#I don’t think I even remember what day it is today

[henry7931]

Chase:

Today is a really weird day and I didn’t know how I would feel about coming over to my best friend Bryce’s house especially after the incident.

Bryce and I have been friends for over 12 years now and him and I have always been a couple of scrawny gay nerds. We both love Minecraft legend of Zelda, just about every video game you can think of and one way we really bonded was figuring out that we are both gay.

Now for years, I’ve always known that Bryce had a crush on me. For me it was never that I didn’t like Bryce or I was never interested, but I never wanted to ruin the friendship. But then you have Walker is older brother. Walker is a few years older than us. He’s super handsome, athletic, charming, he could basically date anyone he laid his eyes on.

The truth is Walker was my sexual awakening for years. I’ve stayed at their house and spent the night and it wouldn’t be uncommon to see Walker come out and nothing but basketball shorts hell I don’t even think he would wear underwear sometimes.

I can remember the way seeing him made me blush, and I tried my hardest not to stare at him. I don’t know if Walker could tell that I was checking him out. Or maybe Walker was just used to people checking him out shouldn’t be any surprise that his little brother‘s gay friend had his eyes glued to him.

And somehow he continues to keep getting hotter and hotter and hotter…

So several weeks ago, Bryce and Walker’s family went on vacation to some tropical island. And something very strange happened while touring an old temple. How Bryce explained it to me was that they had a sign up that specifically said, “ please do not touch artifact.”

Bryce can be such a stickler for rules and I can almost see it in my head. It all went down. Bryce told Walker not to touch it. Walker likes to get on Bryce‘s nerves Walker reaches for it and then shit got real quick. Because Walker and Bryce have now switched bodies.

When Bryce was explaining all this to me, I really thought it was bullshit. I mean, who would believe that that sounds like something from a movie and yet even hearing Walker‘s voice, I can tell just by the tone that it’s Bryce.

So today is the first day that I have seen Bryce since he swapped bodies with Walker. And that’s why I feel all kinds of weird.

Now Bryce and I have stayed with each other like 1 million times and it’s really not unusual for us to be basically naked around each other. OK maybe not completely naked but like at least in her underwear.

And I have tried really, really hard to make him feel comfortable and I think I’m doing a really good job but having him standing in front of me in just his brother’s boxers is driving me a bit insane.

I’m sitting on Bryce‘s bed and walks back into his room just to ask me if I wanted anything from downstairs like something to drink or maybe a snack. I can barely get out the words because I can’t stop staring at the chiseled God in front of me.

“ chase you’re staying the night right?,” he asked me.

“ oh yeah, of course I’m staying the night as long as that’s OK.”

“ yeah man of course it’s okay! You know it’s okay man. No one cares you stay the night. You’re like basically family sides. My brother isn’t going to be home tonight. He’s wanted a lot of space since the whole. I’ve got his body thing. And both my parents are out of town so it’s just gonna be us,” he says with a side smirk.

“ well if it’s just us what do you wanna get into tonight?,” I say trying to make conversation.

I’m holding my eye contact directly at his face and I try my hardest not to look anywhere else, but he takes his hand and start scratching his balls and I can almost feel my whole cock twitch.

“ I mean since everybody’s not here tonight, we can always break into my parents liquor cabinet, whoop whoop!”

You know I am probably the most innocent 18 year-old alive, I don’t wanna attend parties nor do I really sneak around my parents but I feel like alcohol sounds like a great idea right now. I mean it I might be able to calm down a bit.

“Hell yeah! That’s sounds fun!,” I say with some enthusiasm.

“Bet! Be right back!”

I hear as heavy feet running down the stairs and all I can do is try to think of something that would totally turn me off like anything taxes, my grandparents, just something…

And yet all I can think about is how hot it would be if I could suck on his toes. I’ve had a thing for feet a while now and it’s taking me a little bit to accept it and a part of that I blame Walker for him because he has some sexy ass feet.

I can remember clearly the smell of his feet after he would finish football practice and he would pull off his shoes. Shit! Fuck! I’m so hard right now. I feel like I’m gonna have to sneak away and beat one out in the bathroom just to clear my head.

And then here comes Bryce with two glasses in his hand and a bottle of wine for the both of us just super eager.

I reposition myself to where I’m laying flat on my stomach so he doesn’t notice.

Bryce hops on to the bed with me and try’s his hardest to navigate a wine opener.

“Geez, I have no clue what I’m doing here…”

I eventually take it and started twisting in. I try to pull it out but struggle.

“Here since you now have all of the muscles.”

He rolls his eyes at me and tugs it out.

“Success!”

“Good team work there he-man,” I say playfully.

Bryce’s pours both of us a glass and at first I thought it tasted awful. But the second glass… now I see why people like it. I feel so warm inside and relaxed.

We both lay back in his bed.

“Is it super weird for you?,” I ask him.

“What?”

“You know… being in your Walkers body.”

“Um… yes. Yes and no I guess. I feel like everything has just moved so quick since the trip. I feel very different in public, like I’m so much more noticed. girls hit on me… so do guys. It’s a lot to take in especially since you and my family are the only ones who know about it.”

“What about Walker’s girlfriend?”

“Oh he broke up with her, thought it would be less weird. Although he had to do it over text because I refused to call or see her in person.”

“Damn! That’s crazy.”

“Yeah but she was like his girlfriend for the month, nothing serious.”

Of course…

“So is this pretty permanent?”

“Yeah I think so, unless you know of any other magic objects than can reverse it haha.”

“No, not off of the top of my head,”I say jokingly.

“Well… that answers your question. This is my body now. This is the new me I guess,” he says looking his muscles over.

I look them over as well and then my eyes draw this briefs… he’s got a hard on…

Bryce catches my eyes and says, “you wanna touch it?”

“What?!?”

“Come on Chase… don’t play games with me. I know you and I know you’ve had the hots for this body. I’ve known for years now.”

I take a deep breath… I feel my nervous all over again.

“It’s okay, I know you like this body. It’s my body now. And I want you to touch my massive dick.”

“But Bryce!”

“Shhh! Chase I’ve had a crush on you for years and I know you would never fool around with me. And now I have the body you’ve been lusting for years now. TOUCH MY MASSIVE DICK PLEASE!”

“Fuck, okay.”

I start touching it from the outside and it does feel huge!

“You know I love you Bryce, you’re the most important person to me. I just never wanted us to loose our friendship. It’s why I never tried anything with you.”

“I know. And listen I know you weren’t trying to go after my brother. I know what he looks like. Everyone does. But now I have the body and the personality so, I’m giving you no choice but to date me. Got it?”

“Ugh fine,” I say rolling my eyes.

“Now can you do me a favor?”

“Sure!”

“Can I see your feet?” he says to me.

Wow! Wasn’t expecting that!

“Wait why?”

“I hope you don’t think this is weird but I have a thing for them.”

“Shut up! So do I!”

“You do?!?”

“Yeah especially…,” I eye down to his feet and wiggles his toes.

“Oh my god! This is about to be a wild night!”

“Wait, can I kiss you?”

“Please!”

Part 2 Coming…

[always-just-red]

Merry Christmas, guys!!! Ok, so this is a day early, but I wanted to say thanks to you all with a feel-good follow-up to my Game Night fic! So, here: a Christmas Eve sleepover with the boys, and they’re on their VERY best behaviour this time, I promise 😌

The Night Before Christmas

L&DS Boys X Reader

(Recommended to read this fic first, if you haven't already!)

Summary: It’s time to get the gang back together!!!

Genre: Fluff + humour

Warnings/Additional Tags: gn!reader, kinda poly? but mostly platonic, a lil bit of wholesome intimacy, one particularly suggestive joke from Sylus (he can’t help himself), also probably needs another proofread but my eyes are tired 💀

| Word count: 4.8k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

“Right! Let’s try this again.”

You glance around your living room with your hands on your hips, channelling your inner Captain Jenna as you fight to suppress flashbacks that verge on traumatic.

Some of this is exactly the same as last time. Sylus is sprawled in the same spot on your couch, looking inordinately pleased with himself for someone who has only just arrived. The very image of smugness; you immediately suspect that something is horribly wrong, or on track to go horribly wrong. You glance to the other couch, where Xavier and Rafayel sit, equally braced for your presentation. Neither one has been teleported to the roof of your building.

Sylus is reading your relief, and he gives you an exclusive smile, as if to say: yet.

Try not to think about it.

You stand by a large drawing pad— currently flipped closed to create a suspense that only Xavier has bought into. He gives you an eager nod, the blue of his eyes warm and encouraging.

The faces around you haven’t changed, but your little apartment has. Strings of twinkling lights run around your walls, casting faint, festive glows. There’s frost on your windows. Littered everywhere are ornaments: small, glittery birds and wintery creatures. Lots of snowman plushies, courtesy of a few, dedicated arcade expeditions with your favourite doctor.

New season, new start.

“We all remember how this went last time,” you push on finally. “Mistakes were made. Shit happened. Whatever— we’re not gonna dwell on it.”

Sylus lifts his hand. “I, for one, would enjoy a reminder of said mistakes.”

“Motion denied,” you dismiss with a grin and a customer-service enthusiasm that screams: don’t fuck with me right now. Sylus’s eyes sparkle, like embers anxious to become something brighter— more destructive. Don’t think about it. “It wasn’t my fault. You outnumbered me four-to-one that night, which is why my first order of business today is to appoint a co-host.”

Rafayel’s hand shoots into the air. You look at him incredulously. Zayne is stood beside you, his arms folded, and everyone else in the room has connected those particular dots.

“It’s Zayne, Rafayel,” you sigh. 

“What?!” He sits up straighter. “Why him?! What are his qualifications, huh? His credentials?”

“I’ve never set the kitchen on fire,” Zayne says.

The artist scoffs, adds under his breath: “Turned it into an ice rink, though.”

There’s a chuckle from Sylus, and a part of you feels bad, pitting Zayne against the others like this. But he’s not alone. He has you, just you, so you should probably do something. “That actually brings me really nicely to my next point, Raf, thank you.”

Unexpected praise. Rafayel stutters, a faint blush to his cheeks, and you take full advantage of having staggered him. “Zayne, do you wanna…?”

“Of course.” The dark-haired man adjusts his glasses, then addresses the rest of the room. “In the interest of everyone’s safety, we have devised a few rules to be adhered to for the rest of the evening. These will be enforced by a point system, which we will record… here.”

He flips the drawing pad open, and a blank table fills the top half of the page. Each quarter has been assigned a name. “Basically—” you gesture to it— “three strikes and you’re out.”

None of your guests look perturbed by this.

“The first rule is simple,” Zayne explains, pulling away a strip of paper from the bottom of the page, then reading the writing underneath: “No unauthorised use of Evols.”

Rafayel’s hand shoots up again. You tilt your head at it. “Yes, Raf?”

“Ok, so what if there’s a power-cut or something? Lights are out. Heating’s out. Big disaster, yeah? You’re saying I couldn’t—?” He clicks his fingers, spawning a small flame.

“We would use my Evol,” Xavier says with the gentle authority he uses to steer civilians away from a Wanderer incursion. “It’s safer.”

The flame is snuffed out. Rafayel huffs: “Don’t you use it to, like, kill things?”

“Yeah…” Xavier shrugs. “Bad things.”

“Second rule!” you chime.  

“Second rule,” Zayne echoes, peeling back the next strip of paper. There’s absolutely no showmanship, nor energy at all as he continues, “No unauthorised sarcasm.”

Another hand raises. “What would be authorised sarcasm?” Xavier asks, squinting as though he can’t quite figure it out on his own.

You purse your lips in thought. “If it makes me laugh?”

Rafayel is stroking his chin, his eyes narrowed, because he’s also thinking. “High risk, high reward,” he muses, and you shoot him a smile.

This is going better than you thought it would, actually. If you were to turn a few more pages of the drawing pad, you would see crude illustrations of the worst-case scenarios you’d sketched out for Zayne earlier. There’s one where Rafayel is trying to strangle Sylus with Christmas lights. There’s another where Zayne has turned you all into snowmen.

Don’t get ahead of yourself, though. The evening is young, and the snowman scenario is still very much on the table.

Culprit of about ninety percent of your nightmarish visions and drawings— Sylus has been unnervingly silent. You meet eyes with him, an inherent mistrust in your gaze. The success of this sweet, humble Christmas Eve hinges on you figuring out what he’s here for. His agenda. His ulterior motives.

What does he want from tonight? He smirks at you. You’re vaguely competent, and you can figure it out without him holding your hand, can’t you?

That reminds you of something. “Zayne.” You jostle your co-host by his arm. “Do the last rule!”

You’re excited about the last rule.

Zayne isn’t; he hesitates. “The last rule…” He rubs at the back of his neck. “It’s… it’s only applicable to you, Sylus.”

Sylus is now also excited about the last rule. You can tell from the way his lips part, for a second, like he wants to tell you just how flattered he is you spend so much of your time thinking about him.

You put Zayne out of his misery, tearing the final strip of paper away from the pad. The paper flutters to the ground like a very plain snowflake, and you wiggle your fingers, adorning the final rule with a touch of pizazz:

No smirking, sass, or general smugness.

A corner of Sylus’s mouth lifts. “Believe it or not, kitten, your little point system doesn’t scare me.”

You pick up the pen and score a mark under his name.

“Oh no,” he mutters lifelessly.

“Sarcasm!” Rafayel coughs.

You’re well ahead of him, already turning to make another mark. “Gods,” you hear Sylus grimace, not much more than a whisper, “you’re such a boy scout.”

There’s a snort from Rafayel. “Sorry, say that again? I couldn’t hear you over the sound of you totally getting kicked out of here.”

“Sarcasm,” Sylus says.

“Wait, I didn’t mean— no!”

You giggle as you issue Rafayel’s first strike, and he groans behind you, slumping down in his seat. When you turn back around, his face is buried in his hands.

Sylus is smirking again, but the expression drops the moment he senses your gaze. You both know what’s at stake here. Back in the N109 Zone, Luke and Kieran are lamenting the fact that you’ve stolen their leader— it’s not very Christmassy of you, after all. There were a lot of things they wanted to do with him. Snowball fights, presents, and a heist that required disguises: Santa and his two, hard-working elves. They already have the suit, custom-made for him.

So here is the big, bad boss of Onychinus, hiding in your apartment, and definitely not smirking.

You pop the lid back onto your pen, then post it into your pocket like you’re holstering an all-powerful weapon. That’s one point to you and Zayne, and zero points to Sylus, thank you very much.

…

“What are you doing?”

Sylus sighs, evading a furious lilac gaze while he focuses on the task at hand. Freshly escaped from you and the doctor’s terrifying lecture, he’s making the most of his liberty.

“What I am doing,” he mumbles, tying string around a sprig of mistletoe, “is between me and our charming host. Run along, little artist.” He tightens the knot. “This doesn’t concern you.”

