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bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky · 2 years

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Number One Fan | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hi, friends! I bought a Bucky Barnes crewneck from this Etsy shop and it made me think about how the Avengers would react to people wearing their merch. :)

As always, send your comments, requests, and/or suggestions my way! 🥰

Tag list: @beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony @mandersshow @emetophilily @breakablebarnes 💘💘💘

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"He's gonna be so mad!" you howled a devilish laugh that shook your entire body. Sam just nodded, unable to even speak. His shoulders shuddered as waves of laughter pummeled through him one after another. He loved being in cahoots with you.

"Hey, he's the one who won't admit that he likes you," Sam said when he finally composed himself, "and he has to know how you feel about him. It's super obvious".

You gave him a playful punch on the arm at his joke. "It is not 'super obvious.'"

He rolled his eyes and handed you a shopping bag, sending you on your way to carry out the evil plan you'd concocted together.

Racing back to your apartment, you checked the time- 5:49pm. Perfect. Bucky was going to be coming by your place at 6:30 for your weekly movie night, and you were eager to see how he reacted to your mischievous plot. You got home and took a quick shower before grabbing your secret weapon out of the bag and pulling it over your head. Uproarious laughter burst out of your mouth as you looked at yourself in the full length mirror.

"Oh my god, he's gonna fucking die" you eyed your reflection and doubled over with another laugh. "This is too good."

You slipped on a hoodie, concealing the little surprise you had arranged for Bucky and anxiously waited for him to arrive.

At 6:30 on the dot, he knocked on your door, greeting you with a hug. His strong arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you close to his chest- your favorite place to be. When he released you, you noticed he was holding a bottle of your favorite wine.

"Oh, that's so sweet... you didn't have to-"

He shook his head and put his hands up, quieting you. “I was just at the store today and saw it… made me think of you” he said with a wink.

His sweet gesture almost made you feel bad about the prank you were about to pull on him- but it was now or never, and you were choosing now.

Bucky moved to the couch to pull up the movie, asking you about your day as he did so. You made casual conversation as your heart began to beat wildly, knowing that you could possibly fuck up your friendship with him over something so silly.

"Hey, is it hot in here to you? I feel like it's kinda warm" you said as you placed a bowl of popcorn on the coffee table. Bucky just shook his head and settled in to his seat on the couch, patting the cushion next to him as an invitation for you to join.

"I think I'm just gonna take my hoodie off," you said casually. This was it, the moment, the big reveal. Unzipping your jacket, you exposed your scheme for Bucky to see. His mouth hung open as he stared at your outfit for the night.

A blue cotton tshirt plastered with a huge picture of Sam's face and the words "Cap's #1 fan" stared back at Bucky, and it took everything in your power to hold back your laughter.

"You... bought his merch?"

You shrugged and plopped down on the couch next to him, casually throwing a few pieces of popcorn into your mouth. His stunned silence persisted and you turned to him, worried that he didn’t find it funny.

"Fucking Sam Wilson..." he muttered before cracking a small smile. "He put you up to this, didn't he?"

A loud laugh escaped your lips and you nodded, revealing the mastermind behind your scheme.

"You trying to make me jealous, doll?"

You threw him a playful shrug, neither confirming nor denying his assumption. He rolled his eyes at you and reached for the bowl of popcorn that was sitting in your lap.

“So, you’re Cap’s number one fan then, hmm? Anything I can do to maybe get you in my fan club?” Bucky asked as he turned to face you, your bodies mere inches from each other.

A pang of nervousness shot through your chest and your mouth ran dry, coming face to face with the moment you'd been waiting for. "Hmm, I don't know, Barnes," you teased, "I guess that maybe you could-"

Before you could finish your quip, his lips were on yours. His kiss was gentle yet deep, and you sighed into his mouth with the satisfaction that you'd finally gotten him to admit his feelings for you. His hand cupped your cheek and pulled you closer. You let loose as you happily surrendered to his touch; this is all you ever wanted.

"So, would the president of Sam's fan club get kicked out if she went on a date with me?" Bucky asked, shooting you a wink.

"Oh, most definitely- so you gotta make this date worth it".

He held up his hand and crossed his heart with his finger before pulling you back in for another kiss. He paused for a moment and chuckled against your lips, making you pull away.

"What's so funny?"

"I don't mean this to make you uncomfortable but... can you take your shirt off, please?"

"What you don't want Sam staring you down while we make out?"

He shook his head and laughed a loud, genuine laugh the brought a smile to your face.

"Here, let me go change real quick..." you murmured, leaving Bucky alone on the couch as you slipped into your second surprise outfit of the night.

You strode confidently back down the hall toward the living room, and came to a stop in front of the couch in your new outfit. Bucky couldn't help but smile. Delicately hand-stitched into a maroon henley that was almost identical to his were the words "Bucky Barnes's No. 1 Fan".

His mouth hung open, "Did you- did you make that?"

Nodding proudly, you plopped down one the couch next to him. "They didn't have any Bucky Barnes merch- which I think is bullshit by the way- so I had to make my own. My mom taught me how to embroider when I was little."

He wrapped his arms around you tightly and pulled you into the couch cushions while pressing kisses to your face and neck. Uproarious laughter escaped your lips as you squirmed under his grasp.

"Not only are you my number one fan, but I think you may be my only fan, doll." Bucky said with a laugh as you recovered from his attack. Still catching your breath, you shook your head.

"Don't be silly, Buck," you teased, "Sam is a close number two".

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superhero--imagines · 3 years

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Etsy Store Here l Ko-Fi l Commission Info

Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here!/ Playlist Here!

* Alright so here are the facts as you know them

* Gojo’s a goddamn player and a homewrecker

* The boy probably has half of Tokyo after him

* Not that you can blame them, that pretty face had you fooled at first too

* The second fact, it that for whatever reason, Gojo Satoru has chosen to play house with a future hopeful sorcerer named Megumi Fushiguro

* Which, through forces outside your control, you have become involved with as well

* And the last fact, was that as soon as this no longer interested him or benefited him in any way, Gojo Satoru would abandon the situation entirely and act like it never happened

* So-

* “(Y/N/N), you look nice today, did you do something new with your hair?” Gojo sings

* - pray tell, why is the school prince is currently sitting on top of your desk, looking at you with those heart eyes

* “Oi what do you think you’re doing?” You ask, a vein threatening to pop on your forehead

* “I’m flirting with you~” he sings, only leaning closer with that all-too-pleased smile

* “I’m pretty sure this is bullying” you reply

* Ever since you’ve started pseudo-parenting Megumi and Tsumiki, Gojo’s been doing crap like this,

* Sometimes he tries to feed you at lunch,

* “Open wide (Y/N/N)~” He’ll sing as he holds out a piece of sushi towards you on some chopsticks

* Only for Megumi to eat it instead

* “Why do you look so sad papa, I thought you said I was your pride and joy”

* other times he’s holding doors open for you

* “Ah here let me-“

* You watch as he walks across from you and opens the door to a random void shrine

* You look at him before sighing and opening your own door to the library

* The other day you mentioned how you didn’t get to try the limited edition Sakura Pepsi and came back to your dorm with a bottle on your desk

* Which would be cute- if the bottle wasn’t half-empty with a note that he’d that said

* “Sorry, I got thirsty on the way back”

* Seriously he’s the worst- and yet,

* You turned away from Megumi and Gojo bickering, hoping he didn’t notice how flustered you were,

* you hid your laugh behind your hand as Gojo jogs to catch up with you, saying he was just trying to predict your needs-

* And you held the half-full bottle of Sakura Pepsi to your chest, keeping it on your window sill

* Because you love him-

* Even though you know he’s just doing all these things to entertain himself instead of out of genuine affection

* Even though these feeling will do nothing but hurt you

* You still love him

* He makes your life feel exciting and fun

* And more than that, underneath that moronic playboy exterior, is a gentle, lonely heart

* A heart that will run away as soon as it knows how you feel about it

* So you mask your budding feelings as best as you can

* Because the only thing you imagine is more painful than knowing your feelings won’t be returned-

* Is not having Gojo Satoru in your life at all

* So you do your best to pretend like nothing has changed

* You act just as indifferent as you always have-

* “Here-“ you push your dessert in Gojo’s direction. “You like sweets right?”

* His smile is so radiant you almost have to shield your eyes

* Well, mostly indifferent anyway

* Not that the self-absorbed moronic prince has seemed to notice anyway

* Too busy focusing on the scrumptious piece of cake in front of him

* Still Gojo isn’t one to be underestimated, he looks to you with a twinkle in his eyes

* “Let’s share it!”

* So far he’s tried twice to have an indirect kiss with you, and he’s missed twice

* He even threw away those chopsticks when Megumi ate that piece of sushi in frustration

* But you know what they say, third times the charm

* You look at Gojo with a raised eyebrow, gaze flicking between the cake and his face

* What, did he imbue some cursed energy so it would explode when you tried to take a bite

* “No thanks”

* Cue Gojo crying as he eats his cake

* He’s really been doing his best lately to earnestly pursue you

* But for some reason, you just don’t get it

* “I like you,” Gojo says as you’re walking side by side on your way back to the dorm after visiting Megumi

* You look back at him, and Gojo feels a blush start to fan across his face

* He finally did it! He finally confessed to you

* And his heart is drumming away in his chest

* You don’t seem to understand the monumental significance of what just occurred because what your mind heard was

* “I {really} like {teasing} you”

* You sigh, your heart skipped a beat, for a second you almost got your hopes up

* There’s no way lady killer Gojo Satoru would ever pick you to be one of his lovers, and if he did it would just be so you could be apart of his personal harem

* “Ok”

* And then you turn around and walk away

* Gojo can’t help but feel like this is retribution for all the times one of his romantic partners has said ‘I love you’

* And he responded with:

* “Why would you do that to yourself?”

* Or

* “Cool”

* At first he thinks it’s a straight-up rejection, but he figures out pretty fast that you just didn’t get it when you keep acting the same as you always have around him

* But don’t get it wrong babe, none of this deters Gojo in the slightest

* “Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask

* You’re both in the library, but only one of you is actually studying

* Gojo’s been staring at you with an oddly fixated gaze

* Honestly it’s got you feeling an uncomfortable heat spreading from your face to your neck

* “I’m not giving up you know”

* Giving up on what?!?

* What’s going on right now!!?

* But Gojo doesn’t offer any more insight choosing instead to finally bother reading the book in his hands

* What a weird guy

* You look down to your own book

* You feel the heat linger on your face and neck

* It’s because he’s always saying crap like that, that you’ve caught feelings for him

* Well whatever, everything fades right? Eventually, Gojo will probably lose interest in you-

* He’s part of a clan do you imagine they’ll find a nice girl from a respectable family for him to marry

* They’ll probably have a few kids who’ll be next in line to succeed him

* And by then he’ll be in such a prominent position that you’ll never see him again

* He’ll just be a memory

* Some boy you had a youthful unrequited love with

* The thought makes your heart clench but-

* “It’s for the best,” you tell yourself

* You’re going in completely opposite directions in life, you couldn’t possibly home for anything more than what you have

* After all your luck probably ran out the second you saw his face

* The most beautiful man you’ll ever see

* “I bet he would be one of those handsome grandpas when he gets older” you snort

* The kind that charms and flirts with young men and women just because he knows the effect he has on them.

* You still can’t believe you fell in love with someone like that

* “What a pain” you mumble to yourself, falling back on your bed

* You feel uncertain, afraid of the future even.

* Maybe a snack will help

* It’s the middle of the night, way past the time you were supposed to go to bed when you see him in the kitchen

* Great the last person you wanted to run into

* He’s just standing there in front of the fridge with the door open

* He hasn’t even turned around to say hi or anything

* “Oi Baka prince if you leave the door open like that every-“

* You stop mid-word, you only need one look at his face to know something is wrong

* It’s not all that uncommon for him to do something like this-

* See the thing is, Gojo knows he’s strong enough that he will get to choose when he dies- he’s not bound by the same pain the other sorcerers are, but-

* Well, he’s still going to die

* No matter how much he thinks he’s like god, no matter how powerful he is,

* He’s still going to die

* And growing up with the power he’s had and the mindset that he’s the strongest

* The realization can be pretty crippling

* He so afraid of the uncertainty that brings that most times he can’t move

* The worst part is it’s never when he’s actively thinking about death, or even when he’s on the job

* It’s always at times like this when he’s just woken up and is oddly hungry and he’ll remember

* “Oh, I’m going to die aren’t I?”

* And then it’s like he’s frozen solid

* What is it he usually tells the victims that enter his domain?

* “Funny how when you can do everything, you find you can’t do anything”

* Usually he manages to unfreeze after some unspecified amount of time, getting through it on his own

* But this time, when he finally escapes from the domain of his inner mind he’s covered in a layer of sweat just like always-

* But he’s not sure why he sprawled across the floor

* Not until his head shifts a little, only to see your face looming over him

* Omgomgomgomgomgomgomgomg

* He’s resting his head in your lap!!!

