#and feel more secure that they need him just as much as he needs them

[reidmarieprentiss]

Call Me Dad

Summary: You take Spencer home for Christmas.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, comfort

Warnings/Includes: use of Y/N, you have a mom and a dad, airplane

Word count: 8.7k

a/n: i literally wrote this dinner the summer and just remembered it lmaooo NOT PROOF READ

Spencer and you have been dating for six blissful months. You are his first girlfriend at 25 years old, and while he is still anxious he could do something wrong, you prove time and time again that he has nothing to worry about. You've already told him you love him, and he treasures the way you feel. He hasn't returned the sentiment yet, but you're not upset about it. You understand that he needs his time, and you're more than willing to give it to him. 

With Christmas approaching, you ask him to come home with you for the holidays. His mom is on a Caribbean cruise with her residents and caretakers, and you can't stand the idea of him being alone during this special time of year. Spencer hesitates at first. Memories of his dad leaving him when he was young, combined with his mom not often being in a state to parent, have left him unsure of how to navigate familial interactions. 

Despite his nerves, Spencer accepts your invitation, knowing how much this means to you and wanting to be a part of your world. He's never been good around parents, but he knows this is a chance to experience something he's always wanted: a warm, loving holiday with someone who truly cares for him.

Spencer's anxiety was at an all-time high as the two of you made your way through the bustling airport. You could feel the tension radiating off him, his shoulders hunched and eyes darting around as if he were expecting something catastrophic to happen at any moment. His usual calm demeanor had all but disappeared, replaced by a bundle of nerves that made him appear more like a skittish cat than the brilliant profiler he was.

Recognizing his unease, you took the lead, gently guiding him through the labyrinthine halls and throngs of people. Your hand wrapped securely around his, you navigated the chaos of the airport with practiced ease. Spencer was content to let you take charge, grateful for your steady presence beside him.  

Once you reached security, Spencer fumbled with his belongings, his fingers trembling slightly as he removed his shoes and placed them into the plastic bins. The noise and commotion seemed to blur together, creating a cacophony that only heightened his nerves. 

"It's okay," you whispered reassuringly, brushing your thumb over the back of his hand. "Just breathe. We'll be through this in no time."

He nodded, taking a deep breath and doing his best to focus on your calming words rather than the endless line of travelers. With you by his side, he managed to get through security and baggage checks without too much trouble, though he was visibly relieved when the ordeal was over.

As you settled into your seats on the plane, Spencer finally seemed to relax, even if just a little. The roar of the engines and the hum of people boarding around you faded into the background as he focused on the comfort of your presence. He clasped your hand tightly, resting it in his lap as if it were a security blanket. 

Despite his well-documented aversion to germs, Spencer was willing to overlook the potential contamination of the airplane seat if it meant keeping you close. In truth, he needed something tangible to hold onto—something that reminded him he wasn't alone in this unfamiliar and slightly terrifying journey. 

"I'll definitely need a hot shower once we arrive at the hotel," Spencer muttered with a half-smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. 

You chuckled softly, leaning your head against his shoulder. "Well, if that’s the price of getting to spend Christmas together, I think it's worth it. Besides, the hotel has great water pressure."

Spencer managed a genuine smile at that, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly as the plane began to taxi down the runway. The steady thrum of the engines provided a soothing background noise, and he found himself focusing on the rhythmic sound of your breathing instead of the clamorous thoughts still circling in his mind.

As the plane ascended into the sky, Spencer gave your hand a gentle squeeze. He felt a warmth spreading through his chest, grateful for your unwavering support and the way you always seemed to know exactly what he needed. 

The steady hum of the airplane engine and the gentle warmth of the cabin worked their magic on Spencer, lulling him into a deep sleep shortly after takeoff. The tension that had gripped him so tightly began to ebb away as his eyelids grew heavy, and soon he was slipping into a much-needed rest. His head rested comfortably against your shoulder, a soft snore escaping his lips as his breathing evened out. You watched him with a fond smile, glad to see him finally relax.

—

The flight seemed to pass in the blink of an eye as Spencer remained blissfully unaware of the turbulence or the occasional announcements crackling over the intercom. When the plane finally touched down, the jolt barely registered in his sleepy daze. 

You gently nudged him awake, whispering, "Hey, sleepyhead. We've landed." He blinked groggily, trying to shake off the remnants of his nap as he stretched and rubbed his eyes under his glasses.

"Mmm," he murmured, his voice thick with sleep. "We're here already?"

You chuckled softly, helping him gather his belongings. "Yes, we are. Come on, let's get through the airport."

In his post-nap haze, Spencer moved almost on autopilot, following your lead as you navigated the bustling terminal. The world around him felt surreal, the bustling crowds and overhead announcements fading into a distant hum. He kept a firm hold on your hand, trusting you to guide him through the maze of travelers and luggage carts.

Picking up the rental car was a blur. Spencer watched as you handled the paperwork, his mind still foggy from sleep. He leaned against the counter, blinking slowly as if trying to process everything happening around him. Once the keys were in hand, you led him to the car, and he gratefully sank into the passenger seat.

"Why don’t you close your eyes for a bit while I drive us to the hotel?" you suggested, glancing over at him with a smile.

Spencer nodded, resting his head against the window. The rhythmic motion of the car soon lulled him back into a state of semi-consciousness, where he drifted in and out of sleep, vaguely aware of the passing scenery.

When you finally arrived at the hotel, Spencer was roused once more, his sleepy daze still clinging to him as you checked in and made your way to your room. He stretched as he stood in the elevator, trying to shake off the last vestiges of slumber.

Once inside the hotel room, Spencer looked around with bleary eyes, taking in the cozy atmosphere. "This looks nice," he mumbled, a hint of appreciation in his voice.

"It does," you agreed, dropping your bags and heading toward the bathroom. "Why don't you take that shower you were looking forward to? I'll unpack while you do."

Spencer nodded, grateful for the suggestion. The promise of a hot shower was too enticing to resist, and he quickly gathered his toiletries and a fresh change of clothes. As he stepped into the bathroom, the sound of the rushing water immediately filled the space, creating a soothing ambiance.

He let out a sigh of relief as he stepped under the showerhead, the water smoothing over him with an invigorating force that seemed to wash away the last remnants of travel fatigue. The hotel, as promised, had excellent water pressure, and Spencer couldn't help but revel in the sensation. He closed his eyes, letting the steam envelop him as he began to feel truly awake for the first time since they boarded the plane.

With a renewed sense of calm, Spencer finished his shower and emerged from the bathroom, feeling refreshed and ready to embrace whatever came next. He found you unpacking and couldn’t help but smile, appreciating the small but significant act of settling into this new space together.

"All clean?" you asked, glancing up from the suitcase with a knowing grin.

"Yes," Spencer replied, running a towel through his hair. "And you were right. The water pressure is fantastic."

You chuckled, walking over to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Told you so. Now, are you ready to explore? I figured we could take a walk, get some fresh air, and maybe grab something to eat."

Spencer nodded, feeling more at ease than he had all day. "That sounds perfect," he said, slipping his hand into yours as you both headed out into the world beyond the hotel, eager to make the most of this special time together.

— 

That night, Spencer found himself lying wide awake in the darkened hotel room, his mind racing with thoughts that refused to quiet down. The shadows danced across the ceiling, and the gentle hum of the air conditioning did little to soothe the anxious thrum of his heart. His anxieties swirled relentlessly, fueled by the thought of meeting your family for the first time. 

He couldn't help but wonder what they would think of him. The prospect of meeting your parents was daunting enough, but what about your siblings? Did they have partners? How many people would he have to interact with? Spencer's mind spun with hypothetical scenarios, each one more nerve-wracking than the last. He feared making a poor impression or saying something that would betray his social awkwardness. Would they see him as the socially awkward genius he often felt like, or would they recognize the man you loved?

He turned slightly, glancing over at your sleeping form beside him. The moonlight filtering through the curtains cast a soft glow on your peaceful face, and Spencer felt a wave of gratitude wash over him. You looked so serene, so completely at ease, and he envied your ability to find rest so effortlessly. He couldn't help but feel a deep appreciation for your invitation to join him for the holidays. It was a significant gesture, a sign of trust and affection that meant more to him than he could easily express.

As he watched you sleep, he couldn't shake the guilt that crept in alongside his fears. You had been nothing but supportive and understanding since the day you met, always knowing how to ease his worries with a kind word or a gentle touch. And yet, here he was, plagued by doubts and insecurities. It felt unfair, especially when he knew how excited you were to introduce him to your family.

"If this family raised you," he mused to himself, "they couldn't be all bad." The thought lingered, providing a small comfort amid the turmoil of his mind. After all, if they were responsible for shaping the incredible person you had become, surely they possessed qualities worth admiring.

Spencer let out a soft sigh, rolling onto his back and staring up at the ceiling once more. He tried to focus on the positives—the fact that you wanted him there with you, that you believed in him enough to introduce him to the people who mattered most. It was a gesture of acceptance, a sign that he had become an integral part of your life, and that alone was enough to make him feel a little braver.

In the quiet stillness of the room, he closed his eyes and tried to calm his racing thoughts. He reminded himself that he was not alone in this. You were there, right beside him, and that was more reassuring than anything else. As he listened to the gentle rhythm of your breathing, he slowly began to relax, the warmth of your presence wrapping around him like a comforting blanket.

—

The next morning, Spencer awoke to one of his favorite sights: you, comfortably nestled against the pillows, your hair tousled from sleep. The sun filtered gently through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. You were sitting up with a book in your hands, your glasses slightly askew, an endearing nod to your dedication to the story that had captured your attention even this early in the day.

He watched you quietly for a moment, a soft smile spreading across his face as he took in the familiar scene. There was something immensely comforting about the way you immersed yourself in your book, completely absorbed in the world the author had crafted (he doesn’t know you’re reading smut). It was a reflection of the curiosity and passion that he admired so much in you, a trait that you both shared and often bonded over.

“Good morning,” he finally murmured, his voice still a bit husky from sleep.

You looked up from your book, your eyes brightening as they met his. “Morning, sunshine,” you replied with a playful grin. “I didn’t want to wake you. You seemed like you needed the rest.”

Spencer stretched, feeling the remnants of sleep ease out of his muscles. “I appreciate that,” he said, propping himself up on one elbow. “Didn’t sleep much at first, but I feel better now.”

You set your book aside, giving him your full attention. “Were you up worrying about today?”

He nodded, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “A little bit,” he admitted. “I couldn’t stop thinking about meeting your family. It’s kind of a big deal.”

You reached over, gently adjusting his hair, which had gone a bit wild during the night. “I get it. It is a big deal, but I promise it’s not as scary as it seems. They’re just people who love me, and they’ll love you too because of that.”

Spencer felt his heart swell at your words. Your unwavering confidence in him was like a balm to his nerves, calming the storm of anxiety that had plagued him. “Thank you,” he said sincerely. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Probably stay home and read all day,” you teased, giving his shoulder a light squeeze. “But you’re here with me, and that’s what matters.”

