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#(read: take and run with the idea and pretend that was their plan all along)
svtskneecaps · 10 months
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my personal pipe dream is that one monday the egg statistics drop and flippa (and maybe tilin) are just there. at the end. with one heart, and one gray checkmark.
what i imagine is the server flips their shit. alive!!! alive!!! but they log in and they don't see the eggs. instead they get a message. i do not care who it's from or how it's delivered. they're told the eggs are being held captive somewhere, but they're alive. all that's left is to find them, before sunday at midnight pst. bc if their tasks aren't done, they die (one checkmark, one quest set. once rescued they become triple check like the other eggs)
slimeriana come CRASHING back into the server, they don't know jack shit, ESPECIALLY mariana who doesn't recognize 90% of the island anymore but holy fuck, flippa is alive somewhere and they have to find her. and maybe mariana's still in the old server days mindset of raising his kid alone but slime's slowly been indoctrinated into "it takes a village" and honestly the absolute second mariana logs on, someone's gonna be in chat already like HEY MARIANA CAN I TALK TO YOU? be it baghera or cellbit or forever or bad or I DON'T KNOW, COULD GENUINELY BE ANYONE LMAO but like mystery and eggs in danger is chumming the water for this server
which is great bc A) mariana has a concrete goal for logging into the server (finding his daughter) and B) he would be interacting with the rest of the server along the way, because he's not going to be doing this alone (he wouldn't even be allowed lmfao the rest of the server would be at his doorstep asking to help him in like 15 seconds flat) which means C) he might get reasons to log in extending outside flippa and slime. bingooooo
i call this a pipe dream bc i can poke so many holes in this even rn (does cc!mariana want flippa back, like fr? i'm not up to date) but can you IMAGINE. LIKE DAMN. i'm putting this idea into the public domain fr go nuts with it.
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evanpeterswhoresblog · 3 months
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Cherry Bomb (pt. 2)
James Potter x f!reader, Sirius Black x f!reader (mentioned)
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warnings: smut, unprotected p in v, oral (male receiving), oral (female receiving), switch james? brief fingering, heavy making out, i love this smut w my heart
summary: you proceed with the second part of your plan. james potter.
word count: 2.4k
a/n: i’m so bad at writing summaries i’m sorry, i promise it’s worth it lol. i suppose this could be a stand off but i like reading them in order. hope you enjoy :) also ps if there’s any mistakes i’m sorry grammarly told me it was fine but i don’t fully trust that hoe smh
~~~
James Potter was a different story. He thought of himself as a gentleman though not many seventeen-year-olds were gentlemen. He thought this solely because he was nothing like his best mate. He had to at least know a girl's name before taking her to bed. Though, he typically liked to know a bit more than just that. So, in order to shag James Potter, one must abide by a few more rules than with dear Sirius Black. One, she must be friendly. Two, she must have some knowledge of quidditch. Three, she must be willing to stroke his massive ego despite how humiliating it may be. And four, the most important rule, she must be ready to play along with his games. Because James Potter was a chaser in all senses. And oh, how he loved a good chase.
~~~
You peak around the corner of one of the hallways, a bit out of breath. You just ran down a few flights of stairs to get here. For a few seconds you search the hallway, then he appears. He’s alone. Good.
It’s been two weeks since your night with Sirius, and it hasn’t been easy. You regret your whole show of making him remember your name, it’s caused more harm than good. But it felt good in the moment, it felt more than good. Shagging Sirius all together became your best shag the second he pressed you against the wall and kissed you till you were out of breath. You regret picking him first. In retrospect though, you had no idea how much he’d care for a second time. He’s always been known as a one-nighter. It’s been hard having to deny him, and it’s been hard convincing him that he has you mistaken for another girl. But you’ve managed.
You feel bad about it, but you try not to pay it much mind as the second part of your plan is about to begin.
You clutch your books to your chest and begin to walk down the hallway, your face down. You know what his shoes look like. So, when they begin to come closer you loosen your grip on your books and shift your body ever so slightly so that you’re in his way. Inevitably, the two of you bump into each other, and your books quickly fall to the floor.
“Shit,” you say as you fall to your knees to start gathering your things.
“Sorry love, didn’t see you there. Let me help,” he replies, crouching down in front of you.
You look at him. “Oh, it’s alright, I wasn’t paying attention.”
“Me either.” He laughs, handing you one of your papers. His eyes linger on yours. “I think I know you.”
“I doubt it.”
“No, I do. You’re the girl my mate Sirius thinks he shagged.”
You look away, pretending to be flustered. “I don’t know why he’s so set on me. I mean, I was at that party, but I went back to my dorm with my friend. And I think I’d remember a night with him you know, with his reputation.”
“Yeah, I dunno, he tends to get hammered and forget a lot,” he says. You look back at him and watch as he runs one of his hands through his dark curls. A habit of his. “I’m sure he’ll stop bothering you soon enough.”
“Yes, when the next girl is in his bed,” you reply. The two of you share a laugh and you pick up your last paper. You hold them close to your chest and stand, he follows. “Well thanks for helping, you’re very kind.”
He smiles that brilliant smile of his. “It’s only right.”
You return the smile. “I’ve got to get to class thanks again James.”
“You know my name? Are you one of my adoring fans?”
He’s smirking now, his arms folded across his chest. His ego is taking over. Perfect.
You shyly look down for a few seconds before meeting his eyes again. “Isn’t everyone a fan of the famous chaser from Gryffindor?”
“You’d be surprised how many aren’t.”
“Well, that lot must simply consist of fools.” You look down at your watch. “Seems I’m going to be a bit late to history of magic. ‘Suppose it’s alright, I don’t care for it much anyway. But I best be going, wouldn’t want to keep you from your class.”
“That’s quite kind of you y/n,” he says.
You raise a brow. “Oh? Do you happen to be one of my adoring fans?”
“Perhaps, or perhaps Sirius has been talking our ears off about you.”
“I think I like the first answer better.”
He smirks. “I see. It was nice running into you then. Literally.”
“Yes, it was.” You step past him, your eyes lingering on him for a few more seconds. “Goodbye then James.”
“Goodbye y/n.”
You leave fast with a smile on your face.
Phase one is complete.
~~~
For the next two weeks, you have more of those run ins with James. Each time having a different reaction. Some end in a sweet goodbye, some end with you barely acknowledging him at all, and some end in a quick walk through the halls together. You know how it messes with his head. One day you’re a girl who strokes his ego with flattering compliments, and another day you brush past him as if he doesn’t exist. By the sixth encounter, you relish in the knowledge that he’s starting to bump into you. Not the other way around.
“I’m starting to get Sirius. I suppose he wishes it was you that he shagged.”
The two of you are walking alone, not another person is in the hall. You look up at him, your cheeks flushing when you find him already looking down at you. He runs his hand through his hair. You hate how it makes your stomach fill with butterflies. You turn your head away.
“I don’t know why he would wish that with me.”
“I could name a few reasons,” he says.
You’ve stopped walking at this point. You turn your body to face him, another shy smile on your face. James Potter is such a charmer. You’ve known this. Yet his words affect you as if you have no idea about his reputation of being a flirt.
This is bad, you think.
It’s been hard enough resisting the urge to take Sirius up on another night together, even harder keeping up the lie that it never happened. You should stop this before it gets any worse, you know that. However, from the look James is giving you, you know you won't be able to stop this no matter how hard you try.
“Yeah?” You eventually challenge. “What reasons might those be Mr. Potter?”
“For starters, you are incredibly fit.” You watch his eyes trail up and down your body for a few seconds before returning to yours. “You’re kind, you’re funny, you make your interest noticeable, but you aren’t desperate.”
“I never claimed to be interested in you though, that’s an assumption.” You point out.
He takes a step closer to you, your breath catches in your throat. “So, if I were to, I dunno, snog you right now, you wouldn’t be pleased?”
Despite everything in your head screaming at you to snap out of it and push him away for the plan's sake, you can’t. No matter how hard you plan it seems that James Potter’s charm outdoes it. You don’t dare to move a muscle.
“I’m not sure, you might have to test and see.”
He takes another step. “I don’t want to be hexed though, if this experiment ends in the possibility of you not liking it.”
You take a step forward. The two of you are so close you can practically feel the heat radiating off his body.
“Probability and possibility are different you know.”
He lifts one of his hands to your chin, tilting it up ever so slightly. “So, it’s a possibility that you’ll push me off and hex me, and it’s a probability that you’ll...”
“Snog you harder.”
“Well, I suppose I’ll take my chances then.”
He begins to lean his head down, and you can’t stop yourself from leaning yours up, meeting him halfway. The first few seconds are gentle. You like how soft his lips are, how you can taste the mint chap stick on them. But once that initial new feeling fades so does the gentleness.
Within a few short minutes you’re no longer standing in the middle of a hallway being kissed as if it were your first. Instead, you’re pressed against the wall in a broom closet, with your shirt half unbuttoned and James Potter’s hand up your skirt. Your head falls back against the stone as he sucks the sweet spot on your neck, his thumb rubbing perfect circles on your clit. You run your hands through his curls, they’re just as soft as you expected.
“James,” you moan.
“Yes love?”
You struggle to catch your breath. “I don’t- we can’t- fuck.”
“Hm?” He presses his thumb down harder; you feel your orgasm approaching. “You alright?”
“Yes- just don’t stop,” you reply.
He lifts his head, his dark eyes meeting yours. “Whatever you want.”
It’s safe to say, after that, phase two is completed.
~~~
Another week passes before you reach phase three. You don’t know why but playing James’s game is awfully fun. You know you’ve got him, and he knows he’s got you, but neither of you will say it. So, before anything can move too far in the closets, one of you stops it with an excuse and the other doesn’t question it. Part of you keeps it going because you want him to say the words, and another part of you keeps it going because deep down you don’t want it to be over yet.
But everything must end eventually.
The game's ending comes on a quiet Friday night. James catches you after dinner, dragging you off to one of the now familiar closets. He wastes no time, instantly pressing his lips to yours the second the door closes. There’s a desperation on his lips you haven’t felt before, it excites you. Naturally, you kiss him back, your hands moving up to his hair, his moving down to your waist.
Only a few seconds pass like this, then he pulls back. You can barely see his eyes through the darkness, but what you can see tells you something different is going to happen. He’s starving and you are more than happy to give him a taste.
“Can I have you y/n?” He whispers.
“Have me?”
He nods, his hands roaming up your sides. You shiver. “I need it, need you. Now.”
“You can have me, as long as you promise to keep this between us.” You place your hands on his shoulders and push him till his back hits one of the walls. “We wouldn’t want Sirius to be jealous that you actually got to shag me. You haven’t told any of them about this have you?”
“I have not, and I won’t. I swear,” he answers. “You can trust me.”
You smile and press a small kiss to his lips before lowering yourself to your knees. “I know I can. You’re a very sweet guy James and for that I’m going to show my appreciation.”
“You don’t have to-”
You begin to undo his belt. “I want to.”
“You sure?”
“Positive.”
You unzip his trousers and pull away the fabric. You’re not surprised to find him already hard. You also aren’t surprised at how big he is. From the girls you’ve known to have shagged him, only good things came from them. You don’t waste any more time. You take him in your mouth and as far down your throat as possible. Blow jobs have never been your favorite activity, but from the sound that leaves James’s lips you know you’ll enjoy this specific one.
And you do.
You don’t know how much time passes by the time he’s cumming down your throat, but you do know you’ve enjoyed every moment. He moans your name louder than he should, his fingers tangled in your hair as he cums. Typically, you’d spit but this time you swallow. When you’re sure he’s done you pull back and rise, whipping your drool with the back of your hand.
James is breathless when he reaches for you. He doesn’t hesitate to kiss you, nor to return the favor. Your legs shake as he buries his face between them, licking and sucking your clit at a perfect rhythm. It’s not long before it’s your turn to come undone due to his mouth. You have to hold yourself up on the wall as you finish, you practically see stars.
You pull him back up a minute later and wrap your arms around his neck. He kisses you once again and you savor the taste of yourself on his lips. It’s like a prize. And a memory you will forever cherish.
“Fuck me James,” you whisper eventually. “Like you mean it.”
“Your wish is my command,” he replies.
His hands fall to your thighs, and he lifts you up. You comply, wrapping your legs around his waist as he positions his hard again cock at your entrance. He enters you slowly, both of you savoring the feeling. He stretches you in an indescribable way that makes your toes curl. You hold him tight as he begins to fuck you.
Due to his active role in quidditch, his stamina is very built. He fucks you through two more orgasms before he even begins to show a sign of finishing. Tears role down your cheeks from the overstimulation, he asks you if you want to stop. You shake your head. He continues. Each thrust hits that spot inside you that makes your eyes roll back into your head. When he does eventually finish, he fills you up, his dick pulsing inside you.
He holds you tight after, his face tucked in your neck.
“You’re amazing,” he mumbles, his breath ragged. “I think I’d like to keep you.”
In this moment, you forget about your plan, and you turn your head to press a soft kiss to his sweaty head.
“I wouldn’t mind that.”
~~~
As you lie in bed that night with your diary in hand, a fresh checkmark next to James’s name, you wonder how you’re supposed to go on to the next part. Too many emotions have gotten involved from you, James, and Sirius. You know adding another person into the mix will only cause further issues. However, you also did save the best for last. Intentionally. At least, you think so anyway. James and Sirius have given you times you didn’t know you could ever have.
But then your eyes trail over the last name again.
Remus Lupin.
The show must go on.
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sopiao · 8 months
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OMG HIIIIII ^^
i feel like there’s not enough price love on this app >:( so i wanted to request a reader that moves in across the hall from Price. and gets a little crushy crush on you 😻
LIKE OMG he helps you move in, do all the heavy lifting. such a gentlemen. always there whenever your AC breaks down. he just so happens to run into you in the complex’s laundry room. somehow always awake when you need him.
please ignore this if you want or don’t feel like it!! take care of urself boo!
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PLS IVE BEEN SO EXCITED TO DO THIS THE SECOND I FIRST READ IT. honestly such a cute idea :^
anyways- 👀
Price was a very private man, never discussing any deep or emotional issues or feelings with anyone. He hated small talk, always found it awkward or bothersome. He didn’t feel as lonely as he thought he’d be, he liked the peace and the time he has for himself. Yes, he will be polite, but would rather prefer being by himself. But he’d try his best to avoid any interaction without being rude.
That was until he heard talking and a series thuds outside. Price was always very nosy and curious so he looked through the peephole of his door and saw you standing in front of the apartment across from his, it was empty for as long as he’s been there. Boxes were scattered along your feet.
He’s not sure why, but he felt like he should help you. He told himself it was just to make a good first impression of course. He scrambled to find the nearest clean shirt he could find. Coming out to meet you, Price was awkward at first, feeling like it was a bad idea at the last second until he saw your face, a soft and welcoming smile.
“Hi! Sorry about the boxes, I’ll be quick” You chuckle awkwardly, looking at the boxes that took up one side of the hallway. A smile instantly grew on him as he reassured you that it was alright and that it wasn’t a bother.
“You need a hand? I have some free time” He offered, lying, not wanting to seem like an eager creep that’ll snatch a pair of underwear from you while your not looking.
“You sure? I don’t wanna take up any of your time” Of course you were grateful for the offer but didn’t wanna be a bother. He insisted that he helped and that he wouldn’t be late to the nonexistent plans he made up. You didn’t doubt that he couldn’t do it. I mean, just look at him. His arms alone made you drool.
He made sure to make a show of it when he helped you out. Holding a box close against his barrel chest, making sure to subtly flex his arms he knew you were eyeing. Occasionally, you’d sneak a glance of his ass when you would go back out to bring in another box.
Price even helped you bring in all of your furniture from the downstairs lobby to the second floor. Doesn’t sound like much but when your bringing in furniture up and down and up and down— it gets tiring as hell. And fortunately for your case, sweaty.
Right after bringing in the couch, he did 80% of the lifting, you plopped down across it for a little break. Price pulling up the bottom of his shirt to wipe the sweat off his neck and face, showing you what you’ve been thinking about since the beginning. He was turned to the side so it didn’t look as obvious that he was showing off for you, but you still got that full view.
Price was excited when he heard a knock on his door, even more when he saw you, if he was a dog his tail would be wagging side to side.
“Sorry to bother you again, but do you know how to fix an AC? Or a repair number I can call?” You asked, chuckling nervously, again he pretended that he had free time in between plans he didn’t really have. Plus, it took him away from his heaps of paperwork and got to be in your presence, even if it’s for a short while.
“‘Course. I have some time” Flashing the charming smile you always thought about. Following you into your apartment with a reasonably sized tool box. He couldn’t help but eye how you looked, dressed to try and accommodate the hot weather without a functioning AC. Loose black tank top and grey sweatpants.
“Thank you! I would’ve probably roasted to death if I went one more minute with out it. So sorry to bother you again” You grinned, relief washing over you, the cool air against your boiling skin and sweat woke you instantly.
“No problem at all” He shrugged, putting his tools back in the red metal box, resting his surprisingly soft hand on your shoulder.
“Feel free to call me anytime anything needs fixing” His touch seemed to linger, along with your and his gaze on each other.
Price sprang up in a second and came running into your apartment when he heard a scream, the door was unlocked. He found you sitting on your counter with a pan, clearly afraid and scared.
“What?! What happened?!” He yelled, looking around your apartment for an intruder or something, his wooden bat being held over his shoulder, ready to strike.
You stuttered, too scared to reply, even think to form a sentence.
“A spider”
“What- Wait- Seriously?” He let the bat drop to his side, laughing at how seriously afraid your expression was.
“Yes, seriously! It’s huge, John! It’s as big as my hand!” You yell, trying to get to him while he laughs.
“Fine. Where is it?” He smirked. You followed him to your bedroom where the spider was. It really was as big as an atom, he couldn’t even find it until it moved up the wall.
When John heard your knock at his door he took no longer than a second, ready to open the door and greet you. Wondering what you’d want at this time of the night. He stopped for a second, realizing that he may be a little too eager. Waiting a couple seconds, like one or two, and opening the door, pretending that he just ended a call.
“Hm?” He tilted his head, forearm resting on the edge of the door as he leaned against it. Somehow you were more charming than the last time he saw you. Looking so excited with a paper towel on your hand with a single treat on it. He pretended he didn’t see it, but was internally hoping it was for him.