Rafayel crosses his arms, his eyes dark. “You’re cheating.”

“Ha.” Sylus spares him a glance out of pity. “You’re jealous.”

“Am not.”

He definitely is, but Sylus doesn’t have time for this game. He can hear you in your bedroom, rooting around for the phone charger you’d vanished in search of. Your door isn’t closed, but it’s closed enough. You can’t see him. He can’t see you. What a perfect opportunity.

“Give it to me,” Rafayel says— an interruption that warrants a roll of the eyes.

“No.”

“Give it—“ the artist starts again, then makes a grab for the mistletoe. Now that’s jealousy. He could incinerate the plant with a click of his fingers, but no, he wants it. Covets it.

Sylus chuckles quietly, his arm stretching up: holding the mistletoe out of an ever-more desperate reach.

To Rafayel’s credit, he persists. He goes up on his toes, tugging at the older man’s sleeve to try and drag the mistletoe closer. The plant evaporates in a swirl of dark energy the second he succeeds. It materialises behind Sylus’s back, in his other hand, and Rafayel realises instantly. He tries to stretch his arms around him. To take it from him.

“Absolutely not!”

Sylus’s fingers are suddenly empty. Mistletoe-less. He turns reluctantly, still holding Rafayel back.

You stand at your wide-open door, one hand on your hips and the other clutching his confiscated item. You’re frowning. Tapping your foot. Your lips are pursed adorably.

“What a coincidence, kitten,” Sylus smiles, and behind him, Rafayel pokes his tongue out, overcome with nausea. “I was just thinking about you.”

“Clearly.” You jostle the mistletoe, looking… disappointed? Huh. “Never thought I’d catch you indulging an old cliche.”

Sylus shrugs charmingly, like a cat performing a leisurely stretch after toppling a vase from a very high shelf.

“Give me the rest of it,” you command.

“Hmm?”

“The back-up mistletoe, Sy. I’m not an idiot.”

Sylus scoffs, but you do have him wrapped oh so prettily around your finger. He rolls his neck, stalling. If giving up were a slope, he would already be a heap at the bottom of it, but he doesn’t really mind. Three more sprigs of mistletoe appear from thin air, dropping into your open hands.

“Honestly, Sylus,” you groan, stepping past him. Then you thrust the plants to the artist’s chest. “Burn these, Raf.” You’re dusting your hands down as you walk away.

Sylus frowns. That’s neither ideal nor part of the plan.

Rafayel is looking at him, telling him with gloating silence that there’s no playing diplomat, here— no negotiating the return of the hostages. That bridge has been— rather fittingly— burned. The mistletoe turns slowly to ash: darkened by licks of flame that curl with the eager spite of their master’s lips.

It would be beautiful if it wasn’t so damned inconvenient. When the fire’s had its fun, one sprig of mistletoe remains, rich green and ivory— wholly untouched. You’re across the room, talking to Zayne, so Rafayel smirks in triumph. Tucks his prize into his pocket.

Sylus’s heart sinks with it, but he still smiles back.

…

Rafayel isn’t looking too good.

Well, the Rafayel is looking fine, but your Rafayel? Not so much. You steal a glance at the artist across the cluttered kitchen island; he’s sat, leaning, propped up on his elbows, his eyes glazed— he’s clearly away with the fishies. He catches you staring. Gives you a wink.

You glance down at the gingerbread man you’ve been decorating: the blue-pink of his iced eyes, and the mess of purple hair, at least three shades too dark. Oh, gods— probably a million shades too dark through the gaze of a Lemurian. At least the outfit is cute? You’ve recreated Rafayel’s signature cardigan. The plaid pattern isn’t quite straight, but that was a… deliberate choice. This is your interpretation of his cardigan, and you wanted it to reflect its owner. A little all over the place, but still, you love it. Even when it’s coming undone, it keeps you warm.

“Would you like to go next?”

Zayne is talking to you, smiling at you. He was the first to reveal his gingerbread creation: a miniature Xavier that was surprisingly true to life. Your hunting partner had almost glowed with delight, while you were dark with jealousy. The biscuit sits before you all, boasting details that could only be achieved with an exceedingly steady hand.

Worse: Rafayel’s gingerbread is next to it, stupidly, predictably perfect. It’s Zayne. It’s really Zayne, from the sweep of black hair to the hazel eyes; how on earth did he manage to make that colour? The tiny doctor is dressed in his lab coat, sporting his badge and a pocketful of even tinier pens and medical instruments. There’s… shading? Ugh, you can see the creases in the fabric.

“Umm… sure, I can go next,” you mumble.

It was just your luck, pulling Rafayel’s name out of that hat. Sheepishly, you move aside the cookbook you’d stood to guard your project from any prying eyes. Your gingerbread is nudged forwards.

“That’s me!” Rafayel exclaims.

“Yeah…” you confirm half-heartedly. “Sorry, I know it’s not great, but I—”

Lack the skill of a celebrity artist, or the steady hands of a cardiac surgeon? You have no idea which exact pool of self-pity your sentence was set on drowning within, but it doesn’t matter. Rafayel has plucked your gingerbread up for a closer look, and his smile is enormous. “This is amazing!”

“You don’t have to—”

“That’s my cardigan!” He’s crashing the pity party again. “And look at my eyes— the colours! This little guy is so handsome, yeah? You really did me justice, cutie. Look at him!”

He holds the gingerbread up to his face, trying to match its two-dimensional grin. He looks around for affirmation, and it’s just his luck, because is a single man at this table ever going to insult your hard work?

“The eyes are amazing,” Xavier enthuses. “Like the sky at sunset. Who knew my partner was so talented?”

“I did,” Rafayel chirps happily.

Xavier frowns. “No, it was rhetori— never mind.” He smiles at you. Rolls with it. “I knew too, by the way.”

“As did I,” Zayne adds.

Everyone looks at Sylus, who shrugs a shoulder and says, “It was up for debate.”

“Can we please move onto the next person?” you press. This is all too much attention. “Sylus, can you… please?”

He does like it when you beg, but he likes it even more when he can play knight in shining armour. “My pleasure, sweetie.”

For a man whose creative side is mostly indulged by vintage gun restorations, he reveals his gingerbread with a staggering amount of confidence. It’s placed at the centre of the kitchen island, where you all stare down at it. Its hair is snow-white, and its eyes: blood-red.

“That’s…” Zayne begins.

“That’s you, Sylus!” you take-over, voice shrill with betrayal. “You were supposed to say something if you picked yourself! And you— wait, what are…?” There are distinct lines over the gingerbread’s midriff. It dawns on you: “Are those abs?!”

Sylus shrugs again.

“They so are!” You snatch up the biscuit, standing to wave it in Sylus’s face like a crime-scene photo. “Where’s his shirt, huh?”

“He lost it.”

“Bullshit!” you snap. This gingerbread competition had come with its own set of rules, one of which was very clearly: “Nothing obscene! I said nothing obscene, Sylus!”  

He leans away from you with a tut. “It’s tasteful, sweetie. The artist will tell you.”

“The artist is staying out of this,” Rafayel murmurs, off to your side.

Sylus crosses his arms, regardless, as though his case has been made. You cross your arms too.

“Can I show you my gingerbread now?” Xavier asks, and his tone is deceivingly soft: a hand on your shoulder, pulling you back.

You release the tension in your body with a sigh, then set the gingerbread down so you can’t throw it at Sylus’s un-smug face (which he’s been very careful about.) “Of course, Xavier,” you smile, slinking back onto your stool. You can throw something at Sylus later. “Ooh, is it me? It has to be me, right?”

Xavier chuckles awkwardly. “It’s you. I don’t think it’s very good, though.”

“Show me!” you insist.

The final cookbook is removed, and Xavier unveils his hard work. You clamp a hand to your mouth.

You don’t have a single word for what you’re looking at— only laughter, and you can’t let yourself laugh, no matter what. If that gingerbread is you? Then it’s a you who’s been torn apart by Wanderers, at least seven consecutive times. Your face is a swirl of colours and features— you think Xavier must have tried to wipe it off to start again, more than once, but it hasn’t worked.

The gingerbread has been broken, too. Three of the four limbs, to be exact, and that you could forgive, but… did he have to use dark red icing to glue them back on? It drips out of the joins messily, almost making you wince.

Everyone is silent.

“A perfect likeness,” says Sylus.

You burst out laughing, and the moment you do, Rafayel’s right there with you. Even Sylus caves— it’s one of the most sincere laughs you’ve ever heard from him. There are tears in your eyes; you can’t help it. Zayne is the strongest of you, but even the tight line of his mouth quivers. He’s biting his lip.

But it’s fine. Xavier is laughing, too. “I said it wasn’t very good!”

“Xavier!” you wheeze. You can’t even look at him. Your stomach hurts. “What… what happened to me?!”

“What do you mean?” he practically giggles.

“What do I mean?” you repeat, and it tips you into another breathless bout of laughter. You go to point at the gingerbread— all the explanation you need— but it almost kills you. You really can’t breathe. After half a minute, you try again. “I look like I’ve been in an accident!”

“Here,” Rafayel grins, and he slides the Doctor Zayne gingerbread over to poor, suffering gingerbread you.

“Aww!” you smile, having finally caught your breath.

Wordlessly, Zayne retrieves his likeness— pulling it away from yours. You frown at him, as confused and wounded as Xavier apparently imagines you. “Even I have my limits,” the doctor shrugs.

That’s it. You’re gone again, your sides aching as your whole body shakes with laughter. It’s too much. Gods, it’s too much. You’re gonna need another minute.

…

“I can’t believe you made you.”

It’s been fifteen or so minutes, and you toy with Sylus’s gingerbread counterpart, pinching his hands between your thumbs and forefingers— making him walk (well, penguin waddle) across the kitchen island.

“Believe it, sweetie,” Sylus huffs with a smile.

“Is this really how you see yourself?”

Before you can walk the gingerbread any further, his creator plucks him up by his head, away from your reaching fingers. “It’s how I think you should see me,” he chuckles. He holds the gingerbread out to you. Wiggles it. “For your eyes only, kitten.”

“Except the other guys saw it—”

“Shhhh, shh shh!” In his haste to silence you, he almost pushes the gingerbread to your lips.

You glare at him. Complain from behind it: “Get your shirtless abs out of my face, Sylus.”

“Make me.”

You snatch the gingerbread, pinning it down on the counter. “Keep pushing your luck, Sy. Wanna see what’ll happen?”

He absolutely does, and his eyes glint with mirth as you reach for a near-empty bowl of crimson icing. You scrape some of it up with a discarded teaspoon, then let it drip generously over his gingerbread. It takes a few, long seconds to really cover him in it. To make him look as fatally tragic as gingerbread you.

“Here,” you say, dropping the spoon in a bowl with a satisfied clink. You hold out the gingerbread. “This’ll be you when I’m done with you.”

Sylus regards it for a moment, his eyebrow quirked. Then his eyes find your gingerbread likeness. “Want to see what you’ll look like when I’m done with you?”

His hand goes out for the bowl of red icing, except… it goes past the bowl of red icing, and lands on a tube of white icing instead. He holds it up with a smile.

“Inappropriate.”

The tube is swept out of his fingers, and he blinks at the empty space, legitimately surprised.

“It was snow, doctor,” he remarks bitterly, once he’s recovered from the second ambush of the evening. He glances over his shoulder. “From a snowball fight?”

“Sure it was,” Zayne mutters, already turning back to the bowl he’s washing in the sink.

Sylus is frowning, affronted, but the expression softens when you’re filling his gaze again. You: your hands on your mouth, so close to spilling laughter. “Oooooh,” you tease with a secretive sing-song voice, “you got in trouble!”

He wrinkles his nose like ‘trouble’ is an insult. It sets you off sniggering uncontrollably.

“What did I miss?”

It’s Xavier, back from the lounge.

“Nothing,” Sylus answers.

“He got in trouble!” you counteract with a not-at-all quiet whisper.  

You earn a glare from the criminal, and a little laugh from the hunter. “Third-strike trouble?” the latter enquires. He might have handcuffs on stand-by; it wouldn’t surprise you.

“Not yet,” you grin cheerfully.  

Zayne sets a plate on the drying rack. “Give it time.”

…

“I don’t think we have enough, sweetie,” Sylus quips, peeking over the stack of blankets you’ve piled high on his arms. 

What was it Rafayel said? High risk, high reward? You mercifully chuckle. Your arms are wrapped around three, plush cushions— the last of your sleepover supplies. Snacks? Are ready. Guests? Haven’t killed each-other yet. You toe open your bedroom door, shouldering the rest of the way through with your missing puzzle pieces of luxury.

“Oh, nice!” someone exclaims from the kitchen. Xavier is watching you, starry-eyed, and his cheeks are full; he’s midway through a cookie.

Sylus steps through the door behind you, issuing a faint noise of disgust. He sounds like he’s being attacked by a bug, so you turn around, ready to leap to the rescue. He’s stood within the door frame, eyes cast upwards to where a sprig of mistletoe hangs on the end of a string. It’s swaying gently; he must have caught his head on it. You frown, lips parted. He was with you the whole time you were looting your bedroom. When did he…? How did he…?

He looks down at you, the mistletoe still hovering above him. You raise an eyebrow, waiting for the inevitable joke, or the even more inevitable invitation. 

“I…’ he starts gingerly, “I didn’t…” 

Oh. He’s just as confused as you are, and it’s… really cute. He’s lost for words— the man who came here with not one, but four sprigs of mistletoe. The man who threatened your gingerbread with white icing. The man who’s spent the entire evening thinking about how he wants to be close to you.

Sylus laughs, but it’s full of nervousness. “It’s alright,” he says, “you don’t have to—”

You tilt him towards you, your hand on his shoulder and cushions around your feet. “Merry Christmas, Sy,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his cheek. It’s warm on your lips.

His eyes flutter closed. “Merry Christmas,” he breathes, barely more than a whisper. 

You hum contentedly as you pull away from him. When his eyes reopen, they’re warm with a nostalgia you cannot explain, but you can feel, too— so inexplicably. His gaze is blood-red, but it makes you think of flowers. 

What a funny feeling. It strikes you a lot, nowadays, and not just with the man in front of you. 

Speaking of the others, you glance towards your lounge. Xavier is telling Zayne a story, and Rafayel is watching you from over the back of the sofa— turning away when you spot him. That’s one mystery solved. You collect the cushions from the floor, sparing Sylus a smile before you meander back to your party. The coffee table’s a banquet of sweet, sugary snacks, so you carefully skirt past it.

Xavier’s hands grab at air. You laugh and toss him a cushion. “Thanks,” he grins. 

“Here— your favourite.” Zayne is pointing at your freshly-filled mug, and you grin your own thank you as you settle down next to him. 