Spencer chuckled, feeling some of the tension lift from his shoulders. “True. I’d much rather be here with you than anywhere else.”

“Oh, just a little fantasy novel,” you replied, holding the book to your chest with a private smile. “Faeries, creatures, magic, the lot.”

Spencer raised an eyebrow, a look of genuine curiosity crossing his face. “Really? I didn’t know you were into fantasy.”

You shrugged playfully, a mischievous glint in your eye. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Doctor Reid. I have a soft spot for worlds where the impossible becomes possible.”

He chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. “I suppose that makes sense. You’ve always had a knack for finding magic in the mundane.”

You leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “I think you’re the one who does that, Spencer. You make even the most ordinary things seem extraordinary.”

He felt a flush of warmth spread across his cheeks at your words. It was moments like these that reminded him of how lucky he was to have you in his life. Despite his initial hesitations, you had shown him a world full of wonder and possibility, much like the stories you loved to read.

As you both settled into the morning, Spencer felt a renewed sense of hope for the day ahead. He knew that with you by his side, he could face whatever challenges awaited him, including meeting your family. Your presence was a reminder that he was not alone in this journey, and that thought brought him more comfort than any reassurance ever could.

With a deep breath, Spencer pulled himself up to sit beside you, the two of you leaning against each other as you shared the quiet morning together. The world outside might have been bustling with holiday cheer, but inside this little bubble, it was just the two of you, wrapped in a cocoon of warmth and understanding.

“Ready to start the day?” you asked, glancing over at him with a smile that made his heart flutter.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Spencer replied, feeling more confident than he had the night before. He was ready to embrace whatever the day had in store, knowing that he had you to guide him through it all.

And so, with a sense of excitement and a touch of nerves, Spencer prepared to meet your family, his heart full of hope and gratitude for the love that had brought him here.

—

As you turned onto your family's street, Spencer's fingers fidgeted nervously in his lap. The drive had been filled with light chatter and music from the radio, but now that you were only moments away from the meeting he had been anxiously anticipating, the familiar weight of worry began to settle back into his chest. He watched the rows of houses pass by, each one decorated with festive lights and wreaths that hinted at the warmth within.

When you pulled into the driveway of your childhood home, you noticed Spencer take a deep breath, his eyes fixed on the cozy-looking house adorned with strings of colorful Christmas lights. You could feel the slight tremor in his hand as you reached over to give it a reassuring squeeze.

Turning to him, you offered a soft smile, trying to ease his apprehension. "Spencer," you said gently, "are you sure you're ready for this? We can always take a few more minutes if you need to."

He met your gaze, the earnestness in your eyes helping to ground him. "I think so," he replied, though the edge of uncertainty in his voice was still present. "I mean, I've faced serial killers and the most dangerous criminals, but this... this is a different kind of pressure."

You chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. "I promise my family isn't as scary as a room full of unsubs."

He laughed softly, the sound easing some of the tension from his frame. "I know, but meeting the people who raised you... it's important. I just want to make a good impression."

"You will," you assured him, leaning over to brush a gentle kiss across his lips. "They'll love you just as much as I do. Besides, you've already made an amazing impression on me, and that's not an easy feat."

Spencer's smile widened, the warmth of your words settling comfortably around him. He took a moment to look at the house again, imagining the family inside who had shaped the person he cherished so deeply. The thought was daunting but also exciting in a way he hadn’t expected.

"Okay," he said with a renewed sense of determination, "let’s get inside."

"That's the spirit," you said, giving his hand one last squeeze before opening your door. Spencer followed suit, stepping out into the crisp morning air and taking in the sight of your family home, with its inviting front porch and the faint aroma of pine and cinnamon wafting from within.

Together, you made your way up the front steps, your fingers intertwined with his, a tangible reminder that he wasn't facing this moment alone. As you reached the door, you gave him a reassuring nod before ringing the bell, signaling the start of a holiday filled with new memories and possibilities.

The door swung open with a dramatic flair, revealing your sibling, Charlie, standing there with an expression of gleeful mischief painted across their face. "Y/N!" they exclaimed with a sing-song voice, their eyes gleaming with the thrill of having caught you red-handed. "I saw you kissing in the driveway!"

You sighed, rolling your eyes but unable to suppress a small smile at Charlie's antics. "Charlie! You had sex in Mom and Dad's bed! Are we even?"

Charlie feigned shock, clutching their chest with mock indignation. "Lips are sealed," they said with a smirk, clearly amused by the little exchange. Then, their gaze shifted past you to the man standing beside you. "Who is this beautiful man?"

You couldn't help but chuckle at Charlie's dramatic introduction to Spencer. "This is Doctor Spencer Reid," you said, gesturing to him with a flourish as if presenting a prize. "I found him on the corner. Only $20 an hour, can you believe that?"

Spencer, who had been standing there looking slightly bewildered by the sibling banter, let out a nervous laugh. He adjusted his glasses, clearly unsure how to respond to the unexpected introduction. "Well, technically, it’s a little more than that, considering inflation and all," he said with a small smile, his awkward charm instantly endearing.

Charlie burst out laughing, their eyes crinkling at the corners. "Oh, he's a keeper, Y/N! I mean, you found a guy who's both handsome and economically savvy? What more could you ask for?"

You and Spencer both laughed, the tension easing from the room as Charlie's infectious energy lightened the mood. It was moments like these that made you grateful for having such a lively and supportive sibling, someone who could turn any situation into a moment of joy and laughter.

As you walked deeper into the house, the familiar warmth and coziness enveloped you both. The comforting scent of home, mixed with the aroma of freshly baked cookies, filled the air. Spencer hesitated slightly as he stepped inside, taking in the comforting chaos of your family home, and the subtle charm that only a loving household could offer.

Charlie led the way, beckoning you both into the living room where the sound of a football game played on the TV. The announcer's voice carried through the house, mingling with the occasional cheer from the fans in the stadium. The room was filled with soft, golden light from the fireplace, casting a warm glow over everything.

As you rounded the corner, you found your mom and other sibling, Finley, lounging on the couch with a bowl of popcorn in their lap. Their attention was momentarily focused on the game, but they quickly looked up as you entered, a wide grin spreading across their face.

"Hey! Look who finally decided to show up!" Finley called out, putting the popcorn aside and standing up to greet you. They wrapped you in a quick hug, squeezing you tightly as if to make up for lost time. You could feel the warmth of their embrace, the familiar scent of home that always brought a sense of comfort and belonging.

"It's so good to see you, Fin," you said, pulling back slightly to look at them. "I've missed this place."

Finley grinned, giving you a playful nudge. "Well, it's about time you came back. We’ve got a lot to catch up on."

Then, Finley turned their attention to Spencer, their expression friendly and curious. "And you must be Spencer," they said, smiling with genuine enthusiasm. "I've heard a lot about you. All good things, I promise."

Spencer returned the smile, trying to channel his best impression of confidence. “It’s nice to meet you, Finley,” he replied, feeling a little more at ease thanks to Finley's welcoming demeanor. “I’ve heard quite a bit about you too.”

Finley chuckled, a twinkle of mischief in their eyes. “All good things, I hope,” they teased, shooting a knowing glance at you.

You rolled your eyes playfully, feeling the warmth of the familial atmosphere settle around you. “Mostly good,” you teased back, “but I might have left out the parts about your questionable taste in movies.”

Finley gasped in mock offense, clutching their chest dramatically. “Hey, my taste in movies is impeccable! It’s just...unique.”

Your mom, who had been quietly observing the exchange with a smile, finally chimed in. “Don’t mind Finley, Spencer. They love to exaggerate. We’re just really glad you could join us for the holidays.”

Her voice was warm and welcoming, instantly putting Spencer at ease. He nodded, grateful for the kindness being extended to him. “Thank you for having me, Mrs. L/N. It’s nice to be here.”

“Please, call me Sandy,” she insisted with a wave of her hand. “We’re all family here, after all.”

Spencer nodded, feeling a small weight lift from his shoulders. Your mother’s acceptance was a reassuring start, and he couldn’t help but feel grateful for how natural this all seemed. 

As you settled into the living room, Coconut, your dog, padded over, sniffing curiously at the newcomer. The dog’s tail wagged enthusiastically, thumping against the floor with each swing.

Spencer knelt down to greet Coconut, his fingers gently scratching behind the dog’s ears. “Hello, Coconut,” he said softly, his touch unsure at first but growing more confident as Coconut leaned into him, clearly enjoying the attention.

You smiled, watching the interaction with a fondness that only grew as Coconut plopped down at Spencer’s feet, making himself comfortable. “I think Coconut likes you,” you observed, giving Spencer an encouraging nod. “That’s a pretty high honor.”

Spencer chuckled, feeling the tension in his shoulders ease further. “I suppose that’s a good sign,” he replied, continuing to pet the dog as Coconut rolled over, demanding belly rubs.

Your mom settled back onto the couch, a cup of coffee in hand, her attention shifting between the game and the scene unfolding before her. “So, Spencer, do you follow football?” she asked, glancing over with genuine interest.

“Not extensively,” Spencer admitted, “but I know a bit about it. The strategies can be quite fascinating.”

Your mom nodded, pleased with his response. “Finley here is the real football fanatic. They make sure we’re watching all the big games.”

“Guilty as charged,” Finley said with a grin, tossing a popcorn kernel into their mouth. “But don’t worry, we’re not too intense about it. It’s more about enjoying the day together.”

You reached over and gave Spencer’s hand a reassuring squeeze, sensing that he was beginning to relax. “We’re just happy to have you here, Spence. Family is about spending time together, not about impressing anyone.”

Spencer nodded, the warmth of your words resonating with him. As he settled back into the couch, he realized that this was exactly what he had always imagined a family gathering to be: relaxed, full of laughter, and surrounded by people who cared for one another.

As the game continued, you and Spencer joined in the lighthearted banter and conversations that filled the room. It wasn’t long before he found himself genuinely enjoying the company, the initial nerves giving way to a sense of belonging that he hadn’t anticipated.

With Coconut snuggled at his feet and your hand in his, Spencer began to see that maybe, just maybe, this Christmas would be as magical as the ones he’d read about in stories.

“Did I hear my favorite child is back?” your dad teased as he walked in from the kitchen, a towel slung over his shoulder and a warm smile on his face. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and holiday spices trailed behind him, adding to the cozy atmosphere of the room.  

"Dad!" you exclaimed, jumping up from the couch and hurrying over to give him a hug. "I've missed you!"  

He enveloped you in a bear hug, squeezing tightly before holding you at arm’s length to get a good look at you. “You look great, kiddo. I was just thinking that the house feels complete now that you’re here.”  

You laughed, feeling the genuine warmth of your dad's words. “It’s good to be home. And look, I even brought a guest!” You stepped aside to gesture toward Spencer, who was now standing a little uncertainly, unsure of what kind of greeting to expect.  

Your dad turned his attention to Spencer, his eyes twinkling with curiosity. “Ah, you must be Spencer,” he said, striding over to shake his hand. “We’ve heard a lot about you, son. Welcome to the family.”  

