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#don’t worry at least now he’ll get to play it

mostly-imagines · 17 days

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Guard Dog

jason todd x fem!reader

aka don’t fuck with jason’s girlfriend

4 in 1 blurbs

warnings: mildly creepy guys, standard protective bf methods

Jason’s good at shutting people up very quickly. You’d almost call it a talent.

He shuts you up with a kiss when you get stuck in a rant, or with a hug to calm your worried rambles.

And when you’re in an incorrigibly teasing mood, he’ll throw you over his shoulder and carry you back to your bedroom to really shut you up.

With other people though, he has…different methods.

You sit atop your kitchen counter, trading lazy kisses in between giggles with your boyfriend. He stands in front of you, hands massaging your thighs as he leans in for another. You happily oblige.

You break off the exchange to lay a series of sweet kisses on that spot under his jaw.

His head tilts back, letting out a groan so low you nearly miss it. “Sweetheart…” he warns.

“Sorry…” you resign with a sheepish smile.

A knock at the door bursts you out of your shared reverie. You press a kiss to his knuckles and hop down to start setting the table.

Jason gets the door, greeting the pizza guy with a nod as you shuffle around the kitchen. The delivery guy hands him a receipt, asking for a signature.

Jason uses the door as a surface to sign, giving the delivery guy an apt view into your apartment, where he sees you getting out plates in the kitchen. More noticeably, he sees you in your boyfriend's shirt, which rides up just a little bit when you stand up on your toes to reach the top cabinet. The lift of the shirt exposes the bottom of your underwear, though it falls back into place again just as quickly.

Now, lucky for this guy, Jason’s facing the door and does not see him checking you out in your own home. Unlucky for this guy, he has wildly misread the vibe of your relationship. Or at least your boyfriend.

“Man, how do you get anything done around here?” He jests.

Jason looks up at him, and the pizza man’s eyes tear away from your legs to meet his hard gaze. It does not take him long to realize his mistake.

“Try again.” Jason behests, arms crossed in front of him.

The pizza boy’s eyes go wide and he shakes his head, stuttering. “I—uh, I said have a good night.”

“Mhm.” He grumbles.

The pizza guy hands Jason the box with shaky hands and scuttles back down the hallway.

Thankfully, you didn’t seem to notice the exchange, but even so, your boyfriend still glowers down the hallway after him.

“Jay?”

His attention snaps back to you, demeanor changing instantly. “Yeah, baby?”

You’re sitting in your usual spot at the table, his chair empty and waiting just around the corner from you.

“Come sit.” You say, with eyes that might as well be hearts.

He gives a reassuring nod and kicks the door shut behind him.

You and Jason are sitting on the floor in his old room at the manor, your legs thrown over his. You lean up against his bed, asking him about posters on the walls and trinkets on the shelves.

His knee is propped up and your arm dangles across it, his hand in yours. He plays with your fingers and periodically leans forward to leave a kiss on them.

You’d just woken up less than an hour ago after spending the night post-gala, and it’s a peaceful, if not unusually quiet morning.

Dick shouts your name from another room, audibly booking it towards you. Yeah. That’s more like what Jason remembers.

He grumbles some annoyances, dropping his head against your intertwined hands.

Dick bursts into the room, clearly incredibly excited.

“What’s up, Dick?” You ask, calm as ever. Jason lets an unseen smile creep up, head still down.

Dick’s practically jumping up and down, “You gotta see the shit that Tim just found in the cave!” His face drops as he directs his gaze to Jason, “You’re not invited.”

“Thank God.”

Dick ignores him and grabs your wrist, yanking you up from the floor. This is one place where he differs from Jason—he’s not always quite so aware of his own strength.

His grip doesn’t hurt really, but it’s firm enough that you imagine there’ll be bruise marks there later.

“Hey.” Jason calls out, nodding his head to where Dick is holding your arm. “Ease up.”

Dick follows his gaze and immediately loosens his hold, apologizing to you before pulling you along once again (this time much more gentle).

You grin at Jason as he tugs you out the door, him returning it with an endeared smile as he watches you go.

Fuck he loves you.

Jason had a decent break from his night job for once, and was happy to let you drag him out to a bar for a little date. You’d been linked at the hip for most of the night, his hands maintaining their ever present home on your waist and yours resting on his thighs as you tell him about your hectic day.

He’d usually prefer to stay in bed with you for as long as possible when he gets time off, but you’d looked so excited asking him to go out with you—he never stood a chance.

You look up into the mirror as you wash your hands, a strand of hair falling into your face as you do. You push it back behind your ear and smile to yourself, recalling the several times Jason had wordlessly done the same throughout the night as you rambled.

You make your way back to the bar, smile immediate on your face when you see your boyfriend. It gets replaced rather quickly though, when a man slides in front of you, cutting off your view of him.

“Hey there.”

You have to take a step back because of how close he decided to stand to you. He looks sober (enough) but wildly overconfident in whatevers about to happen.

"Let me buy you a drink, pretty thing."

Jason calls you pretty thing sometimes. It makes the blood rush to your cheeks and an inescapable smile creep up on your lips. When this guy says it, it makes you literally frown.

"Oh no, I'm okay, my—"

"You seem like a dirty martini kinda girl." He expertly ignores you, clearly trying and failing to make some kind of innuendo there.

Jason's sitting back against the bar, watching the interaction carefully. You still can’t see him, but he’s close and you can rest comfortable knowing he’s looking out for you.

With that reassurance, you don’t play this out quite as carefully as you would if you were alone.

"Look, I don't want a drink from you, thanks."

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say to him because his face contorts quickly to mock-disgust that you figure is really just embarrassment.

“Hey, don’t be a bitch just ‘cause—”

You try to sidestep around him, thoroughly done with this interaction, but he grabs your upper arm harshly, pulling you to an abrupt stop.

Jason stands up real quick, yanking the guy backwards by his collar before you can even process what's happening.

Now, you know that Jason is an objectively intimidating guy. There's not many people that will come face to face with that absolute unit of a man and still decide to keep on trying him. However, you tend to forget that when you're so used to your gentle giant that only ever speaks to you kindly and touches you softly.

But his intimidating status becomes very apparent when the guy spins around, looks up at Jason, and immediately takes four steps back. He actually almost bumps into you in the process, not doing anything to tame Jason’s acute distaste for this man.

"Listen to me—back the fuck off before you get hurt."

“She—”

“I don’t give a fuck. Leave.”

The guy hesitates.

“Now.” Jason adjusts his posture to stand at his staggering full height, clearly with no qualms about putting him back in his place.

That does it for him, the man stumbllng away with half-committed mumbles of “whatever” or “something something lame anyway.”

Jason watches him until he walks out the door, before turning back to you.

He delicately takes your upper arm in his hand, pulling your sleeve up to search for bruising. But as harshly as he had grabbed you, it didn’t have the time to cause a bruise before Jason intervened.

“What’d he say to you?” Jason asks, brow furrowed as he inspects your arm.

“Nothing very interesting.” He looks at you mildly.

You smile and comb his hair back from his forehead, “Don’t worry about him. I’m good.”

He lets your arm go, and exchanges it for holding the back of your head, planting a kiss on your forehead.

You take his other hand and guide him back to your seats.

“Besides,” You look over his shoulder and let out a little shocked gasp. “Guess who just walked in.”

He gives you a questioning look before his face slacks, eyes widening in realization.

“No…” And you smile so brightly it almost makes up for what's coming his way.

You redirect your smile over his shoulder and give a wave to the door. Jason swigs down the rest of his drink, hand finding your waist once again.

“Jaybird!”

Jason’s still exhausted from patrol last night but he’d insisted on going with you to the bar to meet your friends. You’d tried to convince him that it was okay to stay in and rest tonight, you’d be fine. But it was a losing battle.

You suspect it has something to do with him not liking when you go out in Gotham at night, especially when you’re drinking.

So he hangs out in the background of the buzz, with you sat in front of him, in between his legs.

You’re talking it up with Roy, who’s been making jokes about how Jason’s “moody ass” tricked you, “the ray of sunshine” into this relationship somehow.

You laugh, taking a sip of your drink. “Right, ‘cause you and Kori were in love at first sight.”

"Oh, fuck off." Roy jeers.

He doesn't say it with the cadence of a joke, but it is.

You know he's joking, he knows he's joking.

Jason, who very well may have been tuned out of the conversation up to that point, does not seem to know he's joking—or he doesn't care.

You don't need to look behind you to know that your boyfriend is in defensive mode, though the look of regret mixed with amusement on Roy's face gives a solid hint.

You hold your hand out to block Jason his path as he moves forward. He lets you stop him, though you're certain he could get past you without so much as blinking, no problem.

"Right. My bad, forgot your guard dog was here. Don't fuck off." Roy backtracks, hands up in front of him.

Jason just rolls his eyes, slouching back down. You reach behind you for his hand, giving it two squeezes. You know he’s tired, so much so that he almost punched his best friend for making a typical joke.

“Five more minutes, okay?” You say softly over your shoulder.

He nods at you blearily, and ducks his head down to rest on your back. You adjust your posture a little bit to make it more comfortable for him and continue on talking, his hand still in yours.

If he hadn’t fallen asleep so quickly, five minutes would’ve been five minutes, but instead it became something more like fifty.

He goes through patches where sleep isn’t always so welcoming, a phase he’s been in for the past couple of weeks. You’d been waking up to find the bed half empty, your boyfriend resigned to doing research on cases in an attempt to at least be productive while he’s awake.

You can’t protect him in the same ways that he protects you—you’re not a fighter or necessarily “intimidating.” But you can protect him like this, in these little ways. Letting him nap on you, making him close the case files and rest with you, holding his hand throughout the night so that when he inevitably has nightmares, he knows immediately that you’re still with him. That he’s safe.

So if he can get some much needed sleep while only costing you a stiff back tomorrow, you’ll happily take that deal as many times as he needs.

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loko4koko · 4 months

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·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ jujutsu kaisen nsfw visuals ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

✰ 50 FOLLOWER CELEBRATION ✰

>fanart_credit (l->r): bellablues99, _3aem, deltapork, hercaptain2

*to view the following links you must be 18+ and have a twitter/x account. if you click a link and it opens to your browser with “this page does not exist”, please click “open in app”*

MDNI 18+

>contents: mostly gn!reader, some moments are written with f!reader in mind though so beware! | yuuji- sex toys (dildos), fingering (f!receiving), cervix fucking (brief mention), established relationship, yuuji has a big dick; gojo- fingering (f!receiving), pussy worship, anal play, explicit p in v, pussy referred to as ‘she’, implied squirting; toji- anal (f!receiving), size kink, dirty (filthy) talk, mating press, squirting; nanami- established relationship, domestic nanami, sensual/romantic/gentle p in v, missionary, titty sucking, reader is referred to as “wife” and wears a nightgown

♡︎ with (aged up) virgin!boyfriend!yuuji

being in a relationship with yuuji was wonderful. he made you laugh, comforted you when you needed it, and, even though he’s a virgin, he still knows how to make you cum. don’t get me wrong, yuuji would die to give you his virginity, but he’s just so nervous. always worrying about if he’ll do a good job at making you feel good, and especially about if he’ll even last long enough—he thinks he’ll blow his load the second he’s inside of those hot, slippery walls of yours. so, he came up with something that would satisfy you both until he could work through those nerves. he’ll start by kissing you, so sweet but so full of need, as he undresses you, lying you down on his bed with your ass up. he grips your cheeks and spreads them apart, watching with wonder and lust soaked eyes as the sticky strings of your arousal shine in the light. he can’t help but to tease your lower lips with his long middle finger, reveling in your little gasping whines when he brushes against your clit.

“you ready, baby?” he asks, not bothering to wait for a proper answer before he picks up the real star of the show that’s sitting beside him. he can’t wait, he’s just too excited! it’s his favorite toy to use on you—a dildo he’d found that was similar enough to the length and shape of his own girthy cock. and how perfect was it that it was a delicate pink, the same color as his mussed locks? he gives you no words of warning before he’s slicking the cool silicone up with your plentiful juices, a shudder running through you at the toy sliding through your folds.

it’s funny, actually, how gently he eases the toy into you at first. he’s so slow, letting you adjust to the thick shaft now splitting your sopping little pussy apart. it’s got you whimpering, squirming at the intrusion that makes you feel so full, so good. but when he thinks you’re well adjusted, gentle is the last word you’d use to describe him. his grip on the base of the toy is tight, forcefully pulling the fake cock out and punching it back into you. he’s gotten good at this over the past few weeks, too, knows how to angle it juuust right to hit that little pleasure button inside of you. he fucks the toy in and out of you so fast it makes your head spin and your eyes tear up, fingers digging into the sheets for a grip on something or else you think you might float away. he leaves the dildo inside of you to slap the base, growing impossibly harder as you cry that it’s “soo f-fucking deeep, yuuji, please!” he only shows you mercy by pressing his palm to the base and grinding the toy inside you—so deep that you think it touches your cervix—and when you whine about how close you are to cumming again, he goes right back to that fast fucking until that pretty little pussy is creaming all over it.

♡ with bestfriend!gojo

letting your best friend play with your pussy was normal, right?

well, it was normal for you and gojo at least. like now, and how he had you on your hands and knees on the couch in his apartment. he couldn’t help the way he worshipped your delicious cunt—he was powerless to it, to you. you’d gotten so wet from his scandalous tongue in your mouth, but he needed to feel just how soaked you were for himself. he’s got his thumb between your folds, massaging up and down your slit. he’ll focus on your hole, smearing the growing wetness around before slipping the digit back down, then back up again.

and if his fingers drift upwards, away from your clit and syrup-sticky pussy lips, to your pretty little asshole that just wouldn’t stop winking at him, would you be upset with him? could you, even? he doesn’t think so, not with the way you moan so fucking sexy and wanton when he smooths some of your slick across the delicate hole. he adds a little pressure, just enough of a tease to make you think he’ll slip it inside, but he doesn’t. instead he just massages the puckering hole with the tip of his finger. it’s tempting, but he won’t fuck you there today- he’s got his mind set on that pussy that grips and squeezes him so much he thinks she’s determined to suck the cum right out of him. he’ll take his fingers back down to your pussy, wetter now from his little anal adventure, and plunge his index and middle fingers in knuckle deep. he’s un-rushed in his exploration of your cunt, shallowly thrusting his long digits in and out of you. he reaches so far inside of you, flicking his fingertips against your g-spot over and over and over again. he’s hard enough from everything about you already—how needy you kissed him back earlier and how your pussy is so wet he can fucking hear it, but when you start wiggling your ass and fucking yourself on his hand? god, he thinks he’s going to cum buckets right then and there.

“y’want me ta fuck you, angel? yeah? want me deep in this pretty little pussy? oh, fuck..if you could see how she’s twitching for me.. i think she wants me in there, baby,” he sighs lustfully, enraptured as he watches your pussyhole weep and clench around nothing. but it’s okay, he’s gonna give her just what she needs.

spoiler alert: he fucks three very messy orgasms out of you that evening, and now he needs a new couch.

♡ with scumbagbf!toji

you would say that you don’t even know why you let a guy like toji fushiguro stake a claim over half of your bed—but that would be a lie. you know exactly why. and the answer is his fat fucking dick.

toji is a jackass. he’s rude, selfish, and eats all of your leftovers that you were looking forward to after work. and every time he does something to piss you off, you give him that “sensitive little silent treatment bullshit,” as he calls it. and he can deal with it at first, makes snide remarks about how he loves the peace and quiet, but after a few hours, he starts getting antsy. he watches with thighs spread wide and a beer in his hand as you maneuver around him in his seat on the couch, doing that angry, silent cleaning thing that you always do when you’re mad at him. the sports game playing on the tv is no longer of interest to him, much more entertained by the way your ass hangs out of those itty bitty shorts you always wear to clean. you’re bent over, putting away something or the other in a drawer when you suddenly feel the man you’re trying to ignore press up behind you. he’s got those meaty hands on your hips, grinding himself against your ass and goddamn it, why is he so fucking hard?

“y’gonna let me make it up to you, pussycat? or y’gonna stay pouting all day?”

and that’s how you ended up like this, half on the couch and half off, asshole spread and gaping around the overwhelming girth of toji’s cock. he’s supposed to be making it up to you, and yet, you’re doing all the work- knees and thighs burning as you fuck yourself back on the thickness splitting you open. you couldn’t help but to give in to his proposition. who wouldn’t when his cock sat so heavy and full in his boxer briefs, pressed up between your cheeks as he whispered insincere apologies coupled with kisses on your ear. he’ll meet your hips with his own thrusts when he feels like it, your eyes squeezing shut when he gets so deep inside it feels like he’s in your fucking stomach.

“thaaat’s it, pussycat, fuck yourself on my cock, jus’ like that. tell me you like my big dick in your ass,” he grunted, hand coming down to leave a smack on your jiggling flesh.

“mmh, i lo-ove your big fucking dick in my ass, baby,” you hiccup, looking back at the hulking man over your shoulder with your lip between your teeth. toji groans, pulling his cock out of your spasming hole. he grips your ass cheeks and spreads them apart, letting out a low “fuck” when he sees just how gaped your asshole is, watching as the ring of muscle struggles to return to its original shape and size. he maneuvers you into a new position, on your back on the couch with your knees shoved up to your chest. he barely gives you any time to get used to this new positioning before he’s flush with your hips, bulbous head of his hefty cock prodding at your stretched out hole.

“get ready, pussycat. you’re gonna squirt alllll over me before i’m done with this slutty little fuckhole of yer’s.”

and with his cock deep in your ass, his thumb merciless on your clit, you do exactly that. smug bastard.

♡ with husband!nanami

your husband spoiled you. he got you a big house, with a big yard full of flowers, a big kitchen that he uses to feed you, and a big bed that he makes love to you in. it was no different this morning, a sunday, just barely past 8am. he awakens first, curling his arm tighter around you as he pushes his face into your neck that’s bared so pretty for him. he doesn’t want to wake you—he’s enamored with you, with how peaceful and calm you look—but he’s losing the battle, cock stiff in his silk pajama pants and growing harder as he takes in your scent. you smell so good, and your skin is so soft, and your face is so fucking pretty, can you really blame him for getting worked up?

nanami loves you, his precious little wife, so he’s gentle with his need for you. he kisses the column of your throat and the line of your jaw so gently, nose nuzzling into your cheek as he slowly begins his grind into you. it isn’t long before you’re stirring in his arms, adoring smile on your face and a giggle leaving your lips at your husband’s early morning randiness. but god, he’s just so convincing, enticing you more and more as the press of his lips forms a path down to your chest, slipping the strap of your night down off of your shoulder to take a nipple into his mouth.

one thing about your dear husband that you’ve known for years, is that he loves to see your face while he’s inside of you. and that tradition is unchanging on this morning, now that he’s got you naked and writhing underneath him. he’s carving his way into you, shallowly thrusting but he’s just so long that he hits deep no matter how hard or softly he fucks you. hazel eyes peek at you through his thick lashes, still lavishing his tongue across the hardened peak of your tit. it’s always so good when it’s slow like this, when nanami gets to take his time making you fall apart.

“you feel s-so wonderful, darling..so wet for me, my perfect wife,” he moans against your breast. you’ve got one hand curled up into his hair and the other massaging your clit, unable to respond to his loving words with anything other than a hoarse moan of his name. his lips leave your nipple in favor of snatching your own up, driving his cock in and out of you with a bit more depth, more force. he can’t help but to start fucking you in earnest once he gets a taste of your lips, loves to swallow up those moans and cries as your manicured nails find their new residence on his muscular back and shoulders.

“hnng- god- kento! yes, baby, please, right there..right there,” you cry out to him, the sensation of his cock digging right into that fleshy little spot inside of you and his pelvis rubbing right up on your clit bringing you closer and closer to the edge. fuck, he’s so in love with you, so in love with the way your pussy grips him like he’s about to leave forever, but that would never happen. he’ll always be with you, could never love another like you, not when you smile at him so sweetly and run baths for him when he’s had a long, rough day. not when you let him fill you like this, not when you let him stuff you full of load after load of his cum, not when you tell him how much you love him when you cum together for the umpteenth time that morning alone.

>author’s_note: THANK YOU FOR 50 (KAJILLION) FOLLOWERS!!! Here’s to another 50, and so on 🥂

>>keep your eyes peeled for an upcoming announcement (psst- it’s the road to 100 followers series announcement 👀)

>thank you for reading ♡︎

>masterlist.exe

>send a request here!

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xxyutaa · 4 months

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nct as horny bfs

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

warnings: pure smut lol

authors note: this lowkey took a while 🍷 but here it is ig! as our first post here’s a taste for all ;) ty for reading!! 💗 ≽^•⩊•^≼

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

TAEIL usually gets horny in the morning, but he’s not the one waking up first. ever since he admitted to you that he likes when u suck him dry in the morning you’ve been doing it since. plus the sounds he makes are always better in the morning when his beautiful voice is a little raspy and tired and not quite settled yet. fuck he loves the way your throat feels around him, and the way your tongue swirls around him with your slow moves makes him moan louder, not caring if other members hear because he claims; “i’m older than them, they shouldn’t be fazed if i’m with my girl”. but that’s not the only time he’s horny. he can’t help himself whenever you wear tight tops with your cleavage out and bra peeping out a bit, he gets even more stressed when he sees you wearing his favorite bra. “baby you look so good, can i see them without the bra now?'' It's like an invitation for him to suck, eat, and play with you for as long as he wants (which is usually a longgg time). when he gets close, your hands go straight to where you know makes him feel good like his hair, tugging on it making him let out pretty moans. “augh~ baby, m gonna cum”. and when he lets out his pretty white stripes from him he asks you to eat some of it for him. “baby can you clean it a little please? you look so pretty eating me…” and his eyes are pleading with more lust than before.

JOHNNY this little shit figures it out fast. he’s pretty damn smart and very observant so anytime you came to watch a practice he would see how your thighs pressed together, or the way your breath hitched anytime he touched you can and will tease the ever living shit out of you with this information. back hugs are mandatory, at least once a day now, just so he can subtly press his hips against you refuses to fuck you anywhere the two of you can get caught not because he’s worried about getting caught, no he just loves to get you all flustered and then leave you to deal with it until you get home. he makes up for it every time though. stamina? high af tbh i’m talking like 6-7 rounds before he’s done for the night if necessary loves eating you out too, he could do that for hours and doesn’t even care about how much his jaw hurts because the sounds you make are just too pretty for him to stop. it’d be a sin if he gets you too horny in public and you’re wearing a skirt or dress, he’ll get the two of you somewhere crowded and slide his fingers into you just to see how quiet you can be. he feels blessed that you’re so horny all the time because he’s nearly insatiable himself tbh.

TAEYONG is exactly the kind of guy to take over an hour making you desperate and horny for him, enjoying the view of your sensitive body squirming beneath him, craving some kind of release. seeing you like that for him, all just with his words and the occasional well placed hands, boosts his ego to no end, as well as making him literally rock hard. and the sounds you make when you're a hot, horny mess~ lord, he wants to record them on his phone and play them back full volume when he jacks off. honestly, he just wants to record you in general. take a video of you mewling for him. maybe snap a pic from above of you with your top pulled up over your tits, nipples hard, thighs pressing together, and with the most desperate look on your face while he’s with the other members.

YUTA surprisingly doesn’t make it clear enough that he’s horny. it’s almost like he doesn’t give enough of a hint for you to figure it out, or at least that’s what he thinks. you get it, he’s horny, so you take your time making him finally spill out that he wants you to pump his aching cock. and when you do good lord does he praise you. like “fuck princess so good for me”, “shit don’t stop- faster peach, faster” and “take your tits out for me- fuck! so beautiful”. he loves praising you because he knows how much it turns you on. rubbing your thighs in response just gets you wet enough for him to finally lift you (once he’s covered your tits in his cum) and onto the bed where he slips into you so easily, so wet and ready for him. he can be like this for the rest of the day but he’s always so busy that whenever he cums for you, good lord is it a lot. “fuck- look princess, look how much you made me keep inside me. poor me huh baby? cmon one more time let me fuck you” and he always says it so politely you just can’t say no. several rounds later is when he finally stops and admires the work of art on your body, cum everywhere. and one of his favorite things to do is grab his cum and let you lick it off his fingers, eyes teary.