“Oh, good. You’re awake” You chime happily, taking the thick brownie and pressing it up to his lips for a bite. Wanting for him to take the test brownie, but being to awkward to ask him normally. He hummed in surprise, accepting the baked good. Placing his hand under his chin to keep it from falling and leaving crumbs.
“So?” You asked a couple seconds later, he’s still chewing. He chuckles at your eagerness, nodding his head as he tried to finish up his bite.
“I- Uhh. Wow. This is—this is good. Mm, really good” He nods, taking another bite of it as he dusted of his hands. Making you delighted that he liked it. He held the last bit of it up to your mouth to take it. Biting it from his hands you looked to the side, nodding to yourself and taking mental notes.
“Good. Good. Needs chocolate chunks, a little too dry” He stares as you just talk to yourself, a soft smile on his face.
“Oh. Caramel! Or is that too thick?” You perk up, snapping your fingers and looking up for confirmation or disapproval.
“Frosting?” He adds cluelessly, knowing nothing of the science of baking.
“Frosting!” Your eyes light up, pointing your finger at the idea.
“Mocha, maybe? Or nuts?” He tried his best to help and contribute to your little brainstorming session. Nodding along with the idea you thank him and walk back to your apartment to tweak the recipe a bit.
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A Fine Line [part 1]
Summary: You've been with Aegon for a little over four years and the relationship just isn't the same. His brother isn't helping the situation, either. This is a Modern Day AU!
Pairing: Aegon x Reader / Aemond x Reader
Word Count: 3.3k
Author’s Note: Guys, I think it goes without saying that you should never cheat on anyone. Just don’t do it. This is a complete re-write of an old Marvel idea that I had. It is also my very first HOTD fic, so I am open to any feedback that you may have. This man just has a motherfuckin' hold on me, like I don't even know what happened. Nevertheless, I hope that you enjoy this! Please let me know if you would like to be tagged.
Warnings for the entire series: severe angst, cheating, unprotected sex, jealousy, lying, possessiveness, stalking, manipulation, and language.
Playlist here
Read Chapter Two
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You felt the bed shift.
The sun hadn’t yet made a break in the early morning sky, and the room was still dark; only dimly lit by the bathroom light that had just been turned on. You could hear the faucet running and the faint sound of teeth being brushed as you reached over and checked the time. The intense light of the screen made your vision blur and eyes squint, but after a few blinks, you could make out those three numbers; 5:06 AM.
A shadow moved along the hallway walls, and you quickly placed your phone back on the bedside table and turned on your side. With your eyes clamped shut, you listened as he moved around the room, mentally picturing every action; opening the closet door, pulling a shirt from the hanger, crossing the room to the dresser, finding a pair of socks and boxers in the drawer. It was the same every morning, every day, at the same time. 
Aegon wasn’t Aegon without his daily routine; wake up, brush teeth, shower, breakfast, work, lunch, work, home, dinner, bed. You used to enjoy it, the structure that you had both brought to each other's lives. It was a complete change from when you had first met him. He used to be completely haphazard; snoozing through every alarm and perpetually late, but he had come into his own after he had met you.
You used to wake up with him and get an early start on your day; making breakfast together, sitting at the table together, reading your emails while he scrolled through the news. You'd make plans for dinner and talk about your friends, and your jobs, and you'd laugh and joke. And it used to be nice. But now you just pretended to be asleep, waiting until he left before getting out of bed. 
You wondered if it was wrong to do that, because, to you, it certainly felt like it was. Aegon brought it up, too, a couple of times; always wanting to know if something was wrong, or if you were okay. Truth be told, you weren't even sure of the reason for the change, so you just told him that you were tired and that work was stressful.
Often, you wondered if maybe you should start again.
Start trying...
Maybe it’d make things better. 
Or as your best friend, coworker, and self-proclaimed love guru, Baela, liked to say, there was no getting better. According to the white-haired cynic, the vast majority of relationships are doomed from the start, and that you should take your unhappiness as a sign that things just weren’t meant to work out with Aegon. 
Some mornings, you’d look in the mirror- bare feet cold on the tile floor, hands gripping the sides of the porcelain sink- and asked yourself if Bae was right; if all of this was a sign that you just weren’t meant to be. You’d ask yourself if you really loved Aegon, and if it’d be better to break things off than to dig yourself in deeper. You knew that the answer was probably ‘yes’, because if the answer was ‘no’, you wouldn’t even be asking those questions in the first place.
But then you’d remember what it was like to be together when the two of you first started dating, and couldn’t help but hope that one day it’d go back to that. Fooling yourself into believing that this was just something that all couples went through, and allowing yourself to continue on with your boring, auto-pilot type life.
The subway platform was cold and damp as you waited in the crowd of a hundred people. Melting snow from the streets above had water dripping down the walls, and it smelled of musty leather and dirty shoes. Your scarf and jacket weren’t doing much to keep you warm, and you cursed yourself for not grabbing your gloves before you left the house. Although, you probably wouldn’t have kept them on very long because you couldn’t use your phone while wearing them.
It was the first week of January. Christmas and New Years had come and gone and people were making their way back to work after a long weekend. In the office, there was a giant board in the break room for people to write down their resolutions; serving as a reminder to keep people on track for the first few months. Most of them were ‘eat healthy’ and ‘exercise more’, and most people would fall off the wagon before February.
Baela was already at her desk when you got to your tiny, cluttered, shared cubicle. A red coffee cup in one hand and cellphone in the other; her hair was pinned up to perfection and shined underneath the fluorescent lights; swaying softly as she turned around in her desk chair. 
“Good morning!” She said with a smile. “Coffee’s on your desk.”
“Thank you,” you replied. “I didn’t have time to stop this morning.” You shrugged out of your jacket and hung it over the back of the chair before grabbing the small, cardboard cup and bringing it to your lips; eyes fluttering shut at the taste and warmth of the beverage. “You’re too good to me, B.”
“I know,” she replied with a kind smile. “How was your weekend? Did you and Aegon do anything exciting?”
“We stayed home, had a couple glasses of champagne and watched the ball drop.” You replied with your back turned to your coworker, fingers dancing over the keyboard as you logged into your computer. “I broke out that pretty, purple lace lingerie set,” Baela made a sound to let you know that she was still listening. “He said that he really liked it, but he didn’t want to do anything because he was too tired, and had to go into work early.”
You could hear her clicking her tongue against her teeth. 
“It’s like, we have these really good moments together,” you continued. “And most of the time, things are pretty good, but they just aren’t the same. There’s no passion, or spontaneity, it’s like we don’t have fun anymore.”
“Yeah, but you guys have been together for a few years,” Baela replied, turning slightly in her chair to look at you. “Relationships usually change after awhile, that’s normal.”
“Bae, the last time we really had fun was Jason's birthday.”
"Our boss Jason?" She gulped. You nodded and her eyes widened in disbelief. "But that was last May!"
“That’s exactly my point.”
“Speaking of birthdays,” Baela began, finally changing the subject. “I was planning to celebrate Jace's is on Saturday, and I was thinking we could take him out for a few drinks, let him beat us both at bowling, I might even make a cake.”
“I can do Saturday,” you replied as you marked the date on your desk calendar.
“Great!” Baela exclaimed. “He’ll really like that, I think.”
As if on queue, Jace popped his head over the wall of your cubicle, eyebrows raised. “Hey ladies,” he said smoothly with a slight smile. “How are you both on this Monday morning?”
“Great!" Baela answered first with a wide, sparkling smile. 
“I wouldn’t have used that much enthusiasm, but sure, it’s great.” You mumbled in return, not taking your gaze off of your calendar after having noticed that it was almost four years to the day that you met Aegon. Little, red hearts outlined the box that marked the day. 
You remembered that day so vividly, as if it was just yesterday; stumbling out of the snow and into an inviting coffeeshop on the corner of 39th & 7th. Your boss had asked you, of all people, to interview the son of the President & CEO of the most well-known oil company in the world regarding the mass job cuts that continued after the COVID-19 pandemic. He was late to the interview by twenty-three minutes and you found it out-of-place that he wasn't wearing a suit. His hair was unkempt and his blazer was not doing a very good job of hiding a toothpaste stain on his button-up.
"Thank you for waiting, the train ran late." He greeted as he shook the snow from his hair and extended his hand to you. The closer he became, the more apparent it was that he was either high or hungover. "Aegon."
"Y/N," you replied and gestured towards the table. "Your assistant said that you liked one cream and two sugars?"
What was supposed to be a 30-45 minute interview turned into an hour and a half long conversation. Aegon had an answer for every one of your pointed questions, and gave great responses about the future of the company with his father's dwindling health and the succession of his business- which was what everyone really cared about, really. But you found yourself nearly hanging on every word, even if you truly thought most of it was bullshit. There was something you found incredibly attractive about his sarcastic smile and the way that he quipped back at you when you'd try to back him into a corner.
When it came to the article, you didn't hold back- you couldn't; blasting Aegon for his unprofessionalism and the excuses that he made for his father and grandfather regarding the layoffs. After the paper was printed and distributed, you received a bouquet for roses to your desk with a card that read, "Thank you for your honesty and the conversation. Let me take you out on a real coffee date some time? 212-555-8598"
You remember the look on Baela's face as she stood over your shoulder reading the tiny, rectangular card along with you. Her elbow digging into your side as she wagged her eyebrows, teasing you as if you were children. But nevertheless, you did text him, and you did let him take you out on that date, and you had been together ever since.
“Hello?” Jace’s voice pierced through your thoughts. “Earth to Y/N! You coming to the meeting or are you just going to sit at your desk and daydream all day?”
You looked up to see Baela and Jace both standing, waiting for you. There was a mandatory team meeting in five minutes. 
“Yeah, I’m coming.” You said quickly, grabbing your coffee and following your coworkers towards the conference room.
“What’s got your head in the clouds?” Bae asked under her breath as you walked side-by-side.
“Just thinking about when Aegon and I first met," you replied.
She just shook her head at you and took her seat at the table, pulling a pen from behind her ear, and waited for the meeting to start. Her face was determined and focused, ready to spill all of her new ideas for this week’s paper, and knowing Baela, she had a million and one. 
After the meeting, you both went straight back to work, only letting up off of your keyboard for your lunch hour. Your cubicle mate was strictly relationship advice, and had an entire bin in the mail room dedicated to letters from her fans; who were mostly women in their late 30′s to mid 40′s, wondering what to do about their lazy husband who failed to notice that they got their hair cut.
You had your own column that was rightfully called ‘Popular Now’, where you wrote about everything that was popular that week; including television shows, music, people, movies, and restaurants. Sometimes you got to go to fancy restaurants and club openings, movie premiers, and concerts. Despite your life long dream to be a front-page, investigative crime journalist, you enjoyed your job and the perks it offered. 
“You want to go grab a drink?” Baela asked, turning off her computer. She had a stack of fan mail in her hand. “We can read about all the horrible break ups that happened this past week.”
“As fun as that sounds,” you began. “I have to go to the grocery store before I head home. I’m making Linguine tonight. Aegon's favorite.” You said as you shut off your desk lamp and began stuffing some papers into you bag.
“Suit yourself,” she replied with a shrug. “I’ll ask Jace.”
“You two have fun, then!”
The streets were overcrowded with overworked city-dwellers who were desperate to get home. The wind had picked up significantly since that morning, numbing your face as you walked through the crowd of double-breasted, suit wearing men and women who were yakking on their phones about what was for dinner. Your tights did nothing to keep your knees from shaking, and you started to regret your decision to walk instead of call a cab. It would have only taken longer for the latter in the stop-and-go traffic of rush hour.
You tried to call Aegon once you got into the store to make sure that there wasn’t anything else he needed added to the list, but he didn’t answer. He barely ever did. He was almost always on his phone, taking business calls and messages for his father, but could never answer the phone for you. At this point you didn’t even bother leaving a message, knowing that he wouldn’t take the time to return it.
After you had made your way through the aisles with your basket in hand, you walked towards the checkout lanes, only to find two long lines that were moving much, too slow. Your foot tapped impatiently against the floor as you waited. You turned your head slightly, watching as more and more patrons continued to line up with their carts. You noticed the gentleman standing behind you with only one item. He looked oddly familiar, but you shrugged him off as just being another hipster guy with long hair.
"Would you like to go in front of me?" You asked him politely.
The corners of his lips turned into a small smile as he eyed your basket. "I appreciate the gesture," his voice was smooth. "Are you sure you don't mind?" You shook your head and stepped to the side for him to move in front of you. "Thank you."
"Of course," you responded.
The line was still moving painfully slow; coming to a halt as the cashier called for a manager on the overhead speaker over the price of a shampoo bottle. Your eyes perused the magazines on the shelf to your left, glossing over the headlines and laughing to yourself at the more ridiculous ones. As you continued to wait, you couldn't help but steal another glance at the man now standing in front of you. Your eyes must have lingered a little longer than they should've, tracing across his sharp features, because you were brought back to reality when you heard him clear his throat- his steely gaze returning yours.
"I'm sorry," you confessed to him as your cheeks grew warm. "You just look so incredibly familiar and I can't put my finger on it- have we met?"
"You're implying that I'm forgettable," he responded with a smirk. "I don't think we have, I would certainly remember if we had as there is nothing forgettable about you." Your blush only intensified as he held his hand out and took your hand into his. "I'm Aemond."
"Y/N," you replied, fingers curing around his. "Wait, Aemond?" It finally clicked. This was Aegon's brother that you had never met due to the fact that he was always traveling for business. You had only seen his picture on your refrigerator a million times. Only, in the picture he was about twenty years younger, his cheeks were more plump, and he had both eyes. "You're Aegon's brother, there's a picture of the two of you as kids on our fridge."
"You must be his lady, then." He replied and you thought you could hear a hint of disappointment in his voice. You hadn't even realized that he was still holding on to your hand until he dropped it. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you."
"The pleasure is mine," you smiled as he placed his item onto the conveyor belt as the line began to move again. "Aegon says that you are always traveling for work? How long are you in town for?"
“I actually got promoted,” he replied and you placed the plastic divider on the belt, signaling to the cashier where his order stopped and yours began. "I’m home for good now.”
“Oh that’s great!” You exclaimed. “You should come by some time. I’m sure Aegon would love to see you.”
“Yeah,” he chuckled as he handed his card to the cashier. “I will.” He took his bag from the end of the counter and looked back at you one last time before taking his receipt from the cashier. “I’ll see you around, then.” 
You nodded as the cashier asked if you had your discount card.  
Aegon wasn’t home when you got there, and you reveled in coming home to an empty apartment. It was so quiet; no loud television or hour long conversations with his financial advisers about the business. Just the sounds of boiling water and the sizzling of shrimp in the frying pan. 
It was peaceful.
You stood in front of the refrigerator staring at the small photo of Aegon and his brother held to the stainless steel with a smiley face magnet. Aemond's freckles and messy hair, Aegon's toothy grin and mischievous eyes as they pulled funny faces for the camera. Aegon didn't talk about his brother much, but you knew that he missed him.
“Yeah man! It’ll be great to have you around again.” You heard the front door open shortly after you drained the noodles, signaling that Aegon was home. The door slammed behind him, followed by the thud of his briefcase on the living room floor. “You should definitely come by soon,” he said loudly into his phone. Moments later, he joined you in the kitchen and placed a kiss on the side of your cheek without saying a word and then headed up the stairs to change into something more comfortable. “I can’t wait for you to meet, Y/N. You’re going to love her, brother.”
You smiled to yourself as you pushed the shrimp around in the pan one last time before shutting off the heat. Everything looked and smelled amazing, and you couldn’t wait for Aegon to try it. You had the table completely set up; white wine, the nice plates that were only for when there was company, and the candles were burning. 
“Hey babe,” he said as he stepped back into the kitchen. “That was Aemond. He’s back in town for good now, he’s going to come for dinner Friday night.”
“That’s great!” You replied, and Aegon picked a plate off of the table. 
“He’s excited to finally meet you.” He was grinning from ear to ear. “I was thinking maybe you could invite Baela?” he followed up as he sat the plate on the counter next to you and moved to grab a bottle of beer from the fridge. “So that you have someone to talk to if we get caught up in catching up."
“Y-yeah,” you replied with your back to him, wondering why Aemond didn’t mention your run-in at the grocery store. “That sounds like a great idea.” You placed the pot on the kitchen table with an oven mitt underneath and took to your usual seat. 
Aegon, still standing, hurriedly fixed himself a plate and popped a shrimp in his mouth. “Mm, this is delicious. I hope you don’t mind, but I’m going to eat in the office. I have a lot of work to catch up on.” He told you quickly and dashed up the stairs.
Before you could say anything, he was already gone.
You took a sip from your wine glass and sighed, staring at the dinner you had prepared. Despite how hungry you might have been before you cooked dinner, your appetite seemed to have completely vanished. You didn’t even bother to fix yourself a plate, just finished your wine instead before standing up and putting the leftover away. 