Spencer’s nerves eased slightly at the friendliness in your dad’s tone. He returned the handshake with a grateful nod. “Thank you, sir. It’s a pleasure to meet you. And thank you for having me.”  

Your dad waved off the formalities with a chuckle. “None of that ‘sir’ business. You can call me Bruce.” He turned to the rest of the room, saying, “Now that everyone’s here, we can finally get this holiday started right!”  

"Already trying to win the Best Dad Award, huh?" Finley quipped, tossing a playful grin his way.  

Your dad shrugged, feigning innocence. "Well, I’m just trying to stay ahead in the rankings. Gotta keep you kids on your toes."  

“Don’t worry, Dad,” you said, shooting Finley a teasing glance. “You’ve got nothing to worry about. You’ve always been my favorite.”  

Spencer watched the exchange with a small smile, feeling a sense of warmth at the easy banter. The rapport you had with your family was evident, and it was a relief to see how effortlessly you slipped back into the rhythm of home.  

As your dad settled into the armchair by the fireplace, he picked up a steaming mug of coffee from the side table, taking a satisfied sip. “So, Spencer, are you ready for the full holiday experience? We’ve got quite the lineup of activities planned.”

“Oh, um, yes. Looking forward to it,” Spencer replied, attempting to match your dad’s enthusiasm while simultaneously scanning his memory for any relevant data on traditional holiday festivities. 

“Don’t worry, Spence. He’s teasing,” you assured him, a playful smile spreading across your face. “We don’t do too much. A quick present exchange, some of Dad’s famous cooking, and a lot of drinking.”

Spencer chuckled, feeling a wave of relief wash over him. “That sounds like something I can handle,” he said, relaxing further into the cozy atmosphere of the living room.

“Just be prepared,” Finley added, shooting your dad a mischievous grin. “Dad’s cooking is legendary. He’ll try to send you home with a week’s worth of leftovers if you’re not careful.”

Your dad feigned indignation, placing a hand over his heart. “Hey, I take pride in my culinary skills. Besides, isn’t that what the holidays are for? Making sure everyone leaves with full bellies and fond memories.”

“That, and making sure we all drink enough eggnog to last us till next year,” you teased, giving your dad a playful nudge.

Your dad chuckled, raising his mug in a mock toast. “To family traditions, then. May they never fade.”

Spencer smiled, feeling the warmth of your family’s love and joy seep into his bones. He realized that the dynamics in this household were vastly different from the ones he had grown up with, but in the best possible way. Here, there was a sense of ease and openness that made him feel welcome, despite being the newcomer.

—

You and Spencer walked back to the hotel room hand in hand, the crisp evening air wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. After a casual dinner with your family, filled with laughter and easy conversation around the football game, Spencer seemed more relaxed than he had been earlier in the day. 

As you entered the room, you couldn't help but tease him, “So, how do you feel? Were they as scary as you thought?”

Spencer chuckled, shaking his head as he slipped off his shoes and hung up his coat. “Honestly? Not at all. I was so worried for nothing. Your family is wonderful. They were so welcoming, and it made me feel at ease.”

You smiled, feeling a sense of pride in your family's hospitality. “I told you they’d love you. But I understand why you were nervous; meeting a partner’s family is always a big step.”

“Yeah,” Spencer agreed, sitting on the edge of the bed and looking thoughtful. “I think it was the idea of making a good impression. I just wanted everything to go smoothly, and it did. Your dad’s humor really helped break the ice. And Finley... well, I wasn’t expecting the football trivia quiz, but it was actually fun.”

You laughed, remembering the light-hearted trivia challenge Finley had orchestrated during halftime. “Finley does have a way of keeping things interesting. They were trying to see if you’d fit into our family banter, and it seems like you passed with flying colors.”

Spencer leaned back against the pillows, a content smile playing on his lips. “Your family dynamic is so different from what I’m used to, but in a really good way. There’s so much love and warmth in your home.”

You joined him on the bed, resting your head on his shoulder. “I’m really glad you’re here to experience it with us. I know it’s not easy to put yourself out there, but you did great. I couldn’t have asked for a better day.”

Spencer wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer. “Thank you for inviting me. I’m happy I got to meet them, and it’s nice to be part of something so special. Plus, your dad’s cooking was definitely a highlight. I’m still thinking about those garlic mashed potatoes.”

You smiled, pleased to see how comfortable and at home he felt. “Dad does make a mean mashed potato. I’m glad you enjoyed it all.”

After a moment of silence, Spencer turned to look at you, his expression thoughtful. “You know, spending the day with your family made me realize something. I’ve always been a little afraid of getting too close to people, of letting them in. But being with you and your family... it feels different. It feels right.”

His words warmed your heart, and you met his gaze with a soft smile. “I’m glad to hear that, Spencer. You’re a part of my life now, and I want you to feel like you belong here, with us.”

Spencer nodded, feeling the sincerity in your words. “I do. And it’s because of you. You make everything feel less daunting, and I’m grateful for that.”

You leaned in to kiss him gently, feeling the connection between you deepen. “I’m grateful for you too, Spencer. This Christmas is already one of the best I’ve ever had, and it’s because you’re here.”

He returned the kiss, feeling a sense of peace and happiness that he hadn’t felt in a long time. Being with you, experiencing the warmth and love of your family, had opened his eyes to the possibilities of what life could be when shared with someone who truly cared.

As the night wore on, you and Spencer talked about everything and nothing, wrapped in the comfort of each other’s presence. The city outside was alive with the sounds of the holiday season, but inside the hotel room, it felt like time had slowed down, leaving just the two of you to savor the moment.

“Goodnight, Spencer. I love you,” you said softly, slipping under the covers and curling up beside him.

“Goodnight,” he replied, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close. “Thank you for today.”

As sleep began to take hold, Spencer realized that he was no longer plagued by the anxieties that had haunted him the night before. Instead, he felt a deep sense of contentment and belonging, knowing that he was exactly where he was meant to be—with you.

—

The holidays had been a whirlwind of joy and laughter, each day unfolding with new experiences and moments of bonding that brought Spencer closer to your family. From playing with Coconut in the backyard to cozy evenings by the fire, the week had been a beautiful blend of warmth and happiness that Spencer had never quite experienced before.

On your last night at your family home, your dad approached Spencer with an unexpected invitation. "Hey, Spencer," he said with a friendly nod, "how about joining me for a drink on the back porch? It's a bit of a family tradition."

Spencer blinked in surprise, feeling both honored and slightly apprehensive. He had learned throughout the week that your dad was a man of deep wisdom and care, and being invited for a private conversation felt significant. As he followed your dad out to the back porch, Spencer couldn’t help but wonder if this was going to be the talk — the one where your dad would lay down the law about how he expected his daughter to be treated.

The night air was crisp and cool, stars twinkling overhead as Spencer and your dad settled into the comfortable chairs on the patio. Your dad handed Spencer a glass of whiskey, the amber liquid catching the light from the porch lamp.

"Thanks," Spencer said, taking the glass with a slight nod. He took a sip, feeling the warmth of the drink spread through him, doing little to ease the nerves bubbling in his stomach.

They sat in companionable silence for a few moments, the quiet hum of the neighborhood providing a peaceful backdrop. Spencer braced himself, expecting the shovel talk that he’d often seen dramatized in movies.

Finally, your dad turned to him, a gentle smile on his face. “Spencer, I wanted to talk to you about something,” he began, his tone thoughtful yet reassuring.

Spencer looked over, curious and slightly terrified. “Oh?” he replied, unsure of what to expect.

Your dad chuckled softly, taking a sip from his glass. “I’ve seen how you are with Y/N these past few days. The love and care you have for her is plain as day. And I just wanted to tell you how much I appreciate that.”

Spencer blinked, taken aback by the unexpected compliment. He felt his heart swell with emotion, a mixture of relief and gratitude washing over him.

“I know Y/N doesn’t need anyone to take care of her,” your dad continued, his voice steady and sincere. “She’s always been independent and strong, and I’ve never doubted her ability to stand on her own two feet. But it makes me happy to see that she has someone like you in her life—someone who clearly loves and respects her.”

Spencer was speechless, his mind racing to process the words. He had prepared himself for a stern lecture, but instead, he found himself enveloped in a warmth he hadn’t expected.

“Thank you,” Spencer finally managed to say, his voice thick with emotion. “That means a lot to me. More than I can express.”

Your dad nodded, his gaze steady and kind. “I know you didn’t have the best relationship with your own father,” he said, his tone gentle as he broached the sensitive subject. “But if you ever need someone to talk to, for advice or anything else, know that you can always come to me. You’re part of the family now.”

The offer left Spencer profoundly moved, a lump forming in his throat. He had never expected to find this kind of acceptance and support, especially from someone who barely knew him. The absence of a father figure in his life had always been a quiet ache, and here was an unexpected balm for that wound.

“I... I really appreciate that,” Spencer said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve never had someone I could go to for that kind of support. It means more than I can say.”

Your dad reached over, giving Spencer’s shoulder a reassuring pat. “We’re glad to have you with us, Spencer. You make Y/N happy, and that’s all a parent can really ask for.”

Spencer nodded, feeling a sense of belonging that he hadn’t anticipated when he first arrived for the holidays. The conversation had taken a turn he hadn’t expected, filling him with a profound gratitude for the connection he was forming with your family.

They sat together for a while longer, exchanging stories and insights about life, relationships, and everything in between. As the evening deepened and the stars twinkled above, Spencer felt an overwhelming sense of peace and contentment.

Later, when he returned to the warmth of the house, he found you waiting in the living room, curiosity dancing in your eyes. “How was it?” you asked, a knowing smile tugging at your lips.

Spencer smiled, his heart full. “It was... wonderful,” he said simply. “Your dad is amazing. I feel really lucky to have met all of you.”

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. “I knew they’d love you, Spence. And I’m so glad you’re part of my life.”

He held you close, feeling the truth of your words settle deep in his heart. For the first time in a long while, he felt truly at home, surrounded by love and acceptance in a way that he hadn’t thought possible.

—

Later that night, Spencer found himself lying awake in the hotel room. The day's events played over and over in his mind, the words from your dad echoing with a resonance he hadn’t fully anticipated.  

You were already asleep beside him, your breath slow and steady, a comforting rhythm that usually soothed his racing thoughts. But tonight, Spencer felt a wave of emotion rising within him, a tide of feelings that he could no longer keep at bay.  

He had been holding it together all day, trying to process the overwhelming acceptance he had found in your family, the kind of love and support he had rarely experienced growing up. Now, in the quiet darkness of the room, the dam finally broke.  

Silent tears began to slip down his cheeks, tears of joy mixed with a deep, profound sense of healing. For the first time, Spencer allowed himself to feel the full weight of what he had been missing all these years—the absence of a father figure who cared, the lack of a family who embraced him fully and unconditionally.  

His younger self, the boy who had longed for approval and a sense of belonging, seemed to stir within him. Memories of lonely holidays and awkward family gatherings resurfaced, but they were now met with the warm, soothing balm of the acceptance he had found with your family.  

