#probably have a staring contest with Fluffy every hour of the day

[superblysubpar]

Hello!! 🥰 For your 12 days of Christmas, could I suggest one with Steve where he and reader bake some christmas cookies and make some hot cocoa to eat/drink while they watch some Christmas movies? I’m indecisive so it could be fluff, angst, or smut! I was thinking maybe Rudolph or Frosty the Snowman could work for the song since they’re Christmas movies but it’s up to you! Thank you!! ❤️🎄

The playlist is linked at the end of the story. Let me know what you think, any interaction is so appreciated and loved!  Thank you so much for participating in this and following along, I had so much fun! Here's the masterlist

Summary: Your best friend Steve Harrington and you have a day full of Christmas activities. Your teasing relationship leads to some fluffy smutty fun. | Post contains smut 18+ minors DNI, handjob/fingering foreplay, finger sucking, use of pet names honey and baby, teasing Steve, unprotected PIV intercourse/cream pie, coming so fast you'll get whiplash

A/N: I apologize for getting this out so late and I appreciate the patience, I hope it was worth the wait! I'm also sorry not sorry, but this got away from me and strayed a little from the prompt lol. We started with lonely Steve and we're ending with smutty Steve.

3.2k words

Day 12 | Track 12: "What Christmas Means to Me" by Stevie Wonder

Steve and you had spent the last several holiday breaks together. A tradition you were both grateful for, but saddened by your need for it. Determined to make this the best one yet after being away from each other while away at school, you had booked and planned the whole day.

Ice skating and sledding, baking, gift exchanging, hot cocoa drinking, and a gingerbread decorating contest. As you waited for the gingerbread to cool, you watched every holiday movie you could find.

Snuggled up on the couch, both of you in your comfiest sweats, you smile over the rim of your mug as you watch your best friend watch Frosty the Snowman for the first time.

"But...but you'll melt."

"That's okay."

And then he brushes his fingers down his nose and pinches, blinking his eyes before reaching for his own mug and you hold out your arm stopping him with a gasp.

He looks anywhere but you and your giddy laughter and you rub at his shoulder, "Steve, if you want to cry, you can, it's okay."

He jabs at and tickles your side, shoving a throw pillow in your face, "Oh, shut up!"

When Santa finds Karen crying at the puddle that was once Frosty, Steve sniffles and you turn to him ready to laugh again but he's too sweet looking, too fragile even for you to tease and break.

He's staring down at his hot cocoa, lip pulled in and biting so hard he'll probably draw blood and you start to think about all the kids Steve would melt for too if he had to - without even giving it a second thought.

You poke his cheek as you whisper, "You're so sweet Steve."

He clears his throat, patting his thighs, "I'm not sweet. I'm a man. A tough man. Who needs more marshmallows for his hot cocoa."

Walking out of the room, your laughter is not far behind as you follow him into the kitchen, pressing your fingers to the edges of all of the gingerbread cutouts you made earlier, "Oo these are done! Ready to be demolished in the most intense gingerbread house competition of your life Harrington?"

He smirks, flicking your forehead and grabbing your hand, "Pretty cocky for a girl who messed up the batter..." he spins you away from him as he digs, "Twice."

You wave your hand at him, "Decorating is different!"

Or so you thought.

An hour later, it looks like a tube of toothpaste burst over your gingerbread house and you watch Steve press a gum drop to his perfect one while humming to the music playing softly from the radio.

Steve's hair flops every which way, sleeves rolled to his elbows, and his tongue pokes out as he pipes more frosting roof tiles. His eyebrows furrowed together as he places licorice pieces on the edge.

He glances up to catch you staring and reaches for his mug of hot cocoa, "What?"

You tap your knuckles on the counter and shrug, "I think watching you decorate a gingerbread house is the cutest fucking thing I've ever seen. You're so intense about it."

He snorts into his hot cocoa, whipped cream on his nose, and spraying everywhere, a few flecks landing on your house.

"Steve!"

He laughs, mocking your tone and making his voice falsetto, “Steve!” gesturing to your monstrosity and returning to his normal voice, "Oh, I'm sorry I ruined your...what the hell is that even supposed to be?"

You turn to him, hands on your hips, ready to give him an earful when his smile and whipped cream covered nose distracts you.

You tap your own nose and he dips his finger into your mug, plopping a dollop on it.

You laugh and try to scold him again, "Steve!"

"I'm sorry, was that not what you wanted me to do? Did you want it," a spoon full of whipped cream landing on the top of your head with a wet smack, "Here?"

He's grinning as you shake your head slowly, hand diving into the frosting next to you, you slide it over his check and down his neck with a smug smirk on your face.

An all out war now, both of you grabbing any messy material you can find, flinging and swiping it on each other until he gets you with both hands, pressing whipped cream into your cheeks with a loud belly laugh.

You snort through the whipped cream covering your face, wiping it from your eyes, breathless through your laughter as you double over, arms raised in surrender, "Okay I give! I give!"

He sticks his hand out and you shake it as he bows a little, "Better luck next time honey."

Steve's called you honey before, you're aware of his flirtatious natural state. But something about the air in the room, buzzing from your laughter and close bodies, hand still in yours has both of your laughter fading quickly into a silence that seems to pulse around you at the pet name this time.

You're not sure who does it first, but you're both leaning, closer and closer, Steve's eyes on yours, bouncing down to your lips and closing as his nose brushes yours.

You let your own eyes flutter shut, heart hammering in your chest, hand sliding towards his on the messy counter, as your lips press together.

Both of you a little unsure if the other was going to pull away, you almost rest there, waiting. When it appears neither of you wants it to end, his hand slides over your jaw and you grip at his waist, your lips exploring each other messily and greedy.

Frosting and whipped cream everywhere as you boldly glide your tongue along his bottom lip and he moans into your parted mouth as his hand cradles your jaw, pulling it more open for him.

You know you're the first one to initiate becoming shirtless, fingers tugging Steve's shirt over his head. He's not shy to follow your lead, pulling yours off and pressing a frosting covered hand to your chest. He slips your bra straps off your shoulders slowly, fingers grazing down your skin and back up. He lets them trail down your spine, sending a shiver through you as he unclasps the garment, flinging it somewhere neither of you care about.

He pulls away from your mouth, whispering as his fingers glide over your collarbone and down, eyes roaming over your body like he'd never seen something so breath taking, "Fuck, you're gorgeous baby."

Standing in front of your best friend, half naked and covered in frosting was something you'd have laughed at moments ago - yeah right that would happen. But you'd be lying if you said you didn't imagine this moment and Steve saying those words to you before.

Shying under his gaze you start to cover yourself and he grabs your waist, pushing your arms away and ducking his head to meet yours. His hazel eyes golden and stark against the white frosting covering part of his face still. 

His fingers pull your jaw up, thumb on your chin, "We can stop if you-"

You clutch him to you tighter, practically shouting, "No!"

And then bury your face in his chest, hiding your embarrassment as you feel him laughing under your forehead. 

You squeeze around his waist, "I mean, no, I'd like to keep going...if you wanna keep going?"

Your fingers gliding over his lower back he grabs at your hips, lifting you to the counter and kissing down and back up your neck, mumbling into your skin, "Yeah, I wanna keep going."

He licks frosting from your jaw, a grin on his face before bending down and pulling one of your nipples into his mouth, his large palm kneading your other breast as you gasp.

Fingers falling to his hair, you tug slightly and pull a moan from him, sending a vibration through your body.

You pant as he switches sides, a little of your confidence returning, "Fuck, okay, then take off your pants Harrington."

He releases your nipple with a pop, kissing up your chest, your neck, his lips on the shell of your ear as a finger tugs your waistband, pulling you to him sharply, "Not if you're not gonna ask me nicely honey."

Steve's lips move to just under your ear, parting slightly and leaving a damp and warm spot before his mouth sucks the skin until your whole body is on fire. Putty in his hands as you cling to him, gasping at the small sting of his teeth as you whine, "Please, Steve."

His smile against your neck and his fingers tightening on your waist have you delirious, he has a power over you and you don't care to get it back, the teasing relationship one sided suddenly. You just want Steve and you'll do whatever he asks. 

His nose nudges the dip where your neck meets your shoulders, his chest pushing against yours as your legs wrap around his waist like that's where they’ve always belonged.

"Please what pretty gir-fuck!" His hands had gone to press to the counter and went straight through his gingerbread house.

Pulling away from him, you have to stifle the giggle at his look of distraught at seeing the broken house.

To pull him back to what was happening, you pull the frosting covered hand up to your lips, pulling two fingers into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you suck, tongue swirling around them.

You glance up at him through fluttering eyelashes, his cheeks tinged pink and his mouth parted slightly, his golden eyes now taken over by dark pupils as he zeros in on your mouth. Maybe Steve was just as gone for you as you were for him.

You pull his fingers from your mouth, licking his thumb free of a dab of frosting as well before lacing your fingers with his and resting them on your thigh, "Please take off your pants Steve."

He nods, pushing his sweats and boxers down in one motion and you have to hold in your gasp. You knew he had a lot going on in the sex department, the joys of growing up with King Steve as your best friend, but you were not expecting that.

Wrapping your hand around his length and tugging gently like you handle dicks this size all the time, Steve almost crumples to the ground, eyes closing as his forehead falls against yours. He pulls his lip in, biting down softly as your hand speeds up, thumb swiping over his already leaking tip and pulling it down the entire length and back up.

Steve's breath hitches, a small whine escaping the back of his throat and he starts to tug at your sweats, gingerbread pieces crunching around you and you start to laugh, releasing him and pressing your hands to his chest, "Wait, wait - you have no idea how much I wanna do this, but I'd prefer not to get frosting and gingerbread shoved in places I really don't want it."

Steve grins and before you can even realize what's happening, he grabs under your thighs and pulls you around his waist, heading towards the stairs.

You grin at the mirror in the foyer, shoving your face in his neck as he nudges your temple, pausing, "What is so funny now?"

You giggle into his neck before pulling back, "You have a cute butt."

He turns to see the reflection and groans through a smile trying to escape and he pulls you closer, "I don't have a cute butt. I have a manly butt. A-"

You interrupt him with your lips, both of you smiling around the kiss as he continues up the stairs and fumbles into his room.

Steve sits on the bed and as you climb off, pushing your sweats and panties down, his eyes take in your body and a small smile escapes him this time, "You have a cute butt too."

You laugh and crawl onto the bed, straddling his thighs as he leans up against the headboard.

His face has fallen more serious, a little lovestruck. He's got those eyes that you've seen him look at other girls with and you never dreamed they'd be looking at you the same way - like you were the best thing to ever happen to him, a work of art, a prized possession, his. 

His fingers reach forward, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear, he lets his fingertips trail down your neck, your chest and sides, down the outside of your thighs. As he's pulling them back up the inside of one thigh, his other hand tangles in the hair at the nape of your neck, pulling you closer until your lips are molding around his as his fingers brush through your soaking folds.

He sighs into your parted lips, dragging his fingers up through your slick. As his fingers grind small figure eights into your swollen clit you pull away from his mouth, eyelids squeezing shut as a gasp falls out of you.

He continues to rub the sensitive bead slowly, his nose nudging against yours, his breath fanning over your lips as you let soft whines escape you.

You can feel his smile grazing over your lips as his fingers push back through your slick, a finger teasing your entrance as you wrap your arms around him, forearms resting on his shoulders and foreheads pressing together.

Steve pushes a finger into your entrance and whispers against your lips, "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this."

You nod, noses bumping together, breath hitching as he dips a second finger into you, "Me too, Steve."

He laughs a little as he swirls his fingers and curves them towards himself and you rotate your hips against his hand, a quiet moan falling from you as he kisses your lips once before teasing, "Really? Cause you're not wet at all."

You flick his shoulder but you're too caught up in the way his fingers are pumping into you slowly to think of a witty retort. Your body craving more from him and your fingertips dig into his shoulders, "Steve, I need you inside of me-"

He kisses your jaw, smiling as he pumps his fingers faster, pressing his thumb into your swollen bead causing you to jolt forward and clutch him tighter as he whispers into your ear, "I am inside you baby."

You groan, circling your hips down, body buzzing from the heat of his breath on your neck and you try to force your eyelids open, to pull away from him, "Stop teasing me or I'll-"

Steve pulls his fingers from you abruptly, "You'll what?" He nudges his nose against yours and your gaze falls to where he's wiping all of your slick onto his length, pumping himself in his palm a few times as his other hand grabs your hip and pulls you closer.

Mesmerized by how he swipes his tip through your folds and teases your entrance, you pull your lip in between your teeth as you watch your two bodies meet but not quite. You almost forgot he asked a question, focused on the friction of his length sliding through your puffy and dripping lips as his hand guides your hips back and forth against him.

His hand pulls your chin up, blown out eyes almost black, his hair messed up, shining lips that twitch as he raises his eyebrows at you, waiting for an answer.

Your body is buzzing and warm and all you can think about is how he's right there, and he won't let you have it, your fingers scrape down his chest and you whisper, "What?"

He chuckles, grinning wider and he kisses your nose, "You're so cute baby, so cock drunk already, you can't remember a thing, huh?"

He's not wrong, you honest to god are starting to forget your name, every time his tip nudges your entrance on a glide through you, you feel a brain cell disappearing and so you just nod.

He presses a few kisses to your neck, before he's at your ear again, arms wrapping around your back as he whispers, "Ready?"

You're frustrated now, desprate and you whine and smack his shoulder like a toddler throwing a tantrum, "Fuck, Steve, if you don't-"

He pushes into you and you gasp, clutching at his shoulders as he moans into your ear, goosebumps erupting over both of your bodies. Your fingers move to the back of his head, carding through his hair as he pushes up into you further.

You're nodding, encouraging him to go deeper, tugging on his hair and you can't believe how good it feels to be full of Steve.

His breath hitches in your ear as you roll your hips down experimentally and you smirk, now it was your turn.

Placing your palms on his headboard, you start to bounce your body, circling your hips and pumping on him faster than he anticipated.

His fingertips dig into your back, his hips trying to meet you and when the headboard bangs into the wall he practically melts underneath you. You make it hit the wall again and he whimpers into your ear and it goes straight to your center, stomach tightening in a familiar coil, you're going to finish quicker than you want to.

You move faster, making the headboard hit the wall repeatedly and his bruising grip on your back moves to your hips and only gets tighter as he tries to meet you with his own thrusts.

You're both moaning and sighing, lips crashing into each other now, sloppy and wet and when he slides his fingers in between your bodies, your walls start to tighten around him.

"Fuck, Steve, don't stop-"

Your body giving into the orgasm, you feel yourself slowing down and he picks up the slack, thrusting up into you harder and faster, hitting that spongy spot deep inside as you scream his name against his lips. He fills you with his own orgasm, both of you panting into each other as your bodies slow down.

Glistening chests pressing together, hearts hammering so fast against each other's skin like they're trying to claw out of your body and into the other's. You dip your head into his neck, licking the salty and sweet skin that's a mixture of his sweat and lingering frosting before placing a kiss under his ear and he shivers underneath you.

He's panting, breathless and he groans, "Jesus, is my nose bleeding? That was...that was..."

You laugh at his inability to form a sentence kissing his jaw and pulling away before kissing his nose - that isn't bleeding, "You're so dramatic."

His hands move to cradle your jaw, thumbs brushing over your cheeks as you both let your eyes dance over the other's face, taking in one another in a new way. 

His eyes are back to that sort of golden color that seems to be made just for melting you and kisses your forehead, "Sorry I was teasing you."

You laugh and shake your head, "If we didn't tease each other, I don't think this would work. Someone's gotta put you in your place," you play with the hair at the nape of his neck, "And if I can dish it out, I gotta be able to take it, right?"

He raises his hand for a high five, dopey grin plastered to his face, "Oh, you took it alright."

You roll your eyes but slap his hand and he catches it, pulling it to his mouth and kissing your palm and your wrist before whispering, "Merry Christmas honey."

You bump your nose to his, "Merry Christmas Steve."

Twelve Days of Christmas Playlist:

tagging my lovely ladies (thank you @boomhauer for all the ideas getting me unstuck for this one!): @boomhauer @loveshotzz @myobmaya @sweetsweetjellybean

[amostfoolishgold]

So uhh @pacificwaternymph I may have gotten a little carried away thinking about our witches and I wrote about their meeting. I simply think it's very funny if w!Pyrite is usually all calm and collected and maybe slightly sinister but absolutely ruined that impression in her first interaction with Delilah lmao

(under a readmore bc it's a bit of a Long Boi)

There's not much about her relationship with Delilah that Pyrite would change but, if pressed, she would probably choose the circumstance of their meeting. Pyrite, like so many witches, had been following the competition to become supreme witch. Of course she had, witches tend to be a scattered bunch and celestial witches like herself can be scattered a good deal further than most, but the supreme witch would always be a big deal. The competition was even being broadcast this time around! The remaining handful of the previous supreme witch's staff who were running the thing all had little sprites following each of the contestants fairly constantly and displaying what they saw onto screens across half the country. That did still mean that in order to be watching a screen you had to either hijack the broadcast or be in that half of the country. So Pyrite was among the many witches who had flooded into the cities and towns and villages that surrounded the competition venue. She'd even gotten there early enough to snag a decent room in probably the closest village. Prophetic powers do pay off sometimes and practically every celestial witch who lucked into prophecy had gotten the one about the supreme witch's death. It was really just a matter of tugging on the strings of fate herself to get her nicely situated to watch the competition play out. Admittedly when she'd prophesized she'd "see the competition up close and personal" she was kind of hoping fate would come down on the nice side of that wiggle room and she'd get an invite, and she's still holding out hope that she'll run into one of the contestants during one of the rounds, but she's pretty sure she met a potion witch the other day paying a ridiculous rate to stay in someone's broom closet for the duration of the competition, so she can't complain too much about the room in the Harepelt inn.

It was, in fact, in said inn that she met Delilah. Pyrite had her head face down on one of the smaller tables in the main room, trying to convince herself that having a meal would help with the headache she currently had. It wouldn't, but she also hadn't eaten in a while so she should anyway. She's a fan of Cleo, she really is, the time witch seems the most…competent of the contestants and seems like she'd make a good supreme witch. Plus Pyrite's a massive lesbian so. However, watching her live inevitably gives Pyrite a massive headache and she never fucking learns. Thus, head on table.

And then she feels the frustration and misery fade into a dull echo of themselves, replaced with a subtle tranquillity that she maybe wouldn't notice if she hadn't been sat here wallowing in it for the past hour or so. She jolts upright which, ow, is a mistake, the headache is very much still present and with the sudden movement it all comes back full force. She squints at the handful of people arrayed around the room until she spots a witch at the bar staring intently at her plate of food.

"You!"

Ok yeah she really shouldn't have shouted, there's quite a few people starting at her. The witch at the bar is pointedly not. Pyrite's chair makes a truly awful scraping noise as she stands up and her boots click against the stone floor which isn't helping with the headache even slightly.

"What was that?"

The witch turns to face her with a wince. Under other circumstances, Pyrite might note her fluffy blonde ponytails or her tan skin with a pretty smattering of freckles or her kind eyes or maybe even the way her off-the-shoulder blouse exposes even more freckles dusted across her shoulders. However, in the here and now, all Pyrite can think about is maybe not feeling quite so shit in the next five minutes.

"Honestly? I thought you were having a nightmare. Thought I could help without…well without you knowing."

"Excellent, please do it again."

The witch visibly startles.

"What?"

"I have a very terrible headache from receiving far too many conflicting prophecies because I'm an idiot who keeps watching Cleo's broadcasts. If you have the power to make that suck less please use it."

The witch makes a face that Pyrite cannot even begin to parse, but given the sense of peace returns Pyrite assumes she's working her magic. It takes everything in her not to slump against the bar in relief, instead she opts for a sigh.

"That's so much better." She freezes. "Oh fuck that was just. Incredibly rude of me. I'm Pyrite, celestial witch by trade, and incredibly grateful for the…whatever magic you're doing."

She extends a hand and, after a moment's hesitation, the other witch takes it.

"Delilah, empathetic witch. It's…not a problem."

[ficsforeren]

Kana how would Rockstar eren react if reader adopted a shit ton of pets? Like, the house if just basically a free-range zoo and he can't seem to spend time with them bc their busy doing their pet parent things. Bonus is that the pets don't like him bc he steals attention away from them so they get really possessive if he tries to come near reader when the dogs? Cats? BIRDS?? Are with them. Bonus Bonus is that they hog the attention of the kids too

LMAOOOO well i mean i don't think reader would do something that makes him feel uncomfortable, so ofc if she wants to have a shit ton of pets, she'll talk to him about it first and i know eren has a soft spot for her too so he'll probably be like "okay if that's what makes you happy" but she can tell he's not 100% on board with it so she'll probably just adopt like 3 dogs or something. 3 dogs that are VERY spoiled and they follow her everywhere she goes and yes they don't like eren lol watch my man become unreasonably jealous and grumpy because "Fluffy gets to lick your face in public but I can't? That sounds fair!"

[forthehpfanboys]

Christmas Break

Pair: Draco Malfoy x Reader; he/him.

Summary: You liked Winter Break Draco. Unfortunately, he was replaced by Usual Dick Bag Draco who becomes ruthless. At least Harry is there to make you feel better.

Warnings: SMUT (MDI), jealousy sex, dirty talk, swearing, spanking, short mention of slapping and hair pulling, sir kink and degrading a tad- fluffy ending tho. I may have taken the kinks too far but ya know-

Notes: Requested by @the-offical-yn​, who I must apologize too. A lot of my stories got away from me so I’m very sorry this is late- but um- enjoy getting railed by Draco guys! Yo, I made a shit plot for this. I’m so sorry if it’s baaddd.

~DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE~

-

For years, he had this twisted mind against anyone not a pure-blood or a Slytherin. He had zero shame with cussing out Gryffindor's, spitting at Ravenclaw’s during quidditch games and tripping Hufflepuff's. But, suddenly, just before Christmas break, he changed and there was nothing blunt about it. He would help Ravenclaw first years pick up their books if they stumbled on the fake steps on the moving staircases, tutor third year Hufflepuff's in Herbology after hours and helped a few Gryffindor students fix their potions.

Draco changed faster than water turns to ice in a freezer. It was almost alarming. Even Snape seemed to be concerned, probably more than others. The greasy git kept yelling at Gryffindor's (mostly the Golden Trio [mostly Harry]) about what would happen when he found out who jinxed Malfoy. You couldn’t pinpoint exactly when he changed, but everyone else could. To the day, infact.

It was just a few days before October, when it started. Draco was strutting down the halls, using Crabbe and Goyle as shields from the dozens of students who walked by him. They stood at his sides, knocking students out of the way, acting like Draco owned this bubble of space as they walked, but somehow, you slipped through. You were crossing in front of him, trying to hurry to class and ended up tripping over your own feet.

Your instincts kicked in and you tried to catch yourself, but instead you fumbled right into Draco, landing heavily against his side. He scoffed, shoving you off and getting ready to cuss you out when you began to apologize (even if you don’t like him) and gather your things off the floor. With your head tilted down you didn’t notice the Slytherin staring at you like you were a puppy. When you gathered your things, you scurried off, apologizing to more students as you went by.

Apparently, that day, he saw you tutoring a whole table of students, all houses included, and you were being so nice to them, so kind and your voice was soft and he heard you say “Hey, no! It’s ok! There is no such thing as a dumb question, ask away”. He had this urge in his chest to just be different, to be someone you would want to be around and be a friend, maybe even be more. It made him feel sick.

It took about a week to get your attention, then a quick growing friendship blossomed. Your relationship with Draco changed- just like he had. It changed from funny jokes, sassy remarks and late night games of exploding snaps to flirting contests, long hugs and what could be considered dates. 

By December, you and Draco were dating without the official titles. Everyday, you two were growing closer and the relationship was growing more rock solid with every passing event. Soon enough, winter break was coming around and everyone was genuinely surprised when they saw the blonde Slytherin strutting through the halls during Christmas break. Usually, the pureblood went home to spend the holidays in a cabin in a warmer climate with his family.

And it was weird for everyone to see him not bragging and tripping students and spitting at kids. But for you? It was a blissful few weeks. Even the Golden Trio got a break. They were some of your closer friends, so Draco gave them a bigger break. The blonde even went as far as helping Harry during potions. It was terrifying.

Until Christmas break was passing and Draco went through another change, which was what you were going to confront him about. 

"Malfoy!" You found him out in the courtyard, a teary-eyed (y/h) first year trailing behind you. The poor kid was shaking with fear and let out a sniffle. "You have some very good explaining to do!"

The blonde looked from Goyle to you, his eyes slowly dragging down your form before darting back up to your flaming eyes. His smile had dropped and was now replaced with a sharp frown. His nose scrunched up, his eyebrows furrowed and his arms crisscrossed over his chest.

“I don’t have to explain anything to the likes of you.” He sneered. He looked over your shoulder and locked eyes with the first year, who scooted over to hide himself better.  He made a scoff and turned back to Goyle, shaking his head while snorting. “Look at this- he’s tryin’ to be a hero.” As if on a cue, his little posse of Slytherins broke out into laughter, forcing your face to heat up from humiliation.

“Seriously? Are you fucking five?” You called over the idiots laughter, which morphed into pathetic ‘ooh’s. “Draco, stop being a child and a douchebag and just apologize to the first year.”

“Why should I?” Draco stepped closer to you. His eyes, stance and voice all held a challenging undertone. He moved some blonde hair out of his face, but you didn’t miss how his eyes flicked down to your lips.

“Because you called him a mud-blood for bumping into you. Grow a pair, gain some manners and apologize to him.” You crossed your arms over your chest, putting on your best angry face. If Draco was pulling a prank, you were going to punch him, without hesitation. And how the hell did an asshole like this become a prefect??

“Oh, your right, I definitely should apologize when the kid bumped into me. But I think I have a better idea.” He brought a finger to his lips, tapping it in mock thought. Sarcasm and sass was radiating from him and it only served to piss you off more. “How about you fuck off and leave me alone, (L/n).” He smirked, turning to his posse and symboling them to leave with him for a dramatic exit. You took a deep breath, your hands balling at your sides. 

“I’m sorry for him.” You turned around and put a hand on the kids back and gave him a soft push back toward the castle. “Go tell the head of the house, ok? I’m gonna keep talking to him.” When he nodded and began to walk out of the courtyard, you hurried in the direction Draco left in. You found him heading across the bridge, in the middle of his group, who were effectively taking up the whole span of the bridge. His laughter echoed in the hollow build, which only had your blood boiling worse.

So, you called his name again, effectively getting his attention. He turned so fast you thought his head would’ve spun all the way around like an owl. You stared into his now burning eyes, walking closer to him. You could feel the adrenaline mixing with rage in your veins. You weren’t thinking straight, but you didn’t care. 

“Wanna explain why you're being an ass all of a sudden or are you just gonna insult me and strut off with your orgy party?” You glared at him, ignoring his irritated sneer. It was making your face red (or whatever hue, I wanna be as inclusive as possible) with anger.

“I don’t have to tell you a thing.” Draco was, naturally, turning defensive, even if he knew deep down how he was acting was wrong. Honestly, you couldn’t tell if he knew he was actually being an ass or not.

“Ok. I get it. You stay the fuck here with your friends and I’ll just leave you alone then. Merlin, why did I think you’d change?” Your face showed disappointment before contouring back to anger and frustration and aggression. You ran your tongue over your teeth, a frown etching across your lips. “My mistake.” You turned around, still going off pure adrenaline. You felt a hand grasp your wrist and immediately tugged it free with all of your strength. “No, I really don’t wanna hear it, fuck off.”

You didn’t look back, and you certainly didn’t hear him say anything. Of course it hurt, but you didn’t care at the moment. Your heart was thumping in your chest and all you felt was anger. He had the audacity to befriend you, say he really liked you for fucks sake, and then do a complete 180. You were grateful it was the weekend so you didn’t have to sit next to him in class.

You stomped through the snow, hurrying across the school grounds to the library (can you tell I have no idea what Hogwarts layout is?). You pushed open the doors and decided to basically hide yourself in an empty corner to try to cool down. After pulling the seat out, you sat down, slouching and resting your forehead on the table. You want to know what happened, why it happened

Was it his dad? Was it his friends? Was he jinxed or something? You let out a sigh of frustration. The idea of his dad convincing him to start treating people like trash again brought your anger back. You rolled your neck and ran your hands through it.

Pulling your wand out of your pocket, you waved it casually, summoning a book from one of the carts beside the isles. You didn't care what it was. You just wanted a distraction. 

Luckily, for you, it didn't take long to get distracted. A few pages and more than a few dreadful minutes into your "reading", someone sat across from you. You looked over the rim of the book to see a smiling Gryffindor with big, round glasses slipping down his nose. He gave an awkward greeting while pushing his glasses back up. 

"Hi to you too, Harry. This is a pleasant surprise. What can I do for you?" You smiled, shutting the book and crossing your arms over it.

"Well, I just heard about the Draco fiasco that took place a few hours ago-" had it really been hours? "-and I wanted to make sure you were OK." Harry scooted closer to the table, his cheeks a soft pink.

"I'm fine, man. You don't gotta stress about me." You stretched your arms over your head while leaning back in your chair. You were trying to give the illusion of calmness and it was sorta working.

"Oh, good! I'm- I'm glad you're ok!" He began to fiddle with his fingers, digging at the nails nervously. "Because I also wanted to ask.. Um.. If you are free? Like this weekend? To hang out?" His green eyes barely met yours and, instead, opted for staring right over your shoulder. 

"Oh, I'm n-"

"He's not free, Potter. We have plans covering every minute of the weekend. Scram."

Your smile faded as Draco's voice filled the small corner. You looked up, immediately catching his stern gaze. He was leaning against the end of a bookshelf, his arms crossed and one foot crossed over the other. He was clearly chewing on his tongue, not that he'd admit it. You gave him a glare, your arms crossing over your chest. 

"But, Draco. I thought I canceled our plans." Your voice was condescending and it only fueled his anger. Harry, noting the weird tension, ducked out of there quickly, swerving around Draco and speed walking to a safer, less awkward part of the library. 

"What the fuck are you doing?" The blonde hissed while taking long steps over to the table. He was still staring you right in the eyes. Draco moved the chair Potter was sitting in and put his hands flat against the table. He made eye contact with him. 

"Why should it matter to you? I thought I was just being a selfish hero." You narrowed your eyes at him, daring him to make a move. You could feel the anger returning from earlier.

"I never said selfish. Why are you making this so complicated? I have a reputation to withhold, (Y/n)." His eyes softened a bit. He looked down at the polished wood before looking at you again. Draco tried to give you a smile, but you didn’t return it; you just tapped your fingers against the table top.

"I don't give a rats ass about your shitty reputation! You bully pre-teens and they actually fear you and you think that's a good thing? That's what you wanna leave behind when you graduate here?" Your face was turning a deep shade of (insert skin color please). He knew he fucked up, not that he’d admit it, and his soft eyes hardened again.

"Remember who's in charge in this relationship, boy." His hand snaked around the back of your neck, tugging you forward. Your nostrils flared as you released a sigh. Was he really pulling out the dominant card right now?