306 notes · View notes
kasdan · 6 months
Text
Matching Costume Headcanons
masterlist
Pairing: marvel characters x gn!reader
Characters: Frank Castle, Loki, Carol Danvers, Kamala Khan, Bucky Barnes, Peter Parker, Yelena Belova, Matt Murdock, Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff
Warnings: franks part was so fluffy and cheesy it hurt my heart and then theres matt being the biggest whore, nat is a menace
happy halloween all!❤️
𝑭𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝑪𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒍𝒆
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he finds the costumes in the closet when he’s looking for something
“oh god”
knows exactly what it means even when he sees you and your innocent smile standing in the doorway
doesn’t even want to go out for halloween, but now he has to because he’s not going to turn you down when you look so excited and you obviously put time into finding the costumes
complains about how the costume fits on him and how it’s too tight in places
will put on a smile on his face even if he might not feel 100% into it, but by the end of the night he’ll won’t be able to help the genuine smile on his face, even if the costumes are of the dumbest things
gets tired of certain accessories on him and tries to take them off for a while, but is forced to put them right back on when he sees the look you have on your face
doesn’t care what he’s wearing he’s just glad he’s spending time with you and wouldn’t have it any other way
will put this costume or any other costume on again if you want him to mans actually will not care as long as you’re there with him
𝑳𝒐𝒌𝒊
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when you bring up the idea of matching costumes together he’s confused at this custom
“why would you want to dress as something else?”
you eventually convince him to do it and can see that he’s more excited for it than he lets on
lets you do all the planning as it was your idea after all
he pretends to be reading and fully immersed in the book when you’re putting some things together for the costumes
he’s not good at hiding his interest
when you ask him to try on the costume for the first time he’s very reluctant and makes a big deal out of it
you practically have to push him into the bathroom to change, him mumbling about how he can just use magic to put it on, but you insist that he has to put it on the correct way
will complain the entire time when out in public while wearing the costume about “dumb midgardian traditions”
will do it again next year if you ask really nicely:))
𝑪𝒂𝒓𝒐𝒍 𝑫𝒂𝒏𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔
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you have multiple different costumes that you change into as the night progresses
is very committed to the different costumes
one costume she carries a boombox around on her shoulder and you know that mf is so heavy to be carried around like that
has you both take a picture of every single costume you change into
goes out dancing with the costumes on and you have the time of your lives
will put out the wackiest dance moves, attempting to make them correlate to the costume she’s wearing, but ends up just jumping around
will run down the street and drag you along with her, she enjoys the freeing feeling of the wind along with the costume she’s in
hosts a halloween costume party so she can show everyone both of your costumes at once
overall she really just likes halloween
you’ll bake food and treats while in your costumes
she’s really tempted to dress up for the entire week of halloween but eventually just decides to do the day of when you mention the work that would have to go into it, even though she had enough costumes to do so
you did it really just to save yourself so you wouldn’t have to dress up for an entire week
𝑲𝒂𝒎𝒂𝒍𝒂 𝑲𝒉𝒂𝒏
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she brings up the idea of matching costumes with the most excitement out of anyone
will have bruno make both the costumes— captain marvel of course but if you want to make your own she would be ecstatic and check up on the progress of it practically every minute
won’t stop talking about the costumes and how cute you guys are going to look in them
has her costume done months in advance
keeps giving you tips on different things you can do with your costume and adds the same things to her costume
the week of halloween no one can get her to shut up
she’s bouncing off the walls as halloween draws closer and the time to wear our costumes comes
her parents are constantly trying to get her to calm down but she’s kamala and she’s going to be excited when she gets to dress up as her favorite superhero
when you guys are out with your costumes she’s constantly raving on how cute they are and how you have the best costumes
already talks about next years costumes when the night is barely over
𝑩𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒚 𝑩𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒔
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you surprise him with the costumes when they’re finally finished and are ready for him to see
he’s caught off guard by them, not being prepared for you presenting him with matching costumes, even though he knows halloween is coming up and you were bound to do something for it
he’s always down to try new things, so instead of dismissing and ignoring the outfits, he’ll embrace them and get excited to when you both can wear them out together
even if you guys don’t go out and do something he’ll still find dressing up in the costumes and doing whatever you guys do fun
as long as the costumes aren’t incredibly cheesy and dumb
when you suggest dressing up as tom and jerry he’s completely against it after you had to explain to him what it was
ends up going out in the costume anyway because he can’t bring himself to turn you down when you seem excited, even if it’s because of him being humiliated
will look into doing it again next year, but has to have a say in the costumes from here on out and won’t be afraid to turn any ideas down; he let you have your fun this year
𝑷𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌𝒆𝒓
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has a million costume ideas you guys can do together
from peanut butter and jelly to two of the ninja turtles this man has everything you wouldn’t have even considered in a million years covered
takes this more seriously than some major school assignments
if you turn down all the ideas he has he’ll just go and come up with more until you eventually agree to one
has multiple color palettes to choose from for the costumes to make it to your liking
takes so many pictures of you two in the costumes
you will find him enthusiastically showing off the costume to other people and motioning to you from across the room as he talks
will want to make it an annual thing from this point on after you two got so much positive feedback
he wants to go everywhere with the costumes on; into every store and restaurant just to show them off happily leading the way as you trail behind him
you have to force him to take it off and put on regular clothes at the end of the night when he’s very reluctant to take the costume off
𝒀𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒂 𝑩𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒂
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you both dress as the dumbest things you could possibly find
you walk around spirit halloween to find something and she grabs everything she sees
there’s a point where you find a mask and you walk up behind her to scare her with it
she screams inside the store, almost punching you and you have to quickly shush her and pull the mask off to show her that you’re not a murderer under it
she just stares at you with an open mouth and wide eyes before she starts to laugh asking why you would do that between the laughs
you practically try on half the store, forgetting you’re there to find costumes to actually go out with
she comes out of the dressing room with tears in her eyes from how hard she’s laughing when you put on peppa pig costumes you found
you two almost get kicked out of the store when she knocks over accessories on a shelf and has to rapidly put everything back
picks out the most random accessories that don’t go with the costumes at all
you stay in the store until it closes and you have to rush to check out the costumes you eventually decide on
you both go out drinking and have a good time in the costumes that you eventually get
𝑴𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝑴𝒖𝒓𝒅𝒐𝒄𝒌
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doesn’t really see the point of matching costumes since he won’t even be able to see what you look like, but caves when he can tell that you really want to
questions little tiny accessories that you have to clip on for him
you mess with him saying the costume is neon pink and his eyes visibly widen for a second before he realizes that you’re messing with him
will find himself smiling the whole night especially when people comment on the costumes
talks you up and gives you all the credit for the costumes if people ask about them
you purposely make his costume pants extra tight (for no apparent reason)
the little whore knows you did it on purpose too and will make you regret it
“accidentally” keeps dropping his glasses and bending down to pick them up
you offer to pick them up for him but he insists that he’s fine doing it himself
causes multiple instances in where he has to walk in front of you for something
he’s such a whore.
𝐍𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐚 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐟𝐟
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picks out all the details for the costumes
she says every accessory makes a difference, no matter how small the detail is
the costumes are so tight they might as well just be painted on
makes the costumes identical to each other, with just the color of them being slightly different
walks in like she owns the place with your rightful place next to her
won’t let you leave her side for the whole time when you’re both wearing your costumes
she says you both have to be seen together with the costumes at all times or the magic will disappear
just smiles at you when you tell her you have to go to the bathroom and she motions for you to lead the way
you just sigh knowing you won’t be able to do anything about it and if she follows you into the bathroom she follows you into the bathroom
now you’re stuck with her and every year you’re going to be in the same boat you’re in now
𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚 𝐌𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐟𝐟
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you both spend time planning the costumes figuring out what you’re going to be and the design on how they’re going to look
you make a joke of you both going as witches and apparently the idea just stuck so now you’re designing different witch costumes you both can wear
makes the costumes as cliche as possible with the pointy hats and brooms
gives you a pointed look when you hold a broom up to her and she doesn’t grab it at first but then can’t help but let out a laugh as she grabs it
she even makes her costume have red highlights throughout it
will talk in the cliche witches voice
you’ll be getting a drink or washing your hands and she’ll come up behind you with her hands out and fingers bent
“i’ll get you my pretty”
it actually scares you because you’re not expecting it
you whip your body around, about to attack the intruder behind you when you just see wanda there and she starts laughing at your reaction
she draws the line at the cackle you ask her to do
at one point you run around on your brooms, zooming through different people
makes sure to stay home earlier in the night so she can pass out candy to trick or treaters
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all photos used were found on pinterest ❤️
buy me a coffee ♡
219 notes · View notes
starrycassi · 8 months
Text
Ambrosius's (indirect) champion.
Find part one here
"It's oficial. You've gone crazy"
Ambrosius, who feels thrilled with his idea, scoffs. In a quick move, he drags Ballister down to the bed, pulling him by the wrists, making the boy's head fall directly in his own chest. Had this been practice, he knows he probably would've gotten a punch to the ribs in retaliation. But they are in private, they are just teens, and Ballister allows his boyfriend to drag him down.
"Don't call me that, babe" Ambrosius whines, while Ballister tries to regain some of his dignity by lifting himself up with his arms to establish some sort of distance. "I'll cry"
"Ambrosius, this is not funny" finally managing to get on his hand and knees, Ballister stares down at his boyfriend, frowning. "This is incredibly concerning and serious"
Ambrosius pouts for a second, and giggles to himself after giving Ballister a quick kiss on the lips. He is scared, oh, so scared. He wants to cry and run and scream and punch and the best alternative he has right now is to be pretend to be charming with his boyfriend, but every good thing must come to an end, and he has to face reality.
They sit down, again, in the bed, face to face. Ambrosius's sudden burst of energy leaves as fast it came, leaving him with a dull sense of... confusion. Nothingness.
"You haven't heard my plan" he tries to grin at his boyfriend, hoping that his eyebags aren't nearly as big as he feels them be. "Come on. Let me tell you, and then you can say no"
They look at each other for some seconds, and Ballister gives in, the second Ambrosius brings out his best card on the whole deck: tears.
Crying on command is a pretty useful skill to have, Ambrosius's come to find out. He doesn't go all the way out with it, no this time, but he knows his eyes are watery and his nose is red. Ballister looks away, groaning.
"Fine!" He resigns, throwing his hands up to the heavens. "But if your plan is "something, something, we win" again, I'm out. I'm so out. You're going to have to ask Todd for help"
Ambrosius gasps, offended at the barbarity his boyfriend just said. How dares he? The old "fuck it, we ball" plan has never let them down, but this isn't the moment to bask in the glory of all of their past accomplishments.
"Okay, so..." he starts, taking in a big breath of air. This is going to be long, and troublesome. Sometimes he's sorry for Ballister, who has to learn all of this things as they go, unlike him, who's been memorizing the rules ever since he learned to read. "The duels, right. Not all noble families train their kids to be knigths. Not all knights are heirs, either. If you have an older sibling or just aren't the favor, then you're probably not a heir. Follow me?"
Ballister, who loves learning about new stuff, even if it's nobility rubbish, nods along, "Follow you"
"I am the sole heir of the family, so I have obligations. You already know this. One of those is to keep up alliances and all that stuff"
Nodding again, Ballister chuckles a bit. Of course he knows. He's been there to witness every single event that's happened ever since Ambrosius finally turned old enough to go to balls and shit as an actual member of the upper society, or whatever it is they call themselves.
"We have many allies made by old marriages, debts, whatever. If one of them asks something of me, then it usually really just falls on me to say no. Unless they put up conditions"
Ambrosius licks his lips, grabbing his boyfriend's hands and looking at him straight in the eyes. How wonderful they are, Ballister's eyes.
"Now is when it gets kinda hard, so bear with me. Mom's been saying no to everyone who wants to form an alliance by marriage. Don't make that face, Bal. It's not really a lovely affair as much as it is legal papers, for a lot of people. But if all of my allies get along and decide to put conditions on me, then we're obligated to answer"
"That's so, so bullshit"
"It really is. Specially because, since we have so many allies, they usually never get along for long enough to actually make and write a demand, but I guess I'm just that hot and everyone wants to bed me. Too bad I'm already in love with what my allies would probably qualify as a disgraceful street rat"
Ballister blushes, playfully shoving Ambrosius on the chest.
"They would get a heart attack, don't you think? If they knew about me and you"
"They would get a heart attack if they knew I'm gay. They would get a heart attack if they knew I'm a tube baby because my mom loathes my dad. They would get a heart attack if they knew I eat chocolate cake sometimes. Don't feel special" shrugging, Ambrosius continues, "So, they are threatening to call off a lot of agreements and stuff if I don't answer their demands, which, like, mature much? Not my fault all of their heirs look like horror creatures.
So, Mom, being Mom, decided to have me answer with a tournament, because apparently she believes I'm Hercules or something. I would traditionally have to fight with every single person who asked for my hand in a stupid sword duel and bla bla bla, but that would take forever, Bal. So, they came to an agreement. People fight each other, and whoever wins, figths with me"
"That sounds... extremely complicated" cringing a bit at the lengths people would go for a chance to figth with his boyfriend, Ballister grimaces. Bunch of weirdos.
"I'm not some easy harlot, Ballister. You offend me. Of course trying to marry me is complicated. But, wait, now's where it gets interesting"
"Now? Just now? This whole thing is nuts"
Ignoring him, Ambrosius takes two pillows and places one if front of the other. "There are people who can fight me and expect to win" he says, pointing to one of them. "And people who can't but want the marriage"
"So, a lot of families don't have knights. A lot of knigths aren't heirs. Even if a family has a heir that would marry me, they could just be a scholar or something. All knights are nobles..."
"Except me, clearly"
"Yeah, well. Most knigths are nobles, but a bunch of nobles aren't knigths. Like the Queen and such."
"And this is important because...?"
"Because families are going to choose champions, now. Wich means, they can just find a random good figther who's willing to commit to life to me and make them fight. Mom tried to make it so only noble heirs could enter, but they said no. You only have to represent a noble family, and there can only be one fighter per family. Wich means, you can simply sign up and beat everyone up!"
He throws his hands up in the air, a pinched smile on his face.
"You forget a very small but important detail, Amber" Ballister sighs, rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hands. "I'm neither noble nor a heir, and no family is going to choose me as a champion. You might actually need help from Todd on this one"
Ambrosius suddenly comes to a stop, blinking.
"I would sooner kill myself than marry Todd Disgusting Sureblade. Never. Nuh-uh. Not even if we were the last two men left in the planet. You know how some girls swear they can switch gays guys to the other team? I'm throughly convinced that Todd actually has the power to do so. Leave me alone with him in a room and I come out both a killer and ready to settle down with a woman. Hell, we'll have kids, even. Don't ever joke about that, Ballister. I'm going to have nightmares, tonight"
Cackling, Ballister pretends to apologize, while his boyfriend rambles about how horrifying it would be, to be around Todd every day of his life, and how death would be mercy if anyone ever was to ever be on that situation.
Ambrosius finally stops, clearing his throat to stop Ballister from dying of asphyxiation, "With that settled, I would like to point out that my family can't choose you because I have to represent the Goldenloins. Not because I don't want. But there's still someone, Bal. Someone who's childless, a noble, and probably would love to help us out in this"
Ambrosius's next words convince Ballister of the fact that, yes, Captain Gloria surely drank too much whiskey while she was pregnant, because there's something deeply wrong with this man's brain.
"We're going to ask formal help from the Queen. And we're going to do it right now"
He should've stayed at that orphanage. Things would've been easier.
˗ˋ ♡  ˊ˗
Ballister fixes his shirt, and then does so again. Next to him, Ambrosius is doing a pretty good job at pretending to be calm, but his lips are going to start bleeding in any second if he keeps munching on them like that, and his hands shake ever so slightly.
"If the speech doesn't work out" he whispers to Ballister, while they walk down the marble corridors of the palace, "then you put on your best puppy eyes. Pout and all. I'm bringing out the waterworks. Ugly crying, if needed. Gloreth, I'll fake-faint if it comes to that"
Ballister's pretty sure that the speech they wrote and tried to memorize on the two hours it took to get here (asking for permissions at the institute, getting into a carriage, arriving at the palace, getting the secretary to make them the next meeting using Ambrosius's status) isn't nearly good enough to convince the Queen to get involved in this mess, so he tries to remember the saddest moments in his life. There's a lot. He definitely feels ready to cry and beg.
They reach the Queen's office (because, apparently, queen's do have offices) and are welcomed by two palace guards that open up the wood doors for them to come in.
The place is wonderful. Not rich-people wonderful, it's soul-crushing, life-changing beautiful, instead. Everything is so white and golden and blue and shiny and ethereal.
In the middle of it, the Queen is seated, smiling softly at them. They both kneel down, knigth training and actual admiration manifesting in the gesture.
"Gentlemen" she greets, placing her joined hands on her desk, and they stand up straight, standing still, waiting for orders, her orders, always ready to obey to her, "you may sit down"
They do so.
Ballister's bones are trying to crawl out of his skin, and his whole face itches with nerves.
"Thank you, for receiving us in such short notice, Your Majesty" says Ambrosius, voice full with feeling. He's better at the whole "being social" thing.
"It is refreshing to see young faces on the palace grounds every once in a while" she responds, in that weird way formal people talk when they're trying to say something without saying it. "And I am honored to have two of my best cadets in here today. I have to ask, though, as to what situation do I owe the pleasure of such a distinguished visit? Specially a dual one"
"The honor is all ours" adds Ballister, who doesn't want to feel useless in the conversation, even if he feels incredibly out of place in the dances the nobility follows when they talk, when they breath, when they live.
"We come here with a plead," explains Ambrosius, and he suddenly looks older. Serious, worried, solemn. His voice is deep, calm, "One that would benefit both of us, and for which we require your help."
The Queen hums softly, slightly rising an eyebrow. "What sort of plea my I aid you both in?"
"I don't want to get married" blurts out Ambrosius, straight to the point. Ballister asked him, on the carriage, to be honest with this. He knows how... creative the Goldenloins can get when they want something, and he feels like the Queen deserves the truth. Even if it's a slightly dramatized version of it. Plus, being bold will surely add to the element of surprise.
"Excuse me?" The Queen looks clearly put off at the words, loosing her elegant demeanor for a second, "Come again?"
Seeing her eyebrows frown and her vocabulary change so abruptly, Ambrosius clears his throat, hiding a smile. Their plan seems to be going well.
"I don't want to get married" he repeats, enunciating every word, "And I'm being forced to engage in an obligated tournament for those purposes, Your Majesty"
He gives her a second to understand the words, to take the information in. In those seconds, Ambrosius remembers that one time he thought Ballister hated him, back when they were twelve, and tries to pour all the sadness he felt on his voice.
"Of course, I presume Your Majesty is aware of how vicious and outdated some traditions are" quickly, he glances down at Ballister, who's also putting on his best kicked lost helpless puppy performance, "but I am still subjected to them, as a heir."
The Queen is the Queen, but even her can't change the rules that noble families uphold each other to. That's not what they want, anyway. She nods, looking worried. Bingo.
"That's why I want to help him" cutting in, Ballister stammers a bit, like Ambrosius instructed him to; for extra empathy points, he said, "We've come up with a plan. It's not perfect, but..."
"... it's the best we can do" Ambrosius finishes, following his cue.
Now, they both stare at her, identical sad smiles plastered on their faces. If Ambrosius is as good with people as he claims to be, then they already have her heart in the bag. They just need to get her brain on it.
"And how can I help?" She asks, and both knigths know they've kit the jackpot in the instant her voice comes out. She sounds so much like a preocuppied mother. Ballister feels slightly guilty, slightly wishful. "How may I aid you both, on this quest?"
"We need someone to sign me in" Puppy eyes. Puppy eyes. Think sad thoughts. "No one else but you can do it, Your Majesty. I am a commoner, and the families despise me"
They're not even lying. Most nobles do despise Ballister. They're just... putting some heart onto the delivery of the news.
"He's my last resource" Ambrosius is about to cry. Teary eyes, red cheeks, trembling words. Such an actor. "My mommy can't do it because she's my own family, and I am so scared, Your Majesty. Marriage is the least of my concerns..."
