#the original signal was asking the last of the humans how they were spending the end of the world...

[darewolfcreates]

mmm... many thoughts...

[pacificgasandelectric]

Hiyah! Im sorry to interrupt you for a while, I know this might come strange but I just wanna ask for some help if you can maybe possibly take a look the post I pinned for my lil cat, we’re in desperate need of help so a reblog/boost might definitely help us a ton! I hope you’d consider but if not, its okay and I do understand! Wishing you good health and stay safe! Pls send me a msg for a response or answer the ask privately. 🙏🙏

so are u like a real human person running this scam or are u a bot

red flags that this is a scam, for any confused readers:

asking me to respond in private? what?? if a person wanted me to “signal boost” (which would be dumb bc my blog doesnt have a large following), they’d typically ask me (or a more popular blog, if they were smarter) to publish the ask or reblog their post so my followers would see it

the asker’s archive is turned off but a quick scroll thru their blog reveals that they’ve only been an active user since yesterday. (first post reblogged at (per my time zone) 6:11am on sunday, donation post made at 6:29am on sunday. yeah.)

the vast majority of their posts are pulled from one fandom tag (the last of us), and most of their reblogs are directly from the OP of the post, which is not how a “normal” tumblr user operates

no original posts by this user except for the one asking for money

(bonus: no tags on any reblogs)

two different names on the donate post: @Evan-Naeher for the venmo but Austin Tuck for the paypal. if ur gonna lie on the internet at least keep ur story straight <3

and, for people who genuinely need help, i HIGHLY recommend checking out some charity subreddits instead of making a donation post on tumblr; a random_acts_of_whatever subreddit is Dedicated to giving posters in it money, and will be frequented by people who WANT to give money, whereas a tumblr post asking for donations that circulates often winds up just being considered annoying, because people don’t typically expect or want to see a post asking them to spend money on a relative stranger on their dashboard.

[aio-rya]

Red Panda Headcanons

GN!Reader x Character

「Requested by: @kih-lux」

A/N: Kih~ you gave me the option and this was more focused to be a Male Reader but... It ended being more a Gender Neutral, I guess... I'll keep practicing.

・Floyd, Jade and Azul are ocean creatures, they know about hybrids and people like Ruggie, Leona and Jack, though they are aware there are other species, some of them are so rare and so unique it's far too difficult to have a chance of running into one of them. And, guess what? Yes, you were part of that category.

・"I've never seen one of your kind, why? Are you so rare? Are you from a far land? Wait, maybe you are... An endangered specie?". Be patient with the tweel, he has too many questions since his research hasn't been so long; you'll be pleased of helping him with that.

・Well, this couldn't result as you originally planned since Jade himself determined you were in nice shape, your body was as expected from a being half beast, half human. So, he decided you will be helping him on the Lounge too! So you could spend more time together, talking about you while working. Plus, he thought the contrast between your brune ears and tail made a nice contrast with the grey suit of Octavinelle.

・The curiosity soon transformed into interest, he started hanging out with you and even asked you to join his club! In fact, he thought you could enjoy it since your specie's homeland is a forest; you could help him learn from places he has never been before, though he would love to know if you remembered any sort of fungi of your homeland.

・Jade will be always respectful, asking before acting, having a special attraction for your tail and ears. He has seen things like those before, with Savanaclaw's dorm members, but you were specially cute for him. Since you had a special moment when you purred —because, yes, pandas actually purr.

・He loves the comparison you do about him being a bambu stick. His height is a bit far than yours so, when you hug him and tangle your tail on his legs it looks as if you were a red panda holding a bambu stick even though red pandas don't do that often.

・The Tweels are not used to cold, they prefer to stay on earth at winter, but that will not stop him from being warm with you. He loves your fur because of that, specially when you have sleepovers and you roll your tail against him to keep him warm.

・"What do we have here? A teddy bear?"; he will ask, mocking of you, looking at the cute red fur of your ears, caught by the white line on the side of them. You'd smile mischievously, sighing, not letting his height or his deep voice intimidate you, slowly approaching a couple of steps —instead of answering his provocation, you'll lift a hand, almost at the height of his face. "Ho... This herbivore has guts."

・"I'm no herbivore... Not at all", you'll answer, defending yourself as you show your retractile long, pointy claws to him. You'd swear everything you saw in his eyes at the moment was fear on its pure form, specially since you made this actually at his eyes' height. You'd dare to say you broke him but it'd be more accurate to tell you actually gained his respect.

・Well, your peculiar first meeting was just the beginning of what somehow became a love-hate friendship. Since he was the captain of your club and you shared more unexpected encounters than you'd have thought, you grew fond of each other; soon, going from one place to another together.

・Leona would question you a lot about your specie; he's used to carnivorous wild animals like Ruggie, like him or some cheetah or tiger hybrids, but you were a bit different. And even after you already explained him your situation, he would still mess around, giving you bambú sticks for snack between classes, just because he loves your upset expression and the way you wave your tail furiously and move your ears to the sides.

・You got to trust each other so far Leona sometimes dishevelled the fur of your cylindrical, thick tail; he was lot curious about it since it was far shorter than his very own. That meant, of course, you delighted yourself with payback; sometimes braiding the tip of his tail, or tangling his tie on a ribbon on it.

・Since you were both half animal, you knew exactly which points he'd like to be touched on. That was, somehow, cheating; specially when you found him angry and tried to make him relax, words wouldn't work so you'd stand behind him and caress his ears —of course you made him purr, you always do. That, suddenly, became an intimate thing only of you both.

・There's something Leona loves doing and not necessarily to bother you: paw your ears. For him, those are like marshmallows, the red fluff, more rigid and smaller than his own. He just melt for touching them, specially when you fall asleep because, yeah, pandas sleep as much as the Prince of Afterglow Savannah.

・He could not hide his surprise when he realised you were not completely human, you immediately caught his attention; furthermore, you were not a common specie, he deduced so by your smell. "Well, well... What do we have here? You look like Kingscholar but quite... Hm. Completely different."

・Malleus would come back to you often, some nights when he was trying to scape from his guards. But he will not arrive just like it; he will try to find some facts about you, ask you the less possible and make research by his own to know what you were, how to treat you? Until you became of more interest for him than your specie.

・Soon he discovered by your stories that you were alone too, still you had a family but your own specie was not very common, you made friends with another kind of hal-beasts and another species of pandas. That only made him to get attached to you, someone who could understand him!

・He got to hang out with you almost every night, reaching the point where he would go and look for you to your classrooms. Malleus thought at first you started fearing him too by the twitching of your ears, soon realising you just... Softened. The way you flattened your ears was signal of trust, you actually felt comfortable around him —you made the Heir of the Valley happy.

・As time passed by, you earned an inconditionnel friend, he would talk to you about almost anything you wanted to know while, in exchange, you taught him about your world, the "human" world. Soon, that became more physical, and now he pawed your ears when you leaned on his shoulder to listen at him and his tales.

・There were nights when he would take you to the castle's roof to talk more privately, or just to see the moon and the forest along the village in the distance. And many of those nights, you'd fall asleep, curled up against his legs with your tail swinging peacefully or just laying over your legs or hips; he would try to caress it, obviously not waking you up and, if you ever did, he will just blush and look away.

・You had your own tricks, sometimes when you went for a walk on the little forest around the castle, you climbed threes and hanged upside down trying to surprise him. Well... You even touched his horns. At first you were worried about him being mad but his laughter broke the tension on your shoulders. But of course, you had a tail and ears, so his payback was inevitable.

・"I have never seen someone liketh thee...", you heard the intrigue on his voice. He floated around you, upside down, analysing the visible characteristics that made you half an animal. When Lilia is curious, he's not very measured with his actions... Yeah, that means he will touch your fur.

・He'd love to study your reactions to many stimulus, so he will tease you in ways you can and cannot expect. Though you started being prepared, or at least a bit, you'd never anticipate when was he going to appear. You were basically on guard every time you were on the library or in the hallways until the final day came and he told you how interesting you were to him.

・You tried to do the same on him but the movement of your tail or even sometimes your little furry ears twitching will alert him of your presence. Since then, you both became almost inseparable; people could se him flying around you, upside down or just playfully, other times you just got to sit aside him but there were always laughter and smiles.

・Oh, true! He basically transformed you into a nocturnal creature. Once he introduced you into video-game's world, you started spending more time together, another fact reassuring him you were a panda: sleeping a lot on the evening, when classes or clubs were not taking place, and enjoying the night along him.

・That of course meant he must protect your ears from Sebek. His very own audition was sensible enough to be disturbed by the demi-fae loudness, but he was worried about you: since he knew you were a red panda and discovered pandas had developed very, very, very sensible ears due to not wanting to be hunted by predators, he would avoid having you and Sebek on the same room for too long.

・His protective instincts made their appearance. You seemed like a tender and lovely being for him, that was the reason why Lilia was concerned about you: even though you were half a human, most of your habits were of your animal part. He knew when you were sleepy and you tried to pretend you were not just to stay with him for a while, playing. He will, surprisingly, sing you a lullaby to make you sleep while he played one last round; keeping an eye on you, the way you curled up, the way your ears twitched.

・The way you met was... Amusing. Well, you see, one of your favourite spots for napping was the forest, the place where he usually made his patrols. Since his narcolepsy is always present, he tends to fall asleep in situations like this, what happened that day: he fell under your three and once you woke up together, you both got scared as hell.

・He started questioning you; why were you there? What were you doing? Who where you? You answered calmly, trying to calm him down since he was actually pointing at you with the sword. When he finished and put the blade down, you asked for him to answer the same question. And once you were aware of his condition, you understand everything and both bursted in laughter.

・There were to many incidental encounters with each other you ended up being friends. Sometimes you even went and looked for him deep in the forest, when you found him asleep you'll just sit by his side and read a book or play a bit with the animals surrounding him, usually birds. You cannot understand them, but when he woke up, he will always act as a translator for you.

・He had the opportunity of finding you asleep on the branch of a three or behind a rock, one of those times, curiosity took over him and he couldn't help but start petting you. Starting for your ears and your hair, getting startled when he heard you purring under his hand.

・Most of the time you surprised him at his night patrol, it was cold outside often, so you made a scarf for him. It matched with your tail and it was thick and furry too; your heart almost fell from your chest when you saw the happiness in his eyes. Now, when you were nap buddies, he will take it with him.

・He wanted to teach you something about him too so he used your free time to teach you fencing. Yes, he would usually bring another sword to the forest so you could kill time whenever you were not sleeping, reading or he was not on guard.

・Even Lilia cooked sometimes for Silver, he was aware of your existence. He was happy though about his little boy having a new friend... Well, deep inside himself, he was happy, just awaiting for Silver to know how love felt —in fact, he just wanted his child to go asking for advice.

[neversetyoufree]

I read the vanitas manga it's feels like queer bait to me, so many straight kisses but no gay ones? Vanitas & noe dancing is just more bait, Luna is a genderless vampire (non human) and that's it, everything else is bait just like the creator's last work

I've seen other blogs getting similar asks, so to be honest, I suspect that this isn't being sent in good faith. However, on the off-chance that this is a genuine question, or that anyone reading this has similar concerns, I'll try my best to answer this properly.

1. VnC is still a work in progress. Literally anything could happen before the ending, including canon queer people, and given the subtext we've seen so far, there's a part of me that's hopeful for it. If there were ever a shonen manga with a chance to give us legitimate rep among major characters, I feel this could be the one. I'm not going to say that just because a series so far hasn't had any explicit queer relationships, it never will.

I mean hell, just look at the show Hannibal. It's a gay love story, but the main characters spend the first season and a half getting romantically involved with a woman. One of them even gets straight married. These things happen, y'know? And even if we never see a kiss or anything, that doesn't mean something can't still be rep in a meaningful way.

2. As I've said before, even if we never do get more explicit representation than we have right now, this series will still be a very welcoming one to queer people in a way that I think is important. There is a lot of casual, subtle homophobia in the world of fiction, and VnC has had every opportunity to fall into those tropes, but it never does, and I think that's worth something in itself.

I think it’s valuable that we get to see a woman flirting with other women, and the joke isn’t “haha gay girls, that’s weird.” The only joke is how flustered the girls she flirts with get, because Domi is charming and forward. I think it’s valuable that we can see a couple of dudes dancing together, and nobody makes a thing out of it. There’s no commentary about how it looks gay. Neither guy is uncomfortable. They just. ballroom dance, and it’s fine. This may be hard to articulate well, but even if we never get Vanoé romance, and there’s nothing gay about that scene, that doesn’t mean it doesn’t still feel queer. I think the more we get to see that kind of casual same sex intimacy, whether it ends up romantic or platonic, the more welcoming the world becomes to actual gay people, because it does a lot to normalize that kind of interaction. So while you may disagree, I think that scene has a lot of worth.

3. I don’t know where you’re from, anon, but personally, I am pretty uncomfortable accusing MochiJun of queerbaiting, because I come from a wildly different cultural context. I am a whole-ass American, and though there are some especially obvious cases that I’ve joked about in the past, I am not qualified to try and have an actual educated discussion about queerbaiting in Japanese media. I’m not educated enough about gay rights and culture there. I don’t know what actual Japanese queer people would and would not consider good rep. I don’t know what issues people there are concerned with.

Plus, like, queerbaiting is a marketing tactic more than anything else. The issue comes from when you try to lure in an audience by signaling that your work is queer, then double back on that promise. It is entirely possible, though rare, perhaps, for an author to write something full of goddamn subtext without fully intending to do that. For a famous example, just look at the original Sherlock Holmes (the books, not the BBC show). A lot of people have read queerness in Sherlock and his relationship with Watson over the years (and funnily enough, Noé and Vani were conceived of as a Holmes and Watson relationship), but I’m not about to accuse Arthur Conan Doyle of queerbaiting, y’know? I’m not convinced that Mochijun has ever tried to hook people in under a false promise/suggestion of rep, which is what the real issue would be.

So like, without a better knowledge of Japanese queer culture/representation and a closer understanding of Mochijun’s own intentions with this series, “bait” is not an accusation I feel either of us should be making, anon.

4. It’s been a while since I last read the series, so perhaps I’m forgetting something, but I am legitimately racking my brain trying to figure out what in Pandora Hearts you’d consider queerbait, and I am coming up empty. The series doesn’t really have any representation in it, but it never tried to suggest that that wouldn’t be the case, and I cannot remember anything that ever toed the line of getting gay. If you’d like to tell me what exactly you mean when you say “just like the creator’s last work,” please feel free, because I am genuinely rather confused.

And if this was, in fact, a bad-faith ask rather than someone legitimately concerned or confused, then it is at this point I’d like to ask you to politely fuck off and please stop messaging people. As I said, I’ve seen at least one other person get a very similar message to this, which makes me suspect that you, anon, might be the same asker, which is honestly quite sad. Do you genuinely have nothing better to do with your time than try to make random strangers on the internet feel bad about the things they like? Is making ill-informed accusations of queerbaiting fun for you? Get a hobby bud.

[thatfanficstuff]

Asshole - Elijah Mikaelson

Pairing: Elijah x Reader

Warnings: Bullying, Assholes, Flangst

A/N: I’m gonna let y’all in on a little secret. When I can’t/don’t write for a long time, I find it incredibly hard to start writing regularly again. Part of me feels like I am incapable and the rest fears I am. Anyway, this took much longer than it should have. I hope you enjoy!

***

You sat at a table at the back of the Grill enjoying your own company and a well-aged Scotch. Well, as aged as it got at the Mystic Grill. You were supposed to have been spending your evening with Klaus and Kol but they’d opted out to take care of some business. Kol had sounded so sincere in his disappointment you couldn’t be mad at them.

After some indecision, you came to the Grill on your own. It had been a long week and you’d been looking forward to getting out of the house. You’d already eaten dinner and decided to have a couple of drinks before you walked home. Or maybe more than a couple since you were already on number three.

Your gaze jerked up from the glass in your hand when someone slid into the chair across from you. Seeing Damon, you started to smile before remembering he was no longer your friend. And as much as you didn’t want to let that bother you, it stung. The two of you had been near inseparable until you saved Kol from the mechanizations of the Scooby gang.

You’d chosen your side. It didn’t matter that killing Kol would have ended the lives of who knows how many vampires. Apparently slaughtering innocent people was only bad when the Mikaelsons did it. None of your friends would even attempt to see it your way. They’d cast you out and the Originals had taken you in. You tried not to be bitter about it. You even succeeded most of the time. Until moments like this anyway.

You clenched your teeth together and willed the tears that threatened to fill your eyes to fuck off. “Is there something you needed, Damon?”

Damon clicked his tongue before giving you a little smirk. “So testy. Can’t I just say hi to an old friend?”

“You can do whatever you want, but let’s not pretend that these aren’t the first words you’ve said to me in months. Whatever we are, we’re not friends. Not anymore.” And god you wished that didn’t hurt as much as it did.

He made a show of looking around the room. “I just noticed that you were alone. Not a Mikaelson in sight. Thought I’d check to see if you’ve finally come to your senses?”

You swallowed what was left of your drink in answer. Anything else you said would only lead to a repeat of the same argument you’d had a hundred times.

He tapped his fingers on the table. “I’ll take that as a no.” After a moment of silence, he pursed his lips and leaned forward. “Or perhaps they’ve learned that your loyalty is a fickle thing and they’ve kicked you out of their little family.”

“Fuck you, Damon.” You wished you hadn’t finished your drink so you could throw it in his face. “I wasn’t the disloyal one. All of you turned your back on me because I saved someone’s life.”

“Not just someone. Kol fucking Mikaelson. You knew it was a betrayal before you even did it. How were we supposed to overlook that? To ever trust you again?”

“Honestly, I thought you’d all lost your ever-loving minds. Why would any of you think it was okay to not only kill Kol but everyone that would go with him?”

“It was to save Elena.” Damon all but hissed the words.

“No. It was to make her human again. Big difference.” You leaned back with a frown and signaled for another drink. “You know, for someone that claims to love a vampire, she certainly has a deep-seated hatred for them.”

Damon’s gaze moved over you as though he were looking for something. It wasn’t until your drink was delivered that he spoke again. “They don’t care about you, you know. They never did. Getting you on their side just another way to get under our skin.”

You sipped at your drink as you looked him over. If he only knew the number of times you had convinced Klaus not to kill one of them. The number of times you’d redirected the hybrid’s rage or Kol’s anger. Then again, maybe he wouldn’t care at all. “I’m not a tool, Damon. I’d know if they were using me.”

His ever-present smirk faded as his eyes turned cold. “Would you? You believed everything I told you readily enough. Of course, you were so lonely you would have believed most anything, wouldn’t you? Anything to have a friend. Somewhere to go where you weren’t alone.”

You clenched your teeth tightly and refused to meet his gaze as he threw confessions made over late night glasses of Scotch back at you. “Were you never my friend then?” You hated yourself for asking the question. Even more for the way your voice broke as you did.

He tilted his head. “Oh sweetheart, why would I have been?”

And with that, he was gone. So nice of him to stop by. You downed what was left of your drink and signaled for another.

By the time you determined no amount of alcohol was going to erase Damon’s words from your brain, you were well and truly drunk. When the waitress came by to check on you, you ordered a glass of water and pulled out your phone.

You tapped your finger against the back of it as you thought. Going home to your empty house meant wallowing in self-pity until you passed out and then probably doing the same thing when you woke. Kol or Klaus were always your first call at moments like this, but you had no idea what kind of business they had to do and didn’t want to interrupt if it was something important. The last thing you needed was for them to be angry with you as well. Rebekah was out of town.

That left Elijah. You weren’t as close to him as the others through no fault of his. No, he’d gone out of his way to make you feel welcome, to extend the hand of friendship. But you were painfully shy when he was around. If there was one thing in life that could be counted on, it was the fact that you would be incredibly awkward around anyone you felt the slightest interest in. Poor Elijah probably thought you hated him. Klaus however thought the way you clammed up in his brother’s presence was hilarious.

Maybe that was the only reason they kept you around. Because you entertained them. At this point, did it really matter? Even if they didn’t need you, you needed them. Without the Mikaelsons you would be completely, utterly alone. Maybe you should start thinking about moving on. You could just start over somewhere else. Preferably somewhere with no supernatural drama. That would be fantastic.

After giving it another moment’s thought, you pressed the screen and called Elijah.

He answered on the second ring. “Y/N. Lovely to hear from you. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Tears flooded your eyes at the warmth in his voice and a lump formed in your throat. “I’m sorry to bother you, Elijah. I just…” You trailed off and sucked in a deep breath to keep from crying.

“Is everything all right?”

You cleared your throat. “Not really, no. Could you come pick me up at the Grill?”

“Of course.”

You hung up and slid your phone back into your pocket. After pushing yourself to your feet, you stood still for a moment to get your bearings. When you glanced toward the bar to signal for your check, your gaze met Damon’s. He smirked as he ran his eyes over you and saluted you with his glass, clearly knowing he was the reason for your current state. Deciding to wait for Elijah outside, you tossed enough money on the table to take care of your ticket and a generous tip.

The cool air bit at your skin as you stepped outside. You moved to the end of the building and leaned against the wall. You tilted your head back to lean against the brick. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath of the crisp air to sober yourself up a bit and drive back the tears.

“It’s not safe for you to be out here by yourself, Y/N. You never know who might wander by.” Damon’s voice cut through you but you maintained your position.

“Why are you doing this?” Relief flooded you when your voice didn’t break. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. “Just leave me alone.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

The only response that came to mind was telling him to fuck off so you kept your mouth shut and ignored him. Or you tried to at any rate.

A firm hand grabbed your chin and tilted your head down. The pressure he applied was enough to send a jolt of pain through your jaw. Your eyes shot open at the violation. “Don’t ignore me.”

You jerked your head to the side and he released you. “Don’t touch me.” At least the anger chased away the tears.

He placed his hands on either side of your head and leaned in until barely a breath separated you. You pushed against him though it did no good. You knew it wouldn’t but you couldn’t just stand there and let him do whatever he wanted. “Get away from me, Damon.”

“Why should I? You like vampires, don’t you, Y/N?”

Your eyes darted up to meet his and you realized that your comments about Elena had bothered him just as much as his words hurt you. Good. Asshole. “I like some vampires. I’m not particularly fond of you at the moment.”

He snarled and shoved himself off the wall putting some much needed space between the two of you. “You think you’re better than me? You’re nothing. Less than nothing. The only attention you received from me was pity.” Every word he threw at you struck like a physical blow. And the smile that crossed his face told you he was very much aware of it. But he wasn’t finished yet. “I pitied you, took you in and you repaid me by siding with the Mikaelsons. God only knows what they’re still keeping you around for but when they finish with you—after they’ve taken whatever it is they want from you—don’t come crying to us. Frankly, I’m glad to be rid of you. We all are.”

Hot tears began to leak down your cheeks and you wanted nothing more than to escape. Before you could run away or even think of another response, Damon was slammed face first into the wall beside you. You jumped away in response, relaxing when you saw it was Elijah holding him there. He had Damon’s arm twisted behind his back and kept him pressed to the wall with a hand between his shoulder blades.

“Get off me,” Damon demanded as he struggled to free himself.

Elijah ignored him, placing all of his attention on you. “Are you all right?”

You swallowed past the lump in your throat. “I’m not injured if that’s what you mean. He was just being an asshole.”

He hummed as he arched a brow. “Yes, well, it is Damon.”

The corner of your mouth kicked up and you wiped the tears from your cheeks. Elijah stepped back, pulling Damon away from the wall in the process though he still didn’t release him. “In the future, it would be wise for you to leave Y/N alone. The next time we have this conversation won’t end as pleasantly for you.” Only then did he let him go and Damon was gone in the blink of an eye.

Elijah placed his hand on your back to direct you to his car parked a short distance away. It wasn’t until he’d started to drive that either of you said anything.

“Would you mind just driving around for a while? If it’s not too much of a bother I mean.”

The silence stretched but you resisted the urge to look at him. Fresh tears were running down your cheeks and you preferred to keep that to yourself for the time being.

“Of course, it’s not a bother,” he finally responded, his voice quiet, concerned. “Whatever you need.”

Some time later you wiped the tears from your cheeks and turned to watch Elijah drive. His face was drawn and he had a firm grip on the steering wheel. He glanced your direction and smiled when he met your gaze. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You shrugged a shoulder. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Certainly.”

“Why do you keep me around?”

“What?” He couldn’t have sounded more surprised if he tried.

You turned your attention back to the view from your window. “Not you specifically. All of you. I mean, you don’t owe me anything if that’s what you think. Or maybe you just feel bad for me because everyone else is mad at me. You don’t have to. I’d do okay on my own.”

Elijah didn’t respond right away and you figured he was trying to think of a way to gently break the truth. Just as you were about to tell him it wasn’t necessary, the car slid to a smooth stop. You glanced around to see nothing but trees and you hadn’t been paying attention to the direction Elijah drove from town. You had no idea where you were.

“Look at me, Y/N.”

You turned in your seat so you faced him as much as possible. His dark gaze ran over you and if you didn’t know better, you’d swear you saw sorrow in his eyes. After a moment, he cleared his throat. “What exactly happened tonight?”

You glanced away as your hands twisted together in your lap. “Nothing. I told you he was just being an asshole.”

“Why don’t you try expanding on that a bit, sweetheart. I’m afraid I’m not buying it at the moment.”

You stayed silent as you figured out how to phrase everything so it would make sense.

“Y/N—” Elijah started and you held up a hand to cut him off.

“The thing about your best friend deciding they hate you is that they take everything they know about you and use it to hurt you. And god, Damon’s a pro at it. He hits the mark every time.”

“What do you mean every time? Has this happened before?” The irritation in Elijah’s voice made you smile.

“Not for a while. Right after the whole Kol thing, it happened almost daily. I figured he was done being an ass to me. Guess I was wrong.”

“Why did you not say anything?”

You shrugged again. “It didn’t seem important at the time. I just quit going anywhere I might run into him or the others unless one of you was with me. I figured it had been long enough I’d be safe to have dinner and a couple of drinks without a bodyguard.”

His hand reached out to cover yours where they still twisted together in your lap. Your face heated immediately but you didn’t pull away. “Y/N, if it was bad enough to keep you from living your life the way you wished, it was very important. I can’t believe none of us were aware of this.”

You shook your head, not wanting to argue the point. “It was just pokes. Snide comments, dirty looks. Tonight though…He said he was never my friend. That he pitied me and took me in and I betrayed them. He said there was no reason for anyone to ever be my friend.” Your voice trailed off at the end until it was barely audible. And once again you found yourself unable to look the vampire in the eyes.

He hummed in acknowledgement and released his hold on your hands. Seconds later he was out of the car and opening your door. He offered you a hand to help you out and you took it with no hesitation. He led you toward the front of the car before lifting you and placing you on the hood. You looked up at him with wide eyes as he stepped forward, placing himself between your knees.

One hand settled on your waist while the other hooked around the side of your neck, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw. You swallowed past the lump in your throat as he stared down at you with a serious expression. “Listen to me, Y/N. The Mikaelsons pity no one. We are a thousand years old. We have long ceased wasting our time on those that we deem unworthy. Damon is simply pissed that he never wormed his way into your bed before you proved yourself to be monumentally out of his league.”

The corner of your mouth kicked up a bit at that though you weren’t sure you believed him. There was one part of what Damon said that still bothered you. “He said once you all get what you want from me, you’ll toss me away and I’ll be alone again.”

His hold tightened enough to let you know he was upset but not enough to hurt. His jaw set and he took several breaths before responding. “The only thing my siblings desire from you is your companionship, Y/N.”

There was a brief flash of hurt that he hadn’t included himself in the statement. The look in his eyes had you pressing for more. “And you? What do you desire from me, Elijah?”

The press of his lips against yours was an answer you could never have anticipated. His hands pulled you forward and you slid off the hood to erase the space between your bodies. The hand on your neck shifted to bury his fingers in your hair while his other arm wrapped around your waist. Your hands gripped the lapels on his jacket as you tried to pull him closer.

Finally, the two of you separated and your chest heaved as you sucked in much needed air. “That was…unexpected,” you breathed.

“Unexpected but not unwelcome I hope.” A smile flirted with his lips as his dark gaze studied you.

You shook your head and he kissed you again before resting his forehead against yours. “I’m sorry Damon hurt you, Y/N. I won’t allow it to happen again.”

“How can he possibly hurt me when I have you to protect me?”

His low chuckle rolled through you as you leaned up to kiss him again. As his hands gripped your waist you couldn’t help but be a little bit grateful that Damon was such an asshole.

[writingsbychlo]

white christmas | thomas

word count; 16,567

summary; after some unexpected snow ruins your christmas day plans, you spend your first christmas as a married couple making it up as you go along.

notes; this is a follow up (and the final part to!) ‘Sin City’ and ‘Sun City’. I was actually originally going to call this ‘Snow City’ but I wasn’t sure how that would go down. anyways, go enjoy.

warnings; smut, unprotected sex, cum play, breeding kink

When you woke up, it was to the sound of the coffee machine whirring slowly in the kitchen, and you rolled over, patting at the spot next to you, and pouting when it came up empty. The sheets were still warm to the touch, and you sighed, cracking an eye open to look at the place. The bedding was still crumpled, tucked back up and over you, and there was a barely visible sliver of light creeping in from the crack in the curtains, lighting up the room.

The alarm clock read just after ten, a sleep in for the both of you, but you deserved it on Christmas Day, and you smiled, the joy of the day washing over you once again. It was cold, unusually so for Vegas, and a chill ran over you as you sat up. Your legs were bare beneath the covers stretched out and staying warm, but the tank top on your upper body did little to warm you now that your human furnace of a husband had left you.

When you finally found the motivation to move, it was only to find a cardigan, tugging it over your arms and rolling the knitted sleeves up and out of your way to sit at your mid-forearms, and searching for a pair of pants. A plaid pair of sleep pants that belonged to your lover, tying them at the waist nice and loose as they sat over your stomach, just enough to be comfy, before you were trailing through the house. He was facing the counter, scrolling through his phone and chewing on a piece of a granola bar idly, the machine still dripping coffee through slowly.

He scarcely even flinched as you made your presence known, your arms slipping around his waist and face pressing between his shoulder blades as you left a kiss to the material of his shirt covering his back, before pressing your cheek over the patch. His free hand came down to settle over your own, squeezing lightly, and humming as he acknowledged you.

“Mornin’, baby.”

