#mal would just grumble away

[meviesdust]

im going bowling w my friends tomorrow and now i desperately wanna draw mevie on a cute little bowling date

[cosmal]

also!!! sirius giving shy!you your first hickey 😵‍💫 he’s so gentle at first, but once you start making noises and gasping he gets a tad bit rough. he ends up accidentally leaving a bright purple mark on your neck that doesn’t go away for days. unfortunately james and remus see it and the teasing is relentless

marked up

mal i love u this request is amazing.

summary — sirius gives you a hickey. james and remus think it’s amusing.

content — sirius black x fem!reader, hickies, shy!reader

Sirius has his face in your neck and he’s been home for a solid five minutes.

You’re in his bed and he’s on top of you. His hip over your stomach, an arm across your chest that’s curled up behind your ear to hold your face back.

“Is that,” he mumbles, smattering quick, wet kisses over your skin. He breathes in, “is that a new perfume?”

You angle your head upwards to escape his relentless mouth, face towards the ceiling. You can feel the beginnings of shy laughter bubble low in your chest.

“Yeah,” you say a little breathless, a lot distracted. “Yeah, you bought it.”

He nudges the patch of skin under your jaw. “Did I?”

He’s so close to your sweet spot you feel like you can’t breathe. Your chest stutters when he finds it and all you can do is hum what you hope sounds like a yes.

Sirius sets a cruel path across your neck, nipping and nudging. You think you have an idea on what he’s about to do. Your hands tighten in their grip where you have them in his dress shirt. He still smells like work.

He opens his mouth and the pressure is barely there. You’ve gone quiet and Sirius notices. “How was your day, lovely?”

You bite your lip. “Uh—“ This close you worry Sirius can feel the thumping of your heart under your skin. You breathe deeply to contain it and pretend he doesn’t know how nervous you are just from how warm you’ve gotten. “It was— it was okay.”

“Yeah?”

You don’t continue. His lips part and you shiver instead. He’s slow and gentle at first, though you suspect it’s only the beginning. The pressure builds and your neck feels warm.

“Sirius,” you gasp. He grunts into your neck.

His teeth graze your skin and your hands reach up to tug at his hair as rough as you can allow yourself to. You think how at the beginning of your relationship you would’ve had a flustered fit if you had your boyfriend this close to your neck. Now you’re pulling him closer.

He bites down gently and you get a little gaspy. Pawing at the soft material at his shirt. Sirius would continue if he had it in him. If he hears your little whimpers any longer he might implode. He grunts a pleased laugh and pulls back with a wet smack.

He leans on his elbow, bringing a hand up to your neck. Pressing his thumb into the damp spot, he coos.

“Pretty,” he says absentmindedly.

Your hands fly to your neck. “Is that gonna leave a spot?”

Sirius chuckles, smoothing over the bullied skin gently, “Yeah, lovely.”

You cover your warming face with your hands and nudge his leg with a socked foot. “Sirius,” you whine, “really?”

He leans down to pry your hands away, you let him, not too willingly you might add, when he puckers his lips for a kiss. “Yes, really,” he grins. “It’ll look good.”

“Everyone’ll see it.”

“That’s the whole point!” he snorts. You can’t look him in the face.

“Remus is gonna have a field day.”

-

Remus does have a field day. So does James.

“Y/N, lovely,” James gasps when they find you on Sirius’ couch later that night.

“James…” you murmur, confused.

“What is that?”

He points at your neck and you feign obliviousness. “What?”

“On your neck…” Remus supplies. Smarmy.

“Boys….” You hear Sirius warn. A low grumble from the kitchen.

“Oh, um—” You hide your warming face behind a cushion.

“You’ve been mauled!” James says when he gets closer.

“Should we call someone?” Remus adds. Both their eyes glisten with mirth as they eye each other over the sofa. You’d whack them both if you hadn’t sunk into the couch.

“Ambulance?” James gawks, “The police? Was it Sirius?”

Remus goes to poke it. You swat his hand away with a confidence you barely have. “Stop it! Leave me alone or I’ll kick you both out.”

James snorts as he throws himself into the seat next to you. “You get marked up once and you think you can throw us out of our best mate’s flat!”

Remus looks amused as he sits down as well. “Marked up? She’s been attacked.” You roll your eyes. The mark is tiny. Barely there. You’re surprised they can even see it under the lack of lighting in Sirius’s flat.

“Aw, do you want one too, Prongs?” Sirius teases, making grabby hands at James.

He stands from his seat. “Don’t touch me!”

“C’mere,” Sirius laughs.

“No!”

Sirius chases a roaring James around the house while you and Remus sit back and hold back bouts of laughter. You forget about the hickey almost immediately.

That is until later that night in bed with Sirius when he murmurs how you’re all his until he falls asleep.

[elexaria]

homebody! reader x könig drabble

kö would be such a good partner idc like i have brainrot about being his cute little housewife and hes my favourite grumpy but tender middle aged man I NEED HIM

you had never really been the type of person to settle down, always scoffing at the thought of being a house body, pottering around cleaning and doing boring shit.

but for him, its different.

you were used to könig’s deployments by now, and though you still feared for his life when he was on longer missions, you had enough trust and faith in him to know he would always come home back to you.

“as if i would ever leave your side, schatzi” he often hummed into your crown, taking in the gentle smell of your shampoo as he’d nuzzle into your locks.

“but what if—“

“Wenn ich für jedes Mal, wenn du sagst “aber was wäre, wenn“ einen Euro hätte .. i would be a rich man.” (if i had a euro for every time you said “but what if”..)

when könig proposed you leaving your job, adamant he could afford for you to stay at home, you complained about how boring it would be when he wasn’t home. he swore up and down that, believe him, you would never be bored. you wanna go see your friends and have cocktails? just let him know, your kö will look after you. you think the kitchen could do with a revamp? hey, so long as you don’t throw away the nice fancy blender he got for his smoothies, he doesn’t care.

and, weirdly, you enjoy cleaning now. it breaks up the monotony of the wait, the excitement building up inside you as you know he’ll finally be home. and that’s what makes it easier to get through the mundane house cleaning, knowing he gets to come home to a clean home after months of grime and sweat.

with that, you still find yourself twitch as you hear the front door unlock. könig lets out a sigh as he drops his duffle bag on the floor, his eyes closing for a moment as he physically relaxes just from taking one step into his home.

almost as if he has a sixth sense for you, könig walks into the kitchen. with three large paces, he’s towering over you. black grease paint smudged around his eyes, his sniper hood and mask in his hands. he hasn’t maintained a decent shave, wry blonde stubble peppering his cheekbones. with a fond smile, you reach out to gently stroke his cheek.

he doesnt even smile back, he just grunts as he lowers himself down, wrapping his bulky arms just around your figure, eyes closing as he rests in the crook of your neck. his musky smell is a familiar one, one hes often annoyed about and insists its not okay for him to smell like that around you. you laugh at how anal he is about hygiene, insisting he doesn’t even smell bad, it’s a strangely comforting smell. and it kind of turns you on, in a weird way.

but that’s besides the point. he’s so tired, his body softening as he holds you. your hand strokes the back of his head, fingernails gently raking his scalp with a comforting touch. he’s melting, right there, just for you. he lets out a few grumbles, ones you’ve come to learn are ones of satisfaction. god knows what he’s saying, it’s neither german nor english. gernglish?

and that’s why you don’t mind the lonely nights where he’s away, where it’s only you laying in bed, consciously aware of how big the room feels without könig’s large bouldering frame to fill it.

because in these tender moments, where he’s resting with his head on your shoulder while his arms wrap around you from behind, eyes closed as you make him a comforting meal to welcome him back, you don’t even remember what it was like to even be alone in the first place.

<3

[argisthebulwark]

'I'd Kill For You' vs 'I'd Die For You'

summary: who would fight and who would lay down their life in place of yours? gn reader, no pronouns or y/n used. feat: Brynjolf, Farkas, Cicero, Rune, Mercer, Miraak, Teldryn, Erik warnings: canon typical non-graphic blood/injury/death

Brynjolf would die for you. He can’t bring himself to take a life - Gallus never mixed words when teaching Brynjolf that lesson. But he would gladly die in your place. He begs you to leave him and save yourself, to get as far away as you can before Mercer’s Frenzy spell. His knuckles are white as he struggles to keep the blade pointed away from you despite the magicka taking hold of his mind. "Please, you have to get away. Let me handle this traitor. If there is love for me in your heart then you need to run and not look back."

Farkas would kill for you. He would lay waste to an entire camp if you asked. Silver Hand or run of the mill bandits it makes no difference to Farkas - he’d cut down anyone threatening your life.  "You're not getting away from me that easy. I'm not burying you 'til I drink you under the table one more time."

Cicero would kill for you in a heartbeat. He’s been waiting. Please ask him to kill for you. Daggers are in hand awaiting your word. He’s already mapping out the order in which he’ll take down anyone who looks at you wrong. You are his Listener, after all. It is his duty to keep you safe from harm.  "Loyal Cicero strikes at your command, dearest Listener. Just say the word."

Rune would die for you without thinking. He’d jump in front of the killing blow meant for you. He would let you cry into his armor, would wipe your tears when you demand to know why he would do such a thing. He would tell you that you still have so much work to do, the rest of the Guild relies on you too much to let you die. "The rest of them, they need you. Go on and make me proud, yeah?"

Mercer would begrudgingly kill for you. He’d try to spin it so you don’t think it has anything to do with you but there’s no mistaking it - he saved you. He’d grumble something about you being more useful alive than dead but you both know. Even if he refuses to admit it he’d kill almost anyone to keep you safe.  "Don't let it go to your head. The moment you stop bein' useful I'm tossing you back to the wolves."

Miraak would only die for you. When it comes down to it, when his sole hope for survival is ending your life he can’t bring himself to do it. He lets you kill him because he knows what you mean to the rest of the world. He’s realized that even if his life stretched on for another millennia it would be worthless without you. "I cannot face it without you, Mal Dov. I have wasted enough lifetimes to mourn the one I might have lived with you."

Teldryn would kill for you. The moment he spots you in trouble, surrounded on all sides and outnumbered by bandits all the memories would come flooding back. The grief of losing a close friend and patron. He couldn’t lose you. He’d rush in without a thought, fending off swords and arrows at your side. "Can't have you dying and ruining my fine reputation. I am Morrowind's finest bladesman, you're not dying on my watch."

Erik would die for you. He’d do anything for you. After all you’ve done for him - reigniting his dreams of becoming an adventurer, helping him escape the family farm, seeing the world at his side, he will not allow you to die. Laying in your arms he reminds you that he’s loved every moment spent in your company. "I wanted to grow old with you. I wanted to see everything with you."

[corpsebasil]

Could you do a Nikolai x reader one, where there's a lot of pinning and in the rain confession in the end ?

Ohhhhh yes

Just Stay -> Nikolaiiiiii

summary: when you and Nikolai break up, you don’t want to spoil the reunion in Kerch with each other’s bullshit

He’d made you swear not to say anything, and you’d agreed.

You’d practically thrown yourself into Alina’s arms when you saw her; she’d grown even more beautiful since you last saw the girl and Mal, at her side, even more rugged somehow.

“The treasure of my heart!” She cooed, pinching your cheek as Mal gave you a one armed hug like he would a sister.

“You look good Y/N. Nice to see you. Now where’s…” Mal trailed off and sprinted, leaping onto Nikolai so fast the two men toppled to the floor.

You laughed at the sight and tried to ignore the twinge that went through you at the sight. The four of you had always been close. Always. Alina nudged you and raised a brow.

“Those two will never stop being brothers.” She giggled, tugging you along. “Come on. The Crows are here. They’re dying to see you!”

You followed, watching as Nikolai pushed himself to his feet on the docks, laughing as he dusted dirt off his pants. Then his eyes slid to yours and his smiled tightened. You forced yourself to extract yourself from Alina, mumbling about ‘you know how fiancés are’ and moving to Nikolai’s side.

“Sweetheart.” You greeted him, and Mal winked at him before chasing after Alina.

“Darling.” He smiled politely, tone completely lacking any sign of tension.

“Need help with your bag?” You offered, tilting your head with a smirk as he looked you up and down. “Princely muscles are so delicate.”

He raised a brow and flexed his arm, giving you a perfect view of the corded golden skin. Saints, his arms had gotten even bigger since you’d last seen him. You’d tried not to ogle him the entire ship ride to Kerch, and your face had reddened when he caught your glances.

It had been six months. Six months since he’d come to your rooms and told you it was over. No explanation. Nothing. Just a calm, ‘I’m sorry, but I cant marry you’ and he left. After spending the entire night in utter numbness, unable to even summon a tear through your shock, you sought out the prince. It was an arranged marriage, sure, but you two loved each other. You shared stories, kisses, beds—you loved him. Desperately. And when you knocked on his door, he was gone.

He was gone, and the staff said they didn’t know when he’d be back or where he’d went. So you’d packed your bags and went back to Fjerda that same morning.

“Try not to pop a vein.” You told him, raising a brow at his flex. He smiled coyly and rolled his eyes, taking a step forward.

“I hear princesses are delicate too. How are those dainty fingers of yours doing, Love?” He took your hands in his, his, warm, calloused thumbs running over your palms as if to test the smoothness, and you fought every instinct to rip away. Especially when his hands turned your own over, both of you looking at the Lantsov ring resting where it had used to sit before. “Your hands are just as soft as I remember.” He chuckled weakly, blue eyes finding your own.

Your smile faltered and you pulled your hands back slowly, feigning wiping something off your bodice as you turned away. The ring was still heavy. The guards had taken it from you after you and Nikolai had split, not allowing you to take it off Palace grounds. As if you wanted the damn reminder anyways.

“We should catch up with them.” You said, not looking back as you followed Alina and Mal.

-

“Fucking hell.” You mumbled, dropping your bag on the floor as you entered the room at the Inn that Alina had arranged for you. Nikolai didn’t seem any more pleased than you, grumbling something as he dumped his bag on the floor beside yours.

“Left or right side?”

“You think I wanna share a bed with you?”

He paused. “What if one of the group comes in during the middle of the night?”

“For what? Why could they possibly have a reason to come in?”

“I don’t know, Y/N. A fire drill?”

You cursed and dropped onto the bed, splaying out as you shut your eyes. You had a pounding headache—had since you’d seen him again—and the proximity was making it worse. That mint smell of him along with his expensive cologne and, underneath that, the scent that was his alone? It was making you dizzy.

“How long do we have to keep this up?” You asked, flinging your arms above your head. Your fingers brushed his thighs and you jerked them away, looking up at him with a glare. He was acting innocent, whistling a tune as if he wasn’t just leaning his entire bottom half over you to snatch up a pillow. “And keep your junk out of my face.”

“Never had an issue with it befor—hey!” He exclaimed when you whacked him with the nearest pillow, and hard. “Calm down! I’m just messing with you.” At your icy glare his expression sobered, and he sat on the bed next to your head. “We pretend—I mean, they’ve wanted to see us together for so long—until we leave, I guess. Or we stage a fight believable enough that they think we would’ve broken up.”

“Why’d you emphasize it?”

“What?”

“You said ‘we’ in a weird way. Like us breaking up was impossible.” You sat up on an elbow, eyes searching his face. “We did break up, Nik, remember?” Your chest tightened, and you tried to force away the memories that rose.

Like the way you still reached for his side of your bed sometimes when you woke up, or when you had a nightmare, your mind too slow to remember you weren’t in Ravka.

Or the way you’d stolen one of his shirts and slept with it for a week straight before a maid saw it in your dirty clothes and washed it. You’d struck her for it and immediately regretted it, but the agony of not having his scent anymore made you drop to your knees and sob.

How you hardly ate—hardly slept—for two months without him.

And then there was when you’d heard rumors of him courting someone else in Ravka. A different princess perhaps, or a lady. That news had holed you up in your room for a week.

It killed you that he seemed to be completely happy and unbothered by your reunion. As if he hadn’t broken your heart into a million pieces and left you alone without so much as an explanation. You stared at him now, watching his expression change from seriousness to shame, and you turned your head away.

“You can come up with the plan.” You mumbled, climbing out of the bed and stepping to the floor. His silence was as heavy as a blanket over your shoulders, suffocating you. “I’m tired of reliving our breakup every day of my fucking life.”

You heard a small strangled sound come from his throat but you didn’t turn around, not when you shut the door behind you.

-

That night, you met up with Alina, Mal, and Nina at the Crow Club, Inej, Jesper, and Kaz busy doing god knows what. You found yourself seated in a crowded booth next to Nikolai, one leg slung over his thigh, his arm around your shoulders.

The pose was so familiar, one you’d done a hundred times, and maybe it was the muscle memory of it that made you ache so much. Neither of you had spoken on the way to the Club; you because you had absolutely no desire to talk to him ever again if unnecessary; him because his head was so full of grief over your words it was eating him alive.

I’m tired of reliving our breakup every day of my fucking life.

What was he even supposed to say to that?

He was watching you now, his smile wide and relaxed as his thumb ran small circles against your shoulder-blade. The others couldn’t see but it didn’t matter. He’d been craving your skin, your smell, all of you since he’d left, and now that he had you in his arms again, at least for the next two days, he was going to soak in every second of it.

“When’s the wedding?” Nina asked, popping an olive into her mouth as she wiggled her eyebrows. If she heard the way the two of you’s heart rates picked up, she chalked it up to excitement.

“We haven’t picked—” You started, just as Nikolai said, “Working on a venue.” The two of you glanced at one another, eyes snapping like electric cords before looking back to Nina. You dug your sharp nails into his thigh as he bit back a groan. “It’s still early days.”

“Early days?” Alina scoffed, raising her dark brows. “It’s been…what, three years now? Rather long for a royal engagement.” She laughed. No one in the group usually mentioned the fact that the both of you were royals, and the reminder sometimes stung. “Mal and I have been engaged for like two months and we’re getting married within the next few weeks.” Then she gasped, reaching out to take your hand. “You have to be a bridesmaid! Please please pleaaaase?”

She’d already asked you in her letter, the one she’d sent to Nikolai, addressed to the both of you. He’d sent a copy to Fjerda, along with his plea for the both of you to play nice and see Alina so there was no confusion about your relationship before her special day.

“I’ll try my best.” You said, smiling tightly as you squeezed her hand. Nikolai had already agreed to be Mal’s best man but to be honest? You wouldn’t be attending that wedding. You couldn’t stomach it.

“Oh please please come on!”

“Alina.” Nina mumbled, shooting the girl a look, and Alina raised a brow.

“What?”

“Let her breathe. She’s travelled a long way.” The Heartrender said, smiling as she slid all-too-knowing eyes to yours. You looked away, hoping she couldn’t see the pain in your eyes as you pressed your cheek against Nikolai’s shoulder, breathing him in.

The others began discussing wedding preparations when Nikolai’s fingers began to run across the nape of your neck, threading through your hair. When you looped you arms around his waist as if to snuggle him, you were surprised to see goosebumps jump up on the skin of his arm. And then you were surprised to hear his slight intake of breath, his hand that wasn’t on your neck moving under the table to touch your knee.

You swallowed.

“What do you think, Nik?” Mal asked, and the prince blinked quickly.

“Hmm?”

“About going on the Volkvolny. For the honeymoon?”

“Oh.” Nikolai’s brows knit. “You and Alina or—?”

“Duh.” Alina laughed, but she looked confused. “Aren’t you listening?”

“Of course, sorry. That sounds great.”

“Thank you.” Mal told him with a genuine smile, and then your breath caught when his hand pushed the hem of your dress up, only far enough to slide against the smooth skin of your knee.

You missed his touch. God you missed it, but… You moved away from him and stood, giving the others a sorrowful look that was easy not to fake.

“I’m feeling sick, guys. I’m sorry.” You said, a hand on your stomach. You were queasy, actually. “I’m gonna go to the Inn. See you for breakfast?”

“Yeah..” Alina smiled faintly, but it dropped when you left, headed out into the night sky.

You’d barely been ten seconds out the door before Nikolai sprinted after you, grabbing your hand. You ripped it away and whirled to him, holding your hands up in a placating gesture. He was breathing a bit heavily, eyebrows furrowed as he watched you.

“What is it?” He asked, scanning you with his eyes. “Are you sick? Do you need to puke or—”

“Just go inside, Nikolai. I just want to go to bed, okay?”

“Alina was excited to talk to you about the wedding. She has all these plans and—”

”I’m not going to the wedding.” You snapped, staring at him like he was crazy person. “I’ll be in Fjerda by then. I have a life now, Nik.”

He swallowed.

“But she’s your friend. Your best friend.”

“She used to be my best friend.” You argued. “She hasn’t seen me since—” you paused. “It doesn’t matter.” You turned and he once again jumped in front of you, halting your tracks.

