow through the large front window illuminated the entryway in lieu of the now non-functional lights, allowing Y/n to see what she was doing as she gathered one of the boxes into her arms for her first trip to her car. With the storm getting so bad that the power went out, Y/n knew her window of opportunity to leave was rapidly fading away. Waiting it out with Schlatt was not an option. it would be too painful, a harsh reminder of what they once had. Shifting the box's weight to one arm, Y/n used her other one to open the front door.

"Are you insane?" Schlatt shouted from the doorway into his office. He quickly rushed over, his hand darting out to quickly shut the front door before Y/n could exit through it and head into the thick, opaque wall of white that laid outside. "It's snowing so hard you wouldn't be able to see your hand in front of your face! You'd get killed trying to drive out there!" Despite his angry demeanor, Y/n knew Schlatt well enough to see through it as a cover up for his concern.

She couldn't help but scoff in response to his worry, even though she knew he was right about the danger. Reluctantly relenting, Y/n placed her things down. "Yeah, you're right. I shouldn't drive." She glanced out of the house's front window. "But don't you dare act like you'd care if I got hurt."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Schlatt's hand darted out to grab Y/n's arm and turn her to face him, the softness of his grip a stark contrast to the harsh desperation of his movements.  "I'm not the bad guy here. I'm not the one who ended things, I'm the one who's fighting for us!"

"Yeah, I know. You won't stop blowing up my phone and acting like you're such a fucking martyr for it." Y/n pulled her arm out from his grasp, glaring up at the larger man. "Don't act like you're some innocent, blameless party who I oh so greatly wronged. Neither of us were perfect in our relationship, neither of us could give the other what they needed."

Schlatt looked appalled at her statement. "Don't speak for me! You gave me everything I needed, everything I could have possibly wanted!"

"Don't delude yourself, Jacob, I could never be good enough for you. I could never be good enough for your life." Y/n's eyes were full of resentment. "But even if so, what did I get in return? A boyfriend who's always too busy to spend time with me, and when he does find time, he's drunk? A partner I can't even talk about to anyone? A five-fucking-year relationship with a man who refuses to pop the question while he builds his brand by flirting with other people to an audience of millions?" Y/n's face contorted in sorrow as she desperately held back her tears.

"Why didn't you tell me this before? Why did you let this grow worse until you broke?"

"When could I have sat you down to tell you? You hardly even had time in your schedule to eat the meals I made." Y/n snapped. Schlatt stayed silent, unable to refute. She sighed. "Face it, Jacob. You can't love me in the way I need you to without giving up everything you've built."

Tension thickened the air into cement as the two stared silently at each other, daring the other to say something first. Hesitantly, Schlatt opened his mouth to speak. "I would have given it all up for you in an instant." His voice was gentle and meek.

Y/n turned away from him to hide the tears that finally overflowed and spilled down her cheeks. Oh how her heart soared at those words, but Y/n knew taking up his offer would mean cruelly ripping his passion and a lifetime of hard work away from him. Y/n couldn't possibly entertain the idea of doing that to someone she loved.

"I'm going to check on Jambo. Just let me go."

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Hours later the light faded from the outside, the room only illuminated with the many candles Y/n had lit. Y/n shivered with slightly chattering teeth as she sat on top of Schlatt’s bed, a throw blanket pulled tightly around her body by her hands that were beginning to bear blue-tinted fingernails. She was alone in the room with her stubborn pride, Jambo abandoning her minutes ago. 

It would be so incredibly easy for her to crawl under the covers, to be embraced by the warm, plush duvet she had insisted Schlatt purchase as a housewarming gift for themselves after they were wishing they had one during the last snowstorm they endured. Part of Y/n longed to just say fuck it to everything and crawl under, but a louder part of herself insisted it would be giving in. To what? She wasn’t sure. However, her resolve was quickly fading as her body grew more cold.

The bedroom door creaked open and the light of a flashlight lit up the room.. Y/n looked up from the bed, her eyes meeting Schlatt’s.

“It’s freezing.”

With Y/n shivering so much she didn’t have the energy for negativity, nor the energy to respond at all, instead she pulled the blanket tighter around herself.

Schlatt sighed, crossing the room and coming to a seat beside her. He placed the flashlight on the end table, keeping it on for more lighting. In his hands he held a different bottle of Jack than the one from earlier, this one appearing freshly opened, save for a few missing swigs.

“Apparently drinking will warm you up. I don’t think it actually does to be honest, but surely waiting out a snowstorm with some alcohol in your system is better than waiting it out completely sober,” He explained, gingerly holding the bottle out to Y/n.

After a few seconds of debating, Y/n reached out and accepted his offer, wincing as her nearly numb hands came in contact with the ice cold glass. Quickly she took a large gulp before handing the bottle back to Schlatt.

“It doesn’t work,” Y/n confirmed quietly.

Schlatt exhaled a small chuckle. “Thank you for peer reviewing my theory.” He examined the bottle in his hands before taking a sip of his own. “It’s always impressed me how you could drink liquor so easily from the first time you tried it.” He offered the bottle to her once again.

Y/n accepted the bottle and stared down the neck of it for a few moments in embarrassment. “It wasn’t actually easy until recently, I just didn’t want to be the girl in that Carrie Underwood song.” This time she took a smaller sip before handing it back.

The hint of a grin tugged at Schlatt’s lips. “That checks out…”

He brought the bottle to his lips but paused before he drank any, seemingly lost in thought. He screwed on the cap and placed the bottle on the end table. Y/n couldn't stop the small, proud smile that forced itself onto her face, an action that hurt with the stiff coldness of her cheeks. Despite the happiness that seeing Schlatt stop himself from drinking had brought her, the action showing he truly listened to her words from earlier, Y/n didn't draw attention to it to avoid any possible embarrassment on his behalf.

Y/n looked away quickly when Schlatt turned his head to glance at her, jumping when the back of his hand made gentle contact with her cheek. 

“God, you don’t just look like you’re freezing. You feel it too,” He muttered. 

Y/n moved her head away from his delightfully warm touch. “It’s fine.”

With a sigh, Schlatt stood up from his seated position on the bed, pulling out a corner of the blanket and gesturing for her to get in. “You’re going to get sick.”

“No, Jacob, It’s fine,” She insisted, although the prospect was growing more tempting by the second.

“I don’t know why you need to make this so difficult, Y/n. It’s cold, you’re cold, just get in the damn warm bed. You don’t need to be so prideful!”

Y/n rolled her eyes. “Fine,” she mumbled, trying to seem angry as she quickly scrambled under the covers, hoping he didn’t notice how she melted into the mattress contentedly.

Schlatt followed her in.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?” She protested, shocked.

“It’s cold as fuck, are you really going to make me freeze just because we broke up?” Schlatt asked. “Besides, I’m not going to try anything. I’m a gentleman.”

“You’re a schlentleman, there’s a difference,” She huffed and looked away from him, instead she chose to gaze up at the white popcorn ceiling. 

“And what’s the difference? It just sounds funnier?”

“No, the difference is that you’re Jacob Schlatt. You’re always up to something. Usually it’s funny, but I’m not in the mood right now. I just want to go home.”

Schlatt was silent for a few moments, but didn’t move. Y/n could feel his warm leg ever so slightly touching hers, a small connection that seemed to warm her body in more ways than just temperature.

“How’s your new place treating you?” He asked.

“Good…” She thought about it for a few moments. “Good. It’s just a studio apartment. Huge windows.”

“You’ve always loved those,” Y/n swore that she could hear a bittersweet smile in his voice. “You got that window seat you’ve always wanted?”

“No, not yet. Maybe one day,” She sighed hopefully, the picture of reading or doing her work while seated on one dancing into her mind. “Any issues with the house?”

“No, shockingly,” He laughed. “It’s a relief after all the housing issues we’ve been through.”

“Yeah…” Y/n agreed, reminiscing on all the problems they’d been through together. They were the only stable thing in each other's lives in a time of seemingly impossible to get through instability, and now that was over. Her chest tightened. “I’m glad things are going good for you, Jacob.” She turned her head to look at him, a small smile on her lips.

His brown eyes met her own, staring into her. “You and I both know that things are not going good.”

She gulped, looking back up at the ceiling, unable to handle the intensity of his stare and words.

“Things just wouldn’t work out between us,” Y/n tried to explain.

“Why? Why not?” Schlatt begged, making her face him again. “I told you, I’d give up my career for you!” 

“I don’t want you to! You’ve spent so long on it, it makes you so happy. And…” She swallowed, trying to keep the words from coming out. “I’m not special or important enough for that.”

Schlatt’s eyes widened. “Where’d you get that idea? Y/n, I was with you for five years, you’re the most amazing person I know!” His hands cupped her cheeks and Y/n had to stop herself from dissolving into his comforting, warm touch.

“You never showed it! You were always busy, I always had to hide our relationship. I’ve just always felt unwanted…” Her vision grew blurry with the forming of tears. “It’s no matter now, it’s over.”

They stayed like that for what felt like hours, Schlatt looking guiltily into Y/n’s eyes as he tenderly held her face. Realistically it was only a few minutes until the larger man hesitantly moved closer to Y/n, his slightly chapped lips pressing against hers. Y/n’s brain screamed at her, not for her sinking into the action and accepting it, but for pushing him away in the first place. She had been fighting with her true feelings for too long, and now she didn’t have the strength to continue.

“Tell me, tell me if you don’t want this and I’ll stop for good. I’m not going to force you to love me if you don’t want to.” His face was nervous and hopeful as he pulled away. “But if you have any doubts about that at all, I’ll keep fighting for you. For us. I’ll do whatever I can to make things right.”

Y/n opened and closed her mouth slightly a few times, she found herself unable and unwilling to form a protest. She wanted this, she wanted him. She didn’t want to keep running. With his touch, everything suddenly felt fixable. No longer did everything seem like a large, unclimbable mountain. All their problems sunk into the shape of hills.

“Please, do that again.” She whispered.

