#(it's still christmas shhh) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tragedy-of-commons · 1 month ago

Text

HOMECOMING.

── dan heng x gn!reader

summary: Your boyfriend invites you to spend Christmas break with him and his eccentric (but lovable all the same) family. You oblige.

contains: modern and university au, established relationship, comedy and tooth-rotting fluff, christmas shopping, the astral express fam all make appearances (pre-2.7), setting is very american-inspired (sorry), cringefail exuberant reader, one hurt/comfort scene

word count: 11.4k oops

taglist: @singularity-sam, @mitsvriii, @tetrachrxmacy, @bladism, @mikashisus

notes: for @azuresaqua, written for the @/stellaronhvnters secret santa 🎄 this took all month, but i hope you like it crys!! also this totally looks fine on dark mode. if you think otherwise then ummm SHHH. dividers by @/cafekitsune!

Your phone blares with its usual grating ringtone, startling you out of your reverie.

Scrambling to pick the device up, you’re pleasantly surprised. So much so that you drop the sweatshirt in your free hand mid-fold. The caller ID reads Dan Heng, lighting up your homescreen with his contact icon.

A warmth buzzes in your chest as you look it over, a giggle erupting from your throat. The selfie is of you and him, with Dan Heng looking particularly spacey in the midst of the bustling street.

You’re now considerably less bored. You’ve been looking for an excuse to procrastinate doing your laundry all day, and it just so happens to entail talking with your lovely partner. Not waiting any longer, you clear your throat, tap the green accept button, and press the speaker to your ear.

“Hi, darling!” you chirp, shifting to sit more comfortably, “I miss you. How’re you holding up? Still in the library studying the day away?”

The other line crackles with life. “Hello. I feel the same,” Dan Heng informs you matter-of-factly, his cadence clear as a river. “And no, I’m not there anymore. It was… too crowded for my liking.”

That’s no surprise. Finals are upon the whole campus in a few days, and it shows. There is a distinct, depressing atmospheric pressure that weighs upon your fellow students.

The scourge of exams, the final boss of the semester, the enemy of mental fortitude and peace. Though Dan Heng loves your university’s expansive library, you can imagine he’d be less enthralled when a hundred tired young adults are populating it to cram.

“Yeah, I can imagine,” you wince. “Well, look on the bright side. We’re almost done, yeah? Soon enough, the library will be solely your domain once again, and you can be a doll and skim the archives in my stead.”

His voice takes on a sarcastic lilt, affection hidden underneath the words like a hard-won reward. You think it’s an indulgence for him. “If my memory serves correctly, I had to smooth things over with the librarian on your behalf. I don’t think it’s a wise idea for you to loiter there any longer, as energetic as you are.”

How cheeky! Honestly, you’re not even that loud. Sometimes you laugh a little too hard at benign things (like the way some book titles sound out of context), or react too vibrantly at the wrong times (like exclaiming profanities after tripping over your own feet), but those aren’t crimes.

Even now, ruminating over this reasoning, you still don't understand how you got banned from the library. Unreal.

“Hey, come on now! I don’t even loiter… I just want to spend time with you, even if studying isn’t something I burden myself with. That guy has it out for me,” you insist, growing smile threatening to split your face in two. “Anyway, I’m not saying this to be rude, but…”

“But?” Dan Heng asks cautiously.

“You normally don’t call first. Is everything okay?”

You mean it when you ask. Though you love your boyfriend, he isn’t the best at initiating longform communication. Sometimes you’ll get a text with a link to a video he found interesting, or he’ll update you with life (mostly just classes and endless papers), and then you’ll respond by quadruple-texting and then maybe calling him. For hours. And then asking to come over to his dorm. And then falling asleep with him. All at your request, which he doesn’t seem to mind.

That being said, it’s atypical that he takes up the mantle, which makes you worry. And if you worry, Dan Heng feels guilty. Trying not to be patronizing, you patiently wait for him to speak on his own terms, humming to yourself idly. You could, y’know, do your laundry, but you’re not gonna do that. Free will is so cool and awesome.

“Yes, everything’s fine,” he assures, words measured. “I just have something I’d like to run by you, but I didn’t want to interrupt if you were busy.”

“I’m never busy! Spill!” Extremely curious, you pluck your phone from your ear and put Dan Heng on speaker. While you’re at it, you also stand up and pace the short length from your bed to the door of your suite, clothes abandoned on the floor.

“It’s about this winter break. We haven’t conferred on plans yet, but I was planning to ask you if you’d meet my… my family. Of course, it all depends on your availability - don’t feel too rushed to answer, I’d just like to know in advance so I can get things in order on my end.”

Woah, what just happened? You stop walking to think, gears spinning and grinding and pushing all sorts of implications. His family.

Dan Heng has one, yes, he divulges details every once in a while and elaborates on his mishmash of a homelife when you ask, but you’ve never heard him refer to these mystical figures as family. They’ve always been referred to as my friend, followed by their name. You know them well, committing each to memory despite not having met them yet: March, Caelus, Welt, and Himeko.

Of course, you pester your boyfriend about them. Nothing too invasive, just remembering the important details. Asking for updates about March’s creative ventures or inquiring if Himeko’s coffee has gotten any more palatable, to name a few.

In turn, Dan Heng would make a comment about how they also pester him about you. It’s like a big game of telephone - this indirect communication is what you’re used to. It’s kind of surreal to think about actually meeting them after all this time.

Then the joy comes. He wants to share this part of his life with you. Is this the natural next step in your relationship, like all seasoned married couples fondly reflect back on? Dan Heng wants to spend three and half weeks with you, uninterrupted, at home. His home.

Tears prick at your eyes, but you blink them away, grinning like an absolute fool. Does he really think you’ll say no? You’d already do anything to make him happy. Despite being several buildings and crosswalks away from him right now, your hearts feel impossibly close together.

(It’s not like you have anything else planned.)

That thought is pushed away as quickly as it comes. No time for you to be bitter when it’s the season of giving and all things cheerful! This opportunity is nothing short of a blessing… you’re saved from being cramped up inside the inevitably deserted hall for the entirety of break. You’re saved from having to admit to Dan Heng that I have nowhere to go and nothing to do like everyone else.

Shock, joy, relief.

“Oh my god,” you laugh, breathy. With a repressed-young-man-trained-ear, you catch a soft sigh of relief dissipating on the other line. “Yes, of course I want to meet them! Dude, this is so exciting! What if I died? What if I blew up the entirety of campus in my merriment? What then?”

He is far too used to your theatrics to react too strongly to them at this point. “...I wouldn’t put it past you. But I’m glad you said yes. There’s just the issue of details to work out.”

Dan Heng proposes different times on different days to leave. Well, he probably went more in depth than that - he likes to schedule and plan for the future, even if he doesn’t always stick to those self-imposed regulations in the end - probably droning on about the cost of gas or something. But you’re way too shell-shocked to respond coherently, muffling squeals and noncommittal hums that give away exactly how much you’re not paying attention.

Digesting about half of the information, you bring up what you have left to do before winter break after he does the same: registration for next semester’s classes, turning in textbooks for certain courses (thank the stars renting is affordable here), and the remaining days riddled with finals.

Despite how daunting these tasks are for others, you find yourself enjoying the denouement. Guessing on scantrons has gotten you pretty far, and the other obligations can be swiftly eliminated through sheer will and lots of Christmas music. Your Spotify listening history must look like some kind of tinsel-festooned warzone.

This will be your first ever Christmas with Dan Heng. He’s never been extremely festive by any means, but you cajoled him into a matching Halloween costume a month ago, and he is fond of horror movies despite how silly they can be, offering little bits of trivia or his critiques on the film’s score.

You think this holiday, spent at his home, in his hometown - will be the source of many happy memories. It’ll also, hopefully, be another endless source of teasing.

Images flit through your mind, the most notable of which being your stoic boyfriend in a truly hideous red and green sweater. You snicker to yourself until your amusement is disturbed by Dan Heng promptly clearing his throat.

He says your name in that soft way that makes you weak in the knees. You’re under his spell just as much as he is under yours. You should take to reminding him of that more often. “Just to be clear, is this alright with you?”

It’s so much more than alright, you think. Winter, for all of its bitter cold and unforgiving responsibilities, still teems with life as the leaves die. For every day you’ve spent alone during the last two Christmases, you’ll be repaid with one in kind spent with Dan Heng and the people he trusts most.

You’re blessed with the sweet thought that you’re now a part of those treasured, trustworthy few as well.

You know you’ve been treasured for a long time, but feeling it actualized, solidified in action, is as homey and warm as a burning hearth.

“Yeah,” you breathe. “I am, darling. I’m so excited that I think I’m shaking!”

You tighten your grip on your phone, almost leaving indents in the shitty case, attempting to still your vibrating fingers. His response is a mumble along the lines of you should probably eat something, and I’m glad. Dan Heng can be a little awkward, especially over the phone, but that just speaks of his sincerity. He’s glad you’re coming.

You scuttle over to the window beside your bed, yanking the blinds askew to peek outside. A glimpse of the first frost coating the student parking lot promises something more. Something magical and childlike.

Joy. You have a feeling you’re going to be extremely insufferable to any and all scrooges (people rightfully sick of dealing with your chipper attitude) in the coming days. Oh well, they can suck it up because it’s the most wonderful time of the year, and you’re in love with the most amazing person in the world.

You tell him not to worry, which he sighs at, and then the brunt of the conversation is over. The following silence is calm but electric, dragging on for just the right amount of time. A well-deserved respite, you think.

“I love you,” you confess.

“...I love you too. Touch base soon.”

With that, the call ends abruptly. Your cheeks feel hot and you’re reinvigorated, daydreaming of Dan Heng’s expressions obscured by distance - you want nothing more than to see him, but you know your partner well enough to realize when he needs a break; to realize when he needs his alone time. You would never begrudge him for it.

That was a fucking whirlwind.

You shove your phone in your pocket after nudging the blinds back in place. There’s so much to do, and you’re definitely gonna need another run-down of the schedule (preferably in person), but for now, you’ll let yourself be over the moon and overrun with task paralysis.

Triumphantly, you turn to flip off your abandoned pile of laundry. Free will is so cool and awesome.

“We are so back!”

You’re so impatient that you’ve started counting the hours.

The final stretch is a lot more boring than you thought it was going to be. Picking a time to check out of your dorm, fixing up any scuffs on the walls from your shitty posters before room inspection, actually passing your classes. The normal stuff.

Both you and Dan Heng decided that you would leave at around three in the morning on the first day of break. It sounded bewildering at first, and you had levelled him with a look that made him hurriedly elaborate.

“In order to get there at a reasonable time, it’s the best way to go,” he’d said over coffee. “The drive isn’t more than a few hours, but if we leave right after routine inspection, we’d be arriving in the middle of the night.”

Though the mental image of showing up on a quaint little home’s doorstep in your pajamas and waking up the whole neighborhood with your knocking is funny, it’s not funny enough to quell your nerves.

You’ve noticed, usually in the midst of trying to be productive, that the excitement is weighing heavily on your heart. Your hands are perpetually shaky, you’re sweating disgusting buckets, and you’re sure you look as if you’ve lost your marbles to any soul brave enough to strike up conversation.

That last part came to your attention when Bronya, your desk neighbor in your Interpersonal Communications class, dared ask you if she could borrow a pencil. She barely got the question out before she asked if you were alright. And if Bronya asks you if you’re alright, it means that you must look terrible.

Sure enough, you are getting less and less sleep, and you’ve been prone to twitching. In retrospect, you probably had that wild look in your eye that screamed I am at rock bottom and it’s in the public’s best interest that I’m contained.

But you’re not at rock bottom! You’re just nervous, and it’s weird when you’re nervous, because such an occurrence is as rare as a blue moon. You’re going to be meeting Dan Heng’s family in a matter of days, and you’re expected to behave as a normal, functioning member of society. Unbelievable. Even the love of your life has noticed the difference in your behavior - he seems disturbed but respectful.

You recall him asking if you were ill, which you had vehemently denied. Then he kissed you under the thin covers of his bed, and everything was fine for a moment.

But you think you’re feeling better on this day in particular. To distract yourself from the anxiety, you’ve sunk deeper into the holiday cheer. With Dan Heng at your side, you’ve blown off classes for the day to go gift shopping. The outlet mall near your university is always bustling, but during this time of year, you’d think there’s an overpopulation crisis wreaking havoc on your city.

Escalators are crammed with excited children dragging their parents along, there are decorations painstakingly put up in every nook and cranny, and you have a mission to see through.

“Thanks for ditching to help me out,” you preface. “It’d be way too difficult to shop for your family on my own. Just the idea of stress-buying things they may not even like… ugh. Also, wow! I realized you haven’t told me jack shit about them! I’m actually clueless.”

Dan Heng is not amused, but he doesn’t outright refute your assertion. “I suppose you have a point. And I didn’t ditch class,” he emphasizes, ears red. “Psychology got canceled.”

Here, among the sea of people, Dan Heng looks his least confident. While you, the person known for befriending every stray cat you meet, look your best.

The juxtaposition makes you feel fuzzy, and you know in your heart that he would've helped you anyway, even if he had class. He can be so obvious but so subtle at the same time. You tug on the sleeve of his sweatshirt once, purely affectionate.

“Right. Uh, where do we start? Who’s the easiest to shop for?” you wonder aloud, crossing the stretches of marble and doing your best to peer down the massive store-lined strip. “We could start with March. She’s into crafty stuff, right?”

Your boyfriend tames a cowlick in his dark hair. “Yes. You seem to have a plan figured out already, but she uses up heaps of film while taking photos. An arts and crafts store would likely have the 600 type for her Polaroid. That’s what I had in mind in terms of a gift she’d appreciate.”

“We seem to be on the same page, but that just sounds so… impersonal! Bit of a safe choice, don’t you think? Let’s play it by ear and see what they have. I’m sure she’d also appreciate something handmade. I think I have enough time to DIY a gift; they probably have kits for all sorts of stuff.”

Dan Heng is starting off in the direction of the correct storefront. The display window is easily spotted, plastered with all kinds of paper mache ornaments. “You don’t need to fret. Knowing her, she’ll love anything that comes from you.”

You blink, grinning. “Really? Didn’t know I was so popular.”

“You have no idea,” sighs Dan Heng.

Warmly titled Make n’ Create, the door chimes, signifying your entry. Immediately, you’re assaulted by the smell of candles - a few hundred thousand, you hazard.

Scents of vanilla and evergreen paired with cinnamon burn your nostrils as you survey the aisles of winding shelves overflowing with endless possibilities. Almost forgetting to return the greeting of the woman behind the counter, you snap out of your stupor and drag your boyfriend along.

Everything looks enticing… your savings account is telling you to be responsible, but your heart is telling you to snatch up and squirrel away any item of interest just in case. You wander the marble floor under the bright fluorescents, humming under your breath. “Hey, we can probably save some time and split up. Could you go look for the film? We’ll definitely get that along with whatever catches my eye.”

Relieved to have something to do, Dan Heng nods and disembarks from your side, perilously weaving between other shoppers buzzing with excitement. He mentioned that he deliberately put off Christmas shopping since you insisted on doing it together, the thought alone satisfying.

The prospect of scrawling both of your names on the same box, passed off into eager hands. The words will read From: Dan Heng and his partner.

