#and yes the cake thing was -- getting old when I first played this

[mickyschumacher]

𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐂𝐀𝐊𝐄  .ೃ࿐

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: you and lando have a pretty healthy relationship; communication is a breeze between the two of you. and while that seems good, it doesn't help lando is horny 24/7. even the beach isn't safe from him.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minors dni), established relationship, some fluff, blowjob, slight handjob, breastplay, poor humour LMAO aka old creepy mens' dicks, no time concept lol, basically lando time!

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: bf!lando norris x fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3k+

𝐀/𝐍: now playing: ice cream cake – red velvet! OKAY YES IK I HAVE REQUESTS BUT I HAD WRITER'S BLOCK TILL THIS OKAY? is it not obvious by the word count? 😭 alexa, play 'easy on me' by adele :( also new banners after i messed around one day! ♡︎ // proof-read-ish!

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⋆  •°.  ｡  .°•  ⋆

You had met Lando two years ago purely on accident. You were at a coffee shop in Brighton, he was visiting a friend there. You ordered a hot chocolate and he had ordered a long black. Somehow the both of you had swapped cups and were wincing at how sweet or bitter the drink was.

Lando had turned his cup around to see who the cup belonged to. Upon seeing your name, unlike a normal person who would ask the barista for another cup or a refund, he had shouted your name across the room.

Lucky for you, you were the only other customer there since it was a slow day. Nevertheless, you looked up in shock. Who yelled out your name? Why? How did they know your name?

You actually purposely avoided eye-contact with his table just in case he was some weird guy. But Lando got your attention after telling you from across that room that you had some sweet taste in drinks.

You raised a brow. Was this some sort of new catcall you didn't know about? But then you had caught the barista's handwriting on 'your' cup. Lando, Long Black.

You scrunched your nose at the cup and looked at him. "You're quite bitter."

It was at that point when Lando had got a clear shot of your face and found his heart racing faster than normal. You were pretty, no gorgeous, no beautiful, no... surreal. Your face was contorted into a grimaced expression at his order which he found amusing. You looked like, what he still claims to this day, part of the shop's couch. The couch was brown and you were wearing a brown sweater.

Honestly, Lando couldn't find the whole situation anymore endearing. So with whatever confidence he had leftover, he walked up to your table and smoothly asked, "Can I get you a sweeter one with my number?"

Now this was when you first had probably got a look of Lando. He had a certain... boyish charm, if you will. The wide grin, sparkling blue eyes, face dotted with the odd freckle or beauty mark. To say he was attractive was an understatement. He looked like one of the main characters in the rom-coms you would binge when you needed a pick me-up.

You said yes. Obviously.

And here you were, two years later. At the beach with Lando, Charles, Carlos, Daniel, and their partners. You were all caught up with F1, always available for Lando. Your perspective of him had changed quite a lot since you had met him. In a good way, of course.

You initially saw him how a lot most of his fans and the media see him. A comedian by day and a moodmaker by night. Always smiling and cheery. Positive and optimistic. But the reality was that Lando struggled with the mental and physical aspects of F1. He didn't always have the confidence and he was stressed and depressed.

But as Lando always said in his interviews, he had found you.

'The best thing that had ever happened to him,' according to Lando himself.

Anyone could see that the two of you loved each other with your entire beings. Neither of you left any stone unturned in your relationship. Most people were jealous of your relationship. The drivers, the media, and especially the fans.

And you wouldn't have it any other way.

━━━━━━━━━━━

One thing about Lando that you had learned quite soon after your first time together was that Lando was insatiable. He was sex-driven, horny, full of lust, aroused... all the words in the dictionary for a man like this... 24/7.

One day, you asked him why. Lando only responded with pulling you closer to him, leaving a trail of kisses from your jaw and down to your neck, and saying "You."

You wouldn't say anything did it for him. No in fact, it was specific things that he couldn't take his mind off once he thought about it.

Take right now for example.

Carlos had decided to treat everyone to ice creams, ice lollies, and juice on your trip to the beach in Playa de Bolonia. Innocently and naively, you had chosen the pink ice lolly out the chilly bin. Lando had also not thought anything of it.

Rather Lando had being eyeing you with every spare glance as you were wearing his favourite bikini, the one he had bought you for Christmas as a prank gift in the nice British winter thinking it had been the funniest thing ever. Obviously, he thought you were going to were it but another thing you had learned was that Lando's humour quite often was unmatched and spontaneous.

The bikini itself was simple. An orange, of course, two-piece. The top was held up by two moderately thin straps and hugged your breasts quite nicely. The bikini bottom was as normal as it could get, clinging to your hips. On top of it, you wore a white thin-laced cotton coverup, loosely tied together.

You would say it was an average beach look. Lando would disagree. It was as if God himself had carved you and decided to put you on Earth as reparations for the bad in the world.

But back to the point.

As mentioned, Lando hadn't really thought of the ice lolly. He was too busy trying to get Daniel back with a water gun. Like you said, boyish. It wasn't until he had finally got him back and decided to go sit down with you and grab himself some ice cream.

But when Lando sat down and looked at you, his mind had suddenly turned into shambles. There you were. Under the shade, peaks of sun shining on your skin, holding that pink ice lolly to your mouth.

Lando wasn't quite sure what was worse. The faint pink colour similar to his cock or the way your tongue travelled down the length of it to collect the melting sugary liquid. Or how your lips pressed up on the tip of the ice and pressed down to take an inch more of it into your mouth as if it was his own cock.

To make matters even worse for him, you had failed to capture some of the melting droplets. Lando keenly watched as they fell to your bare part of your chest and even had landed right where he knew your nipple was. His eyes widened ever so slightly and his breath paced when you frowned at the event and used your finger to wipe the sweet liquid off your skin and into your mouth. Some of it had gone too far down, probably pooling near your breasts like he imagined.

What sent him overboard? When you had spotted the stain on your bikini top over your nipple and attempted to rub it away, only making the stain worse and a small bump for your pebbled nipple.

Lando gulped nervously, pants incredibly tight. He closed his eyes and held his hands over his newly-formed hard on, wishing that his mind wasn't full of everything he had just seen. Your lips... your breasts... the way your eyes looked down at the popsicle... if only that was his cock....

"Lando? Dude, do you need to go to the bathroom?" Pierre's voice cut through the air.

Lando snapped his eyes opened and your eyes looked over to your boyfriend.

"W-What?" The British male queried with slight panic. He was not getting caught with a hard-on in front of his friends... there was no way in Earth...

Pierre raised a brow, gesturing to his pants. "You're ice cream is all melted. You need to take your eyes off Y/N at least sometimes, Lando, otherwise you'll never finish... your ice cream, that is," He teased.

You looked down at Lando's pants where his hands laid, covered in the white vanilla ice cream-turned liquid. You and everyone let out an amused laugh at Pierre's joke, shaking your head.

You stood up from the sandy grass you were sat on, dusting yourself off. You extended your hand to Lando, "Come on. I bought extra stuff in the car. Honestly, I thought you were going to lose your trunks by Daniel pantsing you in the water but I guess not."

A howl of laughter came from Charles and Carlos while Daniel cursed himself for not doing it.

Lando blinked, pulling the finger at his fellow drivers. He sighed, grabbing your hand and awkwardly standing up from the area, managing to cover up his bulge swiftly.

The two of you headed to the car as Lando briefly threw out the sticky wrapper and stick into a bin nearby. You opened the boot of the car, grabbing his trunks. "Jesus, could it get any hotter today?" You asked, closing the back door.

"It really couldn't," Lando mused, walking hand-in-hand with you, making you release a groan.

"Lando... now my hand's all sticky, you idiot," You complained, trying to pull apart from his hand.

Lando rolled his eyes, arriving to the empty males changing room. He was about to enter when he saw you stand outside and not follow him. "What are you doing? Come in."

You narrowed your eyes. "It's a male changing room. I'm not going in. What if there's some old man trying to change? I do not need to be scarred for life. My DMs is enough, thanks."

"First of all, there's no one here," Lando stated before shouting a loud 'Hello' into the room, making you redden with embarassment. "See? Secondly, I'm sorry, let me get this straight, your DMs are full of old men's dicks?" Lando looked at you incredulously.

You grinned, shrugging. "It's called being a woman, Lando. You wouldn't get it."

Lando rolled his eyes once again, grabbing you by the arm and dragging you into the changing room.

The room was the opposite of most changing rooms. It was tiled well, clean and fresh as opposed to musty, damp and with paint-chipped walls. There were also no leaky taps or showers or even any graffiti. It was slightly comforting to know that at least people respected some of their public rooms, even in Madrid.

"Wait, also, what if I get old? You don't want to see my shrivelled dick? It should turn you on!" Lando asked with a dramatic gasp.

You looked at your boyfriend through the mirror with a dumfounded expression. Turning, you threw his trunks at his face. "Go change," You laughed, shaking your head.

Lando grinned underneath the trunks as you turned the tap on to wash your sugar-coated hands.

Lando had removed his trunks, left naked with his hard, reddened cock slapping against his stomach, and was about to put on the new ones when a thought passed his mind.

You paused your hand-washing and froze when you felt Lando's arms wrap around your stomach, pulling you close to his bare body. "Lando," You yelped, feeling a shiver cross your body, "What are you doing?"

Lando peered down at you through his thick eyelashes. He tucked his chin into your shoulder, placing a brief kiss. "What?" He asked innocently, "I'm just washing my hands. I can't get the new ones dirty either."

You watched through the mirror as he pressed his body into you, washing his hands under the tap, ridding the tackiness on his hands.

You sucked in a sharp breath, feeling his cock push into your backside. It was bare, you realised, as the heat spread into you. Your eyes flickered to Lando through the mirror, squinting at him. He wasn't...

Lando caught your eyes staring hard at him. "Don't look at me like that," He whispered into your ear, a loose grin hanging on his face. His wet fingers travelled to the poorly tied lace coverup you wore, undoing the knot with ease. The coverup fell against your shoulders, revealing your bikini and body in all it's glory.

"You have to clean up as well," Lando shrugged, eyes fixated on you through the mirror. "You made a mess," He murmured, wetting his fingers with the water once more before placing it against your chest.

You pressed your lips tightly, feeling his fingers drive down your skin and underneath your bikini top. Lando's fingers brushed your hardened nipples, making you shudder under his touch. His fingers trailed across your breasts, wiping away any of that sticky residue that you had missed. Bringing his fingers to his mouth and taking a wide lick of them, Lando grinned at you. "You know... I can't stop picturing you sucking my dick like that ice lolly. Never thought I would be jealous of an ice lolly."

You couldn't help but smile in amusement. You pulled away from his hold and turned to face your boyfriend. "Yeah?" You hummed, hands trailing down his chest. Lando had been working out a lot more these days for F1; compared to before his abs had become more prominent and toned. You loved Lando no matter what he looked like, but there was something about the way his skin flushed when you touched his torso.

Lando's breath hitched as your hand had ever so naturally found it's way to his cock. His cock, if you could say it, was pretty. It was average in length and with a nice, filling girth, stretching all of your holes wide.

Your fingers brushed across the tip of his head, just grazing his slit. You could feel Lando jolt in your hands as he muttered, “Fuck.”

You opened your mouth, letting a drop of saliva full into his cock. Hand wrapped around it, you gently rubbed natural lube up and down his shaft. Lando’s jaw clenched at the warm liquid nestling around his cock, letting a sharp exhale through gritted teeth.

Slowly you sunk down to your knees. The tiled floor was cold against your burning skin but it didn’t matter: you were too focused on what was right in front of you; cockdrunk. Your tongue darted out to swipe your lips before pressing a light kiss to his cock. Lando could feel himself twitch, aching to be in your mouth.

He watched as your lips opened like they did on that ice lolly. Going down in his cock, your lips stretched and your mouth hollowed.

Lando groaned at the warmth surrounding his cock. He bit down on his lip, watching his cock disappear into your mouth. Your eyes were on him as you sucked him, teeth barely grazing his skin.

"Fuck, you look so pretty like this, Y/N," Lando sighed out, "On your knees for me. I can't imagine the mess you made between those legs of yours, hmm?"

You moaned in response, sending a vibration around his cock. You briefly pulled away from him, making Lando grunt in slight annoyance at the loss. "These lips, my pussy.... all yours," You winked at him before returning to his cock.

Lando tensed at your words, letting a grin overtake him. "Yeah? Let's see about that throat, baby?" His hands reached your half dry and half damp, salty hair. Wrapping those long tresses around his hand and wrist, he tightened his grip. He could feel you open up your throat as he guided his cock down the tighter tunnel.

Lando's rasping groan made you clench your thighs, holding a barrier to the wetness leaking at of you. You could feel him begin to move his hips, beginning to push his cock into your throat.

Fighting the urge to gag around his cock, you tried hard to relax your cheeks and mouth, allowing every inch of him to be seated in your throat.

He flickered his eyes to you. Watching you take him in his mouth was a pleasure of its own. Your big eyes were glassy with tears of arousal and a haze of lust, sweat and saliva lingered at every edge of your skin, and your lips were puffy and red. Trailing his eyes further down, he spotted your bare neck in dire need of kisses, but that wasn't the most striking thing about it. It was the slight bulge of his cock in your throat making it's presence known.

Jesus...

Lando instinctively closed his eyes upon feeling your hands touch his balls. You rubbed them gently, feeling your head bob at an increased rate to match the sudden pace of Lando's cock in your throat.

"Fuck, fuck... I..." Lando moaned. "I'm gonna cum!" Lando hissed out, feeling a familiar bubbling feeling overcome. His thrusts become harder and faster, your nose flushed with his skin.

His moans became irregular and higher, chasing his release. "Fuck...." A guttural groan fell from his lips. Hot, salty white strips of his cum coated the inside of your mouth, swirling around after each drop was sucked from your lips. Almost painfully, Lando removed himself from your mouth. His chest rose up and down as he breathed out heavily.

An admiring smile came from Lando while he pulled you up to meet his face. He pushed your sweaty hair back. "That mouth of yours is evil," He narrowed his eyes playfully.

"You should shut me up then," You quipped back, sticking out your tongue that still had his cum on it.

Lando's eyes sparkled with amusement before he brought his lips to yours, darting his tongue into your mouth. The urgency in the action was understated. God, he could taste himself in you. His hands encapsulated your waist, flushing your barely clothed body to close his naked one. Your own hands travelled everywhere across his chest as the two of you kissed each other.

The muffled moans from you made Lando want to hear them out loud. Slowly he moved from your lips to your jaw. "Let me hear you, baby," He breathed out, placing smaller kisses as he reached your neck.

You let out a small whimper, neck tilting so Lando could get more access. Lando grinned at the sight of your bare neck, leaving small little nibbles across your skin. His lips eventually became settled in an area between your ear and collarbone, beginning to suck at your warmth.

"Lando," You moaned, "No, the others will realise."

Your refutes were ill-attempted even for yourself. You were dazed at the suction of his lips. His nose buried into your neck while he created a fresh layer of purple against your sun-kissed skin.

Lando released himself from your neck, eyeing down his creation with a smirk. "There. If they couldn't tell from your hair, they'll definitely know now."

You narrowed your eyes, turning to the mirror only for your eyes to widen in shock. "Jesus fucking Christ, Lando," You peered at the big purple brown splotch on your skin. "As if the 20 minutes we've spent here wasn't enough," You whined.

Lando laughed softly, standing behind you with his arms around your waist and chin resting on your head. "Well... if you make it through the shame, I can't wait to properly fuck you when we get home. You must know how much I love the way you look when I’m inside you."

Your head fell against his chest with a pout. "Why not now?"

Lando grinned before pressing a kiss to your head "Like you said... it's been 20 minutes."

© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑

[fizziepopangel]

HuskerDust Headcanons (romantic)

Husk says “I love you” first. It’s not a big romantic thing, but to Angel Dust it means the world.

Angel and Husk were both quite affectionate with each other. The two can often be found cuddling in one of their bedrooms. Angel loves being held, but his favorite way for them to cuddle is actually having Husk lay on top of him since he finds the pressure grounding, and he’s found that scratching the cat demon’s back between his wings or scratching behind his ears while he’s tired and comfortable results in purring.

Angel steals Husk's hat every now and again.... Sometimes he steals it solely for the purpose of putting it on Fat Nuggets to take cute pictures of him in it.... While the pictures are adorable, this has resulted in the little pig occasionally taking it upon himself to steal the hell cat's hat, resulting in the man chasing the little creature around the hotel like a madman.

Husk becomes the father figure Fat Nuggets never had and Angel absolutely goes crazy for the relationship between his pet pig and boyfriend.

Although he doesn’t show it often, Husk does sometimes get overwhelmed, causing him to eventually break down in tears. During these episodes, Angel usually holds the grumpy drunk, rubbing his back and humming “Loser Baby” until he’s calmed down enough to talk, or until he’s fallen asleep.

Angel is a sucker for romance. He buys Husk flowers, makes big plans for their anniversary, makes long and mushy posts and posts cutesy pictures on his sinstagram, and goes all out for Husk’s birthday. Husk acts annoyed, but he secretly enjoys the little romantic gestures.

Despite not being the most romantic man, he does randomly grab Angel at random points while they’re together and begin dancing with the man, even humming or singing softly under his breath when Angel points out that there’s no music.

Charlie has so many candid photos of the couple being cute. She’s making a scrapbook for them for their anniversary

After Husk showed him the song, Angel plays “A Sunday Kind of Love" whenever their anniversary lands on a Sunday and makes Husk breakfast in bed as it plays. He calls it their song. 

When Angel can, he does drag shows at one of his favorite clubs in downtown Pride. Husk goes to every one of Angel’s drag shows to watch him perform and despite his usual gruff demeanor, he cheers the loudest when his boyfriend is on stage.

After long, rough shoots in Valentino's studio, Angel usually comes back to the hotel exhausted and sore so he sits at the bar, sipping water and listening to Husk grumble about work until he falls asleep at the bar. Husk usually ends up carrying him to bed despite constantly grumbling about being "too old for this shit".

In the event that they both wanted to get married, both of these men would try to make the perfect plan to propose to the other. 

In an attempt to be romantic, Husk would begrudgingly ask Alastor to help him make a nice Italian dinner and a cake to hide the ring in. He would be an anxious wreck through the whole dinner as Angel ate as he waited for dessert and the discovery of the ring within the cake.

Angel on the other hand would go the cheesier way of dressing Fat Nuggets up in a little tux and tying a ring around his neck with a bow and having him come up to Husk as the two had dessert with a sign that reads “Will you marry my daddy?”

In true romantic comedy fashion, Angel’s proposal pig would get to Husk right as Angel nearly choked on the ring Husk put into the cake. Of course, they would both say yes.

Despite not being the romantic in their relationship, Husk is a bit of a groom-zilla. It’s not really that he cares about flowers or color schemes or any of it, he’d be happy as long as he’s with the man he loves and their an open bar so he lets Angel handle it all for the most part…. But he does think Angel deserves the best and he’d be damned if he didn’t make sure that man’s day didn’t go absolutely perfectly.