Sylus soon arrives too, handing out blankets, and for all the evening’s animosity, he gets a grateful smile for each. He sits down next to Xavier, and it’s odd, you know? You’ve slain Wanderers, saved lives with every person around you. You’ve seen them bleed and kill.

They’re all wrapping themselves up, like snuggly little Christmas presents. Xavier’s managed to collect another cushion— from Zayne, maybe?— and he’s practically building a fort on his side of the couch. Some of it infringes on Sylus’s space, and you notice him notice, but he doesn’t say a word. Oblivious, tucked under two blankets, Xavier’s already looking sleepy. 

Someone’s making less of an effort to get comfortable. On the other side of you, Rafayel sits, uncharacteristically quiet. He hasn’t met your eyes since you sat down. You remember him, watching you under the mistletoe from across the room, and the thought has you leaning in closer. 

“That was sweet of you,” you whisper, even though he disobeyed you. 

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” he shrugs.

But he does, so you kiss his cheek, ever so fondly, with that funny feeling in your chest again. It’s the first time, but it doesn’t strike you as such. Uncharted waters, a foreign land— when have I been here before?

Rafayel has relaxed: sunken deep into the sofa and the security of your touch. You smile, pulling his blanket up higher around him— tighter around him— until he’s as much of a cocoon as everyone else. His lips curve with a smile of surrender, ever-willingly captured. Silly fish. 

You draw away from him, readjusting in your seat until you’re cuddled up next to Zayne. You don’t see the wink Rafayel shoots Sylus, or the look of begrudging respect in the latter’s red eyes. 

“Are you comfortable?” Zayne asks, head angling towards yours. 

Co-host to co-host. “Yeah.” You snuggle closer to him. “This is kinda perfect, isn’t it?” He feels cold, despite his Sylus-issued blanket, so you lend him part of yours.

“No,” he confers softly, distractedly. 

“No?”

“No.” He gives you a look, and you know it as intimately as the chill of his hands and the warmth of his heart. His ‘I know something that you don’t’ look. Sure enough, he says: “I think it’s missing something.” 

On the other sofa, Xavier is beaming at you, having caught onto your conversation. It’s suspicious— harmless conspiracy, surprise-party sort of suspicious, but your pulse still picks up. 

“Close your eyes,” Zayne instructs. 

And you do, without question. Darkness, yes, but you’re under his care, aren’t you? There’s no anxiousness in your excitement, just trust for the man who was looking out for you long before he was your doctor. Your hands are over your eyes and you’re younger, again, playing hide-and-seek, again.

Zayne’s is a familiarity you can place. A nostalgia built on memories, not reveries.

Something icy touches your hand, then melts without any resistance. 

“Open,” Zayne prompts, leaning against you to stir you. 

Your apartment has changed again. The lights are all out, save for the fairy lights. The spectrum of colours flicker from the walls and the tree, catching on tiny, white specs in the air. Snowflakes are drifting down, impossibly. Falling, dancing— maybe a bit of both. You look up and some land on your face, cold with their kisses. You giggle in delight. 

Everyone’s gaze is on the ceiling: sapphire, emerald, amethyst, ruby. It ought to be dark. Instead, an entire night sky fills the space above you, scattered with thousands of stars. Every pinprick is deliberate. Meticulously placed. There are constellations— infinite patterns that transcend every life you might’ve lead, and every life you’ll ever lead (if you believe in that sort of thing.)

Xavier glances at you, and you forgo the spell of his masterpiece so that you can glance back. Snowflakes are in his hair, dusting him with sparkles. He smiles in a way you think could defy lifetimes, too. 

“This is… really something,” Sylus says, and there’s not a hint of sarcasm. 

It’s everything. The stars, brighter for darkness. The snow, only novel in warmth. These things don’t always work— they’ll undo each-other, overpower each-other, but there’s an ultimate balance, in-between every conflict. An occasional harmony, and it’s… 

Perfect. 

Rafayel scoots close to you. “Was this authorised?” he whispers. 

You look over to the point board, where there are first strikes beneath Zayne and Xavier’s names, and you don’t know how long they’ve been there. 

“No,” you laugh tenderly. “No, it wasn’t.”

[drunkinyourbenz]

can you do a billie with reader who has her period and it feels like literal hell please?

୨ৎ whatever you need. b.e

୨ৎ billie eilish x fem!reader

୨ৎ genre: fluff

୨ৎ content: period cramps (obviously), overwhelmed reader, established relationship, this is soooo fluffy and billie's big on physical affection!!

୨ৎ note: anon baby u read my mind my period started today and ugh it’s literal hell so writing this came sooo naturally to me because this is exactly what i need rn (cried while writing this i'm so so emotional) i tried very hard not to make it super specific to my experiences so this is basically my morning minus my specific symptoms and plus billie!! i hope this brings u some much needed comfort baby, we're in this together <3

when you woke up, the sun was barely even peeking through the curtains, and your room was still bathed in darkness. you reached for your phone, groaning at the bright screen and rubbing your bleary eyes. two am, that’s what your phone read. that’s when it hit you, the sharp pain in your lower abdomen, a pain so intense you had no idea how you hadn’t noticed it straight away. you groaned, rolling over in bed and burying your head in your pillow, squeezing your eyes shut. your nails dug into your palms, anything to distract you from the constant excruciating pain you were feeling. 

after about half an hour, you dragged yourself out of bed. you trudged into the kitchen, where you ate half a mandarin before taking some pain medication. the meds didn’t tend to work, but you’d do anything to think you were making it better. you managed to force yourself to take a quick shower, just to freshen up. after the shower, you got changed into one of billie’s oversized t-shirts and some shorts, and you collapsed back into your bed. you were well aware that you should get yourself a heating pad, but you didn’t have the energy. 

after about half an hour of laying there with your legs hugged halfway to your chest, begging for the cramps to just disappear magically, you remembered something. today was a day where billie had a big surprise date planned out for you, and you really didn’t want to be a buzzkill, but… 

you grabbed your phone again, going straight to billie’s contact. you typed out a few messages, deleting them over and over again, before finally settling on one. 

hi baby, i’m so sorry i don’t think i can make our date 

it didn’t take long for billie to respond, and just over a minute later, you had a new text from her. there was no disappointment or frustration in the message, just concern.

bils: you okay angel? it’s 3am?

you stared at the text for a moment before responding simply.

eh, cramps. 

that time, her response was instant. you could picture the concerned expression on her face, and you were hit with a wave of adoration for her. she just cared so much. 

bils: aw baby, i’m coming over rn, okay??

no bils it’s 3am you don’t have to don’t wanna be a bother 

bils: please, u could never bother me bils: i’m coming over, end of story

you pouted softly, overwhelmed with love for her. 

i love you

bils: i love you more bils: anything you need me to bring?

just you and maggie’s baking if u have any

bils: ofc ofc i’m omw mama

before you knew it, billie had gotten to your place. you heard your front door open, she had a spare key that she used once in a while in situations like this or when you weren’t home. you heard her soft footsteps approaching your room, and soon enough your door opened and she walked in. she had on some sweatpants and a baggy hoodie, and a bag in her hands. 

“hi, angel.” she walked up to your bed, leaning down and kissing your forehead. her voice was soft and soothing, and you were reminded then that you could literally just listen to her talk for hours on end.

you opened your mouth to speak, but she continued talking before you could. “i brought some of mum’s cookies, you can have as many as you want. anything you need? can i get you a heating pad or some tea? what about pain meds?”

in reality, all you wanted was to curl up in bed to her and cling to her like she was your lifeline, but you knew that a heating pad would be the wise decision. so you nodded, “i’ve taken my pain meds, but a heating pad would be nice…”

billie quickly left the room and grabbed you a heating pad, passing it to you so you could put it wherever was most comfortable. she looked like she was about to ask what else you needed, so you bet her to it. you opened your arms up, holding them out for her and pouting up at her from the bed. a smile spread across her lips, and she didn’t waste time climbing under the covers with you and wrapping her arms around you. her fingers found your hair, and she let them gently brush through it. 

your head nuzzled into the crook of billie’s neck as you closed your eyes, fiddling with the edge of her hoodie to try and distract yourself from the pain. you could feel her eyes on you, and after a long moment, you lifted your head from where you’d hidden it. “i’m sorry ‘bout our date. i know you planned it all out.” your voice came out in a mumble, muffled against billie’s shoulder. 

she kept stroking your hair softly, “don’t apologise, baby. it’s totally out of your control. plus, there’ll be other days we can reschedule it to. i’d rather you be at home and comfortable.” she paused to press a kiss to the top of your head. “i love you, and i’d go wherever you asked, even at 3am. you’re not burdening me with anything, i promise.” 

you could already feel yourself getting overwhelmed with emotions at her sweet words, another thing that your period often caused. you groaned softly, burying your head back into the crook of her neck. “shut up, i’ll cry if you keep being so cute.”

billie just giggled, pressing another kiss to the top of your head, then your forehead, then your nose. “love youuu!” she said in a singsong voice, clearly trying to distract you from the fact that the date couldn’t go ahead. 

you knew that she was trying to take your mind off it, and you didn’t mind. it was reassuring that she was happy just to be there with you. the two of you spent a while just cuddled up together, when another wave of cramps hit. your cramps were constant, but some definitely worse than others. you groaned under your breath, your grip subconsciously tightening on the hem of billie’s hoodie.

she looked down at you, asking again with that ever so soothing voice. “need anything, angel?” 

you simply hummed, trying your best not to just double over in pain and not speak for the rest of the day. after a moment, you mumbled, “herbal tea? and maggie’s cookies?” 

billie leaned down and kissed your forehead, “at your service.” 

she spoke with a small playful grin on her face, and slipped out of the bed. she returned a few minutes later, a mug of lavender tea in her hands and a plate of maggie’s cookies. after placing those on your bedside table, she reached for her bag, pulling out another hoodie. it was one of the ones she wore most, and therefore also one of the ones that you wore most. you were the hoodie thief of the relationship, and billie certainly didn’t mind—if anything, she encouraged it. 

she slipped the hoodie over your head, and you let out a sigh when her smell enveloped you. it smelt like a mix of her perfume and that one moisturiser she used every single day and loved more than life itself. you hummed in satisfaction, “this one’s my favourite.”

billie chuckled, slipping your arms into the hoodie. “trust me, i’m well aware.”

she held the mug of tea up to your lips so you could take a sip, and she felt her heart warm at the small smile that spread across your lips. 

soon, billie slipped back into bed with you. the cramps were still tearing you apart from the inside and you still felt like absolute hell, but at least she was there with you—that made it a tiny bit better. 

the next half hour passed in a comfortable silence, the only movements being billie giving you a gentle kiss or stroking your hair. it didn’t take long, however, for a thought that you had pushed from your frustrated mind to return. it lingered there, clawing at your brain until you finally spoke. 

“i hate that this happened so close to christmas. i still have presents to wrap. i had so much i needed to do, and now i’m just–” 

“i can wrap your presents.” billie’s calming voice cut through the mess of thoughts in your brain, and you fell silent—only for a moment, though. 

“but–” 

“shhh, baby. no buts. i’ll wrap any presents that aren’t for me. i want to help you, yeah?” 

a pout made it’s way to your lips, “you’re too good to me. i can wrap maggie’s and—” 

“angel, i’m not going to tell my family what you got them. just let me help you, yeah?” 

after a long pause, you relented. “...yeah. thank you.” billie smiled, kissing your forehead once again and squeezing your hand. “It’s nothing. i’ll stay with you today: wrap your presents, make a nice warm dinner, run you a bath, and cuddle you to sleep.” 

at that, your heart practically melted. you weren’t sure if it was the period making you extra emotional or just the love you held in your heart for her. you were so full of adoration for this girl, you had no idea how she managed to be so completely and utterly perfect. she knew you like the back of her hand, she knew just how to make your day better, she knew just how to bring that smile to your face. sometimes you swore she knew you better than you knew yourself. 

you spoke again, your voice soft. “what did i ever do to deserve someone as perfect as you?” 

billie smiled and kissed your forehead again. “you deserve all the good things in the world, my beautiful girl. i’m just lucky to be one of them.”

[starlighttsv]

Day 5

Merry Christmas Baby - p.b

Sum: reader surprises Paige for Christmas during Christmas break

Warnings: just fluff

Note: Merry Christmas Eve to all who celebrate 🫶

Pair: Paige x longdistancegf!reader

Wc: 1.2k

Requested by @rosemariiaa lmk if there is anything you want added or changed

My masterlist

“Ma’am, Ma’am we’re landing ” you’re shaken awake by the sweet old lady sitting next to you “mm thank you ma’am” you groan out sleepily starting to sit up and stretch “is this your first time flying?” She asks you while you’re situating yourself in your seat. “No. Me and my girlfriend are long distance so we always fly to each other when we can.” She nods “is this your first time?” You ask back while the plane starts going down “No. just my first time without my husband, he’s already in Minnesota with our family” you nod and before you can reply she asks another question “Does your girlfriend know your coming? Or is it a surprise?”

“It’s a surprise. Her dad and step mom are helping me pull it off” she nods saying “that’s so sweet, I remember when me and my husband were young and doing long distance. It is hard and challenging but if you both really want it then it’s not impossible.” “Thank you, we’re trying.” She nods and gives you a pat on your arm, starting to stand up as the plane has landed “it was nice talking to you, I hope you and your girlfriend have a very merry Christmas!”

“You too! Merry Christmas to you and your family!” You replied back also starting to stand up so you can get your carry-on, she smiles at you and says thank you. You both eventually end up walking off the plane and making your way to baggage claim. You’ve been texting Bob since you got off the plane as he was gonna be the one to pick you up, he said Moe took Paige to the mall so they could do some Christmas shopping

Once you got your luggage you started making your way to the area bob said he was. When you see him you immediately start walking a little faster, hugging him once you reached him

“Hey! How was your flight?” He questions while hugging you back “good, long though.” He laughs “well yeah, you just flew from Boston to Minnesota. Figured we could go get some food and then take you back home, Moe just texted saying they’re just entering the last store for today.”

You nod agreeing to what he just said “I’m starving so I’m good with this plan.” He just chuckles and takes your suitcase from you, leading you out of the airport and to the car

You guys have just gotten back to the house after eating and now are trying to hurry and figure out the best way to do the surprise. “What if I left my bags out in the living room or by the front door and went up to her room, and you told her a guest made it a few days earlier then Christmas and that she’s sharing her room with said guest, and then ask her to bring my bags up to her room and then she’ll see me?”

“Yeah that could work-“ he gets cut off hearing a car pull into the drive way “go hide!” He tells you making you run up the stairs and into Paige’s room. You lay down on her bed and go on your phone, you hear the front door open and then some talking - when you hear Paige start coming up the stairs you put your phone down and look at the door waiting for her to come in.