He leans in to her, even if it's only the three of them in the room.
"Just... just, you know, thinking about what someone with control over me could ask for, gives me chills," and, to spice some politics in, he whispers to her, "there's so many things my mom would give over for me. Money, land, jews... Gloreth, even alliances, or debts. There's a lot of power tied into the family, and if I'm allowed to be honest, I fear for what would happen if all that rested in the hand of someone evil. Some villain. Some monster.
It's a well known secret that the Goldenloins could match the royal family in influence, in power. They're probably a bit over them, if one were to actually measure the impact they have on the people, on the kingdom. Ambrosius couldn't care less about this knowledge, but the Queen should be able to recognize a threat when it's in front of her.
She blinks once, twice. Ballister makes a show of giving Ambrosius a handkerchief for his tears, and he takes it with an apology for his horrible demeanor.
"I see why you've come to me," she finally speaks up, eyes fixed on them, "and I am glad that you did. This is an urgent matter. I am deeply troubled to see you in this state, Goldenloin"
Ambrosius mutters a quick thank you, still "too emotional" to talk.
"And I am glad to learn that the bond between my star knights is as strong as the walls that protect this kingdom. You both are what keep my people safe, after all"
Ballister's never been so proud to be compared to a wall as he is right now. It's wonderful.
"To show you my gratitude for your hard work, I will agree. Ballister, you can fight in representation of the noble house of Elpis, as my champion. Any armor or other supplies needed will be provided, too"
Thank Gloreth and every single saint ever for Ambrosius's manipulative ass. He's so in love with this dramatic wreck of a man. Thank Gloreth and every single saint ever for Queen Valentin's tendency to go against tradition. He's so grateful to have been born under her regency.
They both thank her, deeply, multiple times, bowing their heads. Ambrosius even sheds some more tears and wipes them off with urgency.
Then, the Queen stands up, and they follow suit, ready to leave with their victory. Before they can go, however, she shoots them a question, one that they didn't come prepared for
"You both are aware, I pressume, of how the nature of your... bond, could affect this tournament?"
Stop. Pause. What did she say? Whatdidshesay?
They look at each other, completely out of track. This time, she is the one with the upper hand. And they're so fucked. Seeing as how their silence continues, she speaks, again
"Your romance" she clarifies, and Ambrosius's choke on his own saliva isn't fake. Ballister goes so red his face burns, and, out of instinct, he hits his boyfriend on the back to try and stop his death. He hits a little too hard, but it works.
"Excuse us?" Screeches Ambrosius, high pitched, "Our what?"
"You must be confused" says Ballister at the same time, feeling like a very dumb caged animal. They didn't plan this. He's got no idea what to do next. "Ambrosius and I don't-"
"We would never-"
"We couldn't even be together! I'm just some commoner and he is..."
"Don't talk about yourself like that"
"Amber, this is not the moment to-"
"I won't let you be mean to yourself in front of the Queen"
The woman in front of them chuckles, amazed at their idiocy. They both blush even more, if that's possible. They suck at this whole "pretending to be single" thing.
"You're adorable" she coos, and Ambrosius is ready to change his name and move towns, "You remind me so much of Derek and me, back when we were young"
She brings up dead husband, as if this isn't weird enough already.
"Surely, you know that if people take notice of this, and Ballister does end up winning — like I have faith he will — they could argue that the tournament has been rigged by the Goldenloins"
They look at each other, bewildered. They never even considered that possibility. The Queen chuckles some more.
"I trust you would come up with a way to deal with that problem, Mister Goldenloin. Your mother's always had her way with schemes and theatrical dramas, and I am fairly sure that I just witnessed one of your plans in action, didn't I? Was any of what you said true, cadets?"
Of course. Of course. Of curse that, The Actual Queen, who's probably been working alongside Captain Gloria her whole life, would notice. Perhaps they didn't plan this as neatly as they could've. But they had less than a day to come up with the whole thing, so.
"I really, really don't wanna get married or have to obey to someone" argues Ambrosius, pouting. "Specially to some older weirdo"
"And I really, really don't want him to marry or have to obey to someone" agrees Ballister, apologetic. "Specially some older weirdo"
After considering them for some seconds, she nods again, agreeing to keep her word. Seeing no point on subtlety, they hug each other quickly, to celebrate.
"We're going to give back every penny you spend on Bal in this whole thing, swear to Gloreth" promises Ambrosius, one hand drapped along his boyfriend's back, "when he wins, I'm throwing a party, and you are so invited", quickly, he adds, "uh, Your Majesty, ma'am"
She lets them go after discussing some minor details, and they beam all the way out of the palace.
"I told you my plan would work" Ambrosius puffs out his chest like a proud peacock once they're on the carriage back to the institute, texting Gloreth knows who on his phone, "We're irresistible"
"She only agreed because you asked her. No one says no to a Goldenloin, Amber"
Ballister stretches, already tired. This whole thing has been draining. He's so ready to go back to the institute and join classes again. If this carriages hurries up, they might get there in time for sword training before lunch, his favorite part of the day.
"Talking 'bout Goldenloins..." trails off Ambrosius, playful smile painted on his lips, playing with the phone on his hands, "what you say we go talk to my mom now?"
"Absolutely no way-"
"Too bad" he interrupts him, placing his hand over Ballister's lips, "already told her we're on our way. She asked to chefs to prepare us something tasty"
Fuck this kid and his lack of self control.
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writingduhh · 6 months
Text
Jschlatt Halloween / Fall HC’s
I hope this is all right… LOVE YOU GUYS SM THANKS FOR READING ❤️❤️
Pairing: Schlatt x Y/n
Type: Fluff
▷ You and schlatt enjoy teasing each other as you brainstorm costume ideas. Schlatt might suggest something outrageously silly, like a giant banana, while you counters with a proposal for a matching peanut butter jar… (if you know you know..) After much laughter and playful banter, you’d settle on your quirky and obscure, couple's costume.
▷ Insisting schlatt wears at least one of the multiple flannels you had bought him. After all, he looked like a handsome lumberjack… 🫣
▷ You can't get enough of pumpkin spice, so Schlatt goes along with it, sometimes pretending he hates it. You indulge in pumpkin spice lattes, pumpkin pie, and even attempt to make pumpkin spice-flavored dinner dishes. It's all in the name of celebrating the season, even if Schlatt makes sarcastic remarks about it.
▷ Each Halloween you and schlatt have a pumpkin carving contest… We’ll, more like a race with this boy. After the set time runs out it’s time to reveal your masterpieces. Schlatt’s is always entertaining to see the least…
▷ Being known for his bravery and ruggedness, Schlatt insists on visiting a haunted house. Though you weren’t too keen on haunted houses, you gave in to his enthusiasm.
"I'm so nervous," you whispered, clutching Schlatt's arm tightly as you both ventured through the large entrance of the haunted attraction.
“Don’t worry hun, I’m here.” He smirks, snaking an arm around your waist before pulling you close.
As you wandered through the park, actors in elaborate costumes often approached you. Yet, their initial enthusiasm would dim once they caught sight of Schlatt's intimidating, stern expression, making them rethink any plans of startling you. It was the least he could do, knowing you had already reluctantly agreed to go in the first place.
And then came the pivotal moment – the entrance to the haunted house. Your reluctance to enter was palpable, and Schlatt recognized it immediately. With a reassuring squeeze of your hand, he offered a tight-lipped smile, silently letting you know that he was there to protect you.
The haunted house loomed ominously ahead, filled with dark corridors, eerie soundscapes, and costumed actors eager to terrify. Yet, with Schlatt at your side, you found a newfound sense of confidence. As you stepped across the threshold into the chilling unknown, you knew that you had a loyal protector by your side, determined to make this spine-tingling adventure as enjoyable as possible.
“Wow, that was actually really fun!” You admit, walking hand in hand out of the haunted amusement park.
Schlatt couldn’t help but smugly smile knowing his tough guy persona had paid off.
“I told ya toots, I’m always here.” He grinned, kissing your cheek.
▷ To end each October day, the two of you curl up in bed and listen to a scary story podcast. Schlatt jokingly dismisses the stories as "not scary enough," while he discreetly clings onto your torso.
▷ Due to the cooling effect of autumn, you find yourself ‘stealing’ schlatts hoodies more than usual. Once he takes not of this he definitely starts buying more hoodies, making sure there’s always an extra one for you to take.
▷ Once Halloween night comes to a close, the two of you curl up together on the couch, exchanging candies and stories about their Halloween adventures. Schlatt might jokingly complain about you’re "stealing" all the best treats, leading to adorable candy-sharing moments and sweet smiles.
▷ As the nighttime slowly starts bleeding into daylight you both decided it was time for bed.
“Cmon, get up lazy bones.” Schlatt grumbles, stretching his arms as he got off the couch.
“Mm no. I’m too comfy. “
With a playful sigh, schlatt gingerly scooped you up in his arms. “Alright sleepy (girl/boy/babe.) Let’s get you to bed.” Contently you rested your head on his shoulder as he gently carried you to your shared bedroom.
Once in your bedroom, schlatt softly placed you down before laying beside you. Instinctively he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close to his chest.
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alisblackgf · 2 years
Note
I have a The Quarry request ! :)
Could you write a Dylan x reader (maybe gender neutral so everyone can enjoy it ? :)), in which Dylan makes a playlist for the reader, please ? Thank youuuu <3
AWW THIS IS SO SWEET, OFC I CAN!
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pairing: dylan lenivy x gn!reader (childhood best friends to lovers)
trigger warnings: none <3 pure fluff (yes AGAIN)
summary: during the counselors’ free time, two inseparable best friends use it to hang out with each other; and one uses their musical knowledge to confess.
taglist: @evaavaughn @sweet-daisies @tywrites @walkingus @yawagucci @rainbows-dreams @chibizzz @asiabrooks132 @wxrifxstxriia (your tags weren’t working, im sorry!) 
(to apply to the taglist, click here!)
im feeling a bit evil today...i might write an angst fic after this one! ALSO IM SORRY FOR MAKING SO MANY CONFESSION FICS MY GOODNESS I SWEAR I’LL USE A NEW IDEA SOONER OR LATER
also let’s pretend the counselors didn’t have to turn their phones in, okay? wonderful!
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you sat at a picnic table located outside, zoned out. you were waiting for your childhood best friend to arrive, as you had arranged where you’d meet for your free time. while waiting, you thought hard about your feelings towards him. how things would be if you dated, and if you should confess. you shook away the thoughts because you had been friends ever since your moms popped you out, and you didn’t want to ruin your friendship.
you heard footsteps behind you, but you didn’t pay attention to them until a familiar voice followed along.
“hey, missed me?” dylan started.
“finally, i was starting to think you weren’t gonna show.” you laughed as you got up and led him to the table. “ladies first!” you winked at him. he rolled his eyes but sat down and you sat next to him.
“sorry for taking forever, my music needed me.”
“more than i do?” you teased.
“(y/n), light of my life, nothing on planet earth could ever need me more than you do.” he teased back. you rolled your eyes and laughed. “and vice versa.” he whispered to himself. of course you heard him, and you were shocked that he sounded so serious. you didn’t tell him you heard what he said, because you didn’t want to embarrass him.
“moving on,” you shook your head, smiling. “what music were you listening to?”
he looked a bit embarrassed and hesitant.
“i’m not gonna make fun of your music taste, if that’s what you were thinking.” you reassured him. he looked at you and smiled.
the music wasn’t for him, it was for you. dylan had been spending weeks and weeks picking songs, deciphering the meaning of them, and seeing if the rhythm was spectacular before even thinking about putting them in your playlist. of course the songs were corny, but they had to be good too. after all, he was planning to confess to you with them. 
usually he was great with his words, and would’ve gone for it. if it weren’t for you. you guys have been best friends for so long, and he didn’t want to ruin that. you’ve been with him through thick and thin, and he didn’t want you to leave. even if the cost was having to be seen as “just a friend” to you. but right now, he was ready. he had to get this off his chest. plus, he could just give you the link to the playlist and run off, if you texted him that you didn’t feel the same, or didn’t text at all, he’d back off. with this in mind, he felt confident enough to let you know how he felt.
“hellooooo? is dylan in there?” you knocked gently on his arm as if he were a door.
“huh? what?”
he quickly snapped out of it and sent the link to you.
“you have the link. now i have to go, my dear (y/n), but do not worry. i’ll be back for you.” he winked at you and sped-walked away. he almost ran, he wanted to be as far as possible from you when you read the playlist description.
you got your phone out and checked the notification. weirdo <3 sent a link
you sighed and turned off your phone for a bit while you pondered. you still had about 30 minutes left of your break, and dylan never leaves early. at least not with you. you feared that he was drifting away from you and it made you queasy. you pushed through your cruel thoughts and opened the link.
your eyes had absolutely widened at the description.
dear (y/n), i couldn’t find a better way to confess to you, so i made you a playlist. what? what could be better than cheesy love songs and your favorite song being the very first song you hear? well, me, of course, but i’m not an option! all jokes aside, i really really like you.
and that was it. you scrolled through the songs and yes, they were indeed cheesy. you laughed at your phone and looked up. you had no idea where dylan was, but you did have your phone. you began to text him.
dylan, come back. i feel the same way.
is all you could manage. anything else and you would’ve spontaneously combusted. you tapped your fingers on the picnic table and waited. dylan arrived soon after and sat down immediately.
“you’re not playing with me are you? because if you are that’s actually very low.” he muttered while making direct eye contact with you.
“i’m not playing with you, swear!”
“prove it.”
and you did just that. you kissed him, and when you pulled away, his eyes were wide.
“is that enough proof for you?” you beamed, ruffling his hair.
“hmmm....nope. i still need to be convinced.” he teased, eyes going back to normal and a smirk forming.
“oh, whatever. come here, then!”
he leaned over so his face was close to yours, and you smothered him in kisses.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 
i love him sm
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sugawhaaa · 11 months
Text
Kwak jiseok x reader
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"Gaon your nails are wet!"
Pairing::sub!Jiseok x dom!fem!reader
Warnings::smut [this is probably one of the nastiest fanfics I've written btw sjsjsj]
Word count:: 1,393
A/N:: I was painting my nails recently and I went to tuck back some of my hair but it was really difficult so I tilted my head in hopes to make it easier, that's when my eyes fell upon my new Gaon poster and I was like 💡idea
Synopsis:: One day your painting Gaons nails when you decide to get a little freaky with him but since his nails are wet, you don't allow him to touch you. This plan goes better than you had planned...
Songs to listen to while reading::
The smell of nail polish and polish remover filled your room as you painted Gaon's nails black, gold, and dark red. He randomly approached you today and asked you to redo his nails. Lately you and jiseok have been painting each other's nails and he really seems to enjoy it. 
As the cold liquid dripped off the small brush onto Goan's nails with the fan running there was silence. Jiseok finally knows that you need focus to make them look good. He sat there as you held his hand in yours. You finally finished painting his nails so now it was time for them to dry. 
"They're done!" You said blowing on his nails in hopes to dry them quicker. You then started packing up the nail polish remover, cotton balls, nail polish etc. Jiseok on the other hand found a strand of his short, black, hair in his face. It was tickling his nose so he went to swipe it away with his hand when you caught his hand. "Your nails are wet! You might get it in your beautiful hair," you said with a wave of your hand. You then tucked his hair back for him. You stood up, your bare feet on your wooden floor and a matching anklet (with Jiseok) around your foot. You set your nail polish pack back on your dresser when you spotted something. It was a little bunny shaped hair tie.
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 Since Gaon's hair seemed to love getting in his face today so you grabbed it and went back over to him. He was sitting in front of the fan making weird robot sounds into it. His hair was blowing out of his face making it the perfect opportunity to tie it back. You sat down behind him and started doing up his hair.
"Y/N what are you doing?" He said in an innocent voice.
"Tying your hair back," You said with a giggle.
"Okay," he said with a shrug of his shoulders and went back to making sounds into the fan. 
"You're supposed to put your hands up to the fan to dry them silly," you said as you wrapped your hands around him.
"But it's so hot out today," he whined, but he put his hands up to it anyway. "Y/N what are you doing?" He chuckled. 
"Hugging you," you said, squeezing him harder.
"Gah Y/N stop!" He put his hands on your arms.
"Wait you can't touch me remember," you giggled and he huffed. That's when an idea sparked in your head. Your hand trickled down his shirt "innocently" and Gaon jumped.
"Y-Y/N?" He said without moving his hands from the fan.
"Yes," you said seductively as you leaned closer to his ear. He shut his eyes as his face filled with pink. 
"Stop, your-ah!" 
You bit down on his neck, not hard or anything, but enough to show him who's in charge here. He whined and whimpered as you left marks all along his neck. That's when you heard footsteps coming from down the hallway and Gaon definitely heard them too. You let go of him and pulled out your phone and pretended like everything was normal.
That's when Jooyeon opened the door.
"Hey, just so you guys know Gunil is trying to cook dinner. It should take about an hour or so," he said as his silver hair hung partly in his face.
"Okay, sounds good!" You and Gaon both gave him a thumbs up and Jooyeon left, closing the door behind him. Jiseok let out a sigh of relief as the door latched, but his relief soon vanished again. You crawled right into his lap faster than light itself. You were essentially feeling him up as he kept his hands glued to the floor because he finally learned his lesson. He just had to let you do whatever the hell you wanted, and it was turning him on. Perhaps too much. 
"Someone's enjoying this," you teased as you continued to place kisses and hickeys all over him. He bit his lip hard and refused to acknowledge your teasing. "Hm, are you not liking this," you said as you traced a circle with your finger on his collar bone.
"What, no, what gave you that impression?" He said looking genuinely upset.
"You're just not responding, perhaps you'd rather praise," you said, putting a finger to your chin to signify your thinking. You could tell by Gaon's expression that your assumption was correct. You couldn't contain yourself anymore and started pulling off his clothes without warning. He may be questioning what you're doing but you both know that he's actually enjoying the hell out of this. You unzipped his Jean shorts pulled them down just enough (along with his boxers)
He was as hard as a rock and he was clearly embarrassed by it. His hand covered his mouth and hot red cheeks. You just smirked and moved on, he isn't anymore aroused than you are right now. You gently touched him between his thighs with your cold hand and he instantly jolted away with a bit of a hiss.
"S-sorry," He blushed at the awkward situation. You just smiled at him and waved your hand to tell him to brush it off. You then spread your across as much of his length as you possibly could making his jaw drop and instantly throw his head back. He bit his hand to cope with the embarrassment of his dirty behavior. 
