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nagitoandkokichioneshots · 3 years

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Presents the DRV3 cast would get their SO

Mod Mikan: Consider this a little ‘apology present’ for the lack of updates from me. Enjoy ;)

Warning: Subtle NSFW mention for Miu’s part (It’s Miu, what did you expect?)

Boys

Shuichi: The Ultimate Detective is a pure boi. He’s a bit nervous getting you gifts, but still wants to show you just how much he loves you as much as he says it. I believe he would at first, get you cliché presents, such as flower bouquets and chocolates. Overtime, when he gains more confidence, he would gift you books or novels you had your eye on, your favorite movie DVD’s, or if he was lucky, a necklace for you

Rantaro: Prepared to be S P O I L E D rotten! This dude would literally get your enough flowers to start your own florist shop! He would also be very cliché with his gifts, but add his own twist to keep them from getting lame. Would get you a gift basket with your favorite candies, your favorite stuffed animals with little T-shirts/placks that say “I love you”, jewelry, makeup, nail polish, heck, maybe even surprise you with a vacation for the two of you!

Ryoma: Wouldn’t gift you anything ‘uncool’ or ‘lame’ so he wouldn’t go with clichés. He wouldn’t go overboard with his gifts, but rather, get you little trinket that reminded you if him. Would probably get you a tennis racket keychain, a tennis charm bangle, or a necklace with an “R” on it

Kaito: Would literally get you A N Y T H I N G with a galaxy print on it. Galaxy printed mugs, socks, phone cases, nail polish, jewelry, you name it! He would also get you charm bracelets and necklaces with star/moon/planet charms or even buy you your own galaxy star projector night light

K1-BO: Would first refrain from getting your gifts. It’s not like he doesn’t want to, he loves you so much! It’s just that he’s still learning the basics of a romantic relationship. I feel like he would search up the best presents to gift your significant other when the relationship starts to get more serious. So expect a lot of cliché gifts like flowers, chocolates, teddy bears, necklaces, etc. Would most likely also be a fan of buying decorative picture frames and putting pictures of you guys on them ;)

Kokichi: SIMP MODE ACTIVATED! Damn, you thought Rantaro was gonna spoil you?! Kokichi is a whole other level! In the beginning of the relationship, he wouldn’t really spoil you, just get you little trinkets or stuff that reminded him of you--like keychains or small stuffed animals. Heck! Maybe even get you small gag gifts/pranking stuff. But with time, his simping skills start to show. You’re his co-ruler, the supreme leader’s lover--it’s only natural that you’re treated like royalty. Would probably have DICE to steal--I MEAN--buy you expensive jewelry, purses/wallets, perfumes, airpods, candy gift baskets, even a matching cape/hat for you! (If you are a girl, he’d get you a tiara)

Korekiyo: Would quite literally go to the ends of the earth to gift you the most beautiful pieces of humanity. Most definitely you gift you rare fossils and beautiful artistic remnants of ancient tribes/societies. Would also spoil you with gems, ancient jewelry pieces, foreign alcoholic drinks, and hand crafted vases holding different types of flowers

Gonta: Umm......I’m gonna skip over the first few times he got you presents (long story short: He wanted you to have your own ‘bug friends’). He held off on giving you gifts after those....incidents. When your relationship starts to get deeper and Gonta finally gains more confidence (and romantic knowledge), he would start to gift you bumble bee plushies, bracelets and earrings with dragonfly charms, pinned butterflies in frames (even though they are creepy as hell), and flowers he found when he was searching for bugs

Girls

Kaede: This precious soul will get you A N Y T H I N G music related! She always wants to share her passion with you and get you anything that would remind you of how much she loves you! Would get you earrings, bracelets and necklaces with music notes on them, glass piano figurines, and decorative piano themed wine glasses. She would also love to play you a piece dedicated to you as a little ‘gift experience’ instead. If you loved it that much, she would record herself playing it and ask Miu to burn it into a chip and place it inside a music box she was going to gift you ;)

Tenko: Ah, another hopeless romantic! Tenko wouldn’t really spoil you like Rantaro and Kokichi, but would definitely gift you a lot of stuff that would remind you of her! Be prepared to be gifted with Aikido charm bracelets, stuffed animals with Aikido uniforms, and your own punching bags/practice dummies. Wouldn’t get you candies since she wants you to be in top form when you train with her

Angie: Do I.....Do I even need to say it?! Angie would handcraft and make you anything you want from scratch! Whether it would be a sculpture of you two together, a painting of you guys sitting on a park bench, a charm bracelet/necklace with your name on it, or even a figurine of one of her visions of Atua, she wouldn’t buy A N Y T H I N G for you. Not only does it take away the thought of the gift, but it’s really a ‘pride’ thing as well. Angie wants to show off her artistic skills and believe that her work is good enough for you. She would also make you decorative vases, plates, and cups

Kirumi: I can honestly see her gifting you aroma therapy candles, weighted blankets, and different tea boxes. She gives off very calming and soothing vibes, so no doubt she would want you to feel relaxed and serene whenever she can. Would also get you adult coloring books, decorative pencil holders, flowers/small botanic plants, and bath stuff. A lot of therapeutic gifts

Himiko: Don’t expect to be spoiled so much. She’s usually too tired and sleepy to give you gifts. If she as in a relatively good mood and more energetic that day, she would get you little magic themed presents--cause magic is real. Would get you a deck of cards, your own magic set kit, or even a Harry Potter wand (maybe even a chocolate wand set ;)). Though, when she knows the relationship is serious and deep, she would certainly get you a matching hat

Maki: Don’t hold your breath. Maki isn’t really big on gift giving, even if the relationship gets deep and serious. Of course she loves you, but she sees no point in getting you a gift and spoiling you with material objects. She thinks it would lose meaning if she kept doing it. Really, she would only get you presents on special occasions, like your birthday or anniversaries. Would most likely keep it subtle and humble, like a pendant necklace or a box of your favorite sweets

Miu: The woman would spoil dump a BUNCH of inventions that she thinks will make your life easier. Like Angie, she doesn’t really buy anything since she thinks she can make something even better than what a crappy store sells. Her gifts are....well....kinda nonsensical and you really don’t know how they work or what they do. Some of them even have no purpose other than...to vibrate ;). Most of them are just shaped like....you know what. It’s Miu, guys! But you know she means no harm and she’s really trying her best when it comes to getting you presents. Just say you love it, it’ll make her so happy

Tsumugi: Let’s be honest: The woman would make you a whole entire new wardrobe! She doesn’t love to wear cosplay, rather make cosplay for other people to wear. LOVES to make you clothing that your favorite fictional characters wear, while also just designing clothing that you expressed interest in! Been eyeing that new Gucci dress for a while now, but it’s too expensive? Tsumugi is already sewing it all together! Just give her a few days. She would also love to make plushies wearing cute mini outfits for you

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prince-honeypaw · 3 years

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....regressor aizawa? he deserves some good napsies. and stuffies.

♡ Of course, honeybee. Poor dear has a lot to deal with, after all!

♡ Aizawa's little age is largely unknown, being mostly a smear of baby to toddler.

♡ He doesn't regress often because of his work and pride, but after the USJ attack? It started to become involuntary.

♡ With the trauma and chronic pain, he couldn't beat back the gentle fuzz at the corners of his mind, or the temptation to give in.

♡ So, he confided in Nezu, hoping that he'd have some kind of insightful advice on his predicament.

♡ He ended up dropping as soon as he was in the principal's office and became obsessed with trying to figure him out.

♡ This cat's got hands what's with that

♡ Nezu warded off his grabby hands with a pen and some papers, thankfully. Little Shouta's sense of personal space is rather lacking.

♡ Nezu told him many things that day, but it was in one ear and out the other for the baby. NEZU: And that's how to create a successful and legally binding pyramid scheme! Any questions? SHOUTA: O_O SHOUTA: U_U SHOUTA: O_O NEZU: Splendid!

♡ After this incident, he's sent to talk to Hound Dog about his experiences. There he learns that he has been unwittingly using a coping mechanism to deal with his trauma, and that it can be healthy for him. Aizawa isn't keen on it at first, but he's willing to do anything in order to gain some control over this.

♡ Tries to regress voluntarily, but things don't always go the way he wants.

♡ 1A doesn't officially know that he's a regressor, but they have an inkling.

♡ They try to avoid getting into trouble or taking too much of their teacher's attention when he's having an off day. Aizawa finds it annoying... Maybe a bit endearing too.

♡ They do give him gifts related to his regression in a roundabout way. The roundabout is Nemuri.

♡ His students are so aggravating and he adores each one in his own way.

♡ When asked how old he is in his headspace he just scrunches his nose up in disgust.

♡ Mind yer business, he's got colorful shapes to tend to.

♡ Completely nonverbal as soon as he regresses. He knows JSL when he's big, but doesn't use it when he's little because he's far too small to know how to use it!

♡ Resorts to pointing, nodding or shaking his head, and drawing crayon doodles as communication.

♡ Trades out his sleeping bag for kigurumis and onesies- All cat themed, of course.

♡ Has a Hello Kitty weighted blanket to help with his chronic pain and insomnia.

♡ Loves Hello Kitty, Chococat, Tigger, the Cheshire Cat, and Meowth!

♡ Has a stuffed Cheshire Cat that is like an extension of himself when he's small.

♡ Holds a soft spot for pigeons because they just look like that. Top Ten Animals that are SO Shaped.

♡ Gets the best sleep when he's regressed.

♡ He can, will, and has watched a fish tank for a solid hour.

♡ Mmmm fishy.....

♡ Heavily prefers soft toys, but there are some exceptions to the rule. Usually puzzle toys or Calico Critters.

♡ Gets so huffy when he's cranky! All sighs and snuffles, he's so grumpy.

♡ Really likes baths! They soothe his aches and make him feel tiny...

♡ Hides food he doesn't want to eat. If he can't see it, he can't eat it.

♡ Big sis Nemuri doesn't agree with his infallible logic and says he still has to eat his carrots.

♡ He does so begrudgingly.

♡ Altogether, he's just a little guy!!!

#Hmmmm kitty :)#sfw agere #bnha agere #Agere Aizawa #Honey HCs

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bread-elf · 2 years

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Potential triggers are in this short story, read at your own discretion. It wasn't until far in the dead of night that Jiroki returned to her home. The weekend felt long as is, working at a Pride themed festival with the burlesque troupe she is a part of. On her arm she carried a bag filled with gifts a friend purchased for her, a silly group photo stuffed inside as well, and in hand she carried her shoes. But the way Jiroki carried herself expressed grief and despair, rather than returning from a joyous occasion. She took her poor feet through the long route of returning to her home in the Jade Forest, dirt covered and in pain, but it was a pain she could barely notice compared to the ones in her head and chest. She had wept her entire track home, avoiding any and all contact of bystanders who could only watch as she scurries off. By the time she reaches her doorstep she had spent so much of her energy as is, exhausted beyond relief, but the pain continued to ebb and flow, continuously setting off a wave of fresh tears that now began to make her head throb.

It must have been nap time for the Glaivefall children, because the estate and house sounded quiet. Her bag and shoes slip and clatter to the ground, a few precious trinkets giving off alarming sounds of cracking and fractures. She barely has time to register a figure in the living room, sprawled out on the couch. Her eldest daughter, Merli, took her own nap on the couch, dressed in one of her puffy and frilly nightgowns. Her siblings were growing to be nocturnal like most of their kind, and Merli took it in stride. But she was not an exception to the exhaustion of alternating to diurnal and nocturnal schedules. The half-elf stirs as her adoptive mother runs off to her own room, but Jiroki is shown mercy as she doesn't wake, still sleeping soundly as even the door closes. Legs weak, Jiroki trembles and nearly sinks to the floor as newfound grief washes over her, doing her best not to cry out in anguish. Jiroki is stricken with heartbreak. She saw it coming, braced for it the past coming weeks as the accuser avoided her. But she confronted him just mere hours ago, and no conclusion came to fruition. That deep rage that's haunted her all her life begins to surface once more, seeping into her arms, her legs, her head, gaining control and fueling her with the strength she needs to stand. Now trembling due to her fury, her breathing is labored and ragged as she lunges towards her wardrobe. Its doors fling open and expose unsuspecting gowns, which she digs through to find specific garments given to her as gifts. They're torn from their place, hangars straining and ricocheting from the force, some falling. Those that do fall along with the dresses she tosses, beginning the processes of scouring away memories of him while she's in a fit of rage. More pressing memories surface in the heat of it, turning her attention away from the wardrobe. Her nightstand, which has a drawer. That is flung open as well, small rocks infused with shadow magic inside rolling around, meant to send messages upon use. She grabs them by the handful, going to her window to fling that open as well. With all her strength, the hard to acquire rocks are flung out carelessly, wanting nothing to do with them. It wasn't enough. Grief threatens to take over the rage, making her buckle at the window as she sobs miserably. Too much love had filled her heart for this man she had come to know, more than she dared to admit to even herself. But to be the last to know of an engagement planned prior to their meeting, not even told directly but to find out by sheer chance by outside forces. It wasn't even the engagement itself that bothered her; to be claimed to be very important in someone's life, yet cast aside with little thought, and then avoided out of fear. It isn't something Jiroki is foreign to, but fresh wounds hurt more than healing ones. Tired of being on the side lines she had confronted him, seeing him working, mingling with others. He had approached her too at some point, in a public setting, and she had no doubt that he would have prolonged the issue. Harsh words were exchanged, confessions and accusations. And even still, he stated he needed space after all this, even while he had gone without for some time as is. That isn't love. Not by her definition. She left him there, but not without giving him an ultimatum for him to seek her out if he wanted to fix things. But it felt like the end. Even if gone for a time, the rage always resurfaces. This time gripping at her heart, gripping so tightly she couldn't even breath. Whirling around, the most precious gift sat upon a dresser, a necklace twinkling with a hint of magic. It felt like she was watching her own actions as an outsider, rushing over and gripping it in hand, and its hurled across the room. The hard thud it makes on impact is enough to sent a spike of fear down her spine, feelings fighting within herself, but she's lost in a whirlwind of hurricane of emotions. Something else targets her eye. A crystal glowing brightly, on its own little stand on the dresser as well. Gifted to her by her

mate, Aztook, as a memento for his absence. It glowed with colors associated with him, a bright green color reminiscent of the sickly green fel that was infused in his body. A color almost considered taboo with its associated to the Legion, to demons. And she hated it. Hated it so much, with every fiber of her being. She is only alone because he is gone. It finds its way into her hand, and that is thrown across the room as well, to join with the necklace and all its memories. The thud of the crystal is much louder, even ringing out and denting the wall, at the very least something fracturing. The grief continues its ebb and flow like the sea, her sorrows growing as other circumstances in her life join this one. Alone, reserved, stubborn, there is no outlet for the pain she suffers in silence. Except for one. A trembling hand starts digging through the drawers on her dresser, trying to remember in her grief stricken haze where she put it. She finds the tiny pouch she seeks, shaking fingers trying to undo the drawstrings. Her stash is small as is, desperately needing to replenish it, even though she had fears of relapsing. But it had already begun, and she finally embraces it as the opioids in the form of pills trickle onto her palm. But her inner demons are making her hands shake too much, and most of them clatter to the floor. "Mother-" Instead of finishing her cuss word a fist balls and slams against the dresser hard, uncaring of the pain and the sound it makes. They scatter, and she's crawling on the floor as she tries to pick them up, each precious piece a lifeline for her, and she's already so limited. At least having two in hand, they are shoved into her mouth as she takes them, not wanting to wait for water to help ease them down. "Min'da?" A surge of fear freezes her in place, the grief and rage both silenced in an instant. Her head whips around, and out of all the children to walk in on her, is her eldest son. The one most like a spitting image of her, his own sea green hair long enough to be pulled back into a small ponytail. The five year old stands at the partially opened doorway, amber eyes confused and innocent as he stares at his mother sprawled on the floor in a mess, scrambling for pills. Seconds tick on in silence, and Jiroki barely manages to pull herself together. "V-Vaeren-" Her voice sounds hoarse, sore from the crying. "Go- Go back to bed, you should be asleep!" "I- I heard crashing-" He must have heard things being thrown, being stirred awake. Merely concerned for his mother's wellbeing, but for the first time fear shows in his eyes as Jiroki comes up and grabs him by the arm. "I said, you should be in bed!" Her grip tight as she drags him down the hallway, the boy catching up but wincing in pain, trying to pry out of his mother's grip. The bedroom door he shares with his twin sister is partially opened, the other one still asleep. Confused, scared, bewildered, Vaeren is suddenly forced into his room with the door shut, for the first time blocked out by his mother as she does for so many other people. The cries of the poor child begin in an instant. Loud and wailing, enough to wake anyone perhaps. Hiding herself away from the world Jiroki rushes back into her room, shutting the door and slipping down to the ground. "Hey, hey! My little butter biscuit, what's wrong?!" Merli's tired voice squeaks in alarm down the hallway, going into the twin's room. For the first time in a long, long time, Jiroki feels shame. Not pity for herself, not downtrodden in her own bad luck, detestable shame. Her hands grip her scalp, back against the door as she trembles and weeps. "Min'da, are you home?" Merli is now knocking at her own door, growing more conscious by the second. Jiroki covers her scarred ears, putting her head between her knees as she tries to cope with breathing, starting to feel nauseous. Trying to drown out the noise, the knocking, the crying. Trying to block everything out, as she should have kept to doing instead of trying to open up to hope.

#stories

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geminiamethyst · 2 years

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Childhood Friends. Chapter 2: The Years Went By…

Chapter 1: click HERE

Chapter 3: click HERE

“Kaito Momota!"

Kaito jumped right out of his skin when a hard back book was suddenly slammed on his desk. He was given such a harsh shock that he fell backwards in his chair. The class laughed as he crashed to the floor. He sat up slowly so then he could have a better look at how woke him up so abruptly from his daydreaming.

"Now that you're back from outer space, I trust that you have been keeping up with this lesson." The teacher sternly said. Before Kaito could try to make up an excuse, she picked up a star themed notebook on his desk. She had an immediate look of disapproval as she looked over his space related doodling. "Apparently not. I hope that you hand in your essay on chapters 10 to 14 by next week, Momota. That should keep you tied down to Earth, Mr Ultimate Astronaut." Kaito was about to shout out a protest but the bell at Hope's Peak Academy rang out loud and clear. Without waiting for a second, the students started to leave the classroom, the scraping of chairs and chattering filling the air. The teacher gave Kaito a smirk before returning to her desk to get ready for her next lesson. Kaito sighed heavily as he readjusted his jacket to be hanging on his right shoulder again (it slipped off his shoulder after he fell). As he did this a pale skinned boy with dark blue hair and small ahoge approached him. He wore a black uniform jacket and matching trousers that both had pinstripes. On one of the breast pockets of his jacket was the logo of the previous school that he had went to before being scouted by Hope's Peak. He had a pair of loafers on his feet which made it comfortable for him to move around in.

"You okay there Kaito?" He asked as he offered a hand to him.

"Yeah, Shuichi. I'm good. It's just my pride that's wounded." Kaito sighed as he took the hand and was helped up. He brushed off any dust that had gotten on his purple pants and jacket that had a galaxy design on the inside of it. He made sure that his galaxy themed slippers were still secure on his feet before stuffing everything he had out into his bag.

"Still, with the way you fell, I thought you hit your head or something." Shuichi sighed as he and Kaito left the classroom. The corridor was slowly becoming full of students from Hope's Peak Academy. The government funded school for gifted students with ultimate talents.

