#But at the end of the day you still come home and feel alone when you really need support

[sidekick-hero]

A Leash, a Van, and a Christmas Plan

steddie | rated teen | 3.7k | tags: Christmas fluff, Nurse Steve, meet-cute, Bear the dog | Read on AO3

Steve had always wanted a dog—ever since he could remember. As a kid, he would beg his parents endlessly, swearing up and down that he’d take care of it. He’d walk it, feed it, clean up after it.

Despite all his promises, a dog remained one of the few things he didn’t get as a child, right alongside the attention and affection he truly craved.

So, the moment he could afford his own flat, he knew exactly what to do. Together with his best friend Robin, he made his way to the local shelter in search of a furry companion. Robin, a self-proclaimed cat person, indulged him in this quest to fulfill his childhood dream.

They wandered the shelter for what felt like hours. Even Robin started to joke that they should just take all the dogs home. Steve, however, found the decision nearly impossible. How could he pick just one? They all deserved to feel safe and loved.

Steve was not projecting. Okay?

Anyway, just as they were about to give up, they passed what looked like an empty kennel. A faint growl stopped Steve in his tracks. Curious, he stepped closer and found a small black bundle cowering in the far corner. The dog was young, terrified, and yet somehow still looked like it was ready to take on the entire world.

“Robin!” Steve called over his shoulder. His friend was busy fussing over a golden retriever a few kennels ahead. “Can you get someone from the staff?”

A week later, after passing all the background checks and paperwork, Steve brought Cerberus home.

The name wasn’t his idea. That credit went to Dustin, one of the kids who worked at the shelter. Dustin had taken one look at the little dog and declared that it would grow into a huge, black monster, making “Cerberus” the perfect name. Steve hated it—but he liked the kid enough to keep it.

Besides, they ended up calling him Bear anyway.

That had been three years ago. Since then, Bear had grown into the huge, black monster Dustin had predicted—well, minus the monster part. Unless, of course, you counted being a total cuddle monster.

Still, Bear was a big guy, and his size alone was enough to make most people wary. It didn’t help that he was fiercely protective of Steve, growling at anyone who dared to come too close. He always needed time to warm up to new people, but once you were accepted as part of his pack, you had a loyal friend for life.

Steve didn’t mind Bear’s intimidating presence, though. If anything, it made him feel safer. As a nurse at the local hospital, his unpredictable shifts meant late-night walks were a regular part of their routine. Bear’s size and low, rumbling growl made it easy for Steve to wander through quiet streets at night without a second thought.

It was on one of those walks—a bitterly cold December night, just two days before Christmas—that everything changed.

Months of working with Chrissy, his dog trainer, had paid off in more ways than one. Steve ended up with a kind-of-well-behaved-but-stubborn dog willing to (mostly) cooperate, and Robin got herself a girlfriend who was every bit as amazing as she deserved. Even if it meant that Steve would have to spend Christmas alone this year, while Robin took Chrissy home to her parents for the first time.

Usually, walking Bear was uneventful—a blessing, considering Steve, despite being fit and regularly working out at the hospital gym, was no match for 145 pounds of determined dog. Bear stayed close to Steve’s side, happy to keep watch, growling menacingly at any perceived threats but always trusting Steve to handle things.

That’s why Steve wasn’t gripping the leash as tightly as he should have been. His thoughts were far away, preoccupied with a little boy he’d been tending to—a boy stuck in the hospital over Christmas and heartbreakingly sad about it. Steve was busy planning ways to make the holiday festive for the kids in his ward when it happened: a sudden, sharp tug on the leash.

The leash slipped from his fingers before he could react.

“Bear!” Steve shouted, his voice cracking with shock and just a little more panic than he’d like. “Come!”

Bear, however, had other ideas. He bolted, disappearing into the dense trees at the edge of the park.

“Shit. Shit. Shit.” Steve swore as he took off after him, already regretting not listening to Robin when she suggested a cat. A cat, after all, wouldn’t have him tripping through brambles and stumbling over undergrowth, with only his runner’s light bouncing wildly to guide him.

Finding a black dog in the pitch-dark night was like looking for a needle in a haystack. Impossible.

“Bear!” Steve called again, cupping his hands around his mouth to carry his voice further. “Come here, buddy!”

He stopped, straining to hear anything—a rustle, a bark, a clue—but all he got in return was the sound of his own heavy breathing and the distant hoot of an owl. The silence felt louder somehow, now that one of his senses was compromised.

The realization crept in slowly, chilling him even more than the night air: he was alone, in the dark, with his dog gone and no one else around.

His breath came in visible puffs, clouds of mist dissipating into the cold. A shiver ran through him, though he couldn’t quite tell if it was from the cold or the unsettling weight of his surroundings. The trees loomed, their shadows stretching longer than they should, and everything felt just a little off.

He was on the verge of giving up—tears prickling at the corners of his eyes, frustration mixing with fear—when a loud snap echoed through the stillness.

Steve flinched, his heart leaping into his throat.

Then, a deep, rumbling growl broke through the stillness, followed by a sharp bark.

“Bear!” Steve shouted, bolting toward the sound. More barks followed, their tone higher and lighter—not aggressive, but curious.

“Good boy,” a voice called out, shaky but trying for calm. “Or—uh—good girl? I don’t want to assume, man. Or… woman. Shit. Please don’t eat me?”

The voice sounded young, male and unmistakably terrified. Steve couldn’t blame him. Anyone would panic if they were cornered by 145 pounds of black fur and sharp teeth.

Forcing his legs to move faster and silently praying he wouldn’t trip over a stray root or branch, Steve barreled toward the commotion, his heart pounding in his chest. Bear was obviously holding someone hostage, and Steve had no idea what he was about to find.

He burst through the trees and stumbled into a clearing. There, parked at the edge, was an old van—and standing on top of it was a man.

The guy had his hands raised in a desperate, placating gesture, his voice trembling as he pleaded with Steve’s dog.

“Easy, big guy. Good boy. Or girl. Seriously, no need for violence here—”

Steve couldn’t tell you why, but the whole thing was so absurd, so completely surreal. Bear, massive and proud, sitting at the base of the van like some four-legged guardian, and the poor guy perched on the roof like he’d been treed by a bear. The adrenaline coursing through Steve’s veins, paired with the overwhelming relief that Bear was safe—and that no one appeared to be bleeding—hit him all at once.

Steve doubled over, hands on his knees, laughing in near hysteria.

Both Bear and the guy turned toward Steve’s laughter. Bear let out a low whuff, the canine equivalent of “Look what I found!” Meanwhile, the guy, clearly panicked, shouted at him.

“Run! There’s a wild beast—it’ll tear you apart if you don’t move! Hurry! I can try to distract it, but I don’t know if it’ll work.”

Another wave of laughter threatened to bubble up, but Steve managed to swallow it down. The poor guy was terrified, and yet he was still trying to save Steve. It was kind of adorable, in a completely ridiculous way.

Instead of laughing more, Steve decided to end the guy’s suffering. He walked toward them, shaking his head.

“What the fuck are you doing, man?” the guy yelled, eyes wide. “Don’t come closer! I—I don’t think I can stop it!”

Steve smiled up at him, though in the dim light—provided by the van’s headlights and his bouncing runner’s light—he doubted the guy could see it. He kept walking until he was right beside Bear, the dog’s massive head level with his waist.

Calmly, he reached down to scratch behind Bear’s ears and said, loud enough for the guy to hear, “What do you think you’re doing, huh? We talked about this. No running away, and definitely no hunting down poor, innocent people.”

Bear responded with another satisfied whuff, his tail wagging furiously despite the fact that he was still sitting.

“What. The. Actual. Fuck.” The voice from above sounded incredulous. “Are you some kind of dog whisperer or that your beast?”

Steve looked up at Bear’s hostage, and upon realizing that his runner’s light was blinding him, turned it off. He could still see well enough with the headlights casting a warm light close by after his eyes had adjusted. The first thing he noticed were the guy’s eyes. They were huge and almost black in the low light, sitting atop full lips on a pale face framed by dark curls. He was adorable and hot.

“Sorry,” Steve began, running a hand through his hair. “Not a dog whisperer, or this big guy wouldn’t have bolted the second I got distracted and loosened my grip on the leash. In my defense, though, he’s never done that before. You must smell pretty incredible for him to chase you all the way down here.”

The moment the words left his mouth, Steve wanted to slap himself. Once upon a time, he had game. Real game. But apparently, those days were long gone, and now he was reduced to this—word vomiting as soon as he came face-to-face with a hot guy.

The guy—whom Steve had silently dubbed Bambi because of those wide, enchanting doe eyes—blinked at him, utterly speechless. Steve dared to hope he was overwhelmed by Steve’s suave charm, but that hope was dashed by the guy’s next words.

“Are you for real? You’re telling me it’s my fault for smelling like dog food that your… your beast chased me down?”

Something about the incredulous tone, coupled with the faint tremor in his voice that betrayed more lingering embarrassment than true anger, lit a spark of mischief in Steve. He wanted to make the guy laugh, to banish the last traces of fear, and—let’s be honest—to see how those full lips would look wrapped around a smile.

“Not dog food, no,” Steve said, tilting his head thoughtfully. “Bear here is a professionally trained drug detection dog. So he must’ve picked up something really interesting to go off the rails like that.”

It was meant as a joke—obviously, Bear was no such thing as a professionally trained anything. But at Steve’s words, Bambi’s eyes widened to cartoonish proportions. Before Steve could assure him he was kidding, the guy scrambled to climb down the other side of the van, his movements jerky with panic.

“Whoa, hey—wait!” Steve called out, stepping forward, but it was too late.

There was a sharp slip, followed by a dull thud and a pained groan.

Steve hurried toward the spot where Bambi had hit the ground with an alarming thud, but Bear was faster.

“Please make it quick, big guy. Haven’t I suffered enough already?” came a slightly wheezing voice, followed by another soft whuff.

When Steve rounded the corner of the van, he stopped dead in his tracks, the scene before him equal parts surreal and hilarious.

Bambi was sprawled on the ground, spread-eagled, his head tilted to one side. Bear sat beside him, their faces mere inches apart. Bear’s loose fur and skin hung comically, his head tilted in a way that screamed curiosity, as if he were silently asking, “What are you doing down there?”

Steve considered taking a picture. Robin and Chrissy would never believe this otherwise. But a low groan from Bambi snapped him out of it.

“Shit. Are you okay?” Steve asked, quickly crossing the remaining distance. He dropped to his knees on Bambi’s other side, mirroring Bear’s concerned expression as he leaned over him.

“This is hell,” Bambi muttered, his voice heavy with dramatic despair. “The hellhound Cerberus has chased me to my demise, and now Charon’s coming to ferry my soul to Tartarus.”

Steve blinked. Was this guy serious? A concussion seemed likely at this point. But it was hard to ignore the weird coincidence that Bambi knew Bear’s namesake.

“I’m so sorry, man,” Steve said, raking a hand through his hair. “It was just a joke—I didn’t think you’d believe me. Robin’s right. I’m hopeless.” He let out a frustrated groan. “I mean, who almost gets someone killed trying to make them laugh?”

To Steve’s surprise, a hand reached out and found his, squeezing it once.

“You wanted to make me laugh?” Bambi asked, his voice soft.

“That’s what you’re focusing on? Not the ‘almost got you killed’ part?” Steve sighed, but a faint smile tugged at his lips. “Yeah. You looked so scared and embarrassed. I just wanted to see you smile. So I made a dumb joke… and ended up getting you hurt instead.”

Bambi—he needed to find out the guy’s name, Steve reminded himself—hummed softly, his lips quirking into a teasing smile. “So, just to be clear: You’re not a cop, and he—” he gestured toward Bear, still sitting like this was all a casual hangout in the park—��is not a drug detection dog?”

Steve let out a rueful laugh, one hand rubbing the back of his neck as warmth crept up his cheeks. “Nope. Not a cop. Not a drug detection dog. Just a pediatric nurse with a terrible sense of humor and a dog who’s usually better behaved.”

Eddie’s tentative smile grew into something full and radiant, so dazzling that Steve momentarily lost track of everything else. It was the kind of smile that made you think cheesy things, like comparing it to the sunrise—hopeful and brilliant, warming something deep in Steve’s chest.

“What’s your name?” Steve asked, shaking himself back to reality. “I keep calling you Bambi in my head, and I’m pretty sure that’s not it.”

That did it. Eddie burst into surprised laughter, his head tipping back as his eyes crinkled at the corners, the sound bright and unrestrained. It sent a wave of smug satisfaction through Steve, though it didn’t last long. The laughter soon faded into a low groan, Eddie wincing as the movement jostled whatever injury he’d sustained.

“Shit, sorry,” Steve blurted, words tumbling out as his concern surged. “Are you okay? God, I didn’t mean—”

Eddie’s hand found Steve’s again, squeezing it firmly. “Shhh,” he soothed, his voice low and warm. “Hey, it’s okay, sweetheart. I mean, your sense of humor might be the death of me, but what a way to go, huh?”

Steve barked a startled laugh at that, though it quickly gave way to a more serious tone. “I’d really prefer you don’t die on me,” he said, pausing deliberately for the guy to fill in the gap.

“Eddie,” came the soft reply.

Steve smiled, relief and something else he couldn’t quite name washing over him. “I’d rather you don’t die on me, Eddie.”

They were both smiling at each other, the night cold and silent around them, as if the world had paused just for this moment. And then, as if the universe wanted to underscore how surreal and cinematic everything felt, it started to snow.

Big, soft flakes drifted down, landing on Eddie’s long eyelashes and melting on his nose and cheeks. Eddie’s smile widened, his expression pure delight as he laughed softly, tilting his face up to the sky. Without hesitation, he stuck out his tongue to catch a few flakes, his laughter bubbling up again at the absurdity of it.

In that instant, Steve felt very much like one of those snowflakes—falling, utterly and irrevocably.

“So, Nurse—” Eddie’s voice broke through the quiet, pulling Steve from his rose-tinted thoughts.

“Huh?” Steve blinked, realizing he’d been staring.

Eddie grinned, a hint of mischief lighting his face. “I was being sneaky, trying to find out your name,” he explained, “while also asking for a little help here. As much as I’m enjoying the view, it’s getting kind of cold down here.” He shifted slightly, wincing before adding with a smirk, “I thought I’d be clever and ask Nurse Prince Charming—that’s what I’ve been calling you in my head since we cleared up the Charon situation—to help his patient off the ground.”

Steve threw his head back and laughed, the sound warm and unrestrained. He couldn’t help but feel charmed by Eddie’s offbeat but endearing mannerisms. In all his life, he couldn’t remember meeting anyone quite like him—and they’d only known each other for a few minutes.

“It’s Steve,” he said finally, his smile lingering. “And I’d prefer to check you out real quick—” he paused, realizing how that sounded, and tried to recover, “—to make sure you didn’t hurt yourself too badly before helping you up. That okay?”

Eddie’s grin turned sly. “Oh, darling, you can check me out as much as you want,” he replied, tongue-in-cheek.

Heat flooded Steve’s cheeks at the innuendo, even as he tried to stay professional. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he muttered, though he couldn’t deny that having an excuse to touch Eddie wasn’t exactly the worst thing in the world.

“I think it’s safe to say it’s nothing life-threatening if you can joke around like that,” Steve said, shaking his head but unable to hide his fond smile.

Eddie snorted—a sound that shouldn’t have been cute but somehow was—while Steve carefully began to palpate his ribs.

“My uncle always said my last words would be a joke,” Eddie mused, wincing slightly as Steve pressed on a tender spot. “Probably after my big mouth got me into trouble.”

Steve chuckled softly, trying to keep the mood light as he continued his examination. “Well, I’m not letting you test that theory tonight, so sit tight.”

Eddie’s ribs were bruised, and he’d probably be sore for a few days, but thankfully, there was no serious injury. Steve helped him up carefully, Bear trailing close, unusually subdued but steadfast. The dog stuck by their sides as Steve walked Eddie around the van to its rear. Following Eddie’s quiet instructions, Steve opened the door and helped him settle inside.

The interior was cramped but functional. A mattress with a thick sleeping bag was tucked in the back, surrounded by scattered clothes, empty bottles, a bong, a pizza box, and an acoustic guitar propped against the passenger seat. The van had the unmistakable feel of a makeshift home, and Steve’s heart sank.

Eddie caught him staring, and a nervous laugh bubbled out as he rushed to explain. “It’s not what it looks like... God, I can’t believe I just said that. Jeez—” He cut himself off with a sharp breath, grimacing from the strain. After a moment, he added, quieter, “I know it looks bad, okay? But it’s just for a few days. Until I get back on my feet. It’s fine. Just a hiccup.”

The words were defensive, but the shame lurking beneath them hit Steve like a punch to the gut. Eddie was trying to downplay it, but the tightness in his voice gave him away. Steve wanted to say something, anything, but before he could, Bear whined softly, breaking the silence. The big dog nudged Eddie’s thigh with his muzzle, his soulful brown eyes a perfect mirror of Eddie’s own.

Eddie, who’d been so terrified of Bear earlier, now reached out instinctively, stroking the thick fur of his head and neck. His fingers found the sweet spot behind Bear’s ears, and the dog leaned into the touch, letting out a contented huff.

“You were planning to sleep here tonight?” Steve asked softly, the question heavy with concern.

Eddie didn’t look up. He just nodded, his hand still moving absently through Bear’s fur.

Steve cursed silently. The thought of Eddie spending the night in this van, in freezing temperatures, sent a chill down his spine. Even if he kept the engine running, the risks—carbon monoxide poisoning, frostbite, worse—were too high. Steve couldn’t stomach the idea.

“Come home with us,” he said, the words tumbling out before the thought had fully formed. He just knew he couldn’t leave Eddie here.

“What?” Eddie blinked, his hand pausing mid-stroke. Bear, displeased by the interruption, let out a soft, insistent whuff and nudged Eddie’s hand again.

Steve forced a smile, trying to sound casual. “Bear and I both want you to come home with us. I can bandage your ribs properly, and you can keep petting Bear. Clearly, he’s touch-starved and desperately needs some affection.”

Once again, Steve was not projecting. Okay?

Eddie raised an eyebrow, scanning his face carefully. "Oh, so Bear needs some affection, huh?”

Steve rolled his eyes, his cheeks heating. “Look, are you coming or not? Because I’m not leaving until you agree, and I’ll have you know Bear can be very persuasive.”

At that, Bear whuffed again, his tail thumping lightly against the van floor, as if to second Steve’s statement.

Eddie’s lips twitched, and for a moment, Steve thought he might actually laugh. “You’re not giving me much of a choice, are you?”

“Not really,” Steve admitted, his tone softening. “But seriously, Eddie. Let us take care of you. Just for tonight.”

Eddie hesitated, his gaze dropping to Bear, who was still gazing up at him with unrelenting devotion. Finally, he sighed, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Fine. But only because your dog’s giving me the eyes.”

Steve grinned, relief flooding through him. “Smart choice. Bear’s impossible to say no to.”

Bear, as if understanding, let out a low, approving bark.

As Eddie took the hand Steve offered, his fingers cold but steady, Steve felt a warmth spread through him that had nothing to do with the touch itself. It was the kind of warmth that came with hope—the quiet, surprising hope that maybe neither of them would have to spend Christmas alone this year.