KUN when he feels so tense and pressured gives you many reasons to feel anxious. because you know his favorite way to relieve all that stress is to use your pretty little mouth. He loves the way you lick his big cock with your much smaller tongue. licking the tip gently to tease him and taking him all down making him throw his head back, groaning with heavy breaths. when he’s getting close, you swallow around him, making your throat close tight around him. fuck he loves when you do this, and when he cums he pumps it all over your face. taking a picture when he’s done with you. this led him to obtaining a whole collection of your face, and parts of your body, with his cum, red marks, spit and other things he finds so sexy on you. Whenever you’re away and he doesn’t have you to make him feel better, he gets off at these photos (and videos) and he sends you a photo of the aftermath knowing you’ll send him something back to make him go for round two. eventually his phone rings from you and well, he answers with his cock on display, still aching and covered in cum. these calls are definitely your favorite with him…

DOYOUNG gets really shy when you start being intimate with him, but he really loves it. so much so that when you ask him if there’s anything you can do for him after a concert, he says “mm… there’s this one thing but it’s okay i’ll just go to sleep”. he always does this though and at this point it doesn’t faze you. you get up and straddle him on the bed, hands flying to take off his clothes. “w-what?” he asks stupidly. but you say nothing. he can feel him squirm around you as he doesn’t know where to put his hands. at one point you’re the one pumping his dick, licking his tip and riding him, moaning out of control and cum leaking from him. but before you know it you’re on all fours for him begging and pleading for him to fuck you harder, he fucks deep into you, making you clench the sheets with your hands. “can anyone fuck you this good princess? hmm??”. you can’t even let out a yes or no as you moan and cry into the mattress beneath you. but beside being in the bedroom and in private, he also tends to appreciate you in places like restaurant bathrooms and empty practice rooms, glancing from time to time at the door preparing for someone to walk in. he loves the way it’s so quick, so heated and steamy as he pumps his digits in your soaking cunt, leaving you to moan and whine as he does so (which ultimately makes him moan and whine with you). you end up squirting on his wet fingers as the room fills up with your heavy breaths, then both of you rush to get out of there.

TEN was pressed against the after you pushed him onto it. locking the door before you even thought of touching him. his shirt was pulled off as you kissed down his neck, your tongue occasionally lapping at the soft skin which sent shivers down his spine and his hands clutching to your shoulders in an attempt to ground himself. once getting to his chest, you noticed his puffy and pink nipples poking out, the small little buds enticing you so you just had to give one of them a kitty licks, loving how he would jolt with every wet touch them and let out small squeaks in embarrassment. his hands went up to your hair and gently tugged on the soft strands while whimpering for you to stop, fearing they would get swollen and hurt but you showed no care as you mercilessly sucked and licked them like they were candy, moaning at how responsive his body was with every touch to the little buds. looking up through your eyelashes, you made eye contact as you grazed your teeth against the aroused bud which made one eye closed as a shot of pain tingled across his chest but it only made his dick twitch. "b-babe.." he panted softly, hands leaving your hair to try to push you off but you only held his push against you, not leaving any room for him to escape. pulling away, a string of saliva attached to his nipple to your mouth made him gulp, "yes, baby?" you purred, tongue licking at the perky nipple which made him whine. "can you take off my pants and touch me, please?" he asked, his voice soft and whiny. “of course my love” you smiled before placing a kiss to his nose then unbuttoned his pants, pulling the zipper down to see he wasn't wearing underwear~

JAEHYUN dirty talk. that voice. i think y'all know what I'm talking about literally orgasmic. it's so deep, and smooth, and relaxing in a way that just gets you going. there's just something about it that makes you rub your thighs together. when he presses his lips close to your ear, his voice feels like he's caressing you all over, yes all over. you basically get high off his voice. cloud nine. he absolutely loves to talk dirty to you, telling you exactly what he's going to do to you, how pretty you look with your mouth around his cock, or how you're taking him inside you so well. he's got a knack for choosing exactly the right words, and it gets your pussy dripping and aching for him. he always says about how your pussy feels like it was made for his cock it fits so snug. loose enough that he can fuck you whenever, but tight enough that he has to work for it. but the dirty talk doesn't stop there. he uses that voice of his and those delicious words to drive you closer to your climax, his words getting cruder as his hips get sloppier, praising you to no end. he's not shy about what he thinks. he's incredibly straightforward about it. you're making him fucking horny? he'll tell you. you’re pussy is the best he's ever fucked? he'll tell you flat out while he's pounding into you. he thinks you look beautiful stuffed with his cock? he won't even hesitate. communication IS key isn’t it?

WINWIN doesn't ever tell you he's horny, instead he insists on watching a movie with you. but under the blanket, around 20 minutes into the movie, he brushes his hands against your thighs, inching closer to your pussy. you know what he's doing, but you let him. “baby…can you do me a favor” is what he says before you drop down to your knees on the floor and pull the blanket off him. you want him as much as he wants you. you make sure to suck him just right, I mean you've done this countless times, so you know how he likes it. he can't help but moan for you, letting out pretty noises that go straight to your core. he fists the blanket and sofa beside him, trying his best to not just fuck your mouth right there and then. eventually he cant take it anymore, standing up to fuck your pretty little mouth, making you gag as you take in his lengthy cock. “fuck babe- feels so good!!” he moans. you would reply, but your mouth is stuffed with his cock, twitching in your mouth signaling he's gonna cum. he cums deep far into your throat, telling you to say “ah” so he can see you swallowed it. winwin also can't help but drag you back onto the couch, fisting your hair and telling you “can you take me all?”. you look up at him with glossy eyes and he bites his lip. he flips you over and starts ramming into you. talkin bout “fuck- taking me so good baby” and “you like when i stuff you? when all you feel is my cock in you, making you feel so good?” he mocks at you. he knows you can't even speak right now because all you're doing is moaning into the pillow. he even laughs a little, seeing you take him down your best, just for him.

JUNGWOO is your sugar daddy. his life goal is to spoil and please you in a way nobody can ever do. he is currently in a meeting, but one of the black cards he gave you isn't working and he isn't answering your messages.. you start getting whiney and stomp to the meeting room not caring about all the other people in there. you slam the card in front of him “it's not working daddy!” you puff, he smirks and pulls you on top of his lap and continues the meeting. occasionally he kisses your neck. you whine and sigh moving around his lap trying to escape. “"hmm? what's the problem, kitten?" jungwoo replies as he continues to kiss your neck while talking to the people in the meeting, acting like nothings wrong. you sigh, getting more impatient, continuing to escape. as you continue to move you feel something hard under you.. you know exactly what it is. you look up at him with your glossy eyes and he looks at you smirking. you continue to move to try and tease him. you feel his chest rise up and down, soon enough you feel your mini skirt get pushed up under the table, his fingers moving your panties. you bite your lip as your wet pussy drips onto the floor on his shiny black shoes. you feel his middle finger pump into your sweet hole. you moan loudly causing everybody in the room to look at you, jungwoo looks down at you smirking “what's wrong kitten? everything good?” he teases “y-yes sorry daddy…” you mumble and moan softly. you whine quietly as he pulls his finger away waiting for the meeting to end. “shh my precious baby. we’ll continue this when we get home, be a good girl for daddy and let him finish this meeting and I'll make you squirt, kay~?”.

MARK comes back from practice hot and tired, and he can't help but think of laying down with you, pleasuring you. you'll be in your room, or the living room when he comes and lays next to you, desperately separating your legs. “baby, please” is all he says before you agree to him. he dives right in, lapping at your wet cunt, sucking a little when he feels your hands in his arm. “mmm” he groans into you, sending shivers through your body. he praises you as it makes him feel better, knowing he's making you feel so good. “such a pretty cunt, just for me” “gosh princess, you're soaking..” “taste so sweet…could be here all night long” is what he says to you. he loves looking into your eyes and seeing how your eyelids flutter with his every movement. when you cum, he offers for you to cum on his face (so he could take a picture and save it for himself). he dips his finger into it and tastes it, giving you puppy eyes as he thanks you. mark also gets riled up when he takes you out to go shopping, visiting cute shops. of course you insist on taking him with you to the fitting rooms, where you dress up in cute short skirts and ask what he thinks about them. “damn babe- he says as he cocks his head and stares at you up and down, rethinking if he should've let you wear that in front of him in the first place. you notice his hard cock as he hides it with his hands. “babe- I think we should..” he says before you change back and purchase the skirt. you guys are back home when mark immediately goes to the couch with his hands on the back of the couch behind him. you follow him there before undressing for him. “is this what you want?...” you tease him as you widen his legs apart, standing between them. he basically drools at the sight in front of him. “... you want me with nothing on? is that it?” you say. he feels like he's in a dream. you plop down on the floor, taking his hard cock in your mouth, licking it lightly just to tease him. “augh!!” he whines “please baby, suck it please. i need you so bad…” he's looking at you with those eyes as you give into his requests, sitting on his lap, and taking him all in.

XIAOJUN is near the end of his shower when your in your short pajama shorts and tank top lying on the bed. the aroma of gentle citrus fills the air as he meets you at the end of the bed, gazing at you as he’s in nothing but his briefs on. as he climbs on top of you, he’s whispering to you how much he wants you, no, how badly he needs you. he says he’s had a rough day and that u can help him. so you do. you lay on your back as he caressed your face before kissing your cheek sayin “thank u.” and that’s when he sticks his dick in your mouth. fucking your sweet mouth as he can’t help but moan out how good it feels. “oh my god… so so good my sweet girl. thank u, thank u”. hearing this you can’t help but start to touch yourself, how could you not. you close your eyes and just let the sweet sounds coming out his mouth fill ur ears, it so addicting, the way he can’t just shut up. and here you are, subtly crying and whimpering as he fucks into your mouth faster and faster, deeper and deeper. you think it can’t get better but it does. “let me do it for u my sweet princess…” is what he says before stuffing his fingers into your cunt, fingers slipping with ease as you and him come closer to your high. “let it out baby…” he says as you cum and he quickly takes his dick out your mouth and paints his cum on your pretty tits. “thank u, felt so good baby thank u”.

HENDERY loves imagining what he’ll do to you throughout the day then see you back at home looking all pretty for him. he’ll text you while he’s out about some shit like “make no plans tonight!” or “can we stay in tonight?” just so he can have the excuse to fuck you til you feel like you can’t walk. and on the days where he doesn’t come up with an excuse, he’s usually really flirty throughout the day, telling you how beautiful you are, how your outfit is cute…how you’re making him feel so stiff. you take him to the nearest empty room wherever you guys are. he immediately kisses you heatedly, pulling down his pants, cock so hard cause he knows you want him too. as you touch his cock, his tip aches, dripping precum and you’re barely doing anything yet. he’s groaning loudly like he wants to be caught, so you give him a slap and it tunes him down, but his cock just gets harder. by the time you guys are done, his mess is basically everywhere. all over you, the floor, himself.

RENJUN cant take it anymore when he sees you in the kitchen after dinner time, in those short shorts and your loose off the shoulder tee. you're bending down when he inhales sharply before getting up from the sofa and grabbing your hips. “yes renjun?” you say confused. “c'mere” he sighs, pinning you against the counter. you already know where this is going, but you want to make him beg for it. he touches your waist, looking you in the eyes, “touch me please…it hurts…”. before you can say anything he whines, hugging your waist as closely as he can to you. you reach around him, tugging at his hair. “mmmh..” he moans lightly. “please…” he says again. he drops down to his knees, pulling at your shorts, kissing your thighs as you feel the hotness of his breath, lips, and everything on you. you tug your panties down and he immediately dives into you, sucking on your wetness as he can't stop moaning from it. and you can feel him pathetically humping at your leg, going faster the more he sucks. you yank his head back away as his lips and chin are all wet, drool spilling from his mouth as he breathes hard. “want mommy to help?” you say as he instantly nods his head getting up to stand. at once you pull down his shorts and boxers, slipping his dick in between your thighs. he bucks his hips back and forth fucking your thighs. he cums all over your legs, giving you something to clean up. renjun also gets horny when he's laying in your lap while watching tv, and his view is well, your boobs and cant help but touch them over your shirt, signaling you to take it off. you do as he pleases because you love when he gets like this. he licks and sucks on your boobs as the pleasure hits you, making him love the way you grab onto him. onto his hair, arms, face, everything you can get your hands on. just know if you ever make him feel good, he’ll always return the favor.

JENO wakes up hungry. his dick hard from the recent dream he had about you. he shakes you to tell you, but you're asleep. he feels bad to fuck you when you are sleeping and dreaming so peacefully. he can't bring himself to do it, so he goes into the bathroom and pumps himself. but, he’s imagining it's you, which makes him moan your name softly. you're half asleep when you hear him calling your name. “f-f-fuck…y/n…” he would whine out. “jeno?” you answered him, you hear noises but not your name again. you get up and when you push the bathroom door open, boy is it a sight to see. he's holding his pajama shirt between his teeth, his abs fully exposed, body glistening a little from his sweat. his head is thrown back as one hand grips the counter, and the other holds his cock, tip red and leaking his pearly cum. he's so hard that he had to jack himself off again. and the way he has his glasses on makes you bite your lip as you sneakily walk in while his eyes are closed. you drop down, taking his tip in your mouth. he moans loudly now, knowing he's not gonna wake you up this time. you let go of his hips, giving him the signal to fuck your mouth, so he does, hands gripping your hair as he lets out few groans, breath heavy and panting as he cums in your mouth. jeno also loves getting right behind you while you're washing the dishes or doing something around the house. he loves grabbing your ass and massaging it while he kisses your neck from behind. you drop whatever you're doing because you know how good he makes you feel when he's sucking your wet cunt. lapping at it until you're overstimulated because he just can't get enough. and he forgets about how you must feel because he’s pretty much addicted to your pussy, eating away as his hand plays with your clit. at this point you feel like you can’t even stand anymore, whining at him “please- can't…” but he wants to see you undo just one more time.

HAECHAN is a bratty disobedient sub who LOVES to be punished. whatever rules you have for him, he breaks them and watches with a sly grin as you get annoyed because he knows he's in for a punishment that night. he wants you to absolutely break him and make him cry. dumb him down until he can't think or speak properly anymore, only choked out pleas and moans coming from him. he loves it when you spank him. have him count the spanks and of course he would purposefully mess up right at the end to rile you up so that he could start all over again. he could easily get hard from a couple spanks to his ass and he'll shamelessly cum all over your legs and his chest with a mewl. oh and he loves edging! edge him over and over again till he cries and begs you to stop and let him cum but don't since you know he's faking it. keep edging him until you finally let him cum but don't stop there! keep making him cum till he's overstimulated and his mind has turned to mush. “y-y/n! aah~!! im sorry m-“ before he could finish he slurred sentence you pulled his hair back making him face you. you spit in his mouth and make him swallow it. you could tell he was all fucked out as his eyes were fluttering and all he could do was moan your name. He knew he fucked up. he knew you weren’t even CLOSE to being done punishing him. but did he regret it?

nope~

JAEMIN loves treating you like the princess you are, he’ll do whatever you want him to do whenever. you’ll be out at dinner with friends when you grip his thigh to let him know you want him to fuck the shut out of you. and that’s when you end up in a nearby hotel, fucking in the bed, the shower, even the balcony. he pounds you so good, slapping your ass to take his big cock that you so badly wanted. “such a good girl, taking my cock like a pretty princess” he says while you’re a moaning mess. he would take a pic when you guys are finished, showing your leaking cum and his red tip in the frame (prob gonna jack off to it another time). and boy does he get jealous easily. when you guys are at parties and he sees you taking to another guy he’ll text you shit like, “does he fuck u good?” or “keep talking to him and i’ll fuck u extra hard tonight” and that’s exactly what he does. “jae-“ is all you can get out of you while your body is getting overstimulated by him. “you asked for it, so take it like the slut you are” he says while pounding his cock into you, pressing your body harder into the mattress, reaching your g spot over and over again. and when he cums, he paints your face, tits, ass with it and makes you lick it off his dick because you're his, but that just riles him up for another round. each time he gets rougher and harder, but when it’s over he spoils you like a mf. “do you need anything my love?”, “i’m sorry princess,” he says while kissing you everywhere, “you just feel so good cant help it”. the remainder of the night he’s massaging, kissing your body, and whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

YANGYANG and you are hanging out one day playing video games at his place when you guys both decide you're heading to bed. as he’s changing in his room, you walk in unknowingly, seeing him shirtless with his pajama pants. “oh I'm sorry!” you say expecting him to put a shirt on. when you turn back around he’s still shirtless…and staring at you. “yangyang…” you say and you stare at his bare torso, looking at the way his v-line is going so, so, low. you then realize that he’s pulling his pants down. “will you help me sweetheart?” he asks as his thick cock is now in your sight. he tilts his head to the side as you step closer, you bite your lip as you look at his hard, then at him. “go on, suck.” he orders. there’s no way you can’t listen to him right now. the way that he’s smiling and biting his lip, and how he’s combing your hair back already, and how he’s moaning as you take him into your mouth. “f-fuck baby!!” he gasps, not expecting you to take him all down like that. he also likes waking you up, getting in between your legs while you slowly wake up to him eating you out. “yangyang!” you moan as he pushes two fingers into you. “gonna take my fingers then my cock right princess?” he says. you nod your head, pulling at his hair as he pushes three fingers in now. your moans spill out as you cum onto his fingers. “good job sweetheart...” he praises you. “can you take my cock now?” he asks as he taps it on your stomach, biting his lip before asking, “you think it’ll fit?” your face gets hot at this. you look down to see how big he really is. “yes, please fuck me…” you beg. and so he does, ramming into your tight cunt, holding down your wrists beside you to stop you from moving so much. you feel the way he’s twitching in you and he sees the way your back is arching. “cum my sweetheart, let me fill you up.” he says as he lets out a final long moan, each other's cum spilling out of you.

CHENLE is always desperate as ever to please you…and to see how easily he can fall into your touch. always saying pathetic words to you like “please…want u to touch me”, and he says it so softly, stroking your fingers. you nod your head as he smoothly lifts his shirt up, revealing his bare chest to you. he loves being like this, under your touch knowing you like seeing him all helpless and soft. you kiss him teasingly, biting his bottom lip a bit, fingers trailing from his upper torso to his hardened cock. “mm~ want you to play with me so bad…” is all he says before you slide down his pants, fisting his cock, putting the tip in your mouth. he doesn’t last long until he cums on your lips, bringing you back onto his, tasting his own cum. chenle also gets riled up at night. he's trying to go to sleep, but he keeps inching closer to your body. he rubs his hard dick against you, head snuggled in the blanket a bit almost embarrassed. in response you turn over, seeing his face. so beautiful and all tense. eyes shut as his mouth hangs a little open, breathing harder than normally, even hearing little whines. “what do you need my lele?” you ask him. He doesn’t say anything, just brings your hips onto his lap, moving you so you're grinding against his cock. he moans loudly. you pull down his pajama pants and pull your panties to the side, sinking on his cock slowly. you fuck your self onto him, giving it to him good since he’s been good all day. and at this point he’s moaning so much. “such a good boy right my lele?” “doing so good for me hm? gonna fuck you again and again since you want it so bad” is what you say to him as he loudly whines, even tears run down his pretty little face, preparing himself for that overstimulation he’ll feel all night long.

JISUNG is content however you would like to have sex. you want it kinky? he’ll do whatever you ask for. you just want it vanilla? fine with him :)! however you want it he’s fine with it! you guys were currently making out on the couch when you felt his hand squeeze your neck slightly, giving you a signal he needs you. a minute later you're on all fours. lapping at his dick, tracing his veins, kissing the tip, literally anything to make him feel good. “fuck this.” he says as he turns your body around to pound into you. “fuck jisung!!” you let out. “m sorry…” he says as he slowly pumps into you, almost to tease you. “…i can't help it when your so tight for me, just for me.” then he’s really pounding into you. roughly like he’ll never get the chance to fuck you stupid like this again. hes fucking into your cunt faster and faster, he slaps your ass as he throws his head back, letting out a long groan. “all mine.” he says as he lifts your upper body so it’s against his chest. he holds you by your throat as he fucks into you deeper. as one hand is around your throat, the others flicking at your clit, rubbing it quickly. as your body becomes more tired and fucked out, your eyes begin closing, tears rolling down your cheeks as he lets you down, slapping your ass again before giving one last deep pound into you. “m gonna cum, okay?” he doesn’t even bother to wait for a response. he cums into you before watching as both your cum drips down your folds. “mine”.

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hallowxiu · 4 months

Text

How the Brothers Would Deal with MC's Mortality

Mammon:

You casually brought it up as a joke

Probably something like “i’m here for a good time, not a long time” or “why should i care what happens in 100 years? It’s not like i’ll be around to care”

Would probably confuse Mammon at first as to why you wouldn’t be around, but he would put the pieces together in the middle of the night when trying to sleep.

A whole, eyes snapping wide opening and flinging out of his bed kind of moment.

Mammon would worry himself sick

Yes, he knows humans can die, hell, he used to mock you for being so frail when you first came to the Devildom, but now?

Well, now things are different. How he feels about you is different

He's spending all his money on ways to keep you kicking longer.

Anything he can think of that’ll help, he’s buying it. Vegetables, fruits, protein powder, comfortable clothes, a nice pillow, vitamins, shampoos- anything. He has no idea where to start, so he just starts grabbing everything.

I mean, something will have to help, right?

If you notice he looks panicked, don’t point it out, it’ll only make it worse. Unless you want to be smothered to death from his affection and worry, then by all means. ;)

Leviathan:

Look, he can barely handle his favorite anime characters dying, so you? Yeah, no, that’s way too much.

Nothing actually popped up to remind Leviathan of your mortality, it was because of Satan throwing his books all around the house that did it.

Suddenly, it was all he could think about. How did he not think of this before?

Leviathan is no Satan though, and he’s certainly not Lucifer. Researching medical documents and trying to think of things to keep you alive longer are a little over his head. That being said, there were some things he could do.

Leviathan dove into his own research that would be within his realm of understanding, studying that humans who have more positive mindsets and who are less exposed to depressing forms of media, may live longer than the average person. This- this was something he could work with.

Suddenly, you were constantly being invited to his room, Leviathan having a variety of slice-of-life anime for you to watch with him, all of which had happy endings to boot. If an anime was even remotely depressing, he made sure to keep that out of reach.

Video games? He’s keeping it safe; he’s not risking anything here. If it’s not similar to Stardew Valley, Animal Crossing, Dreamlight Valley, or The Sims (which must be on a good day), you’re just not playing it. Kingdom Hearts if you’re lucky.

Satan:

Would do an insane amount of research

Likely overheard the topic on a news segment about the tragically short lifespans of humans before it all clicked together.

Satan, unlike the other brothers, has never experienced death before, so while it sounds silly, he never had reason to think of you dying.

Looks up humans who had long lifespans to see how he can implement those things into your lifestyle.

Books will be littered everywhere (although that’s not really unusual, but what is would be the topic of said books- The Long Lives of Humans, Human Lifestyle for Dummies 101, The Road to Human Immortality, etc. etc.)

This is when Satan learns just how easy it is for a human to kick the bucket.

Heart attacks, brain aneurysms, strokes, seizures, cancer, the list goes on and on and it’s starting to scare him. He didn’t know humans could just drop dead.

He’s going to start researching curses to increase your lifespan, or at the very least he’s going to make sure you’re careful as hell.

You won’t even get as much as a cut without him being aware of it; he’s going to hover around and mother hen the absolute shit out of you.

Try not to get too annoyed with him though, it all stems from good intentions.

Asmodeus:

He’ll be damned if his shopping partner for life is going to die on him.

Asmo isn’t stupid; if anything he’s pretty emotionally aware. He's known for a long time just how short the lifespan of humans is.

But still, it came in the form of a nightmare. One where he couldn’t save you, despite giving his best efforts. The way you died was tragic, long before your life should have ended.

This sent Asmo somewhat into a frenzied state trying to find things to keep you alive once he woke up.

Vitamins, vitamins, vitamins

Humans benefit from vitamins, right? Surely you’d benefit from Devildom vitamins then. If it’ll increase the lifespan of a demon, he sees no reason why it wouldn’t increase your lifespan.

Of course, it really only gives you nicer nails and shinier hair.

He’s 10x more intense with your morning and night routines.

He will be unloading all his facial creams on you, and telling you the benefits of each one and how it might add a few years to your lifespan.

You want to stay up late at night to finish homework? Maybe watch a movie? Yeah, no, not on Asmo’s watch.

Your ass is going to bed every night at 10pm, right along with him. You do realize you’ll be getting exactly 8 hours of sleep each night, too, right?

Beelzebub:

Regarding his trauma with Lilith, it came as no surprise when he started to fret over your well-being.

Poor Beel saw an article that discussed how tragically easy it is for a human to die. The cherry on top? How they could die from simply overeating.