"Are you quieting yourself?" You said as you slowly moved your hand up and down him as he whined every time you went farther down.
"Maybe," he said before going back to his muffled moaning sounds.
"If you do that one more time I'll stop," you said calmly while he worried.
"Okay I'll be good," he said before blushing again. This whole "good boy," thing was unfamiliar to him. He liked it, he loved calling you mommy and Jiseok loves it when you call him your good little boy. He just doesn't know how to act natural about it. 
You started picking up the pace and the lewd sounds in the room started getting louder which caused Jiseok to start panicking, but it also felt so good at the same time. You started to continuously hit that sweet spot over and over again which just made him melt all over you…literally. 
"Please, please, please," he started begging randomly as his hands hovered over your bare shoulders. He wanted to grab them and knead them so bad but he wanted to keep getting spoiled. As your hand swiftly went up and down his length you tucked some of his loose hair behind his ear and for some reason that's what did it for him. Warm, liquid, arousal coated your hand. You looked down at him in shock. You didn't expect him to cum so early. 
"Oh that's a good boy~" you said seductively using his arousal to help you go faster up his member. He twisted and turned under your now two hands. He was a moaning mess and it made you smile, there was no way in hell the members couldn't hear anything you were doing. Jooyeon and Junhan are probably sobbing right now. For the second time Jiseok's body spiraled out of control and he was so close to grabbing your hair but he decided to hold back. To reward his good behavior you were going to give him a blow job. You sucked on two of your fingers quickly before leaning down to take all of him in your mouth at once. To your dismay, the door opened to a star-stricken Junhan. 
The innocence in his eyes left as his jaw dropped at the sight before him. His Hyungs dick in his girlfriend's mouth as there's cum and spit everywhere, including Jiseoks mouth. 
Without saying a word Junhan shut the door and left.
"I think dinner is done," Jiseok laughed as you sat up properly. You laughed with him and got up. You then asked if you hurt him at all before getting changed.
"Ah," you sighed out of nowhere.
"What?" Jiseok said, turning to you.
"I always make sure to eat treats after supper, but I guess I already did it backwards tonight,"
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pantoneyoongi · 2 years
Text
in love with love (with you) || all for you
series ; in love with love (with you)  description ; you’re a romantic. jungkook? jungkook is not. 
title ; all for you 
word count ; 1.2k
notes ; 
a drabble for the in love with love (with you) series! in which jungkook tries (and fails) to take you on romantic dates - picnic version this time :)
tags ; surprise! hehe, fluff, that’s it really, pls go to main masterlist for more / general tags 
“for the record, i still think this is stupid,” jungkook says it like he’s not fully the one who came up with and planned the whole date in the first place. anybody else and you would take his words to heart but you know jungkook just likes to start shit for the fun of it. 
“stupid cute,” you retort instead, helping him lay out the picnic blanket. you can tell he’s pleased by the response because his lips are twitching, fighting a smile. he’s happy you like his idea even when he’s pretending to be a grump about it. 
there’s a basket of food and a small cooler of drinks. he’s taken you out to the park on a gorgeous day, even brought along a tiny speaker to play music quietly in the background. the two of you set up and settle in, snacking on the carefully prepared sandwiches jungkook had made, packed neatly into bento boxes. 
when you’re content and full, you lay your head on jungkook’s lap. it’s been only a little over two months since he kissed you at seokjin’s gala, so a part of you is still a little nervous when you settle in, in spite of the years of history you already share with him. you try to act as casually as you can, even if your breath is caught in your throat and your body is a little tense. it’s weird being in a relationship with jungkook sometimes. it’s weird liking him this much. 
he peers down at you, head tilted curiously like he’s also confounded that he ended up here with you. the rosy blush on his cheeks gives him away, though. he likes that you laid down in his lap. 
“you gonna start reading a book or something?” he smirks, eyes arched. “o’ fair maiden, lying in the shade of the tree, on her lover’s lap.” 
“shut up,” you lazily smack him in the chest with the back of your hand. “at least i read. unlike someone.” 
“you know, i could solve that problem by having you actually live out the experiences instead,” he mutters, and you roll your eyes, getting comfortable. jungkook is 90% muscle but you’re fairly convinced you could fall asleep like this, his fingers gently brushing against your arm. you don’t think he’s even conscious of the fact that he’s lightly tracing patterns against your skin. in the two months you’ve been together, you’ve learned jungkook doesn’t quite know how to keep his hands off you now that he has free reign of it. always an arm thrown over your shoulder, or a teasing hand messing up your hair. when you’re being especially mouthy back at him (he starts it, and you were sure he did it on purpose before, but you definitely know that he does it on purpose now) - he kisses you quiet. 
so yeah, maybe you let him start it. and maybe you continue the petty debates. if he’s gonna keep kissing you like that, who are you to complain? 
you sigh serenely, eyes fluttering shut, enjoying the warmth of the sun against your skin. it’s a surprise it’s so warm today - the early days of march usually still cling to the cold of winter. but it’s nice out, and jungkook’s comforting presence against you only makes it better. 
with a hesitant hand, jungkook threads his fingers through your hair. “is this weird?” he whispers, like it’s a secret. 
“it’s only weird if you say it like that,” you crack open an eye. “i like it, though.” 
jungkook says nothing in return, trying to hide a smile. he continues to gently run his hands through your hair, a soothing action that leaves you sleepy. he seems satisfied to hover over you, watching your expression slowly relax as you get closer and closer to falling asleep. 
until you feel it. 
your eyes blink open. jungkook blinks back. you squint at him. “did you feel that?” 
jungkook tilts his head, confused. “feel what-” 
then he feels it. 
he narrows his eyes. “no. there’s no way. i definitely checked the weather today-” 
you shriek a little when you feel the rain start to pour down, getting heavier and heavier as the seconds pass. jungkook curses, pulling to your feet and trying to tug the jacket he brought with him over your head, but you push it away, leaving him dumbfounded because one, why, and two, you’re just laughing, the sound so jubilant he forgets that he’s even getting rained on in the first place, too busy staring at the wide grin he’s pretty sure he’s in love with, not that you have to know that just yet. while the other park-goers are hurrying out, trying to find shelter, you’re twirling under the sunshower, eyes lit up like getting caught in the rain is the best thing that’s ever happened to you. 
“y/n!” he calls. “get back here, you’re gonna get sick!” 
you run back to him, suddenly so close jungkook forgets to breathe. you lean up to him, bright and childlike, eyes shining, hair plastered to your forehead. “c’mon, jungkook,” you beam. “haven’t you ever heard of dancing in the rain?” 
you spin away from him again, his lungs filling back up with the air you stole from him. he sighs heavily, a little exasperated but he lets you go, watching you tilt your head back and let the rain soak you through without a single care. 
“you’re insane,” he reminds you. “certifiably insane, princess.” 
when you glance over your shoulder at him, full of mischief and adoration, he tongues his cheek. with a click of his tongue, he mutters, “if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em,” and barrels towards you, sweeping you clean off your feet while you scream, laughing and clinging to him so you don’t get dropped. 
“we’re gonna get sick,” he warns, but he doesn’t make any move to put you back down and clean up the things you brought with you. with the adrenaline you still have from running around in the rain, you move to brush his wet hair away from his forehead, grinning at him. 
“i’ll take care of you, jeon,” you tease. 
“will you now,” he says, bemused, but doesn’t give you a chance to answer, kissing you hard, both of you laughing through it. 
.
.
.
“sorry,” he murmurs hours later, when you’re both toweling off in his apartment, jungkook casting a shy look at you from his peripheral. you so rarely see him like this, a side of him that’s emerged because he wants to impress you, wants to make you happy. “i really did mean to take you on a nice picnic.” 
“it was nice,” you rebut, dropping the towel to hang around your shoulders. “dancing in the rain is on my bucket list.” 
this catches his attention, eyebrows arching. with a tug, he pulls you onto his lap, and this time you’re the one blushing, unsure where to leave your hands and settling for his shoulders. “bucket list,” he muses, tilting his head thoughtfully. his eyes find yours again. “care to share?” 
he grins stupidly at the way you immediately forget your embarrassment of being in his lap to run through your mental list that he’s pretty sure was generated from every movie you’ve ever seen, but he doesn’t care. it’s you. he set up a silly picnic for you, ran around in the rain for you, will put up with the cold he’s inevitably getting later - all for you. 
he’d do just about anything, really. as long as it’s with you.  
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series masterlist ; in love with love (with you) 
taglist ; @ahundredtimesover​ @nadzzzblog @apollukee @codeinebelle​ @yoongimentita7​ @libra04​ @welconme-notreally​ 
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ziggyztarduzt · 14 days
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Yo!
Not sure if you're taking requests at the moment, but if you are can you do a Zevlor x Tav parenting super sweet fluff maybe with a daughter? Thank you!
This is just a little thing, but I love the idea of Tav and Zevlor adopting a child (acquiring a child?), and them raising her in the city with the other tieflings around. :')
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When all was said and done–the Netherbrain was defeated, and Tav’s companions had gone their own way–she stayed in Baldur’s Gate with Zevlor. It wasn’t a surprise, truly. Tav had confessed her affections after freeing him from the Mindflayer pod at Moonrise Towers. She was terrified to lose him again, and she cried as she blamed herself for landing him there in the first place. That night at camp, she and Zevlor laid in her tent as she clung to him desperately, unwilling to let him out of her sight. 
After the final battle, Tav had limped to him and kissed him, tears running down her cheeks as she whispered over and over about him being okay–thank the gods, he was okay. Zevlor could only embrace her and choke back the tears that threatened to fall as she cried against his neck. 
Amidst the wreckage and rubble that the battle left behind, a small tiefling child of only four years old was left sobbing and injured. Tav scooped her up without a second thought and carried her to Shadowheart for healing, and the little girl–Vonda–sniffled and hiccuped while the cleric tended to her. Zevlor recognized her. Her parents were refugees of Elturel who didn’t make it to the city, and apparently she’d been living with other tiefling survivors who had disappeared amidst the chaos. 
Tav took her into the family home she’d inherited in the Upper City, inviting Zevlor to come with her. He accepted her offer without hesitation. Tav’s home was more than spacious enough for the three of them, and Zevlor was pleased when Tav dragged him to her bedroom to sleep after tucking Vonda in during that first evening together.  There were ideas, discussions, and plans laid out for caring for their newly adopted child. Zevlor knew he wanted to teach Vonda how to wield a weapon and defend herself, and Tav wanted to encourage her academics. (Gale had sent a pile of books as a gift, along with a note that read, “It’s never too early to start Vonda on the path of wizardry!”) The pair agreed that both skill sets were important for their young lass to learn, and Vonda was gifted her first small sword and light shield by Dammon. 
Vonda was sweet and quiet at first, always casting her gaze away shyly when Tav spoke to her. She seemed far more comfortable with Zevlor, which was understandable. Who better to seek comfort from than someone who looks the most familiar to you? Tav didn’t take it to heart. With Zevlor, she was far more talkative and excitable, especially when he was teaching her new moves or pretending that she’d vanquished him while he fell into the dirt dramatically. Vonda would squeal and crawl on him until he clamped his arms around her and pretended to capture her. 
It didn’t take long for the little girl to warm up to Tav. Zevlor was encouraging, and soon Vonda was requesting–nay, demanding–that Tav read her bedtime stories while Zevlor stroked her hair. When the little tiefling’s eyes finally closed, they’d each press a gentle kiss to her forehead and tiptoe out of the room. 
Vonda enjoyed accompanying them to the shops, holding each of their hands as they traveled to the Lower City to visit their friends. Dammon’s forge had become a sort-of gathering spot for them, and Vonda would sit starry-eyed as Alfira sang to her, or listen intently when Rolan was explaining things about magic that the little tiefling would certainly not understand. Occasionally, Dammon would let her hit a little hammer against a piece of metal and explain the process of blacksmithing while she stared at him blankly. (Tav was pretty sure Vonda just liked the loud, clanking sound of metal on metal, especially when she was the one making it.) 
Eventually, after more than a year of them caring for Vonda, the little tiefling shuffled out of her bedroom sleepily one morning and reached for Zevlor with her arms outstretched, mumbling, “Daddy…” until he picked up her and pressed a kiss to her cheek. Tav made no mention of the tears that slipped down his face as he carried his daughter to sit for breakfast. 
A few days later, Vonda had popped up in the kitchen while Tav was preparing stew for their supper. She stared up at Tav with large, red eyes as she asked, “Mommy, can I help?” It took everything in Tav’s power not to break down and sob as she handed a potato to their little girl and asked Zevlor to help her chop it up. 
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solarmorrigan · 1 year
Text
The first time Steve babysits is not actually the time he takes up a baseball bat full of nails in aid of finding Henderson’s lost “pet”; it’s when he’s fourteen, when the Ashfords next door lose their sitter at the last minute and come knocking on the Harrington’s door. The Ashfords have lived next door for a few years; they’ve rubbed elbows with the Harringtons at backyard barbecues and have to know that Steve probably isn’t the most mature guy they could be employing for the evening – Steve figures they’re probably a little low on options
Anyway, he agrees to babysit the Ashford girls—twins, age of six—because Mr. and Mrs. Ashford are offering to pay pretty well, and it beats the hell out of doing homework (he brings it along with him, because it looks responsible, but it’s not like he plans on doing it)
Mr. Ashford runs around the house, making sure they have their car keys and theater tickets, while Mrs. Ashford makes sure Steve knows where all the emergency numbers are, where the first aid kit is, and tells him when the girls should be bathed and in bed by. Steve is a little stupefied, because he can’t remember either of his parents ever making sure his sitters had all that information (when they’d still bothered employing sitters), but he does his best to store all the information away
(He also can’t remember the last time both of his parents had hugged him goodbye the way the Ashfords do their kids, but that’s irrelevant)
And then they’re gone for the evening, leaving Steve alone with Libby and Annie Ashford
It’s a little terrifying at first, and maybe Steve hadn’t thought this through, because he has almost zero experience with kids; he doesn’t have any younger siblings, he doesn’t have extended family with kids younger than him, and he’s definitely never babysat before. And yet – it turns out, kids really aren’t that hard
Actually, kids are kind of cool. They’re not tough to please if you just ask them what they want, since usually what they want is either for you to play a game with them (Steve negotiates them down from the imaginary tea party to board games), to watch a movie (Disney isn’t Steve’s usual cup of tea, but it isn’t bad) or something to eat (Steve actually gets thank-you hugs for making grilled cheese; how fucking wild is that)
It probably helps that the girls are pretty well-behaved, and only pretend that Steve is calling them by the wrong names about half a dozen times. They’re clean and in bed by nine, just as instructed. Steve knocks out on the couch while watching TV about an hour later, in spite of Mr. and Mrs. Ashford’s assurance that he could sleep in the guest room, since they weren’t planning to be back until pretty late. He doesn’t expect further responsibilities required of him, but when he’s poked awake a short time later and faced with twin sets of tearful brown eyes, he isn’t enough of a dick to complain
Annie had had a nightmare. She’d woken Libby with her crying, and then Libby had started crying, and now they both want their mom. Steve assures them their mom will be back before too long (he actually has no fucking idea what time it is, but he’s not sure if six-year-olds can tell time anyway, so it’s probably fine) and takes them back up to their room. They all pile onto one stuffed animal-covered bed and Steve figures a story is as good a distraction as anything, so he nabs the nearest book he can find and starts reading
A few hours later, Mr. and Mrs. Ashford find Annie sleeping leaned into Steve’s left side and Libby sleeping leaned into Steve’s right, while Steve snores away between them with the book held limply in his lap. They help him extricate himself from the girls without waking them, thank him with genuine smiles, pay him a little extra for his trouble, and send him home (he pretends he doesn’t feel some kind of warm that Mrs. Ashford watches to make sure he gets to his front door; he’s fourteen, he doesn’t need anyone to watch over him)
All in all, it was a pretty good use of a Friday night. Steve figures he’ll do it again, if they ask him
Except then he makes the mistake of mentioning the night to Tommy and a few of the guys from the basketball team, who immediately jump on him.
“What the hell were you babysitting for?” Jimmy scoffs. “Girls do that, dude.”
“Maybe Stevie was practicing to be a good mommy,” Tommy simpers.
The rest of the guys burst into laughter, and Steve endures a round of “Mommy Steve” jokes before he shoves Tommy and rolls his eyes at everyone else, deliberately unaffected.
“Whatever. They paid me extra for doing it on short notice, and besides,” he smirks at them, “Mrs. Ashford is hot.”
The guys mostly shut up after that, but Steve makes sure to trip Jimmy S. into the lockers next time he tries to call Steve “mommy.”
The next time the Ashfords ask if Steve can babysit, he tells them he’s busy. They don’t ask again
Years later, Steve is surprised by how little he reacts when he tells Dustin, “Call me if your thing ends early, alright? It’s cold and I don’t wanna hear that you got pneumonia or some shit walking home like an idiot,” and Dustin mouths off with a sarcastic, “Yes, mom.”
In fact, Steve only rolls his eyes and gives Dustin a shove. “You show me about as much appreciation as you show your mom, that’s for damn sure,” he says, and drives off with a smile while Dustin is still squawking at him from the curb
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starlitsilvereyes · 1 year
Text
Evergreen
written for @drarrymicrofic's prompt: New Beginning | inspired by Like Real People Do by Hozier | CW: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurities | Read on Ao3
Soft rumbles of thunder emitted from a sky bruised with purple and dark blues. Draco laid beneath it, his head pillowed on a patch of grass. Lips slightly parted, he breathed in the scent of petrichor, reminding him of the storm that there is to come. 
The first droplet of drizzle landed on his cheek, making him flinch. Yet he remained, unmoving as the lake nearby. 
It didn’t take long until it was pouring. His clothes clung to his skin, the ivory linen uncomfortably cold and wet. He knew it was already ruined, stained by the mud and remnants of dried leaves. He would never have the heart to look at it again, knowing what it looked like before. It looked so perfect, almost unreal. 
The clouds cried and cried, cried as though it were tears of grief. Cried as though they were the ones about to lose everything.
When the first blaze of lightning slashed through the sky, Draco could no longer hold his agony. 
And so he cried. Cried and cried until his mouth was dry and his throat hurt. Cried until his eyes burnt like wildfire, a river of tears flowing yet never eliminating the sting. 
Draco almost missed the sound of leather boots sinking on muddy soil. The storm had started to calmed a bit, but his sobs have only gotten stronger. 
