#got his new card earlier today too !!! love the design

[jonbinary-archive]

hiiiii being gay on main. year three bday calls were so cute ... finally got a call from my husband :} heart heart heart !!!

[amorest-viesse]

[Your Precious Hand] - Rustica SSR Card Story Translation

Ft. Arthur and Akira

Spoiler Warning: This story happens after Chapter 6 in the related event and references the conversation between Rustica, Chloe, and Fran. It's recommended that you read the event first before the card!

Treasure Chest of Memories - Chapter 1

[Magic Manor Hallway]

As night was settling in after our return from Stargaze City, I hesitated in front of Rustica’s door, debating on whether I should knock.

Akira: (Today was certainly filled with surprises. There was the situation with Fran, the truth behind the Star Dance Festival, and of course…)

Akira: (It still feels like Chloe and Rustica are treading around each other, but is it really my place to say anything?)

Arthur: Master Sage. Did you have business with Rustica?

Akira: Oh, Arthur. I suppose that’s one word for it… In truth, I was worried about him, that’s all. Are you here for the same reason?

Arthur: Of course. I consider him a friend, so there’s no way I could sit still and simply let things be.

Arthur: Later, I’m planning to check up on Chloe as well. Would you like to join me?

Akira: I’d love to!

Akira: ...But first things first, we should see how Rustica is doing.

Akira: Rusti—

[Gust of Wind]

Akira: Whoa! Did you hear that loud crash too?

Arthur: I did. Rustica? Are you alright? My apologies, but I’m going to open this door now.

[Gust of Wind]

[Rustica’s Room]

Akira: What in the world!?

Arthur: It’s like there’s a storm in here…!

Rustica: …

In the eye of the storm was Rustica, dressed in his nightwear. Unlike us, he didn’t seem to notice the chaos swirling around him.

Cups filled with tea, cookies, and even assorted pieces of clothing danced wildly through the air as he stared off into space, lost in thought.

Arthur: Rustica! What is happening here!?

Rustica: Is that you, Prince Arthur? Oh my, and the Master Sage as well.

Rustica: Ah, where are my manners? I was in the middle of blow-drying my hair and nearly forgot.

Akira: (He must’ve been thinking about what happened earlier with Chloe…)

Rustica: Chloe seemed awfully busy with his new clothing designs, so I thought I’d ask the wind spirits to lend me a hand instead.

Rustica: I was envisioning a more gentle touch the way Chloe does it, but it appears they got a little too fired up.

With the elegance of a conductor, Rustica waved his hand, calming the gale into a light breeze. The items that had been thrown around the room began to bob leisurely in the air.

Arthur: Ah, I see now. Well, that certainly explains the situation. However, it might be a bit difficult to have a conversation like this. Shall I help you tidy up?

Rustica: Why, how considerate of you. Please, be my guest.

Arthur: It’s no problem at all. <<Pernoctant Nix Zo>>

Rustica: The night is still long, so I’m glad that the two of you stopped by. Would you care for a cup of tea?

Akira: I would love that, thank you. However, before we get to that… Could I ask you something, Rustica?

Rustica: Please, go ahead.

Akira: Did you have something on your mind earlier…?

Akira: I was just thinking that it might help to tell us your thoughts…

Rustica: Master Sage…

Treasure Chest of Memories - Chapter 2

Rustica closed his eyes, as if hesitating for a second.

However, when he opened them again, there wasn’t a flicker of doubt in his gaze.

Rustica: I should’ve known that you would notice, Master Sage. In truth, I was trying to come up with a surprise for Chloe.

Rustica: However, I haven’t settled on anything yet. Might I ask the two of you for help?

Akira: We’d be happy to!

Rustica: Wonderful. In that case, what I have so far is to create a “treasure chest of memories.”

Akira: What do you mean by that?

Rustica: It’s essentially a treasure chest to memorialize all the time I’ve spent  with Chloe.

Rustica: My memories have a habit of coming and going, drifting and flowing like foam on the sea…

Although Rustica was smiling, his eyes were cast downwards. The long strokes of his eyelashes cast faint shadows upon his cheeks.

Rustica: However, I couldn’t stop thinking during the conversation between Chloe and Fran.

Rustica: Perhaps, Chloe is not the type to simply watch the foam dissipate like me…

Rustica: Rather, he stores things within a treasure chest so that they’ll stay safe, so that he can care for them and revisit them again and again.

Arthur: …You’re probably right about that. Chloe’s eyes always shine whenever he’s talking about his memories with you.

Rustica: Indeed. That’s why, I’d like to try this once again. Even if I cannot lock my memories away within a bird cage, perhaps I can create a treasure chest for them just like him.

Rustica: If we could look back on our time together whenever we’d like…

Suddenly, Rustica cut himself off and leveled his gaze at us. Within his serene eyes, I felt as if I could see the reflection of wavy red hair.

Rustica: I wonder how my dear disciple and precious friend shall react?

Akira: (There’s only one answer I think…)

Akira: I’m sure he’d be absolutely delighted.

Arthur: I agree with that. …It’d mean a lot to be considered a treasure by someone you love.

Arthur: Just imagining how it’ll go makes me feel like I’m soaring higher and higher into the sky.

Rustica: I’m glad the two of you approve. Now I’m looking forward to it more than ever. We must get started immediately.

Rustica: However, I haven’t exactly figured out how to make said treasure chest yet.

Arthur: So that’s where you’re stuck… In that case, why don’t you try creating a diary? Personally, I like to write down the things I don’t want to forget.

Akira: That’s just like what I do with the Sage’s Book. It’s nice to be able to revisit things.

Rustica: A diary…

Rustica: What a splendid idea. Perhaps I ought to try it again.

Arthur: Have you kept a diary before?

Treasure Chest of Memories - Chapter 3

Rustica: I’ve once attempted to write a biography of myself…

Rustica: However, as I was trying to figure out how to word things, the passages inadvertently became a song, and in the end, the page remained blank. 

Akira: Hmm… Maybe writing things down isn’t the solution then.

Arthur: You might be right… Have you thought of using objects to encase memories, Rustica?

Rustica: Another wonderful idea. It’d be quite fun searching for the perfect item to hold our time together. I could spend forever deciding on what to pick.

Arthur: Haha, maybe we should narrow down the choices a bit more…

Rustica: I’d like to express my most heartfelt gratitude to you two. I’ll do my utmost to treasure this memory as well, but first off, shall we try the autobiography method?

Rustica: I happen to be quite fond of the notebook that I used for my first autobiographical attempt. I spotted it in a store window on the way home from an opera and fell in love with it instantly.

With a nostalgic smile on his face, Rustica began to sing a beautiful tune.

Rustica: The opera was a lovely little comedy about a fairies’ banquet. I last saw it about a hundred years ago, but it still makes me laugh to this day.

Arthur & Akira: A hundred years ago!?

Akira: Wait, are you telling me you still remember a song from that long ago…?

Akira: If so, then maybe this is the answer that you’re looking for!

Arthur: That’s it! Perhaps the key lies in looking towards your past and finding songs that the two of you share.

Arthur: When it comes to music, the possibilities are endless. We might not know how effective it’ll be in the long run, but it’s surely worth a try.

Rustica: Oh, how will I ever thank you two.

Rustica: I can already feel the inspiration welling out of me; I can’t wait to give Chloe his song.

♡♥♡

[Stargaze City - Night of the Star Dance Festival]

Two days later, Rustica sang his gift to Chloe as the Silklettes twinkled above them like stars.

I stood to the side, watching over them. Noticing me, Rustica quietly made his way over.

[Footsteps]

Rustica: Master Sage.

Akira: Rustica… That was a beautiful song. I’m completely speechless.

Rustica: Why, it’s my honor to hear that. I must remember to express my gratitude to Prince Arthur later as well. But first, I’d like to thank you personally for all of your help.

Rustica: Chloe’s smile as I sang to him was as bright as sunlight dancing upon a lake’s surface. It was something I could only witness because of you.

As Rustica spoke, his entire being seemed to radiate joy. Caught up in his delight, I began to feel overwhelmed with happiness myself.

Akira: (Back home, we have several ways of capturing memories such as photos or videos.)

Akira: (But here, being able to keep and treasure the moments we share together is nothing less than a miracle.)

That’s why, I too, will save the smiles they’ve shown me in a treasure chest of my very own.

And someday, I hope to be able to look back and see them just as brightly as I did tonight.

Tanabata Spirit Rustica - Card Episode

[Manor Living Room - Night]

Akira: I made a lot of memories with everyone at the star festival we went to together.

Akira: It reminded me of Tanabata back home, so I had a lot of fun.

Rustica: Tanabata is the holiday that you once told me of before, yes? The one where everyone makes a wish on the stars.

Akira: You got it! The Western wizards had a lot of fun talking about what everyone would wish for, right?

Rustica: I believe so. Seeing everyone’s eyes sparkle during the conversation gave me an idea as well.

Rustica: Why don’t I play the part of a “Tanabata Spirit” for the day and grant everyone’s wishes?

Akira: I’m sure everyone would love that!

Rustica: Haha. In that case, why don’t I start with you?

Rustica: With the power of love and appreciation, I’ll make sure all of your wishes come true.

Akira: Are you really sure about this? Thank you! Let me see… I wish for…

Akira: …Well, as much as I appreciate your enthusiasm… I can’t actually think of anything I want…

Rustica: No need to worry, my dear Master Sage. This Tanabata Spirit won’t be going away any time soon.

Rustica: Just as the stars twinkle in the sky night after night, I am but one call away.

Rustica: Whenever you need me, I’ll be sure to swoop to your side.

Home Screen Voice Line

“A Sage’s wizard? Oh no, just for today I am Rustica, the Spirit of Tanabata. Whatever wish you might have, I shall grant it right away. …Who will grant my wishes, you ask? Fret not, for my only wish is the ability to make yours come true.”

[beelzebuddy-catan]

The Not Entirely Human-Human Exchange Student pt. 2

Summary: Cass manages to shock the student body at RAD when she makes her first pact with Mammon. She doesn't have time to think about it as she begins uncovering the dark secrets haunting the House of Lamentation. Warnings: Swearing, mentions of death, heavily implied sexual content Spoilers: Lesson two and Lilith's status Characters: Cass (OC), Lucifer, Mammon, Levi, Satan, Asmo, Beel, Lilith, Diavolo, Barbatos, Solomon, Luke, Simeon, Preta (OC), and Vassago (OC). Notes: (1) Lilith is absolutely a little shit (affectionate) who just likes pulling pranks and messing with people she loves. (2) I love the idea of MC finding Mammon's credit card without Lucifer's hint. Part One • Next Part

“Call me by my name,” she demanded.

“Fuck,” Mammon hissed, eyes wide. “Is this all ‘cause of the pact?! Listen to me hum-” he stopped, as if he physically couldn’t finish the word. “Hu-hum-FINE, Cass!” They stared at each other, Mammon catching his breath. Cass wondered how much energy it took to fight off whatever control the pact had over him. “Look, just because may be in control of my body doesn’t mean you own my mind.”

“I don’t want to own you,” Cass said, surprising him. “I literally only asked you to call me by my name. I’d expect even demons to have that level of decorum.”

He didn’t say anything at first, but his frustration seemed to fade. “Where is it?” Cass tilted her head in confusion. She already gave him his credit card, what else did he want. “The mark?” Silence. “You really don’t know anything about pacts do ya? When you make a pact, you have a mark to show it.”

His eyes fell to her hand, as if he already knew it would be there. She followed his gaze to her left hand. Oh. Wrapping around her pointer finger was an intricate golden design. It faded towards the top, the design tightening at the base. It almost looked like a ring, a sigil resting in the middle like a stone. Cass gasped, taken aback at how beautiful it was.

Cass glanced down at the map Lucifer had given her and back up at the hallway. At this point she’d be lucky if she found her classes, let alone found them on time. Apparently giving the new student a tour was too kind for demons.

Her morning hadn’t gone great. Besides having no idea where she was going and Mammon being missing, she’d been assigned to wake him up earlier. She’d ended up just poking him in the face, only to be thrown to the floor. Now, she was lost in a giant school, no idea where to go. She shoved the map in her bag, deciding to go in what she thought was the right direction and hope she got lucky enough to run into someone she knew.

“Hey, that’s the human everyone’s talking about.” She heard someone whisper but opted to stay still. “Can’t believe Mammon got assigned to watch over her.”

“Doncha think that’s pretty lucky for us? We can devour this human before even Beel does, and they won’t know it was us.”

The first demon snickered in response. Before she could take a step, they started to jeer and catcall. Cass swung her backpack over her other shoulder, walking up to the demons with a cheery smile. Their cocky demeanors only grew.

“If you so much as even try to touch me, I will rip off whatever appendage of yours I can find, be it your arm, leg, horn, tail, whatever, and shove it so far up your ass I can pull it back out your throat. Then, I’ll pour holy oil into any open orifice and light it on fire while you’re still alive. And, as you burn and the light leave your eyes, the last thing you’ll see is me enjoying a glass of ice water.” Cass blinked her eyes innocently, her smile never faltering. “Do you happen to know what the cafeteria serving today?” Her smile finally fell as she stared into the second demon’s eyes, not blinking as she finished. “I’m caving barbecue.”

Neither of them moved, shock rooting them in their place. A third demon, standing off to the side stifled a laugh. Their black horns and eyes stood out against their pale skin and white hair.  Whoever they talking to looked equal parts impressed and disinterested. Cass flashed them a smile before walking towards where she hoped her class was. She only took a few steps before someone fell into step next to her.

“Hey, you’re Cass, right?” She cast him a look but didn’t respond. He laughed before continuing. “You don’t have to be suspicious of me.  I’m Solomon, the other exchange student. When I heard Mammon was looking after you, I thought Lucifer was just messing with you. Now, I’m not so sure.”

Cass stopped and crossed her arms. Something felt too convenient about the only other human showing up next to her right when she needed help. “I can handle myself with demons. Mind telling me where 2122b is?”

“You’re asking for my help? But you’ve got the great Mammon!” Cass didn’t miss the sarcasm lacing his tone. “Why should I just give you that information?”

“Help another human out? You are human still, aren’t you?”

“Hmm,” he smiled. “There are times even I’m not so sure. After obtaining the ring of wisdom from someone in a very high position and forming 72 pacts,” he paused glancing at her, “I became a wicked sorcerer. Or, that’s what they say about me. I am fairly sure I am still human. I’m happy to prove it to you if needed.”

Cass twirled a piece of her hair and giggled, taking a wild guess he was the same Solomon written about in theology. “It’s no wonder you got 700 women to marry you, you’re so charming.” She rolled her eyes and walked away without giving him another glance. She was stopped again after a few steps by Lucifer. “Morning?”

“It seems you’ve already become something of a celebrity. Is your plan to simply threaten any demon who talks about you?” Cass hummed, not really caring to have a conversation when she still didn’t know where her fucking class was. Honestly, if threatening demons who treated her like dirt or a meal was how she survived, that’s how she survived. “While I understand it is inevitable you associated with Solomon, you should know he can’t be trusted. Unlike you, he can wield powerful magic and will try to subjugate even a powerful demon given the chance.”

“Got it, I can’t trust the only human here, but demons are good.” Cass went to step around him before pausing, remembering her conversation with Levi yesterday. Lucifer had hidden Mammon’s credit card, the credit card needed to make a pact with Mammon. Maybe she should just come out and ask him where it was.

“Is there something you want to ask me?” Lucifer smirked, as if knowing she needed something from him.

“Where is room 2122b?” She asked. Maybe she could get Lilith to tell her.

“Is that all? I would have thought you had question about Mammon.” Cass didn’t answer, not giving him the satisfaction. “If you go down this hall and take the first right and it’ll be the second door on the left.”

“Great, thank you,” Cass said, going to her first class of the day.

As much as she wanted to focus, she couldn’t. While the material was interesting, it was too much being thrown into a new world. Especially considering she’d been told she’d be living with seven brothers but had only met six.

At this point, all she knew about the final brother was he had long, greyish indigo hair with white tips and was comfortable enough to fall asleep leaning against Beel. Given his brothers were avatars of the six of the seven deadly sins, she assumed he was the avatar of sloth. It probably wasn’t abnormal for him to fall asleep against anyone.

The rest of the day was a cycle of thinking about each of the brothers and how to find Mammon’s credit card. She should have just asked Lucifer. She had to look up what a credit card was. How was she supposed to find one hidden in a strange, unknown house by a strange, unknown demon? The only seemingly valuable thing she’d come across was freezing credit, which seemed like a good option if Lucifer didn’t want Mammon to spend money.

“If I was going to hide a credit card to freeze someone’s spending, where would I put it?” Cass said out loud. She was lying upside down on her couch, head hanging off the edge. “It’s not literally frozen. He’s been around for centuries. It has to mean something else.”

“Does it though?” A voice interrupted her thoughts. Cass opened her eyes to see Lilith floating upside down, staring at her. “Look, I love Lucifer, but he finds dad jokes a bit too funny.” Cass didn’t answer, unsure what dad jokes were. “Predictable jokes, puns?”

Cass spun around. “Are you saying he literally froze Mammon’s credit card? Wouldn’t someone have found it by now?”

Lilith didn’t answer, simply giving Cass a look before disappearing. Was everyone in the Devildom cryptic as hell? It was past midnight. If she went to the kitchen now, there was a chance she wouldn’t run into anyone. It was probably safter to go now than in the middle of the day.

Cass tried to be as quiet as possible going to the kitchen. Luckily, she didn’t run into anyone. Part of her had debated texting Levi but decided against it. If Lilith was messing with her or her hunch was wrong, she’d rather he not know about it. She managed not to scream when she ran into Beel as she walked into the kitchen.

“Why you going to the kitchen so late?”

 She was drawn to Beel. Despite the fact that he expressed less emotions than the other brothers and was harder to read, something about him felt safe. She could tell he was a caring person, or demon, he just had a harder time of showing it.

“I was just getting a glass of water,” Cass lied. She wasn’t sure why. Something told her Beel wouldn’t care why she was in the kitchen. He huffed in response, going to leave. Suddenly she remembered the picture, the indigo haired demon slumped against Beel in the picture. “Hey, Beel, can I ask you something?”

“What?”

“Diavolo said I’d be living here with you and your brothers. He said there were seven of you, but I haven’t met your youngest brother. I was wondering–”

“Don’t ever mention him in front of Lucifer” Beel cut her off “ and don’t bother asking the rest of us. We don’t talk about him. Even though he’s our brother, we have to treat him like he doesn’t exist, it’s not fair,” Beel trailed off. Another crack. “But since no one can defy Lucifer, that’s that. Besides, it’s not any of your business.”

Cass reached out, grabbing Beel’s arm as he went to leave. “I know it doesn’t mean anything, and I’m just this random human forced to live with you, but if you need someone to talk to,” Cass paused, looking up at Beel. He didn’t say anything, but for a moment, it looked like he wanted to. “Have a nice night, Beel.”

He didn’t say anything, just nodded before walking out of the room. She should ask Lilith next time she appeared. Despite not talking about the seventh brother, it clearly weighed on Beel. The longer she was in the Devildom, the more she started to think she might be an empath. She was trapped in a house with six broken demons who needed help and was beginning to feel like her purpose was to help them.

“That’s not important right now,” she whispered. One thing at a time Cass, damn. Start with the credit card and pact and move on to whatever the fuck was haunting these demons after.

She checked to make sure Beel had actually left before opening the freezer. She was certain Lilith was messing with her when she looked into the nearly empty freezer. Beel must have eaten everything possible, because it looked like the only thing left was ice. Well, ice and what looked like freezer burnt ice cream from God knows how long ago. She shoved it out of the way in frustration.

As she went to slam the door shut, a glint of light caught her eye. Buried in ice, underneath the ice cream was a golden credit card. She pulled it out, but was unable to read the name. It had to be Mammon’s. Why else would there be a credit card in the freezer. She threw the frozen card in the sink, running hot water over it.

As the ice melted, she sighed. Step one, complete. Now she just needed to get Mammon to agree to a pact. When Levi first suggested it, she hadn’t really cared much either way. Pact or not, she was still stuck here with no memory. As she thought about it at school, though, she realized it would be nice to have some level of control over her situation, as well as someone on her side in the Devildom, willingly or not.

Cass sat on the edge of the counter, waiting for the ice to melt. When the ice was almost gone, she picked the card up. Sure enough, in silver lettering was Mammon’s name. Cass stared at the card, wondering what her next move was. It wasn’t until she heard his gasp that she realized Mammon had walked into the kitchen.

“IS THAT GOLDIE? DIDJA FIND MY CARD HUMAN?” Mammon yelled, rushing towards her. He went to grab the card, but Cass shoved it into her back pocket before he could. “Whadda think you’re doin’?”

“Leveraging your card for my benefit?” Mammon looked at her in disbelief. “Make a pact with me, and I’ll give you your precious card.”

“NO WAY!” Mammon snapped. “What makes you think The Great Mammon, one of the rulers of the Devildom would ever make a pact? Let some human be the boss of me?”

”Oh Luuuuccccifffeeeer,” Cass called.

Mammon’s eyes widened in fear, hand going to cover her mouth. He stepped between her legs, eyes pleading with her to be quiet. He didn’t move for a while, maybe waiting for his fear to subside or until he felt he could trust Cass not to say anything.

“You’re serious right now?” He asked, pulling his hand away. Cass nodded, though she wasn’t. “Fuck, fine.”

He stepped back, hand going to his belt. It took a second for Cass to register what he was doing. “Um, what the fuck are you doing?”

He glanced at her in disbelief. “What do you think?” Cass stared at him, eyes wide in confusion. “I thought ya wanted to make a pact.”

“Yeah?”

Mammon threw his hands up in frustration. “Are ya aware of a different way to make a pact?”

“I guess I don’t know how to make one.” Mammon stared at her. “I literally don’t even know my last name, what makes you think I’d know how to make a pact with a demon?!”

“I’d expect ya to look it up at the very least.” When Cass didn’t answer, Mammon rolled his eyes and continued, “pacts gotta be consummated.”

“Oh,” Cass answered, “OH!”

“Havin’ second thoughts?” Mammon asked, hand going to grab his credit card from her back pocket. “We don’t have to do anything ya know? You can give me my card and we can forget this ever happened.”

Cass smacked his hand away. “It’s not a second thought. It’s just,” she paused, not sure how to phrase it. “I just, I don’t have my memories.” Mammon didn’t answer, waiting for her to continue. “I don’t know if I’ve done, if I’ve ever, you know.” She gestured in the space between them.

Before she knew what was happening, Mammon’s hands flew to the counter beside her. His grasp was so tight that the butcher block split in his grip. “Don’t, don’t say things like that to a demon.” His voice was quiet, like he was trying his hardest to restrain himself. Cass didn’t answer, not sure what he meant. He continued, not meeting her eyes. “I’m a demon.”

“Oh really?”

Mammon scoffed, the counter cracking more under his grip. “Ya can’t say things like that to a demon. Our whole thing is corruptin’ humans. Do ya realize what your doing to me right now?”

“Oh,” she repeated, “OH!” Mammon didn’t answer, almost as if he was trying to calm his erratic breathing. “Fuck it,” she breathed. Mammon’s head snapped up, finally meeting her gaze. “Let’s make a pact.

His hands left the counter at the speed of light, grabbing her hips pulling her closer. Their lips met in a bruising kiss. Before Cass had time to process what was happening, he had lifted her off the counter and was moving towards the door. Her arms tightened around his neck, clutching to him as if he was going to drop her.

“Wh-what, what are you doing?”

“You think I want any of my brothers comin’ in and seein’ ya this,” he scoffed, “fuck I’m surprised Asmo didn’t smell you and come down here already.”

“SMELL?” She gasped, but Mammon didn’t answer. Before she knew it, they were in his room and she was being thrown on his bed. Levi wasn’t kidding when he said he was fast. She barely had time to catch her breath, let alone stop her head from spinning before Mammon was kissing her again. And so, her first pact was made.

---

Cass stared at the ceiling of Mammon’s room. She’d expected there to be something more to making a pact besides saying something in Latin and sleeping with the demon. Cass glanced at Mammon, who was lying next to her, also avoiding her gaze.

“That was,” he started.

“Unexpected?”

“Sure,” he answered, but something in his voice told her that wasn’t what he was thinking.

He got up and started getting dressed. Cass sat up, holding the sheet up against her, not really sure what to say that could break the tension. She didn’t know how pacts work, much less what it meant to make one. Was this Mammon’s first pact with human? She almost asked but stopped herself. Why did it matter? 

“Um,” Cass said, breaking the silence. Mammon looked over his shoulder but didn’t say anything. “Is it, can demons, can I get pregnant?”

Mammon’s movement froze, eyes widening. After a moment, he started dressing, moving faster than before. Cass didn’t move, terror rushing through her. Something in his response told her it wasn’t the risk of pregnancy that had him moving like that.

“Mammon?” He didn’t respond. “MAMMON!” Finally, he looked at her. Her voice fell quiet under his gaze, “what happens to humans who are pregnant with demons?” Again, he didn’t answer, her question only making him move faster. Panic rushed through her. For the first time since arriving in the Devildom she honestly felt afraid. “MAMMON!” She said, summing as much energy as he could. “Am I going to die?”

He kneeled next to her, hands cupping her face. He looked at her with genuine emotions, and it scared the hell out of her. “No, do you think the Great Mammon would let that happen?”

Cass fought back tears. He looked as unsure as she felt. Fuck. Why hadn’t she thought of that earlier? It hadn’t even crossed her mind. Why would it have? She didn’t know anything about demons and humans. It was the uncertainty in Mammon’s answer that scared her. Had he acted like he didn’t care about her, that would have been better, more comforting.

“Stop.” Mammon’s voice pulled her from her thoughts. He held her eye contact, concern laced in his gaze. “You’re gonna be fine, okay? I’ll talk to Lucifer, and he’ll know what to do. It’ll be fine.” It sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than her. “I’ll go now, okay?”

Mammon made a move towards the door and Cass stood, grabbing the closest shirt she could find. Mammon opened his mouth to say something, but stopped when he saw her dressing. She didn’t notice his staring at first, flinching under his gaze when she finally looked up.

“Sorry, I just grabbed something. I figured it’d be faster than trying to find mine,” she said, pulling at the edge of his button up nervously. It was large enough that it was falling off one shoulder, the hem landing midthigh.

She tried taking a step towards Mammon but lost her footing. He was by her side in an instant, catching her. “Ya really think your going to be able to walk to Lucifer’s room?”

“Well, I’m not just going to sit around here waiting.” Mammon and Cass held a silent starting contest before he finally resigned, scooping her up bridal style. “Wha–?”

“I’ll just carry you.”

Cass didn’t bother arguing, knowing already how much faster it would be. She closed her eyes, turning her head into Mammon’s chest feeling a wave of motion sickness at his movement. It wasn’t until she heard a knock that she opened her eyes. A moment later, the door swung open revealing a disappointed Lucifer. It looked like he was about to start scolding whoever had knocked on the door when he must have realized why they were there.

---

Cass stared at the fire behind Lucifer. He’d been lecturing Mammon for the last hour, occasionally passing a condescending comment her way. She was having a hard time concentrating on anything he said, though. She couldn’t shake Mammon’s reaction to her earlier from her thoughts.

“Can’t ya do this later?” Mammon hissed. “There are more pressing issues.”

“If you had any semblance of self-control, there wouldn’t be.”

“I had self-control, considerin’ she was going on about being a virgin. Don’t act like you wouldn’t have done the same–”

“I wasn’t going on about being a virgin. I literally said I have no memories–”

“I don’t care what the circumstances were.” Cass looked away from Mammon, trying not to roll her eyes. Lucifer handed her a small vial. “This potion will prevent pregnancy. I had some made on the off chance you surprised us and made a pact. Though, I didn’t expect it to be so quick.”

As she drank the potion, Lucifer muttered something in what sounded like Latin. “Well, the potion is most effective before being intimate, it won’t hurt to take it after.” He handed her a piece of paper with something written in a foreign language. “This is a spell to help strengthen the effects. Any demon will be able to perform it with ease. Well, any demon worth making a pact with. I’ll work with Barbatos to make more potion, should you end up needing more. Please try to refrain yourself until then, no matter how hard you find it.”

“EXCUSE ME? Thanks for the potion, though I could do without the haughty tone.” She stood up, glaring at Lucifer. “Ass,” she said under her breath as she stormed towards the door, letting it slam behind her.  

Cass groaned, falling into her bed. Of all the things she expected to happen that evening, that wasn’t one of them. She rolled over to look at the time when she saw Lilith sitting on the edge of her table. She was grinning, feet swinging beneath her.

“He likes you,” she laughed. “Lucifer.”

“He has a funny way of showing it.”

“Yeah.”

“Wait, Lilith, you’ve been here for a while, right?” The ghost nodded. “Can you tell me about their seventh brother?”

Lilith’s feet stopped moving. She sighed, jumping off the table to start pacing. “No.”

“Seriously?” Cass demanded.

“shhhh.” Lilith glared at her. “They can’t know I’m here.”