Rounding a corner, the pottery and ceramics section calls to you like a siren. There are stocks upon stocks of white, unpainted Christmas trees and wreaths, advertised as blank canvases to decorate as your own - paint included. Those are cute, but something relevant year-round would probably be received better.

Impressions, impressions. Your gaze drops lower, dutifully searching…

Aha!

Ceramic jewelry dishes. Same gimmick as the trees and wreaths, but not necessarily seasonal. There are a few different types among the kits - heart-shaped, some with hinges that open and close, even some with music box elements with heftier price tags.

Your intuition slaps you across the face multiple times. March will love one of these, you just know it! Cautious, you spare a shifty glance from left to right before squealing to yourself. The package in your hand is crisp and promising as you check over the price and instructions.

Dan Heng returns to witness your perfect find. You know this because you recognize the soft padding of his footsteps anywhere (which is not creepy). You turn to see him and the fond look in his eye - and the aforementioned packages of film he’s clutching.

“Hey, you,” you chuckle. “You found it, great! Anyway, look what I stumbled upon. Do you think she’ll--” “Yes,” he breathes, suddenly decisive. “She will. Especially the heart one.”

Quickly heeding the ever-rare suggestion from Dan Heng, you discard the now inferior package and seize the heart-shaped one. “I trust your judgment. She has good taste, honestly. Thanks for your help, love, I appreciate it. I know for a fact she likes pink, and though my hands are a little clumsy… I’ll make a masterpiece outta this, trust me.”

He exhales through his nose. That’s a laugh if you’ve ever heard one. “You sound so resolute…”

“Duty-bound, if you will,” you grin. “We can move on to the next place if you’d like. Didn’t expect to be done here so fast.”

“...wait.”

You tilt your head, following his line of sight back to the shelves. He seems transfixed on something else there, and a few seconds go by in silence as you’re left to figure out what it is on your lonesome.

Dan Heng has gotten better at speaking his mind - he was never bad at it, but sometimes words get tangled up in his reticent hesitation. You understand this well. So, you try to determine what’s caught his eye. The understanding you come to is a nice one. The lowest rung of the shelf, almost overshadowed, are more ceramics - no surprise there. But it feels like fate the way that they’re displayed; two sturdy coffee cups with intricate handles, then a miniature raccoon forever inlaid with a devilish expression, practically commanding a paintbrush to make its mischievous grin come to life with color.

Himeko, Welt, Caelus.

You laugh, loud and bright, grabbing your boyfriend’s hand with a conspiratorial grin. “Four birds with one stone, huh? We’re gonna need a cart!”

Dan Heng is blushing. It’s subtle, not at all burning or obvious to any nosy bystanders, but it’s enough to make your heart sing with delight. You take it he’s glad that you picked up on his thoughts so wordlessly.

He excuses himself after muttering something about going to get the cart while you smile like an idiot. A lovestruck idiot. A lovestruck idiot with a soon-to-be overdrawn bank account.

…well, not exactly. After you gather everything and go to check out, he insists on paying for all of it. You make sure to argue with him in front of the very amused cashier, reaching a compromise in no time at all thanks to your amazing negotiation skills. He’ll pay for this load (whatever), and you’ll pay for any remaining splurges today. It’s only natural you need to stop by a few more places, considering March has two gifts while the others only have one.

By the time Dan Heng’s social battery is drained and yours is frayed, you have everything. An apparel outlet that you would’ve never stepped foot in normally now has your patronage; a golden brooch in the shape of a rose (that’s surprisingly affordable) for Himeko, a classy but patterned tie for Welt, and a trendy jacket for Caelus.

You think you’re the most jealous of that last one - it has many pockets and takes up enough space to suffocate a small orphan.

Hauling the bags into the icy parking lot, you suddenly stop in your tracks, feeling the generous weight of your spending in the process. “Hold on.”

Your tired but loving partner heeds your command. “What? Is something the matter?”

“We forgot to shop for each other,” you point out, sheepish and breathy. Seems you’ve both been so caught up in the tradewinds that you forgot. “Should we go back inside?”

“No,” he blurts, “I’ve already acquired your gift.”

Gobsmacked, you almost drop your share of the bags. He’s been holding out on you?! The surprise quickly fades into mushy limerence before it dulls. “Huh? When did you do that? Oh shit, I haven’t gotten you anything yet… dude, I’m sorry, I’ll head back inside, all secret mission-esque and find you something while you wait in the car--”

Dan Heng shakes his head. “You… you don’t have to.”

The hell? Does he even know how Christmas works? “Of course I do, come on,” you push forward. Knowing you’ve already forgotten where you’ve parked, he strides out in front of you and leads the way, preparing to argue his case. “We’ll put these in the back, and I’ll find you an amazing gift, you’ll see.”

You both reach his little beat-up sedan (which you’ve aptly named Granny), while he fumbles for his keys. He sighs, rolling the frigid joints in his shoulders as he opens the driver’s seat to unlock the trunk. Setting the bags down on the gross pavement is unfortunately inevitable. You throw the thing open, already loading.

Dan Heng’s rebuttal is almost startling.

“I don’t need an ‘amazing gift’. I have you.”

You freeze. Where did he pull that from? Are you hallucinating again? Is this like the time you stayed up for two days straight to half-ass a dozen unfinished assignments? Or maybe it’s selective hearing… such a line is probably from an old romcom that you’re mentally regurgitating and then projecting onto him.

But you don’t tease or ask him to repeat it. Instead, you choose to fully believe and embrace that compliment, warming your heart and your cheeks. His expression is obscured from your position, but he probably looks the same.

“I’m… really glad you think so, Dan Heng,” you almost whisper.

Before he can say anything else that’ll ruin the moment, you decide that’s your job! and slam the trunk closed, deafeningly loud.

“But that’s unacceptable! I’ll find you something perfect in the coming days no matter what!”

You hear him sigh before you hear his approaching footsteps. “Try not to stress too hard about it. Also, open that back up, there are more bags.”

“Oops,” you giggle. “Why not ask me nicely, like in that Romeo way you did five seconds ago?”

Your other half rightfully elects to ignore you.

As you finish wrapping up with him at your side, the subsequent ride back to campus is in comfortable silence. The buzz of what’s to come lingers on your mind as you stare out of the passenger window at the familiar scenery. You’ll find time to squeeze in finding a gift for Dan Heng, you’ll make sure of it.

But for now, what to pack for the impending trip…?

You wake to the sound of your blaring alarm. Scrambling for your phone to make the thing shut up, you’re blinded by the time. It’s 2:30 in the morning, you’re disoriented, and you desperately want to go back to sleep. But when you really come to a minute later after hitting snooze, it all sinks in.

Your room inspection is over with, your finals have been taken (you didn’t fail any of them, yay), and you have to leave campus with Dan Heng in about thirty minutes. Surreal that you’re awake at this hour, you go about getting ready - this includes texting the man of the hour to make sure he didn’t oversleep.

To your satisfaction, he responds swiftly. To your horror, he mentions that he’s ready and waiting. Unfair, in your opinion - why is he always punctual, and why are you always late?

You look in the mirror at your haphazard reflection. Not too shabby; just a leisure t-shirt and some sweatpants, pulled together by the thickest jacket you have since it’s grown even colder out. Your bags are already packed and practically bursting at the seams, loaded with your essentials, and of course the presents for Dan Heng’s family.

You spent all of your free time crammed between everything else painting the ceramics while he wrapped and made everything else look pretty.

(You almost got crudely mixed pink paint on your dorm wall - well, you did just a little bit. Luckily it came off without the need to go sprinting to the nearest hardware store in pursuit of a cover-up job. That would have been bad. Very bad. Also, you left the primary suite door open to ventilate, and at least three students walking down the hallway witnessed your perfectionism-driven breakdown. Also, your suitemate hates you now.)

All of that’s over, though. Making sure you have everything once, then twice, then three whole times - you decide it’s finally time to go. You lug everything out of your dorm, down the hallway, into the elevator, and wait as it descends.

You check your phone, updating your boyfriend as the cabin grinds to a halt on the ground floor. Outside is nothing short of beautiful, if not hypothermic.

Snow falls in tiny flurries that make the dark cement purgatory look like a dream. The floodlights leave some corners of the parking lot shadowed, but illuminate Dan Heng just right. You spot him and his old ass car smack dab in the middle of all the empty spaces, just about everyone having vacated already.

“Hi, darling,” your breath syncs with the air as a wispy cloud. You kiss his cheek. “You ready?”

“I have been for the better part of an hour,” he informs you, perhaps a little grumpy from waking up so early - or it could just be that wry sarcasm rearing its head.

You find that Dan Heng is neither an early bird nor a night owl, oscillating between the two like nobody’s business. He’s up when he needs to be, including now, softened under the touch of your lips.

And so, without much fanfare, the road trip commences. It’s notably different than the other times he’s chauffeured you around - so silent and grave. It kind of puts a damper on the Christmas spirit you’ve so painstakingly adopted, but you think twice about cranking the radio. He is the one driving, after all.

You offered to switch with him halfway, and to his credit, he thought about it. But then Dan Heng politely shook his head and muttered something about bad weather and hydroplaning. Whatever a hydroplane is, you aren’t sure what it has to do with you being untrustworthy behind the wheel.

The pleasant blast of the heater, the occasional robotic warbling from the GPS app, and the noise of the light drizzle outside are your more talkative companions. You’re getting antsy; you feel it in the bouncing of your leg and how you mindlessly chew on the dead skin of your bottom lip.

Should you try to ignore it? Put on your headphones and tune out? The thought is appealing.

Instead, you pipe up a few minutes before you’re due to turn on the interstate.

“Wanna get coffee?” you singsong. “I mean, you especially are going to need the caffeine to keep awake. Sleep deprivation is, like, the number three reason people get into car crashes.”

Dan Heng huffs in amusement. You’re glad that got some kind of reaction out of him, glad that the stoney silence has been broken. But if you’re being completely honest with yourself (which you really hate doing), this detour suggestion is just an excuse to delay the inevitable. For all of your joy, lingering anxiety chips away at your trademark smirk.

You decide to bribe him just a little. “I’m buying.”

He turns into the nearest place without any further prodding. The coffee, which you have successfully paid for by the way, is nice. The searing light of the menu options, clambering over Dan Heng to place your orders as loud as you can because you know it’s hard for them to hear anything - fleeting memories of taking orders at your high school part-time job and all that.

As you take the cup holder tray from your partner, ferried through the drive thru window, he speaks up, much to your chagrin.

“You’re nervous,” he says, leaving no room for doubt. You continue to situate the drinks and glance into the side view mirror, taking a sudden rapt interest in the line forming behind you.

You decide to lie. Maybe he’ll be merciful and let you work this one out on your own. “Me? Nervous? Whatever gives you that impression? Perhaps you needed the coffee more than I thought… poor Dan Heng, so tired that he’s hallucinating…” you whistle.

Gaslighting, unfortunately, doesn’t work. Persuasion check must’ve rolled off. Dan Heng says your name, soft but stilted in a way that makes your heart ache. He rolls out of the drive thru after checking the rearview mirror, his knuckles white around the steering wheel. They gain their color back after he realizes you’re staring at them.

“I’m nervous too. Extremely.” You’re back on the highway, and you fiddle with the GPS to get yourself back en route, taking in his words as they come. Dan Heng is being candid with you; encouraging. “Going back home is always an… ordeal.”

You deflate a bit, conflict warring on your face. Considering how flustered he gets when you dote on him, albeit within his limits, you can’t imagine how exhausting being fussed at from all angles would be. Not like he’s a kid, but that he’s returning home after another semester of being independent.

“Yeah, um, I can imagine. I don’t know much about that stuff, but it’ll probably be amplified with me coming with you. We’ll get through it together and have a great time.”

You say it to convince yourself more than him, but it works. Perhaps that was his plan all along?

“Yes,” agrees Dan Heng. “We will.”

The interstate stretch, predictably, is the most sizable chunk of the trip. Temptation whispers in your ears tantalizingly, the idea of a nap or two at the forefront of your sleep-addled mind. The soft pitter-patter of the rain against the windshield battling with the snow makes it even harder to resist.

So, you doze soundly in your reclined seat, nice and warm. You think you feel a hand, cold and calloused, brushing against your cheek, but fighting it would require waking up to demand he focus on the road! It retracts, and you’re out for a good long while.

You know that for a fact, because when you wake up, dawn is encroaching. The stars are still visible against the bleeding horizon. You feel much better, even if Dan Heng suppresses a smile at your expense - you seriously must look wrecked from a few simple hours of rest. Geez.

You yawn, waking up to chat. Your boyfriend looks unruffled, cool eyes scanning road signs for a place to apparently fuel up.

He tells you that there’s only about an hour or so left, the ETA checking out. Nerves flood your system, but after a deep breath and stepping out to stretch your legs, you feel better.

“Who knew you were so good at pep talks,” you tease, if not to hide the fact you’re completely enamored with him. You fill up the tank after he cuts the engine, purposefully yelling so he can hear your words through the rolled up windows. “My man, the motivator!”

You hear his ensuing groan, claiming mental victory as the pump dings. Easy.

Staring at the signs of his hometown, a foreign sense of wonder engulfs you as you split from the interstate. Has that diner been there since Dan Heng was a kid? Did he even spend all of his childhood in one place? Should you ask, or is that too invasive?

The trees lining the grassy outcrops are tiny and thin, likely just having been planted by the city. How much has changed since you’ve started monopolizing his time?

Your questions spill out, and he does his best to answer them - but he also seems nostalgic, wistful and pained. Your earlier revelation rings true; you don’t know much about Dan Heng’s past.

That’s slowly changing as he tells you some stories, though his words are messy and create a muddled image in your head. You don’t push too far, chattering his ear off in response to keep things lighthearted.

(Maybe you’ll be more open about yourself too. Maybe.)

Then you careen into a residential area. It’s more suburban than you expected for a city-town hybrid of this size, streets of apartment units and then gated communities of houses. You whistle because you’re almost there, you can feel it!

“Which one is it, huh?” you pester, practically pressing your face against the glass. “Come on, pick up the pace a little!”

“I am not keen on getting a ticket this far in. A few more turns.”

True to his word, a row of townhouses come into view. They’re not massive, but the few you see are brimming with character. Full, decadent awnings and aged brick matched with just the right colors to make your brain happy. They look lived in, filled with memories that you’re eager to digest and, hopefully, be a part of.

Dan Heng pulls into the driveway of the oldest-looking one and parks. The GPS drones on, informing you of your arrival. Your anxiety has almost entirely abated at this point, thank the heavens and stars, and it’s near time to face the music with open arms.

“What a nice place! I guess we should greet them, and then start unloading?”

He nods. It’s still cold out, but less so than at school. Stepping out onto the pavement gives you a little thrill, and you trail behind Dan Heng, stuffing your hands into your jacket pockets as you stare at the front door.

It has a little brass knocker in lieu of a doorbell, and you reach out to grasp it on instinct. Your hand brushes his that had reached out at the same time.

You wiggle your eyebrows at him.

He sighs and finally knocks after you reel your grubby hand back. It all comes down to this - kind of anticlimactic from someone else’s perspective, but paramount from yours. Who will answer the door?

The answer is immediate: Welt. The thing creaks open, revealing a tall, older man with graying brown hair and glasses. He’s utilizing a cane and looks exactly like you imagined, distinguished and fitting right into the scene with his creme turtleneck and kind eyes. He regards you both, first Dan Heng, then you.