Schlatt grinned.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

The sunlight flowed through the window, illuminating Schlatt in its rays of gold. Y/n pulled herself into a sitting position and watched him for a few moments before she slowly crawled over him in an attempt to get out of the bed without waking him. Still dressed in the clothes she had arrived in, Y/n quietly moved to the door on the tips of her toes.

“Y/n?” Schlatt’s tired and anxious voice sounded from the bed.

“Go back to sleep,” She urged.

“Are you leaving?” 

“I can’t stay in bed all day.”

“Please, don’t go,” He begged, sitting up.

“Get back in bed, go back to sleep,” She rushed over, gently placing a hand on his chest and pushing him back into the mattress. 

His hand grabbed her wrist, keeping her from leaving. “I thought we worked this out last night, we promised to communicate. Y/n, talk to me. What’s going on?” His brow furrowed.

She huffed. “I was trying to make you breakfast in bed, but I wasn’t sneaky enough.”

Schlatt’s face softened as he pulled her onto his body, hugging her close. “Don’t scare me like that!”

“I’m sorry, please let me up. Even if it’s no longer a surprise I need to make breakfast” Y/n tried to get away but his strong arms kept her still.

“Baby, it’s cold outside. Come lay with me where it’s warm. Just for a few minutes?” He pleaded.

She relented, his begging making her body warm with the feeling of being loved. “Of course Jay, just for a few minutes.”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Schlatt tags: @d444zed

[ninjadeathblade]

Haircut (a Nimona fanfic)

Summary: Ballister has to cut Ambrosius' hair after making a present went wrong.

Fluff

Warnings: None

Word count: 777

Author's notes: I FINALLY GOT THEM TO ADMIT FEELINGS! Also, this is super short. But i did add the confession (it wasn't originally in this). Enjoy!

Ballister knocked delicately on the door to Ambrosius' room, listening carefully, waiting for a reply.

"Who is it?"

"It's Ballister."

"Yeah, come in!" Ambrosius responded cheerfully. Ballister opened the door, jaw going slack as he looked at his friend. Ambrosius held a haphazard lump of wood, a knife beside him on the floor and a hot glue gun in his other hand. There was sticky, melted glue all over the carpet and somehow in his long blonde hair as well.

"What the fuck did you do?!" Ballister swore, crossing the room carefully to avoid the mess.

"I was trying to make you a present," Ambrosius mumbled, holding out the lump of wood. Ballister examined the vaguely love-heart shaped carving, lumpy glue surrounding the middle in a line from top to bottom. "Do you like it?" Ballister looked up from the malformed gift, at Ambrosius' nervous expression.

"It's great but you didn't have to go through all the trouble," Ballister said softly. Ambrosius grinned at him, standing up. Strands of glue ripped from the floor and attached to his trousers.

"I did. It's our friend-iversary."

"Our what?"

"Anniversary of our friendship. Ten whole years Bal!" Ambrosius explained and Ballister chuckled.

"Again, you didn't need to use up however much time you spent to do this," Ballister said matter-of-factly. Ambrosius rolled his eyes as they both walked through to his bathroom. Ballister picked up a sponge and some soap, beginning to scrub at Ambrosius' locks. "It's not coming out."

"Try brushing it…?" Ambrosius suggested hesitantly. Ballister picked up the hairbrush next to the sink, trying to drag it through his friend's hair. Ambrosius almost immediately let out a shriek and Ballister scowled as the brush tangled in his hair.

"No, this is gonna need scissors." Ballister felt sympathetic as Ambrosius' eyes widened.

"But it's so pretty. I don't want it cut," Ambrosius whined and Ballister agreed. His long blonde curls were stunning and reached down to the bottom of his shoulder blades. But right now, they were ratty and tangled and had a brush stuck in them.

"It'll be ugly forever if you don't let me cut it," Ballister warned. Ambrosius looked like he wanted to cry at the news.

"Do it. But if you make it ugly then you have to let me cut your mustache and beard," Ambrosius threatened. Ballister took a deep breath before chopping off the first chunk of hair from the right side of his face. An hour passed of him carefully trying to sculpt his friend's hair before it was finally finished. Ballister put down the scissors, nervously biting his lip.

"You probably think it looks shit." Ballister watched as Ambrosius carefully reached up and ran his hand across his hair. He seemed pleased with the left side, which Ballister had managed to salvage some of and had left at ear length. As soon as he reached the right side, his smiled dropped and he smoothed his hand across the short, cropped hair. Ambrosius pushed last Ballister, looking in the bathroom mirror. Ballister picked up the wooden love-heart, holding it close to his chest.

"It's beautiful." Ballister almost missed Ambrosius' awed whisper.

"What?"

"This haircut. Absolutely metal," Ambrosius assured him, turning around and offering him a smile.

"Oh." Ballister felt dumb as he said it. Ambrosius wrapped an arm around his waist, leading him out the bathroom back to where the glue had hardened on the floor.

"Wanna order out some nachos and watch a movie?"

"Sure."

"I'm still gonna cut your mustache and beard."

"Okay."

"God, will you react to anything I say in a non-basic way?!"

"Never."

"Ha! You said something non-basic!" Ballister chuckled as the two of them sat down on Ambrosius' bed. Ambrosius scrolled through his phone, ordering the nachos while Ballister flicked through channels on the TV. "Hey Bal?"

"Yeah?" Ballister glanced down at where Ambrosius was curled into his side. Ambrosius looked nervous as he balled one hand into a fist, the fabric of Ballister's shirt getting mixed up in it.

"Have you ever found guys attractive?" Ballister froze for a second as he registered the question.

"Um, yeah." Ballister didn't add on the part about finding Ambrosius attractive.

"Would you ever go out with a guy?"

"If he was like you then of course," Ballister instinctively replied before recognising what he'd said. Ballister let out a high pitched sort of squeak as he did so, wanting to immediately leave.

"Bal, would you go out with me?" Ambrosius asked slowly, sitting up. Ballister nodded shyly.

"Of course."

"Great! Nachos are here in five," Ambrosius stood up, walking away.

"Get back here! You can't just walk off after that conversation!"

[dulcewrites]

One Step Forward, Two Steps Back (modern au)

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x reader (wc: 3.6k)

Summary: Sometimes Aegon is sure that the Gods like playing tricks on him. Your reintroduction into his life only proves that further

A/N: the time has come for my Aegon work!! I’m so excited because this also my first time doing an modern au. I explained the idea more here. This will include all the hotd hits: mommy issues, daddy issues, the Targs being an all around messy family. This is my contribution to the tgc Aegon universe 🫡. Slight house keeping: Aemond has both of his eyes in this universe but the sight in one eye is diminishing/has been diminished over the years. Also there are certain elements I will be taking from hotd/asoiaf and the Faith of the Seven is one.

Blog masterlist

You had always assumed that therapist offices would be sterile and cold. Or at the very least, annoyingly put together.

Cregan Stark’s office is nothing of the sort.

From deep red floors to the walls of antic books and shelves filled of knickknacks. The office is not what you expected to it be. It only makes you more anxious for this whole ordeal. The only indication of his credentials as a professional being the certificate from the University of Cambridge hanging on the wall. Even the laidback nature of him made you pause. Call me Cregan. Mr. Stark was my father.

Long brown hair pulled back, dark beard, stormy grey eyes, topped off with a flowy button-down shirt. He looks better suited chopping down wood somewhere than helping university students. Everyone seemed weary of the new addition to the dance department.

Your eyes flutter to the clock behind him then back to his warm eyes.

“I am sure you are wondering why I wanted to speak with you,” his voice is soft. There is an element of mirth that has you raising a brow.

You shrug in response. “Taking inventory of the inmates, I assume.”

The joke does seem not seem to land the way you thought it would. He gives you a incredulous look before shaking his head. Your mother always told you that your inability to keep to certain thoughts in your head would get you in trouble sooner or later.

“My new position here is to help the dancers, especially ones transitioning out of school, handle this year,” he begins. “A sounding board if you will. Listen to any problems. Assist with finding resources and opportunities beyond this point.”

You nod slowly, still not understanding why this meeting is cutting into your warmup time. Instinctively, you point then flex your foot in your fuzzy black boot. Your eyes go back to the clock. Gods, Aemond is going to tear into you if this does not wrap up soon.

“Most of the notes were positive,” he replies quickly, reading the furrow in your brow. “Bright, hard-working, and diligent were just a few things said.”

“Most of the notes were positive,” he replies quickly, reading the furrow in your brow. “Bright, hard-working, and diligent were just a few things said.”

“Most of the notes were positive,” he replies quickly, reading the furrow in your brow. “Bright, hard-working, and diligent were just a few things said.”

“Most of the notes were positive,” he replies quickly, reading the furrow in your brow. “Bright, hard-working, and diligent were just a few things said.”

You let a breath you were holding in. Of course, that was what was said. You have dedicated your life to this; you expect nothing less than comments like that. They are sentiments you should not think but you know you are one of the most talented dancers in the program.

But then your mind drifts to something.

“Most?”

He gives you a pained smile. “There were a couple of comments that expressed concern about your… intensity and your health.”

You blink blankly at him.

“I don’t think I am any more intense than any other student here. We are all very serious about our art.”

Cregan nods. “I was informed about an incident that happened in your second term here. Something quite awful.”

Your blood runs cold, and you sniff stiffly in response. Please don’t you think.

“I am sorry for your loss.”

You try to keep your eye from twitching. There was a time in your life where all you wanted was someone to tell you that. To let you know that they feel bad for the situation you found yourself wallowing in… for the situation Marina found herself in.

That time is over.

“It has been over a year and a half,” you plaster on a smile. “Thank you for that, but I am doing fine.”

It was not lie. It really wasn’t.

Cregan hums softly. “Why don’t you and I make a deal. We meet each other once a week for the rest of the term. We can talk about how you are doing, and work towards you graduating.”

You feel your patience wearing horribly thin. It is not that you have a problem with therapy or counseling. You just don’t need it nor want it.

“Look, I appreciate the concern. I just don’t have time for weekly meetings. I have auditions for companies, finishing my classes strong. Also, an end of the year project… which is not going well so far.”

Your eyes go back to clock above him. You are so fucked.