"If I did, I don't feel it. I mean, I'm Kaito Momota, Luminary of the Stars. It wouldn't be a good story if the hero got hurt because of a grouchy teacher." Kaito boasted giving off a confident smile. It turned into a frown after he remembered what he was unfairly, and singly, given by the previous teacher. "I still can't believe that she gave me a crappy essay like that man!"

"Well, you did day dream in her class. Again." Shuichi sighed, not hesitating for a second.

"Hey! As my sidekick, you're meant to back me up here!" Kaito protested, feeling like what pride he had left was wounded even more.

"Sorry, but it is true." Shuichi sighed again, rolling his eyes a little.

"Shut up!" Kaito shouted, messing up Shuichi's hair in an almost playful manner. This made Shuichi duck down just to avoid the playful assault, grinning a little as he did so. "Geez, you really are the Ultimate Detective aren't you?"

"You don't need to be a detective to know that you were lost in space. Figuratively speaking of course." Shuichi smiled a little as he tidied up his hair, making it presentable again. "I'll see you later, I've got to get to my next class."

"Right, right. But this conversation isn't over, bro." Kaito called out after him as his friend started to walk away. Shuichi waved back as he became lost in the crowd from Kaito's line of sight. Kaito chuckled to itself quietly as he made his way to his locker. He needed to swap his current textbook for the one he needed for his next class. He opened up his locker, being met with removable star stickers, a photo of his grandparents and a small mirror on the inside of his locker door. After deciding whether or not to put a little bit of gel in his hair again (which he decided that it wasn't worth it in the end), he put his current textbook in the locker and took out the one that he needed. Something fell out of the lockers as he did so and Kaito was quick to catch it. He looked at what had fallen out and he felt like reality had slapped him in the face. It was the bracelet that he had intended to give to Maki. It had been six years since he last saw her, but he hadn't given up on her. The small, doubtful side of him was unsure if she even remembered him, but he dismissed instantly. There's not way she could forget him while he hasn't forgotten her. He still believes in her and that he'll see her again. It was just this nagging feeling that he had ever since Maki left. He never told his best friend about it because he didn't feel like it was a situation that Shuichi has to deal with.

Kaito felt his eyes sting as he remembered the car driving off with Maki inside it that day. He wiped his eyes furiously to prevent himself from crying. A man shouldn't cry in public after all. When he felt steady enough, he placed the bracelet back in his locker with great care, almost as if it was made of glass. He just as carefully closed the locker and started to head off to his next class. His mind was still unwillingly a little focused on Maki, when the Ultimate Astronaut suddenly bumped into someone. The resulted in both of them dropping the textbooks that they were holding.

"Hey! Watch it!" A girl's voice shouted, clearly annoyed by what happened.

"Sorry. My bad." Kaito said as he picked up his textbook. The girl didn't reply as she did the same and walked away. Kaito didn't get much of a glimpse other than the end of her long brown hair. Katio shook his head, a little annoyed by the girl's rudeness. He glanced down to make sure that his textbook wasn't damaged, and immediately felt like kicking himself. Of course he picked up the wrong textbook. This was one for a completely different lesson than the one he will be taking. Turning around quickly, Kaito could just see the same dark brown hair amongst the crowd.

"Hey! Hey wait!" He called out after the girl as he made his way towards her. He pushed past students with a quickened pace while the girl seemed to not hear him as she continued to walk steadily away from him. As Kaito tried to catch up to her, he noticed at how long the dark brown hair was. It was incredibly long, almost touching the floor. It flowed behind the girl. It was tied back into two ponytails by big, red scrunchies. It looked...so...familiar. 'No way. It couldn't be.' Kaito thought as he got closer.

"Excuse me." Kaito said as he gently tapped the girl's shoulder. This resulted in her whipping around to face him so suddenly that her hair almost hit him. Kaito once again felt like that he had been hit in the face. The hair, the face, the red eyes, he recognised the girl instantly.

It was Maki!

#Kaimaki #kaito momota #maki haruwaka #shuichi saihara #drv3 #childhood friends au

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sodalitefully · 3 years

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Santa Slash is coming to town...

This fic is the Christmas-themed spiritual successor to my Easter Bunny AU. Special thanks to @slashscowboyboots for supporting all my holiday nonsense!

Four snapshots from Slash’s Christmas prep marathon through the years:

🎄🎄🎄🎄

Jingle bells.

Fucking jingle bells.

There were FIFTEEN of them on the stupid-fucking-candy-colored costume he had to wear at this godforsaken excuse for a seasonal job. “Earn some extra cash,” they said. “It’s easy, you barely have to do anything,” they said. "You'll be perfect, you already look the part!" they said.

"They are about to find a size-ten jingle-toed bootie up their ass,” Axl said – to himself, as he rushed into the storage room turned "dressing room" and buttoned up his itchy red and green vest with one hand while sipping an Orange Julius from the food court with the other.

“Hey, Axl! You’re barely late today, awesome!”

And then there was this weirdo.

Axl could not for the life of him explain why a shopping mall in Indiana elected to hire a skinny dude in his 20s with a dark complexion and a nose ring to portray Saint Nick himself, but whatever the reason, Axl was stuck working with this fruitcake until Christmas Day. Sure Slash was nice enough (oh yeah, and his name was Slash, or at least that's how he introduced himself without offering any explanation or even a last name), but he was way too enthusiastic about getting paid minimum wage to let strange kids sit in his lap at a grimy old shopping mall.

Uh, not in a weird way, Slash was good with the kids, really. But sometimes... it seemed like he was taking his role a little too seriously.

"How come you don't have a beard?" the first customer of Axl's shift, a little girl in a Tweety bird sweater and blonde pigtails, asked suspiciously.

"That's a good question,” Slash said, scratching at his bare chin. The neck of his Motörhead Beyond the Threshold of Pain Tour T-shirt was visible over the faux fur collar of the Santa costume, and his shiny black boots clearly came from a military surplus store. “I get asked that a lot but the truth is, it just isn't a flattering look, trust me. I tried it once, and the elves could barely look at me in the eye." To Axl’s incredulity, the girl actually accepted that answer. "Now tell me, what would you like for Christmas this year, sweetheart?"

As usual, Axl tuned out at this point. Fake a smile for the overprotective parents, take the painfully awkward commemorative photograph, try not to look like he would rather die than hear Slash try to gently explain that Santa will probably not be delivering a pony this year one more damn time, rinse and repeat – until about an hour later, when the unthinkable happened.

The less said about about the incident, the better. Suffice to say, one of the darling angels tossed his Christmas cookies, and some of the resulting mess wound up soaking into the front of Axl’s elf costume. As if he needed another reason to hate his job; this was just adding insult on top of injury (that is, the injury to Axl’s pride as a result of being forced to wear the most ridiculous-looking costume he’s ever had the misfortune of laying eyes on).

“That’s it. I quit.” He grabbed the elf cap off his head and slammed it on the ground, then stormed through the exit gate past the sign wishing customers a "Holly Jolly Holiday Season," the bells on his costume ringing merrily as he stomped his feet.

“Hey, wait!”

“No,” Axl growled, but he did turn around to look back at Slash, still sitting in the plastic candy-cane throne unbothered by the mess or the sniffling child now mostly placated by a peppermint candy. "What."

Slash offered him a bright, beguiling smile.

"What do you want for Christmas, Axl?"

-----

Nothing said "holiday cheer" like wandering the tinsel-adorned labyrinth that was a Walmart superstore a week before Christmas, with Paul McCartney's "Wonderful Christmastime" echoing through the tinny PA system and surrounded by other last-minute vultures hopelessly scavenging the picked-over aisles.

In Izzy's defense, he actually finished all his shopping early this year, for once. But then his two little brothers begged him to drive them around town to find the perfect gift for a girl at school that they apparently both had a crush on, and like a fool he agreed.

He was regretting it now. Anything would be better than subjecting himself to nearly an hour of top-40 Christmas music. The jingle bells were jingling, the carolers were caroling, the B-list pop stars were spitting out god-awful covers of Christmas classics, and don’t even get him started on the commercials.

He wasn't about to walk around in public with his fingers shoved in his ears (at least, he wasn't that desperate yet), but he did squeeze his eyes shut and pinch the bridge of his nose, trying to force himself to relax. Just take deep breaths and think of The Rolling Stones...

"Hey, uh, you doing okay?"

Izzy opened his eyes reluctantly. In front of him was a young man wearing a concerned expression and a Santa hat, stuffed onto a massive pile of dark curls.

"I'm fine. Just finding out if it's possible to die from overexposure to Christmas music."

"Ahhh." The man nodded in understanding. "It's not, unfortunately. I've tested it, trust me."

"Do you work here or something?" Izzy asked. A leather jacket and ripped jeans didn't look like an employee uniform, but his hat matched the store decor and he didn't have a cart or shopping basket.

"No, I'm actually a seasonal distributor. Just checking in to make sure everything's in place before that last holiday rush, you know? Shit always gets crazy at the last minute."

"Tell me about it," Izzy responded, as if he knew a thing about marketing as a cynical 16-year-old. But he had first-hand experience with last-minute crises, and as if to prove it, his brothers came running up to him at that moment.

"Jeff! We can't find anything good, what should we do?"

"What's the problem?" the stranger in a Santa hat asked, looking genuinely concerned.

"We don't know what present to get for a girl at school," the boys explained.

"Hmm..." He tapped at his chin. "Why don't you just – oh wait, you're underage. Well, how about you bake her some cookies or something? That's what everyone does for me and I have no complaints."

Desperate to remove himself from this musical hell, Izzy jumped on the idea. "Yeah, you could do sugar cookies! And decorate them like horses, she likes horses right?” The boys had only mentioned that a dozen times; Izzy was starting to wonder if this girl even had any other personality traits.

To his relief, a spark lit up in his brothers' eyes. Cookies were a perfect idea, and suddenly they were dragging him away to look at cookie cutters and sprinkles.

Izzy turned around to shoot the helpful stranger a grateful look, but when he looked back, the man had disappeared with no trace, leaving not even a furry white pompom behind.

-----

Slash glanced out the window and grimaced – it was cold as a witch’s big bouncy tit outside, nothing but snow and ice as far as the eye could see. He pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders and took another swig of hot Irish coffee. Damn the North Pole, there was a reason he took his summer vacations in Malibu.

But despite the miserable work conditions, Slash was nothing if not dedicated to his job. In front of him was a sack overflowing not with toys but with the most recent letters to Santa, straight from the North Pole's post office. With Christmas only a few days away, his daunting task was to go through the whole mountain of letters as quickly as possibly in order to take their special requests into consideration before it was time to start loading up the sleigh.

Well, there was no time like the present to get started. Slash stretched his back and got comfortable in his coziest armchair (by throwing his legs over one armrest and slouching until his head rested on the other), absentmindedly tapping the end of his peppermint stick on the edge of an ashtray. He grimaced when he brought the stick back to his lips and realized his mistake.

With a sigh, he dropped the peppermint stick back in the ashtray already full of cigarette butts and ruined candies, and unfolded the first letter. In barely legible green marker, the message read:

Dear Santa Claus,

My name is Steven and I'm 5 years old. Please give me a skateboard for Christmas. My brother has one and he won't let me borrow it to learn tricks.

Hmmm. Five years old was a little young for a skateboard. Knowing Steven, he'd probably knock his teeth out by New Year's...

...Slash shrugged. Why not? All things considered, he would have killed for a skateboard when he was five, so who was he to say no?

-----

Duff was seven years old when his older brothers cornered him in the backyard and gleefully informed him that Santa Claus was a fraud. It was all a lie made up by parents to convince their children to behave during the year, they explained, and the toys were made on factory lines not by magical elves. Their mother gave them a hell of a scolding afterwards but it was too late, the deed could not be undone.

He tried to play it cool, but the truth was, Duff was very distraught as Christmas Eve inched closer. Could his siblings be right? He didn't want to believe it, but if he was being honest with himself, he'd suspected as much for some time. He braced himself to accept the hard truth come Christmas Eve – but only if he was presented with definitive proof.

When the fateful night finally came, Duff and two of his brothers laid out their sleeping bags behind the couch, where they'd be hidden from view if anyone tried to approach the Christmas tree. They all swore not to fall asleep, not even for a second until Christmas morning... And it wasn't until his brother started snoring that Duff realized he was the only one still awake and silently anticipating the moment of truth.

It was imperative, of course, that he stayed hidden and didn't make a sound, or else risk giving their plot away. But... it was past midnight, dinner was hours ago and Duff's empty stomach was starting to distract him from the task at hand. He couldn't stop thinking about all the food he would get to eat with his family on Christmas Day: the glazed ham, mashed potatoes, apple pie and Christmas cookies...

In the dim light, Duff could just barely make out the plate of cookies for Santa, waiting in front of the tree. The cookies were still there untouched, all six of them... Surely no one would notice if Duff ate just one?

He tiptoed over his sleeping siblings, as silent as the snow falling outside, making his way around the sofa to the plate on the coffee table. But just as he reached out to pluck a gingerbread man from the assortment, he saw a shadow of movement out of the corner of his eye. There, beside the Christmas tree in the flickering glow of multicolored string lights, was a mysterious figure in a fur-lined coat and a red cap.

Duff stared at the intruder, slack-jawed. The cookie clattered back onto the dish, and at the noise the stranger whirled around to face him.

"Duff! What are you doing still awake?" he demanded. Duff took a breath to answer – or more likely to ask how the man knew his name – but before he could, the man peered over the couch, narrowed his eyes and frowned. "Oh I see what this is. You thought you would catch your parents pretending to be me!" he accused. "Well, here's the real truth: adults are always wrong and you should never do what they say!"

The man – could he really be Santa Claus? – he planted his leather-gloved hands on his hips as he scolded Duff. "And don't even get me started on teenagers..." he griped, casting a stare over Duff's shoulder where his older brother's leg was sticking out from behind the couch, tangled in a blanket.

Tears started to well up in Duff's eyes.

"Please still give them Christmas presents! I know they said they don't believe in you, but they've been good, I promise!" he begged. Santa's expression softened.

"Aw, I know, kid. I promise they'll still get their presents, alright? Let me just finish up here and then maybe you can help me out with those cookies, sound good?"

Placated, Duff sniffled and nodded, scrubbing his eyes with his sleeve. He hopped onto the sofa, swinging his feet and watching with awe as Santa pulled beautifully wrapped gifts out of seemingly nowhere and stacked them around the tree, one after another until all eight of the McKagan children were represented. He took a step back to take in his handiwork, made a few minor adjustments, then turned back to Duff: “Voila! That’s the magic of Christmas. Now pass me that plate, would you?”

Santa sat down next to Duff and propped his boots up on the coffee table. When Duff held out the plate of cookies, he selected one decorated to look like Santa Claus, white beard and all, and promptly bit its head off.

“I love my job, but delivering presents is exhausting,” he sighed, accepting a glass of milk from Duff’s outstretched hand. “I’ve already covered Asia, Africa, Europe, and most of the Americas, so I’d say I’m due for a break. Cheers, Duff.” He held up his glass and Duff tapped it with his half-eaten cookie.

“To a merry Christmas and a happy New Year!”

🎄🎄🎄🎄

#which sounds better:#santa slash or slash claus?#what do yall eat on christmas? i realized while writing this that i have no idea what people normally have #sodafics #guns n roses #gnr #guns and roses #slash #saul hudson #axl rose #izzy stradlin #steven adler #duff mckagan #gnr fanfic #christmas

46 notes · View notes

starry-seongmin · 4 years

Text

The Genius Plan - 02′ Liners ft K

themes: crack, fluff?

warnings: none

words: 2.3k+

The gym was silent. Three of the boys were sitting and having an existential crisis. Not just having existential crisis but contemplating life itself and why were they just so goddamn stupid. Why didn’t they think before speaking and why they weren’t being swallowed by the ground. “I can’t believe you two dragged me into this”, Sunghoon let out a groan, glaring at Jay and Jake from the corner of his eyes.

Meanwhile, their two friends were stuck between making fun of them and helping them. They really outdid themselves for sure this time. Euijoo was trying to come up with a plan that would actually work for once while Nicholas was coming up with various ideas, each one more ridiculous than the previous one.

Now what led to this scene? What actually happened which left Jay, Jake and Sunghoon wanting to jump off the roof of their school?

Well, it all began a couple of days ago on an ordinary school day. Well, as ordinary it can be for the five of them.

Nicholas, Jay, Euijoo and Jay (Sunghoon had taken a sick leave from school) entered their school premises and being the ultimate heart throbs of the school, they obviously had multiple eyes following them and people talking about them as they passed. No matter what gender you were or what your sexual orientation was, your eyes would automatically gravitate towards them. They had this presence about them that left people staring.

But they were complete idiots. And everyone was well aware of that fact. But did it stop them from staring at them? Absolutely not.

Eujoo was someone you would only see in a fictional world. Kind, charming, respectful, a gentleman, charismatic, soft and to top it all off handsome. He was too good to be true. And when he wore a sweater or a hoodie with long sleeves and had sweater paws? You could see everyone just gushing over how soft and cute he looked. He was part of the student council and was friends with everyone. Even the awkward and introverted people felt comfortable in his presence. He radiated warmth and softness. Ask anyone about him and they will keep telling you how nice he is. Like, is he even real? Definitely the type of person your parents will approve of.

Jay would consider himself as that mysterious bad boy which left people intimidated but impressed. Absolutely no one thought of him like that. He was a delusional person. Everyone knew he was a kind hearted and soft person who joked around and loved to make people smile. And of course, like his friends, he was also a complete idiot and not to mention at times, a piece of shit. But goddamn, he is one of the most competitive people you’ll ever meet. Everyone is aware of his R.A.S.

Nicholas is someone who at first impression looks like a bad boy with his resting bitch face. But when he smiles..oh boy..when he smiles it’s game over. It’s like rainbows appear and cherry blossoms bloom when he smiles. Once people get to know him they would see he is really just a dork who enjoys life. Like, Jay, he is also a piece of shit at times. He would get into trouble with Jay often and the both of them would end up in detention the most. Everyone knew he has the biggest obsession with Rain. Ask anyone and they will tell you of the time he met Rain and accidentally smelled him.

Jake is another one who is the softest and one of the nicest people you’ll ever meet. Is on good terms with everyone and many people stop to talk him especially to hear his accent. His accent leaves everyone bursting the phattest uwus. His friends are over protective of him and everyone knows that. If someone does him dirty, Jay, Nicholas, Sunghoon and yes, even Euijoo will not hesitate to fight them. But no one wants to fight him in the first place. Another one who your parents will approve of.

Sunghoon, now he’s actually the one who intimidates everyone the most and he is not quite aware of it. Absolute prince like features. You will be surprised that there are no woodland creatures and birds surrounding him and singing. He’s the one who people don’t really interact with because of his cold features. Even though everyone knows that when he smiles and laughs, he looks like an absolute angel which calms their nerves a bit and encourages them to approach him even though they’re still a bit hesitant. Also known as the ‘Ice Prince’ because everyone knows how he rules the ice skating rink. You would’ve been living under a rock if you didn’t know about his talents.

Okay back to the story…

Jake walked to his first class which he shared with Euijoo. The teacher had not arrived yet and as the two entered their class, they greeted everyone as they made their way to their seats.