“You’re here early. Welcome back - and I see you’ve brought them, as promised,” Welt’s voice is warm, and you get the feeling the small smile he’s wearing is quite rare. “Come in, we’ve been waiting on you two. It’s an honor to meet Dan Heng’s esteemed partner.”

You’re utterly awestruck, responses forming on your tongue only to dissolve into garbled nothings. As you robotically follow inside, you watch as Dan Heng falls into an awkward-looking side hug with Welt - quickly averting your eyes so they can have a moment. Then, you can’t contain it anymore, speaking to your heart’s content.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too. I’ve heard a lot - well, not a lot, but enough,” you ramble unapologetically, taking in the decor of the foyer, “and I’m really excited to be here, you have no idea. Are those Ray Bans? You have a lovely home!”

Your boyfriend, wetting his chapped lips, communicates silently with Welt. You think it’s something like a greeting, a familial synergy you can’t quite grasp yet. Maybe it’s a warning: I am dating an idiot chatterbox, please be nice to them.

That seems unlikely; necessitates further observation. This is just like Animal Planet.

“Thank you, I recognize your sincerity. It’s a rare trait, these days,” he mutters mostly to himself, probably reminiscing on some mysterious past. He goes on to curtly answer your more frivolous questions while leading the two of you deeper inside. Dan Heng squeezes your hand and you share your own telepathic glance with him.

This is going well!

The interior of the living room is striking, bearing the marks of age and care. You recognize most of the furniture as antiques - leather couches and loveseats with beautiful upholstery, a sage grandfather clock standing tall near the stone fireplace, and overflowing bookshelves that’d satiate even the most voracious of readers.

Paintings adorn every wall, not a square inch left blank. The mantle boasts many trinkets and baubles of various cultures, some of which you recognize - and some of which you don’t. Those could definitely be a great conversation starter!

So charming, so quaint, so rich in history! You’d wax poetic and stare at each nifty little thing until your eyes bled if you could.

“Darling, I didn’t know you were so well-off! Maybe I should start calling you Mr. Old Money.” “...please don’t.”

Welt hides a chuckle in his gloved hand before surveying the room. “It seems everyone is doing their own thing. I’ll go get Himeko, she must be in her study,” he throws a look over his shoulder, uttering your name with just the right amount of phlegm. “Welcome. Don’t be afraid to make yourself at home.”

And you’re left alone to breathe for a short minute. You run your thumb over Dan Heng’s knuckles reverently, pondering aloud. “He’s so cool! He’s an animator, right? I’ve heard you mention something like that before.”

He nods. “Indeed. He’s worked on various pitch bibles for all kinds of IPs, but he’s more content on assuming quieter roles in the industry, or so he’s told us. His passion is what carries him, not the spotlight.”

“...that’s a great way to live,” you marvel. The air feels vulnerable after that, the nature of something as intangible as family running through the undercurrents of the house. “Do you think he’s right for being so humble?”

“It is not my place to comment, but… I can say that I look up to him,” he admits, giving your hand a shy squeeze. “Himeko is similar. She’s--” “--enthralled to finally meet your acquaintance?”

A new voice cuts in. Himeko is also a vision, donning a winter shawl that wraps around a sepia-colored dress with tights, topped off with a beret. She looks absolutely stunning, and you’re overwhelmed with the urge to compliment her profusely. She stands at a comparable height to Welt, expression softened with mirth.

“It’s long since overdue,” Himeko extends a handshake which you take. Your jaw must be scraping the floor, which Welt and Dan Heng see fit to ignore.

She whips a ruby curl out of her face to scrutinize you - shit, you probably should’ve worn something nicer. First impressions and all that!

She greets Dan Heng with a hardy embrace after letting your hand go. He stands rigid.

“I was beginning to think he was making you up,” she teases. “When you both settle in, we have a lot to catch up on. Can we help you with your bags?”

You grin at your boyfriend, nudging him with your elbow. “Whaddya say, huh?”

He nods, shoulders slumping as if he’s made it past some great obstacle.

“Great,” Welt interjects, heading back towards the front door with Himeko in tow. Dan Heng turns to you, voice akin to a whisper.

“March and Caelus are probably in their bedrooms or,” he sighs, “conspiring elsewhere. If you’d like, you can go on and look around while we deal with the luggage. It’s a lot to get used to, and you’re better off getting your curiosity out of your system.”

You gasp, splaying a hand over your heart. “You say that like I’m some unruly child! I’m not going to break anything…”

Dan Heng gives you a look.

“...this time,” you begrudgingly add.

Before he can hurry after them though, you gingerly (roughly) grab him by the collar and give him a smooch. It’s over as quick as it began, and you barely get a glimpse of his scandalized visage before you set off to explore.

The adjoining hallway leading you out of the living room is painted stark white, all kinds of framed photographs hanging on display. Most of them are noir shots of famous people; movie stars, historical figures and the like. You stop in your tracks to look each of them over.

Some aren’t so impersonal. For example, there’s one of Himeko standing in a train station, posing on the platform with a massive and austere steam locomotive behind her. There is also a gray-haired dude at her side, pointing at the train with an exaggerated expression of shock. Caelus. And the photo’s signature - March 7th.

Right on time, before you can continue snooping, you hear the distinct noise of bickering further down the hallway. You grin, sensing drama like a blood-sniffing shark.

The muffled racket becomes clearer as you approach what is probably a bedroom door, and you hesitate for only a second before not-rudely throwing it open. You can deal with the consequences later. After all, this sounds more like banter than a serious argument - you would know!

The first thing you see are two figures with their backs turned to you. Pink and gray hair hunched over a desk - Caelus sitting and clicking furiously with March pointing at the one of the three flashing monitors, posing a threat to this hell of a gamer setup.

“You actually suck at this! Log off already, Dan Heng and his guest are going to be here soon,” she chastises as Caelus huffs, him dying moments later (in Pac-Man of all things). “Seriously, this is as boring as watching paint dry. I don’t know how you have so many viewers…”

You blink, scrutinizing the monitors again. Yes, there’s Pac-Man, but there’s also a live chat that seems to be going crazy, dozens of messages burying even more dozens of messages. There’s a facecam too, framing all three of you - wait, three?

Oops. You’re live on Twitch.

“March is just a grade-A hater,” Caelus declares to his audience, “always betting against me. I’ll have all of you know that I, Whisperer of Dumpsters, Toilet Destroyer--”

A groan. “Not this again.”

They seem oblivious to the fact that you’re here, and you clamp a hand over your mouth to suppress a laugh. Clippers must be going nuts right about now…

Dan Heng never mentioned that Caelus took this career path - but then again, you can imagine he was trying to avoid the headache of you pestering him with stream references. Either way, you’re here now, and you’ll be damned if you pass up an opportunity this golden.

“They’ve been keeping me in the basement for three years!” you yell, causing both of them to jump and turn in bewilderment, “They’re frauds, kidnappers, liars--”

“We’ve been what?!” March shrieks. She’s either 1.) quickly adjusting to your improv and playing along or 2.) now wholeheartedly convinced that you’ve been held captive here under the floorboards.

The chat lags from how fast messages are coming in, and Caelus cackles maniacally before mashing a shortcut on his keyboard to switch to a Be Right Back screen. What a performance, and you also burst out in laughter, not unlike his.

“Well, you certainly uh… made an entrance,” March grimaces, looking only slightly mortified. That sourness fades into a friendly smile as she scratches the back of her head. “It’s so nice to finally meet you. Oh my god, c’mere!”

Caelus stares at you with beady eyes as she bounds towards your form in the doorway, engulfing you in a giant hug. You feel like crying again. This was supposed to be unserious, but you can’t help but already feel at home.

“It’s nice to meet you too. Your hair clips are so cute!”

You exchange pleasantries for a moment before you hear creaking. Caelus has stood up now, an unreadable expression on his face as he approaches slowly - like molasses slowly. One menacing stomp in front of the other like he’s trying to intimidate a bear. You tilt your head curiously while March spins around to look at him.

“What are you doing?”

“Group hug. Bring it in,” he answers cryptically.

March wrinkles her nose. “Why do you sound like that? You’ll creep them out!”

Caelus turns to you, looking for confirmation. Immediately, you understand what you must do. This chemistry you share with this kindred spirit should be studied in a lab under a microscope.

“Collective embrace,” you parrot. “Bring it in.”

“...so you’re both weird, huh? Just great.”

You respond by smushing both of them in a crushing hug, a chorus of giggles echoing off the walls, all three of you being the perpetrators.

This year’s holidays are off to a great start.

Things surprisingly don’t drag on.

What that means is a little hard to quantify; nebulous like carbon monoxide. You can’t see it, you can’t taste it, but it certainly takes its toll.

The first day comes to a close after a shared dinner, a feast, really - you’d never seen so much food in your life and you scarfed it down like a starving man in between conversation on every topic under the sun. You’ve fallen into the swing of things so naturally, and while that’s good, it’s a little too good.

You’ve never considered anxiety to be a formidable foe in your life. You carry conversation, pass the cornbread, spice up everyone’s lives (sometimes at the detriment of your reputation), and most importantly, you do it with a smile.

But after a night or two spent in Dan Heng’s almost spartan bedroom, tossing and turning, you’re starting to believe you’re in more trouble than you thought previously.

The nerves are easy to suppress when you’re bouncing energy off someone else, lost in the moment, because you do truly enjoy the socializing - but that feeling lingers.

And when you’re left with nothing to do, staring at the ceiling with a vengeance on the third night of your stay, all of the doubt catches up. It gains ground until your heart thunders in your chest.

You’ve learned that Himeko is buddy-buddy with the department of transportation, doubling as an engineer and cartographer. She’s even had a part in restoring defunct trains to their former glory, spearheading many vacations along the way.

(You don’t deserve to be privy to such a meaningful story.)

Caelus can’t ride a bike. Neither can you. Upon coming to this seismic revelation, he offered to take the plunge with you in an attempt to learn if you were interested. You agreed before he could even get the full sentence out.

(You’re only good at goofing around.)

March insisted that you be a temporary proofreader for her own university essays, most of which being on topics you could never wrap your head around in a million years.

Shenanigans ensued until you ended up denouncing higher education as a whole, choosing to believe in her own freestyle structure rather than whatever hellish rubric was being peddled.

(You’re too airheaded to help in a normal way.)

You’ve even grown closer with Welt. You two listened to the crackling of the old gramophone in his respective study, chiming in with your own thoughts on his archaic but classic music taste. There was a little bit of discussion on media preservation, your earnest passion pairing well with his own.

(You’re coming off too strong.)

But you feel the worst about the man sleeping next to you.

You’re supposed to be in your highest spirits, but Dan Heng has gotten good at spotting your tells. The tightness of your smile comes off as overjoyed to your new friends, but strained to him. The guilt of possibly ruining it all is unforgiving, tightened about your neck like an evil scarf.

He knows something’s up, and you know that he knows. It’s on you for not being forward about your struggles - hell, you’ve scolded him countless times about how he clams up about feelings and all that mess. You’re just a little bit of a hypocrite, then. What would you even say on the subject?

Sorry I’m such a buzzkill? Sorry I haven’t been more open with you? Sorry that I’m the actual wors--

You muffle a sob, burying your face in Dan Heng’s pillow. You just need to calm down, even if that means getting snot on his nice shams. You hiccup, and to your muted horror, the mattress creaks with movement.

Voice rough with sleep and alarm, Dan Heng calls out to you. You tense but otherwise refuse to lift your head up from your comfy sanctuary, chest rising and falling in snappy bursts.

You can’t face him like this, so tangled in everything you feel. You feel so unbelievably guilty, even if a more sensible part of you knows you’re just overthinking.

“Please look at me.”

If you’re making comparisons, Dan Heng must be the wind. Gentle and mild like a calming gale, never a torrent eager to knock you off your feet. No, he is sobering like a wayward breeze. His plea is so soft, and you only hate yourself a little bit for giving in and meeting his eyes.

His hair is sticking up in every direction just like yours. It’s not a foreign sight - you’ve slept in the same bed at least a hundred times, but the worried frown tugging at his lips is new. You sniffle and wipe your face, words a jumble of nonsense.

“Try to breathe. It’s going to be alright,” he swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing. “I’ll wait.”

That last part might sound impatient in some other context, but right now, it’s resolute - it’s a promise. He’ll wait until you’re ready, however long that will take.

You crumble, shakily inhaling and exhaling until you sit up to mirror his stance. You fumble to embrace him, which he accepts readily - not unused to your spontaneous acts of affection.

However, there’s a stutter in his movements. He’s not used to seeing you so put out, you hazard, unable to even produce coherent speech.

“I love you so much,” you gasp.

“...is that what this is about? Or is there more?”

Dan Heng strokes your hair through your tearful explanation. You know you don’t make a lot of sense right now, but it’s all you can manage. He still listens with scholarly attention to detail, not doting or prying. He’s here. He’s here for you, just like you are for him.

The dam has burst. “Have I ever told you about my family?”

“No,” he admits. “Do you want to?”

So you tell him enough. You only paint a vague picture; recounting endless disagreements and fighting, being kicked to the curb and ostracized, scrambling to pick up the pieces of your barely adult life before being thrusted into college all alone with no one to watch out for you. You’ve only dropped hints beforehand - after all, who wants to reopen old wounds?

Silence can be just as powerful of a response as spoken words. Dan Heng understands, you know that already, but the way he holds you is compelling evidence alone.

Dan Heng’s family is wonderful; being part of it makes you feel a little sick inside, somehow made worse by his ministrations. “It may be unfair of me to say, but… I think I know how you feel. My life before I came to live and travel with everyone was lonely. Lonely and painful, and you don’t deserve to feel that way. Ever.”

When you don’t respond, he continues.

“But I’m now content to call them my cherished companions. And you,” Dan Heng emphasizes, syllables unsure despite his best efforts, “are one of them as well. We haven’t pried too much into what is painful, but I’ve always felt like we’ve never needed to. That was my mistake.”

He makes a point of thumbing the residue of your episode away, an apology in and of itself. Of course he blames solely himself, you muse, biting back a playful reprimand that wouldn’t land well right now. Your breathing regains a semblance of normalcy as you muster up enough gusto to respond.

“No, don’t be silly. I want to talk to you more about our lives before each other, I think. Together, y’know? I-Isn’t that just so romantic? Being emotionally constipated doesn’t do either of us any favors.”

Your tone has lightened, enough for him to notice and furrow his brows in concern. Given, you rebound at the speed of light, never wishing to linger on the bad - partially because sadness is unpleasant and uncommon, but mostly because you feel like you’re unable to. That’s just how you are. However, the way he looks at you is encouragement enough to move forward.

You feel better, you do, but your eyes are still red and puffy. The night outside is still cold and unpredictable.

“Whatever you need,” Dan Heng nods. He can only be so sworn in his promises - so determined - before you crack a smile.

“Alright, easy on the white knight talk,” you chuckle. Realizing how close you actually are, there’s a pause. You can smell the mint of his shampoo, and your arms are tangled with his in some kind of human knot that’d have Houdini sweating. “It’s weird…”

He stares at you, unimpressed. “I thought you wanted me to talk to you in a ‘Romeo’ way.”

You only huff, unable to come up with a retort for once, which is fine. You wipe your face again and drag him down with you back onto the bed, which he allows, because Dan Heng is too good for you and also happens to be a complete pushover. At least you can use your frazzled, unstable emotional state to get what you want.