“I do not have the time,” you repeat, not even clarifying if you mean for the meetings or this conversation. “I have too much on my plate.”

Cregan smiles, easy and cool. It softens the sternness that has settled into his long face.

“That is exactly why we need to do it.”

A sinking feeling gathers in your stomach. He is not going to take no for an answer, is he?

As you leave the room, new schedule in hand, all you can think about is how much you despise Cregan Stark. Your ire extends to whatever instructor told him you needed help in the first place. The walk to the practice studios is cold and damp. Somber weather matching the way you feel.

You must take a deep breath before going into the practice room. Aemond, perched at the piano, shoots you a glare. Ignoring his eyes burning into your back, you sit on the floor to put on your pointe shoes.

“I know you have little care for my time,” his voice cut through the room. Low and condescending. “But if you want to get through this, the least you can do is show up on time.”

You do not answer immediately, eyes focused on your shoes.

“It is just common sense.”

Aemond continues to lecture you about the importance of respecting people’s time. Perhaps if you told him about your meeting, he would let it go. But then again based off the few weeks you have spent with him, you know once he gets started, it is hard to stop him. His voice fades in the background as you stare at yourself in the mirror.

In your head, you repeat the affirmations you recite every morning.

You are talented, you are grounded, you are alive.

Aegon could not help but stare at the rain as it fell and splintered on the large class windows of the meeting room.

When he was younger, he hated the rain. The endless rolling clouds and damp days made him feel like he was in a bad nightmare. But the older he got, the more he started to appreciate the rain. Utterly soothed by the tip tap of rain against something solid. He could make a melody out of it. Plus, it helped him sleep.

He rarely got good nights of sleep.

The somber weather only added to the uninspiring atmosphere in the room. Aegon tried hard to listen. He fought hard to keep his eyes from glazing over. Placing fonder thoughts in his head kept him from outwardly expressing his boredom. Today, he thought of what he should get to dinner. Something hearty… or maybe something spicy. The thoughts lead to him texting his brother.

I can drive up. Want that Thai place around the corner from yr place

It took Aemond minutes to reply, but when he did it was a simple no. His brother was always a man of few words.

I’ll pay :)

He watched as the dots appear then disappear then reappear again. Aegon smiles at his phone when Aemond eventually says yes. He gives Aegon strict instructions to stay in the car and wait on him to come out.

“Aegon, are you listening?”

Aegon’s eyes shoot up from his phone to meet one that resembles his too much for comfort. Rhaenyra is eyeing him exasperated. There was slight tension at the beginning of the meeting when he gave her a funny look after she sat in the seat their father normally does. But he had no interest in arguing with Rhaenyra, at least not today.

“Yes, I hear you,” he clears his throat, and rubs one of his eyes.

“Long night?”

The smile is there when she says it but the words are condescending. Her smile works on others, but Aegon knows what lies beneath it. Such a delight to work with, Viserys would beam. Everything was easy when her eyes softened, and the corners of her lips go lopsided in a good-natured way. Aegon knows she must that to survive in this environment. Mask all her slender and confidence with smiles. He would respect it more if she did not try to play him like she does the other men in the firm.

Like he is one of father’s mindless cronies.

They share the same blood. Which means he knows they are both predisposed to thinking they know best by nature.

“I want to talk about reconsidering the pro bono option,” ok, maybe he does want an argument. Bothering Rhaenyra sparked a unique kind of joy in Aegon.

Rhaenyra’s brows furrow. Their brains had been hardwired differently by now; her business-oriented ideals sometimes working in direct contrast with the direction he thinks the firm should go in.

“I think the idea is one we should consider,” Tyland Lannister pipes up, voice chipper and full of mirth.

Rhaenyra’s gaze turns to him, completely unimpressed. Aegon had to bite back a smile. Tyland had a habit of siding with Aegon in meetings like this. The Lannisters, a family that has dipped their foot in any lucrative business they could find, not only had a history with Targaryens, but with the Hightowers as well. Rhaenyra had expressed to their father how much it bothered her. All she received was a wave of the hand; for all the special treatment he felt Viserys gave his eldest child, Aegon can say Viserys has never been good at laying down the law within the firm.

How he managed to run the company with that attitude was beyond Aegon.

With the slight support of Tyland, a couple of the other suits in the room nodded in agreement. Rhaenyra swallows, eyes shifting back to Aegon’s. When his sister is upset, he has noticed her eyes shift to a chill blue to a tempered iris.

She looks at him with a look that Aegon could only describe as pure exhaustion. The type of exhaustion that happens when you deeply resent someone. Somewhere down the line they took a sharp turn right, and never got back on track.

The irony of the distance between them, is that it was not always like that. His first memories of life are not with his mother, father, or even with the siblings he grew up in the same household with; they are with Rhaenyra. He has fuzzy recollections of teenage her blowing raspberries on his belly when he was a baby. They used to share knowing glances when their father went on tangents. She used to take him on trips to the park. Now Aegon finds himself wondering what things Rhaenyra whispers in Viserys’ ear when he is not around.

Maybe that was the last time Rhaenyra genuinely liked him. When he was younger with no motives or true thoughts of his own. He supposed he can’t blame her; that was the last time he liked being in his own body too.

There are times he looks at his sister, and he wants her to bring him into a hug. Rhaenyra always gave the best hugs, only rivaled by his mom. He wants to burst into tears and tell her that she was his first friend. That he needed her years ago. But then he remembers the look of disbelief he received when Viserys said Aegon would be working for the firm.

The coldness is better. His heart doesn’t break multiple times over anymore.

“Aegon and I can discuss that later,” Rhaenyra says after a minute. She stands to leave. “This meeting is over.”

She’s frustrated. He can tell by the way she leaves the room without a single glance his way. One thing they do have in common is the bone-chilling urge to flee a place whenever things get too difficult or when they get too annoyed. Could be self-preservation. Could be them sparring others the anger Targaryens are known for.

Aegon sits for a moment as everyone else filters out of the room. The rain comes down harder against the windows. He closes his eyes listening to way it bangs against the building.

Tip tap tip tap

He identifies with the rain. Moody, surly, gloomy.

———

By the time Aegon packs up to leave for Aemond, the rain had stopped. The clouds clearing out as the light leaves the sky.

He lets the top down on his car. The cool air nips at his tip of his nose and cheeks. It burns in the best way. Aegon sits at the front of the building that he knows Aemond will be in. He sits patiently for minutes, but then curiosity and impatience take over.

Whenever he is on the campus, he can’t help but want to take it all in. Look at all the buildings he can. Explore as if he was child again. He always thought it would be him to follow in his mother’s footsteps coming here, instead it was Aemond. He tries not to let the scratching bitterness work its way up his throat whenever they go home. The way Alicent frets and gushes over Aemond holds a special place in brain.

Her sweet, talented boy

He still does not know if she says it in front of him on purpose or by accident.

The building was nothing like the firm. Warm wood opposed to the glass and shiny metal he was used to. It was easy to know where Aemond would be, most of the lights in rooms dimmed except for one at the end of the hall.

He follows the piano he can hear faintly. Even though they are brothers, Aegon often feels like he is encroaching on something deeply personal when he hears Aemond play. Like he was hearing a part of Aemond he kept hidden from world. It made him peak in the room versus walking straight in.

He sees Aemond, eyes closed, playing a melody he does not recognize. It’s beautiful. But that is nothing out of the ordinary for Aemond.

Before he can finally make his presences known, a pair of legs obstruct his view. A graceful turn, followed by an acrobatic leap. All Aegon can is stare in slight awe, but he can’t help his mind from drifting to his mother. It reminds him of the black and white photos of her hanging in the foyer of their family home. Or the old videos of she used to show them when they were little.

He doesn’t know what he misses more - being that young or when Alicent wanted to share those things with them.

Before Aegon can finally walk in, the dancer stops abruptly turning to Aemond.

“Hmmmm,” she hums lowly. “I’m just not feeling it.”

Aemond lets out a guttural groan in response. He stands from the piano, roughly closing the top.

“You have not ‘felt’ the last two things I have composed.”

The dancer shrugs, not fazed by Aemond’s temperament. “Nothing has inspired me yet.”

He mumbled something under his breath, and Aegon watches as a head full of hair pulled pack in a ponytail snap back to his brother.

“What was that?”

Aegon knows that tone well. Him and Helaena would use it often when Aemond did that. They both hated when he would mumble under his breath. It always led to arguments that Alicent would have to break up. Aemond starts to gather the music sheets on the piano.

“Could be your tired routine that has everything feeling uninspired,” Aemond says louder.

“Oh please,” there is something so oddly familiar about the voice as it rings out. The insults don’t match the clear and sprite like nature of it. “If anything is tired, it is the cheap Rachmaninoff imitations you keep composing.”

“Gods, you’re such a….”

“Awe, what am I Aemond,” she doesn’t miss a beat. “tell me, so then I can tell you what you are. Because trust me if you think calling me a bitch is going to hurt my feelings, you should hear what people say about you.”

It makes Aemond falter. Aegon knows that deposited the tough face his brother puts on; he gets bogged down with what others think and expect of him. Aegon decides that maybe he should step in now.

“I think you both looked and sounded great,” he winced as soon as the words came out. His voice loudly ranges through the studio. Not entirely the smooth entrance it should have been. Aemond’s eyes shoot to Aegon; he seems to be getting that angry look from all his siblings lately.

Aegon freezes when his gaze meets big eyes staring at him incredulously. He recognizes the gentle slope of her nose, and the softness of her pretty face.

“Oh, fuck me.”

Aegon has a special talent for being foolishly. A knack for being numbingly unintelligent when it comes to feelings. At least that is what Daeron tells him.

“For someone so bright in other ways, you can be real stupid.”

But managing to include himself in the mess that is Aemond’s university life must be a new kind of low. This must be the Gods punishing him. The false promises he dishes out to women coming to finally bite him in the ass.

Her eyes go from Aegon to Aemond, then back to Aegon before she left out a chuckle of disbelief. “My life must be joke.”