Overeating isn’t a concept Beel is overly familiar with (because to him, it’s never overeating), and while he knew most people couldn’t keep up with his eating habits, he didn’t think it could actually cause harm to a human, let alone kill them.

Grocery trips are now a more anxiety-inducing event.

He’s suddenly paranoid that any of the Devildom food could and will kill you. Are you allergic to anything? How would you even know?

What if one day he serves you his favorite boiled dragonhead and you just drop dead at the dinner table?? No, that will never do.

There’s a list of Devildom foods that he knows for sure you can have without dying, but then comes the issue of portion control. How much is too much for a human?

Beelzebub swore he would never lose another loved one again, and it’s a promise he intends to keep. From now on, you will only eat what he deems safe.

You want to try a new food in the Devildom that you’ve never had before? You better get some seriously good convincing skills if you want him to cave in. For someone who only ever thinks with his stomach, he’s surprisingly stubborn.

Belphegor:

He’s still plagued with nightmares about Lilith, especially since he still thinks it’s his fault. Tack that on to the way he blamed you and the rest of the human race for it? The man is walking trauma.

Like Asmodeus, this was brought on by nightmares about you dying. Different from Asmo’s, however, you usually died by his hand. Naturally, considering your tumultuous history.

Belphegor, unlike his brothers, takes a different approach. He just doesn’t approach you at all.

What better way to keep your lifespan long than by staying away from you altogether?

Is it something that he wants? Of course not! But how can he trust himself to never hurt you again? To never kill you again.

He can’t.

So, he locks himself away in his room, sleeping most of the day or just avoiding the areas you normally like to lounge.

On a normal day, almost everyone in the household, including yourself, would notice this behavior change. However, since you’re now being cornered by all the brothers and their concerns about your lifespan, it’s easy for Belphegor’s absence to slip your mind.

This hurts Belphegor, but at the end of the day, he believes this is for the best.

Lucifer:

Lucifer didn’t need a reminder of your short lifespan; if anything, it’s something he’s thought plenty about.

Lucifer has trauma, we all know that much. After Lilith, he’s absolutely terrified of losing another loved one to something outside of his control.

And your lifespan is not something that’s out of his control. At least not how he sees it, anyway.

If you thought he was overbearing or overprotective before, brace yourself. He’s going to step it up several notches.

No excess of junk food, no more pulling all-nighters, no more sitting around the house gaming all day, and definitely no more overexerting your use of magic. He’s no fool, he knows the toll your magic could eventually take on your body.

Honestly? He wasn’t this bad until his brothers started to panic about your mortality, and though Lucifer told himself he was above such nonsense, he quickly found himself taking all the precautions they were taking (and then some).

Fortunately, if you find yourself becoming overwhelmed, they’ll be more than willing to listen to you (granted you take some of their concerns into account).

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a-little-unsteddie · 4 months

Text

cw: child abuse mentioned, child neglect

Steve, who was never allowed to play in the snow as a child because it was ‘too messy’. Steve, who stared longingly outside as he watched other kids play in the snow. Steve, wanting to build a snowman, or an igloo, or have a snowball fight, but was denied each and every time by his parents. “It’s uncouth, Steven.” “It’s dirty, Steven.” “You’ll just whine that you’re cold, Steven.” “No.” “No.” “No.” Until he stopped asking altogether, even as he stared out his bedroom window at the other kids playing. Steve who loves the snow but was never allowed to play. The one time he snuck out, he was brought inside being dragged by his ear and spanked until he cried.

And then some for crying at all.

Steve goes shopping with his mom and sees a snow globe and all but cries for her to get it for him. If he can’t have the snow outside, he wants to have a snow globe to have it inside. She lets him get it, but not without commenting ‘at least it’s not going outside’.

Thus starts a collection, of sorts. Whenever he sees a new snow globe, he makes his mom buy him it and because he never asks to go outside to play in the snow if she buys one, she keeps buying them for him.

He has around 10 or 15 snow globes by the time he’s a teenager and left alone more than he isn’t. He still doesn’t go out to play in the snow, even if he silently yearns to, because now he’s ‘too old’ to play out in the snow. Tommy doesn’t like being cold, so he never goes out, and Carol won’t do something if Tommy’s not there, so Steve doesn’t bother asking her to go outside.

Steve becomes friends with Dustin and the rest of the party, and he still doesn’t let himself play with them, even when Dustin begs him to. He passes on the same excuses to him as his mom told him, and the words feel like ash in his mouth, but he doesn’t just play in the snow like he’s aching to. It’s too cold, he’ll be wet and miserable later, he doesn’t want to get water all over the house.

Mostly, they’re excuses because he’s kind of worried he doesn’t know how to play in the snow. That somehow he’ll be bad at it.

Eventually, when he and Robin become friends and their first winter together happens, he tells her this secret fear. It’s right after the kids go out to play, and it’s just them, and he whispers to her.

“I don’t think I’ll be any good at it.”

Robin is confused, of course, because how can you be ‘bad’ at playing in the snow? He elaborates to her that he’s never played and she’s less confused but more angry at his parents, which he thinks is an over reaction and she insists he’s having an under reaction, whatever that means, and the moment passes. Steve is relieved to have revealed that much to her. He still doesn’t go outside, and Robin gets cold easily, so she doesn’t want to go outside, so they stay inside together.

He still collects snow globes, when he sees them. He buys one in front of the kids and brushes it off as a white elephant gift for a family thing, but displays it in the unused guest bedroom with the rest of the snow globes. It’s on the other side of the house from where every other guest bed is, so usually no one takes it, and so he knows his collection is safe.

Even if he keeps it secret, and plans to keep it secret forever, until the following winter, after the spring break from hell and after the grueling summer and cool fall brings the snow again and Eddie Munson is a menace in his life. He’s by far the most energetic person that he’s ever been friends with, all touches and open affection, it’s almost too easy to fall for him.

Eddie is nosy as hell and of course it’s him that finds the collection of snow globes.

“What’s this?” Eddie’s voice echoes from down the hall and it takes Steve a few seconds to process where his voice is coming from before he’s rushing down the hall and into the unused guest room.

Along the left wall, there’s a shelf that stretches from wall-to-wall filled with snow globes.

Embarrassment shoots through him, and he shrugs. “…snow globes.” he explains badly, wincing when Eddie turns towards him with an unimpressed look. It quickly morphs into concern because for some reason, Steve’s started tearing up and once the tears start they don’t stop.

“Hey, it’s okay, I’m sorry,” Eddie soothes, wrapping his arms around him tightly. “You don’t have to explain if you don’t want to, sweet thing.”

And the thing is, Steve does want to explain. Suddenly overcome with the urge to spill everything, in fact. So he does. He tells Eddie about his mom and dad refusing to let him play in the snow, the one time he got caught and got spanked for it, the snow globes, the fear of being bad at playing in the snow, still desperately wanting to despite it.

Through it all, Eddie holds him and listens. He hums occasionally to acknowledge what Steve is saying, but never interrupts him, for which Steve is glad because he doesn’t know if he’d be able to continue if he was stopped for any reason.

At the end of it, when Steve’s tears have dried, and they’re curled up in a pile of blankets on the couch, Eddie vows to teach him out to play in the snow. How to make a snow angel, a snowman, an igloo, a snowball — everything. He whispers these promises and plans into his ear, their hands intertwined where they lay on Steve’s lap.

And he follows through. With everything.

And the next time the kids beg him to play, he plays his part and says no, because he’s still anxious he’s going to do it wrong, Eddie throws a snowball at his back while he’s busy arguing with Dustin. And silence falls over everyone, waiting for Steve’s next move. Because he’s never given in, and no one’s ever pushed their luck like that.

Steve turns towards Eddie, narrowing his eyes at him.

“Oh, it’s on, Munson.”

The kids cheer and then it’s chaos of snowballs being lobbed at one another.

Later, when everyone is warming up with hot cocoa, and Steve is curled into Eddie’s side with a blanket tossed over their laps, Steve knows he’s never been happier to have met Eddie, who taught him how to play in the snow.

“Thank you,” Steve whispers to Eddie, who hums curiously, lazily looking at him from the corner of his eye. “For teaching me how to play in the snow.”

“Always, Stevie. I’ll always help you.”

And it sounds like a promise.

#is this anything?#idk #i wrote this on a whim #without rereading it #so if it doesn’t make sense i’m sorry #christmasish fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #cw child abuse #cw child neglect #steddie #stobin briefly #unsteddie writing

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astrozuya · 5 months

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☆ svt + subtle ways they show their love.

⊹ . ♡ pairings. svt hip hop unit x gn!reader. fluff. 0.8k wc. warnings: established relationship. ࿐ ♡ ˚ .

SEUNGCHEOL.

absentmindedly playing with your hands.

it’s no secret that seungcheol loves holding hands with you, but sometimes he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. when he’s talking to someone and you’re standing next to him, he’ll absentmindedly link pinky fingers with you and then eventually just take hold of your whole hand.

he does it often when he’s focused on other stuff, like if you’re watching a movie together. his eyes are fixed on the screen, but he has your hand in his, occasionally playing with your fingers or unconsciously drawing little patterns on your palm and stroking the back of your hand with his thumb.

massages whenever you seem stressed.

it’s like cheol has a sixth sense for when you’re tired or upset. he’ll silently sit by your side or stand behind you and place his hands on your shoulders. he’s great at giving massages, strong fingers knowing exactly how to work the tension out of your skin. he’ll use just enough pressure to make it feel good, all the while carefully gentle— he’d never want to hurt you. once he’s done and you’re sighing contentedly, he’ll hug you, murmuring, “d’you feel better now, baby?"

MINGYU.

letting you have a bite of food he’s preparing.

mingyu loves cooking for you. it’s one of his love languages, and you’re always the first person to get a taste of whatever he’s making— he adores the sparkle in your eyes when you take a bite of something yummy. plus he’s a sucker for your praise, and can’t help but smile smugly when you compliment his food.

he’ll call you over to the kitchen and feed you some, blowing on it to cool it down. he asks you how it tastes, carefully holding a hand under your chin just in case something drips from the spoon. when you tell him it’s good, the obvious pride on his face makes you laugh and call him cute.

holding hands while walking.

it’s more than wanting other people to know you’re together. mingyu just likes the warmth of your hand in his. whenever you cross a road, he’ll make sure you’re holding hands, and if you’re in a crowded place together he’ll keep a firm grip on your fingers so you don’t get separated from him.

his favorite thing is taking walks in the park together, holding your hand in his and swinging them together as you walk. his natural body temperature is hotter than yours too, so if you say you’re cold he’ll immediately use his warm hands to heat you up.

WONWOO.

worrying about your safety.

one of wonwoo’s most endearing features is how he’s always watchful and attentive to you, pulling you to the side of the road when cars pass, picking cat hairs off your clothes or brushing a few stray crumbs from the corners of your lips.

in particular, he’s careful to make sure that you’re safe all the time. when he sees you stumble even slightly on a pavement crack, he’s reaching for you in panic, a hand outstretched, always ready to catch you if you fall.

sending you pictures throughout the day when you’re apart.

whether it’s a picture of a cute cat he saw at work, a café that he went to with his friends or even the pretty leaves adorning the trees during fall, wonwoo loves to share small things about his day with you.

especially if the two of you are apart, he likes to send you pictures as a reminder that he’s thinking about you. even if you can’t experience these moments together, he can at least share them with you, and he would love it if you did the same.

VERNON.

unconsciously smiling whenever you smile.

even his friends have noticed how whenever you’re together, vernon’s eyes are always on you. watching you while you talk, eat, or simply do nothing— he can’t seem to be able to look away from you.

whenever you smile, the corners of his lips curve up into a smile too, fondness coloring his expression.

if the two of you are at a café with some friends, and you’re laughing at something they said, vernon will see you giggling and won’t even notice he’s started smiling too, his grin mirroring yours, until one of his friends teasingly points it out.

hugs from behind

vernon is quite comfortable when it comes to showing you physical affection. he likes being able to be in contact with you, even if it’s something small like having your shoulders touching or occasionally squeezing your hand.

his favorite thing to do is come up behind you and wrap his arms around you. he’ll simply hug you from behind and stand there, happy to have you in his arms, while you continue doing whatever you were doing. <3

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babiebom · 2 months

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Sebastian NSFW Alphabet

A/N: the actual love of my life is next, be prepared for the others to either come over the next couple of weeks or the next couple of days depending on how fast I do them.

Tw: nsfw content(sex, kinks, cum, ome mention of piss yk the usual) cursing

Wc:idk

Stardew Masterlist NSFW Alphabet Masterlist

C- Cum (anything to do with cum,basically)

If you asked him to his face he’d just say that he’s okay with whatever you want but in truth he wants to ruin you completely. I think he would be very awkward and unwilling to admit that he wants to cum inside you and on you. Like he wants to go until you’re covered and filled with his cum. It’s probably a possessive thing.

E- Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

I think I’ve talked about this before? Like he’s either a virgin or he’s had one or two people that he’s slept with before. I do think he and Abigail have hooked up at least once but stopped at some point because something happened. But I do lean more towards him being a virgin right now

He doesn’t really know what he’s doing but he learns quickly and never shows that he’s clumsy with it. Acts like he’s just learning what you like in order to pretend that he’s cool calm and collected. Inside he’s freaking out because he doesn’t know what he’s doing and is VERY worried you’re not enjoying yourself.

G- Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? Etc)

He would want to be funny and relaxed in the moment, but he is quite serious because he’s kinda insecure, and wants everything to be good so he can’t really relax and be a little funny until you’re far into the relationship.

H-Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

His pubic hair is dark like his hair(I know people think he’s a redhead like his mom but I do like that his hair is dark.) he will let it get messy if he’s single but once he starts dating he trims it VERY low. Like he’s not bald but is very short in order to make everyone comfortable.

I-Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

I don’t think he’s very romantic unless you ask him to make more of an effort. I don’t think he’s entitled or even open with asking for sex, but you can tell when he wants to do the do. He’s more like….idk how to describe it. It’s just he’s like more touchy and cuddly when he’s horny? If you ask him to be more romantic he’ll do the candle thing probably or something nerdy but cute.

J- Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

One of the horniest men to ever exist ngl. Dude probably jacks off at least once a day. Let’s face it, he’s an antisocial emo, who sits in his room all day because he doesn’t want to leave it and to further that point he even has a job that requires him to not leave it. Seb has so much alone time and so many naughty thoughts that he has to rub one out in order to even concentrate properly. Luckily no one really bothers him so he has only been caught probably once and as a teenager.

K- Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Lord Jesus this man has too many to count so I might go top five. He likes role playing and dressing up for SURE. Wear that maid costume, or if you’re particularly dominant out HIM in a maid costume. Let him wear his Wizard cosplay like dude is DOWN. Bdsm. Literally(I say this word way too much)as a whole he likes bondage, he likes sadism and masochism(he will let you choose) he’s into dominant and submissive roles(again he will let you choose) it’s just FUN for him. He likes choking, and probably has a body worship kink (both ways), and overstimulation. Used to edge himself on accident and it became a thing for him

L-Location (favorite places to do the do)

In his room, or near the lake. He likes it most on his bed because after it smells like you, and he’s always dreamed of fucking a significant other in his bed during one of his jerk off sessions, and literally having you in his bed is a dream come true. Also on the couch in his room, because it’s kinda depraved. Like you two were so wrapped up in each other that you couldn’t make it to the bed that’s a couple of feet away.

He likes the lake because it gives off the exhibition vibe while honestly being kinda private. Like he’s usually the only one by the lake at a certain time (unless Demetrius comes and ruins the vibes for him even if he’s usually on the other side of the lake) and living on the mountain top means that no one is really around to snitch on him. Like his mother is too wrapped up in her husband and his sister is too wrapped up in her experiments and robots to even notice that he’s railing you by the lakeside.

M- Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

I feel like I’ve said this for EVERY character so I’m gonna try to reword it from just *you*

His mind gets him going. Like he’s always thinking of something dirty, even if he’s doing something completely innocent. Like he can be working and all of a sudden his mind is wandering because his work is so boring that it can’t help but fill the boredom with things he finds fun. Like video games and fucking you until the both of you are on the verge of passing out.

N- No (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

Like the last letter, I feel like i say it a lot for each character but like anything that’s too gross. Like I think this man might go pretty far. Would probably even try piss stuff once if you really wanted it. So like anything that’s farther than that is a no.

O- Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Would say his preference is giving but in reality it’s receiving. He loves giving head, don’t get me wrong. But he will never turn down you giving him head EVER. There’s just something about how the comepletely falls apart when your mouth is on him. He could cry from how thankful he is that you’re willing to do this for him.

Giving head I would say he’s decent and get better every time. He strives for greatness(lmao like he’s an elite employee) when it comes to getting you to cum. He will always try new techniques in order to get you cumming quicker each time. He wants you to feel the best he can make you feel.

Q- Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc)

LOVES THEM. COMPLETELY!!!! Wants to be in you all day every day, and if quickies are the way to do it before he can have you all to himself, well, guess you’re gonna have a lot of quickies throughout the day. Oh well!

R-Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks?)

Like I mentioned earlier, Seb has a bit of an exhibitionist kink, it’s more that he wants to show off that he gets to fuck YOU. Like look at my hot significant other, rather than showing off his skills or himself. He doesn’t really want people to watch at all(unless it’s like Sam who he’s cool with watching) but like he does wish that people knew that he somehow bagged the hottest person alive(you). So he’ll fuck you in semi public. Like at the lakeside in the middle of the night, or in his room when he knows everyone is awake

And yes he is always game to experiment. If it’s going to make the experience better for both of you, his thought process is: why not? Willing to try almost everything once.

T- Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

I think he probably owned like a vibrating cock ring or a pocket pussy or a tenga egg or something while he was single. Now that he has you he rarely uses those things anymore unless you want him to incorporate it into sex.

Will buy toys for you, and if you buy toys for him he won’t object. Likes using them during sex, even if he doesn’t think y’all need them.

U- Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Likes to tease a decent amount, especially the more confident he gets. Will tease and laugh at you(in a mean but good way) if you’re begging or crying or something. Gives in if you beg just right though. He’s a menace not evil.

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moonstruckme · 2 months

Note

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGeSt5hWJ/

this but with bestfriend james please i beg of you 🫡

No begging necessary ml <3

bestfriend!James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 659 words

“Oh my god,” you grunt, trying to shift James off of you, “you weigh more than a truck.”

“It’s all muscle, I’ll have you know.” He grins, brown coils falling down over his forehead. “Or it was, until the donuts you coerced me into.”

Coerced is an interesting term for it. You’d only pointed out the donut shop during your walk to the gym, and James had immediately detoured inside and wharfed down three bear claws blaming you all the while.

You strain a bit more to try and turn yourself over. James’ hand is warm and familiar on your thigh, and he’s kindly keeping it where you’ve got it pinned instead of trying to struggle like he’s supposed to.

“I don’t know if I can flip you,” you say. “You’re too heavy.”

“Well, there’s not much point in doing this if I help you,” he points out. “You’ve got it, love. Focus on using your core.”

You huff frustratedly, but tighten the muscles in your abdomen. James’ hold on your legs tightens too, and slowly, you roll him over onto his back, your legs straddling his waist.

“Alright!” You beam, thrilled with yourself. “That was fairly smooth, wasn’t it?”

James grins at you. “Not bad,” he agrees. “Now we’ve just got to work on getting it the first try.”

“Yeah, whatever.” You roll your eyes, too happy with your success to think of future improvements just yet.

Some of James’ curls have become trapped beneath him by your maneuvering, and you bring your hands to his head, lifting it to free them. You press one palm tenderly to his scalp.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I? When I rolled…” James takes both your wrists in his hands, and you narrow your eyes at him warily. He looks smug.

“My head is fine, but you won’t be if you let people out of your hold this easily.” He makes a disappointed tsking sound. “You’re supposed to hit me in the face or something, not play with my hair.”

“I thought we were done,” you say.

James only extends his arms above his head. Your hands go along with them, and you follow like a puppet, stretching over his torso.

“Is that what you plan to tell your mugger?” he asks jovially. He’s so close you can feel his breath hitting your chin. You hope you drip sweat onto his face. “You think you can just flip him over and then he’ll forfeit and leave you be?”

You laugh, trying to pull your wrists from his hold. It only serves to get you closer to him, your body all but collapsing on top of his as you squirm. James dips his head to blow a raspberry onto the spot on your neck where he knows you’re ticklish, laughing when you shriek.

He finally lets you go. Your hands go to his chest and his to your waist, helping you up when your body is still limp and useless for giggling. You won’t let yourself glance around to see what sort of looks you’re getting after that ear-shattering screech, but you’re sure the heat emanating from your face says enough of your embarrassment.

“I might actually hit you in the face now,” you threaten. James doesn’t even have the decency to look the least bit worried.

“Right.” In one easy movement, he’s flipped you over again. You spit a bit of hair out of your mouth as he smiles down at you, the sleeves of his dark shirt tight around his biceps and a light sheen of sweat shining on his face. You can tell from the way his thighs are straining that he’s working to keep from sitting on you with his full weight, but his hips still feel warm and solid on top of yours, and it’s making you think of things you’d better not. He claps a big hand on your hip encouragingly. “Okay, let’s try that again.”

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writingsbychlo · 3 months

Text

WHITE XMAS | mattheo riddle

summary; mattheo comes to spend christmas with you and your family.

word count; 15,245

notes; I have never played chess in my life, chess girlies don't come for me. pic was made by @finalgirllx!

“So, Matty, what are your Christmas plans?” You murmur, head bopping lightly to the beat of the tacky Christmas CD that was playing over the Common Room speakers. “Will Tom be coming home for Christmas?”

“Are you kidding?” Mattheo muttered, cursing as he readjusted his grip on the dwindling charcoal in his fingers once again, peeking another glance over the edge of his tatty sketchpad to you. “Why would he?”

“Because it’s nice! It’s Christmas, it’s a time for family to come together.”

“Not mine.” He blew a curl from his eyes, pausing. Tilting his head, he narrowed his eyes as his gaze flickered between the page, and a very specific spot on your shoulder. “Tom has escaped, he doesn’t have to come home for the annual Riddle-family Christmas Horror Show.”

That brought a frown to your lips, and he tutted. “Keep smiling.”

“You’re not even drawing my face right now.” You snipped back, and the edges of his lips tipped up in a smirk, focusing as he dragged the tool in his hand over the paper, back and forth. Soft scraping filled the room, along with the general chatter of the few other students dotted throughout the room, background noise with their undecipherable muttering and the music. “You don’t like Christmas?”

“Why would I? Christmas magic never existed for me. The very day I first asked about Santa, Tom pulled me aside and told me he wasn’t real. Warned me not to ask about him.” With a sigh, he dropped the notepad to sit flat in his lap, resting the charcoal on the side table, and shrugging. When he wiped his forehead, he unknowingly left a smear of grey over his skin. “I was stupid, and four. I asked my father, and he laughed at me and told me not to be pathetic. Everything I got in this world was hard-earned, and came by his generosity, and his alone.”

“Matty…”

“Don’t pity me. Can’t love what I never had.” Despite his brave words, there was an underlying emptiness to his voice, the kind that formed over years of hurt finally losing its bite. The way scarred flesh didn’t hurt, but they never stitched up quite right.

You whisper, standing up and making your way over to him. He looked up at you now as you stood before him, hand raising to wipe the smudge away with your thumb. “It’s that bad?”

He only hummed. “I get to parade around, playing the ‘seen but not heard’ son as my father cashes in on a big business day. It’s such a great time to ‘make connections’. Normally I’d have Tom with me, and we’d spend the days counting down until my birthday, and his. On the 30th, we’d sneak out and get two cupcakes, right between. He’ll be back for New Year's, my father is making him, but I can’t begrudge him staying away for Christmas.”

“You make me so sad sometimes.”

“Can’t have that, can we?” He murmured, leaning up to pinch at your waist lightly, a spot he knew was ticklish. You jerked away from him with a gasp of a laugh, smacking his hand as you went. “Don’t worry. I’ll be at the Malfoy Christmas Eve Ball. I’ll see you all then, I can look forward to it.”

“No.”

“No?” He echoed, a smile forming on his face, and he tugged you in closer, arms wrapping around your thighs. “The fuck do you mean no?”

“I mean, that won’t do. Your Christmas plans make me want to commit a festive crime. Hit your dad with a sleigh, or something.” That brought real laughter from him, a loud burst, his eyes closing a little as he rested his forehead on your stomach, his shoulders shaking. “I have a big family Christmas. All my aunts and uncles and cousins and their kids. There’s going to be at least twenty of us.”

“Now you’re just rubbing it in.” He muttered, shaking his head, frowning up at you falsely.

“No, I’m inviting you, if you’d let me finish.”