When she knocks on the door you don’t answer making her think the guest that her father would not tell her who was asleep, giving her the go ahead to open the door and put the bags against the wall. She starts walking out of the door so you quickly knock down her water bottle that was on her nightstand to make her look in your direction and when she does she gasps and her eyes widen

“Wait-“ she cuts herself off “hey baby!” When you say that it’s like her brain unfreezes cause she’s immediately running towards the bed and jumping on you. You laugh hugging her back.

“How’d you get here? When’d you get here? What?” She says fully shocked that you’re even here “Bob and Moe helped me pay for my flights, and we had just gotten to the house when you and Moe pulled in.” She just looks at you surprised “she’s one of your Christmas presents by the way. Flights during Christmas are extremely expensive” Bob says in the doorway of her room jokingly

She just turns her head still laying on you “ that’s fine, she’s the greatest gift I could’ve gotten” Bob just shakes his head amusingly and leaves the doorway heading back downstairs.

“How long are you here?” She asks turning back to you “3 weeks” you can tell she’s confused but excited that your gonna be here that long “two of the weeks are my winter break and I’m taking a week off of school so I can see some of your basketball games” she doesn’t say anything and instead just hugs you shoving her face in your neck “I love you so much” she mumbles into you

“I love you more” you say kissing her on her forehead. She shakes her head and lifts her head away from your neck so it’s hovering over your face “not possible” she mumbles over your lips, immediately kissing you after saying that

It’s now Christmas morning, Paige had woken up a few minutes ago and started playing with your hair and kissing you all over your face trying to wake you up.

Now you’re laying your head on her chest with one arm draped across her stomach drawing random shapes on her stomach while she fiddles with the ends of your hair

“I can’t wait to spend these 3 weeks with you.” Paige mumbles into your hair. You just lean up and give her a few kisses “I love you” you mumble against her “and I love you” she pulls you back in to the kiss

You both pull away after a few seconds “Drew’s gonna be storming in here in about 3 minutes” Paige says making you laugh a little bit “then I guess we should get up” you say looking at her making her groan out and pull you into her more “I just want to lay in bed and cuddle with you” she pouts “well we can cuddle on the couch?” She just groans but starts getting up from the bed

She helps you get up and then you both walk out the door immediately seeing Drew on his way to Paige’s room - making him stop in his tracks for a minute before he runs up to both of you grabbing both of your hands and “pulling” you guys to the living room

You and Paige sit on the love seat while everyone else sits on the couch or the floor, Bob starts passing out the presents with everyone opening theirs. Once the gifts are opened and the food is eaten everyone decided to watch a movie before we all had to get dressed.

Your laying your head on Paige’s chest again with her still fiddling with the ends of your hair, while you focus on the Christmas movie playing right now

“Merry Christmas baby” Paige whispers in your ear

[spacexgrl]

Bittersweet ! 💋

mdni <3 you’re here pt 8

series masterlist 🍒

~ in which Ellie breaks up with you and you go a little crazy ~

ex! ellie williams x fem! reader , abby anderson x fem! reader

college au!

warnings: SMUT!!! angst, break up, cheating,cursing, toxic behavior, smut in future chapters, sexual themes<3 feminine and girly reader ,not proof read!!

taglist: pls comment if you want to be added! <3 @elliessweetheart @lonelyfooryouonly @vamp1reg1rrrl @autisticintr0vert @amsxdoll @addthespaghetti @hemmo01 @elliecoochieeater @to-the-stray-dogs @teenagemoonharmony @velvetcakegirlie @kl1q @cirrusdoll @icedsimpsayo @softrosekisses @bbnbhm @5sos @hopelesssheaven

The short drive to the restaurant was so fucking shitty already oh and don’t get her started on the fight that ellie had with dina while getting ready. She recalled that annoying voice of her girlfriend screaming and nagging at her for her outfit even though it was the most formal thing she owned…it had a meaning also but dina absolutely hated it ellie are you serious? you can’t wear that it’s like 40 years old what will my family think?! Ellie rolled her eyes and ignored her comments, she didn’t give a flying fuck it was a perfectly fine outfit and she looked so good in her newest pair of black pants, a white button up shirt and Joel’s old jacket that he gifted Ellie because it didn’t fit him anymore..(it was from his young years he saved it for her!)

she remembered when you surprised her with sewing it tighter so it fit her properly! She can’t stop looking at the small detail you also left for her..your initials sewed on the inside of her right sleeve by her wrist..in a delicate baby blue color..she let out a heavy sigh on the passenger seat of dina’s car, her head glued on the window not daring to take a look at her girlfriend..she insisted on driving not wanting her family to see her get into Joel’s beat up truck ellie please i’ll drive..not planning to drink anyway..my family can’t see me get into your old ass truck at this point ellie just accepted that she’ll never meet the expectations of her girlfriends family..thank god dina’s driving because ellie would’ve driven into a tree on full speed wouldn’t survive without a drink or two..

that’s when her mind wandered to her first meeting with your parents it was a hot summer night you and ellie spent the entire day outside got some ice cream and forced ellie to tan with you..which resulted in a big sunburn on her back..it was painful as fuck but she didn’t care because she just had so much fun with you besides you took care of her sunburn for the next few days so she didn’t complain…later that day you invited her for dinner with your family it was a barbecue in your backyard your dad busy with everything that was on the grill he always placed extra meat on ellie’s plate so she can get big and strong as she commented that she just started working out..your mom giggled don’t eat too much from the grill i still have dessert in the fridge! and it was the best tiramisu she’s ever eaten in her entire life

..that night she also stayed at your house..you stayed up until you could see the beautiful sunrise from your balcony..your eyes were glued to the beautiful scenery in front of you but ellie’s eyes never left you..the way the sunlight kissed your nose and spread all over your face making you look like the angel you were and still are today..if the sun was a person it would always be you. ellie look the sunrise is so pretty! your smile almost blinded her because it was so beautiful and bright under the golden light..yeah it’s pretty..but you’re prettier…

Ellie woke up from her daydream as dina parked the car, heart heavy in her chest as she replayed the memories of you in her head..rethinking about what she could’ve had if she hadn’t been a total asshole..in moments like these she’d smoke a blunt or/and ‘pop’ an edible as she’d always say..(depending on how horrible she’s feeling) ever since you broke up her consumption habits have increased..she couldn’t even remember the last day that she was fully sober..but she wanted to make a good first impression today right? she regretted staying sober so bad

Ellie and Dina got into the restaurant silently, the friendly waiter walked them to their table with freshly baked bread, olive oil and red wine vinegar..ellie munched mindlessly on a piece of bread and burned her tongue while they waited for her family to arrive, still in complete silence…as she was about to give some lame ass excuse to go outside to smoke an emergency cigarette she had in her pockets (just in case she needed to calm herself down) Dina’s family arrived , not noticing you and abby right behind them.

here goes nothing

💫

you were blown away by the restaurant, you couldn’t even believe that it was a real place..it was on the highest floor of a tall building surrounded by big windows allowing you to see your city from above..you could see every single light and movement of the night it was really beautiful.

“ahh yes miss anderson! It’s a pleasure to have you and your beautiful lady here, please follow me i’ll lead you to your table.”

you and abby thanked him and took a seat.

“would you like a bottle of our finest vino tinto? i can also get you champagne or something from our variation of cocktails?”

both of you looked through the menu and decided that you wanted to share an appetizer, then you moved on to the main course, convincing abby to choose something you wanted to try too so you can share.

“i’m the driver today so i’ll take a sparkling water with lemon please and no dessert for me”

the waiter nodded as he selected her choices on his electronic device then he turned in your direction.

“i’ll take a frozen strawberry daiquiri and a matcha crème brûlée for dessert please”

he thanked you two and moved on to the other tables.

Ellie’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets by her starstruck expression as she spotted you and anderson. The way you held onto her bicep as you walked to your table made her blood boil, the fake smile she put on her face fell almost immediately. The fact that you looked like a model in your pretty dress and obviously new designer shoes didn’t make it any better. You looked like someone out of a movie..you looked like abby’s trophy wife and it hurt so fucking bad how perfect you looked together.

Ellie’s sadness quickly turned into pure disgusting jealousy as abby pulled her sleeves up to her elbows, exposing her obnoxiously shiny rolex and her stupid toned and veiny underarms. She observed how you drooled over her, biting your lip and giving her those bedroom eyes Ellie used to receive…as if you’d fuck her right there and then and she hated it she hated every second of it..

or did she?

Ellie started losing herself in her thoughts again..the voices of dina and her family slowly fading away as her mind wandered while her eyes were focused on you..suddenly you stood up and climbed onto the table, now you were on all fours moving towards abby until you were eye to eye with your noses touching..abby was already unbuttoning her shirt, exposing her chest.. the way you arched your back made her head spin it only got worse as you proceeded to crash your lips on abby‘s, devouring her mouth with your wet tongue while biting and sucking on her lower lip..

you let go of her and got on the ground again, you slipped your dress right off of your shoulders..red fabric pooling right by your ankles leaving you in nothing but your expensive designer heels. Ellie was a drooling mess she could cum from the sight alone..jesus fuck she cursed under her breath as you undressed abby, revealing her big navy strap on underneath her slacks..she took a seat on the table with you on top of her facing your backside..her rough hands grabbed onto your waist and picked you up..hovering your asshole on top of her lubed up cock..giving ellie a perfect view of your fucked out face while spreading your legs open..your dripping pussy on perfect display.

“abby fuck my ass please! yesyes fuck just like that-ah!” you begged for abby as she lowered your body down on her length..your tight walls swallowing her whole as she moved you up and down..Ellie’s eyes almost missed the way you mouthed ‘come here’ as she ogled your bouncing tits…your pornographic moans filled the entire room but the other guests acted like you weren’t there..Ellie didn’t give a fuck she needed to be inside you now..she hurriedly got up from her chair and undressed immediately on her short way to your table where you were being fucked in the ass by abby..as she unbuttoned her pants she revealed the strap she was suddenly wearing herself..it’s so thick and your favorite shade of pink..god she remembered how much you loved it when she fucked you with that one..ellie positioned herself in between yours and abby’s spread legs..she teased your drooling hole with her tip and grabbed your jaw “beg for me slut” your eyes proceed to water yes you loved the way abby split your ass open but you needed ellie you needed more “ellie baby please fuck my pussy! a-ah i’ll do anything just stuff me daddy!”

your breath hitched when ellie held both of your legs open as she slammed her hips into your cunt..every time her fat tip dragged across your sweet spot you could see stars the sensation of your holes being abused and filled at the same time sent you into an entire different dimension you were about to squirt everywhere if they kept going like this!!

“god ellie just like that! so fucking good baby! gonna cum so hard oh-!”

she loved when you screamed her name

“ellie! ellie!”

you sneaked your arms around her neck and pulled her into a heated kiss, teeth colliding as you tried to kiss her harder and harder while the familiar sensation of an orgasm approached

“ellie ‘m gonna-“

snap!

“earth to ellie? your food’s getting cold”

Ellie woke up from her second daydream of the day with uncomfortably drenched boxers as dina snapped her fingers in her face, seemingly disappointed in her girlfriend’s inattentive and distracted behavior..she quickly figured that it had to do with you..of fucking course it’s always your fault for appearing in the same places as ellie all the damn time..dina rolled her eyes as she looked in your direction nausea creeping up from her stomach as she studied how flawlessly perfect you looked..there’s no way ellie could get over you..the sting of jealousy that appeared on her heart was starting to turn into defeat..not knowing how long she can put up with ellie anymore ..she loved her she truly did but there’s just no way that ellie could love her the way she loves you..and deep down she knows that you’re not one to blame..dina wants to despise you so fucking bad but she can’t..she was the reason why your relationship with ellie fell apart after all and she’s developing feelings of pure guilt..she wished she could apologize to you but she’ll never have the guts to do so..and to be completely honest? you don’t want to hear shit out of her fucking mouth because it’s not her job to clean up after ellie’s mistakes..you’re not having any of that.

“yeah sorry needed to let it cool down for a bit”

ellie said quietly while taking a bite of her cold ass food..following with an extremely awkward silence until talia picked up a conversation with her again..eager to know all about her sister’s new lover girl..praying that she could be the one for her..

if she only knew..

💫

you and abby had a fantastic night..your meals were absolutely delicious but the cocktails were definitely your favorites! you were on number three by now abby noticed that you got more chatty the more alcohol you consumed and she found it really cute..she could stare at you and listen to your random rambling for hours to no end..right now you were telling her about you dream designer bags she had her phone by her lap and put them into her shopping cart to surprise you with two or three bags soon..she prayed to god that her dad wasn’t checking her bank account history..

“wanna head back home, baby? i’m craving some dessert right now..”

🎀

to be continued!!

[tuesdayiminlove]

happy disaster

rockstar!eddie x fem!waitress!reader (imperfect for you universe)

summary: how you two meet

author's note: an ask about how they met came earlier today and i couldn't help myself lol. not proofread sorry! also this could be read as a standalone! but u can read the og part here! hope u guys enjoy lmk what yall think xoxo

word count: 3.1k

You’ve had your fair share of jobs throughout the last few years, trying to make ends meet while also being a consumer of the various cute things you see when you’re at the mall with your friends. One time (and this may have been one of the more miserable experiences), you worked as a receptionist for an auto shop (get it now?)).

Needless to say, you were at the bottom of the hierarchy at that whole joint. When you weren’t answering calls and taking hyperspecific notes to not confuse the actual mechanics, you were practically shunned from the moment you stepped up from your seat and onto the street to eat your lunch at the bench outside. And whenever your lips did part to make even the simplest of comments, the men either laughed at you or made you feel stupid (“You guys hired me! Clearly I’m not a fucking idiot!” you dreamt of saying, but you were just never one for the dramatics and confrontation of it all).

And, the worst part, on days you couldn’t go into work, none of the other receptionists would switch with you.

(“Sorry, babe, I just can’t,” you remember Joey Warner staying after taking a drag of his cig, coughing mere seconds later from not exhaling immediately. You wanted to take the cigarette between your fingers, toss it down, and squish it with your shoes. You really needed to pick up your brother from school, and no one at the shop is ever up Joey’s ass since he’s a guy.

“Oh. It’s alright.” You curse yourself and your lack of ever wanting conflict, because you’re more than positive that this boy deserves a beating for not taking the reins for an hour just so that your poor baby brother won’t have to wait on the cold sidewalk for your mom, who is forty minutes late.

You walk back into the shop without another word.)

So. yeah, call this mechanic memory useless, but now it's clear that your jobs have been absolute dog shit in the past.

But being a waitress at Carly’s Diner, in comparison, takes the cake in the coworker camaraderie contest.

Like, now, you’re enjoying your break with Carrie, splitting half a cupcake that Jim managed to slip into your guys’ hands when he was pulling the fresh desserts from the oven. You two have turns at it, taking nimble bites from the vanilla confection and wiping rainbow sprinkles off your uniform in the process. Your nose blends in the smell of the cupcake and Carrie’s sweet perfume, leaving a little bubble where you can hardly tell what the boys in the kitchen are whipping up right now.