Niffty makes Angel’s wedding dress, and although he will deny it, Husk does cry when he sees Angel in it.

Husk doesn't choose the first song they dance to, but he does request later in the night that the song Frank Sinatra’s “I Could Write a Book" be played so he can ask Angel to dance to that.

Husk recites his vows to Anthony, not Angel Dust.

[cult-of-husbandos]

karasuda ren [soft!yandere] - All I Want For Christmas Is A Cute Yandere!

synopsis: you're spending another Christmas alone. there's only one thing you want and there's only one person who can make it happen. but, shenanigans occur!

genre: a little crackish, fluff, holiday love

word count: 6.29k

warnings: binge drinking, kidnapping, a little claustrophobia

Ahh, Christmas Eve. The most festive and romantic time of year. The city has never looked so bright and beautiful than when it’s decorated with wreaths and tinsel on every pole and building and fairy lights illuminating a soft glow of the pillowy snowy streets of your city. Not to mention the sights and sounds that sing this otherwise boring, claustrophobic place into jolly merriment. The delicious smells of bakeries and restaurants serving cakes and pies and nauseatingly sugary Christmas cookies. Buskers singing Christmas songs to afford a decent meal. Last minute idiots scrounging the shelves in stores and causing scenes to get that one important present or Christmas is ruined. Families walking with their children with excitement on their faces about what Santa will bring them tonight. Happy couples walking hand in hand and sharing hot cocoa and sweet treats before they get home. Retail workers resisting the urge to shoot themselves when Mariah Carey’s winter album plays for 6667th time that day.

Yes, it seems that everyone was in a rush to get home to be with that special somebody tonight.

EXCEPT FOR YOU!

Day after day. Year after year. Holiday after fucking holiday!

Seriously! It should be against the fucking law to have to work on Christmas Eve. Especially, when the workplace is complete ass and your coworkers take turns using the singular brain cell that seems to float aimlessly around the office. When you were just a fresh newbie, you used to blame your singleness on your work. ‘I don’t have the time right now, I should try when I get used to the environment.’ That was your thought process. But, now you know that it was all complete horseshit! The real reason you can’t make time for anything, let alone a relationship, is because your boss and your coworkers are required by the laws of fate and destiny to cockblock you until you’re that old Karen calling the cops on your neighbors for having too bright lights in their yard. When you first got hired, you promised that you wouldn’t become like the old greedy ladies at your work that glared at the smallest hint of happiness and bitched about it on their ‘Moms Against…’ Facebook groups.

Yet, here you are. Hours before Christmas, shuffling home like a morally depleted penguin hating every single happy and smiling face you came across. Even the forced ones.

As you trudged through the dirt clodded snowy and slippery as hell sidewalk, you couldn’t help but unintentionally glare at every single couple you passed by. Happy smiles adorned their faces as they shared intimate kisses and huddled together for warmth. You tried not to gag or roll your eyes because it wasn’t really their fault. They were just enjoying the festivities and snow. You on the other hand are huddled into yourself trying not to bust your ass in the middle of a public street and quickly get home so you can rip off your shoes that were sopping wet and nearing frostbite from the slushy snow penetrating your shoes. 

To be honest, the last place you wanted to be at was your apartment. You sigh to yourself in disappointment knowing what’s waiting for you: Nothing. In particular, no one. As stated before, day after day, year after year, holiday after freaking holiday, all that awaits you is a cold, empty apartment with comfort items and furniture that you either bought off of Amazon or got off the streets. No one would be waiting for you except the inescapable loneliness that you felt every day. Your plans are the same as last year’s, and the year before that, and the year before that, and so on and so forth. You’ll get home, take a lukewarm shower because your plumbing is always busted around this time of year, drink a 1/5th of Holly Jolly Krinkles Peppermint Vodka, and pass out watching the Polar Express on Hulu. Then, wake up Christmas afternoon and try not to throw up the rest of the day. Your ancestors must be so proud staring down at you after generations of their own hardship.

Peeking up from your huddled form you spot your apartment complex up ahead. You sigh again feeling the need for a drink. As you hurriedly jogged up the stairs and rushed to your door, you slowed to a halt as you saw a bottle sitting on your doormat. Titling your head in confusion, you looked around for any clues on who could’ve left this on your door. Cautiously, you picked up the suspicious bottle and felt that it was heavy and filled with liquid. A white and red envelope fell onto the mat and you picked it up as well. The envelope had your name addressed to it, but nothing else. You looked back at the bottle and squinted into the dark to read the label on the front. In the dark you could only make out ‘Feeling Pine Mulled Wine.’ You groaned at the pun. On top of the cork you noticed a green ribbon tied along with a small folded note. Inside the card read, “For you, from Santa Claus~♡”.

“Santa Claus…?” you muttered to yourself. You scoff and think of this as nothing more than corporate shilling and shameless advertisement to get people to spend even more money on this capitalist holiday. Everyone in the building must’ve gotten a bottle and since you got home late you’re the only one left. Shivering harshly as a chilling breeze rushed through you, you quickly shot into your apartment. Like a defeated animal, you ripped off every single piece of wet clothing and left it near your front door for ‘hungover you’ to worry about. Placing the mulled wine on the kitchen counter to worry about later you jogged to the bathroom for your shower. Second to drinking yourself to sleep, you looked forward to your shower the most. Flipping your shower nozzle to the highest setting, you jumped in and hopped around as the blizzard water hit your skin. You shivered as you rubbed soap aggressively on your body waiting for the lukewarm water to set in. After a few minutes, the water didn’t change. You waited a few more minutes and the water was still cold?! All of the frustration and anger bottling up inside you finally popped.

“AAAARRGGHHHH!!!” You screamed with all your might. Your screams bounced around your echo-ey bathroom as your next-door neighbor banged on your wall. You banged the wall back even harder out of frustration. What kind of shitty development is this?! You are a good person! Why is it that whenever something good happens to you someone shits all over you?! Who did you kill in your past life to warrant this sharknado level shitstorm that is your adult life?

“God-fucking-DAMMITT! I hate this shitty building and its shitty pipes and its shitty… shitty shit shit!!” You stomped as you frustratingly shut off the shower. Again, you’re reminded of your paper thin walls as your next door neighbor banged on your wall even harder. Completely fed up with everything, you punched and kicked at your wall with all your might.

“Evan Christopher Daniels, you motherfucker! I swear to God, you bang on this wall one more FUCKING time! I’m calling the landlord and telling him all about your basement cock fighting ring and we BOTH know we aren’t talking about chickens!”

The banging immediately stopped. You huffed and leaned against the cold tile wall. You needed a drink more than ever, but you did feel a little better after yelling. Walking out of the bathroom in your towel, your attention is brought back to the wine bottle and envelope. Staring at the wine bottle and label again in a better light you didn’t see anything wrong with it. Nothing obvious at least. So, with a shrug and popped the cork.

“Better than that shitty minty vodka…” you muttered.

*****

“A-And then… that Chevy-back refrigerator built asshole had the nerve to put his dirty face next to mine and breathe his hot Frito-shit pie breath all over me! Can you believe that?!”

You were venting. You were venting and drunk. You were venting, drunk, and talking to the only thing that brought you solace in this cruel time of joyful merriment: the characters on screen from the movie you were watching.

Wow. How sad.

“‘This is no good, Y/N.’ ‘You should try harder, Y/N.’ ‘How ‘bout spending Christmas stuck to my bed sheets, Y/N.’ How about you get the fuck outta my face, fix your hairline and get veneers you shitty generic ugly bastard-looking McFuck!!”

You sprawled out on the floor, sloppy lamenting over your life and where you could have possibly gone wrong.

“Why is it that whenever I get hit on, it’s either from creeps on the subway or fat geriatrics with greasy foreheads that get off on power harassment?” you ask your screen.

“‘Cause that’s the way things happen on the Polar Express!’”

You clicked your tongue and grumbled, “I wish I was on the Polar Express…” you spared a glance to your empty apartment. “Better than being here alone…” You took another drink from your bottle and set it down beside you. “This is good… I’ll have to drink this shit all-year round.”

As you silently surveyed your surroundings as the movie continued in the background, your eyes were drawn to the unopened letter that came with your wine. With a grunt and a sigh, you reached over to pick up predicting that it’s mostly like a Christmas themed advertisement for the company. However, instead was a Christmas portrait card. You opened the card and read the beautiful cursive that was inside.

“Wish upon the brightest star in the sky and your deepest wish will come true.”

You read the words over and over again. ‘Wish upon a star?’ you thought incredulously. What good would that do? You looked on each side of the card but there wasn’t anything else, not even a signature. The handwriting on the Christmas card didn’t match the note on the cork either. You scoffed after a while and flicked the card back on the floor.

“Deepest wish will come true…” you grumbled softly. “That’s only something a child would believe in.”

“‘Seeing is believing, but, sometimes, the most real things in the world are the things we can't see.’”

Your attention was brought back to your movie and the words that stood out by the conductor. Wait… was the movie playing out of order?

“Seeing is believing, huh?” you muttered to yourself. You looked to your bedroom window. Snow gracefully falling from the night sky down to the bright city lights from under your window. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was just a plane, but there in the cloudy night you spotted a single light that penetrated the clouds. Again the words on the card rang through your mind like church bells, or maybe those were just the bells from the movie.

“Meh, fuck it.” You were already drunk and alone. Might as well do something embarrassing in the comfort of your own home than in a bar full of equally lonely people, right?

You crawled your way towards the window and sat on your knees. You already knew what your deepest wish was. You wished for it every holiday: your birthday, Valentine’s Day, hell, even Arbor Day. But, who should you even be praying to to make the wish come true? Santa Claus? God? Buddha? David Bowie? No, there’s only one person who could make a wish like this come true. Someone who you've never prayed to. Someone who could make your dream a reality.

“Oh, Supreme Lord Master Gege Akutami,” you called out. “I know I’ve never prayed to you before, but you’re a man that can make miracles happen. You’re the only one I know that can make my wish come true. The only thing that I want for Christmas is…” you took a deep breath.

“All I want is a super cute yandere boyfriend!”

You can’t be serious.

“I’ve seen your creations Oh Heavenly One and I know you can make that happen. The gorgeous men and women from your manga are only just as beautiful and holy as the animated versions! But not just an old yandere will do! I want a super cute one! The kind of yandere that feed, spoil, and give their unwavering love and affection to the MC! The kind of yandere that will only keep me to himself so I don’t have to work at my shitty job anymore.”

Oh you are dead serious, aren’t you?

“He has to have a cute smile, gorgeous eyes, and soft kissable lips! And he has to be taller than me, but not too tall! Just the right amount of height where I can give him headpats and forehead kisses and when he lays down on my lap only his feet go over the couch arms, not his legs! Also, I want him to have a nice build, not too skinny and lanky. I’ve seen the kind of men you’ve brought to light so I know you can make it work Oh Great One.”

Oh dear lord…

“And he has to know everything about me! Like super omega obsessed with me, but in a cute way that makes it hard to be mad at him. Oh, and extroverted as hell to counterout my introvertedness! Like the type of person who will go up to the fast food worker and tell them that I wanted no pickles on the burger! Y’know, and also…”

Okay, I’m gonna cut the rest of this drunken otaku rambling for the future therapy you’ll be court mandated to attend.

“Please, Lord Gege… if not you then… I don’t know what else I’m gonna do.” You squeeze your fist tighter and close your eyes shut as a last ditch effort. “Please make my deepest wish come true.”

You slowly opened your eyes to see nothing in the sky anymore. Nothing but dark snowy clouds. You let out a pitiful chuckle as you felt tears brimming your eyes.

“What the hell am I doing…?” you whispered. “I am so fucking pathetic…” Maybe it was just a stupid plane after all. You meekly crawled back to your spot on the floor and layed down a few inches away from your laptop. The movie was still playing and the time read “12:01 A.M.”. It was officially Christmas. And today, just like every Christmas, you were drunk and alone. The sounds of actual church bells rang throughout your room from the outside. You lazily stared at the movie that was nearing its end.

“‘Just remember, the true spirit of Christmas lies in your heart.’”

‘Santa Claus… Christmas… wishing… it’s all a bunch of shit…’

As you felt your eyelids grow heavier and heavier, you soon gave into your tiredness praying that your hangover in the morning wouldn’t be too bad.

*****

Rustle… Rustle… THUD!

You are jolted awake at the sound of a large thudding sound coming from outside your bedroom door. Bleary-eyed, you check the time on your phone. It was 3 A.M.. Thinking it was just your neighbors, you laid back down on the cold hard floor. Until, a few seconds later, you are woken up again this time with a large bang. 

Okay, that sounded way too close to be your neighbor. Someone was definitely in your apartment. You carefully snuck over to your bedroom door and pressed your ear against it. You couldn’t hear any voices (which makes sense), all you could hear was the sounds of something rustling.Are you actually getting robbed?! On fucking Christmas?! Oh hell no! Fueled with drunken courage and hazy eyes, you grabbed the empty wine bottle and quietly snuck out of your room. Peeking around the corner, you saw a tall, dark figure looming in your living room. You quickly flipped on the lights and jumped from around the corner raising the bottle above your head, ready to smack a bitch if they tried to run.

“Alright! Who the fuck are–!”

 You stopped dead in your tracks and the wine bottle you held tightly in your hands dropped to the floor with a solid thud. The man standing in your living room, staring you dead in your eyes like a deer caught in headlights of a lifted Ford truck, was wearing a vibrant red suit complete with black boots, white gloves, and a red had, had a long, fluffy white beard, a large white bag filled to the brim with wrapped presents, and twinkling blue eyes. You felt your breath catch in your throat. It was unmistakable.

“Santa Claus…?” you groggily called out.

The man’s face turned from caution to jolly in a matter of seconds as he let out his signature laugh.

“Ho ho ho!” he bellowed. “Well, this is odd! Shouldn’t all the little good boys and girls be asleep right now?”

“I… I was asleep… I-I think your bag woke me up when you set it down…”

“Ah! Of course! I was looking for your Christmas tree, but I can’t seem to find one. So, I was wondering where to leave your presents!”

“I don’t have a Christmas tree. I couldn’t afford one this year…” you told him, folding your arms. Wait. Why were you telling him anything?! This has to be a dream. Yes, just a drunk dream. There’s no way you could be talking to some strange man dressed as Santa Claus right now.

“I see… How unfortunate. Life must be so tough for you, Y/N L/N.”

Your eyes widened. “H-How do you know my name?”

Again, “Santa Claus”'s laugh rang throughout your tiny living room.

“Santa knows all the good boys and girls! And you have been extra good this year!” he exclaimed. He bent down and started rummaging through his bag as if he was looking for something.

Your attention snapped to your front door. You were sure that you had locked it. Squinting, you didn’t notice anything strange about it. The deadbolt was still locked. It wasn’t even left open for a clean getaway if this were an actual robbery or even a dream. None of your windows open, they’re more like decoration. It’s brutal in the summer when the building’s AC stops randomly. So how did–

“How did you get in my apartment?” 

“Santa Claus” stopped searching through his bag, but didn’t look up at you. He just… stared down into it like he didn’t want to make conversation with you.

“I don’t have a chimney. This low-rated rat hole would never give such a luxury. Plus, none of the windows open. I locked my door with a deadbolt so I would’ve definitely heard you if you had tried breaking in through the front door, not while you were looking around for a Christmas tree so… how did you get in here?”

You could feel the tension rising as silence choked the jolly air around him. After a moment, the man raised his head to look at you. You felt your blood run cold. He was smiling, but his eyes… no longer had that same twinkle in them like before.

“How do you think I got in here?” he asked stiffly. Shivers rolled down your spine and you couldn’t bring yourself to speak a word. The man laughed again, but not his silly jolly laugh. It was more rigid and harsh. “I’m Santa Claus. Even if homes don’t have a chimney… I can still find my way in.”

‘Okay! I’m done with this dream now! I’d like to wake up! Wake up, me! Wake up!’

But, nothing changed. If this were a dream, something anxiety inducing would’ve happened by now. Like Santa Claus melting or turning into an eldritch monster. The air felt like it was suffocating you ever so slowly as your heart started to beat faster and faster.

“You look like you don’t believe me.” You jumped at his voice. He smiled even brighter and pointed the opening of his gift bag towards you. “Why don’t you see for yourself. I have a present here just for you.”

You swallowed hard. “A-A present…? But I–” You could barely stutter out a sentence before he spoke again.

“It’s what you deeply wished for.”

Your eyes widened again. Those choice of words… It couldn’t have been an accident. How would he… unless he…

You found yourself slowly inching towards the gift bag. It felt like an out-of-body experience. Like watching a first-person POV of someone doing something extremely stupid. As you stopped mere inches from the bag, you peered inside to see nothing but an almost seemingly amount of presents that ranged from big to small throughout the bag. Just as you tried to peek down further into the bag, you felt a large gloved hand grab the back of your neck.

“Sorry kid. No witnesses.”

Before you could utter a word or scream in shock, you are unceremoniously shoved into Santa's bulging sack of gifts. As the bag closed tight above you, your panic-filled mind finally kicked in as you screamed and thrashed around the bag. However, the more you screamed and kicked, the more the weight and closeness of the presents started to crush around you. This set in more panic and then more kicking and screaming.

“Don’t worry. It’ll be all over soon.”

‘What?! What does that mean?!’ You continued to scream and clawed at the walls of the bag to try and rip through. With a sudden jerk motion, you were lifted into the air and the bag was thrown over the man’s shoulder causing what seemed like a hurricane of presents to rain down on you. As you tried to kick up towards the opening again, you left out a gasp when your foot hit nothing. The more you kicked the more you stuffed yourself down the ocean of presents currently crushing you from all sides. When you tried to reach out to the side to claw at the bag again, you again found nothing. And again, the more you tried to reach, the more your arms got stuck wedged against the weight and size of the presents. There seemed no end as the presents continued to suffocate you, pressing hard against your stomach, legs, head, and chest.

You felt your vision starting to blacken out and called out once more.

“Please… someone… help me…”

But, your voice was too low and soon, you did not speak again.

*****

Your eyes fluttered open to see nothing but darkness all around you. You let out a grunt as your head pounded harshly only to find out that your mouth had been taped shut. 

‘What the fuck?’

You tried to take the tape off your mouth only to find your hands tied together.

‘What the fuck?’

You stretched out from your fetal only for feet to to hit a solid wall. Not only that, your feet were also bound together.

‘What the fuck?!’

You jerked up only for your head to meet a solid wall.

‘Ow! What the FUCK?!’

Your head pounded again and you laid back down trying to remember how you got in this situation. All you can remember is drinking your problems away and watching the Polar Express, and then… wishing on a plane in the sky…? And then Santa Claus showed up?

‘Ugh… fuck me… Did I sleepwalk into an empty plot again?’ You tried with all your might to try and bang on the walls of the box that you were currently in, but with this hangover all you were doing was making yourself tired and nauseous. You sighed with a huff. ‘I swear if I die in here, I’m gonna ghost sue these assholes…’

How long had you even been here? Were you even alive at this point? If you are, how long until the air in here runs out and you suffocate? Ugh… too many thoughts were making your head pound even more. Oh, what a tragic and pitiful end for our tragic and pitiful protagonist–

“Oh, wow! What a huge present!” a voice from outside shouted. You jolted in surprise. Who was that? And did they say present?