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Floyd Leech - Room Relaxation Voice Lines

Don't know how I'll feel the day of, but... Right now, I'm super lookin' forward to my birthday tomorrow!

Summon: You're givin' me a present this early in the morning? Nice, that's usin' your noggin. Now, let me just take a peek inside...

Groovification: Nothin' like gettin' a pair of shoes into tip-top shape. Somehow they end up feelin' like they fit better, too.

Home: What should I do today～?

Swap Looks: Ahah, that's some crazy bedhead!

Home Transition 1: I wonder how old these snacks are. Sometimes I end up not interested in 'em after buyin' 'em, so they pile up before I realize.

Home Transition 2: Seabream-kun said he'd take some rad pics of me for my birthday. Wonder how they'll turn out?

Home Transition 3: My pops said to tell him one thing I want for my birthday. He said it could be anything I want, but there's no way I can pick something out ahead of time.

Home Transition - Login: What do I do on my birthdays? Sometimes I'll throw a huge party with a buncha people, sometimes I'll just spend it alone in my room... Guess it depends on my mood at the time.

Home Transition - Groovy: I'm gettin' a present from that Sea Slug-senpai, y'know... There's no way it'll not be a hoot!

Home Tap 1: When I'm in my room, at least, I wanna wear more comfy clothes～ But even then, I'd rather be stark naked than wear anything lame, though.

Home Tap 2: I asked Sea Lion-senpai for a present, and he just said to take some sand from Savanaclaw and leave. No thanks～

Home Tap 3: It's not the end of the world to listen to Jade rabble on and on about the mountains sometimes. Like, whenever I'm wide awake, it helps put me to sleep like that.

Home Tap 4: Jellyfish-chan was tellin' me about some birthday tradition they got in Briar Valley. Kinda cool hearin' about something that's completely different than what we do back home.

Home Tap 5: What's up, Shrimpy-chan, you got a gift for me? Eh, I already got it? Mmmmmmmm......... Nope, I don't remember at all.

Home Tap - Groovy: If I just put everything in it's proper place, my room'll be easier to keep clean? Ehhhhh, but that ain't fun at all.

Duo: [FLOYD]: Sea Slug-senpai, you givin' me a gift? [MALLEUS]: If that is what you desire, Leech.

Birthday Login Message: Eh, you brought me a birthday gift? Shrimpy-chan, you're the best! Wish others'd take a page outta your book～ Those guys in the Basketball Club are the worst. I was just checkin' with them, making sure they didn't forget my birthday, and you know what Sea Snake-kun said? He said that there's no way he'd forget a day that'd end up being more trouble than it's worth for him if he did. That sent Crab-chan into a fit of laughs, too. Oh yeahhh, come to think of it, I still haven't gotten my gifts from 'em yet. Think I'll start if off by heading off to Crab-chan's place first.

Requested by @thelonepearl and @sakurakudo.

[slimybeth69]

"i'll be here."

rating: explicit- for drinking and joel's dirty thoughts. This is pure fluff NO SMUT and it's probably kinda corny but I DON'T CARE.

summary: Joel wants to make sure your New Years Eve isn't lonely.

tags: jackson!joel, Joel's POV, no use of y/n, no physical description (just an outfit) fluff, so much fluff, pining, age gap, him being handsome and perfect, mentions of food, drinking, being intoxicated so maybe dub-con (but not really)

w/c: ~3.6k

a/n: the holiday was hard as hell this year and it really didn't feel like christmas at all, so i wrote this for myself because i was sad. i hope any of you all that needed Joel to come and sing you songs and play gui-tar find some comfort in this.

thanks for @creepycorbeaux for reading this over. thanks to @thelastofgala for those beautiful gifs and thanks to @saradika-graphics for the dividers.

Joel wasn’t exactly sure what he was doing walking to your house with a bottle of whiskey in one hand, and his guitar in the other, but he couldn’t stop thinking about what you had said last night on patrol. 

“Whaddya end up doin’ f’Christmas?” 

The face you make when you look over at him almost makes Joel smirk for a split second. The way your nose scrunches and the corners of your mouth turn down slightly. Like you’re confused and upset with him ,and all he did was ask you a simple question.

Then you respond, “Whachya mean?” 

Joel doesn’t know how to answer that because… what do you mean? Your eyes are still squinted— like there is some sort of distrust in your soul. Like Joel is playing a joke on you right now.

“Uh, well… Ellie and I went to Tommy and Maria’s...” Joel is uncomfortable suddenly; he forgets that not everyone is as lucky as he is to have family here in Jackson. He doesn’t know you nearly well enough, so now he feels like an ass. He shouldn’t be asking you anything like that.

Or anything at all not pertaining to patrol. 

You don’t say anything for a while, you just hold onto the strap of your rifle over your shoulder, and then adjust your grasp on the reins with your other hand. “I just stayed home,” you answer him quietly, almost like you don’t really want him to hear you. “Made myself a nice dinner, read a book and went to bed.” 

That ‘put your foot in your mouth’ feeling creeps into Joel’s stomach and he wants to ask if you’d like to give him a nice rocket to his left jaw. He doesn’t stay quiet for too long, he doesn’t want you sitting in this awkward smog he’s created. “That doesn’t sound t’bad, honestly. Whaddya make?” 

Joel watches you out of the corner of his eye as you once again adjust the reins in your hand, waiting for you to either respond to his question or tell him to shut the fuck up. 

He wishes you would tell him to screw off because he never tries to make small talk, and this is why! He always regrets it!

“Just a venison roast with veggies from the greenhouse.” You finally tell him with a little more life in your voice this time, like you were actually proud of what you cooked yourself. “What did you and Ellie do at Tommy and Maria’s?” 

“Had a few drinks, ate some food. Nothin’ crazy.”

Joel didn’t have the heart to tell you that Tommy and him spent most of the day drinking and reminiscing, laughing about being young, stupid kids. Or that Ellie and Maria baked all day, listening to Christmas music someone had found a while ago. He didn’t wanna subject you to all that, knowing now you were home alone.

Since that night on patrol, Joel can’t get the image of you sitting at home on a holiday all by yourself. 

Probably being sad. 

There isn’t any particular reason why he feels so compelled to come knock on your door, there are plenty of other lonely souls that spend every holiday with no one else around. 

There was just a pull. Something inside of him that said go go go. 

Go to her.

He doesn’t really even know what he’s going to say to you if you decide to open the door for him. Hell, he’s not sure you’re even going to let him in! You’ve only ever gone on two patrols together. Y’all never really talk outside of that, but that’s mostly because he doesn’t see you around.

Not like he’s looking for you, or anything. 

When he knocks, it’s like his heart might hammer right out of his chest. Why is he so nervous? He’s just here to offer you a couple drinks so you don’t have to ring in the new year all alone. 

Ellie was with Dina and the rest of her friends, Tommy and Maria wanted to call it an early night because of the baby, and so Joel had two options: the bar, or sitting at home alone. 

It’s not that Joel didn’t like being alone. He had been alone since Tess, and that was still something he didn’t like to think about too much.

Too much loss for not enough of — whatever they had been. Losing her had almost been the final nail in the coffin, and if it hadn’t been for Ellie -

Don’t think about it.

Now Joel finds himself on your front porch, holding the screen door open with his large frame, and knocking lightly with the ass end of the bottle of whiskey.

From inside he can hear you moving around. His breath hitches in his throat when you finally open up for him. Joel watches your eyes scan him very quickly, taking in the picture in front of you. Your eyes go wide for a second like you don’t understand why he’s here.

Joel Miller on your front porch with a bottle of whiskey and his guitar. 

“Whaddya doin’ here?” 

Joel holds the bottle up for you to inspect closer as you wrap your arms around yourself like you’re trying to hide from him. 

Joel’s never seen you without your winter jacket, hat and gloves. Right now in your house, you have on a blue sweater, a pair of tight elastic tights that Joel wishes he could see you in more often, and the warmest looking socks he has ever seen.

His eyes scan the length of your body again involuntarily. His gaze lingers on your pants once again– so tight and they hug your curves (that Joel didn’t even know you had) in all the right ways.  

“Well, I reckon I came over here hopin’ you had cooked another roast, since it sounded so damn good when you told me ‘bout it on patrol–”

Joel continues his bullshit rambles about why he came over here as you start to smirk, and take a step back so the door can swing open a little wider and he can make his way in.

“The guitar?” You ask as Joel toes off his boots so he doesn’t track snow through your house. He hands you the bottle of whiskey, shifting the guitar between his hands as he takes off his jacket. 

“Figur’d if you wanted to share any of the food you made– I could share the whiskey… maybe play a lil gui-tar for ya.”

The last time he played the guitar for anyone besides Ellie– Sarah was still alive. 

Who is this man?

There was just something about the way you said ‘I just stayed home’. Joel was thinkin’ maybe you didn’t read a book and go to bed. 

Maybe you cried a little, missing whatever you remember from home. 

Joel knows all about that, all about the sleepless nights when you just can’t turn your brain off. You can’t stop thinking about the people that are no more, about how different things are now and how you’d give anything for them to go back to the way they used to be. 

Joel has Ellie and Tommy. Who do you have?

“You’re in luck because I did cook tonight,” you’re smiling at him and he thinks this is the first time he’s ever seen you smile, too. 

So many firsts for Joel, he feels like a teenager as you lead him further into your house - which is clean and smells phenomenally good - and into the kitchen. 

Joel hadn’t expected you to actually offer him food, he didn’t know if you cooked dinners like that for yourself all the time, or only on special occasions. 

You take the guitar from him and pull out a chair at your kitchen table. For a moment he feels like his brain malfunctions and he’s not sure how to react. 

“You can sit,” You’re already in your living room. “I’m just gonna…” Then you trail off. 

When Joel peers around the corner to check on you, you’re very carefully leaning the guitar against the wall, holding your hands out to catch it in case it leans too far one way or the other.

Joel feels heat creeping up his chest and neck as he watches you, slightly bent at the waist. The tightness of your pants— 

Nope.

Once you’re satisfied that the guitar won’t fall, you turn around and smile at him, even though he’s just standing there watching you like an idiot– blushing!

Blushing?

Part of him thinks this was the worst idea he ever had. How could you be doing this to him and you’ve done absolutely nothing? 

He should go home. 

“Sit!” You urge him to take a seat at the table while you basically prance into the kitchen to start serving him a plate. Everything is still sitting on the stove in the pots you cooked in.

You explain that you already ate because you weren’t expecting company. 

Joel almost tells you not to worry about the food, but then what would he do? Play guitar for three hours? Getting drunk and talking all night seems like a terrible idea. 

What the fuck was he thinking? This was the dumbest thing he’s ever done, it really was. 

He shuts his mouth though when you set down a plate of steaming food in front of him. 

“Dig in! I have more than enough if you want a second plate.” 

The way you talk so casually, like you’ve known Joel your whole life while you walk back into the kitchen makes him jealous. 

How are you so nice? Sweet? 

You haven’t even been here for four months and this is the first time either of you have said more than ten words to each other that didn’t have to do with patrol. 

It’s the way your body moves when you walk without all your winter gear on. You sway… almost like you’re floating.

Knock it off, old man. She’s half your age. 

Joel has to squeeze his eyes shut for two seconds until he hears your feet padding back to the table. When he opens them, you’re pushing one of the glasses in his direction.

“You brought the booze, so you have to pour it.” 

The smile on your face makes Joel feel a mix of pride and guilt. 

What are you expecting of him? He can’t give you more than just tonight. He knows that, he hopes you know that too.

Joel opens the bottle and pours each of you a decent, sippable glass.He should have poured himself less. 

Probably should have poured you less.

The food tastes better than Joel’s had in years. He even finds himself asking for seconds, something he rarely does.

You’re making small talk as he eats, asking about his travels and how long he’s been in Jackson. If he likes it here, how old is his daughter.

Joel decides not to tell you that Ellie isn’t really his daughter, because biologically she isn’t, but it hasn’t felt that way in a long time.

As he eats, and you chat, Joel starts to relax a little. Your presence is calming, and he finds himself enjoying your company more than he thought he would. He pours both of you another drink, his regrets of pouring less last time completely forgotten.

The food is gone and you’ve cleared his plate. But the two of you are still sitting at the kitchen table. He’s not sure if it’s the fact that this is another first— seeing you up close like this. In the light of your kitchen Joel can really take in your features; your cheeks when you smile, and the way your eyes light up when you laugh at some dumb joke he tells.

You ask him about his life before the outbreak, and Joel hesitates before giving a very brief summary of his past. He doesn’t like talking about it all, and he avoids bringing Sarah up completely.

Not tonight. Probably not ever.

You listen attentively and ask Joel questions that show you’re actually interested in what he’s saying.

Joel continues to pour the two of your drinks each time your glasses are empty and you never tell him to stop. You suggest moving to the living room where it’s more comfortable, and Joel agrees without hesitation.

Go home. This is going to end badly.

There is a fire going in your fireplace, and Joel can’t sit down until he puts another log or two on, and he has to move some things around to get it going again.

“I can do it myself,” you say from directly behind him, sounding a little offended.

Joel doesn't even look at you when he responds, "I know you can. Just helpin'."

When he finally turns around, you quickly look away. Joel can’t help but smirk and feel that familiar in his lower belly.

Had you been staring at him?

Joel watches as you sink down into the brown leather couch, curling up with your feet underneath you. He settles beside you with just enough distance to be polite.

“What songs do ya’ know?” Your voice is soft and your words are slightly slurred. The alcohol has definitely started to affect you, but Joel doesn’t think you’re that drunk yet.

Joel looks at the clock on your wall and it reads 10:45 PM. He can do this. An hour and fifteen minutes left, then Joel can escape.

Not that he wants to. He has to or something bad is going to happen. Something he regrets. 

Something you might regret. 

But when you ask him about songs, he can’t help but smile. The alcohol is going down too easily, way too easy for both of you.

Joel clears his throat. "Whaddya wanna hear?"

You shrug, your cute blue sweater sliding off one shoulder. Joel has to fight himself to keep his eyes on your face as you mindlessly tug the sweater up. It’s like you didn’t even realize it happened. You kept your eyes on him the entire time.

"Somethin' that makes you happy."

The fact that you’re moving your feet to tuck your toes underneath Joel’s right thigh is sending electric shocks to his brain. He leans and grabs the guitar off the wall– careful to not move too much so he can keep the contact between the two of you. 

Shit. What is he getting himself into?

Joel holds the guitar, fingers tracing the old wooden curves. It's been a while since he's played at all. The strings feel ice cold under his calloused hands.

Joel strum a couple cords, “Know a few songs,” he says, clearing his throat. “Might be a lil rusty though,” he smirks at you and gives you a sideways glance. 

You smile from behind your whiskey glass and Joel feels something shift inside him. Something he hasn't felt in a long time. 

Something dangerous.

Your eyes are glittering in the firelight— different than they had looked in the artificial light of your kitchen. It casts a warm glow across your face, softening the edges that Joel has only ever seen sharp and alert on patrol.

He clears his throat once again and continues to move his fingers along the frets. The first few notes come out slightly off-key, but Joel quickly finds his rhythm. He starts with a Garth Brooks song.

Joel knows he’s not the best at the guitar and he doesn’t play it nearly as often now that Ellie is so busy with her own life. 

You don’t seem to mind, and sometimes Joel misses a chord or messes up completely because he can’t stop glancing over to watch you watching him.

He starts to sing, his voice low and gravelly. It's not a perfect voice - never was - but there's something raw and honest in the way the words tumble out.

… Blame it all on my roots, I showed up in boots And ruined your black tie affair The last one to know, the last one to show I was the last one you thought you'd see there

You shift slightly, your toes still tucked under his thigh, and Joel catches you watching his hands. Even as he continues to sing. You never take your eyes off of him. Not once.

… 'Cause I've got friends in low places Where the whiskey drowns and the beer chases my blues away And I'll be OK Yeah, I'm not big on social graces Think I'll slip on down to the oasis Oh, I've got friends in low places

Joel's voice falters for a moment when he notices the concentration of your gaze. His fingers momentarily stagger on the guitar strings, creating a clashing note that lingers in the air for a moment before he continues.

You don't seem to notice, or care. Your eyes are locked on his hands, watching how they move across the guitar with a kind of reverence that makes Joel's breath catch. 

Joel finishes the song, letting the last chord ring out softly in the quiet room. For a moment, neither of you moves. You're still watching him, your eyes heavy-lidded from the whiskey, but there's something else there too.

Joel’s eyes fall on the clock on your wall and it’s only 11.

He’s completely fucked.

Joel becomes acutely aware of how close you are.

Your toes are still tucked under his leg, and the warmth of your body seeps through the denim of his jeans. Joel swallows hard, trying to ignore the way his heart is racing.

"Another song?" you ask, your voice soft and slightly husky from the whiskey.

Joel clears his throat. "Sure," he manages, repositioning the guitar.

Joel starts strumming again, this time a slower, more mournful tune. His fingers find the familiar chords of an old country ballad, something he used to play for Sarah when she was real little. Before the weight of being a single dad started to apply pressure.

The memories threaten to overtake him, but he forces them down, focusing instead on the way the light flickers across your face. He can feel the heat of your body against his leg, the whiskey making everything feel soft and blurry around the edges. His voice is lower now, almost a whisper, like he's singing just for you.

Joel sings a couple more songs, a few at your request.

"That was really good," you say softly, your eyes meeting his. There's something in your gaze that makes Joel shiver - it’s a weakness, a longing that mirrors something deep inside himself.

When he looks at the clock again it’s 12:30.

“We completely missed new years,” Joel points to the clock and chuckles. He had completely forgotten that’s why he came over here originally. Once the music started, everything else kind of faded away. 

It was just the two of you while the rest of Jackson, and possibly the rest of the world stopped existing in that short time. 

“I was havin’ a good time,” you’re still smiling at him and now he can see how glassy they are from the whiskey. 

“Y’look like y’were havin’ a good time, darlin’.” Joel smiles and starts to stand up from the couch. It’s not until he’s standing directly in front of you realize what’s happening, Joel watches your eyes shift and change. 

Are you panicking?

“Are… were–” you cut yourself off and shake your head, waving a hand at Joel dismissively. “Nevermind. Thank you for coming over.” When you turn to look at him, your eyes are rimmed with a glossy sheen. The whites of your eyes had turned a hazy shade of red.

“S’wrong?” 

You shrug your shoulders, your sweater falling off your shoulder again. You don’t notice and twirl your whiskey glass in your hand slowly. “Nothin’. I had a good time… just sad you gotta go.” 

Joel knows he shouldn’t, but he gently replaces your sweater, his fingers lingering on the warm skin of your collarbone for a moment before he pulls away. “I’m all outta songs, sweetheart.” 

“You don’t wanna stay?”

Joel swallows hard and then cuts you off, “For what?” Joel whispers it and you snap your head up to look at him, almost as astonished as he is. Joel knows that the liquor and the way you had been looking at him all night is a recipe for disaster. 

Make me leave, please. Kick me out. Don’t ask me to stay again because I won’t be able to say no.

You finish the last of your whiskey before setting your glass down on the coffee table in front of your couch. 

“You know what.” 