* Honestly this has been a fantasy of his for a while, to have his head in your lap while looking at the cherry blossoms, and you feed him chocolates and a gentle wind caresses your face

* BUT NOT LIKE THIS

* “Feeling better?” You ask

* Gojo thinks he might combust, he moves to sit up but winces

* He’s got the worst headache, these little episodes of his do typically end with a migraine

* Your hand feels nice and cold as it rests against his forehead

* “Rest a little longer, we’re not in any hurry”

* Aaaaand now he’s screaming on the inside again

* “Sorry about this” he mumbles, and you can’t help but smile

* It’s oddly endearing to see a shy Gojo Satoru

* “I bet your lovers would kill me if they saw knew you were showing me such a cute side” you’re half-joking when you say it, but you’re also half-serious

* It gives your Ego a little boost to know you’ve seen a side of him that most of his lovers probably haven’t

* You doubt the mighty Gojo Satoru ever allows himself to be this vulnerable, not even while he’s in the throes of passion

* So that same earnest look on his face startles you

* “I don’t have any other lovers”

* You snort

* “Sure, and I definitely didn’t steal Geto’s pudding that he was saving”

* “I’m being serious”

* Gojo sighs, here he is feeling awfully vulnerable and you still seem denser than a rock

* Do you think he would let anyone other than you see him like this

* “When are you going to realize that if it’s not you then it’s just no good?”

* Your heart is drumming in your ears, and you wonder if he can hear it

* Your mind is telling you to pull back, that this is way too good to be true, that this will only hurt you,

* You should get away while you still have a chance

* But instead something in you persists and you say:

* “Why do you think that is”

* Gojo’s hand reaches up, twirling a strand of your hair around his finger, those clear blue eyes looking straight into yours

* Your breath stutters in your chest

* You always have been weak for those eyes

* His pink lips curl up into a smile

* “Because I love you”

* And before you know what you’re doing your bending down, pressing your lips against his

* “I love you too”

Bonus:

* “You can see through it right?” You ask

* Gojo fidgets with the blindfold, honestly he was hoping for a much kinkier reason than replacing his scuffed sunglasses when you gave him the blindfold

* “It’s a little darker, but that’s not a bad thing.”

* His hair is out of his face too which is nice

* But-

* “What’s with the sudden gift?”

* It’s not exactly out of character for you to get the people you care about something, but this seems a little outside of your usual MO

* “I just felt like it” You mumble

* Now that his eyes are covered up you think he might attract a little less attention, and all his former flings probably won’t be able to recognize him

* Your eyes drift to his uniform, even in the gross pantsuit you can still tell he’s got a pretty nice body,

* But you’ll have to adjust

* Gojo sees right through your nonchalant answer, smiling that wolfish grin

* “Aw was my sweetie scared I was going to leave them?” He coos, moving ever so close

* You only turn away your face

* Gojo only grins wider

* “Honey~ you should know by now if it’s not you then I’m not interested” he sings in your ear

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru headcanon #gojo satoru reader insert #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru imagine #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jujutsu kaisen headcanon #jujutsu kaisen x reader #superhero--imagines

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elbdot · 3 years

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I was looking through your Guzma art (I’m not a stalker, I swear), and I saw your Alolan Adventures buttons. Are you still selling those? 😍😍😍

I ACTUALLY DO STILL HAVE A TON OF THEM HERE SINCE I ONLY GOT TO GO TO ONE CONVENTION BEFORE CORONA HAPPENED

But I’m not sure if I can handle opening up an online-shop next to my regular work to take orders and ship them out myself - I would need to buy a lot of packaging first and also find out how much I need to charge for shipping and bOY OH BOY BIG OOF

I have a couple of friends who have an active storenvy / etsy, so I’ll ask them how they handle it all so I can rethink the whole thing again and see if I’ll open up a store.

So far I only have a Redbubble that uNFORTUNATELY took down a lot of my Pokemon-related merch because the Pokemon Company honest to god started suing Redbubble because OF COURSE they would...

#Honestly the Pokemon Companies behavior is even more embarrassing when you go to Redbubble's partner program #where a sHITTON of shows and cartoons are listed #that are OKAY with you making fanart and offer you to get your merch officially licensed #AND THEN U ARE GOOD!!! YOU CAN STILL SELL IT!!!#they probably get a percentage of it too but still better than just bLOCKING U OUT FOREVER #redbubble #pokemon #merch #star-trekker-0013

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harrypotter-imaginess · 3 years

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Etsy Store Here l Ko-Fi l Commission Info I Instagram I Zine

Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here! / Part 3 Here!

A/N: I think two more parts and an epilogue :)

* If Draco’s being honest, he kind of saw it coming

* Honestly the fact that she had been so quiet when everything unfolded in Paris was very unlike her

* So he’s not at all surprised to see her in the mundane waiting area at his department

* A very frazzled receptionist who’s frantically telling an old war hero that even though she saved the world, she can’t see Mr.Malfoy without an appointment

* “It’s alright Saoirse, I’ll take it from here,” he tells the receptionist with a soft pat on the shoulder before turning his attention to his visitor

* “Hello Granger,” she only replies with a polite smile

* He really was afraid of this

* “what can I do for you?”

* And that’s how he found himself at a cafe around the corner sitting across from his old nemesis -

* And apparently also his old school crush-

* With two steaming cups of untouched tea in front of them

* He’s trying to keep calm, not showing that he’s internally freaking out

* It’s no sooner that the server is out of earshot that Granger leans over the table and says through gritted teeth

* “What are you playing at Malfoy?”

* And Draco, having learned one single thing living with his parents is that when someone is angry-

* You lie

* So he takes control of the moment, lifting the cup of tea to his lips and savoring his sip of tea before saying :

* “I have no idea what you mean”

* It only makes her angrier

* Well what did she think was going to happen?

* That she could just show up unannounced and interrogate him about his relationship

* He doesn’t need her to be hard on him, he’s hard enough on himself for the both of them

* “Honestly Draco, are you so self-involved that you have no consideration for what will happen to them once your family finds out you’re involved with a Muggle”

* He’s thought of nothing but that actually

* “You’ll be fine of course, you’re their son they’ll forgive you for it, call it a flight of youth but what about them? What about the years you’re stealing from them, their mind-“

* Mid tirade, Draco slips a hand into his suit pocket and pulls out a small velvet box

* Hermione stops talking when he sets it down in the middle of the table

* “I bought it the day after our first date”

* After that day, he knew there was no going back

* He couldn’t live a life without you, he couldn’t go back to the way things were anymore

* Hermione doesn’t say anything for a long time

* “Your parents-“she starts

* “Will disown me” Draco finishes and then after thinking about it for a second he adds:

* “Probably”

* “Draco-“ Hermione’ stone is sympathetic but he stops her right there

* “I know you think I’m the worst and daft to boot, and honestly I probably am, but don’t think for a second I haven’t considered all the angles for how this play’s out”

* They sit in silence, and to Draco’s surprise it’s not painful

* It’s just sad

* “You love them that much?” And for the first time, Hermione isn’t looking at him with a glare

* “With all my heart” he responds without a moments thought

* Because it’s true

* If being with you means his family will never speak to him again if it means he’ll have to give up his money if it means he’ll have to give up magic forever

* Then that’s okay

* He’ll give them all up with a smile on his face

* “They show up in my nightmares you know” Granger raises her eyebrow at that

* Ah, that came out wrong

* “Not like that-“

* He’s certainly not saying the person he loves is the root of his nightmares

* Every so often he’ll be back in school

* Kicking some first year while they’re down

* Telling Potter how pathetic he is because he doesn’t have parents

* Standing in front of the vanishing cabinet in the room of requirement, trying to mend it

* Standing in front of Dumbledore with his wand raised

* And he can see himself doing all of these terrible things, things that make him cringe and ashamed

* And then you show up

* A hand placed on his shoulder

* “You can choose kindness Draco”

* “You don’t have to hurt other people so they don’t notice that you’re hurting too”

* “Everything is okay”

* “I’m here now”

* And so, like things always are when you're around, the dream is bathed in warm gold light

* Draco extends his hand, helping the first year onto his feet

* He tells Potter: “sometimes I’m jealous you haven’t got any parents. Sometimes the things they want from me - it's like I can’t breathe”

* He breaks that vanishing cabinet

* And he lowers his wand and whispers “help me please, tell me what I have to do to escape this future”

* And it makes all the difference

* “They’re what saves me,” he says, completely unaware of the look in Hermione’s eyes

* Ron and Harry never saw it, but she did-

* It’s easy for the three of them to be good, they had people like Dumbledore and Arthur Weasley and Professor McGonagall to look up to, to look towards when they thought they may stray from their path

* But Draco never had anyone like that

* He had Snape, but that was a mess in and of itself

* And she’s ashamed to say that as smart as she is, she didn’t see it sooner

* Not until she saw him in that Parisian bakery

* She didn’t think he could look that kind in general, let alone to a Muggle

* But just because he’s better now because of you, doesn’t mean he should be better at the expense of you

* She’s happy for you

* “If you hurt them you won’t need to worry about your parents, I’ll murder you myself”

* Draco laughs

* That seems fair

* “I’m sorry,” and when she seems confused he adds:

* “For all the things I did in school, I regret all of them”

* An awkward expression crosses her face

* “I’m not asking for your forgiveness, I don’t deserve it, I just-“

* He just thought that she deserved one, even if it was after all these years

* “I just wanted to apologize”

* Not wanting to make her uncomfortable he moves to leave, standing up and ticking his chair in

* “Oh and one more thing,” he says before leaving.

* “Let Weasley and Potter know that the irony isn’t lost on me that I fell in love with a Muggle,” he says with a grin, and Hermione smiles back.

* You walk out of the office to see Draco leaning against the building, a brown bag in hand

* He’s wearing that black on black suit

* God he looks yummy

* “Were you waiting for me?” You’re probably grinning when he leans down to greet you with a kiss, grabbing your hand with his free on

* Fingers intertwining as you walk down the street

* “I got finished early, thought I would surprise you with some of your favorite food,” he says the paper bag rustling in his hand

* “My place or yours,” you ask, and Draco gulps

* He puts on his best smile

* “Yours is probably best”

* He strips off his coat the moment he asks in, before helping you out of yours

* “You’re being so attentive today,” you say with a giggle while he tucks your hair behind your ear

* “Just missed you is all,” he says with a smile

* “Hard day at work?” You ask setting your keys down and you see Draco shrug

* “A little” a tiny reassuring smile curled onto his face

* “I’ll get us some wine,” you say “white or red?”

* “Surprise me”

* He takes a seat on your couch, leg bouncing

* It has to be now

* He has to do it now

* You come back with two glasses of rosé

* “I thought you said my options were white or red?” He says taking one of the glasses

* “And you said ‘surprise me’”

* He laughs, setting the glass down on a coaster

* “You know there’s no one else like you in the world, you’re an original piece” he’s teasing, but it’s not unkind

* You banter back:

* “Well I didn’t see you complaining about my originality last month when you proposed to me”

* He smiles at you

* And you know exactly what’s about to happen

* Before his hand dips into his pocket

* Before you see the velvety box, which creaks open to reveal a formidable diamond ring

* Before Draco says

* “That’s right, I love your originality, I love everything about you. And I want nothing more than to spend my entire life being surprised by you”

* “Will you marry me?”

* Yes

* Of course, it’s a yes

* How could it not be?

* You don’t realize you’re crying until Draco’s thumbs wipe away the tears on your cheeks

* Your mouth opens to tell him that you want nothing more than to surprise him for the rest of your life too, nothing more than to stay by his side

* When he stops you

* “Before you answer, there’s something you need to know, something I haven’t been 100% honest about”

* Draco averts his gaze and you feel anxiety gnaw at you

* What sort of terrible thing could it be?

* He looks straight into your eyes with those warm Grey orbs

* Gulps, and says:

* “I’m a wizard (Y/N)”

#harry potter imagine #harry potter #Draco Malfoy #draco malfoy x you #Draco Malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy imagine #harry potter headcanon #harry potter hogwarts mystery #harry potter x reader #draco malfoy reader insert #draco malfoy headcanons #harrypotter imaginess

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sugar-petals · 4 years

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hey angel (m)

♡ sub!felix + reader

↳ The JYP Halloween party is ditched on short notice. That means: You have a down-to-celebrate boyfriend in full angel costume on your hands.

words. 5k

tags. domestic au, finger sucking, hickeys, latex, corruption kink, fingering, vaginal sex, footjob, harnesses, cunnilingus, kitten antics, edging, aftercare

★⎡CARO’S NOTE⎦› here goes the cutie on duty 👼

genre. domestic + smut/crack

„So sorry mate,“ Bang Chan’s voice resounds through the speaker. „I thought it could work but… We can’t celebrate tonight. Really sorry, Felix. Changbin and I already got dressed up too, but, you know things got shut down. JYP won’t let us with the Corona rules and stuff.“

„Oh no…“

„Yeah, man. Looks like we’ll have to do it next year.“

„You even prepared the food already, right?“

„We’re handing it out to staff and eat it at home. I know, it sucks. I spent half the morning in the kitchen. I can like keep the pumpkin cookies so you can eat them tomorrow after practice or so.“

„I feel so sorry Chan… and thank you.“

„I’ll be calling Hyunjin and Han now as well. Really sorry we’re cancelling short notice. I hope you’re still having a nice evening bro. Maybe we can make it happen for Christmas.“

„Okay. Cheers mate.“

„Yeah, cheers.“

Felix puts his phone down looking more than deflated in his angel costume, puffs out a big sigh. You can tell he really looked forward to this. Just an hour before, you bothered to sew the wings in place rather than rely on the wobbly back-pack like construction that came with it.