His expression shifted then, from teasing and humour to vulnerability and disbelief. Pretty brown eyes shone with shock as he stared up at you. Cupping his jaw, you smoothed your thumb along his cheek. “You’re what?”

“Come with me for Christmas Day, Matty. I cannot, in good conscience, enjoy my day, knowing how you’re spending yours.”

“You really want that? Your family wouldn't mind?” Hope raised in his voice, not a hint of denial in sight, and he smiled shakily when you nodded.

“What are friends for, huh? I promise it’ll be okay. My parents are a ‘the more, the merrier’, type.” He ran his tongue over his bottom lip, thoughts spinning in his gaze, before he pulled you even closer. Pressing his face against your stomach, your hands slipped to his hair instead, running through the curls. It was the same way you did whenever you stumbled across him smoking after a nightmare, or sulking after a letter from home. “We have a floo. You can step right in. I promise, you’d be welcome. Please spend Christmas with me, Mattheo.”

“Okay.” He mumbled, breath hot against your navel through your shirt as he breathed the word against you.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He finally turned his head again, resting his cheek there instead, looking away toward the fireplace, throat bobbing. With a final squeeze, he loosened his hold. “I’d really like that.”

“I’ll write down my address for you, and give you all the details.” Leaning down, you pressed a kiss to his messy hair, and he was smiling faintly as you pulled away. “It’ll be great, I promise.”

“I don’t doubt.” Finally, he let go of you fully, and took a bracing breath. Resetting himself, he schooled his features, picking up his sketchpad again and diverting his gaze to it. “Alright, go sit back down. Try and remember your pose, I want to finish this before dinner.”

Rubbing at your eyes tiredly, you were never awake this early, even the children were still snoozing, only one or two other members of your family had woken. Your father had always been an early bird, forcing your mother to be the same, and the two were tinkering in the kitchen, quietly chatting.

One of your grandmas had woken, made her way downstairs, and promptly fallen asleep in the rocking chair next to the fireplace after lighting it with a flick of her wrist. You were sure one of your uncles— maybe a cousin, too— had been wandering upstairs, but perhaps, they’d gone back to bed.

Suppressing a yawn, you jumped when the soft pop of the fireplace sounded, flames changing momentarily from amber and orange to a truly festive shade of green. Stumbling through it was Mattheo.

He didn’t look nearly as tired as you did. More so, he looked alert, in every sense of the word. His eyes were wide, one hand clenched into a tight fist around a bouquet of poor flowers, the other tugging nervously at his collar. He was wearing a red Christmas jumper, a set of tasteful white snowflakes sewn in a band across the chest. His usual black jeans, the best pair he had, seeing as they had no tears or frays, and white sneakers that had been polished to a shine. Possibly, never even worn outside.

“Matty.” You mumbled, and he stepped down from the warmth of the fireplace as the flames flickered back to normal, your grandma merely offering a soft snore beside you both. Mattheo flinched again, like one of Theo’s pranks when he jumped out from behind doorways to scare you all in the dark, and you raised a brow. “You’re up early. Therefore, you naturally called me and woke me up early too.”

“Sorry. I had… restless sleep. I was anxious.”

“Aw,” You smiled, reaching out to pinch his cheek. “You’re all excited like… oh. Well, like a kid on Christmas Day. Huh.” The joke washed over you in waves, still not quite awake enough to be aware of your own words, and he gave you a flat look. “Cute sweater.”

“I just bought it.”

“Why?” You smiled, and his lips twisted like you’d asked a stupid question. He followed you as you guided him from the lounge to the hall, shuffling behind you quickly. “Because you said you would be wearing one!”

“You didn’t have to buy a—” Your words shuttered as his lips smoothed back out, face neutral, but a flicker of uncertainty passed through his eyes. Mattheo didn’t own a Christmas jumper. It made sense, he’d never had reason to, but it didn’t stop your heart from breaking a little. “Come on. Take off your shoes, and let’s go get something to drink. Maybe a really strong coffee, hm?”

He toed off his shoes, neatly stacking them onto the rack beside the various others, some left in a pile. It wasn’t like him, Mattheo left his things everywhere; the group was always picking up after him, but it was clear that he was doing the most to be on his very best behaviour.

Taking his free hand in both of your own, you squeezed it, bringing his attention to you. “Mattheo?”

He hummed, tugging at his collar as he stared beyond you to his reflection in the hallway mirror. Smoothing your hands over his shirt, you patted it down, his eyes dropping to you as you pushed his hand away.

“Mattheo. You’re worrying. You’re supposed to be here to have fun, not be the picture-perfect son like you would at home.” His lips pressed together, like he didn’t believe you, as he sighed through his nose. “You’re perfect just as you are, okay? You don’t need to worry. Everyone knows you’re coming, and they know who you are. I’ve been writing about you all in my letters home for years. Your name isn’t a surprise, and you’re welcome here. Okay?”

“You’re sure?”

“Mattheo Riddle, have I ever lied to you?” Your teasing finally brought a smile to his face. “Have I ever given you a reason not to believe me?”

“No.” He finally conceded.

“Then trust me, hm?”

He rolled his eyes, but his shoulders dropped. With one final glance at his reflection, he turned away, closing the page on those fears and ready to proceed with the day. After only a second of hesitation, he took your hand, squeezing for comfort as you guided him back through the house.

His fingers flexed around your own as you approached the kitchen, your mother laughing gently at some joke your father had told. Both of them turned to face you as you stepped in, tugging Mattheo behind you.

“Mama, Dad, my friend is here. This is Mattheo.”

Shaking his hand free from your own, he smoothed his palm over his jeans before shakily stepping forward and offering his hand. Your mother only smiled as your father shook it firmly. “Good to meet you, our daughter writes about you in her letters a lot.”

“Dad.”

“Oh, it’s true! More than almost anyone else.” Your mother cooed, your exasperated sigh doing nothing to dull their teasing as your mother only pinched his cheek instead of taking his offered hand. “Oh, you’re so tall! She never mentioned that.”

“Mama, stop teasing him!”

“I’m doing no such thing!” She scolded you, tutting as she peered over his shoulder. “It’s good to find a tall man. Like your father, they can reach the fresh stuff on the storage shelves that they don’t want you to get at when you go to the store.”

“Oh, is that all?” You muttered, crossing your arms as she went back to fussing over Mattheo. Your father rolled his eyes, sipping from his ‘World’s Best Daddy’ mug that you’d made when you were five. He saved it for every Christmas Day, like tradition.

“These are for you, Mrs—”

“Oh!” Your mother took the bouquet, admiring them, and not even seeming to notice the slightly crumpled stems that had been his substitute stress-ball. “They’re beautiful, look at them.”

She presented them to your father, who nodded approvingly, and Mattheo turned just long enough to glance over his shoulder. He was bewildered, and red-cheeked.

“Alright, have I sufficiently embarrassed you dear, or should I keep going? I haven’t even told you what a handsome young man he is yet—”

“Oh, I think you’ve done plenty.” Your droll tone made your parents snicker to one another, and she turned away to put the flowers in a vase. Reaching forward and grabbing a fistful of Mattheo’s jumper, you tugged him back to your side. “Is anyone else awake yet?”

“Only your grandma.”

You made a noise of agreement, grateful for the early rise if it meant being able to ease Mattheo into the crazy rush. Leaving his side for just a moment, you took two mugs from the cupboard, your early call also meaning you got the first pick, choosing the best ones and setting them out. Claimed, for the day.

Your mother arranged her gift, showing them off proudly before disappearing to the dining room to find a spot for them on the table. Your father followed, and only a moment later, Mattheo was sidling up close to your side as you worked.

“How’re you holding up so far?” You smirked, and he shook his head, a chuckle tumbling quietly from his lips.

“I think if all your family react like that to me, I have nothing to worry about.”

“Why wouldn't they?” You didn’t give him a chance to disagree, stirring the hot drinks before you and tapping the spoon on the rim. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Mattheo.”

“Some people would disagree.”

“Some people also like pickles.” Your nose scrunched up, and you sought out the pot beside the biscuits, popping the lid and sprinkling some marshmallows onto the steaming surface of each one. “Clearly, their decisions can’t be trusted.”

Turning to him and pushing a mug over the counter, he scoffed. Leaning down until your noses were almost brushing, he smirked. “I like pickles.”

“You’re gross. I’ve seen you drink from a random cup the morning after a party.” Taking your mug, you turned away from him, leaving him spluttering behind you as he grabbed his own and followed.

“First of all, that was one time. Secondly, I knew it was my drink! I’m the one who left it there!”

“Uh-huh.” He pinched at your hip in response falling back into step beside you, and allowing himself to be led into the snug. Smaller, cosier, with only one couch and two worn armchairs, it was one of your favourite rooms in the house. A wobbly bookshelf stood in the corner, and a chessboard sat out before you on the coffee table, a freshly reset game. The rest of the board games were stacked on a shelf. “Wanna’ talk about how the day will go? Put any last fears to rest.”

He glanced up, running his finger over the Queen on the board as he sat down, nodding, thankfully. “I’d like that.”

Settling onto a cushion on the floor instead, on the other side, you turned the board around. Picking up a pawn, you made your first move, and a spark went off in his eyes. “We’ll start with breakfast, when everyone wakes up. Mum loves making a big breakfast, she’s a breakfast foods kind of person. There’s a lot of stuff, a lot in the fridge. It’ll remind you of Hogwarts, but better.”

He smiled at that, picking up a pawn himself and shifting it across, playing the board as he waited to see what moves you’d make. Mattheo was surprisingly patient, and good at playing the long game. He never made a real move until there was more going on across the board.

“Then, we’ll open gifts. The kids will be desperate by then, so we’ll all cram into the sitting room. If we’re lucky, we’ll be able to pinch a proper seat.” You shrugged, fingers brushing over your pieces, before plucking one up and making your next move. “After that, we do some baking. We’ll make things for dessert, as well as treats to have throughout the day. My mum has a big flow chart of all the cooking for the meal, most stuff we prepared over the last few days, but it all gets heated up and cooked after that.”

“Lot of kitchen work.”

“Oh, yes. Traditionally, all the ladies will do the cooking, and we leave all the washing up and cleaning for the men.” You gave him a wink, watching him play the board while grinning.

“Christmas Day chores, what a treat.”

“While food cooks, they’ll be… something. Maybe movies, I think one of my uncles put a quiz together, so maybe that. Something fun. Then we’ll eat.” You found yourself stuck already, watching as he already managed to be pinning you down across the checkerboard. You considered your play for a while, and he sipped at his hot chocolate, a pleased noise on his lips as he licked foam from his top lip. “Then…”

“Then?” He said, and finally, you decided what to do, shifting to knock down one of his pieces and snatch it up with a smirk. That smirk didn’t last long, not as you saw his expression. Like you’d fallen right into his trap. He moved quickly, striking like a viper as he swiped up without consideration, and you swore as he took a piece in return.

“Then… I don’t know. The rest of the day is mostly lazing around, letting the food settle, eating more food…”

“Can’t wait.” He whispered, and the moment you made your next play, he was grinning over the rim of his mug. He crossed the board, knocking down your Queen, and beaming as you scowled. “Checkmate.”

“Fuck you.”

“You lasted longer this time. That was, what, twelve moves? I’m impressed.”

“Bite me.” You scoffed, and he flashed his teeth, snapping them in a bite playfully, and you stuck out your tongue.

“Don’t be a sore loser.” Mattheo taunted.

“Didn’t you once punch MacLaggen after a Quidditch match because—”

“You be quiet or I’ll come over there and make you be quiet.” As his eyes shone with mirth, you flipped him off, gulping at your hot chocolate and letting the half-melted, gooey marshmallows sit on your tongue. “Much better.”

“I don’t like you.”

“Oh, now, don’t believe a word she says.” You jumped, turning to the doorway as your cousin poked her head through, and Mattheo stiffened instantly. “She told me she wished I fell off my broom last year, just because I won the little toy inside the last Christmas cracker.”

“Jess!” You beam, lighting up a little as she stepped into the room, her youngest following her inside. The girl who came behind her was only two, still dressed in her striped pyjamas, eyes half open and curls pressed from the side she’s slept on. “Mattheo, meet my least favourite cousin.”

“Now, now. That’s just rude.” She beamed, letting go of her daughter's hand as the youngest began to toddle over towards you on shaky little stomps, letting you scoop her up and place a big kiss on her cheek. As you fawned over her child, Jess reached out, shaking Mattheo’s hand as he sat nervously. “Nice to meet you, Mattheo. I’ve heard a lot about you. Better than the Italian one, that’s for sure.”

“You’ve met Theo?” His shock was evident. Jess scoffed while you just laughed and tickled your baby cousin’s stomach.

“Once, at family week. He happened to bump into us at Hogsmeade. Terrible flirt, isn’t he?”

“You were knocked up at the time, too.” You snickered, and she looked fondly at her daughter.

“Oh, that didn’t stop him.”

“Sounds like our Notty-boy,” Mattheo whispered, turning to look at you. When the girl on your knee looked up at him curiously, he wiggled his fingers, “Hello there.”

She only giggled, turning away to hide her face in your neck.

“You two coming out for breakfast?” Jess sighed, calling her daughter back to her side as you put her down, and she scooped the girl up onto her hip. She turned to Mattheo, mischief written onto her features, “There are some people who want to meet you.”

Standing up and brushing off dirt from the floor, he followed suit, your cousin leaving ahead of you both. Taking your mug in one hand, Mattheo ruffled his hair in the other, patting down the untamed stands.

“What are you— stop doing that.” Grabbing his arm, you didn’t fail to notice the light tremors from his nerves. “You’re squashing all your curls.”

“I should’ve styled my hair this morning. Your family will think I’m a mess.”

“It’s Christmas Day, and you woke me up before I could even wash my face. Trust me, you’re fine.” He only frowned, reaching his hand up towards his hair again, and you pulled it down. Running your hands down his arm, you clasped his hands, reassuringly. His fingers folded around your palm in return. “Ruining your pretty hair won’t make them like you any more, but it’ll make me like you less!”

“You think my curls are pretty?”

Heat flushed your cheeks as he stared at you, curious. He’d always been so pretty, and it never failed to astonish you how all your favourite parts of him were the parts he disliked the most. “Shut up.”

His lips twitched, but he refrained from replying, glancing at the door instead. In a bold move, he took a step toward it, evidently deciding he was ready, as he guided you both out of the room and toward the growing bustle of voices.

Only moments after you emerged, he was swept into the craziness; aunties and uncles and cousins descending on him, all asking a thousand questions a minute. They wanted to know about classes, and where his jumper was from, and if he preferred roast beef or roast turkey. He was taken from you, leaving you to hold both mugs and chuckle at the flustered look on his face.

By the time you’d refilled them both and returned to the pandemonium, he sagged with relief upon seeing you. Kids were already mithering about opening presents, raving madly about Santa, and he was able to slip away from the hustle and back to you.

“Before you chastise me for leaving you,” You pressed the mug into his hands the moment his jaw dropped, pre-empting his words, “I refilled your hot chocolate. I stood no chance, they’re animals, and you were the newest squeaky toy. Luckily, the young have saved you, by nagging about the presents.”

“I’ll let you out of it this time.” He shook his head, serious like he was really mad, even as he leaned in to kiss your temple. His mouth moved to your ear, “Your family are very friendly.”

“They were excited to meet you. You’re fresh meat. How are you at pub quizzes? Because they’ll be all over you.”

He chuckled, and before he could say anything else, your mother was making the call to start cooking breakfast. Just like that, the room seemed to clear of men, all of them slipping away at the word ‘cooking’, taking the kids with them. Only the grandparents were left in the living room, excused from all chores, naturally.

“You can go with the other men if you’d like.”

“I’d rather stay and cook with you… is that okay?” He glanced towards the kitchen, and smiled when you nodded.

“Course you can. Come on.” Leading him to the kitchen, your aunts and cousins were already bustling around, working wherever your mother assigned them to. Your mother snapped her fingers to you, pointing towards the griddle that was heating up, all the ingredients for fluffy pancakes laid out alongside.

Guiding Mattheo over to it after washing your hands, his cheeks went red as he stood before the bowl. “I, uh, maybe didn’t think this through. I don’t know how to cook.” He whispered, embarrassment tinging his voice as everyone around you both seemed to be getting on at speeds.

“That’s okay, why don’t you mix the batter while I add the ingredients, hm?”

That brought his sweet expression back, letting out the breath he was clinging to, and pulling the bowl towards himself. You added each ingredient, weighing them up and measuring them out as he stirred the bowl continuously, switching between arms as he tired. On and on you went, until you had enough butter to make pancakes for an army, and he was eating leftover chocolate chips from the bag while you greased the griddle pan.

He was watching eagerly as your cousin Ki grilled bacon, stacking up a pile that had his entire attention.

“Mattheo, dear, do you want a piece of bacon?” Your mother snapped him from his dazed watch, and his jaw dropped open, the tips of his ears going red.

You snickered, nudging him where he stood beside you, still clutching the bowlful of batter. With a shy nod, his mother picked up a piece handing it to him with a wink, and he beamed upon receiving it.

Tearing off a chunk with his teeth and chewing, he turned to face you, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “I think your mother likes me.”

“I told you she would.” You said, a happy sound leaving him at the confirmation. Once the tray was ready, you grabbed for a ladle, and he held the bowl securely, the two of you working to set off the first batch of pancakes to cook. He shuffled every step with you, and while they cooked, you began to work on the second batter batch. “You want to try this time? I can help you.”

“Alright.” He nodded, setting the bowl back on the scale like he’d seen you start with. Scanning his hands over the ingredients, he reached for the flour first, holding it up in question. Sieving it through until you told him to stop, he smiled to himself as he watched the dust fall perfectly. A sprinkle of sugar, and a dash of vanilla essence, and then he circled in the centre with a spoon to create a well.

“Alright, make sure you tap it lightly on the edge. You don’t want bits of shells in the food.”

He was so focused it was almost adorable, your heart skipping a beat as you watched him go, tapping the egg on the bowl so delicately your heart ached. “Like that?”

“Maybe a little harder.”

And then, he cracked it down with another force that the rim of the bowl went halfway through the egg, mangling the whites and the yolks, with splinters of shells going into the food. “Shit. I’m sorry.”

“S’okay, we can just pick the shell out and try again. Don’t worry.”

Dipping your fingers into the flour to pick out the pieces of shell, you discarded the broken egg to the side, and he helped fish out all the pieces, meticulously checking there was none left. Handing him a new egg, he eyed his cautiously now.

“C’mere, let me show you.”

Guiding your hand down his arm to cup over his, you guided his hand down with the right amount of pressure, cracking the egg enough to slip your nails in and pull it apart. Taking his other hand too, you huddled in close, your hands over his by the bowl as the pair of you pressed to one another, pulling the egg apart and letting it fall into the well.

“Perfect, see. You’re a natural.”

He turned to look down at you, eyes scanning over your face, a silent moment you didn’t know how to read, before he was turning back to it. You helped him with the second one, and then he did the third and fourth alone, cheering with so much enthusiasm about it that several of your relatives celebrated with him.

He whisked the batter up, flipping the ones already cooking, and stacking them up on a plate before ladling out the batter he’d made. By the time they were finished, he was so eager to try the first thing he’d ever cooked that he almost burned his fingers as he snatched one up. Blowing on it hastily, he took a large bite, huffing some further breaths to cool it down.

“So good.” He groaned, taking another large bite. Following as you took the plate to the dining table, lots of food was already laid out, your grandparents beginning to pile up their plates, and parents dishing up for their kids.

“Sit down, get some of your pancakes while they’re still hot and there’s still some there.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, sinking into a seat and grabbing for a plate. You sat with him, and soon, the whole family was gathered around, filling plates and chatting happily as the sleepiness wore away and the festive excitement settled in.

Chatter went on around you both as Mattheo gave it his best go to eat his body weight in bacon and pancakes, only pausing when you reminded him that there was still plenty of food left to go over the course of the day. He was happy to sit and listen to the conversation going on around him, but when the attention turned to him, he stuttered over his words.

He was nervous to answer any questions that came to him, your hand sliding into his under the table and pulling it onto his lap. It took him several questions to realise that they weren’t bothered by his family name. In fact, nobody asked him about his father, or his mother. He had one question about Tom, but only with respect to him being a brother, not a Riddle.

When this realisation washed over him, the way he lit up was obvious. Nervous responses became animated ramblings, talking with excitement and purpose as he responded to every attempt anyone made to get to know him.

He admitted to your Uncle Jamie that, no, he’d never been fishing. Your father asked him about his grades at school, and your mother berated him, before asking Mattheo about his favourite classes instead. Your Auntie Sally told him all about how she had been sorted in Gryffindor while her brother Steven had been Slytherin. They had epic battles on the Quidditch pitch, no pulled punches, and wondered if that rivalry still lasted. Your Uncle Steven asked him what his hobbies were, and he shyly admitted how much he loved art, which led to your grandad waking back up from his dozing just in time to start telling the same old story about the two-month spell he’d spent as a police sketch artist in the fifties.

He seemed more than happy to talk, settling into the dynamic of the room, and you took your plate to the kitchen, tidying it away. With a kiss on his cheek, you let Mattheo know you were finally going to change.

By the time you stepped back into the room fifteen minutes later, the children were frantically tugging at their adult’s arms to go back through for gifts, the sugar rush starting to kick in. Mattheo was helping to gather dishes away, arms out as your Auntie Sally piled plates and bowls into his arms, his eyes wide as she spoke to him about something.

You followed them through to the kitchen, not failing to miss the occasional drop of your name in the conversation, clearing your throat dramatically and stealing the spotlight. Your Aunt only grinned over her shoulder conspiratorially, unstacking the dirty dishes from Mattheo’s arms into the soapy water of the sink. Mattheo, however, sagged with relief as you appeared. The moment his arms were clear, he was sweeping back over to you, taking a handful of your Christmas jumper and tugging you to his side.

You stumbled along after him out of the room. “The second you left the room, they were all over me. What are my intentions, what are my feelings, when will I ask you out—” His voice hit a shrill note, and you chuckled, unclenching his hand from the material of your sweater.

“I made it very clear to them before today that we weren’t dating. You don’t need to worry about that, they’re just messing with you.”

“I wasn’t— I wasn’t worried, so much as intimidated! They’re scary people.”

“Are you trying to imply I’m not scary?” You tease, taking the edge off of his nerves as he rolled his eyes, focusing on that instead of the conversation you’d just freed him from.

“Oh, I’ve seen you in action. You’re terrifying when you want to be.” He muttered, leaning down to rest his forehead on your own, voice dropping low. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget the way Draco screamed when you filled his bed with grass snakes.”

“Yes, well, perhaps that’ll teach him not to steal my skin products just because his own ran out.”

“Come on, you two. Presents time.” Sally emerged from the kitchen, clapping her hands and smirking, and you groaned. Taking Mattheo’s hand and guiding him through to the living room, you snatched up a seat on one of the sofas quickly, Mattheo squeezing in beside you.

Children were already tearing into their presents, ribbons and bows and paper were already scattered around the room in a messy storm. Your mother pottered through with a tray of mugs, your father following, and you smiled gratefully as she passed you a mug of herbal tea.

As the mayhem went on, Mattheo settled back into the sofa, tugging your wrist closer to himself and sniffling the contents of your mug before taking a sip. He was perfectly happy to sit back and watch gifts be opened, to gather wrapping paper from your presents onto his lap and scrunch them up into balls.

Until one of the toddlers, Elliot, pulled out a gift from under the tree and flipped the label over. He struggled over it for a while, sounding out the sounds he could see written down. “Math..ee. Matt-ee-oo.” He mouthed around the word as Mattheo stiffened beside you. “Matthew.”

His head snapped up, looking straight to Mattheo as his mother corrected him softly, lowering her camera from filming him and pointing. Elliot carried the gift over, placing it into Mattheo’s hands, before dashing back to the tree to search for more gifts of his own.

Mattheo smoothed his fingers over the paper and ribbon, flipping the tag over to be sure, as if he didn’t quite believe it. Your handwriting neatly scrawled his name on the paper, and his eyes flickered up to you. “You did this?”

“Mhm. Open it.”

You pulled up your legs, tucking them underneath yourself and watching excitedly as he ran he tugged at the bow. Undoing the ribbon, he curled it up carefully, setting it aside next to his leg and flipping it over. Running his fingers over the edges, on the left side, they bumped along, and a smile cracked on his face. He repeated the motion, feeling more firmly through the wrapping. “Is this was I think it is?”