Case in point: you spoon him. The covers assume their original position after you wrangle them to behave, holding him close from behind. A little part of you does this so he can’t see if you start up the waterworks again, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“It’ll be alright,” Dan Heng reminds, surrendering to your whims as always.

The dust settles and you’re inclined to believe him. There is still much time left, with Christmas day being the focal point of your visit, and you’re starting to get sleepy again. That’s always a good sign; sleepy, relaxed, and with a head drained of pressing worries - at least for the present moment.

Your eyes close, bereft of tears as you murmur your agreement.

To your surprise and horror, this house didn’t have a Christmas tree. It’s not like it mattered that much, but it was still shocking nonetheless. With a building exploding with life, there wasn't an evergreen decked out in ornaments or a pine covered in lights to tie the room together.

Honestly, where were they going to put their presents?

However, you forgave this transgression a day or two later under the condition that you would be allowed to pick one out. Everyone seemed to be fine with it, with you offering to cover the cost this close to the 25th - and your determined expression that would’ve been pointless to argue with. Santa Claus works hard but you work harder.

Caelus and March jumped to go with you, much to the others’ relief, and that was more than enough hands on deck for you to hop in Caelus’s car and drive to the nearest tree farm in the dead of winter, borrowing some mittens and a cute knitted hat from March so you wouldn’t become a human popsicle before your 30s.

Uh, you did get a bit lost. You had to interrogate the shit out of the GPS and one poor local to get there; the latter was not your fault by the way! Caelus just so happened to be carrying a bat and had a concerning look in his eye. That put you in good enough standing to make it there, even if the selection of trees were picked over, leaving only the runts on sale.

All three of you turned away with your hands empty, opting to make a last minute shopping trip to the mall to buy a fake one. You were against it, but your suggestion to buy three small trees and place them really close together was vetoed. “Majority rules” is totes unfair…

But the mall trip turned into a lot more when you actually got there. Both of them ganged up on you with a reminder that you haven’t gotten Dan Heng a gift yet! Honestly, you could say you regret confessing that to them earlier, but you totally needed to hear it.

Imagine you, waking up on Christmas morning with nothing to give the love of your life! Deplorable, unforgivable, and tragically heartbreaking.

And you had a council there to help you; people that know Dan Heng just as well as you do.

“He’s so hard to shop for,” March had groaned, flicking through racks of clothes with a dark aura surrounding her. “Trust me, I’ve tried in the past. He always says he’s fine with anything, giving me zero hints…”

“Maybe get him nothing,” Caelus suggested after, more occupied with trying to steal coins from the nearby wishing fountain. Like one does. “You could run him over and he’d thank you politely.”

Similar experiences there. He’s always been more attuned to your wants than his own, which you’ve been trying to get him to work on at his own pace. Unfortunately, the place was about to close for the night since you already spent the day gallivanting around.

The burly mall security guard looked dangerously close to kicking your trio out, with at least one of you kicking and screaming, so you had to leave empty handed again.

The others assured you that you’d find a present in time. You decided to go with the flow and hope that the heavens above would drop one into your lap by the day of.

Spoiler alert: they didn’t! Because Christmas day is now here, and it all seems hopeless. Well, aside from the fact that you’re all settled around the coffee table and a big, burning fire is roaring in the fireplace.

There’s still a smile on your face as Welt and Himeko tear open their presents with wise, softened gazes. You can’t let your own mistakes ruin the moment, after all.

“Truly, thank you both,” Himeko croons, looking over her respective mug and brooch with awe. “I was prepared to perhaps play up the excitement a bit, but… I’m very impressed. Dan Heng, you’ve picked well.”

He flushes. “They helped me,” he nods to you.

“No,” she laughs, “I meant you picked a good partner.”

Before you can stammer out a reply, Welt chimes in. He’s inspecting the quality of his tie with muted gratitude - his new mug seems to only serve as a reminder that he has to drink Himeko’s coffee out of it. Hey, at least your heart was in the right place!

“I have to agree. Both of you must have collaborated seamlessly to shop for our preferences.”

Caelus, wearing his big ass jacket that you and Dan Heng bought him, sprawls out across one of the couches like a housecat. “This is a lot better than what you got me last year, Cold Dragon Young.”

Dan Heng bristles and you burst out laughing at the expression he’s making. “Cold Dragon what?”

“Ignore them,” he pleads, lips twitching upward just a smidge; a ghost of a smile. Dan Heng really does like the teasing more than he lets on.

March was almost reduced to tears by the jewelry dish you painted for her - which is more of a jewelry box at this point - but she recovers from her reverie and endless thank yous to giggle at your partner’s expense, something that’s swiftly turning into a group effort. “One time, we all got roped into fistfighting these bad guys in a club, and after Dan Heng took care of them--”

“I was left with no other choice--”

“--then that became his ring name. Cold Dragon Young!” she finishes.

Himeko and Welt exchange an exhausted look. You immediately decide that the moniker is going to become his contact name in your phone until the end of time. You also start wheezing (and also kind of blushing) at the idea of Dan Heng, the near-pacifist, duking it out with someone. “S-Sounds like you guys have been everywhere…”

“...we have,” your boyfriend clears his throat. You sense a topic change, or even a segue, drawing your attention. You sit up a little straighter and wipe the comically-induced hysteria from your eyes.

He’s looking at you expectantly with some of the earlier heat coloring the tips of his ears. The room lulls into silence as he makes his way over to the tree to retrieve a box from underneath the branches, wrapped in pastel yellow with no bow.

Dan Heng hands it over, and when your skin brushes against his for a fleeting second, you feel the clamminess of his palms.

“Oh, me next?” you blink. Shaking the thing a bit too aggressively, listening for any indication of a bomb (just in case), you get a good feel of its weight. Light and mysterious. You’re too busy making mental guesses that you don’t notice Welt shepherding the others out of the room.

“Yes. I hope you like it,” he watches as you tear open the wrapping paper and the box itself. Dan Heng is so beautiful it’s almost criminal, unintentionally batting his lashes in a way that has you swallowing drool.

You scoff. “Of course I will!”

Inside the box rests… two tickets? Your mind jumps to movie tickets first and foremost, but that’s obviously not the case; the ones here are golden with faded ridges and accented with red, sparkling as you fawn over them. Then you read the printed text lining the bottom of the thin cardstock.

The Astral Express. They’re two boarding passes.

“No way,” It’s the name of the restored steam locomotive in the picture, the very same one that Himeko told you about working on during the height of her career. “Does this mean…?”

Dan Heng drinks in the surprised part of your lips, scratching at his neck. “You mentioned that you wanted to travel. I, and the rest of us, thought you’d like to accompany us on a trip. If you don’t want to, that’s perfectly fine,” he promises. “I can get refunded, and we’ll all stay. But it’s scheduled to start the day after tomorrow and last until the new year.”

You don’t want to cry again, even if they’re happy tears, so you launch yourself into his arms as a welcome distraction. You may be imagining it, but you think you feel him slump in relief. Again. How long will it take to get it through his thick skull that he could never disappoint you?

“Duh, of course I want to! Darling, what kind of jerk would I be if I said no and made everyone cancel their plans? Oh my god, oh my god--”

“You m-may want to breathe.”

His concern is so genuine - that’s not even meant to be teasing. You scream into his shoulder, already thinking of nights spent in velvet cabins and days spent watching the cross-country scenery go by on the silver rail. With good food. Lots of it.

“I’m breathing,” you huff, in fact, short of breath. “Thank you, Dan Heng. I love it so much.”

You pull back, box and tickets still safe in your grasp despite your earlier flailing. The magical moment fizzles, your joy stunted as guilt emerges. “But I… I didn’t get you anything. I’m so sorry, we shopped all over, and everything’s been so hectic…”

He closes his eyes and shakes his head. “I meant what I said.”

“Huh?”

“When we were shopping all that time ago,” he clarifies. “I don’t need anything but you. And with the others coming along,” Dan Heng gestures to the tickets, everyone else’s likely stowed away somewhere safe, “It’s the best gift I could ask for, more than I could ever want.”

You don’t rebut him this time.

The guilt has all but vanished, and you pull Dan Heng into a tender kiss. This has, no joke, probably been the best break of your life so far. Not to mention you have a whole new trip to look forward to, with a whole new family at your side.

Just as you think this perfect moment is unshakable, hoots and jeers break out from behind you. You whip around, dazed, and Caelus is cheering both of you on like his life depends on it.

“Wooooo! I told you they’d like it, dude! May your love burn bright for years to co--”

…then March clamps a hand over his mouth and hauls him away.

Dan Heng is so embarrassed that he chokes on a laugh. You make sure to join him in kind, the present moment also holding the infinite possibilities of the future.

thank you for reading! it means the world to me 🎅🎁 on ao3

#hvntersecretsanta #my writing #dan heng x reader #hsr x reader #hsr dan heng x reader #hsr dan heng #honkai star rail x reader #dan heng x you #hsr x you #dan heng hsr x reader #hsr fluff #dan heng x gn!reader

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pucksandpower · 1 year ago

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F1 Secret Santa 2023 Summary

Lance to Fernando: a captain hat for his new yacht and a bottle of wine

Yuki to Lance: a beanie (or toque in Canadian)

Zhou to Yuki: a Chinese cookbook and an apron

Charles to Zhou: a (second) Bottass calendar that he tried to return to Charles only for Charles to give it back to him again

Fernando to Charles: a padel racket

Nico to Pierre: a tripod 😉

Esteban to Nico: a 🥱 mug

George to Esteban: a Spider-Man travel mug, carrying case, and neck pillow

Kevin to George: a Santa Hoptimist (Danish figurine)

Logan to Kevin: a “shhh … I’m watching racing with daddy” onesie and a book about the best road trips in the USA

Lando to Logan: a Miami Heat mini hoop and basketball

Pierre to Lando: the actual gift (a headcover with Lando’s face on it) didn’t arrive in time so an “OnlyPutts” golf marker as a placeholder

Oscar to Alex: customized golf balls

Daniel to Oscar: a koala t-shirt and Christmas candies (is it still Secret Santa if your Secret Santa is impatient and spoils that he is your Secret Santa before you can even open your gift?)

Checo to Daniel: limited edition tequila

Alex to Checo: a Williams teddy bear and kids clothing plus Alex Albon Athletics sneakers

Max to Valterri: “A Simply Lovely Look at the Butt in Art” (a book of those photos of Valterri overlaid on existing pieces of art)

Carlos to Max: a vintage arcade mini

Valterri to Carlos: chilli pepper swim briefs and chilli hot sauce

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grandpeachpersona · 28 days ago

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can u do a fic where joe has surgery and starts saying crazy stuff after anesthesia to the reader

Ask and you shall receive!

Joe Burrow x Black!oc Sierra Riley

Warnings: Fluff and Joe's medicate language.

Have you ever had that feeling when you wake up with a gut instinct that something bad is going to happen?

Well, it didn’t happen to me; it happened to Joe.

I was watching the Bengals vs. Ravens game from home when I saw Joe walk to the sideline with an unhappy expression on his face.

Then the cameras caught him attempting some practice throws when suddenly, his wrist gave out, and he squatted down in pain.

As an athlete myself, I recognize that reaction all too well: it’s an injury. Not the kind you can shake off to get back into the game, but one that requires surgery.

Now, here I am in the hospital waiting room while Joe is in surgery for his wrist.

“Family for Burrow,” one of the nurses called as she entered the waiting room.

I immediately stood up and approached her. “How did it go?” I asked as she led me down the hall.

She nodded with a smile. “It was successful—no problems at all.”

“Great,” I said, letting out a sigh of relief. “Can I see him?”

She stopped in front of a door, which I assumed was Joe's. “Sure. Just know he might still be sleeping because of the anesthesia, but feel free to go in anytime,” the older nurse said.

I nodded my head. “Thank you so much.”

“No problem. I hope he has a speedy recovery,” she replied as she walked away.

Me too... Me too.

I opened the door and stepped into the room, the door clicking shut behind me. I was greeted by the sight of a sleeping Joe. His hair was slightly messy, most likely from the hairnet.

I quietly pulled the chair closer to the bed, trying not to wake him. But despite my efforts, I heard a slight rustle of the sheets followed by a muffled groan

“Hey,” I said softly as I settled into the chair beside him, wincing slightly at the sterile smell of the recovery room.

Joe turned his head towards me, his expression sluggish, his eyelids drooping as if they carried the weight of the world. “Hi, I guess,” he mumbled, the words slurring together.

Suppressing a chuckle, I could already see where this conversation was headed, and I was determined to tease him mercilessly.

“You guess? Are you not happy to see me?” I asked, giving him a playful pout, my heart swelling at the thought of his reaction.

His brows scrunched together in confusion, but then his face lit up like a Christmas tree, the excitement radiating from him like the warmth of morning sunlight. “Oh, hi, baby!” Joe exclaimed, trying to lift his injured arm in a jubilant gesture, only to freeze as he remembered the constraints of his bandage.

I placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, my fingers trembling slightly, partly from his excitement and partly from concern. “Be careful, you're not even an hour out of surgery.”

“SURGERY,” he echoed, eyes growing wide like a child learning a new word for the first time.

Quickly, I raised my finger to my lips in a shushing motion. “Shhh,” I whispered, trying to keep the ambiance calm.

“Sorry,” he murmured back, his voice barely above a whisper. “Surgery,” he repeated, still in disbelief. I nodded my head reassuringly. “Yep.”

His gaze shifted down to the bulky cast encasing his arm, and a hint of worry flickered across his features. “I’ll be okay, right?” he asked, his lips forming a cute pout that tugged at my heartstrings.

With a small, warm smile, I replied, “You'll be one hundred percent before you know it.”

Silence settled between us for a few moments before Joe's attention was drawn to the TV mounted on the wall. The image on the screen captivated him: the Braves game was currently airing, their vibrant jerseys and energetic atmosphere almost tangible.

Suddenly, Joe grasped my hand with his good arm, his excitement palpable. “That’s you!”

Following his gaze to the TV and back to him, I nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, that’s me.”

“How are you there and here at the same time?” he asked, his eyes wide with amazement, as if he were trying to grasp a magical phenomenon.

I shook my head with a smile, my laughter bubbling just underneath the surface. “It’s an old game, baby.”

Joe smacked his lips in a playful manner. “Sure it is,” he drawled, his playful skepticism underlined with a grin. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”

Furrowing my brows in mock confusion, I asked, “What secret?”

He beckoned me to lean closer, and I did, intrigued. He lowered his head and whispered conspiratorially into my ear, “That you can teleport.”

Deciding to play along with his fanciful notion, I grinned and asked, “You won’t tell anyone?”

He nodded seriously, letting go of my hand to place it over his heart, his expression earnest. “Scout's honor.”

“Good, now I’m holding you to it,” I pointed, my finger playfully accusing.

His gaze dropped again to his cast before returning to me, eyes filled with childlike sincerity. “How am I going to hold it?”

“In your heart,” I replied, laughter bubbling up again.

“How am I going to hold my heart?” he questioned, his tone imbued with genuine curiosity.

I shrugged, laughing a little. “I don’t know, with your hand, I guess.”

“But I can’t,” he whined, a pout forming on his lips once more. I fought to keep a straight face, biting my lip to stifle my laughter.

“Yes, you can. You have a whole other arm!” I replied, pointing out the obvious.