"I told you there was no relationship." you shoved his hand away, standing straight up and walking past him. You didn’t get far before he grabbed the hood of your robe and tugged you back. He guided you so your back collided roughly with the end of the book case he was leaning against.

“I know you can’t quit me like that, love.” The pure-blood spat out the pet name as his thumb and index finger roughly grabbed your chin and tugged your head up. “We both know I infected you like a virus- I know you're obsessed with me, sweetie.” A menacing grin spread across Draco’s pale lips when your jaw dropped open and your mouth fumbled to find words to combat him.

He moved his leg between yours, his hands moving from the scrunched fabric of your hood to your neck. He leaned in, planting a rough kiss to your lips while his other hand untucked your shirt. He pushed his hand under the shirt, rubbing the skin of your hip while he deepened the kiss. He managed to push his tongue past your lips and ran along yours.

Draco angled his leg to brush against your crotch causing you to jolt in the kiss. He pulled back, his tongue licking your teeth while pulling back. 

“Told you.” He purred out. The hand on your neck gives you a squeeze around the neck while his icy eyes go from your lips to your eyes. He could read you like a book. You hated it. “Don’t be a slut, darling. Let’s head to my room, yeah?” He didn’t move until you nodded your head slowly. “Good boy. Come on.”

The walk to the common room was long, but the hand around the back of your neck was sturdy. It didn't take long for him to have you pressed against the wall of his prefect bedroom, chest first, your pants basically vanished from your legs and his hand wrapped around your hard dick. 

“You’re such a whore, aren’t ya, baby boy, hmm?” Draco’s voice boomed in your ear as his fingers interlocked into your skelp. You couldn’t help but sob. The hand on your dick was going faster, but refused to slide over the swollen head. Your nails scraped down the wall pressed against your front and Draco pressed your cheek harder against the brick. “Been such a bad boy- using that dirty mouth to talk so poorly about me and to flirt with my anime. If you wanted a three-some you should’ve asked Zabini. But Potter? You know that’s a firm no, baby.”

He was tsking before biting down on the side of your neck, the grip he had around your cock only tightened to the point of painful. Tears of humiliation and pain gathered in your eyeline, threatening to boil over. Your legs subconsciously spread when he began to grind into the bulge of your ass, his hard dick prominent into your crack. He licked a strip up from the bite to your ear.

“You know very well what happens to slutty bad boys who flirt with sir’s enemy, right, baby?” He was growling in your ear again, his hand coming to a tight hold at your base. He let out a mocking laugh when your legs clamped shut and your hips tried to wiggle out of his grasp.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, Draco!” You squeaked out, voice a few octaves higher than usual. It made Draco happy to hear your pathetic pleas, but his joy was melting away due to you still squirming in his grasp. He shook his head, tsking again. He tugged your hair, yanking your head back and forcing you to bow against his body. He gave you a firm slap against the cheek before cupping your cheeks together and forcing your lips to pout, his hand still in your hair.

“You know that’s not my name right now, kitten. Use the right one.”

“I’m sorry, sir.” Your voice was weak compared to Draco’s, the obvious authority he had over you made you shiver. Abruptly, he pushed you against the wall, letting go of your hair and he was backing away from you. 

“Not yet your not, kitten. Finish stripping then get your arse over here.” Draco spoke, sitting down on the bed, patting the top of his thighs. He smirked when you did what he said, tossing your shirt off into the corner and approaching him slowly. He reached out to grab your arm and tug you over his lap. 

He used one hand to push your face into the mattress while the other ran over your right cheek. He loved watching your hips try to duck and avoid the cold silver of his rings. He let out a mocking laugh, his hands grabbing into your bum, nails digging into the skin to leave marks that had your back arching. 

"Aw, baby. Is it too cold for you?" He laughed louder, feeling you nod against his left hand tangled in your hair. "Aw, poor baby. Wait until you feel them bruise your skin. Now, do you remember what you say?"

"Yes, sir." your voice sounded strained--like you were mentally preparing yourself for the bite of the rings, the puncture of his smacks. You were, in all honesty. He never held back during punishments. 

"See? It isn't so hard to be a good boy after all, is it?" he patted your head before brushing your hair back. "Remember the safe system, darling? Good. Color?" 

"Green, sir." your legs were clenching together and wiggling, but a swat to the back of the sensitive skin of your thighs made you stop. "I'm sorry sir." 

"Good.. Now, how many does a horny little whore like you deserve, hmm? Ten? Fifteen?"

You knew what he was looking for. 

"T-Twenty." You swallowed. The anticipation and degrading was making your head cloudy. 

"Twenty? Well, you must've been really naughty, huh?" His hand ran to your lower back, caressing the skin before dragging his nails back down, leaving a trail of red marks down your skin.

You nodded your head quickly, biting your lip to conceal a moan. You could feel the pre-cum going down your hard dick, which was pressing into Draco's thigh.

"No response? Maybe we should add another ten then, since you wanna be so bad." 

"I-I'm sorry, sir! Twenty is what I deserve." You said quickly, trying to turn back and give him the huge innocent eyes he always went weak for. 

"No. Thirty seems far more fitting." He chose now to start the punishment with a raised hand and a harsh slap over the perfect curve of your ass. He watched the skin bounce and groaned, gripping the flesh again.

"One! Thank you sir." You squeaked out, back arching at the familiar sting of the hit. The cold silver of his rings colliding with your skin caused your toes to curl. 

"Atta boy." he purred out, repeating the action on the other side.

“Two, thank you sir!”

By the tenth spank, tears were falling freely down your cheeks. By the fifteenth, your voice was breaking with each shout. By the twentieth, you were trying to crawl away. By the twenty-fifth, you were kicking your legs like a brat. Somehow you managed to count to thirty without losing track. 

"You did so good, baby. Even if you were being a brat." Draco chuckled, running his fingers through your hair. His other hand rubbed your cheeks, trying to sooth the deep red (or whatever tint shows up with your skin, I wanna be as inclusive as possible) marks on your skin.

You let out another sniffle, propping yourself up on an elbow and wiping the tears off your cheeks. His hand ran up your sweat thighs, his palms rubbing the already sore skin of your ass once he got to it.

“Color?”

“Green, sir.” You turned your head to look at him. Your legs shifted, creating a shattering hyper awareness of how hard and how wet your cock was against his thigh. You caught his dirty smirk before he flipped you over. Suddenly, it was stoic and he was tugging your lower half back onto his lap. This time, Draco was sitting back on his calves, and he was steadily putting your legs around his waist.

“Good. Now,” he paused to lick his lips, “I’m going to fuck the brat out of you, got it?” His hands moved down your thighs before moving up to your pelvic bone. While you were responding with a polite, but breathless ‘yessir’, his hand was lazily wrapping around your cock.

He was still fully dressed, and the smooth fabric of his uniform pants rubbed against the sore spots on your ass. Your hips moved upward, trying to get more of his moving hand and less of the fabric against your bottom. You let out a breathy moan while his thumb idly swiped across the swollen head of your dick.

“That’s it.” He mumbled to himself over the sound of his zipper dropping. He mumbled a preparing, lubrication and cleaning spell, his hand still working you slowly. The blonde stuck his tongue out in concentration while pushing his own cock into your lubed ass. Draco let out a hum, his teeth clamping down onto his tongue. “Fuck yes. Such a good boy- my good little slut.” He let go of your dick and clamped his hands onto your waist and used the leverage to pull you down onto his cock.

You clamped a hand over your mouth, trying to muffle the cry as he stuffed his cock into you. You felt the wind knocked out of you. You gripped the sheets, whining pathetically. The head of his dick nudged against your sweet spot while he sat there, waiting patiently for you to adjust. It had been a bit of time since the last time you guys had fun sexy time. Your dick was literally throbbing, occasionally twitching, at the idea of him literally fucking you stupid. Your eyes were staring at the top of his four post bed, lost in your own thoughts when he began to move.

He tested the waters with the quick thrust, which yanked a moan from you. When you finally looked at him, you realized he was watching you intently, a menacing grin spread across his face.

“How’s your arse?” Draco asked, his voice condescending and cocky as he gave another thrust. His hand snaked around to your sore ass cheeks and gave one a tough squeeze, his nails digging in.

A cry left your lips, this time pain filled instead of pleasure. You planted your feet flat on the bed and tried to wiggle away from his grasp, which only made it worse.

“Sore, you dick!” You reached around, grabbing his wrist and trying to pull his hand away. “Ow! Let go, Draco!” You dug your nails into his wrist, trying to show him a small level of the pain he was causing but he just laughed, mocking your voice.

“Owie, it hurts! Take it, babe. You can do it.” He let go, his hands coming to hold your hips again before moving you at a punishingly rough pace. His muscular thighs rubbed against your ass, not that he cared. The pain was somehow starting to make the pleasure stronger. Soon it was filling your veins and fogging your brain.

Draco relished every moan, every gasp, every little sound you made. He listened to you whine out his name and it only fueled him more. He watched the sweat bead across your forehead and felt proud of himself.

“Atta boy. Gonna cum soon? Gonna cum completely untouched, like a whore? Hmm?” He purred out, leaning down to leave hickies across your neck and scratches down your chest. Your back arched pathetically off the bed while a woeful affirmative left your lips- but it wasn’t good enough for him.

“Say it.” He snarled, his voice too close to your ear to be that loud.

“G’nna cum, please.” You didn’t know what you were begging for, but your arms wrapped around his neck and pulling him closer. He shifted so he could rail you into the mattress and fulfill his promise.

“Please what? How can I help you if I don’t know what you want? What do you need, kitten?” 

It was like he used the imperius curse on you. You bent to fit his mold and he couldn’t have asked for more.

“Please, sir. Please let me cum, please.” You whimpered, your toes curling in the air. Your ankles locked behind his waist and dug into him, effectively pulling him closer. His palm glided up your chest again and he gave you a smile.

“Course you can, love. Whenever you're good to go.” Draco didn’t ease up his hips, but his voice was softer and after a few thrusts hitting your prostate and a brush of his stomach against your weeping cock had you cumming. Your head tossed back and you didn’t bother to muffle the cry of his name.

It didn’t take much to follow you for Draco, it never did. He always thought one of the most beautiful expressions you could make was while you were cumming on his bed. That, and when he gave you candy and you smiled at him. He kissed every bruise he left on your skin before landing on your lips and laid next to you.

He pulled a sheet over the two of you- the room had gotten hot but he knew both of you were too tired to get cleaned and shower. He pulled you to his chest, kissing your temple.

“You did so good, baby. I love you.” He rested his chin against the top of your head, completely delving you in his shirt covered chest. He rubbed a hand down your back. Your boyfriend didn’t care about sweat. 

“I love you too, Draco.” Your voice was rough and raspy. You planted a kiss to his cheek and nuzzled deeper into him somehow. “I miss you. The nice you- not the mean Slytherin you. He can suck my dick.”

“I know, I know. I’ll work on it. I promise.” Draco spoke between laughs. He hesitated, his mind bouncing between two questions he wanted to ask at once. “Do you want me to get you a bottle of water and we go take a bubble bath?” His voice was soft, but a massive grin spread across his lips when you nodded.

“Can we take a nap first?” You looked up at him with those big innocent eyes and gave him that smile he loved.

“Of course, dove.”

[benedictscanvas]

all the wrong places [finale] - spencer reid x reader

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: It only takes a moment for Spencer to realise that he doesn’t just want to marry you someday, he wants to marry you as soon as he possibly can. But since he can’t come up with a solid plan, he turns to his BAU family for help in planning the most important day of his life so far. Is that a mistake? Most definitely.

Warnings: Series probably aren’t meant to be exclusively fluffy, but this one practically is! I need some fluff in my life, damn it! There may be some mention of regular Criminal Minds things, some language but mostly just good ol’ Spence lovin’

A/N: We’re finally here. It was so, so difficult to finish off a series so long in the making, so I truly hope I’ve done it justice for everyone. As always, I love you all dearly, and thank you for all your support on the series and beyond. Enjoy <3

---

Chapter Seven

Spencer heard you slip out of bed earlier in the morning than you usually would, but still didn’t say anything. Even though he knew for certain that neither of you had slept at all, even though he wanted to just tell you that he would happily marry you tomorrow, even though lying next to you all night and trying not to cry had been torture.

He’d realised about an hour into his desperation that he wasn’t going to be able to simply turn over and explain himself, because you would think he was lying. How could he convince you that he wanted to marry you when his entire demeanour had suggested otherwise? He could show you the ring, but then he’d be proposing at two in the morning in your bed when the two of you were trying not to cry. That wasn’t the story he wanted you to excitedly relate to your coworkers, your family, your future children.

At the thought of your future children, he couldn’t help but begin his silent crying.

Now, tears long dried up as he’d stared blankly at the ceiling, he checked his phone. 5am. He could hear you rustling around getting dressed in the room next door. Quicker than he could comprehend, he heard the front door slowly click shut. You’d left already. Definitely didn’t want to hum along to your combined favourite playlist on the way to work this morning, then.

Knowing there was no point in lying there any longer, Spencer got up instead. When he trudged into the living room, rubbing his eyes, the post-it on the door almost made him lose his resolve not to cry again.

Thought I’d get an early start this morning, but I’ll leave you the car. I’m so sorry about last night, Spence. Love you x

He took a deep breath. He was proposing today, there was no doubt about that. He couldn’t let you go on a second longer without the knowledge that he’d been trying to propose to you for months and that he’d frozen because he had all these plans, terrible plans. He couldn’t just say yes when he wanted to show you just how much he wanted to marry you.

He picked up his phone, thinking about which of his friends would be able to help him most. There wasn’t much of a contest, since only one of them would already be up and therefore not too mad at him for calling at such an unsocial time.

“JJ? Can I come over?”

---

“Oh, Spence,” JJ sighed knowingly after Spencer had recalled the events of the previous evening with precise accuracy. They sat at her kitchen table, with Will looking after Henry elsewhere in the house, “You didn’t say anything?”

“I panicked, JJ, you know how much I’ve put into this. I didn’t know how to fix it, but I also couldn’t have just agreed to marry her right then and there when I’ve spent so long trying to make this proposal perfect.”

“I know, I know. This is going to take a lot of fixing though, Spence, if Y/N thinks you don’t want to marry her.”

“I know! That’s why I’m proposing today, no matter what happens, I’m not letting anything get in my way again.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? She won’t just think you’re proposing because you feel guilty?”

“Not if I explicitly tell her that’s not the case,” Spencer reasoned, and though JJ still looked unsure, she conceded with a half-smile.

“Okay, Spence, what do you need from me?”

“Not much. I just need you to keep everyone away from the break room for a while.”

“You’re proposing in the break room?” She asked, only a little incredulous. He rolled his eyes.

“It’s where we first met, JJ, that has to count for something.”

You were making the first round of coffee for everyone on your first morning. It felt like the right thing to do to get off on the right foot. When Spencer had come in to make his own, you’d insisted on making it for him too and he’d stood there awkwardly as he committed every plane of your face to memory. It didn’t take him long, roughly the same time it took him to fall madly in love with you as he added more sugar to the coffee you’d made him without thinking and you had grinned up at him without a word.

“Alright, alright,” JJ held her hands up in surrender, standing from the kitchen table as she glanced at the clock on the wall, “You’ve been here for hours Spencer, we’ve got to get going.”

Spencer nodded, feeling the bile rising in his throat. The ring box was in his pocket now because feeling the weight of it was the only thing keeping him grounded. The two of you never argued, not that this was an argument, but you never didn’t talk. It felt wrong, not kissing you awake this morning, not squeezing your hand as the two of you ate breakfast.

These were the things he wanted to do for the rest of his life. With you.

---

When Spencer and JJ stepped out of the elevator, later to work than they should’ve been, they caught a glimpse of everyone in the office suddenly turning back to their work. Spencer swore he saw Hotch turn on his heel and practically speed walk back towards his office. They opened the glass doors and both stared out at their colleagues suspiciously.

Spencer’s first thought was that Y/N was nowhere to be found, but JJ’s was clearly very different.

“Alright, what’s going on here?” She said instantly, despite the fact that no one was looking at them. Practically the whole team turned towards her with guilty looks on their faces, with Rossi appearing from a hiding spot behind Spencer’s own desk, “What are you all hiding?”

“Look, we were supposed to do this far more subtly, but since Rossi decided to hide,” Derek glared at Rossi mid-sentence who looked suitably embarrassed himself, “Reid, you should go to the break room.”

“What? Why should I go to-“

“Spencer,” Emily spoke up with a hopeful expression, “Just go to the break room.”

He managed to catch on at that point. It was more than likely that this was where he would find you. Had JJ called ahead and told them to get you in there so he could execute his plan? He smiled at everyone for their cooperation and rushed off towards the break room to find you.

But when he looked in the small window on the door, he couldn’t even see you. He was really hoping this wasn’t some elaborate prank by Derek, because he wasn’t sure he could handle that with no sleep and his heart beating out of his chest. He opened the door regardless, because maybe he could wait for you in-

His small surprised inhale almost sounded like a gasp. You were in the room, right in front of him, with shining eyes and a smile that looked equal parts adoring and terrified.

And you were down on one knee.

His hand was frozen to the door knob. Feet glued to the floor. Eyes stuck on your face, flittering around those features he could recite by memory whether it was eidetic or otherwise. He still hadn’t moved, or spoken, or done anything and it was only when you were getting up and ushering him inside that he regained control over his body.

“Quick, close the door, I don’t want people listening to this,” you insisted quietly, bringing him fully inside the break room and closing the door behind him. He could hear you trying not to cry and it was jarring, “Derek will tease me for weeks. Months, even.”

And with that, you took up your position on one knee once again in front of him, getting down onto the floor with clumsy feet, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand as you took a deep breath. He knew to stay quiet for now.

“Okay, so, first thing you’ve probably noticed is that I don’t have a ring. I’m sorry. This was kind of spur of the moment, but if you say yes then Hotch said we could have the rest of the day off to go and find one for you, if that’s something you want-” you took another deep breath, this one out of necessity. It was hard to find time to breathe when there was so much you wanted to say all at once. His watery smile was prevalent as he reached out a hand and you took it in both of your own.

“Anyway, there’s more important things to say right now,” you continued, shaking your head, “I love you, Spencer Reid. In every way imaginable. More than even you could comprehend. You are everything. And I want to marry you desperately, not for ridiculous financial reasons, but because I want to be your wife. I said all that crap last night because I panicked. I want to be able to call you my husband and I want to have the same last name, whichever one we choose and I want to have a day where we celebrate just how amazing we are together.”

Spencer was definitely crying now, as were you, but somehow the shaky tone with which you said your words was only adding to how much you truly meant them. He didn’t have time to wonder how he managed to get so lucky, nor how he had messed this up so many times that you had felt the need to do it yourself. All he was thinking about was that he needed to make sure you knew how much he wanted this too, and quickly.

“Y/N-”

“One second, Spence, I’ve nearly finished I promise,” you insisted, and he wasn’t going to refuse you, silently rubbing soothing circles into your knuckles as one of his tears dripped down onto your joined hands, “I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you and I want it to be immortalised on paper too, because we both love a document.”

He chuckled down at you disbelievingly.

“Doctor Spencer Reid, will you marry me?”

He took a deep breath and joined you on the floor, kneeling in front of you. He reached out with one hand to press his thumb to a tear on your face, not wiping away, simply savouring the feel of it against his skin. It didn’t take much to commit it, along with every detail of the moment, to memory.

“This is unconventional,” he mused, flicking his gaze all over your face, keeping his answer withheld just a little longer.

“Just because I’m the one proposing? I never took you for a traditional.”

“I was actually talking about us being on the floor of the break room at our workplace,” he explained, “Do you know how many people’s coffee we’re likely kneeling in right now?”

“I’m sure you could give me an unsurprisingly accurate estimate, my love,” you said kindly, with a patience he couldn’t understand, “But I’d much prefer you answer my question.”

He had been hoping you would say that, because it gave him the perfect opportunity to pull the ring box out of his pocket.

“Does this answer your question?’

Popping open the lid of the box and presenting the ring inside to you, he kept his eyes trained on your face to capture your reaction forever. It was better than he could have pictured. Sparkly eyes and shaking hands and sniffles and so much love.

“You just have that?”

“Have done for a while,” he admitted, closing his eyes for just a moment when you placed a careful hand on his face, “Been trying to do this for a long time, angel.”

The disbelief on your face is palpable, and he takes note of the fact that you’ve hardly even looked at the ring yet, your attention captured by him: only him. He’s never felt more loved. More whole.

“You have? I’m sorry I stole your thund-”

“No, no, never,” Spencer interrupted you, seeing the flash of guilt in your eyes even as you tried to hide it, “You could never. This just makes it better. You want to marry me enough to ask me twice?”

A wry smile from you is all the answer he needs. You answer him anyway.

“‘Course I do, baby.”

“Well then, since I want to marry you enough to have tried to ask five times,” he placed his own hand on top of yours on his face and nuzzled into it, ignoring your look of pure shock, “The answer is a yes.”

“To the original question?”

“And every other question that comes after it,” he confirmed and though you’re both still crying, your grins are lighting up the whole room, “What about you?”

“What about me?” you retorted, “I don’t remember you asking me a question, actu-”

“Will you marry me, Y/N?”

You were laughing through your tears now, at him, at the whole situation. He could feel the floor against his knees, the edges of pain creeping in as the two of you stayed on the floor for longer than you should have, but it wasn’t as if he wanted to go anywhere just yet.

“Oh, that question? Yeah, that’s a definite yes. A definite, absolute, no question about it-”

He cut you off again, but he didn’t feel too bad about it once your lips were on his and he was kissing you with everything he had in him. You may have been kneeling on the floor but his arms were around your waist, one travelling up your back and into your hair, keeping you as close as humanly possible. When he feels your hands in his own hair and your nails lightly scratching against his scalp he could swear that nothing in his life to come will ever come close to this feeling.

Then he remembers he’s going to have a wedding day with you in the not so distant future and if it’s even possible, he draws you closer. So close, with such fervour, that the ring box falls to the floor, utterly forgotten as a mere trinket in wake of the best moment of both of your lives.

He hears the door beginning to open behind him, even as he’s so focused on you in his arms, and he just knows that its the team, that they’ve been watching you silently this whole time. So, without much thought, his leg flew backwards behind him and made contact with the door, effectively shutting anyone and everyone else out of a moment that he needed to be just the two of you. It made a slight crashing noise, but when you tried pulling away, he only chased your lips until you were back together again and if the little sigh you gave him was any indicator, you wouldn’t be investigating the noise for just a little longer.

Whoever just tried to come in would be laying into him later, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

When you did finally part, with more reluctance than ever and heaving chests pressed against one another, you stayed close. Foreheads lightly grazing, breath intertwined along with your respective futures. He grabbed the ring box from the floor and opened it back up, taking out the ring with shaky fingers.

“May I?”

You merely giggle, leaning back away from him so that you could see his face properly as you wiggle your fingers in front of him excitedly. He takes your left hand in his tenderly and slides the ring on with a careful hand, kissing across your knuckles to seal the deal. When he looks back up, he sees your eyes have drifted behind him.

“Spence,” you say slowly, eyes trained on the door, “Did you kick the door shut when they tried to come in?”

He should have known you’d put it together when he stopped kissing you. Maybe he should never have stopped. That would solve most of his problems.

“He did!” an angry voice comes through the door, angry and loud and definitely belonging to Derek. Spencer finally turns, taking in the sight of every single one of his coworkers crowded haphazardly around the small window in the door to the break room, each in various states of happiness. There were even more tears outside the room than in it, with Penelope adding a significant number, but JJ, Derek and even Hotch were adding a few of their own to the count.

This time, when JJ pushed the door open, he didn’t shut it in her face, however much he still wanted to preserve his moment with you. When Garcia runs over and throws herself onto the floor to hug the both of you and the rest of the team follows suit, he supposes he doesn’t mind too much.

When he catches a glimpse of your face through all the hugging and you’re already staring at him, he decides he doesn’t mind at all.

---

“And the third time?”

“Ah, see, the third time is my personal favourite,” Emily said, trying not to join Penelope in her hysterical giggles at just the thought of the accidental flash mob she’d arranged, “Do you happen to remember when Penelope spotted Bruno Mars outside the building?”

Your brow furrowed and then there was clearly a moment when everything clicked in your head and your eyes widened.

“No! That was a proposal attempt?”

You were looking up at Spencer now and he just rolled his eyes good-naturedly, keeping his fingers entwined with yours over your shoulder. He had made sure that the pad of his finger was lightly pressed against the metal of the ring at all times during your engagement dinner, occasionally reminding himself of its shape with slow, deliberate strokes. A whole month since he’d put it there and still the feeling of it was electric each and every time.

“Not exactly,” he admitted, glancing at a still laughing Penelope, “Garcia ordered a flash mob, then forgot to cancel when I told her to, then saved the day with her quick thinking.”

You blinked.

“I”m sorry, what?!”

And soon Emily was launching into the full story, reminding you of the little details of the moment that you would have missed at the time, Derek chiming in too, if only to describe the varying degrees of panic on Spencer’s face. He was happy to sit back in his booth seat and let them tell it, if only because it gave him perfect opportunity to enjoy the story along with you, through your expressions and comments and persistent laughter.

Derek soon transitioned into explaining the very awkward moment with Emily on the jet, to which you were again shocked to hear how terrible everyone’s ideas had really been. You and JJ had already had a lighthearted argument about her terrible restaurant idea, although both of you were very clearly joking around.

“Hey, Reid,” Hotch said lowly, gaining his attention during the dinner when Dave was talking about the time after the bomber came into the police precinct a couple of weeks ago. Spencer turned to him at the head of the table, “I think it turned out perfect, in the end. I’m proud of you.”

“Even if I was beaten to it?”

Hotch chuckled, but placed a hand on Reid’s shoulder nonetheless.

“Even so.”

“Thanks, Hotch,” Spencer replied sincerely, really meaning it. Hotch gave him a single nod before retracting his hand and asking JJ to pass the garlic bread. The moment had been short, but Hotch being proud of him was something that he had always held close to his heart.

When he turned back to you, the botched proposal stories seemed to be coming to an end and in the momentary silence, you spoke up, one hand still entwined with his own but the other holding up your glass.

“I’d like to make a toast,” you said, encouraging everyone to raise their glasses with you, “Which may be unconventional, but it has to be said. I want to thank you all for coming here to celebrate our engagement tonight, but also for every bit of support you’ve all given us over the years. We love you and we couldn’t be more grateful, however terrible your proposal ideas might have been.”

A resounding laugh from everyone, and a protest from Dave who insisted that his advice was brilliant all along. Derek managed to silence him with just a look. They began to clink their glasses together, but you weren’t quite done yet, and Spencer knew it.

“Just before we toast, I’d also like to suggest that you all enroll yourselves on a profiling refreshers course, first thing Monday morning,” you paused for dramatic effect, soaking in the confusion from everyone at the table as Spencer just stared down at you in awe, the smile on his face unable to be contained, “Because the fact that none of you have noticed that I’ve not touched a drop of champagne tonight is a real embarrassment to us all.”

Silence. Gears clicking into place. Then - uproar.

Spencer sees the utter joy appearing on everyone’s faces and can’t help but lean into you, kissing your temple once, twice, three times. Before he can do a fourth, you’ve turned to him, your glistening eyes on his as you kiss him properly. He can’t help the hand that falls to rest on your stomach as he does so, overwhelmed with noise, laughter and so much love.

---

taglist (ily all <3)

@mrs-dr-reid @soda610 @alexxcorona113 @thupidalethea @may-beforejune-afterapril @ilovesupersoldiers @hurricanejjareau @mortallythoughtfulgurl @aperrywilliams@saranyx @anotherspencerreidblog @thegayestdestielshipper @burkgolden @zozoleesi  @sargent-barnes @halseysunset @blameitonthenight21 @televisiondreamstomorrow @dralexreid​ 

[basicjetsetter]

Part V

♡ Pairing: Peter Parker x Black!FemaleReader

▹ Warnings: Fluffy scenes, anxious moments, cliff-hanger

▹ Words: 3.3k

▹ A/N: We are reaching the eye of the storm. Happy reading!

“ ‘Kay, so there’s no way they’re gonna win this game without him turning into the Wolf, right?”

“Finish watching it, Peter.”

Peter musingly shakes his head, mouthful of his fourth slice of pizza. “There’s no way.”

You level a patient smirk at him and point to the television, wordlessly telling him to see for himself.

The screen’s brightness fills your otherwise dark living room, casting shadows along the angles of Peter’s concentrated face. His body is sloped forward, and if he didn’t possess the body control of an enhanced being, he’d fall face-first into your carpet.

Tonight’s movie selection was your choice, and you didn’t want to disappoint. So when Peter said he’d never seen Teen Wolf, you were over the moon. Usually, you’d watch every single second of the classic film, but with Peter sitting cross-legged next to you, his hip pressed against yours as your crossed leg rests on top of his, you spent the entire time covertly peeking at his fascinated expressions.

Well into the third month of your friendship, Peter’s presence in your apartment remains to be an odd sight in a good way. Out of your ordinary. His first time in your apartment came on a day you both chose to escape the sun’s sweltering heat with A/C and ice cream, and like your first conversation in Hal’s, he never made it weird.

It was effortless. Every moment with Peter was like breathing.

If anyone else suggested Friday-night movie nights, you’d have spared no time shutting them down. But your yes to Peter harbored no resistance.

“No way!” An excited smile spreads across Peter’s face as Scott steps to the baseline to take the game-winning free throw shots. “Is he seriously gonna make these?”

You seal your lips, choosing not to spoil the moment, but Peter doesn’t see. His eyes never stray from the screen, and his lips slightly part from the nail-biting suspense. As the last shot falls through the hoop, Peter’s whole jaw drops.

When the end credits roll, he slowly claps. “That was awesome. Like I’ve got some serious chills. How am I going to top that?”

“Eh, you probably won’t,” you reply with a boastful grin. Hidden joy thrums through your body from his excitement. “Might as well call a wrap on movie nights.”

Peter playfully nudges you with his elbow, then checks his watch. “Ah, man, it’s late. I needed to be on patrol half an hour ago.” He’s up in a flash, slipping his shoes on and chewing up the rest of his pizza.

“Do you have to go?” A hint of sadness tinges your words. 

“Yeah, the city would be a mess without me,” he jokes, but you weren’t remiss of his undertone sincerity. “Oh! That reminds me. Some bad guys are out on a robbing spree lately, tailing people at night, so if you work late, can you ask Chris to walk you home? Y’know, just in case I’m not there.”

He does this every time he’s over. Each week, there’s a new thing or group to be leery of, and each time he asks, you immediately nod to erase the gut-sinking concern in his brown eyes.

You rise from the couch and follow Peter to the door. He turns just as he’s about to twist the handle, stalls for a second, then envelopes you into a small, reluctant hug, leaving his arms lax just in case you wanted to pull away. 

Hugging is new, something you’ve only done about five times. The first was an unplanned disaster featuring a hard shove, repeated apologies, and a long, awkward moment of silence. 