They’re firmly attached to his white top now, and all for nothing. He glued them together by himself with a pack of synthetic feathers ordered on Etsy for a ridiculous shipping cost, along with a little halo that he clipped into his hair. Which, because maybe it really does sense his mood, dangles low and even a bit lopsided over his head.

„It’s the party of the year,“ Felix flops down on the living room couch. “I can’t believe this.“

You sit down opposite to him, starting to clean off the table where masses of cosmetic products and leftover feathers have piles up.

„Next time, Lixie. We can keep the costume. Poor Chan, he organized the living shit out of everything.“

„I’ll just go and shower, get this off, and stuff,“ he points at his face. Felix applied his own makeup with a little help from you here and there, including some golden sparkles. Just yesterday, he bleached his hair. It’s sculpted down to every strand with hair spray now. Felix unties his sneakers with the little gold stars on. Just before he starts plucking off his halo, you get an idea, pick up your phone from the table.

„Wait— Let’s at least make some pictures with your phone, you put so much effort in this. You look so cute. The fans might want to see it as well.“

„Oh! You’re right,“ Felix stops right in his tracks. „For Instagram.“

After tightening his sneakers again and you making sure the halo sights right, Felix walks around your flat in search for a nice backdrop. You follow, quickly flipping through some filters to try, and adjusting the flash on the camera.

After posing at the fridge — strange idea — and in the bathroom turns out a little awkward as well, you decide that such an elaborate costume needs a themed background, and only the bedroom offers just that. You recently changed the duvet to sky blue sheets with clouds on them. The overall interior is mostly clean white as well, with some thrifted vintage furniture. Fairy lights, heavy curtains, a wooden ceiling. Perfect.

„We’ll caption it as… post your own stay-at-home costume, something like that,“ Felix plops down on the bed, acting as if he just took a seat on the cloud in the very middle.

„Sounds pretty good,“ you press release, and the first picture pops up on your screen. „Can you turn a little towards the light? That the sparkles are showing.“

„Yay, I love the sparkles!“

„Just like this, just like this. Don’t move. The sparkles!“

A five-picture series of more snapshots ensues, with you adjusting Felix’s face a few times by hand, even, turning his chin by sheer millimeters to find the perfect angle. He’s stunning.

„I have another idea.“

„Oh?“

„I remember what I wore for Halloween three years ago. The costume must be somewhere. I think it fits together with yours.“

„What, oh wow?“

„What was it again, wait…“

You already begin to sort through your wardrobe, checking each hanger, each drawer, end up where you store your socks, and finally pull out a larger plastic zip bag from the very depths of all that chaos. There it is. Nice.

„Lix, if you’d turn around for me, please.“

He immediately does. Blushing.

„Thank you, angel.“

You pull off your sweat pants, your grey shirt, socks, your bra. Time to dress up. Only your simple black panties stay on. On goes a pair of scarlet stockings, snug and high. Then, a dark red latex skirt that goes in big circles and flounces, down to the mid-thigh.

Added: A tight sleeveless peplum top that admittedly… and deliberately squeezes your boobs a little. Not too much. More important is that your nipples are showing right through, and the cleavage is sweeping, every demon would be salivating at your feet. If an angel does: Remains to be tested.

Around your waist and chest and over your shoulder goes a black harness, pulling everything together. Some very pointed, glossy pumps with thin heels complete the costume. They’re not crafted to be walked on in the very least, their balance is terrible. You’re planning something else with them. Cherry on top: Devil horn headband. Really curved and pointy, too. Can’t go wrong. You click your tongue and take a spin. The skirt flares out perfectly. Ready to go.

„Felix, time to turn around.“

He does. You can tell he didn’t cheat.

„You’re, you’re so hot in this,“ Felix buries his face right in the comfort of his sweater paws, hoping they would not give away his embarrassed little face. But — his voice does, effortlessly so.

„Come on, have a look at me. Real closely, angel, come. You’re allowed to.“

Felix gazes through his fingers with what sounds like a little meep! in a much more high-pitched tone than his usual speaking range. He’s cute.

„Hey pum’kin. Miss Lucifer speaking. Where’s the barbecue?“

Felix and you recently agreed that hell must be one big and extremely hot cave where everyone’s grilling and having a good time. Australia, essentially.

„Welp!“

„Damn right. Infiltrating God’s realm one cloud at a time. Any last words?“

„It’s so intimidating!“

Felix digs himself into a mountain of pillows on the bed, with only his eyes and nose peeking out. You shrug, adjust your horns.

„Hm. Time for my first satanic act I guess.“

„Oh no!“

„Wait just one minute, be a sweet and patient boy.“

You leave Yongbok confused given that you’re quick to hurry to the kitchen. However, what you return with puts a giggle on his lips right away.

„Boom. It is served.“

„Yes, yes, please!“

Poufy black cocoa cupcakes. The ones with the cute little ghost frosting on it, and the melted chocolate inside. Felix finds them irresistable since the last Halloween party, to the point where you bake them mid-July. The current set of cupcakes was meant to be a contribution to Bang Chan’s eerie and delectable buffet. As for now, they’re in deep need of someone hungry since you made a lot of them, assuming a post-workout Changbin would devour at least five or more.

„Good move,“ he admits, a little shaky, and you proceed to tray the cupcakes on the bed — stuffing Felix for a solid ten minutes until there’s chocolate all over his face. What you’ll be quick to confess is that you’ve been deliberately messy feeding him, with all the crumbs in particular.

„Spoiled honey bun,“ you plant a kiss on top of his head.

„These taste so good, I swear.“

Next up is Felix who has to carefully maneuver the sweet treats into your mouth without spoiling your outfit.

„If you get crumbs into my cleavage, I can’t put your face in there later you know.“

Fierce nodding.

„That’s the spirit.“

Under your eagle eyes, he proves to be an obedient little cherub doing his job pretty well. The cakes are delicious in how spongy they are, and the liquid chocolate warms up so well on the tongue, it melts even more. You’re more than pleased and have Felix store away the remaining four pieces only after quite a while.

„I’ll have them for Brekkie, woo!“ is what he’s fast to proclaim, and you agree he’ll need them the next morning. Once you’re done with him, that’s gonna count as a hangover even Chan’s wildest party couldn’t give him.

„We’re talking dinner first, Felix.“

At this point, all the sugar is kicking in. Or it’s the chocolate being some kind of aphrodisiac. Whatever, could be either, you’re feeling like you’re up there at the ceiling, and you’re not the only one. Felix coming back to the bedroom so bouncy and cutieful just gets you even more in the mood.

You sit at the edge of the bed, slanting backward just a little. „You look like you need some more corruption, I won’t lie,“ you pat your lap, beckoning. He can ditch wifi because this is his favorite hot spot waiting for him. Felix sits down looking tiny as ever, eyes full of anticipation and his pants full of… big fat late night erection.

„I don’t mind at all, Miss. I don’t, oh my god…“ he mumbles into his nonexistent Aussie trucker beard, and you’re clear that whatever the skirt did to him, his brain must be doing kangaroo somersaults right now. In the meantime, something very eager is poking right at your lower belly. Captain Boomerang already came fully armed tonight and the Suicide Squad isn’t even anywhere near to be seen.

„Oh hey hey, cupcake. Getting really big there,“ you wipe at the curled little corners of his mouth. Some crumbs come off. His lips already twitch the way you know they want to do naughty things on you. He doesn’t seem to notice. Autopilot Felix has already taken over.

„Don’t hurry with it,“ he stares, mouth half-open, but his little grinds prove him a dirty — in an entirely direct sense — fucking liar. Like he’s literally rubbing himself against your stomach.

„Boy oh boy. You’re not even trying.“

„I’m fucked!“ is what Felix soon realizes with the daggers you’re shooting at him through your hopefully very satanic-looking eyes right now. Alongside catching up with his darn hips doing their own thing.

„You are.“

„I’m sorry for grinding, God help me!“

„He won’t. Cuz I’m here on your cloud. Cue stage number two of my demonic plan. Safeword?“

„It’s chocolate!“

„Mh. Good pick.“

The rest as usual. Tapping the thigh, yellow for pause, towels plus water ready, and always double-checking the lube in case of Jisung putting a glass of vegemite under your bed as his latest practical joke. Yes, it happened. It’s a whole new level of demonic. On the other hand: perhaps Felix’ ass could’ve actually handled it, Made in Australia it is.

„Let’s go honey angel,“ you curl at his hair with a little finger just to tease him a little more. The answer is a little meow, at this point Felix’ communication skills have simplified to kitten vocabulary which always happens when he is nervous and looking forward to something.

Next thing poor Felix knows, his face has entered the scorching satanic abyss that is your cleavage. Literally, you’re burning up. It’s fucking October and Felix has you breaking a sweat from all your horniness (literally, your horns are just that chic) already. Twice the reason to punish the shit out of him. If that can be considered anything near a punishment.

A shower of various „Mh— nh!“ and mewling noises comes to rain down on you while Felix face takes a trip down mammary lane, and that, too, is literal. He’s salivating. So much about rain. Actually, great lubrication. Felix always does things best by instinct.

„Yes, good boy. Great job.“

Now that his mouth is wet already, you’re unceremonious about shoving your fingers right down his throat after he resurfaces. Blushed, hard, and ready to choke himself since he’s already running short on breath. It doesn’t take long until he’s gagging himself stupid and the sparkles under his eyes start running.

„Pretty, pretty,“ you lean down a little, kissing his nose. „Give me all you got.“

„Gh—gch—“

The answer is as slobbery and unintelligible as can be. To a normal human, at least. You’re a demonic top. That automatically means having an Ivy League major in gag noise translation.

„Oh yes, I know,“ you stroke his hair, using your free hand that usually rests at the back of his neck. „Talk to me about it. Exactly what I was thinking. Do go on.“

And he does, louder than ever. If there’s one satisfying sound, it’s this, that heavenly deep voice doing all kinds of nasty acrobatics is making you go crazy. That Felix is absolutely close to cumming in his angel pants is very much clear to you given how the veins and muscles on his neck are having a chaotic Halloween party on their own.

Which includes his tongue taking turns on your two fingers as well. And a wide-eyed Felix struggling, swallowing, holding on to your shoulders with his little feet twitching in their sneakers. Like mad… and you love it. But also — hopelessly sucking and moaning and slurping and squealing until his neck has way too much saliva on it for you not to make it your next target. Felix is so good at this. Way too good.

„Looks delicious,“ you lean in, your hair tickles his ears. And now, you’re busy nibbling, biting a little… and most importantly, giving Felix a wet hickey that will send his makeup artist — my God, you really torture the unsuspecting man almost weekly — into a meltdown. Rowdy and unholy is the look you’re going for.

In the meantime, Felix is still wrapped up trying to hit your fingers at the back of his throat. If his cute bouncy run and rude boner moment didn’t turn you on already, now you would be. The way he’s just sucking in his own spit makes you realize that you won’t ever need a fire brigade for your flat.

You emerge from his neck and raise your brows. Felix is just hard-wired to impress. „Just how much saliva can you produce!“

„Ch… Mnh— Nh…“

Hitting some more complex syntax and consonants there, is he.

„Oh, I get it now. You stayed hydrated during the day. Thanks for explaining, mate. That’s the secret.“

Whether that’s perfectly scientifically correct down to the enzyme theory and shit neither of you can google right now. At least you know that you’re both drenched on either end so that’s that.

Once Felix is so horny from deepthroating your damn hand that he has pull off and yellow-word, you’re already prepared for introducing a new position which you can prepare while he’s gathering himself and wiping off his chin. You hand him a second towel for his neck, and present him a little hand mirror to see how the hickey turned out.

„It’s shaped like, hm,“ he pants, words still slurring a little. „I dunno! It’s really cute!“

„Let me see… No doubt that’s a rice cake hickey. That’s the shape.“

„You’re right!“

And off he goes snapping a selfie with it while you get comfortable on your back, cleaning your own fingers.

„Just don’t upload that one to Insta instead of the cloud shots, we’re not gonna survive another Manager call at 1:15 AM.“

„Can I use your phone for it? That’s where it’s supposed to be on, anyway.“

Felix giggles a little. That cute brat. Always knowing how it’s done.

„Sure babe!“

And voilà, Felix is already occupied setting a good view of his new rice cake-shaped friend as your phone background. Good thing, helps his erection cool down a little, he was about to blow up his poor white pants. The acceptable unfair feat being that he’s just riling you up even more like that on the other hand.

„If you come to mommy now,“ you wriggle one foot in the air, the other splayed on the duvet, knee slightly bent. „Rubbing her pussy and doing your thing, you know how it goes.“

„Angel duties calling! What am I doing!“

At the speed of sound, Felix stores your phone back on the bedside table and crawls over in an instant. He props his chin on your abdomen and blinks.

„Sorry Ma’am. At your service. Never wanna keep you waiting.“

A big smile rouses his cheeks, and you boop them from either side. His peach fuzz is so soft and his eyes are so beautifully dark. You don’t waste any time keeping your skirt down for any longer. Another blink and Felix is already pawing — well, kneading and caressing technically — between your legs. He’s visibly understanding just how wet the whole finger sucking circus has left you now.