“Merry Christmas.” You teased, a sweet chuckle leaving him, before he was putting his phone down, and twisting in your arms to see you instead. Cupping your face, he leaned down, pressing a sweet hiss to your lips, and you licked the slightly sticky residue of honey away when he pulled back, the faint traces of his pre-breakfast snack still lingering on his mouth.

“Merry Christmas to you, too.”

You only nodded, bumping the tip of your nose against his needily, and he caught the hint, laughing lightly and letting his breath wash over your face as his lips brushed yours. “More? What, all the love and affection you got last night wasn’t enough for you?”

“Yesterday was a completely different day. I haven’t had nearly my quota for kisses yet today.”

“Well, guess I can’t argue with that logic.” His words were mumbled, thumbs smoothing over your cheeks, before dipping down to catch your lips with his own, a slow and lazy kiss that was perfect for the mood. You didn’t need much, and you were past the thrill of overexcited Christmas mornings, you weren’t a child anymore, and one day, your house would be filled with kids of your own, to have those over-excited Christmas mornings again, so you were simply soaking up the bliss of a quiet and hazy one with your husband now.

His tongue teased along your lower lip, pressing lightly at the seam in which they connected, prompting you to part them for him, and you were more than happy to grant him that access. He fell backwards when your hands disconnected from around his waist, smoothing up his back and around his body, until one was sitting on his chest, the other weaving into his hair. His back pressed to the counter, supporting you as you leant up on him, sighing against his mouth.

A breathy groan sounded in the air, deep from him as it originated in the back of his throat, vibrating through you in a way that made you tremble a little under his touch. Your head tipped to the side, a raspy breath taken in before letting him dive back into you once again, your heart racing in your chest and the tips of his fingers dug a little harder into your jaw. You loved knowing you still had this kind of effect on him, and that he had this effect on you, even after being married and having been together for so long, and you truly hoped that the passion between you both never dulled.

When the machine beside you beeped to signal the end of its rotation, he finally pulled away, lips shining and red, the hints of beginning to swell, and he ran the pad of a thumb over your own, before he was pressing back into you, stealing a series of small kisses again, dipping you backwards, until you were out of breath but laughing, cheeks flushing as the need to breathe overwhelmed you, but the way his teeth were scraping lightly at your lower lip was far more intoxicating.

He was beaming when he pulled away, bringing you in close to him again, a hand dropping down to sit on your lower back, pulling you into his body, and letting him spin you both around, so that he could reach for the coffeemaker with the other. He poured two mugs, adjusting the sugar and creamer for you both while never letting you go, holding you close, even when you leaned away for utensils and condiments, working together, a laugh on your lips at the overly wet kiss he pressed to your cheek.

His declaration of love may not have been verbal, but it was clear in everything he did, from the littlest touches to the way he held you close, and the way he made easy gestures such as coffee in the morning or tucking the sheets back over you to keep you warm when he left the bed, endearment in every action he took.

“What are we going to do about today, hm?”

He sipped his drink after asking the question, staring at you pointedly, and your brows furrowed, pausing as you lifted your own hot drink into your hands, and frowning. “We’re going to Newt’s, he’s having everyone over for Christmas, and this is the first year that we can kiss under the mistletoe and exchange gifts without pretending to just be half-friends and half-colleagues, tight smiles and seemingly forced hugs when really, I just want to kiss you senseless and wipe the foam away from the edge of your mouth when you get cream on your lip every single time we have hot chocolate.”

“Oddly specific, have you been daydreaming a lot?” He teased, your cheeks flaring up with heat as you shot him a false glare, but he only grinned, before pouting, and tapping at his lips for a kiss. You hesitated, for only a moment, that second being long enough for punishment, before you leaned up and kissed him sweetly. He seemed satisfied with it, but his original question was still ringing in your mind, and he seemed to pick up on that too, being able to read you like a book at this point; “Go look outside the window, honey.”

He tipped his head towards the tipped up blinds, and you padded over, pulling one down and peeping out, gasping a little in shock at the thin blanket of white that was covering the garden, and the roofs of the other houses, the roads undisturbed as nobody had yet dared to drive along them.

“It’s bad luck, I guess.”

“It’s not that bad, right?” You turned back to him, the realisation of just why it was that it had been quite so cold this morning coming through, and you rubbed at your arms a little, wrapping your cardigan around yourself a little tighter. “What, it's like, two or three inches? We can handle that!”

“Yeah, but, it was a bit rainy yesterday, and the temperatures dipped under during night, so it froze over. There’s going to be hidden ice on the roads, and I’m not used to driving in snow. I don’t want to risk it, baby.” You frowned, staring up at him with wide eyes as you stopped before him, and he ran a hand over your cheek, kissing the other side, but it did little to raise your low spirits. “Not when I’d have such precious cargo on board.”

“I’m not precious cargo.” You grouched, and he chuckled.

“You’re the most precious cargo to me.” He denied, and your arms crossed over your stomach, rolling on the balls of your feet as he turned away, making his way over to the fridge. It was somewhat empty, only a large bowl of mashed potatoes that would have served fifteen people being what you were supposed to be taking, and yet you still had no idea what you would whip up for your breakfast or dinner, but you supposed you’d make it work. “Anyway, Minho just texted and said he and Brenda aren’t going to make it either, and Newt’s boyfriend can’t get over from his parents who he stayed with last night, so we figured we could just video chat, or something, instead.”

“Yeah, okay.”

He turned around to face you at the sound of disappointment in your voice, growing a little at the dismayed look on your face, and he closed the refrigerator door, leaning against it and crossing his arms. “Hey, c’mon, cheer up. Maybe it’ll be nice to have our first Christmas as a married couple to ourselves. Didn’t you say you wished we’d have a white Christmas?”

“Yeah, but I was excited to see our friends.”

“We’ll make it work, angel, don’t worry.” He rubbed his hands up and down your arms, tempting you to let go of the tense distress you were holding, and it worked, your shoulders slumping as you gave in, offering him a smile when he cheered lightly at feeling you melt a little under his persuasion. “Want me to warm you up, sweetheart?”

A scoff left you, and you shoved at his chest, letting him snicker as you walked away, flipping him off a little over your shoulder, and moving back to the bedroom to get your phone. There were notifications from the girls, and your family, all wishing you a ‘Merry Christmas’ and good thoughts, and you returned it to them as you walked back through, straightening the bedsheets back out and opening the curtains before you did.

When you returned to the kitchen, the sweet smell of fruit and pancakes filled the air, a batter being whipped up by the man you loved, and you hopped up to sit on the kitchen island in the centre of the room. You were just beginning to open your emails when your phone lit up with a call, and you jumped slightly, before answering it, cheering a little as you greeted your friend.

“Hey, Newt! Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas to you as well, love. Tommy, too, is he there?”

“Yeah, he’s here, standing right in front of me at the stove.” You reached a foot out, tapping at his ass with your toes and giggling as he jumped, turning to glare at you for the action, red tinging his cheeks, before he was slapping your foot away gently. “Sorry we can’t see you today, who would’ve guessed we’d get snow in Vegas, huh?”

“Maybe it’s because of your wish for a ‘white Christmas’, you jinxed it.” Your husband taunted, reaching for a pan, and you scowled at him, rolling your eyes fondly, and you could hear your friend laughing down the line of the phone as he listened in.

“You two have always bickered like a married couple, and we always wondered why. Now you really are a married couple, and it’s still the biggest reveal of the century.”

“What can I say? Keeping you lot in the dark made it all the more fun for us. The sneaking around was hot.” Thomas cheered loudly at your words, heating up some butter over the flame, and beginning to cook your breakfast, Newt gagging falsely into the speaker.

“I didn’t need to know what kinky shit the two of you use to keep your relationship alive, thanks.”

“Yeah, yeah. If that’s not what you wanted, then why did you call, huh?” You leaned over again, poking at your husband with your foot, and he reached down, a hand wrapping around your ankle, thumb smoothing over your skin, and he held onto you lightly, using his other hand to flip the pancakes over to let the other side begin to cook.

“Just wanted to check if four was a good time for you both, that’s when everyone else can get online. Some of us have familial commitments and such, not just fucking like weirdly-secretive bunnies to fill the schedule, so we figured it’d work for you, too?”

“Hey, Tommy, four works for us, right?” He held up his other hand in a thumbs up, before piling pancakes up on a plate, and letting go of your leg, allowing it to fall back to swinging under the counter, and beginning to fill the pan up again. “Yeah, four o’clock works for us.”

“Great, see you then, love.”

“Bye, Newt.”

The line went dead, and you placed it down, laughing a little to yourself once again over his comment, and Thomas offered you a smile over his shoulder.

As the pancakes were finished, he created a pile of them on a plate, before bringing them over and placing them on the counter beside your legs, blueberries shining through within them, steam rising up from the plate, a knife and fork following, and he grabbed the whipped cream from the fridge, shaking it up.

“Feelin’ a little more cheery now, angel?”

“Yeah, I guess so. Like, a seven out of ten.” You sighed, picking up the cutlery, and he stuck his lower lip out in false sympathy.

“Only a seven? We gotta’ fix that.” He nudged the plate closer to you, a dollop of cream sprayed onto the plate beside the heap, and your stomach grumbled happily at the sight of the meal before you. “Eat your pancakes, sweetheart.”

“What about you?”

“I already know what I’m gonna’ eat.” He winked, a lazy drop of one eyelid, before he was filling his mouth with the whipped treat and leaning in to place a messy kiss to your lips, the taste of the sweet and creamy condiment spreading to your mouth as your groaned, feeling rough hands slide up your thighs and squeeze roughly. His hands were tugging at the ends of your shirt, your cutlery clattering back to the counter to shuck off your cardigan, before he was pushing your top up and over your head, breasts falling free and nipples pearling in the cold air. “Let me warm you up, honey, make it all better.”

You could only nod, back arching into his touch when you felt the nozzle of the canister run down between your tits, before crying out when the chilled dessert was sprayed in a swirl over one of your nipples. He repeated the action on the other to match, before a line was moving along your chest, right to your navel, and you lay back on the counter, head hanging over the other side.

“You look so sweet, baby, and I know just how good you taste, can’t wait to get my mouth on you.” Two fingers pressed to your core through the plaid pants you wore, rubbing softly and you keened up into his touch. A hot mouth descended to your neck as his fingers worked slowly, kissing lightly along your neck, drags of his teeth to make you shiver, and he sucked roughly at your collarbones in a way that made you shake. He knew all of your weak spots, and all of the pieces that made you weak, having learned your body like the back of his own hand, experience over years of patience and testing, and when he finally moved down to your chest, you knew there would be marks all along your skin come tomorrow, showing up in dark bruises that matched his mouth perfectly.

He bit down, just enough force to make you cry out his name, on the side of your breast and licking it to soothe it, before his mouth was closing over one perky nipple.

The topping there was lapped away, tongue dragging in deliberately slow and teasing motions, your head spinning at the feeling of the bud being rolled along his tongue, nibbled on slightly until the skin was raw in a delicious way that always made everything feel ten times better, beginning to grow sensitive under the attention he gave to you, before he switched to give the other the same treatment. Your hand laced into his hair, holding him to your chest, a groan leaving him as your nails scratched over his scalp, the feeling vibrating along every nerve in your body until your fingertips were tingling, toes curling from where your legs dangled.

“Tommy..”

“God, I love the way you sound when you moan my name. So fuckin’ hot.” His words were a little slurred, his own arousal seeping through, and he was cleaning your skin of the cream he’s left there, licking his way down along your body until you were no longer coated in the substance, and he was sinking to his knees, fingers hooked into the band of your pyjamas and you could barely lift your hips up to help him, body trembling with need and desire, and he tugged them away, discarding them to the floor, along with your panties. “Pretty little pussy, dripping for me, so perfect.”

Kisses along your inner thighs, and you whined out, legs being lifted up to rest over his shoulder, ankles loving behind his neck, and for a moment, heat simply washed over your centre from his panted breaths, before he was indulging himself in your sodden core.

A loud cry, bouncing off of all the walls in the kitchen was emitted from you as you felt the tip of his tongue parted your folds, teasing around your entrance before flattening along your middle. He took his time, cleaning you of everything that you had to give, juices dripping out of your more and more, the longer he teased you and waited, and you could already feel yourself finding it harder to breathe, white-hot heat scorching along your body as he treasured you, devouring you like his final meal.

There were times when Thomas was quick and rough, sucking and biting at your clit with just enough pain to make you cry and scream in all the best ways, before fucking you with his tongue until you were shaking and no longer sentient, but then there were times like today.

These were the moments when he really took his time, tongue swirling along you, dragging around your clit until it was throbbing, tears lining your eyes from desperation, before is lips were brushing over the bead, enough to make a jerky motion journey along your entire body as you reacted to that simplest and lightest of touches with so much need.

“Oh, fuck, please, Tommy..”

“Want my mouth, huh, baby? Look at you, all whiny and desperate. Love it when you’re like this, needy for what only I can give you.” He gave into you when another pleading noise roe up from your throat and into the air, thumbs smoothing up along your thighs to part your folds, revealing the little bud to him entirely, and he dragged the roughness of his tongue over it slowly, broken gasps leaving you as your body spasmed a little, the stimulation so welcome and craved that your head went blank as he finally gave you what you wanted. “Needy baby, all for me.”

You would’ve retorted, snapped back, had anything to say, had it not been for his lips wrapping around your clit, sucking on it harshly as your hips bucked up into his face, and your eyes rolled back in your head. A finger prodded at your core, a single digit slipping into your velvet channel with ease, and your walls clenched frantically around the finger from the moment he had sunk right down until his knuckles were pressed to your flesh. He could reach deeper than you ever could and you couldn't drag oxygen into your body in even half-lungfuls anymore because he was driving you insane, twisting and curling that finger, just enough to rub at your walls, teasing you as he searched for that spot that drove. you wild.

He knew where it was, his fingertip brushing against it, and when you keened up, loud sobs of his name falling from your lips, he chuckled into your skin. Abusing both patches that made you crazy, inside and out, he was a deadly combination, slow motions making you wish he’d speed up, but he was dragging it out, knowing that if he kept it up, you’d melt, become utterly senseless and completely empty of any thought or complaint about the day, and that was where he wanted you.

You knew he did, he wanted you blissed out, cum-drunk and dazed, so that you wouldn't be sad about missing your friends or not getting to celebrate how you wanted, and you were more than happy to give in to that whim if it meant you were allowed to chase the orgasm that was steadily building within you at the momentum because as that spring wound up tighter and the heat rose, there wasn’t a single thought in your head except reaching climax, and chanting your husbands name as his mouth worked you over.

Your hand was tangled in the dark chocolate locks atop his head, still messy and mussed from sleep, now even more fucked-up as you tugged at them limply, body going weak as you teetered on the edge of your peak. As though sensing how close you were, his attention moved from your swollen bud, down further, slurping up hungrily at everything you’d given him, everything he’d drawn from you, before this tongue was plunging into your centre.

At the touch, you exploded, stars flashing behind your eyes as you came undone around his tongue,  and he moaned himself, loudly and unashamedly as his fingers flexed against your thighs, wiggling tightly and holding them apart as they trebled, legs attempting to snap closed around his head and he never let up on his assault, tongue fucking in and out of you as your walls fluttered.

He’d given up on the soft and lazy act, becoming impatient himself, and he’d always been vocal about how much he loved to be buried between your thighs, but sometimes, it still surprised you, times like now, when he was selflessly desperate to feel you come undone again, to lick you clean as juices flowed from you, and your head was spinning as you neared yet another edge.

He pulled back, two fingers delving into your folds, moving at speeds you could barely comprehend as they slammed in and out of you, your cries growing in volume until you were screaming his name, arching up and quivering against the marble countertop, before he placed a final nip to your clit, humming proudly and contentedly as he felt you cum again. Juiced dripped down his wrist, pooling on the floor in droplets, tears dripping from your eyes, chest heaving for breath, and when you couldn’t take it anymore, he pulled back. Licking you clean and leaving you to beg and plead, spasming atop the tabletop, he left you clean of slick and cum, kissing his way back up your body until he was standing between your parted thighs, the tip of his nose nudging under your jaw.

“Better?”

You made a vague sound of questioning, too fucked-out to even open your eyes, and you were sure Thomas’ chest was puffing out, ego swelling at just how he managed to get you like this, and he pulled away. Sucking wet fingers into his mouth to clean them off, he used his other to pull you up into a sitting position, goosebumps rising along your skin as the chill in the room began to seep back in.

You waved a hand around loosely for your top, finding it and tugging it back on, barely checking it was on the right way, before your cardigan was following. Large hands were still massaging along your legs, which were now wrapped around his waist, and you jumped a little as his thumb smoothed over a deliciously sore bite mark that he’d left on your inner thigh.

“That was fucking fantastic.” You murmured, wrapping your arms around his neck, and he beamed, pride rising within him, but he didn’t comment on it. “Best Christmas present ever.”

“Don’t say that, you haven’t even opened my gifts yet. I’ve got you beat this year, there’s no way you can top it.” You cracked a smirk, shrugging at him and resting your cheek to his shoulder.

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that, I have a pretty great gift for you myself.” His hands smoothed up and down your back under your jacket, warming you up through and through just with the loving touches he gifted to you. It was moments like these that you would always remember; sex with Thomas was mind-blowing and spectacular every single time, but it was the moments after that were what made your relationship what it was, the way he’d hold you so lovingly, touch you with such tender adoration that you felt your heart may actually explode, ad he did it all because he wanted to, not because e was expected to or he thought t would make you happy, but purely because he desired to be with you as much as you with him. “Can I have my pants back now?”

“Think you need new ones, yours are pretty wet.” There was a tone laced to his voice that made shy and embarrassed warmth flood your face once again, making you glad he couldn't see you from where you were buried in his neck, but not missing the way his foot was rubbing the garments across the tiles to dry the floor, before flicking them away a little.

“Okay, but let me down, because I’m still hungry, and I want those pancakes.”

He held you a second longer, a light squeeze, before he stepped back and let you go, tapping at your ass in a cheeky spank as you bent to collect your discarded clothes to take to the laundry, before you were walking away from him with a skip.

A new set of clothes, a trip to the bathroom to clean yourself up, and running a brush through your hair to fix it and pull it out of your face and into a reasonably controllable bundle on your head. When you reentered the kitchen, Thomas was sitting on one of the stools, using your knife and fork to eat the half-cold pancakes, and you grabbed your own set, sitting opposite him, and tucking in.

The meal consisted of laughs, and jokes, hinting at gifts for one another without ever quite giving them away, and then, making a plan for your day. You didn’t have the right ingredients to make a Christmas dinner, and an entirely free day, where you would have been leaving in half an hour to make your way over to Newt’s place. Instead, you would exchange your gifts together, and make your attempt at a decent Christmas dinner, before video chatting with your friends for a while, and finishing off the day with a movie.

It wasn’t the Christmas you’d planned, but it would be perfect in its own way.

The tree lights were twinkling softly, glittering on the wrapping paper you had covering your gifts neatly underneath, a matching set in a different colour, reindeers dancing across the front in a gift wrap Thomas had chosen for you. Your untouched coffee was now cold, and you tipped it away, getting a new mug out and filling the kettle under the tap, before setting it off. A herbal tea bag was placed into the mug, a spoonful of honey and a slice of lemon to follow, before a pair of arms were wrapping around your waist.

“Hurry up, I want you to open your gift already.”

“Patience is a virtue.” You hummed, and he sighed loudly, shuffling in a little closer to you. His chin hooked onto your shoulder, hot breath fanning over your cheek, followed by a seat kiss, and you leaned back a little into his chest. Your hands rested over your hips where his hand had joined, squeezing lightly, and nuzzled a little further into you. “Besides, I already told you that my gift is going to win this year.”

“I won for the last two years and Valentine’s Day, you don’t stand a chance.”

You rolled your eyes, grinning a little at his competitive side beginning to shine through, and as the kettle finally clicked off, water boiling, you filled your mug, stirring it lightly to spread the flavour, before nudging him backwards with your hips, hearing him groan a little as you did, a false glare on his face form the way you’d pressed your ass up against him to get him to move, but then, he was following you to the living room.

You blew the steam from your mug, fingers wrapping around the warm ceramic, the smell of apple and cranberry drifting up to your nose, surrounding you and soothing any worries you may have as you settled down onto the couch. Thomas stood before the tree, one foot poking at the gifts sitting under the decorative branches, assessing them all, before turning to look at you. “Save the best for last?”

There was a smirk on his face, and you mirrored it, his eyes narrowing on you a little bit. “Works for me.”

“Great, so I’ll give you a gift last, then?”

“For now.” His cocky tone was enough to make the game a little more exciting, and he rose a brow, turning to motion at the gifts that you’d placed there, before lifting one up for you. He handed it over, before looking back at the ones for him, and waiting for you to guide him. “Open any, the winning gift isn’t under the tree.”

“I think you’ll find it is.” He teased, pointing to the one he’d wrapped himself, before grabbing the first glitter package with his name on that he could reach.

“Actually, it’s over here, sitting on the couch.” A wicked grin on your lips, and his eyes scanned over you, jaw dropping a little, and you watched as his eyes went half-lidded for just a second, wondering just how filthy his mind had gone, and then he was chewing on his lower lip, seeming to snap back to reality, his gaze snapping up from your tits to your eyes.

He pounced, two strides closing the distance, before one hand was supporting himself on the back of the couch as he leaned over you, pressing a long kiss to your lips, licking his way into your mouth, and groaning a little at the way you pressed back into him just as eagerly, one hand lacing into his hair, pulling on the strands slightly. When he pulled back, it was with your lower lip between his teeth, growling lightly, before letting it go. “I can’t wait to unwrap that gift later, then.”

“Alright, hot stuff.”

He beamed, taking a seat beside you and placing the sparkly package onto his lap, a few pieces of glitter falling away to decorate his pyjama pants, but he was too excited to steady himself anyway. Tearing at the paper, he left it scattered along the living room floor, stripping the gift of its concealment, and lifting it up to take a look. The pause only lasted for a second, before he was lighting up with joy, and turning to look at you with wide eyes.

He'd been talking about it for months, but he had no idea what it was called, or where he would find it, and he was pretty sure he’d never find it. It was a printer for his earpieces, creating custom little cases that he could put on them, so that the boring piece of plastic that he had to wear in his ear all day, every day, on the casino floor, could finally be something a little more exciting.

“I can’t believe you found it!”

“It wasn’t easy to find, at all. What are you going to print first?” He considered it, staring down at the box, before shrugging his shoulders, mind coming up clear.

Flicking your finger under the edge of the wrapping, it popped loose, and you continued to go, watching as he twisted towards you a little more. It was a set of your favourite skincare products, ones that you’d been running out of and kept intending to get more of but always seemed to forget about somehow, and he’d clearly been browsing the website, because the box was stuffed full of all different types of new products, samples and new things to try, as well as bath bombs and room sprays.

The rest of the gifts followed along much the same pathway, simple gifts that were more practical than special, but meaningful nonetheless. You got him new boxers, with reindeers and baubles on, and he smirked as he gave you a new set of lc that could scarcely be counted as underwear, before following it with a filthy kiss and whispered promises for later.

You got him new cologne with a matching shampoo and body wash set, and he got you a new blazer for work after your last one ripped, and you opened all the gifts from your friends and family that were still sitting there. Your last gift to him has been tap bracelets, ones that he could wear at work for when he was feeling anxious, so that yours would buzz whenever he tapped it, and he got a little teary at the gesture.

As the room was littered with ribbons, bows, and torn paper, he picked up the last gift and waved it a little, the couch bouncing underneath you as he flopped back onto the cushions, sitting beside you. “So, not that those bracelets aren’t amazing - because they are - but they can’t top this. Are you ready for the best gift of the year?”

“I suppose so.” You wiggled your fingers, in a ‘gimme’ motion, and it handed it over. You were no longer delicate with the opening, tearing at the paper roughly to reveal what was inside, and shucking it of the silk that hid it, before lifting it up to get a better look.

It was a scrapbook, a beautiful fake-leather design that had golden-embossed letters across the front. Opening it up, there was a small gasp on your lips, pictures of yourself and Thomas that you’d never seen before, right from the very first hours of your wedding.

You hadn't even put on your dress yet, still standing with your hair pinned back waiting to be styled, make-up half done, and a glass of champagne in hand as you laughed with you friends, a shot clearly taken by one of the girls who’d been with you that morning as you got ready. Another beside it was of Thomas, face red and a slightly panicked look on his features as he stood with his shirt half-buttoned, one shoe in hand as he stared around the room for the other, a note written underneath that Newt had hidden it from him just to fuck with him.

Turning the pages, you found ones that were more professional, outtakes from the photographer that weren’t ones that had ever made the cut, slightly blurry ones or the sun shining across the scene, ones where you weren’t looking or weren’t as visible in crowds, and yet they were perfect. Every glance you had cast Thomas, all the moments between you both that the photographer had somehow seemed to capture, memories you didn’t even realise you had all flooding back, the little moments that weren’t staged or pressured like a first dance, your lips sat parted in awe. They had gone one, too, print outs and pictures from your honeymoon, photos you had taken together, or hadn't realised he had taken at all.

“Did you make this yourself?”

“I had a little help, but mostly, yeah. Is it okay?” He lifted his hand to his face, chewing on his nail lightly as he stared at you, and you reached a hand out, bringing it away from his face, and leaning in a little closer to him. He sighed in relief, sensing where this was going, and moving in close enough to rest his forehead against your own.

“It’s perfect, I love it.”

He let out a little laugh, nodding his head to himself in confirmation, before closing the gap. It was a sweet and soft kiss, one that conveyed everything that needed to be said, and paper crinkled loudly as he shifted, pushing it away to the side, falling to the floor after being removed from where it was pressed between your bodies as he pulled you in closer, and you held his face with both hands, nails scratching lightly at his jaw, freshly shaven and soft skin making him shudder as you scratched at it lightly.

“I love you.”

“I know, I love you too.” His mouth moved, trailing along your skin to your cheek, kisses being pressed all the way along, up your temple to your forehead, and your face screwed up at the ticklish feeling, making him laugh as he felt your features wrinkle under his lips. “Gettin’ on into the day, want to go find something to make for Christmas dinner?”

“Absolutely.”

He stood first, offering his hands out to you and pulling you to your feet when your fingers slid into his and held on tight, and he winked a little, hands slipping around behind you, pinching at your ass cheekily and making you jump, shrugging when you gasped and fixed him with a questioning look.  “You’re just hot. Your ass has been looking great lately.”

“You’re so horny, all the time.”

“Because my wife is hot, that’s why.” You rolled your eyes, letting him walk a step ahead of you, and you placed a loud smack on his ass as he went, watching as he turned to face you with a dropped jaw and pink cheeks, grabbing at his own ass for protection as he walked backwards. “You did not!”

“What can I say? You’re just hot. Your ass has been looking great lately.” He mimicked you childishly, a grin taking over his features despite it, and he snatched up both of your hands in his, holding them up high like a revered and feared weapon, dragging you into the kitchen as you stumbled over your own feet.

In the freezer, you had a small batch of chicken, some frozen vegetables and an apple pie. In the fridge, you had some potatoes, and enough spices in the cupboards to make decent gravy. He boiled water while you sliced the potatoes, dropping them in to begin boiling, and turning up the radio to listen to the Christmas songs that were playing. Once your chicken and potatoes were in the oven, you chopped up some veggies for roasting, hearing him clatter around in the cupboards, and he insisted that you stayed turned around to face the counter.

When he finally let you look, there was a tablecloth that you had forgotten you even had laid out, white with a few stains around the edges, and a faded and slightly purple mark in the middle from where wine had been split on it and never property come out before it had been permanently put away, but he’d carefully covered it by placing your vase full of winter flowers in the middle. There was cutlery laid out ready, and bowls and plates, and he was overly proud of himself for the decorations, chairs pulled around a little so that you’d still be able to see one another, instead of being blocked off by the centrepiece.

“So, guess what I found while setting up the table?”

“What did you find, baby?”

The sloshing sound gave it away, before he ever pulled it out from behind his back, and he waved it at you a little. “A super nice bottle of wine that was a wedding present. Wanna’ get us some glasses?”

“Not right now, I don’t want to drink when we’re on video chat with our friends.” His face fell a little, brows raising, before he was fixing you with a quizzical glance, and you laughed, shaking your head at his speculation. “Maybe later, okay? I’m having a great time with you right as we are. Besides, don’t you think wine that special is more of a late-night drink, when we’re watching a movie, all alone? Don’t you want to save it for some fun later?”

You dragged a nail along his chest, catching lightly on the fabric on his shirt, and he followed it with his gaze, licking at his lips and nodding his head. “Shit, you’re totally right.”

“Mhm, always am.” You grinned, and he scoffed, but pecked your lips, offering his agreement to you, and placing the bottle down on the counter.

The clock ticked over, half an hour until four o’clock, and you started off the mashed potatoes on reheating, and the rest of the food on cooking, and you had everything that you needed to have a meal. You worked together to clean up the living room, scooping up all the leftover scraps, and you vacuumed all the sparkles that were going to get stuck in the carpet. Once you were finished, you settled down together on the couch, laptop set up before you, and waiting for the group to become active, and to click through onto the camera.

Thomas was pressed up to your side, arm stretched out along the back of the couch behind you, fingers brushing against your shoulder, waiting as everybody joined, until noise was filling your living room, seeing everybody else light up.

As the evening went on, you listened to each of them talk about what they’d done with their day, and show off their presents, and the men had been overly excited to see how their scrapbooking efforts had gone down, Minho complaining about the paper-cuts he’d gotten at every possible chance there was.

You were drunk on the feeling of pure joy, hearing your friends laugh and share stories, the sadness that you’d held about not being able to see your friends ebbing away to be replaced with simple happiness, at getting to hear what their days had entailed despite it. Brenda had dropped an entire tray of roast potatoes, and they had to start again, Minho had fed his dog turkey and vegetables, and the sweet little puppy had thrown it up on his foot after getting over-excited about playing fetch ten minutes later, and Newt had accidentally spilt the water at the bottom of his tree and almost lost an eye on the lower branches while mopping it up. There was a graze just below his left eye.