Aegon opens his mouth to say something, but then realizes his mouth is the thing that got in him into this mess in the first place. His mouth on yours, his mouth on you, and his mouth’s ability to say sweet nothings at the drop of a hat. So all he can do is watch as you angrily put on your coat and tear off your dance shoes. While putting on your boots you turn to Aemond.

“Figure your shit out before reaching out to me again,” you hiss at him.

You don’t even spare Aegon another glance as you storm out. Leaving him with just the quick whiff of your sweet perfume.

The two brothers stand there in silence for a moment before Aemond finally speaks.

“I thought I told you to stay in the car?”

The drive to the Thai place was filled with Aemond cutting Aegon off by turning the radio louder and louder. He asks for what happened but seemingly shut down when the implication of what happened became clear.

“So, you fucked my project partner,” he mutters bitterly. “And then completely ghosted her after you promised you wouldn’t. On top lying about your last name.”

Aegon shakes his head, mouth full of tom kha khai. When he says it like that it sounds so awful.

“We did not have sex,” Aegon repeats. Then his shoulders slump. “But yes… we might have done… other stuff and I may have… not called when I said I would.”

Aemond scoffs, picking at his half-eaten curry. The brother bonding not going how Aegon wanted it to.

“I can apologize. I can send flowers.”

“No, absolutely not.” Aemond blanches. “You need to leave her alone. We are already not on the same page, the last thing I need is more issues with her.”

He did have a nice night with you. One of the better ones he can remember. It could why he was so apprehensive to reach out. It was just Aegon’s luck. He manages to fuck things up even when he says he won’t get attached and involved.

“Well, I guess I feel a little bit less bad about what I was going to tell you,” Aemond says, then clears his throat. “Criston asked about you again when we talked.”

Aegon says nothing in return. This dinner was a mistake. He had already had a bad day at work; everything has down spiraled from there.

“I invited him to my recital in a couple of weeks. I just thought I should give you heads-up if you decide to come.”

Aegon shrugs. “It is your recital; you can invite whoever you want.”

“Funny, mother said the same thing,” Aemond smiled, it not reaching his eyes. “I don’t get why you guys must take your feelings out on him. He was nothing but kind to us. Especially to you, he taught you everything you knew about drumming. He didn’t make you go ha-“

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” Aegon snaps.

What he really wants is a cold pint or a glass of wine, but he knows the look Aemond will give him if he orders one. Before a head-splitting headache comes on, Aegon asks for the check.

He wants to forget about the dinner. To forget about all the feelings that get stuck is him brain and keep him from functioning the way he wants to. Some nights he dreams about his siblings all being together, their father a distant memory. Other nights, he has nightmares of Alicent’s face contorted in pain and tears. Scared and disappointed.

But tonight, brought something different. Visions of soft lips, and a warm laugh flood his mind. Everything syrupy, and hazy in the best way. Not even Aemond’s words could break the succession of them.

Stay away from her

Aegon has always had trouble doing what he supposed to

[regret-roulette]

Doctor's Orders: Pursuit

Notes: I decided rather than giving you two vastly different nicknames (since that'll be confusing) you'll be using Zane and Zanni. Zane was during Akademiya days and Zanni is for the present. So they're hopefully close enough it doesn't confuse anybody. Also you can't tell me that Dottore wouldn't be in more than one Akademiya house. I don't believe it. Pairing: Dottore x Reader, onesided Kaveh x Reader Navigation: series masterlist CW: None

Summary: Kaveh liked you too much not to try and pursue you despite what everyone else might think.

“Excuse me!”

You finished bidding someone goodbye and turned around in time to see one of the newer Kshahrewar students running over. When they managed to catch up up, they clutched the large, rolled up pieces of drafting paper in one hand while the other rested on their knee while they bent over to catch their breath.

Just where did they sprint from to be so out of breath? Halfway across the Akademiya?

“I’m—I’m—”

“Kaveh, right?” You finished for him.

He was a promising student who just got accepted this year. The professors had high hopes for him and you even heard gossip about him in your own class. Something about how attractive he was? You admitted he had a nice face, but you didn’t have an interest in relationships. Not with so much work on your plate and the rumors of a sponsorship in Fontaine.

Wide-eyed, he looked up at you and the tips of his ears turned pink.

“You know who I am?” He sounded a little star-struck.

“Yes. I’ve heard good things about your work.” You said. It was a fact, not a compliment.

“Thank you! I’m honored—”

“Don’t be,” you interrupted. “Did you need something?”

Kaveh straightened himself.

“Yes! I have a project due soon and I was hoping to get your feedback on my latest draft.”

It wasn’t unusual for other students to get feedback from their peers, especially the newer ones looking for opinions from their seniors. You got them quite often with every new batch of new students. At least, until they were confident in their work enough they no longer felt the need to.

“Alright, I have some time. Shall we move to Daena?” You said and gestured to the door leading to the Akademiya’s library.

Kaveh’s face visibly brightened and he agreed. While the two of you walked, you had him fill you in on the assignment and the design he hoped to achieve.

He was thorough in his explanation, and it was easy to see the passion he had for it with the way his eyes continued to light up. He was a very expressive person, and you were sure if his hands weren’t occupied with holding his papers, that he would be just as animated with his arms as with his expression.

When the two of you arrived at an unoccupied table, he carefully unfurled his papers and laid them out, going over his designs. They were all well thought out and documented. He also had very elegant handwriting, you noted.

Truthfully, you weren’t sure why he was even asking for your insight. It was clear he knew what he was doing and had a talent for it. He might even surpass you given time.

“Your designs are good, solid.” You stated and pointed to one area that wasn’t as concise as the others. “I might recommend changing the design here. If this is Moseis’ class then they expect everyone to take current costs and accessibility of materials into account. They say that it’s prudent for an architect to be aware of what’s available and to not get caught up in frivolous designs without grounding.”

Kaveh plucked the feather from his hair and quickly scratched out the current notes he had.

“So I’ll need to research the available materials?” He asked.

When he looked at you for too long, you could see the tips of his ears turn pink again.

“Yes,” you explained. “There’s been an increase of Withering zones as of late and due to it, a lot of the trade routes from zones where wood can be chopped was cut off or forced to reroute. Since that could affect both prices and time, it’s best to use stone and change the design as necessary.”

Kaveh quickly looked down at his paper and made notes along the border of his work. Detailing what information you gave him about both the professor’s expectations and the changes to his draft. When he was done, he stepped back and smiled.

“Thank you!” He said.

He sounded genuine and you smiled.

“You didn’t really need my help, you know what you’re doing.” It was a fact, he did.

This time, even his cheeks dusted pink.

“You’re too modest, your insight was very helpful!" He said and then blush on his face grew a shade darker. "If you don’t mind, as a thank you, would you like to go get something—”

“Zane.”

Someone interrupted and instantly took your attention away from the young Kshahrewar student. Kaveh didn’t want to admit that he felt like someone whose bubble had just popped and crash landed him on the ground from cloud nine.

A stranger Kaveh didn't recognize off the top of his head walked over and stopped at the other end of the table, looking annoyed.

“Are you done babysitting?” They asked, sounding exactly as annoyed as they looked.

Kaveh watched a sly smile spread on your lips.

“Oh? Why? Do you need my help, Zandik?”

They rolled their eyes.

“Are you coming or not?”

Truthfully, Kaveh hoped you would say no considering how rude they were being, but rather than that you looked happier than you were just talking with him. Instead of declining, you shrugged your shoulders.

“If I must.” You said and gathered your belongings. “Good luck on your assignment, Kaveh!”

Kaveh straightened up and floundered for a moment on what to say. But before he thought of something, you were already by the stranger’s side and talking in an animated fashion he only ever saw from a distance.

Would there be a time you looked that excited to see him?

“Don’t get your hopes up.”

Kaveh jumped, and spun to see one of his friends from Spantamad standing there, watching you and Zandik as you headed for the exit.

“Get my hopes up?” He asked, genuinely curious.

As far as he knew, you weren’t seeing anybody. His friend frowned.

“They aren’t even interested in relationships and even if they were, I don’t think anybody can compete with Zandik. Imagine trying to compare yourself to him?” His friend scoffed.

“Zandik?” Kaveh lifted a brow.

“Yeah, he’s the student that’s currently in three different houses at once. Can you imagine the workload?” His friend said and shuddered.

Kaveh looked back over at the two of you and watched you disappear through the doors with a frown. So what if your friend was some sort of Akademiya genius? That didn’t make him any good at romance.

Besides, he wasn't one to give up so easily. He would stop if you turned him down, but until then there was no reason he couldn't at least try, right?

[pengychan]

[Baldur’s Gate III] A Deal in Three Acts: Act III

Title: A Deal in Three Acts Summary: Weeks since Raphael took temporary residence at Sharess’ Caress, Haarlep is bored. Still waiting for Tav to take him up on his offer, Raphael is frustrated. Tav chooses an interesting evening to show up with a counter-offer. Characters: Raphael, Haarlep, Tav. Rating: Explicit Status: Complete

Act I here Also on AO3

*** Sometimes the best reason to take a throne is finding out what getting railed on it feels like. ***

When Raphael awoke some time before sunrise, he found himself briefly wondering if the little mouse had undergone ceremorphosis while they slept, as she seemed to be holding onto him with entirely too many limbs.

But the skin against him was dry, smelling vaguely of leather and beeswax. A relief, that. Of all the experiences he may be open to, being enveloped in the tentacles of a mindflayer who may or may not make a meal out of his brain was not among them. The drawbacks of that night’s highly unusual negotiations would give him enough of a headache as things were.

He could not simply take back what he’d agreed to; loath as he was to admit it, the Illithid was a viable enough backup plan and the little mouse was insane enough to resort to it. He’d have to see it through, put it all in writing. And then, once the Crown was in his hands and Baator was at his feet… then he could set to work convincing her to revise the contract.

He may have been out-bargained now, but he’d turn the tide soon enough. He always did; patience was all he needed. No mortal had ever scored more than a temporary victory against him, which only made them lose all caution. It made the defeat that followed all the more bitter. And perhaps she wouldn’t even mind being bested in the long run.