“I thought you wanted me to help them! I can’t help them if I don’t know anything. Why is everything a secret?”

Lilith looked at her with understanding, but it only made Cass angrier. Why did it feel like she was playing a game where everyone knew the rules except her. It was frustrating enough talking to the brothers, but at least she could understand their perspective.

They didn’t ask her to be here, Diavolo did. Lilith, on the other hand, asked her to help. Cass’s only goal was to survive for the year and try to get her memories back. Despite wanting to help the brothers, if they didn’t let her, she couldn’t force them to accept her help.

“I want to tell you, I do, really.” Against her better judgement, Cass believed her. “If you know too much about them though, they won’t trust you. You have to earn their trust, or they’ll just shut you out more. They’ve been burned in the past, which is why they act that way.”

“Can you tell me anything? How do you know them? Why can’t they know you’re here? You told me you’ve tried contacting them before. What changed?”

She didn’t say anything for a minute. “Fine, but you can’t tell them. At least not yet.”

---

Asmo had been laughing for the last ten minutes, despite Satan telling him to quiet down. Apparently, Cass making a pact with Mammon was one of the funniest things he’d heard in a while. She was too busy replaying her conversation with Lilith to care about the little insults he was making towards her.

So, Lilith was their sister from the Celestial Realm. Well, that explained her ethereal nature and why she cared so much about them. Honestly, Cass should have seen it sooner given how many similar features she had to the brothers.

“If they know you knew about me, they won’t trust you. They’ll be angry and resent you.” It made sense. While Lilith wouldn’t tell her what happened that led to her being a ghost in the Devildom that her brothers couldn’t see nor what made their dynamics so bizarre, Cass understood why she couldn’t tell them. She knew they all had their defenses built so strong it would take a miracle to break through them.

“I don’t know what’s more surprising, an average human like you making a pact with Mammon so fast or you teaming up with Levi to make it happen.”

“All that matters is I got my money back from Mammon AND my figurine. I’ll finally be able to buy the Blu-ray box set of Journey to the Devildom: The Tale of a Little She-Devil and her Reluctant Companio! The initial rounds even have tickets to a live event,” Levi said.

“I never thought I’d see a human win over Levi, but here we are,” Satan mused, speaking over Levi.

Levi stopped mid rant. “Excuse me?! Nobody won me over. Especially not some non-otaku normie human. We had a purely business relationship due to our aligned interests.”

Levi huffed, crossing his arms and glaring at the center of the table, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes. Cass didn’t miss the blush appearing at Satan’s words though. She also didn’t miss the way Beel was trying to sneak food off her plate, though she used sneak lightly. She pushed her plate towards him, not having much of an appetite.

“You know, we should be careful or we might find ourselves in a pact with Cass as well. If you had to choose one of us to forge a pact with next, who would it be, Cass?”

She glanced at Asmo before her eyes flashed to the other demons at the table. She didn’t care to have the pact she had, let alone more of them. Besides, the question seemed like a trap. She’s certain no matter how she answered it would end with one of them insulting her.

“None of you, I’m not interested.”

“WHAT?! Do you know how offensive that is? It’s as if you think we’re not worth making a pact with. Yet you made one with that stupid, poor excuse of a dem-” Asmo was interrupted by Mammon smacking the back of his head. “OW! I can’t believe you STRUCK my beautiful, beautiful head! Not even Lucifer has done something like that!”

“Stop callin’ me a poor excuse for a demon, you pea brain. Y’all think you’re so great. None of this would’ve happened if Lucifer hadn’t taken my precious Goldie away from me and hidden her against her will.”

The brothers responded in disgust to Mammon personifying his credit card. Cass wasn’t sure Levi was one to talk considering his unnerving infatuation with an animation or Asmo given his self-obsession. She was just grateful the conversation was no longer focused on her. She wasn’t in much of a mood to talk. Besides, Mammon seemed to have more of knack of sticking his foot in his mouth than her. His mocking of Lucifer continuing despite him standing behind Mammon.

“You know, he’s so stupid it’s almost sad,” Asmo noted as Mammon rubbed his head where Lucifer had hit him.

“It’s almost like we’re being punished by having him as our brother.”

Lucifer sat down, speaking directly to her, ignoring his brothers’ continued squabbling. “Cass, I didn’t say it last night, but it’s quite the accomplishment managing a pact in such a short time.”

“Well, I supposed if you hadn’t been too busy implying I was a whore, you would have gotten around to it.”

Lucifer chuckled, shaking his head. “Perhaps, but Diavolo will be pleased regardless.”

“Oi, human!” Cass rolled her eyes at Mammon’s voice. “Don’t sit there with your heads in the clouds, we gotta go.”

Cass pushed her chair out, knowing her three options were to walk with Mammon, with the other brothers, or alone. Surprisingly, Mammon was the safest or quietest option. She followed him out of the dining room towards the door, not bothering to tune into his complaints.

“Hey, don’t go thinkin’ you can ignore the Great Mammon just ‘cause you managed to make some pact, human!”

Cass stopped in her tracks glaring at him. “Seriously?” He huffed, sticking his arms out. “You still won’t call me by my name?”

“No, I won’t. You’re just a lowly human, come back in a million years and maybe I’ll consider calling ya by your name. Learn your place, ‘cause if you don’t, I swear I’ll make you my next meal. Let’s go, human.”

“Call me by my name or I’m not going,” Cass said, crossing her arms.

“What makes you think I care if you go?”

“Call me by my name,” she demanded.

“Fuck,” Mammon hissed, eyes wide. “Is this all ‘cause of the pact?! Listen to me hum-” he stopped, as if he physically couldn’t finish the word. “Hu-hum-FINE, Cass!” They stared at each other, Mammon catching his breath. Cass wondered how much energy it took to fight off whatever control the pact had over him. “Look, just because may be in control of my body doesn’t mean you own my mind.”

“I don’t want to own you,” Cass said, surprising him. “I literally only asked you to call me by my name. I’d expect even demons to have that level of decorum.”

He didn’t say anything at first, but his frustration seemed to fade. “Where is it?” Cass tilted her head in confusion. She already gave him his credit card, what else did he want. “The mark?” Silence. “You really don’t know anything about pacts do ya? When you make a pact, you have a mark to show it.”

His eyes fell to her hand, as if he already knew it would be there. She followed his gaze to her left hand. Oh. Wrapping around her pointer finger was an intricate golden design. It faded towards the top, the design tightening at the base. It almost looked like a ring, a sigil resting in the middle like a stone. Cass gasped, taken aback at how beautiful it was.

“How did–”

“When you woke me up yesterday,” Mammon answered, not looking away from her hand. “The mark appears where you first touch a demon.”

---

Mammon didn’t say much after they left. He did keep looking at her hand, taking in the mark. Cass didn’t blame him. It almost seemed to catch the light like real gold. She traced over it, but it didn’t feel like anything. She had been starting at it since she’d gotten to her first class.

“Whenever an important announcement is made, the demons around here couldn’t care less. Yet, rumors spread like wildfire. The uproar about the new exchange student hadn’t even subsided, and now this.”

“Don’t say that Barbatos! This gossip ensures everyone is watching this human, making it harder for any demon to go after Cass’s soul.”

“Which is especially important given Mammon’s not doing a very good job as a guardian.”

Diavolo sat across from Cass. “I must say, I can’t believe you managed to forge a pact with Mammon. That’s no small feat.”

“I suppose it stands as proof that you chose well bringing this human here, Lord Diavolo,” Barbatos praised.

“Sometimes I wish I could trade a certain idiot brother of mine for Barbatos,” Lucifer said.

“It is sometimes said that a truly wise man does not flaunt his talents, he keeps them secret.”

Barbatos smiled at Lucifer, but it had a mocking aura to it. Lucifer scoffed, as if the very thought of Mammon having any talents was laughable. Cass tried not to smile at the reaction. He really did act like the protective older brother.

“I’ve heard it said that the most thick-headed child is always the cutest.”

“I don’t even want to think of Mammon as my child.”

“See how he doesn’t deny the part of Mammon being cute.” Cass looked up at the unknown voice. His laugh sounded almost like music. “Out of all seven of you brothers, you are, without a doubt, the most troublesome.”  

“That almost sounds like a compliment, Simeon.”

“Well, it’s not,” another unknown voice interjected. Cass was surprised to see what looked like a ten-year child in front of her.

“Allow me to introduce you, Cass,” Diavolo said, noticing her surprise. “This is Simeon and Luke. They are our exchange students from the Celestial Realm. As you can probably guess, they are angels.”

“Well, Simeon is an angel. Luke is more of a chihuahua.”

“I am NOT a chihuahua,” Luke yelled. “I may be a low-ranking angel, but I’ll have you know that I report directly to Michael the Archangel!”

“Luke, calm down, there’s no need to make such a fuss.” Simeon turned to Cass, flashing a dazzling smile. Unlike the demons, there was genuine warmth behind the action. “It is a pleasure to meet you Cass, we’ve heard a lot of rumors!” The warning bell rang through the room. “I apologize for any trouble we’ve caused, Cass, but I look forward to getting to know you better.”

Diavolo and Barbatos followed Simeon out of the room. Lucifer looked like he was about to say something to Cass, but decided against it. Luke stayed behind, glaring at the door Lucifer had just exited through.

“Are you okay?”

“Never trust a demon, Cass, especially if that demon is Lucifer. I was against this exchange program from the beginning, especially bringing humans to the Devildom. You need to be safe, and Mammon certainly isn’t going to help.”

Luke’s hand landed on hers and he looked at her with so much concern it warmed her heart. For the first time since arriving, she felt there was someone that genuinely cared about her, not just cared about her surviving because Diavolo wanted the exchange program to succeed. Luke left without another word, leaving her to wonder how much him and Simeon and him knew about the brothers.

---

Solomon laughed, laughing down his cards. “Read ‘em and reap. It’s a straight flush.” Asmo groaned, throwing his loosing hand on the table. “That’s 183 wins for me!”

“Are you using magic?”

“I am but a simple human, an innocent lamb. I’d appreciate if you wouldn’t accuse me of behaving like you demons.”

“How can you say that with a straight face, Solomon? I think you may be the least innocent of all of us.”

“Is that truly what you think of me, Satan?” Solomon joked, shuffling the cards. “I must say, it’s lucky Mammon isn’t here, he likely would have broken my record-breaking winning streak by now.”

Satan nodded in agreement. “You’re right, considering he’s usually such dolt, he is surprisingly good at making money.”

“Shouldn’t you be a bit more respectful towards Mammon? You’re always putting him down, despite him being your older brother.”

A third demon sat down next to Solomon at his question. “Have you met Mammon?”

“See, even Vas knows how impossible that is, and he’s not even Mammon’s brother!” The warning bell rang. “You’re running a bit late today, Vas, Preta make you late again?”

“Actually, we ran into Beel and he was telling us about the pact the new exchange student managed to make with Mammon.” At his words, Satan and Asmo started laughing. “How did she manage that?”

“I honestly don’t know. She found Mammon’s hidden credit card on her own. Lucifer was quite impressed. He kept mentioning his surprise at breakfast,” Satan answered. “I think the rest of are just as surprised that Mammon actually agreed to make a pact.”

“It seems like everyone is acting like making a pact is a huge thing. Sure, it’s funny Cass tricked Mammon, but the pact itself isn’t that big of a deal. Take Solomon and me, we’re in a pact. You also have one with Barabtos and Vasago!” Vas scoffed at Asmo. “What? You must have had a reason to make a pact.”

“I lost a bet with Preta, I didn’t exactly want to make one.” Solomon smiled at Vas, knowing despite the reason behind the pact, they were actually quite close.

“I have to agree with Vas. Generally, demons are too proud to make pacts.”

“I’ve been very fortunate but can’t afford to be complacent. Otherwise, Cass might make a pact with Lucifer before I can.”  

Asmo giggled at Solomon’s words, his demeanor showing a lack of concern. Both him and Vas were well aware of how Solomon was at this point. Satan shot Solomon a curious glance, but let it go. Solomon likely wasn’t concerned given he didn’t need to rush in making Lucifer like him. Though Satan doubted he’d ever win Lucifer over enough to agree to that.

“Judging from how Beel was talking, Lucifer is already growing fond of the human. Preta took a liking to her yesterday too. I wouldn’t be surprised if they tried to befriend her.”

“We may need to give Cass a bit of a warning. We were already joking about Beel eating her, but Preta is a whole different story. Given Lucifer’s added a new favorite person to his list along with Mammon, he wouldn’t take to kindly to her being eaten.”

Solomon pocketed the pack of cards as Satan took his seat and the final bell rung. They were in for a much more interesting semester than any of them had expected when Cass was first chosen. Hopefully it continued to be positive surprises.

---

“Never trust a demon.”

Cass kept thinking about Luke’s warning. When Luke had left the classroom, the calming aura he and Simeon had lingered. She wanted to hold them at arm’s length. Being angels didn’t make her immediately trust them. Both of them had a sincerity about them that made it hard not to though.

It reminded her of Lilith. Just like Lilith, Luke’s warning held some hidden knowledge that he wasn’t willing to share. She didn’t need his warning though. She didn’t need to know his reasoning behind it. She already distrusted Lucifer. Unlike his brothers, it always felt like he was playing a game, never revealing his hand even though everyone else’s cards were showing. Lucifer had a hidden card up his sleeve that he wasn’t sharing with his family.

A soft voice echoed through the room, startling her. Lilith was nowhere to be seen. Though Cass wouldn’t put it past the ghost to pull a prank, the voice was unfamiliar. She stood on her bed, trying to get closer to the vent.

“Someone, please, help me.”

The voice was just as faint. She could barely make on the words. Why was there someone calling for help? Was it another ghost that nobody could hear? Or was it something all the brothers were aware of and just learned to ignore? Well, she couldn’t sleep anyways.

Cass walked through the halls on her toes, praying to whatever higher power might be listening that she didn’t wake any of the brothers. She paused every so often to check that she could still hear the voice, letting it guide her towards the source.

When the voice was at its loudest, she realized the path was a dead end. She wasn’t even sure what part of the house she was in. She stood in a short hall that ended with a window. There was a large family portrait hanging on one wall, opposite was the only door. It wasn’t unlocked but it was only a closet for storage.

“Help! Please!”

“I’m trying,” Cass whispered, not sure if they could even hear her. “Maybe there’s another hall I missed?” She closed the closet door, ready to backtrack when Lilith appeared beside the family portrait. “About time you showed up. Want to give me a hint to how to find the person in the vents?”

Lilith laughed, tapping the edge of the painting. Cass gave her a skeptical look before inspecting the frame. No fucking way. She pushed the painting to the side revealing an indent from a hidden door. Of course, this creepy house would have hidden doors and secret passageways.

Luckily the picture was light despite the size. Cass pressed on the door, not sure how it opened. There was a click and the door swung backwards, revealing a small room with a stone, spiral staircase with an iron railing. Cass’s jaw dropped staring up into the darkness.

Before she could even take a step, a gloved hand wrapped around her wrist, and pulled her back. She suppressed a surprise scream. Lucifer’s ruby eyes glistened in the dark. A smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. It seemed he was just as surprised as Cass to find someone in the room.

“This is no place for humans, you need to go back to your room.” He stepped around her, blocking the way to the stairs. Lilith lounged on the stairs behind him, rolling her eyes at his warning.

“Okay,” Cass said.

Lucifer took a step towards her, expecting to follow her out. Before she second guessed herself, she rushed under his outstretched arm, towards the stairs. Within a second, Lucifer had pulled her back, wrapping his arms around her, constricting her movement. His breath ghosting over her ear as he chuckled softly.

“You are quite brazen. You do know that don’t you?”

“I figured at least saying the answer you wanted would help you save face,” Cass answered, failing to escape his grasp.

“I’m not giving you a choice, Cass. Go back to your room if you value your life. This is the Devildom after all, you need to follow certain rules to ensure your safety.” He let Cass go without warning, causing her to stumble out of the room. She turned around in time to see the door close behind her.

“What are you hiding, Lucifer?” She whispered, staring at the door.  

[voltagesmutter]

Underwear Shopping

Pairing: All Demons x MC (F).

Fandom: Obey Me.

Warning/Notes: Slight and suggestive NSFW. Underwear shopping with the demon brothers.

Lucifer:

Acts as if it doesn’t bother him but deep down he’s excited to see what you buy. 

Of course he keeps trying to play cool and that he’s an older male, not a giggling schoolboy like his brothers and something so simple as underwear shopping can phase him. 

But boy is he wrong. 

You hold up multiple designs to your chest, “What do you think about these?”, “Oh these are pretty!”, “Do you like this set in this colour or that one?”. And whilst he agrees and nods along to it all, you can’t help but notice the sly way his eyes dart back to a crimson red set on display. 

You threw a set of it into your basket when he is looking, heading off to the empty changing room before slipping into it. The red lace settled perfectly against you, the colour of it perfectly matching the gemstone-red of Lucifer's eyes.

Taking out your D.D.D you drop him a message, telling him you need his assistance which being the devoted boyfriend he is, comes straight away to the changing rooms.

“Can’t an assistant help you out, I don’t think I should-...” His words come to a halt as you pull back the curtain, letting him get a full few of the set you had on. His jaw hanging open wide and the avatar of pride is for once speechless. But with a quick blink of your eyes it’s over and Lucifer has pulled the curtain shut, hissing at you to get dressed leaving you feeling rather embarrassed.

Throwing back on your clothes to step out to see Lucifer impatiently scowling and tapping his foot. He grabs your wrist and leads straight out the store with a bag in his hand.

“Lucifer!” You protest as he leads you out to an empty alley beside the shop, pushing you against the wall as he cages you in. 

“I brought you multiple sets of that outfit,” He hums leaning dangerously close, a hint of mischief in his eyes, “So we’re going to go home and you're going to try it on again, then,”. He gives you a toothy grin before leaning into the shell of your ear, “You're going to let me tear it off your body so you can feel just how beautiful you look in it,” The bulge of his trousers pressing against your thigh as he nips your ear lobe. 

“Do you really like it?” You whispered meekly, with a hitched gasp.

“If I even re-imagine you in it, I don’t think I’ll make it home before I have to have you in it,” Huskily replied, before a bold strike of his tongue licks the course of your neck. 

Any self control he had was hanging by a thread, the minute he saw you in it at home it snapped like a rubber band, just like the underwear set as he clawed at it to pull from your body. 

Thank goodness he brought over 10 sets of it because by the end of the week, 6 of them were in ruins. 

Mammon:

“Pft clothes shopping with the little human doesn’t bother the Great Mammon!” Words lived to regret.

He goes from strong bound Mammon to shy blushy boy the minute you tug him into the shop full of panties and bras. 

He literally dies from blushing overload.

“Well I like these, but what do you like?” You asked, holding up a tiny thong in yellow and watching his eyes widen. Mammon had never actually seen your underwear properly, too busy tugging it off your body to actually admire it. 

“B-buy whatcha like,” Pulling his sunglasses down to try hide the shade of red on his face.

“Or what about these?”, “Oh I like these!”, “Mammon, what do you think?” Holding up a thrilled black set of a bralette and thong, matching suspenders and stockings with it.

All Mammon can do is cough to try hide the squeal that left his mouth as he saw it. 

“I- I uh… I like it better… in white,” His face a blaze as he awkwardly scratches his neck trying to hide his face. 

“White it is then!” You smile, grabbing it off the shelf and giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“You know,” You leaned into his chest as he pulled you close, resting his head on top of yours, “Since you were such a good boyfriend for helping me pick, I’ll wear it especially for you when we get home,”. 

Mammon doesn’t need to hear another word, holding your hand he throws the outfit at the till and swipes goldie so fast it could have set the card machine on fire. You barely have time to even unzip your bag to get your card out by the time he’s already pulling you out of the shop. 

A huge grin on his face as he tells you, ‘He’s down to come underwear shopping with you again anytime’.

Levi:

“What do you think?” You teased, watching your boyfriend gawp at what you were holding, big panties with ugly patterns on them that looked like your grandma’s curtains. 

“I mean sure, whatever you feel comfortable in,” He nods, hands fisting around a lace thong the same colour of his latest console controller, a deep purple. 

Giggling you put them down, walking to him and asking what he has there. 

“Oh Levi these are perfect! This is just what I was looking for,” You take the underwear from his hands as you hold it up, twisting them in the light to get a good look. 

Levi looks like he could burst into flames on the spot with how red he is.

“I- I… I was just holding them because they were in the wrong place… I… you don’t need… I” He mumbles off but you shut him up with a smile.

“They are just what I wanted, now I just need to find a bra to match,” You smiled, heading straight over to them as Levi follows behind you.

“I saw one over there…” He points in the direction to where the matching bra was, as he said he ‘just happened to notice it’. 

You brought the set and went home together holding hands, swinging your arms in a playful manner. As soon as you get home you give Levi some space, letting him jump on to his console for a few hours.

“Oh Levi,” You knocked on his door and pushed it open to see him sitting on his gaming chair, controller in hand. With a light smirk you walk in, shutting the door and dropping your dressing gown showing him the purple set from earlier on you complimented with knee high socks and your hair in low pigtails. You’d done your makeup and hair to resemble one of his favourite characters you’d seen from his online manga series. Your dressing gown and his controller hit the floor at the same time.

“Think you have time for a two player game?” You whispered as you made your way over to him, straddling him in his chair as he can do is nod at your question.

Satan:

He was grumpy. He stropped the whole time you were in the shop.

“Oh this is the bra I’ve been looking for for ages!” You squeal, dropping his hand and darting across the empty store to clutch the yellow material with daisies on.

“Satan look they even have my size, oh this is perfect!” You grab the last one of your size, yelling over your shoulder, “Can you grab me the panties?”. 

When no response comes you turn around and find Satan still standing at the entrance huffing as he crossed his arms.

Sighing, you trek across the shop and grab what you need, before heading to your boyfriend.

“Can you at least pretend to be interested please, I need to try this on to check it’s the right fit,” You pouted as he sighed softly, wrapping his arm around your waist and guiding you to the changing rooms.

“What’s wrong with you today, I-!” You squeal softly as he pushes you against a wall, face pulled close to yours as he licks his lips hungrily.

“I already told you before we left,” Pressing kisses down your chin with a little groan, “I already like with you nothing on, this is a waste of time,”. 

“S-Satan I need new underwear for school,” You replied, trying to hold in the moan in your throat as he nipped your neck.

“Whenever you're with me,” His hands curve around your thighs before slowly moving up to cup your ass over your jeans, “You never need to wear any because you know I’ll have them off in seconds,”.

“Is this why you’ve been mardy?” You wrap your arms around his neck forgetting where you are in the back of the store.

“Maybe,” He hums softly with a smile, pulling back, “Try these on if you need too and let’s go home, I can’t wait to see you in my favourite outfit,”. 

He leans forward one more, whispering “Naked and below me,” with a pinch to your ass. 

Asmo:

“Oh sweetie your bra is just- ugh no my eyes,” Asmo had protested that morning whilst you got dressed, a horrific squeal coming from your boyfriend.

He insisted you go shopping and buy new underwear.

By insisted, he literally took your whole underwear drawer and threw it into the bin, forcing you to go out shopping.

“These are pretty,” You hold up a few casual bras for under your uniform, an eye roll and a tut comes from Asmo. 

“I mean for school, but sweetie come on push the boat out and treat yourself,” He holds up a hot pink bra that leaves little to the imagination.

“Right take these and try them on,” Asmo bunching a half the shop into your hands and shoving you into the dressing room.

A lot of them were beautiful and you fell in love instantly with them, matching sets of multiple colours and different designs.

The last one you had was lace with different strings on it, an intricate design that you couldn’t do alone.

“Asmo!” You call out, wanting to tell him to get an assistant but instead he comes into the room.

“Oh sweetie…” He grins in the mirror as he shuts the curtain, watching as you cup your breasts in modesty, not that he’d never seen them before.

“I need help, can you get the lady,” You shuffle on the spot, watching the rose-tinted eyes taking in your form in the mirror in front of you.

“Oh let me, I’ll be much better than them,” He giggles as he brushes your hair over your shoulder, delicate fingers working the lace and ribbon into knots. 

As he pulls the last one, he places soft kisses to the nape of your neck, one hand moving to your front to move your hand from chest to show yourself properly.

“You are so beautiful,” He continues his soft kisses, eyes meeting yours in a loving gaze in the mirror.

“Asmo I-“ A blush forming on your cheeks as you admire the underwear upon your skin, accentuating your breasts and curves in a manner you didn’t know it could.

“Let me buy you it,” He purrs against you, his two hands moving to stroke your bare waist softly, “Let me forever be the only person to see you like this,”. 

You turn your neck to face him, lips so close you can his breath against you, nothing but love in his eyes. 

The avart of lust he may be, but as well a boyfriend who stole your heart and wears it on his sleeve.

“Only for you Asmo,” You reply before he kisses you softly, embracing you from behind as the mirror captures your tender moment. 

A voice outside from the assistant pulls you apart, asking if you need any help.

“No I’m fine thank you!” You yelled, Asmo giggling into your neck as he finally lets you go.

“Now let's go home so I can get a proper look at you in this,” His finger snapping the back of your thong, making the skin beneath it ripple.

Belphegor:

“Belph?’... “Belph!”... “Fuck sake, Belphegor!”.

Finally a violet eye peered from beneath a shut eye-lid, Belphegor falling asleep in the chair as you tried on the underwear you had picked.

“Looks nice,” He yawned as you threw your hands up in frustration.

“I’m not even wearing anything, I’ve tried it all on,” You huffed, throwing every single item to the ‘not wanted’ pile in the dressing room.

“Woah after all this you're not getting anything?” Belph emphasised the annoyance in his voice.

“Oh I’m sorry, is spending time with your girlfriend an issue,” You sighed.

Multiple times you’d called out to him whilst trying things on for his opinion until after no response for the fourth time you peered out to find him asleep. Whilst he was a real-life sloth, he had promised to come with you and spend some alone time together. 

“No, I.. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” He bashfully replies, “What's wrong with all of them?.

He gestures to the pile and you let out a wounded sigh.

“They made me… thrumpy… that’s why I wanted your opinion,” Turning your head and missing the way he sprang to his feet to be by your side.

“I’ve seen you in underwear enough times to tell you how beautiful you look,” The softness of his voice as he cups your cheeks to hold your gaze. Love mixed into a whirling pool of sleep, a galaxy lost amongst the purple haze of admiration.

“Why don’t we look at them pad free things,” He offers a suggestion.

“You mean the bralettes?”.

“Yeah the ones you say are really comfortable, let’s get some of them so when we nap you’ll be fine,” He softly chuckles as he presses a kiss to your temple, “Or you could just go braless I don’t mind,”.

“Belph!” You laugh back with a light blush.

“You look the most gorgeous creature whatever you wear, so let’s go get and get some comfy clothes so we can go home,”.

“And nap?” You teased.

“A nap is on the list, but first, I want to hold you and love you until you can take no more,” His voice is in a hushed whisper for only you. “I want to remind you of just how perfect and unthrumpy you are, in whatever you want to wear, or not wear. And then we can nap,”.

Beel:

“Put them down!” You yelled quietly, balling up some underwear and throwing it at the ginger haired boy standing a few rows in front of you.

“But look!” He almost squeals like a child, waving a box in his hand.

Said box was a pair of panties made out of candy.

“Beel, will you please be serious,”.

You choose to ignore his pout and protest, completely blanking out the way he over dramatically sighs when he puts down the box, coming to stand beside you as you flick through boxes of sale underwear.

“Oooh what about these,” He laughs, holding up a ridiculously tiny thong in blue.

All you think is why did I bring him.

“Actually I like thongs, so put that in the basket,”

Beel goes red and thumbles slightly, “W-what wait? I was joking, are you serious?”.

“Yeah? I mean I’d say have you seen my underwear but you’ve torn so many…” Your voice quietens as you finish the sentence, losing yourself in the playful banter with your boyfriend you forgot other people were in the shop.

“I- I mean I don’t because I- shut up!” Beels' face is still red as he drops the garments into the basket. 

Finding fun in teasing him, you pick up more of the same ones and inspect them before dropping them into the basket, continuing to ask for his opinion.

By the end you purchase plenty of backup underwear in case Beel’s panty ripping faze continues and throw in a surprise extra just for Beel as a gift for coming with you.

“Tch! What’s the rush, dinners almost ready and I’m starving,” Beel huffing as you pull him into your room, sitting him down on the bed.

“Good, I was hoping you would be,” You unbutton your jeans and slowly pull them down until they pool at your ankles, fingers quickly tugging off your shirt. Beneath lays a matching candy underwear set.

You’ve never seen someone move so quickly, Beel pinning you against the wall as he practically drools on you.

“It’s all edible,” You smile, “Now eat up,”.

Enjoy my work, visit my Masterlist here. 

[after-witch]

Hook Line and Sinker [Yandere Ransom Drysdale x Reader]

Title: Hook Line and Sinker [Yandere Ransom Drysdale x Reader]

Synopsis: You’ve broken up with Ransom Drysdale, and you mean it this time. But the freedom that comes with the breakup leads to a series of unexpected coincidences that leave you wondering: was it worth the price?