„What if I used my heels on your cock, boo. Still no cumming. Just my heels and my lil’ prince.“

Satanic plan stage number three. Felix has gotten to savor it last Christmas and for his birthday, and some time around the holidays in summer.

„I love it yay!“ Felix claps his hands. Baby, baby.

„C’mere then. Just keep on rubbing.“

His arms are fairly long enough. While you’re dragging the slender heels of either shoe right across the outlines on his crotch, Felix, eyes loosely closed, maintains a steady rhythm on your clit with three fingers lined up on the fabric of your panties.

„Oh fucking hell, Felix, shit—“

Whenever you masturbate, that alone would never do. You’d get frustrated after a while. Need more stimulation. But when Felix is on angel duty to keep your pussy soaked, it doesn’t need much to make your clit throb, even with your underwear still on. Guess that God’s little helpers know how to work their magic to make your head spin.

He’s hitting the right spot, with the right moves, and his other hand doesn’t miss out on a single opportunity to stroke at both the in- and outside of your thighs. The touch is so subtle, you twitch. Felix strokes on, delirious himself. His eyelids flutter.

„Fuck…“

Despite the little pause from earlier taking out most of his tension, your heels leave Felix with pants that are even more bulged out. That’s making it easy to direct your feet to jerk up and down at either side. You’d never know either of you would be so into this. Foot fetish and all.

Once he’s edged you to the point of moans, last thing you properly remember is calling it quits with the panties and telling him to line himself up. The heels kicked off, the skirt still on, you decide that unpacking your Halloween treat has been long overdue. You slide his pants down, roll down a pink condom, and grab his cock at the base to glide it all over your wet lips.

„Lix, come fuck me. You got me all horny. Satan is recruiting.“

„With me it’s not sinning,“ he smiles, brighter than the sun and you do right along. It’d be hard not to. Felix truly has the innocence of a virgin, the subtle confidence of an intermediate, the caution of a pro, and the kindness of a real veteran.

„You’re right about that Felix,“ you say, prop your entrance at the very tip, let the wetness do its job. „Come kiss your honey girl.“

And he does. Entering you with care for the right angle, letting your hip do the rest. What’s been circling and sucking your fingers so deliciously is now doing a hot job teasing and pleasing your tongue all over. His lips are amazingly soft and plump, they open so gently and feel electric on yours. A gentle squeeze around your left breast sparks a moan into the kiss from you. It’s Felix massaging your breasts while deepening his penetration, and you can tell the vegemite can stay under the bed today. You can tell Felix is getting more than flustered knowing it was all him who made you this dripping wet.

Even his dick seems to blush in sync. It’s fucking pink and red. Oh wait, that’s the condom. But knowing him and from your viewpoint, it’s still more flushed than before, no kidding. Faithfully pumping in and out of you at its full length now. You wrap your legs around his waist, the thrusts become deeper, shorter, parting you open much more, and filling you out so properly.

„So good. Right there, angel. Just right there. I’m loving that.“

Felix has a great dick. Best handy size, the girth’s comfortable, all nice and bendy, virtually no curve, you can always gyrate on it in any way and even take a complete 180 if you go from cowgirl to reverse (which you’d be doing right now but he’d crush his wings if he were on his back like that so no). Cherry on top, compact but soft balls that don’t steal the show but still do the trick during doggy. They’re whipping up the best cum in the world, so.

The slow kissing goes on and on and Felix tries to walk the tightrope of neither letting your pussy lips suck the orgasm out of him, nor making you cream his cock with shaky legs from all that gorgeous sloppy friction, and the kissing, and his sweet cherry shampoo scent that has your brain in absolute limbo.

With everything hanging by a thread like that, every kiss becomes special and full of a suspense that makes your lips tremble — either set, and Felix can hardly bear it himself.

His little halo is dangling back and forth, and you can tell by his face that all that thrusting has him in serious trouble. And you? Are fucking leaking and groaning, and that little shallow series of first contractions before your orgasm is already preparing you.

The sugar high from the cupcakes is fading, but your adrenaline is sure to replace it. You just want Felix to fuck you more and rock against him, and hold his head, and kiss him. God, his mouth is so warm and inviting, tastes so good like cocoa.

The pace joins yours without any effort, it adapts when your rhythm changes, and it stabilizes everything when you’re currently riding the high of his cock really filling you out so you can clench your muscles around him, feel him and tell him just you wait, I’ll milk you. He’s such a good kisser. You can feel all of your wetness running down your ass like it’s Christmas.

„Felix, I’m overflowing.“

„I’m so sorry,“ he whines into the kiss. „I’ll be washing the sheets.“

„Listen, baby,“ you break the tongue-on-tongue, „you doing laundry is really sexy. But the overflow is the best part. Just look what you’re doing to my body.“

You could ravage him on the spot. He’d probably lose it and cum in two seconds. Holding yourself before the edge is so tough right now.

„Shit… yellow again. Need a moment.“

Felix has to resort to a bit of cockwarming, and you use the little break to rid yourself off the harness. It’s not perfectly comfortable when you’re lying down. You’re about to fling it off the bed that Felix asks to wear it. Oh. Very well. It actually goes as a nice contrast on his white top, and the straps make it easy to adjust to him. And he wants it to sit on him really tightly. Oh again.

You realize—

On you, it’s only a fashion piece. Something random that came with the costume.

On him: It’s kinky.

„Hey hey. You look sexy, pum’kin,“ you pat at his chest. „Look at your waist, wow.“

Your sweet boy. It’s like it’s made for him. So cinched and the exact opposite of his costume. He’s a corrupted, dirty angel now, it’s perfect. With his pink neck and all sweaty face, and his little puppy gaze that will haunt you in your sex dreams because it literally just gets into your pants so much. Oh god, you just wanna cum. You have to distract yourself with chaste images of Felix washing the dishes or writing grocery lists with little hearts and emojis on them but that just makes it five times worse.

The way he puts the harness on with his dick inside you is so mouthwatering and cumworthy, you can’t wait to resume and switch your own brains off on that angel cock. Once Felix is ready to exit phase yellow and resume the session, your hands magically gravitate towards the straps of the harness at this waist.

„Can I?“

„M—hm!“

You have the time of your life grabbing and guiding him by the harness, controlling every thrust. Felix clenches up his teeth from how lavishly his cock is squeezing into your pussy.

„Oh babe,“ you groan out. „Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me. Come on, angel.“

He’s not going to take it much longer. Felix is tensing all over, neck to the knees, it’s a huge shock wave in the making. That climax is going to be like a fucking punch into outer space.

„I’m really at my limit, I’m, I’m…!“

„Cum for me, angel,“ you reach to his neck to bring his lips down again. Your mouths going into shaky contact brings a big soaring moan with it.

„Ahn—!“

You lock lips, his face scrunches up, and you can tell that cum worth of three orgasms is currently pooling into the condom. You don’t belong to the mile high club, but going by how far up this feels, you might as well be. Those sweet shivers. And the little whines. It’s all too much for him, this one got him bad. Felix cumming is like the angels really are singing. With bells and harps and all that shit at once.

After pulling out, the ruined condom goes off lightning fast. Felix’ cock gets some much-needed cooling, but his face is on heavy duty. How he does it after almost getting his lights turned off, it’s a mystery, it must have been six whole loads he shot into you. You’d already be collapsing in his shoes. Felix still being able to put his mouth to work is an act of divine intervention. Honestly though, it doesn’t even take half a minute. Sloppy head from Felix is cryptonite, your stamina comes tumbling down. His tongue just knocks you out with an overwhelming rush of pleasure.

“Oh— yes...”

What is gravity? You don’t know what north and south mean anymore. He laps and sucks you through your high and your legs give up their soldier service. All you see it fluffy blonde strands of hair peeking from below your skirt, a glimpse of the harness, the rest is heavy growling and swearing from all of the contractions and Felix getting raw and dirty Down Under with no fears, literally none, to bury his face and move it around and let his tongue loose. Time and again Felix shows you he’s a swallower. Satanic agenda: success.

For tonight, your pussy will be nothing but glitter, cum, and spit. Swollen like crazy, properly fucked, and tipped to the absolute limit. Felix keeps on slicking up his face completely, and then brings you into the afterglow with his fingers. One at a time, barely adding stimulation. Just fetching you where you are and climbing down. Looks like you’ll share the cupcakes, this is a couple hangover in the making. In Felix’ case in particular. It’s like he signed up for testing a mad scientist’s latest designer drug.

„Wow wow… So you served me choco cupcakes and God’s menu,“ is the last thing he can say in his delirium before falling over. He’s so fucked out and went so wild on eating you, a part of the harness came off. Thank god his nose is so small, all that swiping could’ve broken the bridge and whatnot. And his lips, they’re twice as plump. You really have to compliment in on what his mouth has done today because that was some champ shit.

You’re both buffering on the sheets for a solid five minutes until you roll to the side. Towel… water… forehead kisses. Yes, forehead kisses most importantly. After gathering yourself a little, you pamper Felix into a heart rate around 90 rather than 120. And with the onset of exhaustion for the two of you, that’s not too hard after some minutes passing. Whispering sweet nothings and praise is all you do up until 2 AM and after. Felix is somewhere between worlds, one foot in the door of the dreamland, the other soaking up the care and the intoxicating, thick scent of the room that has a lot of cherry shampoo in it.

At some point. You loosen the harness, pull off his shirt with the wings attached. The halo you unsuccessfully try to spot in his hair. Turns out: It flew off. Felix really must’ve made Satan proud if it fell down just like that. Good job. Felix has earned a title of being a dirty angel now, and by the way he’s chugging water now, a wet one on top of that.

Five tons of spit, six, seven, who knows how many he’s afforded for today. A head pat is not enough, it has to be several, and Felix passes out onto the pillows. As good as you can, you wipe him down, bin the condom, get off his shoes and his half-pulled down trousers. After staggering to the bathroom, your skirt and peplum shirt follows, the stockings stay on, they’re cozy as hell. Last but not least, you remove your devil horns. It feels like they granted you the most unknown demonic powers.

Next time Felix is on his way to making you cum again, you’ll be wearing them, and you’ll last the way you did tonight. Meanwhile, Bang Chan is blowing up your phone because Felix pressed send by accident earlier, but you don’t notice. It just keeps on vibrating on the bedstand and Chris will have to riddle over the rice cake selfie for the rest of November.

Felix dozes with an angelic little smile on his lips and puffs his cheeks in his sleep, his makeup wiped and his hair truly messy. Instagram can wait. Maybe you’ll get to brush your teeth a little later, it usually takes some time until you wake up again and topple to the sink. You huddle together, tuck your sweet baby pum’kin into his second favorite spot at your chest. Ah, the glory of Felix little spooning.

As the last signature, you nibble at his ear, call him your cutie pie, and switch the lights off. You have to listen closely but if you do, it’s like Felix is purring in his sleep. Whatever your own dreamland is planning to launch on you tonight, you’re looking forward to it.

PS — oh, my good ole fellas, a last cursed disclaimer. i must insist on the following for obvious reasons. vegemite makes for some terrible strap lube okay 😂🇦🇺

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blueluneacy · 3 years

Text

Soaps and Special Drinks

I wrote a giant melone x reader off a fantasy i had at work. enjoy

word count: 4k

warnings: delusional yandere, not sfw, breeding kink, stalking, public sex, aphrodisiacs, forced drugging, major dub con, does making someone uncomfy at work count? idk but its there

You didn’t hear her until she called your name for the third time, and when you did, you nearly fell over.

“Oh god, what happened, what did I miss, I wasn’t asleep, my eyes were open!” You yelled, leaving your manager to jump.

“(Y/n), it’s okay, don’t worry!’ She said, laughing a bit to herself. “Don’t worry, I was just going to ask about what was happening and if you needed anything. But it looks like nothing is happening.” She sighed. You nodded, looking around the shop. You worked at a small, handmade soap. The soaps in here were beautiful, but the shop itself was quiet, only getting a few customers. The bulk of sales ended up being online at the owner’s etsy shop, with the actual building simply being in their family for the last 300 years, making it hard to part with. You didn’t mind, the soap was nice, you often got to take some of it home, and the work was easy. But you couldn’t deny that god, it was really god damn boring.

“Yeah, I’m alright. Sorry, I’m just… Really bored.” You laughed, your manager just sighing.

“I can take the front of shop for a bit and you can play on your phone or something. You don’t have to just stand there all day.”

“I don’t mind it. Gives me time to think. Besides, I see you playing on your phone in front of shop all the time, I know that I can do it right here if I wanted to.” You hummed, your manager just rolling her eyes.

“I put it away when a customer shows up, don’t you worry. And what is it that you’re always thinking about, huh? A boyfriend?” She teased. You rolled your eyes.

“You know that I don’t have anyone like that in my life. I end up thinking about stupid stuff. Like what would happen if cows became four feet taller, or something.” You told her. It was a lie, of course, but you could never admit what actually went through your mind.

After all, how could you admit that you were just sitting there thinking about otome games and anime characters? It was nice to sit and think about lots of handsome men loving you. Maybe you played too many video games or watched too much anime.