“What do you mean used to?”

God did you have to spell it out for him?

“My friends are your friends.” You said, shaking your head. “When you broke off the engagement you effectively cut me off from all of my existing friendships. Cant you see that?”

“Oh.” He said dumbly and you pushed past him again. He still trailed after you though. “But cant you try to make it?” He asked, even as you gritted your teeth. “It’s a special day for her and—”

“And what?” You were stunned by the sharpness by your tone, more so by the sound of a barely suppressed sob in your throat. Nikolai looked alarmed as well. “And watch you stand up beside an altar? All while I’m sitting there, picturing me beside you? I—” you covered your hand with your mouth and turned away, shaking your head. “No. I’m not going to the wedding with you, Nikolai. I’m not going to go anywhere near a wedding with you, ever.”

“You cannot mean that.”

“Then read my lips.” You turned, glaring fiercely, barely a foot from the prince. “I’d. Rather. Die.”

This time he didn’t follow, not as you hurried back to the Inn, eager to go to sleep. You’d leave in the morning, you decided. And as you curled up in the cold bed, empty and vast around you, you fell asleep the way you usually did, counting down, imagining it was his arms hugging you to sleep instead of your own.

-

You jolted awake around four in the morning to a warm body pressed to your back. At first you thought you were dreaming, but no. Nikolai’s soft breaths stirred the hair at the back of your neck, his face buried in your shoulder as he slept. His arm was looped around your waist, hoping you tight against him. You were tense but then, against better judgement, relaxed into his hold.

It’d been so long. Long enough for you to pretend, at least for one sleepy moment, that this was real. That he still loved you. That he still… still…

You woke again, eyes snapping open to see light in the windows. You heard a groan and tensed up again. Nikolai’s legs had become tangled with yours, your head resting on his bicep as both his arms wrapped around you. You had no idea how you’d gotten like that but it felt so good, you didn’t dare move.

“Y/N…” Nikolai mumbled against your neck and you waited for him to tense up. To pull away. Instead, he pressed a kiss against your bare shoulder, revealed by your nightgown, and you got chills, your stomach twisting. “Missed this..missed…you.”

“You’re just half asleep.” You argued, voice a faint whisper. You heard an incoherent mumble and felt a slow nod that made you frown.

“Didn’t want to go…” he moaned, holding you closer, “…made…me..” and then a soft snore left him, and your eyes were so wide you didn’t know what to do or think.

“Nik?” You asked, heart hammering, but he was fast asleep. “Nik?”

You laid for a moment, mind whirling, before you sat up. You shook him roughly, pushing his arms off of you, and he groaned as he rubbed his eyes.

“My love.” He grumbled, still half asleep. “It’s early.”

“Don’t call me—“ you paused, exasperated. “What the fuck were you saying? Who made you? Made you do what?”

This time his eyes opened, reality sinking visibly into his expression as he sat up, his sleepy face growing hard. He shook his head quickly, slinging his legs over the side of the bed.

“Nothing. I was dreaming.”

“But you…” You swallowed. “Don’t lie to me. I know when you’re lying.”

“I’m taking a shower.” He mumbled, pulling away when you touched his arm, and you watched him pad sleepily into the bathroom, his shoulders stiff.

Afterwards, after waiting in tense silence for almost twenty minutes, he slunk out of the bathroom, blue eyes meeting yours. His chest was bare and—and—

“What the—” You stood up quickly, moving forward. Your eyes drank in the skin of him, yes, but they lingered on the scar on his shoulder. A fresh, still pink scar, slightly raised. A bullet wound. “When did this happen?” You breathed, eyes meeting his own. Searching.

He swallowed.

“I um..” he trailed off, looking away from you with a look of shame on his face. “I cant talk about it.”

“Nikolai.”

“Im not allowed, Y/N, okay? It’s not important.” He moved past you to grab a shirt, getting dressed quickly. You didn’t look lower than his waistline as he dropped the towel, tugging trousers up his hips. “Let’s just meet up with Alina and Mal, alright? I don’t want to cause drama for them.”

“For them?” You stared at his back, tense even through the fabric. “You got shot and you don’t want to cause drama for them?” Your throat grew tight. “What about me?”

“This isn’t about you.”

“Then what is it about, Nikolai? Because the last time I saw you, you certainly hadn’t had that—”

“Just leave it, Y/N.” He snapped, voice sharper than you’d ever heard it. You hated the immediate well of tears that rose in your eyes at his tone; never ever had he ever spoken to you even slightly rudely. Never.

“Fine.” You sniffed and turned on your heel, slamming the bathroom door shut behind you.

-

You didn’t go to breakfast.

You refused, adamantly, to be in the same room as him if he wasn’t going to start telling the truth. He was annoyed at first, telling you it was only for a day more, and then pissed, accusing you of being dramatic, and finally, finally he was pleading with you.

“Y/N.” He groaned, following you as you stormed out of the Inn, bag in hand as you walked through the drizzling rain towards the docks. “It’s raining. Go back inside.” You ignored him and he moved quicker to cut you off, his expression pinched. “Please. Just stay with me. Come inside.”

“Stay with you?” Your laugh was so cruel he flinched. “After all your lies and mind games? No. I’m done with you. I never should have come here.”

“Please.” He begged again, reaching out to touch your arms, then stopped himself. “Please. Just—it’s just another day with me, okay?”

“Why did you ask me to come, Nik?” You demanded, angry and hurt. You were exhausted, above all else. “Why couldn’t you have just left me alone? Told the others it didn’t work out?”

“Because.” He was breathing heavily, staring down at you as rain ran down across the curve of his cheekbone and jaw. “I couldn’t—I couldn’t tell them.”

“Why?” You asked, and when he didn’t answer, you nodded. “Of course. More of you not answering me—”

“I wanted to see you.” He blurt out, expression pinched. “I wanted—“ he stopped, shaking his head. “I wanted to see you again. I couldn’t let myself let you go.”

“You have to.” You told him, but there was a pleading note in your own voice as well. “I cant—I cant keep loving you. You have to stop this.”

“I cant.”

“Well then you never should’ve left me!”

“They made me!” He snapped, moving closer. “I’m a solider, Y/N! And when the border skirmishes got worse they were losing soldiers every day.” At your confused look he continued, looking like a man with words threatening to explode from him. “I had no choice. I had to go fight.”

“Then why—”

“Because I couldn’t marry you and leave you alone.” He forced out, his voice dragging over a lump in his throat. “I couldn’t—” he choked and looked away, rubbing his eyes. “If I’d have died and you were left alone, I…I couldn’t let that happen. So I cut you loose.”

You stared at him, tears filling your own eyes.

“And the bullet?”

“I was shot. At the border. I thought I wasn’t going to make it and I’d never been so glad I sent you back to Fjerda. You could’ve fallen in love with someone else. You could’ve been happy.”

“Why didn’t you send for me?” You cried, dropping your bag to the ground. “When you healed—you could have sent for me.”

“I did.” He told you, expression agonized. “And my ambassadors refused to send a single letter until I gave them Alina’s.” He swallowed, reaching out to touch your wet cheek. “I’ve thought about you every single day.”

You felt yourself short of breath.

“And now?” You asked, glancing down at the ring. “Now you’ll send me away again? After all this?”

He peered at you, seeming to deflate.

“How can you even want me?” He asked, and you shook your head, unable to speak as you buried yourself into his chest, his arms looping tight around you as you cried. “I love you. I have always loved you. Every second, every breath I take I yearn for you.”

“I would have stayed.” You whispered, feeling his hands run down your back. “Through anything.”

You heard him sniff before he pulled back, tilting your face up to his.

“Will you still stay now?” He asked, his voice a broken plea. “I cannot live any longer without you by my side.” He brought your hand to his shoulder, over the scar, your palm flattening against his coat. “I would take a thousand of these for you. I would fight every day of my life to keep you with me. Just forgive me, princess. Stay.”

You could only look up at him, your heart cleaving as he bent down and kissed you, and the contact after so long was almost unbearable. The two of you seized one another desperately, tears mixing with the rain. And you would, you decided, as Nikolai’s lips promised you his life. His soul.

You’d stay.

see I told you guys I have a hard time not getting carried away LOL

[kdyism]

THE BOYFRIEND EXPERIENCE.

pairing. renjun x reader

genre + themes. fluff, idiots-to-lovers, friends-to-lovers, fake dating!kind of, college!au kind of, suggestive.

wc. 8.398k / warn. mention of food/cooking, mild cussing, making out, tiktok ref (im sorry)

synopsis. enlisting you as his "someone i'm seeing" excuse, renjun tries to get his mom to stop asking him about his date for his cousin's wedding and in turn, it puts your already tired feelings for him in a loop.

yunn's text. when this happened so fast, it took a day and a half. reblog + comments are appreciated! hope you enjoy it, happy reading! (not proofread yet)

suggested music to listen along! hello, sunset by red velvet. 247 by stayc. it's yours by nct dream. prada by fr:eden. kiss kiss by shinee.

Your eyes following Renjun as he argued with his mother regarding the same topic every time had become routine by the time a month was left for his cousin's wedding, you always hear the excuse, "I am seeing someone, I swear! but it's still not serious enough to bring them to a wedding!" he grumbles, kicking your poor carpet but you know there wasn't any mal intent because he was the one who painstaking went through all the reasonable options at Ikea to get you an aesthetically pleasing carpet without breaking your bank's back.

Renjun paces across your living room angsty with a deep frown on his face, nodding frustrated and you almost were curious about what his mother was saying for him to suddenly shut up and listen to her despite the begrudging expression he wore. He would often tell you about how much he loves his mother and how fighting with her always made him feel like he had to be showered in holy water to feel forgiven but when it came to his love life, no one is excused, not even the first love of his life.

"I know, I know, but come on you know I don't want to bring just anyone to this. If I introduce someone to you guys and break up before—like the fifth anniversary, I won't ever come back home," he sounds exasperated, locking his eyes with yours and you smile because you think he might stick to his words if he ever did, he had always been a stickler to what he did in front of his family's eyes.

The Renjun his family sees is a precious son, he drunkenly said one time and destroying that image of him would kill the innocent, law-abiding son in him forever and he would try to take over the world if that happens.

"I feel like taking that backpacking trip you were going on about now..." Renjun throws himself beside you on the sofa and you laugh at him, pushing yourself to the side to make space for him and he screams into your shoulder, quietly of course.

"When's the wedding?" you pass the flier you had bought from the tourist agency, pulling out your phone and opening up your gcal.

Pouting subtly at the flier, Renjun narrows his eyes at the cost of the trip and gasps, "Can you afford this trip? This is absurd—I retract my statement, I am not taking this trip," he crumbles the flier tossing it away and you inhale, stopping yourself from screaming and glare at him.

"That's my flier, you asshat!"

"I know you can't afford that, stop killing your savings!" he shouts back, holding his hands in front of him and pushing your clawing hands away, "I can take you to my hometown for cheaper than that," Renjun rolls his eyes, cleverly tossing out a suggestion that had been brewing in his mind for some time now.

It was maybe two weeks ago when he was on a call with his mother at home that he thought it up. What if he just took you to the wedding since his mother already suspected that something was up between the two of you. Lying to his dear mother does break his heart but his mother thinking he doesn't attract anyone breaks his own heart, for god's sake, she should know that all her good looks went to him.

Flitting your lashes at him, your lips apart and churning your entire face to express your disbelief, you added a scoff. "Um... would you mind, I don't know, speaking up,"

"I was only thinking," he quickly says, "You want a trip away from here and I need a person to show up with me in a place away from here," shrugging his shoulder nonchalantly, he takes your phone from your hand and scrolls down to December.

"You're going to visit your parents' house the last week of this month and I am leaving the first week of the next— You could just join me," he explains, pressing the 3rd of December and passing the phone back to you. "Our schedules line up—just the way you like it,"

Dropping your jaws at his insolence, your heart races at a speed you hate. His gorgeous face was already a challenge for you and now him asking this of you makes your heart's love cloud heavier. Renjun is skilled at adding more, and more, actions for you to misunderstand and your naïve heart just keeps taking them all, unable to commit to whether you should give up on him or just let your feelings rain on him, just the way he drowns you with his thoughtless actions.

"I will only pay for my food..."

"Wait up... you're going on a trip...Alone with Huang Renjun, the Subject of your affections, Causer of your tantrums, Disturber of my peace?" despite being on call with Jisung, you sigh seeing him roll his eyes wearing a disgusted look on his face in your eyes.

Humming in response, you aren't sure why you even tell him about what's up in your life when all he does is rub your bad decisions on your face—he has a point because you always end up in his apartment, eating your emotions away by downing two buckets of vanilla and strawberry ice cream followed by Jisung's signature strawberry milkshake that he specifically bought a blender for; it never sees the light of day when he doesn't make the strawberry milkshake that you very often crave.

"He gave a compelling reason why this works for the two of us," or maybe you are easily convinced, something that only happens when it involves the said person.

Groaning into the speaker, Jisung begins his usual lecture. "I don't know who is the stupid one here, me or you—But, didn't you say you were going to get over him? What happened to putting some distance between Renjun and you? What happened to going to the cinema with me today? Didn't you see me rush through my assignments to spend time with you?" pausing for dramatic purposes, you bite your lips inhaling heavily. "...Are you saying I did all that for nothing?" Jisung always had your back, when your back was against Renjun.

"Jisung," you said sternly, rolling on your side when you heard your name faintly through your slightly open window.

"You need to shut up,"

Smiling softly, you shake your head getting off your bed. "Chenle told me you were going over to watch the Halloween reruns on his subscription," and as if it were magic, Jisung hangs up on you and you can see him fuming at Chenle already.

For as long as you have carried your feelings for Renjun, Jisung has been on the receiving end of it.

Peeking through your window, you study Renjun's outfit to match with him and you note how cool he looks standing without a care in front of your apartment, scrolling on his phone and the sun looks so good on him, it makes you somewhat jealous how even the environment around him makes your heart go ba-thump when all he did was breathe and the sound of your heart gets louder when you recognize the sweater he wore; he had gotten you matching sweaters when he went on a trip to the Disneyland in Japan with his friends, you were a good minute from melting at his feet when he gave it to you and ran off to his next class.

Quickly grabbing the same sweater from your cupboard, you decide it looks okay with your current outfit and swung your side bag on, rushing out to meet Renjun at the front. Today, you and Renjung were going shopping for something decent to wear for his cousin's wedding. You thought you already had something that would work but Renjun said you should match with his suit which in turn matches with the rest of his family because they decided for each of the families to match colours for the wedding—you wanted to laugh at how committed Renjun must've been to go as far as make you match with his family when you were a pretend date.

"Renjun!" you slap your hand on his side, announcing your arrival and he nods, "My mom said I should buy it for you because I am bringing you," he said, glancing at your face to gauge your reaction and much to his expectation, you vigorously shake your head.

"No way,"

Ignoring you, Renjun leads the way to the mall you decided earlier on and you groan, knowing that once Renjun says okay, he rarely ever changes his mind. Yes he buys you a lot of stuff without asking you but when he does it in front of you, you always end up fighting about how you can pay for your stuff while he says, he invited you so it's only reasonable that he pays. You think that if you ever do date him (in your dreams at least) you'd probably always have petty fights about it.

Following him around the store, you try on many clothes to which he shakes his head for different reasons, "This one looks too tacky," "Ehh, don't you think this makes you look off?" "The shade is wrong," and by the time you tried on your twentieth one, Renjun groans sprawling on the sofa in the dressing lounge and you sigh, taking a seat beside him.

"This is the right shade now Renjun," you shake his side, trying to get his attention and he flails around, "Just...Just do this yourself—shopping for formal wear is too hard,"

Slapping his forearm, you flinch away when he springs up with a glare. "That hurts!" he rubs his side, eyes drinking you in, slowly widening. "This is it!" he jumps, quickly making you stand and he claps his hands in victory, not noticing your flushing cheeks when he pushes your hair up and closing the distance between your faces, his breathe on your side as he checks out your dress closely with a thoughtful expression.

"You look amazing in this," he concludes, nodding while checking the price, and Renjun holds his shock at how expensive it is but the way the dress hugged you made him think this was made just for you, he had to buy it for you—wedding or no wedding. Looking up to face you, Renjun felt the first pang in his heart that would slowly be the undoing of his heart, he thought he felt the last of it a long time ago.

A momentary crush that faded away when he got comfortable around you, Renjun absolutely hated how clammy his hands got when he was around you at the beginning and he also hated the way a single smile from you could render him goo in a single second.

Renjun pushes himself away, his ears burning and the characteristic sweat forming on his palms. "Do you l-like this dress?" unable to face you in fear of a blushing expression, he turns away to call the salesman.

"Yeah... you seem like it a lot," you offhanded said, confused at his awkwardness as he rubs his hand on his jeans; something you thought he got out of a long time ago, and you watch him, getting the salesman to scan the code of your dress and going up to the front to make the payment leaving you to change into your normal clothes.

To be honest, before deciding to get over Renjun, a part of you thought he was interested in you too. From the way he has been sticking with you since your first year in university, despite how he has always been cramming with assignments to the way he has always been buying things for you as if to say he thinks of you all the time even when you are apart. 

"Should we head out?" you stand beside him, your shoulder brushing against him as you take the bag with your new dress in it from the counter.

Seeing over your head, Renjun thinks for a minute. His eyes go back and forth from you to behind you until he says, "Go ahead, I need to get something," leaving you rattled. 

Renjun doesn't feel bad towards Jisung most of the time when you choose to hang out with him over your friend it made him feel more special even if it meant you were constantly changing your plans with Jisung. According to you, Jisung always leaves you unconfirmed until the last minute because he has grown used to you changing your mind whenever you decided your assignments are more important than watching ep 8 Brooklyn 99 just because Jisung wants to understand what all the memes are about. 

However, this time, Renjun did feel bad for Jisung. 

"I was waiting at the train stop... for almost two hours!" the younger boy had tears rolling down his side, his face threading the line between anger and frustration. 

"It's my fault..." Renjun sheepishly says, scraping his original idea of just getting Jisung back to his apartment. "My mom bought an early ticket and came over while she was at my place. You know how my mom is," 

Rolling his eyes, "Are you saying me that you left her alone with your mom?" Jisung scoffs, throwing his hands to his mouth, letting the seat belt he pulled sling back and hit his shoulder.

Jisung hurriedly plugs in the belt, turning his torso to face Renjun who begins driving and repeats his question. Raising his brows in disbelief, "How...no, why would you let that happen?" 

Renjun too honestly regrets having you meet his mom before talking about the whole plan with you, being in a pretend relationship that works would need the story to match on both sides. Renjun has no idea what his mom would ask and how you would reply, he trusts you completely yes, but he also knows how nosy his mother is when it came to his love life because he never tells her anything (because there is always nothing to say) and you, oh god, he knew you were nervous enough meeting his entire family at the wedding but this, you didn't even have time to dress properly when you opened the front door to his mom wearing his faded Ravenclaw sweatshirt and basketball shorts that Chenle left in his apartment a while back.

"Do you plan on ever telling her the truth?" Jisung asks out of the left field as the car drives into the curb near his neighbourhood, a shiver runs down Renjun's spine at the thought.

"No way,"

"Heh, Chenle was right about the two of you being idiots—You're meant to be," 

Careful not to chop your fingers as you slice the onions for Renjun's mother, you couldn't help being on guard as she floats around you. Nothing could've prepared you for this. Renjun for one wasn't lying when he said he inherited his mother's good looks because as soon as you opened the front door and let your eyes fall on the grace of her face, you blew a fuse. 

"Darling, where is the cream sauce?" she asks, sweetness laced in her tone, scanning through the refrigerator.

"It must be in the drawer—Renjun might’ve stuffed in there last time," 

"Ahah, here it is. Does Renjun eat homecooked often?" she leaves the sauce out to cool, standing beside you on the kitchen counter and begins to work on the chicken. 

Nodding in response, you slide the sliced onions onto a plate and grab the mushrooms next, smiling fondly as you remember the first time Renjun had cooked for you and added mushrooms sliced too thin. "Renjun and I take turns cooking during the weekends. That's more homecooked meals than what most of our friends have,"

Smiling gently at you, "That's nice to know, I am always worried he isn't eating properly," goosebumps run down your back as she says that while she pulls out the bones from the chicken. You never wanted to cross her, hearing stories from Renjun about how scary she gets and the sight of her sweet smile combined with the deboning has solidified your fear. 

But as nervous as you are, you are quick to realize how sweet his mother is. Lathering him in affection as soon as her eyes set on him, Renjun flushed so deeply that you felt your heart swoon with adoration due to how docile he had turned in front of his mother, his ears turning red and whining at her to stop rubbing his head. She immediately asked you how you were and if Renjun was ever mean to you, you could've yes but you didn't. You said he's always very blunt, instead. 