The tears continued to flow, and though they were born from happiness, they carried the weight of years of unspoken pain. Spencer turned slightly, trying to muffle his sobs against the pillow, not wanting to wake you. But the tears wouldn’t stop, and soon, the quiet sounds of his crying filled the room.  

You stirred beside him, sensing his distress even in your sleep. Blinking sleepily, you turned to him, concern immediately etching across your features as you registered the tears glistening in his eyes.  

“Spencer?” you whispered, your voice gentle and soothing as you reached out to touch his arm. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

He shook his head, trying to find the words to explain the cascade of emotions washing over him. “I’m sorry,” he choked out, his voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I’m just... overwhelmed, I guess.”

You shifted closer, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him into a comforting embrace. “Hey, it’s okay,” you murmured, your voice soft and reassuring. “You don’t have to apologize. Just tell me what’s going on.”

Spencer took a shaky breath, trying to compose himself enough to explain. “It’s just... your dad, your family, everything,” he said, struggling to articulate the depth of his feelings. “I never expected to feel so accepted, so welcomed. It’s like... it’s like a part of me that’s been missing is finally starting to heal.”

Understanding dawned on you, and you held him tighter, your heart aching with empathy for the man you loved. “Oh, Spencer,” you whispered, feeling the weight of his words. “You deserve all of that and so much more. You’re part of our family now, and we love you for exactly who you are.”

He nodded, the tears flowing freely now as he allowed himself to fully embrace the reality of your words. The younger version of himself, the one who had always felt out of place, began to quiet, soothed by the knowledge that he was finally where he belonged. 

As he held onto this newfound sense of peace, Spencer whispered something he hadn’t quite had the courage to say before. “I love you,” he murmured, the words slipping out like a gentle exhalation of truth. 

You froze for a moment, not sure if you heard correctly. The quiet intensity in his voice seemed to linger in the air between you. “What was that?” you asked softly, wanting to be sure you had heard him right, a gentle smile starting to form on your lips.

Spencer met your eyes, his expression both tender and vulnerable. “I love you,” he repeated, a little louder this time, the conviction in his voice clear and unwavering. It was as though saying the words aloud had finally solidified them in his heart.

A warmth spread through you, a feeling of joy and completeness that you hadn’t realized you were longing for. You wrapped your arms around him tighter, your heart soaring at his heartfelt confession. 

“I love you too, Spencer,” you replied, your voice filled with sincerity and happiness. “So much.”

He let out a breath he’d been holding, relief and joy mingling with the last traces of his tears. The weight of his past fears seemed to dissolve, leaving behind only the certainty of the moment and the bond you shared. 

“I’ve wanted to tell you for so long,” Spencer admitted, his voice still a bit shaky from the emotional release. “But I was scared I wouldn’t be able to do it justice, to make you understand how much you mean to me.”

You reached up, gently cupping his face with your hand, your thumb brushing away the remnants of his tears. “You didn’t have to worry, Spencer. I’ve always known. Your actions speak louder than words, and I’ve felt your love in everything you do.”

He leaned into your touch, feeling a profound sense of gratitude and contentment. “You’ve changed my life in ways I never thought possible,” he said, his eyes locked onto yours with a sincerity that made your heart swell.

You smiled, feeling tears of your own threatening to spill over. “And you’ve changed mine,” you replied, your voice filled with emotion. “I can’t imagine my life without you in it.”

Spencer let out a soft, shaky laugh, feeling lighter and more at peace than he had in years. He pulled you closer, reveling in the warmth and comfort of your embrace, knowing that this was where he was meant to be.

As the two of you lay together, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you and the love that bound you. Spencer realized that he was no longer defined by the loneliness of his past but by the connection and happiness he had found with you.

In that moment, he knew that the future was bright, filled with endless possibilities and the promise of shared adventures. With you by his side, Spencer felt ready to face whatever came next, secure in the knowledge that he was loved and accepted for exactly who he was.

As the night deepened and sleep finally began to claim you both, Spencer held onto the truth of his feelings, knowing that he had finally found the home he had always been searching for—in you.

—

The next morning dawned crisp and bright, with the sky painted in shades of soft pastels. As you packed up your belongings and prepared to head back home, there was a bittersweet feeling in the air. The holiday had been a whirlwind of joy and connection, and neither you nor Spencer was quite ready to say goodbye to the warmth of your family.  

As you made your way through the house, exchanging hugs and well-wishes, Spencer felt a familiar tug of anxiety mixed with gratitude. This time, however, the anxiety wasn’t accompanied by fear but by a deep appreciation for the acceptance he had found within your family.  

When it came time to say goodbye to your dad, Spencer found himself standing on the front porch, the crisp winter air wrapping around him. Your dad approached with a warm smile, extending his hand for a farewell shake.  

“It was great having you here, Spencer,” your dad said, his voice filled with genuine warmth. “You’re welcome back anytime.”

Spencer shook his hand, feeling the sincerity in your dad’s grip. “Thank you for everything, Bruce,” Spencer replied, his voice a little rough with emotion. “It’s been wonderful to be part of your family for the holidays.”

Your dad paused for a moment, then gave Spencer’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “You know,” he said thoughtfully, “you don’t have to call me Bruce anymore. Just call me Dad.”

Spencer’s eyes widened, a fresh wave of emotion washing over him. He felt the tears prickling at the corners of his eyes, his heart swelling with a mixture of gratitude and love. This simple gesture, this offer of familial connection, meant more to him than he could express.

“I... thank you, Dad,” Spencer managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper as he swallowed the lump in his throat. “Goodbye, Dad.”

Your dad gave him a nod, the look in his eyes filled with understanding and acceptance. “Take care of yourself, Spencer. And remember, if you ever need anything, I’m just a phone call away.”

Spencer nodded, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill over. “I will. Thank you.”

You watched the exchange with a full heart, knowing how much this meant to Spencer. As you wrapped up your goodbyes, you could see the mix of emotions playing across his face—the joy of being embraced by your family and the sadness of leaving it behind.

Once you were in the car, Spencer settled into the passenger seat, his mind still processing the weight of the morning’s farewell. He was quiet, lost in thought, and you could tell that he was holding back tears as he reflected on the kindness and acceptance he had been shown.

“Hey,” you said softly, reaching over to give his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Are you okay?”

Spencer nodded, though his eyes were glassy with unshed tears. “Yeah, I just... I never expected any of this. It’s overwhelming, in a good way.”

You gave him a warm smile, understanding exactly what he meant. “Take your time. I’ll drive us to the airport.”

Spencer nodded gratefully, letting out a shaky breath as he tried to compose himself. You started the car and pulled out of the driveway, leaving the cozy warmth of your family home behind as you began the journey back to reality.

As you drove, Spencer gazed out the window, watching the landscape blur by. The silence in the car was comfortable, a space for him to gather his thoughts and emotions. He marveled at how much had changed in such a short time, feeling a deep sense of gratitude for the love and acceptance he had found.

He reached over, intertwining his fingers with yours, feeling the warmth of your touch grounding him. “I never knew I could feel so... at home. You’ve given me something I didn’t even know I was missing.”

As you both made your way through the airport, ready to embark on the next chapter of your journey together, Spencer knew that whatever lay ahead, he was no longer alone. He had you by his side, a family that embraced him, and a heart full of love that would guide him every step of the way.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

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[hsunrry]

christmas lights // one shot

harry styles x fem!reader

summary: some fun christmas time with your husband.

|| masterlist ||

words: ~1,5k

warnings: smut18+, praise, tying up, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie

a/n: merry christmas everyone!

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

“i’m home!” he called when he walked into the house. he grinned when he saw you in the living room, quickly approaching you, picking you up and spinning you around. “hey beautiful.” he pressed a soft kiss onto your lips, putting you down and wrapping his arms around your shoulders. “what were you doing when i was gone?”

“i grabbed everything necessary from basement to decorate the christmas tree.” you smiled, looking up at him. his eyes lit up with excitement.

“no way, really? that’s brilliant.” he squeezed you gently. he glanced towards living room, already imagining colourful tree.

“mhm, but i was hoping you could help me with it.” you said. he chuckled and ruffled your hair playfully.

“of course i will. i’m the muscle in this operation after all.” he flexed his muscles jokingly.

“okay, you go grab it from basement and i’ll make a space for it in the living room.” you pecked his lips quickly, rushing further into the room. he watched you making space for it for a few seconds, before heading to the basement. he carried the tree up effortlessly, placing it in the stand you prepared. you started opening boxes with ornaments and christmas lights. he smiled to himself, watching you looking like a kid on christmas morning.

“this is perfect.” he smiled, kneeling beside you to help sort through the ornaments.

“oh, those are the old ones.” you mumbled, grabbing a string of the lights. “i’m not even sure if they’re working.” you chuckled softly. he picked it up from you with a small frown, moving to plug them in. he smiled when the lights flickered to life. you laid down on the fluffy rug, stretching a little. he unraveled the string, checking each plastic bulb to make sure they all worked. as he did, he glanced at you sprawled out on the rug, looking cozy and content. idea popped inside his head when he looked at you. “what are you doing?” you chuckled, looking at him hovering over you, his knees on the both sides of your hips. he smirked, lowering himself down, his lips inches from yours.

“i thought you might need help testing the comfort of this rug.” his voice was low and teasing as he nudged your nose with his playfully.

“oh really?” you smiled. his fingers slowly lifted your t-shirt, revealing your stomach. he tossed it aside, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled mischievously.

“you know, for accuracy in our rug comfort test, we should really be in our most comfortable state.”

“mhm.” you hummed, taking off his t-shirt as well. his bare chest pressing against yours now. his hands slid up your sides slowly.

“see? much more comfortable now, don’t you think?” he looked at the christmas lights shining above your head, grabbing them. you raised your eyebrow, not sure what his idea was. “what?” he chuckled. “i’m just adding a little… ambiance to our test.” he grabbed your hands, placing them above your head.

“babe, you’re aware that that’s for the tree and not to tie me, right?” you chuckled. he smirked, wrapping the lights around your wrists and securing them gently.

“nah, these lights are much more useful for this purpose, don’t you think?” he asked. you tilted your head back to watch him tying you up. he grinned, looking at you all tied up with the lights. he leaned down, pressing soft kiss to your neck, before draping the lights over your arms and torso, creating a festive glow around you. “there, now you’re the most adorable christmas decoration i’ve ever seen.” you rolled your eyes playfully at his words, feeling him taking off your sweatpants along with your panties. he admired the sight of you lying there completely naked underneath him. he ran his fingers through your hair. “you know, i think this rug test is going to take a lot longer than i initially thought.”

“really? couldn’t tell.” you bite back a smile. he chuckled, his fingers tracing patterns on your stomach as he looked at you.

“let’s see… the rug is soft. check. you’re warm. check. you’re tied up with christmas lights and naked. double check.” he grinned, wrapping his lips around your nipple, making you gasp. he sucked gently, his free hand fondling the other one, playing with it and rolling it between his fingers. he looked up at you, his eyes shining with desire as he continued to tease your peaks, the christmas lights casting a warm glow over your body. he took off his sweatpants and boxers in meantime. he positioned himself more comfortably on top of you, spreading your legs wider. “you know…” he started, his fingers stroking along your wet folds and checking if you’re ready. his breath teased your ear as he whispered. “all this testing has gotten me in quite the festive spirit. might have to make this a yearly tradition, don’t you think?”