“I do… but we’ve been drinkin’... ‘n I don’t want ya’ regretti–”

“What is there to regret?” you whisper. Your hand snakes into his and Joel doesn’t pull his away or nothing. “You gotta know more songs.”

Joel sits down beside you again, sighing loudly like this is a giant inconvenience to him, but a part of him knows that this isn’t going to end–

Not at all. 

Once he takes you upstairs, it’s over for the both of you. It’s like he can taste it in the air. 

“One more,” Joel nods his head at you. “Then I’m leavin’.” 

He and you both know that’s not true. 

His fingers find their holds on the neck of the guitar and he looks over at you before he strums the first note. 

You shy away from him, tucking your toes back under his thigh. Joel lifts his leg slightly so you can slip them deeper under his leg. 

There's no stronger wind than the one that blows Down a lonesome railroad line No prettier sight than looking back On a town you left behind There is nothin' that's as real As your face that's on my mind

Joel changes the lyrics just a little, and he doesn’t know if you notice, or even if you know this song. He's not ready to sing about love, not at all.

He confidently sings you the next part though.

Close your eyes I'll be here in the morning Close your eyes I'll be here for a while

hopefully y'all had a better time than I did.

love you all so so much

[comatosebunny09]

As a result of watching more dramas, humor me.

You plan to go home for the holidays to spend them with your parents. 

Your mother’s been setting you up on blind dates in hopes of eventually finding you a match. She reasons you’re not getting any younger, so it’s time you settle down and start working on a family. Her intentions are good, but you just wish she’d stop badgering you. 

You don’t necessarily live the lifestyle where you can afford to have a partner right now.

You work for Onychinus’ leader, Sylus, as an assassin. You’re at the peak of your game, so much so that you’re considered his right hand by his enemies. You also secretly harbor feelings for your boss, but you know they’re fruitless because you think a relationship, let alone with you, is the furthest thing from his mind.

Anyways, you’re drinking at one of Sylus’ bars one evening, venting to him about your mother. He always humors you when you’re not working—you bring a certain flair to his life that he admits makes his days much more entertaining.

“Why don’t I pretend to be your boyfriend, then? Just to get her off your back,” he suggests with an amused crinkle to his eyes, watching you as he sips his whiskey.

You snort incredulously. Sylus and boyfriend are never two words you would imagine fitting in the same sentence. Still, you can’t deny entertaining the idea of what it’d be like to be something…more to him. 

You brush him off as just humoring you as usual, snatching your coat from the barstool and fixing your boss with a sardonic smirk. 

“Yeah, right. See ya around, bossman.” 

Your flight home leaves first thing in the morning. As much as you would like to stick around to shoot the shit with him, you need your rest to deal with your mother come morning.

Fast forward, and you’re back in your childhood home. You feel strange, being in your cutesy, innocent bedroom like there isn’t so much invisible blood on your hands and like you haven’t long shed the sheltered skin you once wore when you were younger. 

Your parents don’t know the full extent of what you do. They know you make a generous amount of money—you’ve bought them luxurious cars and clothes and sent them on exclusive vacations. You would buy them a plot of land with a beautiful home built from the ground up if they’d let you, but your parents insist on staying where they’re familiar.

An old childhood friend’s having a get-together. Your mother insists you go—this is the perfect opportunity for you to network and possibly find a future husband. Despite your protests, she pressures you, and you begrudgingly agree. 

You stick out like a sore thumb, donned in expensive fabrics at the party. Years of being an assassin and seductress have given you the gift of gab, so you’re the life of the party. Eventually, people start inquiring about your love life. Their questions become so invasive you step out momentarily to gather yourself. Just because you’re good at flapping your gums doesn’t mean you don’t occasionally become overwhelmed.

You decide to text Sylus to help ease your anxiety. You text each other quite often, and someone peering at your relationship from the outside would assume you’re just close friends. 

[ Sylus ]: that bad?

[ You ]: yeah. they won’t stop asking when i’ll get married. 

[ You ]: it’s really pissing me off. 

[ Sylus ]: lol

[ Sylus ]: well why dont you leave?

[ You ]: because i know i’ll never hear the end of it.

[ Sylus ]: hmm.

[ Sylus ]: would you like some company then?

[ You ]: 😏😏😏 what are you gonna teleport here or something?

[ Sylus ]: look up.

On cue, you glance skyward as the telltale shadow of a crow circles the ground around you. You squint your eyes against the sun’s brilliance, making out distinct iridescent feathers circling above. “Mephisto?” you suspiciously inquire.

You look down, only to be met with a familiar swatch of scarlet and white. “Sylus?!” you shriek, jumping back and clutching your pounding heart, almost having shit yourself.

He wears that customary smirk, looking so cool with his hands stuffed in his pockets. He wears a tailored, dark suit, his blazer hanging off his shoulders, ruffled by the summery breeze. “In the flesh.”

You swallow against the stickiness of your throat, wide-eyed and feeling like you’re dreaming. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Sylus examines his nails, his tone conspiratorial. “Well, I was just passing through—”

“Like hell you were!” You aim an accusatory finger at him. “We’re, like, 1,700 miles from the N109! There’s no way you’re just ‘passing through’!”

He shrugs, feigning innocence. 

A few of your high schoolmates, summoned by the commotion, gather in the courtyard behind you. The crowd oohs and ahs, whispering as they study your tall, devastatingly handsome boss. One of the women asks who he is, admiration evident in his voice. You know that tone too well: if you don’t claim him, I will. 

You swallow your resolve, seizing the opportunity to shut everyone up. 

You sidle up to your boss with a fake smile, encircling one of his arms with both of yours, your hands wrapped around his impressive bicep. You cling to him, playing up the theatrics of a docile girlfriend. It makes you sick.

Sylus smiles down at you in your peripheral, the omniscient lift of his brow letting you know that he’s never going to let you live down what next comes from your mouth.

“This is my fiancé!” You pat his chest with a giggle pinched from your lungs, cold dread dropping into your belly. 

What the hell are you even doing?

[mini-ism]

#— HOLIDAY LIGHTS.

pairings: lighter x afab!gn!reader [MDNI]

words: 3,300

synopsis: he hated the way those cheery holiday lights made him feel so small the night you rejected him. yet, he still answers every time you call. that shred of hope will never die, especially not as it gets cold.

warnings: p in v, biting, kissing/making out, creampie, oral sex/cunnilingus, friends with benefits type relationship (can be read as reader and lighter get together after the fic), lethal amounts of pining, rejection, grinding/dry humping, nipple sucking/licking, unprotected intercourse, afab reader (gender neutral, no pronouns/feminine terms). 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

notes: crossposted to AO3. merry pissmas losers. ily!!

it was a force of habit, always a call away.

ever since his boxing days, he was a call away.

“hello?” his husky voice could be heard on your end. it was getting cold out, the season lonelier when alone.

“lighter!” you spoke happily, almost relieved he’d answered. when didn’t he answer your call? even when he was busy at the time, he managed to return the call, managed to ask you “what’s up?”

in a heartbeat, you could hear his smile through his words and tone, he filled in the blank. “you want me to come over? you know, it’s the holiday season, can’t leave you feeling lonely.”

you laughed, an involuntary, fond, and soft noise. “yeah, could you do that? it’s been a while since i’ve seen you. …maybe you could be my gift?”

he chuckled on the other end, letting a bit of a snort through, “you bet. i’ll be there soon.”

you could only manage to tidy your bedroom before he was knocking at your door, the knocks gentle but persistent. you opened the door for him, standing in his usual attire. he waved hi, making haste to immediately settle in like it was his home too. “you missed me already?”

lighter’s words carried a teasing lilt to them, “well of course i did.” you answered him honestly, perhaps even a bit shyly. he smirked, the expression not entirely smug, carrying a layer of humility.

“well, i missed you too,” he turned to you after hanging his jacket on the back of the nearest chair, outstretching his arms, “come here.”

you obliged, scoffing at his endearment, letting his arms wrap tightly around you. his hug was secure, full of warmth and strength, a level of love underneath the surface of it all. you and him were quite familiar, your bond deep and connection deeper. he had met you when he was still fighting in the ember arena, misery behind his swollen eyes and bruises littering his battered body. yet, you never took him for what he seemed to be — a ruthless man with nothing but his life to put on the line.

hadn’t it been around this time he first kissed you? when he gave you his breathless confession? he tore off his boxing gloves, nose trickling with blood as his diaphragm stuttered with each breath. lighter had taken a particularly ugly punch to the gut, every last bit of oxygen in his lungs getting beat out of him. it still hurt to breathe, and that punch was sure to leave a hideous bruise on his … washboard abs.

as the champagne-golden and multicolored christmas lights illuminated the streets above and around the city, he huffed out an honest admission. a declaration of deep love, a sparkle igniting behind his dark and tired eyes.

you could only tell him that now wasn’t right. that, as much as you loved him back, he needed to get out of here most, that there was still so much interpersonal work to be done for yourselves. his ego was terribly hurt, the beating he took insurmountable to the pain of a slight rejection. but still, you called.

the attraction was palpable, undeniable, tangible. his name was spoken on your lips like a prayer, reverent and begging for his mercy. you begged him like he wholly owned you. the ache in his ego was replaced with a strange swell of pride, the look in your gaze unmistakable as he approached you. you stared at him with those pretty, twinkling eyes, that look beckoning him for his mercy and cruelty, to treat you as his for another night.

lighter would always oblige you. sure, that pain that shattered his fragile ego mended, and yeah, the way you practically worshipped him inflated it further. he was convinced that not even time could rip you away from him, that as he became a different man with new goals and a better set of priorities, you remained in his life. he turned down everyone, a silent part of his heart naively hoping that eventually you’d throw yourself onto him like a damsel in distress. you’d profess your equally passionate love for him, and that you were ready to be his only. he’d always pick up your call.

lighter loosened his grip slightly, bringing you back to reality as a small bit of chill crept in, “it’s always nice to see you.”

you smiled, the affection in his voice oozing with sincerity. you could feel him beginning to shuffle towards your room, holding you tight as you began to backpedal. he released an arm around you to gingerly shut the door behind him, the limb stretching somewhat awkwardly as he smothered you in himself. you couldn’t complain, the man smelled incredible and he was warm as a radiator.

his hands were immediately on you again, moving upwards to cup your face. he couldn’t stop himself from smooshing your cheeks together, stifling a laugh. lighter dove in to peck your lips, mimicking them with a puckered look of his own, the sight was thoroughly amusing.

he couldn’t stop himself after one kiss, the kisses becoming progressively less silly. his hands lessened the puckered tension of your lips and cheeks. he gently caressed your face with his thumbs as his lips deepened the kiss. his lips grazed yours, every second of contact drove him further into a frenzied need. your lips on his always felt so right, so soft and gentle. the way you tasted left him craving something that was so uniquely you, that couldn’t be emulated or sought anywhere else. his tongue was granted entrance, mingling with yours in a familiar way.

lighter softly groaned, the sound coming from deep within his chest. he never got tired of feeling your tongue on his. whatever taste your lips had, your tongue was better, it was stronger. his kiss was heated and passionate, seeking that comfort that you brought his soul, your presence a healing balm. he could bask in it for as long as he lives, until his existence is a fading shred fighting the winds of time. his hands came to your waist, fiddling with the hem of your shirt, breaking the kiss to lift your shirt over your head. lighter’s breathing was ragged, eyes carrying the recognizable spark of need behind the darkly tinted lenses.

you stood in front of him, chest bare, your nipples hardening. he could never get tired of those tits, eyes immediately flicking down to look at them. his face was dusted with a soft pink color, peeling off his right glove to get a bare feel. his calloused fingers immediately came up to pinch the nipple softly, rolling it under his thumb and on the side of his index finger. the pressure was enough to make you wince in a delightful pain, drawing your lip between your teeth. his bare hand palmed the swell of your chest, groping as much boob as he could in his large hand. the sensation of your soft skin against his rough palm got him harder than he wanted to admit, you still had that effect on him after years. “…fuuuuck.”

lighter���s curse came out as more of a hiss, a quiet admission of arousal. he quickly pulled off his other glove, letting it carelessly land on your floor next to your shirt. his hands immediately roving back onto your chest, squeezing and kneading as much as he could.

your eyes were lidded, vision growing hazy and careless. you could feel him lift you up, hoisting you high enough to latch his mouth onto one of your tits. his arms were strong and tight around your body, carefully bringing you over to your bed. his mouth was unfocused and lazy, tongue lapping at the bud to stiffen it every time he felt it soften. lighter guided you down onto your sheets, laying himself above you.

lighter’s lips immediately lavished attention onto the other nipple, taking it between his teeth and sucking it with a pop. you could feel his cock hardening in his pants as he laid on you, hips rocking every few seconds. “you have no idea how much i love doing this…” he muttered between breaths.

lighter trailed kisses from your sternum to your clavicle and up your neck. you could feel his breath tickle your ear and his lips drag along your pulse point. his hands travelled down your abdomen, to your lower waist, trailing his tongue down your carotid slowly. lighter savored the whimper you let out for him. “that’s right, baby, let me hear you.”

lighter pressed a sloppy kiss to the junction of your collarbone and neck, tongue licking along the light bite marks he left on your skin to tease you. his fingers pressed into your sides harder, grinding his hips and cock against the flesh of your thigh beneath him.

his fingers hooked into the waistband of your pants, pulling them off with your underwear. lighter parted your thighs with a particularly large and muscular thigh of his own. you carded your fingers through his hair with a sigh, giving him a gentle look. lighter returned it with a smile, letting his lips kiss their way down your body. he replaced his thigh with his face, nuzzling the inside of your thigh as he laid prone on your bee. he pressed his erection into the sheets, grunting as the friction provided him with growing arousal disguised as relief. lighter nipped the inside of your thigh playfully, giving the quivering skin a kiss as a mock apology.

as he dove in, tongue first, he held eye contact with you. he allowed you to remove the sunglasses covering his eyes, the sight of you bearable to the rest of the world. his tongue flicked at your clit, sucking and kissing the sensitive slit between your legs. your fingers worked in his hair, his arms snaking around your thighs to press you closer to his mouth. he shut his eyes, rolling his hips against the soft sheets beneath him.

you had always been more than bearable in his heart, in his eyes. you were probably the only person rooting for him in an arena full of people cheering on his downfall. it had all become too much, the sights, the sounds, the smells. the sunglasses became his weird coping mechanism, serving more than their original purpose. he could only handle parting with them when he was with you, you were the only person that didn’t look at him harshly. you didn’t tell him to fight for you, you’d be the only person to clean his wounds and wash all the dreaded blood out of his hair.

that kiss he gave you during his confession was the only gift he could give you during the season. he was still flat broke, struggling to keep it together. he wasn’t living his life, he was watching it through those pretty green eyes of his. you were the only one to cut through the zombie-like haze of his mundane life. he had nothing material to provide you with, though his soul screamed at him to fight more matches, scrape up enough money doing odd jobs. yet, the way you looked at him had him feeling like all you wanted was him. although you kissed him back that night, he still couldn’t shake the looming doubt clouding his judgement. those holiday lights were hurting his eyes.

it had him filled with a strange sense of jealousy, envy. they were bright and admired, even through all the years of wear and harsh weather. people loved those lights, they would go out just to see them. they would seek them out, they were the substance of holiday nostalgia, something to decorate with and gawk at. he felt small and incomparable to the barrage of festive lights and cheer that night. it was stupid, he knew, but it was real.

a sharp tug on his hair pulled him out of his thoughts. you were breathing heavily, body shaking with pleasure as he mindlessly ate you out. his tongue was coated with a thick sheen of your cum, pussy quivering as you trembled. he didn’t need to use his fingers to get you to come this time, you must have really missed him. he gave your cunt another thorough lick, a long stripe to collect as much cum as he could on his tongue. it left you in agonizing pleasure, the sensation causing you to buck your hips and sob.

he loved the way you tasted. your skin, your lips, your tongue, even your pussy. he could eat it for days, he would if you’d let him. “can’t get enough.” he swallowed down the rest of your cum on his taste buds, the tangy taste lingering.

he had neglected his own body, too. he could feel the sticky pre-cum pooling in his boxers, cock twitching. his dick was begging him for attention, to at least grind on something, to let him bury himself inside you without a thought. his eyes were glassy, his stare magnetic and alluring. lighter’s hair was tousled and messy, his green eyes shining with arousal. it had you wishing he didn’t hide those pretty eyes away from the world, remembering that you’re lucky he still has them, even after all those black eyes and that horrible injury he sustained years ago.

he rose, settling himself differently between your thighs. your body was trembling, but your eyes conveyed full trust in him. you watched as he lifted off his own skin-tight undershirt, the scars along his body speckling his skin. the texture was different from his much softer skin, each with its own unique story. had he listened to you, maybe he wouldn’t have half of them. you still diligently kissed each one when you could, caressing his chest lovingly. his scars were never something he was ashamed of, just a reminder of reality, a reminder that the world isn't what it seems. you say they make him look sexy, so that isn’t half bad either.

the dog-tags around his neck jingled as he unbuckled his belt, throwing it aside with the rest of the clothes on the floor. he couldn’t be reminded to care, palming the prominent bulge in his pants instead. his face was red with lust, sweat dripping from his chest and beading around his hairline, soaking into his soft locks. lighter deftly unzipped his fly, reaching down into his boxers with a sultry drag of his fingers. he traced them down his lower abs, lower, lower…

you could see the outline of his hand stroking his cock through the fabric of his boxers, eventually freeing his dick from its confines. his size never failed to take your breath away, lighter still had to break you in each time. years of fucking, yet you could never get fully used to his cock. he stroked it a few times with a heavy sigh, a noise he reserved for his time with you. “nobody one could get me hard like you,” he mused, “i don’t think i can get hard thinking about anyone that isn’t you at this point. you have no idea what you’ve done to me.”

fuck, if that didn’t turn you on… you moaned, squirming and writhing in arousal, just from his honest thoughts. “lighter, take me. i don’t want anyone else’s dick, just yours.” your voice was strained, laden with burning hot need. you could feel the coil in your gut tighten with every one of his grunts. his voice was so sexy and deep, so smooth and soothing, soft when he wanted it to be.