“Alright, alright. Keep sitting with your weird thoughts.” She teased, the two of you laughing before the bell at the door rang as it swung open.

The two of you stared as you saw the man walk in. He was so strangely dressed, and he was wearing a mask. Is this some sort of bad Dread Pirate Roberts cosplay? Half of his shirt was missing, which you sort of wanted to chalk up to bad sewing, but you also knew that it merely could be bad fashion. People around here are weird looking. He had choppy purple hair that covered one of his eyes, making you think that maybe the whole mask thing was meant to be an eye patch more than anything. You weren’t an expert in eyeball health. Still, you smiled brightly at the customer, not wanting to offend as you walked over to him, ready to assist in any way possible.

“Hello, Welcome! Is there anything in particular that you were looking for today?” You asked, Melone looking over at you before his eyes widened. God, you were just so… So god damn cute! The apron you were wearing hugged your curves so well, your body was so cute in the way you held yourself, smiling as you looked up at the man. He could just notice your tummy under the apron, a shudder going through his body as he saw your bright, smiling demeanor looking up at him.

“Oh, I heard that there were handmade facial products here? I’m looking for something a little more natural in my skin care routine.” He replied, looking down to see your little name tag, smiling as he got the information. “Ah, I suppose then you could help me, (Y/n)?”

You forced your grin a little wider when he said your name, before nodding, waving him over and you brought him over to a little corner of the store. You don’t know why, but it seemed to only make you uncomfortable when people did things like read off your name tag. Which seems silly, after all, it was there for a reason, but still.

“Of course, sir, let me show you. Are you looking for something like a cleanser? We also have exfoliate scrubs, made all in house.” You told him. Melone just hummed, leaning over the products and moving a bit too much into your personal space as he pulled off his gloves.

“You can call me Melone, sweetheart, no need for the formalities. And do any of these have scents in their formulas? I would hate to break out from oils…” He asked, touching his face lightly. You just smiled, shaking your head. You took note of his name, trying to keep yourself smiling

“Any scents that the product has is from the actual parts, not from anything we add. Like, our coffee ground scrub smells like coffee, because you know. We also have some regular facial soap, all in bar form, that we have, if you’d like to see. I can also make some samples for you, and we have a sink where you can try out some of the testers we have out.” You told him. He just smiled, nodding as he looked around a bit.

“That’s all well and good, but what would you recommend before bed? I need to remove my makeup, and so many cleansers are for the morning.” He complained. You just smiled, looking around and grabbing the giant pot of what you were looking for.

“Here we go! This stuff kills at removing any makeup. It’s made with shea butter, honey and rose water, with a little bit of tea tree oil in there for that calming feeling.” You said, reaching in and using a little spoon to put some on one of the little dishes your store carried, and then handed it to him. “Go on, go to the sink and check it out! You should also really check out our poppy soap too, it has poppy seeds in it which honestly? My skin has never been better.” You chuckled. Melone looked at you, before smiling and nodding. If that soap was what gave you such a glow, then he would definitely have to try it. You sighed as you went back to the counter next to your manager, watching the man as he washed his hands, his eyes widening before he grabbed one of the little papers you had next to the table, and a pen. Since everything here was served in whatever amount the customer wanted, the shop kept papers for customers to make a list of what they wanted.

“What is it now, daydreaming about a customer?” Your manager teased, leaving you to roll your eyes.

“Do you want him instead? He was all in my personal space.” You replied.

“Oh, cheer up, he wasn’t that bad. A little weird, but harmless. And you really need to get used to the idea that Italians don’t have a notion of personal space. You practically lost it when that old lady grabbed your hand.”

“Hey, that was a while ago, that’s not fair! I think I’m used to it now, he’s just sort of creepy. Melone…” You mumbled his name to yourself, Melone’s ears perking up as heard you speak about him. Oh, your name sounded so good rolling off your tongue. He wanted to hear it over and over again, make you make the sound, scream it, moan it-

“I think I have my list ready, cara. Care to help me out?” Melone asked, coming over to the counter and leaning over it, handing the list over to you. You just took it from his hands, looking over the list before sighing.

“Can you get the bar soap while I get the cleanser?” You asked, writing down what you needed in the liquid before handing out the rest of the list to her. She nodded, walking off with a small smile on her face before you just sighed, going to get the cleanser. You grabbed one of the small glass jars you had, before putting it on the scale, taring it out after placing down the glass.

“Five hundred grams, right?” You asked, only for Melone to nod.

“Yes. It’s heavier, so it’ll be less than what I assume it’s going to be, so I might as well just go for it. I’ll use it anyway.” He replied, watching the way you reached into the pot and carefully scooped out the cleanser. You were so focused, he couldn’t help but imagine what you would look like in a domestic situation, maybe using a serving spoon to scoop out sauce for dinner, maybe just for the two of them. Maybe you would be in a cute little apron like the one you were in now, your feet bare and your hair loose as you grew heavy with his child-

In that moment, Melone felt a plan start to form in his mind.

The rest of the transaction went fine, in all honesty. Melone seemed as though he was suddenly in a hurry, that he forgot that he had something to do, purchasing his items and leaving with a quick “Ciao!”. You could tell that he was speed walking down the street, but you didn’t really care. Maybe you were over exaggerating, and he was just some normal gy, albeit oddly dressed. Still, it didn’t really matter to you. The fact that the store was empty meant that you could go back to your daydreams.

You were so grateful when the store finally closed. As the two of you locked up, you pulled your coat closer to your body, looking around.

“You should be careful now going home. It’s dark a lot earlier now, I’m afraid that maybe there might be some bad actors in the alleyways…” Your manager sighed. You nodded in agreement, the thoughts of how dangerous this city was becoming as Passione moved themselves in running through the both of your minds. Your manager had talked about moving, not wanting her kids to grow up here, and you couldn’t blame her. But both of you knew deep down that no matter where you went, the mafia probably lurked there somewhere.

“I will, don’t fret. Text you when I get home?” You asked, giving her a smile. She just smiled back and nodded.

“Don’t zone out and forget, alright? I’ll text you when I’m home as well!” She said, before waving, the two of you walking off in separate directions.

You hummed slightly to yourself as you walked down the street. You made sure to stay close to the streetlight, but you could swear that you could see something out of the corner of your eye, the feeling of being watched harsh in your stomach. You turned around often just to check, but no one was there. You must really be losing it today.

Still, it was like you were attracted to what was unknown. You instinctively started to move farther away from the streetlight, to try and see what exactly was going on in the shadows, but nothing was there. You barely even noticed how far you were in the dark until you passed by an alleyway. You didn’t even see the hand that shot out and grabbed onto your collar.

You immediately tried to scream, but you could barely make a sound as lips crashed into yours, your body pressed up against the wall as you squirmed. You winced as your head slammed against the wall, your vision tripling and a groan leaving your mouth and easily swallowed up by Melone. He pulled away, taking deep, harsh breaths, watching as you tried to focus on him.

“Don’t worry cara, it’s only me, didn’t mean to scare you, wanted to surprise you on your way home…” He cooed, pinning your hands above your head and moving to let his lips press against your neck, leaving light kisses and he hummed.

“Wha… Y.. You’re that guy from the soap shop! What are you doing, let me go!” You yelled, starting to squirm. Melone just pouted, as if you had told him a bad insult or you had genuinely hurt his feelings.

“Ah, don’t be like that, bambina. Are you mad because I embarrassed you at work? It’s alright, I’ll make it all better.” He hummed, reaching into his pocket to pull out a small vile. He used his teeth to pull out the cork, before letting a drop hit his tongue.

“Yep, it’s still good. Go on, drink this all down, and you’ll feel much better, carina.” He told you.

“Like hell I’m going to drink anything you give me-” Perhaps you shouldn’t have spoken. When you opened your mouth and started to yell at him again, he just shoved the vial into your mouth, pouring the liquid in before covering your mouth with his hand.

“It’s alright, I know it tastes awful, but you have to drink it all, amore, otherwise it won’t work.” Melone hummed. You just sat there, holding the foul tasting liquid in your mouth before finally caving and swallowing. It wasn’t like you had much of a choice. When Melone felt that you had swallowed, he pulled his hand away, leaning over and pressing a gentle kiss against your forehead.

“Di molto… Good, thank you. It means a lot to me that would trust me like that.” Like you had any other fucking choice. You just let your eyes narrow as you continued to let them dart around for some sort of escape.

“What exactly did you fucking give me?” You hissed, Melone laughing a bit.

“Well, I suppose you’ll feel it momentarily, won’t you? Liquid medication only takes one to four minutes to assimilate…” He hummed. You swallowed, feeling that your mouth was starting to feel really dry. It felt like everything was getting hotter, until your whole body was on fire. You let out a soft whine when you finally opened your mouth to let out a few pants, suddenly out of breath, before squirming again. This time, to try and get rid of the heat that was engulfing you.

“W-What is this?! Please, it’s so hot, what did you do?!” You cried out, internally cringing at how desperate your voice sounded. But Melone just ate it all up, leaning in to press his body against yours, the outline of his cock making you shudder. God, think, what was happening to you?!

“It’s one of the best aphrodisiacs out there. Only the best for you, bella, I want to make sure that you feel amazing throughout all of this…” He told you, before pressing his lips against yours. You tried to struggle, but god, you were feeling so weak as the drug coursed through your veins, and Melone’s lips felt so good against yours. You felt your knees get weak, your body slipping down the wall that you were leaning against as it became harder and harder for you to support your own weight. Melone just pulled away, watching you sink to the ground as if weighed down by your own lust, smirking to himself. You were so beautiful like that. Melone could see the way you were tugging at your clothing, trying to get them off in some relief from the hell that consumed you. He just chuckled, pulling you up and making you lean on him. You just ended up grabbing onto Melone tightly, trying to take deep breaths.

“Don’t worry bambina. I bet it hurts bad right now, doesn’t it? Maybe I should’ve opened you up first…” Melone thought aloud, before shrugging. Too late now. He reached down to start to pull your panties off, the other arm wrapped around you and firmly holding you against him. He shuddered at the way your soft body pressed up against him, holding onto him like it was the end of the world.

“Don’t worry, (Y/n). I’ll make this heat go away, make you feel all better. You’ll feel perfect and well once you’re fucked full of my children.” He hummed. Despite yourself, you just nodded, desperate for a suggestion that would mean that you would feel better.

Melone practically jumped in delight, easily pushing two fingers inside of you, relishing in how wet you had become, to the point where you were starting to slick your legs. You moaned, gripping onto Melone tightly and starting to whine shrilling, babbling back at him.

“O-Oh fuck, that feels so good, fuck, please, Melone, pleeeeease…” You whined, already trying to buck against his fingers. It felt so good, but it wasn’t enough, it just wasn’t enough to satisfy you, to make you feel whole again.

“You’re tempting me so much, bambina. You make me want to fuck you right now, god, you’re going to be so full when I’m done with you, my cute little wife.” He told you as he added another finger, scissoring you open. God, if you could hold yourself up, Melone would have no problem getting on his knees and eating you out until you came all over his face. He wondered what cute, fucked out faces you would make after cumming five, ten, a hundred times for him. He felt his cock twitch in his trousers and did his best not to get ahead of himself. He wanted to make sure that you felt just as good as he did, but god, you were making it so hard with those cute faces of yours! The way you were clinging to him, gasping and moaning like a bitch in heat, begging him for more, it was all so much.

“P-Please, fuck, more… It’s still so hot, please, need you so bad…” You mumbled, moving to rest your head against his shoulder as he thrust his fingers into you. He let out a low moan at your words, his hips slightly bucking against you for it. He was so pent up, not wanting to waste a single drop until he found the perfect person to fill up with it, and here you were, all perfect and begging him to breed you full of his children.

“Aww, poor thing. Perhaps I gave you a bit too much…” Melone sighed, pulling his fingers out of you and leaving you to whine in frustration. He pushed his fingers into his mouth and just moaned, shuddering as he tasted your juices. You grabbed onto him tighter, begging for some sort of relief from this hell. When Melone finally pulled his fingers from his mouth, he let his own lips crash against yours, pushing your back against the wall and pressing your chest against his to hold you up while his hands moved to rip his cock out from his trousers.

It was nice, bigger than you expected, and you could see that Melone was well groomed about himself as well. In any normal circumstance, you would be continuing to scream, but as Melone started to rub his cock against you, slicking himself up with your juices, you just moaned.

“Yes, fuck yes! Please, more, give me more, god, fuck me already!” You cried out, squirming and trying to make Melone’s cock catch to try on your entrance. Melone just groaned, moving a hand to grab your hip, before pushing into you slowly. He threw his head back as he moaned, his nails digging into you as he started to move, only pulling his cock out half way before slamming back, leaving you to whine in return.

“Oh, cara, you’re so tight, fuuuuck… You’re so perfect, fuck, my pretty little wife, gonna be such a great mother, fill you up and keep you full of my babies-” Melone groaned, leaning forward and leaning on your shoulder, babbling his nonsense into your ear. And you just ate it all up, nodding and wrapping your arms around him and digging into his back, whining.