He could feel someone beside him–a familiar warmth and the distinct scent of spices and lilies. 
Draco quieted down, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. 
“S’okay.” Harry mumbled softly. Too soft that it almost made Draco weep again. “It’s just me.” 
Draco wanted to say it wasn’t ‘just’ Harry. It was never ‘just’ Harry. It was his home– all that was left of it. 
A hand–too cold for Draco’s comfort, but he didn’t mind–laid on top of his, rubbing the water that has settled on surface of his skin. 
That was when Draco broke down again. 
Almost no sound had left his mouth, only dry heaves as he frantically apologised. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I know I’m not perfect and–” 
“S’okay.” Harry kept repeating, as though it was the truth. “It’s just a ceremony.” 
But it wasn’t just a ceremony. It was supposed to be their wedding. They had it all planned for more than half a year–from the date and venue down to the flowers scattered along the secret garden. 
Draco waited all his life to marry Harry. But as he stood at the end of the altar–looking back at Harry’s handsome face–Draco knew he deserved none of it. 
And so he turned his back before he could fully watch Harry’s fallen expression, running away from everything he has ever dreamt of. Running away from the life he desperately wanted to hold at the palm of his hands. 
“I’m sorry.” Draco kept repeating. Despite his honesty, the words felt like lies spilling from his lips. He hated himself the most. He hated himself for hurting Harry. 
“S’okay.” Harry echoed. “We shouldn’t have rushed into it. I’m sorry.” 
Draco opened his eyes, squinting at the sudden burn from all the crying. He was met by the sight of Harry, handsomely dishevelled. His clothes just as ruined as Draco’s. 
The truth was, they weren’t rushing into it at all. They had been together for four years until they decided– thought– to get married. It was Draco’s idea, because Harry kept telling him of his dreams to be married and start a family he so longed for. Draco didn’t want to keep him away from that. All he ever wanted was for Harry to be happy, and now he was ruined. They both were. And it was all Draco’s fault. 
“It’s not your fault.” 
It was as though Harry had read Draco’s mind–he probably did. 
“You don’t have to pretend it isn’t,” Draco says, his voice hoarse. He couldn’t look directly at Harry’s eyes. He was afraid of what he might see–afraid of hurting Harry even more. 
Harry takes a shaky breath. “We don’t have to get married.” 
“Harry–” 
“Marriage is just an economical proposition or some shit people made up to get miserable people to stay together.” 
Draco looked at Harry. “We are miserable.” 
“No, we aren’t.” Harry denied, even though they both knew Draco was right. 
They fell silent for a while. The rain finally stopped, light slowly replacing the darkness of the sky. 
“We don’t have to get married now,” Harry says. Draco could tell he was hurting, and all he wanted to do was to take Harry’s pain away and give it to himself. He would take Harry’s pain even if they were sharp knives; even if they were the worse of curses; even if it were the kiss of death. But Draco knew couldn’t, not when he was the one causing Harry pain. 
“But it’s your dream,” Draco replies softly, full of regret. 
“You are my dream, Draco.” Harry’s bottom lip quivered, as though he was just as frustrated as Draco was to himself. “And if you aren’t ready for marriage now, we can do it later. When we’re both a little bit older and wiser…” He trailed off. “Hell, we could never do it even.” 
“Harry–” 
“Marriage means nothing if it’s not with you.” Harry reached out, cupping Draco’s face with his hands. “And I can wait, I promise. For as long as you want– need– even if it takes me a hundred lifetimes.” 
“And what if I’m never ready?” Draco asked. He thought he’d never been more afraid of saying something until this moment. “What if I’m not fit for marriage?” 
“You are not obliged to marry me,” Harry said, firm as though he had been so sure of his decision all his life. “I mean it when I say we could never get married and I’d still love you.” 
Warmth blossomed within Draco. He loved Harry too, he always will. 
“Whether you’ll ever be ready or not, I still love you.” Harry whispers, as though he was keeping a secret. “And if the time comes, I’ll be here waiting. I’m a patient man, Draco. I would wait longer than forever for you.” 
Draco laughed wetly, pressing a kiss against Harry’s lips just to keep him from promising things Draco didn’t deserve. He kissed Harry harder and pulled him closer, even though he didn’t deserve it. To him, Harry would always be too good to be true, too good to be his. 
He knew he didn’t deserve a lot of things, but Harry deserved everything . Harry deserved to be held, through his worse and better days. He deserved to wake up in a soft bed, his body wrapped in warm blankets, pressed against the one he loves. He deserved a cup of freshly brewed coffee against his lips every morning; his fingertips stained with pigment as he painted the most beautiful scenery there was to exist. 
Harry deserved to be loved . And so Draco loved him– loves– and will love him for as long as he lived, for as long as he could, for far longer than the end of time. 
Draco wasn’t certain about many things, but he was certain that he’d love Harry, even after the last of his breath, even after the last of the stars have finally dimmed their light. Even if he’ll never be ready.
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tiredassmage · 7 days
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SWOOPS IN
Tav Questions for Leo: 3, 4, 8, 9, 11, 21 and 22
GIGGLES! I knew you'd be at it! I'm still not too far into his run, so I had to let these marinate a little and get a bit further along in Act I to get a bit more data.
[30 Questions for Your Tav!]
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3. Did your Tav receive any formal or informal education? If yes, how well did they learn? If no, why not?
So far I’m thinking to still diagnose him with unloved by rich parents syndrome, as per the textposts pile, lol, so, yes, I imagine Leo experienced some level of formal education; the family is well-known enough for their business endeavors in Baldur’s Gate, but probably less recognized than his father’s puffed chest might long to suggest and maintain. I think Leo’s a bit of a fan of stories as escapism in that sense; I’m playing him on College of Valor Bard, but his “education” in that regard is more likely to have come from tavern tales at the Blushing Mermaid and escapades to Sharess’s Caress. The other class I had briefly entertained was Wizard, so perhaps that’s where his family would’ve preferred he spent his time honing more of his talents versus where he really ended up. I think he likely finished most of his basic education with tutors and whatnot in the city before one of many, many arguments about Leo’s life choices finally saw him run out and fall in with less scrupulous crowds.
His martial training then is almost entirely informal - picked up from tavern brawls, pirates, and smugglers that became more and more of his common company in more recent years, until finally they became about his only primary company once he left his family. He knows enough to read and write well, and he’s absorbed some measure of history, but he wouldn’t self-describe as well-read and he’ll leave investigating every dusty tome in abandoned cathedrals and dilapidated towns to Gale’s ambitious nose. Ultimately, I think I’d call him a bit more street-wise than book-smart, but I also wouldn’t want to oversell either, exactly. The many fights at home make him a bit easily irritable at times and patience isn’t a particularly strong virtue of his. More than anything, he’d probably best be described as of a college of fucking around and finding out, frankly.
4. What hobbies does your Tav have? How did they acquire these interests?
Leo enjoys a game of cards and oral storytelling, though the latter might be something of a given with his class, lol. A lively tavern scene in the evening was a place to explore expression and live more out-of-bounds and it’s informed a lot of what Leo is currently. The art of the improvised, cutting insult was almost as good a defense as a sharpened dagger when he first started to jab elbows and shoulders with the kind in the Lower City those of the Upper would generally rather pretend don’t exist. Huddled around tavern bards, he’d hear colorful tales of adventure and exploration that planted the idea with him that it might be an alternative to the suffocating demands of power and prestige in the city.
8. Did your Tav have any romantic and/or sexual relationships prior to their Illithid adventure? If yes, who was it with and what was it like? If no, how do they feel about being single?
I’m still kind of hammering out the details and the whens, the hows, the whos, etc. of exactly what life was like for Leo before the mindflayers came and turned everything upside down, but the short answer is yes. One of Leo’s later frequent locations before a plan to leave Baldur’s Gate entirely started to take any sort of shape was Sharess’s Caress. Lured by not exactly the most honest crowd to such locales, Leo found sharing company in the arms of another man far more preferable to gritted teeth pleasantries with fair maidens at noble gatherings - something he’d generally have preferred to keep perhaps a bit more under lock and key. Not all of those experiences were exactly positive in that regard, and they play a hand in the kind of crowd he hung out with when he finally abandoned (or was run out of, depending on who you ask) Upper City living - smugglers, thieves, pirates - the likes of which taught him how to bargain and the power of a manipulative word perhaps better than any tutoring on dinner table manners and politics ever had.
One may have been the exception to Leo’s generally… questionable choice of company, however - a fellow bard with bright green eyes and hair the shade of a vibrant sunset over the docks. His chiding on Leo’s typical choice of company was usually accompanied with a kiss… or a handful of them. And worried eyes would often linger around the edges of the tavern songs they learned together. Neither of them were sure where they would go if they left, but… maybe… if they did…
Unfortunately, life isn’t exactly like the fairy tales, is it?
9. What was your Tav doing when they were taken by the mindflayers?
Trying to survive, as the short answer. While Leo wouldn’t exactly claim he’s a gifted liar or even a performer (generally), if nothing else, he’s got an odd brand of luck, maybe. A roundabout talking in and out of situations that came in handy and was honed when he found himself keeping the company of smugglers to have place to put his head down at night, shorn of the noble trappings that had initially raised him (or claimed it, at any rate). With the failed idealization of disappearing into the wilds of the realm still bitter and aching on his lips, Leo’s nothing if not a creature of habit. There was a lot about his life aiding smugglers (and possibly dubiously owing some connection to the Zhentarim about it) that wasn’t exactly not broken, but it was… working. Sort of. For the moment. It was a hell of a more appealing option than trying to crawl home and grovel for some biting form of ‘forgiveness’ for spurning the rest of his family, at the absolute least. At least he knew where he stood when someone put a dagger to his throat, eh?
11. What would your Tav consider to be their greatest flaw? Is this accurate?
Leo’s list of personal accusations is… fairly extensive. Unreliable of judgement, more coward than could be respectable, at the very least selfishly interested in keeping his own life. He’s a far harsher critic than need be, but there’s… a kernel of truth to his penchant for making ill-advised decisions. He could benefit a lot from giving himself a bit more grace that a lot of his more “questionable” decisions are motivated out of some flavor of fear (and who wouldn’t be overwhelmed when faced with a mindflayer invasion and a growing cult to some new god you’ve never heard of [no, he didn’t pay that great of attention to his history lessons, but how much does that really matter right now?!]). His biggest trouble maker is generally the whole package of misconstrued flaws and blame; Leo’s lack of… confidence? kindness? For himself usually leads him deeper into a cycle of acting in ways that fit the narrative of selfish, skittish, short of patience, and whichever other unflattering monikers he deems fit for the day than allowing him some space to recognize such fears and needs for a place to belong or fit in root from a not particularly supportive youth spent failing to meet lofty and often cutting expectations, mostly set by his father.
21. How does your Tav feel about love?
A darling subject for songs. Everyone loves a good ballad. He’d rather down several pints of questionable and not even particularly good ale than wrangle with the feeling in his chest that spawns from hearing the word and the memories it sparks of that other bard he spent a not insignificant amount of time learning from and spending time with. It’s nice. And it’s sweet - so he hears. It seems tempting to give a lot to enjoy the feeling of someone else’s hand nestled perfectly in one of yours, or to lose track of hours in an evening simply because you’re lost in the stars of their eyes…
What? No, he’s not wistful or hurting or missing anyone in particular. Shut up. How could you? He’s a bard, flowery words for all of this is just what he’s supposed to be good at!
(He’d… love it, to be ungraceful.) To be ungraceful but accepted with another.
He wants it. He tells himself he’ll settle for the mere physical sensations of closeness to another.
Nothing else has ever worked out to plan for him, after all. Might as well let others name the role for him and merely fill it. Maybe he isn’t the smoothest, most charismatic liar or charmer you’ve ever met, but he’s a performer by trade, right? At least he might be good for something, then.
22. Has your Tav become particularly close to anyone romantically and/or platonically in their journey? If so, who, and what is the relationship like? If no, why not?
Well, I’ll say I ruined my sleep schedule to finish the goblin camp last night and Leo’s love life in this party is frankly a fucking mess, which is just about what I expected, knowing him kafnalds;flsdf. I don’t think he knows what he wants yet.
Wyll’s charming - far more a righteous heart than Leo could ever see himself being. He is a darling hero. Those always make for charming songs. He’s sweet. Good. The kind word Leo can’t help but crave to hear. But maybe too good for him. It seems he’s got quite enough going on without adding… whatever… [vague gesturing] Leo’s got going on. The reasonable one, maybe. The type that would be in the thick of goblins and monsters and cultists and trying to save the world. Leo would be lying (and probably poorly, if the blush is to say anything) if he tried to claim he wasn’t interested in seeing the Blade’s dance or sharing a drink sometime. And maybe he’s a little curious what it’d be like to kiss those scars and ridges. Tempting…
Karlach and him need to be friends, I think. Absolutely wonderful, disastrous (positive) friends. Karlach’s just a powerhouse of energy for life - with a heart of adventure, a mouth just as good at ass-kicking as her strength of arms, and really just an all-around kind of alive and kicking that might just be as contagious or more than the heat of her engine. If she wouldn’t entirely singe him, she could absolutely pick Leo clean up off the ground and spin him around. I quite think she will, assuming they can make sure he wouldn’t roast in the process. To give him the opportunity to know what it’s like to be tall, y’know! Friends in hijinks energy.
And I think… Astarion might have his fangs in a bit more than his neck, for better or worse. Part of me wants to say of course you would, Leo. Because… of course he would. I’m not sure it’s genuinely affection and charm just yet - and Leo’s not exactly fully aware of the full scope of scheming it could be, exactly. He’s probably just aware enough that it could be little more than convenience and some sort of play at power or… some such, but he doesn’t particularly… care. At the moment. If it is just that. Which I’d say has the potential to backfire on both of them and accidentally get feelings in the mix if they keep going like this. Leo had sort of resigned himself to the physical nature of it, but there’s an undeniable charm to being called darling that Leo might… just forget to keep his head on straight [as if anything about him is] about.
And I’m… wondering how him and Gale are going to get along in the long run. Something about ambition between the two of them might end up scratching my brain, but it’s a bit too early for me to tell just where they’re going. Given Leo’s absolutely haphazard sense of direction though, that little bit of magic shared one night might’ve left Leo blushing and both of them stumbling a bit for more eloquent speech. We’ll just have to stay tuned for this one.
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Today, Twisted Tales presents... Caterella!
Hi, so 👉👈 THIS IS A SERIES I’VE BEEN MEANING TO WRITE................ . . ....... . . . . . ..... . . ... . .. . . Basically, “Twisted Tales” will be me taking classic fairy tales, legends, folklore, etc. and rewriting them (storybook style!) to exclusively feature the TWST boys in its cast of characters--and since they’re... well, themselves, they end up making the OG stories play out completely differently than the originals!
I don’t know how well received or how much in demand this series will be (or how frequently I can write them), but I figured I’d roll this one out as a pilot/test run? I have ideas for Riddle Red Riding Hood and The (not so) Little Merman in the works! ^^
And so, our story opens...
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Once upon a time...
There lived a well-off family in the Shaftlands. The two eldest were daughters, who loved all manner of cute things and sweets. Meanwhile, the youngest was a cheery, social media savvy son. They got along as well as any siblings would, but the sisters had a tendency to boss their brother around.
Though the youngest was given the name Cater at birth, his sisters had come to nickname him Caterella after their many sessions of playing dress-up and house together. Poor Caterella was always to be their model or their pretend child--and powerless was he to protest their demands.
Magicam was his only escape, his only glimpse into others’ lives.
There, projected upon a shining screen, were glossy images beyond compare. Svelte models, decadent lifestyles, glitz and gold. Friends and families, closely knit. So happy, so free, so perfect.
Caterella was drawn in by it all, and longed to taste it for himself, for he was a sad and lonely young man.
No matter how many thousands of Magicam followers he had, he would always be dwarfed by far bigger influencers and celebrities. Neige, Vil. He would never be enough.
And so the days continued, with Caterella left unhappy and tending to his sisters’ every whim--until, one midsummer, when a peculiar envelope arrived in the mail. It was jet black and edged in neon green bramble.
Prince Malleus Draconia of the Briar Valley is gracing the Shaftlands with his presence. He hereby summons you to his Midsummer’s Ball, the declaration inside read.
A taste of that high-class glamor, just within reach.
It sent Caterella’s sisters into an excited frenzy of party preparations.
Countless hours were spent trying on fancy gowns, holding clusters of jewels to their collars, testing perfumes, pinning their hair, and painting their faces. Every accessory and every part of their outfits had to be immaculate if they planned to woo the prince... and, of course, their brother helped them with every step of it.
“Hey, maybe I can go to that party with you,” Caterella suggested as he tightened the sash on the back of a dress.
“Absolutely not!” crowed his sisters. “What would you even do at the ball, Caterella?”
“I could talk with the prince. He seems like the kind of guy that could hold a decent convo, right?”
His sisters rolled their eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous! Prince Malleus is probably looking for a spouse, not a friend. He’s going to inherit his crown soon, you know.”
“I know, but...” Caterella bit his lip. “Please, just take me with you. I want to see what it’s like there.”
But he was forbidden.
When the dreaded day arrived at last, his sisters climbed into the carriage and departed without him. Caterella stood in a dark, empty house while they were ferried away to a castle brimming with lights and life.
It was a miracle that he could drag himself to his bed. Burying his face in his sheets, he let the tears cascade down his cheeks and soak into the soft fabric.
He wept and wept for what must have felt like an eternity. His eyes were cloaked in such darkness that he took no notice of particles of starlight collecting where he shed his tears.
“Here I am,” announced a voice so soft and mysterious.
Caterella gasped, jerking up to find a bespectacled man dressed in fine suit staring down at him.
“Here I am,” he repeated, throwing his arms out. “Azul Ashengrotto, your Fairy Godmother, at your service. Tell me, my child, what troubles you? What is the cause for your sadness?”
“Oh, Fairy Godmother!!” Caterella bawled, wiping at his eyes, “all I want is to go to the party that the prince is holding tonight. I want to be where the people are! I want to see them dancing, to be a part of it… but my sisters told me I couldn’t go.”
Azul nodded. “And what will you give me in return, should I fulfill your wish?”
“… What?” Caterella’s tears instantly dried at the question. “Aren’t Fairy Godparents like, supposed to be generous and kind? Totally altruistic and super chill?”