“i thought you’d never ask,” lighter teased, collecting your wetness at the head of his cock, pushing in slightly with just the tip. you let out a whine, the sound throaty. you looked to him, who was already looking down at you with a loving smile. he pulled back out, the tip of his cock barely slid inside you. lighter’s hand came up to stabilize your leg at the hamstrings, the other aiding his cock inside with practiced ease. he winced in deep pleasure as your pussy graciously accepted his length, you were much wetter than usual too.

he couldn’t help but throw his head back after your cunt took the fattest part of his cock, burying himself to the base, his shaft coated in your wetness. “fuck, you want all of this?”

you gasped as he rocked his hips further into yours, the head of his cock hitting your cervix. you grit your teeth, jaw held tight as he pulled out slowly, dragging his hips out, before slamming back in. he took note of the lewd expression you made, jaw loosening as he fucked back into you, each thrust faster than the last, the pause in between shortening. you looked so hot like that, taking his dick just as you should. it’s got him realizing his love for you has grown even more over the years. it felt less like a trauma bond, blossoming into a deep and profound appreciation, an attraction that his brain can’t handle processing without short-circuiting a little bit. lighter’s expression mirrored yours, his face flushed, hair sticking to his face as he drew his bottom lip between his teeth and held it.

he had gradually increased his pace, the sound of skin against skin gradually getting louder. your bed started to rock against the wall, his hands grabbing the undersides of your thighs tightly. he didn’t dare to look away from you, from your eyes. your pussy was already an eyeful, getting all wet and tight like that, but fuck, the faces you made as you got close made him even harder. hard enough to dick you down into your mattress.

lighter hadn’t silenced you at all, matching your moans with fervor. his hips slammed against yours, groaning and huffing louder. his muscles were wound with the same tightness and tension as yours, your pussy getting unbearably tight with every shaky exhale. “come on, that’s it, lemme hear you. let me feel you come on me, i want you to cum on my dick. can you do that? fuck, fuck…”

his brows furrowed in concentration, his rhythmically rocking into you with a brutal force. the bed frame was squeaking and moving underneath you both, masked by the shared sounds of pleasure and sex. the intense pressure in your gut was rearing its head, coming to a climax, little babbles falling from your lips. “lighter, gonna— i’ll, fuck, ohh… fuck, fuck, lighter! lighter!”

your hips frantically pushed against his, beckoning him deeper, harder. with a particularly loud mewl, your back arched off the bed, wailing in pleasure as your climax washed over every tense muscle in your body. lighter didn’t stop, the pace maintained and ruthless as he chased his own orgasm. “yeah? yeah, just like that, you feel too fuckin’ good. think i’m gonna cum too.” a faint jingle could be heard in the heat of passion, the silver colored dog-tags dangling off his neck with each thrust. “take care of this pussy every time you want me, oh, fuck—”

his final words were strained with pleasure, his own body twitching as his balls drew up tight. he rutted his hips a few times in and out, fucking his cum into you with uncharacteristically deep and desperate moans. his hands shook, palms clammy and body quivering with the after effects of sex.

lighter leaned down to give you a tentative kiss, one akin to the first gift he ever gave you. it was slow, explorative, devoted. he leaned into your neck, nibbling on your ear affectionately, “how is that for a gift?”

“…good enough for me to reconsider our relationship.”

[cece693]

Oh can I request a Male reader x Kol, Elijah, and Klaus Mikaelson where the Mikaelson's are highly protective of M reader

Mikaelsons Whore

pairing: kol, klaus, and elijah mikaelson tags: vulgar language, elena being the 'righteous' queen, basically Elena being her whinny self, human male reader, the mikaelson family loves you

Elena was the golden child—the popular girl and Mystic Falls’ most recognized individual. It was all too easy for you to slip into the background and just be labeled as “the other Gilbert.” Your younger brother Jeremy understood how that felt; he maintained a better relationship with you than Elena ever did. Still, even Jeremy couldn’t begin to fathom what drew you to side with the Mikaelsons—or how you managed to fall in love with not one, but three of the brothers, each dangerous in their own way. Ironically, the most feared and powerful family in history had shown you more warmth than anyone else in town. Rebekah, in particular, became the sister figure you had always needed and never truly found in Elena.

When word of your involvement with the Mikaelsons spread through Mystic Falls, the backlash was swift and merciless. Elena made her disapproval painfully clear by storming into your bedroom, practically foaming at the mouth, and demanding to know why you had betrayed her—as though your love life was hers to dictate. The Salvatore brothers, blinded by loyalty to your sister, declared that the Originals must have compelled you, never even pausing to consider that you might be spending time with them of your own free will.

Bonnie’s disapproval came as no shock—she was Elena’s best friend, after all—but Caroline’s reaction stung the most. You had always admired her warmth and optimism, so hearing her spew the word whore cut more deeply than you ever expected. Still, you knew where her bitterness stemmed from: she craved love, and watching yet another potential romance slip through her fingers had turned her despair into anger.

When your lovers—Klaus, Elijah, and Kol—heard about the way the town was talking, their reactions weren’t pretty. Klaus’s protective streak flared; you could feel the rage rolling off of him in waves as he threatened to make everyone in Mystic Falls pay for the insults. Elijah, always calm and composed, simmered with a cold fury that was somehow even more terrifying. And Kol, mischievous and volatile at the best of times, seemed eager to teach your tormentors a lesson about mocking his beloved.

But even if your family and friends had turned against you and spewed hatred, you refused to let your lovers make a scene. You understood their position, but at the end of the day, you naively believed that Elena and your friends would come around and be happy for you. This naivety was a mistake. "I'll be back soon," you murmured, smiling up at Klaus, who was visibly upset about the whole situation. He had proposed that he or one of his brothers accompany you to meet with Elena, but upon your insistence, they had reluctantly agreed to let you handle things alone.

"I'll be just a call away," Klaus conceded, his voice stern, leaving no room for negotiation on that point.

As you turned to leave, Klaus stepped forward and gently lifted your chin, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. Finding none, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead—a gesture that spoke volumes of his love and concern. "Be careful," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the swell of emotions.

With one last reassuring nod, you left the safety of the Mikaelson home and headed towards the Mystic Grill. Upon your arrival, Elena greeted you with a serene smile. "I'm glad you came," she said, guiding you to a booth tucked away in the corner. The atmosphere was casual, the familiar buzz of the Grill around you almost comforting. She ordered drinks, and when yours arrived, you didn't think twice before taking a sip, trusting that your sister truly wanted to make amends.

However, as the evening progressed, you began to feel unusually drowsy and disoriented. The lights of the bar grew bothersome, and just as you tried to ask Elena to call Klaus, darkness enveloped you. When you regained consciousness, you found yourself in a dimly lit room, hands and feet bound. The Salvatore brothers and Bonnie were there, their expressions a mix of stern determination and misguided hope.

"We're going to fix this," Damon declared, his tone brooking no argument as he glanced at Bonnie.

Bonnie, her face pinched in concentration, approached with a collection of herbs and crystals. "I'm sorry. This will hurt, but it's for your own good."

Your eyes darted from person to person, hoping that your visible fright might make them reconsider their decision, but no one stepped forward. Elena stood beside Bonnie, murmuring something about getting her brother back, but then pain engulfed you. Thrashing in the chair, the ropes digging into your wrists, you let out screams of agony. You didn't know how much time passed as you screamed, but it was evident you were under no spell. "Klaus! Elijah! Kol!" you began to scream, hoping they would save you from this torment, but relief was slow to come, and you fell unconscious once again.

When you woke again, the surroundings were markedly different from the harsh, dimly lit room of your ordeal. The plush comfort of a familiar bed enveloped you, the soft linens smelling faintly of lavender and sage—an aroma that always soothed your nerves. The opulent room bathed in the gentle light of late afternoon told you that you were back at the Mikaelson mansion. As your eyes adjusted, you saw Klaus, Elijah, and Kol surrounding your bed, their faces etched with concern but visibly relieved to see you awake.

Kol was the first to notice your eyes fluttering open. "He's awake," he announced softly, his usual mischievous tone subdued.

Elijah, ever the composed one, approached with a glass of water, his movements graceful and careful. "How do you feel?" he asked gently as he helped you sit up to sip the water, his hand supporting your back.

Klaus, who had been standing by the window watching you with an intense gaze, came over and sat on the edge of the bed. His hand found yours, squeezing it reassuringly. "You're safe now, back home with us," he murmured, the relief palpable in his voice.

You looked between them, trying to piece together what had happened after your memory cut off. "What…what happened after I passed out?" you asked, your voice hoarse.

The brothers exchanged glances, a silent conversation passing between them. It was Klaus who spoke, choosing his words with care. "You were in a bad state when we found you. We made sure no one could harm you again," he explained vaguely, not delving into the specifics of their retribution.

Elijah added, "Our priority is your recovery. You've been through a tremendous ordeal." He gently adjusted the bandages on your wrist where the ropes had left marks.

Kol’s expression darkened with the memory of your pain. "Let’s just say they won’t be bothering you—or anyone else—ever again," he added, though his tone was nonchalant, trying to shield you from the violent truths.

You sensed there was more they weren’t telling you, but the exhaustion pulling at your limbs and the comfort of being surrounded by your protectors allowed you to set aside these thoughts for now. Gratitude filled your chest as you looked at each of them, their presence a tangible reminder of their commitment to you. "Thank you," you whispered, feeling overwhelmed and a bit adrift. "For coming for me."

"Always," Klaus responded firmly, his thumb brushing over your hand. "We will always come for you."

[2amriize]

.ᐟ RIIZE reaction: going home with them for holidays ༉‧₊˚.

req: Hiiii love your work🩷🫧 I have a question is it possible for you to do (reader) coming home with RIIZE for the holidays like a reverse of your last post ?if not it’s okay

pairing: bf!riize x reader — masterlist

⭑.ᐟ shotaro

It was the first time you were going to meet Shotaro's family since you started dating, and you were going to spend an entire week with them. You couldn’t deny that you were pretty nervous, and Shotaro was well aware of it. Even though he had reassured you countless times that everything would be fine, you clung to him the moment you arrived. Still, his family was incredibly welcoming and showed great interest in getting to know you, asking lots of questions and making every effort to make you feel comfortable. By the end of the vacation, you felt like they were your second family. "When can we go back?"

⭑.ᐟ eunseok

You had only met Eunseok's family a couple of times before, but you adored the way they treated you, especially spending time with his younger brother. That’s why, when they invited you to spend the holidays with them, you couldn’t have been more excited. You loved hanging out with his mom and brother, you even went out for meals with them and explored the city together. Noticing how much attention you were giving them, Eunseok couldn’t help but hug you when you were alone in his room and tease you. "It seems like you’re more in love with my family than with me…"

⭑.ᐟ sungchan

Every Christmas, Sungchan and his family spent a week in a snowy cabin. He had always talked about how much fun it was, so you were naturally curious. When you received the invitation, you accepted without hesitation, not realizing you had no idea how to ski. You were amazed by how skilled Sungchan was. Both he and his family did their best to teach you, though you never quite got the hang of it. Despite that, you had an amazing time, bonding with Sungchan’s family and making unforgettable memories.

⭑.ᐟ wonbin

You were quite nervous about meeting Wonbin’s family, wanting to make a great first impression. Everything seemed to be going well until, while helping Wonbin and his dad prepare dinner, you accidentally dropped a plate, leaving you mortified. Even though everyone assured you it was no big deal, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. During dinner on the first night, they went out of their way to make you feel comfortable. Over the next few days, they included you in all their plans. In the end, Wonbin told you how much his family liked you, though you still couldn’t forget the broken plate incident.

⭑.ᐟ seunghan

When Seunghan invited you to spend Christmas at his home, you didn’t hesitate to say yes. Even though you spent almost every day together, this was your first vacation as a couple, and both of you were thrilled. You loved spending time with his family, but what you enjoyed the most was simply being with him. To your surprise, it snowed one day, and you all went out to build a snowman and have a snowball fight. It was a holiday you would always cherish.

⭑.ᐟ sohee

Sohee had often told you about his family’s holiday traditions, so you were curious to experience them in person. His family welcomed you as if you were one of their own, and every evening, you watched a movie together and played board games after dinner. You loved seeing Sohee so happy, yet shy when introducing you to his family. On the final night, the two of you cuddled by the fireplace, reminiscing about how much fun you had.

⭑.ᐟ anton

Anton was thrilled that you were finally going to meet his family and equally excited to take you to his childhood home. There were so many things he wanted to show you. Spending time with him and seeing his excitement as he gave you a tour of his neighborhood brought you so much joy. Your favorite part was visiting his room and listening to his mom share stories and show you childhood photos of Anton, your ultimate weakness, though it embarrassed him a little. By the end of the trip, you and his mom had agreed to stay in touch.

masterlist // taglist: @regularsuh @gacktsa @totheseok @kkumistars @taroddori @enhacolor @ladylilith @electric-hearts @astrobymarwa @layluv123 @sunflowers1610 @nctrawberries @synkjellies @ramyeonzprincess @yuzuksi

[the-ace-with-spades]

Has anyone written a Christmas Carol AU with Rooster as the Scrooge?

Like, you know, Rooster getting calls and texts from various people (Mav, Ice...) on Christmas Eve and ignoring it all to go to a bar instead, telling Nat to go screw herself when she offers, again, that he could spend Christmas with her and Javy -- and Jake, his ex, by extend, who also doesn't have any family to spend it with, but not by choice like Bradley but because he got disowned a long time ago.

Bradley gets drunk off his ass and ends up getting kicked out and falls asleep somewhere in the snow on the way back to his home.

Then he gets visited by the Ghost of Christmas Past and he is shown flashes from back when Carole was alive and cooked proper Christmas dinner with Mav, or back from when he was sixteen and had a very messy/half-assed but domestic Christmas with Mav, who came back from deployment the day before, and Ice, who never had to organise a Christmas dinner before, or back when he and Jake got stuck on base in Japan on a training assignment and spent the whole day in bed, eating Christmas KFC and doing other things.

And then Christmas Present takes over and he is shown the little Christmas dinner Nat organised with Javy and Jake and how Nat is pissed with him and Jake talks about how he was going to use the occasion and have an honest talk with Bradley about their break-up for the last time and how Bradley not showing up seems to him like a sign to give up and move on. And then he sees Mav and Ice with Slider's family at the Christmas dinner, with a seat with an empty plate and unused cutlery left for Bradley, just in case he shows up, and he sees Mav get up and step outside and call Bradley and get one ring and then going straight to voicemail because Bradley blocked him sometime mid-day when he got fed-up. Ice is wearing a warm thick jumper and a scarf indoors.

And finally, the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come gives him a kick and goes in a couple years down the line to show him a sad-looking depressed Mav with zero Christmas decorations around him, sitting alone in a dark living room with a bottle of whiskey and an urn on the unlit fireplace. Then it goes even a few more years later to show pregnant Nat ranting about Bradley preferring to swap duties with someone instead of coming to their Christmas party, just as Jake, looking a few years older, rings the doorbell with some guy that just rattles Bradley's spidey senses and who holds Jake a little bit too tight at the waist when he tries to go greet Javy with a hug. And then he sees himself, tired, flying some stupid Christmas flyover formation when his plane malfunctions and he proceeds to burn alive when he hesitates to open the canopy for too long and the engine explodes with him still sitting a few meters away from it.

He comes back to it and it's once again a Christmas Eve morning. He doesn't answer the texts because he doesn't know what to write back in reply, but he calls Nat and tells her he's going to be there. Instead of going to the bar, he goes to the mall and buys some last-minute Christmas presents for everyone, with a slightly more fancy and/or more meaningful present for Jake.

He goes to the Christmas dinner and he and Nat talk and he apologizes for the way he's been treating her offers so far and he and Jake have a little honest conversation when Jake, a little buzzed on the eggnog, cuddles up to him on the sofa.

When Mav calls, he picks up. He still feels a lot of different things about Mav, so he only tells him he wants to talk to them after New Year and wishes them Merry Christmas and tells them he'll text them with a time he can come by San Diego. He can hear that Mav is crying when he agrees with the plan and wishes him Merry Christmas back.

He and Jake spend the Christmas night together.

[silk-flower]

Gentle Glow, A Heart's Whisper [James Sunderland X Reader]

anon asked: it seems like James just suffers so much even in fanfics 😭 can he and female reader have something good happen to them at least on Christmas? I just want this man to be happy...

synopsis: It's Christmas Eve, and it appears like the time is against him in these final days of the year. James' darling is waiting for him at home to have Christmas dinner together, but he is working late and doubts he will make it in time. What's the holdup on a holiday like this? You fall asleep on the couch while waiting.

status: oneshot, read on AO3

content warning: female reader, reader described as pale in some parts [?], self-deprecating thoughts, grieving and trying to move on, men crying, established relationship, fluff, romance and kissing n stuff, a Christmas trope

author's note: This was a request that came in before my previous blog got suspended and I didn't have a chance to post it! Wherever this finds you, sorry if this took too long, hope you'll enjoy. Also, this is really long, I got a little carried away...

Aside from the faint hum of fluorescent lights, the sporadic click of keys and clinking of coffee cups as James works on his computer, the office is silent. In an attempt to finish some last-minute work before the holiday break, he has been at his desk for hours on end, sustaining himself on copious amounts of caffeine. Outside, the world is blanketed in snow like in a magical fairy tale, but inside, it's just another bland day at the office. Except today, he's eager to actually leave early instead of taking extra hours.

James glances at the clock on his computer screen. A bunch of gray pixels mockingly blinks 9:30 PM at him. His fingers drop and pull off his computer glasses as he groans and runs a hand through his hair in annoyance. Sensing the impending headache, he closes his eyes and rubs the lids. Just his luck, huh?

He knows you're waiting for him at home, expecting to have dinner together, and there's nothing more he wants than to be wrapped up in your embrace right now, sipping some hot cocoa under a warm blanket. But with the way things are going, he doubts he'll be able to make it in time. It's unpleasant enough to be working on Christmas Eve, but staying late is just on another level of evil, especially when he has someone special, all wrapped up in holiday cheer waiting on him.

He picks up the office phone and dials your home number. James knows he's not exactly allowed to use the corporate line for personal calls, but he doesn't care in the slightest. This is important. He can feel the inside of his palm sweating, waiting for you to pick up anxiously as he fumbles with the ballpoint over some stupid spreadsheet. A few painfully slow rings of the dial are followed by the distinctive rustle of the handset and your well-known, sleep-drowsy voice. James feels sick to his stomach from all the coffee he's guzzled. How is he going to deliver this?

— Uh, hello? — you complain softly, your voice still raspy from sleep. James can hear the faint sound of some holiday program in the background, the audience's laughter and music tugging on his heart strings. You are all alone in your small flat.

— Hey, it's me, — James coos, feeling partly guily for waking you up, the ballpen running in circles on the white sheet, — Merry Christmas.

Several of his few coworkers are gazing up at him curiously from their cubicles as he nervously looks around. Calling you casually in public is still something he's not used to.

— James? — Your voice brightens up a little as you clear your throat and he hears you rise up from the couch, — Where are you? Are you coming home soon?

Home. James feels a pang of guilt surge through him.

— I'm still in the office, — he admits begrudgingly, feeling the wave of anxiousness rise up as he hears your little "oh" through the dial, — I'm sorry, hun.

Over the phone, he hears you whine deeply, his own disappointment weighing hard on his chest.

— I know, I know. I'm so sorry, — he drops the pen, annoyed with himself as he fidgets in his seat, — There's just so much to be done with these blasted invoices, you know how it gets before the holidays.

There's a pause on the other end of the line, and James can almost imagine the expression on your face turning from sour to bittersweet compassionate.

— It's okay, don't worry about it, — you utter finally, your voice softening, — I understand. But I still think they work you too hard, James.

James feels a surge of gratitude for your understanding, even as he knows he doesn't deserve it.

— Thank you, — he says, his voice quiet but thick with adoration, his lips turning up slightly, — I'm just... Sorry I can't be with you right now.

You two keep chatting for a few more minutes, making small talk about your plans for the holidays, the presents you got each other, and his favorite food you've made. Although James attempts to make his part of the conversation lighthearted and upbeat so as not to upset you too much, he is a jumble of self-loathing on the inside. Some partner he is. He should have insisted on a day off or taken an unpaid leave, but he left you on your own on a day like this.

— I miss you, — he whispers finally, a slight blush creeping up his ears as he tries to stare at his computer screen to avoid unwanted eye contact, — I'll see you soon, okay? I'll be there, I promise.