“Fuck, yes, please… Feels so good, please, Melone, pleeease…” You whined, holding onto him tightly as you tried to grind against him. Your words were enough to really spring Melone into action, starting to pound against you wildly, mouthing as your neck and leaving harsh bruises. You just scratched at him in return, leaving red welts that might even turn into bruises tomorrow. Melone groaned at the idea of you marking him so primally, the feeling of you marking him as yours just as he was marking you as his.

“God, you’re all mine, aren’t you? Love you so much, (Y/n), gonna keep you safe, warm, all mine, I’m yours just as much as you’re mine, fuck-” His teeth dug into his lip as he felt the way you were clenching down on him, the signal that your orgasm was fast approaching. Really, it was a miracle that you haven’t cum once or twice already, but perhaps it was something in the back of your mind that was holding you back, keeping you from finishing.

“Mmm, I can feel you’re close… Di molto, that’s perfect, do you want to cum while I breed you? It’ll be a great way to make sure it goes as far as it can.” Melone groaned into your ear, his voice sultry and husky in a way that filled your foggy head with static, only pulling Melone closer as you tried to chase your own orgasm.

“Yes, yes please, fuck, it’s too much, I’m gonna cum, please let me cum, please-” You mewled, on the verge of tears from how pent up you felt, grabbing onto Melone as if he would disappear if you let go.

“Fuck, good, then cum, cum on my cock, make me breed you, gonna fill you up so much, so perfect and soft and round, do it, cum for me, God-!” His voice was practically as a howl as his movements became jerky, before finally thrusting in and bottoming out inside of you, finally cumming. It was the feeling of him pushing inside of you that one last time that set you over the edge, a loud keen coming from you as you squeezed down on Melone, starting to milk him for all you could.

The two of you rode at your orgasms together, quiet panting and whimpers from the both of you as Melone finally pulled out of you. You practically collapsed as he let you go, free from the burning heat but now exhausted beyond all belief. Melone caught you, holding you up with his arms and chuckling a bit. You shuddered as you felt some of Melone’s seed drip down your leg, leaving Melone just to purse his lips.

“We shouldn’t be wasteful like that. I should’ve brought a plug, poor thing…” He sighed, reaching down to scoop up what fell and push it back inside of you. You moaned at the sensation, giving him a look to let him know that you were much too sensitive right now. He just laughed at your expression, before easily scooping you up in his arms.

“Well, I suppose it doesn’t matter. We have all the time in the world once we get home.” Melone hummed. You stared at him incredulously, trying to figure out what the fuck he meant. You started to squirm a bit, but you were much too exhausted to really put in an effort to get away from him.

“Hmm? Well, of course I’m going to bring my wife home.” Melone hummed, petting your hair lightly. Your face went pale at the realization, but there was nothing you could do. Even if you could get out of his arms, you were too weak to run away away from him. You were stuck, hopelessly trapped with a madman, forced to listen to his deranged cooing as he made his declaration.

“We have a lot more work to be done if we’re going to make you a mother.”

#jjba imagines #jjba x reader #jjba/reader #yandere/reader #yandere fic #yandere x reader #writing #My writing #mine #NOT SFW #melone/reader #melone x reader #dub con

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lady-divine-writes · 3 years

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Kurtbastian one-shot - “Cake by the Ocean” (Rated PG13)

Summary: Kurt is having a problem finding jeans that fit, and Sebastian is being his usual helpful self. (1336 words)

Notes: So, yeah - skater's ass is a huge problem when trying to buy jeans XD Also, I named this one-shot after the song since it plays all the time now at the rink ;)

Part 70 of Outside Edge

Read on AO3

"Babe? Oh, ba-abe?" Sebastian sings, raising his voice so he can be heard over his boyfriend's groaning. "Why do you insist on torturing yourself like this?"

"I'm not torturing myself... urgh! I'm... grrr... on a mission!"

"Be that as it may, if it hasn't happened by now, it's not gonna."

"Way... to stay... positive," Kurt growls.

"Exactly. I'm positive this is not gonna happen."

Kurt huffs, shoving aside his boyfriend's unnecessary negativity and bracing himself for the exertion to come. He blows out three times through teeth clenched behind a Chanel logo mask, then sucks in and tugs hard. He holds his breath, tenses his abs, and squeezes his tush, pulling with all his might until his biceps bulge and his elbows shake with fatigue.

It doesn't work. Not an inch. But he's far from giving up.

He refuses to admit Sebastian might be right.

He can't be. Not here. Not in Kurt's sanctuary.

"You've gotta stop this, Kurt! You're going to hurt yourself!"

"Passion... is... pain!"

"I don't need you dislocating your knee three weeks before your next qualifier!"

"It's not like I'm... nnn... attempting to parkour up the Empire States Building! I'm just... mmph... trying on a pair of jeans!"

"We've talked about this a hundred times though! You're not going to find anything off the rack. Not with that cake you're packing."

Kurt grunts, snuffling like a pig, then his obscene noises skid to a halt. "Nice."

"Skater's ass is a thing, babe. It exists. And Goddamn... " Sebastian whistles low, picturing Kurt in his latest costume - blood-red and completely blinged out Spandex clinging to his perfectly round rear tighter than his own friggin' skin, and those delightful, flesh-colored mesh cut-outs, strategically placed... Sebastian usually cringes at the sexualized costumes some skaters wear. But when it comes to Kurt, his ass gets a pass. "You have definitely got one."

"You've bought jeans off the rack before," Kurt laments, steering the conversation away from graphic discussion about his butt. Sebastian has no filter, and there are children in the other dressing room stalls. "And... ngh... Blaine has, too!"

"That was dumb luck."

"I want to get lucky!"

An uptight mom glares in their direction. She covers her precious boy's ears and stomps away in disgust, but Sebastian's knees buckle.

"Keep making those noises," he mumbles, sucking in his lower lip like he's kissing Kurt, "and you will."

"What?"

"Uh... " Sebastian clears his throat. "It helps when you have a personal shopper and a tailor on call. There's no shame in having your shit altered, by the way."

"I guess. It just seems so... mmph... high-maintenance for a pair of jeans."

Sebastian raises both eyebrows. "And that's not you how?"

Kurt sighs. A moment of silence follows, then the pair of jeans he's been wrestling cartwheels over the top of the dressing room door. Sebastian catches them. He slides them onto an empty hanger and returns them to the rolling rack with Kurt's other rejects.

"Are you going to help me? Or did you come just to insult me?"

"I'm not here to insult you," Sebastian says in a tone far from reassuring.

"I'm finding that difficult to believe."

"I’m not!” Sebastian swallows to keep from chuckling. He shouldn't pick on Kurt. But he can't help it. Kurt makes it too easy. Sometimes Sebastian can be the worst. He can admit it. He’s not proud. “You said we could get a soft pretzel after."

"Ha-ha," Kurt says dryly.

“God, I miss soft pretzels.”

“Good to know.” Another pair of jeans fly over the door and nails Sebastian in the face.

"Oomph!" Sebastian tosses the jeans aside with a comeback on deck but shelves it when he hears Kurt deflate. Sebastian leans against the door, squinting through the narrow slats. He spots Kurt slumped against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, staring at the floor. He looks so sad, Sebastian's snarky remark evaporates. "I'm sorry, Kurt. Believe it or not, I'm trying to lighten the mood."

"Buy some bleach and a 30 volume developer."

Sebastian smirks. "Very funny."

"No," Kurt grumbles. "Seriously. You're in desperate need of highlights. And you should consider doing something about those bangs. They're getting out of hand."

"No need to get personal."

"Sorry, not sorry. It's truth time."

"It’s heartbreaking to see you finally get out to do something you love and ending up depressed. Especially when I can make a phone call and order you three pairs of Gucci jeans that'll fit you like a glove and show up on your doorstep in less than a day."

"Trying the clothes on in the store is part of the fun." Kurt opens the door slowly. He sees Sebastian standing there, arm draped over the door frame, and maneuvers underneath. "It bums me out that I can find all the shirts I want, but I can't buy a single pair of pants to go with them. So if I want to wear a new outfit home, I either have to settle for the pants I wore here or go pantsless."

"And pantsless is a problem?"

"Yes. Pantsless is a problem."

"Pity," Sebastian says, hugging Kurt tight.

The pants aren't the problem.

Well, maybe they are a little.

The problem is society's rush to return to normal that scares the hell out of Kurt.

The residents of Ohio have not handled the pandemic well, to say the least. Lima, in particular, is filled with anti-maskers and anti-vaxxers. Kurt is a germaphobe, and he's not fond of crowds - two of the worst things for a figure skater. Except for the occasional bout of boredom and not seeing his mom as often as he wanted, Kurt embraced quarantine. The mask mandate may have denied the world his alabaster skin and chiseled cheekbones, but he made the best of it, using his exquisite sewing skills to create masks that became the envy of every rink from there to London. He opened an Etsy shop, advertised on social media, and had orders up the whazoo from day one. Even with mask mandates relaxing, he still gets new requests every day.

Kurt reveled in his forced hermitage.

He enjoyed being locked away with Sebastian.

Staying at Sebastian's house for the past year plus was like living in their own private paradise. There was no stress, no pressure. They had everything they needed and dealt with no one outside their bubble.

Even though Kurt launched right back into his routine as a figure skater and a coach the second the rinks opened again, Sebastian knows that going back terrifies him. But Kurt is resilient, one of the strongest guys Sebastian has ever met. He'll get back into the swing.

He just needs time.

"Is there anywhere else you'd like to try?"

Kurt leans into Sebastian's side, happy to have an inkling of his supportive boyfriend back. "No. If Nordies doesn't have what I want, no one will. I guess you were right."

"Oh no! Don't say that!" Sebastian says, giving Kurt a squeeze. "Nothing good comes from thinking I'm right."

"Don't worry. I don't really," Kurt jokes but with a smidge of defeat in his voice.

Sebastian kisses Kurt on the top of the head. "You're a smart man."

"I don't think I could stuff my legs into another pair of pants if I tried. I feel like I've landed thirty triples in the past half hour."

"Are you, maybe, willing to try one more pair? For me?" Sebastian grins. "I know a pair of pants you can get off the rack that will fit. I promise."

"Yeah?" Kurt asks, skeptical but optimistic. "And what's that?"

Sebastian snorts, so from the start, Kurt knows his answer won't be good. "Jeggings."

Sebastian snuffles. Then he guffaws. Kurt shakes his head. He slips out from under Sebastian's arm and starts speed walking away. "You're sleeping alone tonight."

"Aw! Kurt! Don't be like that! I bet Adam Rippon wears jeggings! He's got cake, too!"

"I'm leaving now... "

#kurtbastian #sebkurt #sekurt #Kurt Hummel #sebastian smythe

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idiopath-fic-smile · 3 years

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hey hi I've been trying to write something, anything, and what came out is like 3k of an extremely stupid supervillain/superhero story that I’d been kicking around in some form like over ten years ago. it doesn’t map onto any kind of an AU so I guess it’s original fiction? enjoy?

Cityton Chronicles, part 1

The problem with carrying out an evil scheme, thought Edmund, was the scheme part.

Anyone could nurse a sinister thought or two; it wasn't that hard to shake one's fist at the sky and murmur, “You'll pay for this. With God as my witness, oh, you will pay” and then maybe cackle a little. That much was child's play. (Literal child's play; he had witnessed more than a few dire pronouncements from his classmates at Hawthorne Grimmsbury's Academy for Ominous Boys, especially when recess was threatened.)

Actually going through with a plan was a whole different story. There were logistics to manage. There were people to manipulate, details to babysit, hypotheticals to anticipate. The nitty-gritty, as it were.

Edmund was not destined for the nitty-gritty.

Although, wasn't that what useless people always said? “I'm more of a big-picture person.” Maybe he was useless. Maybe that was the issue. Maybe Edmund Malarkey, heir to Malarkey Industries, was simply not cut out for masterminding.

Case in point, he had a terrible feeling he was about to make a complete hash of the Ritual.

The parameters were clear enough: full moon—check. Chalk for pentagrams—check. One hundred lit candles—check. (Some were scented; the store hadn't had enough plain tapers in stock, but the text of the Ritual had been written well before the notion of pumpkin spice was a cozy twinkle in some godless marketer's eye, and so Edmund figured this would probably not disqualify him.) Thirteen hooded figures, all in black...

This was where things got dicey.

The first sign of the trouble to come was when Carl showed up in navy fucking blue.

Edmund pinched at the bridge of his nose and sighed loudly, breath crystalline in the late November air. The invitations had been so specific.

“It looked pretty dark online,” Carl offered as the wind whipped at them atop the roof of the Cityton Natural History Museum.

“Pretty dark? Pretty dark? Did it look like the blackest black?” said Edmund. “Did it look like Anish Kapur's most haunting nightmare? Did it look like a raven's wing in shadow at the stroke of midnight, Carl?” Carl stuck out his chin. “It's almost black.”

“Yes, and bananas and humans share about sixty percent of their DNA, we're almost cousins,” Edmund told him, dangerously quiet, “but fortunately for you, I'm not going to peel you and eat you in a fruit salad, you buffoonish optimist.”

Edmund should never have relied upon his father's former henchpeople. They were loyal to his father; they looked upon him with bemused tolerance. He should've just gone ahead and recruited all of the necessary twelve people from Craigslist. He'd held off due to a suspicion that anyone he found on the internet would assume the Ritual was fundamentally a weird sex thing, but at least a bunch of kinksters would have probably taken the rules seriously.