They shared their gifts, and got progressively more drunk, and some of the other families even stopped by at some points to give a wave, and well-wishes, and talk with you for a quick moment. It was lovely, and perfect in its own way, and when it had been over, you’d been hesitant to end the call at all and let them go. As the screen of the computer had gone black, you’d turned to your lover, legs swung across his lap and cuddling in a little closer as the temperatures began to drop down once again, awe evident on your features as snow was beginning to flutter down once again.

The look on his face was soft as you brushed the strands of hair back and out of his eyes, before they were fluttering shut upon feeling your thumb brushing over his cheek. Your dinner was only minutes away from being ready, and you were content in one another’s company, simply letting the day drain away as you soaked up how it felt just to be the two of you, spending your first Christmas in a home you owned, as a married couple, with everything in the world to look forwards to. Resting your cheek on his shoulder, his arms tightened around you leaning back and into the cushions comfortably, as the two of you sat in loving silence.

The oven-timer dinged, and you were hesitant to move, a groan on your lips, lingering a few minutes longer, before you shifted, his grip on your loosening as you got up. The smell of freshly cooked food filled the air, steam pouring out of the oven from the second that it was opened, and it drifted around you as you began to pull out the trays, hearing your husband clattering around behind you as he gathered plates and cutlery.

Bumping his hip against yours as he came to stand behind you, he had a spoon in his hands, laying the plates out and beginning to dish up the vegetable as you stood beside one another, serving up food in comfortable silence. Warmth was pouring off of the man, he’d always felt like a human space heater, always making it extra comfortable to be wrapped up in his arms, and you were tempted to just fall into his grip right now, but resisted, your stomach rumbling happily as your meal came together.

Leaving all of the equipment stacked up in the sink, that was definitely something you could deal with later, Thomas taking his seat first, leg reached out under the table as he pushed your chair out for you, fingers twitching atop the table cloth as he tries to resist the urge to start eating until you were ready. Placing a glass down for him, you were drinking water yourself, and Thomas raised his brows, accepting the drink you were holding out for him, eyes flicking to the counter.

“No wine?”

“I have plans for the wine later.” You teased, one eye dropping in a wink, and pink spread over his cheeks in an adorable blush, despite him being a cocky as he always was, and his lips twisted up in a slight smirk.

“Oh, yes, I almost forgot that you’d promised me one more gift.” His eyes dropped down for a second, scanning along what he could see of your body above the table, before stabbing at some of the vegetables on his plate and chewing on them happily. It was an odd mix of foods, making the best of your Christmas dinner that you could, and yet, it was one that you’d always remember and be able to tell as a story at parties and to friends in the future, a Christmas that you’d never forget.

This year was undoubtedly the biggest one to ever change your life, a turning point, not just the start of a new chapter, but the ending of one book and the beginning of a whole new one. “We got married this year.”

Thomas glanced up, pausing with his fork halfway to his mouth, and you saw the look of mischief flash through his eyes before his lips had even quirked up into a smirk around the words he was forming; “I know. I was there, or do you not remember?”

“Oh, hush.” You frowned, rolling your eyes at him, and he stretched out under the table, toes poking against your foot, before you stretched back, locking your ankle with his own, and he continued to eat as he waited for you to expand on your point. “I just mean, well, look at us. We have a house, and we’re married, and it’s all just ours. We made it all ourselves. Five years ago, I would’ve been at my parents’ house eating turkey and listening to my cousins bitch about how I shouldn’t still be single.”

“Five years ago, I would’ve been drunk by now, listening to Minho flirt with his holi-date and listening to Newt pine after hot magazine models, while I pictured you and how much I loved you, and I didn’t even know your name yet.” Your breathing got stuck a little in your throat, your brows raising at the soft tone in his voice as he placed down his knife and fork across the centre of his plate, shrugging as he leaned back in his seat. “I just knew that one day I’d find the perfect woman; then, a few months later, I met you.”

“I still get butterflies when you tell me you love me.”

“I love you.” He beamed, watching as you squirmed a little in your seat, watching your reaction and knowing the effect he had on you, snickering to himself a little, before sobering up once again. “I still get that tingly feeling when you kiss me sometimes, all the way down to my toes. At the most random of times, like in the milk aisle at the supermarket, or in the bathroom when I'm brushing my teeth.”

“Glad to know I still have that effect on you.” You took a sip of your water, smirking over the rim of your glass at him, and he just continued to stare, a lazy and distant kind of look on his face, and you could tell that his mind had slipped far away, lost in his thoughts, but it was nothing that you weren’t used to. You finished up your own food, and sat with him for a while in silence, fading in and out of your thoughts, slipping to and from for a while, until the chair grew uncomfortable, and you stood up, stretching your limbs out and shaking yourself down.

He watched you go, sighing a little as he did, and taking your outstretched hands when you offered them to him. As he stood, you went from looking down at him to looking up, and he leaned down, just enough to bump his nose against your own.

“Wanna’ go cuddle on the couch with a blanket?”

“Don’t have to ask me twice.” He teased, pushing you a little toward the doorway. “Go find a blanket and pick out a movie, I’ll put everything in the dishwasher and set it off, I’ll be there in two minutes, okay?”

“M’kay.” You whispered, pushing up onto the tips of your toes long enough to steal a kiss from his lips, and he pressed back eagerly upon feeling your mouth against his own. Hands on your waist pushed you back, his lips still puckered as he pulled away, urging you to go and get comfortable. The kitchen tiles were chilled underfoot as you walked away, and the floorboards were still cold to the touch too, but the carpets of the living room were a little warmer, and as you picked up the knitted blanket that was rolled up on the back of the couch.

Wrapping it over your shoulders, you grabbed the remotes, turning on the TV and waiting for the channels to adjust, before you were loading up Netflix to scroll through the Christmas movies. Thomas was clattering about in the kitchen, the sounds of cutlery scraping on plates and of them being loaded into the racks, set up to be washed. As you settled on one, you heard him toying with the controls, beeping signalling that the machine had started up on cleaning the dishes used, and the flooring creaked under every step he took, before the cushions were dipping and caving beside you as he settled down at your side.

Wrapping an arm over your shoulders, he pulled you back into his chest, letting you get comfortable as he did, spreading one leg out along the couch, and one remaining where it was, planted on the floor for support as you settled back into his chest, lips brushing across your head. “I chose us a movie to watch.”

“Whatever you want is fine with me, baby.”

“Such a sap.” You mumbled, receiving a teasing squeeze around you in retaliation for your words as you pressed play, and feeling him tugging at the blanket a little until you shed it, spreading it out over your lap and his legs, until both of you were tucked snugly underneath it, the beginning credits beginning to play.

Yo almost dozed off only a few minutes in, a combination of feeling so full and content, loved and safe in the arms of the man you loved. One hand was sitting in your lap, fingers waived with your own loosely above the covers, while the other was sitting underneath the edge of your shirt, sitting over your stomach, holding you anchored to him.

You barely registered the movie playing, more caught up in your mind over everything you found yourself with, every situation and scenario, every night being able to go to bed alongside the man you loved, and waking up to him in the morning.

Only a few years ago, you were alone, with no idea you were about to meet the love of your life. Then, you’d started a new job, and met a sweet security guard with a cocky attitude and a heart of gold, and he’d stolen your heart right out from under you while sweeping you off of your feet, even when you hadn't planned for it to happen. You had thought you were happy, that you were content with being single and focusing on yourself, and yet, just by being himself, he had somehow become everything you wanted and needed.

You wouldn’t change it for the world.

Halfway through, Thomas had grown bored of sitting quietly, as he usually did, his fingers stroking a little over your skin as he tried to grab your attention, and his lips moving along your shoulder, the ti of his nose stroking stray strands of hair out of his way, until he could get to the column of your throat.

His teeth nipped a little at your flesh, just enough to tease, a light laugh falling from you as you trembled in his arms a little bit, and you twisted around to face him, straddling his lap as you did, and he smiled up, hands coming to sit on your hips as yours sat on his shoulders, thumbs smoothing over the base of his neck. “Bored, Tommy?”

“Little bit. This film kinda’ sucks.”

You tried to suppress the snort of a laugh that you wanted to release, nodding your head as you knew it to be true. It wasn’t the greatest, but it was new and trending on Netflix, and so had given it a go. Shifting out of his hold, he whined a little as you went, but watched you walk away, scooping up one of the boxes you’d given him, and bringing it back over, shaking it excitedly. “Why don’t you try your new gift out, huh? I’ll help you pick something to print!”

He stood up to meet you, nodding his head and taking it from your hands, before trying to undo the tape sealing the box shut, and tipping the components out onto the couch.

“I’ll take everything else to the bedroom, you get it set up, ‘kay?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He teased, offering you a little wink, before he was padding across to one of the only remaining empty sockets now they were filled with Christmas lights and decorations, and sitting down on the carpet, legs crossed as he plugged it in and reached back for the instruction booklet.

Grabbing the remaining boxes and bags, you made your way through the house, backing through the door and pushing it open with your butt, before using your elbow to flick on the bedroom light. The boxes were stacked in the corner, everything else sitting on top, a job to be dealt with in the morning. The beautiful leather-bound album that was sitting on top of them all had the embossed lettering glittering under the light, and you picked it up, taking a seat on the bed and placing it down in your lap.

It was physical proof of the love between you both, a record of every moment that you’d been able to map throughout your wedding, your relationship coming to an ultimate peak, and blossoming into something even more incredible. Every page brought you a little closer to tears, as you realised just how much you loved him, and how you wouldn’t be who you were anymore without him. Placing the beautiful album back down, you grabbed the final bag, discarding the tissue paper and pushing the bedroom door closed a little more, a smirk on your lips.

You could hear whispered curses and mumbles coming from your husband as he tried to work out how to operate the machine you’d bought him, and you slipped your clothes from your body, dropping them into the laundry hamper. It only took you a moment to rub a freshly scented moisturiser over your body, skin still smooth and clean from the last shower you’d had, and a few spritzes of the perfume you knew drove your lover mad.

Taking off the pretty tags form the new lacy set laid out on the covers, you slipped the garments onto your body, suspenders clipping once you’d pulled the stockings up your legs, and your breasts were swollen in the bra, and you couldn't deny how good you looked, and felt. Once you were dressed, feet moving softly on the floorboards as you returned to the living room, you ran a hand through your hair, messing it up just enough to be sexy, and leaning on the doorframe.

“You figure it out yet, baby?”

“Almost.” He mumbled, never looking up, and you waited, brows raising a little when he continued to be completely preoccupied with the task at hand. He placed the booklet between his teeth, a huff on his lips as he tried to press a series of buttons again, only for it to beep and flash red at him, and he huffed, not noticing you making your way towards him.

“Little cold in here, don’t you want to warm up?”

“Blanket is still on the couch.”

You grinned, thrilled to know he was enjoying your gift so much, but ready for him to be busy with something else for a little while. Placing a finger under his chin, you twisted his head toward you, his eyes finally leaving the device he’d been tinkering with, and his jaw dropped. The paper fell from his mouth and fluttered away, his eyes dragging along you slowly, down to your feet before moving back up to your face, and then it was all the way down once again. He took in every feature, eyes lingering on the pace where your stockings were held up, the soft flesh there, his fingers twitched a little before he was taking in the intricate lace detailing covering you.

“Holy fuck, baby.” He put the device down, twisting to face you, moving to kneel instead of sitting, and his hands hooked onto the back of your legs, fingers flexing against your calves. You’re so fuckin’ beautiful.”

He leaned in to press a kiss to the exposed skin of your upper thigh, an equally wet one to match on the other side, kneeling before you as he kissed at your flesh slowly, dragging the tip of his nose over the front of your covered core, just above where your would’ve really wanted him, and your hand slipped into his hair. His fingers were kneading at your muscle as he worked his way up, until he was taking handfuls of your barely covered ass in his hold, beginning to stand slowly, kissing his way up your body with every inch that he rose upwards, until he was standing fully before you.

Your head tipped back as he sucked on your neck, working to leave a pretty mark on the junction between your throat and shoulder, his hands smoothing over your sides, until he could squeeze at your breasts, making you arch up into his body, a chuckle washing over your skin.

“Jump for me, angel.”

He caught you as you did, more than experienced in the act, lifting you up into his arms as your legs wrapped around his waist, never once stumbling or tripping as he guided you to the bedroom, never letting up on his assault along your neck. Your back met the covers, pressing you down into the soft material carefully, letting you inch your way up until your head was in the pillows as he crawled after you, body covering your own.

Finally, you pulled his mouth to meet yours, a hot and wet kiss, long overdue and sorely needed, his teeth all but clashing with your own from the intensity of it.

He held himself up above you with both hands, his body pressing to your own as one thigh came up to settle between your legs, a whimper leaving you, swallowed by him as the muscle pressed against your already wettening core. When you finally ran out of breath, he shifted his kisses along your jaw, nipping as he went, and you knew that there would be red patches and dark bruises to follow, the slight scrape of his stubble along your skin making you tremble a little underneath him, and your hips bucked up against him.

“S’okay, sweetheart. Go ahead, rub up on my thigh, I know you want to.” His words washed over your jaw in hot breaths, a whine leaving you, before you were doing exactly as he’d offered, hips beginning to roll up against him. The friction sparked something in your gut, a soft sigh leaving you, pressing down harder with each movement you made, seeking out the climax that was slowly beginning to build. As you did, Thomas was shifting further and further down your body, pulling out the ribbons and strings that were holding the lace closed around your body, each bow delicately undone revealing a little more of your body to him. “You look so hot in this. I have good taste.”

He caught your eyes, just for a second, but long enough to wink at you to follow his comment, before he was kneeling back, sitting on his heels and pulling you up alongside him. Settling you in his lap, your arms looped around his neck, legs kneeling on either side of his waist, sitting atop his thighs, a whine leaving you as you could no longer grind against his thigh.

Rough hands on your hips centred you across him, licking over his lips to bite down on his lower lip as he pushed you down against the bulge in his sweats, a quick breath expelled as you did, and his eyes seemed to darken even further, twinkling in the low light pouring in from the corridor.

One arm wrapped around your waist to support you as you leaned back from him, a grunt spilling out as you pressed down harder into him, his cock throbbing through the material against your centre. As you flicked on the lamp, warm light flooded over the room, lighting it up enough for you to see one another, casting shadows over you both that sharpened his features, catching the golden flecks within his eyes as he looked at you.

“Do you feel what you do to me, angel? Pretty lady in my lap, all dolled up in lace. You’re incredible.”

“You have the same effect on me, don’t you worry.” You whispered, leaning in to catch his lips with your own again in a slower kiss. He was holding you to him tightly, mouth working with yours in the slow rhythms that you set, perfectly willing to take all the time in the world, because you had nowhere else to be except right here, with one another. Tracing your tongue song his lip, he let out a soft sound as he parted his lips for you, head twisting to the side so that he could dip into you a little further, tongue exploring your mouth as though he’d never kissed you in such a way before, butterflies rising in your stomach at the delicate way in which he held you.

Tugging at the hem of his shirt, you inched it up along his body, legs tightening around him to hold yourself steady as his arms raised over his head to let you strip it away, before he was peeling the lingerie from your body down, letting it pool around your waist as his shirt fell away from your hands to the floor, discarded for the time being. The second your upper body was able to him, you were being laid back into the bedding, letting him follow after, your head resting a month the pillows, hands on his cheeks to hold his kiss to you, legs wrapping around him as you did.

Fingers inched along your body, the muscles in your stomach fluttering as he did, until they were slipping under the fabric, pushing the crotch of your panties aside to tease a finger through your slick folds. His lips twisted up against your own, a smile that was borderline a smirk against your lips, and his forehead met your own as he pulled back.

“I love knowing I can get you like this.” His lips still brushed against yours as he spoke, a single digit slipping into your entrance, and you arched up into him as the pad brushed along your walls slowly. He set a steady pace, picking up speed as he went, your jaw dropping a little, breath shared between you both as he moved.

He was taking his time, what you had expected would be fast and rough was turning out to be slow and passionate. You’d expected him to take one look at you in the pretty little number he’d bought you and almost tear it right off of you, to fuck you senseless until you were tearing up his back and screaming out loud enough that you’d bother the neighbours if the houses were connected, but instead, you were getting a night of lovemaking and torturous teasing.

A second finger prodded at your entrance, slipping into you with ease as your slick coated his fingers, arousal flowing from you without difficulty, and a cry of his name was dragged for your lips the second he crooked them while buried deep within you. “That’s right, baby. Call my name.”

“Tommy, please, stop teasing me!”

“Tell me what you want, baby love.” He pecked your lips sweetly as you whimpered, fingers slowing even more within you, deep and penetrating movements each time, though, your breath shallow in your lungs as your head began to spin and stomach began to tighten. “Use your words, pretty girl.”

The way his voice had twisted into something a little darker, something condescending that made you cry out, because it was just enough to leave you desperate and gasping as he dominated over you. “More. Faster, harder, anything, I just need more.”

“Yeah? I can do that for you.” He scissored his fingers as he pulled out, stretching your entrance to warm you up, that delicious burn creating a dull ache that was chased away by pure lust, your body shaking as he plunged his fingers back into you. He took it up, doing just as you’d asked, your eyes rolling back into your head with every subtle scrape of his blunt nails against your wall as he fucked your roughly onto his fingers, a filthy sound filling the room as he worked, your hips rocking up into his palm as you tried to meet his motions, clit rubbing against his palm through the layers of bunched up and pushed aside materials that blocked your entrance form him. “Feel you squeezin’ my fingers, angel, so tight. Just like you do when you’re wrapped around my cock. You want that?”

“Yes, yes, I do! Please!”

You could barely form words, the looming climax that was hanging over your head was making you dizzy, and he chuckled, kissing at your jaw, sucking what would become a dark bruise onto the hinge of your jaw, licking wetly over it once he was finished, and blowing cool breath over the wet patch, watching you tremble underneath him. “Tell me what you want, pretty baby. Use your words, or have I fucked you stupid, already?”

A growl on your lips, despite the fact that you’d never speak up, because every time he took on this kind of personality with you it drove you insane, and so you leaned dup inside, catching his lower lip in your teeth and tugging a little, a much louder and more threatening growl in return. His motions stilled, fingers buried deep inside of you, pads pushed up against your g-spot, the pressure making your entire body twitch and tremble at the stimulation, gasping out in need as you groaned.

“I said, use your words, not get sassy with me.”

“You stopped, don’t stop. I’m close, Tommy.” Your fingers brushed over his wrist, trying to get him to move, but he tutted, shaking his head, the tip of his nose brushing over yours.

“Use your words, honey, and you can have whatever you want.” He pulled his fingers out of you, a dirty sound following, and you cried out in distaste, before he was sucking on his fingers, and watching you carefully.

Heat flushed over your face as you watched him, tongue lapping at his fingers noisily as he cleaned them of your arousal, waiting for you to speak up with what you wanted, and you had to force yourself past your shyness, watching his eager enthusiasm as he stared you down, brows raised and waiting with a sultry look on his face. Kneeling back, he settled between your parted thighs, one finger snapping the soaked lace back into place over your folds, and your body jerked at the sting, legs snapping shut as a short but loud moan sounded from you as he did.

He grinned as he felt your thighs clamp around him a little, large hands smoothing up over your legs, undoing the clips that were holding up your stockings, eyes fixed on yours as he moved, in no hurry.

“Tommy..”

“Yes, my love? You got something to say to me?”

You pushed up on your hands, propping yourself up before him, and his eyes dropped down to the swell of your tits momentarily, caught in awe momentarily, and the confidence it gave you rushed through your body. “I want you to fuck me, Tommy. Fast and rough, real good, like I know you can. Make me scream, Thomas.”

“See? Now that wasn’t that hard, was it?” His hands hooked into the rest of the fabric, yanking it down your hips and off of your body, throwing it away to the floor. Calloused palms landed on your knees, pushing your thighs apart, and your body collapsed back into the bedding. “That’s all you had to say.”

You sneered a little, jumping as he pinched at the sensitive skin on the inside of your thigh, before he was standing from the bed, palming at his evident erection through the worn thin cotton of his sweats, a slight wet mark forming on the front of his pants from the precum dribbling from his cock, before he was pushing them away down his legs. They pooled at his ankles, kicked away, and you reached out to him, curling a finger as you beckoned him closer to you.

Instead, he caught your hand, pulling your hand in towards him a little and curling your fingers around his length, a breathy sigh leaving him as you took the hint and pumped him slowly. Swiping the pad of your thumb over his head, he hissed a little as you brushed across the slit on his cock, collecting up the wetness that was beading there, and pulling your hand away, sucking the digit between your lips as he watched through half-lidded eyes.

Rolling down onto the bed beside you, the mattress dipped under his weight, bounding you up into his body, and he took your momentarily elevated height as an opportunity to press a rough kiss to your lips, one hand tangling in your hair. The taste of your own essence was spread to your lips, matching the salty taste of his arousal still lingering along your lips, making everything seem even more erotic.

Lining himself up, you felt him gasp into your mouth as he sank into your awaiting heat, your breath forced from your lungs as you felt him stretch you out in a way that had always worked so perfectly, the two of you syncing up in perfect harmony just the way you always did, his cock sitting snugly between your walls. He filled you up, a delicious friction with every ridge within you that dragged against him, every pulse he made making you pulse around him, a connection so deep and intimate that it made you flush every single time it happened.

One of your hands sat on his shoulders, the other weaving into his hair to scratch at his scalp lightly. “Kiss me, Thomas.”

“Thought you wanted me to make you scream?” He whispered, leaning down enough to catch your lips with his, not waiting for your response, soft kisses that seemed completely fractured from the moment, out of place or wrong, and yet completely and utterly right. Drags of lips over your own, making your racing heart skip a beat on your chest at the tenderness of the way he held you, your hand tightening in his hair until he groaned a little as you tugged on the strands, and your lips were stinging a little when he pulled back, his own red and swollen to match.

“I do want that, I just wanted some lovin’ first.”

“I'm always lovin’ on you, baby.” He smiled, stealing a final kiss from your lips, before he was pulling out, every inch of him dragging over your inner walls, pausing for only a second to prolong your sensual suffering, before he was slamming into you. A rough thrust that made every nerve within you light up, and you barely had time to process your own thoughts, to take a breath or cry out his name, before he was repeating the action.

The hand in his hair twisted even tighter, pulling on the soft strands as you held onto him, trying to ground yourself down to the earth. Every time together and you feel like you were floating in the clouds, reaching heaven with every thrust he delivered. The telltale signs of another climax were beginning to show, the coil in your stomach tightening and your body was lighting up with fire.

Cupping his face, your thumb smoothed over his cheek, feeling him lean into you, before he was slowing down for only a second in order to pull your hand down pinning it to the bed and lacing his fingers with your own. The tip of his cock was pressing up to the sweet spot inside of you, your back arching up, sweat beading along his skin with the speed of which he was filling you up, the sound of skin on skin filling the room. “You’re always so damn tight, honey. Love the way you feel.”

You could only nod, the stretch of him tucked within you making every thought in your head seem to evaporate, and your hand slipped along his shoulder to his back. Nails digging into pale flesh, tearing tracks in mole-speckles skin that would show up red and raw, and he pressed up into your touch, the slightly biting pain being something that you knew he loved, especially when he really wanted to go wild. A deep noise in his throat, something between a groan and a growl, before he was pulling back, both hands slipping down your body.

He started at your chest, large hands cupping around and plump tits in his hands, groping tightly until you keened up into him with a whine, your hips rolling to meet his movements as he kept them going. You could barely breathe, the weight of your oncoming peak was crushing you, while burning you from the inside out and as though he had sensed it, he slowed down, barely moving now, letting you fuck yourself against him as you tried to coax him into action, but it was of no use.

Dipping down, he caught one stuff nipple between his teeth, a light nip that made you cry out, a sound that was high-pitched and sharp as your head spun, sense and focus fading away as your vision grew fuzzy, walls clamping around him. His mouth closed further over your breast, sucking the supple flesh into his mouth, teeth grazing soft skin as his tongue lapped leisurely at the buds that were standing taut for him, and he knew exactly how to press all of your buttons, years of experience working well for him. The other hand furthered your pleasure by toying with the mound on the other side of your chest, skilled fingers tugging and taunting until you couldn't take it anymore.

Your second orgasm of the night, spurred on simply by his obsession with your breasts, and yet it hadn't been the first time he would make you come simply by playing with them, and it wouldn't be the last.

“So reactive for me, sweetheart. How do you feel, hm?”

He pulled away, chin and cheeks a little shin from his own spit, a cold breeze sweeping over your chest, and he dipped down, giving the other the same treatment, without quite as much ferocity, and you could barely form words as you tried to reply, to tell him how good he always made you feel, but there wasn’t any competent ability left within you.

“Oh, have I fucked all the sense out of your pretty little head, huh?” You could only nod, watching as his ego inflated a little more before your very sights, his eyes sparkling with mischief and chest puffing out. One hand dragged along your stomach as he sat back fully, fingers spreading out across your stomach, his gaze following, and you grinned, watching as he did so. “How about I fuck something into you, huh?”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.” He bit down on his lip, his cock pulsing within you, and you longed to know just what kind of images were going through his head that had garnered a reaction like that, and soon, his mouth was opening to spill it all to you, without you even needing to ask; “Thinkin’ ‘bout how pretty you’d look all swelled up with my baby in you, tits getting bigger, ready to feed our kid. Prettiest mom on the whole damn block, you’d be. All mine, making our family, one of these next Christmases, maybe they’ll be little feet wandering around, or you’ll be all around, ready to pop, give me a son or daughter, huh?”

“That what you want? You wanna’ put a baby in here, huh?” For emphasis, you squeezed around him, a threatening sound making itself known as a warning glare was mixed upon you, one that only fueled the inferno raging within you as you teetered on the building of your next peak. “Big talk, think you can live up to the hype? Been months now, you still haven’t knocked me up, Tommy. Better get to it.”

“You’re circling dangerous ground, baby. Better watch your fuckin’ mouth.” He hissed, leaning back over you, a dark look stitching into his features and you shrugged, trying to calm your heart as it threatened to break your ribs and burst right out of your chest.

“I don’t know, I’m just saying. Maybe, you’re not fucking me good enough.”

“Oh, I’m gonna’ show you who fucks good enough. I don’t want you to be able to walk or talk after this, I want your throat so torn up your attitude is kept inside.” Red flushed along his face, right down to his neck, and excitement was bursting through your body. With rough hands on your hips that would leave dotted bruises on your flesh come morning, you were flipped over, your stomach pressing into the bedding.

You gasped, his hands smoothing up along your back, before he was leaning over you, dripping and wet cock pressed to your thigh as he pinned you down to the bed. Hot breath washed over your cheek, before he was biting lightly on your earlobe, the bed dipping on either side of you as he knelt over you, and you pushed back into him. Rolling your hips up, he growled a little, pressing you back down into the bed even more.

“Behave, sweetheart, or I’m not letting you come until you’re crying for it.”

You stilled, going stiff at the simple threat, and he chuckled, pressing a wet kiss to the back of your shoulder, hands tracing up along your arms as he trusted you to keep them in place. Settling behind you, a loud smack was placed to your ass, the skin stinging deliciously as the patch flared up with heat, feeling him palm at the patch as he soothed it over a little, a yelp tearing from you when he repeated the action on the opposite side without warning, and you bit down on your lip just to muffle the sounds.

Your hips were pulled up, before hands on your shoulders were following, pulling you up until you were kneeling before him, a hand smoothing around your waist. He patted lightly at your stomach, rubbing over it carefully. His hands then dipped further down, two fingers parting your folds, rubbing lightly at the button nestled between your thighs, and your hips jumped up into his hand, a shaky sound emitted from you.

“C’mon, Tommy, it’s Christmas. Stop teasing me.”

“Okay, sweetheart, since you asked so nicely.” He mumbled, fingers dragging up your body, wet trails of your own arousal left on your skin, before he was slipping them between your lips. You sucked tightly, the taste of your own slick covering your tongue as you lapped at the digits, cleaning them off as he hummed happily into your ear, chin hooked over your shoulder. Your hand slipped down between your bodies, lining him up behind you, before he was easing into you.

His groan in your ear was drowned out by the loud mewls that you let out, fluttering and overly sensitive walls welcoming him back, gripping onto him tightly as he sank his full length within you. The second he was within you, his fingers were leaving your mouth, pushing you back down until your cheek was flush to the bedding, fingers digging into the blanket and nails threatening to tear at it as he wasted no time.

Hips snapping into your own, a bruising pace that would leave you with that ache between your thighs that always made you shake in the morning to follow as you remembered the way that he’d fucked you into oblivion. The sounds you were making were sure to be echoing off of every wall in the house, your throat raw, and you pushed back into him each time, trying to meet his motions, but the pace he was setting was far too fast, and your movements were sloppy in comparison. Your chest was tightening, every muscle in your body going stiff, and your fingers became fists as you tried to hold out a little longer, to not give in as quickly as you thought you might.

You could feel him nearing his edge, the husk of his voice getting a little deeper, cracking each time he edged closer to his own orgasm, his cock throbbing within your walls as he fucked you into the bed. One hand tangled in your hair, tugging at the roots as he pulled back your head, screams loud and uninterrupted for him to hear.

“That’s right, baby, nice and loud.” He tugged you back even further, a sharp cry in pain that made everything go into overdrive, before your back was pressing to his chest. One hand came to seal around your throat. Squeezing lightly, your noises cut off, going silent in your throat as your vision spotted. “Tell me again, baby, who doesn’t fuck you good enough?”

Your mouth opened again, no sounds coming out, simple squeals as he loosened his grip a little. The other hand was on your waist, gripping so hard that the area was beginning to tingle, blunt nails pressing into your skin, and your climax began washing over you. Your jaw going slack, your eyes rolled back as your head sat on his shoulder, and your screams had gone completely silent as white heat shot through your body. Every nerve lit up in your body, like fireworks going off in your core. He didn’t stop there, fingers slipping down to rub at your clit, your body jerking in his grip as broken gasps spilt out.

Sparks ran all along your body, tears lining your eyes as he abused the bud with his rapid-paced motions, and a scream tore from you as that same climax became doubly as strong, bliss taking you over as you felt boneless. He didn’t let up, not until your cheeks were wet and you were going limp in his arms, legs slick from your gushing arousal. When you couldn't take it anymore, crying in his grasp, he let you go, your entire body quivering while you settled on the mattress. His cock slipped from you for only a second as you were turned over in his arms.