Though, despite how unnerving it is that you eased around her, you remembered that you had plans with Jisung and Renjun left to get him. The nerves shot up again, you did not want to mess up for the sake of Renjun and you think his mother caught onto how tense you had become because she started talking more than she had earlier, asking you questions about Renjun and how he's been doing far from home—what you've been fearing for though had yet to appear until she finally let the stove do the cooking and the two of you settled on the stools at the kitchen. 

"You're the one coming to the wedding right?" she trails, her eyes blinking at you and studying your features, you nod apprehensively, unsure what she would ask next. "Is my son lying to me or are you two actually seeing each other?" 

Ahah, that question. 

You didn't know how to reply. Yes, your son is lying to you but no, I might also be the reason he isn't seeing someone because he spends all his time seeing me instead—you awkwardly nod though, "We are still at the talking stage... I don't know whether that qualifies," you said, your thumbs fiddling and you pray, Renjun please come home already.

As if on cue, you hear the jingle of his key chain and you spring up from your chair to go greet him, "You're back!" you smile in relief, clinging onto him and poor Jisung, getting left behind. "What are you doing here?" jutting your lips out when you see the other boy, you glance from him to Renjun for an answer. 

"I felt bad..." Renjun pushes you aside, removing his coat and you take it from him naturally, Jisung watching you act so routinely with his friend as if you live in his house. You put away his coat and hang up the keys, following him into the kitchen and Jisung follows you without a word, only opening up to greet Renjun's mother who he has met before. "This is Jisung, you know him," Renjun says anyway.

You grab two cups of water for the boys and walk to them, finding them in a conversation with his mom. "Ah! Yes, yes I remember now—Didn't you have a partner or something for that?" his mother laughs at the memory Jisung had recalled, the topic: Cross-dressing Renjun. 

"I was his partner for that," you giggle, loving the blush that overtook Renjun's face as you add, "He wore my clothes and I did his make-up, I was so sure he'd win," you said frowning. 

"Well, that senior Jungwoo looked very pretty," chugging down the water you brought, Renjun leans into your side when you sit, sending your heated blood upwards. Before you had become close to him, he always gave you incessant headaches from blushing, you had enjoyed the dizzying feeling he created and the conundrum your stomach would get up to, suddenly, you think, what if this wasn't a lie?

"Your mother asked me if you were lying," you whispered to him, your eyes plastered on Jisung and his mother reminiscing all of Renjun's embarrassing first-year stories. 

His jaw slackened, "What did you say?" he asks, eyes as wide as saucers and his breath brushing on your side, "Did she ask anything weird?"

Shaking your head, you tilt to face him. Your lips so close yet so far, you pull away and reply, "I said her we are still in the talking stage, I have no idea if that's even a thing for us—"

"—We've been in the talking stage for four years then," Renjun smiles, nudging your side and getting up to follow his mother into the kitchen when she announced she was going to check on the stove.

Letting out a ragged sigh, you groan quietly and roll to Jisung's side who looked at you disgusted, "You traitor, you liar, you asshat, I am never making plans with you again—"

"I didn't mean to ditch you." you cuddle into his side, comforting him by patting his side and he pouts, "I was there for two hours, you don't know how scared I was,"

"Yes, I know... I am sorry, I'll make up to you for sure," you try to put on your best puppy eyes, sure that Jisung would try to take revenge on you and he nods, "I hope you are ready to stick to your words this time," he says, dropping octaves to scare you.

"You have my word, sir,"

Before Jisung pointed out, you never noticed that you've been having the boyfriend experience during the recent two years in your relationship with Renjun. 

Currently 3 am, you shudder as the cold night air chips away at you while you wait for Renjun to pick you up at the nearest fast food chain for an early breakfast and head off. Jisung said, how many people do you think have a meet-up spot at the unholy hour? Not many, mainly people who are dating or flirting—people don't go see people at 3 am unless they have something going on. You had never really thought of it like that, you thought that Renjun was a night owl like you. It made sense to call up the other person you were sure would also be awake. 

"You are stupid—you should know better than everyone else, Renjun wakes up early—"  it then clicked in your head, "Because he goes to bed early, what the hell," you blush. 

The sound of your name pulls you from your mind and you grin, waving slightly as his car stops in front of you. Waddling over to the passengers and getting in, you pull your phone from your pocket and thrash it into the holder, getting comfortable to wear the seat belt. "Hey," you finally said, pushing your hair away. 

"Did you place the order?" Renjun drives, his eyes glancing at you to see you nod and you open your phone, "It says it’s ready—Whose going to get it?" your brows immediately furrow, groaning at the idea of having to get off the car and you say, "I got it last time, you should do it this time,"

"Uhuh, no way," 

"Come on, that's fair! Plus I paid because I called you out!" you whine, wriggling into the seat, you hear Renjun chuckle and your eyes catch his eyes in the rearview mirror when he suggests, "Let's just do rock, paper, scissors,"

A grin flashes on your face, Renjun always loses rock, paper, scissors with you—the only he won was at a club when he was drunk off his ass for the first time in your friendship and you let him win because he has begun to tear up at his losing streak. 

Fisting your hand, Renjun imitates you after setting the car in park at the traffic light and you chant, "Rock, paper, scissors—Shoot!" Scissors and your eyes move to Renjun's hand but his groan reaches your ears first, earning a laugh from you. He had thrown out rock and you felt a zap through your body in excitement—now this is what you call a serotonin boost. 

"Ugh, you are such a cheat," he grumbles, the traffic light turns green and you scoff, " Jealousy is not a good colour on you,"

Rolling his eyes, Renjun contradicts, "Shut up. I am pretty sure you said green was made for me,"

"I only said that because it compliments yellow and yellow looks great on you—" "Same difference," Renjun says indignantly and you pout, rolling your eyes. You won, he has to go get the take-out whether he likes it or not because as you know, Renjun is a man of his word. 

The rest of the ride was quiet, it wasn't an awkward or uncomfortable one but it was one where you could hear your heart's pacing sound and Renjun's soft humming, you especially loved going on a drive at these wee hours because while the whole world was asleep, the sound of Renjun's voice is the only thing you could hear aside from your own heart that always sounds to the beat of him. 

Looking outside of the window, Jisung's words keep replaying in your mind. You couldn't disagree that you are indeed having the boyfriend experience. 

Whenever someone hits on you, you get to say you are with someone and it's Renjun. Whenever you wear something nice, you get to say it’s from Renjun. Whenever you are apart, people ask if you fought with Renjun. Everything nice reminds you of him. Your every day revolves around matching with him, like he said, you just like it when your schedules line up—even your beloved gcal has an assigned colour just for him. 

He knows about your bank details, and your class schedules, he knows your mom and now you know his, you know how he feels about his family and he knows everything there is to know about you daily—hell, you even have a spare key to his apartment that even his mom doesn't have as you found out recently.

If this wasn't the boyfriend experience, you don't know what having a boyfriend is supposed to be; aside from the obvious making out and such, which to be frank, you're open to if he is too.

Right now, as Renjun parks outside the fast food place and grabs your phone like it’s his and goes off to get your take-away, you realize he even knows your phone password and you want to sling Jisung outside a window for making you think about this.

You want to kiss Renjun now—that's what's missing. 

That's something you could ask for if he was your boyfriend but he's not, and this is all just pretend. In the two years, you've grown closer than before and the few days leading up to your trip to his cousin's wedding as well. This is all a lie because, for one, a kiss is something that isn't meant for you, who is just a friend.

Your eyes can't help burning, tears flooding and your nose heating up at well. This isn't a thing to cry about—you already decided to give up on him, you remind yourself, feeling utterly stupid at how easy it is for you to make yourself cry.

"Oh my god! Why are you crying?" you hear the panic laced in his tone, shoving the take-out bag carefully to the back and shutting the door behind him.

Renjun leans in, pushing your hair away from your moist face now that you began sweating from all the heat that rushed up to your face and seeing his worried face, you can't help crying harder. "I hate you! you are so baaaad!" you complain, slapping your hands on his chest and he shushes you, patting your sides calmly, "Why am I bad? Is this because of the rock, paper, scissors—I know you won fair and square," he rambles, his hands delicately wiping away the tears on your face.

"You're bad because you are like this! You are so confusing!" you sob, putting your hands up between himself and you. 

If it wasn't enough that you made yourself cry, your heart almost caught up to your neck. The usual ba-thump louder than ever and racing at the speed you didn't think was possible, if your chest breaks and your heart gets out, you wouldn't be surprised.

On the other hand, Renjun barely had any idea why you were suddenly crying and he does what he knows calms you down. Unplugging the seat belt you had on, he snakes his arms around your neck and pulls you into him, of course, he hopes you can't hear his loud heart beating like crazy but right now, he shushes into your ears and says all the nice words you like to hear. "It's okay, I am right here if you need to cry—take your time," he says like a chant, a mantra that he knows works on you because you taught him these words when he really needed to cry.

"Renjun..." you call, sobbing more gently now after a few minutes has passed. Craning your neck up to face him, you ask, "Hic—Why is your h‐ick—eart bearing so fast?"

Making gibberish noises, you try to make out what he says and he shrugs, "Um because you scared me... by suddenly... crying?" he sounds unsure and you narrow your eyes, leaning over to which he pulls away in response. "Why do you—hic—sound unsure?" you ask through your hiccuping. 

"I don't know, I don't know—don't ask me this," Renjun feels the back of his burning up and the clammy hands return, he pushes you off and turns to get the food from the back. "Let's just finish this before it becomes even colder than it already is," he says trying to distract you, your glare though keeps following him as he hands you your meal.

If you ever ask him this again, Renjun thinks he might just run away from you then come out with the truth now that he has (if he is assuming correctly) become the reason you had a mental breakdown at almost 5 am with the sunrise as the backdrop on his car.

Whatever it might be, he hopes it has to do with the rock, paper, scissors and not something more serious.

While you were away at your parent's house for a week, you became sure that it was Jisung's revenge to have you think about the nature of your relationship with Renjun.

You hate him, you cut him off for three days now and suddenly, you are at his apartment unable to keep to yourself. 

"You cried in his car?" Chenle repeats, munching on spicy chips and intently listening to your retelling of the most embarrassing thing you have ever done. "YES!" you nod exasperatedly.

"I was god awful—I think I might have got his shirt snotty and also, Jisung is so evil like why would you tell something so crucial at a time like this?" dropping your head on the pillow placed on your lap, you scream into it.

"Um. What's the crucial time?" Jisung tilts his head confusedly, looking like an adorable puppy but his actions have made him look like the most annoying creature on earth in your eyes, a scoff escapes you before you could stop it which in turn earns you a gasp followed by a resentful scoff. "Leave, just leave my house if you are going to behave like this," Jisung stretches out his hands towards the door and you cry, "I am sorry! You know I love you!" 

"Anyways," Chenle pops up, "What's this crucial time? Even I want to know,"

"Guys, do you ever listen to me?" you weakly accuse them, and Chenle shrugs, "We are right now, aren't we?" to which Jisung nods. 

"I am going on a trip with Renjun today—like in a few hours... My suitcase is already in his trunk and he is just getting things in order with his landlord since he won't be here for three weeks—and you know what? he says if the room isn't aired out at least twice a week, he'll die," 

Dropping his jaws, "Ah, the crucial time," Jisung laughs sheepishly, apologising for his awful timing and you nod, "Yeah, yeah you asshat. Be sorry for me,"

"What are you doing here if you are leaving today?" Chenle as always, always asks ‘the important questions’. 

"This is why you're my favourite," you giggle at him, throwing a chip in his mouth as a reward and Jisung rolls his eyes, because if Chenle was your favourite, why are you always calling him in distress and disturbing his peace?

"I didn't wanna leave with bad blood." closing your eyes for dramatic purposes, you place your hand on Jisung's shoulders and say, "You know I love you right? You are such an important, irreplaceable person to me. Chenle, you need to keep him safe while I am away," 

Rolling his eyes, "I am glad to know you feel guilty for ghosting me for two days," Jisung grins, even if he doesn't say it, you know deep down he appreciates how much you put into words your affection for him. 

Though he wishes you just do it with Renjun and get over this whole unrequited love situation.

Laughing at the exchange, Chenle says, "I take care of him all the time, don't worry," and you sigh, to show that you now feel at peace, you place a hand on your chest and look afar. "I can finally rest in peace,"

"Why are you acting like this, just go home,"

"You're gonna miss me when I am gone," 

It was just a two-hour ride on a single train that makes about three stops along the way, the only thing you is that your time of arrival would be late at night and you felt awkward enough pretending to be asleep, cuddling into the side of your seat and bringing your knees closer to your chest—you had a reason, your knees keep brushing with his and your heart couldn't handle any sense of contact thanks to your cry fest, though Renjun fails to bring it up whenever you think he might, you know it must he bothering him just by knowing is personality.

To say the least, Renjun's hometown isn't too far.

"Can you please stop pretending?" Renjun pokes your arms, his eyes staring daggers into your head and your body clatters, you didn't think you could face Renjun.

Fluttering your eyes open, your breath hitches. "Give me some space," you choke out, putting your hand up and Renjun hums, "You've been so quiet—are you worried about that breakdown?"

"If you know, you shouldn't ask me about it," you hiss, sitting up straight and sinking into the seat to make sure he sees your annoyance. You aren't actually annoyed, you didn't know how else to be normal though.

Renjun is probably familiar with your bouts of "Leave me alone," over the time you've been friends and each other’s confidants. He has never been the cause of your tantrum but he knows you'll come around. "You can keep pretending like you hate me. But right now, I need to know if you'd like to stay at my family home or a hotel?" crossing his arms causally, Renjun glances at you and you quirk your lips downwards.

"Shouldn't you have asked this earlier?"

"I was discussing with my mom," you were starting to grow suspicious of how much of his decisions are his and how much of it was his mother—"My mom says I should bring you home,"

"Will you be comfortable with me walking around your family home?" you pursue your lips trying to imagine what he would be like with family around, no matter how awkward you get, he'd probably be even more so. Thinking a second, "I'd rather not pay for lodging, so yeah, stay over," he shrugs.

"Even if it means I have to stay in your room?" you lean into his side, locking your eyes and tying your pinky with his.

Playing along with you, Renjun grabs your hand and asks, "Didn't you hate me a second ago?" earning a subtle smile from you.

"I can't be mad at you for so long. And I swear, I didn't cry because of you, you did nothing wrong, you didn't make me cry," you softly said, your fingers rubbing circles on his hand as you bring it over your lap. "Jisung is the one to blame,"

"Huh? At 3 am, Jisung made you cry?" Renjun furrows his brows at you, watching you firmly nod, "Yes, Jisung makes me cry no matter the time of day—he just like onions,"

"I am sure he'd love to know you're comparing him to onions too now,"

Giggling weakly, you roll your eyes. "Don't you dare tell him," you glare playfully, you surprise yourself with how fast Renjun lifts your mood. With your previous embarrassment behind you, you somehow end up lifting the armrest between you and Renjun, snuggling into his shoulder, and snoozing away for the two hours to his hometown.

Much to your dismay, his mother had prepared you the guestroom.

Apparently, she had cleaned out the guestroom a few months ahead in case family comes over because of the wedding being nearby and you didn't get to force Renjun into proximity, not that you don't do that either way but something about going to bed together makes your heart flutter, you know Renjun must look pretty lying down, resting his eyes and lulling into sleep.

"Knock, knock," Renjun's voice entices your skin, goosebumps rising across your arms while you stretch.

"Ugh... Good morning," you beam at him, your hair looking like a bird’s nest and Renjun hides a smile, pulling you up from the bed. "It's just me and you today, there's no food," he informs you, guiding you by your shoulders into the bathroom to let you freshen up.

"Are we getting take-out?" you sputter, trying to stretch the coldness away from your body. "Umm... wash up and come down, let's decide later," he shrugs, leaving you to yourself.

The kitchen he grew up around isn't the same anymore, the cabinet he had always opened to find cereal boxes and ramen packs now housed many types of tea and biscuits, clearly, his mother made the house her own once there wasn't a kid around anymore. Knowing his father, he probably just goes along with whatever his mom does.

Scanning through the options, Renjun flicks the kettle on to heat the water and grabs the packet of black tea, moving swiftly to the fridge to take out the milk carton. "Nothing better than milk tea for breakfast," he says to himself, prepping for it.

You always had milk tea in the morning when you woke up, you said it clears your bowels before you had to leave your house. Something you picked up from your family routine and he finds it endearing, you still did many things that you'd attribute to being childhood habits such as greeting him at the door and always leaving folded clothes at whoever bedrooms instead of just putting them away in the cupboard.

You also always waddle into the kitchen with your pyjamas on, not ready to change and begin your day just yet. "It's already 10 in the morning, why are you still being lazy?" Renjun nags, sliding your cup of tea towards you.

Rolling your rolls, you pout your lips out. "We are staying in today,"

"So?"

"I don't need to look presentable in front of you, you don't even care what I look like," your tone had changed from normal to whinny, catching him off guard. "What do you mean? Of course, I care how you look," he threw out defensively.

"Yeah? I don't see you checking me out whenever I come over," you point, sipping the tea he made you and humming in appreciation, he makes it just the way you like it and you only had to tell him one time. "No one checks anyone out obviously, that's just... that's like telling the world you think someone's hot," nodding curiosity at his audacity, you ask.

"So you're saying I am hot and you check me out secretly?"

Renjun gapes, blinking at you indignantly. "P O V, you are delusion. Why are you putting words in my mouth,"

"I think I remember what you just quite clearly," you spit out, peering over at him with a look of victory. "You can admit that you think I am hot,"

"As if—I know you think I am hot, I can see you checking me out all the time. I also see you trying to match with me through the window. You think I don't see you?" Renjun coughs, leaning against the kitchen island and you kick his leg, washing your now empty tea cup and you hear a grumble from him.

"At least I am not denying it,"

Narrowing his eyes, the fresh sunlight dazzling through the kitchen windows shines on your face. Extenuating your features and making your face look gentler than it probably was, Renjun cages you to the sink and scoffs, "Oookay," he drags, his eyes dropping to your lips, the sound of his heart clouding his reasoning and he asks, "If I agree that you're hot, can I kiss you?"

As if time could stop, your eyes widened, even the dust in the air becoming visible suddenly and Renjun's breath on your nose makes your chest tighten, heat spreading through your face and head, "What...?" you echo your mind, Renjun doesn't like you.

"If you don't say no, I'll take it as a yes," Renjun says, his head leaning towards your lips and your fingers betray you, curling around his collar, you grab him first and peck his lips. It felt like this dream would shatter if you kissed him any harder, a peck was enough, that alone was a dream come through and it felt so real, your body shudders under his grip. 

But this is real, you say to yourself. Renjun needs an answer too, "Yes, yes, you can kiss me," you quickly said, eyes burning up due to the flame on your face, you feel the dizzying feeling back with the throbbing pain that always accompanies it. "Hurry and kiss me," Renjun chuckles, nodding sweetly at your words.

His hands cup your cheeks, brushing his lips against yours and your lips are as soft as he thought they'd be, you were always fussy about moisturising them. Not as patient as him, you lean forward and kiss him, his lips smiling into the kiss and his hands move back to cradle your neck, to hold you in a more comfortable position. Your lips taste like your favourite strawberry toothpaste and the scent of your cheap lavender soap bar intoxicated his movement, his fingers running through your face, feeling out your features and your lips keeps chasing his, the sound of your quiet sighs enticing him but he knows better.

"Stop," he says, his head digging into your neck. His lips brush against your collarbone, and he feels the shiver that runs down your back because he felt that too, the headache this heat gives him never felt this satisfying. "If you kiss me again, I'll take you straight to my room," he laughs, hearing your sharp gasp.

"That's not very filial son of you, you shouldn't do naughty stuff in your parent's house," you tease, your arms snaking around his torso, gripping him for dear life because if this was a dream, it feels as real as it could get and Renjun sighs, his breath tickling your neck.

"What are we now?" he asks, "Actually, did you even know I like you?"

"Huh, I would've never guessed." you bite back, pushing him off you and just now, you felt the back of your shirt moist from leaning on the sink and you release a groan, "Ugh! My shirt is wet,"

"My master plan." Renjun beams, sitting down on the kitchen stool. "Now you have to get changed into non-pyjamas."

"You asshat," you slap his head, running upstairs to change and your hand flies up to your lips, you cried last week about kissing him.