“I wonder what Santa got me~?” the voice asked melodically. Santa Claus? Wait, so… that wasn’t a dream?! The sounds of gift wrapping paper answered your question. You didn’t get super drunk and walk into a cemetery and crawl into a coffin like last time. You got super drunk and got stuffed into a giant Christmas present. You want to be disappointed with this development, but honestly you’ve found yourself in much worse situations than this. Like how on three Valentine’s Days ago you unknowingly joined a cannibal love nest cult when buying candy for yourself.

The lid of the box was aggressively thrown creaked open, revealing the most enchanting sight — you were surrounded and bathed in the glow of fairy lights. Blinking away the haze, you found yourself in an unfamiliar room, illuminated by soft, colorful lights and warm furniture. This place was definitely better than your dinky apartment. Your eyes then landed on the strikingly charming individual with the most captivating eyes you’ve ever seen and an endearing yet unsettling aura seeping from him. You felt your heart skip a beat as you locked eyes with the gorgeous hottie staring you down. His cute smile was twice as blinding as the dozen of lights surrounding the two of you.

“Looks like Santa got my letter. Just what I wanted for Christmas~.”

‘Holyshitholyshitholyshitholyshitholyshitsholyshitholyshit–’

“Homy shmpf! Phuu’re hmpf!” You tried to shout.

Blinking a few times, the hottie deliciously chuckled and reached for the tape around your mouth. “Lemme get that for you, sweetheart. Only if you promise not to scream.”

Oh please, like you’d scream in a situation like this.

“There you go–”

“Holy shit! You’re hot!” you shout again. “Whoa… this has to be a dream. There’s no way that I’m sitting in a human sized box in a hottie’s apartment. I gotta buy more of that wine.” you muttered to yourself. You felt a tiny pinch on your cheek and snapped out of your muttering to lock eyes with those gorgeous eyes again.

“Ow… that hurt…”

“Then you’re not dreaming, sweetheart.”

“Woah…” You reeled back into the box. “I’m actually sitting in a hottie’s apartment…”

He chuckled. “House, my love. Not an apartment.”

“House?”

“Yes.”

“Like a house house? Like with a mortgage and shit?”

“The house is fully paid off. My parents paid it off and handed it to me when they retired and moved.”

“For real?!” you gasped and gasped even harder at the sights behind him. “Are those Sanrio plushies?! And a 5-foot Rilakkuma bear?! A PS5, a polaroid camera, an Apple laptop?! What are you, loaded or something?!” you exclaimed in astonishment.

“Well, it’s true that I spared no expense getting this place ready.” he chuckled again. “After all, I spent a lot of time getting all this stuff ready just in time for you.”

“For me?”

“Of course. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t know what my girlfriend liked?”

You paused for a moment, soaking in his words. “Boyfriend…? Girlfriend?”

“That’s right.”

“You and me?”

“Yup.”

“Me and you?”

“Mhm!”

“You’re my boyfriend?”

“Yes, my love. I was getting a little impatient waiting to take you for myself. So, I asked Santa to deliver you to me.”

You couldn’t believe your ears and eyes. You wished upon a stupid star/plane, got kidnapped by Santa Claus, and got unwrapped by a gorgeous man that’s now your boyfriend. 

“Where the hell have you been hiding, huh? If I knew a hottie like you was scoping me out all this time I would’ve delivered myself without the gag and restraints.”

The hottie paused for a moment and smiled again. It seems like your reaction to all this wasn’t what he was expecting. “I’ll untie you if you promise you won’t start trying to escape.”

You scoffed and handed him your bound hands. “Oh, please. Yeah, I’m gonna escape and run back to my 250 sq. ft. apartment with no hot water, no heating, and no one waiting for me that even notices I’m gone.”

The hottie laughed softly and began to untie your hands. “And trust me. I wasn’t hiding. I left you gifts every moment I got. However, whenever I saw you, you never had them.” After untying your hands, he gave you a sullen look. “Did you not like them?”

You rubbed your wrists and titled your head in confusion. “Gifts? I never got any gifts.”

“Don’t lie to me, Y/N. I’ve been leaving you gifts and small tokens for two years.”

“I’m not lying! If I had gotten anything from someone like you, I would’ve been here two years ago.” you defended. “Where did you leave them?”

“On your desk at work, on your doormat, in your mailbox! I placed them everywhere you could see.”

If you weren’t so hungover you’d scream your head off. “Ugh…! Oh my fucking God…” you grumbled angrily, lightly banging your head on the corner of the box. You knew it! Your coworkers were cock-blocking you from finding true love. “All my coworkers are conniving, evil, love-hating bitches! And my boss is a misogynistic, sexual power harasser. They probably threw those presents away when I wasn’t at my desk.”

Your new boyfriend’s eyes grew dark. “What about your apartment?”

“Ugh… those animals would steal chewed up gum after you spit it out. They probably stole it while I was out at work. And my mailbox got broken into 6 months after moving in. All my bills are on autopay.”

As your boyfriend’s face grew darker, his smile remained. “Well, it’s a good thing I told them you quit and got you out of that disgusting “apartment”.”

Your mouth dropped at his words.

“R-Really? So, my job?”

“You don’t need one. I make enough money to support 5 of you. Plus, everything you could ever want is here anyways.”

“My apartment?”

“Considering most of the things in your “apartment” came from the side of the road, just tell me and I’ll buy whatever needs replacing.”

You leaned in close. “And my boss?” you whispered.

He leaned in closer, both your noses touching. “Dead, if you want him to be.”

Holy shit. Let’s go over the list.

He is: 

✔ Hot as fuck

✔ Obsessive

✔ Tall

✔ Built

✔ Has a cute smile

✔ Puppy face

✔ Not too overbearing

✔ Dommy

✔ Willing to support your lazy piece of shit lifestyle

✔ Owns a home

JACKPOT!!

“This is the BEST CHRISTMAS EVER!” you shouted, but immediately regretted it when a sharp throbbing pain pierced your head. You clutched your head, tenderly rubbing your temples.

“Woah, are you okay?” he gently asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a hangover…” you smiled wearily.

“I’ll get you some water and Ibuprofen. Wait here. Don’t move, okay?”

Again, you shot him a look that told him that you didn’t have anywhere to go.

“Oh, and uh, thanks… um…”

“Karasuda Ren. But you can only call me Ren, okay Y/N?”

“Okay, Ren.” you smiled. He smiled back at you and headed to the kitchen. You sat in the box looking around at the beautiful home filled with Ren’s things combined with the things you love. If you weren’t on cloud 9 right now, you would plan a vindictive revenge plan on your job. But, now you had nothing to worry about anymore. Your wish came true and he was even cuter than you could’ve possibly imagined.

“Oh!” Ren suddenly called out. “Since you might be hungover, you probably won’t be able to eat this cake I made huh?”

“Homemade cake?! I love– Woah?!” You shot up at just the word cake and fell out of the box and face first into the floor.

“My love! Are you okay?” Ren asked, rushing to you with a glass of water in his hand.

“Yep! I’m okay! I forgot that my feet are also tied up sooo… can you help me?”

Ren laughed and helped you back on your butt and began to untie your feet. After that, he handed you the water and the bottle of Ibuprofen. Swallowing the pills dry and drinking a few gulps of water, you began to feel a little better with some water in your system now.

Just as you were about to get up, you were immediately swept off your feet and carried bridal style across the living room. You let out a tiny yelp as your head made contact with Ren’s warm chest.

“W-What’re you doing?”

“Oh. Did you think I wasn’t going to hog you all to myself? You’re my Christmas present and I intend to enjoy this day and many more with you by my side.”

You felt your face burn as you were sure your face was as red as a habanero. Well, this was your Christmas wish too. It’s finally your time to enjoy the lovey-dovey part of this holiday. 

Throughout the entire day, you had never felt more love and content. Despite your initial shock, you soon got used to the huge shower of affection your new boyfriend continued to give you. Karasuda Ren, while intense and possessive, showered you with affection and attention unlike anything you had experienced before. He filled you with so much cake and food, you felt like you were gonna pop.

The loneliness that had haunted you dissipated in the wake of this blooming, although unconventional, relationship, was replaced by a new sense of belonging.

As Christmas lights flickered outside, you found yourself entangled in a love both warm and intense. The hours that passed brought a mix of emotions that you could get used to feeling everyday for the rest of your life.

This was it. Your deepest Christmas wish came true. You were finally happy. Only one question was left on your mind.

“Hey, so, how did you start liking me? Have we met before and I just didn’t pay attention or…?”

“No, we’d never even spoken to each other. About 3 years ago on Christmas Eve, I was riding the subway on my way home when I heard a bunch of drunk people get on.” Ren grimaced just remembering the situation. “I wasn’t anywhere near them, but I could smell the alcohol. I was going to change cars when I heard them start to argue with someone, I turned around and I saw you. You looked so tired and angry.”

“Really? I don’t remember that.” you hummed, trying to think back.

“I was going to step in, but you had already clocked one guy in the jaw and dropped the other guy like a sack of flour.”

“Oh yeah! I remember that now!”

“That moment, I fell in love with you at first sight. It took a while to find you again, but after I did I knew in my heart that I could never ever let you go.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet, Ren! Man, I guess first impressions always stick. Kind of embarrassing that your first sighting of me was when I was drunk.”

“...You were drunk?”

“Oh, I was fucking wasted. I always get smashed on Christmas Eve. It’s kind of a tradition. I was drunk off my ass the night Santa took me too.”

“...Y/N.”

“Mhm?”

“You can’t drink in front of other men. If you plan on drinking, let me know and I’ll take care of you. No one can see you drunk and vulnerable except me, okay?”

“Of course, my love! Maybe next year, you can show me where you got that kickass mulled wine from.”

“Mulled wine?”

“Yeah, that one you left on my doorstep. With the note.”

“I didn’t leave anything on your doorstep.”

“...”

“...”

“Hmm… maybe I should stop drinking random alcohol that appears next to me…”

“Y/N?!”

Bonus:

As you both were cuddled up on the couch half-asleep, watching a random Christmas movie as the fireplace crackled in the background, you were brought back to a realization. You never thanked the person that made this all possible.

You quickly got up causing Ren to jolted up at your sudden movements and stare at you wide-eyed as you made your way to his window.

“Baby, what’re you doing?” he asked cautiously with a yawn.

“I need to probably thank the person that brought us together today.”

You collapsed your hands together and smiled up at the starry-night sky, immediately catching a glimpse of the brightest twinkling star in the sky.

“Oh, you mean Santa–”

“Oh, thank you Lord Gege, you are truly my savior. If I had known praying to you would’ve gotten me results like this I would’ve prayed sooner. You are truly the ‘God of Handsome Men’.”

“Wait– what?”

“I will continue to support you and buy all of your merchandise…”

“...Y/N?”

“Mhm?”

“Are you praying to another man? While your boyfriend is right here?” You could hear the pout in his voice, but his face screamed baby-faced yandere.

You smiled and made your way back to your spot on the sofa. “Well, Lord Gege is more like a God amongst men to me now. But, of course I had to thank him.” You softly poked Ren’s puffed up cheeks. “I prayed to him the night before and he granted my wish. I am now the girlfriend to the cutest man alive!”

Ren blushed your words and decided to let your little prayer slide this time. Looks like you found the cute yandere’s weakness. Whether you decide to tease him in the future only time will tell.

—

a/n: merry christmas, my trash babies~˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ i know it's been a while since i've updated, but i couldn't leave the year off without a little slight yandere fic. i was planning on uploading two fics this month, but adhd brain and procrastination are praying on my downfall. so enjoy, a cute fic with a cute soft yandere for the holidays.

happy holidays~!❆⋆꙳•☃︎⋆꙳•✩⋆꙳•❅

[steddiealltheway]

Thinking about Steve on this Mother’s Day.

He comes home and notices a familiar van parked in his driveway, but no one is in it. It’s strangely eerie, and Steve knows that Eddie usually waits for him, but maybe he’s in his backyard.

Steve goes to his front door and tries to unlock it but notices it’s already been unlocked. Okay. Time to get the bat.

He runs back to his car and grabs the nail bat out of his trunk. Maybe Eddie’s just playing a prank on him, but he can never be too sure. He makes his way back to the front door and slowly opens it.

Oh.

There are balloons covering his place and he can hear shushes and some giggles. “Hello?” Steve asks playing along a bit. But he also wonders who all is there.

“Happy Mother’s Day!” A chorus of people shout uncoordinated as they jump out from behind things.

Steve takes a moment to take in all the kids, Eddie, and even Robin staring at him in anticipation.

Steve doesn’t know what to do except laugh. He’s close to tears as everyone approaches him and Eddie decides to turn the moment into a group hug.

“How did you get into my house?” Steve asks as he squeezed in the middle.

Dustin replies loudly over everyone else, “Eddie broke into your window! It was so cool!”

As the group hug breaks apart with a few people - Max - pretending like they’re too cool for it, Steve makes eye contact with Eddie and who looks as proud as he was when he hot wired the RV. He’ll have to lecture him again about not breaking into his house, but that will come later.

“How did you guys get out of your own Mother’s Day celebrations?” Steve asks.

“We told them that we were keeping our gifts for them at your house and had to stop here before coming back,” Dustin says excitedly.

“Hey, Dingus, that wasn’t your plan. Stop taking credit for it,” Robin says looking like she’s holding back from hitting him on the back of the head. She turns to Steve and continues, “Don’t worry, the gifts stayed at Eddie’s house before being moved to mine after careful consideration.”

“I told Joyce what we were doing,” El says looking at Will with some concern before turning back to Steve. “But she made you a cake.”

“That’s where it came from?” Mike asks. “Shit, she’s gonna tell my mom. She’s going to tell all of our moms.”

“Shit! Abort mission!” Dustin yells and runs and hugs Steve. “Bye Steve! Happy Mother’s Day!”

The other kids run out the door saying quick goodbyes to Steve. When the door closes, Steve looks back at Robin and Eddie and asks, “Did they grab the gifts for their moms?”

Eddie and Robin look at each other then rush to the front door and open it in time to see the kids raiding Eddie’s van and getting their bikes out of the bushes they were hidden in. “I’m going to say yes,” Robin says.

“Be careful!” Steve yells as they bike away somehow managing to hold their presents and biking at the same time. As El climbs on the back on Will’s bike and they take off, Steve sighs, “When do I have to tell them they’re getting too old for that?”

“When you teach El how to ride a bike, Mom,” Robin laughs and nudges Steve. “But hey, I have to head out, too,” she hugs Steve and says, “Too bad there isn’t an Aunt’s Day.”

“I’ll drive you back,” Eddie tells Robin as she salutes him and walks to his car.

Steve does his signature mom stance and looks at Eddie. “Did you plan this just so you could break into my house?”

“Hey, who said I planned this,” Eddie says with a wide grin. “But if I did, then no, that was not the sole intention of this. Plus, Dustin was the first to say we should briefly celebrate Mother’s Day with you, so it really wasn’t all me-”

Steve cuts off Eddie with a hug. “Thank you,” he whispers as Eddie squeezes him a bit tighter. When they pull away they stare at each other for a few moments.

A loud car horn interrupts their moment. “Come on love birds, I need to go!” Robin yells.

Steve curses her under his breath then smiles at Eddie. “Better head out.”

“I’ll be back after I drop her off. And hey, there’s a surprise for you in your room. Happy Mother’s Day,” Eddie says with a bright grin and walks towards his car.

“Wait!” Steve says and hesitates as Eddie turns around, “Does this mean we have to celebrate Father’s Day with you?”

Eddie laughs loudly as Robin groans. “Absolutely!” Eddie replies as his laughter dies down and he gets in the van.

Steve waves at them as they take off. Once they’re out of sight, he takes off up the stairs to his room. He opens the door and spots a pile of poorly wrapped gifts on his bed then a note that says “CAKE IS IN THE FRIDGE” with a poorly drawn smiley face on it.

Steve takes a moment to collect himself and he whispers under his breath, “You’re not going to cry about this.” He pinches his nose and smiles as his vision slightly blurs.

Even with how brief the visit was, it absolutely made Steve’s day. “Happy Mother’s Day to me,”Steve laughs as a tear escapes down his face.

He really loves his kids.

[mxtantrights]

Do you think Jason would attend pta meetings for his twins? I think he’d make enemies with some of the snooty moms.

YES! oh my god YES thank you anon for sending this in!! he's a PTA MOM in disguise for sureee. you can't take this away from me.

Jason makes brownies because it's easier to cut into squares and put into Tupperware. he knows this to his CORE. won't let you make cupcakes or cake or anything that would make a big mess.

he probably hears twice the gossip of any usual PTA member because, for one, most of them can't believe he's an active member, and two, Jason has a very inviting aura.

Jason makes posters with the parents on Saturdays and invites them over to your house for casual chit-chat and food. oh best believe he will put a pot roast on and say that it was you who wanted it just so he could feed them.

is the first to offer to carpool. always.

he knows everyone by name but usually doesn't use all their names all the time. just to throw off from time to time, the mean parents who exclude other parents or always have something foul to say

Jason actually gets the chance to baby-sit some of the kids at different ages so it's like practice for the twins. he already knows how to French braid, cornrow, box braid. He also probably secures hand men downs from the other parents

Jason is frugal and he knows kids outgrow things in a matter of weeks. why pay for sneakers when he can get them for free from Marsha who is a single mother trying to make room in her garage for her personal gym.

you very much let him take it in stride that he's the PTA parent.

probably because you're the parent that no one wants to have to call when there is trouble. you will lay the law down for your babies. even the principal doesn't want to call you.

one of your kids said a bad word in class? call Jason. He'll talk to them about it and let it go.

you? you're demanding that someone else in class taught your kids that word. you're calling an emergency school board meeting about vulgar words.

Jason likes planning events too. He put on the first play the twins were in. It was a live action reenactment of a The giving tree.

he spends nights up sewing costumes and gluing decorations together. give Jason a task and he's making it his passion project. which is so concerning to some of the PTA parents who only know him as the burly man who brings brownies and hosts infamous parties at his house.

Jason doesn't care about his reputation at this point. will go out full PTA mode if he has to. Takes over someone shift as crossing guard one morning. Will put up posters around town and create whole websites for anything the kids need.

Also secretly gets Bruce to underwrite what the school needs. I mean, he's not gonna let the old man waste his money! it's for a good cause!