You didn’t mean to push him away. It was one of those moments where, even though the urge to reciprocate was there, you couldn’t allow yourself to find comfort in such an innocent gesture. You weren’t ready. He respected that.

You knew your rash reaction bruised Peter more than he let on, but he learned to ease his way into your comfort zone with small touches. An intentional brush of his hand against yours, scooching closer to you on the couch, hi-fives with minimally laced fingers.

It took a while for the second hug-attempt, but you were cautiously prepared when it happened.

This time around, you return the gesture, winding your arms around his middle and setting your chin on his shoulder, resisting the urge to nuzzle your nose against his warm neck. His closeness frazzles you, even more so when he diminishes the gap between you, holding you tighter to his chest before releasing you and clearing his throat.

“Be safe,” you warn softly.

He puffs out his chest. “I have nothing to fear except fear itself.”

“That confident, huh?”

“Comes with the job. You get knocked down enough times, you get pretty confident once you realize you can always get back up.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. And yet you still have a fear of heights.”

“Never said I wasn’t afraid of falling. Just that it gets easier getting back up. ‘Sides, most of those petty offenders scare easy. All I gotta do is say I can plant eggs in ‘em.” He shudders at the idea himself.

“Please, Peter,” you implore, a smile sullying your stern frown.

Peter’s grin, always so wholesome and calming, blankets over your nerves. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.”

“Well, I think Spider-Man needs someone to worry about him, sometimes. Even if he can get back up. Just… let caution work alongside confidence.”

He heeds your words with a more allayed smile, curtly nodding. “Vigilance. I can do that.”

You’re tempted to wrap him back into your arms to protect him from whatever dangers lie outside of your apartment. Instead, you exchange simple goodnights and shut the door once he reaches the stairwell.

The room and your shirt preserve his crisp evergreen scent long after he’s gone. It lingers as you crawl into bed. An aromatic reminder of his caress and warm skin.

As far as friendships go, you’ve never had one quite like this. The line you drew in the sand moves. Accommodates. Shrinks. Whether he’s aware of it or not, the time you spend cracking jokes with Peter at Hal’s, listening to his adventurous feats, becoming comfortable with his physical proximity, seeing his smile and the way his eyes light up when you smile at something funny or interesting he’s said, you fall just an inch.

He's growing on you. His presence. His laughter. His beaconing smile. His tentative touch. His uncanny ability to endear himself to your foreclosed heart.

It was easier to deny the connection when you didn’t know Peter. But now that you do, every moment you’re with him intensifies what you’ve painstakingly tried to avoid.

You’re falling in love with your Soulmate.

✦ ✧✦ ✧

Once again, it’s the Saturday brunch rush, and once again, Hal’s is up to its neck in bloodthirsty customers. All the booths are packed, as well as the stools. Some of the parties compact a seat meant for two with four people, and the aisle clogs with those who just came to grab a cup of coffee and conversation.

Chris is in his element, swinging from one booth to the next like a controlled tornado collecting orders, while you and Wendy are the unfortunate bunch who have to clean up desecrated tables and feed the greedy.

“If someone asks me what the specials are one more time, I’m going to rip my hair out,” Wendy grouses behind the counter as she puts away five menus.

You grumble back the same sentiments. Menus exist for a reason. And most of these people aren’t new to Hal’s, so the fact that they always have to ask grinds your gears.

11:30 a.m. is your saving grace. If you can hold on until Peter gets here, you’ll be fine.

Chris stops by the bar, pocketing what appears to be a twenty-dollar bill. “Lighten up, ladies. At least you’re off tomorrow.”

Wendy, in her 5’3’’ stature, looks feral. “I want to be off now.”

A rowdy group of high-schoolers sitting in the farthest booth is holding a contest to see who could drink a milkshake the fastest, and the two unlucky contestants shriek like banshees from self-inflicted brain-freeze. All three of you wince.

“We don’t get paid enough for this.”

Hal shouts from the back. “Order up! And stop slackin’ off out there!”

Wendy’s eye twitches as she marches to the back to pick up the orders. You’d have acted the same way if you didn’t have something to look forward to.

“They’re not going to tip me. I just know it,” Chris says to you, despondently looking over at the teens’ table again.

“They’ll come around. No one can resist this moneymaker.” You lightly bump him on the chin to indicate his smile. Heck, his whole chiseled face is a moneymaker, but that exuberant smile sells it all.

Over the last three months, just like your friendship with Peter, your friendship with Chris has improved. Even with Wendy. You aren’t at each other’s throats nearly as much as you used to be. Last week, she complimented your hairstyle, though it was immediately followed up with a snide comment: progress, either way.

Chris laughs. “And here I thought my friendly personality racked up all the tips.”

“It’s a bonus.”

He chuckles again, then blows out a hesitant breath. “So, Y/N…”

“So, Chris…”

“There’s, um, there’s gonna be another music festival in Cunningham Park tonight, and I was wondering if, y’know, you and Peter might want to come and hang?”

You and Peter… As if you were a pair. An item. A couple. To unsuspecting eyes, you knew you and Peter seemed to be just really good friends. Not even Hal questioned why you spent half an hour talking to him every weekday. If he had an inkling of who Peter actually was to you, he’d have confronted you by now.

Chris, on the other hand, kept a sharp eye on you when Peter was around. As meticulous as you were about keeping up pretenses in public, sometimes you’d slip. Your smile would be a tad too bright when Peter walked through the door and took his usual seat. You’d giggle at his jokes too loud. You’d stare into his eyes too long. Signs too blatant for Chris to miss.

You’re just waiting for him to put the last piece in the puzzle.

“I’d… I’d have to ask Peter.” You take a deep breath. Here goes nothing. “But, yeah, I’ll go.”

“Wait, seriously?”

“Sure. Sounds like it’ll be fun. What time is it?”

Chris lays a hand on your forehead. “Temp seems fine. Pupils aren’t dilated. How many fingers am I holding up?”

You swat his hand down with a laugh. “Shut up.”

“Look, I know you probably don’t want me saying this out loud, but I’m glad you met Peter. We all are.”

“Why?” Evidently, you’re not that great at hiding your feelings as you thought.

Chris leans against the bar top, keeping an eye on the door just in case customers walked in. “Well, for starters, you literally just agreed to hang out with me for the first time since you started working here, which was—what—two years ago. And… you… I don’t know. You’re more open, y’know? Smiling and such.”

“I smiled before,” you say, a little defensive.

“Not like you do now. Before, it was all—,” Chris screws his mouth up. It’s strange. Alienated and wire-tight. The corners of his lips don’t fully come up, and it barely reaches his eyes. You instantly recognize it—the smile you hid behind.

Did you really smile like that? How is it that you never noticed how off-putting it was? If a server ever smiled at you like that, you’d assume they wished you disappeared off the face of the earth. Is that the smile people saw? More importantly, when did you stop putting it on?

“Two more strawberry milkshakes over here!” shouted one of the brain-freeze victims.

Chris hops to it. Always the perfect server. On his way to make the shakes, he says, “7 p.m.”

“I’ll be there.”

You weren’t going to confirm for Peter until he was there to answer for himself, but he doesn’t show. 11:30 a.m. and the rest of your shift flies by without a sight of him, which is strange, but not uncommon. Homework might have him tied up. September is a pretty busy month for schoolwork, and mid-terms are approaching, so he might be buried in assignments.

Worry doesn’t settle in until you’re getting ready for the music festival at 6:30 p.m., and Peter still hasn’t sent so much as a voicemail.

Evening summer sunlight filters in through your open window, the active sounds of Queens’ busy streets and subway station not allowing your room to fall quiet. Nights like this are perfect for outdoor festivals because it’s warm enough to sit in the grass and not bring a jacket.

Rather than enjoy the idea of getting out for the first time in years, your mind remains hooked on Peter.

It’s not like him not to leave a text if he’s caught up in other things. He’d make sure to tell you where he is, how far away. Since the beginning of this friendship, starting with his little notes, Peter’s constant communication wasn’t something you expected. But now that you do, this behavior just doesn’t match what you’re used to.

You pace the floor of your small bedroom, back and forth, wall to wall, abusively chewing your lower lip and turning your phone around in your hand, working up the nerve to call him, summoning up the will to voice your concern if he did answer.

When you do call, you get his voicemail. Trying again, you end up with the same result. Okay. He’s not picking up his phone.

Fear foregrounds your frustration. It bleeds into your words as you leave your fifth message. One after the other, they morph from mild concern to despairing panic. As the sun dips lower and lower on the horizon and the orange sunlight dwindles, so does your desire to go out.

Because… maybe you shouldn’t go. Maybe you should search for Peter. Finding any trace of him at all would be a stretch, and Chris might be upset about you ditching your plans the next time you see him, but you can’t possibly go out knowing something may be horribly wrong with Peter.

No. No, you won’t cancel plans like that. Peter is fine. Of course, he’s fine. He’s Spider-Man. His duties as a hero come first, no matter what. And he wouldn’t want you to stress so much about him.

Wherever he is, whatever he’s doing, he is okay. He’s alive. You feel it.

Somehow, you break the trance of your pacing and convince yourself to grab a cab ride to the park. When you arrive, the festival appears to be at a content standstill. It’s not as crowded as you assumed it would be for a Saturday night. Many of the attendants, ranging from all ages, are sitting on the grass, soaking up the fading rays of the sun while the bands finish up prepping. You’re greeted by the distinctive smell of hotdog vendors intermingled with ripening leaves.

There is nothing truly scenic about Cunningham Park, aside from the interspersed trees and trails. You’d been here a handful of times when you were younger, hanging out with friends during summer break, and one thing you loved about the park back then is how the sun shone through the leaves, casting an ethereal glow on nature.

You’re more appreciative of its beauty without the sun’s effect.

It wasn’t that hard finding Chris. All you had to do was look for the person most likely garnering friends from other groups. He’s on a blanket, seated in the center of the crowd and chatting with a group of three people.

When you’re close enough to be spotted, Chris’s face mouth out into a wide smile.

“You came!” Then his eyes roamed around. “Where’s Peter?”

You try for a carefree grin but let it fall when the effort became too much. “He couldn’t make it. School stuff.”

“Oh, well, that’s fine.” His smile drops fractionally, less joyful and more sympathetic. “I’m really glad you made it. Hey, guys. This is Y/N, my friend from work.”

You wave a little and hope for a genuine smile to grace your lips as they all scoot to make room for you on the blanket.

Chris introduces them all. He points to a buff, curly-haired guy named Dez, who you wouldn’t have guessed would be the type of guy to enjoy small park festivals. He looks like the kind of person who regularly crowd-surfs at huge concerts and somehow always winds up with a VIP pass. The next person is a slender girl named Asha, who has thick black hair knotted into a messy soccer bun and a glowing smile. 

The last person Chris introduces you to is his Soulmate. You knew just by the way he said his name. Resounding. Reverent. Borderline fanatic. His name is Quint, and unlike the others, he wraps you up in a surprising hug. What’s even more surprising is you hugging back.

“Nice to finally meet you.” His voice is richly robust, exactly how you would expect someone with his Adonis-like face to sound. Two gorgeous, outgoing Soulmates just seems unfair.

“Nice to meet you, too.” You can’t help looking from Quint’s face to Chris’s, then back again, and wondering if this is what people see when they see you and Peter—a perfect match. “Chris has told me a lot about you. All great things.”

“He better,” Quint says, jokingly gazing at Chris as a blush flared across Chris’s cheeks. “And he’s told me a lot about you and Peter.”

There it goes again: people pairing you two. It’s hard not to notice how natural that sounds, as though you two were meant to be spoken about as an inseparable whole.

You brush off your startled expression as best you can and ask, “Good things, right?”

He nods, then shares a smile with Chris. “I would’ve liked to meet him.” You roughly translate that to mean, ‘I would’ve liked to meet you both.’ The blush on Chris’s face deepens into an embarrassingly bright shade of red when he catches your eye.

A plucked, low-pitched guitar string echoes out to the crowd and effectively commences the start of the music festival. You must’ve missed the band's introduction because they got right into their music, playing a melancholic pop song that sounded pretty good. You were more interested in the guitar riffs and melodic piano notes than the lyrics, but they’re no doubt about love.

Halfway into their set, your stomach growls, and you remember that you didn’t have anything to eat since you got off work. The whole thing with Peter staved off your hunger. He’s still in the front of your mind, but you’re doing your best to enjoy the night with Chris and his friends.

Standing up, you tell Chris, “I’m gonna get a hotdog.”

He tilts his chin up in acknowledgment, then goes back to swaying his head to the music.

You got up just in time to beat the line. There are only two vendors in the park, and they’d be slammed once the music hits its intermission. The one you’re at resides near the outskirts of the crowd, closest to where you left the group, and two people are in front of you.

You wish Peter were here.

Your hand touches the outline of your phone in your back pocket while you wrestle with the idea of calling him again. Maybe he’ll pick up this time.

You’re just about to unlock your phone when you hear someone calling your name—a girl.

The voice gets closer and more breathless, like they’re running at you full speed ahead and couldn’t reach you fast enough. You turn to the sound just as the body slams into you, yanking you out of line and clutching you to their frame.

“Where the hell have you been?!”

You pull away and stare straight into her face, not trusting your own eyes. “Manda?"

...

Taglist: @alexandria-euphoria​

[imnotwolverine]

LOVE IS LIKE - Women and Wine

< PART 2 | PART 3 Women and Wine

Summary: Things don’t always go as planned. But Henry has learned that’s quite alright. If anything, it may just make you closer to loved ones. Also, the banana sock wearing princess is her clumsy-as-ever self. 

Word count: 2.178

Disclaimer: Breakup, teenage insecurity, fluff and wet dicks. I mean. In the fluffy awkward sense of the word. 

--

LOVE IS LIKE - Women and Wine

--

‘So far for an outdoor date.’ Aurora scrunched up her nose and looked down at Kal who didn’t pay any mind to the drizzle, nose sniffling through some bushes.

‘Sorry..’ Henry pouted, making her laugh.

‘You know, my apartment isn’t far from here. We can dry off, have some tea? I mean..’ She hesitated, looking back to Henry who got a particularly large drop of rain in his eye.

‘Mmpfff.’ He groaned, wiping furiously at his eye.

‘OH! Are you alright?’

Kal looked up and Henry chuckled. ‘So your initial reservations of not wanting to meet at someone’s place are...gone?’

She shrugged. ‘Drastic times, drastic measures. Come on!’

Kal yapped in agreement and Aurora laughed heartily, the heaven’s cold tears of rainwater not bothering her one bit.

‘Why..?’ The woman who had once kept his heart sobbed, thick tears rolling down her sweet cheeks. Henry swallowed as he clutched her hand a little tighter, her whole body shaking with agony. With every tear on her face he was less sure if he made the right decision.

‘Why don’t you love me?’ Her wine-red lip trembled. ‘Did I..’ She sniffed and burst into another onslaught of tears. Henry sighed quietly. Why did love have to be so hard? With a quick glance he looked at Kal who was lying in the corner of the living room, careful eyes looking back at his owner after he had been told off by the woman - the two had never quite gotten along.

Perhaps that had been a sign.

Henry waited for his mom to pick up the phone. It was Sunday, it was raining in London and he had nothing better to do then..

‘Hello dear.’

‘H-hi mom.’ Henry quickly clicked back to the flower webshop on his browser.

‘Are you alright dear?’

Henry laughed - even after all these years his mother was straight to business when her children called. ‘Mommm…’

‘What?! You never call so early in the day. I can remember the days when you called every hour of..-’

‘Mom, I’m fine.’

‘Alright alright. So there’s nothing the matter?’

‘Nothing. Or well, I just wanted to check if you’re home on Thursday, so your package won’t get lost like last time.’

‘Oh.. OH! Mother’s day. Henry sweetie. You know you don’t have to buy me flowers every year.’

‘And yet I do it anyway, mom.’

Marianne laughed before the line crackled, her voice hushed as she spoke to someone else - probably his father. ‘Alright. Oh! You are too good for me! Also, Colin’s at home. I’m picking up Nick’s cat, since they’re going on a holiday. So no lillies please!’

‘Noted.’ Henry stared at the pictured bouquet on his screen and smiled. 100 roses. ‘No lilies, got it.’

With a confirmative nod he pressed “order”.  

‘And say hi to dad for me!’

Awkwardly tugging at the far too tight and strange looking noose of a knot around his neck, young Henry waited for his father to answer his phone. Nerves were tickling his loins and the more he looked back at the reflection in the mirror, the redder he seemed to get. He had seen his father tie a tie a million times, and yet doing it himself left him suffocating and disappointed in his own abilities.

‘Henry boy.’ His father’s low voice crackled through the bad phone line. He was probably abroad right now.

‘Pa..’ Henry tugged at the tight material around his slim neck.

‘How’s it hanging, hmm?’ -- Colin tried his best to stay hip and cool, but it only made conversations between him and his sons more awkward. Henry silently rolled his eyes.

‘Ehm…’ He cleared his throat, wishing that for once his voice wouldn’t get pitchy mid-sentence. ‘I--’ He pulled at his tie again and managed to let the knot slide out like it had never been there at all. ‘I need your help dad.’

‘Something the matter? Henry, you know you can ask Mr. Mindel for help.’

‘Yea well..eh..I want to learn it myself.’ He squared his shoulders as he looked at his mirror reflection again.

‘And what is..”it” exactly?’ A mix of mirth and pride was heard in his father’s voice.

‘A tie. I’m..I’m trying to get this stupid thing on and ..’ Henry voice got pitchy and unleveled again and he groaned in annoyance.

Colin chuckled and hushed his teenage son. ‘Alright alright. First step..’

With a trained tug at the knot, Henry released the silk tie from his neck. Perhaps it had been a bit over-the-top to wear a suit and tie when going out for lunch and walk Kal with Aurora. But Henry just couldn’t help himself. These clothes just made him feel powerful and secure. Like a modern day armor, shining, sleek and - right now - also terribly uncomfortable and wet.

They had been caught by one of London’s infamous rain showers and had been soaked to the bone. Suit included.

Removing his tie, Henry let his eyes glide over Aurora’s cosy but luxurious apartment, Kal trotting behind Aurora as she ducked into one of the closets in the hallway to fetch some fresh towels.

‘You want one as well, hmm?’

Henry looked up and noted that she wasn’t talking to him, but Kal, the dog happily wagging his tail as he pushed his nose in the fresh towels in her hands. She laughed.

‘Alright then.’ With a quick swoop she pulled another towel from the closet before bumping it closed with her hip, offering one of the towels to Henry who accepted it graciously.

‘Shall I see if there’s some clean clothes that ..fit...you?’ She looked him up and down, obviously unsure whether ANYTHING would fit the colossal form of bulking muscle that was Henry. Henry shrugged.

‘I’ll keep this on if you don’t. Don’t worry.’ He smirked perhaps a bit too temptingly.

They both laughed and Aurora turned around before he could see the blush on her smiling cheeks.

Left alone in the hallway, Henry dried his face and hair, removed his jacket and sauntered over to the living area, which reminded him in a strange way of the 70s decor of some other woman’s home. Letting his eyes glide over the furniture he smiled; large leather couch with a bounty of pillows, Pilea pancake plants, the tiniest tv he probably had seen in his long life and then on the long wall on his right, one absolutely hu-freaking-mongous bookcase.

Turning his attention to said bookcase, he let his eyes roam over the more empty shelves, finding a book he knew well; it once had been his. But there was also her copy. The berry juice ruined one. King Arthur and His Knights. With curiosity Henry opened her berry ruined book, not sure what to find there other than exactly the same exact text. His eye fell on the personal note that was scribbled on the inside. Apparently it had been gifted to her.

‘To the woman who “doesn’t need no knights in shining armour”. Andy.’

‘I eh..oh!’ Aurora shrivelled away as she found Henry. Henry quickly shut the cover of the book, near stumbling back as he tried to apologise for snooping around.

‘I’m sorr-’

‘Sorry!’ She looked away. 

‘No I’M sorry, truly.’

‘No.’ Aurora shook her head and her voice sounded terribly queasy. ‘I’m sorry. Here. Hope it fits.’ She pushed a pile of what looked like a white shirt and jogging pants in Henry’s arms with a quick little glance in Henry’s blue eyes.

Did he fuck it up? Looking with a pained expression at the soft white and grey fabrics in his hands he sighed, forgetting all about his wet clothes and the way a little stream of water was running straight into his butt crack right this instant.

‘I didn’t mean to..snoop.’ He tried, but Aurora shied away even further, making a clear demonstration of turning away from Henry.

‘Aurora? Will you forgive me please?’

Aurora nodded with her head still firmly turned away.

‘Will you at least look at me?’

And then, with the slowest of head turns in human history, one beet red head looked back at him, lips biting to keep a chuckle at bay. Henry frowned, before realising that he had completely, utterly miscalculated the situation. She was not mad at him, she was.. With a slight slip Aurora’s eyes moved back down - before quickly shooting back up and away. So that was it huh? She was trying to look anywhere but to the very clear outline of his …

Dick.

--

So this is why men don’t partake in wet T-shirt contests.

‘Oh my gods!!--’

‘It’s like sugar--’

‘TURN IT OFF.’

‘So sweet.’

‘HEN.’

‘Good enough..’

‘HENRY.’

‘..to eat.’

Grumbling a hand appeared from beneath the fluffed up blankets, searching blindly for the phone that was blaring out happy tunes into the dark bedroom. In the background a shower was heard, Henry totally oblivious to his very displeased bedbug.

Turning off the hot stream of water, Henry wrapped himself in a towel, hair dripping wet as he brushed a hand over his cheek to check if it could do for the moment. Geralt could have a little stubble right? He grinned at himself in the mirror and made for the bedroom, silent feet padding to reach for his gym gear like he did every morning.

‘Baaaabeeeeeee.’ A groggy voice that in no way fit his pretty girlfriend erupted from the sheets. Henry halted his tiptoeing.

‘Your phoneeeeeee.’

‘OH! oh.. Sorry.’ Henry bit his lip as the groggy voice mimicked in horrid echo:

‘All I wanna do is get ye

Body next to mineeee.’

Henry chuckled as the sheets folded back a little so a grabby hand could reach for him.

‘Haha..oh why love, I’m WET.’

‘AS AM I. Now get in here.’ The blindly grabbing hand searched like a needy worm for anything it could attach to, making Henry chuckle even harder.

She truly was atrociously cute in the morning. With a quick flip of the hand he managed to slip back under, making the room echo with a loud squirming squeak.

‘HENRY.. YOu!’

The both of them laughed.

With a little kick in his step Henry stepped into his parent’s kitchen, the rural stone tiled room filled with the smell of fresh baking pastry and female chatter.

‘A rose..’ He pulled one of his hidden away hands from behind his back to offer a rose to his mother. ‘For my dear mom.’

Marianne chuckled and rolled her eyes at Henry’s antics, before smiling even wider when the other hand served an even prettier rose to the brunette with the princess name. Aurora snorted out with laughter.

‘YOU DORK!’

Henry gasped in mock-hurt and grasped for his chest. ‘My heart, my love! Why must thee hurt it so.’

Aurora stepped in and pressed a little kiss on Henry’s pouting lips. ‘For love cometh of the heart and not by constraint.’ She smiled and smelled the rose ‘..for love is free.’

Marianne chuckled. ‘Well it’s from the garden, so I guess it’s free. Can you call your dad for me? Lunch is almost ready.’

‘Why of course I can mother dear!’

Marianne widened her eyes, urging him to move on. Henry laughed and winked at Aurora before he made his way to the back of the house.

‘These men of ours. They wouldn’t know what to do without us.’

Aurora leaned into the kitchen counter and smiled. ‘It takes a lot to make a man. Tis true. But I do think Henry is a man enough on his own.’

‘You do?’

‘You raised him well you -- all of you did.’

‘Two books?’ Aurora frowned as she pulled the books from their pretty packaging. Henry was beaming with a smile from ear to ear.

‘The same exact..books?’

Henry nodded eagerly.

‘Hen..I know I might be a little clumsy, but…’

‘Nooo no. I thought..’ He scooted a little closer to her on the couch, making Kal grumble who had just found the perfect spot atop Henry’s feet. ‘I thought we could read together. On the plane? It’s a long way to Canada.’

Aurora flipped open the cover of the book on top, shrugging that Henry might have a point, before letting her eyes roam over the little note written in the inside of the cover page.

‘Careful with that berry juice, princess. x. Henry’

‘Youuu…’ Aurora moved to jab at Henry, but he managed to reflect her hand with practised ease.

‘Me?’ He grinned.  

‘Oh yes you.’

‘What about me?’ His smile grew wider.

Aurora shook her head then sighed in defeat. ‘Alright then. You win.’

‘I win?’ Henry acted overly victorious and smug.

Aurora’s smile melted away. ‘I..’ She swallowed. ‘-I think I love you. I wanted to say it when I meant it an--’

Henry’s smile dropped as well, eyes widening.

‘You..? You mean..’

‘You have to kiss me now okay? I mean..that’s what princes do when..--’

Henry didn’t skip a beat. 

And good gods did they kiss a lot. 

--

Also: good gods, who in their right minds places red wine on the edge of the couch seating with a pristine looking book like that nearby? Let’s just say the plane ride to Canada only had one copy of Pride & Prejudice - The Illustrated Edition on-board. 

--

End. 

--

General tagsquad: @harrysthiccthighss​ @tumblnewby @magdelen69​ @thereisa8ella​ @darkbooksarwin​ @summersong69​ @madbaddic7ed​ @luclittlepond​ @maroonmolly @just-a-normal-fangirl18​ @hell1129-blog​ @agniavateira​ @tillthelandslide​ @elinesama​ @maddyreads14​

@beck07990

[dovveling]

Why must you keep giving me opportunities to spam your ask box 😔

❣️ When did your OC first realise they were in love? How did they react to the realisation?

💍 Which one of them would propose? How would it happen? (or write if you feel like it!)

💋 Who is the best kisser? (if you’d like write a short smooch scene!)

BESTIE THANK YOU FOR ENABLING ME I'VE BEEN WANTING TO WRITE A WEDDING SCENE--

❣️ When did your OC first realize they were in love? How did they react to the realization?

- Unfortunately, it was love at first sight-- Even if Iolas would rather drop dead than admit this. He probably saw the incredibly ostentatious portrait of Lucio in his wing and was taken aback by how attracted he was to this man who was supposedly dead. It only got worse after Lucio got attached to Iolas through the ghost binding within canon-- Iolas the whole time thinks Lucio's romantic advances are just for fun and doesn't expect Lucio to love him at all. All the While he's completely in love with Lucio. (even if he acts like a rude little shit to him 50% of the time) It isn't until Lucio asks him to go traveling in the upright ending that's when Iolas realizes that Lucio is serious about him and even if it scares the shit out of him he can't help but believe him. The events of everything come crashing onto him and he realizes that He's 100% in love and cannot escape it.

💍 Which one of them would propose? How would it happen? (or write if you feel like it!)

(THANK YOU-- I will put this under a read more because the next two answers will be LONg but look under if you wanna see two idiots fall in love)

The sun hung low in the sky as Lucio makes his way to the palace gardens. He has asked Iolas to meet him out by their favorite spot in the garden maze. the blonde smiles remembering how the two of them had found the hidden spot while goofing around and shoving each other into the hedges. It wasn't until one hard push sent Lucio through the hedge and where he expected to land on his ass but he found himself on the other side of a portal with Iolas calling for him from the other side. After Lucio had ushered the other man through the portal the two looked over a hidden meadow that seemed to be somewhere close to the center of the maze.

Lucio could picture it perfectly; the stark white gazebo in the center, the perfect sun rays that sprinkled the fluffy grass, and the willow tree with its small leaves that dripped and trickled. He loved when the wind would blow and the tendrils of the willow would tickle up the wooden beams of the gazebo and scare Iolas into laughter every time the leaves would brush against his lover.

As Lucio draws closer to the portal before he stops and stares at the ring he had spent hours picking out. He had never fussed so much over a gift for someone. He never had to worry about gift-giving, because anything he picked out was glamorous and simply perfect. this however wasn't just a gift. It was a question. It was a statement and soon as he would think he was close to picking he would look and see a flaw and wonder if Iolas could see it and if he did then he'd never get to hear the answer he so desperately wants to hear to the question He'd rather not be asking.

So many times Lucio doubled back on himself about the personal. Is this just too much? could he see himself getting married when his last marriage was such a failure? Then He would hear it. Iolas' laugh and the sunlight hitting his lover's coffee skin and every reservation burned away and was replaced with a deep desire to make this person his and only his.

Lucio steels himself as he pockets the ring, almost dropping the bottle of champagne he forgets he was holding. As he pushes through the portal the blonde's heart skips a little at the sight of his lover resting on the side of the white gazebo, wearing a white robe that Lucio had gotten commissioned to match his iconic white suit. His lover seems to be lost in thought, their crimson eyes gazing over the tree line until Lucio steps closer and knocks on the wood with a playful tune. His wolfish smile triggering a similar one on his lover's face.

"Hi, my Darling--" Iolas starts before pulling Lucio over by his collar to meet his lips. With a giggle, Iolas watches Lucio hop over the median of the gazebo instead of using the very close opening that's just a little be over to the side of them. Lucio tries to steady his face. He doesn't want to come off too excited or nervous. He needs to play it cool so Iolas doesn't suspect anything, but it's too late Iolas gives him a curious look. "What are you planning? I know that look."

Lucio however holds his hands up after he places the bottle of champagne down on the railing in front of them. "Why do I always have to be up to something huh? Can't a man just meet his lover in a secret hole in the woods for some late-night drinking and maybe some late-night macking?" the blonde throws the magician a wink, which is met with a playful smack that Lucio is too found of.

"Did you bring glasses, Oh Count of Macking?" Iolas teases with a click of his tongue and to that Lucio's face freezes for a second because he did not think about the glass part of drinking, but his shock lasts for a split second before he nudges his lover with an elbow and a cheeky grin. "Can't you just magic something up for us--" Before Lucio can even finish Iolas throws his head back, his whole body shakes with a genuine laugh, one that Lucio only sees when Iolas reacts to his particular stupidity. "Absolutely not. I cannot manifest glassware, but fret not Lulu I prepared for this." The silver-haired man stands on the railing of the gazebo and reaches up behind one of the posts and brings down two champagne glasses. Lucio helps the shorter man down before taking both glasses and leaning down to give his lover a short kiss on the head.

Snickering to himself Lucio places the glasses down and pops open the champagne. "See? Who needs magic when you have a lover who has the spirit of a squirrel. Why are those even up there?" Iolas can't seem to hold back his laugher and starts into a long dialogue about how the last party they hosted he was tasked with disposing of all the drinks Lucio downed after getting into a drinking match with Julian and at some point, he got too fed up hauling all the empty glass wear to and fro so he eventually gave up and used the portal which was much closer than the garbage. Soon as he finishes that story Lucio makes note that not only does he not remember this drinking contest at all, but he also notices that the whole upper layer of the Gazebo is littered with small drinking glasses of all shapes and sizes.