Your body felt like a fever, his body was just melting into yours and now, you've just been kissed and your brain might’ve melted, you think. You change out of your pyjamas, wearing what are "decent clothes" according to Renjun and hurry down, his side profile making your heart shake. Jisung was right, you couldn't think of anything you wanted to do with Renjun for a date that you haven't already done. Even meeting his family is a thing that should've come after he was your boyfriend—You've had all of the typical boyfriend experiences and yet, Renjun...

Biting your lisp, you just had to ask, "Are you, my boyfriend, now?"

"Huh?" he blinks, looking away from his phone and you ask again, "Are we a thing?"

Shrugging, this is the first time you've seen a blush on his face that you've caused. His ears glow, and it spreads to his cheeks. Lips quivering, you could tell he was trying to contain a smile. "If you'll have me, yeah," he nods, his eyes looking anywhere but at you.

"Heh," you giggle, skipping down the stairs to his side and you fling yourself at him, "I guess how you actually have a date for the wedding tomorrow,"

Crossing your arms and propping yourself on the table you've been assigned to, you understand now, why his mother was adamant about having a date.

Renjun has always been popular, even though he only attempts blind dates out of peer pressure and rejects everyone left and right, Renjun's popularity hadn't ever dwindled not even when he went missing doing his mid-term senior assignments. You should've known it was the same case back home, your eyes follow him as he greets people from his past with his mother and you can tell by the subtle blush on his face, the apologetic look as he points at you that they were asking about his relationship status again.

You even saw someone give him a gift when they should be gifting the people getting married instead.

"He's too popular, right?" Jisung huffs, stuffing his cheeks with the chocolate nuggets on your table. "I always knew," you shrug.

"Why didn't you tell me you were invited as well?" you glare at him, when you saw him as you entered with Renjun a while back, you wanted to cry in relief that there was someone you knew other than Renjun and his parents.

Forcing down the nuggets in his cheeks, he chokes out, "I didn't know if I was gonna make it—Renjun's cousin is kind of obsessed with me." He points at the groom and says, "I met him with Renjun a few years back and he clicked with me immediately, I don't even know why,"

"Damn, glad he didn't steal you from me," you nod, impressed by the reach of Jisung's charm.

"What happened with you and him though?" he asks, his eyes following Renjun now just as yours were and you grin, "We are now officially—I don't even know,"

"He acts just the same, I mean I guess we started dating yesterday but god, he is so awful, I didn't know how awful he was before," you complain, remembering how he woke you up last this morning when you would've taken more time than him to ready but he was sweet, he said he wanted to let you sleep in, though it still pissed you off that you had to rush getting ready.

"You were just enchanted by him before, now you'll see his true colours in their true form," Jisung concludes, sleeking back his hair as he stands. "I am gonna congratulate them and leave, see back you home," he pats your shoulder, Renjun appearing in front of you.

"Jisung's leaving?"

"Yeah," you stare up at his gorgeous face, his lips tinted with your lipstick but you didn't tell him that, you wanted everyone to know he was yours. The deep raspberry red that faintly stuck to him after you kissed him made your chest tremble, and you intertwin your hand with his. "You polish up nicely," you tell him again.

"You look nice too," he replies, a blush forming on his face and you grin, "You know, your mom was right,"

"There are way too many preying hands here, how did you manage to have only one girlfriend before me?"

Renjun thinks, humming at your question. "I was a bigger nerd back then,"

"But your cute even when you're nerding out," you blurt out, whether he was singing his favourite songs word to word or he was making fan art for a game he was obsessed with, he always looked cute when his focused expression; furrowing brows and a deep frown.

"You are the only one who thinks that,"

"You just don't know how many people think the same, you just don't know better," you shrug. You had already seen the Renjun fanclub at university to think otherwise. The only other time you cried about Renjun was the time they tried to make you stay away from him.

"I am just realising you'd be an awful boyfriend," you chuckle, you are ready to face whatever he might be behind the Renjun you know. "I am glad I didn't go on that backpacking trip,"

"Be grateful, I saved you so much money and you got a boyfriend."

"It's unfair though," you mumble, Renjun raising his brows at your statement. "What's unfair?"

"You've done all the boyfriend things with me, what else is left for you to do with me?" you ask, heat rising in your cheek because you can only think of one thing and Renjun giggles, it is an evil giggle.

"We both know what's left,"

"Shut up, I am just saying it's unfair that we've been on hundreds of dates already, we take pictures where ever we go, I met your parents, I have your apartment key, we cook for each other, we have matching stuff—"

"Wow, now that you're listing it, we've actually done a lot together,"

"Exactly! You stole my boyfriend experience—I've never even had one before you,"

"W for Renjun, L for you,"

©KDYISM, 2022 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

[rowniebow]

new years eve | peter parker x male!reader

summary: three years of you and peter on the fateful day that people swear they're going to change and never do.

pairings: peter parker x male!reader

cw: 18+ MINORS DNI! smut: teasing (edging? eh), light choking, butt stuff, oral, fingers, praise kink-ish. a lil bit o' alcohol abuse, You Belong With Me trope, any peter, late college era, angst! lil bit o fluff

word count: 4.9k+

song: new years eve, by mal blum

an: here's my new year's treat! hope this year treats everyone well. 22' was rough but i hope we can all remember that life really is ever-changing

masterlist

⭒

NYE 2013

"just go talk to her, pete!" you rolled your eyes at your friend.

you truly didn't want to be consoling peter about his long time crush at this very moment. or any moment, for that matter.

"you really think i should?" his eyebrows curled up as he stared at the girl of his dreams longingly from across the room.

"if it will get you away from me, then yes." you poured your drink, frowning down at the pure alcohol flooding your cup.

he hardly spared you a glance, let alone a word, while he made his way over to her, interrupting her chat with her friends to talk about who knows what.

you didn't want to know.

your throat burned while whatever you put in your cup made it's way down but you thought it was better than your eyes burning with tears. you were too ready to forget everything and drown yourself in a dizzy night of nothingness. ready to forget your shitty attitude and the shitty guacamole you were making your way through.

peter came back too soon for your jealous liking. he went on and on about how magical his three minute conversation with her was. how he just had to say how cool the party she was throwing was.

and then, of course, how cool she was.

"that's great, peter," you grumbled after downing another full red solo cup of something. he looked you up and down, and followed your lead in drinking a lot of whatever the clear bottle said it was. you couldn't read it, things were beginning to spin. you assumed he couldn't read much of it either by the way he joined you rather than questioning you about why you were drinking so much when you are alcohol's biggest hater.

or maybe. you wondered, he was just so enamored by the girl across the room that he couldn't spare you any thought.

you didn't really care at that point.

"what about you?"

"what?" you hollered over the booming music.

"are you going to try to get with anyone?"

"i don't want to start my new year with a hook up."

"what about that guy you said you've been thinking about?

"he-he's not here. why would he be here?"

"oh, i don't know. i just assumed."

"yeah, no, he's not here."

"okay, my bad, man."

peter took attention to your knitted eyebrows, lack of eye contact, and flustered features yet excused himself to go converse with someone else.

you gritted your teeth at the sight of his retreating back, taking another beer, and finding yourself somewhere to calm down.

⭒⭒

you watched peter disappear down the hall, fingers drunkenly intertwined with the woman he hadn't stopped talking about for months.

the sickening smiles they shared sent chills down your spine.

you grimaced, poured yourself another drink.

peter was stupid.

he's stupid in general, but especially for chasing after a girl who saw him as so much less than.

he deserved better, he didn't deserve the emotional disrespect he was bound to receive.

he deserves someone he can belt his favorite songs with (which happen to be your favorite songs, too).

he deserves someone who will watch movies with him and joke about how bad all the acting is (which you two happened to do every friday night).

he deserves someone who will understand him and all of his little actions and oddities (which, you prided yourself in your knowledge of peter quirks).

but peter was stupid.

and you were even more stupid for chasing after a stupid man.

you made your decision for how the rest of your night would go. you wanted to completely disregard the stupid man.

⭒⭒⭒

quick, loud knocks rapped against the door of your apartment. the naked man beside you in your bed questioned who could possibly be at your door at this hour. your dizzy mind didn't have the capacity to answer.

you hurried to gather easy clothes to slip on from off of your messy floor, glancing at the clock and seeing it read '3:04 am'. happy twenty-fourteen, you supposed. the man in your bed rolled his eyes as you made your way down the hall.

the door opened to reveal your friend, peter parker. teeth chattering, nose running, eyes swirling in a pool of tears.

the frown that you held lifted immediately, your eyebrows pulled together in worry, instead. "peter? what happened?"

your words dragged the tears out of him, "can i stay here tonight?"

his voice was low. it didn't break or crack. his gaze refused to meet yours, however, and his arms crossed over his chest in an attempt to hide his heart that was stabbed over his sleeve.

"of course," you pulled the door opened wider for him to come in. he immediately went to lay on your couch, face first.

you muttered a dismissal for yourself and made your way back to your room. back to the man clicking through his phone, uninterested. "you-you gotta go,"

he looked back up at you. his features resembled an angsty teenager's when their parents ask them to do chores. "are you serious?"

"yeah," your unamused tone pulled a glare to his face.

"whatever," he spat.

you watched him dress himself with the clothes he threw on to your floor. you couldn't understand what drunken thoughts led you to bring home a disgusting pig of a man like him.

you walked him out anyway, wishing him a safe trip home. he only glared as he left, earning an eye roll and an urgency to lock the door behind him.

peter watched the whole time, thinking back to your words from earlier. how you didn't want to start new years with a hook up. he silently took the blame, understanding fully well that it was because he left you alone in a sea of unfamiliar people.

the thought pulled more tears out of his eyes.

he dragged a throw blanket over his body as you shuffled around in the kitchen. glasses clattered against one another and onto the counter. pots rumbling with the milk inside of them.

he examined your movements carefully. your eyes seemed so far away. you held yourself as if you were cold, but didn't think of doing anything about your shorts and t-shirt to fix the problem. you stared at the boiling milk as if it were the only thing getting your through it.

and when you handed peter his share of steaming hot chocolate, he felt the same.

"do you want to talk about it?" you finally broke the several minutes of silence.

peter shrugged, shaking his head.

"okay," you took an extended sip of your drink. peter followed the swirl of the whip cream to your lips. "do you want to watch a movie?"

peter nodded, willing soberness to come snap him out of his pathetic behaviors.

it wasn't as if you two hadn't seen each other cry before. in all your years of friendship, there's been plenty of moments where you shared and comforted each other through them.

but, with the alcohol buzzing in his head and his constant yearning to be held - loved, touched - tears felt embarrassingly pathetic.

he took the pathetic and laid his head on your thighs with the small screen playing some random film you two hadn't heard of before.

⭒⭒⭒⭒

NYE 2014

"please?"

"no, peter,"

"come on!"

"you're too drunk," you grabbed a chip full of guacamole and shoved it into his loopy smile.

"i'm not, i haven't had hardly anything."

"and i'm starting to think i haven't had enough."

"i want to kiss someone on new years!"

"don't we all?"

"exactly! who else better to kiss than my best friend."

"i-i don't know,"

"it's only weird if you make it weird, babe,"

"see, now you're calling me 'babe', that's making it weird,"

"i'm trying to get you in the mood,"

you glared up at peter. his stupid eyes smiled with his lips. the pleading look of a desperate man with a dash of innocent smiling was chopped finely and boiled. the aroma of his sick soup swirled into your nose, pulling you in.

it was kind of nice having that much power over him, you had to admit. you could mix him into anything you wanted, realistically, but you had yet to realize your talent as a chef.

"i had one beer like an hour ago. that's nothin'," he continued his cheesing.

you rolled your eyes, his ingredients infectious. "whatever happens, happens, parker. if i find someone much better than you in the next twenty minutes then you're on your own."

his smile only grew, knowing you wouldn't be social enough to find anyone in the next twenty minutes.

⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒

"so?" peter's dragged vowels rang quietly behind you.

a minute left until the ball would drop.

"how was your impossible search for anyone better than me to kiss on new years?"

your dramatic sigh brought an irritating i-told-you-so grin to his face, "sadly, it came to no avail."

"of course, babe, it's me we're talking about."

peter tugged on your hand, pinky fingers intertwined as if they were the only thing keeping you next to him. he pulled you out onto the balcony of the small apartment that still managed to fit so many people.

the cold air hitting your cheeks as the crowd inside began surrounding themselves around the television displaying the annual ball dropping.

"did you have anything else to drink?" your quiet voice disappeared into steam. peter only barely grasped it.

"absolutely nothing. have you?" he leaned against the railing. the ever busy new york streets below haunted your conversation.

"oh yeah, tons! had to prepare, you know? really don't want to remember this one," you laughed, looking anxiously back inside through the large glass windows.

their counting began from ten progressing downwards all too quickly. peter's hand found it's way to your cheek, successfully redirecting you to look at him.

"we don't have to do this, if you really don't want to." his kind smile seemed to yank on your neck and pull you towards him.

your lips collided as the crowd inside cheered and fireworks exploded.

it was a kiss reserved for small children on the playground at first.

eyes squeezed so tight they hurt. hands lost, finding an uncomfortable home at your side. you pushed your lips so far out at the start, it was as if you were keeping him at arms length of intimacy.

but peter. his eyes widened with shock, his hand still resting on your cheek. it took him a moment before he understood the your awkward actions. he smiled into your lips, almost giggling at your nervousness, wrapping his arms around your neck.

his arms around your neck brought you a comfort you hadn't felt before in a kiss. warmth came from every bit of him that touched you.

he was a magnet, but all of a sudden he was even more so. his warmth fought off the biting cold of the new year's air. it captivated you and grew to be a warmth with it.

his lips molded into yours. your mouths opening and closing to become one.

your tongues danced to the honking of a car below.

your hands found a place at his waist and your fingertips longed to intrude on the skin beneath his sweater.

when you finally pulled back, peter found you gasping and your eyes pleading for more.

he smiled.

who had the power now?

he drew you in but missed your lips, much to your displeasure.

"do you wanna get out of here?" he whispered, longingly.

you hummed a confirmation, gripping his waist tightly, still.

⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒

it was sick, truly.

the way you wouldn't let go of peter's waist. you had him practically crawling out of his pants to you all the way back to his apartment.

what was even sicker, was how peter would only talk to you in fleeting whispers. speaking all too close to his ear. his lips brushing against the tip of it far too many times for sanity.

"i cant wait to get you home," he'd whispered, "i get you all to myself, how lucky am i to have you on new year's?"

it was sick.

so as soon as the door to his apartment shut, you made sure the manipulative man understood who he was working with.

your hands found his wrists and his back met the wall. your lips found his, but only for the most painfully briefest of moments.

instead, your mouth found interest in his available neck. you buttered the array of skin in fleeting moments of bliss: your lips just barely brushing his seemingly amplified nerves.

his quiet breaths of wanting were all too loud in the silent apartment, and those breaths were the only thing that brought you in to give him what he wanted.

you let go of his wrists and made yourself comfortable over his pulse, nipping and sucking on the bare skin. your hands found his hair, one at the base of his neck and the other surfing their way through his locks. his hands dragged down your chest and his fingers looped themselves in your belt hoop.

his undeniable strength brough your hips to his. the button on your pants clattered against hit, but the friction of your movements against each other brought nothing but bliss.

peter's deathly voice cut through the sonorous breathing between you two. you hummed in response when his fingers made their way to your hair, tugging your head from his throat.

your power vanished while he dragged you to his room, smothering you with kisses along the way. the bed pressed against the back of his knees, bringing him falling to it's surface.

you bit your lip looking down at your best friend. he looked up at you, only thinking about how hot you looked undressing him with your eyes like you did (and do quite often, if he was honest with himself).

your reckless decision for your deep, long-time wants managed to win over your debating thoughts. you fell to your knees, and yanked at the button and zipper hiding what you are fully aware will change your relationship with peter, for better or for worse.

he smiled, pulling his sweater over his head. your jeans pulled against the new growth that lied within them. peter's jeans, and underwear, too, fell to release his own growth.

peter watched your mouth cover the tip of him. your tongue flicked over the bit of him you had, his precum covering your tongue.

he moaned into the darkness of the room, the only light filtering in from behind you from the door. you were glowing because of it. you often were glowing, your radiance always lighting peter's life up, but this glow was full of need and want. pure and primal. something so human that it boarded the line of animal.

your tongue lightly traced the crease of his tip. then crept down the shaft. your teasing pushed excitement down peter's thighs and up into his stomach. the excitement balled itself up and came back to him in a throbbing want for you.

"fuck," he groaned, grabbing a fistful of your hair and guiding your head, firmly but ever so gently, over him and all the way down.

the pressure of him at the back of your throat brought tears to your eyes and a sickness to your stomach, but you fought it with a long, low moan.

your noises mingled with peter's as you began to bob your head with his guidance. a hand made it's way up to peter's chest while the other stayed gripping his inner thigh, nearly bruising the sensitive skin.

your hand on his chest rolled his nipple in between your fingers, pinching and pulling at the hard pink nerves.

his hips bucked, forcing him deeper into your throat with every movement. every time you felt him bounce off the walls of your throat he aroused provocative noises from within you.

"i'm-i'm gonna-,"

you stopped.

he glared at you as you hurried off of your knees and began fiddling with your belt buckle over him. the glare disappeared, replaced by the look a man only gives when a world of pleasure is presented right before him.

he practically came at the sight of you: only revealing your most vulnerable part to him. still completely covered with shoes and pants and your nicest winter sweater despite your now exposed length.

after muttering about where the lube could be, he let you shove him back on to the bed and watched you position yourself through his hooded eyes.

you tugged his ankles to rest on your shoulders, covered your hands in the lubricant. you brought one hand to his ass, soaking his entrance with the puddle of goop in your hand. your finger teased, lightly tracing the outside of his openness.

you had him shriveling into himself even with the faintest touch. a frustrated plead escaped his lips, and you decided to reward him in the smallest way you could.

you pushed the tip of your finger in, hardly even spreading him.

then quickly pulled out.

then in again, just barely.

and back out.

you went through this process several times, meanwhile using your free hand to prepare yourself, fiddling with your tip and assuring it to be supple enough for him.

your thumb passed over your tip for what seemed like the last time that you could bare before you went crazy with him whining beneath you as he did.

you removed your hand from him, instead rubbing your tip along his entrance.

you entered unbearably slow, both for you and for him. but he deserved it. all this time of you being forced to watch him pine after girl after girl. he could wait for you like you did for him.

his fingers gripped at the sheets, his extended moan gripped at your brain.

with you finally in him completely, you took a second to lean over, your hand lightly gripping his neck. his eyes closed from the comfort of your hand. your other free hand wrapped itself around the base of his penis, readying your intentions.

you moved your hips back out, still slow as ever. your hand on his length began stroking him at a similar pace. your just barely pulled yourself all the way out, your index and middle finger rubbing the very tip of him in a circular motion.

his staggered moans, moans of pain, at that point, from the lack of release he was getting, filled your ears, begging you to hurry.

"please, fuck me. i need you, please,"

and you complied.

you were so slow, so gentle at first. you were building him up again. but as time went on you couldn't help but give in to your own needs.

your needs of a quicker pace. your needs of a little bit of pain. your needs of watching him come undone before you.

you kept going, sloppy now.

back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.

your eyes squeezed with your hand on his throat, doing your best to hold yourself back until he was ready, too.

his constant confirmations had you near spilling over the edge.

"yes, god, you're so good. more, please, thank fuck,"

the lewdness of your name on his breath had your nails on his throat in an attempt to keep you in reality.

peter finally twitched in your hand, the white liquid shooting out on to his chest and stomach. you watched it drip and pool in his belly button. you watched it cover one of his perky pinky nipples.

and you couldn't hold back any longer.

you leaned over, hand off of his throat and dick and on to the bed next to him instead, and ran your tongue along where his juices spilled.

you dipped into his belly button, scooping it out. your ran your tongue up his chest, lapping over his nipples until your couldn't feel his burning skin under you any longer.

you slurped him up and spilt into him entirely. peter arched his back at the feeling of your warmth pooling inside of him, moans continuing, his high lasting longer than usual as he rode into yours as well.

you, exhausted, finally achingly pulled out of peter and flopped next to him in the bed.

the sound of both of you breathing heavily was the only thing that filled the air.

⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒

waking up the next morning, you were all too aware of the man on top of you naked.

the man who is your best friend.

the man who begged you to be his new years kiss.

the man who, both, got you turned on, and got turned on in said kiss.

the man who whispered threats of pleasure all throughout the train ride home.

the man who didn't follow up on his threats.

the man who you absolutely railed the night before.

the man who crumbled and ended up begging for you once again.

the man who was your best friend.

just the thought of what you two shared the night before brought blood rushing back into your lower half. you wanted to roll your eyes at yourself. maybe even sneak into his bathroom and get it out, then get yourself out.

but instead, your best friend moved in your arms, thigh rubbing against your quickly growing self.

he groaned at the light, his arms finding their way up your torso.

his eyes slowly opened and he pulled his neck to look up at you. he smiled, moving his thigh at just the right angle to rub your lower half. a frustrated breath left your lips, the lips he so very badly wanted to eat up again.