He glanced down at his left arm, the reality of his situation settling in. “I don’t like this one; I like this one,” he said, gesturing towards his uninjured arm, a touch of longing in his voice. “Will you hold my heart for me since I can’t?”

Hearing his sweet request made my heart flutter. I knew he was still under the influences of medication, but the sincerity in his eyes was unmistakable.

“Yes, baby, I will,” I promised softly, my voice barely above a whisper, knowing in that moment that I would always be there to hold his heart, no matter the circumstance.

#joe burrow #cincinnati bengals #nfl #joe burrow x reader #black oc #black!reader #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow x black reader

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hard-core-super-star · 1 month ago

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i'll be home for christmas [K.Bishop]

pairing: top!kate bishop x bottom!reader

summary: even though you wake up alone on christmas day, kate finds a way to make it up to you the only way she knows how.

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT -> kate is technically the top but also very needy; very brief daddy kink; vibrator use; some grinding; fingering {R receiving}; lots of praise; went crazy with the dirty talk, my bad; slight overstimulation; AFTERCARE; NOT proofread 😅

wordcount: 2.4k

a/n: would it really be a rubix fic if it wasn’t posted far later than originally planned? the answer is, sadly, no. christmas time always reminds me of kate so of course, i had to write a little something before the year ended. this fic does technically take place on christmas but shhh, i’m only…five days late 😭 anyway, I already have my first fic of the new year planned out and i can’t wait to share it with you all. i don’t want to get too sappy here but, from the bottom of my heart, thank you so much for all the support this year. you have no idea how much it means to me. anyway, hope you enjoy <3

* * * * * * *

As much as you loved Kate's unrelenting devotion to her job, you absolutely hated how consistently she had to leave you. Especially during the holidays.

Sure, it wasn't the end of the world, you could survive a few weeks without the archer, but it didn't mean it wasn't difficult. Although maybe that was your fault for watching so many silly romcoms. In your defense, Yelena had never seen most of them, and you couldn't pass up the opportunity to watch her completely berate the stupid men in said movies.

Spending time with the Russian was entertaining, especially when she took you to the Rockefeller Center just to tell you how dumb your girlfriend was when they fought there, but it wasn't what you were craving. The freezing days and loud streets only served to make you miss Kate more than you thought possible. It wasn't even about the holiday, not really, it was simply about how much you hated being without her.

You understood why she preferred being away for most of December, though. Christmas and the weeks leading up to it hasn't been the same since her mom went to jail. What happened wasn't her fault, but that didn't stop her from feeling guilty. As difficult as it was, all you could do was let her work through things on her own. It wasn't your place to tell her how to feel about the situation.

That being said, it still sucked to wake up alone on Christmas morning. Kate was supposed to fly in before the 25th, but the mission got complicated, and she had to stay a few extra days. She'd gone silent after letting you know she'd have to stay a few extra days so you had no way of knowing when she'd be back.

So, even though it felt incredibly depressing, you made your peace with spending the day by yourself, lounging around in your girlfriend's clothes, eating junk food and watching silly movies.

It wasn't until the sun had started to set on what had been a pretty lonely day that you heard the sound of the front door opening.

In an instant, you jumped up quicker than Lucky, barely concealing your excitement as you rushed to the front door.

Standing there, looking exhausted yet handsome as ever, was your favorite archer.

"Kate!" You run right into her, causing her to drop her bags in order to wrap her arms around you. "You're back!"

The sound of her warm chuckle fills your ears as she picks you up. "I couldn't leave my favorite girl without her present."

You wrap your legs around her waist, even though she's more than capable of using her strength to carry you. "I thought it was the other way around."

"Oh, I'm not your present, baby," she says. "I got you something."

Her words shouldn't be surprising, considering how much she loves spoiling you and yet you find yourself gasping. "When did you even have time for that?"

Your reaction is exactly what she's looking for and you feel her smile against your skin as she presses a string of kisses to your temple. "A lady never tells."

"You're such a dork," you mutter, leaning forward to bury your face in her neck. It's mainly to hide your embarrassment, even after all this time you haven't gotten used to receiving so many gifts from her. It's also an excuse to be close to her. There's no denying how needy you are for her affection.

"I'm your dork, though."

Despite her words, nothing about her attitude screams dork right now. Sure, she's always a little dorky, but there's a particular fire in her gaze that you instantly recognize. One that makes your stomach fill with butterflies.

Without a word, Kate carries you to your shared bedroom, her hands roaming up and down your back and sending sparks of excitement wherever she touches. Her intentions are more than clear, but you pretend not to notice, instead indulging in the warmth of her embrace.

"I'm surprised you haven't asked what your present is, princess," she teases before sinking down onto the bed with you in her lap. "Do you not want to know?"

"I'm kind of busy," you reply with a teasing tone of your own.

The archer huffs, but before she can complain too much, you're attaching yourself to her skin. Her huff turns into a groan as you attack her neck with kisses and soft bites.

One of her hands drifts up to tangle in your hair, holding you against her while you continue your ministrations. "Someone's a little eager for some time with me, huh?"

You know she's simply being a tease because she can, but she's just as desperate to be with you. Maybe even more, considering the way her hips can't seem to stay still. You can't lie, though, you love watching her slip into a more dominant personal, even if you both know she's way needier than you most days.

You're fine with pretending for the night. It'll be your Christmas gift for her.

"You've been gone for weeks, can you blame me?" You ask, a pout pulling at your lips.

The second she feels you pout against her neck, she tightens her grip on your hair and pulls your head back. You barely manage to suppress a whimper at the feeling. "No, I can't. I've left my good girl needy for far too long, haven't I?"

Even though you secretly crave her dominance, you can't stop yourself from pushing her buttons a little bit. It's far too fun.

"Are you gonna make it up to me..." You trail off with a rapidly growing smirk. "Daddy?"

"Fuck," she groans, her grip tightening on you for a few seconds. "You're the worst, y'know that?"

You shrug. "I thought I was your good girl."

"Good girls are patient, baby," she reminds you as her hands make their way to your waist once more. She gives you a teasing squeeze, her hips subtly grinding up against you. "And that's not you, is it?"

"You're one to talk," you reply with a scoff. "I can feel you trying to hump me."

The noise she makes this time is closer to a whine than anything else. There's something about the push and pull you have going on that drives you absolutely wild. As much as you want her to simply drop you onto the mattress and rail you until you're sobbing, you love this side of her. The one that so desperately wants to please you in any way you want.

"Oh, shut up. Just let me be in control...pretty please?"

Teasing her is tempting, but you're far too needy by now to keep the nonchalant act up.

"You're always in control..." You trail off, going right back to peppering kisses across her jaw. "...Daddy."

"That's what I like to hear, princess...do you want your present now?"

All you do is nod and before you know it, you're wrapped up in one of Kate's "brilliant" ideas. And wrapped up is a very literal way to put it.

The real present, you quickly find out, is the set of purple lingerie now hugging your body. Her present, though, is tying you up with matching rope, pretending like the knots she makes are cute little ribbons. To top everything off, she pulls out your favorite vibrator, wordlessly turning it on and slipping it under the waistband of your new, lacy panties.

"You look so pretty like this, angel," Kate says, her eyes practically shining with glee as she watches you squirm for her. "My pretty little princess all tied up and perfect for me."

"Kate," you moan, your back arching almost subconsciously.

If she notices your slip, she doesn't comment on it. Instead, she reaches a hand out to soothe your squirming thighs. "Shhh, let me enjoy the view, baby. Just stay right there for me."

You watch with wide eyes as she takes her phone out, a breathtaking smirk on her face while she circles the bed, taking picture after picture of your vulnerable form. Knowing her phone is incredibly secure and fortified does little to quell the warmth that spreads along your face.

You know that's exactly why she does it. Because even though you'd never admit it, you love being on display for her. Showing her just how good you can be for her.

She takes her time, though. Watching as your hips buck more and more, as your legs shake with the effort of keeping yourself in place so the vibrator doesn't move away from your clit. As sweet as she is, she loves getting you like this.

"Katie, please," you whine once you can't take it anymore. As good as the vibrator feels, you need her. Need to feel her skin against yours and hear her voice in your ear as she makes you fall apart for her.

"I know, baby, it just feels so good, doesn't it?" Her words are soft but no less teasing. "You don't have to hold back, let me make you feel good."

She drops her phone before climbing onto the bed and crawling her way up to you. Her fingers trace a teasing path up your thighs before landing on the wet crotch of your panties.

"Such a messy girl," she mutters, more to herself than anything. "So wet for me."

You nod mindlessly, shifting your hips toward her. She takes the hint and presses her palm against the vibrator, making sure it's pressed right against your clit.

The sudden pressure makes you gasp and there's no way to stop your orgasm from crashing into you. If you had any thoughts left, you would feel embarrassed. Unfortunately, there's nothing but pleasure in both your body and mind, even as you cum far too quickly for your liking.

Kate doesn't seem to mind, though, considering the way her eyes eagerly drink up the sight of you. "Fuck, look at you, such a good girl for Daddy."

Her casual use of the title makes you gasp. Your walls clench desperately around pure air as she draws out more pleasure from you.

Even though a part of you wants to ask for a break, your body has other ideas. It's like you have no control over yourself or the way you keep bucking up into Kate's hand.

"Dirty girl." The archer chuckles as she leans down to press kisses to your neck. "I guess you're needier than I thought."

"Shut up-" You gasp, squirming underneath her in a shitty attempt to get closer to her.

Her hand sneaks inside your underwear just to turn the vibrator off and leave you shaking. "What was that? Is someone being a bit of a brat?"

The only response you can form is a whine. "Kate."

"Try again," she murmurs against your skin, her soft kisses turning into sharp nips.

Your squirming does little to quell the desperate flames your girlfriend has ignitied inside you. "Please, Daddy. I need more."

"Mmm, good girl. You sound so pretty when you beg for me."

She's technically going easy on you, but you can't tell if it's because you're needy or because she's needy. Either way, it doesn't seem to matter and, thankfully, the result is the same.

The result being her hand removing the vibrator and replacing it with her fingers.

Her touch is so soft it borders on teasing as she rubs slow circles on your swollen clit. You don't need much of a buildup after the strength of your last orgasm, but that doesn't seem to matter to her.

"You have no idea how much I missed you," she says, seemingly unaware of her torture. "How much I thought about you like this. Underneath me, making the prettiest noises for me."

"Don't tease."

Your slightly bratty tone seems to fly over her head. Or maybe she's just too excited to get her hands on you to really pay attention to your distate for her antics.

"I'm not," she replies. "I'm just taking my time."

You open your mouth to argue with her but she beats you to the punch by plunging two fingers into your tight heat. Your gasp gets buried by her loud groan and the sound has you clenching far too hard on her digits.

She feels it too because she drops the slightly infuriating, albeit extremely attractive, act and focuses her efforts on the thrust of her fingers. Her movements speed up, but she makes sure to stay close to you, peppering kisses on whatever part of your face she can reach.

The duality in her movements, the push and pull between her sweet side and her dominant side, has you plummeting toward the edge faster than you can even process.

Kate knows, she always seems to know, and she works you through the overwhelming sensations. Her pace doesn't let up, though, pushing you closer and closer to your release in the way only she can.

"Come on, baby, I can feel you clenching around me. Don't hold back, princess, cum for me."

Her words seem to be exactly the shove you need and before you know it, you're knee-deep in your second orgasm of the night. The pleasure quickly becomes overwhelming, though, and you trash around slightly, wanting to soak in the aftermath wiithout any extra stimulation.

For all her teasing and impatience, the archer is right there when she notices how sensitive you become.

"Shhh, hey, breathe for me, you're okay, princess. Everything's okay."

Her fingers make quick work of the rope tying you down and before you know it, your positions are flipped. She lifts you into her arms, carefully placing you on top of her and allowing you time to ground yourself, even as you still tremble with the aftershocks of so much pleasure.

It takes a little while for the ringing in your ears to fade, and even longer for your limbs to stop feeling like jelly, but Kate doesn't seem to mind. She simply holds you close, her arms wrapped snuggly around your waist.

"Kate," you mumble as you shift until your head is comfortably resting on her shoulder.

"Hey you, welcome back," she says, her voice like a warm caress. "How're you feeling?"

"Mmmm, sleepy."

"Yeah, I can tell." She chuckles. "Does this mean you liked your gift?"

"I loved it," you correct her. "And I love you."

"I love you more, y/n."

This time, you don't have the strength to correct her. Instead, you simply soak up the feeling of being in her arms again.

#kate bishop x reader #kate bishop x female reader #kate bishop x y/n #kate bishop x you #kate bishop smut #kate bishop #hawkeye #hailee steinfed #marvel fanfiction #mcu imagine #wlw #wlw fic #writing

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littlemelanintales · 10 months ago

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Just One More

WARNING: Overstimulation, crying reader, language, fingering

“No, no, no, no!”

There you are, 4 orgasms in and writhing wildly in Bucky’s arms as he continues to rub circles around your clit. You’re trembling with tears streaming down your face while you desperately try to get away from the torturous manipulation of his hands. All he could do was smile as he keeps the cold, heavy metal of his left arm tight around you middle.

He kept pulling you back into his chest when you couldn’t help but buck your hips and gasps for breath, “Bucky… please… no more, I can’t-”. He puts two fingers in your abused opening,

“Yes, you can,” he says sternly, mouth pressed to your ear. The bass in his voice vibrates the wires in your brain. He’s all you crave.

He lets out a deep breath when he slides a third finger into your hole. You were helpless and at his mercy. Your hands are trapped behind your back, between your torsos with a red Christmas ribbon he found. Your legs were trapped between his so when you tried to close them, he just had to spread his wider. There was absolutely nothing you could do to stop him from playing with your sensitive pussy.

“Ohhh, I’m not done yet, Baby. Not yet.” He pulled his fingers out and went back to the same speed on your clit.

“Oh my god, Sir… fuck, please, don’t stop,” you moan loudly, trashing in his grip when the tight coil in your abdomen comes undone. Wave after wave of pleasure crashing through you. You’re full on sobbing in blissful agony before going tractable in his arms. All your body could do was tremble from head to toe when he pressed his nose into your slick neck and finally slips his fingers out of you. He loosens his hold on your torso, allowing your legs to close a bit to give you a well deserved moment. You go to close them more when he cups his hand possessively around your pussy. He’s still not done.

You start to cry again; the combination of the tears and your whining making you sound so pathetic and helpless. He just eats it up.

“Noooo… Bucky, please, no more… stop, I- I can’t… please, no…”

“Shhh. You’re doing so well for me,” he says, pressing his lips against your temple. “What do you say to get me to stop?”

He laid a light tap to your swollen petals, “tell, y/n. Stay with me.”

“Brooklyn,” you said in the faintest whisper.

“Why?”

“It’s where we met…FUCK!”

He doesn’t wait another moment before slipping two fingers back inside your sopping pussy, making you cry out when they graze your ultra sensitive walls.

“James-FUCKKK!,” You drag out as you sit your head up to watch his attack on you,

“You want me to stop? Say it and I’ll stop.” He knew you wouldn’t and he reveled at the fact that he had complete control over you. The fact that he didn’t reprimand you for using his legal name meant that he was having way too much fun in this torture session to even care.

“No! Please don’t stop…” His fingers reached the spot that undoes it all and your eyes roll back as you place your head back on him, completely quiet.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Bucky watches, mesmerized that it’s him who’s making you cum like this.