This brings the two of them to a comfortable speed of talking, to which Lucio adds more flavor by introducing the drinks. The sun finally settles and the garden lights are now on and thanks to all the glass wear in the gazebo there are small reflected lights scattered within their own space. Slowly the stories of their day dwindle and eventually, they huddle close to each other so they can look under the top of their gazebo and point out stars. Lucio watches the small warm lights bounce off his lover's face and his heart races. He can't chicken out now.

"Iolas." Lucio stops the silver-haired man mid-sentence as the other was just going on about his zodiac sign and how it will be visible in the sky until he hears his name.

Iolas pauses fully, not use to hearing his full name exit his lover's lips unless it was during a more intimate and scandalous situation. So he hides his hesitation with a smile and he answers the blonde with the same tone he just used but extracted with a deeper tone to lighten the mood. "Lucio." The count starts to fidget but just laughs when Iolas mocks his serious tone. "No really, uh... Listen for a second." Iolas' face now turns from curious to worried. " Uh oh. that's a real serious tone. What did you do?" Lucio brushes him off, biting his lip and rubs the back of his neck. He feels so lame doing this, but that's the point.

Lucio stands up straight taking Iolas' hands, looking directly into those red eyes. Something in him wants to run away, but the ring sits heavy in his pocket and he opens his mouth only to close it so he can bring Iolas' cold fingers to his lips. Iolas' however is completely taken aback. His lover has been romantic before but he was much more used to their back a forths of one-upping each other and superficial hyping each other up coupled with nightly flings where he ended up in the blonde's bed. So this sudden tenderness was jarring.

The magician could feel that dark feeling creep to his shoulders that say he shouldn't get his hopes up, that he's happy filling the count's time till he finds a real suitor. Even if Lucio was a temporary General at the palace was still a completely different status then Iolas and Royals don't have court magician as suitors. So he was happy to bid his time with Lucio because even with the teasing and snarky remarks that sometimes hurt Iolas' loved the other man's company, but love doesn't change status. Love doesn't guarantee a happy ending. He knew this from experience and learned his lesson the hard way.

So It was the last thing Iolas' expected when the taller man pulls out the biggest ring the magician has ever seen and gets down on one knee. Iolas' first thought is that he wants to shake his head so he can wake up. Then when air fills his lungs he realizes he is awake and this is happening. More than happening he's been silent for too long but all he can hear is the stinging sound of his fears buzzing in his head. The buzz is deafening and He can see that Lucio is speaking but he can't hear him.

You will just disappoint him. Iolas' thoughts curse. Better yet he'll disappoint you somehow. A shaky breath leaves him and all he can do is blink and look at Lucio with watery eyes. "I-- I'm sorry please can you say that again." Iolas stops and closes his eyes just so he doesn't have to look at the ring that's almost blinding with its meaning.

Lucio's normal wolfish grin falters but only returns once he hears Iolas speak. "I said. We should get hitched, ya know?" Lucio sputters, shit. "Look. Like I was saying we're surrounded by losers, Pet. Who else am I gonna get to match me other than you huh? come on, look at me. Then look at you! we're perfect for each other.. ya know?" Lucio now looks nervous as he speaks. Unable to keep eye contact. ...and.. I love your laugh."

This seems to pull Iolas' from his fears a little even enough to get him to let out a weak laugh. "What? what does that have to do with anything?" Lucio pouts and glares at his lover just a tiny bit. "I love your laugh! and I don't want anyone else to have it. I deserve it, I get you to do it most and I think you owe me. So like.." Lucio ushers Iolas' to the ring, his legs are starting to buckle. "I wouldn't admit this to anyone else but my knees aren't what they use to be so can we--" Iolas stops him with a curt turn, his shoulders shaking.

The blonde stands suddenly, his whole body rigid. This was it. the rejection he warned himself about. He's ruined everything, his heart screams to go back. Iolas is probably laughing at the proposal and Lucio's tacky way of offering himself. It isn't until the sound of a stuffy nose echo through the silent night that Lucio realizes his lover is crying and instantly he steps forward a different kind of fear gripping his heart. " W-wait-- wait, why are you crying? You never cry--" He falters and fidgets his hands around his lover unsure if he wants to be held or not.

Iolas turns finally, his red puffy eyes are turned down in a grimace as they glisten in the dim light. "Yeah, you idiot I never cry and look at what you made me do." His tone is harsh but it's followed by a sad shake that ruins any intention of anger. "Lucio I... I don't know how to do this." Lucio's heart slows but he's thrown for a loop and Iolas can sense his confusion and clears his throat as he wipes his leaking eyes. "No one has ever, wanted me like this before. I don't know if I can-- How do you know you want this? What if I disappoint you? What if you get tired of me and regret ever meeting me? At least if we keep things like before you can just get rid of me if I'm too much and I won't have to--" Lucio stops Iolas this time as he brings his lover close by pulling on his crossed arms.

"You won't have to worry about falling in love?" The blonde answers with his own sense of sadness, his eyes looking down at their feet before meeting with Iolas' who only nods in response. Lucio is a bit thankful that his lover didn't outright say no and is at least contemplating the idea of things. "No I had the same thoughts and honestly I don't know how I'm sure. I just... am." Lucio's normal bravado comes back now that he feels more secure in the conversation. "I know that I love seeing you every day. I know that I love sleeping with you every night. I know that I don't want anyone else to hold you the way I hold you and I know that you feel the same way about me." At that the blonde swallows hoping he isn't wrong. "But mostly I know I don't ever want you to leave. If you were to leave, do you know how fucking boring this place would be? I would set the parlor on fire within minutes of you being gone." The cheeky grin is back and Iolas snorts at the idea and manages a smile as he is now fully embraced by his lover.

Lucio rests his head on the shorter man's head and hums, kissing the top of it. Slowly he pulls Iolas back so he can look down at him. "But it's not just about what I want... you kinda need to want those things too." Now it's Iolas turn to nervously look away and slowly as the shorter man's courage builds he tights his grip in Lucio's jacket and more tears fall down his face as the realization comes crashing onto him that he'd do absolutely anything to be with the man in front of him forever. Before He can answer he shoves his face into Lucio's jacket rubbing his head back and forth on the soft fabric. "You moron-- Of course I want all that."

The blonde can't resist the urge to tease the other man however and laughs to himself. "I'm sorry, could you say that again I couldn't hear you from inside my jacket." Iolas hits the taller man's chest with a laugh before he goes to wipe his damp eyes yet again. "You know for a fact that I said YES-- urgh, gods look at what you did to my make searing the hell am I going to fix this now--" Iolas' whining is stopped short by his lover picking him up in a searing kiss that continues as the blonde twirls them both. With a firm grip on Iolas' was it Lucio Looks up at the magician with a smile that could blind the gods. "I wanna hear you say it." Iolas rolls his eyes, a large pout crosses the silver-haired man's lips as he kicks his legs from his newfound lifted position.

"I have zero ideas what you're talking about--" Iolas protests but Lucio shakes his head. "Say it or you are never leaving this gazebo." Iolas is about to rebuttal but the look in Lucio's eyes is that yes he is serious. Iolas' expression softens, even if it's despite himself. "Of course I'll marry you, LuLu." Lucio bounces in his spot and spins the both of them once again but this time continues to spin around the whole gazebo till Iolas can't help but laugh and struggle against the crazy man holding him. "Stop-- Lulu Stop we're gonna--" but it's too late. Lucio's legs trip over themselves and with zero grace they both tumble onto the hardwood floor.

Iolas rolls onto his back and groans, dizzy and sore his eyes dart over to the man beside him who is just as dazed. slowly Iolas entwines their hands with a smile and Lucio is about to kiss his lover's fingers before he remembers the ring. The blonde springs forward, getting up like the fall meant absolutely nothing but Iolas takes his time sitting up as his lover fumbles to find the ring he dropped.

Soon as it's found Lucio slides over, the scraping sound of the fabric of the taller man's pants on the hardwood makes the magician giggle. Iolas has to give the other man sheer points for his enthusiasm. Pompously Iolas sticks his left hand out, to which Lucio plays along and kisses the other man's ring finger dramatically before slipping the large ring onto Iolas' hand.

Carefully Iolas' holds his hand out to the light and observes the sheer size of the ring and can't help but grin. Lucio practically radiates waves of anticipation on his lover's thoughts "Was this the biggest ring they had?" Iolas wiggles his fingers, acting as if he's unimpressed. Lucio simply feeds back into him. "How dare you." Lucio sneers, pulling Iolas into his lap as he sits, unable to be on his knees any longer. "I had this one custom ordered. Not only is it the biggest ring in stores, but it's also the biggest wedding ring, period." He speaks into the shorter man's neck before he kisses it, The count's tone never faltering while he speaks. This sends Iolas into a giggle fit. He knows for a fact that this ring physically cannot be the biggest but another part of him can see Lucio putting up a fight with store owners about the pitful size of their rings to the point where he just orders them to make him a whole new size.

"Of course, I knew my Lulu would only get me the best. He not capable of anything less." Lucio preens in the praise and Iolas strokes the back of his fingers against his lover's face. For a moment they stay like that, both of them processing what exactly just happened and what this means for their future. Iolas is the first to break the silence with a soft hum as he presses against Lucio's chest. "Thank you... Lucio." the taller man responds by nuzzling his nose into the shorter man's hair with a confused hmm. "I never thought I could do this... but for the first time, I'm not scared." Lucio smiles at that. and squeezes his lover in his arms.

"Good. We can both be fearless together."

💋 Who is the best kisser? (if you’d like write a short smooch scene!)

(I WILL TRY MY BEST TO KEEP THIS SHORT SINCE I JUST WROTE YOU A WHOLE FIC ON ACCIDENT ON MY LAST ONE)

The sound of wood creaking fills the otherwise quiet room as Lucio pushes his lover against the doors of his chambers. Lucio places on hand on the hip of the man under him and huffs a breath through his nose that leads to a soft moan as their lips bump against each other awkwardly for a second. Iolas snickers within the brief pause and pulls Lucio down by his collar. Now controlling their embrace the shorter man pushes the blonde backward and with a searing bite, he slams the count onto the disgustingly huge bed placed in the middle of his room. Breathless Lucio stares up at Iolas his bottom lip red and puffy from the bite, which only makes Lucio's slurry grin look even more dangerously attractive.

Iolas steps in between his lover's spread legs and uses one of his hands to tip the taller man's head back with a grunt. Lucio's hands wander over the man before him, knowing his place he doesn't try to switch their positions. He loves when Iolas gets pushy he knew if anyone could match him in greediness it would be his lover. Iolas however preoccupies himself with tracing his thumb over Lucio's red bottom lip till his nail presses a little too hard and draws just a few drops of blood to the surface of his lover's pale skin.

At the sight of this Iolas captures The count's lips once against and shamelessly sucks on the blood he just conjured. the kiss devolves as Iolas holds Lucio's head still with the grip on his hair and once the magician pulls back Lucio's face flushes at the sight of his blood dripping from his lover's lips. Lucio's voice comes out breathy and needy as he pulls against Iolas' grip on his hair. "Do that again."

[elsanna-shenanigans]

December Contest Submission #11: Cinnamon

words: ca. 4500 setting: mAU lemon: no cw: angst, anxiety, panic attacks, pajama cuddles (not for faint of heart), feet touch (in a gay manner)

A shiver ran down Anna’s spine as she quickly skipped across the hallway, her fuzzy socks slipping on the polished wood like skates on ice. Her head had two close encounters with the wall by the time she reached the destination–Elsa’s bedroom.

It was dark as hell in the hallway, so she could easily see the light seeping out from under the door. With no time to waste for knocking and waiting for an answer–and silently hoping Elsa was just reading or playing with her phone, and not doing something private that she should not see–she turned the doorknob and almost fell into the room.

“Anna?”

She shut the door behind herself and turned around to look at Elsa, who was, indeed, sitting on the bed with an open book in her lap, her brows furrowed in a mix of confusion and worry as she stared back at Anna over her reading glasses.

Without saying anything, she trotted over the floor, slowing down a little only once she reached Elsa’s fluffy rug until she almost flinged herself on her sister’s bed.

“Are you cold?”

Anna huffed irritatedly. “How’d you tell?”

Elsa reached to take off her glasses. “For one, you’re shivering and you have goosebumps on your arms,” she said, touching the tip of her–cold! Anna almost jumped–finger to Anna’s exposed elbow while she put her glasses away on the nightstand. “Two, you came in running here like a startled horse, and you had that little grumpy little baby expression.”

Anna pouted.

“Exactly this one.”

“Stooop,” she whined. Then she quickly swatted at Elsa’s hand as it was making its way to tickle her side. “Elsa! It’s not funny!”

Elsa giggled. “I’m sorry.” There was no hint of remorse in her voice. “I just thought that maybe a bit of physical activity could help warm you up.”

“More like physical torture,” Anna muttered, pulling her feet up to fold her legs on the bed. “Anyway, yes. I’m cold. I’m freezing, honestly.” She sighed. “It feels like maybe fifty degrees in my room, and the rest of the house is barely any better.”

It’s been a few months since they moved in together (after years of living apart, the pandemic of 2020 forced them to re-think the whole ‘independent living alone’ situation) to this lovely apartment in an old building, allegedly built in the early 1800s, a parting gift to them both from their late grandmother. The entire move took place at the beginning of August, when the Summer was still happily around, but not as hot as to make enough of an impact for either Elsa or Anna to notice anything odd–and with the following Autumn being very mild, it still never hit them something was very wrong until after the middle point of November.

Anna had been the first to notice. She’d been sitting in the kitchen pretty late at night, working on a very overwhelming project that made her completely lose track of time and space for a good few hours. Had it not been for the little burst of chilly wind on her neck, she’d probably have spent the entire night up.

Yes. Wind. Cold, frigid gust of wind through the soft hairs at the nape of her neck while she was sitting inside. At first, she’d thought it was a ghost–which she now could admit was maybe not the best assumption, but to her defense she and Elsa did spend the previous two weeks or so watching horror movies every evening.

So, naturally, she’d screamed in horror and ran out of the kitchen, zooming across the hallway to her room, where she’d hid under her covers for about two minutes before a very sleepy and confused Elsa appeared in her doorway.

They’d established it could not be a ghost–it took some time to convince Anna, though–and instead probably just a random little crack in some window frame that let in the cold air from the outside.

The random little crack seemed to be untraceable, though, and soon it had become very painfully clear they were instead dealing with isolation issues all over the place.

“Did you get an extra blanket?” Elsa asked, looking at her with that worry back in her eyes.

“I got three.”

“And you’re still cold?”

“Elsa,” she said–softly, lovingly, but with all the desperation of her aching bones, while she looked her sister deep in the eyes. “I’m not joking. It’s literally freezing in my room, and it’s only marginally better here and I have no freaking idea how you’re just sitting there like this.”

In an attempt to keep warm, Anna took to sleeping in a pair of those long, warm sweatpants and a hoodie, even though she hated the way they kept tangling in her three blankets to the point of her always ending up sleeping in some weird position for the entire night.

Meanwhile, Elsa was reclining against her pillows in nothing but a spaghetti strap silk nightgown.

“It doesn’t really bother me that much,” Elsa answered simply, shrugging with those bare, exposed shoulders. “I actually think the cold helps me sleep better.”

It took every ounce of willpower still left in her for Anna not to burst out laughing/crying at the same time.

Instead, she donned her best kicked puppy expression.

Elsa’s soft, vaguely worried expression turned to outright concern. “Is something wrong?”

“Can I sleep with you tonight?”

“Wha– yes?” It sounded less like Elsa agreeing, and more like her just wondering if that was even an option. “I mean– Yeah, you can. Will that help?”

Anna shrugged. “I felt a chilly breeze right on my head when I laid down in my bed tonight so I’m literally fresh out of other options. And it is a little warmer in your bedroom.”

Elsa nodded, then closed her book and put it next to her glasses, before patting the unoccupied side of her giant bed. “There’s plenty of room, so you can hop– actually, you probably want to grab some of your blankets. I only have this one.”

She held up her not exactly thick cover, as if to prove that it was of no use. With a deep, world-weary sigh Anna stood up and went straight for the door.

~*~*~

Less than two minutes passed before she barged back in with all of her necessities bundled up in her arms, then promptly went around Elsa’s bed to drop the heap on ‘her’ side.

“Really?” Elsa asked in an incredulous voice while Anna watched her pick up a plush seal from the pile. “You’re twenty-six.”

“And you’re judgmental,” Anna hissed back at her, snatching the toy away to put it next to her pillow. “It’s an anxiety thing.”

“It’s alright, Anna.” Elsa smiled. “I didn’t want to offend you. I’m sorry.”

Anna just huffed–too cold and tired to even think of a response–and laid out her blankets, then promptly jumped in the bed and burrowed. She let out a low, content grumble and heard Elsa laugh softly in response.

A faint scent of cinnamon tickled her nose.

It was… surprising how open Elsa could be, sometimes. She thought back to the tickle attempt earlier–which she was too grumpy to appreciate at the moment, but could now think over with a clearer (warmer) head.

When she’d first come to the conclusion that she’d have to move in with Elsa, mostly due to financial problems tied to the world pandemic, she was mortified. The last time she’d lived with her was when they were both still in high school, and after Elsa’s graduation they didn’t exactly keep in touch all that often during college or afterwards. Honestly, moving in with her sister was almost like a random lottery roommate–completely unpredictable and potentially devastating.

But Elsa was a blessing. Even though they were forced to spend almost all their time together, it almost never felt like they were in each other’s way–and when it did, it was usually Anna’s own fault. Elsa worked quietly, cleaned up after herself, took care of bills and utilities and even cooked for both of them, none of which Anna herself was exactly known for. Perfect roommate, and it turned out it was Anna who had something to live up to.

And of course now she had to breach another layer of intimacy because of the damned cold house.

“Here, you forgot about this guy,” she heard a soft whisper right after Elsa turned off her light, and peaked out from under her cover to see Elsa holding her seal out to her. She took it slowly, and briefly wondered if Elsa thought she was a nuisance and was just very good at not showing it. “Are you a little warmer now?”

She spoke to her like to a small child, and that pretty much answered Anna’s self-conscious question.

~*~*~

The next night, she tried sleeping in her own room, too ashamed to bother Elsa again. She woke up with a dull ache in her joints and blocked sinuses, courtesy of the damn little constant breeze blowing onto her head and shoulders.

Elsa would send her worried looks the entire day, sometimes asking her if there was anything she could do for her, offering tea, painkillers and even drawing her a hot bath to ease the pain. Really, she was too good to be true sometimes, definitely not the girl who left her at their parents’ place all those years ago without much of an explanation.

She’d refuse everything–aside from the bath–of course, at times resorting to say she’s ‘an adult’ and ‘can take care of herself.’

~*~*~

She lasted a week before she just couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Ah, I was thinking about you.”

Elsa was sitting in her bed reading a book, again, but this time she seemed to be prepared for Anna–the other side of her bed was left empty, clearly meant for her to put all her stuff in.

All the better, since Anna literally came with her entire sleeping equipment in her arms.

“How’d you know?”

Elsa smiled. “The forecast said it was going to be three degrees out tonight. I figured you won’t be able to just stubborn your way through that.”

Anna gasped in mock–okay, not exactly fully mock–offence. She walked over to the empty side of the bed and dropped everything to start crafting her nest.

Elsa watched her carefully, almost to the point of discomfort on Anna’s side, but she didn’t comment anything. Again, she picked up her seal and held it while Anna tried her damnedest to straighten out her pile of blankets.

As soon as she managed that, she jumped in the bed so hard she almost knocked the book out of Elsa’s lap.

“Here.” Elsa placed the seal–Anna really should give it some name–in her arms and went back to her book.

For a moment they were silent, Elsa reading and Anna just lying there, enjoying the warmth and cursing under her breath. Somehow, one of her legs was already tangled in the sheets. Her favorite t-shirt and shorts combo wasn’t exactly the best for this kind of weather, but sleeping in sweatpants and a hoodie was a logistical nightmare to someone who moved around as much as she did.

“It’s going to be about three degrees for a few days now, and then it’s only dipping lower,” Elsa said suddenly just when Anna’s eyelids started to drop and she was slowly lulling herself to sleep. “We really need to fix the windows in your room, you can’t just walk around the entire day like a zombie,” she continued with a sigh, and Anna felt a wave of fresh embarrassment wash over her. “Say, why don’t you just keep sleeping in my room until we can get it done?”

The wave turned into a tsunami as she nodded.

~*~*~

They managed to get a hold of a repairman that had some free slots for the next month. Their neighborhood was full of very old buildings, and it really was showing by how sought out good repairmen were.

So, the next few days were a torture. Her room was sealed shut, but the entire apartment got so cold over time that even Elsa would sometimes shiver hard in the night, something that would wake Anna up with a start. Half-asleep but concerned, she’d pull the covers up to Elsa’s shoulders, only to have to wake up and repeat it after a few hours.

She was lying now next to Elsa in the dark, trying not to make too much ruckus as she tried to rub her feet together without waking her sister up.

“Anna,” her voice was muffled by her covers, but Anna could clearly hear the annoyance. Normally, Elsa would try to keep most negative emotions out of her voice when she talked to her–something she noticed she very much did not do when talking with people in her Zoom meetings–but at about 2 a.m. she apparently couldn’t fight it anymore. “What are you doing?”

She asked the question in a softer voice, but there was still no mistaking how miffed she was at being woken up.

“I’m just…” she trailed off, not even sure if Elsa actually wanted to hear an explanation or just wanted her to stop, but after just a few seconds of her hesitation Elsa hummed expectantly for her to keep going. “My feet are super cold…”

Oh, that came out as a very pathetic whine. Not part of the plan.

Elsa sighed, then shuffled–she’d been facing the door with her back towards Anna, but now she turned to lie on her back, her bare shoulder almost brushing against Anna’s nose. She smelled really nice, a very festive mixture of cinnamon–her usual shower gel–and apple–her new shampoo–that somehow already made Anna feel warmer. She kept shuffling under the covers until suddenly Anna almost jumped when she felt Elsa’s fingertips on her hand.

“Come here,” Elsa whispered, retreating her arm and patting the bed somewhere next to her. “Under my cover. I’ll keep you warm.”

In the cold night air Anna’s face felt steaming.

“A-are you sure?”

Elsa nodded and turned back around, leaving the passage for Anna to slip her legs in until her feet touched Elsa’s calves. She heard a surprised inhale, and against reason Elsa shifted closer to her.

“Why did you take off your socks?” She said it over a yawn, and Anna felt really bad for keeping her up again. “Your feet are freezing.”

“I can’t sleep in socks.”

It was enough to try and sleep in pants. With socks, she only felt like she was capturing the cold next to her feet.

Elsa chuckled, and rubbed one of her own bare feet on Anna’s.

~*~*~

“What’s this?”

Anna looked curiously at the giant box in the hall. It was delivered while Elsa was taking a shower, and Anna’s been waiting for her to finish almost buzzing in her seat with the need to know.

“Oh, I didn’t think they’d deliver it so fast.” Elsa was still drying her hair with a towel, dressed only in a thin tank top and sweats while Anna sat there in a giant plush robe wondering how in hell was her sister not just a giant cinnamon-scented icicle. “It’s a space heater.”

Anna’s eyes lit up.

“I figured you might use one in your room.”

“Oh.” That instantly dampened her enthusiasm, though. Over the past days she’d really grown accustomed to sleeping with Elsa–she was surprisingly warm once she started dozing off, and with every night Anna would snake her way a little closer. First it was just her feet leeching Elsa’s heat, then her legs, and when Elsa didn’t seem to mind she actually migrated almost entirely under her cover. Last night she was even able to finally sleep in a t-shirt and underwear, as god intended. “You want me to sleep in my room tonight?”

She didn’t actually mean to say that, especially not in this broken of a voice, but it was out before she could bite her tongue. Elsa’s eyes grew wider and Anna prepared for impact.

“Jesus, no!” Elsa looked like she’d just said the stupidest possible thing. “I meant that for sometime in the future when we fix your window. It’s minus four tonight, we might actually need to use this thing in my room first.”

Anna could only hope her face didn’t show how elated she was.

~*~*~

She came to Elsa’s room that night to find the bed set neatly–Elsa could really be a little of a pedantic freak sometimes, who the hell sets their bed every night–and Elsa standing in front of her TV, shuffling through videos on YouTube.

“Hey,” Anna said quietly, sitting down on Elsa’s side of bed with folded legs. Elsa murmured a greeting back. “What are you doing?”

The frustrated shuffling stopped for a moment. “I’m trying to find a– oh, this one looks nice! Turn off the light, please.”

Anna looked at her in confusion, but she reached over to the bedside lamp and tapped it gently. For a moment they sat in the dark as the video Elsa chose buffered, but then a warm, orange glow filled the room.

“A fireplace?”

The fire crackled happily on the screen. “Yeah, I thought it might be a nice ambience for sleeping,” Elsa chirped, which was very unlike her, while she bent down and– Anna had to turn her gaze away. Looking at her sister’s lace underwear was probably more than she could handle at the moment. “Especially combined with this.”

A soft hum followed right after and the ever-present, soft scent of cinnamon intensified–then Elsa moved out of the way and a wave of warm air hit Anna straight in the face. Elsa had to literally haul the heater into the room on her own while Anna was bathing.

“It does fit nice,” she admitted, looking into the flames and enjoying the warmth. “Almost like a real fireplace.”

Elsa climbed on the foot of the bed and crawled over to her on all fours, and suddenly there was more heat on Anna’s face and her mouth was dry. “You used to say you wanted a fireplace when we were kids,” Elsa said, shimmying on the bed until she was sitting next to her. “You had to be…five or six, and you’d keep saying you wanted to live in a cottage so that you could have a nice fire going every night and sit there with a cat in your lap, quote unquote like a witch.”

Anna laughed nervously and moved out of the way to let Elsa under her cover.

“And this is obviously nowhere near a real fireplace, but…”

She locked eyes with Elsa, and the orange glow of the TV made her irises look a fiery, sparkling purple. They were only a few inches apart, so close she could actually feel Elsa’s soft exhale blow over her own nose. Anna’s heart beat fast in her chest, fueled by some very odd and unwelcome emotions. “T-thank you,” she managed out through a clenched throat. Elsa really tried. She really, really tried, not only tonight but all the days before, pushing her own boundaries to accommodate Anna in her bed and it finally hit Anna just how much she had to love her.

And in this same, orange-glow filled, cinnamon-scented moment it also hit her how much she loved Elsa.

“Are you alright?”

Elsa’s face was concerned. Worried. Let down? Shit, she thought Anna didn’t like it.

“Y-yeah, I’m just– I’m super tired. I love this all, Elsa, thank you,” she repeated again just to make sure there was no mistaking how grateful she was for Elsa’s thoughtfulness, and something sank in her stomach at the sight of Elsa’s absolutely delighted smile. “Can we sleep?”

Elsa nodded and moved the covers away.

If not for the orange light, she would probably get worried again at Anna going absolutely white at the sight of her blankets spread nicely under Elsa’s cover.

“I figured this would be easier,” she said as she slid under and patted the space next to her. “You roll up into this tight ball every night before you fall asleep and then crawl under my cover anyway, so I figured this way you’ll be warmer.”

Anna gulped down the stone in her throat. “Y-yeah, sure.”

“We can even cuddle if you get cold. There’s supposed to be a blizzard tonight, so lots of wind.”

As if on cue a strong gust of wind rattled Elsa’s window and managed to get partially through, right onto Anna’s back. The surprised yelp and violent shiver at least let her hide how absolutely mortified she was with the idea of soft cuddles under the blankets with the fireplace glow.

Elsa pretty much pulled her under the blankets after that, and even tucked her in lovingly before lying down next to her–facing her, lord have mercy–and letting out a tired sigh.

“Goodnight,” she whispered, reaching out blindly to touch Anna’s cheek.

That one soft gesture sent a jolt down Anna’s spine. “Goodnight,” she answered, and she hoped that Elsa would pin the shaking in her voice on the cold gust of wind. Had she always felt like this? There had been a time in her life that Elsa was everything to her, but it was more like…younger sibling idolizing the older. Elsa had been her role model and her best friend, but after her high school graduation she just– Stopped. She wasn’t there anymore, busy with college, then busy with post-grad, then busy with work with no time to ever even visit. It seemed the only Anna ever heard from her was postcards and short birthday phone calls.

In that time she made herself at least pretend to resent Elsa for leaving her behind. She could never actually hate her, but the anger she felt was raw and it was at least better than grief.

But this Elsa– the Elsa that moved in with her, she was the same but she was different. The last time she actually saw her, she was a shy teenager with huge glasses and nerdy sweatshirts, always in a messy braid. When she saw the absolute glow-up Elsa went through, how beautifuller with emphasis on fuller she was, she did have to take a moment to collect herself.

Did she feel like– like this then, though? She was shocked, yes, but was she–

She looked up at Elsa’s calm, gorgeous face.

Was she–

This absolutely wonderful, sweet woman who literally had to take care of her because she was a fucking child that couldn’t even make sure to eat properly. The woman who would wake up half an hour early just to make her some chocolate chip or blueberry–or both because Anna was a mess–pancakes just because she knew it would make her happy. Who would randomly come up behind her and stroke her hair when she saw something was making her stressed, and it was the best way to calm her down.

Was she– Could she–

All of these little acts of affection that Elsa thought were innocent– that were innocent on her side and Anna has apparently been corrupting them in her depraved mind this entire time.

Was she in lo–

“Anna, what’s wrong?”

She opened her eyes to see Elsa look down at her with actual fear in her eyes and she realized she was shaking violently in her spot with no idea how much time had passed while she was spiraling. Her muscles were flexed and aching, jaw clenched so hard there was ringing in her ears. She was coiled in on herself like a tight spring.

“O–” she started, but her tongue felt like lead. “O-Olaf?”

Fear mixed with confusion. Then, suddenly, it changed to understanding. “Your seal?” Anna nodded. “It’s right here.”

She reached above Anna’s pillow and pulled Olaf out from where he was wedged, then softly placed him in Anna’s waiting hands. She immediately gripped him hard and curled up on her side, eyes tightly shut for fear of seeing her sister’s face.

“It’s okay,” Elsa’s whisper was breezing through her hair. “It’s fine, babygirl, I got you– d-do you want me to hug you?”

No, please, don’t. She nodded. I’m disgusting. Elsa enveloped her immediately, surprisingly strong as she pulled her closer to her chest. I don’t deserve to touch you. She burrowed her nose between Elsa’s breasts and inhaled.

Cinnamon.

She had no idea how long Elsa held her like this, her hand gently caressing up and down Anna’s bare arm, legs intertwined with Anna’s. She was planting soft kisses to the crown of Anna’s head. “It’s okay, baby, it’s alright,” she kept murmuring in between the kisses like a mantra, and with time it wasn’t even the words Anna was listening but just her voice, her breathing, the rhythm of her heart.

Her own was still racing when she spoke. “I’m s-s-sorry.” The words, already stuttered and slurred, came muffled out against the bare skin of Elsa’s chest.

“No, don’t be,” Elsa whispered hurriedly, not making a single move to pry her away. Even though she should. Anna should not be allowed to be anywhere near– there. “It’s my fault, sweetheart.”

What?