"good morning," his raspy voice sent electricity through you. "did you miss me?" he laughed sleepily, his hair a mess. his hand on your torso moved back down and wrapped itself around your length. "seems like it."

you only managed to glare down at him, gnawing on your lip.

"you didn't let me fulfill my promises last night," he moved his hand up and down, lingering his thumb over your tip each time. "may i?"

you nodded.

your eyes landed on the clock as he stuffed his cheeks with you and your cum ran down his throat.

10:53 am, new years day. happy twenty-fifteen.

⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒

NYE 2015

rage filled you as you watched peter retreat down a hallway with a girl. he had the nerve to smile and laugh with her all night, now the audacity to follow her away and leave you stranded.

after this whole year? all this time?

after a year of loosing your best friend. loosing your best friend to the mindless fucks you gifted each other.

after a year of you becoming more familiar with peter's body than his brain.

after a year of earth shattering orgasms together, only to be left alone in bed afterwards.

a year of loneliness.

a year of feeling like an emotional burden to him.

a year of lost traditions.

a year of weekly movie nights being converted into weekly fuck nights.

you were okay with it, you thought. you have peter almost all to yourself.

sexually, at least.

so why are you watching him head to a back room ten seconds to midnight on new year's eve?

⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒

your ears rang all the way home and into your apartment. they rang as water poured into the kettle.

the glowing neon clock on the oven illuminated your face. 2:17 am. nothing good happens after two a.m.

and the knocking on your door seemed to prove that.

you were hesitant at first. who would be at your door this late other than him? you don't want to talk to him, the thought of him at all brought redness to your ears.

but the glowing time stared back at you, mocked you. sat on your shoulder making up all these excuses for why you should let him in.

what if he's upset?

what if he's alone?

what if he's still drunk?

what if he's hurt?

you knocked your fist on the wooden counter, three times for good luck, and trudged to the door.

it opened to reveal peter (surprise, surprise!). he looked up at you, obviously tired and still intoxicated with something.

without a thought in the world he walked in, sparing you a kiss on the cheek, "hi, baby,"

"are you okay?" your voice, soft and caring, needed to get the question out of the way to allow yourself to feel your feelings.

"yeah, of course," he flopped down on the couch, arms spreading out over the space.

"why are you here then?" you finally closed the door, not wanting your poor neighbors to hear you in a state like this.

"to see you. it's new years,"

you scoffed. the unfamiliar noise brought his attention to you. he finally opened his eyes. he watched you shake your head, staring at the ground.

"what?"

"who was that girl?"

he groaned a little, struggling to remember, "i think her name was amy? are you mad about that-,"

"no, why would i be? yes, i'm mad about that! what the fuck, peter?"

"baby, it didn't mean anything," he raised himself off of the couch as if he we old and worn and carried the weight of a seventy year old. "she just wanted to be with someone on new years, that was all."

you rolled your eyes, chewing on your already raw lip.

"why are you upset, it's not like we're exclusive or anything? we're just friends."

"we're not friends, peter!" your hands flew in the air. you were practically in disbelief. "friends don't do the things we did a year ago. and-and we just- kept doing it. as if we never were friends."

"that's not true, you know that's not true. you were my best friend-you are my best friend."

"i'm not! not anymore,"

"what do you mean,"

"when was the last time we treated each other like friends, pete? i can't remember the last conversation we had that wasn't just when we'd meet up next."

"that's not true, we were talking about that pizza place you thought looked good the other day,"

you shook your head, rolling your eyes in disbelief. you kept still next to the door, peter coming over to plead with you. "peter," you took a deep breath readying yourself for the intense words you wanted to spit. "i do not like you anymore,"

"you... you liked me?"

"jesus christ, parker," you threw your hands up again, giving up on it all.

"wait, no. i-i like you, too-,"

"no, i don't anymore!"

"what-? baby, come on,"

"don't call me baby, peter. i'm tired of the fucking games."

"i'm not playing any games-,"

"you are! and i'm so tired, pete. please, just-just leave."

"no, no, no, you're my best friend, i'm not leaving,"

"i'm not your best friend anymore! please, just leave." you tugged on his sleeve weakly, pulling him to the front door.

"i-i just-,"

"i don't want to hear it. get the hell out of here." you opened the door

"no, please, let's talk about it. i'm sorry," you tried half-heartedly to shove him out into the hall, him only looking back at you with pleading eyes unmoving. "y/n, please, baby. talk to me, i don't wanna lose you because i was being stupid."

the kettle rang out cutting through the tension of the apartment.

you huffed, giving up on pushing him out of the door. tears punched at your squeezed eyelids. you kept your head towards the ground.

"i-i'm going to shut the door, okay?" he whispered.

you nodded, holding your breath to not let the sob escape your lips. you rushed to handle the ringing of the kettle, instead. your hands wouldn't let go of the rushing blood in your fingers.

"why-why didn't you tell me you liked me?"

you took a shakey breath, "i felt like it was pretty obvious."

"no, i-i didn't," he lingered behind you in the kitchen, leaning against the counter. "i don't really know what i thought. i didn't think you ever wanted to be exclusive, though."

the tears finally began peaking out of the corners of your eyes, your mind replaying the sight of him walking away giggling with a girl.

"i'm sorry, you're right. i've-i've missed you. i've missed my best friend."

"peter," you choked out, voice cracking over every sound of his name.

"i think it's my fault. i take full blame,"

"peter,"

"i mean, i really could have done more this last year. i think i got caught up in the fact that i could be with you at all in anything more than a platonic way-,"

"peter."

he ceased his rambling. you could feel your stern tone making him shrink behind you.

"i'm begging you. please, just leave me alone. at least for tonight. i can't do this, not right now." you kept your hands over the counter, them being the only thing holding you up.

"o-okay, i'm sorry. i'll just-, yeah."

you listened closely. his retreating foot steps.

they stuttered, tempted to bring him back to you. but he knew better.

the door creaked open and closed.

you could finally open your eyes. the blurry world revealed itself to you.

2:34 a.m. nothing good happens after two a.m.

but happy fucking twenty-sixteen.

⭒

⭒ taglist ⭒

@fadedver @drainfury @1ischai @djmalik52

[storyofmychoices]

Happy Birthday, @lilyoffandoms!!!

You are the most lovely, talented, generous, and all around amazing person. I am beyond lucky to have you in my life, as Daenarya is to have Maiele in hers. I hope you enjoy this portrait of our silly besties by the wonderful ArtbyAinna (IG) as well as the little drabble that goes with it. Have the most amazing day! Love you always!

A Royal Portrait

Pairings: Mal Volari x Daenarya (F!MC) ; Tyril Starfury x Maiele (MC) Book: Blades of Light and Shadow Word Count: ~900 Rating: General, no warnings

Synopsis: Daenarya and Maiele pose for a royal portrait.

Mal Volari and Tyril Starfury found themselves in the elegant gardens of the White Tower palace. Rich tapestries and gilded frames adorned the walls of the halls that led them there. The garden itself teemed with vibrantly colored flora and was bathed in warm, beautiful sunlight. Before them stood Daenarya and Maiele, their partners, radiant in their regal attire, posing for a portrait. The air was filled with a sense of nobility, and the room was abuzz with whispers of admiration for the pair's noted accomplishments in saving the realm of light. 

A mischievous smile spread on Mal's face as he sprawled across a lavish red velvet chair, one leg hanging over the armrest. He watched Daenarya with unabashed adoration as she hugged close to Maiele, the pair wearing matching grins. His gaze drifted to Tyril, who stood aloof, his stoic demeanor a stark contrast to Mal's own. 

As the artist worked diligently, Daenarya and Maiele shared secrets in hushed tones too quiet for anyone to overhear, their laughter echoing through the space. An occasional reminder by the artist to keep still kept them in check.

Mal's eyes sparkled as he tried to decipher their whispers. He was certain he could read lips. He thought he had gotten it down to a science, yet Daeanarya had assured him time and time again he wasn't even close. Whether that was true or she just wanted to keep him guessing, he could never be positively sure. Either way, it wouldn't stop him from trying.

Tyril continued observing in silence, his gaze never leaving Maiele. His face was an unreadable mask, but a faint hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips, almost imperceptible to the untrained eye, yet those who knew him were familiar with the sentiment. It hadn't left since the moment Maiele entered his life.

Mal's prolonged audible exhale broke the serene atmosphere. When his sigh didn't get the reaction he intended, he repeated the gesture louder and with a more dramatic flair, pulling the eyes of many in the room, but he was only after one.

"Are you quite alright?" Tyril scowled at his uncivilized behavior.

"Since you asked—" He slipped further into the plush cushioning. "Why do Daenarya and Maiele get a royal painting, and we don't?" he grumbled, his tone laced with playful envy. "We were there too."

"You were given the choice to have a portrait commissioned," Tyril responded, his voice measured and precise, not giving into Mal's tantrum. "However, you chose that ridiculous diamond instead." 

Mal held out the gem in question, allowing it to catch the sunlight, scattering it into a dazzling array. "This diamond deserved to be freed, not hidden away in some rich snob's collection. I did it a favor." Mal's smile grew wider as he admired the gem's brilliance. "Leaving it would have been a disservice to such a precious treasure." He hugged and petted the stone as if it were a cherished pet.

Tyril's attempt to hide his frustration failed, a subtle crease forming between his brows that betrayed him. "I hope you plan to give that to Daenarya." His tone was firm as their gazes met in shared understanding. "She's far too good for a rogue like you."

Mal's shoulders slumped in feigned defeat. "Yeah, I know," he admitted, his eyes shining as he glanced toward her. "Perhaps I could have the diamond split in half. This way she and I can have matching stones. I get a piece, and so does she. That's romantic, right?"

Tyril's patience waned with each passing moment. "I hope for your sake that was in jest."

"So, that would be a no on the romance angle?"

A quiet exhale slipped from the elf's lips, betraying his diplomatic presence. His focus returned to the subjects of the royal portrait. His muscles relaxed as his gaze once more settled on Maiele, who continued to whisper and giggle along with Daenarya. 

"Wait—" Mal interrupted the elf's thoughts again. "Why aren't you getting a portrait?" A mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes; his lips spread into a sly grin. "Did you take a gem too?"

Tyril's stoic countenance faltered as it only could in the rogue's presence. His brows knit together, and he regarded Mal incredulously before composing himself. "Certainly not. I have little need for glittering trinkets or having my portrait hung in a palace to collect dust." Despite being of a noble house himself, Tyril found the concept of ostentatious displays of wealth and vanity tiresome. 

"So your portrait isn't hanging triumphantly in House Starfury at this very moment?" Mal wagged his brow at Tyril.

"If such a portrait were to hang, it would be at the request of Maiele supported by Adrina," Tyril explained, the slightest purple hue flushed on his cheeks. "I protested profusely."

"He is something, isn't he," Mal mused, his attention shifting back to the subjects of the current portrait. "They both are."

"Indeed." With one word, Tyril said so much more. The admiration in his tone and the pride filling his eyes spoke volumes. 

"Perhaps they're both too good for us," Mal quipped.

"Just this once, you may be correct." Tyril couldn't stop the smile spreading on his lips as Maiele's gaze met his. 

The pair settled into silence, watching as Daenarya and Maiele continued to share secrets and laughter, their close bond on display even from a distance. The artist's strokes captured their essence, freezing a moment of their shared happiness and devoted friendship for all eternity.

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed this!

More about Mal x Daenarya: [Masterlist] [Mal’s Orphanage]

More about Tyril x Maiele [Masterlist]

[descendantofthesparrow]

Touch starved - Harry Hook x reader - Oneshot

blame @hanas-headcanons​ for this yall 

=

Harry-being from the isle, didn’t grow up with normal affection, the most you got physically was fist bumps, baps on the head, punching each other as hard as you could (for funsies~) and the very rare; pats on the back.

Yeah…isle kids didn’t get much affection growing up, leading many many to be touch starved. Such as the C4; Mal would smack at and basically hiss at anyone that tried to touch her that wasn’t Ben or her friends, only to actually melt into Ben’s arms when he hugged her gently. Evie thrived on physical affection, taking every chance she got to huddle up to someone she was close to. Jay loved being just-squished, happy to be the pillow or mattress. Carlos was the most-skittish of the three- he preferred gentle touches and soft hugs, preferring to be the one laying on Jay instead of being under Evie or Mal.

So Harry ended up being…adverse to touch, he didn’t like it, plain and simple. Only people close to him had permission to touch him, Uma and his sisters being the few with that permission. Then he met you, a bright, affectionate, cheery sunspot that suddenly crashed into his life when he arrived in Auradon.

You were just a quiet thing, sitting in the back of the class with your nose buried in your sketchbook. whenever the teacher called on you; you knew the answer, not even looking up from your art. He didn’t know what had drawn him to you, maybe it was that comforting personality you had, maybe it was your soft smile, or maybe it was that you had never judged him for all his mental bullshit.

He just one day realized oh, there you are; as you were laughing about your stupid joke about pirates. That was the day he admitted to himself tha the had fallen in love. He had confessed soon after, and realized you might be a bit more work than he thought, not in a bad way but-you were and are an EXTREMELY affectionate person, he could tell you wanted to hug him when he told you his feelings, but you settled for taking his hands and shaking them about. He felt a little bad, one of the huggiest girls at Auradon prep and she ended up with the one dude who hated hugs.

He remembered telling you so before you really even became friends ‘I hate hugs. Never got em never wanted em’ he could feel the pity coming from you, or maybe it was just sadness in general. “you’ve never been hugged?” you had sounded so broken, as if just the thought hurt you to the core. But after you got together, you compromised, you could do whatever you wanted with his hands, hold em, play with em, anything, just-don’t hug him without a week's warning.

But one day,  Harry was fully distracted, and you were too, bouncing around the room hyped up from your art project being accepted for the nautical art competition, leaping towards Harry and into his arms, laughing as he went stone still; snapped out of his daydream.

“oh, crap-im so sorry Harry! I got so caught up in my emotions and-and” you started to pull away, face flushed in embarrassment before Harry held you tight, practically melting into your arms “Harry?”

“where ‘ave ye been all me life” Harry grumbled, his arms around your waist tight and unbreakable, he-he was hugging you. “fuck” you beamed, realizing Harry-liked- your hugs. You quickly held him again, rubbing your face against his head, giggling as he gasped and snuggled into you “fuck” you laughed louder, oh he was just so cute. “pirate puddle” you teased as Harry muttered curses, his cheek smushed into your shoulder as he pressed his hands to the small of your back. One of your hands started to run through his hair, your fingernails scratching his scalp and Harry felt as if he was going to melt right then and there. He let out a garbled mess of noises and you tilted to the side, landing on his bed and continuing to giggle as Harry practically crawled into your lap, every ounce of his weight being pressed against you. “yeh can hug me whenever ye’ want, jus’ lemme know it’s you first” Harry mumbled, sounding very sleepy, as if just your touch was comforting enough to put his mind at ease to sleep.

You nodded against his head; your lips pressed to his forehead “promise! Promise.” Harry hummed, happy at your response, and moved his face to press into the crook of your neck, smiling against your skin as you giggle at the feeling “told you; hugs are great”

“should’ve listened”

“yep yep”

-end~!-

again, blame Hana for this, they messaged me about touch starved Harry this morning and i just-HAD to, ive been wanting to write TC’d Harry for a while anyway so this just gave me the excuse, gonna do more with different situations, i just wanna see/read Harry fucking shake and melt when (y/n) holds his face for the first time 

permtaglist!

@queer-cosette​ @sephiralorange​ @lunanight2012​

@daughter-of-the-stars11​ @musicarose​ @rintheemolion​

@random-thoughts-003​ @imtryingthisout​ @remembered-license​

@thecaptainsgingersnap​ @verboetoperee​ @saryguerrero​

@reallysparklychaos​ @thetrueghostqueen​ @dai-tsukki-desu​ 

[yuckydraws]

What would Red, Vant, Wine, and Mal think if their s/o would often wake them up in the morning by gently stroking their face?

They'd trail a finger gently over their nasal ridge, caress their cheek with a knuckle, or, sometimes, they even give them soft kisses until they start to stir.

I’m going to preface this by what kind of sleepers these guys are: Vant and Mal are both extremely light sleepers, the smallest movement from you will probably have them stirring already. Wine is a pretty light sleeper too, but would likely not stir until you touch him. And then there’s Red 💀💀 he sleeps so heavily.

Anyways now onto their reactions!

Red: If he’s sleeping peacefully (which, next to you, he tends to) he sleeps so deeply and you’ll likely be able to get away with lots of soft touching to his face before he stirs. If you want him to wake up, that trailing of your finger over his nasal ridge will do the trick. His face will scrunch up as he lets out a whuffle, then a grumble as he cracks open his sockets. He’s liable to pull you close to him, tucking your head under his chin as he rumbles something unintelligible. He seems grumpy, but he’s just not a morning person. Deep down? He loves lazing about in bed with you in the morning.

Vant: He’s cracking open his sockets the moment your hand moves towards him. His lights blearily take you in, as his expression, usually tight with a scowl, is all soft and confused with sleep clinging to him. Though he wakes suddenly at your movement, he has no objections to your touch, heavily leaning into your affection and letting out those quiet, deep purrs as he does so. He’s a bit grumpy in the mornings too (let’s be honest, when is he not grumpy?) and might grumble sleepily or close his sockets in attempts to get a second sleep in, but you can convince him to get up, especially with those soft kisses.

Wine: His vinaceous lights are a little fuzzy with sleep as his sockets open slowly at your gentle touches. He’s faster to wake than the others, always seeming to have endless energy, even when he’s tired. He’ll capture your hand in his and press a kiss to your palm. And then a little nuzzle to your wrist. Little nibbles to your finger tips - his lights bright with mischief as he gets you giggling with his antics. “Good Morning, My Dearest.” He’ll rumble, voice still rough with sleep. He can be convinced to laze about with you, but you better work quick because once this man is up he’s not laying back down.

Mal: Much like Vant, he’ll also be stirring once you shift and move your hand towards him. His violet lights will focus pretty quickly, though he won’t mind the gentle touching, honestly thinking it’s adorable. He’s a morning person, but wouldn’t mind lazing about with you, for a little bit. Depending on his mood he might return the favor, gently and carefully exploring your face with his clawed fingers - or he may just cheekily pull you in for some more kisses.

[thebluestbluewords]

enjoy the hypothermia, slushie boy

Mal is still about 90% asleep, maybe 20% awake,  if that, and all of that twenty percent against her will. The sunlight is trying to stab through her eyeballs like a fucking sword, and it’s fucking cold in her blanket nest for some reason, and she decides, in her sleep-addled brain, that she is going to fight the sun. Nothing that brings cold into her blankets, into her very house,  can be allowed to live. She’ll get her favorite knife, the one with the wooden grip, and she’ll stab it deep into the flesh of the sun and cut a sliver off to eat. Like the moon, only instead of cheese, the sun is going to taste like… like warm bread, Mal decides. Some of the spicy bread with the chili flakes baked in. Maybe with nuts too. The sun is probably dense and heavy, full of life and brightness, and nut bread is the heaviest. 

Something hits her head. 

“Stupid sun,” Mal grumbles, swatting it away. “G’way.” 

“Nope.” the sun says. There’s a bright little spot of warmth where the sun is touching her head, and Mal wants to bite it off. She’s really fucking hungry, and the sun would taste spicy and fill some of the cold empty space in her belly. 

“You can’t eat the sun, killer,” a voice from above her says. Logically, it’s not the sun. It’s almost definitely Jay, who is not in her bed where he should be, which is incredibly rude even by Isle standards. It’s cold in the blankets without a second body, and Mal deserves to steal all the body heat that she can get from him, and that’s hard to do when he’s not in her bed where he belongs. 

“Fuck you, sun.” Mal whispers. Her voice is hoarse from the cold, dry air in the hideout, but at least she’s identified the source of the problem now. “You left me to sleep in and freeze my ass off by myself?” 

“Yup.” Jay says brightly. “You didn’t wake up when I started throwing snowballs at the windows, so I figured you needed it. Can’t mount a rescue mission if you’re falling asleep in the middle of it.”

He’s right, but it stings a little bit. She’s supposed to be her mother’s child, and therefore always the coolest and evilest one in the room. Sleeping through a wakeup snowball isn’t exactly cool or evil, and a rescue mission sounds suspiciously like something a hero might try and do. They need to pick up the others, but Mal would rather call it a meet up, or a check-in, or something other than a goody-good rescue mission. 