He all but collapsed down on top of you, face pressed into your neck, chest pressed up to yours and you could feel his heart thudding against his chest and straight through to your own. With a few final thrusts, weak and desperate, he stiffened, ribbons of hot cum pumping out with your walls, making you whimper just at the feeling that would never be anything other than otherworldly bliss as he filled you to the brim.

“Fucking hell, I’ll never get used to that.” He mumbled, words muffled by where he was still pressed up against you, nose nuzzling into your hair, and your arms wrapped around him. He hissed a little, feeling your fingers smoothing along his body and brushing over the raw rips along his flesh, made by your nails in the heat of pleasure.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s hot as hell.” He teased, making to roll over when he felt you trying to laugh underneath him, and you squeaked as he took you with him, rolling your exhausted body up and on top of him. His hands found your hips, holding you down firmly onto him when you wiggled back towards the bedding. “Where do you think you’re going, huh?”

“Preferably onto the cool blankets. I love you, but you’re hot and sweaty, and so am I.” You mumbled, pressing yourself up over him, and his hands ran up and down your sides lightly, shrugging as he did. His hair was messy, skin flushed and shining with sweat, accompanied by swollen lips, looking like pure sin as he lounged beneath you.

“Nuh-uh, angel. I told you I was going to fuck a baby into you, and we’re not letting a drop go. Stay right where you are, keepin’ my cock nice and warm, and keeping you full of cum.” As if to emphasise his point, he tugged you down into him, and you chuckled as you found yourself leaning against a slightly sticky shoulder, nails scratching at the hairs on his chest as you tried to catch your breath properly. “Guess I gave you another kind of white Christmas, huh?”

You couldn’t contain your laughs, your body shaking a little above him as the pair of you snickered at his joke, yours out of exhausted embarrassment and his out of genuine humour and pride. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You love it.”

“Hm, I didn’t marry you for your bad jokes, they were just an addition that I got burdened with.” You teased, a light spank landing on your ass, before both hands were settling on your cheeks, squeezing lightly, before he was jiggling gently, entertaining himself with those basic actions, your cheeks heating up and eyes rolling a little. “Having fun there?”

“A lot, actually. I love your ass.”

“Yes, well, not that I’m not used to it, but how long do you want me to lay here?” You mumbled, hand smoothing out over his chest, slipping around to sit on his side over his ribs instead, and snuggling down a little more to get comfortable.

“Just ‘til you’re pregnant.”

“Oh, great.” You teased, finding him puffing his chest up underneath of you, one of your fingers ping at his chest. “Excited to be a daddy?”

His half-hard cock twitched within you interestedly, and he groaned. “Don’t you dare ruin that word for me.”

“Which word?” You mused, one hand on his cheek, kissing along his stubbled jaw, up to his ear, licking lightly at the shell as he trembled under your touch. “Do you mean ‘daddy’?”

“Baby, please, stop it!” He whined a little, and you hummed, before pressing back a little along him, his length hardening with you as your hips rocked back into his own. He grunted, hold tightening on your body, but never stopping you, letting you rock back into him. Your clit was pressed up to his pelvis from this angle, a perfect friction for every grind, and he whined a little when you propped yourself up even more.

Nails digging into his chest, he stared up at you, tits bouncing and skin glowing in the dull light of the room, hair messy to match his, and you felt beautiful under his stare, watching as he licked at his lips, jaw gaping and eyes scanning along your body.

He eventually settled on the place where the two of you were connected, the simple rolls of your hips becoming more, as you settled into your position of riding his cock, bouncing up and down along his length, and beads of creamy cum leaked from you as you did. You could feel it, the mixtures of both of your arousals leaking from your body, a stick messy dotting the dark hairs curled at his base, before he was reaching a hand down, thumb pressing loosely to your clit, making bored motions as his other hand reached out.

You knew exactly what he wanted, the way his lips puckered, hips thrusting up to meet yours as he grew lazy underneath you, his eyes hooded and dark, a smirk on his lips, before he was bringing your mouth down to his.

Sloppy kisses that barely met the mark as such, his teeth dragging over your lips, tongues clashing and tangling together in wet knots as you moaned into his mouth, sounds quietened by one another as the sounds of teenage-style making out filled the room instead.

It was messy, and filthy, and completely effortless, but as you shook above him, a much lighter climax washing through your body, the final bit of energy that you had being spent, he chased after you, giving you what last he had, until it was dribbling out of you.

“Fuck, you’re going to be the death of me.” He whispered, never letting up on his kisses, rolling you over a little as you tried to pull away to catch your breath, his mouth following in an unceasing assault against your own, giggles filling the air as he did. One leg hooked over his hip, the other flattening out, and he let you lay down at last. Pushing him away with one hand, he finally did as told, cock slipping from you, making out whimper a little at the soreness you craved finally being present, and you tried to roll away from the bed.

He reached out, with no energy left, his hand coming into contact with the bedding instead as you stood up. His eyes follow you though, a ridiculous boasting look glimmering in them as he watched his cum drip down your skin, barely being properly cleaned up by the handfuls of tissues you used.

You hadn't even made it two steps away from the bed, before he was reaching out, yanking you back down into the bed beside him, so that he could lay his head across your chest and wrap you up in his arms.

“Tommy, let me up.” You giggled, poking at the man who was half splayed out across you, the covers pulled up loosely over your bodies, pooled around his waist, and he grunted with discontent when your fingers stopped running along his back, nails dragging at his skin soothingly, to instead push at his shoulders. “Thomas!”

“Mh, no. I’m comfy, you’re warm.” His words were whispered, eyes fluttering a little, and you groaned, using all the strength you had to push him off of you and roll him over, placing a pillow to his chest as he reached out to latch onto you. He cracked an eye open when he felt the bed dip, watching as you edged toward the door, feet hitting the ground. “Where’re y’ goin’?”

“I love it when you get clingy and sleepy.” You teased, leaning back down to peck his lips, before making your way to the drawers, grabbing some fresh clothes for yourself, he made a grabbing motion at you, snatching loosely at the clothes you threw to him, catching none of them as they scattered around the messed up bedding around him, and his hand fell back down to the covers. “I have one more present for you.”

“I thought we did all the presents.” He sounded strained, sitting up as you pulled on a robe, tying it at the waist to keep the chill away, and shrugging a shirt onto his shoulders, a tremble running along him in the chill, before reaching for his boxers, watching you inquisitively.

“Well, I had one more. I wanted to do it with our friends, but we didn’t get to, and this gift just wouldn't be the same over the camera. We can tell them at New Years.”

“What does that mean?” There was a playful curiosity in his voice now, and you winked, backing out of the door, and making your way through to the bathroom, and into the cabinet where you kept all of your feminine products, a place Thomas only ever entered upon your request, to retrieve the secret little bag stuffed with wrapping paper that lay within. “Baby, what does that mean?”

“Have some patience!” You yelled back, wiping up a packet of tissues as you went, before padding back along the cool floorboards to the warmed carpet of the bedroom, jiggling it a little at him. He was sitting up now, rubbing at his eyes as he tried to shake himself awake, and you moved to kneel beside his legs, clutching onto it and placing the tissues down onto the bed beside you.

“Is it messy?”

“What?”

He took the package, ribbon on top sealing it shut, and he nodded his head to the packet you’d put down. “The tissues; is it messy? Oh, is it flavoured condoms?” He smirked, your jaw dropping a little as you laughed.

“Would you want to open a packet of flavoured condoms in front of your friends at Christmas Day dinner?”

He cringed, shaking his head. “Okay, you got me. I’m at a loss. Can I open it?”

You nodded, thumb flicking under the packet of the tissues to open them up, watching as he nimbly undid the ribbons, and you pulled one of the soft, folded papers out. Parting the sides of the bag, he stared inside, a single object sitting within, and he squinted at it for a moment as he tried to decipher what he was holding, and what exactly it was said, before his eyes widened.

He flipped it over in his hands, holding it carefully now within two fingers, dropped jaw and watering eyes, before finally looking up to you. “You win.”

“Told you I would.”

“You win this year, you win next year, you just won every Christmas for the rest of our lives.”

“I know.” You teased, watching as a tear dropped from his eye, wiping it away gently, and he trembled a little, bringing his hand up to your wrist to pull your hand away from his face, tugging you in closer.

“It’s real?”

“You think I’d fake it?” You joked, your own eyes watering, and he let out a breathless and shaky laugh.

“And you’re totally sure?”

“I had an appointment the other week to confirm it, they called a few days ago. One hundred percent positive.” He was crying again, snatching the tissues from your hand to instead pull you closer, a needy kiss pressed to your lips, as he tried to calm himself down, to bring himself to earth, and wet cheeks slid against your own, a smile on his lips despite trying to kiss you.

“I’m going to be a dad?”

“Yeah, baby. This is the start of our family.” He pushed you back, rolling you into the bedding as the packaging and gifts were discarded. He pecked your lips one final time, before he was tugging at the knots on the front of your robe and lifting your shirt, hands pressing over your stomach lightly.

His fingers were smoothing over your skin, featherlight touches, complete awe on his face as he stared down at your torso, and he grinned widely, dipping down to kiss at your navel lightly. “I love you so much, little one. I already know you’ll be amazing.”

“It’s about the size of  a grain of rice right now, Tommy.” You laughed a little as his hands smoothed around to your sides, cheek pressing to your stomach as he laid down, and your fingers wove into his hair lightly.

“I don’t care, I love them. Boy or girl, whoever they become, they’re perfect.”

“Merry Christmas, Thomas.” You whispered, his eyes meeting yours, chin balanced on your flesh, and he smiled, a kind of content softness that only you ever got to see.

“Merry Christmas, my love.” He turned back, nose nuzzling at your stomach. “And, Merry Christmas to you, little one.”

[hockeyboysiguess]

three french horns -> three goal horns | n. mackinnon

a/n: and like clockwork, here is fic number three in my 12 days of christmas series! i wrote this one a while ago and i hurt myself re-reading it to proof it, so i hope you all like it! rest of the christmas series linked here.

word count:  4,037

warnings: alcohol, drinking 

“Hey, Nate?” you called out from the living room when you heard the back door open, signaling his reappearance in the house after letting the dogs outside. 

“Yeah, baby?” he asked as he stomped his boots on the mat, shaking the last bit of the early Denver snow off. 

You asked the question you’d been asking him since two weeks after his birthday, the same question you’d been asking a variation of for the three months before his birthday. “Nate, what do you want for Christmas?” 

The sound that left Nate’s mouth was barely human, a groan coming from deep within, from the place that never knew what he wanted for any major gift giving holiday of any kind. You tried to be original, get sentimental things, but it was hard to buy for someone who could literally buy anything they ever wanted. Nate didn’t have big, expensive wishes, so if he wanted something, he often just bought it on the spot and you were none-the-wiser until it showed up at his house. This penchant, this bad habit, carried throughout the holiday season; it was a perpetual state of being for Nathan MacKinnon. This meant that items Nate ordered for himself were as likely to show up December 24th as any other day of the year, which was eternally infuriating as a person in his life trying to buy him gifts on the semi-regular basis. 

“I don’t know,” he answered you, like he did every other time. “I’ll like it because it’s from you.” 

That response was sweet the first, second, and half-sweet the third time he’d used it on you. Now, that response was worn out like an old pair of jeans, with holes in the thighs and the knees hanging together by a thread, absolutely unusable at this point in time really. Yet Nate continued to say it, like that string of seven words didn’t light a fire in your stomach completely unlike the kind crackling under the stockings on the mantle right now. 

“Nate,” you groaned, all too similarly to how he had when you asked your question. Spend enough time with a person and you pick up their habits. You and Nate were a completely unoriginal example of that. “You know I hate when you say that.” 

Nate rolled his eyes and shrugged, “Well, I don’t really know. A hat trick? But you can’t get me that, I’ve got to get that for me.” 

The infamous illusive hat trick. While it wasn’t those dreaded seven words, you were pretty sure you had heard about this hat trick that was alluding him every other day at this point. In all fairness to Nate, the amount of times he had scored twice in the first two periods of a game this season and been held off the scoreboard in the second was absurd. Commentators were joking about it, his teammates were chirping him over not one, not two, but three missed empty netters that would’ve sealed it, even though Nate liked to say those didn’t really count as hat tricks. Greater than all of that, Nate was starting to incredibly frustrated with himself and his performances. You knew Nate was a competitive guy before you even went on your first date with him, but his competitiveness ran deep and honestly you weren’t sure your relationship would work if you were even an ounce more competitive than you were. Nate had to win, he had to achieve his goals. This goal was quite simply just three goals, but it continued to be just out of reach this season and coming up on the holiday season, pushing the halfway mark, Nate was starting to think it might not happen this year. 

“You’ll get one, Nate,” you sighed. “You’re so close and you’re too good not to get whatever you put your mind to.” 

“I got a good feeling about the game tomorrow,” he replied, sliding up next to you on the couch to throw a Christmas sweater-covered arm around your shoulders. “My good luck charm is going to be there, right?” 

Nate wasn’t superstitious in the slightest, but he said he always scored more whenever you came. Statistically, a complete lie, but it made you feel special all the same. He kissed your temple softly as he relaxed into the couch cushions next to you. 

“So, what are we watching? Classic or trashy Christmas?” 

That question itself somehow encapsulated every single reason you loved Nathan MacKinnon, despite his pension for buying his own Christmas presents, his overly competitive nature, and the difficulty that came with trying to buy him a present. Nate didn’t love Christmas movies; he wasn’t a hater like some people you’d dated before, but you adored them, both classic and trashy alike. Nate jumped on board with whatever you liked, no questions asked. He always said you didn’t sign up to date all of his teammates that walked through the door scrounging for homemade food or the long hours alone, the least he could do was be as supportive of the things you liked as you were about hockey for him. Nate’s support came in casual, steady waves of constantly and consistently showing up, no matter how tired he was, no matter how long the day before had been. He might fall asleep twenty minutes into the movie, but Nate was here and active and present for as long as he could stay awake. He’d cross deserts and move mountains for an hour with you, and some days that’s what it took, but Nate showed up and jumped on board, which made him the easiest person in the world to love in spite of everything else. It made him the only person you wanted to spend this Christmas and every other one in the future with.

The next day, with his last name on your back and a Santa hat on your head, you found yourself in a position that felt all too familiar this season. You were watching the ice with eager eyes among the other wives and girlfriends. Your breath caught in your throat halfway through the first when you saw two seconds after him that there was nothing between Nate and the net but open ice and a goaltender. You slowly stood up, leaning forward as if those all important inches would help you see the ice better. You didn’t miss the puck sailing over the blocker’s side of the goaltender, or the eruption of cheers from everyone around you as the goal horn rang out, hopefully the first of three for Nate this evening. Mel hugged you, as if you had anything to do with Nate scoring. You adjusted your hat, pulling at the fluffy white edge until it sat a little less haphazardly on your head as you cheered. 

“Two more, right?” Mel waggled her eyebrows at you and you rolled your eyes. 

“For my sake, I hope so,” you laughed. 

Going into Christmas break without this elusive hat trick meant the next four days would be spent with Nate’s mind half at the rink, trying to scheme and plan and game his way into a hat trick, as if the part he was missing was anything other than luck. Maybe he didn’t need regular luck though, maybe just a little bit of Christmas would do the trick tonight. Your third beer in, a vain attempt to calm your nerves with alcohol, and five minutes into the second, on the power play, you watched as Nate easily sailed in his second goal of the game from the high slot, causing the ever familiar cheers and the ringing of the Avalanche goal horn to sound out across the arena. 

Two down, and hopefully one to go. 

“Hatty watch,” one of the other girls sang out from behind you, giving your shoulders a squeeze. 

You let out a loud, long breath, causing a wave of laughter to ripple across the other women around you. Mel teased you about it; they all did. Nate’s quest was well known among the group, something they were equally supportive and teasing about. 

“He’ll get one,” Mel assured you with a comforting pat to your leg. “He’s too good not to.”

You really thought he had it. You watched as Mikko and Nate peeled off from the defenders caught on an odd change, leading to a two-on-one with a lone opposing forward doing his best, but poor, impersonation of a defensemen. Mikko passed the puck to Nate, which Nate passed back easily and set himself up for the perfect slap shot on the return. The quick passing had sent the other team’s player sprawling over the ice. It was just Nate and the goaltender, who was frantically shifting his eyes from Mikko to Nate, tilting back and forth on the ice. Mikko’s pass was perfect, right on the middle of Nate’s tape and Nate was ready for the pass. It was tracking high glove side, exactly where Nate wanted it to go, right into the back of the net. The goalie was facing Mikko, two key seconds behind the actual action. Except out of nowhere, the Grinch stole Christmas and Nate’s hat trick when the goalie’s glove suddenly appeared in the path the puck was taking and wrapped around the puck, just on the wrong side of the goal line for Nate. 

The referee blew the whistle and signaled no goal. Nate’s hands dropped down, stick hanging low. His head tilted up toward the ceiling of the arena and you could practically hear the groan rise from deep in his chest. It was absolute robbery at its finest and the entire arena knew luck wasn’t on Nate’s side that night. You slumped down into your seat, preparing yourself for yet another two goal game and a frustrated Nate waiting for you in the tunnel when it was over. There were another twenty minutes left in the game, but if the first half of the season had taught you anything, third periods weren’t where Nate racked up anything other than wins and assists, both of which he loved, but he just wanted a third goal, just once. Mikko and Gabe each having one already this season, all six goals involving Nate as either the primary or secondary assist, didn’t help either. 

“I think you need to pray or something,” Mel told you with a laugh. “Pray to anything and anyone out there at this point.”

You cleared your throat and looked up at the ceiling of the Pepsi arena, “Santa, I know this isn’t how you take requests,” Mel and the girls around you were already laughing, “but please, pretty freaking please, can we just get some Christmas miracle magic vibes in here? It’s all he wants for Christmas. Please and thank you and I hope you have a Merry Christmas.” 

“Are you supposed to say amen if you pray to Santa?” someone behind you asked. 

“Look I’m not opposed to it,” you sighed. “It just didn’t feel like the right ending when I was asking for a Christmas miracle.”

The girls all laughed and you just stared up at the ceiling. Maybe Santa might grant your unorthodox request delivered via an even more unorthodox method. Maybe you should’ve written him a letter and dropped it into one of those charity red mailboxes at Macy’s. Maybe Nate just wouldn’t be getting the one thing he wanted for Christmas and there was absolutely nothing you could do about it. You knew he was joking when he asked for a hat trick for Christmas, but joking or not, it was the only thing he even sort of mentioned wanting. If sending out a Christmas wish audibly in the middle of the Pepsi arena was what it took, you were more than happy to do it. 

You grabbed your fourth and fifth beer together during the intermission, knowing full and well that you didn’t want to miss a second of one of Nate’s shifts in case something good happened. If after all of this time, all of this waiting, all of Nate’s back and forth debating, if you missed his hat trick goal because you were grabbing another beer, you would have to guess that higher powers didn’t exist and the hockey gods loved laughing at you and maybe Christmas wasn’t that magical after all. 

The third period was half over when you finished your fourth beer. Your right leg had been bouncing on the concrete since the period started. Nate was getting some good looks, and added another assist to his point tally for the night, but you and everyone knew what he actually wanted tonight. A slashing call with eight minutes to go put the Avalanche back on the power play, and you knew Nate was going to fight to play every bit of those two minutes he could get, which meant you were about to be in for a mentally exhausting two minutes. Mel offered her hand to you, already knowing you would need her to ground you through this. 

The first shot on the power play from Mikko ended up in the opposing goaltender’s glove. Nate lined up for the next face-off and you swore you didn’t breathe as soon as the puck left the referee's hand. Nate swept it back easily to a waiting Gabe. You gripped Mel’s hand hard, grateful you both did this for each other often enough that she didn’t mind. Nate slid up through the low slot and you saw the stars aligning as Gabe sent the puck perfectly in Nate’s direction. Nate was already ready for it when it came, the puck on his stick for less than a second. Your eyes went wide and you felt like you were about to break Mel’s hand as the goaltender shrugged his shoulder up to block Nate’s shot, but he came up short and the puck hit the back of the net. 

You were screaming as you jumped to your feet, arms wrapping tightly around Mel as someone else hugged you from behind, again like you’d done anything other than practically give yourself a heart attack watching it. Nate was surrounded by his teammates on the ice, earning a swift pat on the top of the head from Gabe. A glance up at the Jumbotron showed you the wide, bright smile on his face, filling with relief and absolute joy. Mel grabbed your hat by the pom pom and chucked it down towards the ice, making you laugh and a smile that rivaled Nate’s come across your face.

“Finally,” you breathed out a sigh of relief as the arena calmed itself, calming you with it. 

You plopped back down into your seat, hatless with half a beer and your pride in Nate left to coast you through the next ten minutes. You knew Nate was going to be in a good mood, and you just wanted to get through the next ten minutes of the game to get to him and congratulate him yourself. The score was heavy in favor of the Avs and they weren’t in any danger of losing this game, so you got to drink your beer and let out a long breath you’d been holding since Nate first came home after back to back two goal games in October without a hat trick in sight. 

You were practically bouncing on your heels as you waited in the tunnel for him, fingers fussing with the frayed edge of your denim jacket to get out some of your anxious energy. The second he rounded the corner, a wide, gorgeous smile on his face, you ran toward him. Nate wasn’t the type for large public displays of affection, but satisfaction from your incredibly competitive boyfriend was a hell of an influencer and he opened his arms wide for you. You jumped into him and he stumbled a second before catching you easily, one hand guiding your legs around his waist, the other supporting the back of your thighs. 

“Congratulations,” you mumbled in his ear as he laughed at your openly shared excitement for him. 

“Thanks, baby,” he told you, the smile he was wearing evident in his voice.

“Proud of you always,” you reminded him as you untucked your head from his neck. 

You said it after every single game, win or lose, five points or no points, goal or no goal, you told Nate you were proud of him after every single game. The stats sheet didn’t matter to you. You loved him and you saw the grueling work he put in every single day, every single second he was on the ice. You were proud of him no matter what, and it was one of the thousands of reasons he had come to love you for. Your support, your pride in him and the work he put in never wavered. It was steadfast, something hard to come by in a life as crazy as he lived. You were his rock, his home, and he felt it like the gradual, comforting warmth from sitting by the fire on Christmas Eve, when the world seemed a little more good than it actually was, when you told him you were proud of him. 

Nate smiled as he pressed a soft, quick kiss to your lips before gently guiding your feet back to the ground. He pulled you in tighter, collapsing you into him as he let out a long breath that had been holding his tension for months, caught in the hollows of his chest, finally working its way out into the open air. It had been haunting him, like a ghastly Halloween hangover that dared to last until Christmas. Thankfully, it was December now and Nate felt lighter and freer than he had in months. 

“You got what you wanted for Christmas,” you mumbled into his chest, causing his chest to vibrate with laughter. 

“Guess I sort of did, yeah.” He kissed the top of your head softly. “Ready to go home?” 

“Ready for four days of you and me time?” you teased him a little. 

Despite your teasing, his response was entirely genuine, “Been looking forward to it for weeks now.” 

Your smile in response to his words stuck with you the entire way home. Nate loved you in actions, but sometimes it was nice to hear words from him as well. You kicked off your shoes at the front door, just in the knick of time before the dogs could come and greet you both. 

“Want me to crack a bottle of wine or champagne?” you asked Nate as he dropped his bag by the front door. 

“Champagne,” he told you before dropping a kiss to your temple. “We’re celebrating tonight.” 

You slid into the kitchen, dogs hot on your heels, as you made a beeline for the champagne in the fridge. You’d slid it in before you left for the game on the chance Nate finally got his hat trick tonight. You hadn’t wanted to drink warm champagne if that was the case and now, holding the cold bottle of champagne and two flutes, you knew you had made the right decision betting on your boyfriend tonight. He rounded the corner into the kitchen a few moments later, game day suit still on, jacket and tie lost back in your shared bedroom.

“Glad you got yourself what you wanted for Christmas, Nate,” you smiled teasingly at him as you started to fuss with the gold foil over the champagne cork. 

“Before you pop that,” he told you, reaching a hand out to place over yours as you worked on the foil covering the cork, “I, um, I have something for you.” 

“Nate, it’s December twenty-third,” you sighed, setting the bottle down on the cool stone counter. “Can’t it wait a couple of days?” 

Nate smiled softly at you, a smile that seemed to mean he knew more than you in this exact moment, “I’ve actually been holding on to this gift for a long time and I think tonight is the perfect night to give it to you. Are you okay if I blow up Christmas a little bit?” 

You sighed again and gave Nate a stern look up and down, but the softness in his blue eyes and the innocence in his lazy smile pulled you in and had you nodding in approval. Your nod caused nerves to dance in Nate’s eyes and his hands to slide into his pockets, fidgeting with their contents. He shifted softly from one foot to the other. His eyes dropped to the floor for a moment to watch his feet move before he slowly lifted his head back up in time with a bounce on his heels. 

“Okay, here we go,” he mumbled softly to himself. 

He cleared his throat before speaking, “I told you I don’t know what I want for Christmas. Hell, I told you that I didn’t know what I wanted for my birthday and that was back in September. The truth is I’ve known what I’ve actually wanted the whole time. The hat trick was nice and all, but it wasn’t really what I wanted.”

“Whatever it is, you could’ve told me,” you chided him a little. 

Your words were met with an anxious smile and more shuffling of his feet across the floor. He shook his head softly and let out a tight breath before continuing. 

“The only thing I want for Christmas is something you can give me, but you can get it for me,” he told you softly, his voice shaking as he spoke, the nerves in his eyes and his feet and his hands tightening and constricting his voice resonating in his chest. 

Nate slowly pulled a hand out of his pocket before purposefully, and painstakingly slowly, dropping down on one knee in front of you. Your hands flew over your mouth on instinct and your eyes clouded over instantly. Nate smiled softly at your reaction, trying desperately not to let what he hoped your actions meant take over and make him too hopeful of your answer to his question to prevent him from asking it. He carefully opened the small black box in his hand to show you your early Christmas present, a beautiful ring nestled among the black velvet inside. 

“For Christmas, I’d like for you to say you’ll be my wife,” he continued slowly and as steadily as he could. “The thing I’m most proud of, of everything I’ve ever done, is being your partner. I love you so much more than I say, but I hope I show it enough that you want to sign up for me forever because it’s just you. It’s just you forever, for every single day, every single holiday, every single moment. I want to spend every single Christmas for the rest of my life with you. So, what do you say? Will you be my wife? Will you make my Christmas wish come true?” 

The cliches hung thick in his words, but the emotions behind them, the sentiment was so true you could feel it in the very core of who you were. Nathan MacKinnon saw you, faults and gifts and everything in between and loved you in the steadiest, most true way you had ever known. In the light of the Christmas tree, in the home you built together, with the life you build together palatable around you, Nate was asking you to build the rest of it together. You didn’t have to think about your answer. 

“Yes, Nate. Yes, I’ll marry you.” 

Nerves gave way to relief which even more quickly gave way to joy on Nate’s face as he slowly slid the ring he’d had tucked in the back drawer for months onto your finger where it belonged. Nate let out a long breath at the sight of it finally on your hand before slowly standing up in front of you, his hands reaching out to cup your face gingerly. 

“Best early Christmas present ever,” you told him with a wide smile on your face. 

He smiled back just as widely and happily as you grinned at him, “Merry Christmas, my future wife.”

[tealenko]

Listen Before I Go (Chapter 2)

Chapter 2: Coffee

Yay~~ I told you this one would be fast (and so it will the next, it's almost finished weeee)

This is the last chapter before we get deep into Shepard's origin story... Hope you like it!!

Summary: Sofía explains to Kaidan the origin of her nickname and prepares herself to tell him everything she knows about Shepard.

Words: 1219 Rating: Teens and Up Warning: Dealing with death

Read in AO3 -> [link] Previous Chapter -> [link] Next Chapter -> [link] Through Hell and Back series -> [link]

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They sit in silence for minutes.

Sofía with her eyes glued to her cup of coffee, and Kaidan’s set on Sofía, tracing all her features one by one.

She matches almost to perfection all of Shepard’s descriptions, with her sky blue eyes and her ivory skin, but there’s one thing missing from everything he had imagined: there’s no longer any light in her.

No jovial smile printed on her face, which she said Sofía always wears everywhere with pride; a relentless optimism and braveness that no one could match or destroy no matter how hard they tried.

Instead, It seems that, against what she deemed impossible, Shepard is now the cause of what she thought no one could ever accomplish, for she has broken her dearest friend into a million different pieces, way too small to put back together again into a functioning human being.

The icy teal gaze is still there, and so are the deep black hair and the snowy skin. He understands now why Shepard described her as beautiful as a frozen lake in the middle of a sunset, with that scarlet red scar that marks her cheek contrasting and adding even more beauty to all of her features.

But her spirit has been decimated.

And who could blame her? He thinks as he waits patiently for her new acquaintance to be ready to talk.

After spending a couple of long minutes in complete silence, she finally finds the will and the strength to break it.

“Thank you...” She abandons her cup to look at him as she says that. “I can see now why Dee liked you so much.” He looks confused at her until she explains the meaning of her words. “Not many people are able to see what I’m going through… And even less would’ve waited there, without a proper explanation, until I was ready to talk.”

“If there’s someone who understands you...” Kaidan hesitates for a moment, worrying his statement has crossed a line he shouldn’t have. “I mean...”

“I know…” She smiles faintly at him. “Don’t worry. It’s okay.” She grabs his wrist for a few seconds to make him see she understands what he was trying to imply. "You don’t have to…"

“I’m sorry about your mother.” He adds, mimicking her previous gesture of comfort and grabbing her wrist for a few seconds in an encouraging squeeze.

“Thanks.” She nods her head. “I… Thanks.”

“Shepard was worried about you...” He clears his throat with a cough. “And… I know you barely know me… But, if you ever need...”

“Thank you.” She gives him a short smile. “You’re really kind.”

“Well… Mio always talked about you like you were her little sister, so...”

“Yeah...” Her smile starts to fade as she looks away one more time. “Dee always is… Was. Very protective.”

He finishes his drink as she says this, too busy with his coffee to notice the sadness in her eyes left behind by her words, and Sofía silently thanks the universe for his distraction, not ready yet to talk about what she’s really going through; not even with him.

“Can I ask you something?” He says as he signals the waitress for a refill with his hand.

“Sure… I’ll do my best to answer you, although I cannot promise anything.” She laughs a little, trying her best to relax and focus again on the conversation.