He sighed. “Carl, there's a bodega down on the corner. Go buy two black trash bags and make yourself a garbage-robe.” Carl frowned. “Is there time?”

Edmund checked his phone. Eleven fifty-three. “Hurry. And save the receipt.”

Another gust of wind kicked up. Edmund shivered. He'd been smart enough to request a fabric swatch ahead of time from the Etsy store where he'd custom-ordered his own set of hooded black robes. He hadn't stopped to consider how warm—or not—a single layer of said fabric would feel well into autumn, completely unshielded by the elements. Theoretically, he could've crammed a coat under the robes, like a child wearing a Halloween costume in an unseasonably cold October, but no, he hadn't wanted to look bulky.

He checked the candles again, for want of anything better to do.

“Boss,” said a hesitant voice behind him.

“What is it, Stephanie,” said Edmund.

Stephanie had clearly repurposed her teenager's old Hermione costume as her robes, but she had bothered to remove the Hogwarts branding, which was something, at least. Beyond the fact that Edmund didn't feel like giving a repellent transphobe any extra attention, there might have been copyright issues.

“Is that thing about bananas really true?”

“Yeah,” said Edmund. He had read it many years ago, in a book titled 2002 MORE WACKY FACTS TO BLOW YOUR MIND AND AMAZE YOUR FRIENDS, which didn't seem especially pertinent. He did a quick headcount. Even without Carl, they only numbered eleven. “Where's Donna?”

“You should call her,” said Stephanie. “Donna never answers her texts.”

Edmund had been halfway through tapping out a text. Ugh, Boomers. Calling was for emergencies only; everyone knew that. Unfortunately, this qualified. He gritted his teeth and dialed.

Donna answered on the fourth ring. “What?” She sounded groggy.

“Did you,” said Edmund, still through gritted teeth, “forget what night the Ritual was?”

“Oh shit,” mumbled Donna. “Are you sure? I thought it was at noon tomorrow. Carl told me twelve o'clock.”

“At night,” said Edmund. “Twelve o'clock at night, this is a dark incantation to a primordial god, it does not overlap with daytime television.”

Just then, Edmund's phone beeped with another call. “Can you hold, Donna,” he hissed.

“Hey boss,” said Carl, “the bodega only has white or green trash bags, what's my next step?”

“HOLD,” Edmund shouted, switching calls again. “Donna, can you grab an extremely dark-colored robe and be here immediately?”

“Like a bathrobe?” said Donna, sounding lost.

Of course Carl had not bothered to relay the dress code. Of course he hadn't even managed to hand her the painstakingly crafted invitation. Edmund had used the nicest card stock available to him, not that it mattered.

“Uh, boss?” Leroy called over the roar of the wind. Edmund flexed his stiffening fingers.

“One second, Donna,” said Edmund.

“How much longer is this gonna be?” said Leroy. “Because I was gonna catch the late show tonight—”

“Watch it on YouTube the next day like a normal person!” Edmund snapped. “Donna—”

“I can be there by 12:40,” said Donna through the tinny phone speaker. “There's some errands I wanna run first.”

“It's the middle of the night, what errands!” said Edmund. “Donna, hold—” He switched back to Carl. “Listen, are you sure there aren't any black trash bags?”

“White or green only,” Carl affirmed. “Some of them are scented, do you think that would make a difference?”

“Boss,” said Frank from the other side of the roof, “we lost the chalk?”

“Hold on, Carl,” said Edmund. “What?”

“It was here a second ago!” “Did you secure the chalk against the wind?”

“What?” said Frank.

“The chalk, it's cylindrical!” Edmund managed to shout. “Did you do anything so it wouldn't just roll straight off the roof?”

Somewhere above the din of wind came the sound of a half dozen pieces of sidewalk chalk landing on the street five stories below and shattering.

Edmund buried his (cold) face in his (frozen) hands.

“Uh boss,” said Stephanie. “It's 12:01.”

Edmund sighed. The primordial god K'h'gg'ragel might have allowed for some creative interpretations on Ritual-adjacent matters, but everyone knew K'h'gg'ragel was a stickler for punctuality.

“Alright,” said Edmund, pitching his voice to carry. “Pack it in, we'll try again next full moon.”

“Phew,” said Leroy, who was wearing a thick downy jacket over his robes, and a hat with earflaps, and mittens. “It's cold out.”

“I FOUND A BLUE ONE!” Carl shouted from the speaker. “IS THAT ANY BETTER?”

Edmund turned his phone off.

Lighting and strategically placing one hundred candles had been something of an undertaking. Blowing them all out alone and stuffing them back into a series of duffel bags was somehow worse. Edmund was about half-done when he heard a distinct whirring buzz. He looked up.

It was Dragonfly. Of course it was Dragonfly, heading right for him.

Great. Edmund's first-ever showdown was going to be a one-on-one against a superhero armed with a jetpack, one hell of a punch, and electrified darts. Edmund was going to get flattened, and all before he even got the chance to point out that the darts and for that matter the punching didn't fit with the overall insect theme.

“Hey man,” said Dragonfly, dropping effortlessly down to the roof of the museum. “I saw the lights from the sky, thought I'd investigate.”

They weren't fighting yet. Why weren't they fighting? Edmund's whole body fizzed with adrenaline. Also, cold. Either way, he was shaking a little, and bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“And what, strike another heroic blow against the terror that is a bunch of sweater-themed Yankee Candles?” said Edmund.

Dragonfly shrugged. His costume included a bottle-green moto jacket and gloves. It looked warm, in a way that made Edmund feel even colder. “Sweater candles? What, like burning wool?” he said.

Privately, Edmund had wondered about that too. This, he decided obscurely, was another strike against Dragonfly.

“Maybe burning wool smells phenomenal,” said Edmund instead, rocking forward. “There's no way you could possibly know, unless you're here to tell me you've lit a sheep on fire, which seems well outside your whole—” he waved his hands vaguely “—moral compass.”

“Word travels fast,” said Dragonfly gravely. “I am foursquare against sheep-burning. Always have been.”

Edmund squared his shoulders. “So, are we doing this, or what?”

From behind his signature oversized goggles, Dragonfly's brow seemed to furrow slightly. “Doing what?”

“Fighting,” said Edmund. He had to grind his teeth together to keep them from chattering.

“Ah,” said Dragonfly after a pause. “Oh. Um. Okay. Here's the thing?” He steepled his fingers. “You seem unarmed. You're not hurting anyone. You're also not committing any crimes.” Edmund opened his mouth to protest, and Dragonfly continued, “Or, okay, you're trespassing on the museum, I guess, technically, but it's not like you're even trying to sneak into an exhibit without paying.”

“I am here,” said Edmund firmly, “to perform a terrible and arcane Ritual which will summon—”

“Yeah?” said Dragonfly. “Where's your followers? Where's your summoning chalk? It's well past midnight and the only sign of any occult activity I can see is the candles, but for all I know, you were just up here trying to have a little me-time, which, like, on some level I get, you know?”

“So,” said Edmund blankly, “what now?” He had given up on trying to tense his jaw. His upper and lower teeth clacked rhythmically against each other.

“I give you a stern verbal warning about what's probably a minor fire hazard and recommend that you enjoy the museum from the inside, during business hours, with a ticket,” said Dragonfly. “I hear they have a great exhibit on prehistoric mammals. In the meantime, get somewhere warm, okay? Your lips are turning blue.” “Fuck off,” Edmund more or less managed to say through his shivers.

Dragonfly spread his hands, placating. “Fair enough.” He began to walk away. At the edge of the roof, he hesitated. “Uh, do you have a way down?”

“Obviously,” said Edmund.

“Yeah,” said Dragonfly. “Uh, okay.” They regarded each other. “What is it?” said Dragonfly after a few seconds.

Edmund froze. Or well, he was already half-frozen. Edmund stopped moving, was the point.

Apparently interpreting Edmund's silence as helplessness, Dragonfly offered dubiously, “I could carry you down?”

“How,” said Edmund, flat. It was the wrong thing to say, in that it wasn't 'No,' or 'Fuck off' again, something sensible like that, but damn it, he was freezing, and if he gave up the way he'd gotten everyone onto the roof, then this whole fucking evening was going to be a wash. He had tried so hard. It wasn't fair.

Dragonfly took a step closer. “Fireman or bridal?”

Edmund tried and failed to parse this three separate times in his cold-fuzzed brain. “Is that a meme?” he settled on finally.

“Do you,” said Dragonfly, “have a preference on how I carry you.”

“We haven't even established that you're going to,” Edmund said. Clackity clackity clack went his traitorous teeth.

Dragonfly sighed. “I can't leave you up here,” he said. “One, if I let you keep hanging out on the roof of the history museum, then technically I'm kinda aiding and abetting your whole trespassing situation. Two, it is really fucking chilly up here, and if you freeze to death, then that's on me. Which is also not, like, great for my conscience.”

“So I don't have a choice,” Edmund spat.

“You totally have a choice,” said Dragonfly. He tilted his head to the side. “Hell, you could do me a solid and just exit using whatever secret method you entered with, but I have a feeling mum's the word on that particular angle.”

This Dragonfly character was smarter than he looked. Of course, he was a grown man who fought crime dressed as a giant insect. The bar was not particularly high.

“Mum's the word?” Edmund echoed. “What are you, ninety?”

“I'm an old fucking soul, dude,” said Dragonfly. “Point being, you don't trust me not to watch you leave the roof. Which is hurtful, frankly. I'm not sure I trust you not to stay up here out of pure stubbornness. If I give you a quick boost down, then it's problem solved and we can both go about our nights. Crime-fighting for me, and for you hopefully a pile of blankets and whatever warm food rich people eat. Mashed potatoes? With...caviar?”

This clearly did not merit a response. Dragonfly knew who Edmund was, apparently. Most people did.

“What if you drop me?” said Edmund.

Dragonfly laughed. He had a nice laugh. It was yet another point against him, somehow. “Don't you think that might go against my whole—” he gestured with both hands “moral compass?”

Edmund recognized his own words being used against him. On the other hand, the thought of a hot meal and, moreover, central heating beckoned.

“I don't care,” Edmund said at last.

“What?” said Dragonfly.

“Bridal or fireman's carry,” said Edmund. “I don't care.”

Dragonfly nodded sagely. “Let's get this over with, then,” he said. “Hey, d’you want help with your candles?”

Did he? He didn't want to want help with his candles, but that was another question. On the other hand, if Edmund accepted Dragonfly's aid, it would shave off valuable minutes of this excruciating headache. The backs of Edmund's knees were cold. It was absurd.

“Fine,” said Edmund.

“Huh,” said Dragonfly several minutes later. “This one's rain-scented, and this one's Ocean Spray, and yet they smell nothing alike.”

Dragonfly had without fail commented on every single scented candle in the bunch. Edmund looked up from his umpteenth taper candle, momentarily distracted from the knifelike chill.

“Rain and ocean are two completely different things,” said Edmund. “The surrounding environment, the vibe, the salt content.”

“The vibe, I grant you,” said Dragonfly. “But salt, really? Have you ever smelled salt before?”

“The ocean has a smell,” Edmund insisted. His family had summered on the coast every year before—well. Before last year. He mostly remembered the sea as having a whiff of fish about it, which didn't sound promising for a candle, but it was the principle of the thing.

Dragonfly shrugged. “You've got me there,” he said. “Never been.” Cityton was only about an hour's drive from the beach. Edmund wasn't sure he knew anyone who had never visited at least once, for a long weekend at least. Of course, it wasn't like Edmund knew Dragonfly. He didn't even know what Dragonfly's eyes looked like.

Edmund blew out another few tapers.

“This one's just called Singing Carols,” Dragonfly announced. “Guess what it smells like, I dare you.”

And so on.

In the end, Dragonfly carried Edmund off the roof of the Natural History Museum scooped under the armpits, the way you might hold a cat if you were engaging in some light cat-related horseplay. The mechanical dragonfly wings were well-made, Edmund could admit that much; Dragonfly didn't seem to have any issue bearing Edmund's weight or the combined weight of the candles, and their feet gently touched the ground after only a few seconds. It was already slightly warmer—or at least slightly less freezing—on street-level.

Dragonfly let go and stepped back immediately. This close, Edmund could see that his lips were pretty badly chapped. It made sense that someone who donated all their time to—again—flitting around town trying to right every minuscule so-called wrong while dressed like a bug wouldn't be experienced enough with self-care to be acquainted with a good lip balm, but the thought made Edmund weirdly a little sad.

His sense of deeply ingrained politeness warred against the equally powerful urge to be a real bastard about the whole thing. In the end, politeness won out, by the very skin of its mannerly little teeth.

“Thank you for not dropping me to my almost certain death,” Edmund gritted out with extreme reluctance. He stared over Dragonfly's shoulder as he said it.

Nevertheless, for some awful reason, for just that moment, it felt a little like the end of a date.

“Right,” said Dragonfly. “Right. Well then. Happy trails.” He seemed to consider this. “Or you know, if doing crimes is what makes you happy, then for the sake of Cityton, let's say, mediocre trails. Do you wanna borrow my gloves?”

“Why,” said Edmund flatly.