On the other hand, her mother would never approve of the two of them mounting a rescue mission to the furthest reaches of the inhabitable area of the isle (the docks, in Mal’s mind, are not actually inhabitable. Anything past the main market might as well be a barren wasteland, and aside from a few random spots of scrubby trees and mud, they basically are) and thwarting her mother’s ideas of what she’s supposed to be is one of Mal’s favorite hobbies. That, and making her mother proud. 

She’s capable of containing multitudes. 

“You’re a jerk,” she says, instead of explaining her feelings on the matter. Feelings are for losers. She’s cold, first and foremost, and that’s basically like being cool, which makes her automatically not a loser. “I could’ve gotten up. I was just resting to see if you’d dare to poke me again.” 

“Sure you were,” Jay says, and pokes Mal in the head again. “And I’m fucking the king of Auradon. C’mon. Get up so we can grab the others before their parents care if we’re there.” 

[squishyimps]

Karma

——————————————————

Manitoba got his karma before being released like the others (idk man)

—————————————————-

Lers: Mike, Svetlana, Vito. Lee: Manitoba, somewhat Vito

—————————————————-

As Mike had helped Svetlana, Vito, and himself free he went to go help Mani, calling him “Manitoba! Finally-” but Mani interrupted him by saying, “Can’t talk now, BIG fire to fill.” (I couldn’t understand what he said) “What’s Mal making you do?” Mike asked with curiosity. “See them clouds?” He asked he he had everyone look up “Thems your dreams. My job is to get rid of ‘em so you can never enjoy ‘em again!” He said as he lassoed one and brought it down, Mike and Zoey kissing in the rain then faded onto it. “Oh, it’s that dream I had about kissing Zoey in the rain!” Mike said happily before continuing with, “Oh, I loved that dream!” As Svetlana added, “So romantical!” Before Manitoba threw it into the bonfire in front of him as Mike protested by saying, “Wha-?! Don’t do that!” He hollered a bit “Love to, mate. But Mal’s the boss.” He informed as Mike grumbled.

“As soon as I regain control I’m gonna give Zoey a REAL kiss. One that Mal can’t ruin!” He told himself openly as Manitoba threw another dream into the fire. “Aw c’mon! Stop burning up my dreams!” Manitoba just looked at him with an eyebrow raised as he tossed another dream into the flames. “Right- that’s it!” Before Mani could react, Mike pounced on him and began scribbling his fingers along Mani’s ribs “Woah there— Mike what are yOHOAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! MIHIHIKE! WHAT ARE YOU- *snort* STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!” Mani snorted with laughter as he tried squirming away, despite Mike sitting on his waist. Svetlana and Vito share a glance before simultaneously shrugging as they walked over to the two, Svetlana looming over Mani’s face and Vito on his side.

Svetlana then grabbed Manitoba’s wrists and held them over his head as Vito began tickling his armpits and ribs as Mike shifted his tickling towards Mani’s belly. “CRIHIHIKEHEHEHEHEHEHEY!! *snort* SVETLANAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA-! LET- LET GOHOHOHOHO!” He pleaded as he began kicking his legs “Sorry Mani, but you brought this upon yourself” She shrugged As Mike and Vito switched places, except Mike was next to Manitoba’s clamped ankle, holding his leg in an armlock as he removed his shoe and began scribbling his fingers along Mani’s foot. “GAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA N-NOT THEHEHEHEHERE!” He squealed as he tried jerking his foot away but Mike kept it in his grasp. “I didn’t expect you’s to be this ticklish, Mani” Vito teased, now tickling Manitoba’s stomach as Svetlana let go of his wrists and tickled under his arms. “OHOHOGO MY LOHOHOHOHORD! *snort* STOP IHIHIHIT!!” He protested and screeched with laughter as the tickling continued.

Before Mani knew it, one of Svetlana’s hands made it to his ear, softly tickling the back of it “BWAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAA!! *snort* NOT THEHEHEHEHEHEHEHERE! NOT THEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHERE!! *snort* CRIKEHEHEHEEHEHEHEHEHEY!” He screeched as Vito, Svetlana, and Mike stopped tickling for a moment as they stared at him whilst he caught his breath. “Wha…what are y’all lookin’ at?” He asked as he noticed them all staring at him. “Are you seriously THAT ticklish on your EARS, of all places??” Vito asked as Mani tried hiding his face in his fedora. “No, no, don’t hide now!” Svetlana said as she took his hat from his face, adding “We would like an answer.” She finished. “Uhm..I guess so..?” Mani replied with a wobbly smile and light nervous chuckle.

Apparently, it wasn’t a good enough answer as the three other alters continued their tickling, must to Manitoba’s dismay. “GAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! *snort* NO MOHOHOHOHORE! NO MORE, PLEHEHEHEHEASE!!” He practically begged for it to stop at that point as the three shared a glance before the two other guys gave Svetlana THE look as she smiled excitedly, Vito and Mike moving so she could sit on his waist. She then lifted his shirt up a bit as Vito and Mike kept his arms above his head, she then took a deep breath and blew raspberries on Mani’s belly as he practically SCREECHED. “AAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!! *snort* OHOHO MY LOHOHOHORD!! STAHAHAHAHAP IHIHIHIT!!” He begged before they all finally stopped and let him up. Mike undid Mani’s chain clampy thing that was on his ankle as Mani put his shoe back on.

“Did you learn your lesson, Mani?” Mike asked as he crossed his arms. “Nope! But I did learn not to make you mad cuz good Lord..” He said as he put one of his hands on his stomach to rub off the phantom tickles. “Well, just know karma always bites ya in the ass” Vito said as he checked his nails, earning a poke to the giggle button and a glare from Svetlana.

[sparatus]

BATHHOUSE BULLSHIT

wip game

TEEHEE so bathhouse bullshit is an exchange fill, not secret because we crave validation, but it's desabrudas early years back when they still only sometimes got along

basic premise is the shitbird squad (des, valis, heavy, mal, and lup) are on gothis, already a garbage miserable planet, and the weather has been god fucking awful, nonstop rain for like a month, it's terrible, nobody's in a good mood and even best friends are at each other's throats, so the brass springs for a morale booster day including some time at a local spa. both des and val are looking for time away from other people, but end up in the same private room, and are both too proud and stubborn to just bow out and find a different one. arguing and one-upmanship and "i hate that you're attractive, fuck you" ogling ensues.

and here, a snip feat. baby saren, for comedy reasons:

--

Saren looked up reviews online for him. Didn't even say a word, just pulled it up on the cheap little terminal he used for school, slid it down the coffee table to Des, and went back to the historically-accurate Thiayan sentry tower he was building in CuBuild. It wasn't even a shitty spa like he’d been expecting, and that might have pissed him off even more if the mere concept of an actual soak in a hot tub instead of a shitty, low-pressure shower wasn't getting him vibrating out of his plates already. Friendly staff, massages, glowing reviews, plate care... private rooms. A private soak sounded good.

“You should go," Saren told him, pulling his terminal back over so he could consult his references again. “You've been in a bad mood, it would help you."

Desolas twitched. "I have not been in a bad mood,” he grumbled, more automatic than real.

"You were taunting Valis the other day. You only taunt her when you want her to beat you up, and you only want her to beat you up when you're in a sucky mood, ’cause it gives you an excuse to get in a fight.” Saren's eyes hadn't left the vidscreen, now zooming out to check his work. "And you calm down when she throttles you, for some reason. You know therapy’s free, right? We're communists.”

Desolas froze, his neck slowly warming. Oh, he was not having that conversation. Saren was old enough to know about sex, he was eleven, imperial public education covered sex ed starting at nine, but there was no age old enough to know why his big brother got woozy and in a better mood after a giant Edessi held him down and crushed him against the earth. And what business did he have calling him out like that, anyway? Fucking kid.

He watched the screen for a minute, then leaned over. “You forgot the quad."

Saren's mandibles fluttered. “The quad?"

“Yeah, the quad. Y'know. To complete the big, throbbing krogan dick you're building.”

Now it was Saren's turn to freeze, staring at the screen like a baby varren had just gotten its head lopped off in front of him. Desolas raised his hand to point. "See, there's the head, and that's the ridging, and–”

He was interrupted by a strangled shriek and a puny preteen scrabbling at his arm and cowl, and then wrestling his brother on the floor restored his mood enough to text Malcolus to put his name on the list for him. After he’d let Saren win and assured him his tower looked great and definitely not like a krogan penis, of course.

[total-drama-takes-takes-2]

ttwt episode 13

“Last time on Total Takes, World Tour: the teams took a deep-dive under the sea in search of buried treasure- but booty wasn’t the only thing that resurfaced! After Albert’s plan to reveal Ass and Courtney backfired spectacularly, Mal led Team Yaoi to victory… but not without breaking a few hearts first. Ultimately, it was an enraged and devastated Max that caused his team to crash and burn- but it was Mr. Nice Guy themselves who took the fall after they snapped under the team pressure. With Bonnie gone, who will Max monologue to now? Find out right here, right now- on Total Takes: World Tour!”

The plane jostles again, making the hull creak and groan. The bump in the road stirs Michela awake, and her eyes open slowly, each at a different time. She looks around the room wearily, bleary-eyed and tired. It’s pretty obvious that she didn’t sleep well. 

“Looks like the traitor is finally awake, huh? Slept like a baby?”

Forget looks- if words could kill, she’d be bleeding out on the cold metal floor. Her tired eyes narrowed at the source of the sharp remark. “I’m not going to argue about this again,”

“Makes sense, considering there’s no argument,” Max snaps back. “We’re all well aware of who’s guilty here.”

“You don’t believe me? Fine! Believe whatever you want,” Michela crosses her arms and glares back. After a few seconds of exchanging scathing looks, a blanket of sadness falls between them. She sighs. “Maybe we should just take a break for a little while. We won’t solve anything like this.”

Max stands. “Maybe we should,”

And with that, he breezes out of the cabin. If there were a door to slam, then he would’ve woken everyone this side of the plane with the impact. Michela slumps and grumbles to herself, though she’s looking far more exhausted than angry. 

Phillip is curled in the fetal position under a bench, sucking his thumb. Albert is nowhere to be seen, and only Kelly seems to be awake besides her. The blond waves sympathetically, and Michela forces a smile back. 

“Sleep well, I assume?” she asks, taking note of Kelly’s usual sunny disposition. 

“Mhm. I have a very specific beauty routine. It helps lull me into a peaceful sleep…” Kelly smiles brightly, pulling a massive suitcase from under the bench. They flip the lid off and reveal an array of bottles, bags, cases, and tools Michela couldn’t even place. “Now… you look like you could use some TLC,” the blonde comments, raising an eyebrow at her disarrayed state. “Let’s have a spa morning!”

Michela opens her mouth to protest, but holds her tongue. “...Yeah, sure,”

---

MICHELA: “Listen, I… I need someone to talk to, okay? And I need… allies. Kelly would believe me, right? Nothing happened between me and Albert!”

---

First class feels stuffy this morning, even with Mal long gone, having disappeared early in the morning without a word. 

Julia is pacing, and has been since the crack of dawn. Suffice to say, she isn’t exactly happy with how the game has been unfolding, despite Team Yaoi’s consistent wins. 

Ass and Courtney are sitting beside each other, but neither look very content. 

“Should we… talk about what we’re going to do?” Courtney whispers, leaning in to avoid Julia’s sharp gaze. 

Ass raises an eyebrow. “And that means…?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know. Albert figured something out, and he was going to tell everyone. Mal lied- there’s no argument about that- now Michela and Max aren’t even looking at each other. And it’s our fault,”

“Our fault? What that lunatic does is none of my concern!” Ass snaps, crossing their arms. “Max and Michela will be fine. We need to stay under the radar.”

Courtney’s brow furrows. “But it’s not right. Michela is my friend, and Max doesn’t deserve-”

Ass turns away, crossing their arms and closing Courtney out of the conversation. They huff. 

“Real mature,”

---

COURTNEY: “And just when I thought Ass had changed… ”

---

Courtney sighs, slumping in their seat just as Chris’ ever-merry voice rings out over the intercom. “Attention, passengers! If you’ll look out the windows on the right side of the plane, you’ll see your next destination,”

Julia stops pacing and runs to the window, peering outside. She gasps in delight, her sour mood temporarily lifting. 

“That’s right- welcome to tropical paradise! We’re flying right into the 330-island nation of Fiji!”

---

“Oh, good- sun! Just what I need,” Kelly says, stepping away from a glammed-out Michela to dig through their suitcase again. They pull out an industrial sized container of coconut-scented sunscreen. “I’ve been sorely missing out on some quality vitamin D.”

They pump a handful of the powerfully scented stuff and slather it over their arms, turning them sheet-white. 

“Woah, you look like a ghost!” Phillip says, staring down as they cover their face and then begin attending to their new friend. Michela doesn’t stop them. 

“It’s basic SPF- sunscreen prevents wrinkles,” they say merrily. 

“And skin cancer, but yeah, wrinkles,” Max mutters dryly, walking back into the room with three chutes. “Gear up for another air-landing. And Kelly, get off of the traitor.”

Kelly pouts, but obliges, stepping away from an overly-moisturized Michela. The latter doesn’t even bother to ask if Max grabbed a chute for her. 

Around the corner, Albert listens to the exchange intently. 

---

ALBERT: “So, my plan got derailed. Whatever. These things happen all the time, and I don’t need a secret to cause some chaos,”

---

He finally clears his throat and turns the corner, handing Michela a parachute. Max glares, and Albert returns the expression. 

Kelly notices the exchange and frowns. “Let’s focus on winning the game today- and having fun! Maybe we can do some team-building ex-”

“No!” Max snaps, buckling the pack around him. They sigh. 

---

“Ah, bottled water… clear, refreshing, expensive-” Chris holds up a large, squared bottle of crystalline H2O. The contestants watch him, filled with jealousy as he makes a show of drinking the whole thing in front of them. “Ahhh, Fiji- beautiful, beautiful Fiji! Much like this crisp treat, today’s challenge is all about water.”

“Again?” Albert raises an eyebrow, a small smile on his lips. Instigating Chris is too easy.

Sure enough, the host grimaces. “Listen, man, we gotta take breaks too!” Behind him, Chef lugs out an inflatable pool. “ANYWAY, as I was saying. Hope you guys have sailing experience, cause this is a good old fashioned boat race!”

Kelly grins widely, and begins to say something before Max shushes them sharply, holding a finger to their lips. 

“As you know, there are around 330 islands that make up Fiji- today, you’ll be sailing a traditional Fijian boat, called the drua, from island to island, collecting these!” Chris beams, holding up three little flags. Each is color coordinated to the teams. “You have to collect every one of these flags to win. First team across the finish line gets immunity. Last… well, you know the drill.” he chuckles to himself. “You’ll find your “sailboats” on the beach behind you. Good luck!”

The day is warm- almost too much for comfort. On the other hand, Kelly seems perfectly comfortable, adjusting a wide-brimmed hat and chic sunglasses on themselves while Max tries to push Team Friendship’s drua into the sea. 

“Hey, princess- a little help, here!” he huffs, struggling against the sand. Phillip is already aboard, posing dramatically on the bow of the boat like a hardy sea captain. Max grits his teeth. 

“Oops! Sorry!” Kelly says, running over to push the boat with their knuckles, avoiding their nails. Max sighs, looking more tired than ever. The blond struggles for a moment, smiling through it. “You know… I’m actually quite experienced with relationship troubles-”

“That’s enough!” Max says swiftly, slamming into the boat with his shoulder. It finally rolls off of the sand and into the shallows, and within minutes they’re out to sea. 

---

Mal hums to herself, looking rather unenthused as she kicks a shell across the beach. The palm trees are swaying in the breeze, the wind filling the sail… and yet, it doesn’t budge, no matter how Ass and Courtney push. 

“Map!” Julia says from aboard, excitedly pulling a thin sheet of paper from a storage compartment on the deck. “Looks like we got some water, too.”

“That’s all great and merry! Now if we could get out to sea, we could actually make use of that!” Ass says sharply, the sarcasm sending a shiver down Courtney’s spine. 

The pink-haired player lowers their voice to a whisper as the two continue to push. “Tone down the attitude, will you?”

Ass huffs. “What attitude?”

---

ASS: “Okay, okay. I admit it. It’s no secret that I can be a little… rough around the edges. But it’s better than being soft and getting trampled! I let my guard down with Courtney and that almost got us exposed. That’s not happening again!”

---

The two finally dislodge the heavy sailboat from the sand and push it into the water. Julia sits aboard, patting the seat beside her for Mal to scamper up. 

“We’re going to have to guide this thing out of the shallows, or we’ll get stuck,” Julia says, matter-of-factly. Ass rolls their eyes. 

“Wow, really? I had no idea,” they snap, pushing the boat along. “Got any other fun facts?”

Julia glares, and Courtney shivers again. 

Once the drua is finally deep enough, the blonde leader reluctantly pulls Courtney, then Ass aboard. Mal continues humming to herself, attaching a tiny umbrella to her phone case so she can see the screen under the harsh glare of the sun. 

“Okay. Obviously, I’m captain, and Mal is first mate,” Julia starts, ignoring Ass’ “typical”. “Who wants to navigate?”

“I should,” Ass and Courtney both say, crossing their arms. The two blink, and then stare at each other before speaking in unison again. “No, I should- no, me!”

“What would you know about navigation? I was basically the team leader in Island!” Courtney says, putting their hands on their hips. 

“Hah! Hardly. A big softie like you could never lead a team,” 

Julia sighs and massages her temples. Mal pops earbuds in. The two other team members continue bickering, throwing personal blows at each other until the blonde gets fed up. 

“Alright, that’s ENOUGH! Mal, you’re navigating,” she hands the paper map to the aforementioned. “Pretend it’s like, Google Maps, but on paper, okay?”

“Okay!” The brunette says cheerily. 

“As for you two- I don’t know why you’re suddenly at each other’s throats again, but the next migraine I get, I’m throwing you overboard,”

---

JULIA: “Is this my fault? I mean, once I took on the leadership role, Ass and Courtney were basically best friends. I’ve been so obsessed with training Mal, I’ve been completely neglecting my other two pups and now they’re at each other’s throats again! I swear, I’m going to have to muzzle those two,”

---

 Albert squints ahead, using his hand to shield his eyes from the glare of the sun. The idyllic, crystal-clear water does nothing to prevent the blinding light from reflecting back on the two remaining Team Mojo members. 

“Okay, compass, map…” Michela sits on her knees on deck as she counts through their supplies. “Water, and sunscreen. I won’t need any of that, though. Yuck.”

Albert steers, not bothering to look back as he keeps his eyes on the sea. Nonetheless, he can tell that Michela is trying to scrape the artificial coconut scent from her skin behind him. “You and Kelly getting along?”

She shrugs. “I need allies. If we lose, it’s either me or you, and if it’s you… I’ll need some backup,”

“Smart,” Albert smiles. “I don’t know if Kelly’s who you should be betting on, though- they’re soft. Too sunshine and rainbows. Ignorance is bliss, after all.”

Michela sighs. “I know, I know. I wish Max would just believe me,”

“Trust me,” Albert says, noticing an island off in the distance. “That definitely wasn’t a part of the plan.”

---

Team Friendship docks first, landing in the shallows so as to avoid their rocky start in the sand. Max jumps off, wading through the aquamarine water. 

The flags are embedded in the sandy beach, the harsh, artificial colors sticking out against the green background. He nabs Team Friendship’s and runs back. 

“That’s one, how many do we have left to snag?” he asks, awkwardly climbing aboard. 

“Eight. What’s with the sudden macho power?” Phillip says, holding the map above his head to shield him from the sun. 

Max grits his teeth. “Team Mojo has to go. I won’t sleep until that tree-hugging freak is falling 32,000 feet. Preferably without a parachute,”

Kelly and Phillip make fleeting eye contact. 

---

MAX: “I’m well aware of the 50% risk that Michela will take the fall instead of Albert. Do I care? Not particularly. One way or another, that hippie is going to suffer,”

---

“What do I have to tell him?” Michela sighs, folding the map as she runs back to the drua with another flag. “It’s like nothing I say makes him believe me!”

Albert snags the flag and sets it in the storage compartment before they set off again. “He’s in denial right now. He’s got some major issues, and he wasn’t mentally prepared for the unexpected,”

She scoffs. “Is anyone?”

“Oh… you’d be surprised,” Albert smiles to himself, looking ahead again. “Once you accept you’re at the mercy of a cold and uncaring universe, you can learn to… manipulate that chaos. Like Mal did.”

“That’s a crummy thing to do to a person,” Michela sighs, putting her head in her hands. Albert rolls his eyes. 