I won’t leave until I see you sit on Asmodeus’ throne, she’d said, but surely she could be convinced to remain after that. She could see him rule the Hells, and understand he could do more, aim for greater things yet. If she wanted those she cared for safe, she only had to say so. It would only be a matter of time, and oh, he had time in abundance.

Raphael held back a smile, opened his eyes, and lifted himself up on an elbow. The little mouse shifted, but did not wake up. Her eyes - the one truly beautiful thing about her and so delightfully infernal, red pupils against black sclera - stayed shut. Somewhere in the next room he could hear the sound of water splashing, Haarlep’s faint humming as they took their time washing up. They’d had absolutely no hesitation to set him up for failure last night, and he ought to flay him for that. He probably would, but later.

For now, he had some damage control to do. Not the kind of damage control he usually did, but not the most unpleasant either.

Raphael lifted a hand to brush back her hair, a rich black but very obviously chopped off with a sharp dagger while sitting at a campfire. Something equally sharp must have cut into her cheek at some point, leaving a raised pink scar on livid skin. He wondered if it had happened in battle, or if it had been the result of a burst of uncontrolled magic turning on her.

Of all the types of magic sorcerers wielded, wild magic had always seemed the most inconvenient. It was unpredictable, and chaotic; the opposite of everything he believed power should be. How it served her well enough to carry her and her companions that far was a mystery to him. But then again, it suited her. She was nothing if not annoyingly unpredictable.

Just as Raphael pulled away his hand there was a groan, and her eyelids fluttered. “Misza…?” she mumbled. Raphael had never heard that name, but made a mental note to try and find out more as her eyes blinked open and finally focused on him. “All right,” she muttered, and yawned. Rather than covering her mouth, she pressed it against his shoulder before pulling back again.  “Well. There are way worse sights to wake up to.”

Raphael raised an eyebrow. “Has anyone ever told you flattery is not your strongest suit?”

“I’ve been told I’m shit at complimenting people. That’s what you’re saying, yes? Just more elegantly.”

“... It is indeed.”

A quirk of her lips, and pulled back the arm that had been looped around his side so that she could reach up and brush back his hair. “You’re not a vampire though, are you? I don’t see fangs,” she added. Raphael wondered, faintly, if the tadpole in her head may have started to feed on her brain matter after all.

“I am not certain I’m following your line of thought, little mouse.”

“You can use a mirror.” She still sounded sleepy, and her hand paused to cup his face. The thumb brushed over his cheekbone. “You don’t need me to tell you you’re handsome.”

“Oh, he doesn’t need mirrors either,” Haarlep’s voice sing-sang from the next room. “He spends half his time looking at me. Or at portraits of himself. They’re on eeeevery wall.”

Yes, he was absolutely going to flay them. Raphael scowled, and turned to the doorway. “You-- back to the House of Hope. Now,” he snapped.

“I’m not done bathing.”

“I said now, incubus, or I’ll feed you your own skin!”

A long sigh, with Haarlep not even trying to sound intimidated or chastised as they should be. “Ah, what a cruel master I found myself bound to. You may want to run, little mouse, while you still--”

“Haarlep.”

A laugh, the whooshing noise of flames flaring up, and then there was only the sound of water rushing to fill up a space left empty all of a sudden. Raphael kept glaring at the doorway for a few moments and likely would have glared a few more, if not for the hand on his cheek turning his head back to her. She pressed her lips on the bridge of his nose, at the corner of his mouth.

“Do you threaten to flay them often?” she asked, chuckling, and Raphael scoffed. 

“Nearly every day.”

“And do you ever do it?”

“... They should count themself very lucky that they’re good at what they do.”

“Yes, it did sound like they knew what they were doing,” Tav commented. Raphael was acutely aware he’d made a spectacle of himself on that bed, and the slightest hint of mockery in her voice may have been enough to turn mild annoyance into raging fury. But there was no mockery, and thus there was no fury. Only a meeting of lips, a hand tangling in his hair.

Right. Damage control. He couldn’t allow himself to be sidetracked by the very same impertinent incubus who’d landed him in that situation to begin with. A frustrating situation if to be fair - and he nothing if not fair - not the most unpleasant he’d ever been in by a long shot. The little mouse was no incubus, and didn’t seem inclined towards another bout of passion just yet. She just kissed him, slow and lazy and content, running a hand down his chest while leaning back on the pillow. 

That suited Raphael well enough. If he was being honest, at least in his own private thoughts, he could not recall the last time he’d slept with anyone other than Haarlep. Nor could he recall the act ever being meant for anyone’s pleasure but his own. Haarlep had their pleasure with him, sure enough, but it was taken, not given. 

… She could take pleasure from him too, and the thought stirred heat in his lower belly. But he was not as confident in his own ability to last without the aid of a ring and frankly, he had disgraced himself enough that night. He broke the kiss before his breathing quickened, and cleared his throat.

“The water in the pool is always warm,” he said. “If you’d like to join me, as we discuss the finer details of the deal,” he added. Much as he enjoyed the sensation in bed, he’d rather not discuss contracts with dried semen coating the back of his thighs. She probably felt the same about the come - his come, he thought, and some of that heat tried to make a comeback - between her own.

A nod. “That sounds good.” A pause. “... I’ll need to get a message to Elfsong Tavern before Astarion comes looking for me. I think you’ve had your fill of people walking in unannounced.”

“Ah, I see. He’d have come to seek you come morning, in case you ran afoul of me?” 

“Yes.”

Raphael tilted his head, and clicked his tongue. “That wounds me, little mouse.”

“That I wanted insurance, or that I thought myself and a vampire spawn could take you on?”

“Honestly, both.”

A quirk of her lips, that hand cupping his face, the thumb stroking his cheekbone again. He leaned into it without thinking as she spoke. “Apologies. Let me send him a message, and I’ll kiss it better. Do you have something I can write with?”

Raphael was never without a sizable supply of ink, quills and paper. The little mouse penned the message quickly, blew on the ink to dry it, and folded it before turning back to him. Raphael gestured for her to return to the bed, and pulled the sheets up to cover them both to an acceptable degree before snapping his fingers.

Korrilla materialized in the room mid-laugh, with her eyes squeezed shut and a mug of something in her hand. “Oh, come on! I don’t believe for a second that out of all the moments he could find to propo-” she trailed off, quite suddenly, and her eyes blinked open. They found the bed and the laugh faded, leaving behind something more akin to a rictus. Her eyes moved from Raphael to Tav, then back to Raphael. 

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Tav wave, but Korrilla did not return the gesture. Instead she sighed, took a generous swig from the mug, and reached up to press her free hand over her eyes for a moment. “I did not need to see this,” she said, voice flat. Raphael scoffed. 

“You don’t need that tongue in your mouth either, yet I’m generous enough to let you keep it,” he informed her, his tone alone making it clear he could change that on a whim. He’d had quite enough of his underlings disrespecting him before his-- future kingdomcrowning glory-- ticket to the Crown of Karsus. “But an end to my generosity can be arranged,” he added, “if you don’t cease offering your input when it’s not required.”

Korrilla pressed her lips together, and was clever enough not to make other remarks. Raphael took the folded piece of paper from the little mouse’s hand, and held it out. “I need you to deliver this to Elfsong Tavern, for the attention of the vampire spawn--”

“It may be best not to call him a vampire spawn in front of the owner,” the little mouse cut him off. Raphael paused, and had to concede it was a fair point. 

“... Of course. To the attention of Astarion.”

“Right,” Korrilla said, just a little too mechanically, and took the note while standing as far from the bed as her arm’s length allowed her. It was not very far. “Anything else?”

“If you could stop by downstairs and let them know I’ll need their special herbal tea come morning,” the little mouse spoke up, “that would be really helpful.”

There was a sound that was almost a chortle. “Oh, definitely. I’ll do that.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. Really,” she added, and was gone in a swirl of sparks and sulfur before either of them could say anything more. Raphael tilted his head.

“I was not aware this place had its own special tea.”

“You wouldn’t need it,” the little mouse said with a shrug, and pushed the covers off herself to stand. “And you wouldn’t want it, either. It tastes absolutely vile.”

“Then why request it?”

A laugh. “Our deal doesn’t involve a firstborn or anything like it, does it?”

Raphael blinked. “It does not.”

She shrugged and gestured to her thighs, where he could see the dried seed that had leaked out of her. “Then I really should be having those herbs in the morning.”

Right. That. Raphael cleared his throat with a nod. “Ah, I see. Of course,” he said, words uncharacteristically clumsy in his mouth. He was rather relieved when she turned to walk to the pool without another word on the subject, and all too eager to follow her into the water.

The finer details of the deal were few and far inbetween, and made for a short discussion. Near everything of relevance had been said earlier, after all, and taking back his word now was not an option. Raphael summoned the contract with a snap of his finger - double copy and in the common tongue as requested, inappropriate as that felt - and begrudgingly conceded that she could take both back for the vampire spawn to read through before she returned and finally, she promised, signed both.

“You’re dangerously close to giving me a headache, little mouse,” he muttered, watching her put both copies on the floor next to the pool before sinking back in. She’d grinned.

“Is it a headache so bad a crown cannot soothe it?”

“... I suppose not,” he conceded, and it wasn’t a lie. The Crown of Karsus and the rule of all Nine Hells of Baator would certainly soothe him a great deal. For a time.

The pool was a far cry from the restoration pool in the House of Hope, but hardly anything on that Plane could compare to his residence. It was adequate, if nothing else, with good quality soap and clean towels at hand, the perfume in the water not too cloying. It was definitely more than Tav had enjoyed in a long while, if ever, because she took her time washing up.

“If not for the Elder Brain to take care of,” she finally spoke, rinsing the last of the soap from her hair, “I’d never get out of here.”