— I also miss you, — your voice is filled with longing as you respond softly, — I'll wait for you and keep the food warm, so drive carefully.

After hanging up, James feels the burden of his guilt pressing down on him. The idea of disappointing you again makes him nauseous, even if you claim you're not angry with him. He knows he's already let you down. He has to make it home before midnight at least, even if continuous typing will make his fingers blister.

With a weary gaze, James surveys the office, taking in the abandoned cubicles and the shadowed windows outside, the only sound being the buzz of his computer. The scarce remains of his coworkers gradually leave the office, waving him warm goodbyes and happy holidays as they head home to be with their families. Leaving him alone and jealous of them in the dead quiet of the building, just the way you are now. He sighs, turning his attention back to his computer screen.

As he types away, his mind wanders to thoughts of you, curled up on the couch at home with your cozy blanket keeping you warm. As you sleep, James imagines your face, calm and soft, your chest rising and falling with each delicate breath. He sees himself sitting next to you, holding you close and engulfing you in his arms. The way your eyes would brighten when you saw him get home in time to wake you up with a tender, passionate kiss. The way they would sparkle with laughter, the lovely pink pearl earrings he got you catching the light, outlining your shoulders' slope and your neck's exquisite curve…

God, how much he longs to see you. James closes his eyes and sighs in anticipation. He has to focus on finishing the paperwork now and stop daydreaming about you, or none of this is going to happen with the way things are going.

He puts in another hour of effort, but his progress is frustratingly slow. The dates don't match, the figures won't add up, the last person working on the file is making him angry and swearing under his breath, and he's anxious about finishing on time — everything seems to be trying to slow him down.

By the time he's finished, it's nearly midnight, and the office feels even more empty and desolate than before. James gathers his things, hurriedly swiping them into his briefcase, and grabs his coat, dismissing his hat and gloves to save the little time he has left. Legs heavy with fatigue, he rushes out of the office and to his car, never minding the strain in his feet. There's so little time left he doubts he will make it, but he still pushes. You must've given up on waiting for him, feeling disappointed and abandoned, finally falling asleep, and the thought clutches at his heart, making him walk to the parking lot faster.

The cold night air hits him like a slap in the face, prickly snowflakes getting caught in his eyes, but he barely notices, his mind focused solely on marching through the snow slopes as quickly as possible. James hurries across the parking lot, his feet pounding against the white pavement with each step, the snow crunching under his feet, reminding him of the forgotten holiday. The strain in his legs is starting to take its toll, but he pushes through it, determined to make it to you on time.

He fumbles with his keys as he gets closer to his car, the lock severely frozen and his fingertips numb from the cold. After a while, he unlocks the door and enters, slamming it behind him in despair.

— Come on baby, don't let me down now, — he breathes out pleadingly to his old but still beloved light blue Pontiac as he turns the keys, the roar of the engine making him instantly elated.

James starts the engine and pulls out of the parking lot, the tires screeching against the icy pavement. The roads are empty, but he still drives with a sense of urgency, his heart racing in his chest. As he drives, his mind drifts to thoughts of you, curled up on the couch at home, waiting for him. His knuckles whiten as he tightens his grasp on the driving wheel as a wave of shame sweeps over him. He ignores his icy limbs, even though the leather seat and the wheel are frozen cold with the car staying out on the street all day.

With the Christmas lights glittering in the distance, he rushes through the deserted streets. The sight would be lovely to him normally, but tonight it simply reminds him of what he's missing out on. Despite James' best efforts and the radio music blasting, the negative thoughts continue to bombard him. He feels terrible, like a monster that leaves his family alone on Christmas Eve. His mind tracks back to the last year when he met you, and his heart soars with warmth and adoration. His mind's eye brings out your smaller frame before him, giving the most beautiful smile to the weird, not really there, stubbled stranger at the bar. Was it back then when he started catching these feelings for you?

He sees your flat's window ahead as he turns onto his street, the living room's muted lights still on. The sweet feeling of knowing you're there somewhere puts an excited smile on his face. James pulls into the driveway and cuts the engine, his heart pounding in his ears as he pats on your present in his breast pocket, snug and secure. For a short while, he sits in the car and looks out the window at the lights you strung on the Christmas tree while trying to soothe his racing heart.

James walks up to the door, fumbling with his spare set of keys once again. At last, he gets inside by carefully turning the key in the keyhole, hardly making a sound, and meticulously shutting the door behind him.

— Sweetheart? — James calls out gently, his voice laden with unspoken worry, — I'm home.

The house is quiet, save for the gentle ticking of the clock on the wall. James walks down the hallway, his heart in his throat. He feels a surge of gentleness as he quietly discharges his boots and coat, tiptoeing to the living room that is only lit up by the lights of the Christmas tree that you so diligently decorated all by yourself. His socks and the edges of his slacks are effectively soaked with snow.

The man walks quietly to the living room, only the light sounds of your breathing and his soft footsteps echoing in the stillness of the room as he takes in the sight of his lover. The sight of you sleeping with the phone clenched in your hand makes James' heart skip a beat as he walks over. You've been calling the office, searching for him.

With the colorful lights creating a rainbow of hues on the walls and ceiling as well as your serene features, the space is filled with a cozy, joyous glow. He pauses to look at you, huddled on the couch, slumping over the edge with the pastel-colored phone handle clenched in your hand. James feels a wave of affection rush over him as you appear so tiny, so comfy, so much like home.

His hand reaches out to brush a stray hair off your forehead as he kneels on the plush cream carpet next to the sofa. You stir slightly at his touch, your eyelids fluttering, but you don't wake even as he slides the back of his palm gently on your cheek. Seeing you waiting for him and missing him makes him realize how fortunate he is to have you in his life and to be allowed to be in yours, even if he knows he let you down tonight.

James gently presses his mouth against your forehead in a kiss, his lips still a little dense from the cold. You radiate warmth in return.

— Merry Christmas, — he whispers, his voice barely audible in the silent room, as he gazes upon your ethereal form.

James sits back on his heels, his eyes still fixed on your sleeping form. He takes a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart, keeping himself from planting gentle kisses all over your face like he yearns to; your rosy cheeks, adorable tip of your nose, soft eyelids and lips. Reaching out, he removes the phone from your grasp, delicately uncurling each finger individually before placing it on the coffee table. You've been waiting for him all night, and he doesn't want to wake you up.

He stands up slowly, his joints popping from the long day of sitting at his desk. He doesn't stretch, though, to not let them crack and destroy the tranquility of the peaceful haven that you've turned your living room into. James looks around the room, taking in the decorations you put together. The tree he took care of mainly; the stockings hanging on the wall, and the wreath on the door were of your making. You did it all for you both, for your first holiday together.

Admiring the antique ornaments he chose especially for you, he approaches the tree and runs his fingertips down its branches before placing the small jewelry box underneath. He smiles as he remembers the way your face lit up when you opened the colorful store box and saw the ornaments, the way you hugged him tight and thanked him for making your first Christmas together so special. James recalls the way he laughed and teased you for how you found joy in the simplest things; those were just silly trinkets after all. But seeing joy on your smiling face was worth so much more than this ordinary gift. He would give you the world if he could, everything you'd ever ask for, though he knew you wouldn't.

It has now been five years. He finds it hard to comprehend how quickly time passes sometimes. It's been nearly five years since... The pain never truly left, not really anyway, lingering somewhere deep in his subconscious and daring to come out in the late hours of the night. Recently, however, things have been beginning to improve a little bit; his heart craving for new things that are beautiful, warm, and welcoming, drawing him into their embrace and instantly numbing his guilt and hatred for himself, even if just for a short while.

"Mary, I... I think I'm falling for someone else", he thinks to himself, and surprisingly, he does not feel distraught.

The way you accepted him and continued to gaze up at him like he was your treasure, your beacon, even after revealing what he's done. Like he was the only man in the world for you. Sometimes, it made him think of the dark side you shared with him. James was aware that he did not deserve it, but perhaps fate — or whatever it was — was offering him a second chance to try to change and start again. Perhaps he will have an opportunity to make amends soon as well.

James' hazel eyes catch a particular shiny ornament, a silver bell that hangs too far on the branch, threatening to fall off. He touches the ornament on the tree, attempting to adjust it a little, causing it to jingle slightly, melodically erupting through the silent room, disturbing its peace. He lets out a startled moan, yanking his hand back immediately, but it's already too late; the fiddled branch gives under the weight of the mischievous toy. James' hand freezes in midair as the ornament falls with a pitiful thud, the sound reverberating through the room like a gunshot. As he turns to look at the couch frantically, he finds you fully awake, looking at him with your eyes still half-lidded, hands rubbing your face.

For a moment, your face is a mask of confusion, brows furrowed comically as you try to process the sight of him. But then, recognition dawns, and your expression shifts, a smile spreading across your face. Your bleary eyes widen with surprise, and your face immediately changes when you realize that your love is home. Still clad in his office job suit, his clumsy silhouette illuminated by tens of sparkling lights. You glance at the clock rapidly; it's minutes before midnight.

— James! — you exclaim, voice filled with joy and relief.

You jump off the couch, almost tripping on your wrinkled blanket, his rushed "careful!" following suit, arms outstretched and ready, as you leap towards him with abandon.

James extends his arms to embrace you, his heart bursting with affection. You collide with him, your heated body molding against his chilled one, your arms wrapping around his waist, your face buried in his shirt, inhaling his cologne and the faint smell of coffee.

James holds you tight, bones almost cracking, his hand running through your freshly washed hair, his lips pressing against the top of your head. He breathes in your wonderful scent, a mix of floral shampoo and the faint smell of cinnamon apple pie you've baked, as his blonde hair mingles with yours. He feels your pajama-clad body relax against his frame, arms tightening around his waist, fingers digging into his back. He knows you've been waiting for him all night, so beautiful, so perfect.

— I'm sorry for waking you, — he murmurs, apologizing yet again this night, his voice muffled against your fluffy hair, seemingly unable to stop inhaling your heavenly smell as he takes long and deep whiffs of your locks.

You pull back slightly, your delicate hands cupping his face, your eyes searching his deep hazel-green puppy gaze.

— It's okay, stop apologizing, — you grumble, your voice softly scolding him for berating himself, — I'm just glad you're here now, it's all that matters.

James leans in, pressing his forehead against yours, his eyes meeting yours, and his lashes lowering in delight at your closeness.

— I missed you, — he murmurs, his voice full of feeling, — Missed you so much today.

— Missed you too, honey. I've been waiting for you, — you mumble gently, trailing off as he daws closer to you, his breath fanning against your face.

James leans in, his lips chapped from the cold, brushing against yours in a soft, gentle kiss. As you sigh, granting his mouth and tongue much-needed permission, he pours all of his love and passion into your hungry lips. His cold hands cup your warm face, and his thumbs caress your cheeks, allowing him to sink in their warmth. He presses his torso into you until there is no more space, pulling you up and closer by your waist, hands raking your middle. Deepening the intense kiss, your lips moving gently against one another, and the room filling with the subtle sounds of wet skin on flesh.

Just when you start feeling your insides tingling with the added sensation of his stubble rubbing against you, he pulls back, his eyes searching yours, his heart racing in his chest under your palm.

— Merry Christmas, — he whispers, his voice husky and low.

You smile, eyes shining with joy and love,

— Merry Christmas, — you whisper back, voice filled with warmth.

As you stand there, surrounded by the glow of the Christmas tree, James feels a sense of peace wash over him. For the first time in a long while, he feels truly content, truly... Happy. And the thought of it doesn't scare him.

James cradles you close, his chin resting on top of your adorable head, his heart bursting with love and yearning. He can feel the warmth of your body, the softness of your hair against his chin, tickling him slightly as he blows it away gently.

He listens as you mumble into his chest, voice still sleepy and groggy from the sudden awakening.

— I love you, James. Thank you for being with me this year.

James's eyes sting, his throat tightening with your sudden heartfelt confession. He knows the past years hasn't been easy for either of you. The loss of his wife still raw in his heart, the tragedy of Silent Hill, the struggle to rebuild his life again and again, starting therapy and failing, then trying to quit his addiction. But through it all, you've been there, a constant source of love and support, his never-giving-up unwavering light in the dark, guiding him to his better self. Giving him the resolve to try, not for Mary or you, but for himself.

James tightens his arms around your waist, grabbing at your pajama top as he does, as if afraid that you'll slip away like a dream if he does. His lips press against your ear, breathing out almost brokenly,

— I love you too, — he whispers, his voice thick with sentiment, — More than you know.

— You deserve this, James, — you say gently as you cradle James' face in you arms, sensing his distress. Gazing directly into his eyes, your own gleaming like two brilliant stars under the sparkling lights, — We both do.

— We both do, — he echoes, his voice soft and filled with wonder. He leans into your touch, savoring the warmth of your hands against his skin, relishing the feeling of your palms cradling his tired face as he closes his eyes in bliss.

And you deserve it more. You deserve more than him, in fact. You've been there for him through everything, a beacon of light in the darkness. You've loved him unconditionally, even when he felt like an unlovable monster, even when he pushed you away at the beginning. James's eyes begin to water, tears spilling down his cheeks. He doesn't try to stop them, doesn't try to hide his emotion from you, knowing you of all people won't judge him. For the first time in a long while, he feels truly free.

— I love you, — he repeats, his voice breaking slightly, feeling embarrassed of his wet cheeks suddenly.

As you give him butterfly kisses all over his damp face, lips gently fluttering against his skin, his heart rises with joy and awe. James can feel the sweetness of your breath, the softness of your rose petal lips, the tenderness of touch.

— I know it. And I do, too, — you whisper back, tasting the salt on his skin.

James knows this is the best present he could have asked for. Not the presents beneath the branches, not the decorations on the tree, but this moment, this bond, this emotion he hopes will last forever.

With his hands on the small of your back and his arms still around your waist, he goes to spin you around a little, which makes you laugh slightly. Inhaling the pleasant scent of your warm skin, he buryes his face in your dainty neck.

— Thank you, — he murmurs, his lips brushing against your nape, making you shiver and hum pleasantly, — For everything. For being here, for loving me, for giving me a reason to keep going.

You tighten you arms around him, holding him close, fingers tangling in his golden rye hair.

[milliesfishes]

౨ৎ꣑ৎTied With a Ribbon౨ৎ꣑ৎ

౨ৎ꣑ৎ12 Days of Christmas Masterlist౨ৎ꣑ৎ [fem reader] contains: kidnapping, angst pairing: fem reader x billy the kid summary: christmas with billy, fish, and willow author’s note: a kidnapping fic for you in honor of christmas! thank you for reading this month darlings <3 <3 Spotify Playlist

My dearest, Billy,

I've missed you terribly from the second you left me, but right now it feels different. Christmas is nearly here, and I only wish that you're safe and well. My heart couldn't bear it otherwise.

I've included the photograph of myself you've requested. It warms my heart that you want to keep me so close when you're wherever you may be. When you come back I can't wait to smother you in kisses and hold you close again. The door is always unlocked for you my love, in our little corner of heaven.

Every time you return, I hope this will be the time you're able to stay. And I won't give up hope this time, darling. You're worth waiting for, worth hoping for.

All my love.

Your letter was burning a hole in his pocket, a string practically attached to his beating heart. The picture you'd sent was lovely, and your eyes seemed to sparkle through the black and white. He wished he had one to send back.

Whenever work called him away he was reluctant to go, to leave you in your cozy cabin with snow frosting the roof. Before his departure, he'd made sure to pile firewood inside, determined not to let you freeze. His heart was also eased by the fact that he wasn't leaving you alone.

The cats were a great source of comfort to you, and they had been ever since they'd been brought home. Willow, the calico, was a sweetheart, always cozying up beside Billy when he came home. Fish, of sleek, black as midnight fur, was a different story. He glued himself to you, hardly leaving your side. He seemed to have a vendetta against Billy, which was normally annoying, but he was glad something was protecting you now.

Cool wind sharpening his cheeks, Billy tugged at the reins of his horse, trying to move him impossibly faster. You were at the end of this road, and he was determined to make it home. Christmas Eve was today, and it'd put him in a certain mood. You weren't expecting him home, but he'd finished up early, wanting to spend Christmas with his girl.

There was a shift in the air as he made a turn into the forest, the atmosphere silent save for the hooves of his horse in the snow. Frowning, Billy tried to gain back the spirit he'd had all the way here. He summoned the image of you warm in your shared bed, swaddled in blankets with the cats purring at your side, but they did not bring him the comfort they usually offered.

He was cautious as he wove through the trees, trying to find the source of his discomfort. You were safe. Weren't you? When Billy had begun to leave you by yourself, he'd taught you how to use a gun and left one with you, in your bedside table. It was the best he could do.

Despite this, he treaded carefully, trying to rid himself of the anxieties that suddenly plagued him. It was somewhat easy until he spotted the drop of red in the snow.

All the air escaping his lungs, Billy fled the scene, running to make it to you. The second the cabin came into view, he threw himself off his horse, legs carrying him the rest of the way. Your name echoed in his head the whole way, giving him energy to make it without giving out.

The door was half open, and Fish was on the porch, eyes blown wide. He meowed, the sound bordering on distress, and Billy bounded up the stairs into the house. Blood dotted the floor, and his chest constricted. Willow was wandering around, and she meowed at Billy when she heard him. He swore there was distress on her little face.

"Hey." Billy knelt, letting her come to him. When she rubbed against his knee, he exhaled, petting her gently. "It's okay sweetie, it's okay." Standing, he called your name, heart still pounding. then again, to no response. When he entered the bedroom, the covers were thrown aside, the bedside drawer half open. And...

The gun on the floor, stray bullets aside.

No.

Panting, Billy practically tore apart the house, calling for you. "Baby? It's me! It's okay!" The silence was making him crazy, and he panted, stumbling outside. Fish was still on the porch, eyes on the horizon. Once Billy spotted the red in the snow like before, he scooped Fish up, setting him inside and shutting the door despite his meowing.

There were other hoof prints in the snow, and he strained his eyes to see them, noting the faint red surrounding. It could have been the blood of whoever had taken you, but his mind was swimming.

His horse had wandered back, a testament to the loyalty of the animal. Billy took in a shuddering breath, petting the horse's nose and trying to sort out his thoughts. He half thought it out before hoisting himself up onto the saddle, casting one last look at the house before riding off. The cats would be fine, and he was going to have you back before sundown.

Following the hoofprints was a shot in the dark, but it was the only one he had. His heart jolted at the occasional dot of red, but he pressed forward. Over and over, he tried to sort out who would do this. Who would dare kidnap his sweet girl, a person who'd never done wrong in her life? You weren't ever supposed to see this side of his life, and now you were swimming in it.

The footprints led to a gaping mouth in a hill what felt like miles away. There were horses outside, and he tensed at the trail of scarlet leading inside. Pulling out his gun, Billy dismounted and peered around the corner, keeping his steps quiet. Pausing at the entrance, he tried to make out the sounds.

Whimpering. He felt a pang in his chest, but recognized it as a good sign. You were here. You were alive. Tying his horse in a nearby thicket of trees, Billy crouched down, peering through the leaves.

He waited until the men's voices ceased and became quieter, ducking out of sight when they got closer.

"She wasn't any help," one grumbled, and Billy crouched lower behind the trees, frozen still.