---

Julia fans her face with the map, the breeze from the sea offering no relief from the sun. Mal continues lying back, shaded by her phone’s umbrella attachment. She giggles at something, making both Ass and Courtney flinch. 

“Okay, three down, six to go,” the blonde says plainly, gesturing to the team flags lying on the deck. “I think we’re ahead, so we shouldn’t have to worry too much.”

Courtney still looks uneasy, staring out to sea with a deep frown. Ass notices their expression and scooches away from them. 

“If you’re gonna be seasick, don't get any of it near me,”

“Could you try to be a little more empathetic? We just ruined someone’s relationship,” they hiss back. “Wasn’t one of your worst nightmares someone kissing your hypothetical fiance?”

“Okay, first of all, I got over that ages ago. Second of all: Not. Our. Problem. When are you going to get it?” Ass whispers back, their tone laced with poison. “You need to get off your high horse!”

Their eyes narrow, and they wag an accusing finger. “I didn’t realize “basic human decency” is a high standard, now,” 

“Well, we are on Total Drama,” Mal says, appearing between the two. They both go pale and scream. 

“Keep it down back there!” Julia shouts, not bothering to turn around. 

“H-how much of that did you hear?” Courtney says, leaning as far away from Mal as possible without tipping overboard. 

Mal grins widely, then shrugs. “All of it. Everything. And I mean everything,” she pauses to chuckle. “You two should be so lucky I covered for you back then!”

Ass and Courtney stare at each other, wide-eyed. “You mean…” the latter says, voice trembling. “You saved us… on purpose?”

Ass glares. “What’s your angle? What do you want?”

“Nothing,” Mal shrugs, Cheshire grin still plastered to her face. “It’s out of the goodness of my Christian soul.”

“Your what?”

She leans in closer, baring her teeth. “My heart may have grown three sizes, but it’s still a Mal heart, so you better watch your backs. La la la la la!”

Mal skips away, returning to her phone. Ass and Courtney turn to each other, eyes wide. 

“Okay, now we have to come forward,” the latter says. 

“As if! I’m not getting on that psycho’s bad side!”

“Hey!”

“Hey yourself!”

Julia whips around, hands on her hips. “WHAT DID I-”

A faint, familiar ding rings out across the seas and Team Yaoi breathes a collective sigh of relief. Julia rolls her eyes. 

“Sailing seas, this’ll be a breeze,” Julia sings, pacing between her team members. “Now first class is guaranteed.”

“Stay on board and shut your traps, I don’t wanna see that hate relapse!”

Ass glares. “Sail the seas then, with a smile, this ain’t no damn juvenile trial!”

Courtney leans into them, whispering. “We have a chance to do something good,”

“But just because you can ‘don’t mean you should!” they snap back. 

“We are sailing seas! 

We are sailing seas

We are sailing seas!

We are sailing seas!”

Mal watches Ass and Courtney interact with a malicious smile. “This game is no easy feat- but one more push and it’ll be complete!”

“What’s it matter if we take the win!” Courtney hisses at a less-than-amused Ass. “We should be doing the right thing!”

“We are sailing seas! 

We are sailing seas

We are sailing seas!

We are sailing seas!”

The music cuts out, but the chatter doesn’t end as Courtney and Ass bicker amongst themselves. Julia’s expression turns sour and she suddenly lunges to the right, sending their boat careening off to a sandbar. 

The two squabbling players scream as the sudden movement tosses them overboard, onto the shallow patch of sand. 

“What was that for?!” Ass shouts. 

Julia puts her hands on her hips. “As team leader, I’m sentencing the both of you to a time-out. Until you get your crap together and stop regressing on all the progress I’ve made, you’re stuck here!”

“WHAT!” they scoff. “You’re really going to sacrifice the team for that?!”

“Chris never said all the players have to cross the finish line. Just flags,” she snaps back. “We’ll come get you after we win.”

Courtney shouts “Wait!” but it’s too late. The wind picks up and blows Team Yaoi’s drua away, leaving half of its members stranded in the sand. Courtney scoffs. 

“She can’t seriously leave us here. She’ll come back,” 

Ass rolls their eyes, swiping the sand off their outfit. “Aren’t you the optimist?”

“Okay, what is WITH YOU?” Courtney shouts, startling Ass immensely. Their eyes widen in shock as the pink-haired player stands, throwing out their arms for emphasis. “What happened to no regrets? What happened to getting along? I can’t be this naive- you have changed, and now you’re regressing on purpose. Why?”

Ass flushes red and crosses their arms, attempting to build a wall of aloofness between the two. After a few moments of silence, they grumble. 

“If anything, you’re regressing. You’re all soft and pushover-y again. Who cares about what happens to some dumb couple? People break up all the time,”

“I care because they’re my friends. Well… sort of,”

“No, you care because you feel guilty. Because you’re ashamed of us being together- of me,” Ass snaps back, pointing an accusing finger at them. “You want to get us eliminated so you won’t have to deal with the mess we made.”

Courtney turns pale. “I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,”

“Oh, please. Look at you! Everyone loves you. You’re nice, you’re generous, you always know just what to say. You wouldn’t be caught dead with someone like me,” Ass pulls their knees to their chest and stares at the sand. “I’m nothing but trouble.”

A pang of guilt echoes through Courtney’s chest and they sit beside them. “...What makes you think that?”

“This… stuff… follows me everywhere I go,” they sigh. “Drama. Breakups. Meltdowns. I’m an omen. You wouldn’t want me around- no one does.”

Courtney shakes their head. “That can’t be true. You’ve had a string of bad luck-”

“It’s hardly luck. It’s a pattern- every time I so much as let my guard down, something terrible happens. It happened with Mal, and now it’s happening with you,” they say, eyes still fixed on the sand beneath them as they hug their knees. “I have to be tough. I have to be mean. When I’m not… I just get crapped on.”

Courtney frowns deeply and looks ahead for a moment, trying to think of an adequate response. Has that been it all along? Ass is… afraid?

A bird calls out overhead. The waves lap at the edges of the sandbar, the tide threatening to soak their shoes again. 

“Are those jerks ever coming back for us?” Ass snaps, staring at the vacant sea ahead of them. 

Courtney ignores their quip, and offers a hand on their shoulder. “Maybe… it’s not entirely your fault. Maybe you just attract quitters,”

They raise an eyebrow, trying hard to ignore the gesture of affection. “What does that mean?”

“To me, it sounds like people only like you when things are easy, but when the going gets tough they leave you behind for their own convenience. That’s not fun, and I understand how it feels to be alone…” they trail off, looking aside. The aquamarine waves are so peaceful. 

They rest their head on their knees. “It’s not fun. That’s for sure,”

Courtney watches them for a moment, then offers a smile. “Lucky for you, I don’t give up so easily,” 

Ass accepts it, and gives a soft grin back. “You sure don’t know when to quit,”

“Nope!” they say merrily, chuckling. The two of them laugh together before their hands find a way to connect. 

Courtney gives theirs a gentle squeeze. “Being soft isn’t a bad thing, you know,”

“I know. It’s just easier to be rude. Why is that?”

They shrug. “It comes easier to some than others, I suppose. I used to have problems asserting myself, and you have no trouble with that,”

“Well… you’ve definitely turned out to be pretty stuck-up, I’ll give you that,” Ass grins again. “If you can turn into a total stick-in-the-mud… maybe I can try this whole “nice” thing out.”

Courtney smiles. “I’m looking forward to it,”

A sudden shout from afar catches both of their attention. “HEY! Need a ride?”

---

Courtney and Ass both close their eyes and enjoy the feeling of the breeze blowing through the boat, tossing around their hair and cooling their faces as they sit on the back of Team Mojo’s drua. 

“I still don’t think this is a good idea,” Albert comments. “Team Yaoi still might be disqualified with half their players missing.”

Michela shushes him. “It’s the right thing to do,”

Courtney nudges Ass, and nods towards their conversation. The latter turns away with a slightly guilt-stricken expression. 

---

ALBERT: “This whole “breakup” thing has really thrown Michela through an emotional loop. What’s next? Baking cookies for the enemy? No- no, I’ve got to fix this, somehow,”

---

“Almost there!” Max shouts, eyes widening at the upcoming finish line. 

Kelly assorts their flags behind them, piling them into a neat little stack. Phillip is fanning himself, and his skin is now a fiery shade of red from the burning sun. 

He winces as he stands to look for the checkered banner marking the end of their sailing journey. Kelly raises an eyebrow. 

“Are you sure you don’t want-”

“Real men don’t wear sunscreen,” he wheezes, yelping in pain when a breeze hits his skin. Kelly winces. 

Their drua flies through the finish line, cutting the decorative ribbon in two. Chris waves a checkered flag. “And Team Friendship has won the challenge!”

Max cheers, jumping around the wooden boat. “Yes! Yes! Immunity! Fingers crossed, everyone- that freak is going HOME!”

“And here comes Team Yaoi!”

Max cheers again, much to Kelly and Phillip’s bewilderment. 

Team Yaoi’s drua stops right behind the preceding, and Julia grits her teeth. Mal snaps a quick pic of Max cheering and goes back to blogging. 

“Second place- not great, but not- hmmm,” Chris says, interrupting his own train of thought to squint and rub his chin. “Looks like you’re missing a few players.”

“Oh, who cares? They probably got eaten by sharks,” Julia snaps, rolling her eyes. Mal nods in agreement alongside her. 

“Wait! We’re here!” Ass’s voice rings out over the water as they, in the back of Team Mojo’s drua, arrive dead last. 

“Hm. Well, seeing as Team Mojo technically crossed the finish line with all players first… Team Yaoi, third place!”

“WHAT!” Julia yells. “But- you didn’t say anything about needing all-”

“Is that not implied in like, every challenge? Come on, dudes,” Chris sighs, rolling his eyes. Julia glares at him.

“I’ll see you to-”

“WAIT!” Ass shouts, holding out their hands to silence the crowds. “I have something to confess!”

Courtney raises an eyebrow. “What are you doing-”

They turn to them, a sincere expression on their face. “The right thing,”

Ass looks back to the other teams, all waiting in anticipation. Chris rubs his hands together, chuckling to himself, as if he’s been waiting for this. They take a deep breath.

“Albert and Michela never kissed. Mal lied to… well… to cover for us,” Ass says. “Courtney and I are the ones who kissed.”

Max’s stern expression drops. Michela sighs a breath of relief. 

Julia turns red. 

“YOU… YOU WHAT?”

Courtney opens their mouth, but is quickly cut off by the enraged blonde. “YOU’VE BEEN GOING BEHIND MY BACK THIS WHOLE TIME… IN AN ALLIANCE?! AND MAL WAS COVERING FOR YOU?!”

Mal sighs, her shoulders slumping. “You just had to go and ruin all my fun, didn’t you?”

“DID YOU REALLY THINK I WOULDN’T FIND OUT? I’M THE LEADER! WE’RE SUPPOSED TO BE A TEAM! YOU- YOU- I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU! YOU ARE SO DEAD!”

An intern runs over to place a set of noise-canceling headphones over Chris’ ears as he watches the explosion unfold with a wide grin. The other teens are forced to cover their ears and wince. 

---

JULIA: “So, let me get this straight: I’m not actually a brilliant leader who brought my team together in its hour of need- instead, I’m the chump who’s been trying to corral a sheep dog and a bargain-bin enemies-to-lovers plot? SERIOUSLY?”

---

Economy is stiff tonight, and only Albert seems to be relaxed as he flips through his book in the corner. Michela is staring off into space, a strained look on her. Ass and Courtney are nervously glancing between the floor and Julia, who’s glaring daggers at them. Mal is chewing gum, peering over the top of her phone at the tense scene unfolding. 

Finally, an intruder breaches the silence. 

“Michela, can we… talk? Somewhere private?” Max asks, sheepishly standing in the doorway. 

“We can talk here,” She replies coldly. 

He sighs, but obliges, sitting next to her. After a moment of silence, she turns back. “Well?”

“I’m sorry. I-”

“I can’t believe you wouldn’t trust me! I’ve never done anything suspicious, have I? I’ve never been anything but a good girlfriend, right? I can’t believe you’d take a nutcase’s- no offense, Mal- word over mine without even thinking about it! Without even asking me! I can’t believe it!” Michela blurts out, her hands tightly clasped to her chest. “If that’s really what you think of me, how can I be sure to trust you?”

“Chel, I don’t think of you like that,” Max says quickly. “I was… reactionary, I’ll admit that my response was uncalled for. I really am sorry, I should have listened.”

She sighs. “I just… I need some time to think about this. I’ll see you tomorrow,” 

And with that, Michela turns her back to him. Max’s shoulders slump and he sighs. 

---

MAX: “This is deserved. This is deserved. This is deserved,” his eye twitches. 

---

“Team Yaoi- welcome back!” Chris chuckles. “It’s been a while, huh?”

The teens looked between each other, rather nervous- aside from Julia, who’s glaring straight ahead. 

“Despite all your team intermingling, every single player got one vote today,” he says, waving around the passports. “Which means we’re at a four-way tie. Usually, we’d have some kind of fancy themed challenge, but this time, I decided to draw straws. It’s been a lazy- BUSY! Busy day for me.”

Julia rolls her eyes. “Can we just get on with this?”

“Whatevs! And your eliminee for today… is-”

“WAIT!” 

Julia sighs. “Again with the deus ex-machina. Can we get a break?”

Ass stands, storming over and grabbing the chute from Chris’ hands. They fasten it around themselves with a stern expression. 

Courtney also rises to their feet. “What are you-”

“I don’t know. Something chivalrous, and heroic, and stupid, I guess,” they sigh, buckling themselves in. “I’m trying out this whole “nice” thing.”

A small smile graces Courtney’s lips. Julia gags. 

“You know, this is totally against the rules,” the blonde says, then sighs. “And of course, he’s going to allow it.”

Chris beams. “Am I that predictable?”

“Very,”

Ass finished fastening the chute and steps to the doorway. “Well… bye, I guess,”

“Jump already!” Julia shouts. Mal blows a gum bubble and pops it loudly. 

“Can it,” they say, then turn to Courtney. “Court- if anyone deserves to win this thing, it’s you. I’ll be cheering you on from the sidelines... in a very sincere and non-sarcastic way.”

“I’m counting on it,” they smile, crossing their arms. 

Ass smiles in return, blows back a kiss (much to Julia’s disgust and Mal’s surprise), and then jumps. 

---

ASS: “And there you go. That’s what you get for being “soft”...” They roll their eyes, but sigh. “...But… it was worth it.”

---

“It was like, totally ridiculous. And out of character!” Mal says, pacing. “Maybe Albert’s confessionals have been onto something with his whole “chaos” bit.”

“Albert is a raving lunatic. There is no randomness, only fate. Only the Lord’s plan,” Frollo says plainly, snapping the heavy book on his lap shut. 

The plane creaks, making the cargo old shudder. A few suitcases topple over behind them. Mal sighs and sits next to him. 

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right… I’m usually good at making predictions, though,”

He scoffs, turning to her. “You’re no prophet,”

“I know. I would’ve made such a good one, though,” She sighs dreamily. “But that’s not the point. This game is getting too risky.”

Frollo rolls his eyes, petting one of the rats that scurries around his feet. “You’re always welcome to join me,”

“Why? You get lonely down here or something?” 

He doesn’t respond. Another one of Mal’s signature Cheshire grins creeps up her face, and she stands again. “The only way I become a permanent resident of the cargo hold is when I lose- and that’s not gonna happen. But… trust me, the dominoes will fall, and when they do, you can be sure you’ll have a place by my side,”

[stromuprisahat]

Alina and the Darkling’s interactions, pt. 15

Siege and Storm- Chapter 3, continuation

More arguing, more denying for the sake of disagreement, more of degrading the “villain”...

“He can’t wait to get away from you.”

I’d beg to differ. Pretty sure he’s trying really hard not to kill you, Alina.

...the bright edge of the blade pressed to Mal’s throat. The man holding him wore a familiar sneer. Ivan. *** “Drink.” I open my eyes. Ivan’s scowling face comes into focus. “You do it,” he grumbles to someone. *** It was hard climbing with my hands in irons, and Ivan quickly lost patience. He hooked my wrists to haul me up the last few feet. *** Before I could begin to sort through them, Ivan appeared and began yanking me back across the main deck. “Slow down,” I protested, but he just gave another jerk on my sleeve. *** “Move,” Ivan ordered. I struggled to my knees. He nudged me with the toe of his boot... *** “She’s the Darkling’s prisoner,” said Ivan, “and a traitor.” *** “Bring her,” he called to Ivan. “Mal—” I began as Ivan grasped my arm. Mal lifted his bound hands, reaching for me. His fingers grazed mine briefly, then Ivan was hauling me back toward the hatch.

Ivan’s never been fond of Alina, he’s clearly far from excited about their quest to find her. He’s more likely to be afraid for the Darkling, than of him.

The Darkling doesn’t miss a chance for a little dig at one of Alina’s less desirable qualities. He’s also avoiding direct answer once again. Alina doesn’t mind, she’s happy to supply it herself.

Free from illusions? Free from dependency? Free from small mindedness? Free from what?

The Darkling plays tutor. Alina’s interested in possible harm, not education. Knowing future events, I can say it could’ve help her call his bluff at the end of Ruin and Rising.

The Darkling’s a beacon to volcra, but they don’t try to eat him? I’d be sceptical. We could explain their “attraction” with magic, but if we view them as carnivorous creatures, why would they scratch his face, but not take a chunk off?

They [volcra] were his creations, just like the thing that had buried its teeth in my shoulder.

Nichevo’ya are different “animals”. Volcra are mutated once-humans, nichevo’ya creatures torn from the Darkling’s own being.

Calling on merzost was painful, like a breath torn from his lungs, a moment of terror as his life was ripped away to form another. Creation. Abomination. But he was used to it by now.

...

“It’s not an experience I’d care to repeat. I’ve had my fill of the volcra’s mercy. And yours.”

Good thing Alina doesn’t consider the Darkling capable of human emotions, so she doesn’t have to think about how he had to feel, losing everything just a step before achieving his lives-long goal. How desperate he had to be to resort to merzost, standing in the result of his last failed attempt to control it.

Gods, how I wish he were done with Alina.

I love the contradiction between practicality about use of Alina’s powers and sort of belief Morozova’s amplifiers are akin to family heirloom, therefore she- his counterpart- should have them. Aleksander already is an amplifier himself, so who else should claim his grandfather’s creations? As (m)any beliefs it muddles his judgement when it comes to Alina’s future.

When one accusation doesn’t stick, try scholar pose... and then emotional manipulation.

We should read this as guilt over him blinding Baghra, but I’d suggest different interpretation:

The Darkling is centuries-old immortal, but the only person he’s had through all those years is his abusive mother. He understands she’s not supportive, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t long for her approval or affection. It’s irrational, but she’s the only person he belives won’t die on him and she’s still his MOTHER. He wants to be loved by her no matter how much she acts like anything but capable of that.

Perhaps he’d seen her betrayal sooner.

Alina reading willingly?! I don’t remember her doing anything for her own enjoyment. It’s either assignments or what her clique drags her to do.

Peasant propaganda? I’d love to read more about the Darkling’s experience in this particular field. 

This isn’t even Alina trying to persuade herself, she just says the opposite of what the Darkling does. Like a child trying to trump another in an argument. 

Equality should never be about lowering yourself to whichever level’s necessary.

Naturally, Alina isn’t willing to admit the Big Bad Darkling could feel anything, fortunately, the reader doesn’t have to be so biased. Is it only me, or does this sound like Aleksander’s speaking from experience? Like he has specific people on mind? We never learn much about his life, but even in books there are crumbs, painting life full of loss and tragedy.

His first soldiers were dead now. Lovers, allies, countless kings and queens. Only he continued on. Eternity took practice, and he’d had plenty of it. 

Alina never likes to hear unpleasant facts, especially criticism of her. What she loves is blaming others. Two chapters earlier, she hoped to never see Ravka again. Chapter later, she painted herself the saviour. Now, the Darkling’s the real villain once again.

Alina kept complaining about the exact same thing even before she was discovered to be Grisha.

I glanced at Mal. There had been a time when I could have told him anything.

...

“You know she’ll [Zoya] be staying at camp,” he said with a leer.

“I hear the Grisha tent’s as big as a cathedral,” added Dubrov.

“Lots of nice shadowy nooks,” said Mikhael, and actually waggled his brows.

Mal whooped. Without sparing me another glance, the three of them strode off, shouting and shoving one another.

...

Mal laughed. I hesitated by the door. This was the hardest part of being around him—other than the way he made my heart do clumsy acrobatics. I hated hiding how much the stupid things he did hurt me, but I hated the idea of him finding out even more. I thought about just turning around and going back inside. Instead, I swallowed my jealousy and sat down beside him.