“I– I got overexcited and did things too fast,” she continued and if it wasn’t so hard for her to speak now, Anna would have shouted in disagreement. “I wanted to make things nice for you. I thought it would be– and then I saw how overwhelmed you were and I knew I messed up, and I– shit, I should have thought to give you Olaf earlier.”

Elsa remembered her plushie’s name.

“Do you want a tissue?” At first she didn’t understand the question, but then she realized she was crying. Heavily. Elsa’s chest was soaked.

She pulled away to try to answer–

Fuck, Elsa was gorgeous.

The glow dimmed considerably by now, but she could still make every detail of her face. Her big, round eyes. Her parted lips. The way she was looking at her with worry, but also pure adoration.

Anna wasn’t exactly thinking straight. She was very far from any remotely intelligent thought, her senses overwhelmed by cinammon. At a complete loss of the ability to speak with so many things to say.

What she couldn’t say in words in her state, she instead said with her lips on Elsa’s.

In the next second it dawned on her, and she immediately wanted to pull away and apologize, but Elsa held her in place with her hand on Anna’s stupid head.

They didn’t make out wildly like they do in the movies. It was a soft, tender and slow kiss. “It’s okay,” Elsa whispered against her lips in a few minutes. “It’s okay, baby.” She locked their lips again, a little firmer. “I understand.”

Four and a half thousand words all died on Anna’s lips, brushed off with Elsa’s tongue.

It was the explanation. It worked, for now at least, as she lay cradled in her sister’s arms, trading feathery kisses in the orange glow of their fake fireplace. In time, Elsa’s hand moved from her head to rest around her waist, keeping her warm and secure in place as she promised her we’ll talk tomorrow and it’s alright now, love.

And a tiny voice in her head, so small she could barely hear it through the shouts of self-hate, said that maybe.

That maybe it was going to be alright.

[is0gild]

Ice Cream and Fire Oven Pizza - Bonus Chapter 6

Pairing: Elsa x Lea/Axel || Side Pairing: Riku x OC

Summary: Modern AU. She's an introvert ball of nerves who works at Ice Palace, a mall food court ice cream shop. He's the outgoing, sassy goofball who works at the Pizza Planet across the way. Hilarity, snark, and fluffy romcom hijinks ensue.

Word Count: 9,761

FIRST CHAPTER || PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

Credit for super friggin’ cute and super friggin’ amazing cover art goes to the super friggin’ talented ky-jane here on tumblr!

Ice chips.

A whole paper cup full of them.

This was my current mission. My purpose. My whole reason for existence in this one very specific moment in time.

For if every wholesome, family-friendly sitcom from the 90s were to be believed, ice chips were like crack to women in labor - they just couldn't get enough of the stuff.

Why? No one knows, least of all me… okay, maybe doctors knew but if they did, not a single one had yet to clear up that little mystery for me.

The why didn't really matter anyway. All that mattered is that Rayne wanted them. And what Rayne wanted, Rayne got.

Especially when she was about to shove a brand new tiny person through her body and out into the world any second now.

...at least, in theory anyway.

I thanked the attendant at the nurse station and turned with the freshly secured cup of ice chips in hand, heading down the hospital wing back in the direction of Rayne's room in the delivery ward. As I hurried along, I anxiously ran my free hand down my frazzled braid, grimacing at all the little wisps coming loose before shifting to smooth my fingers along my rumpled dress that I'd been wearing since yesterday. Turning one last corner, my eyes immediately went to Rayne's door-

-only to be brought up short by the sight of fluffy, squishy, huggable reindeer plushie nearly twice my size already waiting politely outside it.

Well there was something you don't see every day.

It only took me a second to spot the shoes poking out underneath that had to belong to whoever was holding the thing from behind where I couldn't see them. I squinted.

I knew those shoes.

With a tiny, tired smile, I put one foot forward once more and approached the giant stuffed caribou with a lightly teasing, "If you're looking for the North Pole, you're off by about a couple thousand miles, Prancer. Or is it Blitzen?"

"Har, har. You're an absolute riot," came a voice from the other side of the massive doll. Though I couldn't see the eye roll, I could distinctly hear it in his tone.

Shaking my head with a soft snort, I dug my phone out of my pocket to check the time. "...1 p.m. already? Can't believe she's been in labor for nearly twenty-one hours." Twenty-one extremely long, extremely sleepless hours for the mother-to-be, not to mention all her loved ones here to support her. Tucking the phone away once more, I told him, "Thanks again for covering my early shift, I really appreciate it. Hope it wasn't too hectic of a morning over at the Ice Palace."

"Hey, don't mention it," Kristoff poked his blonde head up just over the plushie's shoulder. "If it's a choice between the two of us, it's no contest: Rayne'd much rather have you here with her than me." He paused, eyeing the closed door leading into her hospital room with a tiny frown. "...so, still no baby, huh?"

"Still no baby," I sighed, then tipped my head to one side. "Care to explain the reindeer? I didn't even know we made Svens in this size."

"We don't," he shifted his hold on the thing for a better grip. "We got a small batch to try and sell as a test run last year, but no one was really buying 'em. Still had a couple stowed away in back just gathering dust, so got the okay from Frozone to steal one for welcoming the new little Hewley into the world."

A grin pulled at my lips, "How sweet. I'm sure Rayne will love it." I then quirked an eyebrow at him. "...why were you just standing outside with it anyway? You know you could have just walked on in, right?"

His gaze darted to the door once again, then back to me. "...is the yelling still happening?" he whispered with a nervous little wince.

Now it was my turn to roll my eyes as I deadpanned, "It's the beautiful blessed miracle of life, Kristoff. Rayne's allowed to yell as much as she wants. Now come on, there's already one baby on the way, we don't need you being a big old second one." With that, I reached for the door knob, pushed it open and made my way inside.

And straight into the madhouse that was Rayne's hospital room.

"You did this to me, you bastard! I'm gonna KILL you for this, you smug son of a bitch!"

Ah, and there was Rayne now, shrieking her head off.

To be fair, if you'd been in labor for nearly a full day now, you'd probably be shrieking your head off too.

"Yes, hon."

And that'd be Riku, the absolute picture of patience and composure as he smiled lovingly through the abuse, both verbal and physical as Rayne's death grip just had to be murder on his hand right now. But he was soldiering through it like a champ.

Huffing and puffing, Rayne spat, "Don't you 'yes hon' me with that stupid, sexy, annoying, beautiful, infuriatingly perfect little grin of yours, pal! When I'm through with you, you won't have anything to grin about!"

"Yes, hon," he chuckled softly, gently sweeping a few of her messy bangs out of her face before pressing a light kiss to her sweaty temple.

"Oh-ho, no! None of that!" she snarled, narrowing her eyes at him. "It's stuff like that that started this whole damn mess, jerkface!"

"Yes, hon."

We were all handling being included in this special moment in Rayne's life a bit differently, each doing what we could to keep her happy and distracted from the contractions. As could be seen, Riku was doing his part by being a flawless model husband/punching bag combo. Sora-

"What does every moogle need in the morning?"

Sora was trying to make her laugh.

"A kup-o coffee!"

...and was doing a rather poor job of it.

As Rayne stared blankly up at him, Sora gave a tiny sheepish laugh from where he stood at the foot of her hospital bed as he scratched the back of his head. "That one was a dud, huh? Okay, okay, how about this one? What do moogles use when they go shopping? ...Kupons!"

More crickets from Rayne. This time accompanied with an unamused little eye squint.

Undeterred, Sora smiled brightly and held up his hands, "Wait, wait, I gotta million of these! What did one cactuar say to the other? ...looking sharp! What does a cactuar wear to a business meeting? ...A cac-tie!" Why did the chocobo cross the road? ...he was going for a wark!"

His new rapid fire approach did not seem to be helping matters.

"Alright, no, hang on, I'm gonna get you with this one for sure! You ready? Okay… Knock knock."

Rayne's eye twitched. Patting her hand, Riku obliged his cousin with a sigh, "Who's there?"

Barely able to contain his glee now, Sora replied, "Interrupting chocobo."

"Interrupting ch-"

"BWARK!" Sora crowed in delight.

The expecting mother-to-be looked just about ready to hurl the beeping heart monitor at him.

"Look, Ray, look!" Kairi suddenly chimed in, swiftly coming to her boyfriend's rescue as she shoved her phone in Rayne's face. For her contribution in keeping Rayne's mind off the pain, Kairi had elected to sit in the bed with her to provide cuddles and hundreds upon hundreds of pictures of adorable baby animals. "Aren't these little piggy-wiggies the freaking cutest?"

Frowning at the screen, Rayne said flatly, "...they'd look even cuter in the form of crispy bacon on a bun slathered in barbecue."

Kairi gasped in horror, snatching her phone back to hug protectively to her chest, "Not the piggy-wiggies!"

"Sorry, Kai, but I'm starving and they won't let me eat a damn thing until this little bundle of joy gets the hell out of me," she grumbled back.

She pursed her lips to one side, swiping her thumb across the screen several times now, "Guess I'll skip these pics of baby cows and chicks and- you know what? No farm animals at all, how about that?"

Sora was now sidling up along one side of the bed opposite to Riku, both hands covering his face as he went.

Oh dear.

One could only assume this was leading up to his latest attempt to get a laugh out of her and I was almost dreading how the next couple seconds would unfold.

"No frowning. No sad face. Okay?" he muffled out from between fingers as he blindly inched closer to Rayne. "This birth runs on happy faces, so ya gotta look funny… like me!" He suddenly threw his hands out wide to reveal he was wearing a pair of gag glasses, complete with a comically large plastic nose and mustache. "I-"

Rayne yelped in surprise and socked him in the stomach.

Yup. That'd gone about as well as I'd expected.

And correction… it seemed the role of punching bag would now be played by Sora.

Quite literally.

Eyes growing round as she clasped both hands over her mouth, Rayne said, "Oh god, Sora, you okay? I'm so sorry, but you scared the everliving crap out of me!"

"No, no, it's fine," he wheezed out a chuckle, doubling over and clutching at his gut while Kairi shot him a sympathetic pout as she rubbed his shoulder. "You're bringing a new little life into the world, so you get a free pass!"

Smothering his snickers behind a hand, Riku shook his head at him, "Where did those ridiculous things even come from?"

"These?" Sora held up the gaudy spectacles. "Saw 'em in the hospital gift shop and thought everyone might get a kick outta them."

"Or at least a punch," Kairi teased, sticking her tongue out.

Kristoff and I hadn't been spotted yet. Sensing an opening as the rest of them devolved into light laughter, I was just about to insert myself into the conversation when-

"Beep beep, coming through! Move it or lose it!"

Jolting, I just barely jumped out of the way in time to narrowly avoid getting steamrolled by Anna as she suddenly came charging into the room. Her arms were stacked so high with hospital pillows that she couldn't really see past them, so I suspected she had no clue that she'd just beeped-beeped her own sister.

Yesterday when we'd been racing our way back to Twilight Town, I'd called Anna to make sure she'd heard the news that Rayne had gone into labor. Since we still had had several hours left on the road to go yet before we'd be back and I'd been worried about missing the birth, I'd wanted to make sure that Anna could at least be there in my stead. However I discovered I needn't have even asked, for my sister had already been burning rubber out of Arendelle to get to Twilight Town herself even before I'd called. Thankfully we'd arrived with time to spare - plenty of it, as it was turning out. And bonus, I'd been getting to personally witness Anna's own unique brand of pitching in... that is, by doing anything and everything in her power to make sure Rayne was as comfortable as humanly possible.

Which to Anna apparently meant stealing every last pillow in this medical institution to offer up as tribute to Rayne.

"Ta-da!" she chirped as she dumped the tiny mountain of cushions onto Rayne's bed with a big, delighted grin. "I'm back with a whole friggin' variety this time, so pick your poison! I got soft ones, firm ones, big ones, small ones, some as big as your- you know what? Do you wanna go with all of them? Let's go with all of them! Sound good? Good!" With that, she began gently but eagerly stuffing them one by one behind Rayne's head.

"Anna, sweetie… do you think we're maybe approaching the point of too many pillows here?" Rayne delicately asked, shifting her back slightly against the already substantial collection behind her that Anna had managed to amass in the past several hours.

She wrinkled her nose with a snerk, "What? Nonsense, there's no such thing as too many pillows! And I think you'll be singing a different tune once you get a load of this puppy here," she proudly held up and fluffed a particularly plush looking pillow. "This right here is the Holy Grail of hospital pillows! I earned this bad boy too! Had to throw down with some greedy, wrinkly old fart who was trying to horde all the good bedding for himself!"

"Let me get this straight… you beat up an elderly old man and stole his pillow?" Riku gave her a dull look.

"I didn't beat him up! Just… got in a bit of a tussle, that's all," she brushed off with a tiny shrug. At all the blank stares she received, she huffed, "What, he was crotchety and mean and fought dirty, kept whacking me with his cane! The old coot friggin' deserved it!" She turned her head away with a razz of her tongue before her face lit up once more. "Besides, nothing but the best for the soon-to-be mommy, isn't that right, Ray-Ray?" she cooed as she fondly tucked "the Holy Grail" of hospital pillows (which was the last of her latest haul from all her ransacking and pillaging) behind Rayne. Then she clapped her hands together, "Now! Be right back with more in a jiff!"

Before Anna could dash off again however, Rayne snagged her wrist with a hasty, "No!" As my sister glanced back at her, Rayne winced and lowly hissed her way through what looked to be another contraction before blowing out a relieved puff and exhaustedly chuckling, "The thought's appreciated, sweetpea, really, but try as you might, I just don't think we can quite cram the hospital's entire supply of pillows in this one teeny room."

"But-"

"Ah-ah!" she interrupted her protest, holding up a finger. "Trust me, I'm good. 'Sides, if you keep going at this rate, soon there'll be no room left on the bed for me."

The corners of Anna's lips turned down in a tiny sulk. "I suppose you're right," she hung her head as her hands smoothed over Rayne's bedsheets, flattening any wrinkles. Then she froze mid-gesture, face brightening once again as she looked up with a delighted little intake of breath. "I can get you more blankets! So many blankets! All the blankets!"

"What?! Anna, no, I'm not even-"

But my sister had already blurred out of the room with nothing more than a quick, "Hi, Sis! Bye, Sis!" to me. She didn't even acknowledge Kristoff. Don't think she saw him behind the caribou.

"...cold," Rayne finished with a defeated sigh. Then she seemed to notice me for the first time. More specifically, what I was holding. She immediately perked up, "Ah, there she is! C'mere, oh Great Bringer of Ice! My Ice Babe, my Ice Queen, my Ice Goddess!" She stretched out her arms towards me, making grabby hands. "Gimme!"

Ah, my role in keeping Rayne happy.

Which if it hadn't been obvious already, that greeting should have just made it abundantly clear.

This was actually my first time being present for the birth of somebody's child. And if I was being totally honest here, I had to admit that the experience did make me a bit awkward and anxious. Gussy it up however you like, but the "miracle of childbirth" was some animal kingdom nonsense that I'd normally rather take no part in. It was all just so... er… messy. But this was an important day for Rayne and I wanted to be there for her. Which meant I just had to do what I did for all important things that made me awkward and anxious.

I let it go and did them anyway.

Taking in a breath to quell my jittery nerves, I braved a smile as I approached her bedside and held out the cup which she greedily snatched up. "Got it back here as quick as I could, hopefully it didn't have a chance to melt too much."

Popping a few frozen chips into her mouth, she closed her eyes with a contented hum. "Ahhhh, that's the stuff! You always treat me right, boo! Keep the good shit coming."

"D'aw," I grinned softly, reaching out to lightly pat her cheek, "you make me feel like I'm your drug dealer."

"Don't act like you don't like it," she crunched down on the ice with a cheeky little wink before digging a few more out of the cup to slip between her lips. Then she looked past me and went stock still. She blinked once. Then twice. Then, "...um?"

I glanced back to realize she just now seemed to be noticing the comically large, dopey reindeer in the room. How she hadn't spotted it sooner was beyond me. In any case, I cleared my throat and stage whispered, "Pssst… Kristoff!"

"Right." Taking that as his cue, he started jauntily bouncing forward with the thing, making it do a floppy little jig in the process. Remaining hidden behind the colossal doll the whole time, he adopted a deep, goofy voice to speak for the plushie, "Hello, my name is Sven and I'm gonna be your new lil gal's bestest friend! I'll make sure to give her all the snuggles and huggles and wub she'll ever need!"

For a second, Rayne's expression was unreadable as she just continued to stare at the thing's big, silly face. Then she burst into tears.

Fudge, was this a good crying or a bad crying?

With all the drastic mood swings she'd been experiencing since labor started, it could really go either way at this point.

Everyone began to scramble. Riku was murmuring softly to her as he caressed her cheek, Kairi was frantically trying to pull up what she was claiming to be an absolutely adorable picture of a dog and duck that were besties, and Sora was desperately shooting off lame, punny jokes so fast now that the punchlines were getting all jumbled and mashed together into pure gibberish. However it all turned out to be unnecessary as Rayne suddenly wailed, "Oh my god, I love him!"

Whew, okay, this was a good crying.

False alarm, people, stand down.

"Really?" Kristoff stuck his head up from behind the deer, flashing a lopsided smile.

She nodded her head vigorously, sniffling. "He's perfect for our baby girl! And good news! You've officially just been hired as our full-time nanny!"

He gave a bashful chuckle as he found a corner to deposit Sven in, "Shucks, you don't hafta-" But then he stiffened as her words really sunk in. "Wait, what?"

"Yup! Don't worry, I'll talk to the Ice Palace for you so they'll work your shifts around it. Ah, we're gonna have the happiest kid in the whole wide universe now that she's going to have her own talking, dancing, prancing reindeer to play with every day!" she clapped in glee.

"Every-" Kristoff spluttered and paled. "Now hang on, I never agreed to any of-"

"Da-dun da-dun! Candygram!" a new voice loudly sang out. We all turned to discover Lea now standing in the doorway, grinning like a madman with his arms loaded down with junk food. Way, way too much junk food.

"Good lord, where on earth did all that come from?" was the only greeting he got from me as both eyebrows shot up my forehead.

He shrugged, grin somehow defying all odds to stretch even wider. "Raided the nearest couple o' vending machines and picked the things clean. Hope all you boys and gals are famished cuz tonight we feast like Candyland kings! And you get a chocolate bar!" he tossed one to me, which I fumbled to catch before sensing Rayne's gaze narrowing on me and I hastily hid it behind my back. "And you get a chocolate bar!" This one went to Kristoff. "And you and you and you!" Sora, Kairi, Riku. "Annnnnd…" Lea stopped mid-throw to Rayne, smirking as he retracted his hand. "...not you cuz the Doc said that was a big fat no-no for you, Missy! Guess that just means more for me," he smugly singsonged as he made his way further into the room now.

Nostrils flaring, Rayne growled, "You are such an asshole, Red."

"One," he struck up a finger as he unceremoniously plopped down into a chair against the wall opposite of her, letting all the sweets pile up in his lap, "that's just part o' my roguish charm and you know it. Two, you said a naughty word." He tsked with a shake of his head as he began to peel the wrapper off a Snickers. "Now is that any way for a young lady who any second now is gonna be responsible for molding a young, impressionable mind of our future generation should be talking?"

"Fuck off," she spat out.

"That's more like it!" he laughed, toasting her with the candy bar before heartily taking a bite.

And this, my friends, is how Lea was doing his part to help distract her from the pain.

By being a royal pain in the butt himself.

Fighting fire with fire, as it were.

"Mm-mm-mm!" Lea hummed, putting on a show of enjoying his snack a little too much. "The way that chocolate just melts in your mouth and mingles with all that sweet caramel and peanuty goodness… golly, would I hate to be anyone who's not allowed to eat right now," he slyly broke off another piece between his teeth as he eyed Rayne.

She mutedly worked her jaw for a moment. Then in a dangerously low voice, she said, "Sorry, Elsa, but I'm sending your boyfriend to an early grave."

"Please don't. I'm actually rather fond of the little troublemaker," I snorted as I made my way over to him, quick to smother his mouth with my hand even as he opened it to spout off something else that would surely only tighten the proverbial noose even further around his neck.

I anticipated the little kiss he pressed to the inside of his palm. What I didn't anticipate, however, was him simply taking hold of my wrist and yanking my down into his lap (a rather awkward seat, mind you, considering I was sharing the space with all that candy) where he hugged me tightly, pinning my arms to my sides in the process so I could no longer silence him. Nuzzling his nose to my cheek, he then turned his head to regard Rayne once more as he chirped, "Just consider it incentive! Think about it: the sooner ya squeeze that kiddo out, the sooner ya get to throttle me! Now lessee here, where was I…"

Releasing his hold on me, he retrieved another bar from the heap, tore it open and chomped down. "Mmm… Almond Joy? More like Almond Nirvana! Seriously, this is too good. Raindrop, wanna bite?" he held it out towards her, giving it a little wiggle with an impish gleam to his eyes.

Pretty sure I could see a vein bulging on her forehead for a split second. Then she tried to lunge straight for him and it was only thanks to the combined efforts of Riku, Kairi, and Sora holding her back that she stayed put in her bed.

It seemed Lea was playing his part a little too well.

"Lemme at him, I'm going to murder him!" she snarled as she fought against all the hands restraining her.

"Ah-ah," Lea waggled a finger at her - a finger I hastily grabbed and forced him to lower in a futile attempt to keep him from antagonizing her further. "What did I just tell ya? Baby first, then murder."

Rayne's lips parted, a particularly nasty retort surely on the tip of her tongue, but then she sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth as it appeared another contraction wracked her body and she bellowed out wordlessly instead.

As if her howl was a summons, a new person suddenly came bustling into the room with a chipper yet soothing, "Hello, I am Baymax, your personal healthcare companion."

Mind you, I was using the term "person" in the loosest sense of the word. Baymax here was actually a robot of some kind, though a rather odd one at that - I usually didn't picture robots as big, round, soft and inflatable. Then again, this was the first robot I'd ever met, so what did I know? It seemed it (he?) was some sort of prototype on loan to the hospital, making rounds in the role of a nurse as a sort of a test run to see how viable mass producing more like it (him?) might be.

The future is now, apparently.

"Yes, yes, so you keep saying every. Damn. Time that you come in here," Rayne panted out in reply to the bot, her grip firmly squeezing Riku's hand once more.

"On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate your pain?" Baymax asked amiably as he began to lift her blankets to check how far along she was while the rest of us discreetly averted our eyes.

She huffed out a bitter noise that may have been some crude approximation of a laugh. "Trust me, we left ten in the dust hours ago."

"Good news" Baymax announced, still in that mellow yet upbeat tone he seemed to be programmed to never deviate from as he settled her bedsheets back into place. "You are dilated enough now to begin the birthing process. I'll page Dr Finkelstein so we can get started right away."

"Oh thank fucking god!" Rayne cried out.

Baymax turned to address the rest of us, "If everyone besides the father-to-be could please vacate the room and give us privacy, it would be most appreciated. Thank you and have a nice day."

As the rest of us quickly filed out of the room into the hall, I could spot Anna turning a corner down the way, her arms bursting with blankets now as she sprinted at full speed. Her gaze widened slightly when it landed on us and as she skidded to a halt, she asked, "What's going on? What happened?"

"I did it!" Lea chuckled triumphantly as he handed her a Butterfingers, which she bemusedly accepted. "I shit you not, I actually did it! I managed to annoy that baby outta her!"

"Huh. We really would make a cute lil anklebiter, wouldn't we?"

I blinked, taking my eyes off my phone screen to glance down at Lea instead. "...pardon?"

The two of us had laid claim to a row of chairs in the waiting room that were sans armrests and pushed together to form a makeshift bench of sorts. I was currently seated in one on the end with Lea sprawled out across the rest of them, using my lap to pillow his head. Looking up from his own phone, he showed me his screen. "Got curious and put our photos in one o' those 'what'll our baby look like' websites. Just lookit this adorable lil fucker."

I was greeted with the sight of a computer-generated yet still rather life-like picture of a little boy. He had short hair that was platinum blonde like mine, as well as my blue eyes, but favored Lea's more sharp angular facial features, especially in the nose. "He is rather cute," I grinned, one hand pocketing my mobile while the other gently stroked his wild hair. Nibbling on my bottom lip, I hesitated for a heartbeat. Then, "...what brought this up?"

Retracting his arm and turning his phone back towards himself so he could stare at the picture once more, he shrugged. "I dunno… Raindrop and Riku's lil squirt's gonna be here any minute… Mom made that comment 'bout the two of us making a kid…" He paused and shrugged again. "Hard not to get curious what with all that baby fever going round right now, I s'pose."

"You think about that kind of stuff?" I tipped my head to one side, my finger idly singling out one of his crimson spikes to fiddle with in particular. "You want children?"

"Well yeah," he laughed, tucking his phone away as he sat up, now only occupying the seat beside me. Grinning sheepishly as he rubbed at the nape of his neck, he added, "Not anytime soon, of course. But one day somewhere down the road with the right person? Definitely."

The corners of my eyes crinkled. There was absolutely zero doubt in my mind that Lea would make an amazing father some day. His words did sort of beg a certain kind of question however. One that I wasn't really sure I was ready to hear the answer to one way or another. Still, as I lowered my gaze to where my hands were fidgeting together in my lap, my face warmed as I couldn't seem to help but ask, "And do you… see me as the right person?"

Lea reached over, engulfing one of my hands in his and weaving our fingers together, rubbing his thumb over my knuckles. I lifted my gaze to meet his and he smiled softly, "Maybe… yeah, I'd really… really like to think you could be." He used his free hand to tentatively sweep some of my bangs behind my ear, his palm lingering against my cheek. "...is that okay, El?" he murmured.

He was worried his answer might freak me out, make me feel pressured. And to be fair, it was the type of thing that probably normally would have. However, it wasn't a cold panic I felt seeping into my chest now, but rather a pleasant tingle, tiny but warm. I leaned into his hand, covering his fingers with my own as one corner of my lips turned up and I gave a small nod, maybe surprising us both a little bit as I whispered back, "Yeah, that's okay."

His grin stretched to the point of threatening to split his face in two. Then he leaned down to kiss me soundly, resting his forehead against mine after he drew back.

Personally, I'd never before really pictured children in my future. Not that I had seen myself not having any, but I hadn't particularly seen myself having them either. It just hadn't really been something I'd thought much about, to be honest. And it didn't help that like I said, the whole process of childbirth made me a bit squeamish. But now… thinking about the prospect of maybe one day having them with Lea…

...sounded like it might be nice.

But that was still years and years and years away, trust me.

Still… it was a pleasant possible future to think about.

A deep yawn suddenly overtook Lea and he gave a massive stretch before slouching further down into his seat, slinging an arm around my shoulders and tugging me into his side. "Yeesh, it's been almost two hours now, what is taking that kid so damn long? I've heard of showing up fashionably late, but baby girl is really pushing it."

His yawn was contagious for I found myself doing the same as I reached for his hand. Absently toying with his fingers, I hummed a tiny laugh, "Maybe she stopped to pick up a latte on her way here."

"Well then, that kiddo better come outta Raindrop with a cardboard to-go tray bearing enough coffee for everyone."

I smiled drowsily, but made no response. Seated across from us, I could see my sister cozied up with Kristoff in another pair of seats, quietly chatting and giggling. As for Sora and Kairi, they were off grabbing a bite in the cafeteria. We'd decided to go in shifts so that there would always be someone in the waiting room in case news came at long last. Lea and I had been the first pair to go, with Kairi and Sora being the last.

As the hospital speakers paged a Dr Sweet to report to surgery, Lea piped up again, "Ya know, a lil caffeine infusion might not be a bad idea. The hospital coffee here is shit, may as well be piss for all the good it does. Once the kid's made her grand debut at long last and we can finally split, I was originally thinking we'd head back to my place to catch some Z's. But how 'bout instead we swing by Lucky Cat for some quality bean juice so we can get a jumpstart on moving your stuff over?"

"Move my stuff?" My brow furrowed and I turned my head to look up at him. "...where's it going?"

Lea blinked owlishly at me. I blinked owlishly right back. "Didn't we…?" he began slowly, then groaned, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. "Shit, I haven't actually brought that up to you yet, have I? Maybe I really do need that nap." His hand shifted down to scratch at his cheek now, "But c'mon now, El, think… the kid's almost here."

"Uh-huh," I nodded.

"And she's gonna need a place to sleep," he went on.

"Of course." Obviously. I wasn't exactly sure where he was going with this.

He looked at me pointedly. "...in a nursery."

I quirked an eyebrow. "Right." Still lost here.

His eyelids drooped. "Babe... your room's the nursery."

I just stared back at him blankly, not saying anything at first as my brain took a minute to churn over his words.

A rather long minute.

Give me a break, I'd been awake for close to thirty-four hours straight now.

But finally it clicked.

I gasped, "I need to move out!"

"There it is," he snorted, his hand rubbing my back.

"Crud, in all this flurry of baby chaos, that part completely slipped my mind." I was on my feet in an instant, hands wringing my braid as I began pacing back and forth. "Fudge, I'm entirely unprepared for this! What am I going to do? Where am I going to go?" I stopped momentarily, looking at Lea. He opened his mouth to respond, but I was already furiously pacing once more, muttering, "Well, not entirely unprepared. I of course knew this was coming, already had some of my things packed, been on the hunt for a new apartment, I have, I really have! You know I have!" Again I paused. Again his lips parted. Again, I resumed my patrolling without giving him a chance to speak, "But there's nothing lined up yet! Gah, the baby wasn't supposed to be due for weeks, I was supposed to have more time! But now there is no more time and… and…" I came to a halt once again, face hardening and shoulders squaring as I tapped the side of my fist into my palm with a firm nod. "Time to revisit the whole living in a box idea!"

Did I mention the whole thirty-four hours without sleep thing?

"Woah now, hang on! No one's gonna be living in a box," Lea hopped up with a chuckle, hands going to my shoulders and giving them a squeeze. "Doubt the new happy family would kick ya out just like that and make you homeless, they'd work something out for ya while you looked for a new home." Now his eyes darted to the left as he softly cleared his throat, "There's... another option though that, ya know... I'd like to think is slightly more appealing to all parties involved…"

I cocked my head. "There is?"

"Yeah." He took both my hands in his, holding them to his chest as he beamed, "Move in with me!"

"Move in with…" I echoed slowly, trailing off as I stared up at him.

Processing… processing…

I gasped again, "Oh no! No, we shouldn't- That's isn't- I couldn't possibly do that!"

"Aw, why not?" he pouted.

"Moving in together is a big step, Lea! A huge decision! One we definitely shouldn't be making spur of the moment like this, not to mention when we're both delirious from lack of sleep! There's so much to consider, so much to think about!"

He used the hold he still had on my hands to pull me to him and wrap my arms around his waist, freeing up his own arms to hug me instead. "What's there to think about? You're already practically living with me anyhow, you stay over almost every night as it is. I'd love to have you there, Bruni and Marshmallow would love to have you there… it's three against one, El, you're outvoted."

I drooped my eyelids up at him. "The dog and salamander don't get votes."