A shadow loomed over them, specifically over Jake and the two friends ceased their conversation to look up at a girl who was smiling shyly at them, her hands behind her back. Noticing her awkwardness, both of them smiled at her and she visibly relaxed. “Hi! do you need help?” Euijoo asked the girl who shook her head. “I just wanted to give this…little gift to Jake”, her timid voice barely made it to their ears but the little present she placed on their desk confirmed their speculation.

“Oh..”, Jake didn’t know what to say even though this wasn’t the first time someone gave confessed to him directly or indirectly. “Thank you, I really appreciate it but I can’t return your feelings…I’m sorry”, Jake smiled apologetically, letting the girl down easily. Her expression faltered but she put on a smile again. One which was just as awkward as her previous one. “That’s okay, I understand. You can still keep it”, she replied before taking her leave, waving at the two boys.

“Now how many of these do you have?”, Euijoo turned to Jake who was inspecting the wrapping. “This will be my fifth from this week”, he replied.“I feel so horrible when I have to let someone down.”, he sighed, carefully putting the gift in his bag. “At least she took it well”, Euijoo commented. Both the boys shuddered as they recalled those who made a scene or cried after being rejected.

Later in the day, during recess, Euijoo was on class duty so only Nicholas, Jay and Jake were sitting at their usual place. “Listen, I know what can put a stop to all those confessions and you two breaking people’s heart”, Nicholas proclaimed out of the blue, and quite proudly, at the dejected two who were looking at the confessions they had received today quite guiltily. Nicholas’ words piqued their interest and the two boys shifted their eyes to Nicholas who was stuffing a whole muffin in his mouth.

When he had swallowed the mouthful ever so gracefully, a small smirk made it’s way and he shifted closer to the two boys, leaning forward. As if something was pulling them closer, both Jay and Jake found themselves leaning forward in anticipation to what genius plan their friend had come up with.

“Pretend you’re already in a relationship”

And that my dear folks, was the idea of the year. The idea of all ideas. The very idea which led the five boys to where they are now.

Euijoo was mentally prepared to hold back Sunghoon from attacking them especially Jay. He was also mentally prepared to hold back Jay from attacking both Nicholas and Jake. And the poor boy was already mentally prepared to protect Jake from Jay’s wrath.

“What happened?”, a different yet familiar voice chimed in. All five boys were welcomed by the sight of a friend, a senior from their own school who had long graduated. “Kei hyung..”, Eujoo sighed in relief, thankful that someone more mature and older was there to keep the boys in check before any of them got knocked out.

Nicholas looked like he was dying to spill everything to the oldest boy. He was fighting off a laugh that was on the verge of escaping from his lips and his eyes were glinting with nothing but mischief. He was not even the slightest bit of guilty that it was his ‘fool-proof, one of a kind idea’ that got them in here in the first place.”

But before Nicholas could say anything to the confused K, Jay started complaining about the whole incident and thus, rained on Nicholas’ parade. It felt as if the boy had no plan on stopping and taking a breath with the way his mouth was moving. K, seemed very amused and was sporting a small smile.

“Okay so it all started with us getting confessions everyday to the point we were tired of rejecting people and breaking their hearts. And our genius here, Sir Wang Yixiang the First came up with the spectacular idea of us pretending to be in a relationship to put stop to all this.” Jay stopped to finally take a breath. Sunghoon, however, was not going to stay silent.

“Well, if Nicholas’ idea was genius than your idea was just out of this world wasn’t it!?” he cried out. K turned his head to Jay who seemed very quiet after Sunghoon brought him up. “What was your idea?”, K, it seemed was secretly finding the whole ordeal very entertaining as his eyes were swimming with humour.

“I…”, Jay couldn’t bring himself to speak and thus admitting his..now that he thought of it..it was actually stupid. “I told the people I was dating Sunghoon”, he finally admitted, swallowing his pride. K coughed to hide the slip of his chuckle and Euijoo was biting his lip, trying not to laugh. Nicholas, however, was utterly shameless as he started giggling which then turned into loud laughter. Jake, it seemed, was finding Nicholas’ laughter far hilarious than the situation itself as the boy hid his smile by covering it with his hand.

“Oh you’re laughing now?? Wait till you hear what our Jakey has to say”, Jay cried out, trying his best to save the remainder of his dignity. Jake choked when all attention was on him, face reddening. Suddenly he found his shoes the most interesting thing this universe had to offer. “Don’t be shy..tell hyung what you told the school..come on”, Jay prodded him.

Jake opened his mouth and mumbld something which K couldn’t make out at all. After being teased by Nicholas to speak up and embrace it, Jake finally took a deep breath and -

“I panicked and told the school I was dating Jay”

K had to sit down for this because if he didn’t his legs would’ve given away from how hard he was laughing. Nicholas was now on the floor, holding onto his stomach, Euijoo letting out adorable giggles and even Sunghoon managed to smile. Jay however was pinching the bridge of his nose, sighing and trying his best not to let his emotions take over him and poor Jake was smiling shyly.

“Where were all of you when this happened?”, K asked now that he had regained his composure and breath although, body still shaking. “I was with Jake when he announced his alleged relationship on a fine Tuesday during Literature class.” Euijoo replied, his arm around Jake for comfort. “And before they could tell us about it, Jay had already spoken about his ‘relationship’ with Sunghoon”, Nicholas continued, patting Sunghoon’s back.

K turned to face Sunghoon who looked exhausted. “What about you?”

“I was at home. Sick!”, he exclaimed. “Do you know how it feels when you come to school after a day and find out that you are now in a poly relationship which you weren’t aware about!?” the boy was hysteric. “And with them of all people!? I mean Jake is okay I guess..but Jay!? Hell no!”

“Hey!”, Jay looked extremely offended. “I would make a great boyfriend, okay? Way better than Jake!”, he protested. “Are you even hearing yourself right now!?”, Sunghoon couldn’t believe his ears. “Why are you guys laughing!?”, he turned to the audience of four who were in hysterics.

“why do comedy shows even bother”, Euijoo giggled. “They can never top this”.

“I can’t wait to tell the others of this”, K wheezed. Sunghoon and Jay immediately sobered up. “Hyung, you won’t”, Jay’s small voice of betrayal made the Japanese boy stop and stare at him. He was really like a younger brother to him and K knew that he’d do anything for him just to see him happy. “I most definitely will”.

The face Jay made was one for the books. The face of utter shock and betrayal. It felt like he was stabbed in the heart multiple times. “I thought you were my brother”

“Shouldn’t you be concerned that the whole school thinks you’re in a poly relationship?”, K teased. “But that’s Nicholas’ fault! It was his idea in the first place!” Jay whined, glaring at the Taiwanese boy.

“Hey, I only shared my idea. In no way I said that you two should act on it. It was just an idea, a suggestion merely. It’s the both of yours fault to follow it.”, he brushed off the accusation. Jay, it seemed was not willing to brush it off so easily as he pounced on the unsuspecting boy and captured him in a headlock.

Nicholas cried out for the others for help but no one bothered to except for Sunghoon, who stood up and walked to the two of them. However, as Nicholas had anticipated, Sunghoon didn’t even try to help him. Oh no..he wanted his share of revenge too.

So, he sat on the floor and made himself comfortable before attacking Nicholas. With tickles. To Nicholas, it felt his end was near, thrashing around like a fish out of water. A couple of minutes later, all three of them were on the floor, breathing heavily. “So am I forgiven?”, Nicholas asked tentatively, between his heavy pants.

“We’ll see”, both Jay and Sunghoon replied in unison.

Nicholas groaned, knowing he was done for. But was he going to learn from this?

Definitely not.

84 notes · View notes

jinned · 4 years

Text

ornamental | namjoon | m

snippet: “So, how is this a tradition? Are we going to be making sex ornaments every Christmas?”

pairing: namjoon x female reader

genre: smut/pwp, fluff

au: domestic, married couple, slice of life, christmas time yeeyee

rating: explicit

word count: 6.6k

warnings: namjoon falls into the ocean at one point, very brief mentions of being drunk?, they’re really cute with their traditions and grossly in love lmao i hate them, implied: reader has longer hair

sexual warnings: unprotected sex, rough sex, dom/sub dynamics, sir kink, dirty talk, marking, sexual polaroids, mentions of oral (male receiving), photographing during sex, pussy slapping, Namjoon calls y/n a slut, degradation, slight body worship, orgasm denial, teasing, hair pulling, belt whipping/ass whipping, punishment receiving, a belt is used to choke y/n with, mentions of predetermined sex rules, erotic asphyxiation(EA), reader is dizzy from the EA

a/n: this is a part of the 25 days of christmas collab! collab masterlist is here! I had so much fun being a part of this! thank you so much for letting me be a part of this :)

One of the best things about being newly married is creating new traditions.

Technically, you and Namjoon have lived in the same house for two years now, but, being married makes everything feel...different. New, refreshing, something about it feels like falling in love all over again. Admittingly, you did go a little nuts on the redecorating to celebrate the new chapter in your lives. You practically bought out the entire home and furniture store within the first week of living in the new home. Namjoon definitely thought it was silly and maybe a tad bit ridiculous. Yet, he never let on. He was always right there with you, ready to give his honest and caring input. Hell, he even offered to repaint the living room that ghastly tangerine orange color. Offered.

Don’t worry. Eventually you came to your senses and opted for a more practical color: sky blue.

Sometimes you feel a little bad for Namjoon. You know you can get a little crazy and you know that your sappy ideas of love and romance were something Namjoon had to learn from. And boy, was he ever so patient and willing to adapt. Not to say you haven't adapted for him too of course.

As the seasons grew colder, the excitement between you and your new husband flourished further. When you were engaged and even dating, you would both get giddy with the first color change of fall. Because that meant Halloween was quickly approaching. And after Halloween? Thanksgiving. And after Thanksgiving is the best of them all: Christmas.

Decorations for every holiday are kept nicely in their perspective boxes, tucked carefully away in the garage which, at this point, can't even fit a car inside it anymore.

Christmas is fast approaching and although you're more than excited already, this year is going to be different. This excitement has been elevated ten fold because you and Namjoon have decided to create new Christmas traditions. And, now that you think about it, creating a new tradition every year has become its own tradition. The first Christmas you and Namjoon started dating, your tradition was to make gingerbread houses. The second year, you each bought a new Christmas themed movie and watched them on Christmas Eve. The third year, Namjoon came up with the idea to exchange favorite memories of the past year. The fourth year, you both finally broke down and found matching pajamas and finally, the fifth year, tacky Christmas card photos to send to your friends and family. Each year gains new traditions and soon you won’t have enough time in the day to do them all!

This year, you took the more mysterious route. And so did Namjoon.

When you both sat down for dinner a few days after Thanksgiving, you proposed your new Christmas tradition: personalized stockings. The idea was that you would decorate a stocking for Namjoon and fill it with his favorite things like candy, movies, and little trinkets. And he would do the same for you. Namjoon was thrilled with the idea, claiming to already have just the things he'd want to stuff your stocking with. You had thought that was that. That was the new tradition.

But, after a few more mouthfuls of food at dinner, Namjoon pitched his idea.

"I want to make personalized ornaments."

Oh, your heart fluttered right there on the spot. Namjoon has been more shy to romantic gestures, letting you lead the way. If there was something you wanted, he’d get it. If you wanted flowers every Monday, then he’d do it. But every girl knows that telling your man what you want all the time just takes the spontaneity out of things.

For him to share this comfortably and with confidence was a huge step.

Fast forward a couple of days and that's when you married the man of your dreams. On December 1st, your fairy tale came to life.

Normally, the average couple wants to have their wedding in the spring or summertime. Weather is less unpredictable, people are more able to RSVP, etc. You and Namjoon were not the average couple. Instead, you both opted for a winter wedding. The holiday season is both your favorite time of the year and being able to add your wedding anniversary into the mix? Neither of you had to really think on that one too much.

The wedding was one for the books as fluffy white snowflakes danced down to the ground, Namjoon’s rosey dimpled cheeks smiling at you as you walked down the aisle. Everyone around you blurred. He was the only thing you could see clearly.

Now fast forward a couple more weeks and it's Christmas Eve. The day you look forward to every year. The day before Christmas.

The tacky Christmas cards were sent last week, all the shopping has been done. It's time to get cozy with your husband.

A lot of magic gets put into the weeks, days, and even hours before Christmas Eve. Decorating almost becomes a part time job for you. Everything needs to be perfect.

Namjoon woke you up early to help him prep the Christmas Eve dinner which included turkey, mashed potatoes, homemade cornbread, and enough green beans to feed a village. You let Namjoon lead and became his assistant; grabbing all the utensils he needed to get that turkey perfectly prepped.

When the turkey is in the oven, there's still no time to rest. You sneak off into the spare bedroom to gather up Namjoon's presents. Pride swells deep in your stomach as you look at the collection of assorted gifts and trinkets wrapped to perfection in an array of holiday wrapping paper. This year was the year you tried extra hard to not give him any presents early or accidentally hint at what you've gotten him. Just one more night...you can last for one more night. You put them back in their hiding place, denying every cell in your body that’s telling you that one gift won’t hurt!

Maintaining your self control, you walk out of the room and rejoin your husband.

The day passes by all too quickly. Before you know it, you're bringing your empty plate to the sink, wobbling as you acclimate to your now bloated belly.

"You've outdone yourself this year, Joon," you sigh with content as you sink into the couch cushions. "I don't think I'll be able to fit into my work pants on Monday."

Namjoon chuckles from the kitchen as he rinses the plates, drying his hands with a small towel as he emerges into the living room and joins you on the couch.

"The chef enjoys your compliments." He tosses the towel towards the hallway where he will absolutely forget it's existence and slip on it later tonight. It's happened more than once now.

"The chef," you cheekily lean in closer to him, smiling wide and bright before you kiss the base of his neck, "is too good to his customer." You kiss his neck again and he sighs, pulling you closer to his body.

The sun starts to go down and the air grows crisper, pinks and oranges cascade into the living room and mingle with the abundance of Christmas lights you have hanging around the room and the tree. You bounce around with excitement as it comes time to give your husband his stocking. Per tradition, of course.

"Sit down by the fire!" You giggle, squealing away as you run into the spare bedroom to your secret stashing place, pulling out the forest green stocking you've stuffed to the brim with things for Namjoon. For a moment, you contemplate getting out the rest of his presents. Both of you decided many years ago to not pre put Christmas presents under the tree because 1. you're a terrible secret keeper and 2. you're terrible at waiting and 3. last year you got way too drunk and accidently stepped on one of the gifts you were going to give to Namjoon. Deeming you both a clumsy mess, Namjoon presented the idea of putting presents under the tree the morning of Christmas. That way you could still get your cute photos and open presents only minutes later.

You hold Namjoon's stocking behind your back, careful to not let anything slip out from the top, and sit in front of Namjoon. The fire warms your back, instantly heating up your flannel pajamas, as your knees touch Namjoon's. A sly grin is painted on his face as he too holds his arms behind his back.

"Ready?" You're practically springing up and down with excitement.

"Go!" Namjoon laughs as he pulls out what he's been hiding and you do the same. You both quickly pass each other the stockings you've made.

"Oh my god, Namjoon there's like thirty bags of Swedish Fish in here!" You hunch over as you laugh, pulling out bag after bag and pile them into your lap.

"Those better last you all week! I don't want another 'Joonie'," he clasps his hands together and widens his eyes comically, pouting his lips and raising the pitch of his voice higher, "'on your way home from woorrrkkk can you stop and get me my fishies?'"

You smack him playfully on the thigh, the sound echoing in the living room. "I don't sound like that!" You laugh along with him, but already your mouth is drooling, the sweet-savory taste of Swedish Fish already dancing on your tongue.

"Oh, cool!" Namjoon pulls something out of his stocking and holds it closer to his eyes. "I've been wanting to see this movie! Thanks, babe!"

You smile as he continues to dig through his stocking. Stockings are a very traditional part of Christmas, but you wanted to go the extra step. Not only did you hand pick the fabric of the stocking, but you also sewed it together. Deep, soft green flannel accessorized with a plush, fuzzy grey trim really didn't take that long to put together. Overall, the best part was getting that sparkly silver glitter glue and putting that big 'N' on the front. It turned out just how you wanted it, and watching Namjoon hold it delicately in his hands gives you a sense of accomplishment.

He definitely tried with your stocking, that's for sure. Namjoon also sewed together his own fabrics, which actually surprises you because, let's be real, most guys would just go out and buy a premade stocking and stick your name on the front and call it good. But Namjoon isn't most guys and he proves that to you as much as he can. Although slightly wonky, you can tell he took his time and put forth his best effort with this gift. The stitches are definitely not going the same way, but they're consistent.

Going the complete opposite of Christmas themed, Namjoon opted for a bright neon orange fabric that kinda hurts your eyes if you stare at it too long. Bright pink and yellow pom poms are scattered all around the fabric and you're lowkey afraid your husband murdered a clown to make you this.

"It's a sunset."

You look up to see Namjoon smiling at you proudly, the stocking you made him hugged loosely to his chest. His dimples are deeply set as the tips of his cheeks redden.

You stare at the stocking with a new sort of fondness and it's hard to fight the brimming tears quickly forming.

"It's beautiful, Joon. I love it." Carefully setting it aside, you lean forward and pucker your lips. Namjoon meets you halfway and you resist the urge to sigh as his lips meet yours. All too soon, he pulls away.

The next couple minutes go by leisurely as you both continue to dig up the little treasures hidden in the stockings and once you're done, Namjoon starts to fidget.

"Excited?" You tease, already surrounded by Swedish Fish candy wrappers.

Namjoon looks back and winks at you playfully. "Very."

Laughing, you wait as he pulls out his next gift. Namjoon's tradition idea to make personalized ornaments is one you can't believe you haven't thought of sooner. He reaches far back behind the Christmas tree, a few pine needles escaping their branches and planting themselves into Namjoon's pajamas.

He shakes his head, sprinkling pine needles onto the hardwood floor as he holds a loosely wrapped gift.

"Before I give you this, I want you to show me yours first."

Puzzled, you reach under the couch and fish out your own gift. "I thought the idea was whoever came up with the idea presents first?"

"Yes. But this time is different." There's something coy to the way he's talking, like he's trying to mask a smile, but his cheeks are still tinged red. He's got something more up his sleeve than just a unique Christmas ornament, that's for sure.

Tingling with curiosity, you push it aside as you hand your gift over to Namjoon. Opting for a small bag instead of wrapping paper, Namjoon flips the bag upside down and catches the ornament in his hand.

Smiling, he looks closer at it to see you've filled it with a shit ton (and you’re not exaggerating) of sparkly blue glitter. There's a tiny cutout picture of Namjoon from your vacation to the beach last year inside and his facial expression is definitely not one you can look at while keeping a straight face.

Present Namjoon bursts out laughing, nearly dropping the gift.

"Is this-? Did you-?" He can barely talk in-between aggressive ‘ha ha's’, his free hand covering up his mouth as he does so. Namjoon's deep brown eyes sparkle as he recalls the memory of how he tripped and fell into the ocean. Not from a pier or anything, no. The two of you were walking hand in hand along the beach when Namjoon tripped sideways and went shoulder first into the shallow shores, nearly taking you down with him.

At first you were concerned, but then you saw as Namjoon continued to flip backwards, going further and further out into the water. Then fear overcame you. You rushed in after him, fully prepared to save the nearly drowning fiancée of yours.

After a lifeguard and several kind pedestrians determined Namjoon was more than okay, you couldn't hold back the laughter bubbling quickly from your chest. From the ground, Namjoon laughed with you, claiming he couldn’t even walk right anymore.