“definitely.” you smiled, gasping right after when his two fingers entered you. he began to move them slowly, curling them to hit that perfect spot inside you. his thumb circled your clit in teasing motions as he kept his eyes locked with yours. you moaned when he added third finger, stretching you out as he continued to pump them in and out of your tight heat. his mouth covered yours in a passionate kiss, swallowing down your moans as he fingered you faster now.

“you’re so fucking tight, love.” he murmured against your lips. after few thrusts he withdrew his fingers slowly, bringing them up to his lips to suck them clean. he positioned himself between your thighs, rubbing his length against you teasingly.

“babe, come on.” you looked at him. he smirked at your impatience, lining himself up at your entrance. he pushed in just the tip.

“what’s the magic word, sweetheart?” he teased softly, holding himself back as he looked down at you, perfectly tied up.

“please.” you whined. he chuckled, pushing in deeper with each thrust, taking his time to fill you completely.

“that’s my good girl.” he praised as he bottomed out, giving you a moment to adjust before he started to move slowly, his hips rolling against yours with each thrust. you moaned softly, your body arching. his hands gripped your thighs possessively as he lifted them higher, wrapping your legs around his waist. he began to move faster, hitting deeper spots inside you that made you whimper. he loved the way you looked tied up and helpless beneath him. his movements became more intense, driven by primal urge to claim and please. “fuck, you have no idea how sexy you look right now.”

“you feel so good.” you gasped. he leaned down to capture your lips again as he continued to thrust rhythmically. his movements became more deliberate, targeting that sweet spot deep inside you that made you tremble and moan. when he finally found the perfect angle your head snapped back with loud cry. “fuck! right there!” a smug smile played across his lips as he maintained exactly what you needed, staring down at your pleasure-wracked face.

“that’s my girl. like that spot?” he reached one hand between your bodies, adding some pressure on your clit with gentle circles. you nodded breathlessly. “use your words, love. i want to hear you say it.” his thrust became faster, more demanding. “tell me you love how i’m fucking you like this.” his voice was husky with desire, his control slipping.

“i love that, i fucking love that.” you moaned. his eyes rolled back at your words, deep groan escaping his throat as he pounded into you harder.

“fuck yes! you love it when i tie you up and fuck you raw?” he pressed his fingers to your clit harder.

“yes.” you gasped.

“louder. i want to hear you say it!” he growled, his hips slapping against yours as he chased his release and yours simultaneously. “say ‘i love being tied up and fucked raw by my husband!’”

“i love being tied up and fucked raw -fucking god- by my husband.” you whined. overcome with lust hearing you proudly proclaim such dirty desires, he increased his intensity. his rock-hard dick plunging deep. “i’m gonna come.” you gasped.

“come for me then, love. i want to feel your pussy squeeze the fucking life out of my dick.” he snarled, his own release just on the cusp.

“yes, yes, oh fuck!” you cried out, clenching around his dick. your tied up body arching off the rug. the sensations sent him over the edge. with a loud, guttural groan, he buried himself deep, releasing inside you. his hot seed pulsing and filling you up as he continued to grind through his own intense orgasm.

“fuck, i love you so much.” he panted.

“i love you too.” you gasped breathlessly. he leaned down and captured your lips in a heated kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth. when he pulled out, he smiled lazily at you.

[ozarkthedog]

𝐲𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐞

summary: being an assistant to a Hollywood star has its perks like attending a lavish holiday event that’s brimming with celebrities.

warnings: fluff! dieter bravo x afab!reader. meet cute? kissing. Christmas vibes. mistletoe. dieter being his usual silly self. w.c: 1.7k

author’s note: this is a gift for @jennaispunk via the @dieterbravobrainrotclub Holiday Gift Exchange! I hope you enjoy this lil’ fic, Jenn! Happy Holidays, lovely! 💙 thank you @sp00kymulderr for hosting!

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ⋅ 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 ⋅ 𝐃𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐨 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

It was the kind of holiday party where everything felt just a little bit brighter—lights twinkling from every corner, the smell of cinnamon and pine hanging in the air, laughter rising over soft jazz in the background. A sleek modern mansion nestled in the Hollywood Hills hosting the annual gathering.

You adjusted the straps of your dress while you sat at the bar. It was a sleek dark red velvet number you'd picked up on sale, hoping it'd help you fit into the glamorous party and not stick out like a sore thumb.

You glanced at your phone, scrolling through a few emails you needed to catch up on. As an assistant to one of the hottest new actors in Hollywood, your life was a constant balancing act, but tonight, for once, it was about a bit of relaxation. 

"Feel free to unwind," Your boss says, adjusting their outfit in the back seat of the SUV on the way to the festive soiree. "No need to keep an eye on me. Darren Eigan will be there, so I'll be stuck to him like glue."

You turn in your seat and lean against the bar, surveying the party. From across the room, you spy your boss eagerly chatting up the infamous director. They'd gushed about wanting to work with him for years. You couldn't blame them for trying.

Your eyes scanned the room again as you slowly sipped the tart purple wine. You'd never been a drinker, so the glass felt more like a prop than something to enjoy.

A raucous laugh catches your ear.

He was standing, drinking glass in hand, with a group of people near the opening of a dazzling archway decorated with little sprigs of green mistletoe tied with a bright red bow.

You knew a fake laugh from a mile away. You learned the craft when you moved to LA, having to grace a phony smile and compliment almost every second of the day. 

Dieter Bravo. Hollywood's reluctant star— known for his roles in blockbusters and indie films and winning an oh-so-coveted Oscar. You were surprised to see him at a party like this. He seemed to be the loner kind, much preferring to work on his art than bullshit his night away.

His salt and pepper curls helped prop the shades he wore like a shield, ready to slip the glasses down his hooked nose and sneak out the back door at a moment's notice. The first three buttons on his black silk shirt were left open; his golden skin glowed in the dim room. His black on black attire looked crisp and expensive, like the gray scruff filling his jaw and lining his lips. 

Something was magnetic about him—his presence drew others in without trying or caring.

Someone in the group spoke, and Dieter laughed again. Another half-hearted smile tugged at his lips before falling into a thin, flat line.

You found yourself slipping from your seat and leaving your drink behind as you moved closer. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe because Dieter resonated with your pain. Even in a crowd full of joy and glittering faces, you felt alone.

As you neared the group, your heel caught on an ugly red and green throw rug, making you tumble into the actor and ceasing the chatter.

"Whoa, hey now," Dieter blurts, catching you with one arm.

He weaved it securely around your waist as you both stumbled away from the group. You clutched his broad shoulders, a safe haven if you ever knew one, and steadied your heels back on the ground. Thankfully, his drink didn’t spill all over his suit and your dress.

"You okay?" Dieter's voice was warm and familiar despite the fact you'd had never met him before. His hands lingered on your waist, a wry thumb rubbing the dark butter like velvet, zeroing all his attention on you.

You cleared your throat and bid the flames that fanned your cheeks away. "I'm so sorry. I normally don't wear heels." You apologize. "Pobody's Nerfect!"

Dieter's dark eyes caught like a bright starscape in the sparkling overhead lights as he laughed wholeheartedly at the silly phrase. It was genuine and natural, forcing himself to hold his belly and bowl over with honest laughter.

As he catches his breath, he wipes a tear from his eye. "Did you come up with that?" 

You shrugged and waved a hand, "I wish. I'm not that clever."

"I highly doubt that." the actor comments, before taking a sip of his drink. “You must be someone special to be invited to a party like this." He raises the glass toward the throngs of people filling the massive living room.

You cock your head. "My boss is someone special. Thankfully, they need me like a goose needs a gaggle."

His eyes go wide once more. "There you go again!" 

You wave him off, but inside, you're melting. 

A waiter places a tray of food on a table to your right, distracting the both of you.

"Do you think anyone actually eats these tiny hors d'oeuvres, or are they for like little Christmas elves?" Dieter asked, glancing at a tray of tiny canapés.

You chuckled. "I'm pretty sure they're just to make the people who aren't drinking feel productive. Like, here, eat this, pretend you're having a full meal."

He laughed again. It gets better every time you hear it— it lights up the room. 

"Wanna be productive with me?" he flirts, picking up one of the tiny snacks and holding it out to you with doe eyes.

You quirked a brow, hesitant for a split second before biting into the canapés. It was absurdly delicious for something so small, and you giggled, caught off guard by how natural it felt to talk to him.

"How do you look so... untouchable on screen and so normal off it?" you question without thinking.

Dieter tilted his head, his smile softening. "I'm really good at pretending." He drifts off, eyes wandering to the floor, thoughts drifting to the front of his mind before he takes a healthy swig from his glass. "Sometimes it's nice to escape yourself for a while."

You nod, understanding the need to run away.  

"Are you working on any new art?" You try to lighten the mood, glancing at the red paint under his trimmed nails. "I can't wait for the next mind-bending piece from the one and only Mr. Bravo."

He smiled again, that knowing, almost mischievous look in his eyes. "Wouldn't little Ms. Canapés like to know." he teases, the warmth in his voice holding something more than just casual conversation.

Just then, someone at the bar called his name. Dieter turned his head, briefly distracted by the person waving him over. You take a timid step back, wishing you had more time with the artist, but before you can move, a reveler nudges you toward the archway where the mistletoe hangs.

You glanced at Dieter, who was still distracted by the call but now seemed to have noticed where you were standing. He looked at you with a wry smirk.

"Do you believe in fate?" he queries, his voice suddenly quieter.

You whisper, heart in your throat. "I suppose so."

He takes a step toward you, his leather wing tips shuffle against the floor, and for a moment, the noise of the party fades as the space between you closes. The dim lights cast shadows that make his features even more inviting. There was something in his gaze—something natural and soft that wasn't at all like the characters he portrayed on screen.

Without a word, he leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a kiss that felt like it had been waiting to happen. It wasn't dramatic or rushed, just slow and honest, as though the mistletoe wasn't just some holiday tradition but the beginning of something unexpected.

When you pull away, Dieter smiles again, this time with a hint of surprise. "That was... festive."

You chuckle, a little breathless. "I hope I'm still on Santa's Nice List now."

"The Nice List?" Dieter raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, don't you want to get what you wished for?" You jibe, grin widening as you step back, giving him space to leave.

Dieter snorts, glancing toward the bar as more people wave him over. "Oh, but I already did," he winks.

Your face flames. You bite your cheek, trying your best to not squeal.

The two of you share one last look before the crowd pulls him away. Neither of you could quite shake the moment. 

As the night continued, shared glances from across the room kept you busy. Every conversation with someone new resulted in sincere apologies when you had them repeat what they said because a particular actor kept stealing your attention.

It seemed you distracted him just as much at times. You caught him dragging his eyes down your frame and back up again. He'd either cower like a thief caught red-handed or gaze at you like he wanted to watch the sun come up with you in his bed. 