“You keep calling her Dee… Where does that come from?” She stares at him in awe for a couple of seconds. “If you don’t mind telling me.”

“You don’t know?” She asks surprised.

“No.”

“I thought you knew.” She adopts a thinking expression for a few seconds. “And… Well, if you don’t, I guess no one else does. Apart from me, I mean.” Sofía lets the thought of it haunt her for a few seconds, still finding it hard to believe she’s the only one left from their unit. “So… She didn’t tell you?”

“Mio didn’t like to talk about her past.” He answers, replying to her subtle smile with one of his own. “I think she talked about you more than she ever did about herself.”

Sofía laughs a little, not surprised by what she’s hearing.

“It’s weird to hear her real name.” Her smile deepens, feeling glad that, in the end, she was able to find someone to share it with. “She never let us use it.”

“I see…” Kaidan stares at her one more time, not really sure of what to say next.

“It’s Detroit, by the way.”

“Huh?” He asks, a little bit confused.

“Dee… Comes from Detroit. We didn’t use our names back in our unit, you know? She and another member of our unit started the whole tradition.” Sofía explains to him, smiling a little as memories start to flood her mind little by little. “That’s why she called me Cat. It’s where I was born. Catania, Italy.”

“Ah, I see… That's why you have an Italian name? The real one, I mean.”

“Ah… No. My parents were there on leave when I was born, but the name doesn’t have any correlation.” She looks at the ceiling for a few seconds, remembering random bits of the stories her parents told her about it. “The name was my mum’s idea. Her part of the family is from Spain… I think I had a great aunt or something of sorts who I’m supposed to be named after. I’m not one hundred percent sure, though.” She laughs at how little she knows about it. “I guess I should’ve asked them more about the whole deal when I was little… But I never really cared.”

“Either way, it’s a beautiful name.”

“Thanks… ” She takes a second before she finishes her sentence. “Sometimes I find it weird too when people use it. I went from Cat to Ryder… Except for my family, of course. But only my brother uses it, and not too often…”

Kaidan nods and inquires about her brother, and they spend the next few minutes speaking about their respective families, as they keep waiting for their coffees, making time until he musters the courage to say what he really wants to ask her.

“Shepard got it the same way as you? I mean, because of her birthplace.”

“Yeah.” She hesitates a little and stops to think for a few seconds, finally making up her mind about it. “Wanna know how the whole thing started.”

A wide smile appears on Kaidan’s, so real and honest that she can’t avoid replying with one of her own, seeing him more excited about their conversation than in any single moment of the last few hours.

“I’d love to...” He replies in the sweetest tone of voice, full of expectations.

The waitress finally makes it to their table and refills their cups of coffee.

“Well then.” Her smile deepens as she prepares herself. ”I guess I should start from the beginning… Yeah.” Sofía makes a silent pause before continuing. “If I’m gonna tell you this the right way, there’s one more name you need to know.”

She takes a sip of her coffee after she says this, which only makes Kaidan’s curiosity grow even higher.

“Which is...” She smiles as she rests her cup on the table, taking a second before finally answering him.

“Vancouver.”

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So yeah... Next chapter you'll meet Shepard's best friend from her early days in the Alliance (I'm so ready for the fun stuff to begin... I do enjoy the angst, but I prefer fics to be more chill and happy)

See you on the next one!! Bye~~

[hot-wiings]

The One Where Despite The Sports Festival, Shouto Todoroki Hates Using His Quirk, But [Y/N] [L/N] Enjoys It.

Edited: 12-2-2020

"It's so fucking cold."

The words came out rushed and loud as you clattered your teeth together. Your arms rubbed up and down over your thin school jacket as you cursed at your teacher in your head. You were supposed to be indoors, doing this school activity inside of the warm enclosed walls of Gym Gamma, instead, Shouta had your class outside, working on the P.E grounds due to miscommunication and overlapping training schedules with class B.

"C'mere, you're warm, I'm cold, hug me."

You buried yourself into the warmer side of your boyfriend, Shouto Todoroki. He had his own personal built-in heating pad, it wasn't fair to let him keep it all to himself. After all, sharing is caring. A light blush spread across his face as he slung his left arm around your back and let his left hand rest on your arm. He pulled you against him, helping you create heat as he debated giving you his own jacket to put on.

"Mm. That's great."

Shouto let out a small smile and he moved his warm, left hand up and down your arm as you both watched Mina spar with Mineta. His hand came up and rolled over your shoulder and made soft contact with your ear and cheek.

"Talking about me or the fight?"

"Well I was talking about you, but I can't say I don't find pleasure in seeing Mineta get beat."

"I know he can be a jerk, but isn't she going a little extreme. I'm surprised he isn't unconscious."

You let out a small chuckle as Mina destroyed his balls with her acid and delivered yet another punch to his face. You had to admit, she was going a bit hardcore on him, and you were sure Mr. Aizawa could see that, but no one stopped her. You were sure she was going so extreme with him due to the stunt he tried pulling the week before, your blood boiled and you clenched your fists just thinking about it. You hadn't told Shouto about said stunt, choosing to keep it a secret between you and Mina.

"He deserves it! He's commenting on our bodies is one thing, but he crossed a line last week."

"What did he do now?"

Shouto knew the boy's schemes were horrendous, and he tried his best to put the pervert back in line when you asked him to or complained about it. It was his job as a boyfriend to make you feel secure, and he took pride in it. He wanted to be the opposite of his father, a significant other you could run to for help, and making you feel safe and protected from the antics of your lesser classmate was how he did that, but you and neglected to tell your boyfriend about how bad the boy was getting.

Shouto placed a chase kiss onto the top of your head as he ran his hand up and down, his fingers leaving warm soothing circles on your shoulder. You pulled your lip between your teeth, realizing you slipped up and mentioned it. You hadn't told your boyfriend about the stunt Mineta pulled because you were both embarrassed it even happened, and ashamed you couldn't defend yourself. Besides that fact, Shouto could get jealous and possessive. Whenever you mention Mineta was bothering you Shouto didn't give you a chance to ask for help, he just seemed to take care of it. Jealousy and possession was a natural human feeling, but you didn't want him trying to murder the boy for his severe actions.

"Uh, well, I mean it's not worth sharing that much. Just the usual nasty things he does."

"What did he do?"

Shouto ran his fingers over your rosy, cold cheeks. Trying to entice you to answer him by distracting you with warmth. It worked.

"He snuck into the girl's dorms to spy on us after hours! To make things worse, he tried watching me change. When I saw him, he used his damned balls to make me sticky. Stuck in my bra and panties, completely helpless and unable to move. You have no idea how humiliated and disgusting I felt!"

"I would've made him apologize. Why didn't you tell me?"

Shoutos grip on your arm loosened but you could still feel the heat just radiating off of his body. He was upset that you didn't tell him, you knew that, but for all the wrong reasons. What you assumed was jealousy, in reality, was fear. The thought that you didn't need or want him to defend you. He took joy in it, he took joy in protecting you. What he so proudly took pride in, was swept away by Mina.

Mina had finally knocked Mineta out and walked past you and Shouto with a shit-eating grin on her face. She shot a thumbs-up signal in your direction as she went to the infirmary to retrieve Recovery Girl for Mineta. Nonverbal communication that she had avenged your dignity, but to Shouto it was just a slap in his face. Why hadn't you immediately told him? He would've knocked Mineta down a peg or two. He would've humbled him down and made him apologize. He should have been the one to redeem your dignity and redeem your image. He should've been the one defending your honor, but you hadn't even told him about it.

Did you not trust him? Was he not good at making you feel secure?

"Todoroki vs. Bakugo."

The anger and frustration was already taking over Shouto as he broke away from you and walked toward the center of the training grounds to meet Katsuki. The feral boy wasted no time in blasting Shouto, trying to anger him resulting in him using his flames unlike he had in the sports festival.

"Die!"

Shouto rebutted Katsuki's blast by hitting him with ice. Aggravated and aggressive, Katsuki sent boom after boom, blast after blast while he growled out phrases to work Shouto up and bring out his flames.

"Won't use your flames? Pathetic. I honestly wonder why [Y/N] is with you, my explosions always got her going."

"Leave her name out of your mouth."

Emotions consumed him once your name left Katsuki lips. He was angry that you didn't trust him enough to tell him about how his classmate tried to defile your image. Sad that you hadn't gone to him for comfort and redemption but Mina instead. All his emotions were thrust into his quirk as he sent Katsuki one hard blast of his flames. Blow after blow, eventually, Katsuki went down. He gripped his arm which now held a severe burn from a Shouto as he screamed out fuck you's.

As he cooled down, ex or not, Shouto couldn't help but regret his actions towards Katsuki. He saw the burns he left Katsuki with. He saw Katsuki gripping his arm as Recover Girl made her way over to him. He could see Katsuki resist help, trying to say it wasn't as bad as it was. He looked over at you, as you stared at him while you bit your lip, guilt flooded his entire being.

What if that had been you? What if he had lost his temper with you? If he was capable of snapping at Katsuki so quickly, what was he capable of with you?

Shouto made his way over to you and with quick hands, you grabbed onto him. You inspected him for injuries, worried he had been hurt too. Shouto hadn't been the only one to get blows in, but his injuries weren't physical. As your worried eyes met his, he felt disgusted with himself. He didn't understand how you were able to cling to such a monster like him. Katsuki's burns flashed in his head as Shouto pulled away from your grasp and ripped his jacket from his back.

He could hurt you. He was capable of hurting you.

"I'm fine. Here, take my jacket so you can be warmer."

"Oh, won't you need it? Quirks are just physical extensions of your body, I don't want you overexerting yourself."

"Don't worry about me. I'm going back to the dorms since my fights over."

His voice came out rushed, his tone cold, harsh and you frowned. Before he even heard your reply, Shouto turned on his heel and walked off to class 1-A's dorm rooms. He hadn't meant to be so cold with you. He didn't want to be harsh with you. Anyone, but you. He didn't want to, but he couldn't stand to be there with you. He couldn't stand there and let you take advantage of his quirk. He couldn't stand there and heat you knowing how he could hurt you. After what he did to Katsuki, you should have been disgusted with him.

He was a monster, he wasn't worthy of you.

"Who's next on the list?"

The snow fell around you, wetting your hair and getting your clothes damp as you pulled your hands out of your pockets and opened your phone with stiff cold fingers to look at the Christmas list you both together made weeks prior. Shouto wanted to reach across the small gap between you. He wanted to reach over and push your hair behind your ear. He wanted to reach out and pull your frozen hand into his warm one, but he wouldn't. He couldn't, he was already pushing the limit by being here as it was.

He was distancing himself, pulling away, and hoping you would receive the subtle hints he was dropping your way. The hints that he wanted to break up, to no longer see you, to no longer be yours. It wasn't that this is what he wanted, it's what he felt needed to be done. Shouto didn't want to hurt you by breaking up. He didn't want to be away from you. To him, you were his whole world, one of his motivations to become a hero. The more he thought about it, the more he realized how much safer you'd be off without him. How much safer, how much better you'd be without a monster like him.

He hoped the list was almost over with, he wasn't sure he'd be able to handle another minute with you. He knew he couldn't handle breaking your heart himself, so ingeniously he found a solution: Be detached until you break up with him instead. He was supposed to distance himself, but all he wanted to do was pull you in his arms. He knew he should've stayed at the dorms, stayed in the confines of his dorm room, neglecting you under the pretense of studying. However, when you came to him asking if he still wanted to go Christmas shopping together like you both originally planned to, he couldn't say no. The way you looked at him, a broken hopeful expression that he would say yes. Hopeful that he'd want to spend time with you despite him pushing you away. It broke his stoic reserve.

"We still need a guitar for Kyouka, a bag for Ochako, and something for Momo, she's kinda hard to shop for because she already has everything, but I saw her eyeing a necklace last month. I bet we could even find Ochako a bag in the same store."

He was practically ecstatic to hear you only had three more people to shop for, two of which could be hit in the same store. The quicker this was over the better. You placed your phone back in your pocket and reached out for Shouto's hand. The gap was closed between you both as you tugged him along the sidewalk with you towards the store you needed. Shouto smiled. He briefly smiled and relished in the feeling of your hand in his, but it was short-lived as he pulled his hand out of yours and stuffed it in his pocket.

He knew there must have been a hurt expression on your face, but he had to take a moment to remind himself. He had to remind himself why he was distancing himself from you. It was for you. You didn't deserve to be with a monster like him. You didn't deserve it, all you needed was a push in the right direction.

As you walked beside Shouto into the Lois Vuitton outlet store your heart felt heavy but you tried your best to push through the pain. You couldn't pretend that there wasn't anything wrong with your relationship. You couldn't pretend that your boyfriend hadn't been distant, hadn't been cold and closed off. He used to be so sweet, sweet, and present. He would walk you to your dorm after class, take you for walks, hold your hand, and more often than not, take you out on impromptu dates. He didn't do that anymore. He was cold and absent. He rarely talked to you and he put little to no effort into being with you. Even when you tried putting all the effort, you could see him pulling away. As he pulled away more and more, you had to wonder if he even wanted to be around you.

You had a whirlwind of thoughts on why he was being so distant, why he no longer wanted you. You just wanted all the worries and thoughts to go away. You wanted the negative reasons you'd come up with every night as you laid in bed to be gone. You wanted things to go back to normal because, despite all of this, you were holding out hope that things would go back to normal. Hope that perhaps he would begin to come around again.

You walked through Louis Vuitton with Shouto hot on your trail as you went to the jewelry display. Shouto quickly grasped the right necklace in his hands, the expensive a thousand dollar golden lipstick holder necklace. He turned to you with a determined smile.

"This is the one right?"

Suddenly, that dark cloud of thoughts came out again. The one that rained on you when you were at your most hopeful. The one that said he didn't love you, but most likely fell for another. The one that gave you the most probable answer.

"How'd you know that was the one she wanted?"

"I was with you both when you saw it."

It was a logistic explanation, but the simple sentence placed the seed of doubt into your head. Doubt that slowly diminished your hope. Despite the awfully, distrustful feeling it left you with, you chose to give Shouto the benefit of the doubt as you made your way over the bag selection.

"So, everyone's making plans for Christmas, and I was wondering if we were going to spend it together."

"I haven't really thought about my Christmas plans yet."

"We don't have to if you don't want to, figured I'd ask."

You kept your face away from Shouto and buried in the bag rack. You didn't want him to see the expression on your face. You didn't want him to see the remnants of all the hope you had left in this relationship. There was a right answer, the right answer you hoped he'd say, but that seed of doubt knew he wasn't going to say it.

"I was gonna go home for Christmas. Figured we both could use time with our families."

A single stray tear made its way down your cheek as his sentences tumbled out. All the hope you had left in your body crumpled as his words resounded in your ears. You hadn't spent a Christmas apart since the start of your three-year relationship. He knew you didn't have the best family. He knew you hated your father just as much as he hated his father. You both made it your tradition to be together for the holidays. You asking about it wasn't supposed to be a question, but reassurance he wasn't going to leave you alone. It was reassuring you he still cared, but all it did was water the seed.

"You want to go home for Christmas? I thought you hated being home over the holidays."

"Some things change, [Y/N]. You don't have a problem with it, do you?"

Of course you did. He was abandoning you. He was leaving you over Christmas for his bastard father he hated. The seed of doubt was beginning to blossom and you were looking for ways to uproot it. You had one vice left to try. His jealousy. If he so much as still loved or even liked you as a girlfriend, then just bringing up you and another boy alone would bring out the beast. No matter how innocent it would be, whether it be walking in the halls, or studying, Shouto could get possessive of you, and while you hated the idea of playing into his emotions like this, it was necessary.

"Of course not! Denki invited me to go on a trip over holiday break anyway. The guy he interns for owns a mansion up north, perfect for skiing. You don't have a problem with that, do you?"

"No, I hope you have fun."

You scanned Shouto's face for any indication that you going up north with Denki alone bothered him, but stoic as ever he was unbothered. A last resort really, but you pulled out a card you never wanted to.

"You're sure? Katsuki is going to be there, and I don't want to make you uncomfortable by hanging out with my ex for a week and a half."

"[Y/N], I don't care. Go ahead, you know not to do something you'd regret."

If Shouto really cared for you he would have said yes. He would've said he had a problem with his girlfriend going on a trip with her ex-boyfriend. You thrust the bag into Shouto's arms and avoided his eyes, scared you would let the tears flow out in front of him.

"Um, can you go pay? I need to use the bathroom."

Shouto tried not to look over at you on the couch. He wanted to scoot closer to you, he wanted to pull your body against his. He wanted to see the little face you made when his warmth took over your freezing skin, he wanted you to fall asleep on him. He wanted to be close to you again, he wanted things to go back to how they used to be. They couldn't go back, it wasn't that simple. He could never revert back into your loving boyfriend, he couldn't allow himself to be yours. 

As the weeks from that day in the outlet mall progressed, Shouto could feel his resolve diminish. Despite the distance you still tried to connect and be around him, he was still your boyfriend no matter how cold of a front he put up. It hurt to have you trying to cling to him but he kept pushing you away. It hurt to have you offer date opportunities only for him to turn them down. What hurt Shouto the most was letting you go on that trip with Katsuki. He wanted to tell you not to go on that trip, he wanted to tell you to stay at the dorms with him. With every passing day you talked with Katsuki more and more, it pained Shouto to act like he was fine and chill with it.  

Shouto didn't know this was a ploy to make him jealous to try and incite any lingering feelings for you. He didn't know that you weren't even planning to go on the trip with Katsuki but actually planned to stay at the dorms once he left for his own family home for the holidays. You chatted up katsuki more often and even went as far as to ask Shouto for advice on a bathing suit to both bring forth feelings from him and make your lie more convincing. It wasn't as though Shouto wasn't jealous, it wasn't as though he stopped caring for you and who you hung out with. The idea of you in a bikini with Katsuki grated him. The two of you in a hot tub, escaping the dreaded cold rubbed him the wrong way, but he needed to let it happen, he needed to push you away into the arms of someone more worthy, into the arms of another.  

"When are you leaving for your trip?"

Shouto hadn't even turned to look at you as he spoke out the question. He hadn't looked and maybe had he, he would've seen how broken you looked, he would've seen your disheveled appearance and his resolve would've broken for sure. With your legs pulled up on the couch and your head resting on your knees, a frown on your face as you stole sneaky little glances at your boyfriend when he wasn't looking. He never looked at you anymore, just another indication of where your relationship was headed. 

"Katsuki and I are meeting at the airport in a couple of hours, he said the ticket was paid for by his internship boss, but I think he's really paying for it."

Shouto didn't look at you, and it hurt. What guy didn't get upset, or weird at the very least, at the idea of his girlfriend going on a trip with her ex-boyfriend? Beyond that, the proposed idea that his girlfriend is getting a plane ticket paid for by said ex-boyfriend should upset him. You snagged your lip between your teeth as your grip on your legs tightened. 

"When are you going home?" 

"Tonight."

You nodded your head and made a mental note to leave until he left to make it seem you went on the trip. You didn't want him knowing that you planned to stay in the dorms alone over Christmas, but those were his exact plans. He hadn't spent a Christmas apart from you since the beginning of this relationship, and he just wanted to wallow in self-pity over having pushed you away successfully. 

"Do you want to exchange gifts before we leave?"

"I didn't think we were getting each other gifts since we're not seeing each other on Christmas."

You let out a sigh as you tried to keep the tears down. You were so hopeful, you were holding out for him but you couldn't anymore. You got him a gift, hoping that Christmas would bring out the best in him and make him open up. You thought that the day would roll around and everything would be fixed by the magic of Christmas. He hadn't even gotten you a gift, yet he knew what neckless Momo wanted. You couldn't do it anymore, you couldn't pretend things would get better. You couldn't pretend he still loved you.

"What did I do wrong? I'm sorry, I can fix it. I'm sorry, I'll fix it."

The tears began leaking out and running down your cheeks in warm streaks. You tried to keep your little sniffles quiet by pressing your hand over your mouth and nose. You didn't want him to see you cry, you didn't want him to hear your tears, but he did. Shouto looked over at you with knitted eyebrows before looking back at the fireplace. He wanted to comfort you, he wanted to hold you and reassure you that it was okay, but he needed to push you away. 

"I'm drowning, I'm drowning Shouto. I don't understand what I did to make us like this. Am I too clingy, do I suffocate you? I'll give you space, I can give you more space!"

Shouto clenched his fists as your words tumbled out in frantic sentences but he stayed silent. He did so well, he's done so well at pushing you away. He had to keep his resolve up, he had to push away. You didn't deserve him, you didn't deserve to be with such a monster. 

"When Katsuki broke up with me he said it was cause' I'm weak. Is that it, am I too weak for you? I'll train harder. I'll be a hero you can be proud of."

Shouto kept his face away from yours, silently and still staring at the fire. He knew if he looked at you then he would break. If he looked at you he would crawl into your arms and whisper reassuring words on how Katsuki is an ass, reassuring words on how strong you were. He wanted to tell you that you always made him proud, but he didn't let himself. The more he continued being silent, the more it hurt you. More tears flowed from your eyes as you spoke out the sentence you so solemnly tried to quell. The thought you so desperately had been trying to put out like a wild fire. 

"Deep down I know the truth, you want her, don't you? Momo? God, how stupid I must look, my boyfriend and my best friend right under my nose."

You pressed your hand to your mouth to muffle a strangled sob as you wiped away your tears with the back of your hand, futile as more quickly replaced them. Shouto looked over at you, a few tears dripping down from his own eyes. That's what you thought? That he was cheating? Shouto wasn't sure if he should feel insulted for you thinking so low of him, but then again, had the roles been reversed with you pushing him away, he would think the same.

"I... I just want you to know I don't blame you Shouto. She can suit your needs so well. She's smarter, rich, and god, she's so much prettier. I- I'm sorry I wasn't enough for you, I'm sorry I couldn't satisfy you. I'm sorry I wasted your ti"- 

"Don't say that, don't, just don't. Don't compare yourself to her. I don't want Momo, I haven't wanted anyone except for you."

"Then why don't you want me? You don't touch me anymore, you don't even look at me. I don't understand what I did."

"You didn't do anything! You did nothing, it's me! I'm the problem, I'm the issue."

Shouto stood up abruptly, pacing back and forth he ran his hand through his hair roughly. He should've kept his resolve, he should've stayed solid, but hearing the quiver in your voice, hearing your thoughts, your deeply negative thoughts broke him so.

"You are so perfect, [Y/N]. I love when you cling to me, you're so strong, you're beautiful and perfect, and fuck! The only reason I remembered Momo's necklace was because it was right next to the earrings I bought for you."

You stood up and wrapped your arms around Shouto. You buried your face in his chest as he let his tears fall. He should push you away, he should make distance from you, but he couldn't. He couldn't, instead, he wrapped his arms around you and let out his own sob into your hair as he held you close for the first time in days.

"I'm such a monster [Y/N]. I'm such a monster, I'm just like my dad. You saw how I burned Katsuki. You shouldn't be with me, I might hurt you."

You pulled out of Shouto's arms to cup his face. There was a frown on your face, leaving him with an unsettling feeling in his gut that you agreed. It was quite the opposite.

"Shouto, you would never hurt me. I don't know where you got that idea, but I know you would never. You are sweet, caring, and possibly the best boyfriend to ever exist. You are not your father, you are Shouto Todorki, my boyfriend."

"I've hurt you so much these past few weeks. I've ignored you, and I've been cold, why are you still here."

"You pushed me away because you thought it was good for me. Granted that wasn't your choice to make, I'm still here because I love you, and you love me, the rest is pudding."

You pressed your lips against Shoutos, they felt warm and rough, you hadn't felt them in so long, how you missed them so. You pressed into the kiss, with him pulling you closer, want and need dripping between you both as your wandering hands pulled and tugged each other.

"Tell me what's going on instead of pushing me away next time. I'm not letting you go, no matter how hard you push me away. I'm here to stay."

"I will, I promise. I love you, [Y/N], so much. I need you in my life. I've been an awful ass, and I know I'm in no place to make requests, but please don't go with Katsuki."

"I never planned to, I turned him down when he first asked. I wanted to spend Christmas with you, Sho. We're always together for the holidays, we have our own traditions, and spending it with anyone else isn't right."

"I wasn't gonna go home either, was gonna stay here. What a pair of liars we are, c'mon, I think we can still salvage this Christmas Eve."

Shouto kissed your hand and tugged you towards the kitchen. With your hands enveloped in each other, all was right. It was right, being with you was right. Maybe he was a monster, maybe he was temperamental, but that was something he was willing to work on to be with you.

[croscupsroom]

True Happiness (T, pre Sam/Castiel, 1.5 k.) True happiness lies in the mundane (and it’s bedtime for Sam and Castiel). Set some time after 14.08. Read on AO3.

AN: if it looks familiar, i have posted this before but accidentally deleted that account. thought i'd reupload it since i put it on AO3.

AN: short mention of cas having skipped meals, towards the end.

In the evenings now, Castiel likes to go down to Sam’s room, and hangs out in it doing quiet activities or watching TV until Sam comes to bed. They’ve had this routine for a while, only skipping nights when the brothers are out of town. This time, it’s not exactly the evening — more like the middle of the night, not that long before it crisps into early morning.

Sam doesn’t have the healthiest of sleep schedules. He sleeps too little, at imprecise hours. That doesn’t bother Castiel. He doesn’t sleep at all, so Sam’s lack of habits doesn’t inconvenience him. What preoccupies him is Sam’s health. He listened to a podcast episode, once, that detailed how exactly lack of sleep could impact human bodies. Hearing that made him think of Sam, sluggish; of the cogs in his brain rickety from too few hours of rest. It made him worry about future outcomes.

“Alright, Dean,” Sam says from outside his bedroom door. This signals the end of a conversation Castiel wasn’t privy to. Like most of theirs, really.

Cas sits on the bed, legs extended in front of him. His shoes are on the floor, by the bottom of the bed. He’s wearing pajamas. Something tells him that the flannel feels pleasant, where it falls on the outside of his shell.

The last time they went to Goodwill together to shop for Jack, Sam pointed out the set on the rack. Maybe you’ll like this better than sitting in your clothes all night long , Sam said like the subject might bristle Cas.

Castiel is an angel. Clothes are all the same to him. What the remark told him, though, was that it must bother Sam for him not to change himself at bedtime. Why else would he suggest it at all, or so cautiously? Castiel wondered if it was that the trench coat’s noise bothered him, whenever some of the polyester canvas rubbed on itself in soft scratches that made him cringe. Maybe it was that Castiel disrespected some social convention without realizing it, and Sam was hinting at some way to fix it.

Looking at the flannel on the hanger, Castiel wondered if it was that Sam might want him to get undressed at night, and act as though they were going to bed together.

Of course , Castiel said then. I’d like that better.

You sure? Sam retreated, like he was worried that he had pushed Cas too far, and forced his answer.

I am, yes. I’m sure this sleepwear will be more comfortable. That was a lie, but one that he hoped would reassure his friend.

Sam, swelling up in relief, put the pajamas in the cart and waited for Castiel to follow him to the next rack.

Since then, Castiel changed into the pajamas in the evening before Sam turned in for the night. They developed their own little rituals, like maybe Sam was hoping to by suggesting the pajamas in the first place.

“What’re you watching?” Sam asks. The TV’s on, the volume barely above a whisper. He kicks off his shoes, his feet now bare on the concrete.

“I’ve been rewatching Arrested Development.”

“Oh, yeah? Again?”

They first watched it together years ago, when Castiel started spending his evenings in Sam’s room. He rewatches it sometimes on his own. Even after all these times, it still eludes him.

“The humor puzzles me.”

“Yeah. I can see it being hard to take in.” The remark could come off as condescending, but it doesn’t. Sam is trying to understand where Cas is coming from.

As Sam begins brushing his teeth at the sink, Castiel pauses the show. Sam has his back to Cas, and his eyes are focused on the porcelain below. He doesn’t own a pajama set — he always just puts on sweatpants and an old t-shirt for bed.

Sometimes, it seems like Sam is more weathered every time he comes into Castiel’s consciousness. He’s very different from the young man Castiel met not so long ago — a dull translucent rock, from what was once a sharp-edged fragment of a glass bottle.

Castiel hasn’t spent much time thinking about the effects of underground living on human morale. He imagines it can’t be too good, living in a bunker without windows like Sam and Dean do. Troglobites are hardly the most vibrant lifeforms. Human societies, if they can help it, do not choose this environment for themselves. If he tried, Castiel could surely find a podcast episode available about the subject — something about miners maybe, and their getting hopelessly stuck in a shaft somewhere. But that wouldn’t help. That’s nothing like Sam’s situation at all.

“Do you want to finish the, uh, documentary series?” he asks. They started that one a few nights ago. These past two, Sam shook his head no when Cas asked him, saying he was too tired. He’s about to do the same, but seems to think better of it.

“Yeah, sure.” They have three episodes left. They can get through at least one tonight.

Usually, Castiel lays on top of the bed, postured impeccably, while Sam slouches underneath the covers. This time, Sam holds up the sheets for longer than usual after he gets in, as an invitation. So. Castiel tucks his legs alongside Sam. The bed is a double — not exactly meant for two men’s size — so their physical closeness is pure happenstance. Sam’s head resting on his upper arm, as it is right now, is the most they ever touch.

“Play it,” Sam says. He gestures vaguely to the remote in Castiel’s hand.

The series exposes an unsolved string of murder, the botched investigation, and the cover-up around it. It’s quite harrowing. Castiel is always amazed at how Sam will relax by listening to the most gruesome stories. Often, he’ll fall asleep to episode collections of Forensic Files. Castiel will turn it off for him, once he’s out.

At the end of the episode, Sam is already almost asleep, his lids heavy .

“Sam, you should go to sleep,” Castiel tells him, prying him off his side.

Sam nods, yawns again. Castiel turns off the TV, then hands Sam the remote so he can put it on his side of the bed.

As he turns to lay back down, Sam stops for a moment, resting on his elbow, turned towards his friend. “Hey, Cas,” he murmurs. His eyes are quiet and waiting, in the dim light. “You know, uh. I really like it when you spend the night with me, you know that?”

Castiel doesn’t know that. Sam’s never said that, not in so many words. It’s just something they’ve been doing. It’s nice to have this time just for themselves, to do things that aren’t related to killing anyone.

“I like spending my nights here, too,” Castiel replies. He means it. “Do you want the light on or off?”