Although scary in the moment, it's a memory the both of you love to laugh about.

Namjoon wipes a finger under his eyes as his laughter diminishes, sitting up to place the ornament in the center of the tree on full display for everyone to see.

"That was amazing, babe. Thank you." He sits back down and picks up what has to be your ornament resting by his knee. You can only imagine what he could have possibly placed in there. There's so many inside jokes between you two that you're having a hard time thinking of a specific one. Namjoon can be brutal when it comes to inside jokes. But he can also be really sweet...and seeing as it's your first Christmas together as a married couple, there's definitely a chance that he's put in something romantic.

As you unwrap your gift, you almost drop it as you gasp. Namjoon looks at you with a smug expression on his face and something hidden behind those deep brown eyes of his.

In your palms you hold what appears to be a handmade ornament. It's clear with black and grey glitter poured into it. And sitting on top is a picture.

But it's no ordinary picture.

You try to swallow but your throat feels alarmingly dry.

"Namjoon..." your tongue tastes funny as you say his name slowly, almost like old water that’s been sitting out in the living room for a couple of days.

He raises his eyebrows suggestively, resting his arm on his knee as he tries to appear nonchalant. "You said you wanted us to create our own traditions. Something unique to the both of us. What's more unique and special than this?"

The ornament feels hot in your hand and it's frustratingly hard to make yourself not look at it. Heat continues to flicker from your palms and grows through your arms and swallows itself down into your stomach. But it doesn't stop there. Oh no. You feel this heat down in-

"So, how is this a tradition? Are we going to be making sex ornaments every Christmas?" It's not so easy to keep your tone nice and steady. You don't know if you should laugh, be turned on, angry- oh who are you kidding? You're definitely turned on. The photo in the ornament is one worthy enough for the tumblr porn page aesthetics. In the photo it's you on your knees with Namjoon's cock halfway down your throat. Mascara tears dribble down your cheeks as they hallowed around his member.

"The tradition," Namjoon's voice is silkier than silk itself and the low grumble in his throat is enough to shoot an intense wave of arousal throughout your body, "is that we fuck and take a polaroid, and put the polaroid into a clear see through ornament to commemorate the experience."

You've gotta admit, this is sexy as fuck.

Namjoon licks his bottom lip as he tries to read your body language. He's looking sexier than ever in his bright red Christmas pajamas that you both picked out last month. Matching pajamas, another Christmas tradition you've both adopted.

Speaking of pajamas, you don't want to have yours on any longer, no matter how cute and comfortable they are.

Leaning forward slightly, you grip the base of your shirt and slowly start to pull it over your head. You hear Namjoon's breath hitch in his throat as your shirt rises over your chest, exposing your unsupported breasts to him.

Once the shirt is fully over your head, you toss it at the side wall, giving Namjoon a wink as you do so.

"For a little while, I wasn't sure how you would take this whole explicit ornament idea, but holy fuck am I glad I decided to go with it." Namjoon seems stuck in place, completely in awe as his eyes roam over your half naked body.

"Oh!" You start, scaring Namjoon slightly. "It's so cold!" You look at your husband innocently as you take one of your fingers and start rubbing your left nipple. "Look how hard my nipples are." You pretend to pout, loving how wide Namjoon's eyes are as he continues to watch you play with yourself. He looks like a man who's just won the lottery and you wouldn't be surprised if he started jumping up and down for joy.

"I think I'm gonna go back to the bedroom." You stand up and look over your shoulder, winking at him once more as you slyly shimmy your pants off, bending all the way over to free the garment off your ankles.

With an open mouth and wide eyes, Namjoon slowly lifts up the polaroid camera and snaps a picture, eyes unwavering from where he was looking.

Sauntering down the hallway, you pause to see if Namjoon is following you, but he remains frozen in place.

"Pity," you sigh, "I was hoping you would come keep me warm."

Confused, Namjoon's eyebrow raises as his eyes finally meet yours. "You really wanna snuggle? Now?"

Annoyed, you drop the act and turn towards your dumbass husband. "Namjoon, you just showed me a sexy polaroid and I just stripped in front of you. Get your ass in that bedroom and come fuck me like the beast you are."

He didn't need to be told that twice.

You squeal as he quickly stands up. His shirt and pajama pants are discarded in record speed as he runs after you. Catching up to you easily, Namjoon tackles you onto the bed, pinning his legs on either side of your hips.

And there it is, in all its glory: Namjoon's hardened cock staring you right in the eyes, hidden by the thin lining of his boxers. Despite the obvious piece of male anatomy blocking your vision, you find yourself looking up into Namjoon's eyes, your mind slipping away from the present moment. It's one of those surreal moments that only happens in the movies and you never would have imagined it could happen to you. Just a few weeks ago, you were walking down the aisle, eyes searching for that comfort in Namjoon's. Smiling goes a lot further to Namjoon than just using your mouth. When he smiles, his whole face lights up. From the lines by his eyes to the way his nose scrunches, Namjoon smiles with everything he has. It's one of those smiles that makes you want to run into his arms, bury your face in his chest, and just relax, let go of every stress and worry you've had built up.

"Hey. Where you at?" Namjoon chuckles above you.

Grinning softly, you shake your head from side to side. "Sorry. I'm here."

You look up at him and there's a moment of softness at the edges of his eyes. And then they wander down, his gaze caressing your body and that softness turns into dilated pupils, a deep, pain invoking hunger settles in. You're more than ready for him to just eat you up.

Namjoon licks his lips tauntingly before diving in towards your own lips. And like a fish taking the bait, you’re hooked. He tastes like gingerbread cookies and peppermint; a mixture you didn’t realize could be so addictive until this moment. Your tongues roll together as you move your heads from side to side, tasting each other, neither particularly fighting for dominance.

Like water, you both flow together as Namjoon guides you on top of him. Demanding to be acknowledged, Namjoon’s cock twitches angrily against your thigh, and like any sane person would do (or insane, let’s be real), you swivel your hips and grind against his growing, hardening length. Wincing beneath you, Namjoon’s face starts to redden. From the stuffiness of the room or from trenchant nature of your movements, you’re not sure.

You slow down your movements and pin Namjoon’s arms at his sides, not allowing him to touch your body at all.

“Y/n,” he warns, the veins in his forearms beginning to thicken.

Ignoring him, you continue to grind on him with stripper level intensity. It has always been a personal goal to make your husband come in his pants. Something about getting him off without even physically removing his cock from his underwear is oh so motivating.

Namjoon, on the other hand, thinks differently.

Lowly growling, he uses the strength from his thigh muscles to trap you in place, winking at you before he flips you on your side, and ultimately gaining the upper hand. Now it’s him who’s pinning your wrists on either side of your face. Holding his gaze, you try to appear unfazed by his graceful assertion of dominance, so it’s all the more frustrating that he chooses to not only disconnect your glares, but to proceed to fist his cock sloppily, hardening himself even more: he clearly does not see you as a dominant competitor today.

When Namjoon is feeling particularly more feral than normal, he runs the bedroom like a potentate; what he says goes, and you better obey quickly unless you want to be punished. Mercilessly. On some occasions, you're the good girl who listens well and obeys commands perfectly. On other days (most days), you love poking the bear just to see how far his punishments will really go.

Today is definitely one of those days.

Namjoon releases your wrist, leaning back on his knees as he wordlessly motions for you to flip over. He gets off the bed, one hand still gripping his cock tightly, as he goes to where he put the polaroid down. Now, on your hands and knees, you move your hips from side to side, slowly wiggling your ass tauntingly in front of him as he attempts to put more film into the polaroid camera. "Namjoooooon," you pout, lips pursed as you whine to your husband. "Don't you want to spank me? Put your big, strong hands all over my body. I think I need to be reminded about who I belong to." Unable to contain your pout, you smirk as Namjoon narrows his eyes. You know exactly what he's contemplating: should he reward you or punish you for your explicit neediness.

Suddenly, your head is forced up until you're looking at the ceiling and your stomach tumbles with joy.

Punishment it is.

Namjoon releases your ponytail, your head collapsing back between your arms that are still holding up your body. Your heart races as you try to catch your breath, eagerly anticipating Namjoon's next move.

The bed creaks as Namjoon goes and opens the closet door. Sneaking a peek over your shoulder, you see him opening up his sock drawer. Momentarily confused, it all makes sense when he pulls out his black leather belt.

Instantly, chills shiver their way through your body. Yes, you wanted him to spank you. But you meant with his hands.

Namjoon holds the belt between both hands as he turns back to you, snapping the leather against itself as he tests the product before then slapping it across his own palm. A sinister smile paints that gorgeous face of his and you've never been happier to be in love with an actual demon.

Clasping your hands together tightly, you brace for what's to come, knowing you're going to orgasm so hard later.

"Count," Namjoon commands and without a moment's hesitation, you hear the crack of the belt on your skin before you feel the stinging hot pain. Gasping loudly, all you can think about is how you can't wait to see the bruised redness on your ass afterwards. Something about having markings leftover from any sexcapade leaves you feeling accomplished and slightly dirty.

"I said count," he grits through his teeth, but he waits until he hears you to continue.

"One!" You squeeze your eyes tightly and wait for the second hit.

"Two!" You cry. Wetness oozes from between your legs and you're wondering how many Namjoon is going to administer. You just want his cock in you already. Almost like a stomach growling when delicious food is near, that's how you feel right now. But it isn't food that will satisfy this hunger.

Five more whips later and you start to shake at your elbows, grasping the sheets tightly between your fingers and biting down on the pillow in front of you. The sting on your ass feels so good and you're honestly surprised that last smack didn't send you straight into an orgasm. Namjoon knows his way around that belt, hitting each spot perfectly and with enough force where it doesn't necessarily hurt. It's all pleasure.

Namjoon discards the belt and takes hold of your ponytail, wrapping your hair around his knuckles before pulling. It's a little rougher than usual, tears brimming your eyes as you wince. To anyone else, they probably wouldn't have been able to handle the neck cramp, or the stinging on your scalp. But it only turns you on more. You bite your bottom lip as he gives your ponytail another yank, this time to the side so you're able to see him out of your peripheral. It's animalistic how he looks at you; a low growl festering deep within his throat, his mouth practically watering as he looks at you.

"So beautiful," he mutters as he hand grips your hair tighter. His other hand moves over the curvature of your ass, the lightness of his touch giving you goosebumps. Arousal is about to start dripping out of you any second. Namjoon knows how sensitive you are with your senses. He gives your ass a hard squeeze before resuming his light touches.

"Are you ready, baby?" he whispers fondly from behind you. His hand is hovering over your clit, you can sense it.

"Yes, sir."

With the sound of his respected name, Namjoon slaps your cunt harshly with approval, making you cry out in pain and surprise. Focusing all your energy on keeping yourself upright, you can’t help but tremble more as you grip the sheets tighter and tighter. You can feel his hand take away some of your slick as he pulls away from you. Hiding your face in the crook of your arm, you wait for your punishment for being too turned on so quickly.

You chance a look behind you, his grip on your hair loosening enough for it to tumble away from his fingers. He's staring at his other hand, your arousal glimmering in the faint room light, like small spider webs woven between his fingers. Namjoon's thick eyebrows furrow as he continues to contemplate the slickness on his hand. You swallow hard, afraid to speak up.

Wordlessly, Namjoon wipes the remanence of your juices onto his thighs, his jaw set tightly as his mouth forms a thin line.

“Sir?” You croak out, “What’s wrong?”

There’s a moments pause before he finally speaks.

“Only sluts get that wet that quickly.”

You turn back to face the headboard, hiding your gleeful smile as his authoritative tone vibrates throughout your body. It’s been a while since he’s called you a slut in the bedroom. In fact, if you recall correctly, the last time he called you a slut was after he took that polaroid of you a few months ago. The same polaroid that he put in his Christmas ornament.

Dripping more than a loose faucet, all you want is for him to plug you up, to fill you completely.

Which he easily complies to.

Tingling with anticipation, you let out a soft moan as you feel Namjoon slide the tip of his cock up and down your folds. You shiver as if there’s a slight chill in the room, but really, you feel burning hot.

"Are you a good girl? Hmm? A good little slut?" He asks from behind you, hips unmoving as he rests his member deep within your cunt.

"I'm a very good girl, sir."

You fight every urge, every nerve in your body that screams to move, to get some sort of friction going from your body to his. But, like you said, you're a good girl. So, you grip tightly to whatever self control you have left.

"But not a good slut?" He massages the mounds of your ass, delicately running his fingers across your skin. Goosebumps spread across your body from the sensational touch as he continues his motions almost thoughtlessly.

So he's playing a game, you decide. Always trying to exercise that brain of his no matter the setting, that's Namjoon for ya.

"Oh, I'm the worst slut, sir," you play along, "I feel so bad for you, stuck with a broken play thing like me." You jut out your bottom lip to help enunciate the deep pout you're going for.

Namjoon growls in response, hips twitching as he refrains from moving still.

"What's wrong?" You consciously clench around him. "Having a hard time...focusing?" You roll your hips backwards, milking out a delicious moan from your husband’s lips. His hands grip your ass so tight that you wince. But it's totally worth it.

"Only," he pants, "I can talk about you like that."

Grabbing the belt from the side of the bed, he quickly and flawlessly wraps the leather around your throat, just below your chin and above your windpipe. Namjoon pulls back, momentarily cutting off your airways. He loosens it after counting to ten, a rule you both placed years ago when it comes to rough choking like this. The restricted air leaves you feeling lightheaded in all the best ways. It's a form of high unexplainable and unattainable through any other forms. And right when Namjoon pulls himself out just to slam back inside of you, he pulls on the belt once again so that when his cock hits the back of your walls you're more than sky high.

Thrusting slow, Namjoon works up a steady momentum that includes restricting your breath every so often. In a way, it's almost like orgasm denial every time he loosens his grip and lets you breathe properly again.

"Now," Namjoon's breath is raggedy after continuing to maintain his flawless control over his urges to pound you through the mattress, "Are you a good slut or a bad slut?"

"I'm a good slut, sir!" Your voice is faint against the belt. Namjoon has loosened his hold on it so that you could speak without too much struggle. But he quickly tightens it again, your eyes rolling backwards as he hits your sensitive spot over and over again. Namjoon guides your head back until you feel his chest against your back. His breath his hot against your ear as he growls through gritted teeth, his thrusts becoming sloppy and inconsistent.

"You're mine."

Suddenly, the belt is tossed aside and Namjoon flips you onto your back. Air seems to be nowhere near your lungs as you gasp, your husband moving too quickly for your lightheaded brain to process.

He spreads your legs open, getting a clear look at your core. Cock twitching, Namjoon moans and fists himself as he stares at your naked body.

"It is so hard to keep my self control when you're around."

"I'm around all the time," you reply, watching him closely as he continues to attend to his weeping red member.

"That's the problem."

Nothing more needs to be said. He pounces like a predator on its prey. His hands grip your shoulders, using them as leverage as he buries his cock between your legs. It happens so fast you barely have time to appreciate the feeling of his head pushing past your walls, stretching you so perfectly it leaves you breathless.

Namjoon grips your thighs tightly as he thrusts deeper and deeper into you. Nails raking against your skin leaves hot burning lines that make you gasp and moan. Whenever he shifts his weight on your thighs, it’s like a direct tingling line of sensation that shoots right to your core.

Namjoon’s bangs stick to his forehead with sweat, little dewdrops threatening to fall over your chest as he continues to thrust in and out of you. The rawness of his cock against you is gone, you’re so wet that he easily slides in and out of you. When you get this wet, as in...wetter than a fucking ocean, Namjoon likes to play a little game. He’ll slow down his thrusts, agonizingly inching his cock out of your hole and waits a few moments before pushing himself back in, bottoming out and slowly pressing against your sweet spots. Part of you thinks he does it to control the intensity of your flow, but the other part of you is nearly certain that he does it because he’s actually Satan himself and gets off on torturing you to no end.

And that's exactly what he starts to do.

Protesting will get you nowhere, you've learned that over the years of being with him sexually. Namjoon's self control is out of this world, even when he has his moments of weakness. You swear that man could go months without an orgasm if it meant teasing you into insanity.

"No!" It doesn't hurt to try to protest every now and then does it? "Namjoon please. No teasing. Fuck me like you mean it!"

Wordlessly, Namjoon picks up the polaroid camera from the side of the bed, his cock still buried deep inside you. "Let's make some magic, baby."

Pulling out of you slightly, Namjoon brings the camera to one of his eyes, squeezing the other eye tightly shut as he focuses the camera down at your private areas. Bright light flashes in the dimly lit room without warning, dazing you as you hear the whir of the camera spitting out the image it just captured. Dark colors litter your vision every time you blink, your eyes not adjusting as quickly as you would hope.

Carelessly, Namjoon tosses the polaroid to the left of the bed and removes his cock completely from your aching pussy.

"Turn around," he commands. "No, not like that." He groans as you position yourself on your hands and knees. You turn to look at him and ask what he means, but his large hand pushes the back of your head down until your cheek is squished against a pillow. Namjoon grabs your hips roughly, adjusting them back until your ass is as high up in the air as possible.

"Perfect," he mumbles. The tip of his cock greets your folds once again. They remain teasingly on your lips. Light flashes again followed by the loud whir. "Your ass looks amazing in this."

"You can't even see the photo yet." Grumbling against the pillow, you try to distract yourself from the ever growing ache within your cunt. This slow, unintentional teasing can only go on for so long.

"I know." You can hear the smile in his voice as he lovingly pets your right ass cheek. As you're about to reply, your walls are being stretched once again. Snarky reply forgotten, you moan out his name as he bottoms out inside you, not even wasting a moment before he pulls out and slams back inside.

Namjoon continues to snap his hips back and forth against you, the back of your thighs tingling with each thrust.

"Fuck!" he yells out, his pace quickening. "You feel so fucking good! I should have gotten a picture with that belt around your throat!"

You whimper your response, enjoying his cock too much to even form words.

"You're right," Namjoon's smirk is visible even in the dimly lit light. "We'll just have to do it next time."

The polaroid light flashes right as your orgasm takes over your body. Eyes rolled back, mouth wide open, it's a photo worthy enough to be the star on the Christmas tree. There might even be a hint of drool on your chin.

Before thoughts can even begin to form in your head, Namjoon's hands are on your waist once again, flipping you onto your back. The camera is in one hand as he aggressively pleasures himself to completion. White hot come paints your skin from the divots of your collar bone all the way down to your hip bones.

Panting loudly, Namjoon steadies himself as he stands over you, shaking hands raise up the camera, pointing directly at your cum covered self.

"Beautiful." Breathlessly, the picture is taken and your husband lays down besides you.

"I love our little sexmas tree." You smile brightly as you lean into Namjoon's arms as you both gaze at your now very not-safe-for-work Christmas tree, decorated entirely with the new polaroid photos you took less than an hour ago.

"Me too." He squeezes you tightly before freezing up. "We should probably take them down before you're parents come over tomorrow."

Clinging to Namjoon as you laugh, for a moment it feels like time slows. Your laugh sounds far away and you feel your body move as if it were underwater. It isn't a scary or unsettling feeling, no. In this moment you feel on top of the world. No one can knock you down.

All too quickly, things go back to normal.

"God, I would hate to see that reaction. But for now, let's leave them up."

Namjoon leans down and kisses you lightly on your left temple, guiding you back to the bedroom to get some well earned sleep.