"Guess we'll have to check up north again. Somebody's gotta know where he is." A horse whinnied, and Billy held tight to his gun.

"Kinda feel bad 'bout leavin' her here." Boots on the ground, then the rustling of a saddle.

"'S not like this is worse 'n followin' the Kid around," the other one said. With a crack, hoofbeats sounded, and then he heard them no more.

Billy waited awhile, longer than he wanted to, but he knew getting caught would be worse than you waiting a few minutes longer.

When he was sure the coast was clear, he snuck carefully into the cave, looking around to make sure nobody was waiting inside. It wouldn't be the first trap he'd walked into. He didn't have to walk far before seeing you.

Tied up with scratches showing through your torn dress, you were slumped against the cold wall of the cave, shivering with your hair falling over your face. He approached you slowly, not wanting you to be startled by his sudden appearance. "Baby?" He spoke softly, breathing out when you lifted your head.

Tears both old and new streaked your face, and he reached out to cup it, smiling softly when you leaned into his touch. Billy was gentle, voice quiet as he undid your binds. "Hey, sweetheart. Hey, it's okay now. I'm here. I'm gonna get you out."

You mumbled, seeming distressed. "Billy...Billy you're here?"

"I'm here," he promised, pushing the ropes to the side and gathering you into his arms. "Oh, my sweet girl," he breathed, stroking your hair as he held you close. "I'm so sorry this happened. Ain't ever gonna happen again." Lifting you up, Billy tried to soothe you, at the same time as getting you out as soon as possible. He kissed your head, still wary of the surroundings.

Managing to make it out without getting either of you killed, he lifted you to sit on his horse, mounting behind you and keeping a steady arm around your waist. Clicking his tongue, he guided the horse forward, making sure to rub your side every little bit. You didn't say a word the whole way home, slumped into Billy's chest with your eyes shut.

Arriving home, he swung you off the horse and into his arms, gratitude made him hold you closer. Your rescue had been quick, and he hadn't had to end any lives over it even though he would have done so in a heartbeat. You were here with him, safe in his arms, and he would never let anything hurt you again.

The location was compromised now- he knew that. But the men who'd taken you were far away for now, and they likely would be for awhile. Billy silently made plans to contact his gang, to take care of it so they'd never again be able to darken your doorstep. But for now, he had you home, and he was going to get you all better.

He didn't let your feet touch the ground, climbing the porch steps and managing to open the door. The cats came forward instantly, Fish meowing up at you in a way that broke Billy's heart.

Objective in mind, he carried you to the bedroom, laying you down and kneeling to look at your arms and legs. You were perfectly still, as he looked over you, eyes almost blank.

Billy exhaled softly, squeezing your knee. "Alright. Alright, baby. We're gonna clean you up, alright? I'll be right back." As he got up to leave, both Fish and Willow brushed past him, jumping on the bed. He smiled to himself, happy they'd be there for company and distraction.

Returning with a wet rag, Billy held it to your scratches, wincing along with you as he cleaned off the blood. "I know. I know, sweetheart. But you're gonna be okay." Fish rubbed against your arm, and you ran your fingers through his fur.

Willow settled against your leg as Billy lifted your torn dress over your head, replacing it with your favorite of his shirts. His movements were gentle, and he kept an eye on you as he removed his own clothes, opting for his sleep pants and no shirt so he could hold you to his chest.

You cuddled right against him when he got in to bed and opened his arms, and he pulled the blankets right over you as the cats got comfortable. Rubbing your side, he whispered, "I'm sorry, baby. I shoulda come home earlier-"

"I should have used the gun," you murmured, nuzzling into him. "I froze and-"

Billy shook his head, kissing your hair and snuggling you closer. "You didn't do a single thing wrong, sweetheart." Stroking your head, he said, "'m just glad I got to you in time."

"I didn't know you were coming home," you smiled softly, hand splayed on his chest, fingers rubbing lightly. "You're here."

"Wanted to surprise you," he mumbled, and you giggled softly. He relished at the sound, happy that your place in his arms had been reclaimed. Willow meowed above his head, and he reached up to give her a little pet. "You too."

"I love you," you mumbled, and he rubbed your back gently, wanting you to get some rest. There was still much to go over, but he'd save it for later. It wasn't the time, and you still needed to recover.

"I love you," Billy repeated, touching his lips to your forehead. Turning his head, he smiled at the sight of snow falling on the other side of the window. Almost Christmas at last. And he was right where he wanted to be- with his girl in his arms and the cats purring above your heads. Rubbing your side, he murmured, "Merry Christmas, sweetheart."

"You're the best gift I've ever been given, Billy," you mumbled, already half asleep. He smiled against your head, tempted to echo the sentiment, but your breathing was slowing and he didn't want to interrupt your body's rest.

On Christmas morning, he would show you his gift, a little box buried beneath his shirts with a promise of forever accompanying it. He would revel in the joy of the day and kiss you without mistletoe and be grateful a thousand times over that you were here and you were his. And that he could protect you.

You were his star, his angel. No gift could ever be as good as the one he'd hardly earned.

[witchthewriter]

𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ platonic, gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

・Boyd already had a son, but Ellis was too angry at him. He barely had anything to do with his father, the Sheriff, no matter how hard Fatima pushed Ellis

・You had entered Fromville by yourself; it was supposed to be your first adventure by yourself and now you were trapped in HELL.

・For the first few days, you were a tiny bit catatonic; anxiety, along with the whole "What could go wrong!" from your family was really messing with your head

・Fatima was the person who showed you a lot of kindness, patience and ways of looking at the town.

・But you came here by yourself, no link to anyone and you felt like 1. an outsider and 2. like the people wouldn't care if anything happened to you

・That was until you were too late getting back to your home in town, the monsters had already pulled up and were doing their creepy business.

・Boyd threw himself straight into action, flinging open the Sheriff Station/Post Office door and grabbing your arm.

"What are you doing out here?! It's DARK!"

"No, I no, I no-"

"So you were trying to get yourself kILLED?!"

"No! I just got carried away at the edge of the forest-"

"The EDGE of the WHAT NOW!"

"No Sheriff, it's okay. It's not like I have any ties here and the probability of me surviving is very low... so..."

・It was in that moment that Boyd decided to unconsiously adopt you.

・He would never let you feel alone again.

・Everyone was going to know you, know your importance.

・Whenever you give your opinion during matters (because you are now in the inner circle - you know more than the regular citizens),

Boyd always holds up a hand before you can talk, "No. You are not putting yourself as bait. Not again."

・Kenny likes you a lot, romantically? Maybe. He's still mixed up about the whole Kristi and Marielle thing.

・Then again, it's not like anyone was going to approach the Sheriff's kid with a romantic offer. Boyd is deeply protective of you.

・Both Jade and Randall have their eyes on you.

・They think you're very unique, smart but also have a boldness that this town had brought out in you.

・Plus you never let either of their quips go without an insult straight back at them

・Ellis, who hadn't been in town for a while, was surprised. A little hurt, but c'mon - deep down he knew he could never be replaced.

・Boyd always makes sure that you're okay, especially when it's just you two at the station. There's one bedroom/cell type place.

・So Boyd made another area just for you, where you had your own bed, a sheet to pull over for privacy and room for all your little trinkets.

・Sometimes he prefers you to sleep in the cell, especially when there's been an incident with the Monsters.

・To get him to open up, you made him play truth or dare once and it was the most fun he's ever had in a while.

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

Two damaged individuals who attach themselves to each other

"Come Near Them And I Will Fucking End You" (Boyd) x "You Heard The Old Timer!" (You, with the constant old person joke)

You bring him things you find interesting like bugs, rocks, things Mrs Chen let you go look for in the lost and found...

𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Found Family

Trustworthy Male Mentor

Father Figure Who Doesn't Realise He's Basically Raising You Until You Call Him Dad

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Beautiful Boy by John Lennon (this doesn't negate from anyone's representation as a woman or non-binary. it's just a beautiful song)

Me and the Devil by Soap and Skin (the original fits here perfectly too)

A Narnian Lullaby by Harry Gregson Williams

[lolahasmoxie]

Christmas Blues - E.M.

It's been awhile since I've written anything. Lucky you; I'm in my feels today so enjoy.

TW: GRIEF (loss of parent)

It was 11:15pm on Christmas Eve.

You'd spent the evening with your dad and brother. This was your 4th Christmas without your mom, and for some reason, this year really hurt. You'd faked a smile the whole evening and the minute you'd gotten home you'd changed into sweats and poured yourself a large boozy glass of eggnog while you sat and watched Die Hard.

Eddie was with his Uncle. Wayne was leaving tomorrow for an extended ice fishing trip with his friends from the plant in Wisconsin, so he and Eddie had spent the day together. He knew something was up with you before he left, but you'd kissed his cheek and sent him on his way.

You weren't sure if he would come home; you'd told him that if he had a beer or two, you didn't want him driving. You'd just see him in the morning to open your presents. Now you were here, alone, your cat Lemmy sleeping on your lap.

Once Die Hard finished you decided to put on White Christmas. Your mom loved that movie; you watched it with her every year. You knew you should have changed it but you just sighed and let the movie play. You'd wrapped yourself in your grief this season; you used her favorite decorations and made all her holiday recipes. Now you were watching her favorite movie. It was after 1am when the movie was near the end, and as the cast sang the titular holiday song, you felt warm tears stream down your cheeks.

You turned when you heard the key turn in the door. A moment later your metalhead bounded inside, shaking a fresh dusting of snow off his shoulders and hair.

"Hey baby, didn't expect you to still be up. Whatcha watching?"

He pauses when he sees your tear-stained cheeks and he knows; of course he does. He says nothing as he walks over to you. He picks up Lemmy first, the tuxedo cat chirping at his father for disturbing his slumber as Eddie places him on the sofa. Then he picks you up, setting you in his lap as he holds you tight. You wrap your arms around his neck and the floodgates open. You let out your grief and sadness while Eddie simply holds you.

"It's okay baby, let it out. Don't keep that shit bottled up. You've been off for days but I didn't wanna push, wanted you to come to me when you were ready."

"It's been so hard this year," you say in a shaky teary voice. "It feels just like that first Christmas without her."

"Grief's a disrespectful bitch like that," Eddie says with a warm grin. "Some years will be ok, others are gonna suck. But you don't have to do it alone, sweetheart, promise."

Eddie holds you a bit longer until your tears are gone. It's late now, but you're not quite ready for sleep. Eddie mulls over what to do when an idea strikes him. He tells you to put on your boots, winter jacket, and gloves.

"We're going somewhere?"

"We're gonna do something Wayne used to do for me when those first Christmases without my mom were really bad. Now bundle up, buttercup."

You do as he asks, and while you get dressed Eddie puts hot chocolate into two travel mugs. Once you're bundled up to his liking he guides you outside and you both climb into his van. It's lightly snowing, not too dangerous to drive at this late hour. He guides the van towards town. Before you can ask where you're going, Eddie points out the window and you can't help but smile at the sight.

He's taking you to look at Christmas lights. Even at this late hour, most of Hawkins's Christmas lights are still on. It feels otherworldly as you drive down the empty streets. It's as if you two are the only people in the world as you ooh and ahh at the displays. Eddie even turns on Christmas music to listen to while you drive through the town drinking your hot chocolates.

Eddie watches you more than the lights. He relaxes as he sees you point out certain houses, as you sing along to certain songs on the radio. Finally, when your hot chocolates are finished and you feel your eyes get heavy, Eddie drives you both home.

Once inside Eddie locks up while you turn off all the lights. Lemmy stretches on the sofa before hopping down and heading to the bedroom, no doubt to sleep in his spot at the foot of your bed. Eddie is about to pass you in the hallway when you stop him by putting a hand on his bicep.

"Thank you for tonight, Eddie. You have no idea how much that meant to me."

"Sweetheart, you don't have to thank me for that. I do it because I love you and I don't like seeing you sad. I'll take you on a hundred late-night rides if it will put a smile on your pretty face."

"Still, I know it's late but maybe I can thank you before we go to bed?" You step closer to him, hands on his biceps as you bat your lashes at him hoping he'll get the message. He pulls you close by your hips and you can feel that he's on board with your plan.

"Go hop into bed, I'll be there in two shakes of a lamb's tail." You lean up and kiss his cheek before going to slip into your bed. Eddie watches your every step as you go.

He lets out a content sigh, happy that tomorrow you'll have the whole day to yourselves with nowhere to go. He smiles as he thinks about one particular present he got you, the ring box that's safely tucked away in his underwear drawer. As he heads to the bedroom to join you in bed he thinks about his only Christmas wish this year, the one that will make him the luckiest man on the planet so long as you say yes.

[iovestuck]

HOT CHOCOLATE FOR TWO ☆ 심재윤

staring. boyfriend ! jaeyun × girlfriend ! female oc

wc. 1.5k | genre. fluff, soft, a hint of angst, etc. | warnings. kissing, a bit suggestive if you look closely, doubts, assuming, super cute moments, etc.

iovestuck's notes. I wrote this yesterday and finished it three hours before Christmas ends in my timezone. I love this Christmas fic and almost cried at this special part of the fic. I hope you love this so much! Please listen to Feel Like by Gracie Abrams and songs that are gentle and soft while reading this fic.

masterlist

IT WAS ONE OF THE MOST BEAUTIFUL HOLIDAYS. Some were out partying, some were in their homes with their family, and some were with their significant other. But there are a few that were alone during this special holiday. One of them was a female.

She didn't have a choice to be alone during Christmas, but because she was sick. She has no choice but to be home alone. Her boyfriend had plans for them, but because she was sick, it was canceled at the last minute. Her family and friends rang her doorbell to give her presents and she gave theirs.

Now, she was alone in the cold empty apartment. She was sitting in the living room looking at the Christmas tree. She looked at her gift bag next to the couch. The only gift that was left for her to give. She sighed as she looked at that blue gift bag. “Does he hate me?” She thought.

She curled up into her warm blanket even more. Still feeling sick but didn't want to waste the day in bed. She hated how sick she was during her favorite holiday. Nothing is worse than being sick during something you loved so much. She then looked at the soup her mother made that she hadn't touched. The guilt was so unbearable that she didn't have any appetite to eat or drink anything.

Her boyfriend planned the day, but because of her, everything was ruined. Suddenly, she heard someone punching her passcode. She didn't move from her spot since it was probably her mother checking on her. Closing her eyes, she felt so empty and tired.

She heard the front door closed and footsteps slowly making their way. A warm hand softly touched her forehead before a sigh was heard. She slowly opened her eyes before widening them. “Jaeyun?”

Her boyfriend softly smiled at her when he saw her eyes were opened. “Did I wake you up?” She shook her head. “No, I was awake before you came.” She took a minute before saying the next words, “Are you mad at me?” Jaeyun's eyes widened before shaking his head with no hesitation. “No, why would I be?”

Eunu felt more embarrassed after she heard what he said. “Well, I thought you did cause we have to cancel the plans that you made months ahead.” She looked from the distance, not wanting to meet his eyes. She could feel his hand over hers and gently squeeze it. “I'm not mad and would never be even if I made the plans months ahead and had to cancel it. You are more important than the plans. Plus, I have better plans for next year, and we can go on a date when you are better if it makes you feel better, Eunu.” He gently smiled at her. “Why did you ask, love?”

She slowly met his eyes, and tears suddenly started to form. “It just…you didn't come here until later, so I thought…” Jaeyun's eyes widened before they softened. “Oh! That's the reason?” She slowly nodded. He quickly let go of her hands and went somewhere in the room. She followed him with her eyes before he went where she couldn't see him. “Close your eyes, love.” Eunu closed her eyes just like he said. She could hear footsteps walking towards her, and the couch sank a bit.

“Okay open them,” he told her. She slowly opened her eyes, and her eyes sparkled with tears. “Oh my goodness, this is so beautiful,” she choked on her tears. Jaeyun reached his thumb to wipe her tears. “I am glad. This is why I was late. I was running to the mall to pick up this and another present that I ordered two days ago. Then, I was stuck in traffic for a while.” Eunu quickly hugged her boyfriend as tears were still falling. “I'm sorry for having doubts and assuming that you hate me.”

Jaeyun hugged her back tightly, but not too tight. “It's okay, love. I am sorry for making you feel that way. I want to surprise you.” She shook her head before slowly pulling away. He quickly wiped her tears with his thumb. “What is your other present?” He smiled. “Do you want me to put this bracelet first?” She nodded.

Her boyfriend took the bracelet out of the box and gently put it on her wrist. She looked at the silver bracelet with a smile on her face. “It's so beautiful.” Jaeyun then went somewhere for a while before coming back with a medium-sized bag. He sat back down in front of her and took out another box from the bag. “I love you so much. You are so perfect and precious. Most times, I don't deserve you. You are my light through my darkness.”

He opened the box, revealing a necklace with a ring in it. Eunu was in tears again when he said his little speech. “Do you remember your ring I gave you during our first anniversary?” She nodded, a bit confused about where this was going. “Remember that one night, you thought you lost it?”

She nodded even more confused about what was going on. “Well, I found it, and instead of giving it back to you. I went to my friend's shop who can do something like this and asked him to make a special necklace and put this ring in the middle since it's special for both of us.”

Jaeyun took a deep breath, so he didn't cry when he said the next words. “I am not proposing to you yet since we are still in our 4th year of being together, and you want to wait until we reach at least 6 years of being together. So this is a promise necklace and ring. I promise to ask you to marry you. I want to promise to be with you forever until our death. You are the love of my life, and I don't want anyone else but you. Will you be my promise too?”

By the time he finished, Eunu was sobbing a lot. She quickly nodded to his question. “Yes, I would love to be your promise, too!” Jaeyun felt tears falling when she said those words. He quickly hugged her again and kissed her neck softly. “Oh my goodness, I love you more than anything!”

“I love you, too!” They looked at each other as Jaeyun slowly pulled away. He gently rested his forehead against hers. Smiles were on both their lips. “Do you want me to put it on for you?” He asked her. “Sure,” she answered. He pulled away and helped her put the necklace on.

Once the necklace was around her, she looked down, gently took the necklace into her index finger and thumb before she looked at it. “It has our initials,” she smiled. Jaeyun nodded. “Yeah, I asked my friend to also carve our initials together on the ring.” She looked at him and smiled. “I love both of your presents. I have presents for you, too. It isn't as great as these, but I know you will still love it.”

She took the bag next to the couch and put it in front of them. “Open them.” She watched him nervously as he took out his presents. His eyes widened when he saw the first present. It was a mug that had a drawing of his dog, Layla and him playing in the snow with a snowman. “I drew the drawing when you were at work in the past few months. I know you love Layla so much, so I want to do something special. Last month, I went to the pottery store to make that mug for you.” Jaeyun hugged her and kissed her forehead. “Thank you, love. It's so beautiful.”

“I also have something else for you.” She signaled him to look in the bag more. He put down the mug on the table before opening the bag again. He slowly took out the item. His eyes widened. It was a Nintendo Switch and a few games that he wanted for the Switch. Including Animal Crossing New Horizons + Happy Home Paradise.

“I know you wanted a Nintendo Switch for a while and wanted to play these games with the help of your friends and your parents. We brought the games and the switch. Plus—she pulled out her own switch from behind her—I brought my own switch and brought the Animal Crossing New Horizons + Happy Home Paradise for myself, so we can connect together!”