“Open it and find out.” You poked him with your toes, and he pushed his fingers under the folds of the paper, opening the seals and tearing it away from what was inside. He stared at it once it was free, fingers dusting across the ornate cover, flipping it open to look through the blank pages, to admire the paper quality.

“You got me a new sketchbook?”

“Hm. Not just any sketchbook, though. It’s an enchanted one. It’ll never run out of blank pages.” His jaw dropped, turning back to look at it.

“I’ve never— I didn’t even know such a thing existed. Where did you get it?”

“An art store, at Diagon Alley. I was just going to get you a regular one, but then I found this.” You shrugged, and his eyes were glistening when he looked up again.

“I love it. Thank you.” He clutched it to his chest, never looking away, not hiding his emotions this time even as his nose scrunched up a little and he sniffed. The busy noise and action went on around you both, but as he stretched on hand out to squeeze yours, it was like the two of you were all alone. Emotion clogged in your throat, your chest ached for him, such a visceral reaction to such a small gift. Tipping your head toward the tree, you laughed lightly. “There’s a couple more over there for you.”

“What?” His voice was shaky, glancing at the Christmas tree as some of the others gathered around it now, the children done and satisfied as they began to pay with all their new toys amongst the mess.

“Go on, go and get involved.” When he hesitated, a smile breaking free on his face, you encouraged him again, and he took a seat beside your mother by the tree, one more look back at you before beginning to search for the ones with his name on in the pile.

You opened and smiled at the gifts you were handed, grateful for them all as your family passed presents around, but you were distracted.

Distracted, watching the joy on Mattheo’s face as he opened another present, looking up at you as he opened a new set of colourful quills and chalks, the blush on his face when he unwrapped an ornament with ‘Baby Boy’s First Christmas’ written on. He glared at you with red cheeks, but held it carefully, and searched for a spot to hang it on the tree at your mother’s insistence. Distracted as you pulled out your phone, taking covert pictures of Mattheo with one of the biggest smiles you’d ever seen him wear.

He found another, settling it on his lap, his attention diverted as Jess’ son Aiden tugged at Mattheo’s sleeve, shoving a toy racecar into his face. Mattheo was polite, asking all kinds of questions, letting the boy run the car up and down his arm, and over his face, even as the small tyres went in his eye. When he finally grew bored of tangling the model Ferrari in Mattheo’s hair, he pointed at the gift still sitting in his lap.

Mattheo lifted it, showing it to him as Aiden slumped down across Mattheo’s shoulders lay across his back and tugging at the ribbon. He helped to open it, and while Mattheo’s face lit up, Aiden’s scrunched up, turning to glare at you on his new friend’s behalf.

“Ew, Auntie (Y/N), why did you get him a colouring book? Colouring books suck.”

Your laughter was hidden by Mattheo’s even as Jess scolded her son, and he stood, bringing it back over to you as his amusement died down. It was no ordinary book, it was a stress therapy colouring book, and by the way he was already flicking through the drawings inside, you could tell he liked it.

Stacking it on top of the sketchpad with his new quills and chalks. He reached for your mug, taking it from your hands and putting it down on the table by the sofa before tugging you up. Your body flew into his with the force of it, his arms wrapping around you tightly, and his face buried in your neck.

“Thank you.”

“Just a couple of gifts.” You smile, rubbing his back gently as he sank further into your touch, leaning his weight onto you. Your friendship group had already exchanged presents before leaving for the holidays, you’d done a Secret Santa exchange, and you’d given Blaise a new phone case and a basket full of chocolates.

“It’s so much more than that, stop playing it casual.” He muttered, words vibrating along your skin. With one final squeeze, he pulled back, the two of you dropping down onto the sofa, and you kicked your legs out across his lap comfortably. He reached for his new sketchpad, cracking open one of the new quills, a green one, and adjusting you. He propped your legs up on his lap to lean his book on, his head falling to your shoulder as his side pressed to your torso, and that oh-so-serious look took over his face once again as he began to sketch.

Sketching the Christmas tree.

Weaving your hand into his hair, you found yourself slipping back into that place where only you and he existed for a while, scratching lightly at his scalp and sitting still as he drew.

He stayed like that for a long while.

Long enough for the sun to start properly rising across the sky, and the Church bells on the horizon to start ringing. The children had rushed off to start a new game, and the group had dispersed through the house to keep up with their own activities. He’d long since finished his drawing, and was now lying quietly on your shoulder, your hand still in his hair, his eyes closed as he rested, mumbling responses to the conversation the two of you were barely carrying.

“I hate to disturb you two,” Your mother said, in a tone that suggested she very clearly did not hate to do such a thing, a grin on her face as she poked her head around the doorway, “But we’re about to start the baking. Did either of you wish to join us?”

Mattheo lifted his head, looking at you eagerly, and your hand slipped down to his shoulder as you pushed him upright again. “Go, make cookies.”

He stood, stretching out stiffened limbs. “Will you come too?”

You hadn't planned on it, much preferring to sit back and maybe take a nap. But, Mattheo was excited, and you’d long since decided that today was all about him. You could spare one Christmas to make him happy in ways he’d never forget. “Of course I will.”

He took on a happy look, and the two of you made your way to the kitchen side by side. Your mum left the doorway from where she ‘was not watching’, walking ahead. “So, what are we making?” Matt asked as the three of you joined the other few who had volunteered in the kitchen.

“We have brownies over here, cookies on the island, and apple pie being made on the table over there. Take your pick, sweetie.”

“Uh… cookies?”

“Perfect. You’ll work with me.” She took his arm by the elbow, pulling him towards the island in the centre of the room. You took over at the brownie station, washing your hands before joining in.

He put all of that polite, well-trained behaviour to good use as he chatted up a storm with your female relatives. They all loved him, laughing at his jokes and listening intently to his stories as he worked, barely aware of the attention that was on him as he stirred the bowl. Meanwhile, you spent the majority of the time trying to fight off all the little hands trying to reach up and snatch chunks of chocolate from the chopping boards, and stealing the bowls to lick.

You did, at least, manage to snap a picture of Mattheo with his cookie cutter before he spotted you.

The children were clamouring for the dishes by the end. You were elbow-deep in soapy water and washing, a tray of hot brownies and out, cookies cooling, and more batches already in the oven as several pies sat out waiting for later. Mattheo was talking to one of your older Aunts, charming her with boyish tales of him and Theo and Draco, when she took the brownie batter bowl out of a sprinting Aiden’s hands from where he had grabbed it and run.

He wailed loudly as his plot was foiled and she tutted at him. “Thieves don’t get treats, Aiden. You should’ve asked nicely. Only the nice boys get to lick the spoon.”

He frowned, crossing his arms over his chest, and knowing better than to fight back. She then turned back to the conversation, and held it out to Mattheo. “Matt, dear, would you like it?”

“Me?” He was as astonished as Aiden, taking the bowl and the spoon slowly and bringing them close to himself. You’d told your family a little more than you let on to Matt. You’d told them just enough to know that he didn’t typically have a good Christmas, that one of your favourite times of the year was one of his worst, and you wanted to make that better for him today.

He picked up the spoon, licking the batter off happily, and crouching down with the bowl in his hands, holding it to Aiden. Swiping his finger through it, your nephew was pleased once again, and soon enough, Mattheo had a swarm of children hanging from him as he made the mistake of sharing something sugary.

When he finally emerged, notably sans bowl, he wandered over to you, dropping the spoon in the sink. His jaw dropped to speak to you, attention stolen by the tugging of a small hand on his sleeve. Mabel was peering up at him, holding his colour therapy book in her other hand, and lifting it up.

“Can I colour in’y’book w’you?” She mumbled quietly, and your heart burst in your chest as he slipped his hand down to take hers carefully.

“Of course.” He let himself be guided away, back to the living room with Mabel, and your head dropped, hiding the smile as you continued to wash up.

Jess leaned on the counter beside you, a cloth in her hands from where she’d helped with the rest of the cleanup, and you turned to look up at her.

“I like him. He’s sweet.”

“You should see the pranks he pulls at school, he’s a menace.” Your joke amused her, a low sound leaving her as she wiped at the counters around you both for excess flour.

“Yeah, but, I still think he’s a sweetheart. And he’s into you, that much is clear.”

“Don’t start with this,” You groan, drying off your hands as the last of the monumental amount of washing up was completed. “I told you, we’re friends.”

“Yeah, just friends.” She shrugged, “But just because that's all you are right now, doesn’t mean that’s all you’ll ever be, or all you want to be. I see the way you look at him. You like him.”

“He’s pretty. Every girl looks at him like that.”

“No,” She shook her head, and you couldn't bear to look at her as she read you like a book. Instead, you began prepping a new mug of hot chocolate. “You look a him like you think his soul is pretty, not just him.”

“Shut up.” Her poetic words made you blush, and she closed in on you, ready to make the final strike. “Don’t you dare—”

“You looove him. You got a big, fat crush on him.”

“I will push you off your broom myself.” Your scowl didn’t ward her away, she was only torn from smirking at you as your mother began to unload the next set of food to start being prepared for dinner. The turkey was already in, had been for hours, but she began to unstack pigs and blankets as trays of sausage meat stuffing onto the surface.

Swiping up the mug, you followed the rumbling of Mattheo’s deep voice through the house. Sat on the floor of the snug, Mabel was lying on her stomach by his side as she coloured as neatly as possible onto the first page of his colouring therapy books with her crayons. Aiden was under his arm, holding up the instruction manual of a new Lego set, as a half-built model sat in front of them.

Elliot was playing with some of Aiden’s toy cars, and eight-year-old Jessop was lying on the sofa, reading a book. Knocking two knuckles on the door, five heads all snapped up to look at you. Mattheo smiled as you stepped into the room, and Aiden grumbled at his distraction, going back to the Lego even as Mattheo pulled away.

You offered him the new cup of hot chocolate, and he smiled as he accepted it, taking a sip.

“You know the men are all gathered in the living room watching some movie about cars. They have a lot of beer, and an empty seat, if you want to join them.” You sang the words enticingly, hands on his hips as you swayed him to the beat of your melody.

“What will you be doing?” He stepped a little closer, free hand going to your waist, too.

“I’ll help my mum with the cooking.”

“Can’t I help you cook, instead?” His whisper brushed your cheek as he leaned into place a kiss there, and your heart stuttered in your chest, taking you a moment to recompose yourself as he pulled back with a smile.

“Of course you can… if that’s what you want, but you don’t have to. You’re here to have fun.”

“What makes you think I’m not having fun?” He mused, peering at you over the rim of the mug as he took a sip. “I’m having a ton of fun. Best Christmas ever, all thanks to you. I just want to be wherever you are today.”

“Well, then I guess we’ll be in the kitchen,” Your words are hardly audible as you say them, swallowing back the emotion in your throat as he held eye contact.

“I guess we will, sweetheart.”

You turn to walk away, Mattheo following behind you as you lead him back to the kitchen.

He was more than welcome once again, immersed straight into girl talk as your relatives grumbled and complained over their husbands. Mattheo put his suspiciously good rolling habits to use, wrapping sausages tightly in strips of bacon, and almost choking when your mother complimented his skills.

He tried to hug you with raw hands, chasing you around the kitchen until your mother scolded him playfully, calling him back and having him lift the meats from the oven to be re-basted.

He was chopping and peeling potatoes, nudging back and forth with his hip as you worked beside him, when your already-exhausted-looking Uncle Jeremy peered into the kitchen, Elliot dangling upside down from his shoulder.

“The film ended. We’re going to take the kids out for a walk and burn off some of this energy. Anyone want to join?”

He looked like he was desperately waiting for them to tire out so the drinking could start, Elliot climbing all over him like a playground frame and your mother shooed you both away. “You can go, c’mon. Go for a walk, let your grandparents and I have some time.”

The kitchen cleared out, shoes and coats and scarves were put on, and then you were all trudging out into the snow as your father shut the door, hands in his pockets as he followed you down the frozen garden path. Mattheo wore an old coat he’d borrowed from your father, zipped right up as he kept his chin tucked down inside it, hands buried in his pockets.

“Oh, don’t pout, Matty. You’ve had colder than this.”

“How did we end up out here? I was cosy inside five minutes ago.” He pressed his hands even tighter into the coat as you linked an arm through his, snuggling up to his side as you followed the others along toward the fields you’d roam across for a while.

“My mum does this every year. We always host, but she kicks everyone out so she can check on my grandparents, and take a break for herself. She’ll have a large glass of wine, sit down in front of the fire, and watch an episode of whatever her latest reality TV show is, before we all come back.” The grass crunched under your feet as you stepped out onto the frozen fields, glittering and icy as far as you could see. “It’ll help you work up an appetite for the meal, though.”

“Your mother nearly gave me a heart attack when she asked me where I learned to roll pigs in blankets like that for someone who’s ‘never cooked a day in his little life’.” He produced his hands to make air quotes around his words, and only tucked one back into his pocket. The other, he took yours with, lacing your fingers together, and rubbing his thumb over your own.

“I know. Your face was priceless. I actually got a picture of it.”

“If anyone ever sees that picture, I’ll hex you.”

“You mean it wasn’t okay for me to send it straight to the group chat? Oops.” He stuck out his tongue, but sighed, taking in the countryside around him as you walked through it.

“You grew up here?”

“Nice, isn’t it? You murmur, looking around and letting the nostalgia wash over you as your thumb wrestled with his absentmindedly. “There’s a river nearby. We used to go down there as kids, this big group of us who lived here. We’d have picnics, and wade in the water and play on the rope swing.”

“Sounds fun.” He sighed, and you squeezed his hand, no words to comfort him coming to mind. He’d had no such freedom in his childhood, you knew as much from the snippets he or Tom would accidentally drop before they could stop themselves. “Sometimes I would walk around the grounds of the estate, but we were only allowed out if it was dry so we wouldn't get dirty.”

Resting your chin on his shoulder, you hugged his arm, snuggling into him as much as you could while still ambling on behind your chatting family. “Oh, Matty…”

“Normally, I hate hearing that. The sad, pitying voices.” He murmured, before twisting to face you, the tips of your noses brushing. “But when it’s you, I kinda’ like it. You don’t feel condescending, you just feel caring.”

“That’s because I do care.”

“I know.” He smiled, turning to face forward once again, and you rested your cheek on his shoulder instead, making it easier to walk along, huddled into his side.

You remained in silence for a while, letting him soak it all in, pausing occasionally to take a picture or two of him looking at things. Even when he walked away, to pick up fallen pinecones, or to look at initials carved into a tree, he still came back every time, to where you patiently waisted, his hand finding yours or tucking you back under his arm each time.

You were in the middle of taking several photos of him petting a walker’s dog when your father stopped, hands on his hips as he stared up at the greying sky overhead.

“It’s going to start snowing.”

Mattheo’s head snapped up, eyes wide as he let the dog go, running to catch its owner. “How can you tell?”

The excitement was clear in his voice, standing up and brushing his gloveless hands off on his jeans. You snorted, he’d really done it now. “Dad has a sixth sense about these things.”

“You see, my boy, those clouds up there are called nimbostratus clouds.” He pointed upwards, hands on his hips as Mattheo adopted a similar stance, copying him and staring up at the sky. “They’ve been settling in all day, and now the sky is full. Not to mention, it just dropped a degree or two a minute ago. Now, it’s not that perceptible when it’s already this cold, but I’m good with temperatures, you know. And it always drops a degree or two right before it precipitates.”

“And, how do you know it’s snow, not just rain? Or do those kinds of clouds only make snow?”

You laughed again, linking your arm through Mattheo’s, and he twisted his head to press a kiss to your temple. He stiffened a moment later, just as you did, and you wondered if he realised what he’d done at all until after. He didn’t take it back, though. Instead, he relaxed a second later, still listening to your dad talk about how he just knows, can feel it in his bones when the snow comes.

“So, how many different types of clouds are there?” Mattheo asked after listening to the whole explanation.

That was how you spent the entire walk back getting to hear about all the different types of cloud formations. To his credit, Mattheo seemed to be genuinely soaking up every word your father said. He had questions, and opinions, which span off into a new chat about the water cycle and glaciers.

It was only when you were ten minutes out from home that your father’s prophecy came true, and snow began to fall in heavy flakes from the sky. The children squealed excitedly, and Mattheo caught the flakes in the palms of his hands, watching each one melt against his skin with a small smile on his lips.

Finally, as everyone stepped back into the warmth to shake off the snow, and stomp mud off of their boots, it was like a stampede to get to the fireplace and warm up. Shaking out his hands and flexing his fingers, you took your time unwinding your scarf, hanging it up with your coat and peeling off your gloves.

His cheeks, nose and hands were pink, and he was rubbing at his arms to warm up now that he’d taken off his coat.

“My hands are cold.”

“I can tell.” You took them in your own, rubbing his frozen skin lightly. His fingers trembled a little in your hold, chilled to the bone, and you lifted your cupped hands together to your face. Softly parting your hands, you blew warm air between them onto his skin, your cheeks flaring with warmth at the gasp he made.

Rubbing again, you repeated the actions until the shaking of his hands stopped, and you finally chanced a look up at him. He was staring down at you, eyes practically glittering and lips parted. He seemed lost for words for a moment, toying with the thoughts in his mind before finally settling. “I like it when you fuss over me.”

He took his hands back, tucking them faster than you could stop him under the back of your jumper, cold fingers splaying across your back as he tugged you into his body. His face pressed into the crook of your neck, cold nose dragging along your skin. No matter how much you groaned and wriggled, his grip was tight, chilling you with him as he stole your body heat.

Eventually, you just gave in, sighing as you stroked his back, letting him snuggle in for warmth rather than fight for a space next to the fire. Amongst the woodsy smell of his cologne, and the gingery pine scent of the Christmas candles your mum burned every year, something else lingered in the air.

Berries, citrus fruit, and spices.

“I think mum made mulled wine.” Your words were right beside his ear, and at that, he raised his head, scrunching his nose sweetly a couple of times before sniffling the air. “Want some?”

“I’ve never had any. Is it good?”

“Seriously? Matt!” Grabbing behind yourself for one of his hands, you hurried him through the house. Just as you’d suspected the morning’s tanker of hot chocolate had been swapped out, and now, a steaming vat of mulled wine replaced it.

Grabbing two glass mugs, you set them out, pouring some from the little tap, and passing it to him by the handle. The cinnamon and orange smell so much stronger in the air now, and you moaned under your breath as you breathed in the steam.

He held the mug in his hands, not even seeming to feel the heat seeping through as he blew on the surface, several times, before taking a tentative sip. You waited for his reaction, practically on the edge of your seat, if you’d had one.

“It’s…”

“It’s..?” You burst, waiting for his reply, and he dragged it out just to tease you.

“It’s really good.” He eventually caved, taking another sip, and another, as you cheered. “Don’t ever tell my boy Theo I said that. He’d skin me alive. He hates the idea of mulled wine and refuses to touch it. It’s an insult to his Italian heritage, he says.”

“So is cream in carbonara, breadsticks, and chicken mince lasagne.” You scoffed, and he grinned at that.

He drank some more, the two of you sipping quietly on your glasses, before hearing the opening tunes of a movie on the TV. Refilling your glasses, you headed through. The room was only half full, some sat about chatting in the dining room, others upstairs, and some likely in the snug or their bedrooms. It left you plenty of space to lie out across one of the couches, stretching happily, and your toes didn’t even reach the other end.

The kids were all gathered around on the carpet, and Mattheo paced slowly behind you, with no attention on his movements but all his attention fixed on the animations taking place on the screen. He sat next to your legs nudging them up into the cushions before twisting and leaning back, settling himself against you with his head on your shoulder, back to your chest, as he continued to watch.

He didn’t see your flushed cheeks or your shy surprise, not as you hid your face behind him from the watchful eyes of the few members of your family that were in here, too. Reaching for one of the rolled-up blankets along the back of the couch, you shook it out, spreading it over his body for an extra layer of warmth. He made a happy sound, shuffling back further into you, and letting the hand not holding his cup fall to clasp your calf by his hip, stroking slowly.

Your arms crossed over his chest, giving up on what little pretence you had. This day would already be one of your favourite memories that you made, you might as well give into the full depth of what you wanted, and really make it the best it could be. Whether anything came from it or not, you’d still have this moment, cuddling with him on the sofa as he watched The Snowman for the first time.

Your fingers ran through his hair, tugging out wind-tangled knots loosely, and playing with the curls around your fingers. You were oh-so-fond of Mattheo’s natural hair, dipping down to bury your nose in the strands, and kiss to top of his head. He squeezed your leg again, tipping his head back enough to leave a kiss brushed on your chin, before quickly looking back to the screen, and finishing off his mulled wine.

Your cheek rested where your lips had once been, glancing around the room. Most of your relatives only gave you a small smile, while your mother winked at you, and your dad offered a thumbs up. You merely rolled your eyes, thankful for the dark of the room and that they couldn't see your blush.

By the end of the movie, Mattheo was turning to you, abject horror evident on his face, as everyone else seemed to get on like normal. “He melted?”

“He’ll be back next year, don’t worry.” You smile, and Mattheo shook his head, brows furrowed, a deep ridge between them that showed just how bothered he was by the ending.

“But he melted! How is that— I thought this was a child’s movie!”

“It is!”

“That’s like killing the dog in a Christmas movie.” He stuttered, trying to keep his voice low despite his growing concern. You left a kiss on his forehead in an attempt to hide your amusement from him.

“Then you’re gonna’ hate The Snowman and The Snowdog.”

“Say sike. You say sike right now, or I’m getting in that floo and going home.” He pointed in the direction of the fireplace, and your laughter broke out, spilling into uncontrollable giggles. He was not pleased with your laughing, even if he did wrap you up into his arms, smothering your face into his bicep and grunting unhappily. “You cruel, cruel woman. Finding joy in my misery.”

That only made you laugh more.

The day was going by too quickly for your liking, it felt like all you did was blink, and you found yourself instead sitting at the dining room table, Mattheo on one side, your Uncle James, Grandma Alice and Grandpa William teamed up with you as you tried to count through the Premier League teams before the other teams.

Someone else hit the buzzer first, and you cursed in a very unladylike manner that made your Grandpa chuckle.

Mattheo wasn’t much help with general knowledge, but he was enthusiastic. He tried as much as he could to participate in the rounds, and whenever he did happen to get something right, the look that took over his features was enough to light the night sky. He’d cheer, and kiss your cheek, and scribble the answers down on the big answers sheet you’d been assigned.

It went on and on, only ending when the timer went off for the turkey, and raucous shouting took over from every adult as the quiz was cut short. Mattheo was laughing, loud, his arm looped around your waist as he nestled you into his side, immersed in the noise and hubbub. One of your cousins was adding up the scores, and you already knew you hadn't won, but hearing all of the scores being read, you cringed at just how badly your team had done.

Mattheo laughed into your hair, the other arm hooking around your shoulders to pull you into him more fully.

“That was more insane than a Common Room party.” He grinned, spoken close to your ear, and you laughed.

“Why do you think I’m so good at handling you lot when you’re drunk and rowdy, hm?”

“I have never seen anyone corral drunk Italians like you.” He pulled back enough to peer down at you, and you smiled.

The moment was snapped away from you both by the clearing of the quiz sheets away. The pens and markers were being gathered by Aiden, while Mabel followed him around with a basket for him to drop them into. Once the seats were clear, the settings all started to come back, and you watched as the room was transformed once again from a disaster zone and back into an elegant eating space. Cutlery went down after the plates, napkins and glasses and a cracker at each space.

Mattheo was called away to help carry in bottles of wine, filling each glass around the table while the parents began to get the children settled in at their small table in the corner. Meals had already been prepared for them, a small chicken carved up between them all, a couple of roasties and just enough veggies that there would be no tears on Christmas Day.

Then, the adult table was filling up, you carried bowls of food back and forth; several different kinds of vegetables, potatoes, meats and gravies, sides and stuffings up and down until the table was full from one end to the other.

When you finally sat down and tucked your napkin down to cover your lap, Mattheo settled in beside you. He was checking out every bowl, the dish of roast potatoes you’d mentioned being most excited for seemed to have conveniently found itself placed right in front of you both, and he smirked into his wine as you mentioned as much.

Your father stood at the head of the table by the turkey, ready to carve, and the room fell quiet as all attention moved to him. Save for the ecstatic chatter of the children, that is. Your father held the meat-fork in one hand and the knife in the other, pausing just over the top of the turkey. Looking back up, he pulled back.

“Mattheo,” The man beside you still as he placed his glass down, and all attention fell to him. “Come and carve for us.”

Mattheo’s stumbled response was adorable, and he untucked his chair when your father repeated himself. He walked slowly toward the head of the table, taking the instruments from your father’s hands. He paused, splotches of read coming back to his face, but before he could admit to being lost, your dad was guiding him on where to poke and how to slice.