Word Count: 8955

notes: yandere, mentions of physical abuse, financial abuse, comfort sweaters

Nothing lasts forever. Not even relationships--and certainly not love. What might start off as an intense, passionate relationship can (and did, in your case) eventually fizzle; things that you were willing to overlook when you were absolutely besotted would wear down with time, and eventually they became too much to ignore.

That’s what you tell yourself, what you remind yourself, in the moment after you tell him:

“It’s over, Ransom. We’re done. I’m leaving.”

It couldn’t last forever. Not with his inability to stay sober, not with his tendency to cheat on you with meaningless flings that somehow hurt more than any steamy single-minded affair. Not with his flare-ups of controlling tendencies that left you in tears on the bathroom floor as he asked you to please stop dressing like a slut in front of his family, is that too hard to ask?

You’d asked him to change. He swore he would; he never did. You forgave him, more than once, more times than you could count. But enough was enough. Maybe he thought you were too weak to leave him, especially three years into your relationship, when your lives were becoming so integrated, pushing you towards a potential permanent future. It was a future that left you feeling numb and anxious. Stuck in a marriage with someone who wanted to stay with you but treated you horribly, all the same. And that wasn’t even getting into the family dynamics that left your head spinning.

He stares at you now, and his mouth opens just a little bit in what you know is going to be a barrage of questions, insults, maybe even threats spurred on by your words. But instead he closes his mouth and shakes his head, letting out a soft, bitter chuckle.

“Well, damn. This sucks.” You can see the indent of his tongue in his cheek before he clicks and shrugs. “Guess that’s it then. Need help packing your shit or what?”

His response is so blasé that you’re genuinely shocked and, you must admit, a little hurt. He didn’t even ask for a second chance or beg you to stay or argue with you about your terrible timing because our-vacation-to-Hawaii-is-coming-up. So it’s your turn to look surprised, and you shake your head.

“No, I… already took care of it. It’s at a storage locker.” You didn’t have family left, and your close friends had pulled away from you one by one once you stayed with Ransom time and time again--so you’d had to pay movers to help you pack and transport everything to storage over the weekend, while Ransom was away and you were free to make a clean breakup.

He nods, sticks his hand inside his jacket pockets. He’s looking around the room, avoiding direct eye contact in a clear show of his discomfort. It’s weird seeing Ransom like this--the normally self-assured, cocky Ransom, looking for any excuse not to look at you.

“So… see ya around?” His tone is sincere, if still confused. The idea of you leaving must have really never crossed his mind. The look on his face when he finally faces you again appears genuinely puzzled.

He sticks out his hand and it feels almost comical for things to end this way, particularly considering the nights you’d spent imagining some big blow up, some big fight with Ransom screaming and you firing off the many reasons why it had to end no matter what he said.

But it didn’t go the way you expected at all. It was calm. Easy. A clean break-up.

So you shake his hand and grab your purse and the small roller-suitcase and give a half-hearted wave as you walk out the door; the taxi you’d hired to pick you up is waiting, car running, meter going. You would be staying at a hotel for two weeks, which would hopefully be enough time to find a semi-decent apartment; your credit score had improved so much since Ransom added you to his cards, to a shared checking account, and it wouldn’t be too difficult to get approved.

A new life, one where you could focus on yourself for once, was just around the corner.

**

"I'm sorry, miss, but it's definitely not the reader. The card is declined."

You've had this nightmare before. No, you've lived this nightmare before--years ago when your credit was shit and you ran up your cards and had to face the music in a publicly humiliating display with the longest checkout line you'd ever seen behind you. Only that was years ago, in a little grocery store, and since getting together with Ransom you never had to worry about problems like this. You never had to worry about the shame of not having enough, not being enough.

But this? This was happening now. In an upscale hotel. With your nice purse (a Christmas present) and designer clothes (casual, comfortable) and your cheeks flushed undeniably warm.

The hotel clerk has a tight, sympathetic smile on her face. A coworker who walks behind her glances at you, judging, and you just know he's going to head into some break room and tell everyone but yet another piece of discarded army candy with a declined credit card. You wish you'd kept your sunglasses on.

"Did it, um, say why? I don't--" you plaster a smile on your face, hating the way this all feels familiar, like a part of your past coming back to haunt you. "I don't understand, the card is good."

The clerk's smile flickers, just a bit.

"It says there's a fraud alert on this card. Perhaps you'd better call the company. Or would you like me to call them?"

Fucking. Ransom.

"Oh, oh no, don’t worry about it. I’ll call them myself. I'm so sorry about this." You turn away from the clerk as quickly as possible and step away from the counter, away from the person waiting behind you who will surely have no trouble with their card, away from the clerks giving you a passive side-eye. You lean against a cool cement pillar in the lobby and you know what you have to do.

You have to call Ransom.

You haven't deleted his number yet--you'd planned on calling him today or tomorrow to figure out how to split up your shared finances--so it's easy enough to find the number. It's not so easy to tap his contact, but you have to, so you force yourself to do it and stare at his photo as the call rings. And rings. And rings. “Hello?” Your breath catches but in an instant, when the message continues, you feel stupid. It’s his voicemail. Fuck.

You text him, instead. Emergency. Call right away. And of course: He leaves you on read. Fuck.

You call him again. And again. He picks up on the sixth call, but your heart is racing too hard and sweat is beading down your forehead and it takes you a moment to confirm that the "Hello?" wasn't part of the voicemail message this time. Fuck.

"Um. Hey," you say, keeping your voice as un-royally-pissed-off as possible, because if he did put in a fraud alert then you don't want to risk any additional asshole moves. "So there's something wrong with the card? The one that ends in 8921? The hotel said there was a fraud alert and--"

"Did you really think I'm going to keep paying for your shit if we're over?"

His voice is quick, biting--exactly what you'd expected from him earlier. Somehow it stings even harsher over the phone, where you feel more helpless, unable to avoid his words.

"I thought..." you wet your lips, trying to maintain your cool. "Look, my name is on them, so I thought send you my part of the payments until I can get cards in my own name."

He chuckles, low and short. "Yeah? What, you want to create a payment schedule or something?"

You fight back the annoyance in your tone. You hate having to be the bigger person, but your finances--your life--is on the line. "Yeah, actually, that'd be perfect. It wouldn't be for long. You know I'll pay them on time, I'm not looking to screw you over."

"You're going too pay me on time? For all the stuff you've bought, the stuff I’ve bought for you, this hotel room and god knows what else? How are you going to afford all that?"

He knows you recently earned a promotion at your work. He knows this, because you were so excited about it, and his half-assed congratulations over lukewarm leftovers left you feeling bitter and sad and useless. So you can't help it when bitterness seeps into your voice with your answer. "You know I just got a promotion."

"Did you?" It's said in such a casual tone that it gives you pause, but a moment later he simply hangs up on you.

Fucking. Ransom.

You shove your phone back into your purse, and the clerks at the counter are staring at you. Sweat has trickled down your back and your shirt sticks to your skin ever-so-slightly as you pull away from the pillar and approach the counter, awkward smile and cheeks hot.

"There is an issue with the card, they're working on it, so I’ll just call for a new reservation when it's fixed. I'm so sorry for the mix up!" Your voice is so peppy and high-pitched and fake and you feel like you’re back at your old job, feet aching with falling apart shoes, forced to deal with people returning old toasters laden with crumbs, calming they’d “just bought it the day before and it didn’t work.”

"Of course," the clerk says, and you know this is hotel clerk code for "You're a shitty liar."

You roll your suitcase out of the lobby with tears in your eyes and you shove your sunglasses on as soon as you've cleared the building. You feel exhausted, drained--so you use what little energy you have left to start googling for cheap motels.

**

The room smells musty. You pin the plastic sheet you’d snagged at a dollar store over the comforter and pray it will be enough to protect you from whatever is on the likely unwashed fabric. The TV is broken, there’s no WIFi, and there’s a few suspicious stains on the floor that make you wonder if this hotel has ever been featured in a porno, true crime show, or both.

But it’s all you could afford with the cash in your wallet. You only had enough cash on hand for 2 nights at a ragtag hotel that offers nightly and hourly rates. You didn’t dare use your debit card or any credit cards with Ransom’s name or information on them.

You just need some sleep. A good night’s sleep to feel renewed and ready to tackle retaking your life, bit by bit. In the morning, you need to go to the bank and withdraw your money from the joint bank account. Then you can reopen an account in your name, get a new debit card, and apply for a few credit cards afterwards.

Sure, it would have been nicer to do this without Ransom being an asshole. But deep down, you suspected he wouldn’t let you have a clean, lets-still-be-friends type of break. Not after all the times he’d pressured you into staying, manipulating you with words and gifts and promises, promises. Promises that were worth shit. 

The sheet crinkles underneath you as you scroll through your messages. You’d texted a few formerly close friends about the breakup earlier, hoping that they’d maybe want to reconnect. So far, you’d been left on read, blocked, and received only one response: “New number, who is this?”

So much for that. Not that you can blame them. There are only so many times they can rush over for a late night intervention in which you tell them every horrible thing Ransom does (he’s controlling, he doesn’t want me to meet with friends without permission, he tells me what I can and can’t wear, he cheats, he lies, he pushed me--)--before they get tired of you returning to him, again and again and again.

The only one who’d been texting you recently--okay, for the past year--had been Ransom. Mostly dick pics. And demands for you to send him something back, which you always did after a while, because you didn’t want to deal annoyed texts or voice messages accusing you of clearly cheating on him or hating him because why else wouldn’t you be willing to send him so much as a sexy selfie to your boyfriend? 

But in between those, there were conversations. Sometimes sweet ones, sometimes thoughtful ones that always made you remember why you fell hard for him in the first place. Late night conversations from when he was off on trips. You try not to wonder if he was fucking someone on each of these trips, if while you were sending him a late night ramble about a TV show and he was humoring you with jokes and quips, he was actually snuggled up with someone else. Laying in bed, naked, laughing at your dumb ass waiting at home.

The not-so-sweet conversations were ones that you had screenshotted and sent to your friends more than once, before they pulled themselves away. Texts asking where you were. Asking who you ate lunch with, and whether or not you were fucking them. Asking why your new office was connected to a certain co-worker’s, and how many blowjobs you had to give to get said new office because you didn’t tell him about the new office until after you were moved in, so you were clearly hiding him. Asking you to send him outfit pics so he could approve them or make you change if they were too slutty or not slutty enough or if you were only clearly wearing that halter dress to try to get with the bartender.

Yet your mind had always returned to the nice Ransom, the Ransom who made you laugh and squeezed you hard when had a shitty day of work and let you bury your face in his sweater as you snuggled on the couch. Maybe that’s why it took so long to leave.  You were waiting for him to stop being Ransom and start being the fantasy of Ransom you’d conjured in your head.

Your eyes feel heavy so you plug in your phone, turn the sound off, and lay down on the uncomfortable plastic sheet that crinkled over the pillows. It feels strange to lay on a lumpy mattress covered in plastic, after years of custom-made beds and memory foam pillows and all the other luxuries that Ransom was able to provide.

You try not to think about it too much. While you won’t exactly be indulging in all the luxuries you had with Ransom, but your job pays you well, and you won’t ever have to go back to living hand-to-mouth like you did before. You won’t have to worry about late bills and debt collectors and landlords who come late at night and demand inspections while you’re in your pajamas.

You have work in the morning. You have to get to the bank in the morning. Your thoughts are still buzzing with anxiety as you fall into an uneasy slumber.

**

“I’m sorry, but the account has been closed.”

You feel years of customer service training cracking underneath your skin. You can’t freak out. If you freak out, they won’t feel inclined to go the extra mile. You know this, from firsthand experience.

So you take a shaky breath. “Um, this just--it isn’t possible. It’s a joint account. I’m on the account. There was money in there, you can check--”

“I’m sorry, but the funds were transferred and account has been closed by the other account holder. There’s nothing I can do. I suggest contacting the other party in the account.”

You swallow and nod and walk away, this time having been smart enough to keep your sunglasses on to hide your humiliated expression. Why didn’t you insist on having your own account? Ransom said it was better to keep it joint, so you could just buy stuff whenever you wanted. You’d agreed because it was so generous, something you’d never thought possible at the time, when you were used to having to pay overdraft fees and cringing whenever you checked your balance.

Your fingers tremble as you bring up his contact on your phone. You tap. No answer.

You don’t have time to call him two, three, ten times--you have to get to work. So you steady your nerves. You breathe in, you breathe out. You get in your car and plug your phone in and decide to contact your lawyer. Fuck--your lawyer was Ransom's lawyer. But the anxiety eases when you remember that you’d paid him a retainer fee months ago, and Ransom couldn’t do anything about that. You could at least get a basic consult out of the retainer.

The call ringing sounds muffled through your car’s speaker but it isn’t long before someone answers, and you’re transferred to the lawyer Ransom insisted you have--gotta have a lawyer when you have money, babe--and that you hadn’t spoken to in ages.

“Hi,” you say, voice artificially bright, “this is--”

You don’t get a chance to finish.

“I know who this is.” The lawyer sounds tired, and his tone is curt and clipped. “I’m sorry. I’m no longer able to provide you with any legal counsel.”

You almost miss a red light and regret calling the office while you were driving.

“Is this about the debit card? Because I paid the retainer months ago--”

“The retainer has been refunded into the connected checking account.”

Your voice looses its artificial cheeriness and you stumble over your words in frustration. “That’s--it’s--it was a joint account, which is why I called, Ransom drained it and took everything. Isn’t there something we can do, because that was my money too and--”

“I am no longer able to provide you with legal counsel.”

You want to cry. You hate crying, as an adult. It makes you feel weak. Especially on the phone.

“I don’t understand. Why was the retainer refunded? Did--did someone call you?”

He clears his throat into the phone. “I am no longer able to provide you with legal counsel. Goodbye.”

He hangs up. Your hands shake.

You pull into the parking lot of your work and park the car and as soon as you do, you hunch yourself over the steering wheel and simply shake in frustration.

You have no bank account. Ransom drained it. You have no credit cards. Ransom blocked them. You couldn’t even talk to a lawyer, because--shock--Ransom made sure you couldn’t. Everything was in Ransom’s name. He insisted on adding you to his accounts, closing out your own paltry ones; insisted that he pay off your credit card debt, and making you close those, too, instead adding you to his cards. It was all to help you out, he said, at the time.

Wasn’t it? He was shockingly not judgmental about the state of your finances, and while you’d put up some protest, you didn’t exactly argue with him when he suggested wiping your debts clean and getting your credit back up. And considering that he wasn’t immune to needing a bail-out now and then (late night calls to his grandfather, snarky comments at his parent’s dinner table, come to mind) maybe he could sympathize with being in over your head. Even if your issues were rooted in poverty and shitty jobs and his were rooted in a total lack of financial discipline and, as you’d later found out, a drug addiction.

Still. He helped you before. He would help you now, once he realized how serious it was. For now he was just--reacting like an asshole, acting childish and ridiculous. He was an asshole. You know this. You’ve known this. You need to call him and meet with him and make him realize how ridiculous he’s being, and he’ll sigh and snark but he’ll agree to stop acting like such an ass.

But first you have to work. Life goes on. Even without Ransom--even with Ransom, screwing you over out of pettiness.

The air conditioning in the lobby is on blast, and the familiar smell of clean furniture and floor cleaner from the late-night cleaning crew is surprisingly comforting. Here, you can forget about Ransom--forget about the cards and the lawyer and the fact that your life has been upended in mere hours. If only until your lunch break, at least.

Anthony is working the front desk and you give him a a soft, if strained smile. There’s something in the smile that he gives you in return that reminds you of the hotel clerk. Sympathetic and judgmental.

Ah. You probably look like--well, less than your best, you realize. You did pack some toiletries in your suitcase but the water in the motel had streaks of brown and you didn’t shower, opting instead to rinse your face with what was left of a water bottle you’d bought earlier and layering on more deodorant to make up for the lack of a proper scrub. You probably looked a bit tired, haggard, not unlike some of the employees who got stuck with big clients the night before their paperwork was due.

Still. Nothing that freshening up in your private bathroom--thank god for the new office--can’t help. So you hit the button on the elevator and take deep breaths as you ride up, intent on working as productively as possible. The doors open and you navigate the familiar maze of open-plan desks for the lower-tier workers, desks surrounded by half-walls that always kept you staring straight ahead, lest you accidentally glance over and see a co-worker picking their nose.

Yet as you weave in-and-out of the familiar rows, heading towards the back of the room where the real offices, the ones with full walls and doors and privacy glass lay, you can’t help but feel that something is… off. 

No one calls out to greet you, though that can be easily attributed to the jealousy over your promotion. You’d been working there for far less than most of the lower level workers--Ransom got you the job, with his connections and a hefty revision of your resume and, you assume, some personal phone calls--and you’d already been promoted to senior management. That wasn’t technically Ransom’s work, though. That was all your own effort, your own blood, sweat, tears and intense devotion to each project that came your way. Sure, the connections he helped you make, the dinner parties, all that helped--but if it weren’t for your skills, the connections wouldn’t have made a difference. Right? 

Still, whatever bitterness existed in the people hunch in open-air cubicles, the receptionists always greeted you. But today they caught your eye then awkwardly glanced down, or pretended to be looking for something in their drawers. It was odd. Did you look that bad? That out of sorts?

You shake off the heavy feeling in your stomach and for once, you shut the door to your office instead of keeping it open for passers-by or people needing approval for this-and-that. It feels good to lean against the solid wood door and take a breath, a deep one, invigorating and calming.

A quick trip to the bathroom has you staring at yourself from all angles. You don’t look that bad, you reason. Just tired. But who wouldn’t be, sleeping on a plastic sheet in the shittiest motel in the area? You take a quick sniff under your arms but even that reveals nothing much but a faint hint of sweat and powdery deodorant.

There’s a firm knock at your office door and you glance at the mirror for a final once over before opening it up. It’s your boss. Did you have a meeting? You try to do a mental scan of something you’ve missed, but nothing comes to mind.

“Hi,” you say, wavering with uncertainty at the threshold. Should you invite him in? “What can I do for you? We didn’t have a meeting, did we?” You let yourself chuckle, dry and quick. “I’m sorry, I’m a bit scattered this morning.”

Your boss doesn’t return your chuckle, which immediately raises the hairs on the back of your neck. Something was wrong. Shit--you were working on a major project for a seriously important client. The type of client that could genuinely make or break a company, if you got on their bad side. You press your lips together and make a silent vow to keep it serious.

“I’d like to keep this conversation private.” His tone is low and serious and you invite him in without a second thought, shutting the thick door behind you, trying to ignore the way everyone was shooting glances as it closed. Fuck, fuck, fuck, your thoughts race--no wonder everyone was giving you the stink eye. Something was wrong with the client, and you were the one making primary contact with them.

Your boss takes a seat on the leather sofa pushed up against the wall and you immediately set yourself down behind your desk.

He sighs. Short. Frustrated. Annoyed.

“We have to let you go.”

The words don’t register.

“Go where?”

It’s only after you say it that you realize what he said, what it meant, and you feel like a colossal moron in every respect.

“It’s not working out,” he continues, staring at your desk and not at your face. “Since you’ve only been in this position for a month, you don’t quality for senior severance. The best we can do is to pay you what you’ve earned this week.”

Your mouth is so dry that you don’t know if you can talk. Your hand fumbles on your desk for a water bottle you’d left overnight, and that’s when you see it--the photo frame. You keep a photo of yourself and Ransom, cuddled together for a selfie, on your desk. The photo was lying on your desk, frameless, ripped in half--leaving only your vacantly smiling face staring up at you.

Ransom was here.

“Did he put you up to this?” You whisper. “Did Ransom tell you to fire me?”

You know he won’t answer. But you stare at him so fervently that he can’t help but look up at you, and you see it all in his eyes, in the subtle, embarrassed expression of his face.

You can imagine Ransom strolling in--maybe he called first--and settling in for a private audience with your boss in his office. He’d probably pull the chair up to the desk and put his feet on it, just to be an ass. Then he’d bring up… you. And why you had to be let go. Did he give a reason, did he tell your boss why a respected employee who he once secured a position for, who shot up the ranks through intense effort and work, needed to be fired? Did he even need to give a reason?

“This is absolute bullshit,” you say, finally, voice dry and hoarse and bitter. You want to say you’ll be contacting a lawyer. That this won’t stand. But you know--and he knows--that there’s nothing you can do.

Your boss stands, slow, and sighs again. “I’m sorry it had to end this way. Pack up your things as quickly as possible.”

He leaves, and you keep your eyes trained on the ripped photograph to avoid seeing the expressions of the people in the doorway before your boss mercifully shuts the door.

It takes all of your effort not to cry.

You don’t have much effort left.

**

Your things consisted of a handful of personal items, little touches you’d brought in to make your office feel more like “you.” A nice picture print. A pastel afghan to drape over the couch. A stapler with a floral design. You have the strong urge to dump them in a trash can, but that’s quickly quelled by the realization that you can’t afford to buy new things, or any things, at this point.

You don’t care if wearing your sunglasses as you power walk to the elevators makes you look stupid. You know someone, somewhere in this office is filming you and probably captioning it with something stupid to post to their Reels or TikTok, and it just makes you leave faster. A few people murmur comments your way, sympathetic in tone, but you’re not really listening. None of their platitudes matter, because Ransom was here, in your workplace, in your office, and he stole the thing you were most proud of from under your feet.

To his credit, when you reach the bottom floor, Anthony practically fumbles out from behind his desk and holds the door open for you. He mouths a “Sorry” and he probably is, but he’s probably used to dealing with rich assholes like Ransom who get what they want, when they want it; even when what they want is to fire a good employee on demand for very personal reasons.

The sun is beating down hard, even for the morning, and the stress of your situation makes you blast the air conditioning as soon as you get in the car. God, the car--how are you going to afford the payments? You wish you could call your mom. You wish your friends--are they even your friends, anymore?--would call you back.

You grab your phone from your purse and stare at the black screen. Maybe you should call the friend who didn’t block you. She would answer, if you called, because she knew you didn’t make calls unless it was serious. She might not rush to your side, but maybe she can offer you a place to stay, a couch, some advice. A kind word would do, right now, with how much anxiety and frustration has been packed into the last 12 hours.

But when you unlock your screen, your gut sinks. Five missed calls. From the storage company. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You tap their number and bring the phone to your ear and pretend that your hands aren’t shaking.

The man who answers is the same one you talked to on the phone before, when setting up your move. “Hello, Move’nSecure Storage Company. This is Steve speaking. How many I help you?”

“Hi Steve!” You hate how chipper you sound. “I actually just got a few missed calls from you guys, I’m sorry, I was in the office and--”

“Oh.” His voice is surprisingly flat, suddenly flat, losing its customer service inflection in an instant before picking it back up. “Yes. We’ve been trying to reach you. For confirmation, the storage locker your purchased is A443, correct?”

You fumble in your purse for the receipt and confirm the little numbers printed neatly on the paper. “Yes, A443. Is everything okay?”

“No, it’s not.” You’re grateful that you didn’t have much for breakfast because you know it would be clawing its way back up at this point. “The card you gave us for the storage fee was declined.”

The debit card. You’d paid in cash for the move, and paid for 1 month of storage with the card. The card that was now useless, connected to an empty and closed bank account.

“Is there another card you can give us?”

“No, but...” You say, because no, there is not. There is not a card. There is not a job. There is nothing. “But if you could just hold my stuff, I’ll be there in less than a hour to get it.”

“We don’t hold items,” Steve tells you, a rehearsed banality to his tone. “Your items are currently outside the unit.”

You instinctively want to yell at Steve but, fuck fuck fuck, you’ve been there, behind the counter, dealing with people who couldn’t pay for shit and then had the nerve to get upset with you. “All of it?” You ask, your voice cracking slightly.

“Yes.”

You hang up, and toss your phone onto the passenger seat. The quicker you get there, the less chance that something will get broken or stolen or who knows what else.

The trip to the storage unit seems to take forever, and when you arrive you don’t even take a second to lock your car doors. Instead you sprint inside, startling Steve--looking at his phone, then at you, then at the sign plastered up on the wall leading to the storage locker floors. He points. Row A, separated into 100s, 200s, 300s, and--your number--400s.

You don’t remember if you say ‘thank you,’ because you’re speed-walking down the hallway and following the signs and it isn’t long before you see it: a storage locker with tons of stuff piled up, dumped, outside the now-empty unit where it was supposed to be safe and sound. Waiting for you to get an apartment and pick it back up and rearrange it into your new life, your new “you.”

The problem is immediate: You can’t fit all this in your car. You don’t know anyone who could take the stuff for you. You mind reels for options and the only thing you can come up with is ferrying your belongings to and from the hotel. You can pay for a few more days once you cash your partial paycheck. After that… you don’t know.

Pawn your things? Yeah. That might work. You can get enough cash by pawning most of your stuff, the good stuff. Enough money to get you into a shitty apartment with leaks and a bad landlord. Then you can a job that barely pays rent and you’ll be right back where you started, before you met Ransom. Before you thought leaking ceilings and $20 paychecks after taxes were a thing of the past.

You ignore the humiliation that makes your stomach curl as you take your things out to the car, handful by handful. Steve doesn’t bother holding the door open for you. You mention that you’re going to be back on your way out, and he offers a non-committal hum.

At least when you get to the hotel, the owner sees you fumbling with boxes and offers to help you out. It takes less time with two hands to get everything in the room, and once it’s locked up you head back out to the storage units.

You keep your sunglasses on for the second trip into the storage unit, even though you don’t know Steve or care what he thinks. He doesn’t look up when you walk in and it’s just as well, since you’re only heading back to the A-400s and don’t need his non-existent help.

But the sight that greets you when you round the corner to your unpaid-for storage locker makes your blood run cold.

Your stuff is gone. All of it.

You rush back to the desk, where Steve does look up, startled by your urgency.

“My stuff,” you spit out, “My stuff is gone! Someone took it!”

Steve shrugs. “Sorry.” He points to a sign behind him: “We are not responsible for the loss of items inside or outside storage lockers.”

“Are you fucking kidding?” You can’t the anger in your voice this time. “You just watched someone walk off with my stuff and didn’t say anything?”

Steve raises his eyebrows. “If it was that important, you shouldn’t have left it here. Or you should have given us another card.”

You feel like throwing your hands up but you just clench your fist and storm out the door, huffing as you reach your car. The anger melts into the sense of loss, the realization that you only have a few meager items that you’d managed to collect; you picked the lightest stuff, first. And in retrospect it was things that didn’t matter much at all. Clothes. Hair supplies. Makeup. You should have grabbed the box with your USB sticks, your memory cards, your photo albums; your personal mementos and sentimental shit. Instead you grabbed the box with your shampoo.

At least the clothes might get something in a pawnshop. The makeup, too, on Facebook or Depop or Instagram. But it wouldn’t be enough to put you up in an apartment. You’ll have to live in your car. Until they repossess it for lack of payment.

You don’t have your bank account, your credit cards, your job, a place to stay, or your personal possessions. And soon, you won’t have your car.

You have no friends. No boyfriend. No family.

All you have $20 left in your wallet and well, fuck it. You grab some McDonalds on the way home because, fuck it, and eat all the fries before you make it to the motel. The thought of eating in your dirty room makes your stomach turn and you decide to eat everything else you bought, the burger and the shake and the chicken nuggets too, tossing the wrappers on the floor. It feels like deja vu--getting cheap fast food to make you feel full, tossing trash on the floor of the passenger seat, all bringing back the way you used to when you’d grab something from the dollar menu on your way to work at the call center.

You almost wish you could stay at this hotel, brown water and all. The owner is decently nice. He smiles at you when you enter and doesn’t bring up that you didn’t come back with more boxes, like you said you would.  

You’re surprised at how grateful you feel for the dingy hotel room now that you won’t be able to stay here more than another day. Now that the alternative is sleeping in your car, then sleeping on the street, if you were lucky.

Your phone feels heavy when you set it on the table and stare at the home screen. Another photo of you and Ransom stares back up at you. You haven’t had time to change it up yet. He’s grinning. You’re smiling. It’s a good photo. You try to place it in your memory, try to remember what beach that was, but your trips blur together and you can’t.

Should you call him? If it was just the cards, just him being petty over credit and finances, it was one thing. You could try to placate him with returning gifts, just asking him to give you what you put in from your own paychecks. But making you lose your job? It was too far, too fucking far. And there was no going back from that. Fuck, someone was probably moving into your office as you sat in this dimly lit room mourning the loss of your entire life.

For a brief, very fleeting moment, you consider calling Harlan. You weren’t exceptionally close, but he seemed to like you well enough. He’d even asked you once, puling you aside at a tension-filled family party, if Ransom treated you right, told you to tell him if he ever got to be too much. Harlan felt like Ransom’s keeper--in more ways than one. You could never tell Harlan about the shouts or the occasional bruises from when Ransom really, really lost his temper--it’s not like you could prove them, anyway, as Ransom made sure to keep you away from his family when he lost control like that. No need for excuses about running into doors when he made sure you looked your best at family functions.