Judy passes through the doors in a haste, heaving before setting her eyes on you two. The notepad in her hands is crumpled up and her hair looks all over the place, eyes bewildered as she stalks towards you and Carrie, a complan ready to spill from her red lips. 

“This fucking couple on table three is driving me nuts! Nuts!” She slumps her back against the wall and swipes a piece of frosting off the cupcake before sticking it in her mouth, sighing in relief.

“Hey,” Carrie swats Judy’s hand, “watch the cupcake!” She places it behind her back possessively.

Carrie is nearly six months pregnant and craving every sweet treat Jim has to offer in between tables and shifts. It’s a miracle that she let you split the dessert with her just now, “And table three, you said?”

Judy ignores her earlier words and nods. “I swear to God, I don’t understand your goddamn generation and why you heaps are so fucking rude. I can't do this.”

“Don’t group us with those weirdos,” says Carrie. “And I’d like to see them be rude to a pregnant woman. Protect this,” she hands you the cupcake carefully, looking at you in the eyes with intent, “and I mean it.”

Her voice is so determined, you decide that you don’t want your fair share of bites anymore. You nod dutifully.

“I got this, Jude.” She swipes the notepad from the older woman’s hands.

And with that, Carrie is kicking herself off the wall and out of the kitchen, into the main part of the diner. You silently pray for the couple that now has to deal with a moody and pregnant Carrie. 

See? Now, this is what you mean! No mechanic or receptionist at Billy’s Auto Parts will ever be willing to face an alleged-annoying couple for their coworker. Sometimes, waitressing can take the light and happiness out of you once you’re clocked out, but at least you’re surrounded by the half-decent people in your town.

“You’re a lifesaver!” Judy calls out with a wicked laugh. “Gotta love that girl… hey can I have a bite?”

You frown, knowing you’re already unable to say no when Judy is stressed and you know for sure that the confection in your hand is enough to sweeten even the most stressed—Jim just has that magic to him. “Yeah, but don’t make the dent obvious.”

You think you’re gonna spend the rest of your break with Judy, hiding in between the two walls in the corner of the kitchen until Carrie comes back. You lick a small sprinkle off the cupcake, ready to ask the woman if her daughter won the spelling bee that she’s been freaking out over all week, when the office door swings open and Lenny’s head peeks out, eyes going to the first two waitresses that he can spot.

“Hey!” he shouts yours and Judy’s last names to steal the attention. “Can one of you guys go out and get Evan? Her daughter’s principal is on the phone.” He wipes his sweat-stained brow and doesn’t wait for a response. “Thanks,”

You and Judy look back at each other. And immediately you know that you’re not going to make Judy be the one.

“I got it,” you say with a soft smile. “... You’re gonna eat the rest of this are you?”

She laughs and swipes the cupcake. “For you, my love, I wouldn’t dream of it. Thank you.”

You blow her a kiss, already making your way to the double doors of the kitchen, straightening out your ponytail and getting your waitressing voice ready (patient and respectful, garnering the best tips you can try to get). Your eyes give one swipe across the diner, catching Carrie’s eye as she talks to the couple sitting down beneath her, holding her precious bump to make a show of it. She gives you a sly wink and you bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing.

Afternoon rush makes it hard to spot Evan at first. His smaller stature makes it even harder to spot him in the crowd, but your eyes eventually zone in on him smiling at customer that is blocked by a family getting up to leave. You smile upon finding him and make your way to the table.

As you get closer, you finally notice who Evan is speaking two, and your brows pinch quizzically. The man is hunched, looking over the menu with sunglasses adorning his face despite his table not even facing the sun. His jet black curls curve around the lines of his face, making his features harder to notice. It almost reminds you of the movies you watch late at night when you’re munching on diner leftovers on your couch, the runaway criminal stopping for a bite to eat while trying to flee the state. 

“Evan,” you say softly, not wanting to draw attention to yourself but you know it's already bound to happen since you’re switching places with him. “Lenny’s got your daughter’s school on the phone. They’re asking for you.”

The man’s eyes widen. “Great,” he mutters, “What do you think it is this time?” “I hope she said ‘fuck you’ to that little pipsqueak again,” you joke, seeing the anxiety in Evan’s eyes at not knowing why he’s receiving a call during work. You remember the first time he got called to his daughter’s school from work due to her cursing out an older boy: the entire kitchen was laughing—Evan included—as they all wished him good luck with that meeting. “Can’t be worse than that.”

He sighed, turning back to the customer, “I’m sorry for the inconvenience, but I’m going to hand you off to her for a bit.” He says your name to further introduce you two. "Thank you for your patience.”

And for the first time up close, you look at the sunglassed man and smile. Perfect teeth flash at you, mildly astonishing you at how cute he looked when he did so. It’s not abnormal for you to find a customer attractive (it’s human, we’re human), but you don’t think a smile has ever made you secretly stop you from breathing for a second. 

Flustered, you’re clumsy as you and Evan switch spots. He pats your shoulder one last time, muttering a thank you as he rushes to the back. You follow his movements and frown for a split second and forget your task at hand. You hope his daughter is okay. You hope the kitchen will be laughing in t-minus three minutes over the fact that little baby-Evan gained a new curse word under her belt.

“Sorry,” you say, looking back at the man. You find him looking directly at you, knowing only because of how his head is positioned. His sunglasses are too tinted to even see a little beneath. “Can I start you off with anything to drink?”

“Oh—uh, yeah,” he stammers, before clearing his throat and offering a crooked smile. “Coffee, please. Milk and two sugars.”

Your handwriting matches the pace as he speaks. You hold a smile on your face to keep up pleasantries. “And have you decided what you would like to eat?”

“Not yet,” he admits, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of the menu. “Kind of hard to focus.” There’s a pause before he adds, a little quieter, “The menu’s got a lot of… options.”

You raise an eyebrow, tucking your notepad in the small pocket of your apron. You turn your head to see if anyone else is making coffee right now. You see Carrie there, and silently celebrate when she’s already staring at you. “All good. I’ll get your coffee ready and be right back–”

“—Wait.”

Your brows pinch, confused. “Yes?” His hand rubs the back of his neck, a flicker of hesitation crossing his face. “I was just, um… wondering if you had a favorite on the menu? Like… if there’s something you always recommend. Or—” He hesitates again, “Or like your favorite?”

You don’t know why he's so flustered. You don’t know why it makes you flustered. For a beat, you just look at him. Is he… trying to flirt with me? The thought isn’t unwelcome, but you certainly weren’t expecting it, or really believing it just yet. You tilt your head, trying your best to keep your expression neutral.

“Well,” you say eventually, “We have an all day breakfast, and that’s my favorite part of the menu, and I get it a lot. It’s on the next page.”

You wait for him to turn the menu, but he continues to stare back up at you, mouth agape.

“... Is that something you’re interested in?” you ask, breaking the silence.

“Yes,” he replies immediately. And then, more composed, “Yeah, I can be in the mood for breakfast.” He finally flips the page, and his head tilts up to yours fleetingly.

“Great! Our cook, Jim, makes the best strawberry and white chocolate pancakes, so that’s what I would recommend from the breakfast menu.”

His lips tug into a small, bashful smile. “Sounds perfect. I’ll take that.”

“Perfect!” you grin, scribbling his order onto your notepad. “I’ll take this to the kitchen, and have your coffee ready soon!” You flash him one more look before retreating back towards the kitchen. You finally get to look back at Carrie, who is still looking at you, this time arms crossed.

“How was the couple?” you ask when you’re about to pass her.

“Annoyed them enough to leave.” She grabs your wrist, and you just dodge the yelp that wants to escape your lips. “Do you know who you were just talking to?”

You freeze. Her grip is firm, her expression serious enough to make you hesitate. Your gaze darts briefly toward the dining area, but you stop yourself from looking back at him. The last thing you want to do is risk being caught gawking.

“I... no?” you whisper, unsure of how to answer. But even as you say it, you feel a subtle heat creeping up your neck. The weight of eyes on your back makes your skin prickle, as if the mystery man somehow knows he’s the topic of conversation.

“Why don’t you go check the newspaper in the locker room and get back to me, yeah?” she finally lets her grip go, smirking like she knows something you don’t.

Carrie's words linger repeatedly in your brain as you hesitantly allow yourself to drop off the man’s order, and then to go see whether or not you’re serving a serial killer. 

You slip the stripped paper from your notepad to Colin’s hands. “Table thirteen,” you say in passing as you make the rest of the way to the locker room, not even Judy’s cheerful wave as she smiles with a cupcake still in her hand can stop you from the mission you have decided to go on.

Upon entering the locker room, you gaze zeroes in newspaper lying flat on the bench, its closed pages teasing you with potential revelations about your current customer. You hesitantly flip it over as you come face-to-face with the front headline 

HIT AND DIP: ROCKSTAR EDDIE MUNSON LEAVES IN HASTE AFTER CHICAGO SHOW 

Your eyes widen as they lock onto the grainy photo accompanying the article. There’s no mistaking it. The guy at table thirteen. Eddie Munson. Rockstar. Your customer. 

For the first time, you finally see his eyes. But instead of him taking his sunglasses off to reveal his brown hues, you see them straight on in the form of a camera flashing and printing onto the paper right in front of you. He looks borderline pissed as he’s gripping his guitar and shooing the paparazzi in the background away, the picture managing to catch the split-second that his eyes meet with the camera.

“He’s hot.”

You jump, clutching the newspaper to your chest as you turn to meet eyes with Judy casually leaning over your shoulder with a grin.

“Judy!” you hiss, sighing in relief. 

“What?” she says plainly, “He is.”

“He is also currently Evan’s customer on table thirteen that I now have to serve.”

Judy’s pupil’s dilate. “Oh shit.”

You want to make a joking comment, calling Judy a cougar, but you’re interrupted by Carrie peeking her head in through the door. She looks down at the newspaper in your hands, and then back to your eyes. “Told you,” she says, her smirk from earlier still on her face.

Before you can respond annoyingly, Jim’s voice blares through the back. “Order up!” he shouts. “Waffles for thirteen!”

Your eyes nearly bulge out of its sockets.

“Jesus, do you ever slow down?” Carrie yells out the door.

They hear Jim’s “No!” and fan out back into the kitchen.

“Good luck, my love,” sings Judy.

“Can you ask for an autograph?” asks Carrie. She motions to her belly and gives it a soft pat. “She’ll think I’m real cool!” 

“Ha, ha,” you roll your eyes, already holding the order as you kick the double doors open, passing back into the diner. You try your best to calm your heart as you pour coffee into the kettle, taking sugar from the side of the counter and putting two teaspoons into the mug. You feel eyes on you the entire time, and you don’t need to look up to know whose covered eyes they belong to. 

It’s not every day that you get to serve a goddamn celebrity, so she thinks that everyone should give her a break (she’s specifically talking to her heart—it needs to stop beating so rapidly, making her brain think something is wrong).

You take a deep breath, steadying yourself as you hold the plate on one hand, and the mug on the other. “Just a customer,” you whisper under your breath, beginning to walk. “Just a ridiculously famous, incredibly good-looking customer who better leave a stunning tip.”

As you approach table thirteen, you notice that Eddie shifts slightly in his seat. One of his legs bounces under the table, and he drums his fingers lightly against the edge of the booth.

You \ set the plate and coffee down in front of him, you catch the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Waffles and coffee,” you announce, sliding the plate and mug onto the table with practiced ease. You’re proud that your voice doesn’t shake—too much, anyway.

Eddie leans back, grinning up at you. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

Your heart stops. You couldn’t help but think his eyes hold a knowing look, like he knew exactly what went down and now knows that you know exactly who he is.

“Enjoy,” you grin back. 

Behind you, you hear him mutter something under his breath, followed by a quiet groan, and you can’t help but feel a small flutter in your chest that he enjoyed what you recommended to him. 

The rest of the rockstar’s stay goes smoothly. You don’t intend on saying anything to give away what you know, despite it probably already being known, and you're grateful by this normalcy. You refill his coffee, make light conversation (the weather is particularly sunny and pretty today, shining through the windows and letting pretty glow spread through the diner), and take his plate when he’s wiped it clean.

You don’t even think much of his stay, mind already going back to it being a regular customer that deserves no more or less attention than anyone else is supposed to.

(Sure, his smile lingers in your mind a little longer than you’d like to admit—so what if his smile is better than any that you’ve seen, anyway?)

It isn’t until Eddie’s up and left and you trail back to the table to wipe it off, a damp rag in hand, do you notice the wad of cash left in his wake that is definitely worth more than his bill.

Your jaw drops down, staring at it and contemplating what to do with that much of an amount of money in front of you.

Next to it, a folded napkin sits.

Your mind immediately goes to an autograph; that he’s one of those celebrities, and he just couldn’t resist leaving a little something to prove of his appearance.

You’re taken back when you unfold it to see his number scribbled messily onto the fabric. Your fingers shake as you move your thumb to fully read the note that he added at the bottom,

Call me. Please. :)

[perseephoneee]

sugar & spice [ficmas day 13] [bucky barnes x afab!reader]

↳ masterlist ↳ ship exchange ↳ taglist ↳ ficmas 2024

author's note: this is super late bc i drove home for the holidays today!! also i was watching SNL and got distracted

playlist:

christmas in hollis -- run dmc

thats christmas to me -- pentatonix

if we make it through december -- phoebe bridgers

Living next to the Winter Soldier was usually peaceful but sometimes awful. 

He had moved recently to St. Bernard Parish only a few months ago. You remember seeing all the drama with John Walker on the news, and Sam Wilson, aka “The Falcon,” stepping into the role of Captain America. You knew Sam was from the area, but you never expected his best friend to move in so close by. Let alone next to you. 

Most times, you don’t see him at all. Bucky tends to hide or only go out on errands. You’ll exchange a nod, maybe an awkward smile. You think to yourself that he’s incredibly handsome, even amidst the awkwardness. Maybe you would invite him out if you had more confidence. 

The first time you had a real conversation with him was in the apartment complex’s laundry room. Your cat had knocked over a glass of red wine all over your comforter, and you were sitting down there with spot remover cursing to yourself, trying to remove it. Additionally, the washer and dryer were ancient and didn’t want to accommodate something of your comforter size. You had attempted to smush it down to as small as possible, but the stupid machine wouldn’t turn on, and you were afraid of it exploding if you tried to put more detergent in. 

Bucky had come into the space at that moment. 

You never really knew what to do around him. He was this badass, sexy super soldier, and you were a nursing student who liked $6 wine. You guys did not operate in the same circuit. 

“Everything alright?” he asked. His voice was slightly raspy in a way you liked. 