𝓂𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉

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diedieri · 3 years

Text

WIP - Unfinished- Holiday Brickercup (that sounds like a cookie)

So I really really wanted to get this finished the for Holiday but..Kinda lost steam.

I loved the idea of fluff n smut and I was like I need to get some Brick and Buttercup action so it doesn’t bleed too much into the main fic (LOLOLOLOL WELP)

so...this is unfinished, it’s a one shot, who knows maybe I’ll feel motivated later. I had a whole vision for this and for a Butch x Buttercup one shot too

alas...

I legit have not reread a damn word of this.

Little ficlet under the cut. I guess a bit of a warning-- i love all the dumbass holiday movie tropes. xDDDD;; so that’s what this (and the other) were supposed to be. Self indulgent lol WHEN AM I NOT YOLO.

If motivation does hit me, i will prolly put the finished product up on AO3

happy holidays merry christmas, mask up and stay safe

Christmas.

Cookies. Presents. Families. Snow. And escape plans.

Year after year, Buttercup had told herself she was going to skip it. Tell her family oh sorry, she had other plans. Every year, she came closer than the last. Last year had been that final straw. Buttercup, the only single sister watching everyone laugh and clap at the serendipitous surprise of both Blossom and Bubbles being proposed to. Buttercup was happy for them, and hateful for every family gathering to follow. Every time her sister’s promised they knew a girl, they knew a guy, that she would just love if she gave them a chance!

Buttercup hadn’t been looking for love or waiting for it. There was a city to save. Work to be done.

So this Christmas, she had a plan. From Halloween on she’d been dropping hints and planting the seeds of her having someone to see. Being late due to a date. At last when Blossom proposed the time the meet at the house, Buttercup laid out her cards.

“Oh, this year I’m actually going out of town! It’s nothing, big…Just.” She had to downplay it and let her sisters assume it was her pride getting in the way. They were elated and made her swear next year she’d insist the plans be back at the Professors.

It would have been just as easy to stay home in her apartment to play out her rouse. The more Buttercup had begun to imagine her would be date, the more she had decided to be accurate, incase anyone asked questions. She’d tell them which cabin she was going to, how cold it was going to be. She researched every night until one day she had done it. She booked a cabin from a small mom and pop place. They had pictures on their website but you had to call to make reservations.

What would Christmas be without a little self-indulgence? Wine, lingerie, bathbombs, and cookies were all on the list. It was her first vacation ever, the first ever alone at least. Bubbles had given her a gift just for the trip, a freshly knitted scarf and cap. Blossom bought her an expensive leather jacket. The professor got her doc martins. The guilt bled in a little. Only a little. She need the time away. To feel good and sane again. The distance would help her love her family and not strangle them.

“Ms. Utonium! You’re. Here.” The disappointment had never been more obvious. Buttercup barely got in the door, she hadn’t been able to shut it quick enough without letting snow blow in. Even her vision had been questionable in the brewing snow storm. Her cheeks were red and fingers nearly frozen shut around the handles of her duffle.

“Yeah,” Buttercup didn’t smile to met the woman’s nervous countenance. She was portly and rosey cheeked, though Buttercup would argue it was more flustered than natural. She set her bag at her feet. A distance from the counter.

“Oh sweetie,” Her distance instantly recognized, “I didn’t mean anything by it, it’s just. Well.” She shuffled from behind the counter, her hands wiped over her apron hand stitched with an abundance of Christmas decorum. It matched the check in cabin nicely. Two trees. Real pine. A burning fire place. There were presents neatly placed under the pine and stockings stuffed to the brim. The lights on this cabin had been a dead give away when she wasn’t sure where to check in.

“You see with the storm coming, folks haven’t been checkin’ out. I couldn’t kick them out without a plan on Christmas. And with the planes grounded, I didn’t think anyone else would be coming in.”

At the mention of anyone else Buttercup turned completely to the red couch just behind her, another guest with a long black coat and red cap. If there had been any surprise he had since collected himself and left Buttercup alone to flounder.

Brick. Rowdyruff Brick was sitting with crossed arms staring her down. Of course the only two people with super powers had braved the storm and made it up to the mountain.

“Well darlin, you see, we have one cabin left.”

“So you gave it to him?” Buttercup asked with a snap, eyes still on Brick. If there was anything a Ruff could manage to take from a Puff it was their happiness. Buttercup’s one holiday she’d given herself. The chance to be without ridicule and out from under a microscope, the only one single and alone—her perfectly planned cottage get away. Stolen.

“No.” Brick answered for her. “She wanted to be sure no one was coming.”

“Goodness gracious,” The woman fanned her face despite the chill. She’d said it like a swear and the tone had Buttercup turning her back on Brick. Somehow she suspected this woman rarely swore and her meltdown would be a bigger threat than Brick.

“Hey, Ma’am its—”

“We know each other,” Brick cut in. He stood shoulder to shoulder with Buttercup, a visual representation to calm the ailed woman. “We can split it.”

“What?” The hostess and Buttercup asked together.

“But she’s,” a she, the woman might have said.

“I can handle myself lady.” Buttercup stomped out the fear without batting an eye. The point of this vacation was to be alone, right? If Brick had come this far away from Townsville it had to be no different than her.

“Is that alright?” Her cheeks were less fire engine emergency and more Jack Frost had nipped at her cheeks. Buttercup made fists in her pockets and damned the will of the people.

“That’ll be just fine.” Hardly. “Brick is a real gentleman. Righty Bricky?” She had been queuing up for a pack mule joke, but he had already shouldered her bag and taken the key from the Mrs. Klaus look alike.

“Oh dearie, take this. You’ll need all the extra you can get.” She hoisted a bundle of logs with both hands, Brick took it with one. “Oh, goodness and why don’t you take this on the house. For the trouble. We normally host a Christmas party, a little raffle.” She gifted Buttercup with a blanketed basket.

With the way Mrs. Klaus had been apologizing, Buttercup had been expecting the worst pick of the lot. Brick, drove their rented car slower than she’d ever seen him move up the twisted Mountain Road. It was farther than the other cabins. Brick gestured to the crude map that had come with the key.

“The Christmas Cottage. Really.” Buttercup snickered and noted the ghost of a smirk on Brick.

“What do you expect? I booked the one on Rudolph road.”

“I thought Snowflake Lane was winter themed.” It had been the cheapest of the bunch and even for her fake trips, Buttercup had kept to a budget.

The outside was small, decorated modestly with lighted candy canes noting the start of the long driveway up to the cottage. They framed the walkway up to the door, keeping its guest on path. This far up the mountain and back into the wood, the snow had piled on high and thick. The candy canes barely had any light to them under the grey sky and hidden under blankets of snow.

The chill was enough to have Brick and Buttercup moving quick. Neither dawdled over their situation and wanted to get in the cabin and warm themselves up. Brick fumbled with his things and the keys, he barely stepped in before back tracking to the car. He had thought a little deeper into the lodging, bringing multiple cooking supplies where Buttercup had a bag of goods to make pancakes, cookies, sausage, eggs, popcorn and frozen pizza. She thought about dining out one of the nights, she hadn’t thought about that being weather considering. Weather had played a very small part in her fantasy get away.

Of course Brick had considered everything. Buttercup hung in the doorway, Brick maneuvering around her to set down the large yeti cooler. He shut the door behind them,

“It’s warm.” He held out a palm. Buttercup kept hers tucked under her armpits. Her breathe wasn’t visible in the cabin and the chill closed behind them she thought anything might feel warm.

“Stomp off the snow and kick off your shoes.”

“I know how snow works,” Buttercup chirped and carefully undid the laces. As much as she loved the new kicks it was a relief to be out of them. The backs of her ankles were no stronger than anyone else’s when it came to breaking in new boots. She floated above the wood flooring to the cream colored carpeting.

Brick turned on every light as he walked, carrying the cooler to the kitchenette first. Buttercup couldn’t believe her own gasp.

The sharp ‘what’ died gently when he saw just what the switch had turned on. Every eve above the head was wrapped in white lights, the door frames lined with lighted garland and a tree just in front of the balcony, across from the dark fireplace. Blossom was a master interior designer, but Buttercup had never oo’ed and aw’ed like this before. It was a scene out of a movie, she was staring at a real life Christmas card. A red plush blanket tossed over the couch. Matching mugs on the wooden coffee table, Mr. and Mrs.

“Oh shit,” Buttercup held one up, a packaged cocoa nestled neatly inside. “I guess this is why she sorry.”

“Honeymoon suite.” Brick agreed and held up a bottle of champagne. “Oh. And there’s cake.” He read the card,

“A small wedding cake for the lovely Mr. and Mrs. Rudolph.”

“You’re shitting me,” Buttercup floated behind him. The damn thing was even decorated with the two reindeer. Either the couple would have hated or loved this. Likely loved it considering their location of choice.

“Well. Mr. Rudolph. We have cake.” Buttercup had no shame. Free wedding cake? She’d take the name if it came with a prize.

“I bet there are more surprises, Mrs. Rudolph.” His joke knocked a grin onto her face. Brick was snide and snarky. His remarks could cut as deep as his fist could punch. Something said without it being at the expense of any person was a bit of a surprise.

“Should we see what else the happy couple left four our honeymoon?”

“Wouldn’t that be stealing?”

“We’re helping them not be wasteful. Come on.”

“Go on, I’m going to start the fire.”

“Oh because that’s such a challenge for you.” Buttercup reached, her nail dragged from his collar bone and over Brick’s adam’s apple. Her sister was an ice breather and he had a belly of fire.

“I don’t need to use shit to start a fire.”

“Uh-huh, I’m sure you can.” Buttercup batted her eyes and walked down the hall, “I’ll turn up the heater. Don’t want to freeze out.”

Buttercup didn’t really doubt the resourcefulness of the other. The boys had lived on their own, who knows what tricks each of them had picked up to sustain themselves. The banter was just another dialect, part of Buttercup’s language. A natural problem starter and shit stirrer.

#manawrites #powerpuff girls #rowdyruff boys #buttercup #brick x buttercup #holiday fic #WIP #I NEED MOTIVATION TO FINISH THIS UUGGHHH...i have so much planned for this lil thing...i'm just blah in a writing rut per usual lol

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writethehousedown · 4 years

Text

Here Comes the Sun 1/7 (Branjie) -- athena2

A/N: Hi, I was really excited to write this little fic! It’s literally all fluff because I’ve been self-isolating for weeks and I just wanted fluff. Thank you so much to Writ for beta-ing and supporting this whole idea. I hope you enjoy! Title from Here Comes the Sun by the Beatles.

Summary: Brooke and Vanessa are two kindergarten teachers crushing on each other when a shared umbrella might help love bloom.

Day 1: Storm

It’s the rainiest spring on record, and Brooke Lynn Hytes has had it.

There’s been all kinds of rain as March blurred into April: cold rain that plunked on her neck and drizzled down her back and left her teeth chattering all day; light sunshowers that distracted her kindergarteners and left them confused over the mix of sun and rain; a misting rain too light to justify an umbrella but enough to annoy her and ruin her hair. And today’s rain: a howling, window-rattling thunderstorm where rain hurled down from the sky and soaked you to the bone with or without an umbrella.

And Brooke just happened to be without hers, so busy stopping the cats from jumping across the living room like they were completing an obstacle course that she forgot to grab it.

Brooke flinches as thunder rumbles outside. She’s disliked thunderstorms since she was a kid. Sometimes they would knock out the power lines, and the darkness scared her even more. She’d hide under her covers with an army of stuffed animals to protect her from the storm she was sure would explode through the windows and pull her in.

But she’s a grown woman now, and she can’t very well hide in bed and call in sick over a thunderstorm.

With a deep breath, she emerges from the dry warmth of her car and runs for the back entrance of the school, holding her rain jacket closed as wind tugs at it, whipping her hair around and soaking her legs with chilly rain. The door feels farther with each step, each raindrop that pelts her face.

“Hey, Brooke!” a gruff voice calls, loud enough to be heard over the howling rain.

Oh no.

Of all the teachers who could see Brooke looking like a drowned rat, why did it have to be Vanessa? Vanessa, the most popular teacher in school, always happy and energetic and exciting—she once wore bunny ears and launched jelly beans into the teacher’s lounge before spring break—with a class of respectful and kind kids who showered her in holiday gifts each year, even after they graduated kindergarten. Vanessa, with her bright crafts lighting up the hallways and the kind smiles she gives Brooke every day at lunch and her rosy cheeks and warm brown eyes.

“Um, hi, Vanessa.” Brooke always feels special using Vanessa’s first name, like she has some secret power over everyone so used to calling her Ms. Mateo. She wonders if Vanessa likes when Brooke uses it, if it feels as special to her as it does when Vanessa calls her Brooke.

“I got an umbrella, if you wanna share,” Vanessa offers. “You’re soaked.”

“Oh, um, thank you.” Brooke’s not the best at asking for or accepting help, so used to her independence. But she’s already drenched, and Vanessa’s umbrella is just inches away, and Brooke nods.

“You’ll have to hold it, though,” Vanessa says with an adorable laugh that makes Brooke’s heart flutter. “I’m too short to make it cover both of us.” Vanessa is short, tiny enough for Brooke to scoop up and carry, something she’s thought about more than she cares to admit.

Brooke smiles, accepting the handle of the bright flowered umbrella and lifting it over them both, grateful for a respite from the rain pounding on her head.

They’re almost to the door when thunder booms through the sky, clapping in Brooke’s ears. She jumps at the noise, jostling the umbrella and bumping shoulders with Vanessa. “S-sorry,” Brooke grits out. “I’m just–”

“Not a fan of thunderstorms?” Vanessa guesses kindly.

“Not really,” Brooke admits. At least Vanessa can’t see her blushing in the rain, but Vanessa doesn’t seem to mind that Brooke is afraid of thunderstorms. It’s not surprising, really. Vanessa is always quick to discourage bullying of any kind, helping her class be empathetic to others. She’s too nice to ever think less of Brooke for that. They finally reach the door, plastered with posters for the school’s annual carnation sale next week, and she ushers Vanessa inside.

“Wanna warm up in my classroom? I got the best heat in the school,” Vanessa says.

The heat in Vanessa’s room is legendary. For whatever reason, her room has three heating vents instead of two, and teachers and students alike clambered inside to soak up some warmth during the frigid, finger-numbing winters. Aside from the heat, Vanessa always has crafts in all the colors of the rainbow hanging on her walls, plus a class guinea pig named Bertha who loved having people pet her.

Besides, Brooke has time before her class arrives, and her knees are shaking from the cold. A little warmth can’t hurt, not to mention some time with Vanessa. The idea alone makes her stomach flutter like a pack of butterflies let loose. Brooke just hopes she can think of something interesting to say, because even though she’s been working with Vanessa for two years and has wanted to say more, Brooke never had the nerve or the words for more than small talk.

Vanessa’s room is done up in an ‘April showers bring May flowers’ theme–Brooke hopes something good might at least come from all this rain–with dark blue raindrops covering half the wall and construction-paper flowers in bright reds, oranges, yellows, and pinks on the other half.

The heating vent in the corner is huge, and Brooke lets the warmth blast at her damp black skirt and cold legs while Vanessa dumps her bag at her desk.

Brooke can’t resist peeking at Vanessa’s desk. It’s much messier than Brooke’s, but it seems to be an organized chaos, markers and pens and papers strewn about almost intentionally. A tiny bi pride flag peeks out from Vanessa’s Pikachu mug, making Brooke wish for the courage to put a little lesbian flag on her own desk.

“How’s Bertha doing?” Brooke asks.

“She’s good. She’ll be having her babies any day now. I’ve been taking her home just in case she has them at night.”

“Oh, that’s right. I forgot she was pregnant.”

Vanessa nods. “I brought her to a shelter while I was away for winter break. She found herself a man that knocked her up and then went back to his family. Typical, if you ask me.”

Brooke snorts. Vanessa slides up next to her, red sweater brushing Brooke’s white button down. “You want to hold her?”

“You don’t mind?”

“Nah. I don’t have to worry about you holding her like I do with my kids. One of them tried to reenact The Lion King with her.” Vanessa leads her to the cage, where Bertha squeaks happily. Vanessa eases the ball of brown and white fluff into Brooke’s hands, their fingers brushing against each other, sending a jolt of heat through Brooke’s arm.

She pets Bertha’s head, Vanessa slipping in close to pet her back, so close Brooke can hardly breathe. She can see the gleam in Vanessa’s eyes and the precise edge of the eyeliner Vanessa expertly applied, can smell the coconut shampoo she uses permeating her hair, frizzy from rain water on the top.

The warning bell sounds, signaling that the teachers have 15 minutes before collecting their students from where they congregate in the gym.

“Guess I better get going,” Brooke says.

“Guess so.” It might be Brooke’s imagination, but Vanessa sounds equally sad to say goodbye to her.

Vanessa nestles Bertha back in her cage and Brooke starts to leave.

“Hey, Brooke?”

“Yeah?”

“Why don’t you take my umbrella.” Vanessa extends it to her. “It’s supposed to rain all day. You’ll need it later.”

“Are you sure?”

Vanessa nods. “No big deal. I got an extra, and I’ll see you tomorrow anyway.”

“Thank you, Vanessa. Really.” Brooke’s whole body is warm at Vanessa offering her the umbrella, and though she wants to protest, tell Vanessa to keep it, Brooke accepts. Because that way, she has a reason to talk to Vanessa tomorrow.

#rpdr fanfiction #branjie #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #athena2 #here comes the sun #lesbian au #fluff #concrit welcome #spring fling 2020 #day 1: storm #submission

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hpdabbles · 4 years

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Kindness and Remorse Part 4

“Harry, did you finish your homework?” Dudley asks while placing a plate of white eggs and extra crispy bacon- just the way Harry likes them- before his cousin. His parents have yet to wake, but that would change in half an hour or so. They always wake at seven-thirty, jump in the shower, come down for breakfast and then rush everyone into the car so they could drop off the boys at school and get to work.

Petunia takes a little longer to put on her make-up and iron out the wrinkles in Vernon’s suit jacket and her business skirt.

“Yes Ley, I did,” Harry said rolling his eyes fondly. He patted the star theme backpack near his feet. “I even put it in my bag and everything.”

“You mock my worry but I remember someone forgot his math packet in his room the day it was due not too long ago. Which was half the class grade.” He’s still sleeping in the smallest room and the cupboard is only used for storage now. As it should be

“You’re forgetful once and you never live it down.”

“Ha ha. Eat up. Mother and Father will be down soon.”

Harry grin at him before digging into his food, taking his time but not without taking a glance at the clock. Dudley knew he did it every morning just to assure himself that he had time to actually enjoy his meal.

Not that he had to worry. The youngest Dursley always woke before anyone in the house, exactly one hour before his parents and thirty minutes before his cousin.

This is enough time to make sure Harry has a balanced breakfast and make sure his cousin could do any homework he’s not been able to complete. His parents still tried to sabotage his grades, so the kids had to get creative to not allow him to fall behind.

Thanks to this system, the pair of cousins were one of the best in their class. Not the top but definitely in the top ten at the least.

It’s the only reason Dudley could force himself out of bed at six-thirty every school morning when he had never been a morning person in any of his lifetimes.

“Can we have chocolate chip drop scones tomorrow?” Harry asked around his egg.

“Sure. Mother has an event coming up soon so she won’t mind something sweet. Don’t talk with your mouth full.”

“Sorry.”

“What did I just say?”

Harry giggles but mines zipping his mouth closed after stuffing a forkful of eggs into it.