As soon as the first slice fell out and he lifted it off, clapping and cheering sounded around the room, and you made sure you were the loudest, his proud smile directed at you as he looked right at you. “First slice for you, sweetheart?”

You passed your plate along, all the way to get the meat from where he stood, before it was passed back to you.

He kept going, slicing again and again until his wrist hurt, and he put down the knife and fork carefully. Stepping back for your father to take over, he clapped Mattheo on the shoulder. “Good job, son.”

It was spoken mindlessly, casually, as your father got back to work carving the meats, but it meant the world to Mattheo. His jaw dropped, and for a second he was frozen. You were almost worried he’d bolt, before he was speeding back over to the chair and took his seat beside you once again. He didn’t mention it, but he did let out a shaky breath, and took a heavy gulp of wine as his hands shook.

Your hand landed on his thigh, stroking lightly as he reached for the bowl of potatoes. “You okay, honey?”

“Never been better.” His tone sounded flat but you believed his words, watching as he dished up some potatoes onto your plate and his, picking out the ones that looked the best to give to you. “I carved a turkey.”

“And did a mighty fine job of it too.”

“You think?”

“Mhm. I’m very impressed.” You served up carrots and parsnips and Mattheo did mashed potatoes, dishes swapping about across the table, up and down until everyone had what they wanted.

In a blur of good talk and food, you set into polishing off the plate before you, watching Mattheo try each and every item.

“What’s normally on your Christmas Dinner?”

“Uh… well, father goes hunting with his business partners in the week leading up to Christmas, and normally he makes me and Tom go too. He’ll choose the best pheasant from the day, and that’s served. Along with a turkey, gammon, beef, lamb, and some kind of vegetarian wellington or roast.”

You watched him slice off a piece of his turkey, eyes rolling a little as he hummed happily, combining it with a piece of stuffing.

“All the usual trimmings, too, to put on a show. But we weren’t allowed to eat them. Mother only let us have things that could be considered elegant.”

A snort left you, and he smirked. “What exactly is considered an elegant Christmas dinner food?”

“Things that can be eaten with a fork. Meat, roast potatoes,” He chopped smoothly down the centre of a crispy roast potato, stabbing it in one smooth move and putting it neatly into his mouth. “Stuffing and sprouts. That’s about it.”

“That’s awful! What about the pigs in blankets?”

“Roll around too much when you try to chop them.” He shrugged, and you scoffed.

“So do sprouts?”

“Ah, but sprouts are a classic Christmas dish, and mother is nothing, if not traditionally elegant.” He made a show of chopping into a pig in a blanket now, savouring it as he ate it. “First time I ever had a Yorkshire pudding was second year, Tom took me to a pub in Hogsmeade. Changed my life.”

“Matty…”

“Don’t feel too bad for me, sweets.” Turning to you, he dipped a little closer, a smirk on his lips as his voice dropped. “If I didn’t have my sad, pathetic life to tell you all about, I wouldn't have a sob story to use to get a pretty girl to fawn over me.”

“Oh, please,” You muttered, shaking your head to hide your blush as you turned back to your meal. “Now you’re just flirting.”

“I’ve been flirting this whole time, you just never want to see it.”

Your eyes rolled at his smirk, and you twisted away, tuning back into the conversation going on around the table.

Mattheo loved his dinner. He ate everything on his plate, and at your relatives’ encouragement, he had seconds. Christmas crackers were popped, jokes were read and the little toys were exchanged around the table until everyone had a useless trinket they were happy with.

He proudly wore a bright green paper crown on his head, and forced you to wear the orange one that popped out of your cracker too.

By the time he was nibbling his way through a third plate, his hand was on your thigh, squeezing as he sat slumped in his seat. Jeans unbuttoned under his sweater, he patted at his stomach, content and full. You dipped another roast potato in a pool of gravy on your plate, dragging it through slowly. Lifting it, you took a bite, and he tipped his head, lips parting for the next bite.

You offered it to him, and he pulled the bite from the fork, chewing with a hum as he listened to the storytelling of the previous Christmas’ that was now taking place.

Before the food took you out into a food coma, your mother forced clean-up to take place. Bin bags were stuffed full, gifts were tidied away to respective cars and bedrooms, and the washing up was done, the table was cleared. When everyone put their minds to it, it didn’t take long, and you found Mattheo stacking the lad of the leftover tubs into the fridge.

“We’re going to put some more movies on, and drink mulled wine ‘til we get tipsy. You staying for that?”

“Wild horses couldn't drag me away.” Mattheo smiled, turning to you as your arms wrapped around one of his, guiding him back to the living room before all the seats had been taken. You sat down first, and he quickly found a home leaning on your chest once again, your arms crossed over his chest, and one of his hands laced with your own.

The other rubbed up and down your forearm slowly, getting himself comfortable as he groaned, spreading out as much as he could. “Did you eat too much?” You teased, and he pinched your arm, shaking his head.

“I will never be defeated by food.” Despite his claims, he shifted once again, lowering into the couch cousins. Wine was handed out, the lights turned down, and Love, Actually began to play. Clearly, Grandma Judie had chosen the movie.

That statement came to haunt him halfway through, though, when your mother arrived with a cheeseboard, handing out small plates, and pressing one into his hands. He was ever so polite, he’d never turn it down, and as she passed the box of crackers around to him, he piled three neatly onto the side of the plate.

“Take more than that, dear. Come on.” She encouraged, and you hid your face against the top of his head to hide your laughter, as he added another three. Then came the cheese, and you swore you could feel Mattheo’s hesitation as he added slices and cubes of various cheeses to his plate, all under your parent’s watchful gaze to make sure he was taking enough.

As he settled back, you brushed a kiss to his temple, and he tipped his face up towards you a little more. A smile was on his lips, the plate untouched and balanced in his lap.

“You sure you’re not being defeated?”

“Me? Never.” He grinned, lifting a cracker with a slice of mature cheddar on up to you. “I made sure to get enough for us both, don’t you worry.”

You didn’t have a chance to argue, the moment your mouth was open, he was forcing the savoury snack into your mouth, a wicked glint in his eye as you chewed slowly. Over mulled wine and cheese nibbles, the movie finished and another one began, this time chosen by one of your cousins. It was more upbeat, not a classic like the last had been, and there had almost been a row over it.

Classic, or new. Mattheo had sat back and watched in astonished amusement as comments were thrown around the room in an argument for which was better. Eventually, a coin was flipped, and half the room had to grumble and accept it as the other half sat smugly.

The night was fully upon you by now, darkness had taken over as the evening ticked by. The curtains were drawn, candles were lit, and both your sets of grandparents had called it a day and gone up to bed already. The babies had long since fallen asleep too, setting a kind of quiet and peace over the house.

Mattheo had gone still in your arms a long time ago, dozing between sleep and awake, finally having conceded after his second cracker and left the plate alone on the coffee table. You were sure he’d never admit it, though.

You were comfy and happy. With the weight of him pressing down against you, and the blanket you’d thrown over your bodies covering you both and keeping you snug, you were sure that this was what you’d call perfect.

The smell of spices and apples filled the house, your excitement renewing toward the end of the second movie as the time ticked on. Most of the children had fallen asleep, bowls of ice cream left on the kitchen counter from their own desserts, and long since tucked into bed to sleep.

Your Aunt got up to check the oven, and moments later she called to let you all know that the treats from earlier in the day had finished cooking. “Mattheo.” You nudged, excitement racing through you, and the man in your arms stirred a little. He grunted, rolling over slightly and gripping one of your arms a little more firmly. “Matt!”

“Not right now, sweetheart. M’ sleeping.” He muttered, huffing a heavy breath out, and you chuckled.

“You’re gonna’ miss dessert, though.”

That got his attention, one eye cracking open, quickly followed by another, and he sniffed at the air. “Smells good.”

“Mhm, so get up, and we can go and get some.”

Your family had already begun filing through to the kitchen, a new excitement surrounding the food as chatter took back up, laughter and new energy taking over. By the time you finally managed to join them, all of the various tray-bakes and puddings had been dug into, and you snatched up a plate to begin serving some to yourself. Some apple pie at one corner, some brownie at another, a scoop of ice cream in the idle, and a stack of cookies at the edge.

Mattheo shuffled in a few moments later, sleepy and stretching, trying to hold in a yawn as he looked around. Upon finding you, he made his way over, slumping down to rest his head on your shoulder as you plucked two mismatched spoons from what was left in the cutlery drawer.

Handing him one, he sighed, breaking off a large chunk of brownie and some ice-cream, before finally raising his head and eating the spoonful. With a groan, he told you just how good he thought it was, and went back in for more before even finishing his mouthful.

The two of you shared the plate between quiet chatter, talking about his day, as Mattheo recounted for you almost every moment. His eyes were sparkling as he got a second helping of brownie for you both, forcing his spoon between your lips when teased him for his excitement, and wiping the edge of your mouth when you glared at him. He was so light, bursting with a kind of happiness you rarely ever saw in him.

So much tended to weigh Mattheo down, so much of the time. He was a person who was burdened with struggles and troubles, and while he was exceptionally good at making the most of it, and finding silver linings, sometimes, it would eat away at him after too long. Darkness would crawl in at the edges, in the form of exhaustion and temper and emotional outbursts, and you’d find him staving off a panic attack with a cigarette between his lips, leg unable to keep from bouncing as he stood atop the astronomy tower.

He didn’t look hopeless and world-weary now, though. Right now he looked happy. Full of the kind of happiness that lit a person up from the inside out. He looked like he was at peace, even as he stood huddled with you in the corner of your kitchen eating a shared piece of brownie, while your family around you began to trickle out as the night went on.

Soon enough, even one more bite of sugar was too much, and you were slumped lazily back onto the couch. Mattheo was lying half across you as the last of your aunts and uncles quietly carried their snoozing children to the fireplace of the cars, ready to floo or drive home. Each and every one of them had bid him a goodbye, telling him how nice it was to meet him as he returned the sentiments with red cheeks and a bashful smile.

“I suppose it’s my turn to go now.” He mumbled, your fingers running once through his hair, and your mother poked her head out of the kitchen where she’d been chatting with your aunties who were staying, over a cup of tea. At least, you thought they’d been chatting, clearly, she’d been eavesdropping.

“Oh, Mattheo-dear, you’re not staying over? We thought you would.”

“You did?” He sat upright a little more, eyes wide, and your mother only nodded to him. “I’d like that… as long as I wouldn't be a burden to you.”

“A burden? ‘Course not, dear. You’re a treat to have, and an extra set of hands on Boxing Day is always handy.” She hummed, clearly pleased with her meddling as she disappeared. Mattheo accio’d for a notebook and a pen, sending a lazily scribbled note addressed to his housekeeper through the floo, to inform them of where he was staying for the night.

As he stood by the fireplace, folding the note and waiting for the flames to change colour, you wrapped your arms around him. Pressing your face between his shoulders, he sagged back into you, relaxing into your touch.

Orange flickered to green, and he tossed the note in, watching it disappear to ash in the flames in a split-second, before the warm glow was back.

“Come on, Matty. Let’s go upstairs.” You whispered, and he slipped a hand down to take one of yours from his stomach, lacing your fingers together. Lifting your hand up, he issued the back of it, before turning, and letting you guide him away upstairs.

You guided him through the house, the floorboards squeaking quietly under your feet in certain spots. “You can stay with me.” You murmured quietly, and he only nodded.

Opening up the door to your bedroom, his eyes immediately started flicking from one corner to the other, taking in every detail. It was fairly sparse these days, most of your most important possessions came to Hogwarts with you, and everything else, you’d had a big clear out of. Your skincare bottles were all lined up along the dresser, your laptop on the nightstand, and a few half-burned candles littered around.

One thing you always had, was candles.

Gathering the bottles you’d left out, you slipped away to the bathroom to get ready for bed before exhaustion took over.

When you returned, Mattheo was looking through the drawers of your wardrobe. “Searching for something, or just looking for all my dirty secrets?” You tease, and he jumped a little, but smiled as he turned to you.

“Where are your spare blankets?”

“Given out to all my cousins and relatives who are staying over. Why?” You pulled out a lighter from your nightstand drawer, moving from one candle to another and beginning to light them. He scratched at the back of his neck, and you raised a brow. “Matt, you’ll sleep in the bed, not the floor. Are you insane? It’s freezing, and uncomfortable.”

“I— Are you sure? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“You could never,” You murmur, flicking the flame out once they were all done. Most of your drawers were half-empty, and it didn’t take long for you to search through and find an oversized sleep shirt for him. Unfortunately, it was pink. “You want something else to sleep in? I can lend you a shirt, but I don’t have any shorts that would… suit you.”

A flush rose to your cheeks and you actively fought any kind of mental images from passing through your mind. Particularly any that involved Mattheo, and a pair of booty shorts.

He accepted the pink tee with a grin, stripping his jumper off and over his head. Folding it neatly and leaving it on your dresser, his t-shirt followed, and he donned the hot-pink band shirt with a half-faded Taylor Swift setlist on the back.

“Enzo would love this shirt.” He muttered, frowning at you as he admired the huge print of her across the front. Undoing his belt, you quickly diverted your gaze, turning back to the bed and tossing throw-cushions out of the way. You heard the rustle of denim, the clink of his belt as he folded it, and then the squeaky steps on the floor as he crossed the room.

“Do you want to watch a movie before we sleep, or are you—” Arms curled your waist, his face pressed into your neck, and your words stuttered off as he tugged you back into himself firmly. “Matty?”

He shuddered against you, and you turned in his arms despite his tight hold, cupping his face and forcing his eyes up to your own.

“Mattheo?”

“Thank you. For today, thank you so much.” He leaned in, a kiss on your cheek so soft you could barely feel it. Then another, and another, firmer as he worked, muttering his thanks between kisses all over your face, mumbling his appreciation. His voice cracked as he kissed your forehead, and he sniffled as he moved down to your other cheek. “This was one of the best days of my life, thank you.”

“Matty honey,” You pulled back, enough to see his face as his water-lined eyes shone gold in the flicker of the flames around the room. “It’s okay. It’s okay, I wanted you here. I was so happy to have you here, this was perhaps the best Christmas I’ve ever had, too. Watching you be so happy, making you this happy, it made it so. I love seeing you smile.”

He hiccuped a sob, nodding a little as your thumb swept over your cheek. He attempted to choke back tears, and you shushed him quietly. “I didn’t— I didn’t get you any presents, I’m sorry—”

“Mattheo, stop. Please, look at me. See how happy I am right now.” His eyes scanned over your face, fighting the battle against the tears wanting to spill over. He was clinging to your waist, hands bunching at the sleep shirt you wore as he tugged you in a little closer. “Please smile. That’s what I want you to get me for Christmas. I got snow, I got my family, I got to see you. Now let me see you smile.”

He sniffled through a laugh, the lines of worry etched onto his face finally smoothing out. He smiled, watery and weak, but he smiled, letting out a heavy sigh.

“There he is, my pretty boy.” You pinched his cheek, his head tipping a little further into your hold, his eyes fluttering shut.

“I’m in love with you.” The worst bubbled from him in uh a rush they almost blurred together, but his body finally sagged, like he was losing the very tension that even kept him upright Swaying forward, his forehead fell to settle on yours, like he was collapsing. “I’m so, so fucking in love with you, and I just had to tell you that. After today, after everything, I couldn't keep it to myself anymore.”

His nose nuzzled against your own as the words he’d said settled over you. “Oh, Mattheo. After all that I just said, you don’t know how I feel about you?”

“‘Course I do. Why do you think I finally had the courage to say it?” Tipping his head up, he kissed the tip of your nose, arms sliding properly around your waist.

“I love you, Mattheo.” You murmured, shifting up enough for your lips to brush his own, and he smiled against your lips.

“You are the best thing in my life, sweetheart.” His confession was followed by his mouth closing over your own. A kiss that emptied every part of your mind, you could only focus on him. The slow movements of his lips, drowning in the feel of him pressed up to you, mouths making slow motions as you crossed that line between friends and more.

He pulled back for a breath, and you chased after him. Your mouths collided once again, needy and desperate this time, his hand slipping up to tangle in your hair as the other slid low down your back. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling yourself up to a better angle as your heart pounded against your ribs, a steady drum beat to match the rhythm of your lips.

This time, when your mouth slid from his own, he left kisses dotted along your jaw, panting onto your skin but unable to stop. Only when he had kissed down to your neck, face buried in your hair, did he pause Hugging you close, his chest rose and fell as he moulded you to his body, fingers massaging against your scalp as his hand still resided in your hair.

Eventually, the two of you shifted to the bed, tucking yourselves snugly under the covers, wrapped around one another as you balanced the laptop on your lap, pulling up a movie.

“What are we watching?” He whispered, between lazy kisses along your jaw, twirling a strand of your hair around his finger.

“I was thinking Arthur Christmas. I think you’d like it.”

“Huh,” He murmured, pulling back as you turned up the volume and set it between you both. “Kinda’ sounds like Father Christmas, doesn’t it?”

You laughed against your will, taking his face in your hands and pulling him in for another kiss. “Godamnit, you’re cute.”

Suffice to say, he loved that one, too.

As fate would have it, Mattheo Riddle has a soft spot for animated Christmas movies.

#mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle/reader #mattheo riddle/you #mattheo riddle x you #harry potter #slytherin boys #benjamin wadsworth x reader #benjamin wadsworth/reader

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colourstreakgryffin · 3 months

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Hello! Could you do a SFW one with Alastor, Vox, Velvett, or others (separately) with a blind fem reader?

Ooh! Okay! I def can! Idk if you want it romantic or not but even so, let’s just see where this actually really cool idea takes us, shall we!

Alastor

Alastor doesn’t really react much to when he discovers you’re blind. Well… that happens to people doesn’t it, though, he isn’t sure how you’re still blind, even coming into Hell. He was short-sighted as a human and now, it’s completely cured. Why are you so different?

Alastor won’t treat you like you’re helpless and unable to fend for yourself. He’ll only jump in when he thinks you genuinely need some support. He is a good boyfriend like that and he is happy to make radio effect noises to draw you back to him when you need the subtle push

Alastor is the type to accompany you everywhere, no questions asked. He’ll bring you place to place and let you feel around so you get familiar with the Hotel’s layout but most of the time, he’ll escort you where you need to go so you don’t get lost. He just wants to protect you… all the time, everytime

Alastor respects you. You have a genuine disability but yet, you never let it bother you nor does it hinder you so much, that you need a constant caretaker. You’re a lady of skill and diligence, you’ve accomplished so much. He’s proud and he likes to brag about his blind girlfriend being better than anybody else’s own normal girlfriend, even over his broadcasts

You bet your supple ass Alastor wants and tries to cure your disability. As much as he believes you’re beautiful the way you are, he’d prefer you be able to see so you don’t have to suffer all the time and he brings this up with you as much as he possibly can

Vox

Vox is kinda meh about the whole fact you’re blind. He doesn’t like it but that also doesn’t mean he’d bully you for it. He’s kinda more disguising I am worried under annoyance. He pretends to be annoyed by the fact you can’t see but in his mind, he’s worried you’ll get lost

Vox always has people escort you around, when he himself cannot, he needs you safe and he even hires security to ensure no random stranger can put their hands on you when you least suspect it. As his beloved but sadly disabled girlfriend, you’re safety is his top priority, alongside comfort when you are safe

Vox is kinda… very babying, to be honest, he babies you a lot because of your blindness. He is caring and he is doting, behind closed doors and he wants to ensure you’ll be taken care of so he babies you in all ways because of your disability. He’ll feed you, he’ll bring you to the bathroom, he’ll sleep with you

Vox always wants to hold your hand. It’s for both of you; for you to get familiar with his feeling and for him to know you’re right there and not going anywhere. Vox also doesn’t mind letting you feel his TV head, whatever helps you always recognise him, he’s happy with it

Vox, like Alastor and Velvette, brags about you but he brags about you on his television show, so live on the worldwide web. He’ll brag about everything you’re gone through and even announce you, proclaim you’re the better than any girl in Hell and that you’re hotter than any other girl in Hell

Velvette

Velvette, for a critical and judgy woman, cannot bring herself to judge you for your disability. Yeah, she is the one who dislikes it the most since it means you’re stupid(Velvette mindset) but she doesn’t want to throw any garbage at the woman she really likes

Velvette likes to dress you. That way, you don’t have to worry about feeling on your clothing and she can make sure you always match her, stay up trends and be stylish. You’ll be the most beautiful lady in the Pride Ring and she’ll enjoy posting pictures of you online

Velvette actually feels really sorry for you so she offers her help regularly. She’ll offer her help for the smallest things, your echolocation isn’t working and you’re more than a bit stuck, she’ll be right there with her phone playing so you can always find her incase you two seperate but she’ll have your hand in hers

Velvette as the, backbone of the Overlord Vs, is more than willingly to get into a fight to protect you. Protect you from the minor disablist down the street to actual exterminators. She’ll never let anything put their hands on you and she’ll even fend off Vox and Valentino to leave you alone. She wants to be the only one touching you

Velvette will make sure you associate social media to herself so when you hear memes or music or a uploaded video, that means Velvette is nearby and she is very proud when she watches you approach her and cuddle onto her

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babyleostuff · 9 months

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Hi hi! Could you possibly write more angst? (Any member) Like the mini ones (?) Like fights/arguments and whatnot :)) w fluff at the end (or ending of your choice :P) thank you!!! Love your writing!! <3

fights with seventeen | OT13

I'm SO sorry about being so late with this, but I've been really busy with my exams and I didn't have that much time to write. But now that my vacation began, I'm going to catch up with my requests. Still, I hope you enjoy this one <3

☾₊ ⊹ currently playing: a glimpse of us by joji

𓆩♡𓆪 CHOI SEUNGCHEOL

Of course you’d fight over small things, like in every relationship, but big fights are a very rare occurrence in your relationship. Seungcheol hates seeing you upset, so often those arguments will be over before they even begin.

But if you got into a big fight, it would get loud and messy. Seungcheol is competitive and stubborn, so if he gets fixated on one thing it can be hard to change his mind about it.

If you ever leave the house after a fight, he’ll become a worried mess. He'll call everyone he knows that you might have gone to and if none of them knows where you are he’ll be panicking massively. Don’t ever do that to him, no matter how angry you are at each other at that moment, he can’t stand the thought that you might get hurt and he will not be able to help you.

Would never allow you to sleep on the couch after a fight and even if you’d do that, he’d carry you back to the bedroom.

He’d blame himself for days if you ever cry during a fight, no matter whose fault it was, he’d always blame himself for making you cry.

𓆩♡𓆪 YOON JEONGHAN

Some fights would get you raising your voices at each other, but those types of arguments would be VERY rare and only happen if either of you were very tired or drained from any type of work or schedules.

Normally, neither him nor you would be able to raise your voices at each other, the fight in itself was painful enough, you didn’t need any screaming or yelling.

Both of you would try to explain your point of views, what you think the other did wrong or how they could improve themselves. You’d both be very respectful of each other’s opinions and never make fun or tease in situations like those.

Even during the argument, he’d want to hold your hand or at least be near you. He’d still want to feel connected to you and not put extra space between you. After the fight he’d also stay near you, hug you a lot and never let go of your hand.

𓆩♡𓆪 HONG JOSHUA

Your fights would be very mature and calm. Surely, you would get frustrated and annoyed at each other, but never truly angry or furious. He would never even let you.

You would resolve any of your arguments as quickly as you could, not even once thinking about giving each other the silent treatment. Even if he was away on tour, he’d try to talk to you as soon as possible or even text you, to let you know that he’d want to figure stuff out.

Sometimes, especially if it was more of a small argument, he’d be petty and annoying with you, knowing how to push your buttons, to make you more frustrated. But he would never take it too far, he’d just simply want to tease you a bit.

Knowing that you need some kind of reassurance after a fight, he’d always hug you tightly, kissing the side of your head, where there would be no place for any teasing. He would be very gentle with you then.

𓆩♡𓆪 WEN JUNHUI

In the beginning of your relationship he’d have a bit of trouble talking things out, as he never knew whether you wanted space or not. He was always too scared to ask, since he didn’t want to make things even worse between you.

With time though, you’d learn how to properly talk with each other about those kinds of stuff and your communication skills would only get better and better.

Still, any fights that you’d have would be very calm and neither of you would raise your voices at each other. If, for some reason, you’d get so angry that you’d want to say some hurtful things, you’d just take a break and spend some time apart, trying to collect your thoughts and think about how to solve the fight without hurting the other one.