[tvgals]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ I WANT SOME CAKE, AND IM NOT TALKING THE SWEET .

husband! gojo x black! baker! wife! reader x customer! geto

synopsis — when your best customer comes into your shop, your husband feels the need to share, just so your oh so best customer can see what he’s missing out on.

cw; food play, threesome, jealous gojo, ass eating?? awkward/ nervous geto in a way, semi-public sex, fluff to smut to fluff, my smut writing abilities aren’t the best so bare with me!!

you were in the back of the shop when you heard the bell over your shop door ring, signifying someone was here. “i’ll be there in just a second! take a moment to read over our menu if you’d like!” you call from the back. “ahh, i already know what’d i’d like.” you heard geto call from the counter. geto was one of your most loyal customers. he’d been one of your first clients to come to your shop when it first opened. you were a one man show, baking, icing, commercials, you name it. you met your husband gojo just two years after you’d created the shop, ten years in running and seven years of being married.

you basically ran from your spot in the kitchen to the counter. “geto! i haven’t seen you in a while. where ya’ been at?” you ask, crossing your arms on the counter and leaning forward. “y’know, around. met this girl and i’m talkin’ to her i guess.” geto shrugs, looking at the menu as if he didn’t get the same thing every time. “ooo, i see. are you gonna order or just stare like you don’t get the same thing every time?” you laugh, geto blushing at your bubbly smile. “yeah yeah. you know what i get. i’ll get a cinnamon bun with a glass of strawberry lemonade.” geto whispers, almost embarrassed of what he looks like ordering something so girly.

“comin’ right up.” you smile, walking into your kitchen. your husband walks into the shop with his arms open. “hey!” he smiles, everyone in the shop saying their hellos back. “in the back!” you alert your husband, who was making his way to geto. “hey.” gojo mumbles, picking food out his teeth. “hey. y/n’s in the back making my cinnamon roll.” geto replies, stretching. you stand in the back packing up geto’s cinnamon roll in a styrofoam box. you put his strawberry lemonade in a cup, a cute pink straw to compliment it. you walk to the front, looking at your husband and your best friend standing awkwardly next to each other.

“five twenty six.” you smile, handing geto his treat. geto grabs his wallet and hands you a ten dollar bill. “keep the change. i’ll be back later, yeah?” geto smiles, taking his cinnamon roll and drink and walking out. “see you later!” you wave goodbye, putting the 10 dollars in your cash register. “ain’t he the charmer?” gojo mumbles, walking behind the counter with you. “ah, he’s just generous like that.” you shrug. watching five more customers walk up to the counter.

“hello! i’m y/n, what can i get for you?” you smile, discarding of your old gloves and putting on new ones. gojo watched you as your customers ordered, your bright smile never faltering. “want help?” gojo asks, peering down at you. “i would appreciate it.” you grin, walking to the back. gojo washes his hands and puts on his own pair of gloves. your husband watches as you walk around the kitchen, staring at your ass.

“jesus, baby. might have to close shop early. those shorts look too good on you.” gojo teases, grabbing plates and a few styrofoam boxes to put the food in. “gojo! they can hear you y’know.” you roll your eyes playfully. “oh well, let them hear about how hot my wife is.” gojo snickers, smiling at your playful banter. “being hot won’t get any customers.” you say, putting a batch of cookies in the oven. “oh yes it will..” gojo grins, taking a few cups and straws.

“mhm…” you hum, leaning on the sink while the cookies baked. “y’know that geto guy…” gojo started, sighing. you let out a little laugh, grabbing a cup from gojo’s hand. “what about him?” you ask, watching the ice cubes fall into the cup. “uhhh, what’s his deal? is he dating someone orrrr…” gojo asks, turning to you. you shrug your shoulders and sigh. “yeah, he said he’s talking to this girl. i’m proud of him, actually. he’s been stuck on me for a while. i’m glad he can move on.” you smile. you realize gojo’s face falters a bit, him shifting on the balls of his feet.

“hm.” gojo hums. you open up the oven and take the cookie out with a mitten, hissing at the feeling of the heat through the mittens. “what’s wrong now?” you roll your eyes, looking over at him. “it’s just…he had a crush on you and you’re still friends with him?” gojo asks, his face scrunched up. “i mean, it was a while ago. i’m just glad he found someone else.” you shrug your shoulders, placing a few of the cookies into a plastic bag. “i see.” gojo mutters.

you walk out the kitchen to give your customers their orders, then happily taking them and paying you. “well, that’s the last of the day.” you smile to gojo, who was following behind you. “if you help me clean you can get a present afterwards.” you whisper, rubbing your thighs together. “is that so?” gojo whispers back, leaning over you. “mhm.” you hum, pressing a kiss to his lips. “but firssttt, cleaning.” you grin, handing gojo a broom. he groans and then smiles at you, grabbing your face with one hand to press a kiss to your lips one last time. “alright, ma’am.” gojo says, walking into the main entrance and starts sweeping. you grabbed a pair of gloves and started cleaning your counter and washing a few dishes. once you and gojo were both finished, you both plopped into one of the booths.

“hard day, huh sweetheart?” gojo asks, pulling you closer to him. “very. had more customers than usual lately. might have to start hiring…” you reply, fumbling with the hem of gojo’s shirt. “mmm…i can always help you, baby. i can always take some time off.” gojo suggests, rubbing your thigh. “no, no. your job is more important than mine.” gojo’s face scrunched up at this, a disapproving sigh falling from his lips. “nonsense. i am proud to say that my wife has one of the most successful bakeries in the city.” he smiles, pulling you onto his lap. gojo starts to kiss at your collarbone, looking up at you as your head lolls back in ecstasy.

“‘m gonna take you right here, yeah? is that okay with you?” gojo breathes out against your neck. you let out an airily laugh and a barely audible “yeah” and gojo starts to unbutton your shorts, unzipping them. you help gojo by shimmying out of them, your white lacy panties now soaked. “you’re so pretty, sweetheart.” gojo compliments, reaching around under your shirt to unhook your bra. you watch as gojo starts to take your shirt off, you raising your arms to make it easier. gojo sits you on the table, admiring your body. “my wife is so pretty…” gojo whines to himself, letting his hands roam around your body.

“gojo…” you mewl, arching your back. “i’m right here, baby…” he responds, pressing kisses down your stomach. “t-this isn’t sanitary…” you mumble, seeing gojo let out a chuckle. “it’s alright. we’ll be sure to clean it real good afterwards.” gojo smirked, pulling your panties aside. gojo pressed open mouthed kisses to your cute pussy, his nose nudging your clit. your hand moves to the back of his head, forcing the lower half of his face into your pussy. “that’s it, baby…fuckkk!” you moan,your thighs clenching against his head. gojo patted the inside of your thighs, signaling for you to open your legs. you whined and open up a little bit more, gojo running his hands along your thigh.

your sighs and moans eventually got louder, taking over you and gojo’s ears. which is why neither of you heard he shop door being opened. “y/n, that cinnamon-“ geto was cut off by the sight of you two, his lips pursing together. he lets out a nervous sigh, him feeling blood rush down to his dick. “shit, baby!” you moan, arching your back. “‘m gonna cum!” you warn gojo, your head falling to where the shop door was. geto’s eyes widened, him choking back a gasp. you eventually came with a groan. “shit, gojo…” you laughed, opening your eyes. your eyes widened at the sight of geto. “shit! hey!” you greeted geto in the least flustered way you could muster.

“uhh, i get it’s a bad time, sorry.” geto apologizes, putting his hands up in defense. geto turns on his heel, about to walk out the door before gojo let out a laugh. “stay. i wouldn’t mind sharing.” gojo laughs, looking at you. “would you mind, sweetheart?” you take a few moments, looking at the two men. “not at all…” you smile. “perfect.” gojo picks you up and walks you into the break room, laying you on the pink couch that you put in there. “cmon in, big boy.” gojo coaxes geto into the room. geto can feel his dick straining against his pants, his breath hitching in his throat at the sight of you with your tits out and your legs open wide.

geto stalks closer to you, hovering over you and slotting a knee between your legs. “you’re so pretty…” geto whispers, pressing kisses to your lips. gojo smirks and leaves the room, walking into your little kitchen and opening the fridge door. he grabs the whipped cream and shakes it up a bit, putting a dollop in his mouth and walking back to you and geto. gojo places the whipped cream on the side of the couch, geto pulling away when he saw gojo’s feet. geto looks up at him, his breath getting heavier. “jesus. you’re such a dog, aren’t you?” gojo mocks, forcefully moving geto from on top of you and putting you on all fours on the couch.

gojo sits behind you while geto sat in front of you, geto only in his boxers. “hand me that, yeah?” gojo asks, pointing to the whipped cream. geto grabs it and hands it to gojo. he puts a mound of whipped cream on the small of your back. you let out a little “oh” at the feeling. gojo brings a hand down and smears it along your ass, some of it getting between your ass cheeks. “don’t just stare. shove your dick down her throat.” gojo says to geto. geto’s eyes widen and he takes his boxers off, his dick hitting almost above his bellybutton. you look up at geto, arching your back and grabbing his dick with two hands.

gojo is still behind you eating your ass, the whipped cream making it even more sweet. “shit..” you moaned on geto’s dick. he bucked his hips up at the feeling, mumbling out “sorry”’s. geto’s hand tangled into your hair, pushing you down farther onto his dick. you coughed and sputtered a bit, still taking him in your mouth. “ah shit…” gojo mutters, pulling away from your ass to rub your clit a bit. “that’s it…” gojos smiles. geto cums into your mouth with a groan. “mhmmm…” you moan, rolling your eyes back. you pop off of his dick and smile at him, kissing along his abs. “come get a taste, yeah?” gojo asks, looking at geto. gojo and geto switch places. now you and gojo are facing each other with you sitting on geto’s face.

“you’re so pretty, baby.” gojo smiles, pressing kisses to your lips. you hold onto gojo’s thighs while grinding on geto’s face. “thank you, baby…” you moan, kissing him back. the kisses are sloppy and wet, sounding almost identical to the sound of geto eating you out. “oh my god..” geto moaned into your ass, his hands grabbing at your ass cheeks. “m gonna cum again..” you warn geto, grinding even harder. “cum baby.” gojo whispered in your ear. you came with a loud moan, throwing your head back in pleasure. “oh shitttt…” geto moaned from under you. you rode out your high for a minute, letting out pants and whines. gojo picked you up, you wrapping your legs around his waist.

“you can go now. hope you didn’t think i was gonna let you stay.” gojo smirked. geto pursed his lips together, standing up and scurrying out the shop.

“i really wanna know what he thought about the cinnamon roll.”

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reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated :3

[lulublack90]

Prompt 24 - Dealer

@jegulus-microfic July 24, Word count 886

Previous part First part

James walked up to the main door of the fancy-looking flats. It was an old town house that had been converted into separate contained units. Regulus had invited him over last night after they'd said goodnight. They'd met up every day since they'd met, and James was loving every second of it. He rang the bell labelled Rosier. The intercom crackled to life. 

“Yeah?” A voice grunted on the other end. 

“Er, hi, my name is James and —”

“We’re not interested,” The voice cut him off. James pressed the button again. 

“Hi, sorry, I’m—” James tried again. 

“Look mate, we’re not interested, so fuck off!” The man shouted down the line. 

“Barty, what are you doing?” A softer voice spoke. “Hello?” The voice said to James. 

“Hi, is Regulus there?” He asked quickly before he was interrupted. 

“Oh, are you the new beau? Come on up, I’ll buzz you in,” The line clicked off and an unpleasant buzzing sounded until James opened the door. He walked up to the top floor and knocked gently on the door. 

The door flew open to reveal two twenty-something young men, shoving each other to get a better look at him. 

“Oooooo, he wasn’t lying. He’s fit as fuck,” Barty leered, his eyes running up and down James. 

“So handsome and those muscles. Nom,” The other man bit his lip as he looked James over. “Come on in,” The man waved him in. 

“Thanks,” He walked into the flat. It was spacious and stylishly decorated. “James,” He said to the pair and offered his hand. 

“I’m Evan and this miscreant is Barty. Welcome to our flat. Regulus is on his way and Pandora is right through here. Evan led James into the living room where a waif of a girl was sitting on the sofa with her feet curled underneath her. She turned her head when they entered the room and her long, almost white blond hair swirled around her. 

“Is this him?” She asked, jumping lightly to her feet. 

“Yep, this is him,” Evan replied. Pandora approached James and grasped his face with her tiny hands before closing her eyes. James was shocked, but as the other two didn’t react, he decided to go with it. 

“You have a beautiful aura, James.” She told him, releasing his face. 

“Erm, thanks,” He didn’t know what to make of that. Just then, the front door opened and Regulus entered the flat. 

“Is James here yet?” Regulus called through as the sound of carrier bags rustled past. 

“Yes, he's here. Your lover boy is getting the Pandora treatment,” Evan shouted back. 

“Merde. Sorry James, I’ll be right there.” Regulus hurried into the living room and went straight to James’s side, giving him a slightly awkward one-armed hug. 

“Oh, come on, you can do better than that,” Evan teased. Not one to back down from a challenge, James wrapped his arm around Regulus’s back and dipped him as he stole a kiss. Regulus was flushing violently when James set him back upright. They'd shared a goodnight kiss the night before so James hadn't felt bad for the surprise swoop. 

“Wooooooooo!” Evan and Barty chorused. 

“Shut up,” Regulus grumbled at them. “Let’s go make dinner,”

Everyone pitched in and dinner took no time at all to put together. They sat down at the tiny table with pasta in homemade tomato sauce and garlic bread. James’s mouth was watering. 

Barty pulled a lemon drizzle cake out of the fridge for pudding, that he’d baked that morning. By the time they’d finished, James was full to bursting and all he wanted to do was lie down and sleep. 

“Shall we play a game?” Barty asked innocently as they tidied away the dinner things.

“Ooooo, yes let’s,” Pandora danced across the kitchen and opened one of the drawers and took out a deck of cards, then she opened a cupboard and took out a bottle of Vodka. 

James followed the others into the living room and joined them on the floor, sitting in a circle. Pandora threw the deck of cards to Barty and helped Evan pour out shots and place them in front of everyone. 

“I’m banned from dealing, they say I cheat, but they're just sore losers,” Regulus confessed to James to a round of boos from the circle as Barty began to deal out the cards. “And Pandora gets a feel for the cards if she’s the dealer, so she is also banned.” 

"Too, right, Panda wins every time if she gets anywhere near the deck." Evan huffed as he neatened the pile of cards before him. 

“So, what are we playing?” James asked when he was given a small stack of cards. 

“Drunk Snap,” Regulus said and began to explain the rules of the game. “You play snap normally, whoever hits the deck first when the cards match and shouts snap wins the round, but that's where the drunk comes in. All the losers have to do a shot. It’s pretty simple.”

“Wait, how do you cheat at Snap?” James asked. The rules of Snap were pretty simple, and it was so fast-paced there usually wasn’t time to create strategies.

“Exactly,” Regulus said, looking at Evan and Barty in particular.

“Are we ready?” Pandora asked, flipping over the starter card, and they began.

Next part

[chaosology]

invisible strings

Sam Kerr x reader

uses this+this request

warnings: underage drinking, gay pining, not proof read so u can call me out on grammar and i wont get my feelings hurt.

masterlist

September, 2003 - Perth, Australia

"Mum, it's so obvious she doesn't want me there!" You whined. Your mother was haphazardly chucking a soccer ball in a birthday bag, arranging the blue paper around it so it was semi-presentable. Bless her, but you knew Sam wouldn't care for the wrapping.

She had awkwardly handed you a party invitation after school that day as you plucked your bags off the racks.

"My mum said I had to invite a girl to come, sorry. There's good cake, though. It's ice cream."

She ran off almost as fast as she appeared, leaving you outside your Year 4 class alone. Why you? You weren't sporty at all, she could've at least invited one of the netball girls - they were always picking Sam for their teams, too. You were the anti-Sam, spending lunch with a small group of girls playing hopscotch and batting your eyes for the teacher's approval.

Black marker in your hand, you scribbled down a messy "happy birthday, Sammy K" in one of the white spaces on the ball. Your mum had taken you to Big W to choose one after school immediately after, given the late notice. You held it back, admiring your work. Would a heart be appropriate?

Yes.

You only turn 10 once, right? You added it front and centre on the ball, writing your name in the middle so she knew who it was from (though, she could probably tell a tween boy didn't make such an effort).

The party was, as expected, all boys. Sam's mother had greeted you warmly at the door, ushering you in with a comforting (and almost apologetic smile). Sam ran over excitedly to grab the gift bag off you, grabbing your arm to pull you over to the snacks table. You were introduced to all the other boys there, most of whom you knew from school.

You smiled shyly at all of them, spending most of the time sitting on the folded chairs outside while nibbling on some fairy bread and praying your mum would come get you. Sam ran around with the boys all afternoon, leaving you all alone with your thoughts. As it turned out, you had gotten the wrong type of football for Sam. You felt guilty for rushing at the shops, but Sam had hid the disappointment well, even complimenting your handwriting.

As the day came to an end, you were joined by Isaac. He was a friend of Sam's from an outside sports league, but had forgotten his asthma puffer and had to call it after two hours of straight footy. You talked most of the afternoon, complaining about your random 10 year old problems. You couldn't help noticing the way Sam came to talk to you more when she noticed Isaac there.

She probably just felt bad, you thought.

October, 2007 - Perth, Australia

Things had blossomed with Isaac. You remained friends for a few years, which eventually grew into something more romantic. He was your first boyfriend, and unfortunately your first love.

You were both invited to a party up in the hills. He had begged you to go, having become engrossed in the rumours of cruisers and beers being supplied by who-fucking-care's older brother. You had little interest, but his incessant nagging was beginning to piss you off, so you agreed.

Unfortunately as you both matured, Isaac changed. He was egotistical and big-headed, busy with AFL and making crude comments when he thought you weren't listening. It was hard not to see him in a different light, but sometimes you were offered a small glimpse at the small, sweet boy who sat out of breath next to you at the party.

You tugged on the hem of the sort black dress you were wearing, trying desperately hard to pull it further down your thigh. Isaac suggested "something sexy" for the party, much to your disagreement. You relented, and were now regretting it as you faced the chilly atmosphere of Perth's spring. He showed little interest in you while you sat next to him in on the couch, only passing you a beer and whispering "don't be lame" in your ear. Safe to say, the party kinda sucked.

You considered telling him you were going out front for air, but the way he was basically eye-fucking Karen Davies made you think twice. You wandered outside with teary eyes, Corona bottle in your hand as you breezed through the crowd of sweaty teenagers.

"Y/N?"

You turned, face to face with... Sam? She was older now, with slightly longer hair down to her shoulders and dressed in an oversized hoodie. Why was she giving you butterflies?

"Hey Sam," your voice came, "Sorry, just getting some air."

"Mind if I join?"

You motioned wordlessly for her to follow, her hand placed lightly on the small of your back as you navigated the halls to the front yard. God, you were so glad she couldn't see the red hot blush that painted your cheeks.

The two of you found yourselves sitting on the curb, legs stretched lazily out into the street.

"So Isaac's a dick now, 'ey?"

It was so nonchalant that it barely seemed hostile, Sam just took another swig from her bottle, grumbling when she noticed it was empty.

"You also don't have to drink the rest of that, you know? Doesn't make you lame or whatever."

You silently passed her the bottle, expecting for her to just chuck in a bin when she passed one next. However, she downed it in one go.