“Why, whatever do you mean? This is my altruism, you see—but nothing, not even altruism, comes without a price, nor without consequence. It’s sad, but true.” Azul folded his arms. “I ask you again: what can you offer me in return?”
“Eeeh? Can’t you cut Cay-kun some slack? I’m literally dressed in cinders; there’s no way I can afford to pay you back for sending me to the ball…!”
“How much do you think I get paid for this?” Azul countered, on the defense. “I’m not a charity worker, Caterella-san; I have bills to pay and a stomach that needs feeding too.
“Go ahead. Make your choice. I’m a very busy person and I haven’t got all day. It won’t cost much, I assure you.”
Caterella tensed. “… What do you want from me, if not money?”
“Fufufu. As your Fairy Godmother, I am privy to all sorts of information about my Godchild.” Azul’s gaze trailed to the phone that laid on Caterella’s mattress.
“I believe you are an ‘online influencer’, yes? I would love for you to make a sponsored post promoting the little eatery I run as a side business. This can be done after the ball.”
“… Fairy Godmothers run restaurants?”
“I cannot make a living entirely on aiding poor, unfortunate souls, much as I would love to! Now, as for you shall receive in exchange… I will grant you not only proper attire for the event, but your very own carriage and coachmen, all of them enchanted with an anti-detection spell.
“None of the other guests in attendance shall be able to recognize you after tonight. It will have been just like a dream, and no one will be able to report that you had ever been there to your sisters.”
“What, just a single sponsored post for all of that swag? That’s no biggie. Sign me up!”
“I’m glad you’re so eager.” Azul reached into his coat and produced a fishbone pen and a golden scroll, which unfurled to reveal the conditions he had just listed, primed and ready. At the bottom of the scroll was a hauntingly empty dotted line. He tapped at it with the nib of his pen. “Please sign here if you agree to the terms and conditions.”
Caterella had never done anything so fast in his life. His signature was a scrawl, a blur.
Azul smirked, tucking the contract away for safekeeping. “It’s a Deal.”
Suddenly, Caterella felt the creep of magic at his feet. Silvery sparkles floated up, enveloping his entire body before exploding with a crackle like a firework.
When the light had cleared, he found himself in a pale blue gown with puffy sleeves and a scoop neckline, his full skirt daintily draped. A light dusting shimmery of makeup coated his handsome features, accentuating the green twinkle of his eyes and his impish grin. His hair was pinned up into a bun, loose strands framing his face. 
To finish the look off, Caterella’s feet were adorned in glittering glass slippers, and his phone covered in a case of the same material. Every last inch of him shone like a star.
“Whoooa! Check me OUT!!” he squealed excitedly. (Caterella immediately whipped out his phone to take a celebration selfie.) “Am I hot, or am I HOT?!”
Azul coughed into a fist. “Yes, yes, quite. Now, as for your transportation… it has already been arranged for you. Right this way, Princess Caterella.”
He laid a hand on Caterella’s shoulder and gently guided him to the front porch. When the door swung open, they were greeted by a silver carriage, a pristine stallion mounted to it. Two coachmen—mirror images of one another—hovered, one at the helm, reins in hand, and the other holding the carriage door open.
“Took ya long enough to close the deal,” the driver called with a maniacal cackle. “Can we go now? I’m hella bored!”
“Patience, Floyd,” chuckled his doppelgänger. “We mustn’t rush our client.”
“Sweet, looks like I’ll be crusin’ in style!!” Caterella carefully lifted his skirts to avoid it catching on the gravelly path as he made his way over. After taking a few pictures of his ride, he turned to the trio. “Thanks a bunch for the help, guys!”
“You are most welcome.” The coachman at the door smiled as Caterella boarded, shutting it after him with a click.
The interior was just as luxurious as the exterior. The carriage sported cushy seats lined with velvet, and plenty of space for Caterella to stretch his legs. He laughed, relishing in the luxury of it.
“Having fun, are we?”
His Fairy Godmother was at the window. Caterella scooted closer to it and stuck his head out.
“Tons of it!”
“I’m happy that you are enjoying yourself. However, please do bear in mind that all magic is temporary. This dream of yours will only last until midnight—so be home by then.”
“Midnight curfew? No probs, I gotcha.”
“Very well. If we are in agreement, then…” Azul swept into a bow. “Enjoy your evening.”
There was a sharp crack and a startled whinny.
The carriage shot off at a breakneck speed into the night, following a path of prickly bramble to the castle that loomed in the distance.
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Meanwhile, at the castle, a quiet panic rolled through a trio of guards.
The ball was already in full swing, the orchestra playing a slow waltz, bodies swathed in fine fabrics and decorated with fat jewels leaning into one another. Drunk on conversation and laughter and wine.
But no prince to be found.
A small man swept through the hallways, surveying the area for a familiar, horned figure. He was flanked on either side by two tall, muscular men in matching uniforms—ebony, hemmed with neon green.
“Where could Malleus have wandered off to now? He’s late for his own ball, the silly boy,” the short one said.
“He’ll be presented to the guests soon. We’re running short on time,” the silver-haired youth to his right remarked.
“Perhaps it would be best if we split up to comb the premises.” The short man cut a glance at the party, which radiated a golden glow. “The others may be able hold down the fort without our combined presence, but chaos may break out if they realize the prince is missing.”
“As expected of Lilia-sama!! YOUR TACTICAL GENIUS KNOW NO BOUNDS!!”
“There’s not a point to it if you shout the plans for the world to hear, Sebek…”
“Kufufu.” Lilia chuckled, a hand to his mouth. “Well, let’s see then. Sebek, with your loud voice that carries across fields, you should patrol the courtyard. It would also lessen the likelihood of anyone overhearing the shouts in case there is a lull in the music. Silver, quiet and stoic as you are, the corridors are yours.
“I will remain in the ballroom to monitor the event. I’d wager to say my people skills can delay Malleus’s introduction, should he be fashionably late.”
“As you wish, father.”
“Yes, Lilia-sama!! THIS SEBEK WILL NOT DISAPPOINT YOU!! I SHALL RETRIEVE THE YOUNG MASTER AT ANY AND ALL COSTS!!”
“We’ll reconvene at the stroke of midnight. I’ll see you boys—and your reports—then.”
They shared a salute before breaking off in different directions.
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The ball was like a dream come to life for Caterella. As soon as he stepped out of his carriage, the castle unfolded before his very eyes like a picture from a popup book.
It was great and grand and forged of stone, centuries’ worth of history guarded by gargoyles. Tall spires that reached for the night sky, amber ambience pooling out from its windows. A song blared from within, riding on the faint wind of chatter.
He pictured a chandelier dripping with crystals, long tables loaded with food, and dozens and dozens of guests gliding across a polished floor. All set to a twisted rhythm.
Caterella collected his skirts and made his way to the entrance, head held high like he was somebody important, eager to join the partygoers. The lights drew him in like a moth to a flame, and he couldn’t resist its hypnotic glow.
That was until something in the corner of his eye moved.
He stopped, startled by the slinking shadow. No, that was not slinking shadow but a person.
A stranger, tall and dark and devastatingly beautiful. Draped entirely in dark robes, his skin of moonlight appeared like a floating face. A curtain of ebony hair was swept back, revealing a row of obsidian scales across his forehead. Stranger still, a pair of jet-black horns poked out from his head.
He was composed like both man and monster, yet he wore his traits like they were crowns and relics. The stranger stood tall and regal, his mouth--painted a red so deep it verged on black--pinched into a neutral line, his irises fine emeralds.
He was poison dressed in a pretty perfume bottle.
“What’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?” Caterella asked jokingly.
The stranger glanced his way. There was antique gold laced in the green of his eyes, something ancient and unspoken. The stranger’s mouth moved, and a deep thunder beckoned.
“I grew tired of the festivities and sought to amuse myself with an evening stroll.” He looked down at Caterella through his lashes. “What of you?”
“I’m here for the party!”
“My, so you’re a guest.” He inclined his head. The moon refracted off of his eyes, infusing the emeralds with an opalescent shimmer. “I’m afraid you’ve wandered quite a bit away from the hub.”
“I actually just got here,” Caterella admitted. The words came easily to him, despite his quaking heart. “Think you can point me in the right direction?”
"It would be that way.”
“Thanks! I’ll catch ya there then!!”
Caterella turned, but he was only able to take a single step before he found himself compelled to look back.
The stranger had directed his gaze upwards, at a grotesque little monster snaking out from the side of the castle. It huddled in on itself, wings and claws tucked in, stance alert.
A loyal minion on the lookout for danger. Beyond it, the stars splayed across an inky night, blinking in and out. So vast and empty.
He looked sad, and a little bit lonely.
Just like Caterella.
“… Hey, do you want to come with?”
The offer had left Caterella’s mouth before he even realized what he was saying. It caught both him and the stranger off guard. They stared at each other with wide-eyes expressions, drinking the other in under the starry night.
“I’m not much of a people person,” he said at last.
“You’re talking to me just fine—and I’m a person too, aren’t I?”
The stranger stared dubiously at him. “One that is supposedly running late for the ball. I don’t even know your name, child of man. Nor you mine.”
Caterella laughed, unperturbed by the awkwardness. “I know what’ll break the ice! Here, let’s take a selfie together! I’ll tag you in it, and we can be Magicam friends.”
“… I do not understand.” His brow creased. “What is this ‘selfie’ and ‘tagging’ of which you speak? Is this ‘Magicam’ an incantation I have yet to learn of?”
“Huh? You’ve never heard of Magicam? It’s like THE hottest social media platform right now!”
Another stare.
“Alright, guess not. But that’s okay! I can just text you the pic anyway!”
With that, Caterella produced his phone—decked out in its brand new glass case—and held it out, catching both himself and the stranger in its lens. The horned man blinked at his reflection, at Caterella winking, a peace sign thrown up.
CLICK!
A bright flash went off, erasing the world. There was just him and Caterella, suspended in a brilliant white void. It was a scene captured in time, a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment.
Then everything came crashing back less than half a second later. Reality swung its hammer down, shattering the dream.
They were back.
“Ooh, this came out really nice!” Caterella nodded approvingly at the picture, his fingers already fixed on his keypad. “Alright, so what’s your name and number? I’l add you to my phone, so we won’t be strangers anymore~”
“My name? You wish to know my name?” His lips twisted into a wry grin. “You’ve yet to offer yours. It is rude to demand another’s without first giving your own.”
“Caterella’s what my sisters call me, but I’m actually just Cater. Cater Diamond. And you?”
“I am…”
He paused, abruptly jerking his head in the direction of the ballroom. Low to the ground, nestled below orchestral music, were firm footsteps and a murmur.
“I’m certain I saw a flash coming from this way…”
And in the opposite direction, another voice resounded. This one skipped across the music, standing far above it as each syllable rang out. Each word, the strike of a war drum.
“Young master! YOUNG MASTERRRR!! ARE YOU THERE?! PLEASE RESPOND IF YOU ARE!!”
“… It looks as though we may have some unexpected company,” the horned man sighed. Raising a hand, he gestured for Caterella. “Come, follow me. I know of someplace where we will not be disturbed.”
“Eh, where’s that?”
The stranger’s smile was brighter than any star, more mysterious than the moon itself.
“The gardens.”
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Caterella was whisked away to a special, secret spot. He didn’t know a thing about the man that led the way, but his heart whispered that he could trust him. 
“Weren’t some people looking for you?” Caterella asked.
“There are times when one does not wish to be found,” replied the stranger. “There are times when the darkness offers more comfort than the light.”
Deeper and deeper they went into the gardens, past rows of flowers and tangles of trees and shrubbery... until they came upon a wall of thorns. A single red flower bloomed amidst the mess of bramble, just low enough to reach. The rose among thorns.
The stranger cupped it pressed his mouth against the rose’s velvet petals. He murmured a spell, then stepped back.
The bramble shuddered before splitting open like a gate, allowing him and Caterella to brush by.
“Whoa.”
A marble fountain laid in the center, a coiled dragon spouting out water instead of flames. The soft light of fireflies bounced off the glistening water, creating the illusion of fallen stars flooding the scene.
Roses ringed the scene, all the colors of the rainbow and every size imaginable. Baby buds to mature, tender blooms to ones so ripe they had started to rot, perfuming the air with their heady aroma.
Caterella cautiously stepped into the secret garden, as if testing if it was dream or reality.
His hand instinctively reached for his phone to record everything--pictures and videos of this enchanted place--only to find a pale hand come upon it, lowering the device. The stranger gazed at Caterella with a quiet curiosity. Fireflies danced in his eyes.
“This will be our little secret.”
“I don’t even know your name yet,” Caterella said cheekily, reciting the stranger’s words back at him, “and you’re asking these kinda things from me.”
“... You came for a ball. I presumed you would wish to dance instead of simply watching your surroundings.” He offered his hand. “May I?”
“Huh, are we dancing here instead of...”
“I’m not needed there for some time. I would rather get to know you more. It is not often when I get to have one-on-one audiences this... colloquial.”
“It sounds like you already know a lot of stuff that I don’t.”
“Then perhaps this would also be an opportunity for you to get to know me.”
“Wow, so suave. You liar, you’re so a people person.”
The nameless man’s chuckle was like music without lyrics. “For just tonight, let us live once upon a dream.”
Caterella smiled, slipping his gloved hand into the stranger’s.
The world was an orchestra, the animals and plants, its instruments. The distant chirp of cicadas and the faint, whistling summer breeze were the strings and woodwinds that sang for the duo.
Caterella’s glass slippers floated over lush grass, illuminated in a spotlight cast by the moon, starlight refracting in his eyes. The stranger, too, shone, his figure cut sharply by silver lining, fingers intertwined with Caterella’s.
They danced the night away. Time slipped away, as did all sense of space. It was as though that moment of a midsummer’s eve was bottled, scenery set in its own snow globe, and they, the central figures spinning set on a music box.
When, at last, their lungs and their legs gave out, the two fell to flower and star gazing. The stranger seemed to be wise beyond his years, reciting each constellation and species of rose as a scholar would. He lost his edge then, as intrigue and excitement softened his harsh features.
Caterella gave himself in return. They seated themselves on the ledge of the water fountain, scrolling through his picture gallery, full of snapshots of Caterella’s life. He’d nudge the hesitant stranger, urging him to swipe the screen himself, and cheered when he did.
His sparkle brightened when they stopped on most recent image in the phone—the one of their first encounter.
“Watch this,” Caterella said with a wink. “Did you know? You can draw on your pics too!”
Dragging his finger across the screen, he doodled a rose sprouting from the stranger’s head. The flower stood out against his dark visage. He chuckled at its silliness.
“Now you try!” Caterella thrusted his phone at him. “Just use the pen tool to do it.”
“I will attempt.” The stranger’s own finger hovered over the screen—but it never came down upon it. “… My, it’s nearly midnight. Is it truly that late already? I hadn’t realized the time had flown by. I am needed for my appearance at the ball soon.”
“Nearly midnight?!”
Sweat broke out across Caterella’s skin. He jolted up, hands bunching and creasing his skirts.
The stranger frowned. “Is something the matter? You appear to be rather alarmed.”
“I just realized I need to catch my ride!! If I break curfew, I’ll be sooo busted!!” Caterella blurted out. “Thanks for hanging with me, it was super cool to meet you… but I gotta go!”
“Wait—”
The stranger didn’t have a chance to finish his plea. Caterella was already fleeing.
“Come back!”
More shouting. Feet rushing into the garden. Burly men in uniform reaching for the stranger.
“There you are. We were getting worried about you.”
“W-Wait, where are you going?! Young master? YOUNG MASTEEER!!”
It was a flurry of movement.
Past the flowers, past the wall of thorns, out of the gardens, and to the front of the fairy tale castle. Caterella was waking from the dream.
A clock tolled in the distance. Doom reverberating through his bones and resonating in his marrow.
Already, the magic started to unravel. Caterella’s gown melted away into cinder-covered clothes, his glass slippers turning into sooty sneakers. His bun came loose, falling into messy waves against his face.
Soon, not even Caterella’s sparkle would remain.
He hurried up to a familiar carriage and waved at the twins lounging on it. “Yo, guys!! We gotta book it!!”
One of them yawned. “That sounds like a you problem. Figure it out yourself.”
The other chuckled faintly. “I apologize, dear client. Our end of the bargain has already been fulfilled. We are no longer contractually obligated to assist. As you can see, my brother and I are now off duty.”
“Can’t you, like, shoot Azul a text and convince him to extend the contract just for a little longer?!”
“I’m afraid not.” His smile was sardonic. “I believe you ought to run the rest of the way home. It seems that you have someone in hot pursuit.”
“What?!” Cater dared to look over his shoulder, and his heart stopped.
Floating high above the castle was the stranger. His robes billowed out behind him like a train of the night sky and his glowing eyes pulsated in the surrounding darkness. A menacing aura radiating from every pore of his moonlit frame, mouth curled into a cat-like smirk.
“Do not think you can escape from me. When I command you to stop, you will obey.” He lifted a hand, and thunder roared on command. “Stay where I can see you if you do not desire to be struck down.”
“WH-WHY IS HE FOLLOWING MEEEEEE?!”
“Who knows?” The other twin shrugged. “But man, he looks super pissed. I’d keep running if I were you~”
“Aaah, geez!! I so did NOT sign up for this!”
Caterella took off down the road, teeth clenched and skin bracing against the rush of wind and ozone, against the clap of thunder and the flash of lightning.
TROMP, TROMP, TROMP!!
His footfalls were heavy and frantic. His breaths, shallow and rapid.
There was no telling how far he had propelled himself, nor how close his pursuer was. Flight was without sound, only coming with a sweeping chill when it was already far too late to escape. 
Hazy summer warmth enveloped Caterella. He felt the remainders of the Fairy Godmother’s magic sloughing off of him in the wave of heat.
The anti-detection spell!
“None of the other guests in attendance shall be able to recognize you after tonight,” Azul had promised. “It will have been just like a dream.”
The stranger wouldn’t recognize him, even if their paths did cross again. He would look right past Caterella, at someone that didn’t exist, at something out of his reach.
His fairy tale was over.
Caterella slowed to a stop. His legs burned from exertion, muscles practically melting. Realization set in like the first star glimmering into view in the apex of the sky.
“It’s... really all over.”
Pain nipped at his chest, and each heartbeat echoed into his veins. Adrenaline and disappointment buzzed in his blood.
He wished it had lasted just a little while longer.
Caterella looked down at his sooty self, at his well-worn footwear. He raked a hand through his hair and sighed. “... I guess all good things have to come to an end.”