“Thank you, love!” He put down the present that was in his hands and pulled her into a hug. She felt much better now. They stayed like that for a while. “Do you feel better now?” He broke the comfortable silence. She nodded. He kissed her forehead. “That's good. Let's have an at-home date for the rest of the day.”

She nodded, not wanting to say anything and just wanting to be in his arms. “We can watch a kdrama that you wanted to watch and make hot chocolate with marshmallows for the two of us.”

She nodded, agreeing with him as her eyes slowly closed. He kissed her forehead once again. “Merry Christmas, love. You are so perfect, and I love you more than anything else.” He whispered softly into her ears as she slowly fell asleep in his arms.

TAGLIST. @senascoooop ,

© 2024-2025 — all rights reserved to user iovestuck, please do not steal, plagiarise, or translate any of my works without prior permission from me !

[lillaydee]

Uncoupled - July

Roommate! Joel Miller / Reader

Two people leaving their marriages ended up going through the mandatory one year separation together before filing for divorce.

Nothing could possibly happen in a year, right?

WARNINGS: Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Ellie & Joel Bonding (The Last of Us), Good Parent Joel (The Last of Us), Soft Joel (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Hurt Joel (The Last of Us), Protective Joel (The Last of Us), No age gap, Roommate Joel, Teacher Joel, Handyman Joel, Insecure Joel, Minor Character Death, Grief/Mourning.

SERIES MASTER LIST

The Uncoupling

---

You switched your phone off after calling Eddie, telling him you were out. Throughout that five minutes call, notifications and incoming calls kept appearing on your screen, driving you nuts. Eddie and his wife Annie were elated, telling you to not bother unpacking, their scheduled move was looking to be right on schedule, and you were moving in with them. No questions asked, not taking ‘no’ for an answer. Your niece was extremely excited; she had been given a basic modern Nokia since she was starting pre-school in autumn, the phone only had three numbers in it – Mommy, Daddy, and Beans. She had been calling you non-stop, asking you what you were doing and how many days were left until you move in with them. Annie had already threatened to confiscate the phone – the bill was shocking for a five-year-old with three contact numbers in her basic ass phone with no Wi-Fi or internet connection.  

Tess and Frank had run out when they saw you park, eyes scanning the surroundings in case Max decided to follow you. You didn’t know why they thought that; the man was no James Bond. He was never going to come after you like that. Inundate you with phone calls? Maybe. But follow you? Nah… You’d need balls to do that, and you doubt he had any, despite being a man. You were greeted by Bill, Frank’s husband, as soon as you walked in, the stoic man hugging you tight, telling you he was proud of you for leaving that wimpy ass man. Frank shushed him before he could get too worked up. True, he had called Bill over to be a guard dog, just in case, but now that there was no threat to be seen, he didn’t want the man raising his blood pressure for no reason.

The three of them helped you set up your office, rearranging some things around so that you could be more comfortable. They had all offered their places for you to stay at while Eddie was still not here, but they lived with their partners in two-bedroomed houses, one of the rooms an art studio for Frank and an office for Andy, Tess’s girlfriend, who worked from home, so if you were going to end up on a couch anyway, might as well be in the privacy of your office. At least you could cry about your failed marriage alone. The bakery had a security system, and the PD was just around the corner, so you did feel safe being here, not to mention having a bakery meant waking up at ungodly hours to prep, so now, at least for two weeks, your commute was much shorter.

Actually, even after Eddie had moved in, your commute would still be short. Eddie bought one of the old houses from one of the first residence area when the town opened, which was just behind the school field a couple of blocks away. Somehow, he managed to find one that hadn’t been renovated at all, the couple who lived there a bit nostalgic about the place, having lived there all their married lives until the husband passed last year. The wife sold it at a steal, being sick and childless, having decided to move to a retirement home now that she was all alone. Andy was a real estate agent, and managed to tip Eddie about the sale, and he got it at first offer. He had all sorts of plans for it down the road, when he and Annie could build up their savings again.

According to Andy, the house was in great condition, clean and ready to move into. It’s just dated. You hadn’t seen it, too busy distracting yourself from thinking about your husband’s dalliances back then. Oh well, you’re sure Eddie made the right choice, the dependable, responsible man that he was.

The three insisted they stayed with you until dinner time, Andy arriving a little after closing with some Chinese. As depressing as the whole situation was, you were glad you had these people with you in your corners. You would have been in theirs too, if you’re honest. Frank and Tess had been your friends since college, taking the part time classes together. They had been working in the corporate world all their adult lives, making good money, but could feel their sanity waning. So when you told them your plan to open a bakery, they jumped at the opportunity to invest. Frank soon quit his job and took cake decorating classes, his first love being art all along, now designing gorgeous cakes for special occasions all over town instead of buildings, and Tess quit her job as a lawyer soon after, realizing that letting her frustrations out on dough had better repercussions than doing so on her bigoted and misogynistic colleagues.

So now, all three of you spent your days baking, decorating, chilling together in the bakery, the two of them making significantly less than they did before, but with much lower blood pressures.

Naturally, the subject of what happened at Jen’s house came up. You told them about your talk with Joel and the lovers’ reactions when they realized you were there, all of them looking scandalized by the happy couple’s pleading and begging. Really? Beg for what? Hmph!

They had all known Max for years, saw his change from the start. They saw first hand what he had put you through, and there was no doubt in your mind that they hated him for it.

“Oh! Joel said he liked our rice pudding! He said he bought them a lot. Joel is the mistress’s husband, by the way, if I wasn’t clear before.”

Tess, Andy and Frank sat up straight.

The teacher from the school? Tall? Broad as heck? Beard? Moustache? Curls for days?

Honestly, you had no idea who was asking the questions. You didn’t even know if he’s the same person they were talking about. You didn’t even know what he did for a living. Bill was the only one who seemed as in the dark as you were.

“Er… I don’t know for sure… but… yeah, I guess?”

Oh. My. God.

It was all three of them this time. Frank, Tess and Andy.

“What?”

“Max cheated on you with RPH’s wife?” Frank looked as if he wasn’t breathing.

“RPH?”

The three nodded enthusiastically.

“Rice Pudding Hunk. He comes in every day. Only buys rice pudding. Best 10 minutes of the day.”

Tess and Andy nodded again.

Bill’s head snapped towards his husband. “Rice Pudding what, now?”

“Oh, Bill, the guy is totally hot.”

“Super-hot,” Andy chimed in.

“Ridiculously hot,” Tess finished.

All three of them took a long, deep sigh, staring dreamily out of the bakery window.

Okay… you rolled your eyes and began fishing for broccoli in your Chow Mein. You were trying hard to get one particularly juicy, sauce-covered looking one with your chopsticks, your tongue out in concentration.

“So, did you get his number?”

Huh?

“Why would I get his number?”

“You know, share sob stories, vent, maybe… release a certain… need together.”

“What?”

“Hey, he’s really, really hot!”

“I have eyes, thank you.”

“So?”

“So, men looking like that do not go for women like me. You should’ve seen his wife. She looks like a Victoria’s Secret model, if they were only slightly taller than me. If plain old Max who had known me most of my life could find reason not to be attracted to me anymore, why the heck would someone looking like Joel want someone like me?”

“Hey, you’re totally cute.”

“Super cute.”

“Ridiculously cute.”

You rolled your eyes. So sweet of these people. But everyone knew what ‘cute’ meant. It meant ‘not hot’, that’s what it meant. You seemed to recall people questioning if Max, who by any measure was average looking, was really with you. To the general public, you were not even attractive enough to be with someone average looking.

That night, after they all left, you found yourself lying in the dark unable to sleep. For the first time since the age of 15, since you and Max became an official couple, you were alone. Did you even know how to be alone? Sure, you’d technically been alone since Max stopped paying any attention on you, but now, you’re really, truly, alone. You looked at your ring finger, the ring tan line still visible despite taking the ring off weeks ago, which Max hadn’t even bothered to notice.

Even having dinner with those four, tonight, it felt different. All this while, when you would be the fifth wheel to the two couples, you had never felt like the odd one out. You were in a couple too, but your supposed other half stopped hanging out with your friends once he found his new, fancy, hoity-toity ones. But you knew you had a partner, as absent as he was. It made you feel better, somehow, knowing you had him somewhere. But now…

You reached out for your phone and finally switched it back on.

As soon as the coverage was up, oodles of notifications came swarming in, about 100 from Max, and another 50 or so from a number you didn’t recognize, which, judging by the initial text, was Jen’s.

Max’s messages began with question marks, and then actual questions asking you what the fuck were you thinking? And then full-on raging at you for daring to leave him. Who were you to leave him? Who would take you now? Did you know how lucky you were that he even deigned to look at you? What man would take you? You were nothing without him. He’s leaving you, how about that? How did it feel to be dumped? Huh? The rage turned to bragging about what he and Jen were going to do now that you were out of his life. He could not wait until the year was up, so he could marry her.

And then, within the space of seconds, according to the time stamp, the bragging turned into pleading. Please reconsider. Please come home. The house felt empty without you. Please baby. Come back. Please.

By the time you finished reading his slew of texts, which ended with a big fat fuck you, you were exhausted. How you wished you could just block him, change your number, but Tess advised you not to do that, even her former colleague who you went to for advice told you not to. Keep the texts. The voicemails. For the divorce. So you settled with muting him for now. Maybe one day you’ll just get another number and keep this one just for him to call you every name under the sun at. But until then, muting would have to do. You switched the phone back off and went to sleep.

Huh. Who would’ve thought reading texts from your soon to be ex husband would make you feel better about being single again. He had been a huge presence in your life for half your life. You were fucking terrified, yes, but oh so glad that you left.

You wondered what Joel was feeling at that very moment. Was he sleeping soundly? Or was he just as terrified as you were to start fresh?

**********

Joel sat in his truck for what felt like hours when he got to Tommy and Maria’s. They were both not home yet, and even though he had the keys, he just felt like an intruder, going into their marital home without them being there. He rubbed his face, trying to calm himself. He had made the mistake of opening the first slew of texts Jen sent him when he got there. The texts, which started with her pleading for him to pick up her calls soon became nasty. One in particular stuck with him.

‘Where would you be without me, Joel? Huh? Who’s gonna take you in? What woman in their right mind would take a cuck like you in their lives? Women need strong men, Joel. Providers. Leaders. Not you. You couldn’t even feed me if you tried, Joel. You didn’t even leave when I told you I wanted to fuck other men. You are weak. Pathetic. Whoever you were running off to, Joel, would be a downgrade compared to me. So go, you pathetic, limp dick of a cuck!’

A cuck. That’s what she called him. A cuck. Because he didn’t run amok when he found out about her infidelities. Because he wasn’t making enough money. Because he didn’t assert dominance in their marriage.

It was as if he would lose either way. If he had been controlling of her since the beginning, he could just imagine the shit she would’ve called him. An abuser, a manipulator. When he didn’t, he’s a cuck. There was no winning with her. Did she even love him?

And yet, when she started begging, hugging his leg, he could feel his heart soften for her. This was the woman who used to tell him she couldn’t live without him. Even after everything she had done to him, hurled at him, he found himself unable to be rough with her. She was still his wife. The woman he tried his mightiest to make happy. As miserable as she had made his life these few years, there was a time he went hungry just so he could buy her an engagement ring worthy of his love for her. At that moment, when she tearfully clawed at the door handle of his truck, begging him to stay, he really thought he might cave. Until you drove by, beeping at him, snapping him out of the reminiscing his traitorous heart was making him do.

His phone had been vibrating non-stop since then. Calls, texts, voicemails, the likes. He couldn’t bring himself to look again. If they’re just more of her calling him whatever colourful names she could think of, he didn’t want to know. If they’re just more of her begging and pleas, he didn’t want to cave. He knew he needed to let this go.

Maria knocked on his window, asking him what he was doing outside. It’s boiling out here. Come on inside.

She helped him carry his stuff inside, despite his protests. They had turned her office into a room for him, an old futon from her old apartment all made up for him to sleep on. She asked him if he needed anything else and he shook his head, thanking her for letting him stay. She squeezed his hand in response, her heart broken for this gentle bear of a man. She’s making dinner, she told him. Take your time and come out when you’re ready, okay?

Joel sat on the futon, seriously wondering how life was going to be for him now. His phone was still vibrating incessantly, a number he didn’t recognize now joined in on the texts. He got up and asked Maria if she knew how he could mute someone. She had advised him not to block Jen, all the texts and voicemails could be evidence for the divorce. He was so thankful for her for her advice during all this. She had recommended a colleague of hers to represent him, pro bono. He owed her a favour, she had told him. He had asked her not to do that, but Tommy told him there was no use arguing with a lawyer.

It took her seconds to mute Jen for him, and that other number too, as she suspected that it was the guy she was with, going by the texts. He thanked her, rolling his sleeves to help her with dinner, despite her protests. Please, he said, let me at least do this for you, taking the knife from her hand and began chopping the onions she had started chopping.

He told Maria and Tommy what happened when he went to pick up his stuff during dinner, both of them scoffing at her dramatic clinging to his leg, begging him to stay. Hmph. Stay for what? Joel swore Maria’s eyes rolled up so high he couldn’t even see her irises at one point.

They had known Jen for a long time and saw how much she’d changed. They saw first hand what she had put him through, and he was quite certain that they hated her for it.

Thank God he had them in his life.

“So, the wife, what’s her name?” Tommy asked.

“Why?”

“She hot?”

“Tommy!” Maria smacked him on the shoulder.

“What? They’re kindred spirits. Their partners are already going at it, why not them? Doesn’t have to be anything serious, just… you know, for… stress relief.”

Maria closed her eyes, opening them again to give Joel an ‘I’m sorry’ look. Joel laughed, shaking his head.

“I just moved out, Tommy. I have no time, nor the mind or will to think about stuff like that. And she’s exactly in the same boat as I am, so, no.”

“But she is, hot?”

“She’s cute. She owns that bakery that sells those rice puddings near the school. Lil Beans?”

“Lily? Lily Williams? Jen is cheating on you with Lily William’s husband?” Maria shrieked, getting Tommy all excited that she had known you.

“What? You know her babe?”

“She’s my client. I’m handling her pending divorce. She’s Tess’s best friend, you remember Tess? I don’t think you’ve met but I’m sure I’ve told you about her. She used to work with me. Oh, she’s totally cute. Adorable as a bunny rabbit.”

“Tess?”

“No, you muppet, Lily! And she’s so nice, too. And a great baker. You should try something else at that bakery apart from the rice pudding. Everything she makes is delicious.”

“Yeah, Joel, you know there are other desserts other than rice pudding? You can’t keep having rice pudding you know. Explore a bit.”

Joel and Maria were quiet for a bit.

“Are you still talking about rice puddings? Or something else?” Joel asked Tommy.

“Look, brother, you are a loyal man, and that’s a good thing. But being loyal to Jen got you here. Maybe, now that you’ve left, you need to explore a bit. You’re a single good-looking man, there are others for you out there. Maybe Jen doing this with that guy is kismet. Maybe you and Lily should… you know, talk. Share experiences. Be ‘friends’,” Tommy did the air quotes, winking at his brother.

Joel scoffed and continued eating. Max made more than double what Jen did. Jen made sure to tell him that. If Jen could make him feel like a useless wimp for not being able to afford fancy holidays to take her on, what would you think of him? You must have been accustomed to a certain lifestyle being married to a man like Max, why would you lower your standards for some primary school teacher making pennies such as himself?

Joel went back to his room once he cleared the kitchen with Tommy, wanting to give his brother and his wife some alone time. He’s used to being the third wheel with them, but now, somehow, it just felt… off. For whatever reason, being the third wheel when he himself was in a couple felt different to now. Now he just felt like he was intruding.

Fuck. He’s single again. This was alien to him. He’d been with Jen for half his life, literally. Fifteen years. It’s all he knew. Even during those times she treated him the way she did, there was an ease in his mind knowing that he was not alone. But now, he just felt… lost. He looked at his ring finger, the tan line still there despite taking his ring off months ago, not that Jen noticed.  He was a married man. He liked being married. Even now, knowing how miserable he was, he missed it. He missed having the routine of going home to someone.

Oh well, maybe it’s not meant to be.

He laid on his futon, taking the book he had started the day before to read. He could hear Tommy and Maria laughing at something they were watching on TV. He remembered the times he and Jen used to do that. God, what an idiot he was. He tried so hard, so many times to take her back to those times, remind her what they had together. It took him so long to accept that she was no longer interested in that life. She was no longer interested in him.

As relieved as he was that he left, he was terrified by what he was about to walk into. Could he be single again after all this time?

Sigh.

He wondered what you feeling at that very moment. Were you sleeping soundly? Or were you just as terrified as he was to start fresh?

**********

“Oh God, Eddie, was that door a time machine?”

You couldn’t believe your eyes. The house looked like it was stuck in the past. The wallpapers, the cabinetry, the bathrooms, the carpeting, all of it, it was basically the 70s.

“Shut up. It was cheap, it has room, and we could change things over the years,” Eddie was defensive, although you could see the glint of excitement in his eyes, his arm snaking around Annie’s waist from behind, hugging her so tight the woman squealed.

“Eww… Beans, make them stop. They’re always doing that!” Ellie shouted from the piggyback you had her on. You could just see her face then. So dramatic when it came to PDAs from her parents.

“Hey, you came from one of these, so you’re not one to complain, missy,” Eddie told her, making Annie slap his arms.

“Beans, what’s he talking about?”

“Nothing. Forget you heard that,” you told her, taking her to your room to unpack whatever small amount of belonging you had.

Annie had gone all girly auntie lady on your room, ordering the most princessy bed she could find at Ikea for you. The white metal kind with swirls and florets all over the curved and stylized headboard. She had been disappointed Ellie didn’t want one for herself, opting for the simpler black metal day bed, so she took her frustrations out on you instead. She was so happy to know she was having a girl, dragging you around the mall to buy every pink stuff she could find every time she and Eddie was in town to visit you. She was so deflated when Ellie grew up to not like pink at all, but being the awesome mother that she was, she let Ellie choose anything she liked.

And you? Despite your personal feelings about that bed, you were just thankful you had one at all. So you were not going to complain.

It took the three of you a whole week to unpack. As soon as the last box was flattened and placed with the recycling, you treated them all to a wonderful dinner at the fancy steak place in town, splurging as a thank you to your brother, his wife and their kind consideration for you.

You sat in the backyard with him as Annie tucked a sleepy Ellie in bed.

“Thanks Ed, for taking me in, I don’t know how to thank you,” you told him.

“What? Of course you do. I expect good dessert every day, thank you very much.”

You laughed out loud, feeling ever so grateful you had him in your life.

“You bought a nice place, Ed, it’ll be an awesome forever home someday. Once we fix it a bit. I promise I’m not gonna take too long to find another place, okay?”

“The fuck are you talking about? You’re staying. End of. Until you find yourself a man, one who can actually take good care of you this time, and I’m not talking about money, you are staying here with us. Annie agrees. We’re not taking no for answer. Plus, you want to tell Ellie her only aunt would rather live somewhere other than across the hall from her? I don’t want to do that. She’ll hate me for life.”

“Come on Ed, I can’t impose on you forever.”