"Dickhead! I thought you were gonna throw it out! What if I wanted that later?" You laughed, playfully attempting to shove her off the curb. She only giggled in response, lightly shoving you back.

"Hey, I never got to say thanks for that soccer ball all those years ago," she started, "I actually play now. Mum 'n dad made me stop AFL, all the guys are bigger than me. But I actually really like soccer, your ball was the one I first used." She looked almost embarrassed confessing it, a small blush spreading across her face.

"Oh god, I remember that. Sorry, I think I scribbled all over it."

"Nah, it's cute- It's cool, sorry. It's cool, I liked it." She stammered, getting what looked like progressively more and more red.

"What are you up to now?" She said, awkwardly trying to change the subject.

"Oh I dunno, not much. Studying a lot, really. Isaac's been so odd lately so it's usually just me... It'd be cool to be a doctor, I think."

She looked up, eyebrows raised.

"No way! I always knew you'd do something like that, you were such a teacher's pet in primary school... The smartest, most nerdiest one there." She was back to her playful teasing now, and you found yourself slightly wishing that she'd flirt like this more.

What about Isaac? Were you a bad person? Why was Sam making you feel like this? Your head was starting to spin aggressively, the alcohol taking it's toll on your slight, 15 year old self. Sam grabbed your arm, rushing to hold back your hair as you crawled over to a bush, puking all over it. You felt too sick to be embarrassed.

Most of what you remember was her putting you in a taxi and slipping her phone number in your pocket. The next morning, you made sure to find the little note and stick it to your wall, staring longingly at the message written on it.

"Let's be friends - Sammy K"

You also broke up with Isaac.

April, 2014 - Perth / New York City

Y/N Y/L/N: haha sorry, is this the right Sam?? :D

Samantha Kerr: no way, yeah! how r u

Y/N Y/L/N: good! i'm so sorry i never messaged u after that party :( my mum never let me get a phone

↳ i wanted facebook to find u

Samantha Kerr: heheh no worries, what time is it for u rn?

Y/N Y/L/N: it's 9pm LOL aren't u here??

Samantha Kerr: nopeee :p i'm in new york

↳ i play soccer here! well for a bit cos i have to go back and forth

Y/N Y/L/N: no way, that's so sick... i'm jelly. stuck studying rn

Samantha Kerr: u haven't changed

Y/N Y/L/N: didn't u call me "teacher's pet" >:)

↳ med is super fun tho... come see me for sport injuries

Samantha Kerr: ...

Samantha Kerr: how's Isaac?

Y/N Y/L/N: omg Isaac haha, long gone... not my type

Samantha Kerr: ur type... not dickheads i'm guessing?

Y/N Y/L/N: *men

Samantha Kerr: LOL hahahaha same

↳ welcome to the better side

Y/N Y/L/N: ^_^

↳ how's things for u???

Samantha Kerr: heh yea good, the team here is super sick. NY is cool, lots of weird stuff... and christmas is so cold. my gf from here tho so she always makes fun of my accent :DDD

Y/N Y/L/N: ohh cool srry didn't know u had a gf... met thru soccer??

Samantha Kerr: yeh, we play for the same team. she's awesome

↳ someone @ home for u?

Y/N Y/L/N: haha no :/ someone but i don't think it'll work out

Samantha Kerr: aw that sucks,,, don't give up tho

↳ we should hang when i'm back next!

Y/N Y/L/N: that would be cool. i'd like that!

December, 2016 - Perth, Australia

She was always on your mind, but could she say the same of you? You and Sam had gotten so much closer over the years, texting 24/7 when either of you had the chance. She was returning back for Christmas and you were on your way to pick her up from the airport, helping to surprise to her family.

You hadn't been able to date properly since that conversation with Sam on the curb. Nobody else made your heart skip a beat like she did, and you found yourself yearning to feel her touch once again, even if it was brief. You didn't care. You comforted her when she went through her first serious break up, and she would stay on call for hours while you broke down about the pressures of med school. It felt like there was something pulling the two of you together, and god, you hoped she felt it too.

Standing at the International Arrivals gate was nerve-racking. Every flurry of passengers sent your nerves flying, eyes anxiously darting from person to person as you picked at your nails in anticipation. You were so nervous, you almost missed her.

She was finally here.

Her short hair was tied back, and the dark rings under her eyes proved how drained she was from the flight. She lugged a large, black suitcase with her, looking around until her eyes met yours.

You both rushed forward. She engulfed you in a warm hug that felt like... home?

No words were shared as you stood there in each other's embrace.

The car ride to Sam's house was comfortably silent, but you couldn't help but notice how Sam's hand had come to rest on your leg as you drove. It felt like it was on fire, but she didn't acknowledge it, sunglasses over her eyes as she looked tiredly out her window.

You were probably just reading into things, Sam admitted once that she's a really touchy person. You didn't want to lead yourself on.

Sam's family had invited you inside for the celebrations, surrounding you with all sorts of questions about schooling and your life. In a quiet moment, it was just you and her mother alone on the couch. Her siblings and dad were outside chatting at the barbecue, with the two of you remaining inside to escape the heat.

"She loves you, you know," her mother said matter-of-factly, "you love her too."

"Excuse me? I swear I-"

"Oh, don't be silly." She replied, leaning to hold your hand.

"That girl looks at you like you hung the stars. I get so many calls of Y/N this... Y/N that... She's besotted."

"I- I don't know what to say," you said, holding back the tears that threatened to spill, "was it that obvious?"

"Oh, no no. Don't worry. Us mother's have a way with things. Don't think yours doesn't see it too."

You laughed, raising your head to meet your eye. She released your hands, patting you on the knee as she walked off at the same time Sam conveniently entered. Nice one, Roxy.

"God... do you remember that birthday party I had?" She laughed, coming to sit next to you. She stretched her arms over the top of the couch, her fingertips only inches from where you were currently resting.

"How could I forget? Hey guys, this is Y/N that doesn't play footy - isn't that how you introduced me?"

She just laughed at your mock offence, small apologies leaving her mouth as she reminisced.

"I mean, it wasn't a lie."

"Oh fuck off, Kerr." You shoved her lightly, watching as her hand came to her chest to feign offence. You both fell quiet, meeting each other's eyes in a once again comfortable silence.

"Why me?"

Sam looked taken aback, her eyes down as she searched for an answer.

"Why not you?" She said, looking up. You could tell the mood had shifted as her eyes met yours, a hint of vulnerability across her face.

"I think... I think I always knew it was you."

"Sam-"

"No," she spoke softly, her hand coming to hold yours, "Just let me finish?"

You nodded.

"I can't really explain it, but there's just this pull. It feels like I can't stay away, you know? We always found a way back to each other, even after all these years. It's just- It's just always you"

The tears that were threatening to spill finally did as you pulled her close. You could taste the salty tears that left both your eyes as your lips met hers, a soft kiss that felt like it lasted a lifetime. Her hands came to hold the sides of your face, deepening the kiss until you were gasping for breath. Reluctantly, you pulled away and rested your forehead against hers.

"I think I love you, Y/N."

"I think I love you too, Sam."

July 14th, 2020 - London to Perth

"Have you got your comfy shoes, babe?"

A small "fuck!" echoed from your shared bedroom as your girlfriend scrambled to fish her shoes out from whatever pile she had thrown them in. Standing by the door, you watched as she stumbled forward and pulled her socks on, almost knocking over several pot plants as she did so. At 3am in the morning, she was not exactly a vision of grace and elegance.

The two of you had bounced around countries as Sam switched clubs, settling in the UK as she signed a contact with Chelsea. Your medical degree allowed a job almost anywhere and so you quickly found work at a nearby children's hospital, much to Sam's delight.

At the moment though, you were saying goodbye to your London apartment as you jetted back to your hometown. As far as you knew, there was no specific reason to be returning home, with Sam citing homesickness. You thought it suspicious as she was there only two months ago, but never bothered questioning it. You both missed Australia and eventually planned on moving back, but for now you were happy living a busy life in the UK.

Sam always had a thing about planes, as you came to learn. She was ok when they were completely in the air, always able to distract herself with some form of tv or movie (or sleeping pills), but you could tell by the way her knee was bouncing that this time would be no different.

"Hey, it's alright", you said, palm reaching across to settle her, "we'll be ok, these things are freaky safe now."

"I know. Logically I know it's fine but I just... I can't help it"

You only sighed, kissing her cheek and taking her hand in yours. The safety video played on the screens in front of you as you pulled her head to your shoulder, stroking her hair. Her body relaxed into yours as her breathing steadied, and you could feel her racing heart start finally slowing down.

She was drowsy from the early wake up and easily fell into a peaceful slumber. You prayed for no turbulence, admiring the few freckles and lines that were littered across her perfect face. She needed the rest, having been so anxious about this trip and her upcoming tournaments that the stress had almost permanently darkened under her eyes.

With her hand in yours, you soon followed her in sleep.

July 17th, 2020 - Perth, Australia

"I need to shake off the jetlag, wanna go for a walk?"

You turned suddenly as she called from the bathroom, walking out and drying her hair.

"Mum said they redid the park up the road, good field for soccer... We can practice some more if you'd like?" She asked, almost nervously. You had requested Sam start teaching you more about the game; a role she took very seriously. She was showing you all the tricks she'd learnt, even trying her hardest not to laugh when you fell flat on your ass several times in a row.

The two of you set off just before golden hour, navigating the streets of Fremantle to the park. Sam's hand was in yours the whole time, the other holding the soccer ball close to her hip - she was being so protective other the goddamn thing.

"I'll stand here, we'll just go back and forth until you get your confidence up."

She was taking several steps back away from you, positioning the ball at her feet before kicking it towards you.

"You know this is the one you gave me, right?"

You kicked it back, reciprocating.

"God, you're such a sap... Love you for it, though." She only laughed, winking as she did so. Even after 4 years, she still made you blush like you were 15.

The both of you continued, going though the motions until Sam decided to give it a forceful kick, landing it far behind you.

"Hey! What was that for?"

"Sorry, love. Rules of the game; she who missed must go fetch."

"That's not even- Oh, whatever"

You ran off as Sam followed behind you - why was she moving from her spot? That's when you noticed it.

"Hey dummy, this isn't even the ball I gave you - I used black maker on mine." You jokingly shouted back, picking it up to hold it by your side. "Got some fangirl groupies to replace me, huh? Can't believe you thought I used red marker."

She stood a few metres away from you, a small smirk on her face.

"Why don't you read it then, genius?"

You looked down, confused. What was she playing at?

Marry me?

It was written neatly in red marker, a giant heart below it - just like the one you first gifted Sam at her party all those years ago. You looked up, only to be met with the sight of Sam on one knee in front of you, a small blue box in her hands.

"Well?"

She had tears in her eyes, but her smirk remained.

You were still speechless, the red words echoing in your brain. She wanted you to marry her. She wanted you to be her wife. You sank to your knees to be level with her, gently grabbing her face to pull her in for a kiss.

You could feel her smiling against your lips, sliding the ring on your finger wordlessly as your mouth met hers.

[imtryingbuck]

Two

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: Y/n L/n becomes Queen of Astoria not that she wanted to. Prince James of Winterfeld meets her and falls in love.

Word count: 1,893

Warnings: angst. fluff. mentions of being barren. mentions of hunting.

Masterlist   Series Masterlist

Sitting in the chair that her father had been sitting in only two months prior with a crown sitting upon her head that she was surprised her neck had not yet broke with the weight of the thing, she tried not to wince at the pinching of the corset.

She had been crowned as the rightful heir to the throne and was now Queen. The whole hall erupted into cheers and chants, “Long live the Queen” and “The warrior Queen” hit her ears as she sat with her back straight. The knights all bent their knee to her - Carlson in front of them all, smiling up at her as he pledged his allegiance to her. She saw the scowl coming from Sir Jon as he nursed his ale, she smiled at him just to piss him off a little extra.

The celebration was loud with music and chatter from those in the hall, the smell in the air was intoxicating with food and ale - a lot of that was going to the floor as the guests danced. Everyone including her mother, sisters and Carlson were laughing and dancing, celebrating their new Queen. 

But Y/n, she just couldn’t find it in herself to join in the festivities she just wanted to be left alone or preferably in the woods training with Carlson and some of the other men, or better yet she wished that she was far away from the kingdom as she could possibly get. Looking around slowly making sure no eyes were on her as they were to busy dancing and having conversations amongst themselves, she stood and walked out of the side door. She found herself out in the private courtyard that only her family were allowed to be in, she took the crown off releasing a content and relieved sigh. The cold air soothed the ache of her chest as she looked up to the darkened sky smiling as the stars twinkled.

“Should have known you were going to try and run away. Ah, see you do not startle easily anymore.”

“I could smell you before I heard your boring voice.” She replied still staring up at the stars. “And do you see me running? The answer is no.”

“Listen here, you should have respect for your elders-“ he barked as he moved closer to her.

“I am not the same thirteen year old who was terrified of you, matter of fact I am more scared of a butterfly than I am of you.”

“You should not even be queen!”

Turning to face the man she had known all her life, the man who taught her how to play chess, the same man who would sneak some extra cake slices onto her plate when her parents weren’t watching. “Why shouldn’t I? I am the first born, my father never had a son, so why should I not be queen?”

“You are rotten. You are a barren bitch, what use are you if you cannot have an heir? You are best to work in the whore house-“

“Along with your mistress? I would rather not hear how dull you are at sex, thank you.”

“Y-you have no idea what you are talking about!”

“No? Red head, big tits, pretty face? A stark contrast from your wife, I must say.���

“Rotten you are-“

“So you have already said.”

“Barren bitch whose only deeming qualities lay on the battle field.”

“Again, you already called me that and also a battle field you have not seen in so many years, too busy hiding behind my father. And may I remind you of who you are talking to? I am the Queen, do not like that fact? Go and jump off the cliff, I will be sure to keep your wife and mistress safe and looked after.”

“You-you- wh-“

“You are embarrassing yourself now. You keep forgetting your station and I will end up removing more than your tongue. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes… my Queen.”

“Very good. Run along and leave me in peace.”

“What happened to you? The little girl I knew was nice, sweet and had a heart of gold. Where did that little girl go?” Jon asked her with his hand on the door knob.

“She died the moment you dragged her off that boat. Goodnight Jon.”

Hearing the door slam close she gulped a large breath of air, trying her hardest to keep her heart rate down. She wasn’t scared of him but she did know how dangerous he could be, she had seen it with her own two eyes. When Y/n was younger she use to sit upon a tree stump with her knees pulled up to her chest and watched in fascination as Jon trained the other warriors, she watched in awe of how fast he was though he had years added on to those he was training. And although Jon was friendly and sweet to her she had seen him do things that gave her nightmares or would be afraid to go near him for a few days after. The Jon that stood in front of her just then, calling her those names, wasn’t the same man she had grown up with.

She didn’t know why he was so against something that she didn’t even ask for, he should have taken it out on her father and not her.

“Jon said I could find you here, old man is too busy drowning his sorrows in the corner- hey what is wrong?”

“Nothing. Go back and enjoy your night. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You are freezing, come back inside Y/n/n.”

“Would you marry Anna?” She asked changing the subject.

“No. She’s a pretty girl but I do not view her in that way, why?”

“What about my other sisters?”

“No Y/n, what is going on?”

“If you married my sister I could abdicate from the throne and hand it over to you two, and then the kingdom would have a King and a Queen that would have heirs and I could leave and I-I could be happy, I could be free.”

Carlson stood there frozen listening to his friends words, he had half a mind to go back into the hall and attack Jon knowing for sure that he had said something to her for her to be thinking of such things. “You will find a husband of your choosing, hopefully it would be a marriage of love and have your own child-“

“I cannot have them and you know that.”

“You do not know that though. Your father told you that when you was a child Y/n, he was wrong about many of things - he is wrong about this too.”

“I will find a suitable prince for one of the girls-“

“Y/n-“

“I do not want this life Carlson, I never have. And I am not ashamed to admit that I am scared.”

Wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into him, he whispered. “I know. I know you do not want this but I believe in you, I know you will be the best Queen anyone will ever know. I am sorry but this is your life, and please know I will be right by your side every step of the way. I will not allow you to fail or to fall, this I swear to you.”

For the first time since she was sixteen years of age when she was made to take part of the annual hunt and forced by her father to take the life of an innocent deer, she cried. Gripping tightly of Carlson’s shirt she let everything go, the loss of her life, the loss of her fathers life, her stepmother life ending so soon, the unfairness of the life she had to live when she did not want it. She cried and cried until there was nothing left for her to give.

“Queen Y/n.” Her personal servant bowed as the young girl entered her chambers.

“Larissa, how are you?”

“I-I am very well my queen, how are you?”

“Good, have you eaten today?”

“I have not but-“

“Come sit with me, and enjoy some food. I fear the cooks have given me more than enough.” She sees the hesitation in the young girl’s movements, Y/n pushes a chair out and pats on the seat giving her an encouraging smile.

“Th-thank you my Grace.”

“Do not need to thank me, eat as much as you can”

Larissa was not use to this. She thought at first that she was to be the tester to make sure no one had tried to poison the queen, finding herself frowning when Y/n digs into the food before she does. Larissa had always admired Y/n growing up, always finding herself smiling then she would hear the Princess laughing, when she would have the duty to collect herbs from the woods she would see Y/n fighting against men who were bigger in height and weight to her and would always silently cheer on the Princess and finding herself chuckling to herself when she would win against her opponents. Never in her life did she think she would be handpicked to serve her queen directly, and now here she was eating a breakfast fit for royalty, answering questions that Y/n asked, mind and heart racing as her queen actually paid attention to her words.

The bubble burst for the two of them when a knock came from the door, Larissa goes to stand up but Y/n’s hand came into contact with her arm, “it’s okay. Come in.”

“My Queen.”

“Mother, how are you? Would you like to join me and Larissa to eat? There’s plenty to go around.”

“I have already eaten, but thank you.”

“Your loss. What is it?”

“I need to speak to you, privately, please.” Larissa nods and stands, bowing to the two women she leaves quickly.

“What is wrong?”

Y/n watched as her mother take the seat that Larissa had been occupying, her fingers tugging at the flow of her dress - something she tended to do when she was nervous. A habit she herself had taken up. “Please, please do not be mad.”

“What has happened?”

“Y/n, you need a husband and you know it. You need an heir and that is just how it is, you need to marry in order to have them.”

“Mother, you know-“

“Your father was being a foolish angry man, he did not mean it.”

“But what is he was? What if I am barren and I cannot give my husband what is required of me? I do not, no, I know I cannot go through what you went through. I will not do it, it is not fair on me, the man or the other woman. Please mother, please just drop this. I will figure something out.”

There was a deafening silence that followed her words, mother and daughter just staring at each other waiting for someone to speak. Y/n truly wished she had just bid farewell and left her own chambers to go and train with Carlson even though she knew she had other obligations to attend.

Her mother smiled sadly at her and whispered the words that Y/n had been dreading to hear ever since she was a child.

“I have found you a husband.”