“Washer,” you pointed to the offending object. He nodded like he understood. He probably did. He lived in the building. Bucky walked over and looked at the machine, shaking it a little like it would dislodge its problems. He tried pushing a bunch of buttons, but all it did was make the machine gurgle. You were too late to tell him to stop pressing things when your fear of bubbles exploding out of the machine was made a reality. 

Soapy water leaked out of the machine, covering you both in bubbles. By the time you found a way to shut off the machine, you were both wet and squeaky. Bucky looked mortified.

“I-I don’t know much about technology,” he apologized, red tinging his cheeks. You couldn’t help but burst out in laughter, which just made him confused. 

“This is ridiculous,” you laughed. Bucky chuckled until both of you stood there, trying to hold in laughter while covered in bubbles. The building manager came in a moment later and yelled at you both. 

Now, you had a tentative friendship with the Winter Soldier. Sometimes, you guys would go on morning runs or grab a coffee. One time, Bucky had you over to watch a sports game. You didn’t care much for sports but recognized it was him trying to be friendly, so you said yes. You guys made nachos for the big event. 

With Christmas around the corner, you were still trying to think of what you could get Bucky. He didn’t share much information about himself. Plus, you had a budget to work with. You were debating knitting him something but worried he would hate it. A knock on the door disturbed your thoughts. 

Bucky greeted you with a card in hand. 

“Hey, Barnes,” you smiled, leaning against the door frame. 

“Sam invited us to Delacroix for a Christmas gathering,” Bucky shrugged, handing you the invitation. You smiled at the family photo. 

“Sounds fun.”

“I’m not good with people.”

“Sure you are, I’ve heard stories of the infamous Uncle Bucky,” you chuckled. Sam had once shown you photos of his nephews hanging off Bucky’s arm. 

“That was a one-time experience,” Bucky said matter-of-factly. He had a hint of a smile on his lips, though. He shifted on his feet. “Are you busy today?”

“Not really.”

“I need to go holiday shopping…. I want to get something for the Wilsons,” Bucky sighed. He sounded stressed, and you got the sense that it had been a while since he’d had to think of gifts. You thought it was cute. 

“I’ll go shopping with you, Buck,” you grinned. “Let me grab a jacket.”

Bucky had seen in the paper an ad for a Christmas market in New Orleans, which is where you guys decided to head. You had a car and were able to drive you both into the city after relentlessly teasing him for still using the paper to find events. 

You didn’t live in the French Quarter for a myriad of reasons, and it being too expensive is one of them. But it was very pretty during this time of year. The market was covered in fake snow and twinkling lights, the smell of evergreen permeating the air. You ordered some mulled wine for the both of you, burning your tongue in your eagerness to sip the drink. You helped Bucky buy some things for Sam and his nephews. At some point, you snapped a picture of him comparing two different stuffed animals; his look of determination was absolutely adorable. You grabbed some things for your family, and while thinking of your Mom, you ended up at one of the jewelry booths. 

“Beautiful, isn’t it? Fresh pearl, right off in Olympia, Washington,” the seller crooned, pointing to a delicate necklace you were looking at. There was a delicate gemstone in the center. It seemed to be twinkling at you. 

It was a pretty penny, but you wanted to do something for your Mom, who singlehandedly helped you through nursing school. You fished out the money from your wallet and opted to get it wrapped, too. 

“That’s pretty,” Bucky said from behind you. He had a bag from the hot sauce stand and was just now seeing what you were getting. 

“It’s for my Mom, as a thank you,” you shrugged. You said thank you as you took the necklace from the seller. You paused, sniffing the air. “Do you smell schnitzel?”

You dragged Bucky to the German food booth and excitedly ordered both pork schnitzel plates with a side of potatoes. You didn’t realize how starving you were. Bucky looked concerned as you inhaled everything. 

“You eat like the men I served with.”

“I eat with an aura of awesomeness?” you retorted, shoveling more potatoes. He laughed. 

“Sure.”

“I feel you don’t have faith in my superior abilities, Barnes.”

“I rarely do.”

You were about to respond, something well thought out and clever like always, when someone jostled you walking by. You turned to call out to them to watch where they were going when you saw a familiar bag in their hands. You stood up immediately, Bucky following your line of sight. 

“They took my bag! That has my Mom’s gift in it!” you cried out. People looked at you in bewilderment, your assailant sprinting in the crowd and knocking people out of the way. 

“Y/N, wait!” Bucky yelled as you took off after him. You weren’t an athlete, but you could pick up speed when necessary. You felt like you were in a game of Temple Run as you dodged people and objects while moving after him. Bucky caught up to you easily, not even breaking a sweat. He surpassed you quickly, grabbing the guy from the back of his jacket and throwing him down. You gasped at how quickly he moved. Bucky held him down while he checked for your bag. He looked up to you in alarm. “He doesn’t have it.”

“I saw him take it,” you gasped. 

“He must’ve passed it off to someone in the crowd,” Bucky cursed. The guy was crying underneath him, and he let him go. He basically kicked him to the side. You scanned the crowd, noticing a similar get-up from a guy to your left. You nudged Bucky’s arms, pointing him out. He nodded at you before stalking his way towards him. Even in his movements, he seemed completely still. You weren’t surprised to know that he was one of the scariest assassins. 

You both followed the guy onto a quieter street from the market. Unfortunately, that’s when the rest of his accomplices came out to greet you. While you were confident that Bucky could get out of this situation, you were unsure about your own abilities. 

You didn’t even have a chance to fight back when someone grabbed you from behind, pressing a sweet-smelling cloth to your nose, lulling you into unconsciousness. 

You were awoken by a bright spotlight. 

Akin to a bad interrogation scene, you sat up and groaned. You were tied to a chair. Bucky was next to you, looking bored. Or at least feigning boredom. The gang of guys were standing around you, looking smug. 

“Well, well, well, look at what the cat dragged in,” one of them said, sounding smug. 

“Aren’t you the cat?” you groaned. One of the other guys slapped you, Bucky growling at the motion. 

“Keep your mouth shut, this isn’t about you.”

“Then why kidnap me?”

“Y/N, shut up,” Bucky hissed. 

“I become annoying when I’m nervous,” you shrugged, the sting from your cheek starting to fade. The guy had a fairly weak slap. You spied your bag out of the corner of your eye, in the back near the door. You kissed your teeth. 

“What do you want?” Bucky asked. You wondered why he hadn’t broken out yet. 

“We want your privileged ass off our turf,” one of the guys called out. “Avengers aren’t welcome here. Not after the Blip.”

You thought that was a dumb reason but neglected to comment. 

“We were just about to leave; we were just doing holiday shopping,” Bucky said, tone even. 

“Oh, yes, sugar and spice. I’d love to have some of that sugar if you get my drift,” the main guy said, leering at you. You considered spitting on him, but Bucky’s hard expression was enough to cause a few of them to back off. He glanced at you, nodding at the door. You thought he was talking about your bags, and you nodded back. 

“You guys are barely passable villains, and I have better things to do,” Bucky sighed, snapping out of his restraints immediately and standing up. The other guys jumped into action, and that's how you got to see the Winter Soldier in true form. Even still, you knew he was holding back. He didn’t need full strength for these goons. 

You shuffled in your chair, trying to tip forward slightly. You had seen this once in a movie and thought of trying it now (everything is accurate in movies). You pushed back, landing with a hard crack on the back of the chair. The back part cracked, allowing you to wiggle out of your ties with ease. You got up off the ground, making a sprint towards the exit. Bucky caught up with you a second later. The guns started firing a moment after that. 

“Go!” Bucky yelled, basically dragging you behind him as you guys sprinted out of wherever you were. You followed behind him uselessly until he felt you were far enough away to catch your breath. You sat on the curb of the sidewalk, panting. Bucky put your bags on the ground next to you. 

“You remembered,” you sighed happily. Bucky sat down next to you. 

“Least I could do.”

“I’m sorry I got you caught up in that for a stupid present.”

“Those guys were idiots; it made my week to beat them up,” Bucky smiled. You knew he was trying to make you feel better, but you couldn’t help but think there was a shred of truth. 

“I still feel bad.”

“Don’t,” Bucky leaned against his knee. “Nothing with you is bad.”

You felt your cheeks heat, and you hoped Bucky didn’t notice. Adrenaline still coursed through you, your brain going a hundred directions a minute. You leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, making him go still. 

“Thanks for saving my life.”

Bucky smiled. 

“I think you saved your own.”

You both went home after that, Bucky hesitantly leaving you by yourself. Like he was afraid, something would happen. You didn’t realize until you were behind closed doors how scared you had actually been. You broke down sobbing a second later. You were glad Bucky wasn’t there to see it. 

Sam's party was at the end of the week. You were putting on some simple pearl studs when Bucky knocked on your door. You ran out to greet him, swinging open the door. 

You had never seen Bucky dressed up. He was always dressed in his “civilian attire” and in varying shades of dark. Today, he wore a dark blue button-up with his leather jacket over it. He had put on some nicer boots instead of his worn ones. He looked devilishly handsome and very much like someone who would break your heart. You were pleasantly surprised to find him appreciating your appearance as well. 

“You…,” he trailed off. You had put on a nicer maroon dress for the party but no heels. It wasn’t that fancy. It seemed to be enough for him. 

“I know–”

“You look beautiful,” Bucky coughed out. He was never good at talking or expressing anything, really. You didn’t know how much willpower it took for him to admit this. You beamed. 

“So do you,” you replied, shuffling your feet. Bucky offered you his arm, and you wondered how many girls he would do this to back in the 40s. You took it with glee anyway. 

Neither of you lived far from Delacroix, and didn’t have to wait that long to get to the Wilson’s. You could hear the music from down the block. Bucky parked, running to your door to quickly let you out. He was being a gentleman and it was giving you heartache. 

Sarah Wilson was dressed in a beautiful crushed velvet gown and greeted you with a hug when she saw you. You had met the Wilson sister twice, and both times she greeted you warmly. She quirked a brow when she saw Bucky, and he gave her an awkward salute and shuffled away. 

“You look wonderful,” you said to Sarah. 

“So do you, and he seems to notice,” Sarah nudged you, nodding towards Bucky. He had found Sam and the kids, who were already swarming him. 

“We’re just friends,” you bit your lip. Sarah chuckled. 

“And I’m a virgin. We all have our crosses to bear.”

You didn’t have a good retort to Sarah’s comments and decided to just follow her to the bar instead. You were going to need wine to get through this party if she was going to make suggestive comments. 

Two glasses of wine later, you were starting to feel calmer. The kids practiced patience when opening their presents, and the adults enjoyed the buffet-style food. One of Sam’s family members put on a Marvin Gaye record, and with the liquor free-flowing, dancing was bound to occur. Bucky was hiding on the edge of the dance floor, nibbling on a cookie. You joined him. 

“Did you dance in the 40s?” you asked. Bucky finished his cookie. 

“Yeah, it’s how I got all the girls,” he smiled. The wine flowed through your head, and you offered him your hand. He looked down at your hand and then back at you. 

“C’mon, get the girl Barnes. Take me dancing,” you grinned, even as your heart was thundering. Bucky took your hand, following you onto the ‘dance floor’ (carpet). He gave you a quick spin until you fell into his chest. 

“Falling for me already?” Bucky smirked. You understood why he was a stud back in the day. 

“Shut it,” you smiled. The music was upbeat enough that you weren’t left in the uncomfortable holding pattern of a slow dance. Bucky knew what he was doing, though, even if you didn’t. You let him spin you and pull you close, your breath catching every time. By the end of the third song, you’re out of breath and need another drink. Bucky follows you to the bar, a few steps behind. “You’re a good dancer,” you commented. 

“You’re a good partner,” Bucky offers you a wine glass, topping it off. You smile in thanks, taking a sip. You want to dissolve under his gaze. 

“You’re unbelievable,” you murmured. 

“Why?”

“You know why,” you quirked a brow. Bucky just chuckled, looking down. He was cute when he was bashful, and you hated him for it. When he looked up at you, you were caught by how blue his eyes were. 

Coughing interrupted you. 

Both you and Bucky turned to see Sam. His arms were crossed. 

“I need you two to hook up already,” Sam exclaimed. Bucky rolled his eyes, but you just glared at Sam. Your glare was enough to send him away. You turned back to Bucky with burning cheeks. Bucky rolled his shoulder with the metal arm like he was preparing for something. 

“Buck–”

He cut you off with a kiss. It stole your breath, and if it weren’t for his hand on your waist, you would’ve collapsed to the ground. When he pulled away, you looked at him with shock and adoration.

“I was tired of waiting,” he murmured. “And Sam was right.”

“Does it pain you to admit Sam was right?”

“Every time,” Bucky grinned. 

You kissed Bucky again and again until Sarah’s sons were making fake kissing noises in the living room, Sam was cheering, and you and Bucky were wondering how you ended up spending Christmas at the Wilsons. 

[tubattutu]

Held and Handled

summary: pegging your sweet boyfriend for the first time.

pairing: idol!huening kai x fem!reader

warnings: pegging, reader uses a strap on, sub!kai, dom!reader, soobin has a gf, petnames (babe, baby, hun), kai is sensitive and loud asf, as always lmk if i missed some !

a/n: merry christmas eve and happy holidays !!!!! been wanting to write something like this for a whileeeee so enjoy <3

"i swear man, that food was so good." soobin commented, taking a sip of his drink he had left over from the restaurant him and kai had just went to.

kai just chuckled, walking back to the dorm with his best friend. he kinda just zoned out as soobin talked about something he couldn’t recall, until a question caught him from his zoned out state.

“so how’s it going with y/n?” he asked curiously, sipping on his drink once more as he glanced over at kai, both of them still walking towards their dorm building. “mmh.. pretty good, actually.” kai replied, glancing down at the ground to his shoes, his hands in his pant pockets.

“really? nothing interesting?” soobin frowned, chuckling, still looking over at kai.

kais mind was all over the place, thinking and deciding whether or not he should mention what he was thinking… maybe soobin could help, maybe suggest something.

“uhh… well… i just.. i have a problem..” kai sighed, watching his feet move in rhythm with soobins. “problem? what’s up?” soobin asked, sounding a bit concerned.

“well… i guess lately whenever me and y/n do stuff it’s like.. kinda boring..” kai expressed and glanced over at soobin, the wind slightly blowing his hair. “oh? really?” soobin grinned, suddenly getting an idea in his head at the mention.

“you should try pegging.”

“pegging? are you serious?” kais eyebrows raised, surprised at the suggestion. “yeah, pegging. me and my girlfriend tried it a couple times and the first time we did it, it was probably the fastest i ever came.” soobin explained a bit too confidently. kai just made a face at that, but then started to think about it.

“well- what if y/n’s not comfortable with that? and won’t that like.. hurt?” kai questioned, frowning in confusion. “i mean, of course it’ll hurt at first but you’ll probably adjust to it. when you go visit her tonight you should talk to her about it. maybe she’ll be fine with the idea.” soobin nodded towards kai, taking a sip of his drink.

kai hummed in response, thinking about the suggestion.