“On is fine, thanks. Night, Cas.”

“Alright.”

He usually says that, as a courtesy, if Castiel doesn’t keep watching TV after he’s gone to sleep. Cas can see just as well in the dark, after all  — he’s not constrained by the visible light spectrum.

Castiel picks up the book by his bedside. Sam lent it to him, after he said he was looking for a novel to read. It’s a quiet activity that passes the time at night, so he can stay beside Sam without bothering his sleep. Sam’s copy is the English version of the novel, translated from Kikuyu by the author himself. If he wanted to, Castiel could easily read the original. Human languages are all more or less one and the same, or so he’s observed for himself. He thinks about the myriad of dead languages Sam can decipher, and the countless living ones he’ll never understand. Maybe it’s about picking his battles. Kikuyu would come in handy less often than Latin or Aramaic in his line of work.

In any case. Castiel hasn’t considered seeking out the original in any serious way. He likes the idea of reading from Sam’s copy, dog-earing the pages along the same creases, seeing which passages he underlined.

Castiel leans back against the headboard. His foot rests somewhere along Sam’s shin.

This is a nice moment. He likes living it.

Almost unnoticeably, the world around Castiel dims.

A blip brings him back. He collects his presence. He checks on Sam sleeping beside him, and the weight of the room. It all feels odd — like he’s just an inch aside from himself.

Just now, Castiel felt as though he was falling backwards, although his body remained upright, solid. Like he was caught over the eyes by shadowy hands and yanked backwards, speeding through sludge, caving into the outline of himself. It reminded him of when he was human, and hadn’t eaten enough.

He’s not human, however. His body can’t get weak from skipping meals. He has no use for food.

To his right, Sam is already asleep. His pretty head is turned towards Castiel, his hair spread on the pillow. Castiel will have to be more careful. Every time, the dimness lasts longer, becomes darker.

Castiel stares at the pages in his hands. “Good night, Sam,” he says.

[stardustskz]

Smile, For it Suits You

Title: Smile, for it suits you

Word count: 3.1k

Genre: best friends au, fluff, holiday au

Warnings: alcohol, drinking, sickness, typo errors (lmk of there are more)

Member: jeongin

Description: the four times Yang Jeongin ruined your new year’s and the one time you ruined his’

Notes: dedicated to @jeonginks for @districtninewriters ‘s winter exchange fic. first of all, i’m so sorry for it’s late. i was wondering on whether posting it on new year’s eve or on the morning of january 1st but thought of doing the latter. happy holidays eiko! i hope you had a blast holiday and i hope that you’ll like this one, i tried putting as much into it! 

ps. i forgot if there are any word count limit, i’m so sorry if there are

pps. i’m so b=nervous posting this idk why

i.

There’s this superstitious belief that has been going on every January 1st and you neither disagree or agree with it. Okay, scratch that… you are sensitive about it. Ever since your grandmother told your eight year old mind about it, you always made sure to make your first days of every year perfect. 

The following year, you were cautious of your entire January 1st as your parents took you out to the local theme park to celebrate the new year. The day went well with the self reminders that your young mind whispers every time you were about to lose your composure due to the small things that irk you. You went to every extreme ride that you like– perks of having the height to fool the staff for your age. You even won plushies multiple times from the crane machine and the huge human-sized bear that your father got you as a prize in that one fishing game. 

Night time was fast approaching when you decided to have an ice cream without your parents' assistance. Because you were in the age of bragging about how independent you've become seeing to it that you’ll be adding a number to your age in the following months. It was successful! You bought your chocolate coated vanilla ice cream after telling the vendor to have a happy new year. You’re on your way back to where your parents sat on a bench when you saw a boy running fast towards your direction. Your first instinct was to move away from his pathway but it seems that your mind and body forgot how to process your intentions as you fell on your butt, causing your ice cream to fall on the ground as well as stain the lower part of your favorite jacket.  

"Hey!" you called out to the boy who was now about a meter away from you. Your calm and optimism for that day gone. Because he didn’t even apologize or bother to stop from his tracks. 

The boy came to a halt from his frantic running, turned around, and yelled back,

"I'm sorry! But I'm really in a hurry!" he then looked at you apologetically then continued running to god knows where. And oh boy, you were so annoyed as he turned out to be Yang Jeongin from your class. Your everyone-loves-and-adores-him classmate. Everyone falls for his stupid cheeky smile and almost everyone in your class has a huge crush on him. Which is you think, stupid, you were all in fourth grade, how does one know who to like? After that incident your day went sliding downwards, from getting scolded by your parents for ruining your white shirt to losing your favorite hanky from riding the Vikings and you only have one person to blame and it was and still is, Yang Jeongin.

ii.

Quite opposite from your dislike towards Yang Jeongin, you gained the ‘honor’ to be his best friend during 7th grade. It just��� happened. When Han Jisung decided to be a dear who made you audition, forcefully, for your school’s theatre club, it so happened that Jeongin was a part of it too. 

Now, during your junior year in high school, you were currently in one of your senior Minho’s parties before the new year. You were in the middle of talking to Jisung and Jeongin when you felt your surroundings started to spin, 

"Hey, I'll just use the bathroom for a bit" you said, excusing yourself from all the talking. You don’t have a clue why you’re feeling nauseous when you only had a cup or two of what seems to be a soda, well, it tastes like it.

"You okay?" Jeongin asked, his tone laced with concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine" you replied, starting your way to where the comfort room was. It was when you started throwing out all the contents of your stomach when you felt a hand on your back, patting it in a calming manner while their other hand puts away the stray strands of your hair from your face. 

"Is this what you call fine? I thought you won’t drink tonight?" he jokingly said, chuckling a bit by your earlier tough act.

"Well, yeah I also thought I wouldn’t." you rolled your eyes at him through the mirror by the sink after you gargled with water. Maybe it wasn’t just a soda after all. You glanced at the door, furrowing your brows when you noticed that it was closed. 

"You closed the door?" you asked him.

"Yeah? I did?" he said innocently.

"There's a reason I left it open dumbass" you said, trying to call out for help but of course people wouldn't hear you due to the loud, obnoxious music blasting by the speakers in the living room, you even heard people shouting. 

"Oh… I didn't see the sign?" Jeongin said, a bit unsure of himself. Truthfully, he doesn't remember seeing it but he may have forgotten that Jisung told him something about not closing a door because the lock was not working well. Maybe this is the door he was talking about. Jeongin pondered.

It was dreadfully silent, but it was a comfortable one, with you frustrated of how the fuck are you both gonna get out before the countdown. You left your purse with Jisung containing both your phones. There’s no way you’ll be able to get out unless Jisung remembers the absence of your presence and he probably won’t do that until after the countdown. Because Jisung tends to get overly excited about fireworks that he’ll forget that you and Jeongin aren’t back yet.

"5 minutes until the countdown, are we really spending our new year here?" you asked, a bit sad to miss the fireworks display and spend your first minutes of the new year inside a bathroom. What a way to start the year.

"I’m sorry, we’re stuck here" Jeongin said, cautious of whether you’re mad or not. You went closer to where Jeongin sat inside the bathtub, planning to sit beside him.

“I’m not mad, just… annoyed?” You said, sitting beside him and laying your head on his shoulder, maybe it was the alcohol or how comfortable you were around your best friend but you soon drifted to a deep slumber after hearing the fireworks explode outside, remembering to greet Jeongin a “Happy New Year, Jeongin” before completely shutting down.

And if Jisung said something about you getting locked last year in Minho's bathroom and only managing to get out the following year, as if it’s a good joke, you definitely punched him for it.

iii.

The news of Jeongin and his family moving to your neighborhood the following year surprised you. Of course you were ecstatic about it, even more when you saw their moving truck beside your house. You were about to be neighbors! Ever since then, you’ve been spending most of your time with Jeongin, more than what you both used to, your moms also got a lot closer. Which is why they decided to celebrate New Year’s Eve with both families. 

A few hours before the countdown, you decided to hide away in your room, deciding to sleep before the clock strikes 12 because you sure are exhausted by all the preparations. You were lying in your bed with your feet dangling at the bottom, the happenings from earlier that day flashing in your mind. You heard the door to your room opened but you didn’t even bother to look at who it is. 

“Everyone’s looking for you” Jeongin’s familiar voice said. He went closer to your figure only to see that you have your eyes closed, he thought that you’re already asleep,

“I’m tired, let me sleep for a while.” you said, eyes still closed. You tapped the space beside you signaling for him to sit there if he wants. However, Jeongin chose to lie down beside you. And you never opposed it. 

“Wake me up before the countdown.” you said, tiredness completely settling in your system, the hazy figures in your mind beginning to be more vivid as your dream completely took over your consciousness.

Jeongin rolled his eyes at your command, but he will anyway. Turning on his side, his sharp looking gaze softened as his eyes landed on you. He carefully watched how your eyes are now closed, with your lashes curled adorably. You look like an angel whenever you’re sleeping. You were never this peaceful looking when you’re awake because you're the type to furrow your brows more than smile on a daily basis. But right now, your brows are not furrowed even in the slightest bit and the corners of your lips are lightly pointing upwards, a sign that maybe, you’re having a good dream. It continued like this when Jeongin realized that he’s also falling asleep, and even falling harder, as he kissed the night with a goodbye as well.

You both completely missed the countdown but it wasn’t like you were mad about it. When you woke up the next morning, with your best friend still beside you, you figured it was a shame to not witness the fireworks display for two years in a row but you had a great time with finally sleeping for more than eight hours. 

Despite that, yes, you still blame Jeongin.

iv.

It was the first time that you’ll be spending your new year in a different place than your own home. You were already in your third year in college and your group of friends decided to spend your new year at a vacation house near the provinces of your country. Of course, your parents only allowed you to go if Jeongin would be there and thank god you both are in the same circle of friends. 

The original plan was to go together as a group and ride Chan’s van all throughout your three day escapade. However, you have to attend a family gathering in the morning of December 31st, which was the reason why you were left with Jeongin and his truck. You had everything prepared, from the music for the road trip to the snacks that you two bought from your shopping two days prior. And the only thing left is the long journey. Your friends already arrived at the destination by the time you and Jeongin left your place. You were both jamming to different genres of songs, with you feeding Jeongin a chip or two from time to time,

“You can sleep, you know, we still have a long way.” Jeongin said, glancing at you as you yawn from the passenger’s seat. 

“No, no. I can’t leave you for yourself. You can also get sleepy anytime soon.” You said, cautious of possible incidents that may occur. 

“Suit yourself y/n” He said, as you blasted an even livelier song on his radio. 

You were both listening to ‘Wannabe’ with Jeongin doing the shoulder dance and his eyes almost disappearing due to all the smiling and singing when the car slowed down in a not so good manner, as you think.

“What’s happening?” you asked him, maybe panicking for a bit because you were both currently in the middle of nowhere and the sun was already setting. 

“I don’t exactly know,” Jeongin said, his bright smile no longer visible as he stared down on the steering wheel, wondering what the fuck is wrong with his truck. 

“It won’t start.” he said, after a few attempts of once again turning on the car’s engine.

“I should go find help somewhere nearby.” you said, because clearly, your phone’s signal isn’t working as well. 

“No, we should go together, it’s dangerous,” he said preparing to get off the car as well

“Help me push the car to the side of the road first.” he added, then you both worked on it. 

After grabbing all your important belongings, you both started walking forward, continuing the path of the road in hopes of seeing a gas station or an apparel or something.

“I feel like I brought upon misfortune with you whenever we celebrate the new year together.” Jeongin said, probably blaming himself for what just happened.

“It’s not like we can control everything that’s happening around us.” you replied, looking at Jeongin’s sullen expression. 

“Hey! Don’t frown, you look like someone who’ll eat me up alive” you told him. Well, he’s not particularly frowning but Jeongin’s scary whenever he’s not smiling. You noticed the sky slowly get dark and you managed to get sight of something bright at the road ahead.

“Still, I’m sorry this happened, y/n.” he said, coming to a stop only to lock his gaze on yours to sincerely apologize. 

“Stop apologizing dumbass, look I can see something ahead.” you said, mirroring his gaze and smiling as brightly as you can. Jeongin has been your support ever since you two have been attached to the hip. His bright personality is so much of a contrast to your snarly, hostile and strong attitude. And he brightens up your day almost everyday even though he can also annoy the hell out of you. But still, you can’t bring yourself to hate or get mad at him. Because a single smile from Jeongin, all your irritations and annoyance will surely melt away. It just does. The moment Jeongin smiled at you, with his cheeky grin that managed to show his dimples, as a reply, and nodded in agreement and determination, to walk towards where you were pointing out, all your worries for that night went away. Together with your belief that all new years are supposed to be spent in a perfect manner. Because this time, although you spent your new year by the parking lot of the gas station that you both found, you don’t blame Jeongin for all the things that went wrong in that specific year. And at the very least, you get to spend it with the person you cherish the most.

v.

“Why did you decide to spend your January 1st with me dumbass” you asked him, as you opened the door to your dorm, thanking your roommate who went home for the holidays. 

“Well, my also, ‘dumbass’ best friend stayed at the dorms for the holidays and worked themselves up because of finals and now they can’t go home due to a very high fever.” he rambled. You finally let him in because you can already feel your limbs giving up on you. 

“Look! You can’t even stand up on your own!” Jeongin scolded, wrapping his arm around you while he escorted you back to your bedroom. He managed to tuck you in your bed and placed a cooling pad on your forehead before he quickly left for the kitchen, without saying a word. Minutes later, he came back with a bowl of porridge in between his hands.

“You can cook?” you teased.

“Eat.” he said, his expression was serious so you had no choice than to immediately oblige on his command, yes, he was mad and you are kinda scared of this type of Jeongin. You quickly finished it and took the medicine that he gave.

“Do you not have any other plans today?” you asked him, your voice almost a whisper.

“Someone ruined my original plans for me.” he said with his tone a bit more harsh than usual. 

“If that someone was me then I don’t need you here.” you said, irritated by his tone, you turned around to face the other side of your bed in order to avoid seeing him. Jeongin must have figured out that you’re mad at him, due to the change of your tone. He took a deep sigh,

“It’s not like that,” he started.

“I already warned you a week ago about overworking yourself and look where it brought you!” he said, his voice now more calm than before,

“And check your phone please.” he added. Your phone? You haven’t checked your phone since last night due to this stupid fever and apparently- Oh. There are multiple calls and texts from him. 

“I asked auntie regarding your whereabouts and I knew from her that you’re down with fever because I thought you went home yesterday morning, to make it in time for new year’s eve.” Jeongin said, you turned around again with your guilt forming because you forgot to tell him.

“I was worried, y/n. I prepared something for you last night, we were supposed to-” you cut him off,

“I’m sorry, I forgot to tell you,” you said, trying to find his gaze,

“Are you mad?” you asked, taking his hand that was resting on his sides.

“N-no, I’m not. I just-” he took another sigh, “I was just so worried, we can continue whatever road trip I prepared for us anytime this year just please don’t disappear on me again.” he said, more like, begged as he held your hand between his’. 

“Okay,” you said, reaching out to ruffle his hair.

“I won’t do it again, now please smile?” you asked, hoping for him to please just smile again.

Because did he just see you act cute in front of him? Apparently, yes.

“Oh my god okay!” he said and laughed out loud.

“Don’t do that again, this is why I’m the cute one between us!” he said, holding his abdomen for his dear life from laughing too much. You frowned. But this is better. 

“I’m sorry for ruining your first day of the year.” you said, because he wouldn’t be able to go out as he chose to take care of you.

“It’s fine, I intended to spend it with you in the first place” he said, still recovering from the good laugh that he just experienced.

“Wait, so you’re supposed to take me to star gazing?!” you asked, your eyes widening in surprise.

“Yeah? I’m sure my truck won’t fail me this time but you did.” he said, you’ve been bothering him about this request of yours since last year due to his car ruining new year for the both of you. 

“Hey! You already forgave me for that!” Jeongin only laughed and told you to go rest and sleep already. At first, you refused to, but you remembered that you’re still down with a fever and your body gave up on you already. But that day, you fell asleep with a smile on your face. All these time, from the previous years that you had until now, you were searching for perfection for all your first days of the year. However what or rather, who you really need is someone that would stay with you no matter how much misfortune you get. And gladly, you have a dumbass of a best friend for that. 

[snowydaffodils]

Flustered

3501 words | 2nd Person POV

A Yoon Jeonghan fluff, prompt, how you met, how you (hinted) eventually dated, where you're an actress and he's the other lead actor. Enjoy your new years! 🎉

---

Yoon Jeonghan is very rarely flustered. If anything, he's usually the cause of all the flustering - twelve boys can back you up on that. He'd make fun of your height, poke your cheeks, comment cutesy compliments as you work together, flirt playfully, and make fun of how stupid your character sounds.

Indeed, you accepted this role fully aware of the awfully pure and slow-witted character the scriptwriter had written down. Throughout your years in acting, even if this was your very first lead role, you had never gone easy on the rest of the roles you had received. You live and understand them, think like them, and every single character you've performed have now become a part of you. But of course, the closest character to you now is this easily distracted girl who just blushes all the time.

So for the course of eight months, you've acted with all your might, and this is the you that Jeonghan knew. You weren't exactly innocent and slow-witted just like the character, but a bit of the character influenced your own personal traits. The fun to tease, cute, and adorably likable girl. Just like you, it was his first lead role in a drama, and the first one in Seventeen to land on one, too, even if he wasn't the first one to be in one. He had curiously accepted a side role before, right after his military release, and just as the group were exploring their own careers whilst waiting to reunite again as a whole. That side role, with the help of his previous acting lessons, drowned him into the world of acting once more, and he fell in love with the art of the screen more than he ever did before.

Your first impression on him during the first cast meeting was that he looked heavenly. It was like his cheekbones were sculpted to perfection and no one could tell you otherwise. You were incredibly starstruck and in awe that you stuttered in making your first introductions. It didn't help that he was smooth with his words, too, making you sound incredibly nervous as opposed to him.

"Hi, I'm Jeonghan from Seventeen, and I'll be taking the lead role in this drama. Please take care of me."

"Hi, I'm play, uh, playing the lead gull, I mean g-girl."

Had he smiled politely and continued the conversation like nothing had happened, maybe you wouldn't have been too embarrassed, but also maybe you wouldn't have let your guards down to know and befriend him personally. Instead, he had laughed at you with all the stomach power he had. He never lets you forget that you stuttered so badly as you introduced yourself for the first time the entire day. He even made his own reasons (you wouldn't admit them, but they couldn't have been more true) as to why you stuttered.

"Nervous? I'm super charming, aren't I?" his ego is surely out of bounds as he said that, a smirk donning his lips. "I know, I'm surprised at myself, too sometimes."

You hit him on the arm, your cheeks growing in color. "I'm a big fan of Seventeen, but I didn't realize that you're this cheeky."

He laughed, so genuinely and purely, and you smiled, already warmed up to him. He made friends with you quickly, and from all the behind the scenes footage, he was quick to melt his awkward-i-just-met-you exterior and interacted with you as he would with his members. Jeonghan was this tall, built, and handsome man, and he owned unreal facial features that made everyone wonder if he was indeed human just like everyone else. He was perfect for his role: the cold, sly, and dominating lead in the series. It was the complete opposite of your character, and with his friendliness, it was easy for you to quickly build up chemistry and work well with him, but as you two get closer, the more playful he became.

"You're the love of my life," he recited his lines, cheesy as it is, to which you became shy to and shrank as he got closer and closed his lips to yours.

He was quick to tease your blushes after the director's "Cut!" in each kissing scene, and would tease you easily at other romantic or heart fluttering scenes you had to do.

"Aww, that's cute, you're blushing again! I can hear your heart fluttering," he would say. "Then again, I am charming."

And in each time, you were always caught in his trap, stuck in the moment, and your heart follows his lead, ignoring all the other self-restraining signals your head was screaming about. He'd laugh right after he got a reaction out of you, and the grin he'd give you would linger in your head for the rest of the day.

There was another day when one of his members - Joshua - came to support as a cameo, and it felt like Jeonghan was on booster or something. He introduced you to Joshua, who was sweet, polite, and a perfect gentleman, but then Jeonghan continued to tease you the entire day Joshua was there. He made sure to remind Joshua how cute you were so many times throughout the day. At that point you were actually getting used to Jeonghan's antics, but him teasing you in front of a new person puts you on another level of flustered.

"Hey Josh, meet the love of my life," Jeonghan said, using his scripted lines.

Joshua, while he was nicer than Jeonghan, still played along sometimes. "Then I'll call you member-in-law!" He said.

Your birthday was on a filming day, and he managed to fool you to think that you had hurt his feelings by giving him comments on his acting as per usual (you were sure you weren't saying anything bad, but he kept directing it to be a negative one). He started showing acts of distaste and, at one point, even yelled at you and left the room.

It was heart-wrenching to watch him leave - you never wanted to hurt his feelings, you just wanted to help and support him and the drama entirely. Guilt washed over you quickly, and tears piled in your eyes. The crew was looking at you so judgmentally, and all you wanted to do was go home, lock the doors, and hide under your covers. You didn't know what to do, and some of the crew even went to you to convince you that he just needed to blow off steam and he'll be back and you can apologize when he gets back.

You wanted to scream and rip his hair off when he came back with a cake, singing Happy Birthday like nothing happened. Your tears flowed like a river though, because you genuinely thought that Yoon Jeonghan, this man, was actually angry at you to the point that he put it to display to everyone who was present and even yelled at you.

"Don't cry!" he laughed at you, taking the cream from the cake and swiping your cheeks with his finger. "You'll look ugly. We have to take a picture with this cake!"

You cursed at him for the first time since you've known him, but he only chuckled and patted your back to calm down your sniffles (you glared at his finger until he wiped the cream away first, though). He gave you a friendly hug and you hit him to prove the point that you were upset, and it was a loud slap in the back that everyone was surprised but laughed at. Apparently, a behind-the-scenes camera was on and recording the entire surprise; Jeonghan remembered this and went to the camera to tell on you. He complained really loudly, "Carats, she hit me!" he pointed at you playfully.

You were still sniffling, snots everywhere and you eyes still bawling with tears. "Y-you deserve it!" you screamed.

On the last day of filming, you had laughed everything off, remembering everything that happened during the course of filming and engraving every memory to your heart. It was surely an indescribable experience. The crew had been super nice, and they felt like a second family to you. The cast members became your best friends, including the one and only Yoon Jeonghan. You thanked Jeonghan, the rest of the cast, and the entire crew for all their hard work, hugged your co-stars tightly, and told Jeonghan to stay in contact with you even after it all ended because you'd miss him.

"Hey, but don't be a stranger," you told him. "I think I'm too used to having you around, its gonna be hard to live peacefully, now."

He smiled, pinched your cheeks and said, "Did you think I'm gonna stop just because the drama ended? You should've seen me annoy my members even from the military base."

You rolled your eyes at him, "I wouldn't dare to assume you'd do anything less."

And he kept to his word. Though there hadn't been any opportunities for both of you to meet each other again (variety shows and interview promotions were done during the course of filming), he still contacts you day-to-day, even if only to send a meme he found of you and laugh at you through text.

"You really DO look like you've got a frog in your mouth! Hahahaha!"

This went on through the rest of the year until the Award Shows started to busy every single celebrity available, finally announcing the invites, MCs, performances, and nominees to each award they have. Your drama with Jeonghan had hit it big as fans were so happy to watch both of you interact (also, maybe because Woozi sang the main OST, and Scoups' rap on the OST was fire), and you were invited to almost every single one of them as a nominee for multiple awards.

It was first assumed, then implied, but it was also because he was actually sweet enough to ask you personally, that you were officially his date to every one of the award shows your drama was nominated in. You agreed, not because he was your co-star, but because he was a genuinely nice and fun person to spend time with. You were also very excited, not just because you were nominated, but also because this time you were going to finally present your original and true self to Yoon Jeonghan and the world. The other characters within you screamed in delight as you excitement rose, and you had planned everything out, determined to show that you are not just a simple easily teased girl that Yoon Jeonghan bullies on.

On the very first show you wore a white gown - the top part was gold glitter with a heart neckline, and it corseted your figure, highlighting all the important curves in your body. Down your dress, the fabric flowed in an A-line skirt, transparency growing in a gradient as it reached the bottom, your strapped golden heels visible within your skirt. You put your half your hair into a braid and curled the rest. With curtain-like gold earrings and white diamonds shining out of the strands, Jeonghan was stunned when he saw you for the first time. Your make up was different from what he was used to, and a mature-like pureness aura radiates from you. He didn't know what to say, muted to say the least. He had never seen you like that, and once both of you reached the red carpet, his hand on your back as a gentlemanly support to guide you through the reporters, he noticed how straight you walked, and how you carried yourself so gracefully. The reporters were asking questions, but he left the answering to you as he continued to stay stunned through the red carpet. It was only when you both had finally taken your seats when he finally relaxed and converse normally again.

The minimum movements you emitted, just enough to be polite and to please your audience were not missed by the man, and he observed the details of your interactions to the utmost adoration. Your gracefulness had struck a chord in his heart and he was awed to say the least.

He ended the night with a shy smile and an "Oh, and by the way, you were absolutely beautiful tonight." The sincerity of his tone didn't go unnoticed and you didn't forget to thank him before going separate ways. It was oddly out of character of him to do, but you liked the new side of him you have yet to explore.

The next show, you opted for a bright red designer's gown. This one, fitting to its price tag, created this absolutely stunning silhouette, and while it did not sparkle or glitter, its muted red still create a distinction of you and made you shine. The designed folds in your dress accented your figure even more, and with a looser fabric, the skirt of your dress was made longer so it could trail behind you as you walk. Your hair was gathered up into one straight ponytail, a pretty simple hairdo to gather attention to your striking gown for the night.

Jeonghan didn't recognize you when he first was led to your changing room. You didn't just look like a different person, you feel like one, too. He didn't even realize that he held his breath as he looked at you. The stylist were so proud of their efforts and Jeonghan's reaction had them giggling and teasing him. "She's incredibly beautiful, isn't she?"

He barely managed a "yes" before you could chuckle and said to him, "Well look who's being shy, now."

At this, he returned a laughter of his own. He didn't bother hiding his surprised expression. "You got me. You look incredible."

Your outfit and style of the day, added with your elegance and poise as you conducted yourself in front of the reporters and other celebrities had Jeonghan staring at you for a while, and quite numerous whiles. He absolutely adored you. There was a surging feeling of wholesome pride as he stood beside you, his hand on your back as he escorted you through the venue. Even as he teased you as he answered the reporters' questions, you had retained your poise as you held it within yourself not to be flustered easily by this man. You had a year worth of practice for that.

"Isn't she beautiful? I'm such a fan of hers," Jeonghan whispered to the reporters, his playful grins and chuckles evident as he interacted happily. "She doesn't look like her character now, does she?"

You chuckled along with him, but dragged him to stop him from acting like a fan on the red carpet. He laughed and after a few tries of refusing your urges to move on, eventually let it go and allowed you to pull him forwards. As you moved on, he placed his hand on your back just like how he usually does, as a sign that he was right there walking with you.

The third time though, Jeonghan was speechless. He barely spoke through the course of the night, and his eyes never left you.

You wore a black designer's gown this time, with sequinned patterned Qs coming from your neck down to your knees before the skirt spreads out to hide your silver heels. It was a mermaid gown and it hugged your figure nicely. The skirt was actually more flowy that you thought, but it added a nice touch. You wore silver earrings and diamond hair pieces as you put your hair up in the most elegant updo Jeonghan had ever seen. He was already stunned when he saw you for the first time, but he almost choked when you turned around only for him to realize that your gown was completely backless.

Now, where is he supposed to place his hand again?

His face was flushed and when you turned to finally go out the door, you see his face filled with more red than you've ever seen. While his face was kind of salvaged by the foundation he used, the makeup couldn't help his neck from turning red as well.

"Yoon Jeonghan, are you sick?" you asked aloud, gaining the attention of all staff members present, all their eyes pointed at the man in question. "Or are you actually blushing?"

Your second question snapped him out of his haze (and had many of the stylists and make up artists giggling) as he looked at you for a few seconds, and you were starting to actually worry, before he eventually puts his hand on his forehead, covering his face.

"God, you'll be the death of me. Let's go before I embarrass myself any further."

He was indeed blushing, and his statement confirmed that for you. You laughed, but you can't help but feel you cheeks tinting a little pink from his confession. He linked your arm with his and went out together.

The first few minutes into the red carpet, Jeonghan did his best not to have direct contact with your back. He was blushing the entire time, had to ask the interviewers to repeat themselves a couple of times, and his hand was going to unsure places like your shoulder or your waist, which he was also not confident about, and eventually just lingers a few inches away from your back, like in mid-air. The so-called manner hands.

It wasn't as reassuring as having his hand on your back like the previous times you both had gone through this. His focus was also off as he tried to avoid the contact, and just moved his hand when you moved as well. You sighed and just pulled his hand to slightly slap your back, and you pointed a look at Jeonghan's direction, telling him to stop fidgeting through your eyes.

He blushed.

"Jeonghan, are you not feeling well?" one of the reporters asked.

He seemed to click then and there. His honest self couldn't help himself as he answered, "Oh yeah, she just looks gorgeous tonight, I can't take my eyes off of her."

When he finally comprehended his own words, he fumbled and stuttered. "I-I mean," he tried to reason, but the stars in the reporters' eyes were showing that they heard everything he said, and some of them squealed in delight.

"Why, thank you," you turned to face him, your smile directed for him.

He was stunned - again.

"Oh, let's just go," he said shyly, one of his hands reaching to his neck to feel just how warm he had gotten.

That night, both of you had received a daesang award, but Jeonghan kind of added a few more elements to his acceptance speech.

"Hi, this is Seventeen's Jeonghan. This acting experience was truly incredible and there's so many people who should know that they are the reason for this award. I want to thank Carats, who have always been there for me through thick and thin, and my members who have been watching and supporting me, especially to Joshua who became a cameo, my parents and my family members who had been with me from the very start, the staff members, Pledis, directors, pd-nim, and all the crew members. This is not possible without any of you. And special thanks to," Jeonghan moved his eyes on you, and he didn't know why then and there, your name disappeared from his head and instead replaced with that one line that had caught all the viewers' heart as they watched the drama.

"The love of my life - " he stopped when he realized what he just said, and realized he had kind of just confessed on national TV. "I mean, M-my co-star."