But the thought of breaking the uneasy stasis that Ransom had with the most significant member of his family made you want to vomit. There would be no coming back from that, and you knew better than to cross any line involving the great Harlan Thrombey.

You could call your friend--ex-friend? The one who didn’t block you or forget your number. You should. No, you will. Because what else do you have to lose.

But before you can bring up her number, you get a text--Ransom. It’s a photo and your curiosity gets the better of you as you click the notification.

“What the fuck?”

He’s sent you a photo of his car, trunk open. It’s filled with boxes, odds-and-ends. It’s filled with your stuff.

You text him: What??

He texts back: Hey. I’m in front of the hotel. Come out? Bring your suitcase. :P

It’s your stuff. It’s his car. He’s here. All reason is thrown aside as you grab your suitcase and purse and rush down the hallway, ignoring the owner’s confused response from behind his desk as you push open the front doors and look around the parking lot.

His car is parked to the side, not in front of the hotel’s glass double doors. He’s standing outside his car, leaning against it. He takes off his sunglasses and tucks them in his pocket when he sees you approaching, face confused and fuming all at once.

“What the fuck, Ransom, what the fuck is your problem--”

“Hey, hey,” he says, hands up in defense, “You’re not even going to thank me for picking up your stuff?”

You feel suddenly, impossibly rooted to the spot.

“What do you--what? You took my stuff?”

He shrugs. “C’mon, did you really think I’d just leave your stuff in some shitty storage unit? Someone would’ve taken it if I didn’t get there first.”

You swallow. “Why?” You ask, because Ransom never does anything for no reason. Or so you’ve learned.

His expression loses a bit of its cocky casualness. He tilts his head a bit, looking at you as if you’ve asked a particularly offensive question.

“Why do you think?”

To lord it over you? To make you think your stuff was gone and make you worried, sick, crazy?

“I don’t know,” is what you settle for in the end. “I really, really don’t. You--” You lick your lips, and try to calm down, calm the pitter-patter of your heart, and think before you speak. “You’ve done some pretty messed up stuff today. My job?” The last question comes out soft and pained, and you know your eyes are starting to tear up.

“Hey.” His voice is soft and placating and it makes your stomach flip as he approaches you, standing there on the sidewalk with your purse and suitcase. “Hey, c’mon. Don’t cry on me.”

You know this Ransom. The Ransom that holds you and pets your hair and offers to get Thai food delivered even though he doesn’t like it just to make you happy.

He puts his hand on your shoulder and you jerk it away. “Don’t.” That Ransom is a fantasy. Or an incomplete version, the version that pretends he doesn’t lie and cheat and hurt you in more ways than one. “Don’t you fucking dare, especially not after what you pulled today. My job? My job, Ransom? You’re a--a fucking asshole.”

He puts his hands up again, defensive, and takes a step back. But he doesn’t return to his car, and stays just a few steps in front of you.

“Look. Call me an asshole. Sure, fine, I can admit that. But do you know what else I am?”

He waits a beat, waits for you to look at him, before he continues. “I’m a realist. I like facts. And the fact is? You aren’t much without me. No job, no credit cards, no bank account. Without me, you’re just some broke chick scrambling to get an apartment in the shittiest part of town, working a dead-end job that don’t pay shit. With me though…. “

He leaves the words unfinished, but you know what he means. Flashes of your life, cocktails and smart business outfits and dinners at restaurants you didn’t even dream about attending before you met him. Phone calls with shakers in the industry and social media requests from people you’d never dream you’d meet. Connections that meant something, a career path, dinner parties with people who could offer tangible benefits to your career and your life.

It wasn’t that he spoiled you. He wasn’t a sugar daddy. You weren’t getting gifts for blowjobs. It was that his presence in your life boosted you, socially, financially, mentally, physically, in every which way possible.

His presence got you a job that you loved, which meant you weren’t burnt out when you came home, which meant that you had the time and energy to spend hours catching up on books or redecorating the house or watching movies. Good money meant you could order in whenever you felt like it, meant you didn’t have to worry if you burned dinner because you could just buy new steaks or order-in or go out, last minute, and still get a great table. It meant you had all the clothes you wanted, stylish and personally tailored; it meant you had easy access to a gym and exercise equipment and an indoor pool to keep you healthy. It meant you had a life that provided comfort in every way possible.

Being with Ransom Drysdale was like… like a little shot of privilege directly into your arm.

Privilege that he took away just as easily as he gave it. Just as easily as you took it. Just as easily as you took it and eagerly ignored the dark side underneath. Or maybe you didn’t ignore it. Maybe you liked it, maybe it reminded you of who you were underneath the designer clothes and expensive dinners.

Maybe you wanted to fix him, like he fixed you? He wasn’t totally bad, after all, he did make sure no one took your belongings. Maybe it was your presence that gave him the idea for that touch of sympathy, maybe with Ransom change was slow and muddled, not picture-perfect sweeping changes like the kind in movies.

“So?” Ransom’s voice cuts through your thoughts. “Are you going to come home or,” he waves his hands around dismissively, at the hotel, at you.

You feel very, very less-than right now. You look awful, your hair mussy and your makeup mostly melted off with sweat and sun. You probably smell more than you normally do, thanks to the lack of a shower. Your muscles, sore from the motel bed, ache for the large spa bathtub that Ransom had installed in the master bathroom just for you, stocked with bubbles and salts and overpriced bath bombs that were $10 a pop.

But your muscles had hurt before, when he pushed you against the dresser.

You have nothing, and no one. Except Ransom. Ransom who didn’t judge you when you instinctively saved plastic bottles and boxes, but merely nudged you towards recycling and took you out to splurge on a reusable water bottle and proper storage containers the next day. Ransom who asked you what sort of job you wanted, really wanted, and made it happen for you. Ransom who shrugged and wiped away your credit card debt without making you feel like shit.

Ransom who didn’t let you leave the house if your wrists were sporting fingerprint shaped bruises. Ransom who argued with you about talking to men, even men at work. Ransom who held you tight at night and said he never wanted to let you go, and wouldn’t you just make a fine-ass addition his crazy family. Ransom who took care of you, now that you had no one else.

“What do you want me to do?” The words feel slow, sluggish. Like they wanted to stick to the roof of your mouth and it took everything in you to get them out.

His voice turns low and serious as he stares at you with an characteristic expression. “Well, the first thing is to get down on your knees…”

You feel your eyes practically bugging out.

“What the fuck, Ransom?”

He laughs. He always did have a nice laugh.

“I’m just messing with you, Jesus. Take a chi-I-il pill. Just grab your purse and come sit your sweet ass in the front seat. Let’s go get some burgers, I’m starving.”

Your legs feel like jelly when you take that first step, and the sound of your roller suitcase as you pull it along seems louder than ever. Ransom pops the truck and you just manage to fit it inside with the handle closed, jamming it in between some boxes at an odd angle. The handle of the passenger side is familiar, warm from the sun.

You open the door and practically shove yourself into the seat, closing the door as fast as possible. You can’t do more than glance at him as humiliation and anxiety and just the smallest bit of relief washes over you. It’s been less than 24 hours since you broke up, and here you are--again.

He’s staring at you quietly, his expression difficult to place. He looks relieved. He looks annoyed. He looks like he wants to kiss you. He looks like he wants to slap you. Maybe he wants to do it all at once and can’t decide which to pick.

Instead, he puts his hand on your thigh. Gives it a squeeze. Hard, bordering on painful.  He’s staring straight ahead, at the worn-out sign on the hotel’s front door, one hand gripping the flesh of your thigh. He looks good in profile. “Don’t ever try to pull something like that again. I mean it. I really mean it.”

You turn, glance out the window, familiar tears at the edge of your eyes.

“I won’t,” you whisper, dreaming of the tub and bubbles and how good a warm soak will feel on your back, on your thighs, on your soul.

“Good girl,” he says, patting your thigh firmly. He plucks his sunglasses out of pocket and puts them on in a smooth motion. The car starts smoothly, its fine-tuned and expensive engine a familiar sound, and your hands feel robotic as you pull the seatbelt over your chest and click it tight.

“Let’s get dinner and get home. You have some unpacking to do.”

[vanillann]

5 star conversation (reggie peters x reader)

I SAW THIS REQUEST AND SCREAMED I WAS SO EXCITED!!

word count: 4.9k (i can’t believe i wrote that much omg)

5 star conversation masterlist

place one: a 1 star motel

“I can’t believe this!”

Julie and I gave each other warnings look as he leaned against each other. That was Flynn’s “Something is going wrong and it’s the other person's fault” yell, and with how stressful the bus ride was I could tell this was worse.

“What’s wrong?” Reggie leaned over in his chair, his hood covering his face as we hid from camera flashes in the corner of the fancy hotel.

Julie shrugged, looking back to her phone and the Instagram edits of the band she had been tagged in.

“Guys, guys,” Alex did a awkward jog as he came back from the bathroom, the iconic pink hoodie pulled over his head and the front of his baseball hat sticking out.

“What?”

“I don’t think we have rooms,” Alex fell back beside Luke, his anxiety radiating from one person to another.

“Huh?”

We’ve had the tour planned out for months, each state planned and perfectly laid out for the perfect amount of work and play. There wasn’t a chance that we didn’t have the room for tonight, impossible.

“Flynn is too smart for that,” I leaned back, ignoring the way Reggie still leaned forward while his elbows on his knees watching me. It was weird, I knew it was Reggie but the way he sat and the fact I couldn’t see his face made it feel like a different person.

“(Y/N) right, Flynn way to put together for that,” Julie brushed off, hitting my shoulder to show me the edit she had found. It was of Reggie and I from a few shows ago, Flynn had been taking videos to help keep the fan active on us and she caught a video of Reggie and I fake rocking out on the empty stage.

It moved from that to a picture of Reggie and me in the costume store for the Halloween show, little fairy-like hearts floating around us. I smiled at the thought, grabbing Julie’s phone and sending the edit to me.

“Well, we don’t have rooms,” Flynn walked back, not giving any warning as she collapsed on top of Julie and I.

“I told you!”

Alex stood up, pointing his finger between Julie and I, a little smirk forming before he realized the weight of the words.

“What happened?”

“They didn’t tell me that rooms held for over 2 months have to be reinstated two week before or they cancel it,” Flynn didn’t move, laying over Julie and I with a broken spirit.

“I was looking forward to sleeping in a room, those bed’s on the bus suck,” Luke crossed his arms and pouted, looking like a kicked puppy.

“I don’t mind them,” Reggie smiled, bouncing in his seat slightly.

“It’s because you’d never fallen off the top,” Alex bit back, still mad about the sharp turns that have sent him flying the last few nights.

Flynn finally moved off Julie and I, saying nothing as she typed away on her phone. She walked away without another word, looking us back in the corner with hoods up.

I played with the sleeves of my own hoodie that had the new Julie and the Pathoms merch sketch.

“Oh look at this one!”

Julie showed me her phone again, this time a thirst trap edit. Her excitement bought the boys attention to us, all moving to look over my shoulder at the edit.

It started with a few of Julie with her amazing stage gear and a few photos from her instagram, neon letters over her head read “The Singer''. Then jumped to the few videos and pictures of Flynn that Julie and I would post behind her back, this time the neon letters read “The Manager''. Next was my face, bright smiles and a few of me backstage with an old Sunset Curve tee and sweat rolling down my back, the words said “The Designer ''.

I read the caption, smiling at “They carry the band” and laughing as the guys talked about the story behind each photo.

“I took the one of you in my old shirt,” Reggie smiled, staying beside me with his arm around the back of my seat. I did my best to ignore the butterflies, which became easy when Flynn came back with a smile.

“I found a motel across the street that will take us,” she spoke with pride, rightfully so as she saved us from another night on that bus.

“Oh I love you,” Alex jumped up, his arms wrapping around Flynn in a heartbeat. Julie smiled, standing up and putting the phone in the pocket of her hoodie.

“Come on, up,” Reggie jumped up, holding a hand up from me as I had started to slip down in my seat. I smiled, taking his cold hands and standing completely up with a smile.

“Thank you Reginald,” I winked, following the others as we made our way to the front of the hotel. I could already hear the crowd waiting for us, their cameras probably at the ready to take some pictures of the uprising band.

“Hoods up soldiers,” Luke announced, keeping Julie close as they were already openly in a relationship so nothing too bad could be made out of them. Alex stood in front of me, Flynn close behind as Reggie was an inch behind me.

I said nothing when I felt a small hand on my back, too caught up in the loud voices and the calling of our names.

“(Y/N)! Is it true you are jealous of the band!”

“(Y/N), Did you sleep with lead singer Luke even with him dating Julie?”

“Are the rumors of Reggie and you true?”

I was thankful we had made it cross the sidewalk when a large bus cut them all off, giving up enough time to make it to the motel without a problem. I was thankful once we made it inside but not for long as I took the place in.

The plants in the corner were dead, the desk was dusty and the couches looked to be from the 1800′s, not the good kind.

“How many stars does this place have?”

“Uhm, 4?” Flynn voiced jumped up, saying nothing to us as she walked up and dinged the bell on the front desk. I rolled my eyes, pulling out my phone and opening it to Google.

“What are you goggling?”

“Google, and this motel,” I corrected Reggie, doing a quick search of my location and found the name of the rusty place. When I saw the rating I almost screamed.

“This place just barely has one star!”

“What,” Luke ran from the random statue he was messing with to my side, tugging the phone so he could read the reviews.

“Apparently they had a rat in a bed once,” I spoke, reading over the words in horror.

“Nope, I’ll stay on the bus,” Alex let his hands fall to his side, walking back to the door before he noticed that the camera flashes had almost doubled and no way he could make it out without a panic attack.

“Evening.”

When I heard the vile voice I jumped into Reggie's side without thinking, looking up at the older man who was looking Flynn up and down like meat.

“I need six room,” Flynn didn’t waste time, holding the credit card in between her fingers as she did her best not to be a coward.

“He looks like the witch from Hansel and Gretel,” I whispered into Reggie’s ear, ignoring the way his arm seemed to drift to my waist.

“I don’t know how that is but I agree.”

“We only have only three rooms, little lady,” the man spoke, reaching for the credit card before Flynn moved it out of reach.

“You told me on the found you had six,” Flynn bit back, I admired her confidence in this moment as everyone was slowly losing there the longer we stood in this lobby.

“The paparazzi will have fun with this,” Julie reached my side, looking over her shoulder and the few shots they could get through the windows of the dusty place.

“Got that right.”

“Fine, will bunk up,” Flynn gave up with the man, it wasn’t any use and we were all tired of setting up the stage and soundcheck today. I had spent hours hunched over the computer trying to get the mercy drop reaching tomorrow morning, my back sore and my head hurting.

The man passed Flynn the keys, after she watched him closely to make sure he didn’t charge us extra. She walked over to us, obviously annoyed but calming down the closer she got to us, she knew how to manage her anger until it was only Julie and I around.

“Julie and I will take one room, Alex and (Y/N) will take another-'' I smiled as Alex was my go-to room partner.

“-And Luke and Reggie got the last,” Flynn started handing out keys when Luke started to pout.

“Last time I slept in the same room as Reggie he talked the entire night,” Luke pointed at Reggie, causing the boy beside me to frown.

“You sleep talk? I’ve never heard it,” I shrugged and looked at Luke who was confident that “Reggie sleep talks”.

“Why can’t I take Alex and (Y/N) take Reggie?”

This felt so out of character for Luke, he never missed an opportunity to hang out with Reggie, they always bunked together. It was weird how everyone agreed, which felt even more out of character.

“Okay it’s settled,” I wanted to say something, as a night in a room alone with Reggie would be horrible for my crush, but I didn’t want Reggie to think nobody wanted to bunk with him.

Reggie shrugged, taking our key from Flynn and grabbing my go-bag I’d set on the ground of the dirty motel.

“I’ll get our bags, I know you’ll sit with Fylnn and Julie before you come up,” he didn’t sound mad or upset, he was smiling widely as he skipped to the elevator before stopping halfway through and going to the stairs instead.

“What a gentleman,” Luke winked at me, smirking between the group as if he had done something.

That’s when it hit me, he had done something.

“Oh, you liar,” I pointed my finger at Luke’s chest, my pout similar to his earlier as I looked up to someone I called a close friend, basically family.

“I did nothing of the sort, he did talk all night last time we bunked together but it was because we decided we wanted to pull an all-nighter,” Luke shrugged, looking at the other three in the loony, all smiling at me.

“You’re all vile people,” I spoke, looking to Alex who wanted to laugh so bad by the look on his face.

“And you, why would you do this to me?”

“Because I’m so tired of Reggie and you dancing around each other,” Alex gave me a stern look, making me deflate slightly but that didn’t stop me.

“We do not,” the group finally started to move again, since Reggie would already be in the room and we didn’t want him suspicious.

“Oh no, you’re the liar now,” Luke sang over my shoulder, grabbing his and Julie’s bag, Alex getting him and reaching for Flynn bag who insisted she had it.

“His hands were all over you this morning on the bus,” Julie jumped in, grabbing my shoulders and leading me through the stairway.

“He was teaching me how to play bass,” I crossed my arm, knowing this conversation wasn’t going anywhere.

“Reggie never lets anyone touch his bass!”

I rolled my eyes, they were all insane at this point.

“The reason there are so many ship edits of you guys is that you give them so much to work with,” Flynn said from the front of the group, a kick in her step about the entire idea.

“It’s because fans are crazy,” we had finally made it to the third floor, opening the door and all walking into the smelly hallways.

“It smells like a pack of cigarettes,” I almost coughed as I spoke, watching Reggie’s back open the door and slide into our room.

“You coming to sit with us?”

“No, I’m mad at you all,” I frown, but none of my friends worried as I’d forgive in the morning because they were impossible to stay mad at.

“Suit yourself, also he didn’t have any two bedrooms so have fun sharing a bed,” Flynn gave me a sweet kiss on the cheek and skipped to her and Julie’s room.

“I’ll kill you,” I yelled at Flynn as she walked into her room, Julie giving a sweet waver over her shoulder.

“I wonder if they have a mini-fridge,” Luke spoke, opening the door as the two boys gave me an exciting wave as if they weren’t making my life harder.

“(Y/N)? Why are you yelling?”

I looked down a door or two to see Reggie leaning against the doorframe of our room with a white tee and black and red plaid pajama pants.

He was going to be the death of me.

“Uhm, Fylnn told me they didn’t have a breakfast bar,” I did my best to lie, smiling as I made my way to the door Reggie leaned against, his little smile made me feel light and fluffy.

“I’ll get us one of the Ubers to take us to that little diner on the corner,” Reggie smiled, not moving from the doorframe once I reached it.

I didn’t want to slide past him but I did, doing my best not to come in contact with him as that may just make it worse but luckily he moved back so that didn’t happen.

“Thank god, I like the layout of it.”

I saw the single Queen bed in the center of my room and my heart broke as I thought about Fylnn’s words, she wasn’t just trying to get under my skin.

“Yeah, I know you love dinners that look like they are from the 50s.”

My heart shouldn’t have been on fire because of his words but it 100% was. He remembered those little quirks and it started to make me feel light-headed.

“Yeah they’re my favorite,” I smiled over my shoulder, reaching for my bag I had packed for the night in the motel, luckily bought my sleep stuff and asleep attire.

“There was one by my house back in the 90s, it was right out of that movie you had me watched,” Reggie fell back on the left side, leaving the right side open for me.

He knew what freaking side of the bed I slept on, I was going to combust.

“Grease,” I ignored the way his arms bulged as he laid them behind his hand, looking up at me as I looked through my bag for a few more things.

“Yeah that one, I think I should do my hair like David-“

“Danny,” I corrected as I made my way to the bathroom, leaving the door cracked so I could keep the conversation but still closed enough so I wasn’t worried about Reggie seeing me.

“Oh yeah, I should do my hair like him.” I smiled to myself, imagining Reggie dancing around as a Danny from Grease, the excitement he would have.

I tried not to think about how hot he’d look with his hair slick back.

“Do it for Halloween next year,” I spoke up, splashing water on my face to make me feel a little calmer.

“But I thought we would do a matching costume?”

I was going to scream and cry if he didn’t stop acting like the perfect boy. How do you lie because Reggie Freaking Peters and not fall in love with him?

“You could be Sandy!”

I felt myself smile again, looking down at the short and long shirt I had stolen from Alex that sat on top of the toilet.

“You can have red lipstick and those leather pants,” he sounded like a child that was just given candy, he was jumping just at the thought of the costume together.

“The fans would love it,” maybe it wasn’t the best idea to bring them up, but I couldn’t stop myself from saying it.

“They would! They’d probably talk about how cool you look for months,” I finally got the shirt over my head, looking at myself in the mirror, my nerves calming the longer the conversation went on.

Reggie wouldn’t make this awkward on purpose, I knew that.

“Yeah, but they’d like us matching. They wouldn’t let the dating rumor die though”, I stepped out from the bathroom, careful not to hit the creaking floorboard I found earlier.

“Oh, I didn’t think about that,” I watched his face fall and maybe my heart broke a little, but it was probably better. If it didn’t I would have possibly let this crush grow more and more and I didn’t need that.

“Eh, I don’t really care what the fans think.”

Heart please don’t explode, you have a merch drop tomorrow.

“Must be nice,” I fell back on the bed, laying the same way as Reggie as we looked at the ceiling that could probably fall in any second now.

“Why do you care?”

I watched him flip on his stomach out of the corner of my eye, him watching me but my eyes didn’t leave the ceiling.

“They just like making rumors with people that aren’t in the band sometimes more than the ones in the band. You four are more open than Flynn and I so they can only make so many rumors, but Flynn and I,” I trailed off, not knowing if he wanted this conversation to get too emotional.

“Yeah I noticed that, I mean you're cheating with Luke!”

I laughed at this tone, that definitely was a real crazy one that just started.

“I literally hit him in the head with the mic stand yesterday and kept walking and people think we’re dating”, I laugh at the afterthought, Luke's face when the mic stand went by his face. He was fine, but I didn’t have time to help him up and he understood that.

“That was great to watch, I haven’t seen Luke that confused since we landed here,” I spotted his show stopping smile in the corner of my eye.

“He’s a mess that’s why.”

“All three of us are a mess, without you, Julie, and Flynn we would be dead.”

“You’re already dead,” I tried to keep a straight face but as soon as I looked at Reggie my giggles filled the room, a hand on my stomach as I rolled over slightly.

“You’re horrible! You’re laughing at my death!”

I kept laughing, looking over at him a few times but it only caused me to laugh harder.

“I can’t believe I was excited to have a sleepover with you,” he had a goofy smile on his face as he watched me roll around.

“You 're excited,” I was finally calming down, trying to blame my racing heart on laughing.

“Yeah!”

He was so confident in his answer it felt like he meant it, like he wasn’t just being nice or just happy to be close with his friend.

Reggie liked being with people, he was a people person, and I was a person.

“I was excited too.”

Wow (Y/N) don’t you love your loud mouth.

He looked around my face, his eyes tracing my features with a smile painted across his face. I was shocked someone could be so happy like looked at me, but he did and it felt nice.

It was creepy or uncomfortable, nothing with Reggie ever was. He made everything feel easy, and maybe that’s why he has plagued my thoughts for so long.

“We should head to bed,” I could speak above a whisper with the way he was looking at me, the way his eyes traced my nose and my eyes.

“Yeah.”

We didn’t move, just watching each other as if it was supposed to be sleep for us. I wasn’t tired watching him like this, how could I be tired when he made me feel more alive than ever.

The loud knock on the door brought me out of my trace, my fear of what could be at the door had me moving closer to Reggie without thinking.

I felt the side of the move, Reggie slowly walking to the moldy wooden door with the small peep hole, or more like someone put a nail though and took it out.

He looked through it, reading to each for the candlestick before he rolled his eyes and swung open the door. Alex stood with an awkward smile, doing an odd dance before smiling at Reggie and I.

“Alex?”

“Can I use your bathroom?” I finally realized why he was dancing and smiled to himself.

“Sure but why?”

As soon as he heard my yes he pushed past Reggie, running into the thin wall bathroom without an answer until I heard him yell “Yes!”

“Our bathroom had some weird bug in the toilet and Julie and Flynn’s bathroom was connected to some weird old dude who fell asleep on the toilet,” Alex responded through the door, the excitement obviously in his voice.

“Looks like I got the good room,” Reggie smiled but I was hoping Alex would catch on to my comment and by the way he laughed I think he did.

“Shut up (Y/N)!”

Reggie knocked on the door jokingly as he passed, making his way back to the other side of the bed.

“How did Julie and Flynn get a conjoining room?”

“I don’t know and I don’t want to,” Alex yelled back, the sound of running water confirmed he was now washing his hands.

“You don’t have paper towels,” Alex opens the door, holding his hands in front of him as he looks like a kicked puppy.

“Use your shirt,” Reggie nodded at him, both him and I on our side as we watched Alex.

“It’s not mine! It’s Willie’s.”

“We won’t tell if you don’t,” I smiled back, giving Alex a wink.

“I accidentally told him,” Alex muttered as he started walking to the door, waving back at us and he left to go back to his own room.

As soon as the door shut I let myself laugh a little at my close friend, slowly reaching for the lamp and lifting the covers up. I could feel Reggie doing the same as the cold air hitting my skin when it moved and disappearing once it fell.

“Must I say, this motel isn’t that bad.”

I turned to look back at Reggie, the only reason I could see his face was because of the city lights from the window that danced across his face.

“What?”

“Don’t get me wrong, this place breaks every violation ever, but I think places like this bring out the best stories,” Reggie moved to look at me, his nose close to my own and he smiled at me.

I smiled, it was truly the Reggie-ish thing I had ever heard.

“I believe that,” I spoke softly, watching him again but this time the tension was thick, it felt so much calmer.

“Julie and Flynn will never forget the creepy guy, Alex and Luke will laugh about Alex blatter, and I’ll never forget the best sleepover ever,” each word brought a little larger smile on his face, my heart racing again at his words.

“I mean that much to you?” I said the words jokingly, placing a hand over my heart as I spoke but Reggie took it differently.

“Most definitely,” his words are soft, making my eyes grow tired as his breath fan across my face.

He was watching me again, this time he looked like an angel with the way the city light bounced off his cheeks and bought out his pink lips.

“Yeah?”

“Yep,” his face looked like it was moving closer to me but I knew better than to think that, but that didn’t crush that little hope in the back of my head.

“If you were there in the 90s, I’d probably still be alive,” eye contact was made and I thought I would jump him there.

“I wasn’t alive then.”

“I know, but you’re alive now and I feel alive,” Reggie shrugged as if his words didn’t mean everything to me.

Like he didn’t mean everything to me. I felt myself break eye contact, smiling like a fool as I looked to the tv that was barely hanging on the wall.

“You’re cold,” I spoke softly, because what else was I supposed to say?

“You’re warm,” as he spoke he grew closer to me, resting his head near my collarbone as he waited for me to speak but it never came.

“Can I lay my head on your shoulder?”

“Most definitely,” I repeated his rooms from earlier, smiling when I felt his hair brush my cheek and he drew close to me.

“Goodnight (Y/N),” he spoke softly, his words causing shivers to run up and down my spine like a track race.

“Goodnight Reggie.”

A loud bang on the door woke me up, causing me to almost fall from the bed if the hand that grabbed my shirt wasn't a tiger. His arms weren’t around me, simply holding me closer by my shirt, his head still on my shoulder as my head laid on his.

“Flynn has coffee!” Julie’s voice was joyus, making a smile spread across my lips. My friends knew me so well, my hands gently pulling Reggie’s fist from my shirt. I carefully pulled myself from the bed, tip-toeing across the room to the door. I didn’t even need to look through the peephole to know who was on the other side.

“Did you get a cup for your neighbor?”

Flynn smiled, dropped, and the coffee she held out to me was brought closer to her chest.

“And to think I gave you a kiss yesterday,” I rolled my eyes, reaching out for the coffee that was easy to pull from her hands.

“Luke and Alex are stealing breakfast from the hotel we were supposed to be staying at,” Julie brushed past me, stopping in her tracks when she noticed Reggie's sleeping body, obviously splashing on both sides of the bed.

“How are they doing that?”

“I don't wanna know, but I do wanna know what happened here last night,” Julie  spun around, pointing at Reggie over her shoulder.

“We talked and went to bed,” I shrugged, doing my best to keep my voice down but it wouldn’t change anything, Reggie was a heavy sleeper.

“I thought you would make a plate on the floor or something,” Flynn spoke as she joined us in the room, slowly walking to Reggie and inspecting him.

“That felt rude,” I sipped on the coffee, smiling when I realized Julie and Flynn got my order right.

“Or,” Julie turned around, poking my side with a goofy smile. I rolled my eyes, my excitement from last night and the presents of my friends was sending me through the roof and I don’t think I could handle it much longer.

“Guys!”

I looked down the hall, smiling when I saw Alex and Luke breathing heavily with large bags of hopeful food in their hands.