— ♡

by the time he’d got to your apartment, you were already back from work. you both lied in eachothers arms on the couch, watching tv, when he suddenly remembered what soobin had suggested to him earlier that day. he sighed, unsure if he should even bring the idea up.

“uh- babe? can i talk to you about something?” he asked, stroking your hair back gently and softly, feeling the smooth strands between his fingers. “yeah, of course baby. whats wrong?” your head shifts up to look up at him from his chest, his warm body engulfing yours.

“well.. i was talking to soobin earlier today about how.. i just think lately when we.. y’know, do stuff, it just feels kinda boring and repetitive.. and he suggested something new for me to try,” he explained, a soft blush growing on his now pink cheeks. “… what did he say?” you ask, eyebrows furrowing in confusion and curiosity.

“he uhh… he suggested.. like.. pegging-?” he said embarrassedly. he swore he felt like his face had became a tomato. he was so incredibly embarrassed.

it was quiet for a moment, none of you speaking for what it felt like minutes but was only seconds, before you spoke up. “pegging?” it was quiet again, only for just a second again. “yeah- pegging… we don’t have to, i was just wondering if you’d like to try it sometime or..”

“yeah, i’m down..” you agreed, nodding subtly as well. you were a bit surprised at the idea though. you didn’t really expect your sweet boyfriend to be into pegging..

“really? when should we do it though?” he asks, shifting just a bit underneath you to get comfy, his fingers running through your hair once more. “whenever you can, i guess..” you suggest, lying your head back on his chest.

“this weekend? after work?” he rubs your back softly, staring down at your pretty face.

“mhm..”

— ♡

it was finally friday. for the rest of the week kai had been thinking about tonight. he was just so excited, but also nervous. how would it feel? would it feel as good as soobin described? he hoped it wouldn’t hurt too bad at first…

he was actually pretty dedicated to it though. he even went out of his way to go to the adult store and buy a strap on so the two of you could just go straight to it.

“babe, i’m home!” you call out, placing your purse onto the island of your kitchen and slipping off your shoes. you’d knew he’d be here by the time you got home. he waited for you in your bedroom, and when you opened the door and looked over at him, he looked up from his phone and smiled at the sight of his pretty girlfriend.

“hey baby..” you smile, climbing into bed next to him and kissing his lips. it seemed like you completely forgot about what you two were gonna do tonight. he hums and kisses you back, rubbing your side before pulling away to speak. “do you still wanna try.. that thing i mentioned a couple days ago?”

his question brought the memory back up into your head. you smile and nod after a moment, kissing his cheek. “are you sure you wanna do this? aren’t you scared i’m gonna like.. accidentally hurt you or something?” you ask worriedly, rubbing his cheek with your thumb softly.

“well, i mean.. yeah, but we can just go slow at first…” kai reassured you, smiling and stroking your pretty hair. “and.. are we even ready? like do you already have the..” you hint, and he already knew what you were talking about. he nodded, reaching down underneath the bed and pulling out the strap on. your cheeks flush, flustered at the sex toy.

“oh.. are- are you sure i’m not like… gonna hurt you with that?” you question, your eyes analyzing it worriedly. he chuckled, handing it to you. “i’ll be fine hun..”

you nod, sighing and taking the strap on, your fingers grazing the fake cock for a moment to feel the material.

and soon you both were already in position. the strap on was already around your hips, meanwhile kai was already prepared underneath you with his cock leaking precum, his legs spread for you. you reached out to rub his thighs, your eyebrows furrowing in concern.

“i don’t wanna hurt you…” you spoke, still worried as hell. “babe, i’ll be fine, i promise… if you hurt me i’ll tell you..” he reassured you once more, softly rubbing your hand that was on his thigh.

his constant reassurance made you feel a bit better. you swallow nervously and adjust the length that was lathered with lube, rubbing a bit of lube on his entrance before finally sliding the fake cock into his hole. his breath hitches, whimpering, his walls clenching and unclenching around the length.

you glance up, seeing the look of slight discomfort on his face and you immediately felt worried again. you stopped moving, “are you okay baby? did i hurt you?”

“m’ fine.. jus’ burns a little… keep going slow..” he softly spoke, reaching out to hold your hand. you hold his back, squeezing it soothingly and slowly sliding in further until you eventually bottomed out. he lets out a whiny moan, squeezing your hand tightly..

once the burning sensations faltered, he untensed and swallowed thickly. “you can move now..” he confirmed. at that, you gently held his hips, slowly and softly thrusting in and out of his tight hole. he cried out from the feeling, the fake cock brushing against all the right spots.

you glance up at his face once more just to check up on him, the worry you felt faltering a bit. you decide to test the waters, moving a little quicker into him, making sure to be gentle and careful just in case you accidentally hurt him.

“y/n-“ he moaned, his breath heavy as he desperately reached down to grip onto the sheets. “faster..” he whined.

gladly, you start to move even faster, his jaw dropping open while loud moans and cries spilled from his mouth uncontrollably. “y/n-! s-so good!” his breath came out in short, soft gasps, his cock bouncing against his stomach with each quick thrust.

his moans sounded so adorable to you, so sensitive and cute. you start to slow down, letting him catch his breath just for a moment. he pants, a little disappointed you slowed down, but was thankful.

“fuck… y/n that—“ he couldn’t even finish his sentence before you suddenly started your thrusts again, this time a little too fast. he almost screamed, his thighs trembling as his prostate was pounded into over and over again. he cried out your name over and over again, his eyes tearing up and his desperate moans getting louder as you reached down to stroke his hard cock. he swore he felt like his legs were going to give out right then and there. his cock finally bursted with so much spurts of cum, covering his tummy and some of his chest with his own seed.

he pants as you slowed down, your thrusts now gentle and slow to help him ride out his powerful orgasm.

“are you okay..? i didn’t hurt you right?” you ask, rubbing his thighs softly and soothingly.

“i-i’m okay.. felt so good..” he spoke almost quietly, his breath still heavy. you hum at that, gently pulling out and cleaning him up, before the two of you finally head to bed, snuggling up in each others arms.

[ironheartwriter]

Thank you for the tags @annoyingcloudearthquake, @paperstorm, @carlossreaders, @literateowl, & @whatsintheboxmh!

Today will be a Work is Published Wednesday with a peek from my Secret Santa fic Home for Christmas.

“What the hell was in Tía Lucy’s coquito this year?” Carlos groans softly, curling up on himself a little more as TK continues to rub his back. TK doesn’t miss how weak his fiancé’s voice sounds, nor how warm Carlos’s skin feels to his touch. Carlos almost always felt warm to him, but this felt next level, “I feel like a truck hit me.” “Babe, you’re burning up,” TK shakes his head as he brushes his fingers through Carlos’s hair, realizing in that instant that Carlos was sweating, despite the fact that it was neither warm nor cold inside the loft, but at the same time, he was also fairly certain that Carlos was shivering ever so slightly. “I don’t think that this is the result of too much rum in the coquito.” “Oh, god only knows there’s much more than just rum in Tía Lucy’s coquito….” Without much more ado, TK gets up from the bed and heads for the bathroom. It was an inside joke between him and Carlos that he had a much better stocked first aid kit than anyone, having maybe walked off with a few things from the rig or around the firehouse over the years out of an abundance of caution. It was under the sink that he found the thermometer, along with an old stethoscope that he didn’t even necessarily remember walking off with, but he was fairly certain he had brought it home by mistake one day and just never returned it to the firehouse do to simply forgetting that it existed. He debated the blood pressure cuff, but figured that might be a little bit of overkill and if he was going to go that far, he might as well ask for a rig to drive by with a LifePak, which would certainly be overkill, though he was definitely tempted.

I hope everyone has an incredible holiday season, no matter what you're celebrating 💜

Tagging: @emsprovisions, @sapphic--kiwi, @chicgeekgirl89, @carlos-in-glasses, @strandnreyes,

@reyesstrand, @alrightbuckaroo, @corsage, @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut, @eclectic-sassycoweyes

@firstprince-history-huh, @heartstringsduet, @hereghostslive, @lightningboltreader, @lemonlyman-dotcom

@nisbanisba, @nancys-braids, @captain-gillian, @reeeallygood, @thisbuildinghasfeelings

@tailoredshirt, @tellmegoodbye, +open tag

[followyourfleart]

𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝑻𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝑭𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒔

Chapter 1 -

After the outbreak and countless heartaches, you found yourself in a settlement in Jackson, Wyoming. Much different than Austin, Texas. In your years of living there, you have built a wall to save your feelings, even if you are the teacher for the small kids of the town.

Your life was going as fine as life could go, until Tommy brought back his estranged brother and a kid, opening memories you spent years suppressing.

Word Count: 2.5 k

When you were thinking of a new neighbor, a gruff man, and his daughter living right next door was not the idea.

You remember seeing it when the two hugged on the streets. You guided a line of young kids back to the school after their short recess in the horse stable. The kids were tugging on your hands, with their missing teeth grinning up to you. Your breath had curled in the air as it became visible and soon disappeared while you adjusted their scarves.

“Tommy!”

It was enough to make you stop in your tracks. No one ever called out Tommy’s name like that unless something was wrong. And every day, it seemed like everyone stopped what they were doing when they heard it. But this time, the desperation in the voice was different—urgent, as if time had stopped, leaving only that one sound hanging in the air.

When you were watching them hug, you looked at who was death-gripping Tommy. An older man, his roots greying into his black to create an ashy shade. He was wearing multiple layers, his brown jacket covering his frame and his dark gloves gripping Tommy’s shoulders as they spoke.

The kids gawked a little bit, staring up at the obvious reunion. They didn’t speak, but soon grew bored of looking, and dragged you along. Your body followed, but your face would turn back, looking at them talking. You didn’t catch a look at his face, or at the new girl who was sitting awkwardly on the horse.

By the time you had gotten home, word had moved around fast. Gossip tends to spread quickly in this settlement in the mountains. Turned out that was Tommy’s brother, Joel Miller. The girl was only 14 years old. As you walked home, the cold freezing your nose, you couldn’t keep your mind off the pair. Strange, how fate allowed those two to meet again. A prickling of a feeling you can’t identify starts in your chest, but someone cuts off the idea.

“Reader,” It was Tommy. His jet-black hair was sprinkled with white flakes, which were quickly melted into his scalp. “How are you doing?”

You smiled, “I’m fine, Tommy. I saw what happened earlier, and I’m glad you found your brother again.”

Tommy’s expression turned amused. “I guess everyone already figured out that Joel is my brother, huh? Word doesn’t keep to itself around here.”

“I guess not.”

An awkward silence came over you both. To say you were close with Tommy was a lie. While he did save you, time had let you make your friends and meet others. You still had good contact with his wife Maria, however other than that, it was radio silence.

He broke the tension with a request “Listen, you know the girl that came with him, Ellie? Well, I want to make her more comfortable with this life, so I was wondering if you could take her in at the school.”

Your eyes widened before you almost laughed. “You know that the school isn’t a private school. We take anyone, there isn’t a process or anything like that. You could drop her off and no one would bat an eye.”

Tommy cleared his throat “I know that Reader. I just want you to keep your eye on her. She’s important… to Joel. And I want to make sure everything is good for them. Give them a semblance of normalance.”

You nod your head in agreement. You don’t miss that ‘important’ part “It’s possible she could come on Monday next week with Joel, see how things work for her age group, then put her in on Tuesday. It’s only Wednesday today, so you can give her the rest of the week to see life here.” You had to make a mental note to write that down in the shared teacher planner.

His face brightens, before he clears his throat, going back to his cool professional look “Thank you, Reader, I owe you one.”

It was the opposite. You quite literally owed him everything, as his intervention saved your life. But you simply parted ways, and you finished the trek to your home.

It was simple, a white house with two rooms and two floors, something you would have killed for before the outbreak. You run the heels of your boots against the ledge of the porch, scrapping off snow and dirt. Then, you heard talking.

Bringing your head up to the noise, you saw Joel and Ellie walking up the steps to the house next door, Tommy leading them. You had watched in curiosity. New neighbors, you suppose. The girl was looking everywhere, the large house and the railings, the dead shrubs, and the icy walkway.

Tommy caught you in the corner of his eye and waved. You returned it. Joel’s eyes followed Tommy’s sight, before landing on you. You couldn’t see his expression from so far, but you nodded to him in common courtesy. He returned it, with a small lift of his hand. Tommy then leads them both into the house.

Even with the time going by, you couldn’t help but think about them. When you were living before the outbreak, you would have spied on the new neighbors to get to know them, before actually talking. But the full snow made it harder for them to see anything, and they weren’t about to play in the snow on their first day.

So that’s how you ended up, 9:30 in the night in front of his house, with a plate of cookies.

It gave you some sort of normal, being in front of another’s house with a plate of cookies. You had never been the ‘welcome wagon’, bearing a plate of food, nor have you been given the chance. When you first got here, the house next to you had already been filled by a couple in their late 50s, now 60s. They were the grumpy kind that you would see in the movies, yelling at kids on their front porch. The chances of them showing up like guardian angels with food were little to none.

You fidget with your scarf nervously. What if no one showed? Then you would have looked like an idiot with a plate of cookies you wouldn’t even end up eating. You knock twice, adding a third for good luck.

Then, the door slowly creaks open, with only a sliver of a face present. He was taller than you, his face was covered by shadows. His face was unreadable, however, his eyes couldn’t mask the suspicion that came off him.

“Can I help you?” His gruff voice came out from behind the door.

Your words were suddenly caught in your throat, but you forced them out. You were not about to look like a fool in front of your new neighbors.

“I’m Reader. I live right next door. I waved to you earlier today…” Your voice started to die off as you tried to give him pointers on how you knew him slightly.

“I know who you are.” His voice was even and cold. You swallowed, the conversation dying. He was actively shutting this down. You attempt to save it.

“Since we’re now neighbors,” You stammer, “I thought it was only right to properly introduce myself!”

“Great.” He said deadpan.

“Here,” you push the cookies toward the crack of the door, which he half-heartedly takes “Made these for you and your daughter. Hope you aren’t allergic to anything.”

You joke with that last part, but Joel’s expression becomes colder than it already was. Guess he doesn’t joke about allergies.

“I’m gonna… yea I’m gonna go now.” You can tell when you're not wanted, and clearly, this man would rather eat his foot than continue this conversation. As you make it down their steps, you can feel his eyes still on you. A brief look back shows you that he is still looking at you through the sliver at that door before he shuts it. 

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

It doesn’t take a genius to realize how much and when a man is wanted. It’s been a couple of days since Joel and Ellie arrived at Jackson, and almost every woman has stared at him for a solid 30 seconds. You, unfortunately, had become one of those women lately.

He was strangely magnetic, even though it was clear he could care less about what others thought about him. He was more interested in Ellie’s well-being than anything else. Joel’s eyes were always on her when they were together, however, Ellie took any chance she could to explore the settlement.