You stood there surprised at how flustered Yoon Jeonghan could be, and stunned that you were the main reason that he was fumbling on the stage and his ears redder than ever. He caught himself before he did anything else and finished his speech nicely.

"Anyways, uh, thank you for this award, I'll work even harder to be a better actor and come back with more for you all. Thankyou!"

It was your turn after him to deliver your speech, and suddenly the trophy on your hands became heavier than it actually was. Jeonghan turned his back to walk back to the spot beside you as you move forward, and you can see a small smile tugging the corners of his lips. When you were brushing against each other before you took the mic, he whispered, just loud for you to hear, and short enough to go unnoticed.

"Yes, that was my confession to you. Will you go out with me?"

All eyes were on you and all lights were on you when you felt like you bit your tongue and couldn't speak.

The MCs were waiting for your speech, and nudged you to start when you seem lost.

"Ah, yes, I mean, no, I mean yes!"

Yoon Jeonghan really knows how to fluster you, even in his most flustering moments.

---

[all-seeing-ifer]

Greek mythology references in Ulysses Dies at Dawn masterpost

I saw a post a while back by @spacetrashpile analysing all the arthurian references in High Noon Over Camelot, and since I know quite a bit about Greek mythology I figured “hey! I should do something like that for Ulysses Dies at Dawn!” I’m just going to go through each of the songs in order and analyse/explain the references in them - hopefully other people will find it interesting!

“The City”

Starting with the title - Ulysses is the Latin name of Odysseus, legendary king of Ithaca and hero of the epic poem The Odyssey. Interestingly, Ulysses is the only character in UDAD who is given a Latin name instead of a Greek one. There’s a couple of potential reasons for this but the most convincing to me is it’s meant to reflect Ulysses’ opposition to the Olympians, who are all based on the Greek gods.

Jonny calls the story a “labyrinthine task of a twisted tale”, referencing the Greek myth of the Minotaur, which was kept in a labyrinth to hide it from the world. This reference becomes even clearer when we later learn the City’s original name.

This one’s less a reference to Greek mythology and more to like, actual history, but the description of the City expanding to cover the whole planet is reminiscent of Greek expansion in ancient times. Ancient Greece was made up of many city-states, or poleis, which established colonies or “daughter-cities”, mostly in western Asia, or “Asia Minor” as the Greeks and Romans called it.

The story opens at a “run-down gin join” called Calypso’s - Calypso is a sea nymph who plays a fairly major role in The Odyssey, keeping Odysseus/Ulysses trapped on her island for seven years.

Fittingly enough, Calypso’s apparently pays money to Dionysus, whose mythological namesake is the Greek god of wine.

Broken Horses

Ilium is the Ancient Greek name for Troy, the city that Greece went to war against, according to myth,. Part of this war is described in the epic poem The Iliad, in which Odysseus is one of the soldiers laying siege to Troy.

Much like the Trojan War of Greek myth, the siege of Ilium is said to have lasted a decade.

Ulysses’ gambit with the horse statue sending out a signal driving the people of Ilium mad is pretty obviously a reference to the Trojan Horse - the wooden horse the Greeks built as a “peace offering” to the Trojans that they used to sneak their soldiers into the City and that brought them victory in the war. Like in the UDAD version, Odysseus/Ulysses was apparently responsible for coming up with this plan.

“Olympians”

Ulysses’ wife is named Penelope, same as Odysseus’ wife in the myths

The Acheron is the name of one of the five rivers of Hades, along with Styx, Cocytus, Lethe, and Phlegethon

As a sidenote, in Greek mythology Hades is the name of the underworld as well as the name of the God of the dead - fittingly enough reimagined in UDAD as the controller of a vast network of half-dead minds (and also Ashes)

The most powerful families in the City are called the Olympians - the name given to the twelve most important deities in the Greek pantheon

Poseidon Industries is named for Poseidon, Greek god of the sea and one of the twelve Olympians. Jonny calls them “one of the architects of the Ilium War”, which seems like an odd reference since iirc Poseidon doesn’t have a whole lot to do with the Trojan War. I guess that’s just there to give Ulysses a reason to want to rob Poseidon Industries.

In the Odyssey, Poseidon hates Odysseus/Ulysses for attacking his son, a cyclops called Polyphemus. In UDAD this is changed to Ulysses stealing the diamond from Poseidon Industries’ laser, which is also called The Cyclops.

My Name is No One

The song’s title and chorus is a reference to Odysseus’ famous trick for escaping the Polyphemus’ cave. He tells the Polyphemus his name is “no one/nobody” (depending on the translation) so that when he attacks Polyphemus and the cyclops tries to call for help, he calls out “No one is attacking me” which obviously none of the other cyclopes take seriously. (There’s also a great pun in the original Greek based on the Greek words for “no one” and “cunning” being very similar, but it loses a lot in translation)

However, just like in UDAD, Odysseus messes up this plan badly by calling out his real name when he’s still too close to the island of the cyclops. (although in the Odyssey it’s motivated by him wanting Polyphemus to know his name so he can get glory, rather than just being drunk)

Odysseus bests the cyclops by taking out his eye (there’s debate around it but cyclopes are generally depicted as having only one eye). Obviously in UDAD the cyclops is a machine not a monster, so this is replaced with the diamond at the heart of the laser being called its “eye”.

Also, I’m not sure if this is an intentional reference, but there is a fun irony to the fact that in the Odyssey, Odysseus tricks Polyphemus by getting him drunk so he can then blind him, while in UDAD Ulysses steals the eye of the Cyclops while drunk themself.

“Trial By Wits”

As well as My Name is No One, the whole concept of no one knowing anything about Ulysses’ appearance, gender etc. could also be seen as a reference to the “My name is nobody” trick, or possibly just a spin on Odysseus being a kind of “archetypal hero” - they could be anyone!

Heracles is better known by his Latin name, Hercules (son of Zeus, demigod, inhumanly strong and all that jazz)!

Ariadne is the name of the Cretan princess who helped Theseus slay the minotaur

Orpheus is another of the most well-known Greek mythological figures - the main myth surrounding him says he went into the underworld to rescue his dead wife Eurydice

Oedipus is most famous as the main character of a famous tragedy. His parents are given a prophecy that he would kill his father and have sex with his mother, and so decided to abandon him. As is so often the case with Greek oracles, he ended up doing both things anyway, seeing as how he, y’know, didn’t know who his parents were. The mechs apparently chose to reference this in the most mature of ways by having Jonny call Oedipus a motherfucker. Kind of a lot.

Aside from committing both patricide and incest, Oedipus’ other achievements in myth included winning a battle of wits against the Sphinx, a monster that was killing anyone who couldn’t solve its riddle. This monster is reimagined in UDAD as a disease that Oedipus finds a cure for.

Riddle of the Sphinx

The chorus of the song is taken almost word-for-word from the riddle asked of Oedipus by the Sphinx: “What goes on four legs in the morning, two legs at noon, and three legs in the evening?” The answer to the riddle is “man” - crawls on all fours as a baby, walks on two legs as an adult, and walks with a cane (third leg) in old age. The Mechs being the Mechs, this is made completely literal in the world of UDAD.

“Ulysses’ Will”

Like the Oedipus of myth, UDAD Oedipus also ends up killing his father and marrying his mother without knowing. Since he’s replaced his eyes with data sockets by the time he helps kidnap Ulysses, it’s pretty strongly implied that he blinded himself like mythological Oedipus as well.

The “twenty years of sirens” could be a reference to the twenty years Odysseus spends away from Ithaca in the Iliad and Odyssey

Sirens

The sirens were half-bird half-human creatures that Odysseus encountered as part of the Odyssey and that tried to lure him to his death with promises of knowledge.

As well as referencing this story, the line “let the lotus set you free” references another episode of the Odyssey, where Odysseus and his crew arrive on the island of the Lotus-Eaters. Anyone who eats the Lotus fruits falls into a state of apathy and will never want to leave the island, so it’s a fitting episode to reference in a song about Ulysses drugging themself to escape their memories of war.

“Trial By Strength”

Heracles’ backstory is essentially the same in UDAD as in the original myths: one of the many children of Zeus’ many affairs, except in UDAD Zeus has affairs with women from “the lower levels”, instead of just mortal women.

Favoured Son

The tasks Heracles performs for Zeus are a reference to the most famous myth about Heracles - the twelve labours he performs to atone for killing his family.

The song references “the ferryman” who takes people into the Underworld. In Greek mythology the dead travel to the Underworld in a boat rowed by the ferryman Charon.

In both the myth and in UDAD there are...what you might you might call “extenuating circumstances” for Heracles killing his family - in the myth he’s driven mad by Zeus’ wife Hera (bc she’s very angy about Zeus having all those bastard children with mortal women) but since Hera doesn’t play a role in UDAD this is changed to him being framed by Zeus himself.

In addition to being king of the gods, Zeus is also the god of thunder - which is where Heracles’ nickname “The Thunderbolt of Zeus” comes from

“Loose Threads”

Heracles and Orpheus “Backing up Jason on the fleece job” is a reference to the myth of Jason’s quest for the Golden Fleece along with his crew (the Argonauts), which included Heracles and Orpheus.

Hylas was Heracles’ servant and another member of the Argonauts. While on the quest he was kidnapped by nymphs, and depending on which version of the myth you’re looking at, either fell in love with them and stayed there forever, or was murdered by them (Hylas is also the only character referenced I had to google to even know who they were lol)

Heracles telling Ariadne that “Your dad helped me out once” is presumably a reference to the seventh labour of Heracles: capturing the Cretan bull. Now the story of the Cretan bull is actually really long and ties into a bunch of other myths but essentially it was sent to Ariadne’s father, King Minos, as proof that he was the rightful ruler of Crete. However, Minos ended up helping Heracles by letting him take the bull with him to prove that he’d successfully caught it (which seeing as the bull was destroying Crete at that point doesn’t seem like a huge favour on Minos’ part, but ok)

Trial By Song

UDAD Orpheus shares the mythical Orpheus’ main defining trait: his skill at singing that he used to help him on his journey to the underworld.

Trial By Song is a lot more metaphorical than all the others so there’s not that many direct references to the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice in the lyrics - probably the most direct one is “But all the landmarks moved as I walked past/Now I can’t look back”, which references Orpheus’ deal with Hades that he can take Eurydice back to the world of the living as long as he doesn’t look back at her.

“The viper town that bled me dry” could also be a reference to Eurydice’s death from a snake bite.

“Hades”

UDAD Orpheus’ motivation is the same as mythical Orpheus - wanting to bring back their dead lover from Hades.

Ulysses, Heracles, and Orpheus all visiting the “underworld” is taken directly from mythology (although unlike in UDAD, Ulysses/Odysseus never actually speaks to Hades).

Underworld Blues

In Heracles’ confrontation with Hades, he says that “I was sent here your dog to seize/Of my tasks, of my tasks/This was to be the last”. There’s a couple of points here - the mythology reference is to the last of the twelve labours of Hercules: capturing Hades’ guard dog Cerberus. However, I do wonder whether this is meant to be literal (in which case guys, why are we not talking about the fact that Ashes obtained a pet dog while in The City?), or if this is a similar case to all the mentions of ‘horses’ in High Noon Over Camelot actually being about motorbikes.

Orpheus singing to Hades and trying to convince them to release Eurydice is also taken directly from Greek myth, except instead of being moved by Orpheus’ song and agreeing to release his love like in the myth, Ashes just tells him he’s poor for a bit and then says he should go commit some crimes.

“Trial By Love”:

The general concept of Ariadne’s backstory - her helping Theseus fight the minotaur only for him to abandon her - is the same basic idea as the myth of Ariadne and Theseus. Although UDAD Ariadne is at least a bit more fortunate in the sense that she wasn’t truly in love with her Theseus, and he also doesn’t straight up leave her on a deserted island.

Ariadne’s family creating the minotaur is also part of her character in the myth. The difference is that in UDAD the minotaur was created intentionally, while the mythological minotaur was the result of Poseidon making Ariadne’s mother fall in love with the Cretan Bull as punishment for King Minos not sacrificing it to him (I said the Cretan Bull story tied into a bunch of other myths!)

The presence of the minotaur in the City is yet another thing that makes even more sense when we learn about the City originally being called Labyrinth!

Ties That Bind

Ariadne’s family name is Minos, same as the name of her mythical father King Minos.

Ariadne describes her family’s actions as casting a “dark horned shadow” over her, which references the typical depiction of the minotaur as a man with a bull’s head and horns.

In the myth of the Minotaur, Ariadne helps Theseus by giving him a ball of string that he then unwinds as he walks through the Labyrinth, letting him find his way out again. In UDAD this is changed to “strings of code”, that shut down the minotaurs programming. (And if you think that pun’s bad, just wait until we get to Torn Suits!)

The song’s title also brings to mind string or thread, so it can be seen as a subtler reference to Ariadne’s gift to Theseus. Same for Ariadne’s line about “heartstrings long since cut”.

“The Daidala”

Daedalus, the leader of the Suits, shares a name with the mythical craftsman and father of Icarus

He is rumoured to “trade as an Olympian under the name Hephaestus” - a fitting alias as Hephaestus was the god of craftsmen and artisans like Daedalus

The rumour that he killed his son for “getting too ambitious” references the myth of Icarus, who famously died after literally flying too close to the sun using wings held together with wax. The heat of the sun caused the wax to melt and Icarus to fall into the sea. The story is often interpreted as a warning about the dangers of ambition.

Interestingly, it could also reference another myth surrounding Daedalus - one in which Daedalus kills his nephew Talos because he was jealous of his achievements.

Daedalus is also apparently the architect of The City, which was originally known as Labyrinth. This once again references the labyrinth which held the minotaur, and which Minos forced Daedalus to design. Considering the labyrinth’s purpose in myth, it seems like an appropriate name for a city that keeps all its inhabitants trapped with no way out.

Presumably the Daidala in the title refers to the City: Daedalus’ finest creation. In Homeric Greek, daidala is a word that refers to finely crafted objects such as armour.

This track also has another reference to the Orpheus and Eurydice myth when Orpehus offers to sacrifice himself to open the vault - “But he can’t see it through can he? Flinches, looks back. And it doesn’t work.”

Torn Suits

This song is notable for having quite possibly the worst pun in Mechanisms history - “Ulysses pulls out their snub-nosed laser and fires the last shot, splitting the beam across twelve axes”. This references one of the climactic scenes of the Odyssey, where Ulysses/Odysseus wins an archery competition against his wife’s suitors by shooting an arrow through twelve axe heads. (get it, axes as in the weapons becomes axes as in the plural of axis do you get it?????)

Another, marginally less bad pun is Heracles getting “the lion’s share” of the beams, referencing the popular image of Heracles wearing the skin of a lion he killed as one of his labours.

“Sunrise”

The code to Ulysses’ vault: Elysium, is another word for the Elysian Fields. In certain Greek religions, this was an afterlife separate from Hades’ world where heroes and those chosen by the gods would go after they died.

Ulysses’ vault is revealed to contain the “sole surviving oak tree”, under which Penelope is buried. While it’s not as direct a reference as some of the others, this is pretty clearly inspired by the way Odysseus proves his true identity to Penelope at the end of the Odyssey - by telling her that he carved their bed from a tree still rooted to the ground, something only the two of them know.

The track ends with an homage to Homer’s use of similes in the Odyssey: “And as the weary hound, once more at its master’s feet after so long, lays down with the sunlight warming its fur, breathing its last – even so did the eyes of Ulysses close forever.” Not only is this stylistically identical to Homer’s similes, it also doubles as a reference to Odysseus’ dog Argos, who waited for him for twenty years and finally died when he saw Odysseus again.

Elysian Fields

This is possibly a bit of a stretch but the image of Ulysses lying beneath the last tree, next to where Penelope is buried, especially with how they say they’re “with my beloved” and “beside my wife” really brings to mind the scene in the Odyssey where Odysseus and Penelope lie in their tree-bed together for the first time since Odysseus’ return. Which, incidentally, is theorised by some to be the “real” final scene of the Odyssey and everything after that was added on later, but that’s another story.

That’s everything I’ve picked up on but it’s possible there’s more I’ve missed so let me know if there’s any more! I’d like to thank the Mechs for giving me an opportunity to put my useless and extremely niche knowledge to good use!

[lovely-necromancy]

A Cure for Insomnia CH 15

////TW Deceptions of canon typical violence and a home invasion near the end////

“Yea so the pizza is not only aesthetically pleasing but pretty fuckin' good too.”you finish your rant on why the two of you should drive out to Point Pleasant some time.

“Not gonna lie it seems more like you want to,” he pops his knuckles, “drag me miles away to sacrifice me to some old god.” the popping gets worse.

Shit, Toby's getting nervous. You probably look pretty sketchy right now considering the fact that you've been suggesting the two of you go out to Point Pleasant for the past thirty-ish minutes. Toby had pulled off to the shoulder lane once Connor's barking started up. Alerting the two of you to his incoming tics. It seemed to be a long episode so you offered to drive off the interstate and on to the side of the road instead. Hoping that maybe the absence of the additional outside stimulants coming from cars driving past you two would calm Toby's tics.

Unfortunately you'd gotten caught up talking about your late night escapades having been taken by the fact that Toby didn't seem to mind. He'd actually understood that restlessness you went on about. And when he asked what was the furthest town you've driven to in one night. You kind of let loose and spilled your guts about the Mothman capital.

For half an hour, on an offshoot of the interstate in the middle of nowhere, he was trapped with no where to run. Of course the poor guy was probably scared of you at this point. He was just indulging you out of fear not out of any genuine interest.

Why couldn't you just read signals properly?

“No!” from his jump you've probably said that way too loudly, “I mean sorry I get carried away – Mothman's cool – the town is a nice tourist trap and I thought you'd think it was cool – but then I just probably just seemed weird to you and now I just....ughr none of that made sense did it?”

“Weeell” he drags out as thought he's thinking on it “nope none.”

Looking at his face you can see his red stained scarred lips pull into a sort of smirk and there's a glint in his eyes. He's being sarcastic, he's making fun of you. He isn't weirded out by you just being yourself and ranting about nothing in particular or running around in circles with a train of thought only  to get confused or baffled by the workings of your own brain.

The smug dick. Letting you spiral while he watched on in amusement. This reeks of Brian, has his fuck boy energy written all over it. You'll just have to spend more time with Toby to make sure the sweet man next to you doesn't turn into a menace to society. Or at least not a menace to you.

“Meanie.” you blow a raspberry in his direction, he returns the gesture albeit a lot messier than he intended. Spit seeps from the gash in his cheek and dribbles down the scarred edge of his lips.

Toby lets out a grunt and looks down at his spit in disgust. Whether that's in himself or just his spit you can't tell. Leaning over the console you pop open the glove box to hand him some emergency napkins you had in there.

“Fuckin' Mary Poppins.” you hear him mutter over you.

Choosing to ignore his teasing and take the high road in this you hand him the napkins and relax back into your seat. Watching him run the napkin up and down his arms trying to get any spit that may have backfired onto him, which was definitely most of it.

“You good?” you ask.

“Uh yea 's just spit no big deal.” it's such a simple statement but you can't help the smile that it brings to your face.

You meant if he'd be good to drive yet since you two had been out here for the better part of an hour now. It was nearly two in the afternoon. Neither of you anticipated the quick slushy run turning into an all day event. And while you wouldn't mind driving around for two more hours or so – you're quickly coming to the end of your battery.

“Meant to drive, dork.”

“Hmm...Yea should be now,” Toby says wadding up the napkins before spinning in the passenger seat towards you and gently flinging the wad of napkins in your face, “and 'm not a dork. You are.”

Returning his spit used napkin to him, tossing it just a tad harsher than he originally had, “You're right you're a brat!”

You exit the car before he can throw it at you again. Though it really doesn't matter when he just pelts you with it from over the hood when you switch seats anyway. Picking the napkin up off the ground you hold on to it and place it in one of the empty slushy containers sitting in your console.

The mature course of action. However, you do poke your tongue out at Toby as you do it. He only rolls his eyes as he huffs out a laugh at you.

Toby hovers over the gear shift waiting for either an alert or one of his tics to rear its head. When neither happens he put the car in drive and you two begin your hour and half drive back to Kepler.

Or would've, had it not been for the traffic you seemed to get stuck in not even five minutes after getting back on the interstate.

“You're fucking kidding me.” Toby says incredulously.

After ten minutes of going nowhere, all the while his leg bouncing was shaking the car, Toby abruptly get out of the car and marches to the passenger door flinging it open.

“You're driving.” is all he says.

You don't think there's any talking him out of it. You're good to drive so that isn't the issue, his abruptness about the situation is what stuns you. Wordlessly you get out of the car and take the wheel. Getting buckled in you see from the corner of your eye Toby grabbing you phone and typing away.

He seems to find what he's looking for as static flows through your stereo. The sponsored ads for the white noise “podcast” start playing before fading back into the never ending static. Your phone is placed back under the radio and Toby reclines his seat all the way.

It's tense for a moment as you wait for something else to happen. Whether it's an outburst or an explanation you aren't sure, the anticipation for anything to happen hangs thick in the car. You keep your focus on the road and traffic in front of you figuring Toby will let you know what's up in his own time.

The sound of shuffling comes from behind you as Connor scoots over to his handler to be of assistance. Only for him to be gently waved off. And he goes back to his spot laying down and honing in on you. Since you are currently driving...even though scooting the car up a few inches in the past twenty minutes shouldn't really qualify as driving. Nevertheless the pup remains vigilant in his work.

It's probably an hour or so before Toby finally speaks, breaking the semi silence he put the car in.

“Traffic jams make me anxious.” he doesn't move from his reclined position, just stares up at the ceiling of your car.

A noncommittal hum comes from the back of your throat. You'd assumed it was something to that nature but didn't want to pry. It must be bad if it was something that made him willingly pass the torch of driving, something that also made him wildly uncomfortable.

“Wanna talk – or do you just need silence.”

The answer came in the form of the silence that followed. It was another long hour and a half before the traffic finally cleared. You weren't even aware so many people could be on the interstate going through West Virginia on a Monday afternoon. Since you were at the tail end of the traffic by the time you got to where you assume it started, by the left over debris in the road and fresh skid marks heading into the median, you really couldn't put together what had gone on.

Your eyes didn't focus in on the leftovers of the accident nor did you slow down like many other vehicles. It's not like you enjoy seeing the wreckage of cars or people being lifted into ambulances but you understand most people give in to that base human curiosity. You just hoped everyone involved was safe and okay.

From your peripheral you catch Toby turning his head to face you every few minutes or so. Disregarding it as a tic you continue on driving. While this accident had cleared you don't doubt the power of stupidity to not influence another reckless driver, who might now be late from traffic, to start weaving in between lanes.

“Are we past it?” comes the quietest voice you've ever heard from Toby.

So stunned by the volume it takes you a minute to register what he'd asked.

“Uh...oh yea. We passed it like fourteen minutes ago?” assuming 'it' had been the crash site, though you hadn't been keeping track of time honestly.

No point when the two of you would be getting back to Kepler after dark anyway. You'd ask Toby if he'd want to grab food before you drop him off at the lodge but his continued silence as he fixes his seat up right clues you in that he might not be up for anything other than turning in for the night. Honestly you're at the point yourself, so you don't really mind the silence driving back.

Just like you thought the two of you got into Kepler a little after eight o'clock. Having been stopped by another accident, this one not lasting nearly as long to get situated, had really taken a toll on Toby's mood though. You could practically feel something eating at him as anxiety radiated off his form.

He didn't offer any clarification for his reactions and you didn't pry. Most times when you get a similar way you find it's easier to just let it run it's course than to try and calm yourself. So you're a little surprised when you reach the lodge and  Toby practically volts out of your car, when he gently taps on your window after he's retrieved Connor from behind you.

“Get home safe.”

Those words hit your ears with a bit more weight than they normally do. Maybe because the day's been full of accidents on the road. Or maybe because of the lack of interaction the two of you have had for the past four hours. Whatever the reason it doesn't change how Toby lingers at your side even after your reply. He finally steps away, once again falling silent, and you're able to drive home after a final farewell to him.

The way Toby reacted today never leaves your mind. While theories and ideas toss around in your head you can feel the bubbling weight in your stomach build as cold sweats break out all over your body. Combating the weight in your stomach is its emptiness. Having only eaten the bowl of cereal today and nothing else has left you on empty since you'd gotten into traffic. However, being so preoccupied with Toby's change in behavior you'd forgone food in favor of getting your friend home as soon as possible.

Pausing when you come to the fork in the road making you choose between going straight home and fighting with cooking a meal or running to the mini mart and grabbing something quick and unhealthy. You normally take a bit to decide, but today it seems your gut is telling you to forgo the food and get home. You can't quite place a finger on what you're feeling – not quite fear or anxiety or even paranoia. All of which would be valid considering how weird your afternoon had been. Instead it feels like a little voice is ever so quietly telling you that you should get home immediately.

The voice pipes up again as soon as you gently shut your car door. It seems to warn you that there is danger near by.

'Fuck' is all you can think about as memories of the evidence of your stalker come into play.

It had been so busy lately that you'd honestly forgotten all about the stalker. Hell your bat was still in your room, so you were fucked if your intuition was right about this. You were at least going to be smart about this and pull up the Cowell's home phone contact on your cell before even getting near the front door. If anything happened you'd call and either leave a message or have a concerned Big Jo over instantly.

The house is silent as you open and shut the front door. Not anything new to you but with the tension in the air you're more than certain someone is here with you. Making your way through the house you peer into the kitchen and living room. The coast is clear on those fronts which leaves the hall closet, your bedroom, and the bathroom right across from your room.

Quickly ruling out the closet because of the limited space for a grown adult to hide in. The only options are your bedroom and the bathroom. The bathroom that has the door open at all times and would make a great place to hide and ambush you while you went into you room. Or a good place to lock yourself in to call Jo in case they were in your room, you'd just have to be ready to sprint out faster than they could register seeing you. Then there's your room, multiple hiding spots and the baseball bat you'd left in there. Even if they came empty handed they were the one with the weapon right now, you had to be careful.

As you make your way slowly and soundlessly down the hall way you hear a small beep come from your bedroom just as you stand in the doorway of the bathroom. You don't own anything that beeps. This thought causes you to freeze in place all but your thumb which hits the dial button.

Just in time too, because in your stupor a large figure in a black ski mask opens the door to your bedroom. You barely have time to react to the sudden appearance before they come barreling into you. A sharp pain bursts in the back of your head as it collides with the wall that you are tackled into. Phone forgotten, instinctively you bring both hands to your attacker's face.

They may be wearing a ski mask but it will do little to protect their eyes against your nails. Thankfully they have a stupid red frowny face decorating the mask, giving you the perfect target for their eyes. Not expecting your quick reflexes the attacker pulls away slightly trying to get out of your reach, and get your hands off of their mask. They must be worried you'll find out their identity, and while that would be nice you'd enjoy surviving this encounter a lot more. So you continue your assault on your would be assaulter.

A large hand comes down and swoops both of yours in a crushing grip. Harshly yanking them away from their face. Unfortunately for them they'd gotten one of your knees pressed against your chest when they tackled you. With the new distance between your bodies you're able to lift your leg up higher and kick at them.

“Get OFF of me..you piece of SHIT.” more force exerted on certain words while you kicked them solidly in the chest.

Their grip actually gets tighter on your hands as you knock the air out of their lungs. Aside from that and their pained grunts they weren't giving much of a reaction. You'd be certain you weren't kicking hard enough if it wasn't for a cough that ripped through them on a particularly powerful kick to the stomach.

There's a distant warble that you can't make out, it's high pitched and annoying. Good, that irritating sound will only succeed in pissing you off more and enabling you to unleash your rage on the fucker holding you down right now.

Before you can give another blow pain erupts through your chest as it constricts. You can't breathe and you see black dots forming in your vision as you're slammed into the tile floor of your bathroom. There's a foggy feeling in your head, and that distant warble gets more frantic and higher in pitch. But you can't focus on that you can't focus on anything that isn't the merciless thudding in your chest, the pounding of your head, and the god awful static that is starting to burn your ears like a white hot fire.

With the first heavy and heaving breath you're able to take as your assailant presses you into the ground, you feel the rush of adrenaline surge through you. Without any leverage you can do little more  than squirm and thrash under the heavier figure. A brief feeling of vindication showers you as one of your arms is tugged free in your flailing. Your attacker isn't quick enough to restrain you this time and you reach your hand up to their face, this time intent on clawing it up from under the mask. That way some one would know based on the nail marks who did this, and maybe the DNA left under your skin would be enough identify them and save a future would be victim.

God you didn't want to be a victim.

Just before you can hook your fingers into their flesh they are thrown off of you. All adrenaline you had before turns into ice as you stare at their companion. The white mask with painted black features. It hadn't been a hallucination.

They hadn't been a hallucination.

They'd been in your home before. While you were there and blissfully unaware. They'd been so still, so quiet that you'd never even thought they were anything more than a messed up part of your psyche. There isn't enough time to dwell on this feeling of pure terror that spikes through you. But you still freeze in the face of the mask, only to be rewarded with an iron grip locked into your hair pulling you up by the scalp. Then you're bashed against the floor twice.

You honestly hadn't meant to play dead. In your shock it was the only thing you could do to just go limp. That once high pitched warble is now a drawn out moan almost, the static is playing at the edges of your mind as you barely make out the sound of retreating footsteps.

You want to roll onto your back but as nausea hits you at just the thought you stay on your side. Eyes fluttering against your will, this time not a tic but in an attempt to heal your body on it's limited energy reserves. You doubt you'd be able to turn over again if you needed to vomit. Hell you'd be lucky to stay conscious till someone came looking for you.

Would that be in the morning when you don't show up for work? Would it be days from now? Wait did you manage to call the Cowells?

The pounding in your head gets worse with each passing second. You officially can't keep your eyes open anymore. There's no reaction from you when you hear your front door burst open and yelling echo through the empty house. You don't stir from your sleep as someone taps you, not shaking you but just gentle taps careful to not exacerbate your injuries.

When Big Jo got to your home he slammed open your door and had his gun at the ready for your attackers. The house didn't look messed with and nothing was out of place, at least to him he'd only ever been out this far to drop little Jo off once or twice. It was quiet in your home except for a murmuring coming down the hall. So he made his way down slowly, vigilant for any sudden movement if there was anyone other than you here. He'd called your name several times since entering and hadn't received a reply.