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Tags: @sapphirebarnes | @sebastians-love | @sidraaaaaaaaa | @mrsnikstan | @barnesxstan | @hi172826 | @alexdarkacademia | @supraveng

[accio-victuuri]

their ordinary life. 🏠

i am referencing this post which was allegedly shared in 2021. i like how it’s written and the cpn clues inserted, then making a whole story out of it. a reason why most of us love lrg and other rumor anecdotes is because it’s simple and shows what their day to day life is like. tho they are celebrities with extraordinarily busy lives, the thought of them just being zz and bobo is comforting and sweet. it may be confusing cause there are parts where they are both referenced as they. and then it will switch to “i” as if in the person’s first person pov.

all of this is fake & fanfiction…

they should have a cat and a dog. everyone knows the cat's name is Tao, the dog’s name also matches the cat very well, it’s called Lizi. it’s a puppy ZZ bought it on impulse, but in the end I had to give it to my mother in Chongqing to deal with the aftermath. they have a home in Beijing, with a room full of helmets and musical instruments. there is also a room equipped with a projector, with warm and artistic decoration. when the two people are tired, they can lie here and watch movies together. there is also a big LCD TV, two people playing games to decide the outcome and doing housework.

the kitchen should be well-equipped, but the storage of materials is not alot, both of them are busy and have little time to cook, but there should be someone that makes trouble while the other person is cooking, and the other person will teach. when that person was making hand cakes, he had a headache several times and wanted to curse.

the room they sleep in, well, the bedding must be of high quality, it must be very comfortable and considerate for two people who both have the habit of sleeping naked. someone should install a night light in the toilet so that people who are afraid of the dark can get up in the middle of the night. there will be lights as soon as the toilet is near. there should be a lot of things on the bedside, eye drops, stomach-protecting tablets, Ryukakusan, cough cough... In short, both of them takes good care of your body! there will be a light fragrance in the room. they are all people who love cleanliness, maybe it’s also due to the scented candles.

there is a huge closet, which could have been used as a styling area in the beginning. one will often buy several pieces at a time and wrap them up. the other will also complain that one person loves shopping so much that he is not frugal and knows how to organize his clothes regularly. it was painful to pick out an old model to wear, and taught another person: "See, this is okay. As for clothes, save money and don’t buy so much. You still have a mortgage. ” another smiled and didn’t say anything. clothes that smell like them over time are familiar and reassuring, as if they are by each other’s side. In this way, they give each other company. Sometimes the trip is too urgent and I don’t pay much attention. both people will pack the wrong clothes into their suitcases. there should also be a small gym, where two actors and teachers can work hard. One person is envious of another's eight-pack abs, and the other possesses someone's waist (don't ask me why I know it's possible because I am a barbell. )

both of them have been doing more and more endorsements, and they have a lot of products at home. when the two brothers are in a good mood, they take one out and play with it, jokingly calling it "opening a blind box." most of the time, they kept sending them to my family, and the family group was noisy.

the two of them still can't stay at home most of the time and are always on the road. yes, headphones are a common item. why? because they are used for making phone calls and watching videos and to chat online. I took out my mobile phone to complain after getting off work. i quickly called to tell him that I miss you. people’s true emotions finally have a safe and secure place. how good is this, just wanting someone who can always listen to me in my life. you act coquettishly. you can complain and cry.

i also surfed the Internet, but I just browsed casually, after all, it was all the same rainbow fart, I want to take some time to listen to that person blowing it to me. sometimes it’s annoying to see fans quarreling. i used my account number to tell them to stop arguing, but it didn’t work. just switch to my other account and fight bravely with heizi ( antis ) and lose. until the account was suspended and blocked, then I took screenshots and felt aggrieved. he said, "Baby, look at me, I've lost another number by helping you.". The other person was amused, and he was no longer troubled by the remarks.

the other side is also keen on surfing and secretly saves a lot of emoticons, all of which are like pigs. regarding this, after I sent it, I laughed so hard that I hit the table and couldn’t stop having fun. hey, of course you can hear the voice of someone screaming on the phone: "Why does it have to be a pig?" "I'm a leopard! Not a pig! You What a stinky rabbit!”

they will take care of eating, taking medicine, drinking water, and taking care of each other when they are sick. they will take good care of each other and care for each other. if you are disobedient, it will be known immediately, and you will be punished, and then you will obey because I want to live a long with the other person. if possible, I hope it will be the same in my next life.

he will also get jealous, lose his temper and act awkward. Alas, as an actor, he is still in the entertainment industry. what can I do? Buy gifts, buy food, make phone calls. if you want to talk, send WeChat, and send some updates and stuck points that fans can’t understand.

In the end, I still couldn't coax him, so I could only study how to fight authentically and run to see the other party. the time is very short, and you may only be able to stay in the car, room, or corner. i left after an hour or two, my temper was gone, and I kept looking at the other person. laugh, give a hug, hold hands for a walk, kiss, and talk for a long time. if it's been a long time, your eyes will inevitably turn red when you separate.

“Every time it’s so short, it’s hard to be separated, and I won’t be able to come next time.

“But I miss you.

"...I know, I'll come see you next time."

knowing that there will be an event for two people on the same stage will make them excited for a long time, and they will fall in love at public expense. love, doesn’t it feel good?

no matter what, they won’t understand the meaning of it anyway. meet backstage, eat a meal together, take ugly photos of each other while doing makeup, and fight. let’s sit together and look at our phones and chat about the current situation. the two people at the back looked right at each other when Fang doesn't speak, the staff will consciously go out and leave them alone.

think hard. I miss you even when I walk. I miss you when I sit. kiss the necklace that you bought for me, look at the blue sky and white clouds, draw a picture, then take the archeology test, and look at the other party’s dark history, snap screenshots and make emoticons and throw them over. it’s the happiness that only artists can have when they fall in love, don’t you understand~

regarding the public, the feeling of being watched by millions of people cheering and blessing that summer it’s really good. surrounded by love from all over the world, you will feel that there is nothing better than our happy couple. maybe, one day, wait for the rainbow to come. On that day, I am Lao Wang and he was Lao Xiao. We walked in front of everyone. before, he drew a story about us, told by me since I was 21 years old.

[lamoobsessions]

Fortune for the Fools

Hazel Callahan x FemReader

Synopsis: After an underwhelming proverb from an underwhelming fortune teller at the county fair, you have an unexpected run-in with Hazel. When time passes and feelings prosper, you finally begin to believe that maybe that fortune was right after all.

A/N: Enjoy this prologue to a fic i'm working on, while I slowly hoist myself out of this writing slump. Each chapter will have a lyric from a song by a queer artist, so I hope you enjoy :)

Prologue: "My heart's out. My guard's down." - Body and Mind, Girl in Red

────────────

To you, everything about the ‘End of Summer Carnival’ was enchanting. The pop-up canopies glowing in the night like lamps. The game booths sounding obnoxious buzzers as the kids played them for cheap toys. The tall, flashing lights welcoming onlookers to their sketchy rides, which, to your dislike, capriciously shook as they sat in the dirt -They weren’t safe, anyone with half of a mind knew that, but anyone with a sliver of fun would ride them anyway. Even the smell of the event was kind of charming. Sure, there’s the frequent whiffs of vomit and B.O., but usually those smells drown in the overwhelming scent of funnel cake and sugar. All in all, there was a lot to love about the carnival. 

Like every year, you attend with Sylvie, whom you’ve known since… forever you think. You and her clicked. Maybe it was your reserved demeanor and her gregarious attitude that made things so easy. Many people found it shocking when they found out how close the two of you are, simply because you’re polar opposites. Either way, the two of you made quite the pair. 

However, at the moment you stand alone among the carnival’s rapture.

All is well though, you have a routine for this sort of thing. You start out with the games, then the rides, then get food, and finish the night off with a ride on the Ferris wheel. It’s a perfect system you discovered a couple of years ago, and it hasn’t failed you yet. The only downfall of this plan is that Sylvie isn’t big on the carnival games, so you’re often left on your own for the first half. Which, you don’t mind, it’s less competition for the prizes anyway. 

That’s how you’ve found yourself here, standing in front of an old vintage fortune-teller named ‘ZOLTAR.’

To your understanding, this is the first year the local carnival has had a fortune teller machine. The thing doesn’t even ask for one of your tickets, it only asks for a dollar. So, thinking it must be fate, you decide to try out your luck.

Inserting the money into the slot, a suspiciously long moment passes, a moment long enough for you to begin to think the thing must be broken, and you dollar just went to a waste. Yet, just as you were about to shake some life into the machine, a whimsical harp plays from the speaker, “Cheer up my friend, and listen to the proverb from Zoltar.”

The sudden, and unreasonably loud, audio makes you flinch.

“From small beginnings come great things.” The machine suggests. “Ah yes, and lucky for you the great Zoltar sees much happiness for you in the future. Go out and find it, but don’t run off too quickly, Zoltar has more to say for you.” 

A shuttering emanates from the ticket dispenser, as it pushes out a small yellow ticket. Pulling it from the slot you read the back of the card. 

It's all the same mumbo jumbo you'd expect from a fortune. 'Things are going to change soon… blah, blah, blah… Be brave in your choices… yadda, yadda, yadda.'

You huff a laugh looking down at the card. “great…” you mutter.

It’s truly is the same fortune-teller crap most people get, but you can’t help but to hope it’s true. What’s the harm in hoping, right?

However, after a few carnival games, this hope started to feel like bullshit. Firstly, your favorite game that’s here every year is gone, then you lose half your tickets gambling them away on some guessing game, then, at the time your supposed to meet Sylvie by the Ferris wheel, she’s a no show.  

‘Great happiness in your future, my ass’ you thought. 

At least you had enough cash left in your pocket to buy back the tickets you lost. But first, there was a fried Oreo stand practically calling your name with it's infectiously sweet aroma. 

Deciding to ditch Sylvie's meeting spot, you make your way to the concession stand and join the endless line.

Minutes pass and you’re finally close to the front, with the delicious smells of chocolate and sugar getting stronger and stronger with each step. Although, another minute passes, then another, then another, and the line has yet to move. Peering to the front, you see a girl fumbling in her wallet, a look of panic evident of her face. 

Even from a short distance, you’re sure you know who it is. Though, curious to see what’s going on, you listen in closer. 

“Ma’am you can’t pay with tickets, we only accept cash.” The woman behind the counter argues. 

“I know, I know, I’m so sorry. It’s just that I promised some friends-”

“If you don’t have any cash, I’m going to have to ask you to leave the line.”

Looking into your wallet for extra cash, you notice you only have cash for your own fried Oreo and some more tickets. If you were to buy more from the concession stand, you'd have to give up on the possibility of buying extra tickets later.

But, being that it's the last night of the summer and your 'lucky fortune' can't seem to come true, you at least have the chance to bring happiness to someone else's future.

“Excuse me!” 

Both the woman behind the counter and Hazel turn to you. 

“I have extra cash if you…” you suggest. 

“Oh no, it’s…” Hazel dismisses, “You don’t have to do that.”

“It’s no problem, really. What were you going to get?” You ask, taking the money from your wallet, while making your way to the counter. 

Hazel stares at you, dumbfounded, seemingly unsure if she should accept the offer.

“She was getting two churros and a stick of cotton candy.” The cashier speaks up.

You nod and count the cash before handing it to her. “Can you add a fried Oreo to that order?”

The woman bobs her head while counting the cash and shoves it into the register. “We’ll have that right out for you.”

“Thanks,” You smile and make your way to the pick-up bar for the food. Hazel follows you hesitantly, presumably taken back by the interaction. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” she comments.

“Yeah, but I wanted to.”

As embarrassing as it may be to admit, there was always this fondness with her, an insatiable desire to be her friend. But, making friends wasn’t always your strong suit. You mostly kept to yourself, sat in the back of the class with your nose in a book. Sylvie’s told you countless times how unapproachable you look, but you never got around to fixing that detail. 

Hazel wears a confused expression, as if she couldn't quite piece together something in her head. 

“I’m y/n, by the way.” You begin, figuring she's probably trying to pin a name to your face. “Hazel, right?”

“Um- yeah. You know my name?”

“Yeah I mean, we’ve been going to the same school since like freshman year. Of course I know who you are.”

Truthfully, it wasn’t normal to know random people’s names in your school. It’s a big school, filled with a lot of people. Many students graduate not knowing half of their class. But, you knew Hazel’s name because, like anyone you find interesting, you learned it.

“Oh yeah, right.” She laughs awkwardly. “I knew your name too, by the way.”

You smile, letting out an amused huff at her insistence before looking to the Ferris wheel, where Sylvie has yet to show up. You'd be worried if it weren't Sylvie being her usual self. She either got caught in some atrociously long line, or is currently talking some poor souls head off somewhere. 

“I-um,” Hazel begins. “I don’t think I ever thanked you for the food, so… thanks.”

“Yeah, of course. Don't mention it." You chirp. 

“No really, I owe you one. Usually they accept tickets at these things, but I guess they don’t do that anymore.”

“Yeah, they stopped doing that last year after some kid, like, figured out how to forge the concession tickets or something.”

Suddenly, her expression turns into one of clarity. “I was wondering why they didn’t offer concession tickets this year.” She pauses, then lowering her voice to a near whisper. “How did they find out about the fakes though?”

“Wait- was that you?” 

Suddenly, she lights up, as if she'd been waiting her whole life for someone to ask. “Yeah, I just bought some customizable raffle tickets online and printed all the same stuff on them. It was pretty easy, considering most tickets, like the one for the rides, have special codes on them so they can’t be replicated, but not the concession ones. There wasn’t anything fancy like that on them.” 

After seconds of staring in complete bafflement, you can’t help but to laugh. She was the last person you’d expect to pull such thing off, but maybe that’s because you didn’t know her as much as you wish you did.  “That’s honestly genius. I mean,  it’s a shame you got caught.”

“I don’t even know how they found out! I was super inconspicuous about it.”

At this, you only laugh harder. It wasn’t even that funny of a situation but for some reason, maybe because it was her, you felt lighter. 

“Two churros, a cotton candy, and a fried Oreo!” The woman calls from the counter. 

The two of you turn your attention towards the tray of food under the pick-up window. Hazel grabs her share of food, though not before handing you your portion. 

“Well,” you begin, while unwrapping the treat in your hands. “Maybe next time you can learn to forge actual money.”

“That would be so cool,” She beams, evidently not catching your sarcasm. 

“Cool, but also a federal crime.”

“It’s only a crime if you get caught.”

“Thats a terrible philosophy.” you remark. Glancing at the ferris wheel, Sylvie had finally showed. She waited patiently under beaming lights. “Oh, I gotta go. I’ll see you at school, I guess?”

Something flashes in hazel’s demeanor, something you couldn't quite identify before it was gone and replaced by a smile “Yeah -uh, I’ll see you then.” She waves. “Thanks again.”

“no problem,” you wave off, before taking off towards Sylvie, who quickly spots you walking over, and begins to wave frantically, as if you couldn’t already see her under the blinding light. 

“Y/n!” She calls, “You’ll never guess what I saw!” 

You smile, rolling your eyes playfully. “It better be the reason you were a whole thirty minutes late to meeting me.”

“Uh-huh,” She answers quickly. “I saw someone get hit by a car.”

A pit of shock and concern fills you. “Oh my god are they okay? Are- Are you okay? How the hell did-”

“No it’s fine, it was just Jeff.”

Immediately that pit of shock dissolves, and your mind begins to wonder how the whole town hasn’t already erupted into a riot simply because it was Jeff.  “Okay, so…is he okay?”

“Well, you know, of course he’s taking it way too far and acting like the car hit him at ninety miles per hour, when in reality it was probably one, but yeah, he’s fine.” 

That part was believable. For football players who are the size of grown men, they were about as fragile as a china doll. But, the fact that you hadn’t heard about it the moment it happened… that part was a little hard to grasp. “So, you’re telling me, the Jeff -Jeff the star player of the Rockbridge football team, got hit by a car and the town hasn’t turned to pitchforks and torches yet?”

“Yes!” She exclaims excitingly. “I mean, the whole team is devastated, but the people are handling it pretty good if you ask me.”

You huff, taking a bite into your food. “Well, I guess that’s a good enough excuse for you being late.”

“I’m sorry,” She exaggerates, dragging out the apology. “To make it up to you, I’ll let you choose the first ride we go on together.”

“Oh, how generous,” You tease. “But I blew all my tickets on the carnie games.”

“You serious? Why don’t you just buy more?”

“All the cash I brought was spent on food.”

She gives you a curious look, likely surprised that you, for once, came to something unprepared. For some reason you have yet to uncover, a part of you didn’t feel like telling Sylvie about the run-in with Hazel. 

“Well, lucky for you, I stole some of my stepdad’s money for tonight. So we can just buy more.”

you laugh, “I don’t think I feel comfortable using stolen step-dad money."

“Then don’t think of it like that. Think of it like I’m your super rich sugar momma, and I’m treating you to a night out.” She shoves a wad of tickets into your hands forcefully. 

“Right,” you deadpan, accepting the tickets. ”Step-dad’s money it is.”

“Great,” She cheers, playfully putting an arm around your shoulder.  

The rest of the night was spent using all of Sylvie's remaining tickets for eating overtly sweet foods, riding unnecessarily fast rides, and throwing up in grotesque smelling trash cans. Or in other words, the night was spent perfectly. You and Sylvie stuck around til closing and ended the night sleeping over at your place, which is always the go-to spot for the both of you since Sylvie absolutely despises her stepdad. Come to think of it, you’ve probably only been to her house once, way back when her parents were still together. These days, it’s your house and your house only. You never minded the company.

But, as the early morning came and the first day of school had arrived, you began to regret this decision.

Body aching, stomach wrenching, and head sagging like a block of cement, all the decisions of last night finally caught up to you. You felt like shit, and you weren’t the only one. Next to you, Sylvie groaned, dragging her hands down her face as she sat up from the air mattress on the floor. 

“I think I’m dying,” She complains.

You hum in agreement, pulling yourself from under the covers and throwing your legs off the bedside. “Do we have to go? It’s our last year, it doesn't really matter if we skip anymore, right?"

“I mean… I’d be down to skip if you are. We can rot in bed and watch movies all day and pretend it’s still summer and that school never started.” 

Staring at her with a stoic expression, you hop off the bed and begin to make your way towards the closet. “You’re supposed to convince me to go, not enable me.”

She shrugs, putting her hands up in surrender. “I never said I was a good influence. You decided that on your own.”

You huff, pulling off random pieces of clothing from the drawers and off the hook. “Yeah, well,” You sigh, throwing the clothes on the bed. “I’m going to need all the influence I can get to leave this house before eight. And by influence, I mean caffeine and ibuprofen.”

“Oh!” She exclaims shooting up from the bed. “I’ll get the ibuprofen.”

“Please don’t grab the wrong thing like you did last time.”

A wide grin plasters on her face. “You mean the laxative incident? That was hilarious.”