"You'll hafta take that up with them once you're all moved in and settled," he pressed a quick peck to my forehead before flashing a cheeky grin. My expression remained unamused and he snerked, "C'mon, is it really such a big deal? We were just talking 'bout having kids. Compared to that, the idea of shacking up together seems like small potatoes!"

"Yes, theoretical kids in a theoretical future. Me moving in with you is very real and very right now. We haven't even been dating for five months yet, that's way too soon to be living together."

Lea shrugged, "And you were with your ex for five years before almost tying the knot with him and we all know how that ended. Who's to say what's too soon and what isn't? All we can do is what feels right, and this feels right… doesn't it?"

...it actually kind of did.

Damn him, it did.

It didn't help that those beautiful green puppy eyes of his were murder on my resolve.

But my stubbornness flared and I hastily looked away. I wasn't ready to relent just yet and I weakly scrambled to maintain my defense, "But… it's just too soon, Lea. It hasn't even been a year yet, we haven't even… celebrated all the big holidays yet!"

Even as I blurted it out, it sounded lame even to me.

But it was the best I could come up with, dammit!

His eyebrows reached for his hairline and he fought a tiny smile. "...so just to be clear here, it's important to you that we observe all the major holidays in a calendar year together before making any further life-changing decisions."

I hitched my chin with a lofty little sniff. "Yes. Yes it is."

This was the hill was I choosing to die on, apparently.

"Duly noted," he glanced towards the ceiling with a tiny shake of his head before settling his gaze on me once more, eyes crinkling. "Fine, let's not call it moving in together then, call it… a temporary solution."

"...temporary?" I turned my head slightly, giving him some dubious side-eye.

"Mm-hm! Face it, babydoll, even though we both know Raindrop and Riku will be more than happy to accommodate ya, it's still gonna be a tight squeeze with all four of you in that tiny ass apartment while you're searching for a place. Wouldn't it just be more convenient for everyone if temporarily," he reiterated for emphasis, "you stayed with me instead just until you've found your new home? You know there's more than enough space for you and your things at my digs."

I tucked in my bottom lip. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation talking, but darn it, he actually seemed to be making a lot of sense. Still, I hesitated. "...I don't know what to say."

His eyes lit up. Great. Now the big dork knew he was winning. Hugging me more tightly to him, he grinned, "That's simple: say yes."

I squinted up to him, pursing my lips to the left. Then to the right. Then, just as I was slowly opening my mouth to speak-

-a throat suddenly cleared nearby.

Like, really nearby.

Both Lea and I tensed before turning our heads to discover none other than Saïx standing not two inches away from us looking quite perturbed.

To be fair, Saïx usually looked perturbed. It just seemed to be his face's default setting. But this was more perturbed than usual.

Lea quirked an eyebrow at him, but grinned, "Hey, big guy! Ya mind? Kinda in the middle of something here."

"And I do so hate to interrupt, truly," he said flatly, his cold unblinking gaze locked on his brother, "but I fear we have a rather pressing matter to discuss that cannot wait."

His eyebrows knit together. "...which would be?"

Saïx's hard stare was unyielding. "Do you think there is quite possibly something you may have forgot back at our mother's house?"

Cocking his head, Lea seemed even more genuinely confused now. Clearly racking his brain for a couple seconds, he then shrugged with a small shake of his head, "Like what?"

"ME, you DOLT!" Saïx snarled, slugging Lea in the shoulder hard enough to force a pained grunt out of him.

I inhaled sharply through my nose, eyes widening.

There was no way we'd actually-

We couldn't have honestly-

We didn't-

...did we really?

I thought back to yesterday, though it was a struggle to remember a clear picture through the fog of grogginess. Had Saïx been in the car with us on the trip back? Had he not? Try as I might, I just simply could not remember one way or another. But I suppose it could be (and in fact was) completely possible, especially considering Lea had had Saïx's car keys and I had had his code to start the engine.

In our state of panic and rush to get out of there, had we really just totally spaced on the fact that we didn't have him with us?

"Oh gosh, Saïx, I'm so sorry we left you behind!" I bemoaned in horror.

Lea laughed, "Relax, El, don'tcha know that with me as your boyfriend, that makes everything my fault? You're off the hook, I'm the only one he's mad at."

"He's right, I don't blame you at all." Although Saïx was talking to me, his irked gaze never left Lea. "You're not the one who forgot your own brother."

No, I just simply forgot a whole person. For a whole car ride. In his own friggin' car.

Elsa, Queen of Memory Lapse.

"Bah, I didn't forget ya, I just… thought you were in the backseat the entire time being really quiet!"

That earned Lea another punch to the arm.

Giving an annoyed huff as he rubbed his knuckles, Saïx asked with a bit less bite to his tone now, "I presume since I find you all still here at the hospital, the child has yet to be born?" At our silent nods, he moved to the nearest set of empty chairs and sat down with a soft huff, crossing his arms.

Huh. Guess he was going to join us for sharing Rayne's and Riku's joy in this blessed event.

I gingerly took a seat next to him, Lea plopping down in the chair on my other side. As his arm wrapped around my shoulders, he piped up with a huge smile, "Got some good news that I think'll clear up that black rain cloud hanging over your head there, Mr Grumps McSourpuss: El's moving in with us!"

My back stiffened and I whipped my head around to narrow my eyes up at him, "I haven't said yes yet."

Saïx was eyeing me oddly from the corner of his peripheral. "...you mean you weren't already living with us?"

"There ya have it! Saïx's official stamp of approval! Now ya gotta say yes," Lea beamed, smoothing his hand up and down my arm.

My eyelids drooped. "...one, in what universe was that even remotely a stamp of approval? And two, no, I don't 'gotta' do anything, least of all say yes."

"But you will," he winked at me, pressing a kiss to my cheek. Then he was looking past me towards Saïx once more, a thoughtful frown twisting his lips. "Hey… since we jacked your wheels, how'd you even get back here?"

Saïx fixed him with a dull stare. Then he shifted his crossed arms more tightly against his chest, closed his eyes and hitched his chin. "...wouldn't you like to know."

Lea snerked. "I would in fact, thus why I asked."

"What's that inanely childish saying you do so love to spout of? ...that's for me to know and you to find out?"

"C'mon, man," he groaned out. "This is gonna bug the crap outta me now until ya tell me."

One corner of his lips cruelly curled up. "I know."

Apparently, Saïx was swift to enact his vengeance when the need arose.

A tiny scowl emerged on my boyfriend's face, but before he could shoot off whatever acerbic retort he undoubtedly already had locked and loaded, I stopped him with a touch to his arm as I said, "Lea." He glanced down at me and I nodded towards the far corner of the waiting room. "Look."

He followed my gaze to a familiar woman with silver hair pulled back into a ponytail made of several tiny braids and the same green eyes as Lea. Aranea apparently was not aware that we had just noticed her, for she was too busy inspecting the selection available over at the hospital's coffee station with her nose wrinkled.

"Ah," Lea breathed, gracing his brother with a mildly sour look. "That's how ya got back. Ya bummed a ride outta our old lady."

Saïx said nothing, just continued to stare stoically straight ahead.

Blowing out a breath that made his lips flap, Lea turned his eyes towards his mother once more. A heartbeat of hesitation. Then making a sound that was half growl, half sigh, Lea muttered. "Be right back. Ma and I have some unfinished business." I smiled softly as he planted a smooch to my temple and I gave his hand a quick squeeze before releasing it as he stood up.

I watched Aranea perk up as she spotted Lea approaching. They exchanged a few words that I was too far away to hear, her grinning the whole time, him ruffling his fingers through his hair as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Then it seemed they decided to find somewhere else to have their talk for they then walked out of the waiting room.

Off to a good start at least, it seemed. Letting go a tiny exhale of relief, I glanced over at the chairs across from us once more to where Anna sat as I considered possibly shifting over to a seat near her. But seeing as she was currently otherwise, er… occupied with, hrm… inspecting Kristoff's tonsils with her tongue, I decided against it.

Ugh, gross, I did not need to see that.

Instead, I turned my attention to Saïx. My lips parted and I took in a breath to say something, but then I hesitated and clamped my mouth shut, staring down at where I was fiddling with my fingers in my lap. Then I cleared my throat, looked over at him once more and tried again, "Would it... really be okay with you if… if I decided to move in?"

His eyes flicked over to me briefly without turning his head. Then releasing a nearly inaudible sigh through his nose, he stared straight forward once again. "I consider you among a small, select handful of people I can tolerate and would even go so far as to say enjoy the company of. If my asinine fool of a brother has against all odds actually managed to persuade you somehow into agreeing to move in with him, then by all means, your presence on a more permanent basis could only be a considerable improvement on our day-to-day lives around the apartment." He paused and for a second it seemed that was all he had to say on the subject. Then then added a bit more quietly, "Besides, you make my brother happy. Far be it from me to stand in the way of that, even if I wanted to."

A small smile tugged at my lips. "...he makes me happy too."

Saïx gave a low hmph at that, closing his eyes. "I would hope so. Otherwise, what would be the point?"

On that note, the conversation ended. As he seemed more than content to remain in a companionable silence, I reached over the seat Lea had vacated and towards the little table on the other side, plucking up one of the outdated magazines provided by the hospital from it and slowly began flipping through its pages.

A short while later, I heard a door opening and I glanced up to see that Lea and Aranea were walking back into the waiting room. Neither one looked like they wanted to murder each other, so I took that as a good sign. In fact, they almost, almost seemed somewhat chummy.

I set the periodical aside and both Saïx and I rose as they approached, which prompted a chuckle from Aranea, "No need to get up, I'm not staying. Just wanted to give my other knucklehead kid one last hug before hitting the road," she embraced Saïx, which he accepted as stony-faced as ever. Then she turned to me with a sly little smirk, "Plus I hear congrats are in order."

My eyes blinked. "...they are?"

"Course! You two lil lovebirds are gonna be living together soon, after all!"

I twitched, then shot Lea a flat look. "I haven't said yes yet."

He grinned, stepping closer to take my hand and bring it up to his lips. "Key word there: yet."

Oh-ho, he thought he was being cute. Even as I opened my mouth to prove just how wrong he was however, Aranea suddenly snagged me into a bone-crushing bear hug as she chirped, "Take care, shortcake!" She gave me one final squeeze before releasing me to rest a hand on my shoulder, "And if either of my boys give you any trouble, you gimme a call, I'll be only too happy to knock some sense into 'em!"

Smiling, I nodded, "Thanks, I'll be sure to do that. Have a safe trip back."

Lea received a hug from her as well and though he returned it stiffly, it was remarkably warmer than the one they'd shared yesterday in the foyer of her home. With that, she made her way towards the exit, waving goodbye to us over her shoulder before disappearing through the door.

"I take it you two are getting along now," I said to Lea as I settled into my chair once again.

He took a seat too, stretching his arm out along the backrest behind my head. As his fingers began to idly toy with my braid, he pursed his lips to one side in thought. Then, "Ya know how you and your folks 'get along' now?" he brought up his other hand to form air quotes. At my nod, he said, "Well, it's kinda like that. We're… gonna work on it."

I reached for his hands, lacing our fingers together as I told him gently, "I'm glad you decided to give her a chance."

"I think I am too," he admitted, albeit somewhat begrudgingly.

Just then, the same door Aranea had left through opened once more, Sora and Kairi being the ones to step through this time, laughing over something they'd been talking about. It seemed their timing was impeccable, for that was also when the double doors on the other side of the room parted and in walked a very familiar white, inflatable robot. All of us immediately zeroed in on him and were on our feet in an flash as he greeted us with, "Hello, I am Baymax, your personal healthc-"

"Yeah, yeah, we know all that already, get to the good part, you giant balloon!" Anna hastily cut him off, rolling her eyes. "Do you actually have anything new to tell us? How's Ray-Ray doing?"

"The delivery was a success," Baymax announced, managing to sound almost pleased somehow despite there being no actual change in the mechanical tone of his voice. "Everyone is happy and healthy. The new family is ready to accept visitors and have welcomed you all back to their room."

There was a mixture of whoops and relieved sighs all around before all of us, Saïx included, followed the robot as he led the way past those doors and towards the maternity ward. Not a minute later found us all crowding back into their hospital room. I spotted Riku first at his wife's bedside, facing her so his back was to us. As for Rayne, she looked absolutely exhausted and like she'd been to hell and back twice, but she positively radiated pure joy and love for the little bundle I could now see her holding in her arms. As she looked up at our entrance, she proudly beamed and said, "Everyone… I'd like you to meet Aria."

"...and Cayde," Riku added, smirking as he turned around to reveal he was cradling a second baby.

"TWO?!" Lea gaped, wide-eyed gaze darting back and forth between them while the rest of us were too stunned to even speak.

"That's right! Two!" Rayne chirped in delight.

Sora was the next one to find his voice, only to blurt out, "Twins?!"

"No, we liked the first one so much, we decided to randomly steal a second one from one of the other cribs when no one was looking," Riku deadpanned before snorting with a shake of his head. "Of course they're twins, doofus."

"But you never said anything about twins," Anna was already adopting a baby voice as she approached Riku, wasting no time making funny faces at Cayde.

Gently rocking little Aria as Rayne watched her fondly, she said, "We didn't know. No one did, not until Cayde shocked us all by showing up hot on the heels of his big sis. Guess the doctors missed him during all those check-ups and sonograms somehow."

"How do they miss a whole other baby inside of you for months?!" Kristoff shook his head in disbelief.

"Who knows, but it's not unheard of. We're not the first couple this has ever happened to." Glancing over to Cayde, Rayne grinned as she reached out a fingertip to tickle the underside of one of his tiny feet. "...he was a surprise, that's for sure, but a happy one."

"I'll say!" Kairi giggled, stepping forward to gently squish Aria's cheeks as she cooed, "This just gives Auntie Kairi and Unkie Sora twice the niblings to wub, doesn't it? Doesn't it? Yes it does!"

"Speaking of which… Kristoff." The man in question stood up straighter as Rayne suddenly locked eyes with him and told him in no uncertain terms, "We're gonna need a second reindeer."

He dragged a hand down the side of his face and sighed. "...I'll talk to Frozone."

Rayne crinkled her nose as she hummed a soft laugh, then her eyes landed on me as I approached her bedside. "Oh, Elsa, there was something I… we," she amended, exchanging a glance and a tiny nod with her husband, "wanted to talk to you about… we'd absolutely love it if you'd be the twins' godmother."

The finger I was waggling at Aria froze as my gaze widened and snapped up to meet hers. "Who, me? Really?" By the look in both the new parents' eyes, they were serious. Dead serious. "Oh! Why, uh… yes. Yes of course! I'd be very honored," I smiled.

"And Sora," Riku chimed in now, causing his cousin to pause mid-sticking his tongue out and crossing his eyes at Cayde. "We were hoping you'd be their godfather."

Sora blinded us all with his signature huge, thousand-watt grin. "Absolutely! I'm gonna make the best godfather ever, you'll see! I- wait…" His brow furrowed and he gasped, whipping his head around towards me now with a slight look of panic. "Does… does that make us... god-married?"

"Yes. It does."

And who was it, one might wonder, to deliver that answer in full earnest and with a completely straight face?

Saïx.

That's right. Saïx.

Which is probably why Sora took him at his word and didn't even think to question it. Nostrils flaring and with a steely look of determination now, he informed Lea, "I promise to take good care of her."

Not missing a beat, Lea nodded firmly, "You better, lil man, otherwise I will end you."

I elbowed my boyfriend in the gut, forcing a wheeze out of him. As everyone else sniggered around us, I sighed, "No, Sora, that doesn't make us god-married, it doesn't make us god-anything."

"Oh good! Whew!"

At that point, conversation for the most part subsided in favor of everyone trying to squeeze in to fawn over the new babies. After a minute of this, I decided to take the opportunity to snag Lea (dragging him away from playing with Aria's "widdle toesy-wosies" - his words, not mine) and pull him off to one side of the room away from the others. They hardly even noticed us stepping away, so enamored were they all with the little ones.

I faced him, holding both his hands in mine as I took in a deep breath and released it before uttering a single word. "Yes."

His face immediately lit up, but he quickly schooled his expression and cleared his throat, asking casually, "Yes? Yes what?"

Ugh, he knew very damn well what, he just wanted to hear me say it. Rolling my eyes but unable to fight a small grin, I said, "Yes, I'll move in with you. It just makes sense, after all, now that they have twins, there's even less room for me in their apartment and-"

I didn't get to finish that sentence as he smiled fiercely and grabbed my face, planting a firm kiss to my lips before laughing as he hugged me, picked me up and spun me around.

"Temporarily," I insisted, arms instinctively latching around his neck to steady myself.

"Yeah, yeah, of course, temporarily," he agreed, putting me down while still grinning like an idiot.

I poked his chest a couple times, "I mean it. I'm going to keep looking for my own place and the second I find something, I'm moving right back out."

"Whatever ya say, babydoll!"

Funny thing is though…

...I never did end up actually moving out.

Author's Note: MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS! Hope you all enjoyed the millions of teeny references I sprinkled in - my aesthetic, as I'm sure you're all aware at this point xP (My fave was something Lea said towards the very end, did you guys catch that it was a reference? I hope so :3) Regarding Sora's lil stand-up comedy act, I unfortunately cannot take credit for any of his material - I just googled a bunch of Final Fantasy jokes xD I can't even take credit for the cactuar jokes for even tho I couldn't find any ACTUAL cactuar jokes out there on the internet, I just googled cactus jokes instead xD And yes, there are IN FACT cactus jokes out there, and a LOT of them lawl! And woo, Lea and his mom made up… sort of! xD Sorry that happened off screen, part of it was I thought it wasn't a conversation that Elsa would really be present for, part of it was I didn't want to take focus off the main points of this chapter, and part of it was I was just too lazy to write it at this time xD Maybe I'll go back at a later date and write a Lea POV chapter for this lil chat with his mum, we'll see! But for now, at least we got a lil closure on that front! And aaaaahhhhh, our ice and fire bbies are taking a big step and moving in together, yaaaaaay! :3 I knew that was definitely a relationship milestone I wanted to cover in one of these bonus chapters and this just seemed like a fun way to bring it about xD

The next one-shot is set during Christmas time! Which I know, lil late, should have posted it today xD But I'd kinda locked myself into the baby chapter with the way the last chapter ended and the babies are born in September, so couldn't combine them into one chapter xD So consider next week's update just a bit of a belated Christmas present! And I'll say this about the next bonus chapter: It's gonna be pure crack xD Trust me, there will be no substance whatsoever, it's just mindless silliness and slightly scandalous and mildly salacious (but still 100% family friendly… ish... haha!). Basically, if PG horny hijinx doesn't interest you, you might wanna skip the next chapter xD You've been warned!

Thanks for reading, I super duper appreciate it! And an extra BIG thank you to those of you who’ve liked, reblogged, and followed so far, seeing those lil notifications always brings the biggest, goofiest smile to my face!

FIRST CHAPTER || PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

[consumedkings-archive]

ancient names, pt. xvii

A John Seed/Original Female Character Fanfic

Ancient Names, pt xvii: what the wolves taught me

Masterlink Post

Word Count: ~6.9k  

Rating: Explicit.

Warnings: mentions of gore and blood, like a LOT of mentions of blood, mentions of self-harm, shower sex without Reasonable Protection, also like kind of dubious if you squint because John is tripping, bad decisions are made as well as some questionable dirty talk (John really likes that she beat a man to death). Elliot kind of has like one (1) tiny power trip. Idk man just like proceed with caution??

Notes: A little bit of an interlude chapter, this one! Last chap was a bit intense, so this one's more of a transition--not a lot happens in terms of plot movement, so everyone can go ahead and catch your breath. ♡ As always, a big and huge thank you to everyone who reads and comments, has come and said hi to me on my tumblr. This fandom has been so incredibly lovely and welcoming and just understanding of my general chaos and my inability to bend to canon at all. I'm just so grateful to each and every one of you! Thank you thank you thank you!

Big thank you to @shallow-gravy for lending me their eyeballs and for making me this GORGEOUS moodboard for Elliot. When I say that I like died inside when I saw it, it's because my life became complete and I was ready to ascend. Thank you so much!!

And of course my angel @starcrier, my lover my life my shawty my wife, who proofreads all my garbage even though she doesn’t even go here but she goes here for me! ILY ♡

As always, I hope you enjoy and thank you again!  ♡

John felt pretty good, all things considered.

Yeah, he was probably going to feel like shit when came off of his high; yeah, kissing Elliot did smear blood all over his mouth, but when he spotted the two of them in the reflection of the truck’s dark windows, Elliot’s face and hair splattered in crimson and the very obvious incrimination on his mouth, he thought, well, don’t we make quite a pair?

Everything blurred and pulsed pleasantly around him now as he sat in the passenger seat of the truck. The crash of the drug wasn’t really much of a crash at all—idly, John wondered how it was they got the downturn to be so easy, so slow, so mild. Each time he took in a breath it felt like the car expanded with him. There wasn’t anything the world, in that moment, that wasn’t for him, not a single thing that didn’t sway and pulse and beat in time with the rhythm of his own heart.

Except for Elliot. When he looked at her, red sparked off of her in violent waves to their own metronome, mimicking the dashes of crimson on her face and in her hair; the bruises welled red and blue along the pillar of her throat, her jaw, one on the corner of her mouth. She looked wild; her eyes moved with a sharp clarity that had him wondering how long that Wrath had really been sitting inside of her.

Not a good girl, he thought, watching Elliot drag her thumb from one end of her mouth to the other, wiping the blood their liplock had smeared around. He could still taste it in his mouth. Not anymore.

You couldn’t be good and bash a man’s skull in, could you? And it was bashed in—John had gotten one single good, long look at Kian’s face, and there was nothing of it left except bloody mush and two battered eyeballs barely stuffed into his skull. Gruesome. Well past the point of killing him.

“They attacked the compound,” Jacob was saying from the driver’s seat, pulling out onto the highway with a not-so-kind lurch as they hit pavement. “About an hour after you took off. I bet they were waiting. Fucking cockroaches.”

John glanced into the rearview mirror. He meant to look and see if he could catch any movement in the trees—anything that wasn’t Eden’s Gate—but he just looked at Elliot. Sharp-eyed, bloodied, fingers knotted into Boomer’s fur as the dog lay with his head in her lap. It wouldn’t have done any good, looking back there; everything was moving. Everything was breathing.

“Drugged me,” he offered helpfully, his tongue feeling a little too big for his mouth. Jacob looked at him through the sides of his eyes and hit the cruise button. “Got a radio back, too. I tried calling you guys, but—”

“But not Elliot,” Jacob said, less a question and more a confirmation of what he believed to be true. John shrugged idly.

His eldest brother glanced back at Elliot then, but she was silent for two heartbeats longer than what it should have taken for her to answer before she replied, “Wouldn’t have been fun for him if I was.”

“Yeah, well,” the redhead muttered. “You sure made...” His voice trailed off, and his eyes fixed on the road again. “... Work of him, didn’t you, deputy?”

Elliot sighed. That Jacob said you made work instead of you made quick work made John painfully, delightfully aware of how many times and how much effort it must have taken for Elliot to cave Kian’s face in, and that knowledge writhed pleasant and desirous in his stomach.

But Jacob didn’t sound pleased. John supposed that he wouldn’t be, all things considered. Kian was dead, sure, but the rest of the Family had almost certainly scattered like rats to whatever corner of Hope County they could reach. They would be a problem. By now, they were all supposed to be hunkering down in the bunker to outlast the End Days, and instead, they were contesting with an entirely different pest.

Maybe Elliot was right; maybe without Ase and Kian, they would just leave. Go and kill some other tiny town of people. Get their skin melted off by the nuclear war.

In fact, if John really thought about it—and it did take work—he didn’t think that the Family was much of a problem at all anymore. The only thing that remained questionable, and up in the air, was Elliot herself.

My wife, he thought, his brain ticking and idling like an engine cooling down, wading through the neck-high water of his thoughts. Each leap from one thread to the next felt sugary-slow. Little killer, aren’t you?

He didn’t think that she would be content with hunkering down in a bunker. That would take some time to warm up to, probably—and, John reasoned, he would have to first broach the subject of their legal binding. But that was another problem, for another time, and right now all John wanted to think about was getting home and enjoying his high while he had it.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

When Elliot was very young, she remembered coming across a snake coiled on the hot pavement of the path up to their front door. It had been after school; her mother had had the windows of the kitchen open, playing an old song, something about a dream, and she could hear it from all the way down at the road. The snake was basking—drinking in the sunlight, mottled in shades of brown and copper, flecks of white highlighting the prettiest parts of it. The snake had been a dream to a girl who ran wild and barefoot through every inch of the Hope County wilderness she could reach; the speckled pattern begging for a touch, it’s elegant coil beckoning for attention.

The window to the kitchen had been open, and the second her mother had seen her staring at the snake, she’d come sprinting out the front door. Her mother had never liked any kind of animal that didn’t have four legs and wouldn’t fall under the “fluffy retriever” category, so at first, she had thought it was just her mother’s aversion to the scaly members of the animal kingdom; but after her mother’s insistent shrieking that she give the rattler a wide berth on the way up to the front steps, she’d thought maybe it was actual danger worrying her mother.

Of course, Scarlet had called the sheriff’s office and immediately demanded someone come and get rid of the snake (even though you weren’t supposed to call the sheriff’s office for that kind of thing, there was animal control) while she made herself a vodka soda.

“He’s pretty, mama,” Elliot had said, staring out the window at the snake. “Did you see his spots?”

“Pretty.” Scarlet had never sounded more displeased. She squeezed her lime into her drink, muttering furiously. “All those spots mean that ugly thing would kill you with one bite, bunny. Do you hear me? Venomous. Stay away from it.”

Now, sitting in the back seat of an Eden’s Gate truck, her face mottled with a dead man’s arterial spray, she felt like that prairie rattler, her spots belying a poison and vicious bite.

Pretty, she thought tiredly, combing her fingers through Boomer’s fur. Pretty venomous.

Her gaze drifted absently, away from the landscape blurring past them as Jacob cruised back to the compound and instead onto the occupants of the car. John was leaned back in his seat, eyes fluttering shut occasionally like he couldn’t keep them open very well, and Jacob had a tight grip on the steering wheel. A pack of cigarettes sat in one of the cupholders in the center console, and she reached for them on autopilot.

Jacob’s gaze flickered down to her hand snaking between them. For a second, he looked like he’d been about to grab her hand, like maybe he thought she was trying something—but his fingers stayed on the steering wheel, and he said, “Probably a lighter in the console.”

Elliot snagged the cigarettes and then fished around in the console until she found the lighter. The cotton fabric of Ase’s high-necked dress felt sticky on her skin, like she was in the middle of a summer storm; chill seeped down into her bones, and her skin bloomed feverish, and she thought this is when the crash happens, but it didn’t hit. She lit a cigarette and rolled the window down before she took a drag and felt the tiredness pull at the corners of her vision.

The song from her memory played on a gentle loop in her head. Leisurely, lulling. So dream, when the day is new; dream, and they might come true. Her mother had listened to that song so many times, growing up. She wondered, briefly, if her mother was alright. If she’d gotten out. If she’d gone with the resistance and fled, or if she was still here somewhere, or if she was dead.

“Anyone get hurt?” she asked after a minute. “At the compound?”

“A few,” Jacob replied. His eyes narrowed. “None dead, though.”

Elliot exhaled smoke out the window. She thought she would have felt dirty, now, sticky with Kian’s breath and his fingers and his mouth against her skin—but she didn’t, not right away. She just felt—

“Sure that’s disappointing for you,” Jacob continued.

—tired.

“Eat shit, Jacob,” she muttered. “I just solved your biggest problem.”

“No, you didn’t,” he snapped back. “Not by a long fucking mile, deputy.”

The redhead eyed her through the mirror, but she didn’t say anything to that—and for the rest of the ride back to the compound, it was blissful, empty silence.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

John thought he must have certainly fallen asleep in the car, because one second he was blinking through Jacob talking about how the compound had been attacked, and the next they were parking.

The compound looked a little worse for wear, but it was quiet; if not for the bullet holes in the walls of buildings, and the occasional blood spray dried nearly black with time, he wouldn’t have known anything was amiss at all. He would have thought it was a regular evening—but was far from it.

At the very least, John felt a little clearer now. His high was slowly cruising down, and he’d probably feel all of his bruises once he sobered up, but for now he buzzed.

Jacob climbed out of the driver’s seat beside him, and his body operated on autopilot to do the same. He saw Boomer drop from the truck and stick his nose to the ground instantly, eyes wary and waiting to see if any danger still lurked. When Elliot’s feet touched the ground, the Heeler did a single loop around her legs and then nosed her hand.

“John,” his brother said, his voice clipped. “Chapel.”

“Right,” John replied. He glanced over his shoulder and then looked at Elliot; she took in a little breath and waved her hand.

“Gonna shower,” she told him. “I’m good.”

John reached for her, fingers itching; Elliot caught his wrist before his hand could land on her shoulder, or her face, but she used it to pull him closer, and then she kissed him—leaned up and pressed her mouth, tasting like wild copper and a little like ash, against his. John’s brain fizzed white static and he sighed against her kiss, and he was reminded of how electric she had felt back there in the forest with the buzz of her kill still sitting under her skin.

“John,” Jacob insisted, louder this time, “now.”

“Okay,” John said, but he said it into the kiss, sliding his hand from Elliot’s grasp. “Okay, I’m—”

And like that she had pulled away from him; she whistled for Boomer and set off across the yard for the bunkhouse, and he turned and forced his legs to move towards the chapel. I’m good, she’d said. What did she mean? What did “good” constitute?

His brain felt too muggy for him to contemplate whether or not he was spiraling on a thought because it had some other meaning or because he was high, so he just pushed aside as he walked into the chapel, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Joseph was there, sitting beside Faith; their heads bowed in silence, only disturbed when the sound of his and Jacob’s footsteps echoed in the quiet.

“You’re safe,” Joseph said, sounding relieved. As John came closer, his older brother lifted an arm; beckoning him, and he went instantly. Joseph’s hand cradled the back of his head and pressed their foreheads together in an embrace that was far softer than anything that had occurred between them as of late. It felt like John’s entire body sighed in relief. “We were so worried, John.”

“And high as shit,” Jacob replied as they neared. “Tripping fuckin' balls, aren’t you, Johnny?”

“It’s fine,” John insisted, though he could hear the words slur a little even as he tried very hard to punctuate them on their way out of his mouth. “Not so bad.”

“You look awful,” Faith murmured. “What happened?”

“Um,” he said.

“Kian’s dead,” Jacob explained helpfully.

Joseph blinked. His expression was guarded, but hopeful. “Good news, then.”

“Deputy Honeysett bashed his skull in with a shotgun.”

Faith said, “Oh.”

A moment of silence stretched between them. Jacob paced to the front of the chapel; Joseph absently scratched at his cheek, his hand having withdrawn from John as he took in this news from his brothers. John tried not to shift too much, but the silence was killing him—he didn’t know how Joseph was going to feel about that. If he would still want Elliot with them.

“Was she?” Joseph asked after a minute. “Drugged?”

“No,” John said. “Not—I mean, she said she wasn't.”