“Is that from the hotel?”

“Of course,” Luke smiled as he slipped into the room, handing me one of the bags so I could place it on the small table in the motel.

“We got chased out but we did it!”

I laughed at Alex's face, the anxiety was obvious but the smile told me he was fine and there wasn’t much to worry about.

“Well well well,” Luke walked around the bed, smiling at Reggie’s sleeping form.

“Don’t say a word,” I opened one of the bags and pulled a small piece of pancake off, and threw it in the air, catching it in my mouth easily. Perks of being friends with Luke, he teaches great party tricks.

“Aren’t you two the cutest,” Luke came over to my side, waving Julie over to show me something on her phone. I looked over my shoulder, watching a new edit that was posted maybe an hour ago.

“Reggie and (Y/N) were seen awfully close leaving their hotel last night,” the E! News reporter said, the edit jumping to a meme I had seen of a dude crying. Next thing I knew pictures from last night flash across the screen, Reggie’s hand on my lower back. The edit jumped to other pictures of us joking around followed.

I smiled, turning back to the bag and pulling another piece of pancake out.

“Awh look at that,” Flynn pitched my cheeks, smiling at my as I laughed it off. Butterflies were flying through my stomach but I didn my best to hide it.

“What?”

Everyone turned to Reggie once sleeping form, his eyes scanning the room before he fell back to the bed.

“Did anyone knock?”

“We did,” Julie smiled, flopping on the bed so her head laid on his legs.

“I wasn’t informed,” Reggie sat up, looking at me with a grumpy frown. I shrugged, taking another bite of pancake while smiling at him.

“What? You wanted me to wake you?”

“Most definitely,” Reggie smiled, the conversation from last night still floating around his brain.

I nodded, looking down at my hands and thought back to the late night we had with nothing but calming security.

He was right, crappy motels brought the best memories out in people.



[hockeylvr59]

Honest Love Part 6 || Cale Makar

Requested: [ ] yes [x] no

Authors Note:  I finally got through this chapter!!! Happy dance!!! This first segment is one of my favorite pieces of this whole story so I hope you love it as much as I do. The other two were a little harder so I hope you enjoy what I came up with to flush this chapter out. 

Recap: Part 4 was the pregnancy announcement to Cale, Part 5 was Cale’s birthday. 

Warnings: cavities? This chapter is a little sweet. Mentions of drinking/tipsiness on Cale’s part. 