You whimper in his arms, gulping in large breaths that pass right by his ear from where my head is resting on his shoulder. Your entire body is trembling. Your sweaty skin sliding along his own when you try to wiggle away from his touch.

You stay like that for a moment before he presses another kiss to your temple. By this time, your eyes are closed and you’re starting to come down. Your breathing stables until you feel a heavy, icy sensation start to travel back to your overused cunt.

“You’ve been such a good girl for me. I know you can give me another, Baby.”

seen this before? tumblr deleted my other account so i have to rebuild :/

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x black!reader #winter soldier #captain america #steve rogers #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader

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greenwitchfromthewoods · 7 months ago

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the flower guy. l Joel Miller

Summary: someone leaves flowers at your door

Warnings: some bad words (fuck), but other than that just fluff and stupid sweet talking

A/N: I think Joel deserves everything sweet and nice, I would like to give him this scribble. (and I wanted to thank you for every heart, reblog and observation. it means a lot)

It happened again.

Curiosity led you towards the porch where for a long time, every morning, you found a flower lying there. Sometimes it was an ordinary wild flower like a poppy or cornflower, and sometimes a few daisies. And even though your mind told you that it couldn't entirely be safe, your heart melted every time you opened the door.

This time you found a lilac flower on the doormat and without thinking, you inhaled its intense scent.

Was it stupid? Unwise?

You didn't know who left you such surprises, but he definitely made your day. You went to sleep wondering if something new would appear on the wiper, and then you woke up excited like a child on Christmas Day.

"A penny for your thoughts?"

Ellie's voice broke you out of your thoughts. You were walking through a meadow near Jackson, partly to look around and partly to kill time. The warm sun warmed your backs as you lazily walked through the tall grass.

"Did he show up again?" the girl lowered her voice, but couldn't hide her excitement. "Did he leave anything?"

You looked at Ellie's bright face, then quickly glanced over your shoulder. The girl's gaze followed yours.

Joel followed you a dozen or so steps and didn't seem to care about you at all.

"Shhh!" you hissed, but you couldn't hide your smile.

"He doesn't even listen to us." Ellie shrugged. "We could be talking about all your ex-boyfriends and intimate relationship details and Joel would still just find dangers around us. He doesn't care."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. He's wandering around looking for something to do. Jackson seems to be boring him. Anyway," she grabbed your arm lightly, "Did he show up again?"

"Yes." you replied quietly, "He left me a lilac flower."

"Damn! I thought he would finally invite you somewhere! Idiot..."

"Why do you say that?" you were outraged, although you didn't feel angry at the girl at all. "I think it's sweet and romantic. Besides, blind dates, in this day and age, are probably not a good idea."

"Maybe you're right, but that doesn't change the fact that he's an idiot. He could just talk to you. Say something like, 'Hey, girl. You look stunning. Do you want to go out together?' "

You burst out laughing and quickly glanced over your shoulder again. Joel still didn't seem to be paying much attention to you.

"You should stop reading those teen magazines. They're just bullshit!"

"Are you kidding me?! They're fantastic. Can you tell me about your first time?"

"About what?!"

"About your sexual experience." Ellie sighed as if explaining such simple things to you was boring for her. "I asked Joel, but he told me to shut up and he went somewhere again."

"And he was right. You're too young for this."

"And you're too old to play ‘throwing flowers on the doormat’."

You already regretted that you had even told Ellie about what you found in front of your door in the morning. However, you had no choice, one morning she caught you picking up flowers and wouldn't leave you alone until you told her everything.

You weren't even going to tell Joel about it. He would definitely tell you right away that all this was suspicious, and then he would lie in wait outside your house with a shotgun to catch whoever was visiting you. This was definitely not a good idea.

"Hey!"

You both turned towards the voice calling to you. Joel stopped and stared intently at the nearby forest.

"I think I saw a deer there. Maybe we should go that way?" he pointed to an unspecified place.

"Are you sure?" you asked as you and Ellie approached him. "Maybe he escaped?"

"Maybe, but it's always worth checking."

"Sure. There's nothing we can do anyway. At least Ellie will be quiet."

Joel smiled slightly. You liked this view. Those little sweet lines around his eyes and some warmth radiating from him at that moment.

You were already used to Joel and Ellie's presence in Jackson, and you were also glad that they found each other in this place. You quickly found a common language and after some time Ellie became a frequent guest in your home. Thus, Joel Miller also became your close friend.

You liked his presence. And although sometimes his response was a grunt, or he looked at you in a strange way that made you wonder if you had done something stupid. You recognized his silhouette from a distance. Tall, broad shoulders, warm brown eyes, hair streaked with gray and that smile hidden in a soft beard.

Yeah, you could keep your eyes on him longer.

You quietly closed the door and ran down the few steps onto an empty road bathed in the first rays of sunlight. The pleasant coolness that surrounded you immediately woke you up. Despite everything, all you wanted to do was lie in your bed and try to get some sleep. Molly's twins cried all night because their teeth were coming in, and you promised to help her so she could nap for a while. So that night was hard.

You were already close to your house when you suddenly saw it. There was a person standing on your porch.

Your heart almost jumped out of your chest, but you reacted quickly, hiding behind some boxes standing next to the nearest building.

Maybe it was stupid and you could have acted like a responsible adult, but still... Fuck! You didn't expect to catch him in a situation like this. Especially since you were so curious and...

The man withdrew and went down the stairs, the sun shining on his face.

You'd recognize this man anywhere.

You knew you wouldn't fall asleep again. Even though you were lying in bed and the window curtains were drawn tightly, you were staring at the ceiling with wide eyes. It was insane.

You would never in your life suspect that the person who left you flowers for so long was Joel Miller. Because how come? Joel?

You were friends, you spent a lot of time together, and Ellie treated your house almost like it was her own. But it seemed to you that he never took you seriously. To him, you were just like any other resident of Jackson, and you even had the impression that he became more gruff around you.

“Fuuuck…” you moaned, rubbing your face with your hands.

Your brain no longer functioned normally and only gave you a headache. You needed at least a few hours of sleep, but that probably wasn't going to happen.

After some more fidgeting in bed, you got up, intending to take a shower and eat something.

Joel. Why did it have to be Joel? After all, it changes everything. How were you supposed to look him in the face now? Would you act like nothing happened? And why was he doing it?

You didn't even feel like going to the bar today. You were sure you would find Joel and Tommy there, and that was probably the last thing you wanted.

A loud knock on the door echoed through the house.

"Y/N? Are you there?" Ellie banged on the door again, “Y/N?”

Did you just hide behind the kitchen cabinet? God! What the hell was that supposed to be?

Ellie's footsteps faded away and you finished your coffee sitting on the kitchen floor. You had only one way out of this situation, you could pretend that nothing happened, avoid Joel for a while until the matter resolved itself. Because he definitely just wanted to please you. Flowers are not a wedding promise, right?

"Pull yourself together, kid." you muttered to yourself as you got up from the floor. “It's just Joel. Just stupid flowers. Nothing more. Don't look for something in it that isn't there.”

You could have avoided Miller, but Ellie found you the next day. She wasn't happy when you told her you wouldn't be going on patrol with them for a while and you were taking on other responsibilities in Jackson.

"But it was so fun!" the girl groaned, leaning against the bar counter. “Even Joel had fun.”

"Right. But you see, we can't spend every free moment together, Ellie." you replied, placing the just-washed glasses in the cabinet.

"Why not?"

"Because I guess I feel awkward when Joel is around." of course you didn't tell her that and she couldn't read your mind.

"Do you have anyone?"

"W-What?!" the glass almost fell out of your hand.

"Maybe you're dating someone and that's why you can't see us?"

"Bullshit."

"And your flower guy? What about him? Did he talk to you? Did he show up?"

"Ellie, please. Can you get off of me?"

"I knew it! He must have been some hideously ugly and sleazy guy!"

"Ellie!" you interrupted her, placing your hands on your hips. “Stop it! I don't want to talk about it. These are adult matters, not for you.”

"Oh, sure! Joel says the same thing when I ask him where he's going alone this early in the morning. 'None of your business, kid.'" the girl mimicked the low tone of Joel's voice, "You two should meet up and talk about your adult stuff, because you're both acting weird." "

Was it easy for you? NO.

Did you feel bad for Ellie and Joel? Yes. Especially towards Joel.

Would you give anything to go back to the way it was before? Yes. You guess.

There was one big swirl of thoughts in your head, and your life had been like a game of hide and seek for several days. Flowers continued to appear on your doormat and you felt extremely guilty.

You liked Joel. Even very much. You could list a lot of his advantages and disadvantages, but it all made him what he was. You missed him so much, but you were afraid that if you went any further, your friendship might suffer. And then avoiding him in Jackson would be even more difficult.

It happened the day you were cleaning one of the warehouses. It was already starting to get dark outside when you, completely immersed in your thoughts, were arranging cans and jars on wooden shelves.

"I got you."

It was like a gunshot. A low and warm voice appeared out of nowhere, but you knew its owner perfectly.

You turned around. Joel stood leaning against the door, watching you warily. His denim shirt had a few buttons undone and his arms were folded across his chest.

"Oh, hi." you mumbled, "I didn't hear you come in. Do you need anything?"

"You." he replied and you felt your throat tighten.

You must have looked scared, because Miller added after a moment.

"I mean... Fuck." he cleared his throat, "I was looking for you because you seem to have been avoiding me lately."

"Where did this idea come from?" you tried to smile, but it probably came out too nervous. “I'm definitely not avoiding you. I've just been busy. Just busy.”

"I got a different impression."

You didn't know how to respond to that so you tried to go back to work, but Joel was still standing there. You felt his eyes on you and your cheeks burned.

"So everything's okay between us?" he asked after a moment of silence.

"Definitely." you replied quickly, "Everything's great!"

"Okay then."

Silence again. It would be easier for you if he left, but he still stood there.

"You know, Ellie thinks you're seeing someone." he started again.

You turned to Joel.

"No, that's not true. I already told her about it." you replied, "I don't know why we're even bringing this up, Joel. I've had some work to do lately. I can't be with you all the time, even if I wanted to... It's complicated, Joel."

"I get it. It's a little complicated for me too, because I really like being with you."

You bit your lip because those words were really...nice. And comfortable for you. You missed him so much that it was hard for you to admit it, even to yourself.

“Listen, Y/N. I'm really bad at this.” Joel nervously placed his hands on his hips. "I haven't done this in years and it might seem embarrassing. Ellie would definitely say I'm acting like an idiot. I think I know why you've been avoiding me, and it's not because of work."

"You think so?"

"Yeah."

The ball was in your court. Joel stood in front of you, completely disarmed and needing your help to sort this all out.

"I know it's you, Joel." you started hesitantly, "Those flowers, I saw you the other morning. It kind of surprised me."

"Did I do something wrong? I'm sorry, I..."

"NO!" you interrupted him quickly. "It was the nicest thing that's happened to me in a long time. I was just scared, you know. We're friends, I don't want any of our bad decisions to change that."

“We're only human, Y/N. We'll always make bad decisions, but there will be good ones too.”

"But should we take the risk? I really like you a lot, Joel. I've missed you so much."

He walked towards you slowly.

"I missed you too." he said "God, every day I found myself wanting to look at you, hear your voice or laugh. And then I realized that you weren't with me. I didn't want you to feel trapped by me."

"I didn't feel like that! I guess I never realized what I felt. Having you next to me was just natural to me."

"Same here." he smiled "I guess we actually acted like fucking kids."

"I think so. Ellie wouldn't leave us alone if she found out."

"She'll find out anyway." Joel shrugged. “Because now I want to do it right, Y/N. I know we don't have many options, but maybe you'd like to... Fuck.” he took a deep breath. "Maybe you'd like to spend the evening with me? We can have a few drinks, talk, and spend some time together. Alone."

"Sounds really good."

His face lit up with a smile, and you realized how much you missed him. Maybe it was stupid, maybe you were acting like kids, but why wouldn't you?

When Joel left the warehouse, he seemed to be in a really good mood, and you felt a flock of butterflies in your stomach. You wanted to spend this evening with him, you wanted to see his wonderful and warm eyes again. You may have had a soft spot for him, but he definitely felt the same way.

And you were both like teenagers, and that was good.

☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

#joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller #the last of us #pedro pascal #joel miller x female reader

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admirationandromantics · 2 months ago

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Chocolates

Fucking hell, the way I had to take several breaks from this. Most intense writing I think I've done. Anyway, this was also a request (plus a little creative freedom from me), so hope you like it. Also think this is kinda intense, so I'll have warnings. Everyone should already know my blog is 18++ also.

Warnings: drugging (kinda), fingering, penetration, p in v, unprotected, pleading, teasing, edging, heavy buildup, overstimulation (fr), blowjob.

I think that's it, at least I hope. Don't stop sending requests! I promise, I see them, but it takes some time to write these things <3

Word count: 3,6k (Unedited)

I put the warm drinks on the table, taking the controller and turning on the tv. Josh and I were going to have a movie night, the last get-together before christmas. Sadly, everyone else left early to go home, and the only ones still on campus were us. I didn’t mind though, usually enjoying his company the most. Except for when he jumps me or pranks me, that little shit. The little love I have for him immediately fades, and I feel nothing but contempt for at least five minutes. His warm behaviour usually fixes my temper.

“What do you want to watch?” I shout to the kitchen, scrolling though several.

“A Christmas one!”

I move to the Christmas category, unsure about what to pick. I could put on a sappy romance, a scary one or something like that. I decide to take the romantic one. He’ll hate it, considering his specific taste in movies. I turn it on, pausing while waiting for him to join me on the couch.

“And here we are” he exclaims, walking over and putting a bowl of candy in front of us. It’s filled with a variety, chocolate, gummies, and sour jellies. I am quick to grab one on the top, putting it in my mouth. The sourness gets to me, and I have to fight a grimace from appearing.

“What are we watching?” he sits down beside me, arm going over the back of the couch.

“Something great” I smile, unpausing it and letting it roll. The movie name appears, and he sighs.

“Really? This crap?”

“Shut up Washington, you could’ve picked it you were here”

“I was in the other room!”

“Shhh, pay attention” I put my finger in front of his lips, eyes still plastered on the screen. This is a great movie after all. A sudden sharpness is felt on my hand, and I jolt at the sensation. To my left, Josh bit my finger, his tongue gracing over it slightly. I pull it away, drying it on his sweater.

“You’re disgusting” He only laughs, that playful smile on his lips.

“Not as disgusting as this movie’s gonna be” I roll my eyes at his remark.

“Have you seen it before?”

“No”

My mouth opens wide in surprise. How dare he judge before even having seen it. I shake my head, looking back on the screen and urging him to do the same. I take the bowl of candy, placing it on his lap for easy access, without having the responsibility of keeping it steady.

During the film, I occasionally look over at him, and he’s always paying attention to it. He likes it, I know. I can’t help the smile that creeps on my face. I move closer, head resting on his chest as we continue watching.

“Chocolate?” he asks, one arm going around my body. I open my mouth in response, and he takes one out of the bowl, putting it in my mouth. This is not unusual for us, normally being close and touchy. I guess that’s the type of person he is. Maybe it grounds him, or makes him feel secure. I suck and bite, swallowing the piece of candy not long after. It tastes weird, and I take a normal gummy to get rid of the flavour.

As we keep going, he often feeds me small pieces of chocolate, and I let him. I know he brought it, and it was some expensive shit he bought a while ago. I don’t want to be ungrateful, so I keep swallowing them.