Raphael chuckled, throwing some water on his face before he stood and looked around for another bar of soap. “My invite to come dine at the House of Hope has never been rescinded. If you’re inclined--” to join me in my boudoir, he’d meant to say, but he trailed off when he felt her tail wrap around his calf, soap-lathered hands stroking up his back. To his annoyance, he didn’t catch himself on time to stifle a sharp breath. “If you’re angling for more concessions--”

“Not at all,” the little mouse replied, voice light. Her hands lathered his back in long, slow strokes, and her tail went up his leg. “That deal is as good as done. I was thinking we may discuss my other proposal. Me coming to the Hells to help you fight this war.” Her hands slipped around his waist, her chest pressed against Raphael’s back. Her tail brushed the inside of his thigh. “I meant what I said. I’ll fight for you to conquer the Hells. If you’ll have me.”

At the moment Raphael felt he wanted to have her indeed, in several ways, few of them figurative and most of them extremely literal. The hands brushing across his stomach turned his voice rougher than he’d have liked. “... I imagine,” he said, “that for all the power I’ll wield, one can never have too many assets.”

“Then you’ll have me, and my magic. And my sword, my bow, an axe I will buy for the occasion.” A hand went up to his chest while the other dipped below the water, closed around his cock. Raphael let out a shuddering breath, shut his eyes. A nail traced a vein and, again, he began to harden, the heat back in his loins. He didn’t try to fight it.

“And what do you expect in exchange?” he asked, eyes shut. She hummed, leaning her cheek against the back of his shoulder. 

“Archdevil Zariel will never give up Avernus without a fight.”

“She will not, but it won’t matter at all. Once I have the Crown, and my legions are ready, the Flying Fortress will fall.”

“Zariel will fight to the end.”

“I expect that she will. And I expect that is how she dies.”

“I want to be the one to deal the killing blow.”

Whatever Raphael had expected her to say, that was not it. He blinked, taken aback, and forgot even the hand stroking his cock. He turned to look at Tav over his shoulder, and she met his gaze. “This is what I want in exchange,” she spoke, and he felt the heat of it now - anger, and hatred. He was familiar with both, but he’d rarely met anyone before who hated as beautifully as this unassuming scrap of a tiefling. “Zariel dead by my hand, her head to put on a pike. Give me this, and I will follow you to Malsheem to be the first to kneel when you sit on Asmodeus’ throne.”

I give her this, Raphael thought, and she may agree to revise the contract sooner rather than later, too. 

Raphael swallowed, and turned to face her. She let go of him and took only half a step back, still looking at him in the eyes. He licked his lips. “... I could find out nothing about your past,” he admitted, quietly. He reached to cup her face, brush some soap off her cheek with a thumb. “It aggravated me greatly, I must say. But I think I can guess now. You’re from Elturel.”

“I was.”

“I see.” Left alone in the world, out for revenge. An old tale, but Raphael would never grow tired of the timeless tragedy of it. Mortals out for revenge were always among his favorite clients. Not always the easiest, necessarily, but the most interesting. The little mouse had yet to disappoint in that regard. “... Who was Misza?”

She stilled, and spoke again with a voice as cold as the glaciers of Cania. “You said you could find out nothing--”

“I did not. You called that name, when you woke up.”

“Ah.” The coldness faded, and she drew in a long breath, turning her gaze away. “... A gentle soul. I don’t think she lasted long in Avernus.”

“Gentle souls seldom do,” Raphael conceded, and nodded. “Very well. Lead the charge for me, and Zariel’s head will be yours.”

He’d seen her smile before, but the smile she gave now was different. It was not for him, not really, and of that he could only be glad: it was a smile that would not be out of place on a pit fiend, rather than on a simple tiefling. If that was the last thing Zariel would see before she died, Raphael could almost find it in himself to feel pity for her. 

Then the little mouse grasped his head, pulled it down, and kissed him fiercely enough to make him forget an archdevil Zariel even existed. She pressed close, flush against him, and he hissed when his erection brushed against her hip. “I hope you’re aware,” he breathed against her lips, “that this was never necessary for me to agree.”

He felt her smile. “Ah,” she said, arms tight around his neck, “but I do want it.”

Well, far it be from him to disappoint his most interesting client yet. And while Haarep described him as disappointing more often than not - a gross exaggeration, no doubt - there was one skill he’d learned well enough. The Archduchess Raphael made sure he learned, and he’d been a good pupil if he said so himself. 

Fittingly for the moniker he’d bestowed upon her, the little mouse was indeed small, and light; easy to hoist up to sit by the side of the pool, legs dangling in the water while he knelt between them. She looked down, licking her lips, and ran a hand through his wet hair. 

“Could you change?” she asked, her voice rough. “I like your other face, too.”

A chuckle. “You won’t get to look at it all that much,” he said, but it was a request he could satisfy and so he did. Had she been anything but a tiefling, the flames which came with his transformation would have burned the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. He stretched his wings a moment, splashing water, and smiled when he felt her hands grasping his horns. 

Haarlep did that often, too. They were, after all, excellent for leverage… and a strong grip on his horns, holding his head in place, never failed to send a jolt of arousal down his spine, straight to his cock. It wouldn’t help him last, but that wasn’t important now. All he needed was his tongue, and that had always served him well in any endeavor. 

Raphael did not look up again. He placed a hand on each of the little mouse’s thighs and spread them open, leaning forward to press his mouth against her folds. He inhaled deeply, the scent of her filling his nostrils, and ran his tongue across her in a long, hot swipe. He felt her shudder, and heard her moan; her legs hooked over his shoulders, trembling, giving him more access while she held onto his horns for dear life. 

With Haarlep in the form of the Archduchess, he never got to set the pace. With her, there was no respite, no comfort to be had. She’d straddle his face and not budge until she’d had her fill, grinding against his mouth, yanking his horns and pulling at his hair, ordering him to prove he wasn’t all that worthless after all, to use that mouth of his for something worthwhile least she cut off his useless tongue and show the world that it wasn’t made of silver after all. 

At that point he would already be-- pathetic-- bruised and battered, having been made to crawl and beg to be used, shame a tangible weight in his stomach only matched by his need for more. Learning to give the Archduchess the pleasure she demanded had been a long process, each lesson a welt or a cut or worse, ending quite literally in blood and tears… but he had learned. 

And a lesson learned, he knew, is a lesson earned.

His little mouse was so wet, it took several swipes of his tongue to get any real friction against her. When he did, her hips buckled violently and she almost wrenched his head away, only to immediately pull him against her again. But it was nothing compared to the way the Archduchess would jerk his head around, sometimes violently enough to fracture his neck if she deemed his performance lacking, so he barely missed a beat. He placed a kiss on her mound, grazed at sensitive skin with his teeth, and buried his face in her folds again.

“Gods,” she groaned. “Please please please don’t stop.”

For a moment Raphael did pause, smiling against her, half his face already wet with her juices. She sounded almost delirious with pleasure, and for a moment he regretted sending Haarlep away; he should have had them stay  and watch. He should have made them listen to this, to remember next time they tried to call him a disappointing lover again.

No matter. They can watch us next time, in the House of Hope. Only watch. I won’t let them touch her, or me. Won’t even let them touch themself. Will serve them right.

The thought made him shiver - Haarlep watching, the little mouse in his boudoir, the mental image of them both fucking him on Asmodeus’ throne, his throne; let all of Nessus see, let all of Baator see - and he almost spent himself right there and then. 

But he held back, and forced himself to ignore his aching cock to burrow his face against her cunt again, licking and kissing and sucking and letting himself forget everything else outside this, the scent and taste and touch, the voice crying out in pleasure under his ministrations, the grip on his horns, the heels digging against his back. Beneath his palms, her thighs quivered and tensed. Something changed about her shudders, something in the rhythm of them telling him she was close. She canted her hips against his mouth, leveraging on his horns, and he pushed his tongue in, all of it. He was rewarded with a near cry.

“Raphael,” she managed, the name nearly breaking up on her lips, and the next groan to ring out was his own. He’d heard his name many times over centuries - spoken with deference or loathing, in despair or with mockery, in anger and fear - but never, even with an incubus in his bed, had he heard it quite like that. Not with that want. Not with that need.

Was that why Haarlep wanted him to say their name, when in the throes of pleasure? Was this how they felt? Hells, it went to his head like gughalaki and he couldn’t get enough of it. Another moan above him, and Raphael stopped thinking. He closed his lips on her clit and sucked, all finesse gone, wanting nothing more than hearing, feeling her come undone. 

He got what he wanted. One of her hands let go of his horns, and the next moment there was a barely muffled cry. Her hips buckled one more time against his mouth and then she held still, shuddering, heels digging deeper into his back as though she feared he might pull away. 

Raphael didn’t think all the might of every devil in Baator could make him pull back an inch. He kept licking and sucking her folds while she rode it out and finally went limp with a near sob. She let go of his horns entirely and might have fallen back on the floor, had Raphael not reached out to catch her. He stood, still in the pool, gaze locked on the panting form in his grasp. He licked his lips.

There should be a portrait of her like this, he thought, to show Haarlep whenever they complained about his skill again. And also for his viewing pleasure, he supposed, but mostly for that. “Little mouse?” Raphael called out, his voice still rough, and she drew in a long breath before opening her eyes. Her gaze was still dazed with pleasure, and she spoke with a voice like sandpaper.

“How do I know,” she managed, “that Raphael hasn’t left and you’re not the incubus after all?”

Raphael let out a scoff that may pass as a somewhat breathless attempt at a laugh. “Am I to take it as a compliment?”

“You can bet your ass.”

“I only deal in souls, and you truly should work on your flattery. Still, consider the compliment graciously accepted.”

A few more panting breaths, and she sat up before glancing down. Raphael was still standing between her thighs and, he realized after a moment, still hard. It wasn’t all that rare for mortal to show a somewhat disconcerting interest in what a devil’s cock looked like. In a rare moment of talkativeness on the subject, Korrilla had admitted that since their arrival at Baldur’s Gate she’d had several queries about it from people who had a rather interesting - if incorrect - idea of what their strictly professional relationship entailed.

Whether or not the little mouse shared the curiosity, she now seemed to be considering the size of it, the girth, the ridges. She licked  her lips, and reached up to grasp his shoulders to pull him close. Her heart beat wildly against his chest.