The crowd of people slowly dwindled down as the clock struck midnight. Much to your dismay, you'd lost sight of Dieter an hour ago when he stepped out onto the back patio for a smoke with a fellow actor. You begrudgingly slipped on your heavy coat, headed down the front steps to the SUV, idling at the curb, and waited for your boss. 

Leaning against the passenger door, you slowly breathe in the crisp night. The heated feelings that swarmed your belly all evening finally simmered to a rolling boil.

"Canapés?" 

You jerk against the metal door as a voice chimes to your right. You clutch your chest with a gasp.

Dieter appears from the shadows, hands raised, like he's dealing with a stray animal. "Shit, sorry, it's only me." He cringes at the slight fear in your eyes.

"You bastard." You curse with a playful huff. "Wait, did you just call me Canapés?"

He flashes an awkward grin and anxiously rubs the back of his neck. "Well, I forgot to ask your name, and I didn't realize until after we kissed, and then I thought it was too late. I don't want to be "that guy."  Dieter mimes quotations in the air and swallows hard. "So, yeah."

You step closer, your heels clink against the cement, as you whisper your name and slink your arms around his shoulders. Dieter once again weaves his hold around your velvet waist, molding your body to his.

His plush lips brush across yours. "We don't have any mistletoe." He states cheekily.

"I would've kissed you without it in the first place." You confess, pressing your lips to his for another precious moment before he breaks the kiss. 

"Wanna go make it on Santa’s Naughty list with me?" 

feel free to scream at me -> 💌

reblogs & comments are extremely appreciated! follow @ozzieslibrary for new fic updates!

[sergeant-angels-trashcan]

CoD girlies (gender neutral), this one is for you. (but also Sam Wilson coded. anyway)

So. My mom was flying home and she had a stopover in The Big Fucking Airport in Chicago, I don't remember the name right now. The point is, she gets Chicago Pizza for me. And cheesecake.

And on the flight home, she is sat next to a military boy (boy is her designation, not mine. She's three weeks away from seventy, this is not a helpful description)

And she starts talking to him, because that is who my mother is, she finds out that he's coming home for the holidays and then he's getting stationed and such-and-such base.

At some point, because of who she is as a person, and because she had spent nearly two months Momming and Grandmothering as hard as she could and had not yet turned it down, she asks this young man if he is hungry. Is he hungry? Does he need food? She has pizza. Would he like the pizza? Oh, no, no it's okay! Take the pizza! it's fine!

He then reveals that this is the first food he's had all day (it's like 4pm) and my mom :0 and finds more food to give him. As they deplane she gives him $20 which is the last of her American cash. This is the end of the story

My mom. is so, so close to being the meddling matchmaker the sitcoms of my youth promised me she would be, and she drops the ball EVERY. TIME.

However, the point is now I can't stop thinking about this with the CoD boys. Maybe it's not even a few weeks before Christmas, maybe it's the day of due to bad luck or whatever idk idk doesn't matter

Honestly Ghost is objectively the funniest just because he'd be about two feet taller than her and she would absolutely not be intimidated by him. At some point she would share stories from before she retired and would say something about how she "had to take down a big boy like you once" and that "I told him it was a good thing my daughters weren't in town". I'm sorry he would be so fucking endeared by this. And he'd track her down somehow to say thanks or to pay her back and then obviously he gets invited in for baked goods and falls in love with you (me)

Gaz is so effortlessly charming. He asks if he can Venmo her money, and she has no idea what that is. Paypal? She doesn't have one. Her daughter does that, she's not very tech savvy, you know? She goes off on a tangent about having to use a typewriter to write papers in college. Gaz is undeterred--could he send it to this daughter and she could pass it on? Then again, maybe this is a teenager, and him having the number of a random teenager feels weird. He's out of time, they're deplaning. She's hard to keep track of, a short woman, but he's, well, Gaz. He spots her making for a car at the curb, the driver's door opening, and presumably the daughter getting out. Gaz makes a beeline for them. After a moment of confusion, you get introduced to Gaz, who tries to explain the situation while you're being yelled at by airport security and honked at by other drivers. It's not ideal--but he gets your number. He waits maybe an hour before texting you.

Soap is the hardest. My mom struggles so much with British accents so I think she'd get about half of what he says to start with. He'd call her bonnie (cos he's a charmer like that) and she wouldn't know what it means. I think she shows him a LOT of grandkid pictures and he's fully endeared by how she knows her oldest grandchild likes linkin park and slipknot while having no clue who they are. Soap is the one who tracks her to the pickup area and books it to your car so neither of you have to lift her luggage ("your mam said you have shoulder troubles, cannae let you make it worse, aye?"). Something something your hands brush as you reach for the same piece of luggage

Price would be a little awkward until she weasels his age out of him and then she realizes: ah! baby age! boy! (man's 40 max). I think he'd be better at getting her to talk, she's absolutely whipping out her phone (complaining about how it's old and doesn't have enough memory) and showing him pictures of the grandkids and a rundown of their hobbies and trash talking my sister's in-laws just a little. I can imagine her realizing he doesn't have a ride and volunteering you to drop him off at a hotel. You pull up to the curb and are like. Who the fuck is this man towering over my mother. He winds up in the front seat because his legs are longer and he turns so he can keep talking to your mom which is pretty sweet to be honest. You drop him off and it's not til you finally get home and start hauling luggage out that you realize he's left something in your car, maybe his phone or a watch, something important. And you heave a big sigh, haul all the luggage in, hug you mom, and trudge back to the car to drive back to the hotel. Or maybe your mom tells you to return it tomorrow, it's too late and it's raining. And the next afternoon she sends you to the hotel with fresh baked goods for him. He asks you out to lunch and suddenly it's 5 hours later and your mom thinks you're dead in a ditch somewhere because you haven't answered her texts. It's because you're too busy flirting.

[croissantsandblackcoffee]

luigi mangione ⊹ rumination

— he was literally glowing !!!!!! i’m so happy for him. also, i hope they dress him up in winter clothing more often. every single pic of him before he got caught is wearing sleeveless shirts, shorts and flip flops, and the occasional suit. link to the masterlist ;)

riker’s island. thursday, 5:00 PM

you’re feeling really nervous as you walk through the security checks, heading inside the facility to wait. you’ve tried your best to hide the symptoms, but you’ve been feeling a bit of nausea off and on, as well as a bit bloated. nothing too noticeable as of yet.

you take a seat at one of the empty seats, waiting for the guards to bring luigi out. your fingers play with the cord of the telephone, a habit out of nervousness.

as you sit there, waiting, you can’t help but get lost in your thoughts. all sorts of possible conversation starters are going through your head, but none of them seem good enough. how do you even tell someone you’re carrying their child?

eventually, you’re broken out of your thoughts by footsteps, and you look up to see luigi. he seems happy to see you right now, his gaze sweeping over you in that usual fashion he does; a mixture of curiosity and… something else.

“hey, sweetheart,“ he starts as he takes a seat opposite you, putting the phone to his ear. he doesn’t seem to notice the way you’re fidgeting in your seat, or the way you seem a bit more stressed than usual. “how’ve you been?”

“i’ve been alright,” you say, nodding. you try to control your expression, but you’re sure some of your stress is showing. despite everything though, seeing luigi again feels… nice. “how about you?”

he lets out a huff, and he sounds a little annoyed as he speaks.

“bored out of my mind. i mean, seriously — how do these guys expect people to stay sane when there’s nothing to do all day? it’s torture. i swear the only thing keeping me going is these visits with you.”

“oh, yeah?” you raise an eyebrow at that, managing to break past your worries for a moment and feel a bit smug. “so you look forward to my visits? that much?”

“what? of course i do,” he answers immediately, sounding a little incredulous that you’d even ask that. “i mean, sure, the guards are rude and the food sucks, but i… i look forward to seeing you, sweetheart. you’re the best part of my day.”

a small part of you wants to feel smug about it — that luigi finds so much enjoyment from seeing you, that it’s the highlight of his day. but the rest of you just feels guilty. because right now, you know there’s something you need to confess to him. but how the hell do you even bring it up?

eventually, after a small moment of silence, you take a deep breath and decide to hell with subtlety. this is luigi. he’s a mature adult who can handle tough conversations.

“luigi, i… i need to tell you something.”

he notices the change in your tone right away, hearing the more serious edge to your voice. a line appears in his brow, but it’s not a scowl. he looks more confused than anything.

“alright… what is it?” he tilts his head slightly. “you can tell me whatever’s on your mind, baby, you know that.”

“yeah, i know,” you nod, letting out a small sigh and shaking your head. “i just… it’s…”

you stop, taking another deep breath and preparing yourself for what you’re about to say. how the hell do you even bring this conversation up?

“just… don’t interrupt, okay? just let me talk for a minute.”

he looks more confused now, an eyebrow raised in curiosity, but he nods.

“alright,” he says. “i’m listening. go ahead.”

it takes a few more moments before you finally gather up the nerve to start talking. you take a deep breath, trying to arrange your thoughts properly.

“okay,” you begin, looking at him. “do you… do you remember that last time we were together? the conjugal visit a few weeks ago?”

he nods, his eyebrows pulled together. he seems to have an idea of where this conversation is going.

“of course i do. what about it?”

“right. right.” you nod, running a hand through your hair nervously. “well… i… i think something might have… happened, during that time. something that i only discovered a few days ago. and it’s kinda…”

you trail off, taking another deep breath. God, how the hell do you say this?

“it’s kinda what, sweetheart?” he asks quietly, his gaze fixed on you. he looks a little bit worried now, sensing that this is something big.

“well…” you struggle for another few moments, your hand basically gripping the telephone cord. you take another deep breath, steeling yourself as best as you can. “i… i think I’m pregnant.”

there. you said it.

there’s a few seconds of silence between the two of you, and it’s so thick you swear it could be cut with a knife. luigi has just been dropped a massive bomb, and he’s taking a few moments to process it.

right now, you can’t even tell what he’s thinking. his face is completely impossible to read.

eventually, he sighs.

“christ…” he mutters under his breath, before looking back up at you. there’s a mix of emotions in his expression — disbelief, shock, more disbelief, etc. “are… are you sure?” he asks. “like, 100% certain?”

“i’m sure. i took two tests, and both of them came up positive. and i’ve… i’ve had some other symptoms as well. so… yeah. i’m positive. i’m pregnant, luigi.”

his eyes are fixated on you, his mind racing as he processes this big ball of information that’s just been thrown at him. he looks a little less shocked, and now he seems to be moving towards acceptance.

“jesus… well, shit,” he mutters under his breath. he runs a hand over his face, thinking. “and, uh… it’s… it’s definitely mine, right? no doubts about that?”

you nod, your fingers still fiddling with the cord as you speak.

“yeah. yeah, it’s yours. i’ve had no one else but you, luigi. and we didn’t exactly consider using any protection during our visit, so…”

he lets out a huff at that, shaking his head. he doesn’t seem mad, just… worried.