Twenty minutes go by, and I feel my body heating up, chest heaving a bit. I look around, wondering what happened to the temperature.

“You good?” he asks, looking over at me.

“Um, yeah. Is it hot in here?”

“No, we opened the windows before the movie”

I nod in response, trying to ignore the warm feelings creeping through my body. Another ten minutes go by, and I feel crazy. I refuse to believe that a small room with an open window can be this warm in the middle of winter. Do I have a fever? Am I sick?

I suddenly feel very aware of his hand on my arm. Thumb rubbing regularly up and down. A shiver runs through me, thinking about the other things his finger might do. This is not an unusual thought, but I’ve never gotten so worked up so quickly from it. My heat aches for stimulation, and I press my legs together instinctively. Don’t start rubbing, don’t start rubbing. You’re literally laying on top of him for goodness sake, I keep chanting to myself. My breath quickens, and I try to stabilise it, now wanting him to see me like this. Why am I getting so incredibly worked up?

His hand suddenly grabs my arm hard, letting go as quickly as he squeezed. I let out an uncontrollable gasp, my hand racing to my mouth to stop any other sounds from coming out.

“Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah, I’m fine”

“You got a sore spot here or something? So sorry” he apologies, arm going further down, stopping on my waist. Shit, I should've kept my mouth shut. Every part of me feels like a sore spot, each caress and small movement making me leak. God, there was definitely going to be water damage on the sofa if he kept touching me.

The worst part is that he isn’t even touching me inappropriately, hand just resting on the side of my waist. His fingers trace the hem of my shirt, sliding a little under it, touching my bare skin. He’s caressing me, skin to skin. God how I want him to continue.

This is not normal. Feeling these feelings so intensely as I am right now. How did it come to this? Have I been touch-deprived, sex-starved? I pleasure myself regularly, so I don’t know why this sudden wave has come over me. I can only think of one thing to do.

“I-I have to go to the bathroom” I whisper, feeling cripplingly erotic and needy. It feels like a thirst I’m unable to clench, like I’m about to come at any given moment. I try to stand up, feeling my legs almost give out. This was not gonna be easy. I walk, but am stopped by a hand holding mine.

“The movie is almost over, can’t you wait a bit?” he smiles. It’s kind of guilty, but I don’t react to it. Instead wondering how his lips feel on my-

“Okay, sure”

I sit back down, now beside him and not on top. Maybe this’ll help. Before I’m able to calm down, his hand moves under my thigh, dragging my legs over him, causing my back to hit the couch. Fuck. I’ve never been so turned on in my life, imagining him slamming me down, slowly moving from my legs and up.

His hand graces up and down my thigh in a rhythmic motion, each slide giving me goosebumps and getting me wetter. I kill a couple of whimpers trying to escape my mouth, biting my lips to stop a loud gasp.

I haven’t paid attention to the movie, my eyes are either on him, imagining filthy things, or closed, trying to regulate my breathing and sounds. He keeps eating from the bowl, but never the chocolate, only the other candies. He loves chocolate, why isn’t he eating? Has he done something to it? Like that time I tasted a clump of cayenne pepper in my popcorn.

“Eat the chocolate” I order him, and his face shifts to me. He smirks, knowing that I’ve figured something out.

“Why?”

“Because you’ve done something to it”

“No I haven’t”

“If you haven’t, then eat it”

He still keeps his smirk intact, holding eye contact while taking a piece and putting it in his mouth. I feel confusion wash over me, adding another feeling to the bothering emotional mess I am right now. If he ate it, he didn’t do anything to it.

“There you go, would you like me to eat another one princess?” he teases, hand moving from the outside of my thigh to between them, making me smack them shut on him. The nickname, the eye contact, smirk, teasing and his movements. My hand flies to my mouth, looking away as I try to contain my sounds.

“Struggling a bit?”

I look over at him again. He knows what he’s done, and I know it too. His teasing nature and playful expression. He’s loving this.

“You fucking -ahh!” his hand moves lower, fingertips grabbing my flesh, leading me to stop mid sentence.

“Careful, you seem a bit worked up”

“No shit Josh!” I yell, becoming a hot mess. He laughs in response, taking another chocolate and putting it in his mouth, tongue going a little out of his mouth to catch the thin slice.

“What the hell Josh!”

“What?” he acts innocent, trying to hold his laugh.

“Why did you do this to me, I thought I was going crazy”

“Aren’t you usually?”

“Josh!”

“Okay, okay, just wanted to see if they worked and didn’t want to placebo myself, so I had to try another method”

“And that was me?”

“Damn right”

“Jesus Christ”

He starts laughing, fingers still gracing up and down my legs, making me bite my lips. No way this man was gonna get any more satisfaction out of me.

“It was worth it”

“Worth it?”

“Seeing you squirming under me the whole time, struggling to keep quiet. Every little touch, even the ones I didn’t mean to give gave such grand reactions”

“God I hate you”

“Do you really?”

“Ye- fuck!” his hand moves over to my heat, tender touches in a teasing manner. My hips automatically jolt, pulling myself closer to him.

“Fucking hell, you’re desperate for me”

“Don’t you have anything to wear off the effects of this thing?” I plead, my body turning to putty from his touches.

“I mean, no, we could fuck it out but-”

“Yes do that”

His expression changes to surprise as I keep squirming, desperate for some type of release or friction. I could literally come from a single touch right now, so close to the edge.

“Nah” he shrugs, throwing my legs off him and taking another piece of chocolate.

“What?”

“You’re desperate, you don’t know what you want”

“I swear to god Josh, if you don’t-”

“What are you gonna do? Your body is so tensed up right now that you can barely take a step” he crosses his arms, biting his lip slightly.

“Josh, please”

“No”

“Fucking hell” I gasp, throwing my head back to contain myself. He looks over at my pathetic mess of a girl.

“I mean, I guess it would be different if you did it with someone you’ve actually wanted for some time”

He knows something, he must know something. Why else would he pine me like this, trying to get a confession out of me. I have to give out, my body needy and pining. I sit up, placing myself on his lap so we’re face to face. He only smirks in response. Of course he knows, I haven’t exactly tried to hide my feelings.

“What?”

“You know what” I state, closing the distance and kissing him. He returns it, hands going to my upper thighs, getting me to grind on his already hard boner. His face pulls away, already a breathing mess.

“I want you to tell me, tell me you love me”

I lean forwards, barely touching our lips.

“I love you Josh”

His hand moves to the back of my neck, pulling me into him in a sloppy kiss. He gets rougher, teeth biting down on my lower lip. My arms go around him, tugging at his sweater from behind. He leans forward, letting me pull it off and throw it on the floor. He does the same to me, not even looking at my bra before clasping it off as well. He’s not in his right mind, eyes glossy and lustful. Is this how I’ve been looking the entire evening? He goes straight for the kill, kissing and biting my collar and chest, taking my boob and leaving dark marks all over.

None of us can control the sounds we make, the room filling up with groans, whimpers and moans. He tries to take my pants off, and I sit up so they make it down to my knees. I pull them off the rest of the way, leaving them with our tops. His hand goes down to my heat, feeling the soaked panties.

“Christ, you’re wet”

“I’ve been trying to tell you”

“Something has to be done then”

He moves the fabric to the side, fingers gracing my folds all the way up to my clit. My breath hitches, and I push myself against him. A small snicker leaves his lips as my head rests on his shoulders. My hips buckle, trying to take advantage of his fingers.

“I want to see you” he whispers in my ear, his other hand pushing me back down on his lap, face to face. He inserts two of his fingers, fascinated by my blushing mess of an expression and sounds. I start moving, trying to get more out of him, and he smirks at my attempt. My hand flies down to do it myself, but he’s too quick, grabbing my wrist and placing my hand on his shoulder. He loves this, having full control when I’m not even able to control myself. His fingers start pumping in and out, thumb rubbing my clit at the same time. How does he do it? How is he so good at this? The tightened knot in my stomach finally pulls, and I come all over him, only feeling ecstasy for a small moment before a new tension starts building up.

“Already ready for more? This is gonna be a long night”

“Shut up and do your thing Josh”

“Harsh words coming from you when you’re at my mercy”

“Wait for the chocolate to hit and let’s see how you feel then”

“Okay, okay, I’ll keep going” His fingers continue their attack, the other hand pushing my body against him, giving him access to my neck. He moves away the stray hairs, and starts kissing my collar. Wet and weak ones, some barely touching. I cry out as I come again, euphoria and dizziness overtaking me. I hold his shoulders firmly, needing to set my balance. He smirks against my skin, keeping his pace and technique, ready to get me going again.

My body is already tired, but the effects of the chocolate still rushes through my body, making me all hot and bothered again.

“Come on, you can do it one more time for me”

His words fuel me, making me wetter and desperate. I need him inside me, I need to feel him.

“Josh…” I whimper, his fingers working their magic, and stacking a third orgasm on me as I come. He laughs.

“This is actually awesome”

“You sound like a child” I say, breathless and sloppy.

“I’m just fascinated”

“God I hate you” I whimper, the tension already starting to build up again. How much of this substance did he give me?

“If this is hate then I’m loving it” he smirks, cheeks red and face hot. He’s starting to feel the effects, and I know it. I lower myself on him, pushing down and grinding. His head falls back as he groans, hands flying to my hips, guiding me. I look down, and start messing with his pants, unbuttoning it and gliding down the zipper. He’s hard, making a tent in his boxers. I grab him, earning a small whimper in reply.

“Cat got your tongue Joshy?” I tease, getting wetter by the way I treat him. Oh, how he was gonna get back. I jump off him, sitting down below the couch and pulling his pants down. I do the same with his boxers, leaving him naked in front of me. I take it in, seeing how beautiful he’s in the dim yellow light. My eyes fly over his toned stomach, each curvation being highlighted by the shine. He’s breathing heavily, heaving almost. I notice the slight twitch of his hand, fingers struggling to stop themselves. He wants to get off, and he’s trying not to.

I’m not going to be that mean, and I lean forward, grabbing hold of his dick, slowly jerking up and down. He falls back yet again, finally feeling the pleasure he’s been craving. My other hand goes to take off my underwear, sliding the fabric off my feet. I push myself forward, taking a long lick over his shaft, making him let out a choked moan. With my lips at his tip, I take him in, as much as possible. My hand still remains on the base of him, still moving. My head follows the movement, bopping myself up and down as the tip reaches the back of my throat.

I feel tears in the corners of my eyes, struggling not to fall. I can’t help the sounds coming out of me as I keep up the pace. His hands take hold of my head, forcing it up and down.

“Yes, yes, just like that” he moans, desperate and needy. I let him work my head, grabbing my hair harshly. My hand wanders to my heat, rubbing and stimulating the area. I look up, his eyes wild and lips wet. He starts twitching in my mouth, letting me know he’s nearing his edge. He stops mid-push, slowly dragging my head off him, making a loud pop-sound. I relax in his hands, feeling his thumb clean off my chin.

“Get up here”

I oblige, getting on top of him again and colliding. Our lips lock, tongues fret as we make out. He slowly moves us, leaning my back down on the sofa. My hands wander to the back of his neck pulling him closer. I’ve never wanted someone so close before, needing to feel him all over me, to touch me everywhere, cage me, lay on top of me, just melt into me. His hand grabs my jaw, tilting my face to the side as he leaves kisses down my neck and stomach. He hoists my legs upon his shoulders before taking a lick over my heat.

“Fuck”

He keeps going, sucking and stimulating my clit, making me come over his mouth. He doesn’t stop, fingers moving inside me, making me get off and keep the euphoric high I’m drunk on. I get dizzier as he continues, trying to milk me all dry. I come again, throwing my head back and crying out. Tears of pleasure and pain fall down my cheeks, breath hitching and desperate.

He moves over to me, letting me taste myself on his tongue. He looks satisfied, at least a little. Proud of himself and his accomplishments tonight. I stroke his hair, pushing it out of the way. He’s gorgeous. Breathless, sweaty, horny and beautiful.

“Are you okay?”

I smile, nodding in response. “I’ve never felt better”

He smiles, too tired to keep up his cocky persona. I feel his dick gracing my entrance, begging to be let in. I lean towards him, signalling for him to get into me, to fill me up. He does as told, slowly pushing himself in, my walls surrounding him. It goes easily because of our arousals, juices mixing and spilling. He gets all the way in, and I gasp at his size. He doesn’t waste time, moving quickly, going all the way out before slamming into me again. The window is still open, probably making the whole neighbourhood hear us. His hand moves to my clit, rubbing as he continues moving.

“Josh…”

“Yeah, I’m here”

“I’m gonna”

I cum again, body almost shutting down. I can’t move my arms or legs, the overstimulation and continuous cumming making me sore and exhausted. I tighten around him, not meaning to, and he moans my name. He leans over, kissing me and making us swallow each other's sounds. I come again, legs twitching and core tightening again. Pain and pleasure mix as they run through my spine and up to my head, coming out as yet another scream.

“You’re doing so well for me” he whispers, voice choked and tired. He was almost done, almost done getting off from being with me, in me. A last deep thrust seals it, and his head falls in the crook of my head as he comes and twitches.

We’re both breathing heavily, trying to calm our pulse. As the chocolade wears off, I sense how sore I am, how tired and destroyed my whole body is. At the same time, it’s filled with happiness. I’ve had sex with Josh Washington, my Josh, who loves me.

A kiss on my neck brings me back to reality, and I look down to see that he’s gained his strength back. That was fast.

“So, did you like the chocolate?”

“I’m gonna kill you”

“You can try, but that doesn’t stop the fact that you love me, and just came like… how many times?”

“Jesus Christ”

“That’s what I thought”

His hand moves to caress my stomach, and I suddenly feel really cold. The room is freezing, and I shuffle closer to him, stealing his warmth.

“Want to take a shower?”

“If I can walk” I smile, not really knowing how to get up.

“Luckily, I’ve got arms” he teases, standing up and taking hold of me.

“I’m still gonna kill you”

“Sure you are”

#until dawn #joshua washington #josh washington #josh washington x reader #josh washington x reader smut #josh washington smut #josh washington imagines #josh washington until dawn #joshua washington x reader smut #joshua washington smut #joshua washington x reader #Joshua Washington oneshot #until dawn smut #until dawn josh #josh until dawn #until dawn x reader #until dawn fanfiction #until dawn fanfics #until dawn imagines

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coffee-and-tea-time · 4 months ago

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⁺˚⋆｡°⚝ You choose... me? ⚝°｡⋆˚⁺

thank you thank you thank you thank you Yandere! Hacker x Yandere Lover! Reader

Did you miss us? ( ๑‾̀��‾́)✨

We honestly loved writing this geek, we end up adding some mention of yanderes games we play together! (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧ Coffee likes to watch me react to yandere vns oh, don't act like you didn't melt over some of them too shhh. Anyways, hope you all enjoy reading this as much as we enjoy writing it! ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ - Tea

Woah, feels like it's been a long time! (since I last have seen my son lost to this monster, to the man behind the slaughter) ♡ˎˊ˗ tbh I could keep talking about this for hours, I love yanderes (づ> v <)づ♡ * Jack Skellington is still in his Christmas phase? Maybe I could ask him for one as an early gift - coffee

if you want context, you can go here but it's not that necessary we think - the twins

word count: 3.3k

tw: yandere behavior, willing reader, writing in you/yours, this got some internet/yandere references hope y’all catch them (links will be below the story, please do tell us if we missed any) If you don’t know them, take them as recommendations ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ (weird to say that when there’s a blood soup reference on here, is like the canon event of everyone who likes yanderes), anxiety attack?, yapper yandere

Huh, honestly the one that struck you the most sure had to be Grier, you still can catch every so often from the corner of your eye how different security cameras move all of the sudden, probably hoping to find one not taped unsuccessfully, talk about stalkerish, cute.