Word Count: 3,336

~~~~~

The fact that Cale’s birthday butted up against Halloween was always something you’d enjoyed growing up. It was almost like a perfect 2 for 1 deal - cake and ice cream one day, boatloads of candy the next. It was the innocent things you liked most about Halloween: the cute kids costumes, candy in excess, pumpkin carving, and corn mazes. Which was why today’s plans were perfect. Cale had gone for a quick practice and then around lunchtime the team was meeting at a farm that had a huge corn maze, hay rides, and lots of family friendly activities for the whole team and their families to enjoy. 

Then, after a break for trick or treating and dinner and naps, the adults were all having an adult costume party at Gabe and Mel’s full of drinking and just laid back fun. Of course, Cale was going to be the only one doing any drinking tonight, but you were going to play that off as just being the designated driver since it was kind of a birthday celebration for him in a way as well. Hopefully that would keep the team off of your scent as you and Cale weren’t ready to share the news of your pregnancy just yet, especially since neither set of parents had been looped in. 

Knowing it was going to be a late night, you were lounging on the couch trying to rest and catch up on some work you were behind on when Cale came sauntering through the door, a bright smile bringing those dimples alive. A short but sweet kiss on your lips made you smile and as you carded your fingers through his hair you felt him slide your computer out of the way, his fingers brushing against your shirt. Assuming he was just saying a silent hello to the baby you didn’t think anything of it until you felt him press something onto your skin before pulling away. 

Looking down, your face crinkled with confusion when you spotted a tiny pumpkin sticker attached to your flat stomach. 

“Why?” You asked softly, beyond confused by what was running through your boyfriend’s head right now. Cale’s cheeks flushed but his smile never wavered as he moved into the kitchen to grab a sports drink. 

“The guys were all talking about their kids costumes.” He mumbled softly between sips. “And they all sounded so cute. I thought about what we’re going to dress our baby up as next year but then I thought why wait. I know it’s a little bit big, but baby will grow into it. I’ve got skeleton stickers too but I figured that was a little too close to reality right now and therefore not really a costume.” He explained, shrugging. 

Immediately tears filled your eyes because that might just be the cutest damn thing Cale has ever said. He really went out and got stickers just so your unborn baby could have a ‘costume’ for Halloween. Wiping at your eyes you just looked up at him in awe. 

“You went out and bought stickers so our unborn baby could have a Halloween costume?” You repeated in confirmation. Cale’s cheeks flushed deeper and he mumbles that maybe it was a stupid idea. Shaking your head, you moved to stand and pull him into a hug and kiss, your shirt still pushed up to your rib cage. 

“It’s not stupid.” You assured him. “It’s endearing and probably one of the cutest things you’ve ever done.” Tipping up to kiss him you tried to reassure him. “Take a picture of our little pumpkin?” You questioned. “We have to capture baby’s first Halloween after all.” You urged. There wasn’t a bump or any physical sign that there was a baby growing inside of you but that didn’t mean that you couldn’t take a picture. Even if no one else ever saw it, you wanted to be able to look back at this memory because it would be your baby’s first picture and a reminder of how in love Cale had been with your son or daughter right from the very start. 

Though he seemed a bit reluctant, Cale nodded and moved to take a few pictures of your stickered stomach before putting his phone away. Tucking your shirt down over the sticker, leaving it intact, you moved to kiss Cale again asking if he was about ready to head out to the farm for the team family event.  With a few more reassuring kisses, Cale settled again and finally murmured that he just needed to change. You were ready yourself having gotten dressed earlier before you tried to talk yourself out of it by making excuses. You wanted to go spend the day with the team and with Cale and you certainly didn’t want to miss out on the inside jokes that were bound to crop up throughout. 

_____

Almost an hour later, Cale finally pulled the car into the farm where the team was meeting, and the feeling of the vehicle stopping for good pulled you from the little cat nap you’d been taking in the passenger seat. Cale looked over, familiar concern visible on his face, but you quickly assured him that you were good and you just needed a moment to fix your mussed hair before you could go join everyone. Cale cupped your cheek, kissing you softly before he moved to climb out of the car to stretch while you fixed a few stray hairs and flattened out your top, finally exiting the vehicle yourself. 

Though you’d just seen everyone last night, enthusiastic greetings were still exchanged and you hugged everyone before returning to your spot at Cale’s side, his hand resting along the curve of your spine. After some bickering from the boys about what they wanted to do, it was agreed that you’d start with hayrides before coming back down for the corn maze and everything else. You’d forgotten just how raucous team events could be, but it was definitely a good time, especially watching the kids run around laughing and having fun. For just a moment, you let your mind slip into daydreams about how that would be your little one laughing and exploring next year, hopefully with cheeks pink from the chill in the air. 

After the hayride which had you fighting back just a little bit of nausea, the Calvert boys pulled you and Cale into the smaller corn maze designed for kids making it a race to see how quickly they could get through it. Gabe, Mel, and Linnea joined in and you smiled watching Linnea toddle along through the corn amazed at how tall it was but fearless so long as her daddy was right behind her. Being that it was a kids’ maze it didn’t take long to complete but it was fun all the same as Gabe helped Linnea and Cale helped the Calvert kids get all their stamps to get their prize of a candy or small toy at the end. And thankfully being back on solid ground had quelled the nausea you’d felt, leaving you feeling good once more. 

As you finished the maze with the kids, Josty, JT, and Burky were racing over to pull Cale into their group to do the big corn maze as bets had been made that they could beat some of the other guys and their better halves. Assuring Cale that he should go, you murmured that you would hang out and maybe do some shopping of the farm fresh produce and that he should leave you keys. Looking over you saw Gabe and Matt being pulled to join other groups and you smiled to yourself as Mel and Courtney moved over to you with Mel holding Linnea but no sign of the Calvert boys who had insisted that they were now corn maze pros and had to go with their dad. 

“So how was Cale’s birthday?” Courtney asked, a teasing expression on her face. 

“It was good.” You replied. “He seemed to enjoy his dinner and presents so I’m happy.” Mel just sent you a teasing look like I’m sure he did enjoy his presents before speaking softly to Linnea who was babbling away. Ignoring the look you mentioned doing some produce shopping while you were here and when they both agreed, you headed over to the market portion of the farm to get some things for your respective households. Getting some fresh squash, apples, and of course some kale as well as pumpkin chai tea mix, apple butter, and some seasoned pumpkin seeds you loaded up the car before moving to meet back up with the girls. Courtney had three containers of ice cream in her hands while Mel held a tray of steaming disposable mugs in her off hand and they motioned for you to join them at a table. 

“Apple pie ice cream.” Courtney stated, answering your non-verbal question. “And then some chai lattes made with fresh farm honey to ward off the chill.” Mel added getting herself situated with Linnea. Both treats were incredibly good and you thanked them as you tried the ice cream nearly moaning at how good it was. Mel couldn’t help but laugh at the look on your face and she murmured that they sell it by the quart too if you wanted to pick some up on your way home to put in the freezer. 

“Yeah. I might have to do that.” You mumbled between bites because it was so good. 

Chatting with the girls about various things while you enjoyed your treats and waited for the guys to find their way out of the corn maze, you couldn’t help but think that this was a pretty great found family to bring a baby into. It wasn’t long before Linnea squirmed her way out of her mommy’s arms before toddling around the table to you asking you to pick her up. Snuggling the toddler happily, you teased your fingers through her hair murmuring that the only way Cale’s group wasn’t the last one out was if your boyfriend single handedly got them through it. 

Turns out that was definitely not the case and they were one of the last groups out following significantly behind Gabe and Matt’s group. You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself at that, still snuggling the baby girl who refused to move from your lap even when her daddy returned. You joked with Gabe that you were stealing her and he joked back that he was sure that his young defenseman probably wouldn’t have any complaints about that. Evidently it wasn’t just the better halves that were under the impression that Cale was thinking about kids. It made keeping the little secret growing inside you that much harder but also that much more worth it. 

You were chatting with Linnea about her current favorite Disney movie when your boyfriend appeared, dropping a kiss to your head as he flopped onto the picnic table bench beside you. The little girl’s face lit up at his presence and she smiled at him just watching him, everything that she had been babbling about forgotten. 

“Did you have fun?” You asked him, giggling softly when his response was primarily a groan. Reaching out to pick a piece of corn husk out of his hair you brushed a thumb over his red cheek murmuring that next time you’d have to go with to rein the boys in. Of course, next time you’d have a tiny baby with you so that may or may not happen but Cale got the point you were trying to convey. 

After mingling with the team for a little while longer, groups started to disburse and Cale asked if you were ready to head home for a bit. Nodding, you passed a sleepy Linnea back to her daddy murmuring that she was going to nap well on the way home. Then, taking Cale’s hand you pulled yourself up from the table and sighed softly as his hands grazed your hips because they were just a bit sore from the hard bench. 

“We need to get a quart of ice cream before we go.” You murmured, pouting softly when he commented on how it would melt during the drive. “Even melted it would be good.” You insisted, pleading softly until he gave in and got a quart of ice cream packed into an empty plastic flower pot with some ice. 

“Lucky I love you.” He murmured softly, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. 

“Once you taste it you’ll agree it’s worth it.” You assured him, stealing one more kiss before heading back out to the car. 

You fell asleep on the drive home, only waking when Cale unbuckled you and was moving to lift you out of the car. Though you murmured you could walk, he insisted that he had you and with your arms wrapped around his neck, it wasn’t long before you were settled onto your comfortable mattress while Cale pulled your shoes off your feet whispering for you to nap while he brought everything else upstairs. 

And nap you did. 

_____

The sun had set by the time you woke up to Cale’s lips kissing your temple and his fingers sliding along your side. 

“I made dinner.” He stated softly as you nodded and worked your way into a seated position. 

“Dinner sounds good.” You agreed, blinking at him tiredly. Cale offered a hand out to help you up and you took it, sliding onto your feet to follow him out into the kitchen. It wasn’t anything complex but it smelled good and that was really all that mattered to you. “Thanks for dinner.” 

Cale brushed your thanks off, directing you to dig in. After a moment he questioned whether you still wanted to go tonight or whether you wanted to stay home. You knew the choice was honestly up to you but at the same time you couldn’t not show because that would raise way too many questions you didn’t want to answer yet. 

“You know we have to go.” You replied softly between bites. “I promise I’m okay.” You added. “I’m just still waking up but that was a good nap. Let me get this food and a shower in me and I’ll be just fine.” The ever present look of concern was on your boyfriend’s face and you reached a hand across the table to squeeze his. “Promise. I’m good.” You repeated. “We’re going to go and you’re going to have a good time drinking with the guys so I can be the designated driver without any questions.” Cale hesitated before nodding and you knew that you were going to need to assure him again later that you were really okay. 

You asked him to tell you about his afternoon and you talked about shopping for produce and spending time with the girls and Linnea. 

“You’re really cute with her, you know that right?” He asked, taking a sip of his water. “Makes me excited to see you as a mom to our baby. She adores you.” 

“You mean like the Calvert boys adore you?” You grin. “Little pumpkin already has the best daddy.” The ways Cale’s cheeks flushed made you smile and you nudged your legs against his under the table before focusing on your plate once more. 

After dinner you moved to shower and then start to get ready for the Halloween party. Standing at the foot of your bed, you slid stockings up your legs before putting on a red skirt. Cale came into the room when you were pulling on the tight blue shirt with a maroon and gold ‘s’ emblazoned on the front. He had a similar shirt laying on the bed, but his costume certainly wasn’t as elaborate as yours. Once you had both the top and bottom halves of your costume situated, you wrapped the gold belt around your waist and grabbed the cape from the closet, leaving it on the bed while you did just a normal face of makeup with some darker lipstick. 

By the time you came out of the bathroom, Cale was dressed in black slacks and a white button up and he was slipping a partially undone tie around his neck. Stepping closer to him you reached up to undo the top few buttons of his dress shirt revealing the blue t-shirt underneath. 

“Pretty sure you have to have the buttons undone hun, otherwise this isn’t a costume at all.” You teased, reaching around him to grab the maroon heels tucked into the closet since you didn’t have the proper knee high boots. Sitting on the bed to slide them on you reached over to grab his glasses from the bedside table. “You’re also going to need these. C’mon, pretend you’re having a little fun. This costume was your idea.” You prodded, standing back up and sliding your palms down his abs. Cale was definitely a pretty sexy Clark Kent to match the superwoman - supergirl - that he always claimed you were anyway. 

Cale just looked at you making you laugh. “I know this is your least favorite part of Halloween.” You stated. “Because you’re boring like that but c’mon. We look hot.” You pressed, finally getting a small smile. 

“You certainly look hot.” Cale agreed. “Are you sure you’re up to this?” He asked, causing you to roll your eyes and nod. “Yes...now let’s go before we’re really late.” 

You were so going to pass him off to Josty and Burky and Mikko when you got there to make sure that they could get a few drinks into him and help him relax. He deserved that for sure, you just had to make sure he didn’t get so drunk that he started to get a loose tongue and spill your secret. 

____

Needless to say, your boyfriend was clingy and affectionate when tipsy, something you’d known all the way back from that time in the bar before you’d even kissed. It was crazy to think that was only seven months ago. 

Deciding that it was time to go, you left the party around 1am, dragging Cale back to the car and urging him into the passenger seat with the promise of a kiss. He’d lost his tie at some point over the course of the evening and you made a mental note to text Mel about it, sure that she would find it somewhere in her house. 

By the time you parked in the apartment garage Cale was half asleep from two days of excitement and you moved around the car after releasing his seatbelt. 

“Come on hun.” You urged, offering him a hand. “I may be dressed like Supergirl but there is no way I have her strength so you’re going to have to help me out here so we can get you to bed.” Cale looked up at you with a hazy alcohol fueled look before taking your hand, leaning into you as you guided him upstairs. 

“You’re so pretty.” He murmurs repeatedly, his word choice changing slightly with every repetition from pretty to beautiful to sexy and then finally gorgeous. Unlocking your front door you guided him in and kicked it shut behind you, locking it before dropping your keys and stepping out of your heels. 

“Time for bed.” You remind him, gently corralling him to the bedroom. He was asleep the moment his head hit the pillows and you carefully helped him strip down to the t-shirt and his boxers before moving to get yourself ready. It wasn’t often that you saw Cale as relaxed as he was tonight and you were grateful to the guys for giving him a good day and letting him forget about all those worrying thoughts you knew sometimes plagued him. 

A lot was changing in your lives but with the support system you have and the love you share, it was all going to work out just fine. 

[purrincess-chat]

Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s Spite Playlist: Remix CH7

Happy Valentine’s weekend, my dears! To make up for missing last week, I’m sharing two chapters today. Maybe if you’re all really good, and I have time I’ll share chapter 8 on Sunday. That’s where the fun begins ;) Are you ready for it?

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Previous   First   Next    AO3

Chapter 7: Shake It Out

My dear sweet Marinette,

           How are you, my fairy? I hope that this letter finds you well. When you backpack over Russian mountains, you take whatever mail service you can get. I have so much to tell you about my latest trip, but first I have some exciting news for you!

During my last stay in Africa volunteering to build homes in a humble little village, I ran into a sweet little fairy by the name of Clara Nightingale. She says she met you! Did you know she’s a famous pop star? Anyway, she and I spent a lot of quality time together teaching young children how to read, and I showed her the scarf you knitted me for Christmas. She loved it! She says she will be in Paris again on the 18th and wanted to meet with you about designing for her, so I gave her the address to the bakery. She said she would stop by and see you.

“No way, no way, no way!” Marinette shrieked, kicking her feet. “Clara Nightingale wants me to design for her! I’m gonna faint.”

“This is an amazing opportunity for you, Marinette,” Tikki said as Marinette paced the floor, hugging the letter. “Tomorrow could change your life!”

“I know, Tikki! I’m so excited to- wait.” She stopped abruptly. “Tomorrow?”

“The letter said the 18th,” Tikki said, and Marinette raced over to pull down her calendar. “Isn’t that-”

“Tomorrow! Clara Nightingale is coming to my house. Tomorrow. To look at my designs!” Marinette clutched her cheeks as rapid breaths shook her shoulders. Tikki covered her ears as another scream emitted from Marinette’s throat. “This is a dream come true, Tikki!”

“It’s not that surprising. Gabriel Agreste liked your designs, and Clara attended the show, so it’s not like she’s unfamiliar with your work.” Tikki pointed out. “Plus, you’ve designed for Jagged before too.”

“I know, but getting commissioned by celebrities at 14 isn’t something you just get used to.” Marinette fell onto her chaise with a sigh. “I can’t wait to tell Macy, Eliott, and Martin! They’re gonna freak out.”

“What are you going to do about Chloe?”

Marinette waved it away, reading over the letter again. “I’m going to ignore her. She has no power over me.”

“True…” Tikki said. “But she did have a point. You always look out for your friends.”

“Yeah, but how many of those ‘friends’ came to visit me when I left?” Marinette said pointedly.

“Is that why you left? To see who would come?”

Marinette set the letter down and pursed her lips. “That’s one reason. I wanted to get away, but I also wanted to see who my real friends are,” she said. “I wanted to see who cared enough to chase after me, and I guess Adrien is the only real friend I had after all. Funny how I spent all that time hoping he would notice me when in reality, he’s always been on my side.”

“He thinks really highly of you.” Tikki flitted over to rest beside her.

“I know. My heart was beating so fast when he said those things earlier. Do you think it means he likes me?” Marinette smiled up at her ceiling, biting her lip.

“It definitely means he knows how amazing you are, and I’m sure you can catch his attention romantically too. Especially now that you two are hanging out so much,” Tikki said.

“I feel like all of my dreams are coming true.” Marinette buried her face in the throw pillow with a squeak.

“With everything you give to the city, I think you deserve it,” Tikki said.

“Well, one thing is for sure, I need to defeat Hawkmoth before I become a famous fashion designer and go to New York. That’s priority number one. Chat Noir, Rena- oh-” Marinette sat up abruptly.

“What’s the matter?”

“Well, Alya and Nino are Rena Rouge and Carapace, but after everything… I don’t know if I still trust them,” she said. “I don’t doubt that they would help Ladybug, but if I know who they are, then it might affect me. Do you think I made a mistake picking people close to me?”

“I think that’s a question for someone with more experience picking.” Tikki advised.

Marinette drummed her fingers on her thigh. “You’re right, Tikki. Let’s go.”

Master Fu was playing cards with Wayzz when Marinette knocked on the door and poked her head in. “Master?”

“Marinette, what brings you here?” He lowered his hand calmly.

“I could use some advice. Do you have a minute?”

Wayzz peeked over his cards with a huff. “We are in the middle of a game,” he said matter-of-factly, but Master Fu cast him a sly smile.

“It’s okay.” He splayed his royal flush for Wayzz to see. “I was just winning. What is on your mind?”

Marinette sat on the mat, hugging her knees to her chest as Wayzz zipped off grumpily. Taking a deep breath, she dove in, sparing no details—Volpina, Lila, her friends, changing schools, leaving Alya. Everything. Master Fu listened patiently while she talked, sipping his tea thoughtfully every now and then.

“I’m sorry, Master, but I think I made a mistake picking my friends to be Rena Rouge and Carapace.” She finished, head hanging low. “I don’t think I’m fit to choose our partners anymore.”

“Marinette,” Master Fu said with one of his kind, grandfatherly smiles. “We cannot blame ourselves for the actions of others. Your friends have made choices outside of your control. That does not mean that your judgment was lacking when you picked them. People change, and that is no one’s fault, just the natural order of things.”

“So, you won’t be mad if I pick someone else next time I need help?” Marinette glanced up at him like a small child waiting to be scolded.

“You must pick allies you can trust—whoever that happens to be in the moment,” he said.

“Thank you, Master.” Her shoulders relaxed. “Sorry to interrupt your game.”

“It’s okay. I have a large lead on Wayzz.” He chuckled. “Come back anytime.”

“I will. And next time, I’ll choose people I know I can count on.”

♪♫♪ StopRewind ♪♫♪

“You’re in an awfully good mood,” Macy remarked as Marinette took her seat in home room.

“Did something good happen? Spill!” Eliott leaned in.

Marinette glanced around the room to ensure their classmates couldn’t hear them. “Can you two keep a secret?”

“Oh, if there’s anything we aristocrats know how to do, it’s keep secrets.” Eliott assured her.

“Yeah, you’re our friend now. You can count on us.” Macy echoed with an encouraging nod.

Marinette bit her lip, leaning in close to whisper, “Clara Nightingale wants me to design for her.”

“No way!” Eliott gasped.

“Marinette, that’s huge.” Macy squealed before regaining her composure. “Don’t worry. We will totally keep it on the down-low, but I can’t wait to see the look on Gabrielle’s face when it goes public.”

“Pretty soon you’ll be buying your own yacht, Marinette,” Eliott said with a laugh. “Speaking of, you still need to see mine.”

“Oh, and we should totally have tea at my house! We just had the theater redone,” Macy added.

“I’d love to,” Marinette said. “Clara is supposed to come over today, so I’ll tell you how it goes.”

“We want all of the details tomorrow,” Macy said as Mr. Mercier entered the room and called for everyone to settle down. “We can rendezvous at my place this weekend.”

“Sounds good.”

When school ended, Marinette rushed home, a giddy smile tugging at her cheeks. What type of design would Clara want? A dress? Or maybe a tasteful pantsuit? Her mind was already buzzing with ideas. Hopefully, she didn’t mess everything up. What if she designed something, and Clara hated it? Or worse what if Audrey Bourgeois slammed her design in the next issue of her magazine because she refused to help Chloe? Then it could ruin Clara’s career, and it would be all Marinette’s fault!

“Hi, sweetie. How was school?” her mom greeted when she entered the bakery.

“Fine, except I have no talent, and I’m going to ruin Clara Nightingale,” she said.

“That’s not true. My daughter has all the talent in the world. She can do anything!” Her dad scooped her into a tight hug. “After all, she comes by it naturally.” He gestured to a large wedding cake resting in the back.

“You’re just nervous, sweetie. You’re going to be great,” her mom said.  

The bell above the door chimed, and a woman wearing a hat and sunglasses entered. Marinette’s father put her down and resumed his post in the back while her mother returned to the cash register.

“Welcome! What can we get for you today?” her mom asked politely.

“What I’m after isn’t a sweet treat; there’s someone here I want to meet.” She lowered her sunglasses to peek over at Marinette. “It’s been some time since we’ve seen one another, but your designs are truly like no other.”

“Clara Nightingale! You’re here!” Marinette gasped.

“I want to ask you a request of mine. I’ll run it by you if you’ve got time.”

“Yes, I have so much time!” Marinette said, then composing herself, gestured to the back door. “Why don’t we chat upstairs?”

“Fine by me. This request is top secret, you see,” Clara said. She followed Marinette up to the apartment, and once they were safely away from the public eye, she removed her disguise with a sigh of relief. “Thank you for meeting with me. I assume you read your grandmother’s letter.”

“I did. It arrived yesterday.” Marinette nodded, putting on a pot of tea.

“Excellent! Then you know why I’m here.”

Marinette turned and found herself face-to-face with Clara, nearly dropping the teabags in surprise.

“Ever since I met you, I felt a connection between us like our destinies were entwined. I loved the hat you designed for Adrien, and Jagged has only ever told me great things about you. Then of course, Gina’s scarf was to die for, so, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, would you be willing to design for me?” Clara dropped onto one knee.

“Doesn’t Gabriel Agreste usually design your clothes? Wouldn’t you rather see a professional?” Marinette asked.

“Gabriel’s designs are wonderful, but I think you can capture my essence for this. I’ve been nominated for a music award, and I want you to design my dress for the ceremony.” Clara took her hands with a confident smile. “You and I are both passionate about our crafts, and I think you can bring something that Gabriel can’t, so what do you say?”

Clara’s gaze bore into hers hopefully, and Marinette shifted her weight. “I’ll do my best.” Marinette gulped, and Clara bounced in delight.

“Thank you, Marinette! This favor is one I won’t forget!” Clara pulled her in for a tight hug. “Your willingness means so much, and very soon I’ll be in touch.”

Clara trotted out the door happily, hat and sunglasses in hand, leaving Marinette standing in the kitchen, stunned. She blinked out of her trance when the teapot on the stove screeched and set it aside, barely capable of containing her smile.

She couldn’t wait to tell her friends this.

♪♫♪ I’d Love to Break It to You ♪♫♪

Adrien removed his fencing gloves with a sigh. Another long day of watching Lila manipulate everyone. Even he had to admit it was getting old, especially since Nino spent most of his free time helping Alya with her deputy duties, which were really Lila’s class representative duties that she came up with excuses to get out of.

He ripped open his locker and tossed the gloves into his bag, thinking back to Marinette’s anguished sobs the previous evening. Seeing her so upset was nauseating in a way Adrien had never felt before. Maybe it was because Marinette was always positive and upbeat, doing her best to help others even when she had problems of her own. Someone like her being so broken and hurt was painful to watch. He wanted to help her in some way, but how could he? He could barely stand up to Chloe, let alone Lila.

“Why the long face?” Kagami’s voice startled him.

He turned to face her as she leaned against the locker next to his.

“Just tired.” He slung his bag over one shoulder with a shrug.

“You’ve been like this for the past week,” she remarked as he paced up the aisle toward the door. “Ever since Marinette left.”

“It’s been a long week. I’ve had a lot going on,” he said flatly.

“You miss her.”

Adrien stopped short at the end of the row and glanced back at Kagami over one shoulder. “Why wouldn’t I? She’s my friend.”

Kagami shoved away from the locker, approaching him slowly—lithe like a cat stalking her prey. “I wonder why she left so suddenly. Rumor has it that she had a jealousy spat with that Italian girl in your class,” Kagami said. “What was her name again? Lie-la?”

“Yeah,” Adrien said curtly, adjusting the strap of his bag.

“She sure has everyone enamored.” Kagami paused beside him and cocked a hip. “Well, almost everyone.”

“Why do you care?” Adrien’s eyes narrowed.

“I don’t.” She shrugged.

“So why bring it up?”

“Because you and I both know the truth, and I suspect Marinette does too.” She tilted her chin to meet his gaze. “She’s a liar.”

Adrien let out a breath, the stiffness in his shoulders fading. “How’d you find out?”

“She claimed that her great grandfather was a world-champion fencer who invented a secret technique, but my family has held the championship title for the last six generations,” Kagami said. “Plus, her stories are so obviously farfetched and self-congratulating.”

“Tell that to everyone else,” he grumbled.  

“It’s not really my place. I don’t even go here.” Kagami shrugged again. “Besides, to everyone here, I’m just the ice queen.”

“So, you’re stuck with this knowledge too.” Adrien deflated with a sigh.

“After what happened with Marinette, I have no interest in confronting her. If your classmates want to be sheep, I say let them,” she said. “No sense in letting it upset you. They could easily figure it out if they applied an ounce of brain power.”

“Well, yeah, but she’s using all of them. I thought her lies were harmless, but she has everyone bending over backwards to help her. Now Marinette left the school hurt… I’m starting to get a little fed up.” Adrien averted his gaze, the wave of nausea returning to his stomach.

“So, call her out then,” Kagami said as if it were obvious. “People trust your word, and you have enough celebrity pull to prove it.”

“Yeah, but…” He winced.

“Adrien, your friends will only continue to suffer if you stay silent. Action is the only way to help them.” When he lowered his head, she rolled her eyes and pushed past him. “I hope your friends see the light eventually. For your sake. See you tomorrow.”

Adrien’s hands clenched into fists as she sauntered from the locker room, biting his tongue as anger swelled in his chest. Letting out a heated breath, he stalked toward the door, blinking in surprise when it opened.

Lila stepped in front of him and wasted no time latching onto his neck. “Adrien, you’ve been avoiding me,” she said with her sugary-sweet lilt. “You promised to help me catch up on my school work.”

“Sorry. I don’t think I can. Why don’t you ask Max?” He unhooked her arms and pushed her away gently.

“But you promised!” She pouted.

Her whiny tone sent a shiver down his spine, and he tried unsuccessfully to mask his grimace. “I’ve got a lot going on, Lila. Photoshoots, private lessons, that sort of stuff.” He took a purposeful step away from her.

“You seem to have enough time to go visit Marinette,” she said pointedly, crossing her arms over her chest. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

“Lila-”

“She’s the one who’s lying, ya know. I’m sure she has told you all kinds of nasty things about me, but they’re false,” Lila said. “She’s just trying to turn you against me because she’s jealous.”

“That’s not true, Lila.” Adrien’s anger boiled hotter. “Marinette just wants to move on.”

“Is that why she went to Jagged Stone’s concert just to try to make me look bad?”

“No, that’s not-”

“Alya is still upset over their fight. Marinette ripped her heart out and stomped on it.”

“There’s more to it than tha-”

“Honestly, Marinette is the worst person I’ve ever met.”

Something in Adrien’s chest snapped—a rubber band stretched too far.

“How do I know when I should stand up for myself?”

“I get a feeling in my gut that it’s the right thing to do.”

“Enough, Lila!” he shouted.

She flinched, cupping her hands over her mouth. “Adrien, I-”

“Your lies won’t work on me, and sooner or later everyone else is going to see through you too, and you’ll be left all alone. Is that what you want?” He barely gave her a moment to respond before continuing. “Marinette poured her heart and soul into her friends. She made sacrifices for them and never once asked for anything in return, and now you’ve gone and turned her best friend against her and convinced everyone that she just wanted attention. If anyone here is a terrible person, it’s you.”

Lila’s face hardened, her whole countenance darkening. “I see how it is, Adrien.” Her jaw clenched. “If you choose to side with her over me, then I can’t help what happens to you. I own this school now, and there’s nothing you or Marinette can do about it.”

Turning over her shoulder, she slapped Adrien with her hair on her way out, and he balled his hands into tight fists. A feeling he’d never felt before bubbled in his core that made him restless. Adrien always thought Lila just wanted attention, but purposefully targeting one of his friends was not okay.

A new resolve came over him, and he instructed Gorilla to make a pitstop at the Grand Paris on the way home. His fist pounded against the suite door, breaths short and hot.

Chloe was lounging in a yellow bathrobe, feet soaking in a tub of water when her butler let him in. She raised an eyebrow as he entered. “You know I’m always happy to see you, Adrikins, but I’m in the middle of an herbal soak-”

“I want to help you take down Lila.” He cut her off.

A sinister smirk spread across Chloe’s lips, her shock fading to triumphant glee.

“Excellent.”

[daydream-believin]

Flowers Have Feelings

summary: it's valentines and you're making some gifts for your good pal douxie,,, also confessing

warnings: swearing probably, no proofread cause tired

word count: 2659

a/n: i've been struggling with writers block. i guess. i've returned to this only to write like, a paragraph so many times. which is bad cause like cheese designed the bouqeut and this should have been done ages ago. idk idk bon appetit

tags: @yagirlcheesely, is for you

image below: sketch of the bouquet

You jumped out of bed and slammed your alarm. Today was the day. You had to get everything ready today. Tonight would be the presentation. The night you finally do it. The night you confessed to your closest friend and crush, Douxie. Also happened to be Valentine’s day.

Your friends may have told you: “Just be patient. Drop hints. If he likes you, he’ll let you know.” But you weren’t about that passive love life. You liked to grab that strawberry cow by the horns. Subtly was boring and took far too long. You were in love with your friend and you were gonna let him know frankly if it killed you. It probably would, to be honest.

As confident as this makes you sound, you were aware of the possibility of him not liking you back, and that was okay. Sure, your heart would be shattered and you might not be very peachy for, say, a month or six, but you accepted that. At first, you had resigned yourself to just adoring him secretly. But you quickly grew impatient with that. What were you afraid of, really? Him letting you down gently, and ushering you two into an era of awkwardness? Okay so maybe that was worth considering. But not really. You wouldn’t let it come to that. Even if he did turn you down, you weren’t about to let that fact taint your friendship like that. You two were very close, and Douxie wasn’t the kind of guy to suddenly treat you differently after such a thing. Just a few weeks of awkwardness at most before all was forgotten (on his end at least). Only a problem for you. But, boy, it would be really, really nice, and not awkward, if he reciprocated.

You and Douxie were thick as thieves. There wasn’t a thing you hadn’t told each other. Not a secret between a pair of buddies as close as you. Oh, one thing, you know. The fact that you had caught feelings, that was definitely something you had kept secret from him. As eager as you were to do so, you couldn’t just drop a bombshell like that at any old time. That’s why you chose today of all days to confess; a little extra luck from St. Valentine. A little magic to give you a boost, placebo or not. This was going to happen. This was going to work.

You strapped on your helmet, safety first, before heading out on your bike. You cleared your schedule for the day cause you weren’t really sure if everything would work out or not. You could have everything done and ended wrapped up neatly in a few hours, or you could have a complete disaster on your hands, which could take up all your time. Time you would happily give, since you were determined for everything to be perfect. It was also nice to know you didn’t have to come in to work later,, lest you spend the whole night, crying your eyes out. You shuddered at the possibility. You were gonna stop thinking about that now. Yeah, only confidence now.

You may be a teensy bit sleep deprived. Only a teensy bit. You chugged a monster this morning, you’ll be fine. It wasn’t your fault you were up all night researching flower language. There were so many flowers, and those flowers had so many feelings. Eventually though, you managed to settle on a bouquet of roses, daisies, and dandelions. Fern leaves for greenery too. Greenery was important for flower arrangements. It tied the whole thing together. While it wouldn’t be the most on theme color scheme, the yellows, whites, reds, and greens, would mix together prettily. You definitely didn’t have to go as far as this, and you were banking on the fact that Douxie even knew flower language, but it was sweet, it was romantic. And you were going to be romantic about this, dammit.

Daisies, for friendship. It was really important that you communicate just how much you valued Douxie’s friendship and how nothing would change between you two if he were to not return your feelings. Red, red roses, classic romance. There was a reason the blooms were so strongly associated with the valentines holiday itself; no one sees a red rose and thinks of anything other than love and romance. A clear message to your beloved. And well, the dandelions? Cheery, beautiful, resilient, common weeds, never to be approved of, finding the strength to bloom despite assholes like Merlin’s best efforts. Dandelions were Douxie’s favorite flower.

Too bad the florist didn’t even consider them to be anything but said common weed. You had included them in your order when you called it in and you could hear the florist laugh, but muffled as if he put his hand over the receiver, before returning to the phone to inform you that you would have to add them yourself. Pretty rude, if you say so. No matter, hand-picked dandelions would be romantic, anyways. Even if no one else knew about it but you.

You placed the bouquet neatly into the basket of your bike. You’d pick the dandelions to complete it later, right before the big confession, in order to keep them fresh. But as of now, the bouquet peaked out of your basket, the floral fragrance wafting up to your face as you made your way to the next store.

Last week, you had seen such an adorable little box of chocolates. It had chocolates shaped like little skulls, flowers, and ghost cats, and the box had a silly pun about death. Goth chocolate, def. It would have been perfect for the edgy wizard in your life, but alas, it was way too fucking expensive. Like obscenely expensive. But no matter, you’d just steal the idea. How hard could making chocolate be anyway?

You left the grocery store with your haul safe in your skull-patterned reusable shopping bag. Wizard-chic and eco-friendly, it was your favorite bag. The contents of the much-loved bag? Melting chocolates, a jar of marmalade, a jar of raspberry jam, a jar of strawberry jam, and a new roll of wax paper, since you were out. Now you weren’t as ambitious as to make your own jam here. This was a failsafe. There are only so many ways to ruin chocolates if you did not make the chocolate nor the filling yourself. Now just a quick run in the stationary shop on your way home for a cute box, and you were all ready to start your chocolatier career.

 * * *

Douxie was getting antsy. Not many patrons had paid a visit to his bookstore this afternoon. Which was strange for valentine’s. and it left him with nothing but his thoughts to entertain his anxious mind. Doux had a lot to worry about. His band had a gig in a new town, so he wasn’t sure how they would be received. He was waiting on a shipment of books that was supposed to show up days ago. It may have gotten lost. That Lake kid was getting himself into more and more trouble these days and it was starting to become hard to help out without overstepping his vaguely imposed bounds. But most of all, at the very moment, he was worried about you.

You had asked him to meet up for dinner tonight. Okay, pretty normal for a Sunday night. Not that the weekend meant anything to either of you, but you normally set aside Sunday for dinner hangout. So nothing to abnormal. But then. Then, you said, something… Douxie actually can’t recall what you said, per se, just that it was along the lines of “we need to talk.” And that your tone sounded nervous. He did not like that one bit, nope nope. He had spent a great part of the day just revisiting every interaction the two of you had had in the last month or so, desperate to figure out if he did something wrong. But he was coming up blank, for all his efforts. Across the room, the clock ticked on. It would be closing time soon enough, and then he’d no longer have to wonder just what he did wrong, as you would be there to tell him directly. Fuzzbuckets, he couldn’t wait.

* * *

You wiped the goopy chocolate off of your cheek with the back of your hand. So far this wasn’t a total disaster. You had at least seven chocolate skulls filled and drying in the molds. The white chocolate seemed to have melted smoother than the regular chocolate? The regular chocolate ones looked kind of lumpy. You hoped they came out of the molds okay. Not to mention the ones you already messed up. A little mountain of chocolate pieces and jam had started rising from your table top corner.

It had been lots of fun at the start. melting the chocolates with a double boil, planning out which molds would be which flavors. But actually filling those molds? A messy, messy ordeal. You had chocolate and jam all over your kitchen, up to your exposed elbows, and even a little in your hair. But that was okay. You’d clean the kitchen later. With the molds in the freezer to set, your priority now was cleaning yourself up rather than the kitchen.