This gave Joel enough time to spend time with Tommy, and they always ended up at the bar, the bar that you also ended up in during the weekends. However, it was the only bar in Jackson, so everyone ended up there.

When you walk into the bar, it’s busy. A successful raid had brought a bunch of supplies that Jackson couldn’t grow. The people were wall to wall, holding bears and glasses of alcohol. Music played from the stage, old music that you haven’t heard since before the outbreak. You shuffled through groups of people, making your way to a lone table in the back near the wall. 

“Reader!”

Tommy’s voice is loud enough to cut through the noise and the music. You turn your head, rubbing your temple. He makes his way to you, people patting him on his back. His brother follows close behind, setting his drink on your table when he gets there.

“Hey, Tommy.” You wave “How’s the night going? The only talk I’ve been hearing about is how good the raid went.”

Tommy grins. “More than great. Managed to snag a couple of books and supplies you asked for for the school.”

A waiter comes up, takes your order, and promptly smiles and leaves. You guess everyone is more than happy today “I saw that, thanks.”

Joel looks over the crowd, before taking a long swing of his beer. This was where you could see his features properly. 

The man standing before you was rugged in every sense of the word. His dark ashy black hair, streaked with gray at the temples, was unkempt but somehow suited him. A scruffy beard covered his jawline, rough and uneven, as though shaving was a luxury he’d long abandoned. His skin was tanned and weathered, creased around his eyes and mouth, hinting at years spent enduring the elements.

What stood out most, though, were his eyes. Dark and intense, they scanned his surroundings with a sharpness that made it clear he missed nothing. Those same eyes, framed by furrowed brows, carried a weight that made it hard to look away, though she wasn’t sure if it was curiosity or discomfort that rooted her to the spot.

You understood why it was so hard to look away now. He was simply, breathtaking. He was the type of older man that your mother warned you about when you were a teen but couldn’t help but stare at those modeling pictures.

When the waitress came back with your drink — a light beer to calm the nerves — you took a sip to sedate yourself. He was a man who just moved into a town after suffering years on the outside with a child on his hip. He wasn’t anything special either. Maybe it was the rugged single dad look that attracted every single woman in town.

“Hello,  Joel.” You say politely “Did Ellie enjoy the cookies I made?”

His head remained looking outward, but his eyes snapped to you. He turned, nodding “She did. Couldn’t get her to stop eating.”

“Kids are like that. They always love all this sweet stuff. We have to make sure we don’t overfeed them. Sugar rushes are not fun.” You joke.

The conversation was easier than at his house. Was it because he was near his brother? He seemed actually open to talking.

“The kids always pester me around Christmas time for sugar cookies,” You continue  “But I rather throw myself in mud than deal with over 20 high on sugar.”

Joel’s eyebrows furrow “You deal with the kids?”

You nod “I’m one of the teachers at the school. Well, it’s not like a school we went to. It’s more like a daycare for the younger kids and having the older ones supervised and getting used to working in the community.”

He keeps his hand on his drink “So you’re going to be taking care of Ellie.”

“If you want that,” You keep your mouth shut about Tommy's involvement in enrolling Ellie. Knowing Tommy, he liked to keep his good doings to a minimum “I’m sure Tommy has told you the idea of putting Ellie in a school setting. Does Monday work for heading to the school and checking things out?”

He thumps his fingers against the wood of the table. His face was one of concentration “Sure.” He lifts his head to meet your eyes “I can bring her there and have her check things out.”

As the night rolled along, the alcohol warmed up your body. The bar got even more busier, the music being drowned out by the chatter. Maria soon came as well, drinking along with Tommy. Joel remained close to the wall, on his second beer.

The night was getting long, and your eyes dropped. Fridays were always the worst, the kids were always jittery, draining your energy to the lowest of lows. 

Slip out of your chair, you head to the front to pay. You gesture toward Tommy and Maria, saying goodbye. With your hands in your pockets, you make your way into the cold night. Lights cast a glow over the snow, the mountains darkening the sky even more.

The crunch of snow under your boots was soon accompanied by another pair. Turning back, you see Joel. His breath fanned around his sharp face.

“Joel, didn’t expect to see you coming this way.” It hurt to smile, the cold freezing up your muscles.

“I live the same way.” He motioned down the road. 

‘Oh, I guess that is right’  You rubbed the back of your neck.

You slow down to match his pace. Having him just trail behind you was just strange and it wouldn’t help your anxiety of walking home alone. A silence that was present when both of you first talked fell over you both again.

The snow slightly drifted you both, the brown of your coat getting small dark dots on the shoulders. There was slight chatter from the center of the settlement, that slowly went away as you made it toward the cemetery.

Now that you were looking up at him so close, you felt like you’d seen this man somewhere. Not before you were living in Jackson, but somewhere earlier. His face seemed like it was a part of a distant memory.

When you reach Rancher Street, your house comes up first, the roofs full of snow. You slow your walk and put your foot on the first step. Before heading up more, you turn back to Joel who is watching you with an intense look.

“I’ve seen you somewhere, haven’t I.”

authors note -

I hope you guys enjoyed the first chapter!! Don't look at my past posts and realize that I haven't posted in almost a year. Oops!

Here's my a03 account where you can read this same story on a03 if you prefer that format: Writer_Spins

[sajirah]

The Prison Chapter One

The Prison

In honor of me being newly unemployed and House of Flame and Shadow dropping in less than 2 weeks I wrote a thing. You can read it here or on AO3. Enjoy.

-o0o-

Feyre was a murderer.

That was why she was here after all, staring out at the island that was soon to be her prison. She probably deserved it. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t absolutely petrified to be here.

“Any advice?” She asked the marine unlocking her shackles.

He glanced up at her, considering, and then said, “Pretty thing like you? Find the meanest, nastiest fucker on that island and convince him to protect you.”

Feyre didn’t need the soldier to explain how exactly she was expected to ‘convince’ said man. She’d already had plenty of nightmares of exactly that scenario after her sentencing. The worst part was his advice was probably one of her better options.

“Thanks,” she replied quietly. I think.

He didn’t reply, only pulled off her shackles and then took a strong hold of her arm. She didn’t know why he bothered. It’s not like she could hijack this boat and sail it back home all by herself. She didn’t even know how to drive a car, let alone a boat. She supposed she’d never learn now.

The captain stepped in front of her then, weary and clearly wishing he was anywhere else.

The feeling is mutual pal.

“Feyre Archeron, you have been sentenced to life on The Prison. Do you have anything to say before your sentence is carried out?”

The woman in question stared at him blankly. What was even the point? He was going to throw her onto an island of rapists and murderers no matter what she said. She’d already screamed and cried and swore at her trial. What more could she possibly say?

The captain had the gall to look annoyed. As if she were the one ruining his day.

“Right,” He turned to the marine holding her arm. “Toss her and let’s leave this fucking place.”

Toss her?! “Wait, what?!-” But it was already too late and before she could react the marine was hoisting her up and shoving her overboard.

Icy seawater hit her like a ton of bricks. The shock froze her limbs for precious seconds as her mind tried to reorientate itself. Kick! She thought frantically. After a few terrifying moments her body obeyed.

Salt stung her eyes as she broke the surface and sucked in oxygen but she still managed to see the blurry shape of the boat as it passed her and glided off towards the horizon.

“Fuck you!” She shouted after it. It was petty, but who was going to care about her behavior now? Her dead mother? Her absent father? Her sisters she hadn’t seen since she’d been hauled off by the police?

The island loomed large a quarter mile behind her. She supposed it didn’t matter to the courts if their prisoners actually made it onto the island. Just that they’d been dumped within its vicinity so there was no hope of them ever escaping.

How far even was the mainland from here? Thirty miles? Forty? Fifty? It had taken at least a few hours to get here. They’d left at 9 am sharp and if the sun was anything to go by it was barely noon. Not that any of this mattered. She was never going home.

No one escaped The Prison.

For a few indulgent moments Feyre considered letting herself drown. As terrible as it seemed, it certainly had its appeal compared to eking out a miserable existence on an island full of dangerous criminals. After all, they didn’t send just anyone to The Prison. Only the worst of the worst for this place. Murderers. Serial killers. Violent rapists. Enemies of the rich and powerful.

It was dizzying to think she was considered one of them now.

She let the moment of self pity linger and then let it go. Right. She’d never been a quitter. She wasn’t about to start now.

Resigned, she pointed herself towards the island and started swimming.

-o0o-

Feyre arrived upon her new home’s doorstep looking, for all intents and purposes, like a drowned cat.

It had taken her at least an hour to swim to shore, fighting six foot waves and avoiding what she desperately hoped were not sharks. She couldn’t be sure but she swore something had bumped up against her in the water at some point and hadn’t she read somewhere that sharks bumped into their prey before they circled around to take a bite out of them?

Shivering, she glanced down the beach, hoping against hope none of her fellow prisoners had seen her, but almost immediately she spied two men melting out of the tree line.

Well fuck.

Adrenaline flooded her veins and she scrambled to her feet as one of the men crept closer, holding his hands up as if she were a spooked horse. He was older, hair grayed and skin weathered by the sun. Clothes barely more than rags. Was this what awaited her if she managed to survive as long as him? Rotted teeth and preying upon new arrivals like scavengers?

“Easy there doll. We’re not gonna hurt ya…”

Either he thought she was a moron or he was one himself because Feyre knew exactly what that man had planned for her and quite a lot of hurt was involved.

“Bet you’re real hungry after that swim,” the other man said. He was younger than his companion, but in many ways he looked worse off. Starved and mean looking. “We’ve got some food over at our camp. We’ll share it…”

Even if she were desperate enough to take him up on his offer, his hollow cheekbones and bony wrists led her to believe that statement was a load of bullshit.

She waited, muscles coiled and tense as the men drew ever closer. Suddenly the skinny one reached out, attempting to make a grab for her but Feyre was ready for him. She kicked the sand and it arced up and sprayed straight into his eyes. He howled, clutching at his face, and stumbled forward but she was already bolting out of reach and into the forest.

“Wait, come back!” The older man shouted.

“I can’t see!” The other roared. “I’ll fucking kill her!”

But Feyre was already putting as much distance between her and her would-be captors as possible, not knowing which direction she was going except that it was ‘anywhere but here’. She heard the older man crashing in the underbrush just behind her, shouting at her like she were an unruly dog set loose.

She didn’t even realize his shouts had stopped until she was halfway up the hill. She dared a glance over her shoulder and saw nothing but trees and ferns.

Good.

She kept climbing.

-o0o-

It’s getting dark.

That was all Feyre could think as she wandered the woods in search of food and shelter. So far she’d found a tiny stream of questionable quality and a crooked stick. She supposed she could poke someone’s eye out with it if she was very lucky and her attacker were very still but she wasn’t holding out much hope in that department. Unfortunately the other items on her survival list had yet to be discovered.

Though with the way the sun was going down she was starting to worry. The temperature was dropping rapidly and though her clothes had long since dried they weren’t exactly made to keep one warm in near freezing weather. When she’d first realized they intended to send her off to her final destination in only her prison uniform she’d nearly fought them.

“You can’t be serious!” She’d raged at the officers escorting her onto the boat. “How am I supposed to survive without a coat? A knife? A lighter?”

The officers had been silent but their message was loud and clear: You don’t.

They expected her to die out here. They expected them all to die out here. Well clearly they hadn’t met Feyre. If there was one thing she was good at it was survival. And spite.

Especially that last one.

Still, if she didn’t find shelter soon even sheer undiluted spite was going to have trouble keeping her warm.

It took another hour before she found what she was looking for.

In the dying light, she spotted a little burrow under a rocky outcrop. It would be a tight squeeze, but it was better than her current options which were…nothing. It wasn’t exactly the Four Seasons, but it would mostly protect her from the elements and, more importantly, keep her out of sight. The last thing she needed was another of her fellow prisoners happening upon her while she slept.

As she wormed her way into the muddy crevice, she wistfully reminisced upon her bed back home.

To think, just a year ago she had been sitting in an upscale dining hall, celebrating her sister’s marriage. If someone had told her then what her future held she never would’ve believed them.

And still, she couldn’t fully regret the actions that had led her here.

Perhaps if she hadn’t seen the bruises littering Nesta’s arms things would’ve been different, but she had. And once she had seen them she couldn’t unsee them, no matter how many long sleeved dresses and cardigans her sister wore afterwards. Feyre still had the image of purple fingerprints dotting her sister’s wrist branded into the backs of her eyelids. Nesta never said a word about them. No matter how many times Feyre and Elain begged her to. She had been the very picture of the quiet, demure wife.

And Feyre had hated it.

Perhaps it would’ve gone on indefinitely like that, Nesta’s stoic silence and her sisters’ outspoken concern, but then it had happened.

It had been over something innocuous, his breakfast not being done on time, his coffee being too hot, or his newspaper not being laid out on the table the way he liked. Whatever it was, all Feyre remembered was the way her sister had reacted to her husband’s ire, braced and waiting for a blow. She’d seen it in her eyes. The hatred. The fear. The self loathing of having her sisters here to witness her humiliation. And then he’d grabbed her by the chin, fingers pressed deep enough to leave marks and Feyre had seen red.

Perhaps she truly deserved to be here for what had happened next. For the sheer satisfaction she had felt as she’d watched him bleed out around the butter knife in his eye socket. All she had known then was that this man would never touch her sister again.

She had never lost a moment’s sleep after doing what she did. When she had closed her eyes in her cell after her arrest the only thing she had regretted was the looks of horror and disbelief on her sisters’ faces. She hated that her final memories of her family were those.

But she still couldn’t regret it. No amount of wealth was worth broken bones. Nesta may have been willing to live in gilded luxury for the price of her battered body, but that wasn’t a trade Feyre agreed with. Better her sister live a rich widow who hated her. Better she was thrown to the rapists and murderers.

And I’d do it again. Every time. Feyre thought as she curled into the mud and let her exhaustion lull her to sleep.

Elsewhere, in the gathering dark, something stirred. The other prisoners retreated to the shoreline. They knew better than to enter the forest at night.

There you are. A voice whispered into Feyre’s dreams. I’ve been waiting for you.

[rosicheeks]

🙃

[tariah23]

It’s always crazy to see black celebs spew this same rhetoric because it’s such a privileged take… like, they’ve been famous for so long and have gotten their money up, moved out of the projects or whatever tf, that they’ve forgotten what it’s like to be genuinely feel. It’s impossible for them to connect anymore. As far as the qrt, oh wow ☠️.

[jutsuuu]

girl help I’m experiencing

[transmechanicus]

“I’ll be fine i just need to uhhhhhhh idk kill” but like…what if i did haha

[trickstercaptain]

so i missed jack's birthday this year by like two weeks lmaoooo however i am not gonna forget that it is my nine year anniversary of this muse next week :')