Dudley is glad he was able to convince his mother to join the Neighborhood Council two years ago. It took longer then he liked for Petunia to see the light but it got her out of the house and helped her husband make powerful connections. It also finally let her use that degree of business that she let rot away the first life-time.

Yes, it was only four times out of the week- longer closer to holidays or special events- and the pay wasn’t something to survive on but it gave her a purpose. Vernon was especially proud of her whenever she spearheaded events, always bragging that his wife was the perfect woman to anyone that was close enough.

She takes so much pride in her work and was actually good at it which surprised him greatly. If there was one thing Petunia liked more then winning the Homeowner's Garden Award it was organizing it.

Not to mention the charity events she put together. Oh, but how she glowed under the praise she earns at the number of successes she was brought in for those events.

It also meant she wasn’t around the house yelling at Harry all the time. For those four days, Monday to Thursday, she would have the neighbor Ms. Figg watch the boys as she didn’t get home until seven pm at the same time her husband did.

Dudley was able to convince the adults to have her babysit them in his house, claiming the cats made him feel funny- which was true. Something about her animals made his skin stand on end and even become somewhat itchy. His parents had taken him to a doctor but oddly enough he had not developed allergies.

Ms. Figg’s cats were the only ones he was effected by and he learned to avoid them as best he could. Thanks to the redness upon his skin he’s parents haven’t pushed for him spending too much time over the fence. By proxy neither did Harry.

Since his parents both worked, Dudley took it upon himself to start helping around the house without being prompted. This not only earns his parent’s adoration but also lessens the workload on Harry.

They couldn’t expect him to clean something Dudley had already done so himself. Now the chores were evenly split between them, and when his parents weren’t around, he asked Harry to switch duties per week. This way no one was stuck doing the hard ones all the time.

After all, it is better to ask for forgiveness than permission. Not that he liked cleaning the loo but someone had to do it, even if it was only biweekly his turn.

One chore he refused to trade however was cooking. Dudley didn’t care that he was the same physical age, Harry was much too young to be near the stove. He was too young when he was four and he’s still too young at age ten.

He had to throw fits every once in a while but over time the kitchen became his domain. Dudley cooked breakfast, lunch, and dinners, spending too many hours before the telly watching those cooking channels with a notebook and pen. At least he can say his food was actually tasty.

Life skills, his name is Dudley Dursleys, and he is owning you now.

His passion for the culinary arts was part making-sure-they-don’t-starve-my-cousin and part Hey-this-is-actually-fun. Harry has been his very happy guinea pig.

He’s going to miss the little guy.

Only a few months left. Dudley thinks while turning the egg meant for his father in the pan Soon Harry will be getting his letter and he’ll be off to Hogwarts, where someone else will make sure he’s eating.

Trying not to let the thought bring him down, the time-traveler takes a deep breath through his nose. Mentally chanting It’s fine. It’s fine. It’s fine. He prepares his own plate after making sure his parents’ were done. He joins Harry at the table and stares at him.

The last four years have been better for his cousin. He’s still tiny but thankfully not overly so. Maybe a few inches shorter then Dudley now instead of the head height difference of before. The clothes they wear are almost the same size, with Dudley’s build being a bit bigger compared to Harry’s naturally lean body.

Over the years Dudley took notice of Harry’s preference in clothing making sure to buy them before “getting bored” of the shirts or jeans after one wear or two. It was the closest he could get Harry to new clothes. The backpack Harry used was one he saw him staring at in the store and bullied his father into buying, then a week later bullied his mother into buying the plain black one he used.

Dudley thinks Harry caught on to this years ago but his cousin has yet to say anything about it. Sometimes, he forgets just how clever and aware of his surroundings Harry really is.

His glasses, on the other hand, were a problem Dudley couldn’t get fixed without getting into a screaming match with his parents. Which he did. But it had no effect.

He tries as much as he can but some things he can’t make better. His cousin already knows his Aunt and Uncle don’t love him despite the amount of affection and care they shower onto their son.

He claims it doesn’t bother him, but that leaves mental scars.

It’s still emotional abuse.

“What?” Harry asks raising a brow. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

“No reason,” Dudley says blinking his eyes dry.

“I think there is. You don’t just stare at someone like that for no reason.” Harry glances around before lowering his voice into a near whisper “Did I do something, you know, weird again?”

Dudley tries for a smile. He lowers his own voice, not wanting his parents to hear him even if he knows their alarm clocks haven’t gone off yet. “No. You didn’t do any accidental magic. I think that only happens when your emotions are out of control, or you focus hard enough. And don’t call it weird. It’s not. It’s a gift.”

“I don’t know Ley.” Harry waves his fork a little, having developed the habit of speaking with his hands after seeing Dudley do the same over the years. “This doesn’t feel like a gift when I make papers flout every time I hum or when I end up on the roof trying to play a game of tag with Piers.”

“It’s just that you don’t know how to control it yet. Trust me, it’s perfectly normal.”

“Oh yeah? Name one person who can do what I can.” Harry challenges him.

Fumbling for names and then realizing he’s not supposed to know these people yet, the de-age male scrambles to save his cousin’s feelings. “Um, well maybe we don’t know they can do it, but there has to be-”

“You see! I’m a freak!”

“Don’t say that! You are not a freak! You’re just doing magic, and it’s by accident. You can’t help it.”

Harry bites his lower lip, glaring into his plate before he deflates. “I just wish I didn’t have magic. We don’t even know if it is magic, maybe it’s something sinister.”

“It’s not,” Dudley says firmly. “It’s magic. I know it.”

“How can you be so sure? You read it in one of your books?”

“Yes.”

Harry eyes him a little longer before shrugging his shoulder. While doing so there is a hum in the air right before Dudley’s eggs explode into his face.

A startled gasp rings through the room seconds after the food splats onto his skin. “Ley, I’m so so sorry. I’m so stupid. I didn’t mean-I swear I didn’t think it would- I’m sorry!”

Laughing Dudley waves away his worries wiping his face with a napkin. “Oh don’t worry. Josh used to do this all the time.”

“Who’s Josh?”

“What?”

“You said Josh threw food into your face. Who is he? Is he bullying you?” Harry looks downright murderous at the mere notion that anyone would dare. It’s quite touching.

Harry has taken to being his defender against their school mates and while doing so earn their scorn all over again. Piers is the only other little boy he’s on friendly terms with. Sadly they were more acquaintances than friends since Piers did not want to gain the other kid's disproval for being too nice to Harry and his lame nerdy cousin.

Since coming back to the past Dudley had gone from ruling the playground to being the kids’ favorite target instead. He doesn’t mind it too much, after all the insults they think sting is more adorable then painful and he finds that being the outsider gives him more time to read. He’s too mature for their taste, too odd with his boredom of games, love of the library, perfect manners, and chubby body.

He’s not fat, but he’s not thin either. To the kids in his classroom, the difference means nothing.

School is a nightmare but this is mostly due to him being bored and if there is one thing he can’t wait for when Harry leaves for Hogwarts it finally being able to show his “bright” mind. Hopefully allowing him to finish his education quicker before he goes completely mad.

There are only so many “How many apples do you have if you give five away in groups of two” a man can take.

“Don’t worry about it, Harry. Really, I’m fine.” He says smiling widely. His cousin doesn’t look mollified, opening his mouth to no doubt demand more information on Josh.

Looking at the clock, he claps his hands before his cousins can insist. “Mother and Father will be up in ten minutes. Hush up, and eat your food.”

After a beat of silence, his cousin does as he’s told though he seems displeased. This means that Harry will be glue to his side for the rest of the day in hopes of seeing Josh and stoping him from bullying Dudley.

I’m really going to miss you, you little angel. Duddley thinks fondly. I’m going to miss you so much.

An alarm clock goes off over their heads. Another day has officially begun.

“Popkins, darling, can you make Mama a cup of coffee?” Petunia calls down the stairs her voice laced with drowsiness.

“Yes, Mother.” He yells back just as Harry finishes off his plate. The two clear the table, sticking the dishes into the sink, and Dudley pours his mother her coffee. He eyes the pile he needs to wash after school today, sighing to see that the dishes have somehow doubled since the last time he looked.

His mother pads down the stairs in her bathrobe, the shower starting to go as his father gets ready. This means he’ll be down in ten since he got to the washroom first.

“Good morning Popkins!” Petunia says with a bright smile, rushing towards him with a hug and kiss. Dudley side steps the full hug, turning it into an awkward one-handed embarrassed. He can’t dodge her kiss sadly.

“Morning Mother. Your food is ready.”

“Thank you, love. It looks so tasty!”

Harry slips into the background, throwing a look of envy at them before disappearing into the living room. Dudley bites back a grimace.

These are one of the mental scars he’s worried about. What if Harry and he end up like Mother and Auntie Lily? Friends in their youth but turn bitter by jealousy, and their relationship broken beyond repair well into their lives.

He can’t do anything about it. He can only hope.

Dudley tries his best to ignore the lead sitting in the pit of his stomach as he places the plates on the table for his parents. He grabs his black backpack, and follows Harry into the living room, switching the telly on for some morning cartoons before school.

Harry offers him a smile when he stops on his favorite channel.

________________________________________________________________

The school year ends more rapidly then he thought possible. Before he realizes it sumer break is upon him. He eyes the calander staring at his birthday knowing that around this time Harry will be reciveing his letter. He doens’t know what to do with himself.

Over the years he prepared for the day Harry would go join his world again. It’s harder, however, then it was for when Daisy left. Maybe it was because, for her, he had to accept it as it was happening while Harry has an actual date.

Or maybe it’s because with Daisy she arrived in peace times. Harry would not only be joining the wizardly world, but he will also be joining a war. It kills him to think he’s going to allow the boy to walk into a battlefield without being about to do anything.

Hell, Dudley can’t even warn him about anything. He’s not part of that world. He never will be.

Dudley didn’t know anything about the Second Wizarding War. The Harry of the future never spoke of his school days, his friends just as tight-lipped about it. Most of them didn’t like him enough to have a conversation.

George Weasley couldn’t even stand being in the same room as he. Once the older man had cornered him to hiss. “I was old enough to remember and understand what you put him through. Don’t think I’ll ever forget the day my brothers and I had to rescue him from your house, even if Harry does.”

George then spat at him leaving Dudley stun in the corner of the party wondering if he could gather his kids and run like he wanted to. He didn’t blame him. Instead, he thought it was nice Harry had in-laws who cared so much for him.

This memory does nothing to make him feel better about the war Harry would soon be apart of. Heavens it felt like he was sending his child to the front lines.

There were books based on these years of course but Dudley only had to open to the first page to realize they were rubbish.

The author had thought Harry was raised fighting dragons, rushing on some daring adventures with lavished mansions and wealth ever since defeating the Dark Lord the first time. It had made him sick.

Wizards and Witches read books of Harry having the best life a young wizard could only dream of having, his fame sky-rocking with each and every ridiculous fantasy in his book series while his cousin was starved and abuse.

How could he then, trust those books on the retelling of Harry’s Hogwarts days? I mean fighting a troll, finding the Chambers of secrets and sleeping with the entire Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff Quidditch teams all before he was seventeen? Honestly who came up with such dumb ideas. Did the writers just pulled out papers from a hat, and slapped the name Harry Potter onto it to make it about his cousin?

“Ley, we’re going to the zoo for your birthday tomorrow! Aren’t you excited?” Harry appears at his door, clad in his pajamas startling the blond from his mental ranting.

Harry is all but jumping in place, obviously won’t be able to sleep tonight until much later. He always comes to wish Dudley a good night before bed however so here he is.

“I’m very excited.” Dudley tries.

“You don’t sound it. What’s wrong?”

“...I had a nightmare.” He settles lamely unable to explain the anxiety coursing through his body. Suddenly his bed shakes and flies into the ceiling with a swirl of silver sparkles.

“Son!? What was that!?” Vernon screams from down the hall.

“Nothing Father, I just was jumping on my bed!” He calls back “Everything’s fine!”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes! Really don’t get up. Everything fine!”

“I’m sorry,” Harry whispers looking pained at the disrupted bedding. Luckily Dudley’s bed frame seems to be intact. “I don’t know why but it’s been getting worse lately.”

This is true. Lately, Harry’s magic has been acting up more than he thought was normal. Just today he somehow managed to burst three-light bolts, have one of Ms. Figg’s inflate like a balloon luckily out of her sight, and had their dinner exploded.

Dudley had no idea why either. Neither Daisy or Josh was like this.

“It’s okay Harry.” He reassures not liking the way his cousin is curling his fingers into his shirt. “This is just a reaction to your emotions. Just try to stay calm alright? Nothing bad happened. Everything is fine.”

“If you say so. I’m still sorry. I don’t mean to.”

“I know. I promise. It’s okay.”

There is a long pause while the boys put the bed back as best they can neither sure how to point out that Harry’s magic is getting stronger and stronger with each passing day.

“Want to sleep in here with me? I don’t want to be alone after my nightmare anyway.” Dudley asks once everything is settle again.

Bright green eyes still look unsure but his cousin nods. They have been sharing a bed for years now as Harry couldn’t crawl into his uncle and aunts bed after a nightmare, Dudley took it upon himself to be the one he could turn to during the darkest of nights.

They wake up before his parents meaning the adults are none the wiser. Just as they weren’t aware of all of the accident magic going on in their home. Both agreeing the adults wouldn’t understand.

After Harry crawls under the blankets and the lights go off. Dudley can only hope they can keep the accidental magic a secret for a few more weeks more. Just until Harry can get the proper help he needs with his magic and he won’t have so many outbursts.

“Goodnight Harry.”

“Goodnight Ley.”

Dudley doesn’t even remember the zoo too much, other than Harry hissing at the snakes -honestly why?- and the fact that all the glass of the reptile house faded away causing mayhem of terror as everything got out, it was a dull event.

No, what really shocked and terrified him, was the day Harry’s Hogwarts acceptance letter arrived in the post. Dudley always got the mail once he finishes cooking breakfast so he was the first one to see the letter.

Along with another copy address to him.

“Well, Fuck me.”

#hpdabbles #Harry Potter #Kindness and Remorse Au #Part 4 #wizard!dudley #accidental magic #So everytime Dudley did some accidental magic he was standing next to Harry

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67-chevy-baby · 5 years

Text

Ugly Sweaters and Traditions

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Tags: FLUFFFFF, self-doubt, language, a smidge of angst, and I think that’s it!

Beta: @winecatsandpizza

Word Count: 3.1k

Written for: @kittenofdoomage Kitten’s Canon Christmas Challenge

Prompt 24: Mistletoe

Square Filled - Mistletoe for @spnaubingo 2018

“Hey Y/N, Hey Dean.”

Sam waltzed into the Bunker’s library with a spring in his step that had both you and his elder brother flashing him questionable looks. He took a seat at the head of the table, opening his laptop in front of him. Dean raised an eyebrow at you and you shrugged, letting him know that you too had no idea what was going on either.

“What’s up with you, Sammy?

Sam peeked over the top of his laptop at you and his brother before going back to typing.

“Yeah, you’re uh… oddly happy today….”

The younger Winchester rolled his eyes and cleared his throat.

“So, get this! I think I found us a case!”

That got Dean’s attention, a smile lighting up his face as he tipped the neck of his beer towards him.

“Atta boy, Sammy! I knew it was only a matter of time before we’d get back to the grind. What about you, Y/N? You excited to gank somethin’ or what?”

You smiled and got up to go stand behind Sam. He had an article pulled up, and it looked to be about a Christmas tree farm. Dean had since joined you, his brows furrowing as he took another swig of his drink.

“Uhh, Sam, I’m thrilled you wanna get back out there but don’t ya think this is just a case of some teenage punks or somethin’?”

Sam turned to give his brother his best bitch face, but you weren’t tuned into that. Even as they argued, you scanned the article getting more intrigued by the second. Once you realized that Sam had a case, you turned excitedly to Dean.

“Hey, Dean!”

He held up a finger indicating that you wait a moment, and you tapped your foot impatiently.

“Dean! Would you ju-”

He sighed heavily and turned to you, clearly annoyed.

“Y/N, I can only argue with one person at a time, and right now it’s Sam’s turn.”

He turned back to Sam before you could respond. Well, they may have been fighting like an old married couple, but you were used to it considering you grew up with two older brothers. Placing your index and middle fingers into your mouth, you let out an ear-splitting whistle taking them both by surprise.

“Hey! Rocky and Bullwinkle! Quit bickering for a second and hear me out would ya?!”

Sam ran a hand through his hair, still clearly annoyed with his older brother, while Dean dug a finger into his ear moving it around vigorously.

“Now that I have your undivided attention, Dean, I think I am going to have to go with Sam on this one. It does, in fact, look like there’s a case here.”

You didn’t miss the smug ‘I told you so’ look Sam shot Dean, but instead of commenting on it, you decided to continue explaining.

“I scanned through the article, and it looks like over half of the tree farm is plagued with dead trees. At first, I was thinking some kid threw a lit cigarette or something and caused the whole lot to go up in flames. Then, I had another thought. Remember how Rowena stole the Book of the Damned? What if she’s using the book to draw on some bad mojo to build a coven or something? I mean, it's worth checking out. If it's nothing, then all we've lost is some gas and we got to have a good ole fashion road trip,”

You smiled, crossing your arms and stretching your legs onto the table.

“Yeah, we've never had any of those,”

Dean mumbled as he rolled his eyes.

Standing up, Sam made the final call,

“So it's settled. We leave at dawn.”

The rest of the day was a whole lot of cleaning weapons and packing bags. Even though keeping the guns clean was tedious, it still was exciting that you would get to hunt with your favorite hunters again. If you were being at all honest with yourself, you were most excited to see Dean in action again. The passion he exuded lit a fire inside you that had yet to be extinguished. You’d had a thing for him the moment your eyes locked with his green ones. Of course, you couldn’t tell him. He would most certainly reject you, and more importantly, you didn’t want to make things weird. Sighing, you zipped your duffel bag and set it next to your bedroom door before crawling beneath your covers.

A few hours later your alarm went off making you groan. No matter how many hunts you went on you’d never become a morning person. Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you got up and pulled on a pair of jeans. You paid a black cami with a red and white flannel before stepping into your combat boots. Instead of taking the time to brush your hair, you decided just to half-ass it by running your fingers through it. It was bound to get ratty before long anyway and it wasn't like you were trying to impress anyone or anything.

You walked into the Bunker’s garage just as Dean was stuffing his bag into Baby’s trunk.

“Morning, Dean. Mind if I grab some coffee before we head out? I’m gonna need something if we’re gonna take on that red-headed annoyance today.”

Right on cue, Sam came out with three to-go mugs filled to the brim with your favorite brew.

“Did someone say they needed some fuel?”

You took one of the cups from him and relished in the warmth flowing through your hands before taking a small sip.

“Oh god, this is better than sex, I swear.”

Sam nodded in agreeance as he slid in the passenger seat. Dean opened the back door for you and you smiled warmly.

“Y/N, if you think that’s better than sex, then you’ve clearly never been with a man.”

He winked at you as you rolled your eyes.

“Whatever, Winchester. Let’s get going, times a-wastin.'”

A couple hours later, Dean pulled the Impala into a deserted parking lot. He killed the engine and the three of you walked to the front door of the little shop. A bell on the door chimed as you walked in, the shop owner looked up surprised before setting his newspaper down.

“Hello there folks! I’m sorry to disappoint you, but we’ve kind of stopped business until further notice. There’s been a mishap with our trees.”