“Nuh uh, nope. Listen to me, Beans, you’re family. We’re all each other has. Mom and dad would rise from the grave if they knew we live in the same town and not live together. You want to risk that?”

You laughed, laying your head on his shoulder.

“Plus, the house was gonna be yours anyway, if something happened to me and Annie.”

You lifted your head off.

“What are you talking about?”

“We finalized our will. If something were to happen to both Annie and I, you get the house, and custody of Ellie.”

“What the fuck, Ed? Why would you talk about something like that? It’s not funny!”

He gave you a very serious look.

“I’m being serious. We have a child, we have to think about these things. And we don’t trust anyone but you to take care of Ellie. You would take care of her, wouldn’t you? Like she was your own?”

“Of course I would, but I don’t like you talking about shit like this Ed. It’s not funny. If you die before me, I will kill you. You understand?”

Your eyes were filled with tears, the prospect and thought of him leaving you was just too much. He pulled you into a side hug, kissing your temple.

“Promise me you’ll stay alive Ed. What would I do without you? Don’t even talk about shit like that to me. Promise me, Ed. Promise me,” you sobbed.

He pulled you into a full hug, letting you sob into his shoulder.

“I promise Beans, I promise.”

**********

The bell to the front door of your bakery jingled. Tess yelled out that she would be right out, and for whoever it was to browse first. She was washing flour off her hands when you told her you’d take this one. Ellie’s voice was already piping up behind the counter. Who are you? What’s your name? What are you doing here? Why are you so old? Why is your face like that? The male voice that was trying to answer didn’t stand a chance – her questions were incessant, one after the other, like bullets.

“Ellie, what are you doing? Are you trying to scare my customers away now?”

“Hi, it’s you. Lily, right?”

Oh… it’s him. He’s here. You were always in the back when he dropped by apparently, you had no knowledge of the RPH until they told you.

“No, It’s not Lily. It’s Beans,” Ellie answered for you, standing on a chair so she could see over the counter, arms crossed on her little chest, her face a bit sceptical of Joel.

“Ellie, stop it. He’s a customer. Be nice.”

“It’s okay, really. I don’t mind. Hi, I’m Joel.”

“You are a man, right?”

Er… where were you going with this, Ellie?

“Last I checked, I am.”

“You have balls?”

“ELLIE!!!”

“What? Daddy said all men have balls. Except Max,” she looked at Joel and told him outright, “Daddy calls him No Balls Max.”

Oh dear God.

“Good to know,” Joel laughed, giving Ellie a fist bump, and then pretending to hurt his hand when she bumped it with her tiny fist.

Tess came out and gave Ellie a high-five. Good girl, she said, come on, let’s leave your auntie Beans alone with RPH. Bye old man, Ellie yelled as she followed Tess to the back.

“RPH?”

“Feel free to ignore them. Hi, what can I get you?”

“I’ll have the rice pudding and the egg tarts please.”

You got what he asked for, apologizing profusely for Ellie’s potty mouth. He laughed it off.

“That’s a smart kid. She’s gonna be a ballbuster one day. I take it that’s your niece?”

“Yeah… she starts pre-school in September, so until then she’s here with me while her parents work. It’s part of my lease agreement with my brother. And I cannot wait until she’s in school lest she runs all my customers off with her mouth!”

He laughed again, taking the paper bag, digging in his pocket for his card. You waved your hand at him. They’re on the house.

“You don’t have to do that,” he said, offering you his card anyway. You waved it off, telling him it’s a thank you for being there for you that day the two of you moved out. You were sure things wouldn’t have gone as well if he hadn’t been there.

“I’ll pay you back somehow,” he promised you, putting the card back in his pocket. “Thanks for these Lily, or Beans, apparently?” he looked at you questioningly, a curious smile on his face.

Your phone rang in your office. A story for another day, you told him. He nodded and tipped his proverbial hat at you, thanking you once more before leaving the store. You rushed to answer your phone.

“Hello, this is Officer Matthews calling from the County Medical Center, may I speak to Ms Lily Williams please?”

“Yes, this is she.”

“Are you related to a Mr Edward Williams and Mrs Anne Williams?”

Oh God.

“Yes, they’re my brother and sister-in-law.”

“Ms Williams, I’m sorry to inform you…”

The rest of Officer Matthew’s speech was garbled. You were under water. You couldn’t breathe. You dropped to the floor, Frank rushing in, his face panicked, asking you what was going on. Ellie came in after him, her face was the only thing you saw, despite Tess and Frank being right there next to her.

Frank took your phone off your hands, as you pulled Ellie in for a tight hug, hoping that you would soon wake up from this nightmare you were sure you were in.

---

August

[lou-struck]

Mistletoe Mission

Rintaro Suna x reader

~ After receiving a strange gift for Secret Santa, Suna finds himself wondering what the mysterious second part could be.

W.C: 2.1k

~Ho ho ho Merry Christmas to the Lovely @ryomance from your Secret Santa! I had never written for Suna before, so I hope I did him justice. 

Rintaro Suna thought that with his high school graduation, he would be free of the twins' antics, but now, he not only finds himself squeezed between them on the couch. But he is surrounded by the majority of his old teammates. Each one balances a Secret Santa present on their lap as they have done for years. 

No one knows who came up with the idea for this Christmas party, but everyone tries to take credit for it. Either way it keeps that friendship and bond that these young men made with one another alive and well.

The halls of Aran's new home are decked out with holly and those other festive decorations that would be overkill if not for the massive party happening just after the Secret Santa Gift exchange. 

"You first Captain," Kosaku gins, reaching across the lap of Shinsuke Kita to playfully poke at his gift bag. 

"Thank you, I look forward to receiving my gift," the grey and black-haired man smiles fondly, looking around at the group, trying to catch the eye of his Secret Santa. He reaches into the bag gently, as if he is afraid of tearing the tissue paper, and pulls out his gift… a fuzzy pair of handcuffs. 

His eyes go wide as the room erupts in laughter; it's not every day someone is able to rattle Mr. Perfect. "Well... I believe this is one of those gag gifts." Kita says, clearing his throat and regaining his composure. "Thank you for the laugh. I deeply appreciate it."

After the fuzzy handcuffs, the rest of the gift exchange went off smoothly; each former Inarizaki player opened their Secret SSanta gift, going around their makeshift circle until Suna found himself the only one still with a wrapped gift on his lap. 

"Yer turn," Astumu grins; he's practically wiggling on his couch cushion in anticipation. His eyes on on the red bow-adorned box in the middle blocker's lap. Briefly, he wonders if it is going to explode. The twins have a tendency to go a bit overboard with their gag gifts. "Come on, open it."

"I thought this was supposed to be a Secret Santa," he mutters as he toys with the red ribbon on the box. 

"Before ya open it, I just gotta tell ya that this is only a small part of yer gift. The other part will get here later at the party."

All eyes are on him as he opens the little box, peels back the tissue paper to unveil an expensive-looking chapstick tube and a packet of…breath mints. 

What?

Suna stares down at his 'gift' with confusion and a bit of self-consciousness as he tries to make sense of it. 

The words tumble out of his mouth before he can stop himself. "Is this your way of telling me my breath stinks or something?"

Atsumu shakes his head and glances over to his brother, "Nah, jus makin sure ya had the necessities."

"Y-yea," the grey-haired twin agrees, "Ya never know when you'd need a mint and some…" He is cut off by the sound of the ringing doorbell. 

"It looks like the other guests are arriving," Aren says, getting to his feet, effectively ending the awkwardness, and stepping out of the room. 

With everyone else scattering about the house for the party Suna finds himself alone, still trying to figure out who would be bringing the second part of his gift to the holiday party. Atsumu's teammates will all be coming over, so it could be one of them, but it could be someone else entirely. 

Popping open his breath mint package, he tosses one into his mouth and continues to mull over this question as the home begins to fill with familiar faces. 

~

The party is now underway, and with the house filled to the brim with professional volleyball players, Suna, who is used to towering over crowds of people in his day to day now feels average…

The extroverted balls of energy taking up all the cold air in the living room became too much for him, and he finds himself hiding away in the much quieter kitchen, helping Aran bring in a few bags of ice for the punch bowl. 

"We don't even need to keep them in the freezer," Suna remarks, passing by the window and catching a glimpse of the falling snow just beyond the frosting glass. "Just toss the other bags outside. 

"I agree," Aran chuckles, "I'm surprised just how many people were able to make it tonight." As if on cue, the doorbell begins to ring. "Look at that, another guest. Do you mind getting that, my hands are still wet."

He nods silently and steps out into the hallway toward the door. As he walks, he realizes that he knows most, if not all, of the party's attendees. Everyone from his fellow Olympians to V- League sponsors are within these warm walls, so who else could be coming?"

A bit of static shoots up his arm when he makes contact with the doorknob, but as he twists it, he fights the wind to pull the heavy door toward him. He comes face to face with the one person he always hopes to see. 

You…

His not-so-secret crush who looks so damn cute in your holiday sweater, 

H-hey" he breathes, suddenly thankful he took a breath mint earlier. "I didn't realize you were coming~ I mean, I'm glad to see you." 

"Hi," you say, the word turning into a cloud of condensation the moment it leaves your lips as you readjust your drip on the little appetizer plate you brought with you." I-it's good to see you," 

Your teeth chatter a bit as you smile up at the taller man. Suna takes a step back, ashamed that he kept you out in the cold for as long as he has. "Here, let me take that for you," he offers taking the tray from your chilly hands. 

"Thanks," you breathe, stepping into the warm house and removing your snow-crusted boots at the door. "It's cold out there, you'd think it was the dead of winter or something."

Your little quip makes him snort in amusement, his hands fly to his mouth as he internally scolds himself for his incapability to keep it cool. 

"let me show you where the other snacks are," he says, leading you through the house. Just out of the corner of his eye, he notices the Faux blonde head of Atsumu leering from behind a doorway. Locking eyes with his former classmate soon as shutters when the setter gives him a wink.

On instinct, his eyes narrow into a glare, the cold look getting your attention as you turn your head to figure out who the recipient is. Atsumu clearly is not as sneaky as he thinks he is because you definitely saw him disappearing behind the drywall.

. "Was that Atsumu?" you ask, but Suna just shrugs.

"Yeah, he's just being a little weird today." He says, not necessarily lying.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" You say changing the subject.

"Shoot." 

"do you know everyone here?" there's something in your voice that his natural perception picks up on. Nervousness.

"mostly, yeah. a lot of these people work in sports. Other volleyball teams, marketing departments, and sponsors. Why? Do you see someone you recognize?"

"The opposite, aside from you and a few others I feel like I don't know anyone here. Would you be all right if I stuck with you for a little bit?" Your eyes are wide, full of hope. As you basically ask him to hang out with you all night, but little did you know Suna is over the moon.

It's almost like the two of you are here at the party together… are together. 

He shakes that wonderful thought from his head as you walk by the staircase where the snack table is conveniently blocking the guests from going upstairs, (a recent addition from last year)

"Let's find some room for this," he says, looking down at the crowded table.

"Is there any room?" you ask, Staring down at the massive spread.

"Sure there is~" he trails off when he notices movement above you. 

A bundle of mistletoe sways just inches above your head, attached to a thin brown string that dangles from the level above. His golden eyes follow the string leading up and up and…

Atsumu…

He is still wearing that shit-eating grin as he maneuvers the mistletoe over your head. And suddenly, everything makes sense…

The Mints

The chapstick.

That creepy, identical look of Mischief on the twins' faces as they chuckled under their breath with every ring of the doorbell.

Suna's Secret Santa present is getting to kiss you, his crush, under the mistletoe. 

His eyes go wide as he looks over to you, thankful that you are still trying to figure out where to put your plate.

It's not that he doesn't want to kiss you because…God, look at you, but there are a million thoughts going through his head, and ninety-nine percent of them are negative.

What if you don't feel the same?

What if you were seeing someone and just never brought it up?

What if he kisses you, and you don't like it?

Clenching his fist, he decides to just ignore this golden opportunity. You still haven't noticed anything amiss yet, so he still has a chance not to embarrass himself or ruin anything. 

"Wanna get a drink?" he says quickly. The punch bowl should be in the living room, far away from any kind of balcony or open space. 

"Sure," you say, your smile making him weak in the knees as he takes your wrist and gently pulls you out of the mistletoe's range. 

~

The living room is definitely the place to be, the two of you have been having a great time people-watching, and the best part is, as the two of you chat away, he can clearly see Atsumu on the other side of the room. Keeping him at an arm's length will be the only way he doesnt blow his chances with you before the new year.

Suna has always been a pretty perceptive guy, but even then, he barely notices the grey head of Osamu sneaking up to him, another bundle of mistletoe in his hand. 

Ah, are they working together?" he mutters lowly, knowing that if Osamu makes it over to the two of them, there will be no way of getting out of this awkward situation. 

"Sorry? Did you say something?" you ask, picking up on his annoyed muttering. With the mistletoe within an arm's length of him, he has to act now.

"Follow me," he says. His voice sounding much more urgent than he intended it to be, his hand flies to the small of your back to guide you away.

You let out a small noise of confusion but allow him to steer you to the much quieter kitchen to hide from the twins for just a bit longer. But you dig your heels in at the doorway and look up at him seriously. "What's wrong?"

Suna's mouth goes dry as he tries to find a half-decent answer for his behavior. "I- uh. Just thought maybe…"

Yeah… he's got nothing. 

Your eyes scan his face with concern, but then they suddenly drift to something in the doorway above him. He follows your line of sight when he notices that there is another sprig of mistletoe taped securely to the wood. 

"Oh, look at that," you say, your eyes flickering back to him. "Is that Mistletoe?"

An opening…

"I think so." he responds, still testing the waters. "What do you think?"

You nod and he makes his move, his hand reaches to your chin and tilts it ever so slightly in his direction. Before your eyes flutter shut, there is an eagerness reflecting in them that makes him wonder why he had been so worried about doing this earlier. 

"Finally," you murmur against his lips, just before he captures them, stealing your breath as your knees threaten to give way under the massive weight of repressed mutual attraction breaking through to the surface. 

Although Suna is unsure of just how long he lost himself with you, by the time he comes up for air, he notices Kita standing over the sink, diligently washing an empty plate. A satisfied smile on his lips as he mouthes the words 'You're welcome."

Tagging: @pixelcafe-network Thank you guys for organizing such a fun event!

[poppitron360]

*Picture me dressed in the sexy santa costume from Mean Girls and dropping this fic down your chimney. Ho ho ho. Merry Ficmas*

— — — — — — — — —

They were finally alone in the kitchen.

Jason leaned against the side of the counter. Piper leaned against the opposite one, next to her dad’s high-tech induction hob and built-in range hood.

The silence was deafening. The weight of who wasn’t there hung over them- and Piper imagined this was how Annabeth had felt when she’d held up the sky. She’d never known an absence that could feel so… heavy. It was loud, so loud that it drowned out any conversation.

They just sat in silence.

A siren wailed on a distant Los Angeles Highway.

Eventually, Jason spoke.

“We’re still not talking about-“

“I know,” Piper cut him off, not meeting Jason’s eyes, “We’re not.”

“He’s alive, Piper.”

Her heart ached. Jason was so insistent, so determined in his beliefs. His delusions. He was like a hopeful puppy dog, waiting by the door all day for his owner to come home. Piper couldn’t bear to watch his little tail wag expectantly, when she knew it was hopeless.

“Then why isn’t he here?” She asked, her cheek wet with tears, “Why isn’t he home? It’s Christmas day, and- and he’s not here. He should be here, Jason.”

“I know.”

“Then where is he?” Piper finally turned to look at the him “Lost? Stuck? In trouble? Or maybe he just doesn’t-“

The son of Jupiter stayed, standing stiff and arms-crossed, staring determinedly across the kitchen island.

“No,” Jason’s tone was firm.

“I know you’ve had that thought, Jason. H-he-“

“Don’t.”

“If he wanted to disappear, he’d know how. What if… what if he just doesn’t want to come back?”

“No. No. He’s in danger. He needs our help. And we’re just… opening presents? He’s probably off fighting for his life while we laze around drinking eggnog and watching movies. It’s not right. We should be looking for him-“

“We’ve looked, Jason,” Piper snapped, “We’ve looked. I tried another Iris message this morning and nothing. I don’t know why I even bother anymore. He’s not here. He’s gone. He’s never coming back.”

“You don’t know that,” Jason had a stern look in his eyes. He didn’t show it often, but at this moment Piper really did believe he had been raised by wolves.

Piper turned away from him, gripping the high-end quartz worktop until her knuckles turned white. “I can’t with this. I just… can’t. I can’t torture myself with the hoping and waiting. Wondering if he’s just… no. It’s better to believe that he’s dead.”

“I can’t believe you!” Jason’s voice was raised, his tone outraged, “How could you even say that when he could be in trouble? For all we know he could be stuck and calling out for help, he needs us, Piper-“

Piper kept gripping the countertop, staring up at the kitchen cabinets. “Jason, we are not having this argument. Not again. Not at Christmas.”

Piper could hear Jason scowling. “So that’s it? You’re just gonna move on? And forget-“

“Forget?!” Piper cried, finally turning to face him “You think I can forget that explosion? How I watched my best friend- my first real friend- go up in ash and fire?”

“Piper-“

“You think I can forget the months of uncertainty, not knowing if he was okay, if he was in trouble, if somehow that message was faked? You think I can forget his face, his laugh, his stupid little jokes? He is… was my best friend, Jason. Of course I can never forget. I miss him. Every. Day. It’s just… it’s too quiet without him.”

Piper searched and searched, but she couldn’t find the right thing to say to turn herself around. She had the magic voice- she was the encourager, the soother. But here… she was lost. Just lost.

She wanted Jason to wrap his arms around her, and hold her tight.

She broke down sobbing.

Jason stayed there, silent.

— — — — — — — — —

You’d think after a week of these I’d have enough of the Lost Trio, but no.

I know the event is over, but tagging @lost-trio-week anyway because I did technically write this for the event, I just thought of things that would fit the prompts better. Also not technically Lost Trio as they don’t even say Leo’s name (because they can’t bring themselves to. Hahahaha I’m evil) but it’s a fic very much about Leo and the trio’s relationship.

Also happy Christmas (If you celebrate)!! Whether today is a normal day or not, I hope y’all are having a better 25th of December than Jason and Piper are having in the fic. I realise most of you are busy and won’t read this today but I like posting fics on the dates they’re set on. Sue me.

Part 2 showing Leo’s side of this coming tomorrow (and technically my first Caleo fic 🫤)

Also a fic exploring Jason’s feelings looking for Leo coming… soon. Maybe. Or never. It’s still very much a WIP.

@euryvices-deactivated20241019 @deciduowl @lavenderfairiez @ottpopfic @ginnyluna @groverapologist @echo-stimmingrose @demigod-shenanigans @keefessketchbook @sleepyycapybara @123letsgobestie @kaleidoskuls @fairytalesociology @four-leafed-queer-gal @child-of-helios @green-tea217 @puzzled-pegasus @twomanyfandomshelp @lokiwiiiiiii @yoshuko-ew @frayna-of-the-hollow @via-rant @daonedaonlyskh @hadeslegacyhephgirl @siimplyapril @pjowasmy1stfandom @thetourturedwritersclub @m-for-now