“I will choose… Grier”

The seller gives you a soft sigh, almost of defeat but also relief, tapping his foot as he glances over at the one security camera that was moving now on the far right corner of the shop, moving frantically from side to side as if searching for something. He abruptly lifts up from his seat and groans.

“Alright, I'll go get the ladder…”

The seller goes down the wooden ladder after taking the tape off the camera lense and signs for you to come closer to it.

"The cameras here don't have sound but showing you to him should be enough of a clue all by itself"

You freeze as the security camera focuses on you, standing there, you wave awkwardly and the camera starts moving side to side abruptly before freezing, like the person behind it moved away from it.

"Well, either he fainted or he is coming right away!"

The seller says in a cheerful voice as he goes to cover the camera lense again with a strip of tape. A couple of minutes pass before you hear the screeching stop of a car parking in front of the shop hurriedly, soon followed by a panting man who barges inside like his life depended on it.

“I’m here! I'm here!!”

He says almost tripping on his own feet as he shoves in your face a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

"Oh, those are my favorites! Thank you"

"I-I know, don't worry, I made sure to do a quick background check on your medical history so I don't trigger any allergies, I promise I will gather more information tonight! Don't worry"

Well, you can’t really be surprised by his actions since you were warned, though you were by his speed, how did he manage to hurry here driving, buy you flowers and check your medical history in the process? I guess you’d never know, maybe he's a student of Penelope García.

“Well, Grie-”

As the seller attempts to congratulate you both, hand hovering over your shoulder to pat it as a friendly mannerism, Grier is quick to slap it away with a glare that makes you remember a surly cat.

“Is everything ready? I would much rather finish paperwork as quickly as possible”

Wow, that’s a really sudden change of tone, the distant and somewhat professional posture he took in a matter of seconds makes you think if the Grier that was tripping over his feet, babbling nervously while giving you flowers was just a trick of your imagination, but the theory quickly dies as he places his stare on you again, his expression completely changing, getting all flustered and blushy again… cute.

“Well, shall we get going? I hope you like my house but of course you can redecorate it- we can redecorate it oh maybe we should go first to your house to get an example? I can mimic your space so you feel comfier although if that makes you uncomfortable of course we don't need to I just would love to know more about you so that I don't messed up, well, not only things I mean get to everything about you, but please don't feel pressur-”

“Grier, we got the memo, continue yapping out of the store. And for you Dear, I hope you find your happy ending with that parrot you bought, no refunds or returns are allowed."

The seller, who looks like he's about to get a migraine if he keeps hearing Grier, quickly kicks him out and says his farewells to you. As you exit the store behind Grier, he is quick to show you the way to his car.

"Thanks.. uh, do you mind if we go to my place real quick?"

Well, it's pretty obvious he will take you to his house and you can't really back up now so, you only need to gather some thi- oh, he's already panicking.

"Your place? Going to mine doesn't sound appealing? I-I can change it! What's the thing you would totally love that my house had? It's not like I don't want to see your house I honestly would love to but you do plan to come to mine after, right? Maybe you'd rather be in your place? But then we'd be so far away… or course I don't want to bother you I swear I can do and buy whatever will suit you best to be comfortabl-"

"We're gonna go grab some of my clothes! I need my things, then we can go to your house"

The seller wasn't lying when he said Grier is a rambler type of person, but you can't really be annoyed by it, his voice is honestly so damn good, and the way it sounded when he went all serious mode talking to the seller was just… wait, no, no time for simping right now, you gotta think what do you need to gather from your house.

"Oh yes of course of course sorry I got worried for a momento although it would've nice to go shopping together if you forgot something of course we can also shop online if you don't really like crowded places oh, I… god"

As he was talking, you honestly were more focused on how pretty his watery eyes are, just hearing bla bla bla, you can't help but start caressing his hair, it seems like it took him by surprise but certainly not in a bad way, leaning into your touch as you run your fingers through his messy, wavy but soft hair, you must admit that you thought it was tangled at first but that isn't the case.

Ah, right, your things.

"Well, shall we get going?"

You watch him nod, seeming incredibly out of words, as he red faced opens the door for you before going to his seat and searching for something in his phone before he starts driving. Uh, then you have full control over the music? He seems like in his own world and you hardly doubt he minds you changing the music when he still can't even cool down his blush… you must tease him from time to time for funsies, noted.

Part of you wanted to put that one song from ayesha erotica but maybe it was a little weird, so you switch to the safe choice: do nothing. You switch to your phone to make a little note for yourself about important things you need.

Oh, right

You forgot to tell him your address because you were too focused on other things, well… just as you remembered he was already parking in front of your apartment anyways-

Grier makes his way out of the car once the engine is off, walking around the car to open the door for you, helping you out with his hand, then walking alongside you as you make your way up to your floor and through the door of your apartment.

"Here, make yourself at home, I’ll be picking my clothes”

Although it doesn’t seem very smart to let someone like him snoop around, though you can’t help but also be curious about what he will do and, well, it’s not like he can do much since it's just your house… right?

Anyways, you left him for a moment to go pack clothes, catching him nervously walking around from time to time, but he seems really the quiet type, surely more on the soft yandere side, his droopy innocent eyes made him look the part. damn wrong Dear, you seems like a yandere amateur, try again.

"Ugh, I still have so much to pack"

You murmured, already getting tired of the repetitive grap-and-pack motion, impatient to get to talk to your little yapper and get to know him better. Speaking of the devil, you feel his presence behind you, his shadow betraying his location as it engulfs you, then feeling a soft tap on your shoulder, so soft in fact it seemed as if your shoulder was made of needles.

"You don't have to worry about your computer and stuff. I already have them backed up, t-to save you time! Since you seemed stressed and said I could snoop around I thought about helping a bit and backing up your devices… same with all your accounts- just to help of course"

Well, now you know what he was up to while you were busy.

WAIT A DAMN MINUTE

"...did you check my browser history?"

You blurt out the question as you run through the chance of any incriminating, possibly cringy, piece of information in your phone that might require some explanation… God forbid if he found your tumblr-

"...No"

He did.

"I have a tiny question though, if you don't mind of course- the last thing I want to do is bother you in any way"

He totally did.

"....depends, what do you want to ask, Dear?"

Okay, you got this, you got a yandere for something. Whatever he asks you, if it turns out awkward, there's little that can't be solved by some pampering when it's related to yanderes, how he giggled when you called him Dear confirming this notion. You got this.

"I just was, you know, curious about what games you played, I wasn't prying! But, you know, it's good to know your interest to get to know you better and maybe play together while cuddling on the couch and have some hot cocoa with little marshmallows as we wrap ourselves in a big blanket…. Anyways, the point it's… what's exactly your type?"

Okay, you don't got this.

"Huh, how is one thing related to another?"

It's better to buy a little time while you think of a correct answer for that. Would it be too cheesy to say something like 'you'? Maybe you really should have bought that manual for 'how to take care of your yandere' when they offered it to you on the website.

"Well, wandering around a bit I found you seem to like playing something called 'dating sim'? According to what I saw it's like flirting and romance virtual characters although the stories really differ from one to another which makes it really confusing to figure out what's your taste to be honest"

Alright, you have to reply quickly to give him some peace, maybe he found one that really didn't resemble him and got nervous? It doesn't sound wise to let a yandere get insecure.

"My type is…"

You gently place your hand on his chin to make him look directly into your eyes.

“Let 's see… My type has gorgeous, green, droopy eyes, a bedhead that, I must say, is pretty damn soft, the kinda guy that rambles a lot and seems to have this nervous habit of straightening his clothes and, especially, my type is a certain guy that can't take his eyes off of me”

You watch as a red tint paints his cheeks, a shivering smile appears on his face as he takes a step closer to you nuzzling himself onto your hand like a cat asking for attention.

"Really? Can you promise that? Will you willingly say that into a microphone? Just for the record, do you really really see me as your ideal?"

"Of course, of course, who wouldn't find an adorable hacker this endearing?'

"Then... you got a thing for hackers? So, your favorite was that seven zero seven?"

Did you really hear that right?

…

You can’t help but feel your past haunting your back.

"It's a really good character, although, I find kinda sad that seven has this hint at him being aware of every reset"

Does this count as dodging the question? Maybe.

"Following that logic, I'm aware of every breath you take so does that means I can get more of your attention? Or maybe I'm being too greedy though you seem to have spent a lot of your time romancing them, obviously I'm not judging you but that means that it would be okay also for me to check on you at every hour, even if it's 2 am? Just to make sure you don't need anything, of course! That you're well cared for… or do I require something else to be worthy of that? Please tell me, is it my personality? I don't really think so since, well, I see you gush over intense personalities such as that… Damon? Deimon? The game isn't even finished but you seem to like everything about him although he doesn't really show you about himself. That means that what makes up your favorability is... The attention over you?"

Oh god, he found itchi.io, better start praying he didn't see anything weird.

"Well, they are just… games I played because I was bored, you shouldn't look too much into those”

"But you play more than one or two which means that you really enjoyed playing them and searching for more of that kind but I can't help but be confused and intrigued about what is that something, you even liked one where the characters shared the same body as a human and… a fae? I didn't really understand but they seem really different, which makes it very hard to find a pattern, but that isn't the only one you played like that, you also have one that switches between a shy boy and a flirty one, do you like the contrast? What exactly is that thing that makes you fawn over them? Maybe it would be good if I got two different aesthetics? I can't hide my name like that ‘redacted’ guy that looks mysterious…but I can change looks out of the blue and leave little clues of something? But, about what? I really don't have that much to tell and my stalking it's pretty much obvious, I also don't have superpowers to act like the hero one."

"Honey, it's okay, you don't need to do such a thing, as I said, I like you, those are just games I play in my free time to not get bored"

"Maybe it will be better if I go directly to straightforward characters? That 'Friend' was really honest most of the time, that… fan? Monster? Also was honest, why is there so much variety? But there also was people that were better at hiding it like that mushroom boy or that sol… it's difficult to stabilize a pattern if they keep variating so much, maybe I should put my focus on the ones you know the longer, I had to buy a seifuku and chase you with a chainsaw? No, there's the possibility I could injure you and I absolutely can't risk that, maybe I can buy a mannequin and put a synthetic deer head and say it my brother"

Okay, just how many did he see? Why does he need a pattern in the first place? You literally choose him, but well, he seems to want it to get more of your attention… Why don't give him so? Probably will help him to calm down, you aren't planning to do a crossover of Perfect Love with this guy.

"Dear, look directly at me for a second, did you hear what I was telling you? Listen to me, those are games, you are the one here with me, don't you think that you are already winning by far with that thing alone?"

You pinch his cheeks to get him to stop rambling about favorites, finally, and his eyes seem focused on you once again.

"Well, that's right, I'm the one feeling your touch, even if is a romance game, I'm the one closer to you although I'm not a big fan of you giggling and choosing flirty things but that hobby also means staying more at home where I can stick around more, if I think it carefully, it's something safe overall”

As you let go of his cheeks, he is quick to hold your hand in order to forbid you to move it away, leaning his cheek into your palm again as he talks.

"Yeh, there's a lot of people with the same taste in stories that me, so you can say they are pretty popular, don't look into it so much, there's no need to bother your mind with such a thing, these are just things I enjoy reading"

"It's true that they are just stories, you enjoy reading about lovesick so much? That's why you use tumblr? It makes sense since the blogs you follows also have the same theme and there's even one you seems to check frequent that's seems to have everything about yanderes… that's like you don't enjoy them in particular but the yandere part, don't you? That… sounds wonderful like it was probably obvious since you bought me but if you keep so much of your time looking for more of them that means you will just love my little antics too? please please say yes please please please"

Fuck, he did enter to your tumblr and even checks your followings, thanks god he end up with a good train of thought at the end.

"Yes, you're the one here, you shouldn't worry about the little hobbies I have, I just enjoy the reading, It's called dark romance and every character is different because one thing or another, you gonna get a headache if you think about it too much"

And please don't search more. Sadly, you can say that, he will definitely search more if you said it like that.

"Well, that makes sense, after all, you won't go into the yandere shop if you don't know anything about the subject, and there's a lot of options and… I win, because you chose me to let me be with you”

Well, your danger Kitty seems a lot more calm by now, you should note that if he starts rambling non-stop, focusing your stare at him totally works.

Well, you better start going before he start snooping on tumblr or worse: find c.ai

"Love, you know something? I'm getting sleepy, why don't we finish packing another day? I'm curious to see how it's your place"

"O-oh yes yes of course! I hope you find my house of your likeness but of course you can change whatever you don't like or if the neighborhood is not of your likeness we can also change that just differents methods I'd it the locations or the neighbors perse but I can totally take care of it you said you were sleepy, don't you? I have a spare room but if you are comfortable with it my bed is pretty comfy of course the spare room also has a comfy bed but…"

He keep yapping, you can't really help but giggled as he goes on with excuses on why you two should totally nap together for a better sleep as you two make your way out with some of your things to put them in his car, and as you get comfortable on your seat and he drives…. The unthinkable happens.

"Yes, we can eat that after napping together dear"

"Awesome! I love to spend more time with you as much as possible, we can watch something as he eat, oh right, we can totally watch that anime you saw"

Just like your breath, the cars stop for a moment at the red light.

"...which anime?"

He smiles to you, like excited to show off he knows a cool fact and pull his phone to research something quickly, and show you a photo of that one anime.

"You did really liked tha-"

"We don't talk about that one"

You feel your past decisions haunting your back once again.

That one anime for me totally will be Diabolik Lovers ngl- don’t proud of myself on that (if curious, my fav Sakamaki was Kanato and fav Mukami was Azusa), although I saw weirder, I hope Grier doesn’t bring those up, I rather them buried ~ coffee

My questionable past anime has to be Brother’s conflict…WAIT THAT SOUNDS SO WRONG- I didn’t like the brothers aspect, not one bit! I sort of started watching thinking the thing was going to be about brothers being into the same girl and competing against each other, I didn’t think they’d be competing for their FUCKING STEP-SISTER. so yeah… the ending and opening were sick though…Coffee still teases me by playing them from time to time. ~ Tea (I totally recommend playing those out of the blue around a person who watched that anime, it's always fun ~ coffee)

All the links to the things Grier mentions in his ramblings:

Penelope Garcia is the hacker of criminal minds.

Binary Star Hero

A DOUBLE SIDED MIRROR

MONSTER X MEDIATOR

The Kid at the Back

Mystic Messenger (phone app)

*coff coff* I must say, the Tumblr blog Grier makes reference of, is totally talking about maleyanderecafe, if you like yanderes, you had to know them, they got everything about yanderes, I love them (so yeh, the mention is cuz I wanted to fangirl a little) ~ Coffee

See Thru: Need a Friend?

Inclement Idée Fixe

Mushroom Oasis

Broken Colors

Duality

14 Days With You

Perfect Love

Blood Soup

sorry for any misspellings or weird sentence structure ❣

images from pinterest ⚘

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