And you cleaned up nice, if you did say so yourself. You got the chocolate out of your hair, and had on a fresh outfit, taking a little time to put effort into your style. You looked snazzy, but not too fancy. You needed to stay casual. Something that you hoped would make Douxie be like ‘wow they look pretty okay’ but not freak him out with formality. Yeah. This was good.

Your watch beeped. Okay, you needed to get out of here, no more dilly dallying. You pulled the candies you made out of the freezer. Moment of truth. Thank the stars, all of the chocolates came out of the molds smoothly without breaking. You arranged them in the cute circular box you set up earlier and folded the tissue paper over them. They all fit in perfectly. The cheesy valentine card, the most important part, didn’t quite fit on top of the candies, you’d have to put it with the bouquet. You slid the lid onto the box and fastened a bow around it with a blue ribbon. Maybe this was a bit overkill, but Douxie knew how to appreciate the dramatic. He’d love it, you were sure.

Last but not least, you headed to the greenspace across the street from your apartment for the final ingredient in your Douxie wooing, dandelions. You were lucky that the empty lot had recently bloomed an entire garden’s worth of the yellow things. The chilly breeze mussed up your newly-fixed hair as you danced about gathering the tiny flowers, adding to the bouquet until you felt like it was enough. Which took longer than you had hoped. You definitely could have kept adding in more dandelions but your watch beeped once again and you had no choice but to make peace with the level of yellow and book it to the bookstore where you and Douxie were supposed to meet before heading out for the night.

* * *

Hearing the ding of the door chime, Douxie turned around to kindly inform the customer who came in that he wasn’t open, but the words caught in his throat when he was met with your smile. There you were, standing in the shop with a box in one hand and flowers in the other. You looked cute. Really cute. But Douxie chased that thought away. He fumbled with the book he had been re-shelving. It fell out of his hand unceremoniously, landing with a thud.

“Hey,” Doux managed to get out. “What’s all-”

“These are for you!” you shoved the presents into his now empty hands. That courage you had earlier? Gone. Your resolve? Dissolving as we speak. You had to get this over with before you chickened out. He was just so good, okay. And why did you think this was a good idea. Douxie looked down at the gifts in his hands confused, before blushing. If he could have reached a hand behind his head and rubbed the back of his neck he would have.

“I didn’t know we were doing Valentine’s, uh. I feel bad I didn’t get you anything.”

“Oh! Don’t be. I just,, felt like doing something nice for you and uh, special,” Douxie tilted his head. You took the box, freeing up his hand. “These are chocolates I made, like, like you’re supposed to do.” You waltzed over to the counter to place them out of the way. “The bouquet is the real star here, uh, I picked them out very carefully.” You tucked your arms behind your back. “I, uh- I brushed up on flower language, and I hope I got it right.”

Now Douxie may have been a Victorian once upon a time but he had barely any surviving memory of the frilly flower language people socialized through in those days. But thankfully, the blooms in the bouquet in front of him were straight forward enough that he did in fact get the message without taking too much gear turning in that noggin of his. Although, the friendly daisies with the red roses were kind of sending him some mixed signals. He knew what he wanted them to mean, but he could just be misinterpreting. You seemed to notice his hesitation.

“Um, there’s a card too. In the flowers somewhere. That. Probably explains what I’m trying to say a little clearer.” You carded your fingers through your hair. You had anticipated not being able to really speak with your voice, as you barely could now, so you’d written it all out on the card as backup. But damn, that card had everything on it. You maybe got a little carried away. There wasn’t going to be any going back from this.

Douxie dug out the card from amidst the blooms. It was handmade, with a cheesy little drawing on the front complete with a pun. And then he opened it. It was almost solid black with ink. Yeah, you had written that much in there. Both sides. And a little on the back. Wow. Doux tried his best to keep up a poker face while reading it but failed quickly as the first few lines alone left him flushed. It was true, everything was on it. From how much you adored Douxie as a person, to how much you valued his friendship, to how pretty you thought he was, to how you longed for something more, with him? Douxie felt like his hands were getting the card all sweaty.

It was nerve wracking watching him read that card. It seemed like he was finished, since his eyes stopped raking through it, but now he was staring intensely at the words written on the pages, in a trance. He broke focus, looking to the bouquet, back to the card, and then finally settled on you.

“Wow.”

“… is that a good wow?”

Douxie caught you by surprise. He pulled into a hug. “Yeah, a good wow.”

You and Douxie’s first non-platonic hug? Yes please. You didn’t even mind the flowers pressing into your back. Okay so a few rose thorns were poking you but that was fine. Douxie smelled like something you couldn’t name, but it was spicy, and cozy. He let you go sooner than you were ready to, but he grinned at you as he left to rummage through his things in the back for a vase. He turned to you as he proudly displayed them on the store’s counter, right where he could look at them all workday,

“So, where are we going tonight? For our first date?” Doux chuckled, “and, technically, our first Valentine’s day too.”

[sharktoothedboys]

Tea, Cake and Phone Numbers.

I AM EXCITED ABOUT THIS ONE!!!

====================================================

“Everything will be okay... It will all be fine.”

You stood in front of the full length mirror giving yourself one last look over before leaving for the day and starting your new adventure.

Finally, after years of saving and working yourself to the bone you did it, the tea room you had always dreamt of was yours. You had spent the last 3 months doing a whole re design to exactly how you had always envisioned it and now today was finally here, opening day! Your stomach was in knots as you flipped the sign to open for the first time. 

You really didn’t need to worry though, the tearoom was busy all day with a steady stream of takeaways and eating inside customers, you couldn’t have been happier. At the end of what you would class a successful opening day, you sat at a table, cup of tea in hand, grinning like the Cheshire cat, your blissful moment interrupted by the small jingle of the bell over the door alerting you to a customer. 

Crap, You had forgotten to turn the sign around and lock the door, turning around you opened your mouth to infirm them you were in fact now closed for the day, the words died in your mouth when you saw him, Tall, slender but muscled, long dark hair tied back into a bun and dressed in stylish casual clothing, of course you recognised him, even without his hero costume.

“Oh I am sorry, I didn’t realise...” He began, starting to apologize, noticing the small tea room was closed.

“It’s Fine,” You smiled warmly up at him and gestured for him to take a seat, “What can I get for you?” 

“Are you sure?” His eyes looked full of apology, his expression so sweet and sincere, you felt your stomach begin to flip. 

“Really, Its fine, Now what would you like?” 

“Could I get a chai latte and a slice of the matcha crepe cake? If there is any left of course, My friends swung by earlier and My friend Mina was raving about it to me all day, So I had to come and try it for myself.” He said excitedly, The smile on his face making his eyes twinkle. 

You got him his request and took it over to his table, You watched him tuck in to the cake as you busied yourself with the rest of the closing down procedures, including actually turning the sign to closed this time, He took a book out of his bag and began to read it as he sipped on his latte, his eyes never leaving the pages before him, you smiled a little, noticing that he seemed to be rushing slightly. Draining the last of his coffee, he began to put his book away and stood up. Diving his hand in to his pocket to pay his bill.

“So, did the cake live up to the hype of your friend?” You smiled as you aksed him. 

“It was so good! My other friend, who wouldn’t normally be caught dead in a tea room, would absolutely love it, he is a bit of a tea nerd too. So I will have to drag him down here one day.” His smile showing his pearly whites and you melted a little inside. He was such a long term crush of yours, you didn’t know how you had continued to function while he was around. 

“Then its on the house, For such kind words and promise of future custom.” You winked at him. 

“What, No I couldn’t”

“Its the owners privilege,” You said in a hushed whisper, “Besides, I already cashed up for the day.” 

The toothy smile flashed again as he said goodbye. 

You truly never expected him to return, but return he did, the following week, you surmised that Thursdays were his days off from patrol, With another impossibly handsome man, ordered the same again for himself and a china rose tea and Victoria sponge for the other gentleman, you assumed this was the tea guy he spoke about. You recognised him as a hero too but couldn’t quite place who he was. But you enjoyed the appreciative noises he made while devouring your cake.

It became a weekly thing, sometimes he came alone, sometimes he had one or more friends in tow, Once he turned up with 3 men, all stupidly handsome, and a girl, who was adorably cute and complimented you, your shop and baking skills to no end. Mina was her name and she was forever welcome in your tea shop. Every time He came, you had a friendly chat , A strange kind of friendship began to blossom, even though you didn’t know each others names, besides his hero name, But it still made your heart go all mushy. 

A few months after he started to come in on those Thursdays you always found yourself looking forward to, He appeared at closing time, you looked up surprised to see him as he was very late today, your eyes going wide. 

“Hey” He smiled at you shyly, “Um, I hope you don’t think me weird only, the thing is I really need to ask you something,” Pausing, he took a deep breath, “Um, would you maybe like to go out with me sometime?” 

You smiled and felt your face flush a deep red, you giggled, He looked so shy and adorable as he stumbled over his words, “Sure I would love to.”

“Really?”

No one sounded more surprised than he did, he fished a card out his pocket and a pen, gripping the lid between his teeth as he scribbled something down. 

“This is my personal number, give me a call later and I’ll take you anywhere that will make you smile.”

“I will.” 

Holding the card up to your eyeline, you fought the urge to scream and jump up and down around the tea room in happiness.

“Oh!” He stopped and turned before he left, “I’m Sero, Hanta Sero, Pleased to meet you YN.” He sent a wink your way and left.

you Blushed uncontrollably as you tidied up the place a little faster than normal, you had a phone call to make. 

====================================================

I loved this idea!! My first Sero story tooooo, we love Sero in this house! Hope you guys enjoyed and as always, please, like, follow and re-blog!! Thanks guys!

Love Ezra!!

[thiswasinevitableid]

For the meet uglies, 41, Sternclay, NSFW?

Here you go! And if you're a fan on "Let me be good to you" this has very similar vibes.

41: I’m at the 24/7 gym at 2 in the morning and I thought I was alone so I’m singing in the showers, but when you start singing with me, I’m startled and slip so the first time we meet, we’re both wet and naked

Stern blames the playlist he had on at work for the fact his morning devolves into chaos. He works better to the blues (or 2000s pop hits, but those don’t feel right when going over files on suspicious incidents in Appalachia). So he hums as he rinses the remnants of his workout down the drain. He’d never sing where someone can hear, but since no one is here.

I want a little steam on my clothes

Maybe I could fix things up so they'll go

What's the matter daddy, come on, save my soul

He goes to rinse his hair and realizes the song is still going.

I need some sugar in my bowl, I ain't foolin'

I want some sugar in my bowl

His lizard brain yells two separate messages; “baritone voice very hot” and “oh god who’s there.”

The second message leaps into the driver seat and, in his attempt to turn, peer out of the stall, and be sure it’s just another patron, his foot finds the traces of soap on the floor.

“Shit” He falls backwards out of the stall, thudding to the floor.

“Oh fuck.” A man emerges two stalls to his left, soaking wet and flailing for a towel, “I’m so fucking sorry, I’m so used to singing along with the radio. Are you okay?”

Joseph scans his body, finds nothing broken, “Yes.”

“Thank god.” The other man flicks shaggy hair from his face. In the split second before he gets the towel around his waist, Joseph’s gym manners fail him and he glances down. At least he’s getting several weeks worth of masturbation fodder from this humiliating moment.

“Here man, lemme help you up.”

Joseph takes the offered hand, then grits his teeth and swiftly turns to grab his own towel from where he hung it. He’d rather not show a stranger his ass, but this is how his night is going. As he turns back, he spots the other man quickly redirecting his stare from his ass to the floor.

Once both showers are off, Joseph changes and packs his bag. The stranger is at the mirror, tying his hair back and combing his beard.

“I’m sorry, my singing probably startled you too.”

A shrug of broad shoulders, “I work in kitchens, I’m so used to background noise some of it barely registers. And I always have the radio on when it’s just me in the mornings.”

“Hence the singing along?”

“Yeah, and why I’m here so early. I try to get my exercise in before work. Gotta admit, when I joined this gym I didn’t expect anyone else would be in for a 2 a.m workout.”

“My hours are all over the place. I’m with the FBI and when I’m on a case I tend to, um, lose track of time. Or work way later than I should.” He shoulders his bag, raises his hand in a wave, “it was nice meeting you. Even it was alarming at first.”

“Same to you” the man smiles at him over his shoulders, “and if you’re ever here at zero dark thirty again and want a gym buddy, I’m happy to keep you company.”

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

It’s a month before Joseph runs into him again. He swipes his card at the gym, finds the clank of a weight rack in place of the usual silence. The man from the showers smiles at him as he puts his bag near medicine balls, and when he’s done with his set he crosses the 80s-colored carpet to join him.

“It’s much nicer to see you when I can see you coming.” Joseph smiles politely, not catching his own subtext until the other man blushes.

“No kidding. I, uh, this may sound weird, but could I work-out with you? I’ve been doing the same routine for years because it’s what I know, but it gets so fucking boring.”

“I wouldn’t mind the company, though be warned that I do a lot of core and don’t use the machines all that much.”

“Totally fine. I’m, uh, I’m Barclay, by the way.” He holds out his hand and Joseph pictures twisting it behind his back while pinning him over one of the benches.

Instead, he shakes it, “Joseph.”

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

“I’m serious about skipping this if you need to” Joseph starts up the treadmill as Barclay jogs on the one beside him, “if you’re on your feet all day at work this could make that really uncomfortable.”

“Nah, I’ll be fine.”

It’s the truth; he may not be as in-shape as Joseph, but he’s still pretty fit, and they only do thirty minutes of running. But it’s equally true that he’d rather suffer some extra-sore legs than lose out on a half-hour of his limited time with his friend.

He’d been hoping for someone to spot him and maybe teach him some new lower body exercises, with the added bonus of having some basic things (like music taste and bonkers work schedules) in common. What he’s gotten is someone with a dorky sense of humor, and extensive knowledge of cryptozoology and mystery novels, and the stamina to make engaging conversation about those things while running or working a rowing machine.

It helps that Joseph is so hot that he could caramelize sugar just by looking at it. The glimpses he caught of him when they met were tantalizing; the way his dark hair gradually loosens from it’s gelled state, the way his cheeks turn pink when flushed and sweating, the few times his voice turns truly breathless? Barclay is ready to get on his knees and beg for him to do obscene things in the locker rooms.

What makes this desire impossible to shake is the suspicion that it’s shared. He’s caught Joseph looking at him in a way that isn’t just about his form, and when he shows Barclay a new exercise he stands closer and lingers longer than strictly necessary. And his Freudian slips are so frequent and obvious they may as well be Freudian nightgowns.

Just when he thinks Joseph can’t get any hotter, the agent texts him around their three month mark of working out together warning that he’ll be late. When he arrives, Barclay drops the five pound plate he was moving.

Joseph hasn’t changed clothes. He’s in a full, black suit, shined shoes, and a silver and blue tie that Joseph wants him to take off and loop around Barclays throat instead. The agent smiles with a promise to be right back, seems bemused when he returns to find Barclay in the exact spot and position he left him.

“You okay, big guy?” The nickname is one of the many ways he built a home for himself in Barclays daydreams.

“Uh. Uh, yeah, sorry, got lost in thought. I haven’t started on the full workout, did some extra stretching since I’m kinda tight from yesterday. You wanna do weights first?”

“Sure.”

Their routine lasts about an hour. It’s an act of god that Barclay gets through it unscathed. Joseph is even more hands-on than usual, and his cologne (bergamot and citrus, if Barclay has his scents right) hasn’t had a chance to fade. The most distracting element of the whole morning is his friend’s voice; there’s an edge to it, like a knife in a velvet sheath, and Joseph gives fewer suggestions and more orders.

Barclay wants him to sound like this forever. But only if he can rearrange his life so that he can follow every command.

After a very cold shower, he falls in next to Joseph as they push through the double doors into the warm night. When he reaches his car, the other man touches his cheek.

“Drive safe, big guy.”

He wonders if Joseph can feel him blush in the dark, “I will, agent. I promise.”

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

“I told them to get those dark spots checked” Joseph shakes his head at the notice on the door informing them the gym will be closed for the next two weeks to repair massive water damage in the ceiling.

“I’m just bummed I won’t get to work out with you. It’s not as fun alone in my apartment.”

“You could come over to mine, if we can find a time where it works.”

“I’d love to.”

Barclay double checks that the address on the apartment in front of him matches the one Joseph sent, while trying not to fixate on the text that came with it.

Joseph: Be ready, big guy, I’m going to work you hard

He knocks on the designated door, pushes it open when Joseph calls for him to come in. There’s a yoga mat on the floor and a stationary bike in the corner, and far too little space for two grown men to work out together.

“Do you want me to help move the couch? That might give us...more...room.”

Joseph, in his full suit and dress shoes, leans against the kitchen doorway with a confident smile.

“Y-you’re not working out with me, are you?” Barclay’s hopes hurry to the front of his brain, tripping up his tongue.

“No. I did mine earlier today.” He runs a finger along Barclay’s chest, “I designed a special one, just for you. If you get through it all, you get a reward.”

“What kind?”

Joseph leans in to kiss him softly and swiftly, “I’ll let you fuck me.”

Barclay’s hands fly out to grips his shoulders as he groans, “fuck, babe, really?”

“Really. But first, you have to pick two things from this list.” He hands Barclay a sheet of memo paper with a neatly written list of the lewdest exercises he’s ever seen. He’d offer to do all of them, but then he might not have enough energy to enjoy his reward.

“The, uh, the push ups and the crunches.”

Joseph raises an eyebrow expectantly.

“Please?”

“Okay, big guy, we’ll do those. Get on the mat, push up position.”

Barclay hurriedly obeys. Freshly shined shoes step onto the top edge of the mat.

“We’ll just do thirty today. I’ll count. Ready?”

He nods.

“Good boy. Down, one”

Barclay bends his elbows, only stopping when his lips touch the top of Joseph’s shoes. He holds there a two-count, then rises.

“Down, two.”

He repeats the motion, keeps time with Joseph’s count as a hint of polish curls into his nose. It should be boring, maybe even degrading, but fuck him if it isn’t the hottest fucking thing he’s done in years. Joseph is so put together, so poised, Barclay feels like an unkempt beast next to him in his gym clothes. Yet he’s letting him kiss his lovingly shined shoes, telling him he’s a good boy as he works up a sweat.

“Down, thirty.” Joseph joins him on the floor as Barclay sits back on his heels, “well done. Now, on your back please.”

Barclay lays down. Joseph grabs a silver item from the side table and holds it in front of him. It takes his lust-glazed brain a second to grasp it’s a cock cage.

“Can I put this on you? You’ll have to wear it the rest of the workout.”

“Ohfuckplease.”

Joseph leans forward enough to kiss his chest, then shifts his shorts down to his thighs and locks the cage into place.

“If you need to stop, just say red. Okay?”

He nods frantically.

“Okay?” Joseph repeats with a stern look.

“Okay.”

“Good boy.” Joseph lifts his legs and sets them over his left shoulder. Barclay whimpers as there’s a snap of a latex glove and a pop of lube. Joseph smirks as Barclay whines at his teasing touches.

“Two sets, forty each. Go ahead and count in your head.”

“Okay” He curls his body, only gets through two more crunches before a finger presses in. “fuck!”

“Focus, big guy.” Joseph kisses his knee.

“I am, I’m focusing on the fact you’re a fucking genius.”

“If you lose count, you’ll have to start over” he presses in the second finger, “and that means longer until your reward.”

“I’m, I’m on twenty!”

A kiss to his calf, “Keep going.”

By the time he hits the second “forty” his legs are burning and Joseph is stretching his ass open with three fingers. He pulls them free but keeps Barclays legs in place, tugs the glove off and removes a blue, silicone plug from his jacket pocket . It slides in comfortably, but Barclay whimpers his name all the same.

“You’re doing so well Barclay. Are you ready to keep being my good boy?”

“Yes, please yes.”

Joseph sets his legs on the floor, guides him to his knees so he can pull his shorts up, and then helps him to his feet, pausing to kiss him sweetly and run his lips along his neck.

“Twenty minutes on the bike. Whatever speed you like.”

Barclay eases himself onto the seat, starts pedaling and watches longingly as Joseph heads into the kitchen saying he'll be back in a minute. The plug isn’t too uncomfortable to sit on, so this should be a breeze.

He hunches forward with a moan as it starts vibrating. Joseph strides back into the room, remote control in hand, only stopping to give Barclay another kiss and run his fingers through his hair before dropping onto the couch.

“Let me know when you’re done.” He picks up a copy of Empire and starts reading, heedless of Barclay’s increasingly loud moans.

The vibrator starts and stops, sometimes a gentle buzz and sometimes a furious pulse, and Barclay fights to keep the pedals going under the onslaught, desperate not to lose time and eager to please the man stealing tender, hungry glances at him from the couch.

“Time” He gasps, pulling his feet free from the pedals. Joseph is up and to him before his legs have a chance to wobble. Once he’s on the couch, shirt soaked with sweat, Joseph straddles him and kisses him demandingly, mouth moving from lips to cheek to neck without a care for sweat.

“Will you be a good boy and let me get off on you?”

“You know I fuckin will, fuck, babe, wanna be so fuckin good for youAH, ohgod” He throws his arms around Joseph, clinging and groping as he grinds on the cage and the aching cock within it.

“You look so good like this big guy, exhausted and obedient for me.”

“Yes, yesyes all for you, Joseph, please cum on me.”

“I will baby, don’t worry.” He brushes their lips together, “do you want some more kisses while I do.”

“Uhhuh” He whines, the noise only growing as Joseph kisses him and works his hips recklessly, his hands slipping up Barclays shirt to squeeze his pecs and toy with his nipples. When the tempo of his jerking hips changes, Barclay holds him tighter, needing to feel the way his body tenses and shudders as he cums more than he’s needed anything in his life.

“There” Joseph grins, panting, and pulls the key to the cage from his breast pocket, “now you can have your reward.” He slides to the floor, yanking Barclays shorts with him on the way. The cock cage hits the carpet and then a wet, enthusiastic mouth swallows him almost to the root.

“Ohfuck, Joseph, babe I’m gonna cum in like two seconds you, you might wanna-”

The agent pulls off, lazily licking the head, “I don’t want cum on the carpet, big guy. So be a good boy and cum down my throat.”

He gets exactly three and a half ecstatic thrusts into Joseph’s mouth before his orgasm knocks the breath from him and he cums, moaning out thanks as he does. When he’s spilled the last of it, Joseph sits back, breathing deep and wiping his lips.

“J-joseph? Will you, uh, will you kiss me again?”

The other man clambers into his lap, bitter taste on his tongue when Barclay glides his own against it. When he finally stops to breathe, Joseph pets his beard.

“Was all that okay?”

“So fucking okay. It was incredible. I, I feel so fucking good. Sweaty, but good.”

A kiss on the cheek, “Shower is just down that hall. Go get clean while I order dinner.”

“Okay.” Barclay looks at him with dreamy hope, “do you, uh, wanna do this again sometime?”

“Often. If, um, if that’s okay with you?”

Barclay nods, “as long as we can still work out together? I like doing that with you.”

“Of course, big guy.”

[oikawaplssteponme]

PREVIOUSLY • MASTERLIST

pairing: (prince) Sawamura Daichi x (princess) fem! reader

warnings: none

word count: 1.6k words

synopsis: A childhood lover, a perfect picture, a thoughtful risk, a dashing spark, a resurfaced fling, a beautiful mystery, and an unlikely charmer. With so many flowers in the garden, which do you pick?

a/n: hello loves! i hope you all are doing well :)) reminder that the taglist is still open, just send an ask or leave a comment to be added <3 id love to hear your thoughts and please reblog!! tags have been weird lately so id really appreciate the reblogs :) !

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ⋆*･ﾟ: ☾

Nervous

“Good morning Your Grace! Rise and shine!” Anita came bursting into your room. She opened up your bedroom curtains, revealing the burning sunshine. You grabbed one of your pillows and buried your head under it.

“Oh gosh what time is it…” you groaned.

“Time to start getting ready. I’ll have your breakfast brought in momentarily.” Anita left your room just as quickly as she entered it. You removed the pillow from your head and sat up.

“Oh good you’re up.” Your mother, the queen, entered your room, followed by Anita and your breakfast tray.

“Thank you.”

“Eat up sweetheart. You’ll need your energy for today!” said your mother.

“Why must the ball be so late today?” You asked, “and why have you woken me up so early…”

“It’s the Midnight Ball Y/N! It’s tradition whenever the kingdom of Karasuno comes to visit,” she explained. You nodded.

The Prince of Karasuno would be next on your agenda. You had heard nothing but nice things about him. He was known to be responsible, kind, level headed, everything a future king would need to be.

“Your gown for tonight is getting finished up at the tailor’s. I’ll be picking it up in about an hour or so,” explained Anita.

“I’ll join you,” you said as you took a sip from your tea. Your mother shook her head.

“You have much to prepare for here, darling. Anita can take care of it herself.”

“I’ll only be gone for an hour or two. I promise I’ll be back in time,” you insisted.

“Very well… I’ll make sure your ride is prepared.” Your mother patted the top of your head before leaving your room. You looked at Anita, sighing.

“I suppose this is how things will be for a while. A ball every week, a new dress to try on, and someone new to see.”

“You’ll certainly never be bored, Your Highness. I’ll set out your garments for this morning’s trip and meet you outside.” Anita flashed you a bright smile before heading over to your closet, picking out a simple, light pink dress. She laid it on the chair of your vanity before leaving.

You finished your breakfast and got yourself ready then went to meet Anita outside.

“Ready to go, Your Majesty?” she asked. You smiled.

“Anita you know you can call me Y/N, and yes.”

The ride into town was smooth. It was an exceptionally beautiful day, birds chirping, the sun shining. You waved to whoever you saw as people eagerly noticed your arrival.

You arrived at the tailors right on time. It was a dainty shop, filled with endless piles of fabric and designs to fuel anyone's imagination.

“Good morning Your Royal Highness! Here to pick up your gown for tonight’s ball?” asked Mari, the shop owner.

“The Princess is also in need of one final fitting before we can take the gown back to the castle with us,” explained Anita. Mari nodded.

“Yes yes of course! Right this way my darling!”

She led you and Anita to where the mannequin stood, wearing the dress.

“Wow…”

It was an extravagant gown, black as the midnight sky. The sunlight peeking in from the windows bounced off of the small crystals, making it sparkle. It lastly had a matching cape, since the ball would take place at night.

“Mari you never disappoint, it is truly gorgeous,” you said.

“Oh thank you Princess. Here, let's get you laced up.”

The dress fit you perfectly as expected. It’s sweetheart neckline and floral detail looked stunning on you. Mari packaged up your dress as you waited with Anita.

“We actually have one last stop before we can head back,” she explained.

“Where?” you asked. Anita smiled.

“It seems that your prince has a gift for you.”

You and Anita walked along the streets of town until reaching the flower shop. You breathed in the scents of gardenias and lilies.

“Pick up for Y/N L/N,” explained Anita to the front desk attendant. They scurried off to the back cooler and brought out the biggest arrangement of flowers you had ever seen.

“Oh wow…”

It was a mix of orange and black roses, with a small card peaking out.

‘Until tonight Princess… -D.S.’

“D.S.?” you questioned. Anita chuckled.

“It’s from Prince Sawamura Daichi, Your Majesty.”

“He certainly knows how to make a girl smile,” you whispered.

“He’s perfect…” gushed Anita. You chuckled.

“We’ll see about that…”

~

As the day drew on, you found yourself back at home. You were finally getting ready for the ball, that started in just a few hours. You showered and wrapped yourself up in your silk robe. You walked into your room, where Anita was laying out your dress.

“Anita what do you know about Sawamura Daichi?” you asked. She chuckled nervously.

“Well I don’t know too much...but I know that he is a great leader with a kind heart. He puts others before himself and is devoted to helping others. Anyone would be lucky to have a heart like his.”

“It seems like you know more than you think,” you teased. Anita shook her head.

“Oh my apologies. Here, let's get you laced up.”

Anita cinched you up into your gown. She did your makeup and clipped on your cape.

“Stunning as always,” she smiled.

“Thank you. Shall we go?”

The garden was marvelously decorated with lights and lanterns. There was a grand fountain in the middle of it all, the floor a checkered pattern . The full moon shined above you, making the moonlight bounce off of your gown. You greeted people as they approached you, keeping one eye out for the Prince.

“Excuse me, You Grace?”

You turned around to see a man smiling at you with grey hair.

“Yes?”

“Princess Y/N L/N, I am pleased to introduce you to the marvelous, chivalrous, most handsome-”

“That’s enough Sugawara…”

“Oh right...Prince Sawamura Daichi, Your Majesty.” He moved out of the way, allowing the prince to step forward.

“My apologies, he tends to get carried away,” smiled Daichi. You chuckled.

“I actually liked your introduction,” you teased.

“I’m glad. Would you care to dance?” Sawamura pointed to the dance floor. You nodded.

“I would love to.”

You took his hand and he guided you to the floor, He bowed before you, then placed his hand onto your waist and held up your other hand.

“Thank you for the flowers,” you said. Daichi smiled.

“I’m glad they found you well. I wasn’t sure which flowers were your favorite so I decided to play it safe with roses.”

“I do love roses.”

“Do you have a favorite flower?”

“Not particularly. I love the assortment bouquets, that way I get a little of everything,” you explained.

“I see.”

Daichi spun you around the floor, keeping you close to you. His eyes almost as dark as the midnight sky, you could’ve fallen into them. As your hand rested on his bicep, you could tell just how strong he was. His strong build but gentle smile warmed your heart.

You watched as what looked to be a sweat droplet glided down the side of his forehead. You chuckled.

“Are you nervous?” you asked. Sawamura tilted his head.

“Nervous? What makes you say that?”

“It looks like you’re sweating.”

Daichi patted his forehead with the back of his hand. He smiled.

“That’s not sweat princess, that’s rain.”

The two of you looked up at the sky, seeing the clouds rolling over you. You closed your eyes, starting to feel the soft water trickle down upon you.

“Everyone inside!” shouted the king. People began to rush over to the doors, hiding under the walkway.

“Y/N, darling, you’re gonna get sick!” insisted your mother. As you soon became drenched by the rain, you looked to Daichi, who held onto your hand.

“I have a dance to finish,” you smiled. Daichi grinned, placing his hand back onto your waist and once again, guided you along the dance floor.

It was just the two of you, dazzling under the stormy moonlight. As lightning struck and thunder boomed, you kept your eyes on Sawamura. How he made you laugh, calling you reckless for proposing this idea. Even as the floor became even more slippery, you and Daichi didn’t stop. Soon, the orchestra came back, playing for you. Drums sounding along with the sound of thunder, causing goosebumps on your skin.

The two of you caught your breath, panting as water droplets dripped down your lips. You wrapped your arms around his neck, keeping you balanced. Without realizing it, yours and Sawamura’s foreheads were pressed against each other. Daichi locked eyes with you, placing his hand under your chin.

“I think it’s safe to say that you took my breath away.”

~

The two of you went inside the palace a short time later. Anita brought you both towels to dry yourselves off.

You now sat with the prince on the grand staircase. The two of you talked about all kinds of things. He told you about Karasuno, you told him about what there was to do around your kingdom. He listened happily to every word you had to say.

“You’ll have to show me around soon, I didn’t get to explore much today,” he said. You nodded.

“I would love to do that.”

“Excuse me, Your Highness, we must be going.”

You looked over to the man who entered with the prince earlier. You sighed, almost wishing he didn't have to leave.

“Very well, just one moment please.”

Daichi stood up from the steps. He helped you up as well.

“It was such a pleasure meeting you Y/N. I wish we didn’t have to part so soon,” he smiled.

“As do I. I hope you have safe travels, and the next time you’re here I will happily show you around.” Daichi smiled.

“I would love that.”

He carefully took your hand, kissing the top of it. He took his soaked suit jack and draped it over his shoulder before joining Sugawara. You sighed.

“He really is perfect.”

•

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[symwinter]

Day Seven – Secret Admirer

Written for @felinettenovember. Not my best work, but it’s pretty okay.

Day One

Felix blinked, staring at the envelope and box sitting in his locker. He slipped the card out and tore it open, followed by plucking the letter inside. ‘Because you broke your watch.’ He placed the note down and plucked the box up. Pulling the satin white bow loose, he lifted up the lid, only to be met with a silver pocket watch. He flicked it open. The face consisted of a night sky with a crescent moon. So his admirer had to be in his class. But he didn’t recognize the hand writing. Shrugging, he put the watch and the card in his bag and walked to class. Once inside, he fashioned it to his vest and while Marinette glanced at the chain, she didn’t ask anything, merely sliding into her seat.

Day Two

Once again, when Felix opened his locker he was met with a card and a box. ‘Because you like the author.’ His heart rate quickened as he tore the paper off. His fingers shook as he picked the book up. He loved this author, but wasn’t able to pick up the latest book due to a lack of copies. He thumbed through the pages. It was in English too. Giddiness fluttered through him as he walked to class. “You seem happy.” He looked over to see Juleka at her desk. “New book.” He replied. Juleka gave him a small smile before turning back to her phone, typing away.

During every break, he would read.

Day Three

When Felix opened his locker, an envelope stuck out from a simple paper bag. Like the days prior, he opened the envelope first. ‘To replace the broken one.’ He opened the bag and pulled out a travel mug. He grimaced thinking back to Lila ‘accidentally’ breaking it after he told her to leave him alone. The mug was black, though the light caught the shape of a cat outlined in silver. He lightly chuckled to himself before placing the coffee mug non his bag. After three days in a row, he was fairly certain that whoever was giving him these gifts came in the morning.

Day Four

He arrived to school half an hour earlier, determined to find his admirer. He hid as a people entered the locker room, and five minutes before he usually arrived at school, someone stopped at his locker. He adjusted how he stood and saw the familiar silhouette of Juleka? How bizarre, he was certain she and Rose were involved. After being certain she was gone, he rushed to his locker, practically tearing the door off. Inside was another note and a box. He tore the envelope oven. ‘To add some colour, but not too much.’ He opened the box and was met with three dark coloured ties. While not black, they would go well with his grey clothes. He didn’t bother to hide the new ties. Upon walking by Juleka, she glanced over. “I’m not your admirer but I do know who.” “Will you tell me?” He inquired. She let out what he assumed was a scoff, though it was too quiet to tell. “Should’ve figured.”

Day Five

Today, there was no gift. Just an envelope. He placed his new coffee mug in his locker, adjusted his new tie, and opened the envelope. ‘Meet me on the roof at lunch?’ His heart fluttered. He could barely sit still in class. When Mme. Bustier finally did call class to an end, he practically dashed out of class. He inspected door after door until finally reaching the roof. Only one girl was up there, her dark hair pulled into pigtails. “Marinette?” She jolted and looked up.“Felix?”“It was you? You’re my secret admirer?” She nodded. His heart fluttered. “But-but- your handwriting?” She stood up, cheeks flushed.“Yeah, I knew you would recognize mine so I asked Rose to write them. And I always sleep in so Juleka offered to place them in your locker when she got to school.” Warmth bubbled in his chest and without much thought, he surged forward, pulling the petite designer into a hug.“Thank you Marinette.”“Well I like you. And you deserve nice things.”“Then you deserve the whole world.”“I’ll settle for a date?” Felix smiled softly.“A date sounds lovely.”

[thisbrokenmask]

Simply Meant To Be

pairing: female reader x Kim Taehyung

genre: fluff, romance

word count: 2,573

warnings: fluff. fluff. so much fluff. 

summary: unable to travel to see your families this christmas, you and taehyung decide to have your annual movie marathon on christmas eve, partly to distract you from being away from your families. while watching, taehyung ends up giving you one of your presents early. 

a/n: so, i started writing this ahead of taehyung’s surprise at midnight kst earlier today and i’m already in love with snow flower (and christmas love - i’m hoping to get something out for jimin soon, too!). this changed a few times while i was writing it, but i’m really happy with how it turned out! written for my ‘kim taehyung’ square on my @btsholidaybingo​ card 

*⋆⍋* merry christmas! *⍋⋆* 

“Are you sure we’ve got everything?” you call out as you move through the house, flicking the lights off as you go. “Once I get under that blanket I’m not planning on moving unless I need to pee and, as my personal heater, you’re not allowed to move either.”

You lean against the door frame in the entrance to the lounge, giving your boyfriend a pointed look. He grins lazily from where he sits on the sofa, thick blankets drapes across his lap and an empty space beside him. A few candles are dotted about the room, but the main source of light is the Christmas tree in the corner, its layers of fairy lights bathing the room in a warm yellow glow. The television is dark, a film waiting on pause on the dimmed screen, so the lights of the tree and the dancing flames of the candles are clearly reflected back to you in Taehyung’s dark eyes when he looks up at you.

“I think we’ve got everything, baby,” he assures you fondly, his voice slightly lower than normal from his increasing state of relaxation. He makes a sweeping gesture over the table, where you’ve already prepared a collection of snacks alongside several different drinks for each of you. There are pillows on the floor ready for if either of you wants to get more comfortable, spare blankets folded over the back of the sofa and extra pairs of socks for if either of you find your toes getting chilly. 

You glance over everything once again, making sure nothing else comes to mind in preparation for your Christmas movie marathon. This has been yours and Taehyung’s tradition for the last several years since you first started dating, although the designated day for it has changed nearly every year. 

The first year, when you’d met in the summer between your first and second years at university, you decided to get together over the last weekend before you both went home for the winter holidays. You’d planned on going around some of the Christmas markets held in your university’s city, but a freak snowstorm had kept you both stuck inside. Taehyung had managed to get to your apartment, but he was so cold and soaked through with melting snow that you’d insisted you both stay inside until the snow passed, and a Christmas movie marathon had seemed like a perfectly good alternative to going out. Luckily, you had bought him some pyjamas to keep at yours, so you’d spent nearly the whole weekend cuddled up together in flannel and fleece.  

The following year, with nearly 18 months of a relationship under your belts, Taehyung had surprised you by setting up what could only be described as a mountain of blankets, quilts, pillows and cushions in his bedroom, even though his other roommates were already gone for Christmas. The two of you had decided to wait until after graduation the following summer before you moved in together, telling your parents you were going to move to wherever you could both get jobs. The truth was that you were both a little worried you wouldn’t study enough if you lived together, already insatiable whenever you saw each other: being around each other all the time meant that the two of you burrowing down in bed together all day was pretty much guaranteed. You’d very quickly found it difficult to differentiate between your love and your lust, such a strong desire to always be with him making it difficult to focus on anything else whenever you were together. 