“I was not aware that this was the end.” Something firm pressed against Caterella’s forehead. “Is this not the beginning? We’ve only just met.”
His jaw dropped.
The stranger stood before Caterella, dangling a glittering device in his milky fingers. Amusement tugged his lips upward as he deposited it in Caterella’s hands. It fit perfectly in Caterella’s palm, feeling right at home in his grip.
“You remember me?”
“Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I? You are quite the memorable character, child of... no, it was Diamond, wasn’t it?”
“But there was an enchantment—”
“Ah, you speak of the anti-detection spell?” He brushed off an invisible speck from his cloak. “Such low-level magic could not hope to dupe my eyes.”
“And you’re... not mad?”
“... Why would I be mad?”
“Dude, you were chasing me down with killing intent! You were LITERALLY about to shoot lightning at me!! I was THIS close to being Fried Cay-kun!”
The stranger planted his hands on his hips, his lips pursing into a pout. He tapped a finger on Caterella’s phone, which was still dressed in its glass case. “... That was just a joke. I only intended to return what you had forgotten.”
“A JOKE?!”
“Yes. Is that not what children of man do with their companions? They ‘pal around’ and joke with one another.”
“Not sure what part of that was the punchline, cuz none of it seemed funny to me!”
“It wasn’t? Hmm... noted. I will take that into consideration when I next attempt to ‘break the ice’.”
“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.” Caterella held up a hand. “You were trying to break the ice? With me? Now? Just look at me—I’m not ‘cammable at all! There’s a bunch of people all suped up at the ball.”
“What significance does this bearing have? I fail to see the issue. It is you that I am interested in, Diamond—not the gown, nor the glass slippers. You offered me the same courtesy. It is only fair that I repay it in full.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I never did formally introduce myself, did I?”
The stranger smirked, and bent into a bow. The scales upon his forehead glistened in the moonlight like an obsidian crown. “Malleus Draconia, crown prince to the Briar Valley. Charmed, I’m sure.”
Caterella reacted as though he’d been energized by a bolt of lightning. His phone came close to slipping from his grasp.
“NO WAAAAY! I’ve seriously been hanging out with a prince this whole time?!” He stumbled back, his knees threatening to buckle. “Am I dreaming?”
“All dreams must end eventually. But this dream doesn’t have to.” Malleus extended a hand and a small smile, lovelier and brighter than any star. “Will you accompany me this evening to the ball?”
“What will happen after that?” Caterella whispered, his hand hesitant. “We can’t dance forever. Our soles and our spirits will wear out someday.”
“We needn’t say our goodbyes. I would be honored to spend more time with you, Diamond—tomorrow, and every day ever after.”
Caterella’s temperature spiked, his pulse set racing. A coquettish curiosity tickled him, and he wondered if he might be able to make a friend—one as true and as genuine as a diamond.
Steeling his nerves, he took the plunge.
“Well, I happen to know this place run by a Fairy Godmother,” Caterella said slowly, “and I kind of owe him a solid. You good to hit them up sometime?”
The prince—a stranger no more—nodded, his fingers curling into Caterella’s. “I would love to, my… friend.”
The hesitation preceding his final word went ignored as Caterella crashed into his arm, his laughter broad and wild. “Awesome!! Let’s get going then, the night’s still young and we’ve got a dance floor to slay!!”
“Of course.”
Arm in arm, Caterella and Malleus returned to the castle, much to the surprise and the chagrin of the prince’s attendants. The duo swept past the slack jaws and to the dance floor, eyes locked on one another’s. In a world of their own.
“I cannot believe this!!” Sebek seethed. “The kidnapper has returned with the young master out of guilt, and he is welcomed into the festivities with open arms?!”
“He looks like he’s having fun though. I don’t think the kidnapper means any harm, Sebek.”
“Kufufu. Silver is right, you know. I say, ‘live and let live’. It’s his first friend. Let Malleus have his fun.”
Lilia looked on, a proud grin stretching from ear to ear. “Ah, this scene reminds me of the ending of a story I heard on my travels. How did it go again…?”
And they lived happily ever after…
The End
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wandaszn · 2 years
Text
Long Way Home
Hi everyone! This is my first delve into writing so I hope you can bear a bit of novice and mediocrity! This is just a small (read: it was small but I got carried away lol) shot based on this incredibly cute video of Lizzie. Just a few tweaks, such as the song being changed to Long Way Home by 5SOS and it being a Wanda x Reader instead. Also we're gonna pretend that Westview never happened and WandaVision doesn't exist *mwah*
Please leave any feedback at all I'd really appreciate it! Hope you enjoy!
Nobody has permission to repost this on any platforms. Please don't be a dick.
Summary: On the way home from a quick grocery trip, Y/N turns left instead of right.
Warnings: Just a fluffy little one-shot. Slight(!) angst. Mentions of intimate moments but nothing major.
Here's the song in case you haven't heard it!
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While it's tradition for shotgun to have control over the music, Wanda was obsessed with your playlist curating skills. You had made her countless playlists for day-to-day activities whether it be cooking, cleaning, working out or showering. Her absolute favorite, however, had to be the one for car rides as it had a mixture of both your favorite tunes. After countless trips together, you had learned the order by heart so you knew exactly what song was next. An idea sparked in your head as the light changed and you quickly switched your turn signal, deciding that an impromptu adventure couldn't hurt after a quick grocery trip.
"Y/NN, where are we going?" asked Wanda, curious as to why you missed your turn.
You say nothing, turning the volume up slightly and drumming against the steering wheel as the song's intro fills the car. You glance at her quickly, a small mischievous smile directed at her as you sing along. "We're taking the long way hoooome!"
She furrows her brows while donning a sweet smile and shakes her head affectionately, leaning her head against her palm, arm propped on the center console and watching your mini-concert, as the sun sets behind you.
Remember all the memories
The fireflies and make believes
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Memories of your first date fill Wanda's mind vividly, as if she were reliving it all over again. After running into eachother, literally, at the local farmer's market, it seemed like you could not stop meeting. You know when you see someone but pay no extra attention to their detail, but when you meet them, they're upgraded from background extra to recurring character? The mall, the gym, the park and now, your favorite coffee shop. It felt as if the universe kept pulling you towards the witch. Your yearning only grew stronger as time passed and you found courage to sit across from her at the table while you waited for your order.
She was startled at first and wondered why this kind stranger kept popping up into her life, though she wasn't complaining. You started an easy conversation, joking about fate bringing you both together constantly with no follow-up. While Wanda was hesitant, there's an easy-going air around you that helped the tension in her shoulders dissipate the more you talked to her. The clock behind Wanda told you it was getting dangerously close to you being late to work and you cleared your throat trying to muster up some courage. Taking a leap, you expressed your interest in seeing her again, which made her cheeks flush the cutest pink. Hesitantly, she agreed and gave you her number to set it up.
It took 3 weeks worth of texts, phone calls and canceled plans before your schedules had opened up for a date night. A cool Friday night found the both of you laying on a blanket sharing stories and getting to know each other better. The calm breeze and the ambience of the park allowed the conversation to take a more somber turn as Wanda opened up to you. She had never confided in anyone so quickly before you and felt incredibly vulnerable revealing her past.
She'd revealed her upbringing, her life until she became an avenger and the loss of her brother. Wanda had always been afraid of how people would react to her powers and how she'd previously used them. To her surprise, you didn't recoil like she expected, instead opting to grab her hand and give it a reassuring squeeze. "You're not your past, Wands. People are allowed to grow and change. I would never judge you for how you coped." She was only able to give you a watery smile in return, subtly dabbing at her misty eyes.
Sensing her need to change the topic, you begin rambling about the latest episode of your favorite show. Wanda hadn't heard of the show or anything about it, confessing she'd always preferred her box set of old sitcoms to keep her entertained. When you put your hand to your chest and groaned, she sat up, face creased in concern.
She immediately grasped your face in her hands, "What's wrong? Are you okay?", her voiced laced with worry. "I can't believe you've never watched it! That's the best show ever made!" A small slap on your chest let you know she did not appreciate your little drama act at all. She rolled her eyes and looked up at the clear sky, zoning out a little as she reminisced.
"When I was little, my father created the Maximoff family TV night and I always picked The Dick van Dyke Show. It's my comfort show, you know? On the hard days I just curl up on the couch and watch few episodes and I feel alot better. It reminds me of my family." she shyly admitted. By this time you'd sat up and were gazing at her softly. Reaching to tuck her raven hair behind her ear, your hand traces down to cup her jaw.
"I understand how you feel completely. How about we make a deal?" you look at her with hopeful eyes. She quirks her brow, tilting her head slightly, leaning more into your warm palm. "How about we have a TV night for our next date? We watch some episodes of my show, some episodes of your show and get to see just what keeps us both so hooked, huh?" you smile and she mirrors it.
"Planning for a second date in the middle of the first? Someone's confident..." she smirks. You reach your free hand to the other side of her face as you lean in closer. "I just know what I want," you whisper as you caress her rose-tinted cheeks. "What else do you want?" her question almost sounds like a dare as her eyes flicker to your lips as you lick them.
"I wanna kiss you but I think I should hold out till that second date happens," you joke while slowly pulling away. She grabs the front of your shirt before you move too far, pulling you back in and kissing you softly. Your lips move lazily as you both melt into the embrace. When you part, you rest your forehead against hers.
"Keep kissing me like that and I'll start planning the fifth date," you joke quietly. She giggles and pulls you forward once more. The scattered fireflies provided a calming aura as the night winded down.
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"I wanna get lost and drive forever with you!" you sing enthusiastically, glancing at your girlfriend while holding your invisible microphone. Her affectionate gaze filling your chest with warmth that spurs on your performance. The buildings slowly start to disappear as you drive further into the desert area of your town. Pink, purple and orange paint the sky and you slow down slightly, trying to prolong this moment with your love.
Now we're stuck in the middle of nowhere
Yeah you know we took our time to get there
▪︎▪︎▪︎
Wanda's eyes glaze over once more as the lyrics transport her back to a more difficult time in your relationship. A few months after making it official, a slight panic had overcome her. The morning after a night of intimacy, you had slept over at the Avenger's compound and woken earlier than Wanda. So naturally, you decided to make her breakfast. She had returned from a mission that had drained her both mentally and physically and you wanted to take care of her.
The feel of cold sheets roused her from her slumber and she sat up, looking around the room for any sign of you. There was a faintly delicious smell that had an almost magnetic pull because before her brain had even fully awoken, she was following her nose. When she walked into kitchen, her breath hitched. The view of you standing at the stove, spatula in hand, vigilantly watching the eggs in the pan. As you moved around the scrambled eggs making sure it cooked evenly, you lightly hummed a tune.
This all felt overwhelmingly domestic to Wanda. Before you, she had never had someone this close in her life that wasn't family. It felt wrong having such a peaceful presence in a building that could be attacked at any moment. The sun peeked through the kitchen window, shining perfectly onto the side of your face while you were oblivious to her stare. As pleasant as the scene before her was, she felt nothing but dread. She didn't deserve such serenity and happiness. Regardless of her redemption arc, after all the horror she had caused she was overcome with guilt at being shown this affection and kindness. The way you had welcomed her into your life so openly, even after knowing her past and the dangers of her job, made her feel so loved and she didn't deserve it.
"What are you doing?" she asked harshly, voice coming out slight hoarse from lack of use. Or considering events from last night, overuse. You jump slightly, not expecting any noise to cut into the calm silence. Turning your head, you smile. "Hey, goodmorning sleeping beauty. I'm making a good old fashion eggs and bacon." You strike a silly pose with the utensil, trying to get a laugh out of her. "Alot of this stuff is brand spanking new. I know Stark is loaded but sheesh do you guys never cook?" you lightly jested.
At her hardened expression, you slowly lowered the spatula. "You okay? I hope I'm not overstepping I just thought we could use some fuel after last night." You wiggle your eyebrows playfully, hoping this attempt could atleast garner a smile. Your expression falls as she remains unmoved and you quickly turn off the stove and walk closer to her. You reach for her hand but she quickly moves it and folds her arms instead.
The hurt on your face is subtle but she notices it and feels a little bad but her insecurities are louder so she takes a step back. "I think you should leave." She forces out. You blink in surprise. "What? I'm sorry for touching your stuff, I thought you'd be okay with it. I made extra for the team too," you tried, rubbing your neck nervously you plead to her with your eyes. "I said leave! I don't want you here anymore!" she voice boomed around the silent kitchen. The only other sound being the eggs softly sizzling in the pan.
At her tone you flinched back, eyes widening in shock. She felt the fear rolling off you in waves, your head swimming with your own insecurities. She had been waiting on the day you came to your senses and saw her for who she really was deep down. A monster. A ticking time bomb. A biological weapon. Normally you would go to her and try to calm her down, but the way she had closed in on herself and the tiny bit of red flecks you could see in her irises, you knew this would not be on of those times. Sighing softly, you take one last look at her before you head to her room to collect your things. Trying not to upset her any further, you moved quickly, peeking into the kitchen once more just to ensure you'd turned off the stove and you headed to the elevator.
Meanwhile Wanda was crying and trying to convince herself that she had done what was best for the both of you. Her romantic track record was anything but solid. Having lost every single person that was important to her, she hadn't quite overcome the voice in her head saying she wasn't worthy of love or anything resembling it.
After two weeks of no contact, the redhead ignoring your attempts to talk to her and not running into eachother like you used to, you took matters into your own hands. It hadn't taken you long to realize what Wanda might have been thinking, recalling the many times you gladly reassured her that she is more than deserving of happiness. It broke your heart to know the woman you had been falling in love with was suffering this turmoil alone.
You called Natasha, the Russian assassin had become one of your closest friends after Wanda introduced you to the rest of the team. She revealed that whilst they hadn't been called on any missions, the witch was holed up in her room, only coming out to eat and attend meetings. This had only solidified your suspicions and you knew you had to fight for her. Even if Wanda herself was the biggest obstacle. You showed up at the compound, determined to win back your beloved, access easily granted thanks to your quick closeness to the team. Three shy but precise knocks echoed through Wanda's quarters.
"FRIDAY, who is it?" she asked tiredly. "It is Y/N, Ms. Maximoff." the omnipresent voice replied. It was as if Wanda had had the wind knocked out of her. She immediately went to stand in front of the door but it remained closed. You knocked again, softer this time, as if you knew she was right there. "Wands, baby? Can you open up please? I need you." you asked desperately. Your thoughts floated under the crack of the door, yelling your desire to be with her and your guilt for leaving in the first place. Her hand came to rest on the handle, gripping it tightly. "Come on angel, I miss you. Please let me in." came your pleading whisper. That was all it took for the door to slowly open, tear-filled emerald eyes staring into you.
"Y/N?" came her small voice. Without another word you pushed through the door and embraced her. Her smaller frame wracked with sobs and collapsed against you as strong arms tightly wrapped around her. "I-I'm so sorry..." she repeated between her cries. You did nothing but hold her till her crying subsided. After she calmed down you closed the door and lead her to her couch. Sitting closely, hands clasped together, you maintain strong eye contact as you choose your next words carefully. It's easy to see Wanda is nervous, if the way she played with your fingers was anything to go by.
"You don't get to do that." You say sternly. Before she starts apologizing again, you continue, "You don't get to make me fall in love with you and then decide to avoid me for weeks." Her eyes widened at your admission, which made you roll your eyes. "Now you have the audacity to be shocked? Woman you crashed into my life - literally - and I have yet to successfully imagine living without you. I love you so much and I'm so sorry that my feelings for you weren't louder than those thoughts in your head." Tears fell from your eyes as you tried to convey just how sincere your words were.
"Hell, read my mind if that'll truly convince you but please, baby, never push me away like that again. It physically hurt me to be away from you for so long." Your grip on her hands tightened slightly as you practically begged her. The pure pain and love she saw shining in your eyes made her crumble and she, in turn, grabbed your face and kissed you with all the love she had been harboring since you were apart. Pulling away, with neither of you ready to open your eyes she whispered, "I will never hurt you as long as I live. I love you so much, Y/N."
▪︎▪︎▪︎
As a stop sign came into view, Wanda barely had time to notice you turning to her as you stole a chaste kiss while the bridge of the song began.
"Kissing at the stop signs, darling!" you laughed at her stunned face as you pulled off, continuing your impromptu adventure. Before she could properly register what had just happened, the car came to another stop as you parked at a lookout point of the city. By this time, the sun had already set and being a ways away from all the light pollution, the stars were bright and beautiful. The chorus repeated once more as the song ended, the two of you just sat enjoying eachother's company.
"What made you bring us up here?" She wondered quietly, playing with the fingers of your hand in her lap. Your head lolled to the side, away from your previous view of the stars, to look at something much brighter and prettier than any star in the galaxy. "Just thought we could use a little break from our regular routine. Felt like it was getting a bit robotic, don't you?" Came your reply with a shrug.
"Only three years in and you're getting bored with me, huh?" She teased but you could see the thinly veiled insecurity in her words. You raise her hand and kiss her knuckles in reassurance. "As if, you're stuck with me forever in this universe and the next so strap in." As her eyes lit up, you cut her off before she could open her mouth. "NOT what I meant!" Instantly bursting her bubble, you smiled and she pouted and huffed," You're no fun."
"Like you'd know what to do anyway, pillow princess." You jested, holding your breath to see her reaction. Just as you hoped, red eyes snapped towards you, "Excuse me? Pillow princess? Oh you're gonna wish you never said that. Turn this car around and take me home." It was a rare occasion, Wanda being on top, but when it happened she utilized her work persona as the Scarlet Witch after realizing the effect it had on you and your body. Her authoritative voice filled the car as you hadn't yet moved from staring at her. "Now, Y/N."
After snapping out of your daze you made a hasty (and probably illegal) u-turn. It had been a great idea at first but seeing how far you had driven and how long it'd take for you to be home wrapped up in be with your girlfriend, you cursed your original adventure. Fuck it. Speed limit be damned. They wouldn't give an Avenger a ticket.
Right?
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So there you have it guys! Truth be told I started this back in June and lost and found the inspiration to finish it so many times. Please forgive any mistakes, I've been trying to get this outta my drafts for weeks lmao. I wrote this in the way I know I'd wanna read it so I really hope you enjoy it. Any feedback is welcome whether it be good, bad or even just a like I'd really appreciate it! I have a few other ideas and I hope it won't take me 3 months to finish the next thing lmao. Much love!
sn: how fucking cute is lizzie in that vid
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