“No, no it wasn’t.” The last time Sylvie was in charge of grabbing ibuprofen was the night of the Junior and Senior prom. You developed a monster headache from all the cologne clouding the gymnasium air, and when Sylvie somehow came back with laxatives instead of a pain reliever, you were too absorbed in the pain to notice any difference. “I had to leave prom early because all the fucking bathrooms were full with orgies and stoners.” 

“Yeah, that was awesome,” She giggles. 

“Just please grab the right stuff this time.” 

“Yeah, yeah. I can handle it.” And with that, she walks out the room and towards the kitchen where the pharmaceuticals are stored. This time, hopefully, she will come back with the right medicine. You dind't want this sudden luck of yours to continue any longer.  

[kneelingshadowsalome]

This daughter talk has been fun, but can we talk abt if Konig had a son instead?? I can see the two being treated very differently.

(I think I remember you talking about in a post months ago how Konig would probably put his son into some sort of fighting class from a young age.)

He would probably have play fights with him, too, that get a bit aggressive, and if he had more than one son, he'd make them fight each other. He probably has the poor boy doing push-ups before bed at like 7 years old. Buys him nerfs guns so he can "start to practice early."

He doesn't care as much when his son gets a girlfriend, too. Just a pat on the back🙄.

König with a son… Oh man.

CW: ANGST :)

I mean he adores him when he’s small and can do nothing but wriggle around and look up at him in awe. König is a lowly servant to his daughter(s) but this little guy? He fills him with raw, pure pain. He vaguely recognizes it as some form of love, attachment, furious need to protect… But when the boy starts to walk and talk and run around and do shitty little things, he has to get more stern.

His son smiles a lot with his mother, helps her to bake cakes and pastries, hangs the laundry to dry on his command and then goes out to play for the rest of the day. He’s at the age where kids bully frogs and ants, and it sends a sting through his heart, but what is he to do? Boys will be boys.

He grows height, grows and grows and grows, there arrives a challenge in his eyes. Some trouble with school, the first crush, bone-crushing punches that hit a wall at the far end of the house. More and more resentment in the stare, he’s like a young stag trying to look for a fight and topple his old man.

His ire grows along with the kid's spine: he hasn't deserved the hate, he has done nothing wrong to this kid. If that little wuss only knew what he had to go through in his age...

There could be more laughter in this house, more loving kindness, yes. But at least he doesn’t hit him. At least his son doesn’t have to watch how a grown man abuses mommy. Quite the opposite: his son hates it when he’s kind to his wife, and he’s no better. They’re both jealous of her, of warmth, tenderness and love, and König tries, he really tries to be more understanding and forgiving. His worst nightmare is to become his father, an abusive prick who uses kids and women to feel better of himself.

But he never learned how to be a good dad… He didn’t learn how to be a ‘dad’ at all.

His tries to build a bridge to his son only makes the kid more reckless, and his wife never sees fault in the youngster, she only tells him to be more tender. More soft.

He laughs humourlessly. If he becomes softer than this, the kid will become a total loser and a wimp…

...Wait, what?

Fuck…

[its-time-to-write]

Hey!!! I hope you are doing well and with all life’s downs you have more ups!!! You’re a fantastic writer and love your voice! If you are willing/interested in could you write something involving the reader watching videos of little Jamie (like when things Georgie would have recorded of him at youth matches or school plays or just Jamie being a cheeky little bugger) and either it’s happening back at Manchester or a little career throwback video thing because he won something big or it’s like his 100th match at Richmond and the reader is helping put together this video to play for Jamie

Hey! Yeah I am doing well, just mega busy bc of holidays and everyone needing therapy and whatevs. Hope you’re well as well🩵🩵

play it back

“So he was always a little shit, huh?” you comment. You’re sitting on Georgie’s couch as you help her convert videos from old cameras to her computer.

“Oh yes,” she laughs. “But such a cute little bugger. Had the whole neighborhood wrapped around his finger.”

You click through videos, landing on one of him sitting on the grass. He’s not quite one, but he’s sitting up and clapping his pudgy hands.

“Oh my god, I can’t with that face,” you groan. “He’s too cute. I just want to squeeze him.”

“There’s a video of his first birthday party on here somewhere,” Georgie says, and you scramble to find it. You open a video of baby Jamie with his face covered in blue frosting. His hands are covered in chunks of cake, and he’s waving them around while laughing.

“The neighbors brought that cake over,” Georgie comments with a smile. “Jaim was being such a ham, making them laugh. He knew what he was doing, even then.”

You smile and continue forward. Baby Jamie in the tub, baby Jamie sleeping in his crib. Then toddler Jamie on Christmas.

“Show me what you’ve got,” comes Georgie’s voice from behind the camera.

Jamie’s tiny voice says, “It’s a fucking FOOTBALLLLL!” as he holds it over his head.

“Language, Jamie!” says Georgie, but you can tell she’s smiling. Jamie stands up and places the football on the ground.

Georgie says, “No, Jamie, don’t kick it in the-” and the camera tumbles to the ground. She swears, “Christ,” and it goes black.

“Classic,” you say.

Georgie chuckles a bit ruefully. “That was the beginning for him. Found it in a bargain bin and thought it’d get some of his fucking energy out. Think it just gave him more of a boost.”

The next is shaky footage of Jamie, aged six, as he runs on a pitch with other kids his age.

“Go, Jamieee!” Georgie screams. He barely looks at her as he kicks it into the goal, leagues ahead of the other team. He turns to his mum and gives her a thumbs up, followed by a swift two fingers up to the other team.

“Jamie, no!” Georgie shouts, and he switches back to a thumbs up and a shrug as if to say, I don’t know what you’re talking about. The video ends as the ref (someone’s father), pulls out a yellow card while trying to suppress laughter.

“Didn’t know you could get yellow cards at that age,” you grin.

“Well, you know Jamie; he played every part of that game,” Georgie replies.

“What are you on about?” Jamie asks, coming through the door. “Mum, you got the videos out?”

“She’s helping me put them on my new computer,” Georgie says. “Right helpful, she is. And tell me, what have you done today?”

Jamie blushes a bit. “Kicked the ball around the pitch. Soundly trounced some kids talking shit. Oh, and Simon and I went to get groceries.”

You raise an eyebrow. “And where are the groceries, Jamie?”

Jamie says, “Oh shit,” and rushes back outside to help Simon.

You roll your eyes affectionately and press play on the next video.

This one is another match, and Jamie’s older, maybe ten? It’s shot through the window of the council estate as he walks up, presumably from school. He’s dragging his feet but he’s got something in his hand.

“This was me birthday,” Georgie whispers.

“Whatcha got, Jaim?” Georgie asks as he swings the door open.

He smiles and launches himself into her arms, and for a moment, the camera is pointed at the ground. It gets righted and pointed at his smiling, dimpled face as he shoves a bundle of slightly wilted flowers into focus.

“Happy Birthday, Mummy!” he smiles. They’ve obviously been plucked on his walk back home from school.

“Thank you, baby,” she replies and again, you don’t need to see her to know she’s smiling. Georgie sweeps him into her arms as the video shuts off.

Georgie sniffs. “His dad had been round the day before. I had a fucking shiner to put the moon to shame that’s for sure, but my baby boy always knew how to get me smiling again.”

You lean your head against hers and she motions for you to keep on to the next video.

You click through a couple until you find one of him on the pitch again. It’s a couple years later and he’s a teenager, maybe thirteen, and he’s completely skipped the gangly phase you always thought was mandatory to growing up.

“He were twelve there,” Georgie says. “Got scouted in that very match.”

“Started me whole career,” Jamie interjects as he comes into the kitchen with an armful of bags. Simon’s right behind him, arms full as well.

You raise your eyebrows in surprise, but it’s not that shocking. You can tell he’s good, even at age twelve.

Jamie deposits the bags and wiggles into the non-existent space between you and Georgie.

“I was dead cute, weren’t I?” he asks.

“You were,” you agree. “Not sure what’s happened in recent years.”

Jamie protests with an, “Oi!” as you and Georgie dissolve into giggles. Simon (wisely) decides to stay out of it and busy himself with putting the food away.

“I’m putting these on the cloud so I can have that at home,” you tell Jamie, and he worms his way closer next to you.

“Mint. You gonna start a Jamie-table like mum, too?”

“Fuck no,” you reply. “You’re head’s fucking big enough as-is.”

“You like my big head,” he says, and you smack him.

“Not in front of your mum!” you shriek as he tickles your sides. Georgie gets up off the couch to go kiss Simon while Jamie continues to terrorize you, kissing all over your face as you make half-hearted attempts to push him off. He was cute back then, but your favorite version of Jamie is definitely the one you get to hold in your arms right now.

[steddieas-shegoes]

“We should probably just do vanilla cake, right?”

“Our daughter is not boring. She should have confetti cake.”

“Vanilla isn’t boring!”

“It’s literally called being vanilla when someone doesn’t like a little fun in the bedroom, Steve.”

“First of all, don’t call me that. Second of all, she’s turning one. She’s not gonna care. She’s never had most of this stuff.”

“So her first adventure with it should be fun!”

Steve and Eddie had been arguing about Ella’s first birthday for a month now. It was starting to become an issue as it was two weeks away and they’d planned nothing except for the guest list.

Even Robin was starting to get worried they wouldn’t be able to pull it off.

“What if we let her pick?”

“She’s one.”

“Yeah, and? We give her two options on pieces of paper and she picks one.”

“That’s a terrible idea.”

“Why?”

“Because what if she picks princess plates but dinosaur decorations?”

“Why can’t she have both?”

Steve glared at him.

“I’m just saying, she’s one. This party is more for us than her, and she won’t remember it.”

“But there’ll be pictures.”

“And when we all look back at them, she’ll be happy that we let her have whatever made her little one year old brain happy.”

Steve sighed, which meant Eddie was winning. This was the first time he’d had the upper hand the whole time.

“Where can we get a confetti cake?”

“You know Lena? Owns the bakery by the tattoo place?”

“The one who gave you the notebook of all the queer friendly spots in town?”

Eddie snaps his fingers and points at Steve.

“That’s her! She already offered to make one.”

“And you told her yes already, didn’t you?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny such allegations.”

Steve rolled his eyes and turned to continue writing things on his checklist that had nothing checked off.

“We also should check with Joyce about using the cabin. I know we said renting the bar out in the morning would be good, but imagine a first birthday in a bar.”

“It’s metal as hell, Stevie.”

“It’s questionable parenting, Eds.”

And here they were at another problem.

————————————

“So you’ve accomplished nothing?”

“We got a cake!”

Eddie was sitting on the couch supervising Ella’s play time while Steve and Robin were “planning” her party in the kitchen.

Eddie had been banished from all party endeavors after he brought home a baby-sized electric guitar and drum set and said it was for her to play at the party.

Robin took over and, admittedly, they’d accomplished a lot more already.

But this was their first official meeting and Robin was shocked to find out that they had next to nothing with only one week until the party.

“You stop talking!” Robin yelled back at him.

So he focused on entertaining Ella.

“Baby girl, I don’t know about you, but this party planning business is not what it’s cracked up to be. Maybe we should just give you your presents here and call it a day, hm?”

“Dada! Pay!”

“Yes, baby, I’m playin’.”

He helped her build a castle with her alphabet blocks, smiling when she pointed to the D and said “D. Dada!”

She was so fucking smart, it was scary.

When she got bored with the blocks, she started tapping on her plastic keyboard, hitting the same two notes again and again.

Eddie showed her the D key.

“This is D, Ella. See this one? You push this and it makes a D note. D like Dada!”

Ella pushed the key and then clapped.

“D! D!”

“Yeah, D!”

She kept smacking the D key, and Eddie kept smiling at her.

Someone cleared their throat behind him and he turned to see Steve smiling down at them, hands on his hips.

“Oh. Ella, show Daddy what you learned.”

“D! Dada! Daddy!” She said as she banged the D key.

Steve sat down next to Eddie and put his hand on his knee, squeezing it once before running his thumb back and forth over the hole in his jeans.

“You showed her that?”

“I’m gonna make her into a baby Mozart,” he said as he nodded. “She’s a natural.”

“Okay, love.”

“How’d the planning go?”

“Robin’s handling it.”

“All of it?”

Steve sighed.

“She said I’m being unreasonable.”

“But when I say it, I’m being rude and not giving you a chance.”

“When she says it, I know it’s true. When you say it, I know it’s because you’re not getting your way.”

“Do you hear this Ella? Slander from your father. I remember when it was just you and me, playing some tunes…”

“Oh my god,” Steve said around a laugh.

“Sometimes three’s a crowd, huh Ella?”

“Dada song!”

“Here, I play, you help.”

Eddie sat Ella in his lap and moved the keyboard in front of them, holding her tiny hands in his to guide them through Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.

Steve clapped at the end of it, beaming at them both as if they’d just performed at Madison Square Garden.

“Incredible. I’d offer you a record deal on the spot.”

“Already had that, I’m retired. Thank you, though.”

Eddie kissed the top of Ella’s head as she kept banging on the keys, then leaned over to kiss Steve’s forehead.

————————————

Robin pulled off a hell of a party.

Not only did she manage to find princess rock star decorations, but she managed to find a live band that was willing to play kids songs, and a caterer who was willing to serve an entirely new menu so last minute.

There was even an open bar for the adults.

Eddie’s entire band and their families were there, the Hawkins crew and their families, Steve’s coworkers and their families, and most surprising of all, Steve’s mom.

He’d gone back and forth on whether to even invite her, but since she’d left his dad, she’d been trying to reconcile and get to know him again.

She brought a Barbie dream house because she didn’t seem to understand that one year olds weren’t quite at Barbie level, but it was the thought that counted or so Eddie kept reminding Steve when he got mad about “thoughtless gifts that just take up space.”

Ella loved playing with all the kids and sharing her new toys. Eddie and Steve had built her a play set at home that she didn’t even see yet.

She was spoiled, but it was the best kind.

Not the kind that Steve had growing up; useless and thoughtless gifts that were flashy and expensive because that’s what helped his parents feel better about leaving him with nannies or alone.

The kind where love was in abundance, where everyone wanted her to have the best because they loved her, where the best was sometimes the dollar store magic wand and tiara set so she could play princess and sometimes was a toddler sized drum set. Everyone came to her party because they were excited she was part of the family, not because they expected a big blowout with the finest food and drinks money can buy.

Eddie took a moment to look around at everyone. He never knew he’d end up here, he couldn’t have even dreamed it in his wildest ones that came from being cross faded in high school.

Steve wrapped his arms around him from behind, kissing his shoulder when he started to lean back.

“Turned out great, right?”

“It did, sweetheart. Always does with you.”

[fanfiction101]

I'm so happy that you write for jareth <3

Can I request head canons for being his "queen"? What would marriage with him be like and what would Jareth behave like? Fem reader , they met and married after Sarah left him;

💐anon

Oh my goshhh yesss.

Some Jareth Head Cannons~ Marriage Edition

So I feel like we should start how you guys met after Sarah left in the universe of this Tumblr post. So after Sarah left, Jareth was kind of depressed, like he wouldn't leave the castle or anything. A couple years ago by and he just tried to convince himself that he should just accept that he wasn't going to fall in love again. So for the first time in years he goes outside to touch some grass. He has these wonderful gardens that were maintained by humans that had grown from the babies he had taken away over the years. As he walked through these gardens he heard two humans talking. From a far he saw a man and a young woman. The man looked quite older than the girl who looked to be about 19 years of age. Immediately he was struck by the girl's beauty. She wore a simple brown dress with belt that seemed to hold a small bag. Jareth goes towards towards the people and the old man immediately bows and says "Your Majesty." But the girl dared to make eye contact and if it were anyone else Jareth would take it as disrespectful but couldn't bring himself to be angry. The old man sort of coughed and said, "Please excuse her for not knowing about respect your Majesty. This is my daughter, Y/n." And from that point on, Y/n and Jareth just happened to meet in a rose garden with a bench "on accident." They would talk for a couple weeks in that garden until Jareth started inviting her to dinners and finally to a ball, where he proposed in that same garden. And of course Y/n said yes. -------------------

The wedding was definitely going to be extravagant and Jareth would want everything down to the details of the flower petals to be perfect for you. The goblins in the castle would be more busy than before with Jareth giving them never ending tasks related to the wedding whether that was to invite guests or to decorate the streets and castle or to get your outfits ready. He would ask for your input on everything from the flower arrangements to the cake designs to how the streets of the city were decorated. The whole event started in the afternoon on a warm day but the party lasted until 3 in the morning with drunk party guests in their rooms passed out or goblins and maybe some humans passed out in the streets. But the night of the wedding was truly something you wouldn't forget. --------------------

So from here on are just some things he would do as a husband

He would love to have a family if you wanted one. Like the man loves kids and I can see him being like the dad that teaches his kids their powers at a young age or throws massive birthday parties for his children.

So Jareth isn't going to call you hot or cute. I'm talking stunning, beautiful, lovely, immaculate, gorgeous, sexy, shit with syllables.

Pet names for you- my dear, darling, love, my queen, my world

He loves seeing you in charge and acting like a queen about anything. When y'all get married he support you in whatever as long as you aren't like setting the kingdom on fair or doing anything really stupid. Like if you want to be in charge of the Goblin army? Done. You want to building more buildings like schools or libraries for humans? Done. Anything? Done

I feel like this man loves to cuddle. Like just laying on a sofa by the fire. His head on your chest while you play with his hair as you guys talk about anything. Or it's the morning and he tries to get you to stay in bed for a little longer by wrapping his arms around you and refusing to let go.

He gets you flowers and gifts all the time even if there is no occasion for them.

Because Jareth is used to being alone so he tries to do things on his own and refuses to ask you for help and it takes him awhile to get used to the idea that it's okay to ask you for help with something.

So yeah I hope you enjoyed it. That's all I can think of rn but maybe I will come up with more in the future. As always feel free to give me requests!

[sugaimhome]

country house setting - kth - part one

pairing: 19th century taehyung x reader

minors do not interact!!!

warnings (this part): age gap (10 years, readers 18, he’s 28), masturbation (v brief), loads of smut in the next chapter hold ye horses, yandere (? he’s very obsessed with her and her innocence lol), hints towards previous abuse, distant father figure, the messed up society of 19th century britain, biscuits.

part summary: taehyung wasn't looking forward to the isolation of his fathers manor, when you knock his door, that isolation is shattered, he has a new obsession. When taehyung visits your father to introduce himself as his a new neighbor, he makes you an offer you just can not decline.

words: 4.4k

series summary: your isolated manor house has nothing interesting going on. but when the abandoned manor near to yours has a new occupant, things change. taehyung is obsessed with you from the day you first knock his door. he’d do anything for you, even if it meant going against your father’s wishes, even if it meant you losing something very important to your future marriage on the way, something that would force your fathers hand.

part one  part two  part three  masterlist 

explanation of the title: a literacy genre where fictional characters are often isolated and alone living in a country house.