“You’re not done,” she murmured against his throat, and leaned back on her elbows, legs hooking around his thighs. Her skin was flushed, and her eyes seemed to burn. “Come inside.”

Raphael seldom needed to be asked such things twice, and this was no exception; if anything, it was a small wonder he didn’t spend himself against her thigh on her words alone. He gripped her back and thrust forward blindly, in a near bestial lust that belied his every attempt to be civil up to that point. But she was so wet and open to him, he slid in like she was meant to take him; the shuddering gasp against his skin almost undid him.

He did not, as expected, last long. A few graceless, desperate thrusts and he came with a shuddering groan, dropping on top of her, panting against her hair. He had the presence of mind to change his form back to the human one so he wouldn’t weigh too heavily on her, but that was all he could do for a few long minutes. Frankly, for a while it was all he wanted to do: remain still, nestled within her, feeling nothing but her heartbeat against his chest and her hands down his neck, down his back. 

When he finally let out a long breath and lifted his head, the hands went to cup his face. His little mouse looked at him through half-lidded eyes, a sated smile on her lips. “Ah, there it is,” she said, brushing a lock of hair off his face. “I see it now.”

“See what?”

“The fox,” she replied, and Raphael chuckled.

“You mean to tell me you didn’t see it before?”

“I was still half thinking you might be the cat, but that fits Haarlep best.”

“Haarlep?”

“Cats never do a damn thing they’re told, and you still want to keep them around.”

Another chuckle. “That sounds like an accurate description,” he conceded. The thought he’d had earlier, both Haarlep and her fucking him on the throne of Nessus for all of Baator to see, nothing on him but the Crown, pushed its way back into his mind. He could almost feel Haarlep’s cock in him, as real as the taste of her in his mouth. Breath caught in his throat a moment, and something deep within him trembled.

“... Raphael? Are you--”

A well-timed knock on the door ended the question before it was even out. Mamzell Amira’s voice rang out, much too chipper for that time in the morning. Or what Raphael assumed was the time in the morning; keeping track of the time had not been among his priorities.

“I’ve brought the special tea, piping hot! And some breakfast, of course. I’ll leave it outside!”

“Much obliged,” the little mouse called out, and Raphael took it as his cue to pull out of her. He allowed himself to dip underwater a few moments before he stood, rinsed his face again, and reached for a towel.

“Do rinse yourself. I’ll take the tray in.”

She chuckled, slipping in the water as he left the pool. “The archdevil supreme, offering to carry my tray?”

“The archdevil supreme was taught manners a lady ought to appreciate.”

“Alas, I’m just a rodent of small size.”

When she’d said the tea tasted vile, she probably was not exaggerating: it most certainly smelled vile, too, and he got some measure of admittedly childish entertainment out of watching her face as she forced it down. 

The breakfast of fresh pastries and oranges was much better received, but did not last long. Soon enough she was putting her armor back on, picking up the contract - both copies of it - and grabbing one last pastry. The one Raphael had been planning to eat next, to his annoyance. “I’ll have Astarion take a look at the contract first thing,” she said. “Unless he has something to object to, I’ll be back to sign it before noon.”

“He’ll find nothing to object to, as it meets all the requests you so convincingly outlined,” Raphael pointed out, settling for another orange. “But he’s welcome to waste time however he sees fit. Just remember you don’t have much of it, little mouse,” he added, and as though to agree with him, the ground shook. He looked over to see her press her lips together.

“... I’ll be back soon,” she finally said. And indeed, Indeed, she returned before noon. The contract was signed, the Orphic Hammer placed in her hands, and that should have been the last step for Raphael - the moment when he’d sit back to see if they could win after all, if his investment would pay off. 

He’d done all that he’d set out to do to make it so, he reasoned, watching her retreating back. Still… “Wait.”

She turned, already in the doorway, to see Raphael snap his fingers. Flames enveloped her and she gave a startled cry, but they died down just as fast. Once they did there she stood, clad in the Helldusk Armor. It would not hurt, he reasoned, to give her a little advantage. Prone as she and her companions were to surprise him, they were facing a fight the likes of which few mortals had ever seen.

“It’s my own armor, made by the forgemaster of Avemus,” Raphael explained as she looked down at it. “Superior to anything a mortal blacksmith may hope to achieve. It always fits its wearer, so you may borrow it for the upcoming battle. Return it along with the Crown once you’ve triumphed.”

The little mouse flexed a gloved hand for a moment, looking at the infernal metal, and nodded. “... Very well. Thank you.”

“You may keep your thanks. You know what the one thing I want from you is,” Raphael scoffed. “Now go, and give that Netherbrain a taste of the Hells.”

The little mouse laughed. “Very well. Just one more thing.”

“There is nothing more to discu--” Raphael began, only to trail off when she strode back in and grabbed his doublet to pull his head down. She planted her lips on his for a brief, forceful kiss. When she pulled back, she was grinning.

“For luck,” she said, and she was out of the door before Raphael’s mouth could formulate a reply, a spring in her step and the Orphic Hammer slung across her back. The door closed behind her, and Raphael found himself staring at it for a very long time.

***

“My word, I’d have never thought I’d live to see the day you’d turn into a philanthropist. Who’d have known you’d find you have  a kind soul after all, master?”

That last word, purposely thrown in after a pause like the afterthought it was, somehow annoyed Raphael more than any of the other nonsense Haarlep kept spouting. “Keep this up, and you’ll find soon enough how kind I am,” he bit without teeth, and drank another mouthful from the goblet of blood red wine he’d been glaring at for the past several minutes.

Lounging on the bed, a half-eaten apple in hand, Haarlep sighed. “And you’re modest, too!”

“Be quiet, incubus.”

“You’re still crownless, and yet you helped fix the tiefling’s infernal machine so she can live in the Material Plane, just as you promised! Giving something for nothing. How is that not kind?”

Raphael scoffed. “That the Crown of Karsus would come apart and be in need of reforging was not an outcome I’d planned for, and Zariel’s old guard dog was drawing her last. Had I let her burn herself out without intervening, I would have been in breach of the contract. I don’t expect you to understand such things. The crown will be mine. I have yet to take the Netherese Orb out of the wizard’s chest--”

“Couldn’t he do it himself, by keeping the Crown once he’s done reforging it? Or surely, Mystra could?”

Raphael scowled. “He’d doom the little mouse’s soul by refusing to give it back, and he knows it. Ambitious he may be, but he has the same fatal flaw as most other mortals - sentimentality. Gale of Waterdeep will not--”

“Actually, it’s Professor Dekarios now. Ready for orb removal at your earliest convenience.”

The little mouse’s voice rang out suddenly from the doorway, causing Raphael to turn with a start and Haarlep’s grin to become, if possible, even wider. “Ah, here’s our favorite little mouse!” the incubus crooned. Their tail whipped the air as they stood and approached her. “We were just talking about you. And your friends. And the Crown, of course.”

“Oh, this crown?”

Any and all questions Raphael may have had - how did you get here, when did you get here, how dare you come here - died in his throat when she held up the reforged Crown of Karsus. No longer massive as it had been on top of the Netherbrain, it still looked as foreboding. The three netherstones set amidst spikes of black metal glinted and Raphael could already feel it, the hum of power within each, waiting to be unleashed by someone worthy of wielding them.

Someone like him.

“Give it here,” he said, impatience winning out on civility. He stepped closer, mouth dry, wishing he’d changed into his devilish form so that he could truly tower over her as he should, as he deserved to tower over everyone. The little mouse met his gaze, and smiled. 

“And then what, you’ll put it on your own head? That’s not how crownings usually go.”

“I am not in the mood for games--”

“I went through an awful lot to get this crown. It seems only fitting I get to place it on your head myself,” she cut him off, and gestured to the floor with a sharp nod. “Kneel.”

It was spoken like an order, as she held the key to his near-unimaginable power, and by all rights it should have infuriated him beyond words. Instead, it made him stop in his tracks, something twisting in his stomach. He’d heard that order many, many times - in that boudoir, mostly, but sometimes outside of it too - and he’d always obeyed it in the end.

On the floor, pet. Kneel. 

“Oh, come now, little brat,” Haarlep purred, coming to stand next to her. Raphael’s eyes moved from them to the little mouse and back, his mouth still dry, unable to formulate words. “You always kneel so prettily for me. And you’ll do it again many, many times. Even with a crown on your head and the Nine Hells at your feet, you’ll always yearn to kneel.” A smile, sweet as rotten honey. “But not to worry, sweetling. We’ll always help you up, when we’re done with you.”

“The only throne you need,” Haarlep had said, pushing him down on their cock. “Is it not your proper place? The only thing you wish to be seated on?”

Raphael opened his mouth to speak, but he could utter no sound. His tongue was heavy, his voice lost. The little mouse was not speaking: she only held the crown, his crown, and kept that hungry look of hers fixed on him. Slowly, beyond thought, his head wrapped in silence, Raphael felt his knees bend. Her lips curled in a smile and she stepped forward, holding up the crown. So many years, decades, centuries of yearning, and there it was at last. Raphael smiled, and closed his eyes an instant before the Crown of Karsus was lowered on his head.

Down came the crown, he thought. And that, love, was that.

The metal felt warm against his forehead, thrumming, alive. Raphael drew in a sharp breath. It felt like a stroke of lighting, a surge of power humming and crackling into every fiber of his being, in his very blood and bone and sinew, in every nerve ending. Raw power, limitless potential kept inert too long, now aching to be used, unleashed. It would not be unleashed yet, though, not until he willed it; the Crown’s power strained against him, and for a brief moment flames flared up, bright, blinding even through his closed eyelids.

But it was only a moment’s lapse, and the flames died down. Raphael had power enough of his own to hold the Crown in check until it was time to use it, to bend all the Hells to his will and step on his father’s throat on his way to Asmodeus.

Soon. Very, very soon, but not just yet. Not until the entirety of his plan was ready to be set in motion; he hadn’t spent centuries in wait to rush it now. Another half a year at most and he’d strike out at Avernus first, with his little mouse leading the charge. She’d have her revenge, and he the first layer of the Hells. It would be perfect, and glorious, and just the beginning. 