Dean nonchalantly walked around the little store looking at the different Christmas themed gifts. Sam took the other half of the store, making sure to check for hex bags without looking too suspicious. That left you to question the owner.

“What kind of mishap, sir?”

The man scratched his head and reached for a manila folder.

“Well, something weird has been happening to our trees. I think it’s some kind of superbug or something because I don’t know what insect can survive in this weather. It’s killing our trees, and until we can figure it out, we can’t sell any more live ones.”

He passed you the photos as he continued to talk.

“So far, half of the lot is either dead or dying. I’m afraid we’ll be put out of business before long.”

Christmas was your favorite time of year, and you’d never had a real tree. You longed for one, but your parents never wanted to put up with the mess. It pained you to see that this man was about to lose everything he worked so hard for, and possibly at the hands of Rowena of all people.

“Listen, sir, we’re members of the Grand Spruce Christmas Tree club and I think we can help you save your trees.”

The man looked hopeful and let out a relieving laugh.

“You really think you can help? Oh, that would be awesome! Oh! How rude of me, I didn’t introduce myself! My name is Wayne. Wayne Hargrove, and you are?”

He held out his hand to you, and you grasped it firmly.

“My name is Y/N Y/L/N, and these are my partners Sam and Dean Winchester.”

You pointed each of them out and they waved awkwardly. The four of you headed to the back part of the property where the trees were kept. As soon as they came into view you could see the damage. Nearly half of the lot was littered with tree needles, the branches dried up and pathetic looking. Your heart clenched as you looked at Wayne’s sad expression. You could tell he took pride in his business, and you were determined to get to the bottom of things.

“Well, folks, here it is. I looked at all the trees and couldn’t find the culprit. I’m hoping you guys will have better luck seeing as you’re experts on this sort of thing. At least, that’s what Y/N told me.”

The brothers gave you a surprised look making you laugh nervously.

“Yep! We uh… we’ll take a look and come back with what we find.”

Wayne walked away as Dean narrowed his eyes at you.

“What the hell was that, Y/N?!”

“Oh cool it, Dean!”

You spat right back to him without missing a beat. Sam put his hands between you two, trying his best to be a mediator.

“Calm down, the both of you. Look, let’s just split up and try to find the solution. Fighting is going to get us nowhere.”

You huffed and took your pistol out of the back of your jeans. Racking it back making one of the rounds to fill the chamber, you raised an eyebrow.

“I know what I’m doing, Dean. Believe me, this isn’t my first rodeo.”

You walked away before he could say anything, leaving him fuming. Sam patted his older brother on his shoulder trying his best to calm him down.

“Listen, Dean. She’s trying okay. You gotta trust that she knows what she’s doing. I mean, the training wheels gotta come off some time, man.”

Dean seemed to relax a little, but the anger was still in his voice as he walked in the opposite direction that you’d gone.

“Yeah, well, if something happens to her Sammy then it’s on me.”

Sam rubbed his temples and sighed before walking down the middle of one of the dead tree patches. Everyone had loaded their guns with witch killing bullets as a precautionary measure. Dean and his signature M1911A1 with the ivory grips, Sam with a black sawed-off shotgun, and you with your 9mm Beretta.

At first, nothing out of the ordinary stood out. The only thing that could be heard was the occasional stick breaking or a bird chirping. Sam texted you saying neither he or Dean found anything. You were about to text back saying the same, but something stopped you. Looking up, you saw a circular cluster of odd-looking leaves nestled in the side of one of the trees. It took you a moment, but eventually, you recognized them.

“Mistletoe! That’s it!”

You texted Sam and Dean as quick as you could while reaching up to tear the branch off. Moments later the boys came jogging over to you. Confusion spread across their faces as you held the plant out to them.

“Uhh, I don’t get it.”

Dean scrunched up his nose as he passed the bundle of leaves over to Sam.

“I’m not sure what you’re wanting us to see, Y/N. This isn’t something that would be useful to a witch.”

You laughed and shook your head.

“That’s just it though. This isn’t a case. Well, it is, but it’s not our type of case. That right there is what you call mistletoe. You do know what that is right?”

Sam nodded and handed it back to you and Dean rolled his eyes before making yet another snide remark.

“Yeah, that’s the plant that Christmas freaks kiss under for their stupid traditions.”

Your eyes narrowed while Sam cleared his throat.

“Thanks for that Dean, but do you know what else it’s known for?”

They both shook their heads and you smiled, clearly excited that you’d figured this one out on your own.

“Mistletoe is also parasitic! That’s the reason Wayne’s trees are dying. The plant feeds off of other living plants, so all he would have to do is remove the affected trees and cut the infected limbs of the dying ones. Everything should be back to normal once he does that.”

The brothers stared at you like you’d grown a third eye and you shrugged. Sam was the first to speak up.

“How do you know all of this, Y/N?”

You started walking back to Wayne’s shop, Sam and Dean on either side of you.

“What can I say, plants are sort of a hobby of mine. I kind of always wanted to be Botanist when I was growing up.”

After you told Wayne what the culprit was, the three of you headed back to the Bunker. The ride home was quiet, save for the low rumble of the Impala and Metallica’s second album flowing from the speakers. Your mind went back to what Dean said about Christmas traditions. He didn’t seem all the thrilled about the holiday, and you wondered if he’d like your gifts. He’d without a doubt, like the bottle of whiskey, but you were unsure about the ugly sweater. It was red, white, and black with symbols related to Christmas on it. You’d bought Sam one too, and you were sure he’d at least wear it for the occasion.

It had been years since you’d spent this time of year with your family. You’d signed that away the moment you became a hunter. Going home for the holidays would put your loved ones in danger and you couldn’t risk doing that. The Winchesters were the closest thing you had to family now, and it was only natural to want to do these traditions with them too.

Back at the Bunker you grabbed your bag without a word and shut the door to your room. With Christmas only days away, your nerves were getting the best of you. Should you even bother giving the presents to the boys? It didn’t seem like they even celebrated, and you hadn’t asked. With a heavy sigh, you kicked your shoes off and settled under your covers.

Unbeknownst to you, Sam took notice of how Dean’s remark affected you. He pulled his brother aside as a plan began to form in his mind.

“Hey, Dean, I’ve been thinking…”

Dean smirked, taking a seat in the library once more.

“Don’t hurt yourself, Sammy.”

“Dean, I’m serious! Okay, so you know how Y/N like Christmas? I mean, I know we don’t really celebrate it, but I was thinking we could do it just this once. I know it would mean a lot to her, and I really think you would like it too.”

Dean took a long pull from his beer, propping his feet on the table.

“Sammy, I don’t know… We don’t have any decorations, a tree, and we haven’t even bought her anything.”

The younger Winchester ran a hand through his hair, walking towards the stairs.

“Where are you going, Sam?”

“I’m going to get us some decorations, Dean. We are doing this for her. She deserves it.”

A few days later, you woke up, forgetting it was Christmas morning. Without a care in the world, you padded down the hallway in your pajamas. You rounded the corner and gasped. There, next to the map table was the most beautifully decorated Christmas tree you’d ever seen. There were only a couple presents underneath it, but that didn't matter to you. Red and green garland wrapped neatly around the staircase and the smell of cookies wafted to you from the kitchen. Sam walked into the room grinning as he carried a tray filled with eggnog and Christmas treats.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

“Sam! This is amazing! Did you do all this?!”

Dean leaned against the doorway of the library and grinned at your enthusiasm.

“Not all of it, just the tree and this tray of treats. Everything else was Dean.”

“That’s right, sweetheart. I know a thing or two about decorating. Just don’t like to flaunt it, that’s all.”

You hugged each of them before remembering their gifts.

“Oh! I have presents for you! Wait here while I go and get them!”

You scurried down the hallway and grabbed the wrapped boxes, one blue and one red. Back in the map room, you set the blue one in front of Sam and the red one went to Dean. They tore them open revealing a bottle of whiskey and an ugly sweater for each of them. Sam put his on right away and enveloped you in a hug.

“I love it, Y/N! Thank you so much!”

You beamed up at him and turned to Dean expectantly.

“So, what do you think? Do you like it?”

Dean gave you a lop-sided smile and slid the sweater over his head. After adjusting it, he stood and held out his arms.

“You tell me, Y/N. How do I look?”

You looked him up and down, your arms crossed over your chest.

“You could never look bad in anything, Dean, and you know it.”

Sam handed you a present and watched you open it. It was an aroma bath set you’d been looking at when they were at one of the local department stores.

“Oh, Sam! Thank you so much! This is perfect, and I can’t wait to use it!”

Dean grasped your wrist lightly, turning you towards him. The way he was looking at you was different than he’d ever looked at you before.

“I also have something for you, Y/N.”

You nodded as he led you to the doorway of the Bunker’s library. He stopped and ran his hands down your arms making you shiver.

“Dean, I... I don’t understand... “

His finger pressed gently against your lips. You watched as he looked up, and you mirrored him. Surprise laced your features for the second time that morning. There, hanging from the top of the doorframe, was a big piece of mistletoe complete with little red berries. He smiled down at you, looking into your eyes before slowly leaning in. Your eyes closed moments before his soft lips pressed against your own. They molded perfectly with yours, sending shocks of electricity through your body.

“Finally! That has been a long time coming!”

The two of you turned to see Sam’s smug look as he poured himself a glass of eggnog. Dean kissed your temple and wrapped an arm around your waist.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N”

“Merry Christmas, Dean”

You looked up at his smiling face. This indeed was the best Christmas of your life, and you couldn’t wait to spend many more with your two favorite men.

#kitten's canon xmas challenge #spnaubingo #supernatural #sam winchester #dean winchester #dean x reader #'pala writes #'pala's masterlist

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heirs-of-prythian · 5 years

Text

5 Times Echo Wanted A Big Brother... Part 2

Here is part 2 of 6 (or 7, It depends on Tumblr being a bitch or not).

Azriel this time makes his appearance!

________________

Echo stands in her room. Hands on hips. Strands of hair are held back from her face by turquoise hair clips. She wears a green top and gray shorts with flowers stitched on it. Wings folded. A open bag lays in front of her feet. The bag already contains some things she could need for crafting.

She had a crafting date with all her cousins, except for Hemera. Because they are going to make birthday presents for Little Sun. Her birthday is in two days, on summer solstice, the longest day of the year. Hemera is turning 89 years old, which to Echo sounds old. But not as old as her parents or uncles and aunts are.

And now Art and Ari had invited everyone of the cousins except for the birthday girl to craft and make some presents for her. Which means the whole bunch would be there, Hely and Aura, Morie and Morph, Art and Ari and Cad. Echo was more than excited, Art is incredible talented when it comes to all things creative and he could definitely help her.

She actually doesn't need to bring anything. She has no doubt that Art had stocked up with everything. But she has something in mind and she needs the things in her bag for that. Probably. Just in case. Maybe she really didn't need to bring anything. Crossing her arms, the tiny Illyrian bites her upper lip between her teeth and sucks on it a little. Maybe she should just take “Asher”, her toy dog with her.

Asher is her favourite stuffed animal, he appears to be a grey Cú Faoil/Wolfhound with red eyes. She got Asher with a name already attached to it, but as a baby, she had a little trouble pronouncing the name correctly and would call it “Assa/Asha” sometimes. According to everyone, Cadan has gifted her it when she was born.

But Echo's thinking got interrupted by her father calling her. “Echo, your pickup is here!” Her pickup? Her Dad isn't going to take her to Ari? “Coming!” Curious Echo makes a quick decision and bends down to pick up Asher and goes to the front door.

Upon seeing who stands in the door, Echo brightens and she lets out a sound of delight.

Cadan! Cadan is picking her up!

He is dressed in a simple red shirt and black trousers. His shoulder long black hair is partly in a bun, keeping it out of his face. His wings aren't visible. His arms loosely on his side. He talks with her Dad.

The spiel begins.

Echo starts sprinting and jumps. Cadan had his arms already out, ready to catch her the second she started sprinting. “Hi, Little Hero!” Echo greets with a laugh, smiling at him. Cadan adjusts her a little and answer with a “Hi, Little Wonder!”, smiling back at her. Azriel meanwhile smiles with fondness at his daughter and his nephew.

“No bag?” Cadan asks her. She shakes her head.

“Just Asher. Art should have everything already, shouldn't he?”

“Smart girl!” Cad compliments her. Echo puffs her chest in pride and than giggles. “But we should get going, Little Wonder.” He adjusts her again and practically brings her into her father's waiting arms.

Echo hugs her father and then kisses his cheek. “Bye, Daddy!”

“Bye, Little Wonder. Behave and have fun.” Az tells her and presses a kiss to her forehead.

“I love you, my little wonder.”

“I love you, too, Daddy!”

Father and daughter smile lovingly at each other for a few seconds. Than Azriel gives her back to Cadan. Echo stares and frowns when her older cousin keeps her in his arms instead of setting her down.

“We’ll winnow to Ari.” Cadan answers her unanswered question, as he walks out the door. Tightening his grip on her, Cadan winnows the second they are out on the street.

Hours later and a lot of crafting later. Everybody had their presents for their oldest member of the Archeron-Night Cousins ready. After finishing up cleaning the chaos they somehow ended up making, one by one, or more like in groups, the cousins left.

The first ones to go were Morena and Morpheus. The fraternal twins, Aunt Mor's adopted children. Both are blond and have dark grey eyes, that seem black in certain lights. Despite being only fraternal twins, they do look similar to each other. Morpheus or Morph yawns into his shoulder and is leaning slightly on his older by 16 minutes sister, who is a whole head tinier than him. Morena or Morie rolls her eyes at her brother's behaviour, it makes the three scars on her face like claw marks stand out a little. Echo didn't know how she got them, only that Morie loved them and didn't want them gone. She says it makes her look badass and scary. The Twins hold their presents for Hemy in their hands. They did basically the same thing. They bought two of Hemy's favourite books and decorated them to the theme of the books. The newly covered books looked very beautiful in Echo's opinion. Hemera will love them.

The spiel begins again.

Everybody hugs the twins and says “Bye, Little Wraith!” to Morena and “Bye, Little Ghost!” to Morpheus.

The next to leave are Helena and Aura. Hemera's little sisters. Helena or Hely, is a red head as Hemera, but her features are softer than her older sisters and freckles are splattered across her nose. Hely doesn't hold a present in her hands. She had already finished hers a week ago. It is new piece on her violin, which she composed for her older sister. Echo couldn't wait to hear it. Helena was absolutely amazing when it comes to playing her violin and composing new pieces. A complete prodigy in the musical field. And Echo loves it when Hely plays, it's always so, so beautiful. And emotional. Aurelia on the other hand has several framed pictures in her hands. All is full of colours. Nothing is untouched by Aura. Even the frames are painted and decorated. She couldn't decide which of her pictures she should give her older sister. So she will just give her all of them. In Echo's opinion, every picture Aura painted is pretty and amazing. And Aura seems to agree with her, as she smiles proudly down to them in her hands, while rocking back and forth on her heels.

And the Spiel begins again, as it always does. And they hug and say “Bye, Sunflower!” to Hely and “Bye, Sunshine!” to Aura.

All that are left are Cadan, Artemas, Arianna and Echo herself. Artemas has of course painted a painting for Hemera. But he hadn't shown it to them. He wanted it to a surprise for everybody. Which Ari didn't find fair, as he knows all their presents for Hemera. Echo did agree, but she didn't voice her agreement, due to Art teasing Ari. Arianna, to her own unending frustration, doesn't have even a little bit of a creative vein in her body. It irks her a lot especially with a older brother and mother like Artemas and Feyre. But Ari did manage to make something decent for their oldest cousin. It is a bookmark with sun charm on a string attached to it. It actually took her multiple times to make it until it came out good enough for her. The other first attempts were immediately destroyed due to frustration on Ari's part.

The only ones that still need to go are her and Cadan. Is her dad or mom coming to pick her up or….

She is disrupted in her thought as Cadan says. “We should get going, too, Little Wonder. It's getting late.” Echo snaps her head up. “You're taking me home?” She asks surprised. Cadan laughs. “I brought you here, I'm taking you home, silly.” Echo instantly brightens. “But can we walk instead of winnow?”

“Of course, Echo. You have everything?”

Echo nods and presses both Asher and her presents against her chest. She really hoped Hemy would like it. Her present. She decorated a few plain pens and pencils. To make them look prettier, for prettier notes.

Cadan pockets his gift, three empty notebooks decorated with quotes and suns and swords and flowers and crowns. Surprisingly the notebooks fit her pens. So now Hemy's notes can be even prettier. Than Cadan turns to Art and smirks. They seem to have a silent conversation, mind to mind. But then they nod and smile.

And the spiel begins again.

After saying goodbye to Little Moon and Little Night, Echo and Cadan have a fun time walking home. Echo holds Cadan's hand the entire way. They joke. They laugh. Cadan lets Echo jump around and walk on lower walls. Cadan had pocketed Echo's present for Hemy in the beginning of their walk home, so Echo could hold his hand.

But too soon the walk was over and they stand in front of her home. Echo knocks on the door. Her father opens it. “Hi you two. How was it?” Azriel asks as he lets them inside.

“It was so much fun, daddy!” Echo exclaims, eyes bright. Az laughs softly. Cadan just smiles down at her. Than looks at the clock in the hallway and winces.

“I should get going. I'm meeting Hemy and Art in the Day main library in a few.” Cadan explains and gives her the present he had been holding for her.

The spiel, the last one for Echo tonight, begins again and ends in a brise.

First he hugs Azriel and than Echo, saying his goodbye to both. And before Echo could say anything other back, Cadan already rushed out the door. Closing it behind him.

Echo frowns at the door. Upset, that Cadan left that early. “How about you tell me in detail what you did today, Little Wonder.” Az asks her, smoothing a hand down her hair. Echo almost instantly brightens. “Okay!” Her sadness about her older cousin leaving that fast already forgotten.

____________

And that's all for Part 2. I hope you all like it.

If you have any questions feel free to ask me. I would love to answer them.

Tagging: @beaubcxton @lux-et-tenebra @mindnumbmikey @starlightheir @guthiix @iamthebonecarverr @tswaney17 @feyres-painting-studio @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks

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krupnick · 5 years

Note

A lady as kind and classy as Jessica deserves only the best of the best. So the first wrapped box that Bill offers to her is filled to the brim with unique spa treatments and mellow scented candles from all over the multiverse, appropriately labeled as "Treat Yo Self". And the second, smaller box contains a glittering ruby ring, enchanted with Bill's power. When she snaps her fingers, it will activate, silencing cat-callers or freezing anyone making unwanted advances on her.

For anyone else in the Ink and Paint, Jessica’s a cold dame with frost practically emanating from her shoulders in a frothing mist. For Bill, there’s a growing smile basked in warm, ruby lips melting that visage away like sunshine on ice. Bill packed a presence wherever he went — you had no choice but to acknowledge the ancient God when he walked into a room, and your feelings on it are you own. Jessica’s, meanwhile, were feelings of a jovial connection found among folk who were attracted to their own gender.. and the chaotic side of the sundial.

& Perhaps it was silly for her to feel this way, but it was relieving to look at this enormous man and not feel an ounce of terror for her life, or a dire need to throw up certain defenses, and instead see a face she was growing to adore. There are so many instances where the situation was the opposite, but Bill, as ironic as it may be, was nothing but a gentleman to the songstress. A hearty, wholesome and undeniably powerful beast before a small beauty. Besides, the man offered to beat down some of her more .. invasive ‘’fans’’ for making her feel uneasy. It was hard not to adore Cipher.