The aftermath of any fight would be full of love and reassurance - warm hugs and sweet kisses.

𓆩♡𓆪 KWON SOONYOUNG

He’d get so emotional the second he figured you were actually having a fight. Especially during those big fights, that happened once in a blue moon, but still. He would be so torn, because on one hand he’s angry with you, but on the second IT’S YOU, how can he be angry with YOU?

He would probably say whatever came to his mind, not really paying attention to what was coming out of his mouth, which sometimes would do more harm than good. He would apologise right after he released what he’d said, and I'm sure he'd keep on apologising for the next few days, feeling extremely guilty.

After the argument, he would want you to hug him and keep him close to you, letting him know that you’re not upset with him anymore and that you still love him. He would also be clinging to you even more, trying to find comfort in your arms.

𓆩♡𓆪 JEON WONWOO

He is usually quite silent during your fights and you’d be the one who does most of the talking. He’d just simply nod to everything you say and share his view when you’re done.

Never raises his voice at you, no matter how angry or frustrated he is with you. Even after a tiring day, he’d listen to all of your complaints and try to work things out before going to bed. He can’t imagine sleeping without holding you in some way, and he knows that if you two don’t talk it out, you’d probably want to be left alone.

It’s hard for him to actually apologise, but you’d know he’s sorry from his acts of service. The next day, after your fight, he’d be extra attentive to you, never leaving your side and constantly asking you if you need anything.

If you’d ask him for space he, of course, would give it to you, but would feel so lonely without you by his side. He would even try to make your favourite dish to make you feel a little bit better and even though he’d fail massively, it would still make you all warm and fuzzy inside.

𓆩♡𓆪 LEE JIHOON

Very calm, but you're not always capable of telling how he actually feels. He could be fuming inside, but you wouldn’t have known. A lot like Wonwoo, he would be mostly quiet, trying to figure out how he wants to express his emotions.

Because he’s not great with dealing with his own emotions, he would have a bit of a hard time explaining his point of view on whatever you were fighting about. Still, he would be grateful that you were so understanding, even in such a situation.

If you’d want to take the couch, he’d let you. But, sometime during the night, he would come out of your bedroom with an extra blanket to tuck you in and make sure that you’re comfortable.

The next day he would be very attentive to you, but in a silent way. He’d try to make you breakfast, do the most important chores for you, help you out in any way that he could.

𓆩♡𓆪 XU MINGHAO

Any fights or arguments with him are very calm. Even though he sometimes wants to scream out in frustration, he never does that. He knows that screaming at each other won’t help out in any way.

His top one priority is to talk it out as soon as you both are ready, without getting more upset with each other. He just wants to get it over with and get back to normal.

I can see him holding your hand while you talk it out. He wants to stay connected to you and give you a kind of reassurance, that even though you're upset with each other, he’s still there for you and loves you no matter what.

The night after a fight is kind of silent. But not uncomfortable. You’re just very soft and careful around each other, not saying much, but still being in each other’s presence. You cuddle closely that night and exchange some comforting kisses as apologies.

𓆩♡𓆪 KIM MINGYU

Will either behave like a diva and drama queen or like a pouty child. It all depends on the situation, on whose fault it is and how emotionally he’s feeling. If he’s drained and tired, he won’t have the energy to fight with you and would want to resolve it as quickly as possible.

But, when he’s feeling like the usual him, the fights tend to get a bit bigger and emotional. He is stubborn, to the point where he’ll keep fighting with you even when he knows he’s wrong. Will constantly side eye you and sigh time and time again.

If he ever sees that you're getting really upset about the fight he will stop, though. There is nothing worse for him than seeing you so drained and sad and he’ll even apologise first, even when it’s your fault. He just doesn’t want to let such petty and little things come in the way of your happiness.

Even when you fall asleep still a bit angry with him, he’ll still cuddle you (or he would be touching you in some way, he just has to).

𓆩♡𓆪 LEE SEOKMIN

I’m sorry, but there is no way you could have a big fight with this man. The second he sees you getting upset or angry over something he has done, he’ll talk to you immediately.

Can get a bit emotional during fighting sometimes, but he never does that to manipulate you in some way. He just can’t stand the fact that you’re actually upset with each other.

Never raises his voice at you, never gets petty with you, NO silent treatments whatsoever. He doesn’t understand how someone can ignore their partner when they're upset with them. Why not simply talk things out and get back to normal? Every second spent on fighting, means less time to spend it on how you’re actually meant to spend it - happy and having fun!

Will always gives you a lot of hugs and cuddles after a fight, maybe not necessarily to cheer you up, but to reassure himself that you’re not going anywhere and to let you know how much he appreciates you.

𓆩♡𓆪 BOO SEUNGKWAN

So dramatic. So petty. So over the top.

He would be rambling non stop, not letting you speak. He would let out all of his frustrations and annoyances in no time, it would leave him almost breathless. After that, he’d listen to you and do his best to understand your point of view.

Big fights wouldn’t really happen in your relationship, as both of you would get too emotional and start crying and apologising upon seeing each other's sad faces. Still, you’d talk it out and never leave an argument unresolved.

He’d need reassurance after any kind of fight, big or small. It would make him worry that you might want to take a break from him or even break up and that’s when you’d have to tell him that you’d never leave him because of a silly fight.

After one of those silly small fights, you’d laugh about it afterwards, realising how stupid you both were to fight over something so insignificant.

𓆩♡𓆪 CHWE VERNON

He’d be very logical and reasonable during any of your fights, though I can’t really imagine any big fights happening between the two of you. You’d try to avoid any conflicts and always talk things out before they escalate.

If, for any reason, you’d want to sleep on the couch, he’d tell you to sleep in your bed and that he’d take the couch instead. You’d probably wake up sometime during the night and walk out to the living room wrapped in a blanket, laying down next to him.

There are no silent treatments with this dude, he’ll never let you ignore him when you’re angry. As passive as he usually is, he just can’t stand you ignoring him, especially when he doesn;t know what he has done to upset you.

Usually, you watch a movie after a fight to calm yourselves a bit and give each other some time to think, but still be in each other's presence.

𓆩♡𓆪 LEE CHAN

Please don’t fight with him. He’s always so soft spoken with you and it doesn’t change even when you fight. He absolutely hates fighting with you - hates the fact that he can’t hug you, hates that you’re angry and upset. He’ll do everything to make it right again.

There is a big chance that he’ll even cry during a big fight, especially when you both say things that you don’t really mean. He’s already mentally tired from all his schedules and he can’t stand the fact that he can’t find comfort in the person that he loves the most.

Similarly to Seungcheol, he will never let you take the couch and will never let you leave the house. He’s simply too scared that you might leave him or that something might happen to you and he wouldn’t be able to cope with that.

Even when you fall asleep still angry with each other, during the night, you’ll find your way back to him, cuddling into him.

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coralinnii · 20 days

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Hi! I saw that you were opening your requests for the next day or so to celebrate getting 2.7k followers! First off, I wanna say congratulations, and may you have a good day/night (almost wrote 'not' lol)!

Anyways, I read your rules, and wondered if I could get a fic with Leona, Vil, Malleus, and Lilia being in a relationship with a Venti! Reader? Essentially, Venti is a Genshin Impact character who plays the lyre, controls the wind, and has a playful personality.

‧₊˚✧ As Free as the Wind ‧₊˚✧

↳ Twst guys with a Venti!reader

feat: Leona ❋ Vil ❋ Malleus ❋ Lilia genre: humor, mild fluff note: no pronouns were used with the reader, Venti!reader is of legal age to drink, no spoilers regarding the Genshin Impact storyline, minor spoilers for TWST Book 7

Thank you reading my rules, always appreciate the extra effort people make! I deeply apologize for how late I am with this, but I hope you enjoy the post. Hopefully I captured Venti's personality well enough >_<'

2.7K Followers Writing Event 2023

Ooff, did he first thought you were a pain in his tail.

Loud, cheeky, no fear of disturbing anyone for entertainment or favors… at least Ruggie has the decency to be useful.

He scoffed when you smile and act as if he can’t sense a dangerous well of power within you, the playful persona you present may fool a common man but not Leona.

He’ll play your game though. There’s no benefit to him to pry into your secrets. He finds this side of you, the one that would play a soft ballad for him for some booze money, much easier to deal with.

This is a strange relationship, but Leona can respect someone strong and most of all, doesn't tell him what to do. You believe in free will and freedom above else, which Leona appreciates.

“The concept of one king ruling over all... I can’t say I’m too interested in a land like that.”

Leona laughed at your boldness. With you, there’s no sense about stuffy responsibilities and obligations.

There are sweet days where you and Leona would spend the day in the greenhouse, Leona sleeping soundly as you play your lyre while humming your new poems, the wind carrying your melodic voice.

“Huh, do you have a song for me? Hah, what do you want from me this time? Fine, I’ll let you play.”

Vil immediately clocked something powerful about you, your nonchalant persona is good, but you cannot fool a seasoned actor like him.

No matter, though. Vil has no interest in delving into someone’s past like that. Vil assumes that if you must act so easy-going yet private about yourself, then he won’t pry into such things. One must have reasons, he supposed.

However, Vil cannot let go of your pension for the “occasional” drink or two. Vil doesn’t care that you are older than your appearance suggest, alcohol impacts your body and health as you age so he rather you limit that little habit of yours.

“Come now, Vil. Another bottle wouldn’t hurt~”

“Hmmph, you don’t have to worry much about yourself when you’re drunk but I most certainly do, especially when you come to me reeking of wine.”

But you always managed to quell his anger by singing ballads and poems about your wonderful beloved Vil. That always lifts the Housewarden’s mood and you end up with a mere reprimanding. Hehe.

Vil will not, however, forgive you so easily if you get too mischievous with him. The beautiful man can respect your talent with wind and currents, but he doesn’t appreciate the gust you would conjure up if it messes up Vil’s appearance too much.

“Don’t even think about running away from me. I know you were behind the sudden rush of wind, my mischievous one. Acting cute or sweet words is not going to work this time.”

However youthful you may appear, Malleus can sense an old soul within you which feels familiar and powerful.

Malleus is often surprised by you, for your playful and bold nature while handling the wild winds as skillfully as you hold the lyre. You bear similarities to a certain someone that he can’t help but respect you and hold you to a higher regard than any typical being.

Malleus doesn’t hate that easygoing personality of yours. On the contrary, he enjoys that spontaneous side of yours as you suggest the strangest of ideas to a powerful figure such as him.

“Let's go jumping in puddles and see who can make the biggest splash!“

You are a sociable being, making friends so easily that it baffles the young fae. A few cute words from you and it was suddenly so easy to lower one’s guard around you.

However, when you’re alone and don’t realize his presence, Malleus catches that gleam of loneliness in your eyes as you gaze from your tall resting spot. A look that Malleus feels a kinship with you in that regard.

”You would like to take a stroll with me tonight? Oh, a race in the sky, you say? Very well, but don't be conceited enough to believe I’m so easily bested.”

Dear Sevens, why would you ever let these two chaotic gremlins be in the same vicinity? Do you know no mercy for others?

The two of you would hit it off so well, it’s almost concerning. Lilia finds you a delight to be around, almost a kindred spirit even.

“So, you also took care of a dragon long ago.”

“Yeap, but he sorta became a nation-wide threat when I decided to leave and go off on my own.”

“Ah yes, those things do tend to happen.”

(if you can’t tell who’s saying what, that really speaks to how similar a coincidence that was)

Jamming sessions ALL. THE. TIME. The campus has not known a single moment of rest as you display your musical talents in the courtyard while Lilia encourages you all the way, occasionally playing along with an instrument of his own.

Lilia is fascinated by your lyrical retellings of your world and would love to visit this kingdom that values freedom among all else, and of this dandelion wine you speak so lovingly about.

As a man with his own… history, Lilia isn’t the type to ask too much about you if he sees you dodging the question. He can recognize that familiar look of longing and loss, so Lilia doesn’t press further and instead indulge with you in one more glass of bittersweet wine.

“What tales do you have to regale for tonight? I’m always captivated by these grand adventures of yours, it’s almost tempting for this old soul of mine, hehe.”

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hazybisou · 7 months

Text

❛ HYBE BOY ❜

🧸🩰 i’m a lucky fella, i’ve just got to tell her that i love her endlessly

summary - quinn hughes, captain of the Vancouver Canucks, is dating model, y/n y/l/n and hard launches his relationship leaving people shocked at how beautiful she is and making his brothers question how he managed to pull her.

pairing - model!f!reader x quinn hughes

side note - miranda kerr will be used as a faceclaim for the ig posts. but like she’s so beautiful omgggg 😻😻 *careless whisper starts playing* anyways uni is going so well. my professors are so chill like literally it’s amazing. i barely know anyone here (yes after a whole month here, i only know like 6 people). but uni is amazing my roommate is the best and it’s js a great experience!!

✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫

_quinnhughes

liked by lhughes_06, user01, trevorzegras, and 81,920 others

_quinnhughes i’ll keep this one, thanks. 😃

tagged: @/y/n.y/l/n

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colecaufield found in the wild 🐗🕵️

_quinnhughes ❌

user81 Y/N Y/L/N DATING A HOCKEY PLAYER??!! MY WORLDS ARE COLLIDING 🥲🥲

jackhughes 👁️🌊🫵

user17 jack what is this??! 😭😭

user38 he’s weird

user82 he js built diff

trevorzegras quinnifer got (no) game??!

_quinnhughes at least i have a girl where’s yours *looks around* oh i forgot 🥲

trevorzegras you’re my girl @/_quinnhughes don’t worry 😘

jackhughes AYE!!

_quinnhughes @/jackhughes @/y/n.y/l/n idk what he’s talking abt 😥

y/n.y/l/n trev wishes 😔😔

user93 NOOOO😭!!!!

user72 sad day for us quinn girlies 😔

user57 trevor and quinn are umm…

y/n.y/l/n weird and not okay i know and also very much in love with each other???

user57 yes

y/n.y/l/n have you fixed the bed yet??

_quinnhughes no..

lhughes_06 the beds broken?? oh 😐

y/n.y/l/n he jumped on it to hard and made a leg break

jackhughes YO WHAT

_quinnhughes @/jackhughes in my defense she was chasing me

y/n.y/l/n @/_quinnhughes you caused that to happen when YOU THREW A PILLOW AT ME

_quinnhughes @/y/n.y/l/n IM SORRY TAKE ME BACK

y/n.y/l/n @/_quinnhughes YOURE NEXT TO ME STUPID

trevorzegras ☕️☕️

user92 SHES SO PRETTY OMGGG 💕💕

user29 new wag alert!!!

user69 girlie so fine 😻😻

bradytkachuk emma said to stop forcing her to say you guys are together

ehtkachuk yea bc she’s MY wife not YOUR gf

y/n.y/l/n @/_quinnhughes ^^

_quinnhughes @/bradytkachuk @/ehtkachuk @/y/n.y/l/n why are you all after me 😔😔

colemcward mama y papa? mama. papa.

y/n.y/l/n my son is all alone 😭😭

_quinnhughes he’ll live

colemcward @/_quinnhughes no i won’t

lhughes_06 @/y/n.y/l/n why is he your son and not me???

y/n.y/l/n @/lhughes_06 bc you’re the annoying little brother i wished i had growing up

elblue6 my beautiful daughter 💕💕 and her interesting bf

_quinnhughes i’m your biological son??!

y/n.y/l/n quinny shh 🤫 ALSO MAMA EL 😘😘♥️

user48 parents so cute 🥰🥰

✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫

y/n and quinn had been together in michigan for a week now and his brothers were yet to meet her. she had met his parents a couple months before and they’ve loved her ever since. ellen treated her as if she were her own daughter. they would talk about quinn and his behavior and quinn would be in the back, getting offended. jim was like her second father. he was protective of her and was his little girl even if they weren’t blood related.

the couple were on the couch, all cozy and cuddling when they heard a car pull up outside. quinn looked down at y/n who had her eyes closed, trying to go asleep after being out that day. “babe,” quinn heard a mumble come from the girl, “they’re here.” she grumbled in response.

quinn had told her last night that they would arrive at the lake house tomorrow evening. she was half asleep when he told her so all he got from her was an “okay,” before he began to hear soft snores come from her mouth.

“quinny, let me sleep please,” y/n whispered, “i’ll meet them later.”

quinn just smiled and leaned down to kiss her temple. he rested his head on top of hers and closed his eyes, hoping to sleep as well.

unfortunately, in this household, a good nights sleep was never a thing. that was proven as the front door suddenly burst open which quinn jumped slightly at the action and caused y/n to stir in her sleep, letting out a small whine.

“honey, we’re home!” an, oh, so familiar voice announced.

quinn turned his head to the side and peaked over the couch. as soon as he saw his brothers, he couldn’t help but roll his eyes at their antics and go back to trying to go to sleep.

he heard chattering and the padding of footsteps get closer, indicating they were coming his way. he began to think of a way of how he would get up without waking up y/n. there was no way.

quinn reopened his eyes and saw two figures standing in front of him. “what the fuck?” he questioned and his brothers laughed at his face.

“i see you’ve been having fun.” luke said and his eyes traveled down to y/n’s sleeping figure and he raised an eyebrow at quinn. “like i knew you had a girlfriend but she’s way out of your league.”

quinn let out a fake chuckle. “get the hell out and let us sleep.” he commented and wrapped his arms around y/n, his arm covering her face from jack and luke.

“but we just got here.” jack pointed out and luke murmured in agreement.

“then go up to your rooms.”

“but we want to meet your girlfriend.” luke stated with a fake pout.

quinn glared at the pair. “she’s sleeping so leave,” he stated and closed his eyes, protecting y/n from their view.

“we’re coming back when you’re both wide awake.” jack pointed a finger at quinn before he and quinn went to the front to get their bags and head upstairs.

quinn shook his head and went back to sleep, awaiting the moment of when y/n wakes up.

the couple had surprisingly slept for an hour and a half. it surprised quinn since he knew his brothers and the amount of noise they made whenever one of them were sleeping.

y/n had begun to wake as she had begun to squirm in quinn’s hold. he let out a groan and held her closer to his body, her squirming subsiding. “q, let go.” she mumbled into his chest. he held her tight. “quinn.”

“go to sleep, princess.” quinn whispered, his eyes still closed.

y/n started to squirm once again. “no, i have to meet your brothers as i said before.” she really wanted to meet luke and jack but with quinn’s hold keeping her restrained, it was impossible.

“they can wait.”

“no we can’t.”

quinn snapped his head towards the voice and y/n lifted her head and looked towards the boy. “why are you everywhere luke?”

luke shrugged, “i don’t know,” he sat at the end of the couch, “i just am.”

quinn rolled his eyes and looked down at y/n. “well you’ve met luke,” he told her.

“and the other?”

“i have a name.” jack.

y/n turned towards the boy, “yeah i know. sorry jack.”

jack shrugged and sat next to luke who gave jack a look. “what?” luke stared at him for a second before using all his force to push jack off. he fell with a thud and quinn, luke, and y/n laughed. “asshole.”

“man whore.”

jack looked up at luke. he got up within a second before he pounced onto luke. the two began to fight, jokingly, of course. jack had an arm wrapped around luke who let out a scream. “get off of me.” luke managed to get out despite jack’s arm suffocating him. luke continuously slapped jack’s arm in an effort for his older brother to let go.

“no.” the two continued to fight and quinn and y/n just stayed there laughing at the two.

“well you’ve met thing 1 and thing 2.” quinn said as he looked down at y/n. “i don’t know how they haven’t killed each other in jersey yet.”

y/n looked up at him. “you have a wonderful family.”

“aren’t we just lovely?” luke asked as he wriggled under jack’s hold. “also one more question,” y/n and quinn looked at him, “did quinn force you to get with him?”

jack’s head perked up at this. “oh yeah, did he?” he let go of luke as he turned towards his older brother and his girlfriend.

y/n only chuckled and quinn gave them a death stare. “no, i didn’t. she simply fell in love with me.”

jack and luke looked at each other. suddenly, the two bursted out laughing. both quinn and y/n were confused. they had a look on there face as the younger pair continued laughing. “what?”

“oh, we’re sorry but how is it that a girl like her, take this in a good way, would fall in love with a guy like you?” jack said and luke was still too busy laughing.

quinn looked at them, offended, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“she’s beautiful! and you’re just..you.” luke exclaimed. “like let’s be real here.”

y/n turned to them, “i didn’t fall in love with him because of his looks, i fell in love with him because of his personality,” she looked towards quinn before looking back at the younger brothers, “although sometimes he’s a little interesting.”

“what do you mean interesting?”

“a wet cat.”

✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫

i fucking hate this so much like actually wtff 😭😭 anyways here’s my monthly post and hopefully some of you enjoy it. uni is my new home and umm it’s great!! now my roommate and my friends are making go to a frat tmrw so uhh hopefully it goes well (ik it won’t) wish me luck 🤞

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #nhl imagine #vancover canucks #nhl #nhl hockey #hockey #jack hughes #luke hughes #isa’s works 🦭

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sp0o0kylights · 11 months

Text

Someone on Twitter proposed Steve and Gareth as cousins whose family had a major falling out, and then someone else brought it up recently and long story short no idea who to credit the idea too bc you can’t search for SHIT on Twitter but it's theirs not mine.

Anyway I wrote a lil thing as a warmup

PART TWO

"Why don't you come sit with Hellfire?" Gareth asked, angrily leaned against the bathroom wall while Steve fixed his hair.

He'd tried not to cling since he entered high school. Tried to keep things on the downlow, least any gossipy mouths started running.

It was so stupidly, needlessly, hard.

His cousin was only two years ahead of him but they'd spent the last year in different schools because of it.

That year, and the lack of Steve's presence in it, had grated. Now that he finally had Steve back, Gareth was loathe to play by the rules.

"Sit with you and Eddie, "the freak" Munson? I'll pass." Steve said, but there was no bite in it.

That, Gareth knew, was because Steve was using Eddie as an excuse.

"You'd like Eddie if you spent five minutes with him, King Steve." Gareth fired back on automatic. His fingers dug into his arms, as he resisted the urge to pace around the bathroom floor.

Unspoken was all the shit that had taken place.

Steve and Nancy's breakup. The rumor mill in overdrive, first about how Jonathan Byers had taken creep shot photos of them, then about how he'd taken his shot with Nancy herself.

The supposed cheating, the public fights, the crazy background of Jonathan's little brother being missing.

Billy Hargrove beating Steve to a pulp.

Now friendless, Steve had thoroughly fallen from his place at the tippy top of the social hierarchy and between his utter lack of friends and his shit tier parents, Gareth was concerned.

"You do not want me to sit with you, Gary. I'd tell all your little friends that you're apart of the royal family." Steve turned, making an exaggerated face. "How's Munson feel about cozying up to a Prince?"

"I'd technically be an Earl, Steve, not a prince." Gareth grumbled.

He got an eye roll in response. "Somehow I don't think he'll care."

"I do though." Gareth blurted out, absolutely thoughtless.

Steve blinked at him.

"What?" He said.

In for a penny right?

"I care." Gareth said, looking down and scuffing a shoe, making it squeak against the grimy tiles. "About you. You dick."

"Wow Gary you almost sounded loving there."

For once, he ignored the jab. "I'm worried about you, man." He said it quietly, the painful truth pulled out of him almost by force.

He knew better than anyone how few people Steve had. Knew how his dad was likely taking all the crap Steve had been involved in lately.

Richard Harrington hadn't been the wedge that had separated his and Steve's mother, but the man hadn't done them any favors, either.

His intolerance towards the working and lower classes, his demand for perfection, the way he looked down his nose not just on Gareth's parents but on his own wife and son…

Gareth's mom didn't tolerate it.

Likewise, Stella Harrington didn't tolerate her sister ruining her shot at being a rich trophy wife.

Both their sets of parents were dramatic and neither of them weren't anywhere near the concept of "good" but at least Gareth's weren't neglectful and abusive.

Shitty absolutely, but he never worried about getting thrown out, or that his mom wouldn't acknowledge his birthday because he'd "complimented her outfit the wrong way."

(”It's fine dude she just thought I called her ugly. It was a miscommunication. Dad said it's a good lesson about how women work."

"Casual reminder that your dad's an asshole and also how is telling your mom that she looked lovely in the sunlight telling her she's ugly?”

“It implied she wasn't lovely the rest of the time or some shit, I dunno man.”)

The BMW was a shitty prize when compared what Steve had dealt with to receive it.

"I'm okay." Steve said seriously. "It's almost the end of the year anyways. I can tough out having some extra alone time."

"If you're sure…"

"Yeah man, I'm sure. Thanks though."