Let all of the Hells know what I need, then. Let them all see. Who would dare mock me for it?

Raphael smiled, savoring the warm weight of the crown on his head, the power buzzing in his nerves and veins and bones, and opened his eyes. He did not stand: he only looked up to meet their gazes, to see the amused glint in Haarlep’s eyes and the almost predatory one in Tav’s. He licked his lips and lifted his hands, palms up. 

It was a plea, and it was an order.

Take me. Break me. Worship me. Make me whole.

He did not speak those words, but he may as well have. A moment later his little mouse had claimed his mouth with her own, a hand tangling in his hair; Haarlep’s own mouth was on the back of his neck, teeth grazing skin, their hands reaching around him to tear open his doublet. As he parted his lips and leaned into the touch Raphael had one last, clear thought. 

They dined on him both, the cat and the mouse.

*** [Back to Act I]

[Back to Act II]

[ladykailitha]

Star Child 16

And it’s done. Holy freaking shit, guys. I can’t believe it. It’s done. Thank you so much to everyone who commented, reblogged and liked this story. I’m so happy for the response it’s gotten and I will personally miss this little story.

Steve gets his happily ever after

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

***

Steve and Luke were in the studio within days of their meeting and it took everything in Steve’s power not to giggle uncontrollably every time they agreed on something.

Soon they managed to hash out a really great song that Steve would feature on but it would be The Struts playing. Hell, even though it would be a non-album single Steve was still over the moon.

Suddenly Steve was in a room with all of the members of the band and he had to squeal into a pillow after they left. Because holy shit, this was his life now.

He was also grateful the distraction it supplied. He missed Eddie. Like a gaping wound, but this allowed him to concentrate on something other then the overwhelming loneliness he felt.

It took them three weeks to get the song recorded and they talked about when it should be released. Steve of course wanted to release it now, but cooler heads prevailed and it would be released in a couple of months toward the end of summer.

It would give the buzz around Steve’s coming out time to die down and give Steve more time to record his own songs and release one of the solo songs first. So that fans got a taste of Steve’s style without someone else.

It made sense. But Steve was still a little bummed that it wouldn’t come out for a while.

The final night of recording Steve went out with The Struts and had a good time. With invitations for Steve to hang out with them in London if he was ever in town.

*

Steve was practically vibrating out of his skin.

“Can you please breathe?” Robin asked as she applied eyeliner to her eyes. “What I’m doing over here is dangerous and I swear you’re going to start bouncing around the room.”

Steve ran his fingers through his hair again and sat down hard on the bed. He flopped backwards, arms out spread. “I get to see Eddie for the first time in five weeks and time is deliberately standing still.”

She tsked at him and finished her makeup. She went over to the bed and kicked his foot.

He sat up and looked her up and down. She was wearing a blue button up with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows with a plaid vest and matching tie. She wore baggy slacks over sexy heels and her hair and makeup were artfully messy.

Steve raised an eyebrow. “Looking good, Robs. Chrissy is going to faint.”

Robin giggled. “I hope not, I don’t think I would be able to catch her in these heels.”

Steve cocked his head and then nodded. “Fair enough.”

She reached over and played with a strand of his hair. “I still can’t believe Eddie gave you the go ahead to chop off it all off.”

He laughed. “I didn’t chop it all off. I just shaved the sides. It’s just as long as it’s always been on top. Add some fun blond highlights, and I think it looks great.”

Robin smiled. “And it does, honest. I just would have thought that Eddie would have put up more of a fight over it, considering how long his hair is.”

“Now that is a no go,” Steve said firmly. “He’s not allowed to have it shorter than his shoulders. He pulled his hair back once so that he could write with it wet and he looked like a completely different person, Robs. It was freaky.”

Robin laughed. “Whereas you look hot regardless of length?”

“Exactly!” he said with a big grin. “Now help me decide what to wear. I don’t want to go full metal, my fans might murder me.”

Robin winced. As referenced by the social media meltdown when he showed up in videos from the Salt Lake City concert. There was so much hate about him selling out (which, you know weird flex considering it’s usually selling out was in the opposite direction), and how he was clearly trying to get into Eddie’s pants. It was brutal.

In fact the Corroded Coffin fans seemed to be more welcoming and friendly. Telling him how awesome it was that he came out and that he could be himself. But then as Steve was slowly learning, metal fans tended to only looked mean.

So he decided to combine his former look with his boyfriend’s metal style. He wore a black t-shirt with the sleeves cut off with chunky bracelets on his wrists. But instead of tight black jeans and combat boots, Steve wore baggy white trousers and black sneakers. Combined with his new hair style and Eddie’s lucky guitar pick hanging from his neck, he felt confident in his look for the first time since he started performing.

Robin eyed him critically, circling him, like a shark scenting blood in the water.

“Good job!” she said with a thumbs up.

Steve laughed. “Did I pass the Robin test?”

“It looks good,” she said. “And if they give you hell, point them my direction.”

Steve nodded. He bounced up and down on his toes. Syking himself up. He waved his arms and wrists, trying to loosen up tense muscles. He began his breathing exercises and then his vocal warm ups.

“You ready for this?” Robin asked.

Steve nodded. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Go get him, tiger!”

*

Eddie loved performing in front of massive crowds. He couldn’t get enough it. He loved the energy and high he got from the screaming mases. And there was only one thing he loved more than the fans, more than his own band even.

Steve Harrington.

“It’s our last concert and you know we like to go out big,” Eddie said into the microphone. “When we started this tour, we thought it was going to be like any other. Play to sellout crowds, whether that was bars or stadiums. Have fun with my best friends doing what we love.”

The crowd roared, cheering and stomping their feet.

“But as awesome as the highs were,” Eddie continued. “I feel we have to acknowledge the lows. That club with the horrible management and our getaway to the park so we could still play.”

The crowd booed.

“They sucked!” Gareth growled into his microphone.

The crowd cheered back.

“The rain in Seattle.”

The crowd stomped their feet.

“What’s a little soaking between friends, anyway?” Jeff asked.

The crowd roared.

“The fiasco in Austin and beyond!” Eddie said.

The crowd got angry as chant was taken up, “Fuck Creel!”

“That’s right!” Brian screamed. “Fuck Creel!”

“But we made it through,” Eddie finished, “because we have the best fans in the world!”

If the crowd had roared before, it was nothing to deafening thunder that came reply.

“So as thank you, we’ve got a little treat for you all,” Eddie said over the howl of the crowd. “Steve Harrington!”

Who from what Eddie could see was waiting in the wings, liking like sex itself.

The crowd went absolutely feral. There were screams and whistles as Eddie smiled.

“We’re going to do a little song that brought me the best six weeks of my life,” Eddie explained.

Steve came out and waved. “Hello, LA!”

“Hello, Stevie!” the crowd shouted back.

“Come on,” Steve said with a giggle. “You can do better than that!”

“Hello, Stevie!” they roared back.

“You guys are the best!” Steve said.

The music started and the crowd howled.

Then Steve growled out the first line and it was absolute pandemonium.

But instead of being on the opposite ends of the stage like they were in Indy, they started in the middle and were practically all over each other. And then when it was time for the guitar solo, Eddie handed his guitar over to Steve and he let it rip. Just shredded away.

It got so quiet that the only sound was Steve playing like he was born to rock.

So when the solo ended and Steve handed the guitar back to Eddie, Eddie growled. “Steve Harrington, everyone!”

They finished out the rest of the song and then kissed.

“Hi, beautiful,” Eddie said once they had broken off the kiss.

“Hey-ya, Eds,” Steve murmured back with a smile on his face.

“Tell all the wonderful people about what’s been going on with you,” Eddie prompted.

Steve blushed. “After winning a large settlement from my record label I have set up a charity for young LGBTQ+ artists that if they find themselves in a situation like I was, they have someone to turn to. It will have lawyers, counselors, and resources for getting out of abusive homes with living arrangements and a small stipend to help them pay bills as they get back on their feet.”

The crowd cheered.

“There won’t be an exclusion of genres either,” Steve continued. “There is as much queerphobia in country and rap as there is in pop and rock. We want to be able to reach as many people as we can. And while it is mainly for youths, no one of any age will be turned away.”  

Again the crowd cheered.

“I’ve also been in the studio writing and recording my new album,” Steve went on.

More cheering.

“And I’ve got a couple of surprises coming for you all,” he said. “Not the least of which is collaboration with these boys.”

The crowd ate it up, stomping and screaming.

“I said in Indy that my greatest dream was to perform with Corroded Coffin,” he continued. “And while crossing that off my bucket list was no small feat, the thought of making music with them, not just Eddie, who I absolutely am in love with, just blows my mind. But these are some of the best in the business and making friends with them and being able to write and perform as song with them? Beyond my wildest imagination.”

“Flattery absolutely works on us, man,” Jeff said in his microphone.

Steve blushed. “Oh, you guys have no idea. That was me dialing back on my enthusiasm. I’ve been your biggest fan for years.”

“Oh no,” Brian said into Jeff’s mic, “we know. And we’re happy to have gotten to know the real you over the last couple of months.”

“Really digging the new look, Stevie,” Jeff agreed.

The crowd whistled their agreement.

Steve grinned.

It had been one hell of a journey. But he’d made it. He was in love with the first boy he ever kissed. He was making the music he loved for the first time in his life. He was out as bisexual. His label and parents were facing criminal charges. And his best friend was going on a date with the girl of her dreams.

If someone had come up to Steve two months ago and told him he would be here with Eddie in front of an adoring crowd, his life changed for the better? He would have laughed himself sick. Good things didn’t happen to Steve Harrington. Not like that.

But it had. And things were only going to get better. He was so happy, he did the only thing he could think of.

He kissed Eddie senseless.

“So did I leave up to the hype, sunshine?” he asked, away from the mic.

Eddie smiled. “You blew my expectations out of the water, sweetheart.”

***

Here’s the meta I wrote for it when I started writing the story and the extra scene that showed what happened that night at Steve’s ten years before the story started.

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