Even though the goggles completely obscured much of the upper half of Dragonfly's face, Edmund had the distinct sense that a disbelieving stare was being leveled at him.

“For your hands? You know, the traditional office of gloves?”

As the scion of Malarkey Industries, Edmund was long accustomed to being hated for who he was. Hated, feared, not-too-secretly envied. And lately: mocked, dismissed, his family name transmuted into a juicy, low-hanging punchline for lazy late night writers.

He wasn't sure he'd ever been pitied before. It did not sit well.

“I'll warm my hands on the fires of hell while I plot your demise, you miserable fool,” growled Edmund.

“Yikes,” said Dragonfly easily. “Well, I'm off.” And with that, he took to the sky.

Edmund curled his fingers into the sleeves of his stupid, summer-weight summoner's robes and started back towards what remained of his home.

#original fiction #cityton chronicles #I'm sure that in some obscure way the fact that I'm thinking about this now is due to mainlining The Untamed #but this is definitely. not that.#warning for an extremely brief mention of transphobia that the main character condemns #also apparently there is a dragonfly-themed superhero in a 2008 superhero spoof movie?#let's say that movie exists in this world too and Dragonfly has taken a lot of shit for it #that sounds about right

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isthisthingeven0n · 3 years

Text

not a grinch : s.r

when spencer finds out you don’t like christmas he’s determined to make you fall in love with the holiday, no matter what it takes. (2.3k)

criminal minds masterlist

(please do not steal my ideas/work or repost elsewhere without permission. thank you!)

( sorry but shameless plug but i have an etsy shop )

Walking through the glass doors of the BAU your eyes were greeted by something unexpected for a Thursday morning; Doctor Spencer Reid wearing a Santa hat and gold tinsel around his neck like a scarf.

Spencer was leaning across his desk beside yours as he explained something to JJ and Emily, both looking slightly regretful to have gotten themselves into the conversation in the first place. Yet Spencer’s smile was bright, his hands moving around as his eyes glistened, but it could easily be the tinsel bouncing from the lights.

“-and even though the celebration dates back to 336 in Rome, it didn’t become a major Christian festival until the 9th century!” Spencer beams to the two agents whilst you place your bag and coffee on your desk.

Emily internally sighs as she turns to face you. “All I did was ask if he had purchased a Christmas tree yet.” She holds her hands up in disbelief as you shake your head.

“Speaking of which, have you?” JJ directs her question to you as you pause, lifting the mug of warm coffee to your lips.

To their surprise, you shake your head. “I don’t really celebrate Christmas.” You admit, sipping your drink thinking nothing of it until Spencer’s eyes widen in shock.

Spencer thought he knew you pretty well in the two years he’s known you. He considers you to be a close friend, part of the BAU family. Yet, this is the first time he’s ever heard such a thing. Last year you joined in with festivities, but as Spencer sits down on his chair beside yours he casts his mind back to the previous year.

“God, don’t let Penelope hear you say that.” Emily jokes and you naturally glance around, checking whether the enthused blonde was in sight.

“You got everyone a gift last year,” Spencer speaks up, catching you off guard as you open the file on your desk, JJ raising an eyebrow to you. “every gift was in brown paper with a red ribboned bow. You came to Rossi’s when we sang songs, but,” Remembering the details crisply, Spencer can picture you backing away to the bathroom when everyone started to sing carols. How you returned once it was over and had a glass of mulled wine before heading home.

“I don’t mind some elements of Christmas, don’t get me wrong.” You say softly with a smile. “But in general it’s not something I celebrate or spend time on.”

Watching you shrug your shoulders, you carry on with work whilst Spencer remains in a state of shock over this fact. What could possibly make you not celebrate Christmas?

“Who converted you?” Spencer questions, deeply curious at this point.

Forcing back a sigh, you glance over to the Doctor as his hand rests under his chin. “No one, Spencer.” You laugh lightly. “You know I’m an atheist.”

“Yes, but Christmas is a Christian holiday, and did you know-”

“Come on, Spence,” JJ interrupts, and you silently thank her for doing so. “if Y/n isn’t a fan of Christmas so be it, just give her a chance to actually work through her case files.” JJ smiles to you whilst Spencer nods, spinning on his chair to face his desk once more, but the question never truly leaves his mind.

A week has passed since you were questioned about your disdain for Christmas, but that doesn’t mean it’s left Spencer’s thoughts.

Sitting in the Batcave beside Penelope, Spencer explains exactly what you had said to him.

“And here I thought Y/n was a normal person.” Penelope scoffs playfully, carrying on with her work whilst Spencer sighs. “What do you want me to do? Hack into her phone and have it play Christmas songs in the morning when her alarm goes off?” Penelope suggests, and before Spencer can interrupt, she jumps excitedly in her seat. “Oh! How about I send carol singers to her door, or Morgan with mistletoe, god knows I want that at my doorstep.” Penelope clears her throat as Spencer shakes his head, trying to remove the image from his thoughts.

“I was thinking of getting her a tree?” Spencer suggests, and Penelope nods.

“Yeah, that’s a much better more realistic idea.” Penelope mutters, quickly searching online and finds several suitable options.

Scanning over the choices, Spencer hums to himself. “That one,” A small smile forms on his lips as Penelope proceeds to order the tree.

“Done and done!” She happily states, spinning on her chair to face Spencer. “I’m sure she’ll love it, I mean how could she not when it’s from you?” Penelope teases, noting the blush forming on Spencer’s cheeks as he thanks his friend before leaving the Batcave.

Returning to his desk, Spencer overhears you and JJ talking quietly at her desk. “I promise I’m not a grinch, J.” You laugh lightly, something Spencer wishes he could hear more of if he had the chance. “It’s just not my favourite holiday, but I love it for the kids. Speaking of which, what can I get Henry this year?”

“Oh, you don’t have to get him anything, Y/n.” JJ reassures you, but you shake your head, insisting. “Let me check with Will, he’s got his list for Santa ready and waiting.” JJ chuckles, patting your arm as you make your way back to your desk.

“Did you know that J.R.R Tolkein used to leave his children detailed illustrations and letters from Santa Claus? Originally, children didn’t send letters to Santa, instead, Santa sent letters to children all around the world. Though Santa Claus isn’t a real person, the letters parents forged were enough to keep the excitement going.” Spencer states as you sit back down at your desk.

“Wait, Santa isn’t real?” You gasp, a playful smile crossing your lips as Spencer pauses, still finding himself awestruck sometimes by your quick wit. “But that is fascinating, Reid. I might have to think about doing that myself someday, scare kids witless into being well behaved.”

Swaying in your chair, Spencer can’t help but picture it. You, with children at Christmas. Part of him wishes he could be in that picture, but all he envisions is himself being a distant Uncle, one of the many your children could have in the BAU.

“Would you, would you like to join me Christmas shopping after work?” You ask, and Spencer stops writing mid-sentence as he looks over to you as you bite your lower lip. “If you don’t I get it! A lot of people all shopping, it’s a breeding ground for germs.” You ramble, looking away from Spencer. “But Henry is your Godson, and I was hoping you might know what I could get him?” Your voice becomes quieter as you finish your question, and you cross one leg over the other and shuffle forward.

“No, I’d love to,” Spencer speaks up, trying not to stumble over his words as you nod happily. “I, I’ve got an idea or two of what you could get.” Spencer adds and your smile only widens like Spencer’s heart.

“Perfect, thanks, Spence.” Your smile is contagious as you hold your hand out, motioning for Spencer’s mug as you head towards the kitchen.

Once out of sight, JJ peers over. “That sounds hopeful.” She chimes in, snapping Spencer from his daydream.

“What?” Spencer asks, but JJ glances over towards the kitchen before returning her focus to Spencer. “It’s nothing JJ, Y/n just needs some help Christmas shopping.” Spencer tries to shrug it off, knowing he’s just helping out as a friend, doing you a favour.

“Sure, Spence.” JJ sings lightly before returning to work, just as you reappear with a mug of coffee for Spencer as you hum a tune before returning to work mode.

Walking out from the toy store, you wrap your coat back around your body tightly whilst Spencer holds the bag of gifts. “Spencer, I can carry it,” You giggle, but Spencer continues to insist.

“Nope, you drove here so I’m carrying the bags.” He states, smiling proudly as you carry on down the street passing various shop windows brightly lit as Christmas music blares from each entrance.

“Crazy to think how many songs there are about Christmas, huh?” You interrupt the silence looming over you both as you near the market stalls filled with everything ranging from trinkets to edible tools.

“Well, despite Christmas dating back to the 9th Century, Christmas songs have only been around for the past two hundred years with over a million songs within the genre. Did you know that two thousand one hundred and ninety-six are Bing Crosby classics?” Spencer glances down as you shake your head as you both walk through the market stalls.

“Fancy some mistletoe loves? For the happy couple?” A man holds out a stalk of mistletoe in your direction.

Neither of you speaks up as you keep your head down, trying to ignore the man’s words as you near the parking lot in silence.

The drive to your apartment was uncomfortable. Everything had been going well by Spencer’s account until the Christmas market, he should’ve said something to the vendor, or taken the mistletoe just to be polite.

“Well, thanks again, Spencer.” You rock back and forth on your heels as you walk up to your apartment, Spencer insisted on walking you up as he lived down the street.

“Pleasures all mine, here, I’ll bring these in.” Spencer motions to the three bags of gifts in his arms as you unlock the front door and stop in your tracks.

Sitting on your coffee table is a small Christmas tree, adorned with fairy lights in a woven pot with a red ribbon around it tied in a bow.

Spencer hovers in your doorway, unable to gauge a reaction whilst he remains behind you.

“What is that doing here?” You ask bluntly, your shoulders dropping as you exhale deeply.

Walking into your apartment, you turn around to look at Spencer. Your hands rest on your hips whilst Spencer places the bags down, rubbing his hands over his jacket.

“I, Penelope and I thought it would be a nice touch.” Spencer meekly responds.

“Well, you both thought wrong, okay?” You snap back. “I told you, Spencer, I don’t like Christmas! Why is it such a big deal?!” You raise your voice as you pace around your apartment, throwing your coat aside as you run your fingers through your hair.

Stepping forward, Spencer closes your front door. “I just don’t understand, Y/n.” Spencer states. “I just thought you might’ve been brought up without the concept of Christmas, but I know that isn’t the case, so what tainted the holiday?”

Raising your head up, Spencer can see tears glossing in your eyes. “You really wanna know Reid?” You quietly ask. “My parents always argued at Christmas. We never had a Christmas dinner as they just yelled throughout the house as the turkey burnt in the oven. Presents weren’t ever wrapped as they blamed one another for not doing them. Sometimes they didn’t even get us presents.” You explain as you slump down on your sofa.

“Y/n, I had no idea,” Spencer trails off.

“I didn’t mind, but when they separated Christmas just never happened, we didn’t celebrate it.” You sniff. “So I grew up without it, and even now my parents don’t send cards or even get in touch on Christmas Day. We all just act as if it isn’t happening.”

You forcefully wipe away the tears that roll down your cheeks, unaware of Spencer moving and sitting down beside you.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n,” Spencer whispers as he keeps a gap between you both, not wanting to invade your space. “and I’m sorry for trying to push Christmas onto you if I knew I’d never have done this or told you all those stupid facts.”

“I like the stupid facts, Spence.” A watery laugh leaves your lips as you glance up to Spencer, shuffling closer toward him as you scan his eyes for any uncertainty. “And I like the tree it’s just,” Exhaling quietly, you close your eyes. “no one has ever done anything nice like this for me, especially at Christmas.”

Lifting his arm up, Spencer pulls you into his embrace as you rest your head on his chest. “If you’ll let me, I’d love to show you Christmas can be a wonderful time of year.” He mutters.

“You’d do that?” You ask quietly, tilting your head to look up at his bright smile, watching as he nods.

“Consider me Santa’s little helper, bringing Christmas cheer.” Spencer jokes as you laugh, your tears now drying up as you sit upright.

“I’ve got something for you.” You state, reaching into your pocket as Spencer raises a brow quizzingly. He didn’t see you buy anything from the shops small enough to fit into your pocket.

Revealing a stalk of mistletoe, Spencer’s lips part in surprise. “You thief.” Spencer smirks as you shrug your shoulder.

“I’m no thief, Penelope snuck it into my bag before we left.” You explain as you hold it up above you both. “Got any facts about mistletoe, Doctor?”

“Too many, but there’s something I’d rather do.” Spencer mutters, lifting his hand up to rest on your cheek. “Is this okay?” He whispers as you move closer toward him, his breath fanning your lips.

“More than okay.” You respond, dropping the mistletoe as you wrap your arms around his neck as he kisses you sweetly. “Can we watch a movie?” You mutter into his lips as you pull away.

“Of course,” Spencer smiles, kissing your cheek as you curl up into his arms. “what about How The Grinch Stole Christmas?”

Looking down, Spencer can see you rolling your eyes. “Fine, just to prove that I’m the Grinch no more.” You return to resting your head on Spencer’s chest, admiring the small tree as the movie begins to play.

Part of you hopes that this might be the start of new traditions and learning to love Christmas with Spencer by your side. “Merry Christmas, Y/n.” Spencer mutters as he kisses the top of your forehead as your eyes begin to droop, just as the credits begin to play.

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