“yeah, i suppose we didn’t… damn.” he mutters, running a hand through his hair. “so… what are you gonna do? about the pregnancy, i mean.”

you shrug, chewing on your lip a bit. you’re not completely certain yourself, right now.

“i… i don’t know yet,” you admit. “i mean, it all just happened pretty damn recently, so i haven’t had time to really think about it yet. but… I guess i just wanted to know… what you thought about it. it is your kid too, after all.”

he nods, biting his own lip as his gaze drifts down to the tabletop.

“right… i mean, of course it has something to do with me as well… right, so…” he sighs, and glances back up at you. “are you sure you want to keep the baby, sweetheart? i mean, a baby is a pretty huge deal. it changes a lot of things.”

he pauses before continuing, “listen, it’s a big deal. and it’s gonna affect you way more than it’ll affect me. i mean, i’m the one who was able to just walk away after our little… visit. you’re the one who’s been left with the after-effects. i just… i just don’t want you to feel like you have to keep the kid just because it’s mine. it’s your body at the end of the day, so if you don’t want to carry, then you don’t have to.”

you bite your lip, knowing that that probably the reasonable conclusion to come to. but honestly, you don’t have the first clue what you actually want to do right now. this whole situation has got your head all over the place, and you’re not entirely sure how you feel about it.

“i don’t know, luigi, i…” you pause, taking a deep breath. “i don’t know if i want to keep it or not. i have no idea what i want to do right now. i just… i don’t know.”

luigi watches you, and his expression visibly softens as his shoulders relax a bit. he can tell that you’re overwhelmed, and honestly, he doesn’t entirely blame you for being so.

“hey," he starts, his voice quiet. "it’s alright, sweetheart, it’s alright. you don’t have to decide anything right now, alright? just… just take some time, think it over. no rush.”

he pressed his hand against the glass, as if taking your hand in his and squeezing it reassuringly. if only he would able to do so.

“i just want you to know that… whatever you end up choosing to do, i’m gonna support it. whether you want to keep or not, i’m gonna be there for you. you’re not by yourself in this. i’m not gonna let you deal with this all on your own, you hear me?”

it’s a comforting thought, knowing that luigi is going to support you no matter your decision. you’ve worried that perhaps he’d feel upset that this has happened, or that he’d somehow blame you for this happening. but no, he seems focused on making sure you’re supported through this.

you let out a breath, and nod, managing a weak smile. you press your own hand against the glass, wishing that you could feel his touch on your skin.

he mirrors you with a weak smile of his own. he watches the hand that’s pressed against the glass, as if imagining that he’s holding your own. despite the thick glass and the guards, luigi wishes that he could just take your face in his hands, and press a soft kiss to your forehead.

instead, he just has to settle for watching you.

you feel almost lonely just sitting there. it’s such a simple thing, but seeing luigi sitting on the other side of that thick glass, not even able to hold your hand, it makes your heart ache a little bit.

you’re not usually needy, you don’t usually desperately crave another person’s touch like this, but right now, you wish more than anything that you could just be in luigi’s arms.

he wishes more than anything in the world that he’d be able to just have you in his lap right now, to hold you close and have his arms wrapped securely around you.

he doesn’t even want anything more from you. no, right now his mind isn’t focused on anything sexual. he just wants to comfort you, hold you, and reassure you.

he wants to show you how much he cares about you. he wants to be able to hold you in his lap, and bury his face against your hair while he whispers soothing words into your ear. he wants to be able to run his fingers through your hair, and press kisses to your lips until that worried expression is gone.

right now, he wants to be able to be your comfort, the way that you’ve been his.

unfortunately, the glass that separates you prevents him from doing any of that. but he can’t not do something. no, he can’t just sit by, and simply watch you.

despite not being able to hold you in his lap, he does the next best thing, and starts talking with a soothing voice.

“hey,” he says quietly, his voice low. “it’s okay, sweetheart. everything’s gonna be alright, you hear me?”

his tone is gentle, and soft. the complete opposite to how he sounds when he’s teasing you. no, his teasing voice is cocky and smug.

this voice is just soothing, a quiet whisper that’s designed to comfort you.

“i mean it, alright? you’re not alone in this. i’m not leave just abandon you, or something. if you keep it, i’ll be there. if you don’t, i’ll still be there. i’m gonna be right by your side. you got it?”

he watches you, his eyes flickering over your face as he waits for your reaction to his words. he’s hoping that what he has said will have some sort of soothing effect on you, that at the very least it’ll help a little bit.

“i’m not going anywhere, sweetheart,” he says again, his voice still quiet. “you’re stuck with me. no matter what you choose.”

in spite of the difficult situation, a warm feeling starts to spread inside you. luigi’s soothing words are working — they’re helping to comfort you. the fact that he remains so unwaveringly supportive, and has even promised to be there for you, regardless of what choice you make, has a calming effect on you. not a massive effect, but enough to take some of the stress away.

luigi can tell that it’s working. it’s subtle, but in the slight change of your face, your body language, he can see the effect that his soothing words are having.

he can see that you’re a little bit more relaxed than you were at the beginning of the conversation — and that makes him slightly more relaxed.

“you know,” he starts gently, “you’re surprisingly calm for someone who just told their boyfriend that they’re pregnant.”

he says it jokingly, his tone still just as soft and gentle. however now there’s a slight hint of amusement in his expression. the fact that you’re relatively calm about the whole situation is a bit surprising to him.

the words have an effect though, as you give a small shrug, and let out a soft snort.

“do you want me to start panicking or something?” you ask, one eyebrow raised.

luigi lets out a huff, shaking his head.

“well, no, of course not. it’s just that, well… i mean, not that i think it’s bad, but i expected you to be at least a bit more stressed than you are right now.”

he tilts his head slightly, a hint of curiosity in his expression.

“i don’t know, sweetheart, you’re handling this surprisingly well.”

you shrug again, not really having an answer for that. honestly, you can’t even really explain it yourself.

“i mean, it’s not like panicking is going to help anything,” you say, letting out a soft huff. “and like i said, i’m not exactly sure what i even want to do yet, so why freak out over nothing?”

he stares at you for a moment, a slight smile on his face as he takes in your words. he’s actually a little bit impressed with your calmness right now. despite not having any idea what you actually want to do, you’re not losing your head completely.

there’s a hint of appreciation in his expression.

“you’re amazing, you know that?”

he says it more to himself than to you, shaking his head slightly and running a hand through his hair.

“i mean, seriously, you tell me that you’re pregnant, and what do you do? you stay perfectly calm and level-headed. and, i mean, it’s not like i was expecting you to freak out or anything, but i have a feeling that most women would not be as composed as you are right now.”

you give a small huff at that, a light smile appearing on your face. despite everything, that praise from him makes you feel a bit warm inside.

“i don’t know about ‘amazing’,” you say quietly, fiddling with the phone cord. “more like ‘not completely insane’.”

“hey, it’s amazing to me.”

he leans forward slightly, his expression softening. he watches you fiddle with the cord of the phone, wishing more than anything that he could be there with you right now.

“trust me, sweetheart, right now i think you’re amazing. the way you’re taking all this so calmly? it’s pretty damn impressive, if you ask me.”

you give a small scoff, rolling your eyes a bit, but you can feel a hint of colour rising to your cheeks. despite your best efforts, his compliments get you flustered.

“alright, stop it… you’re gonna make me embarrass myself,” you mutter, shifting a bit in your seat.

that subtle hint of colour in your cheeks isn’t subtle to him. luigi notices it immediately, and a smug grin appears on his face. you always get so adorably flustered when he compliments you.

“oh, is that so?” he murmurs, enjoying the way you’ve shifted awkwardly in your seat. he can see how flustered you’ve become just by a couple of innocent compliments.

seeing you like this, blushing and shy, makes him want to just take your face in his hands and kiss you senseless.

however, of course, that’s not possible at the moment. because there is a thick sheet of glass in the way, and he’s a threat to the public, apparently. it’s frustrating as hell, to be so close to you, and yet still be unable to actually reach you. unable to grab you, hold you, touch you.

instead, he simply lets out a huff, and continues to watch the way you look. he can see how your hands are fiddling with the phone cord, how your cheeks are flushed a little bit. how you’re shifting a bit in your seat, as if uncomfortable by how flustered he’s making you.

“would it be… selfish for me to keep it?” you ask, almost out the blue.

you asked the question to the air, seemingly more to yourself than anything. but luigi responds anyway.

“no. definitely not selfish.”

he shakes his head, his expression firm. he doesn’t want you to have any doubts, not even for a second.

“what makes you think it would be selfish?”

you give a soft exhale. luigi’s reassurance helps, a little bit at least. however, the fact that your mind immediately went from ‘should i keep it?’ to ‘is it selfish to keep it?’ is a worrying sign.

“i mean, what if they never let out you? i’d want to have something of yours, as weird as that sounds.”

you pause, biting your lip.

“but then i’d make you feel obligated to be a dad.”

it takes a moment for the full weight of your words to settle in, and when they do, luigi visibly stiffens in his seat.

that thought hadn’t occurred to him at all. but you’re right, it is definitely something that needs to be taken into consideration.

the possibility of him being released, and getting out, is next to none. and he might never get to be a dad, not properly anyway. It’s a bitter pill to swallow.

but he swallows it nonetheless, his shoulders tensing slightly. he knows that you’re just saying that you want something of his; but the idea that you might keep the baby just for that reason alone hurts.

he can’t give you a proper life. he can’t give you the family that you deserve. he can’t give you or the child that you might possibly have the life that you want. even if he was released someday, he’d be labeled as a threat, and it would always hang over his head.

he swallows again, watching you through the glass. he can see the way your eyes won’t quite meet his, the way that your fingers are still fiddling with the phone cord. You look almost embarrassed, in the way that your cheeks are slightly flushed.

“sweetheart,” he starts quietly, his voice low. “please look at me. can you give me that much, at least?”

you hesitate for a brief second, before meeting his gaze through the glass. it’s surprisingly intimidating, having him looking at you like that. the expression in his eyes is a mixture of softness and firmness — and you’re suddenly reminded just how intense his gaze can be, when it’s focused on you.

although it isn’t at all intentional, there’s a hint of authority in it. a reminder of the fact that he is dominant; and right now, he wants to talk with you, and he’s not about to let you shy away from him.

you feel your face getting a little bit hotter when you finally return his gaze, and you can feel your heart rate picking up just a little bit. there’s something about the way that luigi is looking at you that’s almost a little bit intimidating.

the softness in his gaze, paired with the firmness. the slight command to it, as if telling you to look at him. it makes you feel almost a little bit flustered, a shiver running down your spine.

for some reason, you feel like he’s dominating you right now, even from behind the glass.

“don’t keep it just for that reason.”

he practically demands it. he can see that you’re getting flustered just by him looking at you like this, but he doesn’t care.

the thought of you having the baby for that reason alone makes his heart hurt. it’s a reminder that there’s a very decent possibility that he’ll never get to be an actual father. he’ll never get to hold his child in his arms, take his child to school, watch as they grow and go through life.

it sucks. knowing that if you keep the baby, you’ll probably be a single mother.

luigi knows that he’ll never get to see his child. he can barely even see you — and chances are high that any visits you’d make to him while you’re pregnant would stop as soon as the baby is born.

he won’t ever get to see them growing up, get to watch their milestones — their first steps, their first words, their first day of school. he won’t be there for any of it.