By the time your third Christmas together rolled around, you had matching keys in your pockets and a whole lounge to yourselves. You’d bundled up together the weekend before Christmas, your plans meaning that you would be spending Christmas Eve with your parents before driving over to Taehyung’s on Christmas night. 

This year, however, you were unable to travel to either of your childhood homes. With the pandemic still ravaging the world and leaving despair in its wake, your family plans revolved around several video calls at different times on Christmas Day. 

With no one’s house to drive to this year, Taehyung had suggested the two of you had your at-home cinema night on Christmas Eve instead. Not only did he try to cheer you up by pointing out it would be your first Christmas alone as a couple, letting you start some new traditions of your own, it would also distract you from the fact that neither of you could be with your parents, your siblings or your grandparents. 

And so, here you were, running around the house to make sure you had everything you could possibly want to ensure you didn’t have to move from Taehyung’s arms unless absolutely necessary. It was your first Christmas Eve together, just the two of you, and you wanted to spend as much of it wrapped up in each other’s arms as possible. 

“Come here, baby,” Taehyung beckons you over, holding his arms wide as he stretches his legs out across the sofa, inviting you to come and lie on his chest like you always did. Unable to resist him and the inviting promise of his embrace, you shuffle across the room, rolling your eyes playfully at the triumphant grin on his face. As soon as you are in his reach, a large hand wraps around your wrist and gently tugs you closer, impatient to feel your body against his. Despite his eagerness, you still take care to gently climb over him and position yourself between his legs, your chest resting just below his own and your head tucked under his chin. 

You giggle into his neck, wrapping your arms around him and holding on tightly as he throws the blankets over both of you, jostling you slightly as he makes sure they cover your feet. When he is satisfied you’re both tucked in and comfortable, he leans back into the pillow propped up behind his head and sighs happily. 

“Finally, feels like a lifetime since I’ve held you,” he murmurs as he presses a kiss to your crown, his arms easily wrapping around your torso and encasing you in his warmth. You laugh against him, nuzzling your nose against his pulse point and basking in the subtle teakwood cologne he knows you love. 

“It’s literally been a few hours-”

“A lifetime,” he repeats with emphasis, holding you as close to himself as he could, a chuckle vibrating in his chest when you continue to laugh happily against him. While your plans are to watch all of your favourite Christmas films back-to-back until you fall asleep, neither of you are rushing to end the quiet cuddle session you’d fallen into, each of you closing your eyes to revel in the moment of peace and calm. 

Eventually, though, you shift slightly to get more comfortable and the moment is broken, your eyes slowly opening to see Taehyung looking down at you. It still amazes you after all these years how deep and dark his eyes are, so easy as it was for you to get lost in their rich depths. With the candles and fairy lights twinkling in them, it’s like staring into your own little private pools of the starry night sky, but it’s the unadulterated love that you find there that is the final push in taking your breath away every time . 

“I love you,” he says, his deep timbre rumbling in his chest beneath you. 

“I love you, too,” you return, reaching up to press a chaste kiss to his mouth, pulling back before you could get lost in the softness of his lips. You could easily lose an evening that way. “Are you comfortable?” you ask, your hand snaking out from under the blankets to grab the remote.

“Incredibly,” he confirms, pulling you tighter again once the screen comes to life. 

You mostly watched the same films every year, revisiting the classics from your childhood and reliving the wonder of Christmas from your younger years, although a few new films had snuck onto the list over the years, pushing others off the roster of the big event. They were still watched throughout December, but only your favourites were saved for the movie marathon. 

It’s partway through The Nightmare Before Christmas, your third film of the night, and you’re quietly singing along to Jack and Sally’s declarations of being ‘simply meant to be’ (as you do every year), when you feel eyes on you. You glance up to see Taehyung watching you, not the film, with an unfamiliar look in his eyes that makes your voice die in your throat.

You hold his gaze for a few seconds, tilting your head with a little smile to ask him if he’s okay, but he simply continues to study you fondly, as if he’s seeing you for the first time. You’ve seen this look many times over the years, knowing that you’re just as guilty of getting caught up in Taehyung as he is in you. 

But something about this particular time feels different. Maybe it’s the way he doesn’t shake his head to pull himself out of his daydreams after a few seconds, or maybe it’s the way he gently lifts his hand to brush your hair from your face, letting his palm rest against your cheek afterwards. You can feel a rapid heartbeat against your ribcage but you’re not sure if it’s yours or Taehyung’s, or both. 

The intensity of Taehyung’s gaze took a little while for you to get used to when you’d first started dating over four years ago, but it had been a long time since it had made you as nervous as it did now. Assuming Taehyung was simply lost in his thoughts, you slowly lowered your head back down to his chest, but two fingers under your chin gently guided you back to look at him. 

He stares directly into your eyes, wets his lips and swallows.

“Marry me.”

The words take several seconds to sink in and register in your brain. You almost ask him to repeat himself, unsure you aren’t just daydreaming about this moment like you had started to do more frequently as of late, but the sincerity in his eyes is all the confirmation you need to know that you heard him loud and clear. 

The fingers under your chin gently traced along the slope of your jawline until his palm once again cupped your cheek. Taehyung waited patiently, his thumb gently caressing the apple of your cheek as he gave you the time to process.

“Are you asking me or telling me?” is all you can think to say, and Taehyung laughs.

“I know I’ve caught you off guard,” he says quietly, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I’ll admit this isn’t how I was planning to do this, but I couldn’t wait any longer. Not even another day,” he chuckles, throwing a quick glance to the smaller-than-usual pile of presents under the tree. 

He looks back to you, taking in your wide, teary eyes and he almost melts into the sofa cushions with how much he loves you. He’s certain he’s thought about what he would say in this moment over a thousand times in the last few weeks, but in this moment, with you lying on his chest in the glow of candles and the Christmas tree, he’s forgotten every word he planned to say. He simply opens his heart and lets everything pour out.

“I’ve loved you unreservedly for the last four and a half years, and I’ve known I’ve wanted to marry you since our third date, when I felt sick and you not only said it was fine, but took me home, took care of me and tucked me in.” 

You smiled at the memory despite the tears beginning to pool in your eyes, the realisation that he’d wanted to marry you for so long filling your heart beyond capacity. It hadn’t been long after that night that you yourself had realised you wanted to spend a long time with Taehyung - your whole life, if he would let you - when he’d sent you a massive bouquet of your favourite flowers to say thank you for taking care of him. He’d been incredibly apologetic, offering to redo the date whenever you wanted, and you’d realised that you hadn’t minded looking after him at all. 

“I realised then just how wonderful you were, that you were not only willing to end a date early on my behalf without complaint, but you also selflessly gave up the rest of your evening to look after a guy you’d only known for two weeks.”

You didn’t know how to explain to him that you’d already known then that you loved him, that you were willing to give up any evening to make sure he was okay and happy, so you simply nodded with a watery smile. You brought your own hand up to cover his where it still rested against your cheek, the other still pressed into his chest where it had been all evening. 

“I was planning on doing this tomorrow,” he says, the smallest frown pulling at his brows as he looks away for a second, almost like he’s disappointed in himself for not being able to hold out for a few more hours. “The ring is under the tree, hidden in one of your other presents,” he says, looking back to you. “I can get it now, if you want-” you clutch his hand tightly and shake your head, not ready to be even a few feet apart from him, and he laughs. “-or I can still propose to you in the morning?” You nod fiercely, a strangled laugh escaping through the tears that now flow freely down your cheeks. Taehyung wipes your tears away with his thumb, allowing you to see that his own eyes are glassy. “Okay, tomorrow. I’ll give you the ring tomorrow,” he concedes, gaze soft. “I’m still proposing now, though. I want to spend my life with you, y/n. I can’t imagine waking up with anyone else, watching Christmas movies and building blanket forts with anyone else… starting a family with anyone else.”

He can’t help a chuckle or two slipping past his lips when your eyes widen comically, but he simply turns his hand around to take a hold of yours, lacing your fingers together. 

“We’ll get to that,” he says. “I just know that I want that with you, y/n. And the longer I’m with you, the more I know I want it. And the harder it gets to figure out when the right moment is, because every moment is the right moment to tell you how much I love you. So will you, y/n? Will you marry me?”

You feel his hand squeeze yours, his heart beating strongly against your chest, the film still playing on forgotten beside you. You look up at the man you’ve spent your last few years beside, and realise that you can’t remember a time when you didn’t consider him to be your future. Details changed with the seasons, unable to choose between a large rural getaway or a piece of suburban paradise, but there was one constant, and that was Kim Taehyung. 

“Yes,” you whispered, leaning up to press your lips together. “A million times, yes.”

if you’d like to read any more of my writings, you can visit my masterlist 

[sylvie-writes]

Bad: The Unfortunate Ending

Inspired by this song ➳ Bad by Lennon Stella

(Ransom Drysdale x wife reader)

A/n: this is my first attempt at angst so here we go... 

Disclaimer: not part of my fall writing, this is just a lil something bc I needed to write, it makes me happier after days as today. 

Warnings: Cheating, mild profanity, shitty angst & writing. Ransom being an asshole (rip all the soft Ransom stories I’ve written)

Series Masterlist

Never in a thousand years would you have seen yourself sitting in Boston’s most expensive and high end restaurant, a steak simmering at 500 degrees laying out in front of you, and the Ransom Drysdale sweetly smiling at you.

“Wait, before you start eating, I have something to ask you, love.” 

Was he gonna break up with you?

Ransom reached over his plate to reach your hand gently bringing it to his lips while maintaining eye contact with your shocked expression, soon calming.

Oh whew.

The man then set down your hand, and folded up the napkin in his lap before rounding the table, getting down on one knee. Your eyes were already welling up with tears, making it impossible to see all the people staring at you and Ransom.

“(y/n) (l/n)...

… … ...

Will you marry me?” 

After his adoring speech, the four little words came out and the man on his knee was staring up at you like you were a goddess. Overwhelmed, you happily spewed out the words of acknowledgement while Ransom slipped the lavish diamond onto your ring finger, kissing the now ringed finger before scooping you up from your chair, the two of you in a deep kiss amidst the cheers.

A few months later the two of you got married, and everything was a dream. You had a lovely house, and a husband who was practically your closest friend. The two of you spent all your time together, told every joke, talked all the time. Believe or not but Mr. Fancy Pants had preferred that you got married sooner rather than having an extravagant wedding ceremony. 

So that's what you did. One lovely Monday morning, you and Ransom drove to the courthouse, in the beamer, as if it were just any other day. 

You thought then and there, that this was it. Life was finally playing in your favor...

 All the little gifts you gave

I call it over compensating

Feeling just like a princess

Every answer was always yes

You had me living in a dream

 “Oh Ransom!” You played with the little puppy down at your feet, a red ribbon adoring it’s small, yet fluffy neck.The little thing jumped into your arms, causing you to lift off the floor, walking closer to Ransom. 

“Why did you get me a puppy, Hugh?” 

He just cheekily smiled and shrugged, walking by to kiss your cheek. “No reason!” 

You just laughed it off before going outside to play fetch with the energetic fur baby. 

Ransom always treated you for no reason, at times you really hated him for it, but not once would he ever let up.

About four months into your marriage, Harlan had invited you and Ransom to some writer’s charity gala, a black and white party, meaning Ransom was gonna rent a tux and you’d find an overly priced yet attractive dress. 

So, one Saturday afternoon, you and Ransom went to the mall, getting fitted for your clothes. You weren’t about the name brands like Ransom was, but today, Ransom now had full advantage to shower you in expensive clothing having already picked his tux yesterday. His sneaky little plan to go dress shopping with you.

“What about this one?” Your husband held up a black slip dress designed by Prada. Curiously you walked up to him, checking the tag to see its $1,000 price. In all honesty, from the looks of the dress, you had assumed Ransom picked up a simple dress. Sure, it was pretty but you weren’t about to pay that much just for the name. For what it is worth, you could sew and tailor the damn thing yourself. 

“That’s ridiculous, Ransom. I’m not about to pay that much.” 

You went to go walk off before you felt Ransom’s hot breath in your ear.

“Who said you were paying?”

Turning around, you playfully pushed him in the chest to which he laughed and peppered kisses all over your face.

“Ransom! Stop, you’re making a scene!”

He pulled away for a minute, your giggles ceasing.

“Let me treat you and I will stop.”

Quickly, the man resumed his attack, your pleas soon becoming words of compliance.

“Fine!”

His signature smirk danced across his lips, while his free arm snaked around your waist ushering you to the tailor’s stand. 

 What's forever long to you

Did you say that to her too

Making sure that I'd never know

Callin her while the shower goes

 It was a little after midnight and Ransom wasn’t home yet, today he had been out with some friends, not inviting you. Your only company for the day was your precious little puppy, who was curled up against your stomach. The endless worry had kept you up all night as you mindlessly stroked the puppy’s back, trying to calm your own nerves.

Eventually, an hour later, the hallway light shone under the door, Ransom coming in. He was met with your worried look and came to rush over to your side.

“You scared me to death, Ransom. Two hours ago, you were supposed to be back!” 

“I know. I know. I’m so sorry baby. Now, get some sleep, I love you. Forever, my love.”

Ransom gently pulled the blanket over you, kissing you goodnight, then heading off to shower.

Turning on the shower, Ransom pulled the phone out of his pocket, scrolling to the bottom of his contacts and dialing, Blair❤️. 

“Hey baby, today was amazing Ranny!”

A deep chuckle left Ransom’s throat, the woman on the phone giggling.

“I know, angel. You are the best, love ya forever, Sweetheart.” 

Blair continued to gush over the phone, recalling the earlier events of the day at her house where Ransom had spent the whole day. (leaving that sentence to the eye of the beholder.)

Shower, and you, long forgotten, Ransom spent the rest of the night talking to the woman, leaving the bedroom to go downstairs, assuming you were already asleep.

Ironically, that night, you dreamt of all the times you and Ransom would stay up just talking and laughing...

Then crawl back in bed, it's a shame

I probably should've known better

I probably should've known better

 It was 4 am, and Blair had fallen asleep on the phone, leaving Ransom to bid her goodbye and get some shut eye himself. 

It was like sleeping next to a stranger, the warmth of the bed now gone. Coldness, replacing the loving embrace.

About two months ago, your work gave its employees a week off for the holidays. It was once in a blue moon that you got to see your family, so you seized this opportunity. You wished your husband could have come, but Ransom had to stay behind to help Harlan with an upcoming novel. In truth, Ransom never saw himself reverting back to his bad ways, but who knows what entices people to change.

One night, Ransom went out for a drink, a young lady, about twenty-seven years old, came up to the sulking man. He was drowning his sorrows in a couple of beers, wishing he were there with you. Oh how he missed you!

“Hey stranger.”

The sultry voice hit too close to home for Ransom, a voice he knew all too well.

And let’s just say a few drinks later, he came to remember his old fling as Blair.

 I wish that you would've treated me bad

The truth is you couldn't have loved me better

Now I'm left feeling twice as sad

I wish you would've treated me bad bad bad

It felt like you were living a hallmark movie, and never would you have thought any different.

Your feet were propped on the Ransom’s lap as the two of you laid down Uno cards on the coffee table. 

“Ransom?”

“Yes, darling?”

You set the Uno cards in your lap, adjusting on the couch so that you’d be straddling Ransom. The man brightly smiling at you, enveloping you with his muscular arms. In complete bliss, you leaned forward and kissed him, a slow and intimate kiss. Time completely stopped as you were just in your own little world. 

He treated you so well, you’d never be prepared for the heartbreak that’d ensue. 

 I wasn't catching on to you

Blinded by your lips so smooth

Excusing all of your gotta goes

Leaving me to be all alone

 “Do you really have to go, Ransom?” 

Your arms were wrapped around the man’s neck, pleading for him to stay. A small frown made a way onto his lips before he leaned in to kiss you deeply, pulling away from your lips while you were still trying to catch up. 

“I gotta go.”

With that, he rushed out. A business meeting was it? Or was it Harlan? You couldn’t remember. For the past two months, you’ve been accepting all of his excuses, soon all of them blending, yet in the end you were always left standing in the house, alone with your dog.

It's okay, you told yourself. Sure he forgot your birthday last month. It’s fine.

As long as he didn't forget your wedding anniversary next month, everything would be fine…

Right?

 Then you took my heart just the same

I probably should've known better

I probably should've known better

 No it wasn’t fine. He forgot your anniversary. He forgot you. In the mornings, he’d no longer stay with you, instead finding an excuse to rush out, no kisses, not even hugs, Rarely did the two of you talk and soon, it became your new normal.

You should’ve known better.

 Every word you said you was sweet but you was lying

Everything you covered making up just to keep to me from crying

Another late night, Ransom had gone to help his mother at some dinner party for her business, or so he said. He left early this morning, claiming he was gonna help set up and that he’d be home by 8. Yet, here you are, watching the 11 o’clock news, waiting for your husband’s arrival since he had left you with radio silence all day.

Suddenly, the door flew open, a sloppily dressed Ransom, stumbling in, clearly piss-ass drunk.

“Oh you're awake!”

You walked over to help him sit on the couch, just as you were about to turn off the lamp beside the couch, you noticed a tint of red lipstick on Ransom’s lips. You hadn’t worn any lipstick today, right?

Tenderly, you traced your thumb over his lips, as his eyes gazed into yours.

“Ransom, what’s on your lips?”

In a poor attempt, Ransom went to grab your hand, missing and instead grabbing your shoulder, leaning in to kiss you, instead getting your ear. 

“It’s nothing, (y/n).” 

His head was laying on your shoulder, as he was about to fall asleep, his energy suddenly gone.

“Really? It seems like something, you have a woman’s lipstick on your lips for god sake!”

Ransom then perked up and hugged you tightly, whispering reassuring words to you. Drunkenly, his words mashed together, causing you to barely understand his “comforting” speech. 

“I love you so much, sweetheart, I’d never do that to you.”

Sweetheart, a name once reserved for you, now unknowingly shared with another woman.

Believing his lies, because why not? He had never given you a reason not to trust him, not yet anyway.

 I wish that you would've treated me bad

The truth is you couldn't have loved me better

Now I'm left feeling twice as sad

I wish you would've treated me bad bad bad

 That very next week, Ransom had to leave once again, this time a boys’ trip to the club. You thought nothing of it, now used to his absence, keeping to yourself with the dog and some friends.

Later that afternoon, you were enjoying a sandwich and lemonade out on the front porch when a Maseratti pulled into the driveway, a familiar man stepping out.

“(y/n)! Is Ransom home?”

The man pulled you into an embrace, leaving you confused at his presence.

“Why are you here Oliver? Ransom said he was out with you and James.”

Oliver just shrugged his shoulders, he too jumping to the same conclusion. At this point you were just seeing red, storming into the house, Oliver following. You practically were stomping holes into the hallway for your footsteps were as heavy as your heart. Maybe all along you had been suspicious deep inside, maybe you just never wanted to believe it.

Then finding Ransom’s phone in his nightstand, you came back into the doorway to meet Oliver. If your suspicions were true, you’d like to at least embarrass the dumbass in front of his friend. They all knew he was a playboy at heart, but after you, every one had assumed he’d matured somewhat. 

Clearly, they were all wrong.

Your husband was the biggest idiot in the world, making his password your anniversary date, for he was so forgetful. You found this hilarious, because he forgot your first wedding anniversary, god you were so naive. 

Was this wrong? Sleuthing through his phone?

Sure. But it could never equal up to what you were about to find. 

Opening text messages, 50 unread, all from you, your messages definitely ignored as a woman named Blair was at the top of his messages. 

You gagged at the heart by her name, one that used to be by yours. Scrolling through the texts, you found yourself growing angrier by the minute, finally, you just lost it. With great vehemence, you slammed the phone against the floor, making it shatter everywhere, Oliver and your dog, slightly jumping.

It was then that it hit you.

You crashed to the floor, crying hysterically, as the world came crashing down with you. Oliver, crouching down on the floor, trying to calm your sobs.

Tonight you were gonna confront that backstabbing, no good, cheating son of a bitch.

 Tell me the truth

Was it worth it was I worth it for you

'Cause we were perfect we working til you

Forgot to tell me you been seeing someone else for six years

It was 9 pm and you hadn’t expected Ransom’s arrival for another hour or two, so you spent the time packing your bags and drinking some coffee, preparing yourself to tear the man a new one. 

This time, there wasn’t a slammed door signaling Ransom’s presence, rather soft footsteps and his low voice, like the old days.

Ha, the one time he gets home early. Ehh you were ready anyway

“Hey babe! Oooh can I have some?”

Before you could answer, Ransom took your mug and a few swigs of coffee, handing it back to you, placing a kiss on your head. In utter surprise, you looked up at the man who just smiled down at you.

“You look I haven’t kissed you in weeks, my love.”

And with that he pecked your lips quickly, walking to the counter, you still trying to process what had just happened. 

It was true. He hadn’t kissed you in weeks.

No, you weren’t gonna let him win this time.

“It’s because you haven’t.”

Confusion swirled around on Ransom’s face, allowing you to continue.

“You haven’t kissed me in weeks. But you have kissed Blair, I'm sure.” 

The coffee mug in his hand dropped onto his foot, shattering, leaving you smirking at the small victory.

Heartbreak can make one go insane. Afterall, you are losing the one person you loved most, losing yourself along with them. 

“For months I have put up with your bullshit…” 

A good ten minutes passed of you yelling at Ransom, the man unexpectedly letting you finish.

“You’re a cheating, son of a bitch.”

Angrily, you ripped off the wedding ring, now noticing Ransom wasn’t even wearing his, for god knows how long too. Once upon a time, he’d proudly wear it all the time.

“(y/n) wait--”

Ransom grabbed your arm before you slapped him, the man slightly stunned.

“No. I’m tired of your excuses, I’m tired of letting you win. You and Brittany, should have an amazing life together, that is if you can even commit to her like you told me.”

A whisper of defeat left his mouth.

“It’s Blair…”

“The hell with it! You broke my heart Ransom! I knew it was too fucking good to be true. DAMN IT, I LOVED YOU.”

Hysterically laughing, you looked like a mad woman, lowering your voice just a bit.

“You know what makes this hurt 2x worse? I thought you had actually loved me too, because it seemed like it.”

You broke into tears, your heart in a thousand pieces, rushing away to grab your bags, Ransom not even trying to fight, knowing you're too strong this time. He let the best thing that ever happened to him slip away. 

Ages ago you could remember the lovely times with the man you once would die for, yet...

Your love was just an illusion. 

 I wish that you would've treated me bad

The truth is you couldn't have loved me better

Now I'm left feeling twice as sad

I wish you would've treated me bad bad bad

I wish that you would've treated me bad

Truth is you couldn't have loved me better

Now I'm left feeling twice as sad

I wish you would've treated me bad bad bad

a/n: maybe i should stay away from angst bc this sucked.

Updated a/n: this is gonna be a series! If you’d like to be on the taglist lemme know!!

[janicho88]

Fire, Fur & Mistletoe  Chapter 4

 Pairing- Eventual Dean x Female Reader.

Word Count-3,045

Warning- Mentions of car accidents.  Possible swearing. Slight angst. Fluff.

Summary- A rewrite of the Nine Lives of Christmas, Hallmark movie. AU, Dean is a firefighter who doesn’t do commitment, the Holiday’s don’t mean much to him.  Coming home after a shift he finds a dog in trouble.  The reader is a veterinary student who works in a coffee shop trying to make it to graduation, until someone causes problems there for her.  She isn’t interested in finding anyone other than her own dog until after she finishes school.  Do their four legged friends have other plans?

A/N- This series is written for @spnchristmasbingo​.  The square filled for this chapter is presents.  The first two chapters will stay closer to the movie than the rest will.   This has its own tag list and it is open.  That way I am not tagging anyone who doesn’t want to be tagged in Christmas stories.   This story is unbeta’d.

Header by the amazing @winchest09

Divider from freepngimg.com

Series Masterlist   The next morning you were in the kitchen looking through ads when Dean came down.  “I was wondering what do you think about doing our Christmas shopping together?  I thought it would be fun to tackle the stores together?”

“I usually just do Visa gift cards, or regular gift cards.”

“Do you remember how you were saying you can’t recall the last time you really enjoyed Christmas?”

“Yeah, you really think going to the mall is going to help me feel..”  He paused looking at you with a smirk, “Christmassy?”

“I think going and seeing all the festive decorations could help.  One afternoon, we can make it fun, I promise.”

“I’m holding you to that.”

“So you’ll go?”

“Yeah, we can give it a shot.”

“I’m going to help you do it right this year.  We can go to the mall after your shift tomorrow.”

“I can hardly wait,” he grumbles as you leave the kitchen. 

Dean’s shift started earlier today, he headed in just before noon.  They started off busy before things slowed down.  They were called out for two car accidents, the light snow falling today causing some problems.  Dispatch also had them at two nursing homes.  The first resident was fine and back on their feet before they and the paramedics left.  The second was a fall and the poor guy wasn’t happy about having to go to the hospital to be checked out further.

When things calmed down later Dean was sitting in the common room with Sam and Benny. Those two watching the game, Dean going through paint samples.

“What are you trying to figure out now?”  Sam wanted to know.

“Which color is going to look best in the dining room. I picked up some new color swatches on the way in.  I have a light green, pale blue, a really light grey, or a cream.”

“Which one does the design genius living with you like?” Benny questioned.

“She thought maybe a light green would go with the trim in there.”

“I’d go with what she likes so you don’t have to redo it in a year or so.”

“What’s being redone in a year?”  Bobby asked walking in.

“I hope to have sold it by then.”

“Dean’s trying to pick a paint color, we told him to go with what Y/N picked so he wouldn’t have to redo it later when everything is all done and she doesn’t like it.”

“Yep, need to keep the women happy.”  Bobby agrees.

“How’s the girlfriend doing while we are on that subject?”  His brother wanted to know.

“You’ve all lost me. Still don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Are you sure about that Chief?  You do spend a lot of time with her.  You trust her opinion to remodel your house.”

“What was your excuse earlier about not going out with us tomorrow?  Oh right you have plans with Y/N, like a date.”

“What was going on the other day when you couldn’t come over and watch the game with me and your brother? Pretty sure you were with her again.”

“How many dates are you going to have before you realize you are dating?”

“Are you two morons done?  We aren’t dating.  I trust her opinion, because she’s good at this.  Still selling the house when I’m done.  She just wanted to get a tree for the house, so we picked one up and decorated it that night.”

“It really took you a couple hours to pick up a tree, did you carry it home.”

“No, we went to a tree farm, not a tree lot.”

“Hold up.  You actually went and cut down a tree for her?  You wouldn’t do that for me. We always went to the tree lot and just grabbed one.  You are more gone on this girl than you think.”

“You are reading too much into a simple tree, Sam.”

“What are you busy doing when the shifts over?”  Benny wanted to know.

“Apparently Christmas shopping.  She thinks it will be fun to do it together.”

“You, Dean Winchester are going Christmas shopping?”

“Why are you saying it like that?”

“I wasn’t sure you knew what a mall was, I’ve been getting a gift certificate from you for years now.”

“And I’ve had enough of this conversation, I’m going to go clean the truck or something.”

Dean walked out to the sound of the guy's laughter.

When his shift ended the next day Dean headed home to shower and change so he would be ready to head to the mall with you.  You were in the living room sitting with the dogs when he came down.

“I’m ready if you are.”

“I’m good to go.  I’ll see you babies later.”  Giving the dogs each a little hug you got up to follow Dean to the truck.

As you are entering the mall Dean turns to you.  “I realized I haven’t told you lately, thanks for your help with the house.  I might just be able to sell it sooner than I thought.  I really appreciate all you have been doing.”

That caught you off guard.  “Oh yeah, no problem.”  You had gotten wrapped up in staying with him you kind of forgot it was temporary, and that wasn’t really his home.

“That’s really great.  You didn’t just fix a house this time, you created a beautiful home.  Some family is going to be incredibly lucky.”

Dean nods, sneaking a glance at you, “Yeah they are.”

“Alright, who’s on your list?” You were eager to change the subject.

“My brother and his girlfriend, Jess.  Bobby, he’s the Fire Chief.  Cas and Benny, you met all them at the station when you found Miracle.”

“Okay.  Any ideas on what to get?”

“Gift cards.”

“No.”

“Then I don't know.”

“You’re helpful.  What is your brother’s girlfriend like, what kind of things does she like?”

“Um, she’s a nurse.  She likes my brother.  I think she likes the beach.”  This might be harder than you thought. 

“What about any of the guys?”  

“Sam likes Jess, and healthy crap like green shakes. He’s always bringing some into work. Benny wants a girlfriend.   Cas, who knows.  He’s a little different some days.  He does like to sit and think, and bees. He’s a tad obsessed with them.  Chief likes, um his job, family, Miracle.”

“Okay, so where do you want to start?”

“That store sells gift cards to multiple places.”  He points to a big store behind you. 

“The next time you’re at work I’m going to paint the living room hot pink if you mention gift cards again in the next hour.”

Dean starts to open his mouth but isn’t too sure how serious you are, so he shuts it again and rethinks what he wants to say.  “What do you need to get?”  He asks instead.

“A gift for my sister and brother-in-law, then a few friends.  I have a thought for your brother if you want to hear it?”

“Sure, what are you thinking?

“The bookstore might have a recipe book for different health drinks, maybe we can find a little smoothie maker so he could make them fresh at the station instead of bringing and storing them.” 

Dean thinks about if for a minute, “He would actually probably like that, although I hate to enable his bad habit.”

Laughing at his jab at his brother you head toward your destination.

The book store is your first stop, while there you browse through the shelves to see if anything else catches your eye.   Finding a book, The Buzz about Bees, you show it to Dean who puts it in the cart for Cas. As you were heading to the check out, Dean started laughing at a book which caught his eye.

“What’s so funny?”

“I have to get this for Bobby, it’s Tori Spelling's autobiography.”

“Um, okay. That’s a random gift.”

“Bobby is a closet fan.  Big fan actually.  Not very many people know.”

“I’m sure he’ll be thrilled.”  Maybe you should have let him get his boss a gift card.

At the sporting goods store he found some fishing gear for Benny who likes to spend time on his sometimes girlfriend boat.  Dean figured they were due to get back together soon. 

While there you found part of your sister's gift.  You got her an extra magazine for her off duty gun, and a new cleaning kit.  The woman loved her weapons. 

Heading to the next store you came across some Santa hats and antlers you made Dean try on with you and take some selfies.  He grumbled about it at first but he did seem to have fun with it, making silly faces in the photos. 

With your hands full you took what you had out to the truck so you didn’t have to carry it to the rest of the stores.  The fishing gear was a little big to lug around.

Coming back inside Dean suggested a quick stop at the food court for a snack before hitting more stores.  

You grabbed your drinks of choice and a couple of cookies and sat down for a few minutes. Dean was complaining because none of them sold pie.  The mall was starting to get busier and people were hustling everywhere.  

“Do you enjoy shopping and all this craziness?”  Dean asked, drawing your attention away from people watching.

“Generally no.  I’m a get in get out person.  My sister and I used to try and go together, but she’s busier with work and she has Doug to go with.  I’m used to doing most things on my own now.   It’s better if you have someone with you, which is why I thought we could have fun with it.”

“I will admit, this hasn’t been as bad as I thought it would be.  You did make it fun. Thank you for that.”

“No problem,” you give him a small smile and go back to drinking your coffee. 

The next stop was the pet store for some treats for your favorite four legged friends.  You passed stockings on the way in and went to pick one up.

“Dakota needs a new stocking, does Miracle have one yet?”

“No, he doesn’t have a stocking.  I don’t think I even have one.”

“Well, we need to remedy that for the both of you.”

“Of course we do.”

There weren’t many stockings left.  They were on one side of a middle aisle display, the back side had various balls and kongs.  The few stockings that  were there were on the back of a shelf behind some toys.  You had to move the toys out of your way to pick through the stockings.  With one arm full of squeaking toys you used one hand to look at the stockings.

“Do you need help?”

“No, I’m good.”

“Uh huh.”

You found two white and red stockings you liked so you were pulling them out, when your elbow hit a toy still on the shelf, trying to use your arm to keep it up on the shelf you missed the toy and hit the display instead.  Apparently you used more force than you meant because the display you were looking at tipped backward and hit the one behind it.  This sent various balls and kongs bouncing to the ground. 

Dean was leaning against a wall with his arms crossed watching, “Now do you need help?”

“It appears so.”

Other people in the store did their best to avoid your mess while the two of you cleaned it up.  Getting the last toy back on the shelf you pick up the stockings and turn to Dean.  “What do you think about these?”

“I think we aren’t going to go through that again just so you can pick out a different one. So let’s go with those and head out before you knock over the display of canned food.”

“You don’t want to clean that up too?”

“Let’s save that one for the next time we’re here.”

Sam’s girlfriend was a little harder than you thought since you didn’t know her and Dean wasn’t much help.  You ran with his comment about her liking the beach and picked up some scented lotions and bath bombs along with hand cream.  Being a nurse her hands would be constantly washed and most likely very dry.

In a men’s store you found a new tie for your brother in law to go with the briefcase organizer you found for him. 

You found a mug that Charlie would get a kick out of.  You also came across a Hermione Granger bobblehead she would like. 

You had picked up a couple small things for your old coworkers, Claire and Kevin.  You did miss working with those two. 

There was one more person on your list, but it was hard with him right next to you.  

Dean’s shopping was done, he had picked up some little things to complete Bobby and Cas’ gifts.  

Browsing the picture frames as you walked by you saw one you had to get. 

 You had the perfect picture to put inside.  Dean had texted you a picture from the station one day of him and Miracle.  Miracle was wearing Dean’s firehat, both were in front of the fire truck.

You passed Santa in his village the mall had put up.  “Are you sure you don’t want to ask Santa for anything this year?”

“I told you Sweetheart, he and I are extremely close.  I’m good.”

“If you say so.”

“I think you need to go see Santa though.”

“What me?”

“Yep, you keep trying to send me so why don’t you go tell him your wish.”  Dean stood there smirking at you, fully believing you wouldn’t do it.

“Okay.”

“Okay, you’re going to go up there?”

“Yep.”  You went and got in line behind a group of young children, who all turned to stare at you.  Oh this wasn’t awkward at all. Dean had walked off while you stood in line waiting your turn.  A part of you thought about walking away and telling Dean you had gone through the line already when he returned. 

“Got you something.”  Too late, he’s back.  He was handing you a bag and trying to hold back a smile.

Warily you took the bag and opened it up, chuckling when you saw what was inside.  “I’m going to guess I’m supposed to wear this up there?”

“You know it.”

Dean stood next to you in line as you waited, when you were the next one up, you took the elf hat he gave you out of the bag and put it on your head.  “How do I look?”

“Like Santa’s perfect helper.”

Heading up you were fairly certain Santa was looking for a child with you, and finally realized there wasn’t one.  “Ho ho ho, what can Santa bring you for Christmas, miss?”

While in line you had been thinking about what to say when you go up here.  “I have a friend over there who has had a rough time of it over the years.  He’s lost his Christmas spirit and the belief in happy endings.  I wish he could find that again.”

“Well, that’s some Christmas wish.”  He looks over at Dean who’s smiling at the two of you.  “It looks like someone is already working on bringing that Christmas spirit back to him.  Santa will see what he can do to help.  Is there anything for you?”

“Not unless your workshop is looking for another elf.” 

Giving you a candy cane he wishes you a Merry Christmas and sends you off.

“So what did you ask Santa for?”

“I can’t tell you or it won’t come true.”

“I think you are confusing Santa with birthday wishes.”

“Either way, I’m not telling you.  You can ask Santa since you are so close though.”

Dean just shakes his head at you.

Behind Santa was a Christmas shop and you dragged Dean inside with you to find him a stocking.   Holding up a Grinch stocking he shook his head, next you tried Superman.

“I’m sorry you have me mistaken for someone else, I’m Batman.”

You looked around.  “You aren’t the only one.  Sorry, Batman is all sold out.  There is Batgirl though.”

“I’ll keep looking.”

“Pink snowflakes?”

“I’m really starting to doubt your decorating tastes now.”

You laughed at that and went through a few more stockings.

“What kind of crazy is on your stocking?”

“It’s the same one I had growing up, classic red and white with my name in glitter.  It looks like that one over there.”

Dean walked over where you had pointed and looked at those.  “That’s what I want too, I don’t need flashy or cartoons.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yep.”

Finishing your shopping you were on your way back to the truck to head home.  After unloading the packages in the living room Dean headed for the kitchen.

“Are you good with ordering pizza for dinner?”

“I can make something up really quick.”

“I know you could, but I thought we had to wrap all that stuff we got today.  I figured we didn’t need another mess.”

“If you want that’s fine with me.”

You made sure to take what you had for Dean up to your apartment before you came back to start wrapping anything else.  When the pizza was ordered Dean did his best to help you out.  You were surprised by how well he did.  

“You buy gift cards for people, I wouldn’t think you had practice with wrapping.”

“We have to wrap all the donated toys for the kids every Christmas, so I get my fair share of practice with that.  Bobby wouldn’t let us hand out sloppily wrapped gifts to the kids.”

The two of you took a break from wrapping when the pizza arrived then went back to finishing it up. When the presents are wrapped and under the tree Dean builds a fire and you go off to make some popcorn.  When you come back the stockings are all hung over the fireplace.

  The two of you get comfy on the couch with another Christmas movie playing while you enjoy the fire and the sight of the tree and gifts around you.

Thank you for reading!!

Chapter 5

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