As he got closer to the bathroom the murmuring became louder, peering in his heart stopped for a beat. The weathered man has seen a lot of shit in his time but he always hated to see a kid in your condition. Beaten with bruises littering your face and wrists all while being unresponsive as he tried to wake you. The source of the noise became clear when he saw your phone a few feet away slid into the corner away from you.

Dia was still on the line and sobbing now. If that didn't twist the knife that was already speared into his heart. Picking up your phone he spoke with his wife trying to reassure her as he felt for a pulse. You had one, one that was faster than normal. Your body was probably still reeling from what you just went through. But he wasn't a doctor and wouldn't count you out of the woods until one assessed you themself.

Jo wasn't waiting long before he heard the sirens, he went out front to meet the sheriff. After you'd been packed into an ambulance and taken to St. Francis Hospital Jo told Dia so she could meet you there. He'd stuck around while the sheriff and his deputy surveyed the area and came back to him for his statement.

“Looks like we've got most of what we needed Jo...But the kid, they got hallucinations you said?” Sheriff Owens asked.

“Why're you asking Zeke?” now wasn't the time to anger the large man as he was barely holding his normal civility.

“Now I don' mean nothin' by it – 's jus' tha' well we didn' find any evidence of a break in.”

“You think the kid coulda done that to themself? The marks on their wrists are bigger than their hands!”

“Jo, in some cases people sufferin' from delusions can do all sorts a things ta themselves... 'm just trin' ta find out if we ought ta have 'em kept in the ward for a bit.”

“They're fine. They've told me themself that they only get visual hallucinations and they can differentiate between the two.” a small lie on his part, he knows occasionally a hallucination will grab your attention for longer than it should if that were the case but he'll keep you out of the damn ward for now because this wasn't a hallucination. He had heard the struggle going on between you and someone else.

Right now his top concern was getting to the hospital and meeting up with Dia to make sure your condition was stable. If he had to lie to the sheriff to do it, so be it. Not like he wouldn't enlist his own detail to figure out what went down here. He'd let you stay with them while he contacted Lydia about updating security on her property.

Sheriff Owens didn't put up a fight on this, and said he'd swing by the hospital Wednesday to get your statement on the encounter. With that the sheriff and deputy piled into their car and left. Jo had found your keys still in the door and locked your home, a lot of good it did you but at least this way a bear wouldn't get in before they set up the new system.

Jo got to St. Francis and was greeted by his teary eyed daughter and sobbing wife. Dia really wasn't cut out for any type of violence. He's have to make sure she called her therapist this week for an extra appointment or two just to help her through this. Looking at his daughter he sees the worry in her eyes as she runs to him.

A doctor comes up to the family to inform them of your condition.

“Ah Mr. Cowell good to see you. Mx. LN is responsive right now, and in enough of their right mind to complain that we are keeping them awake.” The doctor pauses with a slight chuckle, “We have them set up with an IV drip that's giving them fluids, their pain meds, and for tonight they'll also have a caloric infusion. They mentioned that they hadn't eaten much today. So to ensure their body has the energy to heal we thought it'd be the best course of action. We're keeping them up for another hour or so before they can sleep and then we'll be keeping them for observation for at least two days.”

“Can we see YN?” little Jo interrupts.

“Unfortunately we believe they wouldn't enjoy that right now. Their injuries aren't extensive but they are quite cranky due to residual pain and hunger.” the doctor says with a smile to little Jo. “Now speaking of their injuries the worst of which is their slight concussion again we're monitoring that and they seem to be very receptive to us right now. And then there's the dislocation of their left shoulder that we've already mended and the various bruising and mental trauma they're likely to retain from the incident your wife has briefly informed us about. We'll give a card for a good therapist to you and one to Mx. LN on their departure. When can we expect the Sheriff coming?”

“Owens said Wednesday.”

“Perfect, then that should be all. If anything changes or we want to keep them longer we'll let you know right away. And Miss Cowell if you come back in the morning we're sure Mx. LN will be much more agreeable company.”

The doctor waits for a moment letting the Cowells have time to process and ask a question or two. But when nothing comes up the doctor turns away to continue their work elsewhere.

And with that the very emotionally exhausted Cowell family go home. With plans to come visit you sometime tomorrow. Big Jo does however makes a few phone calls before going to bed that night. It isn't lost on him that he's already had one employee mysteriously vanish, he doesn't like the thought that she was targeted and your next on some hit list.

[d-p-f-m]

Obey me: Asmodeus x fem!MC | Imagine

Genre: Fluff, (slight) Angst

Trigger warning: mentions of minor character death/suicide

Word count: 1820

Author's note:

I don't even write for Obey me or anything otome related at the moment, but I just had to get this idea out of my system so I can sleep peacefully and thought I'd share it here, because there's not nearly enough Asmo content out there and some of my fellow Asmodeus stans might appreciate it. This man deserves more love!

Anyway, hope you enjoy!💞

♠️♥️♣️♦️♠️♥️♣️♦️♠️♥️♣️♦️

▪Imagine a universe where it's canon that every brother owns a ring with their sin's symbol engraved in it, but Asmo's ring has been missing for a very long time without anyone knowing what happened with it because he never gives a straight answer when confronted about it

▪when MC first arrives in devildom for the exchange program, she wears the ring on a necklace around her neck, seeing as it was passed down from mother to daughter as her family's heirloom through generations

▪with six of the brothers owning a similar ring to hers, it doesn't take her very long to put two and two together. Although, once she finds out it's in fact Asmo's ring, she doesn't tell him right away, because he's not particulary responsive as she subtly questions him about the whereabouts of his ring and she's scared of the real reason why it could be in her possession

▪Maybe one of her ancestors stole it from him? Maybe it's a sign to signal that her bloodline is indepted to the avatar of lust due to some deal someone made with him eons ago? Honestly, it could have so many reasons and a lot of them make her worry that it would have negative consequences for her, if anyone found out

▪Asmo simply tells her, that he lost the ring to a woman who died before he could take it back from her and for some reason, his words make her think of the recurring nightmare that would often cause her to startle awake growing up. Anxiously, MC asks him if the woman drowned before she can think better of it

▪eyeing her warily, he confirms her suspicion, asking her how she could have randomly guessed it right. Although, unable to grasp the weird feeling that overcame her while talking about the long deceased woman, she just brushes it off as a strange coincidence

▪she starts to wear the ring less while she's around Asmo, to hide it from him until she knows she can fully trust the demon brothers

▪one time, as she stays over at his room for a sleep-over, he almost gets a glimpse at it when it slips out from the collar of her loose pajama shirt and she doesn't want to risk him seeing it again. Because for all she knows, he could get mad at her for having it. Even though she can't really understand why she has it herself

▪over time, MC and Asmo gradually grow closer

▪they don't have any kind of sexual relationship, because MC wants to genuinely love and be loved by someone before giving all of herself to them

▪while Asmo respects her decision, it obviously doesn't stop him from playfully flirting with her and due to both their affectionate natures, they develop a close friendship that involves constant casual touches and cuddling

▪every time Asmo does try to initiate anything sexual between them out of habit -since it's the only outcome people usually seek from interactions with the avatar of lust and he's not used to someone actually enjoying his company for just his company alone- MC stops him gently and tells him she'd much rather just cuddle or spend time with him in general

▪Asmo appreciates and looks forward to their shared quality time a lot and he slowly starts to accept the fact that, yes, MC's not out there to use him in any way but instead actually cares for him and his feelings

▪it shows in little, almost insignificant gestures. Like her going out of her way to do favors for him, or how she always asks if he's comfortable with the smallest of things, or even how she makes sure to get his opinion on matters where people would usually just assume they know what he thinks, according to his sin and self-imposed image

▪from time to time he even prioritizes MC's innocent, loving touches over the pleasure his usual hook-ups could bring, staying in and spending his nights cuddled up to her instead of going out to party more often than not as the months pass by

▪without neither of them really acknowledging it, they both develop deeper, romantic feelings for each other over the course of the exchange period

▪one day, as MC cleans her room, (that Mammon wrecked while searching for something to sell lol), she realizes the small casket with Asmo's ring is missing from where she had put it and she immediately rushes after the second-born, who had just left her bedroom before she came in, in case he took it. As it turns out, he did

▪when Mammon realizes how important the casket is to her, he remorsefully gives it back and she returns to her room to hide it again but just as she's about to put it away, Asmo comes strolling in

▪seeing the fancy box, he grabs it from her to take a look inside out of curiosity and when he recognizes his ring, he freezes

▪feeling guilty about keeping the ring a secret for so long, MC calmly asks Asmo to let her explain

▪she tells him that her mother gave it to her once she had turned sixteen, but she hadn't been able to teach MC anything about its origins besides that it had been passed down between family members for centuries

▪after listening to her, Asmodeus grows quiet for a while, before finally opening up a little about how he lost the ring

▪a few millennia prior to the present events with MC, while Diavolo's father was still actively ruling and it was allowed for higher-ranking demons to freely roam between the human realm and devildom, Asmo would often times visit the humans to play with people's hearts and desires

▪one day, as he was passing through a small village, he met a young woman who didn't succumb to his charms

▪she was nice and courteous towards him while they interacted, but his powers never had any actual effect and determined to defile her someday, he payed the village more visits any chance he got

▪seeing as it was one of the rare times during the day where he would get her alone, he would often join her as she spent her evenings sitting at her favorite place on the edge of a cliff, located just outside the village

▪while he tried to find a way to get the frustratingly untainted woman to give in to her deepest desires, they would talk about anything that came to their minds and over time, Asmodeus had to admit he quite enjoyed her presence

▪slowly but surely, he came to care for her once he realized that she genuinely cared for him and even though he never admitted it out loud, her friendship was something he secretly cherished

▪as they were sitting side by side one night, like many times before, the woman suddenly admitted to him that she always feared he would stop visiting her someday. That he would find someone who was willing to indulge in him in more ways than she could allow herself to and that he would eventually get tired of her company

▪while she didn't know about his true demonic nature, she had always been aware that he wasn't exactly human per se and it was only natural for her to believe that he was simply playing with her to fight the boredom that overcame him occasionally. Which, initially, had been true

▪that's when he decided to give her his ring.

▪uncharacteristically keen to reassure her he would keep visiting, unless she told him to stop, he slid the ring from his finger and onto hers instead, telling her to guard it until he'd demand it back one day

▪from this day on, she would often times invite him into her home to talk in the comfort of her bedroom instead of at the cliff and Asmodeus would rest his head in her lap while she went on about a new topic every time, gently caressing his hair or playing with the fabric of his clothes in the process

▪when she told him one night, that her father was in desperate need for money and therefore planned to marry her off to a wealthy merchant with a reputation to be cruel and violent towards women, Asmo felt a strange and long forgotten urge to protect her

▪the last person that had made him feel this way was Lilith and without really thinking it through, he offered to take her away with him

▪although, she declined his offer with a mournful smile, explaining how, even though she cared for Asmodeus deeply and wanted nothing more than to stay with him, she could never live with herself if she left her family behind for her own benefit and that she still had time to convince her father to drop his idea, before the merchant would come to take her with him

▪Asmo didn't want to upset her, by ignoring her wishes and taking her away by force, so he reluctantly accepted her decision, thinking he still had time to convince her to run away, but when he came by to check on her a few days later, she was nowhere to be found

▪it turned out she had committed suicide by jumping off the cliff and drowning herself, the morning after Asmodeus had last visited her

▪he always thought that his ring had been buried with her (let's just pretend she had a proper burial, even though at that time, suicide was probably considered a sin and not excepted by society. Maybe her family buried her in secret) and that's why he never found it, when in reality, her brother had taken it, to later give it to his own daughter in memory of his lost sister

▪after Asmo finishes with the story behind his ring's disappearance, MC quickly realizes that she has to be a descendant of the woman's bloodline (which is also Lilith's human bloodline, hence why both of them are immune to Asmo's powers)

▪she attempts to give the ring back to him, because, surely, that's what both the woman and Asmo would want. But he stops her and puts the necklace the ring is attached to around her neck, before explaining that he wants her to keep it, since his promise to someday return to claim it back still stands and he doesn't plan on leaving MC's side any time soon, anyway

▪if anything, MC finding her way to him after so many centuries just means their encounter was predetermined all along and he made the right choice by entrusting his ring to her ancestor all those years ago

▪(maybe he even thinks that him finding genuine love for the first time with MC was fate as well, but he'll have a lot of time to entertain this line thought in the future.)

🦂🦂🦂🦂🦂🦂🦂🦂🦂🦂🦂🦂

Additional note:

Damn, I want to see a full version of this, but with life butting in every 5 seconds, I don't really have the time or energy for it. So, if there's a talented writer out there who loves this idea as much as I do and wants to turn it into an endlessly ongoing, multi-chaptered slow burn, pls (PLS!!!) do and mention me in your post, so I can read it!! I could really need this story right now.

Alright, Imma go to sleep now. Bye guys🔥

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

[trashmenofmarvel]

Branded - Chapter 19

Pairing: Demon!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You and Bucky make the drive back home where he’s introduced to the family as your fake boyfriend. Absolutely everything is going to go great.

(This is a fan AU of Falling’s Just Another Way to Fly by @araniaart​ . Please check out this incredible series for all of your demon Bucky needs.)

Chapter Warnings: Domestic fluff

Word Count: 3.8k

AO3

The trip from New York to Boston was four hours filled with awkward silence. The only sounds to punctuate the tension were those of the drive itself, the hum of the engine, the sound of the windshield wipers, and the hiss of tires on wet pavement.

It was snowing fairly heavily, so when Bucky had offered to drive, you hadn’t given it a second thought. Chances of icy roads were high, and you figured he probably had some fast demon reflexes he could rely on to get you there safely.

Plus, it gave you an excuse to sneak subtle glances while he drove. Bucky was distractedly handsome in profile, and you wondered if he understood just how attractive he was. Even with his demon features hidden, tucked away under a kind of magical illusion you still didn’t understand, there was something about him that was… different. Like he was just a little too perfect to exist in the real world.

Or maybe you had it worse than you thought. You had half-hoped your feelings for him after the heigore attack had been the result of your close brush with death. That you had just been overwhelmed with gratitude and your self-confession had been a mistake. Unfortunately, that didn’t seem to be the case, and with each feeding you were only falling deeper in love with Bucky.

This trip, having him spend time with your family, in your childhood home, was only going to make it worse.

Shit.

The click of the turn signal drew you from your thoughts, and you looked out the snow-battered windshield to find the car exiting on the off-ramp. You hadn’t been paying attention but Bucky had known which exit to take without your guidance. An overwhelming mixture of emotions bubbled in your chest. You didn’t know what to do with them.

Ten minutes of navigating the streets of suburban Boston and you reached your destination. Bucky pulled up to the curb, put the car in park, and turned off the ignition. You couldn’t stop staring up at the two-story house, looking quaint and delicate covered in fresh snow. You hadn’t been here since last Christmas, and you didn’t know how to feel about it now. Too many things had happened and you weren’t the same. The last person who had walked into that house was a stranger to you now.

“Ready?”

Maybe he sensed your trepidation because Bucky’s question was soft and patient. You gave him a quick nod, unable to meet his eye. If you did, you’d start blushing all over again, reminded of how insane this plan was. But it was your plan, and if anything you were stubborn enough to see it through.

You got out of the car, immediately shivering and pulling your coat tighter around you as the snowflakes hit your face. You quickly opened the backseat and pulled out the carrier, shielding it with your body so poor Monster wouldn’t get pelted with snow.

You had always taken Monster on you with trips back home, and this would be no exception, even when Bucky had told you ‘the little beast can make it there on his own.’ When you asked what he meant, he’d tried to explain interdimensional travel through ‘wrinkles in physical space’ but your brain had shut off around that point. It had sounded more like a Tony Stark thing than hobgoblin magic, but what the hell did you know about cracks in the foundation of the physical realm?

Hurrying up to the front step, you shivered and scraped your boots on the doormat. You were just about to reach up to the doorbell when a strong arm wrapped around your shoulders.

You looked up at Bucky and he gave you a raised, amused brow. Right. Stage one of your plan and you’d already forgotten. Operation: Pretend to Have a Hot Boyfriend Who is Clearly Way out of Your League.

With an arm still slung around your shoulder Bucky reached up and pressed the doorbell. You clutched the carrier nervously, swallowing as the chimes echoed inside the house, accompanied by the sound of barking.

You’d forgotten Uncle Walter was bringing one of his dogs.

Shit. Shit.

Bucky stiffened beside you and your heart raced in panic. What if the dogs could sense he was a demon? They could tell these things, couldn’t they? Monster seemed to like Bucky, but he wasn’t a typical cat, and you were realizing you might be in over your head way more than you had originally thought—

The door swung open and you were pulled into a pair of warm arms in a tight hug before you could open your mouth to say hi. Bucky managed to retrieve the carrier from your hand as your mother hugged you tightly, squeezing the rest of the air out of your lungs.

“I missed you so much, sweetie! How was the drive? Did you have any trouble getting here? They said it was going to snow at least five inches and I know your car doesn’t handle the snow. You really should buy a new one, I keep telling you to—Oh, hello. You must be Jacob.”

Your mother finally released you, allowing you to breathe and try to sort out her whirlwind of questions, but all you could do was watch with a pounding heart as she turned to face Bucky.

You’d planned out most of the details of your fake relationship on the drive over. How long you’d been dating, where you’d met, etc. etc. It helped that Bucky already had a false identity that any of your family could look up if they wanted to (and they would, knowing how nosey they were), but…

…it didn’t prepare you for the actual encounter. Bucky had assured you he could handle himself, but now you were terrified. Not for your family for having a demon in their midst, but for the poor demon that was about to be exposed to the embarrassment that was your family.

“I am, ma’am,” Bucky said with a smooth, charming smile full of white teeth. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

You blinked. The person you were looking at wasn’t Bucky. Or if it was, he was a Bucky you didn’t know. There was a bright, sincere smile on his face, lighting up his blue eyes in ways you didn’t think was possible. He held out his hand to her, the absolute picture of a polite gentleman, and you didn’t recognize the grump, cantankerous demon you’d come to know at all.

Your mom broke into a smile herself, something you’d never seen her do with a stranger before.

“Oh, come here, give me a hug.”

Before you could say anything, she drew Bucky into a tight hug, leaving you stunned and speechless. She had never warmed up to any of the (few) boyfriends you’d brought home, and now she was embracing him like Bucky was…

…part of the family.

Oh, no.

What was possibly worse was the vaguely amused smile Bucky was giving you over her shoulder. You couldn’t blame him; the look on your face was probably quite the sight.

By the time your mother pulled back from the hug, Bucky’s charming poster boy smile was back on his face. Where he’d learned to do that, you had no idea, but your mother seemed immediately enamored.

Greeting Aunt Rena and Uncle Walter next was more intense. Not because of them, they were both sweet and welcoming to Bucky, but because of the dog. They’d left most of their small herd of Chihuahuas at home, thankfully, and Uncle Walter had only brought the one—his oldest. She was an ancient thing, white fur covering her face, but she ran up to Bucky as if she had very important business to attend to.

Bucky froze as if the dog was a Doberman and not a wad of fur that barely weighed five pounds. She sniffed at the toes of his boots, and then his ankles, unable to reach higher, and she stared up at him through big glassy eyes.

When you sure she was about to start growling or barking, warning the humans of the demon amongst them, she jumped up onto her hind legs and scratched at his leg, wagging her tail and drawing her lips back into a doggy grin.

“Honey never likes anyone,” Aunt Rena said with a startled look at your uncle before looking back to Bucky. “You must be a dog-person.”

Bucky had knelt down and cautiously put his right hand forward after pulling off the glove. He kept his demonic arm covered, and would have to do so for the entire trip, but he let the dog sniff his human hand.

When he went to pet her, she jumped up and licked his chin, startling a laugh out of him. Like all the other rare times you’d heard him laugh, it left you warm and flushed and gawking like an idiot.

“Yeah, I used to be,” Bucky answered, still smiling. He had pulled the little Chihuahua into his arms where she squirmed happily, still trying to lick his face. “Haven’t had a dog in a few years.”

There was a hint of wistful sadness there so faint you wondered if anyone else but you noticed. You hoped they didn’t. It was stupid and childish, but you were starting to feel… jealous? Left out? Over the fact everyone adored your fake boyfriend, and he seemed to like them back.

“I’m going to go get the bags,” you said, setting down Monster’s carrier and opening the door. The hobgoblin sauntered his way out of the cage and peered around as if looking over his kingdom.

Honey hunkered down in Bucky’s arms, trembling and whining at the sight of the pseudo-cat. The dogs had always been terrified of Monster, even though he’d largely ignored them, and now you knew why. Apparently they were fine with demons, but hobgoblins went too far.

“I’ll grab them,” Bucky immediately volunteered with an easy smile, setting the Chihuahua gently on the ground. You narrowed your eyes at him, seeing right through his attempts to win over your family, which was exactly what he was supposed to be doing. So why were you suddenly so annoyed about it?

“Be right back.”

Bucky kissed you on the head before retreating out the front door, and just like that, your annoyance was gone and filled instead with mortifying embarrassment when all three adults gave you various expressions of affectionate fondness and teasing.

You didn’t know if anyone had ever died from being kissed on the forehead, but if not, you were going to be the first.

Bucky brought in the bags and your mother directed him up to the guest bedroom. You were trapped downstairs for the next half hour with the obligatory catching up with your family, which was a trial even during the best of times, let alone right now when you were desperate to get away to talk to Bucky. He hadn’t come back downstairs since putting away the bags, and you’d wondered where he’d disappeared to.

Sure, they were your family, but you didn’t want to have to suffer with them alone.

When you were able to finally excuse yourself, pointedly ignoring your mother’s curious look, you went upstairs and found Bucky in the guest bedroom. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his expression blank and far away. The snow in his hair had melted and dried, leaving his long brown strands slightly wavy.

“Bucky?”

He drew in a sharp breath and looked up at you, blinking before rubbing his face.

“Sorry. Was… lost in thought. I didn’t mean to—I can come down if—“

You interrupted him by sitting beside him on the bed, close enough for your arm to brush his, but you didn’t reach out to touch him. You had a suspicion as to what had happened, and your stomach churned uncomfortably.

“I’m sorry about my family. They’re a little weird at first, but they mean well. I can tell them to lay off if they’re being too much.”

To your surprise, Bucky merely smiled. It was close-lipped and soft, but somehow still warm. Once you met his eye you couldn’t look away, and a part of you wondered if he realized the hold he had on you. A power that had nothing to do with demon pacts and bonds.

“It’s not that. Your aunt and uncle are wonderful, and your mom is… She reminds me of my own mother.”

It took everything in your power not to reach out and hug him, and you gripped the edge of the better tighter so you wouldn’t.

“What’s wrong, then?”

Bucky chewed his lip and looked away. It wasn’t until his gaze fell on the closet on the opposite side of the room that it finally clicked for you.

“Oh.” The breath rushed out of you as if you’d been gut-punched. “I didn’t… think to warn you.”

Of all the things you could have forgotten, how could you forget to tell him you would be staying in your old room? The room where he’d first come through the portal. Where the pact had first been made. Where you’d first met in an encounter you didn’t remember, the memories taken away by Buck himself?

“This is where your bed used to be,” he said, slightly patting the mattress you were both sitting on. “Only it was sideways against the wall. You had a dresser over there. Some kind of poster on that wall; I think it had dinosaurs on it. And…”

His brows furrowed but a small smile touched his lips. “A large stuffed animal cat in that corner. You really liked cats, didn’t you?”

You hunched your shoulders, but it was too late to stop the warmth on your cheeks. He really remembered all that?

“Yeah. Cats were my thing, I guess.”

Remaining quiet for a moment, you finally had the courage to ask. “Should… should we rent a hotel? I mean, if it’s too… too weird staying here. Because of… you know. The whole portal thing… and… all that.”

“Why would it be weird for me?”

His genuinely confused tone forced you to look him in the face. He really didn’t seem to understand what you were getting at judging by the furrow on his brow.

“It sounded like it had been kind of traumatizing for you, right?” you asked. “I mean, I really don’t mind if you want to go somewhere else—“

He said your name, softly and with so much fondness it made your face burn again.

“I don’t think I’ve made this clear, but… you saved me that day. Did you know that?”

You shook your head, eyes firmly planted on the faded pink carpet under your feet.

“Well, you did,” he continued, his voice a gentle rumble that sent chills up your spine. “I was in a literal Hell before I came through that portal. And I was trapped there for a long, long time. I don’t know how you did it, and frankly, I don’t really care. I’m just grateful it happened, though I wish…”

You chanced a glance up at him when he stopped speaking, forcing yourself to meet his eye no matter how difficult it was. This seemed important to him, so it was important to you, too.

His blue eyes roved over your face slowly, as if memorizing every detail, and it was very difficult to keep still under that piercing stare. It had always had the strange effect of both making you want to hide from it while also making you want to drown in it.

“I wish what had followed hadn’t happened. If I hadn’t accepted that toy from you, none of this would have happened. You wouldn’t be trapped, forced to be a… a sex slave.”

“A sex slave?” You scoffed, looking at him like he’d lost his mind. “Bucky, I’m not a—“

“Yes, you are,” he interrupted, desperate and earnest, as if needing you to understand. “That’s exactly what you are. No matter how we dress it up. You bringing me home to your family doesn’t change that. Nothing will.”

You turned away from him, now out of frustration rather than shyness.

“Bucky, we’ve been over this already. However this happened, whatever the situation is, I’m not going to blame you. You’re not a monster, you’re not hurting me, and I refuse to hate you no matter how much you hate yourself.”

He opened his mouth to argue but you beat him to it, and interrupted him to say, “I like you, Bucky. Okay? I like you a lot. So… shut up.”

His brows rose high on his forehead and you flushed but refused to look away, ready to argue with him if he refused to listen.

But all Bucky did was smile the tiniest amount and said, “I haven’t had someone tell me to shut up in a long time. Maybe it was due.”

He was definitely teasing you now, and the tension in your shoulders relaxed. You much preferred teasing over self-loathing.

“Yeah, well, sometimes you say dumb stuff.” You raised your chin, daring him to contradict you. “You’re kind, likeable. Charming. My family is already about to adopt you and they’ve known you for less than a day.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and snorted. “Yeah, well, that’s ‘cause they don’t know me. If anything, they’re fond of the chipper, bright-eyed idiot I used to be. That’s where I’m pulling that act from. My methods may be a few decades old but parents are parents.”

“You weren’t an idiot,” you said softly, remembering now the pictures you had pulled up when you first researched the demon you’d encountered in your bedroom. He really had been the starry-eyed youth Bucky described, but you remembered very clearly the stark difference between some pictures during the war. The ones where he’d looked like any other young man in his 20s, excited to go off and fight for his country.

And then there had been the ones where he’d still smiled at the camera, but his cheeks had been gaunt, the circles under his eyes dark, and the glaze of his eyes had been haunting.

The after-HYDRA pictures.

Blowing out a breath, trying to expel your sadness physically as well as mentally, you leaned your head against his shoulder. You waited to see if he tensed or moved away, but all you felt was the warm hardness of the plates of his arm underneath his jacket.

“You don’t know that,” Bucky said, voice equally soft. “I could have been the biggest idiot in the world. In fact, I’m pretty sure I was. Steve would agree with me.”

“Steve Rogers?” you asked, perking up. Captain Rogers’ backstory was practically known to everyone on the planet, and you’d waited for Bucky to mention him. You’d never imagined you’d get to know Steve Rogers’ best friend. Or that his best friend had turned into a demon.

“Yeah, that’s the one,” he said, voice lilted with amusement. You took it as a sign that this was a safe topic, so you pressed on.

“What was he like?”

Bucky snorted again, and you weren’t expecting the arm that wrapped around your shoulders. You prayed he didn’t feel your heart thumping against your ribcage.

“Reckless. Too eager to jump into a fight he knew he would lose. Stupid and brave in equal parts. Reminds me of you, actually.”

“Thanks.”

He chuckled at your dry tone. “I mean it, though. About the brave thing. Most people would have turned tail and run at the first sight of me.”

You shrugged under his arm, nestling your cheek against his shoulder.

“I’m not brave. I’m afraid, all the time, of lots of things. But you didn’t scare me.”

He squeezed his arm tighter around you and a pleasant warmth prickled along your skin.

“You probably should have been. Not very smart of you to try and befriend a demon.”

“Hmm. Guess we’re both idiots then, huh.”

“Guess so.”

After a few seconds of silence, you added, “So, we’re definitely friends then, right?”

“Oh, my God,” he groaned.

“You did say I befriended a demon—“

“Woman.”

You snorted out a laugh, and his long-suffering sigh brought out a few more muffled giggles. He was too easy a target, and you were pretty sure he liked the teasing regardless of how much he moaned and groaned about it.

Besides, he hadn’t contradicted you. Knowing that he saw you as at least a friend, if nothing else, made the trip already worthwhile.

You could have remained like that for the rest of the day, leaning against Bucky’s warm side with his heavy arm around your shoulders. Hell, you would have been content with this for the rest of your life.

Did Bucky have any idea how you felt? What would he have thought, if he did? Knowing his levels of self-loathing, he wouldn’t be ready to hear it.

Which was one of the reasons you had invited him on this trip. All the excuses you had given Bucky were true: you had the feeding to think about, and there was the possibility of other demons lurking around.

But the true reason you’d asked him to come was to show him how you felt. That you trusted him, cared for him, and wanted him to be a part of your life, bond or not. There was always the chance it would backfire and that he would push you away again, but you would rather try and fail then never try at all. Imagining leaving Bucky alone during the holidays, holed up in that freezing tower, was unacceptable.

He would just have to suffer with overbearing family, Christmas carols on the TV, and heavily-spiked eggnog with you instead.

“We should probably go back downstairs,” Bucky said, gentle puffs of air tickling your hair. “Don’t want them to think I abducted you.”

“Mmm.”

You’d meant to say something more intelligent than that, but you hadn’t realized how tired you were from packing this morning and then the drive. It was getting close to dinnertime, and you could already smell the spices from something being cooked downstairs.

“Come on.”

Bucky easily lifted you to your feet and you protested with a resentful sigh. His returning smile made your stomach do funny flips, but it was nothing compared to the squirming it did when you remembered you would be sharing a bed with Bucky for the next few days.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

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