“Billy boy blue, come here you!” Jessica bubbles, heels quickly clicking around the way with arms extended and wrapping around the much taller gentleman. It is STRANGE the way she has to accept how someone Is Taller Than She, But You Know Life Happens And Eventually Someone’s Gonna One-Up You. Ah, but the songstress plants a little kiss to the man Cipher’s cheek, beaming up at him when she draws back. “I was hoping to run into you before the year ticked its last tock. It’s good to see you, sweetheart.” She gushed, pinching his cheek gently and giving it a little wag. “And still growing more handsome by the day, I see.”

—- but lo and behold, he comes bearing gifts!

“And what have we here?” Jessica piques, having little hesitation in lifting the spa package present and deeply inhaling its scent, soon after giving a contented sigh when detecting the candles and other perfumes. Call it the woman’s freakish sixth sense, or just the side effect of a hardworking actor, but the toon has a knack for honing in on anything containing R&R assortments - going right for its throat before all else. Although unlike any of the other pampers, she can’t place some of these aromas. They were delightful, and that was exciting. These had to be new! Just when she thought she tried just about everything under the sun, Bill goes bringing something brand new to the table and bringing a wider spread to that grin of hers, cheeks plump and rosy.

Neatly peeling back the paper, the actress soon dips her hands into the box and eagerly analyzes each item, softly cooing in awe. She was right, she hasn’t seen a good chunk of these luxuries — and she figures not many people on Earth have. Red locks pour over her shoulder with her canting head, purple thumb rubbing one of the alien labels. “You know your way to an actress’s heart.” She jokes with eye flickering back up to him. “Thank you so much. I can almost promise you this is not going to last the year out.” She’s putting them to work ASAP! But in reality, she’s going to be saving the multiverse brands as much as she possibly can, use them only when the day’s gone either really bad or really good.

—- and then came the ring,

“…” The stunned silence isn’t a bad one, it’s simple shock. Glancing back and forth between glittering ring and Bill, the star is lost for words and it shows. A moment or two is taken for her to catch her vocal cords back in her throat, and she finally speaks. “Oh, Bill..”

Delicately taking the ring from its bo and slipping it on her middle finger, opposite digits touching her clavicle in aback wonderment. Little does Bill realize just how much action this ring is going to get, and just how deep Jessica’s love is going to grow for it. An accessory that you will scarcely find her without in the foreseeable future, twinkling and stealing the tongues of plenty-a catcaller with just a nimble flick of her thin wrist.

Slender arms again throw themselves around the burly man-bound God, hugging him tightly. “You absolute angel,” She spoke gently, cordially. “I don’t even know how to thank you for this. You have no idea the trouble this going to save me.” and the days he’s going to save from being ruined. “Thank you so much, sweetheart. I love it. I love it all.” And that was the honest truth. She doesn’t take off the ring when she carefully tucks her gifts into her purse, already deciding this is where it will remain for some time.

“ —- And don’t think you’re leaving here without getting something in return, mister.” Jessica quickly states while fishing around still in her purse. She pulls out three gifts ; two large boxed presents and a much smaller one, all wrapped in glittering red wrapping paper and topped with white bows.

For Bill, it’s actually a family package. Two black leather jackets for himself and his beloved, with studded shoulders and pockets! But the most notable feature is printed on the back of them in red: “If lost, return to Rick” for one & “I’m Rick” for the other. For Bee, there’s a yellow & black candy-striped baseball bat with a comfortable rubber grip and a large twinkling transparent bag printed with little bumblebees on it; to its cute little bow brim, it’s stuffed with Christmas candy and glitter-infused paint tied with new paint brushes, and rolled up galaxy-themed paper. For Bill separately, there is a neon rainbow bracelet fit for any wrist — and the moment it’s put on, it will start to glow, float and leisurely rotate around its owners wrist. This was a souvenier she’s longed to give him since her and Rick’s Mysterious Pride Month Adventure. Finally, she has the chance to deliver it.

… and among these things is a giant, animated wicker basket that smells of fresh-baked Holiday madness in dessert form, coming in the shapes of Gingerbread Monsters, sprinkled cookies, three chocolate pies and two frilly red velvet cakes. If you thought the Cipher family was being skipped out on Jessica’s manic baking spree, You Thought Wrong. Enjoy The Bombshelter Supply Of Sweets.

“Come on, meet me at my car. I actually bought something else for your little girl, but I couldn’t bring it in.”

Whenever they went out into the night and popped open the trunk to Jessica’s crimson corvette, there was a multi-colored star with ribbons waiting inside with a small “For Bee - Happy Holidays! ♥” note attached. A piñata! It was chilly to the touch, hinting at the fact it’s been waiting for quite a while. A week, at least. “I took the chance to fill it up so you wouldn’t need to worry about that. I figured she could have a little extra fun on Christmas morning, put the bat to work for the first time. Is that alright?”

If Bill accepted it, Bee’d find a lot of Christmas sweets, chocolate coins and wrapped, homemade cake pops waiting for her one merry morning —- or whenever they decided to pop the papier-mâchétoy. It didn’t matter!

@wildgcd

#jess: i have yet to meet bee but i am Spoiling Her.#✧ │ 𝒌𝒓𝒖𝒑𝒏𝒊𝒄𝒌𝒆𝒓𝒚. ( ic. )#✧ │ 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔. ( asks. )#wildgcd #inventory.#long post #xmas 2k18 #(( also did u know papier-mâché was actually spelled like that? bc i sure didn't. fUN FACT. ))#(( also i'm sorry. jessica loves to flood ppl with tonsa stuff for the holidays fjgsjfg ))#(( SORRY THIS IS SO LONG GAUGHGH ))#(( HOPE IT'S OK ))#(( jess loves u tho bill. wOW. THESE ARE AMAZING AND SHE *TREASURES* THEM ))#(( thank you so much for thinking of Jess during the Holidays Sadie. <3 This is super sweet ;w; <3 ))

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angelofrainfrogs · 6 years

Text

The Question

Fandom: Welcome to Night Vale

Pairing: Cecil Palmer/Carlos (Cecilos)

Description: Cecil has a very important question to ask his boyfriend on their anniversary. A Cecilos Oneshot of pure fluff.

Rating: K+

Genre: Romance/Humor

Read on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15956045

A gift written for my friend @dork-empress‘s birthday.

"Welcome back, listeners! I hope you paid attention to that weather report, and remember to take your steel-plated umbrellas with you if you are traveling tonight." Cecil smiled and leaned into his microphone, hands clasped together and elbows resting on the desk.

"And now, a final update on today's on-going story: the threat has dissipated! The City Council has given the all-clear, so come on out of those underground bunkers and begin taking stock of the damage done to your property and/or vehicles. Remember: even if you report it, insurance probably will not cover it... but there is still no harm in trying!"

The radio host glanced down at the notepaper on his desk, reading over the handwritten list of items he needed to cover that day:

-"Minor" crises at the Moonlite All-Nite Diner? Check.

-A message from our sponsors (featuring Deb, the sentient patch of haze, representing Dunkin' Donuts)? Check.

-An update on adorable Janice, her mother, and her... step-father? Check.

-Continuation report of earlier crisis? Check.

-The weather? Check.

-Resolution/summation report of earlier crisis? Check.

-The Question?

"Ah!" Cecil exclaimed for the entirety of Night Vale to hear. "Listeners, it is almost time for me to break the comforting trance created by a dulcet-toned radio host speaking words of existential consequence. But before that, I have one more thing I would like to report. Well, not so much report, as much as to inform you all..." He paused, running a hand through his hair nervously. "There is a very important question that I am going to ask my boyfriend, Carlos, tonight. It is... it is a question that has been plaguing my every waking and subconscious thought for some time, and I can take it no longer; I must ask him this evening.

"So, listeners, wherever you are and whatever you are doing... I ask that you pause for just a small moment to send your good wishes to this old radio host." Feeling a presence staring at him, Cecil glanced up at the long window at the front of the broadcasting room to see Intern Joshua giving him an enthusiastic thumbs-up. He chuckled. "Hopefully, with your help, I will get the answer that I so desperately desire.

"And with that, it is time for this broadcast to come to an end. I fear that I am leaving you too soon, but I must hurry home and nervously await the arrival of my darling Carlos. As always, goodnight, Night Vale..."

***

"Goodnight."

As the first haunting notes of the "Welcome to Night Vale" theme began to drift across the airways, the pen clutched in Carlos' hand slipped out of his grasp. The sound of writing utensil impacting desk jarred the scientist out of the mental reverie he had been trapped in for the past two minutes.

"A... question...?" he mumbled to himself. His cheeks flushed red.

A female with dark, black hair pulled into a tight ponytail walked into the room, holding a clipboard. "Carlos, we have the results of the experiment that you-"

"No time, Natasha, I have to... I have to get home!" Carlos cut her off, jumping out of his chair. Natasha observed him curiously as he rushed around the room, propping his duffel bag on the seat of the chair and shoving random papers into it. After a moment of watching this, she flipped to a blank page of paper and made a note.

"What's so urgent?" she asked nonchalantly. Carlos froze in place, eyes flicking to hers before he looked at the floor and resumed stuffing things into his bag, a little slower this time.

"Erm... Cecil, uh... You see, I just remembered that I'd promised to make dinner tonight, so..." He trailed off, scratching the back of his neck and gazing around the room, making sure he hadn't forgotten anything important.

"Mm-hmm," Natasha responded, though her tone implied that she didn't accept that excuse for a second. She made another note on her clipboard and raised an eyebrow. "This wouldn't have anything to do with that 'question' your boyfriend mentioned on the radio about a minute ago, would it?"

Carlos made a noise akin to a startled mouse. He had momentarily forgotten that Cecil's show could be heard by anyone who cared to listen. Zipping up his bag, he squared his shoulders and looked his lab partner straight-on.

"W-Wish me luck," he said, fists clenched at his sides. Natasha grinned.

"Go get 'em, Bunny!" she cheered. Carlos frowned at the use of a nickname she must have heard on-air, but nonetheless grabbed his things and walked towards the door.

He didn't quite know how he managed to get back to the quaint apartment, but somehow Carlos found himself at home once again. It seemed as if he'd driven there in a daze, yet his car was parked in the usual spot and the keys were in his hand. He shrugged this off; ending up places without being aware of how exactly you traveled there was certainly nothing new in Night Vale.

Carlos entered the apartment and dropped his bag on the ground. Closing the door behind him, he searched the entryway for anything out of the ordinary. From the way Cecil had spoken on-air, Carlos half-expected an extravagant welcome full of noise, decorations, and his beloved radio host waiting just inside the door.

Alas, the only thing that the scientist found was silence.

"Cece?" he called, making his way towards the kitchen.

"Carlos!" a deep voice exclaimed in response. The person it belonged to subsequently stuck his head out from the around a corner of the wall, his three eyes shining with excitement. "You are home early today!"

"Yeah, I, uh... I got let off early today for... for stuff," Carlos sputtered out. He gave a half-shrug, holding out his arms as if to say, Well... here I am!

"I am so happy!" Cecil responded, immediately walking over to wrap his arms around Carlos' neck. His boyfriend returned the hug, giving Cecil's waist a brief squeeze before releasing the radio host in favor of gazing lovingly at his face.

"I... have something I would like to ask you," Cecil continued slowly, glancing at the floor. Carlos blinked.

I guess it's straight to the point, then, he thought, running a slightly shaky hand through his hair.

"O-Oh?" he questioned aloud, wincing as a finger caught in one of his curly locks. Come on, Carlos, there's nothing to be nervous about.

"Yes." Cecil cleared his throat, eye still glued to the ground. "Carlos, you and I both know that our anniversary is coming up, and in light of this very important event, I need a crucial piece of information from you."

Carlos remained silent, afraid that any attempt to speak would end in a slew of unintelligible babble. His brain was finding it hard to form coherent thoughts, so he assumed that speaking would be even more difficult. Taking this silence as a signal to go on, Cecil gave a nervous smile.

"My darling Carlos... would you..." He paused, and the tattoos that blanketed his body began to shift- a sign that the radio host was feeling some sort of strong emotion. While it wasn't always obvious exactly what that emotion was, Carlos half-hoped that at the current moment, Cecil was just as anxious as him. "Would you... help me choose a jacket to wear for our date tonight?"

The scientist blinked. Cecil finally matched his gaze, smiling nervously. After a moment of quiet, Carlos slowly nodded.

"Oh... oh, sure. Yeah, of course," he agreed, doing his best to put on a smile as well.

Really, Carlos, why in the world did you expect this to happen now? Compared to a lot of couples, we haven't been going out that long, he mentally berated himself, following his boyfriend to the bedroom closet. And anyway, why did I ever think he'd be the one to ask me to-

"I am stuck between three options and cannot bring myself to choose one over another," Cecil explained, holding up the sleeve of one of the jackets in question. The sleeve belonged to a brown garment made of tweed-like fabric, which was embellished with a vibrant purple trim. Carlos desperately resisted the urge to grimace; fashion had never been one of Cecil's strong suits, and although Carlos didn't pride himself on being that fashion-forward either, he at least knew when something was just... wrong.

Still, his love for the radio host far outweighed any qualms he might have about his style. Giving a soft laugh, he gestured to the open closet. "Show me the options, love."

Without hesitation, Cecil shuffled through a few items of clothing and pulled out a yellow suit jacket with vibrant red and blue lines forming a plaid pattern across the fabric. Again, Carlos quickly suppressed a wince; this option was far worse than the first one.

"I feel as though this would look better with the salmon shorts I am wearing- you know, the ones with the turquoise fish all over them?" Cecil nodded towards the bed, on which the offending pair of shorts lay. "But I am just not sure..."

"...What's your third choice?" Carlos asked. Cecil absently threw the yellow and brown jackets in the direction of the bed and looked through the hanging garments once again.

"Hmm...," the radio host muttered, frowning slightly. "I cannot seem to find the third one, although I swear I hung it up right about here. Maybe it was moved by -"

His speech was abruptly ended by something solid hitting the hardwood floor. Both men looked down to find a small, black, velvet box sitting innocently next to the closet door. Carlos' jaw dropped and his gaze snapped up to his boyfriend, to find Cecil's cheeks already flushed crimson. His third eye began to cloud over, indicating that he was under a sudden, extreme deal of stress.

"Um...," Carlos began, but before he could say anything else Cecil snatched the box off the floor and hid it behind his back. Biting his lip, he looked everywhere but at the man in front of him.

"Now, I... I know for a fact that I did not leave that box in such a vulnerable position," he began to babble. "The Faceless Old Woman who secretly lives in our home must have moved it without my knowledge, because I would certainly never leave it where it could be found so easily! Haha..."

Carlos could only stare, not wanting to misread the situation.

There's no way, he thought, watching his boyfriend's tattoos squirm and gravitate towards the hands hidden behind his back. There could be anything in that box. Besides, I highly doubt Cece would do that the "traditional" way...

"Well, I... I suppose I cannot put this off any longer," the radio host announced with a small sigh. He swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and to the scientist's absolute astonishment, bent down on one knee and proffered the still-closed box towards him.

"C-Cecil!" Carlos exclaimed, pressing one hand to his mouth and the other over his heart. He gazed down at the man in front of him, feeling an overwhelming surge of surprise as Cecil, in his most sincere voice asked:

"My beautiful, beautiful Carlos... will you take a new journey with me and spend the rest of our lives in the fantastical realm of marriage?"

Though Carlos found himself unable to speak, he managed to let out a delirious sort of laugh. The request was a little unconventional, sure, but the scientist had left any sense of normalcy behind him when he'd taken on a job in this friendly desert community with the hot sun, the beautiful moon, and mysterious lights passing overhead while everyone pretended to sleep. With a shout, he threw himself into Cecil's arms, knocking the radio host over and causing him to yelp very uncharacteristically.

The men soon detangled themselves, though they remained seated on the floor. The black box lay on its side, knocked out of Cecil's hands in the excitement of the moment. Cecil grabbed it, turning it upright, and then abruptly smacked a palm to his forehead (carefully avoiding his eye in the process, which seemed to wince of its own accord).

"Ah, silly me... I was supposed to open this when I asked you, was I not?" the radio host questioned, giving Carlos an apologetic smile. Carlos let out another laugh, gently pushing a wayward lock of blonde hair out of Cecil's face.

"Forget about that; I'm just so happy you asked me in the first place," he said, unable to stop his grin from widening. He squeezed Cecil's knee and placed a kiss on his cheek, causing the radio host's blush to reemerge with doubled intensity.

"W-Well, of course; it felt like the right time, and I did not want to wait any longer because I feel as though we have been in a relationship long enough that we are ready to take the next step and..." Cecil trailed off, realizing that he was beginning to ramble again. He placed the box in Carlos' hand. "Anyway, you should open it."

Hesitantly, Carlos lifted the velvet lid. He’d imagined a small band of gold or silver resting comfortably in-between the tiny cushions- something simple and not very flashy. However, as he carefully picked up the ring and held it to the light, he couldn't help but let out a small gasp of surprise.

The ring did have somewhat of a traditional design, but only on the outer edging, which lined the piece of jewelry in parallel bands of gold. The center of ring was a strikingly deep blue, flecked at random by slivery-white dots. It was hard to tell exactly what color they were as they changed depending on the angle of the light, but Carlos instantly determined that they were meant to represent stars.

"Do you like it?" Cecil asked, scooting closer, an eager smile lighting up his face.

"Yes, I... it's beautiful!" Carlos breathed. Gently, Cecil guided the band onto the scientist's left hand. As soon as Carlos felt the cool metal wrap around his finger, tears of happiness welled up in his eyes.

"Oh, I am so relieved!" Cecil let out a sigh. "I was not sure if you would enjoy a unique design... But, I wanted to make it truly special and decided that the best way to do this was to create something that only my beautiful Carlos would have."

"You custom-designed this?!"

"Not entirely on my own, but the basic idea was mine, yes." Cecil awkwardly cleared his throat and directed his attention to the floor yet again. "When I think of our future together, I am reminded of the endless possibilities we still have ahead of us- options vaster than the universe itself."

Carlos smiled and squeezed his hand, not realizing that the endearingly outlandish radio host could be this romantic. Spurred on by this gesture, Cecil returned the grin and added:

"Additionally, when I look into the night sky I am reminded of our time together on the night after your near-death experience at the bowling alley." Carlos raised a curious eyebrow, wondering why this was the one moment that had cemented itself in Cecil's mind to associate with the starry sky. The radio host chuckled lightly, drifting his fingers across Carlos' cheek. "I knew I loved you from the day I first saw you, but it was at that moment, sitting underneath the stars and the light of the Arby's sign, that I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. I did not know how much time I had left- nor do I know this now-, but I do know that I want to spend whatever I have by your side."

"Aw, Cece..." Carlos furiously rubbed a wayward tear from his face, grinning so hard his cheeks began to hurt. "I'm not sure what to say except... me too. Er, yes. Yes, I will definitely spend the rest of my life with you, no matter what this crazy town throws at us."

With that declaration, there were no more words needed to be said. Carlos placed a soft kiss on his fiancé's lips and sat back, admiring the man who he would soon be able to call his husband. They remained like that until the sunlight completely faded away from the windows, leaving the pair illuminated only by the moon and stars in the vast, never-ending sky.

#cecilos #cecil palmer #carlos #welcome to night vale #the question #fluff #oneshot #fanfic #fanfiction #romance #humor #phantomhivemast3r #midna3452 #ao3

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