...

When we’d first started our military service a year ago, Mal had visited me almost every night. But he hadn’t come by in months.

...

We’d spent more than ten years of our lives in Keramzin, but usually I got the impression that Mal wanted to forget everything about the place, maybe even me.

...

I wanted to believe that Mal and I would always be friends, but I had to face the fact that we were on different paths. Lying in the dark, waiting for sleep, I wondered if those paths would just keep taking us further and further apart, and if a day might come when we would be strangers to each other once again.

... that’s just the first chapter of the first book, but that’s okay, because Alina’s willing to ignore it as long as Malyen’s happy. See: Their time in Cofton.

Such a beautiful quote.

(So easily destroyed with few retcons...)

Yeah, it's probably how scared he is of the Darkling. Doesn't wanna come in unless he's ordered to...

I know Alina doesn’t think, but why would Ivan come when she calls? I’m sure he was overjoyed to hear her yell his name.

... aaaand back to dehumanizing the Darkling in attempt to make him less right.

I’d guess not clinging to someone, who hates your otherness might help to deal with that feeling, but that’s just me.

All previous parts.

[dweetwise]

[Riconti] Clairvoyance

This one's a very self-indulgent, Ace-centric fic I've been wanting to write for a while and I hope you like it! Thank you @vampirtulpe for helping with the German parts! The translations into English are at the end of this post. Rated T | 3.9k words | ao3 link

Ace slowly blinked awake to the morning sun illuminating the room.

He groaned and rolled onto his side, fully intending to bury his face into the pillow and snooze the day away until someone forcibly dragged him out of bed.

Or at least that was the plan before Ace saw the man next to him, and sleep suddenly became a much lower priority.

Ace curled more comfortably under the fluffy blanket and shamelessly admired Felix’s profile against the soft rays of the sun. Felix was sitting with his back against the headboard and wearing his favorite pajamas, a light blue silk that had faded from years of use. Reading glasses were perched on his nose and his attention was occupied by a book in his hands. Graying strands of hair fell in his face and only highlighted the fact that he’d aged gracefully, with small wrinkles around his eyes and a quiet confidence about him while he relaxed in the stillness of a lazy morning.

“Are you going to simply stare the entire day?” Felix asked. He was still focused on his book but a smile tugged on his lips.

Ace chuckled, his voice rough with sleep. “Just enjoying the view, gorgeous.”

Felix huffed and closed the book, putting both it and his glasses on the nightstand before facing Ace.

“And here I thought the compliments would get fewer with age,” Felix teased.

“Oh, I’m just getting started,” Ace said. “In a couple years I’m gonna be describing your pretty face with big words like ethereal and aristocratic.”

Felix rolled his eyes and crawled back under the covers. He reached over to brush some of Ace’s bed head out of his eyes, the gold band on his finger glinting in the sunlight as he did so. 

“You're impossible,” Felix said.

Ace snaked his hand out from under the blanket, clasping Felix's and bringing it to his lips. “Only for you.”

Felix thumbed at the matching ring on Ace's finger with a soft smile. Ace's heart throbbed with emotion as he relished in the familiar comfort of waking up next to the man he loved.

He leaned closer, fully intent on getting in some morning kisses before starting their day…

Before the door burst open and they both startled apart.

There was the pitter-patter of tiny feet on the hardwood floor before a blur of pink pajamas and blonde hair slung itself onto the foot of the bed.

“Papaa!” Klara whined, intruding on their moment.

“Klara,” Felix chastised, though his eyes were fond. “Hab ich dir nicht schon tausend Mal gesagt, dass du klopfen sollst?”

"Aber es ist schon neun Uhr!" Klara said, bouncing on the soft mattress. “Time to feed fish!”

Felix glanced at the clock. “So it is.” He shot Ace a quick smile in apology before lifting the covers to get up.

“Tell you what,” Ace said, quickly halting Felix with a hand on his shoulder. “Why don't I handle it this time?”

Felix paused. “Really?”

“What do you say, squirt?” Ace asked Klara. "Willste ein paar Fette Karpfen mit mir füttern?"

“Ja!” Klara laughed, her blue eyes sparkling.

“The carps aren’t fat,” Felix grumbled.

“Oh, of course not, the roundness is just water weight,” Ace teased. “Leonardo is actually so malnourished that he just had to eat all the decorative algae you put in.”

“And the flowers!” Klara excitedly added. “He eats everything.”

“And if we're not quick, he'll eat you too!” Ace grinned and reached over to tickle Klara, who squealed before jumping out of bed with a giggle.

“Na los!” she said, already running out into the hallway.

“Be right there!” Ace hollered, then turned to Felix. “I just need to finish what I started here, first.”

Felix leaned back against the headboard with a lazy smile. “Then take what you need.”

Ace placed a hand on Felix’s chest over the soft silk and leaned in for an even softer kiss.

Felix hummed into it, a low and satisfied sound that made affection surge through Ace’s body, even after all these years. Felix’s morning stubble rasped against Ace's beard as they kissed languidly, and though Felix’s lips were a little dry from sleep, they were still so warm and achingly familiar against Ace’s own.

Ace slowly pulled away with what was probably a stupidly smitten smile on his face. “Now I can focus on the fish,” Ace said.

“Hmm,” Felix said. “Maybe this time you won't fall into the koi pond.”

“Okay, smartass, that was one time at at least fifty percent your fault—”

“Ace! Hurry or Leonardo will eat us!” Klara’s high pitched shouting came from downstairs.

Ace chuckled and grabbed his morning robe as he got out of bed. “On my way!”

He shot Felix one last wink, opened the bedroom door, and—

Ace bolted upright with a gasp.

He was greeted by the familiar silence of the dark forest surrounding the campfire. Only a fire barrel crackled nearby, illuminating Ace's own nook in the Entity's realm; a trunk overflowing with looted items, patterned shirts hanging from a tree branch in a makeshift clothes rack, and an upside-down wooden crate that served as the poker table.

Ace breathed out and tried to reorient himself to reality. It was just a dream—just a very, very vivid dream.

Which was strange because none of them really dreamed anymore, save for the occasional nightmare after a trial or flashback of their past lives. Yui had once said that it felt like the Entity prodding and poking around in their heads while they slept. Predictably, most of them stayed wide awake for quite some time after that.

But a domestic morning in bed with Felix sure as hell wasn't a trial nightmare or any memory from Ace's past. If anything, it felt like a glimpse into the future—as absurd as that seemed.

Ace glanced at Felix who was still sound asleep next to him, only on a moth-eaten thin mattress instead of a cushy bed. The resemblance to the Felix in his dream was uncanny, even if that Felix had clearly been older, with his glasses and wrinkles and calm confidence.

This was still a relatively new development between them. Somewhere along the years of Ace’s friendship with the aloof architect, facades had crumbled and they'd sought comfort in each other from the horrors of the realm, eventually even falling into bed together.

They hadn't really talked about what it all meant—not that there was any need to. To Ace, it had been obvious that this was just a way to pass the time and make their existence here a little less guts and gore, a little more laughs and orgasms. With Felix's obligations in the real world and Ace's track record of bolting at the first sign of trouble, he knew full well that this wouldn’t last—not in the realm, and certainly not in the event that they managed to escape.

So why couldn’t he get the damn dream out of his head? 

It wasn’t like the idea of settling down was a novel one. Ace had actually tried to play house before, but because he was…well, himself, the attempts had always ended in disaster. It kind of took the romance out of a relationship when a surprise knock on his then-girlfriend’s door turned out to be a loan shark looking for Ace and not the flower delivery she’d been promised for their anniversary. It certainly wasn’t made better by the fact that Ace had spent the day gambling away in some dingy casino because he'd forgotten said anniversary. Again.

Ace snorted. If there was some sort of sliding scale for Relationship Material™, he was probably in the negative thousands just like his bank account. “You’re so charming,” and, “Nobody makes me laugh like you," only went so far when it came with a side of, “Why are the police here?” and, “You told me the money was for your grandmother’s funeral!” Not even Ace's silver tongue had managed to get him out of that one.

Except it would never come to that with Felix, Ace realized. Because after all these years trapped in hell together, Felix knew exactly how he operated. He knew Ace’s need for thrill-seeking and more often than not getting spectacularly killed for his stupid ideas, knew that Ace occasionally let his entire team die on hook because he found a shiny thing in a chest, and knew that Ace only joked and deflected when pushed about difficult topics.

But even knowing all that, Felix had still chosen to befriend Ace and invite him into his bed. He’d also held Ace's hand while Ace's guts spilled out of his stomach and they both knew he wasn't making it out of the trial. He'd listened without judgment to Ace's manic tales of running from the law, debts, and failed relationships alike. He'd stayed up late nights watching the campfire with Ace when neither of them could sleep, when Ace barely had the courage to whisper, “I don't know how much longer I can keep smiling for them,” while they watched over their sleeping friends.

Ace huffed a silent laugh and ran a hand through his hair. If Felix ever even considered keeping Ace around for more than a fling, Ace would seriously have to question the man's sanity.

…Unless Felix saw something there that Ace didn’t?

Like in the dream, Ace thought, then promptly huffed an irritated sigh. The stupid dream just kept coming back, like a particularly persistent boomerang Ace couldn’t get rid of no matter how hard he tried to throw it away.

Still, Ace had to admit that the dream had been nothing like the short-lived, disastrous romances that made up the majority of his life. On the contrary, dream-Ace and dream-Felix had clearly been together for years, with nothing pointing to Ace having gambled away all their shared assets or Felix spending every day regretting whatever lapse in judgment that had made him marry Ace in the first place.

In the dream, they’d been happy. Ace, and Felix, and the little girl who looked so much like Felix, smiling at Ace and acting like he was…

Like he was family.

Ace swallowed around a sudden lump in his throat. He’d only seen a glimpse of the life that wasn’t his, but—stupidly, impossibly—he missed it. He missed the simple intimacy of waking up together, the girl’s excited laughter, and the easy comfort between him and Felix that spoke of a bond deeper than anything Ace had experienced before.

There were some oddities in the dream, though, like fish-feeding as a family activity and the German language Ace didn’t speak a word of yet had somehow perfectly understood in the dream. Dream-Ace had even gone through grammar rules in his head and been very aware of his accent when he spoke, like he’d only been learning for a few years.

Perhaps ever since escaping the Entity and settling down in Germany.

Shit, what if it wasn’t just a dream? God knows stranger things had happened in the Entity’s realm than Ace’s sorry ass briefly harnessing some of Mikaela’s fortune telling mojo. After all, being chased by literal ghosts and demons and dying and being resurrected on the daily did have a tendency to make even skeptics like Ace more open to the possibility of the supernatural. Funny how that worked.

He looked at the sleeping Felix. Could it really be? Would they actually escape? Would Felix get to return home and meet his kid?

And where the hell did Ace come into that picture?

By all accounts, Felix and his girlfriend should just continue where they left off. Even if they didn't and Felix invited him to stay, Ace wasn't sure he'd accept; not if he'd just regained his freedom and the whole world was his oyster. Sure, Felix was a catch, but Ace was just some random con man he'd picked up in hell. The picket fence lifestyle was just not something he was capable of.

…Right?

Deep in his thoughts, Ace barely noticed Felix stirring. He did however notice when Felix startled as soon as he opened his eyes.

“Scheiße, you scared me,” Felix said before relaxing back against the mattress.

Ace cleared his throat and looked away, realizing he’d been looming over Felix and staring creepily at him sleeping. “Sorry,” he offered.

"It's alright," Felix said. He propped himself up on his elbows, thankfully seeming content to ignore Ace's floundering.

Now that Felix was awake and they were back to the regularly scheduled programming of Ace making an idiot of himself, whatever spell of ridiculousness that had fallen over Ace was fast disappearing. Because, really, dream-visions about Ace as a future househusband? The others would probably laugh for days if he told them.

"Trouble sleeping again?” Felix asked.

“Something like that,” Ace said. 

He racked his brain for a suitable joke or conversation starter, but his thoughts still seemed to be stuck in idyllic suburban family-mode. Maybe he should prod Felix a little to put the wishful thinking to rest once and for all.

“Say… did you have any pets back home?” Ace asked.

Felix tilted his head. “Hm? Why do you ask?”

“Just trying to make conversation,” Ace lied and forced a fake smile. “Maybe it'll be easier to go back to sleep if we focus on something else.”

“Alright,” Felix relented. He rolled over onto his side to face Ace. “But to answer your question, no. I'm not really a pet person.”

“How come?”

“I've always been much too busy to care for them," Felix explained. "And I never quite got the appeal. I don't really get attached to animals that way."

Ace nodded and swallowed down the sudden feeling that was definitely not disappointment. “That makes sense," he said.

And that, he supposed, was the nail in the coffin when it came to stupid dreams about marriage and family and pet carps. In retrospect, he didn’t know which thought was more absurd: that Ace had inexplicably gained magical future-telling abilities, or that Felix was secretly a…fish dad, or whatever.

“But I did enjoy the koi pond,” Felix added casually.

Ace’s head snapped back up. “What?”

“A koi pond,” Felix repeated. “My parents built a pond in the manor's garden and I liked looking at the fish ever since I was a child. After my father’s disappearance, it only felt natural to take over caring for the koi.” He smiled. “They're truly beautiful creatures. Some of them are even older than me, by now.”

Ace’s thoughts were still reeling. “You…you have koi fish?” he questioned.

Felix smiled sheepishly. “Yes, it's…I don't usually tell people about it. It's a little unconventional, I know.”

Yeah, well, unconventional seemed to be the theme of the day, Ace thought somewhat hysterically.

“What about you?” Felix asked while Ace was busy trying not to freak out. “Did you have any pets?”

“Huh?” Ace said, before remembering that Felix thought they were just getting to know each other better. “No, I—uh, I fed some stray cats when I was a kid, but we couldn't really afford a pet and then I was always on the move after that.”

Something in Felix’s expression softened, making him resemble dream-Felix even more.

“I'm sorry,” Felix said.

“It's nothing. But, those fish of yours,” Ace eagerly continued. “Did you name them?”

“Ah.” Felix smiled bashfully. “My parents named most of them—Siegfried, Barbara and Agnes.”

Ace deflated a little from disappointment-slash-relief and barely even acknowledged the old-fashioned and… frankly, pretty awful names.

“But, I, ehm,” Felix continued. “At ten, I got my own koi and…I said it was after Da Vinci, but I really liked the—the ninja turtle cartoon at the time, and, well…”

Ace's eyes went wide. “Leonardo?”

Felix chuckled. “Yes.”

Okay. Okay, no need to panic: Ace had just somehow guessed that Felix had fish back home and one of their names. So what? There were several, rational explanations for that; explanations that didn’t involve the paranormal or any wedding rings in his future.

Felix could have told him about the fish before and they both forgot. Ace could have heard about it from Élodie. Maybe the Entity dug around in Felix's memories and somehow planted the idea in Ace's head?

“Ace?” Felix said, his smile replaced with a frown. “You look pale.”

“Yeah, I…” Ace stammered. “Maybe I should lie down a bit.”

Ace lowered himself onto the mattress with trembling arms. Felix, bless him, reached over and touched his forehead to feel Ace’s temperature.

“I'm not sick, I promise," Ace said, plastering a grin on his face. “Just a little shell-shocked from this dream I had.”

…And having visions of the future and going on a massive self-discovery journey. In the span of thirty minutes or so. He had the right to be a little shaken, damnit.

Felix hesitated, then asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Yes, Ace wanted to say, please tell me I'm not going crazy.

“Not really,” Ace lied.

Felix nodded, not pushing it. Something warm and awfully similar to the feeling in the dream spread through Ace’s chest and for a moment, he wanted to take it back and tell Felix everything—

But, god, Ace couldn't do that to him. Even if Felix would probably find the idea of them growing old together suitably absurd and they could share a laugh over it, Ace couldn't give him false hope that they'd escape. That Felix would get to see his kid grow up.

“Do you know if your kid is a boy or a girl?” Ace asked.

Felix flinched, clearly caught off guard by the question—a normal reaction to someone rudely asking about one of his biggest traumas, really—so Ace quickly backpedaled.

“Sorry, we don't have to talk about it,” Ace rushed to add.

"No, it's…" Felix hesitated. "I didn't think you cared," he admitted.

Ace bit his lip to stop himself from blurting out that before today, he hadn't spared the topic much thought. Felix's real life was out there, with his career and mansion and nuclear family, too pure for someone like Ace to stain with the shitshow that had been his life.

"I have my moments, you know,'' Ace said with a smirk.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to imply…'' Felix sighed and shook his head. "It was still too early to determine the child's gender when—when I was taken," Felix said, his eyes downcast. "I always thought I wanted a boy, but when I realized it was actually happening…I knew I would love the child no matter what."

Felix looked sadly at the ground and Ace felt like an absolute asshole for poking at that wound. 

Ace nudged Felix with his elbow. "You'd love the kid even if they came out looking like one of your carps, huh?" he teased.

Felix let out a surprised huff of laughter. "Especially then, I think."

Ace smiled at that and to his delight, Felix did too. It was a relief that despite the weird coincidence with the fish, Ace hadn't fortune told Felix's kid or whatever.

"We… actually had some names planned out," Felix said.

Ace hummed. "Yeah?"

"Janos, for a boy. I… insisted rather stubbornly." Felix chuckled.

Ace smiled, remembering all the times Felix had talked so fondly about his dad. "I don't blame you," he said. "And for a girl?"

"We had several options," Felix said. "Amelia, Cassandra, Matilda…"

Ace listened and amicably nodded along. None of those names were even remotely close to what his subconsciousness had come up with while he slept—which was to be expected.

“But then at the latest ultrasound, there was this nurse,” Felix said. “She was great. My girlfriend and I were bickering about names again during the procedure, and the nurse just laughed along, before saying we should name the child after her, and… well. It started as a joke but then it stuck.”

“That’s cute,” Ace said. “What was her name?”

Felix smiled, looking into the distance. “Klara.”

The air left Ace’s lungs in a rush and the world spun even though he was lying down. That one simple word was like a punch in the gut.

This went way beyond coincidence. Ace knew that the girl with the sparkling blue eyes and childish grin was out there waiting for her dad to come home. He knew that Felix would be a fantastic father and love her more than anything else in the world.

And he knew that, for some reason, Felix would allow Ace into that picture and trust him with the most important thing in his life.

“You're shivering,” Felix said. “Are you cold?”

“Yeah,” Ace reflexively lied. 

If his stomach dropping and his entire worldview turning upside down counted as cold, then, yes, he was freezing.

"Come here," Felix said, gently grabbing Ace's shoulder.

Ace allowed Felix to pull him closer and drape a threadbare blanket over them. They settled with Ace's back against Felix's chest, the German's larger frame enveloping Ace's still-trembling body as Felix wrapped an arm around him, and… 

And it was actually really, really nice.

Ace didn't know whether it was the dream awakening these feelings or if he'd just never admitted it to himself before, but he'd never felt as safe as he did right here. Felix never smothered him with expectations or asked for anything Ace wasn't willing to give. Just as Felix could drop his play-act around Ace and freely gush about his beloved carps or open up about the fucked-up cult shit that went down in the Imperiatti, Ace didn't have to censor the dark parts of his past or pretend that he'd been anything but a lying, scamming addict for most of his life.

And that kind of comfort, that level of trust? Ace was an absolute idiot for not appreciating it earlier.

It was funny how not that long ago, the idea of even being held by Felix like this—gently, just because Felix cared—would have sent Ace running for the hills. But now, it almost felt like coming home.

"Is this alright?" Felix murmured against Ace's neck.

Ace had stopped shivering ages ago and he had no illusions that Felix hadn't seen through his lie about being cold. Ace allowed himself to relax into the embrace, knowing that he didn't need to bother with excuses. 

Ace placed his hand over Felix's where it rested on his chest. "This is perfect," Ace said.

Felix let out a soft hum. Before long, his body went slack with sleep, still curled protectively around Ace's.

But Ace stayed wide awake, a new determination filling him. Felix had to go home—to his little girl, to his family home, and to his silly fish. Even if things turned out differently than in his vision and Ace wouldn't be in the picture when the time came, he'd do his damndest to fight for the future he knew they could have. 

The hope that had been slowly dwindling with every failed trial and each passing year spent trapped in this hell was now returning to Ace full force.

Because they were getting out of here. And they were doing it together.

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Translations: Hab ich dir nicht schon tausend Mal gesagt, dass du klopfen sollst? - Haven’t I told you a thousand times to knock? Aber es ist schon neun Uhr - It’s almost nine o’clock Willste ein paar Fette Karpfen mit mir füttern? - Wanna feed some fat carps with me? Na los - Let’s go