“So she did it on her own,” he continued, “without being influenced by anything that could arguably… Cause a hallucination which would make her do that.”

“I—” John’s brain struggled to keep up with Joseph’s train of thought. “I—guess—”

“This is good news, then.” Joseph’s voice bloomed with warmth. “Don’t you see? There is no person more in need of us,” he continued, “than someone who has nowhere left to go.”

“And where would she go,” Jacob muttered, “that wouldn’t commit her to a psychiatric ward.”

Joseph nodded. His hand returned to the back of John’s neck and gripped there, firm and steadfast.

“You’ve done so well, John,” he said, “but our time is running out. You know that, don’t you? We are borrowing it now, from God himself, and I don’t intend to go into the next phase of our lives with a debt to pay.”

John blinked through the fog in his brain and swallowed thickly. He thought he knew what it was that Joseph was telling him—but before he could think too hard on it, Jacob interjected, “John hasn’t told the deputy about their blissful union.”

“What?” Faith asked, head snapping to look at him.

“Well,” John began.

“Actually,” Jacob continued, “he lied about it.”

“Well,” John tried again, irritably, “it had already been done, and she didn’t remember it thanks to Faith’s handiwork, and at the moment in time I thought—maybe—it would be worse off to tell her rather than…”

He fumbled for the words he wanted to say; the truth was that there were no good excuses. He just didn’t trust Elliot not to go absolutely feral when she found out, because she certainly didn’t remember it which meant she certainly was going to have feelings about it. And that was a problem.

But a problem for another time. Right?

“You’re gonna stick us in a bunker with her,” Jacob snapped, “and let her lose her shit on us while we’re trapped.”

“I won’t,” John insisted.

Joseph exhaled softly. “John—”

“I’ll—I’ve got it under control!” he exclaimed, looking at Joseph. “I know Elliot better than any of you, and I’ll find the right way to tell her, and it’ll be fine. I know.”

His older brother watched him with a pensive gaze. For a moment, John thought he saw regret flash across Joseph’s face—maybe for praising him too fast, maybe for entrusting this to him at all in the first place. But if he let someone down, that wasn’t his fault, right? This shit was so far beyond the plan of attack—so far beyond what they had anticipated, that there was a margin for error.

No, John thought, no, there isn’t. I know better. I’m better. I know.

“Borrowed time, John,” Joseph cautioned at last. “We’ve got to get rid of these locusts, and then we will be retreating for the End. You understand?”

John steadied the breath that tried to slip out of him. I don’t want to go into the next phase of our lives with a debt to pay.

“Yes, Joseph,” he replied. “I understand.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The stinging shower water ran pink to the drain. Elliot dunked her head under the water and passed her hands over her face; she stood there for a moment letting the water pool in the cups of her hands until her lungs ached and she had to let it go, spilling over her neck and shoulders. The dark dress, wretched thing, had been discarded and tossed into the trash; she thought if she had to look at herself in it for one more second she was going to come fucking undone, and that just wouldn't do.

The door clicked open; a brief moment of hesitation sounded before she heard footsteps coming inside. “El?”

She turned in the shower, wiping water from her eyes before tugging the curtain back. John regarded her with eyes only half-intoxicated, more clarity about them now than there had been in the truck.

Elliot watched him for a moment as she considered. The chill hadn't left her bones, even in the scalding hot water.

“Are you getting in?” she asked, watching his gaze flicker absently before landing back on her.

“Are you inviting me?”

Elliot pulled back from the curtain and ducked back under the water. “I’ve never known you to need an invite.”

“Fair enough, I won't disappoint.”

There was the gentle rustle of fabric, the push of the curtain, and then she wasn’t alone in the shower anymore; but it was fine, because she didn’t want to be alone anymore, because it felt like her entire body was vibrating and she couldn’t get it to stop. Unlike John, who she guessed was cruising down the same gentle crash that she had felt when the Family had drugged her with their weird shit, there was nothing inhibiting her body now. Only the quick, sharp, violent buzzing of blood on her mind, under her fingernails, between her teeth.

It felt good, too. An adrenaline high; the fall, right before impact.

John’s hands slid along her hips. The calloused pads of his fingers—fingers meant to hurt, to twist and coerce—skimmed the scars along her abdomen, sloping across her hip bones; she didn’t have to glance down to see that’s what he was doing. You’ll tell me, he’d said that morning. Eventually.

“I did them,” she said around the dull roaring in her ears. The words tasted strange on her tongue. A verbal admittance was very different from scribbling it into a journal. But the catharsis had begun; with Kian’s collapsed skull imprinted into her mind forever, it felt as though a tension had released in her, pulled taut and sharp and finally ripped free.

“Did what?” he asked, nosing past wet hair to glide his mouth along the pillar of her throat.

“The scars,” Elliot murmured. “I did them.” To feel real, she wanted to say, I did them so I could know that I was still real, but the words wouldn’t come. Maybe they didn’t need to.

John’s thumb swept along the one that stretched over her hip bone. He hummed, low and hungry, into her skin. He might have been coming down from his high, but it didn’t seem to be pushing him into sleep; he was enjoying it, the gentle careening to sobriety.

And maybe tomorrow she would regret telling him. Maybe tomorrow she would feel dirty for the way that she killed Kian, instead of intoxicated with her own magic. Maybe, maybe, maybe—but that was a thing to think about when the time came, and just like she had done everything else about herself that she hadn't liked, she would strangle it and move on.

John turned her around so that he could pull her against him. He said, “I thought so,” like he had recognized it in her, and she thought about that dream. Just like me, holding her blood-covered hands in his. You’re just like me.

Lifting her arms, Elliot carded her fingers through his hair and then gripped, pulling him in to press her mouth against his. She kissed him the way that she wanted to; no time for shyness now, she thought, no room for hesitation. John had watched her cave a man’s face in, and he was still here and hungry, so she kissed him hard—dug her teeth into his lip and revelled in the way that he moaned and leaned into her.

He’d kissed her frantically, too, back in the clearing and with Kian’s body just a foot away from them. Kissed her with blood in her mouth, greedy and insatiable, and frenzied, like he’d wanted her right then and there and wasn’t willing to let her go until he absolutely had to.

The raised skin of his Sloth scar dragged under her fingers. She dug her nails into the soft expanse of his shoulder, and he made a low, delicious noise against her mouth. I could give him more, she thought, dizzied at the idea of it, at this sudden humming, heady power she felt had become hers. This something that had become unlocked inside of her. I could give him more, and he’d thank me for it.

“Elliot,” John began, hands gripping her hips as he nudged her back against the shower wall. But he didn’t follow it up with anything; he just kept her there, skin on skin, heat bleeding out from every inch of him. His hand drifted up above her head, fumbling at the window, trying to push it open. “Fuck, it’s so fucking—hot in here—”

I want to be yours. I want a home with you.

Briefly, she wondered if that dream had been as wishful as she’d thought. John had been exactly what she wanted him to be—just the color, just the shape, everything in him built to lure her and keep her there like the most perfect predator. It was easy to forget that she had never known that she wanted a man whose hair was dark and his eyes a little cruel until she had looked at John Seed. But now it was impossible to ignore; she pressed to him, craved him, this delicious anchor of hers.

He could be cruel, if he wanted—he’d considered drowning her to death. He’d been greedy to mark her skin forever with her sin. He’d littered his body with markings and scars, testaments to his devotion, just like he had done every other conversion.

Yes, she thought absently, against the stifling heat of the stinging shower and John’s own radiating warmth, feverish from the hallucinogen seeping out of him. He is cruel. But maybe I—

And then he murmured, against her ear, “Want you,” hazy and buzzing and warm. His fingers slid down between them, gliding along the curve of where she most wanted his attention, and she felt her breath hitch in her throat. He buried his face into her neck and sighed, pressing into her and eliciting in her a spark that traveled straight down her spine; and then, almost as though he wasn’t thinking too hard about it: “Would’ve—back in the forest—”

He cut himself off and his movements stilled, just for a second. Elliot tilted her head to look at him through her eyelashes and canted her hips to gain some friction against the heel of his palm; she wasn't bothering anymore to stifle the stuttered, half-breath-half-whimper that came out of her as slick pleasure pooled in her stomach, the feeling of his fingers dragging a delicious, heady burn through her. 

Elliot heard him swallow back a sound over the white noise of the shower. It was a wicked kind of thing, this watching John as she leaned down into him; watching the muscle in his jaw tense and flex just before he beckoned his fingers against her and bit out a swear between his teeth when her body tensed and arched prettily into his touch. Needy and wanting; just the way that he liked, she was sure.

“Would’ve what?” she prompted breathlessly. John’s lashes, long and darker still from the shower spray, flickered. He seemed to be weighing it in his head, the pros and cons of what he had been going to say, but Elliot was no longer in a place of wanting to wobble. No floating, no drifting between ethereal and corporeal—she didn’t want to have to wonder, to have to piece together what it was he was thinking with the crumbling threads she could scoop up.

He didn't answer her; instead, he dragged his mouth along the slope of her neck, teeth digging against her pulse point. Elliot moaned, choking the noise halfway out of her spitefully, because she wanted him to earn it, and he did it again—harder this time, less like he was testing and more like he knew that she wanted it. The sting rippled heady anticipation straight to her brain, sparking through that hazy fog in her mind.

She sighed, "John," just as he dragged his fingers out slowly, torturously slowly, not enough to give her even half the friction she wanted and not so little that it didn’t make her suffer in the best sort of way. As soon as they didn’t return, but rather traveled the expanse of her abdomen, a quiet complaint slipped out of her; John kissed her, his tongue gliding against hers, his teeth nipping and biting as he dragged her leg up around his hip.

Everything felt like it was happening between breaths, between heartbeats, her pulse moving so sluggishly it was lava spreading through her body. Stifling, so hot, too hot, too much, but John’s mouth over hers pushed and pulled the breath out of her, guided the currents of her like the moon. Elliot tried again, giving the words more punch on their way out, “You would’ve what?”

She thought that she knew what he was going to say, and she wanted to hear him say it, that he would’ve—

“Fucked you,” John managed out hoarsely, just as he rocked into her. “God, I—”

Yes, she thought; the word left her mouth in something close to an exhale, and she didn’t know if she was responding to what he’d said or to the way it felt like he’d set a wildfire going racing along her skeleton the second they connected. He managed out a half-moaned swear and shifted into a slower, more leisurely paced as he sighed, “I would’ve, El— fuck , you’re so tight— ”

Pleasure wrenched in her stomach and writhed, hot and wicked. John’s pace was halting; he was trying not to go too fast or too hard even though he wanted to, but then he said things like how he wanted to fuck her while she was covered in blood and—

And she felt seen, and wanted, and she thought this must have been how they did it: took all of the grit and gore of someone and worshipped it, like something holy.

Biggest fucking Peggy-killer this side of Hope County, he’d spat at her that day they’d found Waylon’s body. But now? Now, it was all, so tight, El, want you, would’ve fucked you right there.

His hands grazed the bruises on her body before stopping at her hips again. He pulled back to get a good look at her, and then reached up, cradling her jaw with his left hand and dragging the pad of his thumb across her lip. A thrill crawled up her spine, hot and searing and latching onto her; she thought, this magic is mine now, too, and she parted her lips obediently to drag him into her mouth just so she could watch John just about come unglued.

And never before had she felt like this, wicked with John’s eyes blown wide and dark with want as his gaze fixed on her mouth and moaned, “God, Elliot—”

She wanted to forget about Kian’s hands on her body, his mouth on her skin, his words ringing in her head. So she did; she indulged in the feeling of John’s breath trembling as her tongue flickered against the pad of his thumb and the way he hissed as his pace changed. 

“Should have,” Elliot managed out when his thumb slipped from her mouth so that he could press his hand against the wall by her head. She said it between dizzying, radiating pleasure dragging through her body, devouring her, dragging her further and further toward the edge. “Should have—fucked me then, John, I—”

“F-Fuck.” The swear left his mouth wrecked, his movements stuttering. “Fuck, that’s so— filthy.”

He stopped tempering himself. If he was doing it because he was worried about whatever injuries she’d sustained, she was glad that he’d stopped—each haphazard, frenzied connection of their bodies sent her rapidly hurtling towards her finish, his fingers digging and dragging against the parts of her that craved him the most. It wasn’t fair, really, that John could rumble a few dirty things about wanting to fuck her in the woods and get her so close: but he did, and she was, and that was the end of it.

She breathed out, “Close, John—I’m—”

“Liked that, did you?” He sounded awfully pleased with himself, even as each of his breaths were punctuated with a desirous sound. “Liked me telling you how badly I wanted to push that dress up and fuck you right there? You get s-so —fucking tight when I say that—c’mon, El, let me hear those pretty noises—”

“Yes,” Elliot moaned, hazy with want, desperate and still trying to swallow some of it back, so close so close so close. “Yes, yes, I— John—”

John said something into her mouth; she couldn’t have said what it was, because all of the blood went rushing through her head the second her climax hit. There was a strange, suspended moment of nothing before it ripped straight through her, every neuron firing off rapidly as she buried her face into John’s neck and dug her nails in hard while the wave washed over her, wicked-hot and nearly too much.

Nearly, but not quite. John’s teeth on her lip dragged her back, and he moaned, “Holy shit, fuck yes —fuck, El, I’m gonna—let me—”

He couldn’t quite get out what he was trying to say, but Elliot thought she knew; it wasn’t hard to guess, anyway, considering the way he was gripping her like he’d fucking disappear if he didn’t. And she felt a little wild, a little wicked, only a vicious desire left before she hit empty, so she managed out, “Beg.”

John pulled back a little and let his gaze rake over her. His movements slowed, just enough that she could tell that he was pacing himself, holding back the same way he had that first time when she’d dragged him through his own climax. Though his eyes were blown nearly black, the clarity about them made her want to squirm—that she knew he wasn’t quite so high as he was before, that he was going to remember this.

“Wh—” The brunette swallowed thickly; his hands skimmed absently across her skin, like he didn’t need to really think about it to do it anymore, but that they did it of their own volition. “What?”

With that same kind of recklessness, Elliot knotted her fingers in his hair and said, “ Beg to finish inside me.”

A short, breathless laugh barked out of him. He said, “Fuck you. I’m not—I don’t—”

Elliot squirmed, pulling on his hair until his lashes fluttered and he was leaning back into her on instinct. “You do now,” she replied silkily against his mouth. And then, in an attempt at graciousness: “Didn’t you want me to be loud, John? To hear me?”

He groaned. “Y—Yes—”

“So beg me,” she bit out, canting her hips against him and feeling his breath stutter and hitch, “and I’ll be as loud—”

“Fuck—”

“—as you want—”

“— yes —”

“—tell you how much I want it—”

“ Please,” John moaned as he slotted his hips against hers, unable to hold still any longer. He made a low, wrecked sound, and by the time the adrenaline rush from hearing John Seed say please to her had hit her brain he was foregoing all pretense. “Please, El, let me finish inside you, I’ll—fuck—make you feel so good, baby, make you mine—”

Elliot kissed him, hard and punishing, and moaned “Yes—yes, John, so good ,” against his mouth until he was driving into her like a man incensed, frenzied, each desperate dig of his fingers against the bruises in her skin delivering a different kind of delicious pain; and when he came, panting, yes, fuck yes, don’t stop, El, please, fuck, she held onto him tighter.

Anything to feel whole. Anything to feel safe. Anything to forget, even for a moment.

“Don’t move,” John managed out unsteadily. “Don’t—Jesus, fuck, it’s so fucking hot in here.”

“Don’t know where I’d go,” she replied in a murmur. Her brain felt foggy now, delicious sliding down from her high, remembering the surge of delight she’d felt when John had said please, El. The water had since gone lukewarm, and she wasn’t sure she even got all of the blood out of her hair, but it didn’t matter; pleasant after-currents rippled through her, and all she could think about was how little of her brain was being spent on churning around the Family.

John’s mouth traced a bruise on her neck—either from him, or Kian; she didn’t know—and his breath slid across her skin.

“Viper,” he murmured huskily, admiringly. “Aren’t you?”

“You said it yourself,” she replied tiredly, eyes fluttering as the desperate need for sleep finally registered in her brain; no more adrenaline to keep pushing it away. “More devil than woman.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It was the second time waking up next to John, and the second time of having to try and brace herself for some kind of impact after.

That is to say, Elliot thought that maybe fucking John Seed felt a little bit like throwing herself off of a cliff, and so every time it happened—she thought, as though it had been more than twice—it was the same sensation of falling. The feeling prevailed over any other logic in her brain: upon waking, she thought very little of the sensation of his arm draped over her waist or his face buried into her hair and only of the sheer blast of panic that raced through her.

I smell, I feel, I hear, she thought, closing her eyes tight, but when she did, she saw Kian—blood streaming down his face, gripping her jaw, will you feel guilty about this too? And the panic shifted into dread, knotting tight and hard in her stomach.

She forced her eyes open. Sheer exhaustion had pushed her through a dreamless night, but that didn’t mean that her nightmares were confined to sleeping hours only.

When Elliot shifted, John stirred; his fingers skimmed up the back of her shirt, palm flattening at the spot between her shoulder blades, and she winced. Everything hurt. Everything ached. She wondered what was worse; nightmares, or this?

Definitely the nightmares, she thought, each breath a labor of her bruised and battered body. Right? Has to be the nightmares.

“Stop moving,” John muttered against her head.

“I don’t know why you don’t get the concept of a twin bed,” she snapped. “Fuck, my body hurts—”

“Well.” He was clearly trying not to sound smug, and failing; she could feel his grin into her hair. “I do recall you spurring me on—”

Oh, she thought, reminded of their shared shower. That.

A problem.

“Not from that, fuckhead.” She squirmed back from him, back pressing against the wall. “Feels like someone tried to curb stomp my ribs eighty times.”

“Probably did,” he replied. John tilted his head, wincing a little, and then nudged the blankets back from her body. His gaze was admiring. “Christ, you bruise easy, huh?”

“A fucking van t-boned us in a truck that spit out pitiful, half-functioning airbags, ” she bit out, “and then I got tossed around like a ragdoll, so—yeah, I guess if you consider battery and assault “easy”, then—”

John’s hands came up to her face and he kissed her. It lacked the same kind of urgency that it’d had last night; this was John taking his time, savoring her, parting his lips against hers and sighing into the kiss as he carded his fingers through her hair. The gesture itself was so unexpected that Elliot could do nothing but reciprocate, and the breath hitched in her throat as he tugged her back against him—part in pain and part because of the way he did it, like he just couldn’t get enough of her.

“So ungrateful,” he said against her mouth, “after I gave you what you wanted so badly last night.”

“I’m not the one who begged,”   Elliot replied sharply, “am I?”

John’s hand skimmed the slope of her hip, and he made a low noise, thumb digging past the top of her underwear to press lightly into a bruise that she thought his fingers had left. She sucked in a sharp breath as a familiar heat sprinted down her spine and squirmed.

“Worth it,” he replied after a moment, teeth catching her lip, “to have you say how much you wanted me in you.”

He flashed that half-cocked, shit-eating grin that she could feel against her mouth, and she swatted his hand away from her hip. There was, perhaps, a part of her that regretted goading him like that—that regretted spurring him on—but there was no point in lingering on it now. As much as John might want to. As much as, when he looked at her with those too-blue eyes, she might want to.

Elliot opened her mouth to say something, but before she could, there was a soft, quick knock at the door. Boomer, curled up on one of her sweaters by the door, immediately pricked his ears and barked at the intrusion.

“Elliot?” It was Faith’s voice. She felt her stomach somersault, plunged into—well, it wasn’t quite shame, but maybe a little bit of embarrassment, in the way that it was to have the little sister of the man you were currently entangled with knock on your door while you were still in bed.

“I’m—” Elliot sat up, slapping a hand over John’s mouth when she saw him start to say something. “I’m getting dressed, what is it?”

“Joseph wants to talk to you,” Faith called back, pausing. And then, perhaps with a bit more slyness than Elliot liked: “And John.”

Fuck fuck fuck. The last thing she wanted was for Joseph to know . There was probably a ninety-eight percent chance that Joseph was going to be flashing that psychotic smile the second she walked in, knowing that she and John were—

“W—I’m coming,” she said, as John gripped her forearm and pressed his mouth to the pulse point on her wrist, letting his teeth drag there. She yanked her arm out of his grip and hissed, “Stop , you fucker, or I’ll pick my teeth with your fucking bones.”

“Okay,” came Faith’s light-hearted reply. “See you soon!”

As soon as she heard the footsteps receding, she turned to John. “What the fuck does your brother want with me, John?”

John shrugged. “Contrary to what you may believe about me, I am not entirely all-knowing.”

“As usual, you are stunningly unhelpful,” she muttered crossly, sliding out of the bed and over to her bag of clothes. Now, she really felt it—each impact had been dulled by the adrenaline at the time, but as she shimmied into her jeans, every inch of her body screamed in pain and her vision fuzzed around the edges.

John had gotten out of bed as well, but he departed to the bathroom and returned with a bottle of aspirin, which he shook two pills out of and held in his palm for her.

“You might consider something with a higher neck,” he suggested lightly.

Elliot snatched the aspirin out of his hand and swallowed them dry. “My teeth,” she said, jabbing a finger into his chest, “your bones.”

“Just trying to be helpful.”

“Suggestion box is closed,” Elliot snapped. “Now—”

Her eyes flickered over him. It was very easy to disassociate John’s personality from his physical body, but harder when he was half-stripped-down in front of her, scars and tattoos on display and reminding her how intimately familiar she was becoming with them.

“Now put your clothes on,” she finally said, somehow managing to keep her voice mostly steady. “I want to get this done as fast as possible.”

The brunette flashed her a cheeky smile and gave her a two-finger salute that rang sardonic at best.

“Anything you want, baby.”

[sage-sunset]

sunflowers in the rainy winter  - akaashi bday special

this is an aged up, post-college au for my akaashi simps out there

warnings - not much, total fluff, a bit suggestive at the very end 

recommended - 14+

wc - 2.2k

______

“Happy birthday, baby!” He looks you up and down, rubbing his tired eyes. You’re standing there in that pastel blue puffer coat that he bought you a month ago, shaking from the cold with raindrops stuck to your eyelashes. It’s pouring outside, and you’re holding your umbrella in one hand and a box in the other.

“y/n… love… it’s 12:07. In the morning.”

“I know! I wanted to beat Bokuto this year, he probably won’t get here until two!” “...until?” “You must be tired. Let’s go to bed!” You set the umbrella in the bag and put it in the little stand he has before taking off your coat. You’re wearing fuzzy flannel pajamas, the set Bokuto got the three of you last year. You’re still shivering when you put the box into the fridge and then pull him into the bedroom.

Normally you like to hold him, but since you’re freezing like this, he wraps you into his arms and you flop onto the bed together to huddle under the blankets. Your feet are like ice cubes, and he kisses your forehead and smiles into your hair as you fall asleep in his arms. 

He may have been woken up at midnight, but you being here already makes it the best birthday ever.

_

He’s barely dozed off when the door bursts open, and the telltale “HEY HEY HEY” rings out. He rolls his eyes and sits up to see his best friend, standing there in his soaked glory. You’re somehow still asleep, hands clinging to his shirt.

Bokuto is covered in rain, his silvery hair plastered to his clammy forehead. It’s so cold outside Keiji is surprised it’s not snowing.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BRO-” “Bokuto-san, please keep it down. Y/N is still sleeping.” “My bad! HAHAHA-” “Loud.” “Sorry!” He whisper-yells, and Keiji rolls his eyes again. Why did he give this doofus a house key? “Anyways, if you’re this adamant about being here, you can crash on the couch like last year.” “Nah, I’m gonna go home. It’s cold as balls outside, and I want my blanket!” Just like that, he leaves. He spent a good 25 minutes walking over to Keiji’s house in the freezing cold rain at midnight, and he literally just yelled for thirty seconds and then left again.

What the fuck? He tries not to think about it, and goes back to letting you curl into him.

_

This time, he wakes up by himself. The curtain’s open, light filters through, and he sits up. You’re not there, but the smell of something delicious wafts through the apartment.

He rubs his eyes and checks the time, it’s only a bit past eight. He smiles when he walks into the kitchen to see you making something, obviously the source of the smell.

“Love, what’s this?” “Making waffles for my waffle!” He stares at you.

“That sounded much more romantic in my head.” His waffle is just the way he likes them; crispy but still soft and fluffy inside. He stares at it, a warm fuzzy feeling bubbling inside at the little message you’ve spelled out in syrup over the whipped cream; “HAPPY BIRTHDAY”. Jesus, he needs to marry you soon.

“Do you want coffee or tea?” “Coffee, please.” He takes a bite once you’ve sat down. It’s perfect, and as he eats he stares at you. You’re perfect too. 

“So, I’m sure you’ve already booked my day full. What are the plans?” You giggle, and the sound makes him feel even warmer.

“I remembered last month that you said that that new gallery was opening up at the museum. And Tsukishima-kun told me that there’s a big shark exhibit opening at the aquarium. So I figured-” “We go to the gallery, get lunch at that cafe we love, and see the sharks?” “You read my mind! Do you want to do that? If not, we can plan something else-” He takes one of your hands in his, and gently presses a kiss to your knuckle, right on your little silver band.

“It sounds absolutely perfect.” He starts to gather up the dishes, but you swat him away.

“You’re the birthday boy, go get ready! Oh, and I forgot to mention, Kuroo-san said that he and a few others are coming over around seven. So we should try to get back by five or so.” He pecks your cheek as you wash the dishes, and you giggle again.

“That’s fine. Do you know how long they’ll be over?” “Not sure, but it won’t be too late, trust me. I’ll have plenty of time to see my birthday boy in his birthday suit…” He blushes, and you turn back to washing the plates. 

“Go take a shower. I’ll join you in a bit.”

_

The gallery is incredible. You seem to agree, staring into each painting with focus and intent. The good thing about you both being artsy is that you can enjoy this kind of thing together.

He holds your hand gently as you lead him to the centerpiece. It’s nothing short of breathtaking. A huge, sprawling field of sunflowers in the middle of summer. The sky is the purest blue you can imagine, and puffy clouds float in the sea of azure. There’s a pair of hot air balloons floating among the clouds, one decorated in oranges and one in purples. In the distance a little farmhouse sits on the hill. The painting is oil, and it’s huge, taller than him. 

“It’s so beautiful, isn’t it, Keiji?” He says nothing, staring into the flower field. He imagines for a second that it’s real, that you and him are standing in the ocean of sunflowers, under the summer sky.

That farmhouse could be yours. He can see it, a quiet life there with you two. He’d spend the day writing, you’d spend the day playing the piano and singing with that little fairy voice of yours. 

You’d take a picnic basket down into the field, lay down a little blanket and watch the sunset on the hill. Just the two of you, safe and calm and warm as the sun fades away.

“Keiji?” He’s startled out of his fantasy to see you looking at him, a smile playing at your lips.

“Did you hear me?” “Sorry, what did you say?” “I just said that you’ve been staring at that painting for the past fifteen minutes. I’m starting to get jealous,” you tease.

He smiles at that notion. The painting may be beautiful, but it fades in comparison to you. But then again, so does everything else.

“Let’s get lunch, love. We’ll have to hurry if we want to catch those sharks.” -

This cafe may well be his favorite place on earth. Simply put, it’s where you met. You worked there part time, and he’d stopped by every day after class to get his work done. Once he’d first seen you though, he began to focus on you, rather than his homework.

It took him a month to build up the balls to ask you out. You’d said yes, and your very first date was dinner and a planetarium show. Much more romantic than a movie, you’d said when he asked if it was lame.

And now here you were, about to eat lunch here after being together for two and a half years. There you are, ordering him a Hokkaido bubble tea and red bean toast, the two things you spent weeks writing down his order for. Before he’s even pulled out his wallet, you’ve paid, and he’s barely able to scold you for not letting him pay because you sit him down.

“That painting was really something else, huh?” He nods, gazing into your eyes.

“Don’t stare, you’re making me self-conscious.” “Shush, let me admire my beautiful girlfriend.” Since you’re in public, the most you can do without getting looks is hold hands, which you do even when the bubble teas and pastries are set down in front of you. His thumb gently strokes the band on your finger.

He doesn’t let go of your hand as you walk into the aquarium. He doesn’t let go as you walk past the giant tank, staring at the colorful fish and little crustaceans. He doesn’t let go when you ask the kind older woman to take a picture of you two in the shark’s mouth, and he most certainly doesn’t let go as you gently stroke the bamboo shark’s back in the touch tank.

Neither of you want to leave, but he knows that his friends will be coming over soon and you’ll want to have the cake and stuff ready. So before you leave, he buys you an adorable stuffed shark plush from the gift store.

Once you’re home, you decide to eat a little something so that you won’t be having only cake for dinner. He sets out some leftovers; the braised eggs from yesterday morning, the cucumber salad you made a few days ago to go with the katsu bowls, and he heats up some rice and leftover chicken.

While the love of your life sets out some food, you take the cake you brought over last night out of the fridge and place it out on the table. It’s simple, swirled with purple and blue with macarons on top. You also bought a 23 candle, a little golden one. 

It’s perfect.

You eat quickly, only having a little bit but enough to satisfy your stomach. Before you two know it, there’s a knock at the door.

The only person who’d knock, it’s Tsukishima. He may be a sarcastic little shit, but he’s tolerable compared to the other people coming over tonight.

“Good evening, y/n-san.” “Hey, Tsukki-kun. Come on it, it’s chilly outside.” In a little bit, Kuroo and Kenma show up. Then come Yukie and Kaori, Komi and Konoha, and of course the ace himself.

“HEY HEY HEY! HOW’S THE BIRTHDAY BOY DOIN’?!”

You smile at Yukie and Kaori, shaking your heads at the tall man who’s currently hugging your boyfriend so tightly you think he might burst.

“I’m doing well, Bokuto-san. Would you mind putting me down?” “Sure thing, birthday buddy! n/n been takin’ care of you today?” “I’m sure she has, in quite a few ways,” snickers Kuroo, and Bokuto guffaws as Kenma elbows the rooster-headed asshole.

“Don’t be crude.” scolds Kenma as he scrolls through his phone. You assume that Kuroo made him leave his switch at home.

Two hours into the evening and a bottle of champagne later and the cake is almost gone. Yukie and Bokuto are having an arm wrestling contest on the coffee table with Tsukki as the referee, Kaori is passed out on the couch, Komi and Konoha are giggling like second graders for no reason, and Kenma is crying into Kuroo’s shirt about his village and how he needs to get back to the island, that shit ain’t gonna build itself. Keiji is sitting beside you, his head buried in your shoulder.

“You tired, baby?” He nods, his hand gently rubbing your thigh.

“Okay, I’ll call a cab for these idiots. Sit tight.” You stand to go grab your phone, and before you know it the living room is clear of the eight stooges. Keiji walks up behind you, his face slightly flushed, and wraps his arms around you. You can tell he’s a bit tipsy, but he’s not falling over or anything.

“Baby, go brush your teeth and get ready for bed. I’ll clean up in here.” “I can help, love-” “No. I’ll only be a minute. The birthday boy still has one more gift to open.”