A/N: i’ve been so excited to post this, then suddenly, min yoongi decides to post a picture with the same vibes... least to say I changed some names around to better suit next chapters 😫😫 he will be appearing more than once in this story. this hasn’t been proof read by anyone but me so sorry about that 😶‍🌫️ i love reader so much i just want to protect her 🥺 also the writing on the banner is jane austens writing, what a queen. I did try and copy the speaking of the time a little but I think I failed 😀

“A ball?” you ask, hope filling every inch of your heart, you’d never been to a ball, you were dying to go “Oh, father, we must go” It had been over two months since you’d properly left the house, and that had only been to the local market. You could only paint the garden so many times before going mad.

“We won’t be going to Min Yoongi’s ball” he replies, not looking up from the letter he’s holding. He sounds so resigned you wonder if he even heard you. 

“But father-” you begin, hoping to say your piece to him.

“No Y/N” his answer is blunt, you know it was final; there's no point arguing with him when he’s in one of these moods, it will only end with you getting hurt. 

“Okay”. This had been the third ball invitation this week and the third rejection from your father. You sigh. How were you ever to find a husband if you didn’t socialise? All the rich men would have found young brides now, and you, at the age of 18 would be seen as too old. The two of you stand in awkward silence for a while as he flips through his letters. 

“Someone is making residence in the manor beyond the brook.” he tells you, licking his finger to separate two pieces of paper from each other. 

“Really?” you ask. “I hope it’s a family, I would love a friend so close!”

“It’s a single man, according to the Park family, they are acquaintances with him in London.”

“London!?” you exclaim, you had been disappointed by the lack of friends the move in would bring but a new excitement had begun with the aspect of the man being from London. You had so many questions about the place. It was another world to you. “When does he move in?”

“You must not bombard him with your incessant questions.” he complains, wiggling a finger at you without looking up at you.

“I only wish to make him a cake, or maybe some biscuits” you admit, trying to lace honesty into your voice.

Your father sighs, putting down his papers and turning to you. “The 10th”

“But father, that is today!” you think he’s playing with you. “Don’t be mean”

“Read the letter if you do not believe your own father.”

The letter did in fact say the 10th. You’re almost jumping on your feet, but that would be impolite so instead you pull the letter, signed by the park jimin your father had always spoken about to your chest. “What great news” you say, trying to hide the excitement in your voice. “If you don’t mind, father, I will begin to make biscuits for him now”

“Do as you please” he replies, not really listening, still flicking through the pages in front of him. Curtsying you leave the room, the letter balled up in your fist. You make a bee-line for the kitchen, you’d get Annie to put the oven on straight away.

*** 

Taehyung had been hesitant to move back to the country. When his father had died 4 years ago he’d left his childhood home in his inheritance. Taehyung had decided that after so long it was time to return home after nearly 10 years in London. Home was a loose term. The manor had been miss kept, the garden overgrown, the surfaces dusty. Upon his early morning entrance to the house he had been ushered in by an elderly maid, Victoria was her name, he only vaguely remembered her. Apparently, he'd been paying her a monthly wage to maintain the place since his father had died. She hadn't been doing a too-great job. Though he was grateful that the house wasn't entirely empty when he arrived. Victoria had made him tea, lit his fire and explained to him that she was happy someone was living in the house again. She left, explaining she lived in the town across and had a family now. He granted her a smile as she went.

With the door locked shut and Victoria gone the only sound the house offered was the low snapping and crackling of the flames. It was so different to London, there was always something going on, someone coming to visit him, a servant cleaning or, even in the silent moments, the sound of the street at the end of his carriage-way. He missed it already. 

Yet the quiet of the house offered an odd privacy and an odd tranquility that he had missed. It dawned on him that he could do anything here and the only witness would be the flames of this fire and the wildflowers that had overtaken the garden. It gave him a sense of freedom.

Leaning back in his chair, cup of tea in one hand the other lying across his thigh. He relaxed in the blissful, slightly creepy, silence until the door knocked. He sighs. Maybe he wasn't as isolated as he thought. Nearly forgetting that no one is here to open the door for him as he had been so used to in London he quickly shoots from his chair. For a moment he struggled to open the front door, Victoria had locked him in it seemed. 

"Give me a moment!" he shouts, hoping his visitor hasn't already left.

He finds a key hanging from one of the plant pots. What an odd place. The door unlocks with relative ease and as he pulls it open he peeks his head around the door.

A teenager. He has opened the door to an unaccompanied female teenager who seems to have a box of biscuits. "Good Evening" she curtsies, the too small corset she's wearing almost over spilling her breasts. He gulps. "I live in the manor across the brook" she explains to him, he can hear the unease in her voice. The naivety and innocence. "I brought you biscuits."

She extends the box to him at arms length, squeezing her breasts together in the process. Was she doing this on purpose? "Thank you," he smiles, taking the box from her. "Would you like to come in?" When she nods he pulls the door open entirely, displaying the very dusty entryway. "Do excuse the disorder, as you can imagine it hasn't been well looked after" 

"I wouldn't have noticed if you hadn't said" she admits, purposely keeping her eyes away from the dust. He appreciates the small action. She scans the reception hall, obviously waiting for him to lead her through to a social area. "My name is Y/N" she tells him as he leads her into the living area. When he doesn’t immediately reply she asks, "Would it be impolite to ask yours?"

She's oddly quiet, he probably wouldn't have heard her voice if he were in the hustle of London "Taehyung" he replies. "My father used to own this manor. He died four years ago, would you have known him?" 

"I would have been 14 then, with little consideration of what was going on around me" Y/N replies. "I am sorry for your loss"

She was 18. Many questions filled his head. "Is your father a respectable man?" He asks her. "Is that whom you live with?"

"Oh, yes, as respectable as yours once was I should imagine" she replies, he turns to look at her, a little blush covers her cheeks.

"Then you would have been in London for the season this year" he asks, wondering if he had ever crossed paths with her.

"I have never been to London," she replies. "Though, I have heard it is exquisite."

An Eighteen year-old who has never seen London. "Then you must have an arranged marriage with a local man. I hope that is going well for you"

There is a pause between his statement and her reply. "My father does not have time to threat over my marital arrangements"

He is shocked, he had not heard of such a scandalous thing in his life. He feels sorry for her. Puzzled, he leads her into the living room where she gently sits down on a sofa he desperately hopes is not dusty. When no little particles rise to meet the sun he assumes he is safe. "I assume you'd like one of these biscuits" he asks her, turning around to place them on the small, delicately decorated table. When he turned around she'd moved, as quietly as a mouse, to the fireplace. Her dress was so close to the flames. Y/N's attention does not seem to be upon the fire though but more towards the painting placed above him. 

"This is not an appropriate place for such a lovely painting." she turns to him. Instinctively he walks up beside her, looking at the painting. "The heat will ruin the watercolour" 

There's a pout on her lips, this was obviously something she was very passionate about. "This is Thomas Girtin" she comments, reaching out and ghosting the frame of the painting with her fingers, above her finger is the signature of this Thomas Girtin. "It is a rare and expensive piece."

Taehyung is no longer staring at the painting but rather at her. He was surprised at her confidence to come into a strangers house and advise them on both the placement of their paintings and the stupidly of it. He smirks. "I'll have it moved at soon as possible, Miss Y/N. I am sure it will look a lot nicer in your premises"

"No, sir" she exclaims, stepping back from the painting and turning to look at him. "That is not what my intentions were when telling you about this piece."

"Perhaps it will persuade you to bring me more of those biscuits," Taehyung replies. He thought of his moment on the chair earlier, when he had the small epiphany of the freedom this house would bring him, how he could get away with anything. He places a hand on the small of her back and leads her back towards the front door. Grabbing two biscuits on his way past and passing one to her. With the hand on her back, she seems to have silenced a bit. "It's nearly dark, I would like to walk you back across the brook." 

"You do too much, Sir. I grew up here. I know quite well my way across the brook" Y/N defends. Taehyung is adamant as he places his boots on, and his overcoat. 

"So did I. I insist" he replies. "I left only 10 years ago, at your age. I'm sure I will find my way back quite safely." She doesn't reply, just stands in front of him with her arms crossed. "If you'd had a season in London you'd know well this is what a true gentleman is supposed to do." 

She blushes at the mention of a season in London. It only gives Taehyung an inflated feeling of power. It is clear that this young woman had no idea how to navigate herself around men, or perhaps other humans. She was as isolated as he was when he had lived in this place. He felt an unwelcome feeling of wanting to show her everything.

*** 

Taehyung had, clearly, known his way around the grounds of both his and your land. As he left you at the bottom of the steps to your mansion, offering you a little smile and a wave as you climbed the steps, he had mentioned something about the biscuits running out soon, his maid had family and once he had shared with them, he'd need more in at least two days' time. You reached the top, turning to see if he'd moved away, he had not. He bows and you curtsy before you slip into the warmth of your home.

As soon as you close the door you place your back against it, as if to block him out. That was not what you had imagined him to look like, you had expected a man in his early forties, perhaps a similar age to your father. You had not expected a young man, a man who's waistcoat fit snugly around his figure, a man who had beautiful fluffy hair. With eyes as dark as the chocolate you so rarely had. Your heart had been beating too fast the whole time you were there, that's what happened to all the women in the books you read when they loved someone, but surely that was over dramatic? Too soon? You wished you had someone to ask but it was just you and your father here now and you doubted he had the answer to this. 

The real problem did not lie in your beating heart, nor in the new strange emotion you felt but rather in the fact that when he had asked you if you'd bring more biscuits, you'd said you could bring some the very next day. And after all of that, you hadn't asked him a single question about London. Sighing, you make sure your door is locked before heading up to your chamber. The rest of the house is dead quiet, you can’t bring yourself to care anyways. You didn’t particularly want to see your father. You'd get up early in the morning and make more biscuits.

***

When Taehyung woke up the next morning he realised two things.

that it would be rude of him to not go introduce himself to Y/N's father, they were neighbors now after all.

that he had some very interesting dreams last night and the majority of them involved Y/N. He had woken up with a very prominent erection. He would need to see her again and soon.

He sat up in bed, having disregarded the bedclothes last night. He was alone, it wasn't like there was a risk of being indecent, plus he'd needed to touch himself. Taehyung could see his reflection in the mirror opposite the bed. Whilst looking at himself he wonders if she'd be able to handle the size of him. He places his hand around his dick, dragging it up and down in a loose grip- pretending his hand is Y/N. He assumes she is a virgin - only tightening his grip with this thought. He tries to imagine how she'd sound, but that's something he won't be able to tell until the moment comes, he would make that moment happen, he'd do anything to insure it. What would he have to do, and to what extent, to make Y/N his? The movement of his hand along his dick is almost painful now. Balls tightening more and more with every thrust his hips make into his hand. He cums, shooting white liquid up his stomach. It runs through the valley of his abdominal muscles like a river between two mountains. He would never look at Y/N the same again. In less than an hour he would be introducing himself to her father with the traces of his cum on his stomach the thought of it oddly turned him on. Instead, he headed for the bathroom where he would wash it off. There were times for such things and they weren't for when he was introducing himself to an elder.

***  

An hour after you'd baked the biscuits you were standing in your chamber, paintbrush between your teeth, painting a figure into one of your old landscape photos of the house across the brook. You hated to admit that the figure was Taehyung, but it only made sense, you hadn't stopped thinking of him.

You step back from the painting, wondering what it was that was missing exactly. There was Taehyung in his blue overcoat as he had been yesterday. It doesn’t seem enough. You can hardly tell it's him in the picture but if you had studied his figure, as you had plenty of times in the hour you had with him, you would know it was him.

There's a knocking at the door downstairs, it echoes around the whole mansion like the chiming of bells. Climbing over the pots and brushes you have thrown across your room, you hang your head from the open window. From this angle you can't see the front door but you can see the carriage drive. It's empty. Who would visit who didn't have a carriage?

Not caring much about your paint splattered dress you step from your room. Vaguely aware of the paint on your face, you choose to ignore it as you race down the stairs. At the door is your father, who is just opening it as you make it to the landing. However you're much more interested in what's behind the door. Your father obviously doesn't connect the dots as he sees the young man standing at the top of your steps. You, however, become much more worried about the current state of your appearance. "Good morning sir, I'm Kim Taehyung" 

Your father stares at him blankly as Taehyung offers his hand to shake. "The new gentleman across the brook?" He asks. Nodding Taehyung smiles at your father, perfectly white teeth on show. From where you're standing he can't seem to see you. You debate running back upstairs before your father lets him in. But you're too late, your father's shaking his hand and pulling him through the door at the same time. There's no hiding now. "My God Y/N!" your father exclaims at seeing you. "I told you not to wear such disgraceful garments out of your room! you'll have to excuse her" he turns to Taehyung, "she's not very well socialised."

You blush, Taehyung must notice you backing away. "It's really not a worry sir, I am already acquaintances with your daughter, she brought me biscuits yesterday evening, I suppose under your instructions"

If your father was to take credit for your ideas, you would have cried, instead your father explodes "I did not advise such an act! I apologise for her rogue mannerisms." You knew he had not been listening to you yesterday. As the pair walk past the bottom of the stairs, therefore past you, Taehyung rolls his eyes and then winks at you. 

"I very much enjoyed the biscuits" he announces, it's a response to your father, but he's looking at you as he says it. Tickling erupts on the inside of your stomach. You place a hand on it, having never felt this feeling before. Taehyung watches your hand as it lands on your abdomen. You don't understand why but he's smirking as he follows your father into the study. It dawns upon you that you do not have a great understanding of the outside world nor the feelings that Taehyung has brung with it. The two men disappear behind the study door, and you run over to place your ear to the key-hole.

“Does she paint?” he asks your father, why this isn’t a question he can just ask you is unbeknownst to you.

“I believe so” your father mumbles, the topic of his daughter seems to put him in a foul mood.

“You believe so?” Taehyung sounds upset, as if the response he had received wasn’t enough.

“There becomes a stage in a man's life when he stops caring about the women around him. He stops caring about silly things like paintings. You understand me don’t you.”

“I don’t believe I do, sir,” Taehyung replies. There's a harshness to his voice you had yet to have heard. You bring a hand up to cover the huff of surprise your mouth admits. If you were to talk back to your father like that you’d be slapped and denied food for a day. When your father doesn’t reply Taehyung continues. “I would like to view her paintings if you would permit it.”

“Of course,” Your father replies, annoyed. Then he asks Taehyung a question using so many business words you give up trying to listen to their conversation and focus more, or panic more, on the fact Taehyung was coming to view your paintings. There seems to be no other option than to sprint up the stairs and at least try to tidy it up a little. 

You’re in the middle of stuffing an old awful painting under your bed when the door knocks. “Give me a moment father and I’ll be out!” you shout, trying to be oblivious after eavesdropping.

“It’s Taehyung,” he replies. “May I come in”

You pause before answering. You could probably tell him to go away and he would. “Oh! Come in!” You’re up from under your bed now. Currently the main painting on display was the one with him in, you figured that he wouldn’t have looked in a mirror long enough to tell that it was his figure anyway. It was still slightly embarrassing. The door knob twisted and he filled the doorway with his figure.

“This is your chamber and workroom?!” was the first thing he asked, you blush, embarrassed both with the fact he was in the only place you stood naked each night, and that he was judging your way of life.

“It’s not ideal.” you reply, deciding to go for the truth. “I tried painting in the parlor but father was not best pleased.”

He nods his head but doesn’t reply to you, beginning to walk around your room of paintings. Wildflowers. Your father at his desk. A deer in snow. The view of the fields beyond from your window. You're shaking. Stopping at the painting you were most dreading, he tilts his head.

“Are they...” he pauses and his lip curves to the side, “kissing?”

"Um" you begin. "Is it off?" no longer caring that it's him and more concerned with your painting. "Her neck is at the wrong angle isn't it!" you exclaim, you're next to him now contemplating the painting together, as you had done with the portrait over his fireplace. This had been one of your very first paintings of people, you’d read from a men's guide to kissing that you had brought from one of the second hand stores in the town. It was the best you could do, you’d never seen two people kiss before. 

Taehyung moves on from that painting to the next, your most recent painting, the one with him in it. You daren’t look at him to see his reaction, instead you wipe a little paint off the bottom of the frame, hoping to distract him from, well, himself.

“I like this one” he smiles, “though I think it's missing something”

You’re too scared to reply to him so instead you just nod your head. It’s funny how he thought the same as you. “You capture the house really well, and the blue of my coat.”

Hands shaking you go to apologise to him. It wasn’t fair of you to paint him without his permission, but he’s moving back to the kissing scene again. Following behind him like a shadow you both end up staring at the painting. You’re aware of him looking at you from the corner of his eye. Your breath catches in your throat. Down the stairs you can hear your father moving about in his study. The rest of the house seems to be in an anxious science, holding its breath, as if it expects something to happen. Do you expect something to happen? He fully turns to you, his focus no longer on the painting, placing one of his hands on your shoulder. Your body freezes, though warmth spreads down your arm and into your body where his hand touches your dress. “Taehyung?” you're aware that your voice sounds so quiet in the greatness of the room. 

He pushes your shoulder slightly so you’re facing him. The whole room blurs and it's only him that you can see. He's like an angel sent from God, his bright light blinds you. “I could show you, Y/N”

Show you what? There's so much in this world that you want to see, want to experience. “Show me what?” you ask him, your brain is too innocent, too behind to pick up on what Taehyung really means. 

“How to kiss, then after that” he pauses, looking at his small figure in the picture behind you. “I could show you anything” lessening the grip he has on your shoulders. You feel no pressure in your answer, you could say no, he’s so close to you. 

“I’d like that” you reply, your mouth staying slightly agape at the eagerness in your tone, you hadn’t realised you were so keen. Smiling, Taehyung brings his thumb up to his mouth, he runs it between his lips, as if to wet them with his spit, then he’s bringing it to your face. This wasn’t how you imagined a kiss to be and, instinctively, step back. 

“Don’t worry Y/N, this isn’t a kiss, I am wiping paint off your cheek” his thumb makes contact with your skin and a blush rushes up to your cheeks. Why were you so responsive to his touch? “I won’t kiss you today”

Your lip sticks out in immediate disappointment, “I want you to think on it more” he admits. “You only get one first kiss.” 

“How long do I have to think about it?” you ask, you were hit by the insufferable feeling of being so naïve, so behind where you should be in the experience of your life, that it was embarrassing. You’re sure a kiss will solve this. You’re sure Taehyung will solve this.

“Tomorrow” he has removed his thumb from your cheek now, but his other hand is caressing your face. He runs slow circles between your eye and your hair and, nature guiding you, you lean into his touch further. This, you realise, is what intimacy was. You had once read the definition in a dictionary

close familiarity or friendship.

When you had first read it, you had realised that you had never had any intimacy with anyone. It was as foreign to you as flying was to a dog, or walking was to a baby. Your eyes are wide in shock, your legs only just holding your weight up. Taehyung is smiling at you softly when he removes his hand. Your body is as attached to this area of your floor as a tree to soil. “I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow” he steps over a paint brush and pot, you want to stop him but your tongue has been stolen from you. He’s at your door now, pulling it shut behind him. He’s hidden behind the near closed door when he softly says “I’ll show you everything, Y/N”

Then he’s gone. 

You hear the front door shut. 

Without his biscuits. 

thank you for reading!