Then Steve pulled him into a hug and fuck their parents, who demanded they continued some stupid grudge. Gareth clung to him just as hard as he had at ten. Unsure if he'd ever be allowed to see Steve again.

#steve harringtons shitty parents #steve harrington #gareth #gareth emerson #my beloved lil side character #steve and gareth as secret cousins #SECRET COUSSSIIINS #steve whump #0o0 fanfics

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montygatorshusband · 11 months

Text

Glamrocks X Reader Headcanons

This includes Bonnie and Foxy!

No one requested this I just really wanted to do this :>

Also so sorry this took a while :< I’ll be sure to do more faster 🩵

General Information

“Sleep mode” is basically like a human sleeping, and their new charging system.

They can do stuff like eat, sleep, drink, shower etc.

🧸Glamrock Freddy🎙️

We all know he’s a big sweetheart himbo.

I feel like he doesn’t like PDA, but does enjoy being around you. He just feels it’s very unprofessional!

But if you're upset, he’ll make an exception.

Oh, but if you're alone with him and his friends? He’ll probably just give you silent affection. Just stand behind you and nuzzle you.

When he’s on full battery, he’s a busy bee and often checks up on you before going back to work. If he’s on low battery though, he generally gets kind of sluggish and gets really tired. During those times, he just wants to cuddle you and is quite needy and clingy.

Loves it when you wear any Pizza Plex merch. Whether it be of his friends or himself.

He finds stars and space in general absolutely fascinating. Despite his wishes to not break rules… he’ll put that aside to go out to see the stars with you.

I feel like he loves retro games. Mario and Sonic and stuff. He finds newer ones a bit complicated, and his big hands make his gameplay clunky, but he’ll happily play any you sneak in.

If your having trouble sleeping or just had a bad day, he’ll sing you My Little Sunshine until you fall asleep… probably even afterwards.

He loves singing for you, and loves it even more when you sing with him. He finds your voice hypnotic and even if you think you're bad, he’s not shy to let you know how much he loves your voice.

Plant daddy. Change my mind.

Loves it when you get along with Gregory.

Giant bear boobies. Touch em.

CHUBBY. GLAMROCK. FREDDY. SUPREMACY!!

Loves baking with you. If you don’t know how, he’s happy to teach you!

One of his all time favorite activities to do with you is just cuddling and relaxing after a looong day… watching TV or YouTube or a Movie or whatever. He loves it.

Calls you honey bear.

If he was one of the Seven Deadly Sins, he’d be Envy. (Listen, I know it doesn’t fit. Like, at all. But, the way the rest of the Deady Sins fit with the other Glamrocks is perfect.)

🐊Montgomery Gator⛳️

He’s a complete blockhead. I love him, but he’s dumb. He’s a little stupid. A bit of a fool. Has a small amount of brain cells. Smooth brain. A himbo. A dumb jock. A-

He does have anger issues and destroys his room… but I see it as him being mad at Fazbear Entertainment. Bonnie promised him that when Monty finally got his part on stage, he and Bonnie would play together. Not replacing him. And now everyone sees him as a fame obsessed maniac who wants to dismantle Freddy. Sure, he’s very popular with people, probably one of the most popular, but… does that matter when the person you care about most is gone..?

He’s still a bit sad when Bonnie comes back, since he’s not up on stage with Monty.

Ok angst and stuff aside.

I am completely aware animatronics working out makes no sense but I really don’t care. Like I said, Monty is a Dumb Jock. (Don’t worry, he won’t bully you like the others. In fact he’ll beat ‘em up >:(

Yeah once Bonnie comes back his passion for pranks gets even worse.

A big prankster. Bonnie is his main target.

Flirty. And he’s not good at it.

When he’s confused or focusing really hard on something his tongue slips out of his snout. You got a picture of it and he threw a HISSY FIT. But he reluctantly let you keep it.

Oh dear Lordy. The way he gets oh so embarrassed when he sees you wearing his glasses…

He’s dragged you into the pools of Gator Golf on countless occasions. But after your initial shock, he likes just floating around in there with you.

He’ll happily teach you to swim and play golf. I mean, he’ll always beat you in golf, but the least he can do is give you a chance.

Y'know how people say Roxy is so sure of herself as a coping mechanism? Yeah Monty is like that except he’s just that confident. He thinks he’s the best, and while he doesn’t show off to the point of Roxy, he does crave praise and often boasts about himself to you, trying to impress you. Especially flexing for you.

MONTGOMERY GATOR STOP GETTING HIGH OFF MONTY MIX!

If he was one of the Seven Deadly Sins, he’d be Wrath.

🐓Glamrock Chica🍕

CHUBBY CHICA SUPREMACY!

Yes I’m completely aware her attraction is based around Fitness. I feel like part of her job is to teach kids being a bit more chubby than others is a-ok and comforts those who don’t feel confident for that reason.

So yeah if you're chubby she definitely comforts you if you're insecure about it better than anyone else.

She actually has some anxiety. But you generally make it better!

You're gonna have lots of lipstick on your face. She gets all pouty when you wipe it off.

Listen, if a guest is giving you a hard time, she WILL enter Mother Hen mode.

An absolute pop diva. She’s just swag like that. (Can we bring back swag? No? Oh. Ok :(

While she doesn’t have many songs where she sings, she has an absolutely beautiful voice.

I hope you can handle lots of affection, cause she’s a real affectionate chick!

Watching Soap Operas or Dramas while eating pizza and cuddling you is literally the best thing she’s ever been introduced to.

I hope you’ve got an appetite, cause she makes food that will make you want to gorge yourself! Believe it or not, she will be more than happy to share!

Eating is her coping mechanism, and when she’s very upset and doesn’t want to cook, she resorts to eating garbage. You have to be firm with her about it, but she appreciates you not letting her go to those extremes.

Your personal lil cheerleader.

Man, she soooooo wishes she could have social media! Too bad the higher ups are such party poopers…

Such a giggly lil thing.

If she was one of the Seven Deadly Sins, she’d be Gluttony.

🐺Roxanne Wolf🛞

She’s gotten used to praise for the smallest things, and just because she loves you doesn’t mean you're an exception!

Despite that she’s probably taller than you. (Buff Woman make my knees wobble 🫢)

Y’know those tight outfits race car drivers wear? Yeah, imagine Roxy in that.

Despite being the most popular, only behind Freddy, she has so many self esteem issues and doubts in herself. Many nights are spent consoling her as she cries and yells before wearing herself out and finally settling down and letting you hold her, brushing her hair and tail, cleaning any runny mascara and makeup.

Reluctantly lets you put ribbons on her tail. Might even keep them on.

I feel like Roxy doesn’t use that many nicknames. But, she might call you something every once and a while.

That anxiety of hers means she’s got comfort items, fidget toys, food, drinks, music etc in her room. She’ll add any stuff that helps you, regardless if you have anxiety or not.

Y’know how she compliments herself? Oh good GRIEF I hope you can handle compliments towards you. She CONSTANTLY praises you. But… it’s more so you don’t end up like her. An anxiety-depression ridden MESS. If you're already there though, she’ll help you the best she can. Which luckily, she is the best at!

Whether you be playing racing games, or be in Roxy Raceway, she WILL go all out. Yeah, Rip you.

Despite what you may think, she’s VERY open and VERY proud about her relationship with you. Carrying you around, your neck covered in bite marks and purple lipstick doesn’t leave much to the imagination…

She obsessively reads fan mail in the evening. Even the… ahem, weirder, mail doesn’t bother her. Well, as much as comments from people during the day do at least.

Just… don’t play Monopoly or UNO with her… or Monty. Or Chica. Yeah, just don’t play with anyone really.

If she was one of the Seven Deadly Sins, she’d be Pride.

☀️Sundrop🖍️

He’s a little hyperactive. Ok I lied he’s the most hyperactive.

So if you're quite a lazy person he’ll just be trying to encourage you to play with him and the kids. He genuinely does not realize if you're tired unless you tell him, or it’s SUPER obvious.

I feel like he strictly follows rules, yes, but he also likes pranks. Nothing that will make you upset, maybe just a lil annoyed.

Let’s you, and other kids, draw on him. Just know if you do, A. You have to clean it off and B. He’s not a still canvas. Will be moving the entire time.

Not really a romantic headcanon, but I feel like he and Chica are real good friends.

Wraps his arms around you several times over to hug you.

He hugs you. A lot.

He obviously loves cartoons.

🌑Moondrop💤

I dunno why people see him as a little feral touch starved gremlin. I see him as a constantly sleepy boi that loves cuddling. I mean, I’m sure he cuddles plenty of kids to sleep every day!

In other ways, SOFT MOONDROP SUPREMACY!!!!

Yes, I am aware of how he acts in SB, but I see that more of a side effect of the Glitchtrap Virus rather than his general personality.

He doesn’t enjoy not having a movable mouth. He wishes he could eat candy before bed…

If they were one of the Seven Deadly Sins, they’d be Sloth. (Moondrop more so, but I can see Sun being Sloth after a long day.)

Sorry Sun and Moon don’t have a lot, I don’t really know what to say about them.

🐰Glamrock Bonnie🎳

An absolute DILF of a bunny with that ever loving Aussie accent.

He generally has that energy where anyone will do anything he says. Intimidating and quite good at manipulation (ONLY for your best interests. And his.) (Inspired by : @theodorevg923, who generally also gives me inspiration for all of this, alongside many other Tumblrs :)

He couldn’t care less about not being in the band anymore. He comes out at night and hangs out with everyone. As far as he’s concerned, the stress is taken off of him and he gets more time teaching kids bowling.

Flirty. He’s really good at it.

Loves himself some P to the D to the A.

If someone tries making fun of you for him giving you those public displays of affection, he will tell them to F out of his bowling alley. In a bit of an… angrier way.

Loooves Ice Cream. His favorite way to relax is to eat Ice Cream and go bowling with you. He pretty much has a sweet tooth in general. The public will never find out though. He’s got too much of a public image.

But… kids melt that image. He’s got a real sweet spot for the little rascals.

Monty definitely had and still has a crush on him.

He calls you Clover. I know I know, how original.

If you put on a bit more of a… ahem, reavealing outfit, he will stutter and blush like a mess before going back to his usual calm and relaxed self.

And if you pet his ears? He will absolutely melt. You usually don’t see Soft Bonnie, so take your chance!

If he was one of the Seven Deadly Sins, he’d be Lust.

🦊Glamrock Foxy🏴‍☠️

He’s a small grumpy old man. Ok, I’m exaggerating but I see him as the oldest, and shortest, animatronic in the Pizza Plex (Not including general animatronics like S.T.A.F.F. Bots or the Robot Wet Floor Signs. And Chica, who between you and me, doesn’t realize she’s short.)

But he’s real sweet when he’s not a salty sea dog.

He’s got worse anger issues than Monty, but he doesn’t show it. You can still tell though. His nose and eye twitch. Don’t call him short either, that will get them WAY worse.

Oh yeah, the eyepatch isn't just for display. He only has one eye.

Has a taste for alcohol, specifically rum. Obviously, he can’t get drunk, but he’ll drink with ya, if you're of age and he will cut you off at your limit.

A Bloody Irish Pirate. I will hear nothing else.

He has to rest a lot. Don’t get me wrong, he’s fast, but after he runs or something he has to rest up a little.

Unlike Bonnie, he doesn’t know his place now he’s been shafted from the band. He doesn’t even know why he’s not in the band anymore… but considering you found him pretty much erased from history aside from the odd poster, no recollection of any animatronic even being a fox… he fears the worst.

Yeah you pretty much had to throw a FIT before Fazbear Entertainment fixed Foxy up. An even bigger fit was needed to reintroduce him to the public. An even BIGGER one for him to have his hook during work hours.

Man loves gold and money. He is a pirate.

And if you give him other gifts, he’ll cherish them just as equally.

He’s very jealous. A lonely pirate needs to keep his greatest treasure after all~

Nicknames : Sailor, Captain (Only when you’ve earned it. And only in private.), Sea Star, Pup

If he was one of the Seven Deadly Sins, he’d be Greed.

ALRIGHT ALRIGHT TIME TO WORK ON ACTUAL REQUESTS!

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twistedbloodstain · 4 months

Note

I have two ideas for the marquis de framing that I think you’d do great writing!

1: where the reader is interrogating the marquis (meaning she kidnapped him) and through there, they start to get feelings for each other

2: reader (who had a relationship of some sort with the marquis) fakes their death because they couldn’t take the assassin world. The marquis is devastated (lots of angst hehehe). They meet again while the reader is trying to help someone (maybe John, lol)

3: reader who is part of the high table meets the marquis for the first time. Sorta like live at first sight.

vincent de gramont x reader: i could never give you peace | what’s meant to be is supposed to be

plot: the one where he finds you again.

warnings: the reader’s a medic/healer in here SORRYYY…, she knew john from before, he rats her out lolz, kidnapping except vincent doesn’t do it this time..(yay! cuz he forced someone else to do it!!!), anon im so sorry i focused too hard on one part, i will do an extra (i swear)

masterlist

“stay still.” you mumble.

mr. wick lets out a small grunt while you sew his wound back together, nothing too fatal (at least in his standards) but without the help of any anesthesia or alcohol to soothe the pain, the assassin had no choice but to follow.

“don’t worry, it's almost done.” you whisper almost finished with patching up the flesh on his back. “and..there..”

he immediately gets off his seat and reaches for his shirt stationed on a random desk scattered with medical supplies. he digs into his suit jacket and fishes out a coin and hands it over to you, you accept it eagerly and begin cleaning up.

“you need any help with transport?” you inquire while you discard your bloodied gloves and utensils.

“yeah.”

“on your way out turn left and find the guy with a gray jacket. he’s one of winston’s men, he’ll help you out. where are you headed?” you inquire while washing your hands. he hesitantly answers before offering a reply.

“paris.”

“oh.” you stop in your movements and look at him. he stands near the door way all dressed up with blood caking his temples, he still looks rugged and in no shape to do what he has to do in pairs but your opinion likely doesn’t matter to him.

“good luck, i guess.” you mutter.

“you’ve been there.” he says.

“i..have.” you hope he doesn’t press any further.

“what’s in paris?” he questions but doesn’t take a step further.

“for you?” you uneasily say, he doesn’t reply.

“a dangerous man. i..think you’ll die trying just to get what you want, mr. wick. but hey, who knows? maybe, it’s now him.” you explain.

“the guy who had the continental demolished, was it him?” he sternly asks.

“..yes, i think it was him.” you confess, avoiding his eyes.

it had been almost three years since you left that country.

three years since you left him.

you can’t even bear to say his name because if you do, all of it will spill out. how he met you, how kept you and how he loved you.

he nods, “and for you?”

“an even more dangerous man.”

ever since mr. wick entered and left your clinic. you've been in a constant state of anxiety. the mere thought and mention of him had you nervous, especially when you heard that he was in new york a few days ago. you thought it was all over, that he found you and was going to rip you from your freedom in this city.

the following news shocked you to your core, the new york continental being demolished was not in your bingo card as to why he’d be here. all because of an excommunicated assassin which you had tended to almost a day after the bombing.

although you’re horrified with the state of events, relief flooded you when you realized he wasn’t there for you. you’d still be safe from him.

but you can’t help but think what all of this means for him. at some point, you know that john wick will kill him, and you somehow played a part in it. you feel a tinge of regret for him but it’s quickly overshadowed with the horrors he’s done and you don’t feel as bad.

he did like you though, when you still worked at france for him as his estate medic. whenever he found himself wounded in the line of fire in an ambush attack, you were the one who tended to his wounds and saw him at his weakest. you don’t know why but a strong sense of trust was established between the two of you.

you thought it to be a friendship but fleeting glances of affection would seep through when you talked or when a large bouquet of flowers suddenly appeared in your clinic after patching him up.

you toyed with a pin he gave you, his insignia. only he wore it proudly on his coat and truly, it warmed you to him. he did make you feel appreciated, small touches on your back and sometimes fiddling with your hands whenever you sewed his wounds, gave you butterflies in your stomach.

with you he was just…vincent.

soft words and touches with soulful eyes looking into yours, just gentleness and affection present in him. it made you indulge into it too, that he isn’t the cruel man people made him out to be. he isn’t heartless, that’s just how the world is.

a naive perspective.

a perspective that was easily shattered when you’d hear a bloodcurdling scream from the barn, and he walks out with blood on his hands and a disgusted look on his face from his clothes being stained. gunshots echoing beneath the servant’s staircases and thudding bodies being dragged into the secluded forests of the estate. you whisper to yourself those very same words even if all his actions sent chills on your spine.

but the truth of it is that, he is heartless. he is the man people made him out to be and you’re a fool thinking he could be better for you but at the end of the day, he is still the marquis.

it made you think. what if this is all a game to him? what if the moment he finds you uninteresting you become another stain on his suit?

it’s not a secret that men like him love having delicate pretty things only to break them apart. that’s all you are his current delicate and pretty thing.

you decided to leave. you weren’t staying long enough to find out what would happen to you, feelings be damned when you’re easily replacable to him. you knew that the marquis was like a dog to a bone when he didn’t get the things he wanted, which only pooled fears into your stomach should he find you in new york.

he cannot have you.

you stare at the pin before chucking the pin somewhere in the room, you get up from your chair and begin closing the windows from your clinic.

a knock comes from the door, you chuck the remaining medical materials into a random desk and walk up to the door. wounded assassins aren’t a strange occurrence at this time of the evening but something…felt different.

your gut was telling you to ignore the person on the other side and stay still. you thought that maybe if you didn’t answer the person would go away. wanting to play things safe you don’t mutter a word that would alert them of your presence. it usually worked in some cases.

the knocking persists, much harder and louder now. your hands begins to shake and your eyes start looking around for an emergency firearm to help defend yourself, your actions frantically halt when you hear a voice through the door.

“doc?” a gruff voice asks.

you sight and put a hand on your chest. it’s just john wick. you eagerly open the door to let him in.

“john.” you greet, “come inside.” you invite him as you walk inside.

john doesn’t follow you and a confused expression takes your face, until you take a good look at him. for the first time, john wick doesn’t look wounded to you, his face and hands void of any blood, a new bulletproof suit adorning his body, a french one you notice but it still leaves you questioning things.

“i’m assuming france went successful.” you say.

“…it’s close.” he pauses before replying, seeming as if he’s finding the right words to say.

“what do you need?” you question.

“it’s winston. he’s been shot.” you freeze.

oh dear. you never really approved of the things he did but a soft spot was always present for him and charon. they helped you settle here in new york, but winston took you in even when he knew of your history with vincent. you swore to always help him in ways you could and now the opportunity presented itself.

the car sped down the street with you and john in tow. you hold your medical kit close to your lap, feeling uneasy with the thought of losing the old man. charon had been so recent and you don’t think you bear to lose the friends you’ve made along the way.

you glance at john and he looks calm and composed as usual, eerily so. a week earlier he was calm but you could feel his anger and determination simmering underneath his skin. now it looked like he was taking a walk in a park. you eye him carefully, uneasiness seeping in your stomach.

“did they give it to you?” you ask, he looks at you before clearing his throat.

“just an extension.” he answers, knowing exactly what you were referring to.

“to do what?” you ask again, john doesn’t budge and continues driving, ignoring your question. your eyes stay on him but he doesn’t look at you.

silence settles into the car and you lean back in your seat. you really wish your brought your gun with you right now. you don’t know why but you have a feeling that something is wrong right now, especially with john. he’s not telling you something.

or maybe it really is none of your business. perhaps he wanted to spare the bloody details of how he’s going to win his freedom back. you relax and try to forget the uneasiness, trying to remember that winston is the priority right now, you shut your eyes. all of your fears are gathering together and it’s making you overthink your interaction with john, everything’s okay.

the loud sound of drilling makes you open your eyes, you look at the window and you see a familiar street.

the new york continental was being rebuilt.

your apprehensiveness returns.

“john?” you look at him once again, “who shot winston?”

“he got hit during the line of fire.” this time he replies.

bullshit. winston would have an emergency plan before the shooting started.

“in new york?” you press.

“yeah.”

another bullshit. you could see through his lies, he’s clearly fresh out of france. what was he trying to do?

“j-john.” you voice shakes almost as if you’re begging. something happened in france, something that saved both winston and john.

he looks at you with regret in his eyes. not enough to save you for what’s about to come.

“where are you taking me?” you sputter, your heart beating fast in anxiety, “i’ve done nothing but help you, please don’t do this!”

“he took winston with him and he found out.” he quietly defends.

“please help me, i don’t want to go back!” you begin crying, tears rolling down your face, “he’ll kill me!”

he makes no reply and continues driving. with no hope left with him, you try to open your side of the door. he immediately notices this and grabs your arm trying to stop you from leaving, you begin hitting him with your other arm.

you know that he doesn’t want to do this but it feels so unfair. you’ve saved his life only to throw yours away.

“let go of me!” you scream.

“i’m sorry.”

you feel a prick in your neck.

you feel a heavy sensation pulling at your leg, your eyes feeling groggy still wanting to keep your lids closed. however the sensation persists and this forces you to open your eyes and sit up.

a dark room welcomes you, only a small lamp helping you take a small look of where you are. specifically, on a plush bed and a decorated room. your body feels heavy from exhaustion which makes you lean back to the pillow behind you.

pondering what made you feel so tired when you haven’t done much for the night, you’ve sewn back together…a pair of assassins for the night? or was it three? two austrians and…who?a french? no…no..it was winston.

that’s right.

wait.

only you didn’t treat winston.

you bolt up, your body seemingly sobers from the realization.

john brought you here in exchange for his freedom.

you look around to see some sort of presence in the room but with the darkness it was hard to tell, nevertheless you hopped off the bed and bolted to the wooden door nearby. no wonder the place looked familiar, only the marquis would have a place as frivolous as this.

you need to leave right now. your hand reaches for the door until you find your body being slammed on the floor. a groan leaves your throat, in pain you massage your forehead and look around.

oh goodness.

a gasp leaves your mouth when you see a chain wrapped around your ankle, you inspect your foot before tracing the lines of chains, which were sourced on the thick foot of the bed you were on.

you tug it to check its strength and to see how long it actually goes. it was long enough to walk around the room but not long enough to reach the door. this is basically your fully furnished torture chamber.

fuck. fuck. fuck.

a loud creak echoes through the room.

you really hate how things are right now.

he’s going to kill you. kill you for leaving him, how you easily made him look humiliated for being abandoned.

feeling your knees weaken you sit back on the bed and your hands shake in trepidation. the marquis’ simple presence made you scared of him, you felt tears falling down once again and you lowered your head, not wanting to look weak right now.

his footsteps are heard through the room, the door loudly closes shut, a thud echoing. he doesn’t say a word.

you feel everything leave your body. hope,freedom and life mostly.

he walks up to you until you see his shoes on the floor, a blurry sight entering your eyes due to the tears, he touches you, tilting your chin upwards and you do everything not to flinch. was he going to snap your neck?

you look at him and he still looks the same, slightly more mature.

but the same man you met a few years ago, if you jumped back into your rose tinted glasses, you’d probably see the vincent you cherished at some point if you weren’t so frightened right now.

he inspects you, his eyes wandering through your face. searching for something that’s supposed to be there, his lips part almost as if he’s about to say something but you beat him to it.

“i-i’m sorry. i’m sorry.” apologies spill out of your lips, wanting to take the chance of saving yourself, “i-i’m so sorry! i didn’t mean to.” you cry. your hand reaches up to his hand that held your chin and you grip it for mercy, his hold on you weakens.

he doesn’t say anything and leans forward to you. you need him to say something, anything, whether it meant he’d simply say he wants yuu dead.

“please forgive me, just please don’t kil-“ he cuts you off.

with a kiss.

not a firm one but a surprisingly soft kiss on your lips.

he takes your hands into his and fiddles with it, trying to find his place in them just like before, he halts the kiss and leans towards your face. the man right in front of you wasn’t the marquis, it was vincent.

your vincent.

the one with soft eyes looking at you with relief and adoration. the gaze that looked at you as if you were the most precious thing on earth, he wipes the tears on your cheeks and the next thing he says dissolves all sense of worry out of you.

“i could never hurt you.” he whispers.

author’s note: this kinda doesn’t make sense bc im so braindead rn to expand things but basically vincent finds medic!reader through winston and in exchange for the continental and john’s freedom, john brings medic!reader back to vincent. so basically she got ratted out lolz. this would work better if i made a vincent pov would be fun but i have a bunch of prompts to work on…(tempting) + he literally chained her down to him (hshshsh marriage allegory…) i kinda want to be funky dynamic of obsessed man + “ngl what’s wrong with this guy but i vibe with it” woman

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