With that, you unlatch him from you and go to clean up the glasses and plates. It was nice to catch up with everybody, especially the girls. There were only ten of you, but it was nice to have company for the first time in a while.

You set the leftover cake into the fridge before going into the bathroom to brush your teeth, and you can feel a pair of eyes on you as you wash up and change into one of his shirts.

“Come here, love.”

“In a second.”

“You’re spending the night, right?”

“Of course, baby. I’m yours for the night.”

“You’re too good to me.” “You’re one to talk, prince charming.” He smiles and takes you into his arms. The kiss he pulls you into is just as dizzying and passionate as all of his kisses, but just a bit more fervent. He’s excited, and so are you. 

He pulls away to take your hand, his favorite place to press gentle kisses to. His lips brush over the little band for what feels like the millionth time today, and you remember the promise that the ring means. So does he, and he can’t wait to replace it with a diamond one.

He kisses you again, and you melt into it. He’s so gentle, impossibly so, but despite the gentleness he’s still trapping you there. But trapped against him as he presses a kiss to your forehead and holds your hand in his isn’t such a bad place to be.

“God, I love you so much,” he whispers into your hair. “Mm, how much?” “To the sunflower fields and back.”

(a/n - the “silver band” is supposed to be a promise ring. I’ve always thought that he’d be the kind of guy who would buy you a promise ring.)

[whenisaypostquam-yousaynumquam]

Home

||Gigi Goode Imagine||

Pairing: Gigi Goode (Samuel Steven Geggie) x fem!Reader

Word Count: 1,483

Warnings: None

Requested: Yes! Thank you @itscaramelcotton for the request 💕 I hope you like it 

“i absolutely adore Gigi, and loved your imagine on her! If it’s not tọo much to ask, could i ask for another imagine with her that’s yery flirty/fluffy. The reader and Gigi obviously have a crush on each other and one of the other season 12 queens cuts the bullshit between them? Only of course if you’re not too busy, it’s so wonderful that you take requests, thank you love:)”

_______

The distance had honestly killed you. When Sam had gone away to film drag race as his Gigi Goode persona, you felt lonelier than you’ve ever felt before in your life. You couldn’t call or text, you couldn’t write a letter or even go out to see him. Each day he was gone you felt like you were slowly being eaten from the inside out. You loved Sam… more than you’d care to admit, and definitely more than you’d ever admit to him as his friend. Ah yes, unrequited love at its finest. But it didn’t bother you so much, just as long as you were able to keep him in your life, you’d happily stay just friends. Now, this isn’t to say that you’re some sort of love sick puppy pining over him, because that was not the case at all… Sam just understood you in a way that nobody else has, and that has made all the difference. You respected him for who he was, and that was why you cared so much about him. Never in your friendship had you ever felt uncomfortable or disrespected. Yes, the two of you fought on occasion due to differences of opinion, like the right wig to wear for one of his looks or what the best dessert to order at Applebees, but you both easily caved for the other and apologized.

This is where the difference lied between what you felt for him. You and Sam had been friends for years, since the two of you were in high school. The bond you had was unbreakable, hell, you even followed him out to California from your hometown in Illinois. Being around Sam made you feel content with life, and that was why you loved him.

Being alone in your shared L.A. apartment was quickly becoming easier as the weeks drew on, causing your nerves from his absence to dissipate, and your excitement for his return to take over. Then finally it came… the day you were able to see him again. Luckily for you, since the show was filmed in the same city you and Sam lived in, the producers at least allowed you to pick him up from the hotel him and the other queens were staying at… well, after a bit of forceful persuasion on your part. After all, why waste money on an uber when you could easily go and get him?

Your body was shaking in anticipation the entire drive to the hotel, glad that you were finally able to see Sam again after the course of so many weeks alone. As soon as you pulled up to the building, seeing him waiting outside the doors with all of his bags, your mind and heart went into overdrive. You only just put your car into park before flinging your door open and lunging yourself at his tall and lean frame.

“Sam!” You exclaimed as you encased your arms around his neck. Taking a deep breath in, his intoxicating scent sent a warm feeling throughout your body. He smelled the same as you remembered, musky with strong hints of freshly laundered cotton. It was refreshing to say the least, especially after having spent so much time apart. You heard a deep and shocked gasp from the boy before his arms firmly wrapped themselves around your midsection and gently braced your back, thankfully anchoring you in place since the stretch of your shorter frame reaching up to him on your tippy toes was quite the awkward position to stay in by yourself. “Y/N” he breathed out, sounding somewhat relieved, tightening his grip even more than before, all while burrowing his face into the side of your neck. The embrace felt different from every other time you and Sam had hugged. As his breath lightly tickled your neck you couldn’t help but to shiver, the embrace feeling more intimate than anything you’ve felt before.

A firm and audible cough from beside you quickly made you realize the spectacle you must have created, so you almost as quickly let go of Sam and took a step back. Sheepishly looking towards the source you saw the smirking face of a larger man with skin the colour of hot cocoa. “Well, well, well, Miss Goode… you didn’t tell us you had a girlfriend!” He teased, making Sam chuckle softly. You looked up at him to see his reaction to it all, and this was quite honestly the first time you’d ever seen that look cross his face… a look of uncertainty… but an uncertainty for what? Clearing his throat he then began to speak, “Widow, this is my friend Y/N” the darker man chuckled, smirk still on his face, as he extended his hand out towards you. You took it and gave it a shake as he introduced himself as Widow Von'Du, another contestant on the show.

After the somewhat awkward introductions you all started to talk about basically anything, but when Widow’s uber pulled up to take him to the airport it signaled that you and Sam should probably go too. Before Window got into the car he turned to the two of you standing there “Gigi, if you don’t snatch that girl up like a thousand dolla’ weave someone else will… ain’t nothing worse than having the one thing you want most snatched right from you.” A smirk once again graced his dark chocolate features before he got into the car and it drove off.

The two of you stood there in a somewhat stunned silence, neither knowing what to say after hearing Widow’s parting words. Sam was the first to break the silence, “I think you’d be worth more than $1000…” his soft mumbling made you turn to look at him, but he was already staring at you. With a soft sigh he reached his hand out and smoothed down the hair in your head, a comforting gesture that Sam regularly did to you when he was reminiscing. “What do you mean?” You asked him, his and Widow’s words sending a flurry through your mind. His hand stopped as it reached your neck, fingers still laced withing your locks. Your eyes locked with Sam’s as you both stood there, unmoving, for what felt like hours. It wasn’t until his hand on the side of your neck tugged you towards him, and his lips locked on yours that those hours turned back into seconds.

His lips were soft as they pressed against yours, his proper care and metrosexuality being the cause for this. It only took you a moment to register what was happening before you began to kiss him back, the feeling of his lips on yours was the best thing you had felt in all your life. When you both finally pulled away for air Sam once again began to smooth down your hair. “I missed you so much, Y/N.” he said, somewhat breathless, “I missed your smile, your laugh, the way your hair looks like after you accidentally fall asleep on the couch,” you couldn’t help but to smile at that, “I missed the way you would always burn the cookies you’d make, no matter how many times you tried.” You gently hit his lean chest as a small chuckle escaped from your lips, “That never stopped you from eating them regardless.” You quipped, causing an endearing smile to show on his face as he brought his hand that was previously in your hair to your cheek. The feel if his slightly calloused fingers against the soft skin of your cheek was a comforting contrast that made you smile. “Yeah, that’s because they were made by you.” He said as his thumb gently rubbed against your cheekbone, “Y/N, I don’t ever want to miss you like that again.” The determination in his voice made you gasp as you stared up at his handsome features. Everything about his words and the look in his eyes scream sincerity, making your heart flutter at the joy it was feeling.

“I feel the exact same way.” You said, voice only barely coming up above a whisper. The smile that grew on Sam’s face was one that you had never seen before. The sheer amount of joy and happiness held within it was truly something to behold.

He kiss you again. This time it felt somewhat more firm, and achingly more sweet than the last time. Even after he pulled away it felt you wanting more. “C'mon, let’s go home.” You said, a bit of a shit-eating grin on your face as you grabbed the man’s much larger hand in yours, lacing your fingers between his before leading him back towards your car. “I already am.” He said as he gave your hand a firm squeeze. The smiles gracing both of your faces never faltered, not even once… and you were 100% okay with that.

[got7thotsss]

More Than That- Jackson

Warnings: Swearing probably, slightly angsty Summary: Y/n gets sick and roommate!Jackson takes care of her. Pairing: Jackson x Reader Word Count: 1.8k A/n: This was just a lil idea I had on the way to college one morning lmao. Enjoy xoxo

You glared over the top of your computer at your co-worker blowing his nose obnoxiously loudly. Your boss calls over, telling your co-worker to show you something. So, he gets up, walks around to your computer and starts tapping away at your keyboard with his gross germ covered hands. He’s leaning over your shoulder, chatting away about the numbers on the screen. After five minutes of you attempting to lean away from the germ pool that is your co-worker, he coughs on you and that’s when you snap.

“Are you kidding me? If you’re sick, at least wash your hands after blowing your nose. And here’s a thought, maybe don’t cough on people. You’re actually disgusting Sungmin!” You exclaim, abruptly shooting up out of your seat.

“Y/n, what’s all this commotion about? You guys are supposed to be trying to work together.” Your boss states anger evident in her tone.

“I’m sorry, but he needs to think about personal hygiene man.” You respond, holding your hands up in defence.

Your boss lets you both get back to work, but makes sure to keep an eye on you, just in case anymore yelling occurs. You manage to keep your distance from Sungmin for the rest of the day, sending him glares every time he looks your way.

The minute you walk into your apartment, Jackson is there, taking your coat off, asking you about your day. The usual. No wonder you fell for him, after all these years of you guys living together. Every time you arrive home this happens. Every. Single. Time.

Jackson has been your roommate since your first years at university. You’ve had a thing for him since halfway through that year. Jackson has had feelings for you since he first laid eyes on you. It’s been a wild ride for the both of you. All of your friends are aware of the mutual feelings between you both, but so far, they have failed in trying to get either of you to believe them.

“It’s strange to think that we’ve been out of Uni for over a year now.” Jackson says out of nowhere. You’d both sat down to eat some soup and dumplings, before you relax for the rest of the evening.

“Oh yeah, we’ve been living here for like over five years now. God, we’ve both aged.” You respond, making Jackson laugh and splutter his soup all over the counter you were both sat at.

“What makes you think we’ve aged?” He questions, as he wipes the soup/saliva mixture off the counter.

“Erm, maybe the fact that it’s only six thirty and I’m absolutely exhausted.” You respond, taking a sip of water.

“Not the fact that neither of us have drank since the birthday we were dragged to four months ago, and even then we only had one each, then snuck back here to finish binging that series?” He questions, making you inhale to laugh mid-sip. Your water then goes all over the counter, as you choke on the liquid.

“That could be a telling sign too.” You answer, as you start to clean your own mess off the counter.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

It’s not even been a week since Sungmin coughed all over you and yet you have already caught his cold full swing. You’ve just finished having a coughing fit into the crease of your elbow, when your boss approaches you, a serious look across her face.

“Y/n, I’m afraid I’m going to have to send you home. Your coughing and sniffling is distracting everyone else from their work. I can get Sungmin to look after your accounts until you get back. Which will be when you’re 100% better, I don’t want you getting anyone else sick.” She states, you look at her in shock.

“So, you didn’t think to send Sungmin home when he was sick? Typical. I’ll be back next week.” You say, leaning down to grab your bag, then picking your phone up of the desk, “Thanks for letting me have this time off.” You then make your way home and full on crash.

Jackson was expecting an empty house as always when he got home. Unfortunately, when he enters the house, he notices your heels haphazardly scattered in the entryway. He follows the trail of your various items abandoned in your apartment and finds you snuggled into the living room carpet. You’re wearing a small pair of shorts, some fluffy socks and one of Jackson’s oversized hoodies. He takes a moment to admire you, despite the snot that has dripped from your nose down your cheek, or the small puddle of drool you’re leaking onto the floor.

He then turns and leaves the apartment, returning fifteen minutes later with near enough an entire pharmacy. I’m talking every flavour of Lemsip he can find, every different kind of Soother, Paracetamol, Ibuprofen, VapoRub. The works. He wanted to do everything in his power to make you feel as comfortable as possible during your sickness. He piles it all onto the kitchen side and starts making his special stew that you’ve both been eating whenever any of you are sick ever since the both of you moved in together.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

One week into your cold and you’re just getting into the thick of it. You have never been more fed up with an illness in your life. Until now, your breathing had been alright, but you have to start using the VapoRub to help get you through the night.

You hear Jackson turn the shower off in the bathroom and all but run over to the door, in order to bombard him when he’s not busy. He walks out, body glistening with the beads of water, fluffy orange towel wrapped around his waist. His eyebrows furrow in confusion when he spies you waiting for him, but realisation washes over him as he notices the tub in your hand.

You lost your voice a few days back, so you had to deal with gesturing till it decides to reappear. You point to your back, before quickly tying your hair up in a bun to get it out of the way. He nods, whilst taking the tub out of your hand, enabling you to sort your hair out. Once you turn around, letting him know you’re ready, he starts rubbing the menthol onto your back. He takes his time, trying to get every inch at least twice.

You notice him starting to walk away after he finishes, but grab his arm to stop him, “I’m just going to wash my hands.” He states, chuckling slightly.

You shake your head at him, then gesture to your chest. His eyes widen as he realises what you want, but he nods and starts to rub the ointment onto your chest. You don’t miss the red tinge on his cheeks as he rubs lower, the strappy top you decided to wear revealing a lot compared to the more conservative t-shirts you usually wear around the apartment.

As he starts massaging it in further up, he catches your eyes with his own. This leads to a staring contest as Jackson sensually rubs his hand across your chest. He breaks the eye contact by looking down to your lips, then swiftly back to your eyes. You shake your head as he leans in. You see the hurt flash across his face, he pulls away and turns his back to you.

“I’m sorry, I thought that was a thing we both wanted.” He says, before walking into the bathroom. You silently groan, of course the one time one of you made a move would be when you’re sick and refuse to do something about it. You try to speak up to explain that it isn’t like that. You just don’t want to get him sick, because that would make you feel super shitty.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

After an extremely awkward week, you’re finally well enough to go back to work. Despite thinking that you don’t reciprocate his feelings, Jackson still puts the VapoRub on you every night. None of you talk, you because you can’t, Jackson because he just feels too awkward. He feels stupid for finally believing your shared friends and doing something about his feelings for you. You feel absolutely terrible for letting him believe that you don’t want to be with him.

After a long day of work, you get back to an empty apartment. You make your way to the kitchen to start up dinner and notice a note stuck to the fridge stating that Jackson took on an extra lesson at the fencing club and won’t be back till 7:30. You decide to make him his favourite meal as an apology. You’re going to wait until he gets back and explain everything to him.

Jackson walks through the door at 8:47pm. An hour and seventeen minutes later than he originally stated. To say you’re angry is an understatement. You are absolutely livid. You think about all of the things you can say to him, but ultimately the anger dissipates as soon as you see him. He’s wearing sweatpants and a muscle tee, dripping in sweat. He must’ve gone to the gym after his lesson in a bid to avoid you some more. He looks at you, evidently shocked that you’re sat at the counter with a meal set out.

“What’s all of this about?” He asks, annoyance still evident in his tone.

You don’t respond. You just get out of your seat and walk over, until you’re face to face with him. He opens his mouth to speak again, but you cut him off by placing your lips on his. He immediately responds to the kiss, allowing one of his hands to rest on your waist, as the other cups your cheek to guide the kiss. You place your hands on his chest, then slide them up to rest on his shoulders.

After you pull away, questions start pouring out of his mouth, “Jackson, shush. I didn’t let you kiss me last week because I was sick and I didn’t want you to get sick. It was a nasty cold.”

“Okay then, we have a lot of making up to do then.” He says, smiling brightly and dragging you over to the sofa. You spend the rest of the night on the sofa, slightly watching whatever is on the tv, but mostly making out and cuddling. The last thing you remember of the night is falling asleep on the sofa. You’re not surprised when you wake up in your bed, that happens most of the time when you fall asleep in the living room. What shocked you was waking up to Jackson also being in your bed. You smile as he leans over to kiss you, before moving away and getting up out of the bed.

Your heart sinks as he starts to cough violently, “Looks like you did get me sick after all Y/n.”

You open your mouth to start apologising, when he suddenly stops mid-cough and winks at you, before making his way out of the bedroom.

“That was such a dick move, Jackson.” You call out after him, throwing a pillow in the direction of the door.

[lowkeyassgard]

DAY 7 OF LOKI VS. EARTH: COWS

Day 7 of the Loki vs. Earth (quarantine series) and today Loki is confused by the existence of cows.

One shot summary: Loki is threatened by the existence of cows and is determined to expose them for what they really are... monsters...

Author’s Note: Hi. I started something called the quarantine series. It’s going to be a series of fun and light hearted one shots to help readers and other writers get through this hard time. I made a a03 collection and a tumblr tag. To join just write a fun, soft, and/or light hearted one shot and post it to the collection @Quarantine_Series or tag it on tumblr as #quarantine series. Anyways enjoy!

On a clear and warm Sunday Loki was woke up at dawn by the sweet screaming voice of Valkyrie.

“LOKI GET UP. WE HAVE PLACES TO BE.” Valkyrie screamed before walking back out of him room. Shutting the door behind her.

“Damn. Can’t a god get a little respect.” Loki thought to himself. She was his king so he would let her behavior slide. They did have places to go today. Loki had agreed, now regretted, to go with Thor and Valkyrie to a farm nearby to look at buying some of the land for Asgardians to live on. They wouldn’t destroy the farms or remove them but would peacefully live and help. Currently they lived by the pier in Norway but some of the people wished to expand outwards. So Valkyrie thought it would be a great idea to buy co-ownership of the farm land. She probably needed him to come along for his charm.

She had warned him to dress in clothes he didn’t mind to get ruined but Loki was flabbergasted. How dare she expect him to go anywhere without looking his absolute best. He had a reputation to uphold and this farm would not intervene. So much to Thor and Valkyrie’s disappointment Loki walked out of his room in his usual black Midgardian suit.

“Loki, you are going to stick out like a sore thumb.” Valkyrie groaned out.

“As I should. All walks of life should have their eyes blessed by my exquisite sense of style.” Loki said with a smirk.

With that the three of them piled into the back of a truck and made their travels to the nearby farm owned by a young man and his husband.

Upon their arrival Loki was instantly filled with disgust. There were these creatures roaming around the land. Large creatures with black polka dots. They made monstrous noises between their kind and at the three of them. Every time they “moo’d” Loki felt his insides quiver. They were huge. They could probably crush him with one step

Loki was three minutes into a staring contest between one of these creatures when the owner of the farm and his husband finally came out of his home.

“Ah! Yes! Hello! Welcome to my farm. I’m Daniel. Daniel pointed behind him at his husband. “This is Oakley.” “ And this is our herd of fluffy babies.”

“Babies. These are not babies. These are..” Loki began to say but was interrupted. “ LOKI” Valkyrie said while elbowing him in the chest.

“I have much business to do today but I looked over the proposal you sent me. I love it. I would love to share my farm land with your people of New Asgard. We can set up an agreement in the future but for now tell your people they are welcome. “ Daniel said before moving to shake hands with Valkyrie.

His people would have to share land with these creatures. Oh how the children would be in terror.

“It is so nice to meet all of you. I have to leave for a meeting but my husband will show you around the farm.” With that Daniel left in his pickup truck and Oakley began to describe the setup of the farm.

Loki heard none of it. He just kept his focus on these creatures. These creatures that could strike at any moment.

He saw his brother and king move closer to them but he stand in his spot. He wasn’t scared. He was.. he was cautious. He was practically immortal. They could crush but not defeat him. Loki was a god and he would not be intimidated by such mewling earthly creatures.

Loki puffed out his chest. Untuck his shirt from his jeans to blow in the wind. He straightened his posture. He ran a finger to through his hair to push back the strands that were falling in his face. He focused his attention one creature in particular. He was bigger than the others. He had bigger spots and smelled more horrid. He was their leader and Loki would overcome him.

Loki began to walk toward him but as he got closer the cow looked at him. His monstrous gaze stopped Loki in his tracks. Come on now Loki it’s just an animal. He can’t hurt you.

Loki took another step which made the cow let out the biggest moo Loki had heard. The cow began to move. The cow took a step toward Loki and that was it. Loki was done. Loki ran toward the truck as fast as he could. His heart beating out of his chest and his hands sweating he grabbed the door handle and threw himself into the seat. There he stayed until Thor and Valkyrie came back to go back home.

“Sorry for running off like that. I heard my phone ringing.” Loki said trying to hide his shaking hands.

“Loki, you don’t even have a phone.” Thor said to his brother.

“Uh. I heard a phone ringing. Didn’t want them to go to voicemail.”

“Okay so who was it? 1-800-scared of cows.” Valkyrie said teasingly. She saw him run off frightened after that cow moved toward him.

“I AM NOT SCARED.” Loki screamed. The glass in the car shook from the waves of his voice.

“If you say so.” Thor and Valkyrie said. They knew the truth. The poor Asgardian god was frightened by a cow that was much of his own food source.

They rode in silence for the rest of the trip home. Loki actually didn’t talk to anyone for the rest of the day. He raced to the library and checked out every book they had on “cows”.That night Loki learned every bit of information that humans knew on cows. He read for so long that he fell asleep in the chair with the book on cows milk on his chest. When he woke up the next day he had a game plan. He would paint himself with blue polka dots and return to the farm. He would show that he was like them but better. He was stronger and more fierce. He would be over them.

So Loki spent 2 hours painting blue dots on his body and clothes and another hour traveling back to the farm. When he arrived he was in a state of confusion. The cows did not have spots. They were brown. They had changed over night. They knew he would come back to challenge them today.. They had powers not native to this earth.

Loki got back in the truck and shook in his seat the whole way home. Cows were shapeshifters and he must warn the people before it’s too late.

[idiot-with-a-cat-pen]

Day 2: Date

look, I was going to write for the domestic prompt, but 2 hours ago I scrapped that and did this instead. So if you like red string of fate soulmate aus (but forced love? not in this house) you’re in luck.

also on ao3 here.

Blake sits down on the park bench and raises her thermos to her lips, crossing one leg over the other. It’s been a long day of forcibly trapping Penny, Weiss, and Ruby into places where they have no choice but to talk to each other, which was made even harder when they cut a hole in the wall of their room instead. After all of the trouble she and Yang went to, she’s happy to have some time to relax and not worry about matchmaking. For today, anyway.

A cold wind blows past her, and she tries to shrink into her fluffy scarf. Her too-sensitive Faunus ears pick up the sound of every leaf skittering across the cement, and she starts to wonder if this was a good idea. On most days, she can deal with the noise, but after hearing the combined screeching of Weiss and Ruby, she really wants to give her ears a break.

The sound of a boot crunching the fallen leaves makes her turn. Clover walks to another park bench, his back mostly to her. He sits down with a loud sigh that anyone, human or Faunus, could pick up at this distance.

Blake pulls out her Scroll and types a message to Yang. Guess who just showed up at the park?

Her soulmate’s response is fast and in all caps, as usual. CLOVER.

How’d you know?

EVERYONE ELSE IS HERE. EXCEPT FOR THE YOU-KNOW-WHOS, BUT THAT’S BECAUSE I LOCKED THEM IN THE CLOSET.

The black-haired Huntress sighs, setting her thermos down next to her. It’s been hours, Yang. You have to let them out soon or they’ll starve. You know what happens when Weiss misses a meal.

FUCK

Blake snorts and puts her Scroll away, looking back at Clover. He’s pulled a bag of what looks like birdseed out of his pocket and has started feeding the crows. She shakes her head. It seems like a very Clover thing to do, but it’s still strange to see.

Clover turns to one of the crows and starts talking. Blake raises an eyebrow. She’s not necessarily surprised, (see previous note about very Clover things to do) but she wonders if…

“I’m a genius,” Blake mutters, yanking out her Scroll again. She messages Yang even faster than before. Send Uncle Qrow. This is a Code Birb.

CODE BIRB IS GO.

Minutes later, a crow soars from behind Blake to join the flock in what looks to her like a pretty inconspicuous move. She doesn’t remember what excuse they came up with to get Qrow to fly out here without question, but it must be a good one.

Blake pauses. Normally, she wouldn’t want to spy, but- who is she kidding, she always wants to spy. Careful to leave a clone of herself on the bench, Blake stands up and sneaks over, praying that a stray leaf won’t touch her clone. Just to be safe, she sets herself up one bench down, confident that her ears will be able to pick up whatever conversation occurs.

“...and I don’t know if he’s my soulmate or anything, because I’m pretty sure- well, anyway, I was going to ask him on a date, but do you think I should?” Clover pauses. “Wait, no. I’m talking to crows.”

“You totally should,” Blake hisses, maybe just a little too loud. Clover jerks around for a second, but finds no one. He does see her clone on the bench, so he leans closer to the crow and lowers his voice. Sometimes, she’s glad she has the cat ears, and this is one of those times.

“I feel like a teenager doing this, but I’m practicing on you, okay?” Clover whispers to the crows.

Blake has to resist rolling her eyes. There are some things that she’d expect him to do, but this is on a whole other level of… interesting.

“Uh… hi, Qrow,” Clover says. “I was just wondering if- well, the Mantle Fair is tonight, if…”

He starts waffling again, and Blake sighs. The Mantle Fair does sound interesting, though. Maybe she’ll get her team (and Penny, of course) to come along.

Finally, Clover finishes. “I was wondering if you wanted to come with me? As a date?”

She doesn’t know how, but Blake suddenly knows what’s going to happen. A millisecond after she realizes it, the lone crow sitting on the bench with Clover disappears in a little puff of feathers.

Qrow looks back at Clover, his arms crossed as he lounges on the bench. “I think you might need a little more practice with that one, Lucky Charm.” He waits a second to finish as if he enjoys making it more dramatic than it needs to be, which he probably does. “And sure, I’d love to.”

Clover falls off the bench.

~^0.0^~^0.0^~^0.0^~

The Mantle Fair is much larger than Blake expected, but she’s not complaining. More time at the fair means more time for ships. She walks next to Yang, still wearing her fluffy scarf as she follows behind the rest of the group.

Ren and Nora split off early once Nora catches sight of a whack-a-mole game. An earsplitting crash follows, but Blake doesn’t turn around. She knows Nora well enough to not have to.

Another of the icy winds that Blake’s learned are common in Mantle rushes through the fairgrounds, making everyone shiver. Weiss turns to Ruby. “Hey, Ruby, I’m kind of… cold.”

Qrow looks back from where he leads the group with Clover. “The Ice Queen? Cold?”

“Hey!” Weiss looks ready to murder him, but Penny and Ruby hold her back as the silver-eyed Huntress takes off her hood and puts it on Weiss’s shoulders. The second Penny lifts the red hood over Weiss’s head, she flushes until her otherwise pale face resembles a tomato.

Blake feels a shiver pass through her too and says to Yang, “I’m cold too.”

Yang pauses where she walks. “NOT ON MY DAMN WATCH.” In the blink of an eye, her eyes turn red and her hair lights up with a bright golden fire. A few people scream, but Blake can’t help but laugh as she edges closer to her girlfriend and the warmth she provides.

Ruby, Weiss and Penny leave the group for one of the water gun games, leaving Yang and Blake far behind Qrow and Clover. Blake shoots Yang a look, and they pick up their pace until they’re much closer.

Finally, Qrow and Clover stop at a fishing game. Yang whispers to Blake, “Should we really be surprised, or…?”

“No, we shouldn’t,” Blake laughs, leading Yang by the hand to the test-your-strength contest next to the fishing booth. “I-”

A loud shriek echoes around the fair. Blake whips around to find Penny, Ruby, and Weiss staring at their hands. She knows by the way their gazes find each other’s that they must have had the red string appear between them.

Blake glances down at her own red string, which connects her pinky finger to Yang’s. She looks up again at her soulmate, who’s also watching the three Huntresses scream.

Penny tackles Weiss and Ruby in what might just be the world’s deadliest group hug, considering how Crescent Rose is on Ruby’s back. Blake and Yang high-five each other before they remember their next objective.

“Clover, that’s cheating,” Qrow laughs as Clover flicks his pin and hooks one of the plastic fish.

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about,” Clover responds, giving him a wink as the disgruntled booth owner hands him a huge plushie that looks suspiciously like Zwei. “This was all skill.”

“Kiss, kiss, fall in looooove,” Yang whispers to Blake.

Blake stifles a laugh. She’s not wrong, though. If Qrow and Clover fall in love, their soulmate string is sure to appear. Of course, she could be completely wrong, and they might not be soulmates at all. But she’s never wrong. Not about these things, at least.

Clover turns and hands the Zwei lookalike to Qrow, who can barely wrap his arms around it. Their eyes meet, and Blake nearly squeaks when she sees the sheer emotion in Clover’s eyes. That’s love for sure. But what about Qrow?

Yang shouts in triumph and accepts the Beowolf plushie that the booth owner gives her. She turns to Blake and is about to offer it to her when she sees the distracted look in her girlfriend’s eyes.

“Give me a second,” Blake says to Yang, hoping her apology makes it into her tone. She hurries towards the other side of Qrow and Clover, trying not to be too suspicious.

Her Scroll rings in her pocket as she approaches them, and Blake answers it without a second thought. “Keep me updated,” Yang says over the line.

“Sure,” Blake replies as she gets in position behind Clover so she can see Qrow’s face. She raises the Scroll as close to her mouth as she can and whispers, “He’s blushing.”

“Clover is too, this is not a drill.”

“I give it three seconds.”

“We’ll see.”

From her current angle, Blake can’t see much, so she edges just a little more to the side. A certain kind of understanding passes between Qrow and Clover that she recognizes all too well.

Together, the two look down at their hands. Blake can’t see the string, but she knows it’s there by the way Qrow lifts his hand in wonder and stares at his pinky finger.

“Please let the string be red,” Yang says over the phone.

Right. Red for romance, white for friendship. “Pink is better,” Blake replies.

“Fair.”

They don’t get to know whether or not it’s red, white, or pink, but Blake’s pretty sure it’s safe to assume it’s not white. Not after the looks on their faces before and after the string appeared.

As if to confirm her thoughts, Clover surges forward and kisses Qrow, almost causing him to drop the toy. Blake leans to the side so she can meet Yang’s gaze as they both smirk.

When Qrow wraps his arms around Clover’s neck, Blake starts to leave, her work done. They separate before she makes it to Yang.

“I never thought I’d be able to…” Qrow trails off and shakes his head and leans back towards Clover, seemingly unable to find words. “I love you, Lucky Charm.”

“I love you too,” Clover responds, leaning in to kiss him again.

Blake and Yang share another high-five before they walk off, satisfied with their day’s work. First Penny, Weiss, and Ruby, and now Qrow and Clover.

“You know, we still have to beat Salem and all, but I’m pretty happy with what we have now,” Yang says to her as they walk off.

Blake nods. “It’s enough.” She wraps her hand around Yang’s.

By the way she knows Qrow and Clover are looking at each other, they think so too.