“please.”

he repeats himself, the firmness in his gaze hardening just a little. he needs you to understand.

“don’t keep it just for that reason, okay?”

the thought has lodged itself in his mind now, and there’s almost a pleading tone in his voice. he’s practically begging you not to make your decision just to have something of his.

to have something of his. he knows that you didn’t mean it badly, that the intention behind the words wasn’t negative. but the words still hurt.

like a knife, going straight into his heart. the thought that you might keep the baby just to have part of him — not because you want to have a baby, that you want to be a mother.

the fact that you’re willing to make that sacrifice for him, makes him feel both touched and sick at the same time.

he hates it. he hates that the thought even crossed your mind. that you would possibly keep it just to have a part of him.

it’s touching that you care enough that you would do that, but it’s also not the reason why a child should be born. if you were to keep it, he wants it to be for the same reason anyone else has children.

because you want to be a mother. not because you feel like you need to for him.

he takes a breath, his hands clenching his thighs slightly under the table. the thought that keeps spinning and spinning around his head is that he won’t be able to be there.

he won’t be able to hold your hand while you give birth. he won’t be able to be there for any check-ups. he won’t be able to see you with a baby bump, your body changing to accommodate the child growing inside you.

he won’t get to hold you when the pregnancy gets uncomfortable, won’t be there to rub your swollen feet. he won’t get to feel the baby kicking in your belly and the joy of that first movement.

he won’t get to be there for any of it. no doctor’s appointments, no late nights, no first words, no first steps.

he hates it. he hates it so much.

he won’t get to experience any of the good aspects of parenthood. he won’t get to hold you when you’re stressed, won’t get to rub your back when you feel sick. he won’t get to take care of you during your pregnancy, comfort you when you’re in pain.

his arms won’t be the ones that you curl against when you’re feeling exhausted, when the pregnancy becomes exhausting.

he won’t get to walk with you through the store, picking out cute little clothes or toys for the baby. he won’t be the one to buy the first cute little onesie, the one to assemble the cot, or the changing table. he won’t be able to help you buy all the necessary baby supplies, won’t be there to shop for a stroller or a baby carrier.

he won’t pick out your hospital bag and fill it with all the necessary items when the time comes close. he won’t get to hold your hand as the labour pains start to hit, won’t get to comfort you when the pain gets too intense.

he won’t get to watch you as you bring a tiny, screaming, beautiful little human being into the world.

if you choose to keep it — and he hopes that you’ll make that decision because you want to, not because it would give you a tiny piece of him — he won’t be the one to cut the cord.

he won’t be the first one to hold the baby after the nurses weigh it and clean it up. he won’t even be allowed near the baby, because he’s a prisoner.

it’s the worst of both worlds. being a father and not being able to be a father at the same time. being a parent, but with none of the joy. none of the happy moments, none of the milestones. he’d be a father on paper only, but in reality it would all mean nothing.

no memories, no moments, no happiness. just emptiness on his side, and the exhaustion and stress on yours.

the worst part of it all is that he can’t even be mad. if you say yes, if you choose to keep it, how the hell would he be able to be mad at that? how could he be angry at you when you’re willing to give up so much just to have a part of him?

his mind keeps going back to the first thing you said, when the conversation started.

“would it be… selfish for me to keep it?”

and he’d been willing to say yes, because it was what you wanted. because this was about you, not him.

if you want to keep it, he isn’t going to stop you. but please, please, please don’t keep it just to have a part of him.

he can’t handle that. he won’t handle that.

as he watches you through the glass, his expression is carefully stoic and neutral. he’s trying to stay controlled, trying not to let the emotions show through on his face. he’s trying to keep his tone steady as he speaks.

“please, sweetheart,” he starts again, his tone a little bit more quiet. “please, don’t use that as an excuse to keep it. don’t make your choice based on that thought.”

he holds your gaze intently, silently begging you to understand.

it’s obvious that you’re struggling to stay emotionally composed, and it’s hard for him to watch. the way that your fingers are fiddling with the phone cord, the way that you’re shifting awkwardly in your seat. it’s all evidence that you’re having a hard time handling this.

he’d give anything to be able to hold you, comfort you. but the damn glass is in the way.

he wonders, idly, if you’ve been holding it together just fine in the past few days. If you’ve been strong and brave, putting on a facade of composure.

or if, when you were alone. when there was nobody around. when you were behind an closed door.

if you’ve collapsed to the floor. if you’ve cried into your hands, let out all the stress and confusion and anxiety.

he wonders if you’ve slept at all, at night. if you’ve been lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, overthinking every possible scenario until you’re exhausted. if you’ve tossed and turned, unable to turn your brain off.

wondering. questioning. overthinking. freaking out and stressing and worrying.

he wonders if you’ve even been eating properly. if you’re taking proper care of yourself.

he wonders how much the whole thing has been stressing you out, if the uncertainty is taking a toll on your mental health.

the look in your eyes now tells him that you’ve definitely been holding it together. but he doubts it’s been easy.

he knows that you’ve been going back and forth with your thoughts, second guessing yourself constantly. overthinking everything, every possible scenario. trying to figure stuff out, trying to process everything.

it’s clear to him just how much of toll this is taking on you, even if you’ve been struggling to keep it under control so far. even if you’ve been putting on a strong and mature front in front of him.

he can see the stress in your eyes now, just how much the whole situation is messing with your head.

the way that you’re sitting now. the phone cord in between your fingers, fidgeting nervously with it. the way that you’re shifting your weight from side to side, your feet tapping anxiously against the floor. the subtle nervous expression on your face, how your cheeks are flushed a little bit. your slightly heavier breathing.

it’s all proof that you’re struggling to keep it together. struggling to keep yourself composed.

he feels a wave of helplessness rush over him, as he’s forced to sit there, separated by the glass from you. he wants to comfort you so desperately. hold you in his arms, rub your back, kiss your forehead.

but he can’t. he can only sit there, watching, as you struggle to keep your composure.

are we keeping it or what? 👀

— TAG LIST —

@ga33y3 @icedchailattebabyy @betty-boop-lips-05 @harrysbestiee @badaspice @tsukishimawhore

[rocknrollsalad]

rating: gen cw: Steve Harrington has bad parents, holiday celebrations, period typical homophobia, show typical trauma tags: it's the 90s y'all, older steddie, established steddie, stancy is mentioned, reclaiming holidays word count: 728

-

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt "stocking" and the @steddiemas prompt "surprise"

Christmas had never been Steve’s favorite holiday. He was more of a Thanksgiving guy. A big meal, friends and family, and a little bit of football? It was exactly how Steve would describe the perfect day.

Not to mention Thanksgiving was more relaxed than Christmas. There was a certain pressure around Christmas time that Steve swears he’d call one of his earliest memories. Life had moved on a long, long way from trying to eat the lights on the tree but the pressure to be well-behaved and happy was the same.

However, finding his own little community did help some. Not that any of them were any more Christmas people than Steve. Chrissy was the closest, she liked to entertain so any excuse. Nancy and Jonathan had a kid now so they had to celebrate but other than that, they were all fine to let the day come and go. It was an obligation best spent with friends who were suffering the same way.

This year was a little different. For the first time in Steve’s life, he had his own place to celebrate. Not an apartment he and Eddie shared with Robin and Chrissy, not his family home that he was allowed to stay in, this was his. And Eddie’s. Mostly his though.

A modest little home just outside suburbia with a lawn and a two-car garage, Steve loved the place. He’d spent the last nine months fixing all the things that needed repaired and updated which only made him love it more. This was where he was going to spend the rest of his life.

It was that ownership, that security of something for forever, that had him buying a Christmas tree a little early this year. Not out of obligation but because there was a perfect spot in the living room for it. Right in front of the window yet not in the way. It wouldn't take up the only communal space and no one would tell him how to decorate it, so why not?

They gave it a few simple decorations and a new string of lights, Steve wasn’t going crazy here. He still didn’t care about Christmas, but this symbolized so much more. Something that became more and more obvious with each new bit of seasonal decor that found it's way up. What really cinched it was the stockings, though. Something about really said "Christmas" to Steve.

One for him and one for Eddie. Their stockings hung in their home as they would be for the rest of their lives. It probably shouldn’t have made Steve as emotional as it did. He couldn’t stop looking at them. All that they’d fought to be alive, everything they went through, made this feel like a luxury. One Steve couldn’t believe he’d earned.

But he had. There were scars, nightmares, and weekly trips to the therapist to prove it. Whether he’d ever feel like they were safe or that he could fully let his guard down, time would still tell, but Steve was starting to feel worthy of more than just existing.

And there was one more thing this picture-perfect life needed.

It wasn’t exactly possible but times had changed enough that Steve and Eddie could live together and even if it raised a few eyebrows, people kept quiet. It wasn’t enough but it was something. Still, Steve knew. He knew there wasn’t anyone else on this planet for him and the only reason he wasn’t married to Eddie was because it wasn’t legal.

So with a bit of scrambling and all the romantic creativity in his body, Steve bought a ring and wrote a little speech. He sat on both for almost a week without saying anything so that he could pull off the surprise a moment like this was worth.

When Christmas morning rolled around, Steve’s stocking was overflowing with trinkets, candies, and other little goodies but Eddie’s sat looking practically empty. Steve rooted around through his and tried to not watch a very disappointed man dig down to the toe of his monogrammed stocking, chasing the only thing in it.

By the time he’d succeeded, Steve had ditched his candy and was waiting on one knee. This was the last thing he needed to make this the life he’d always dreamt of and maybe the first step in making Christmas something truly magical.

[peaches2217]

So, uh… tonight was cathartic as hell. Remember how I was raised in a church that became a cult and how it’s left me with thirteen metric tons of religious trauma, which I’ve only recently been able to start working through?

Tonight, I did something I’ve wanted to do for a very long time: I went back one last time to say goodbye.

We had a Blue Christmas service this evening at my church. I planned to attend just because it seemed like it would be peaceful, but it ended up opening my eyes to a loooooot of pain and grief I’m still holding onto. Today was the church I was raised in’s annual candlelight communion service in honor of Christmas. My whole family was there, except for me. I invited them to the Blue Christmas service and our own candlelight communion this coming Tuesday, and they rejected the offers, just as they’ve rejected every other invitation I’ve extended to them. My dad always said he wanted nothing more than for me to seek God with my whole heart, and now I’m finally in a place where I feel safe enough that I can… and it’s driven a wedge between us, because he’s convinced God could never reveal Himself to me so long as I’m openly and unrepentantly trans. This isn’t the first Christmas I haven’t gone to church with him, but it’s the first Christmas I’ve spent in church alone, and I didn’t realize until tonight how heavy my heart is as a result.

I ended up planting myself at the alter and just praying for a good twenty minutes after the service proper ended. There wasn’t any divine revelation, I just gave up all my fears and concerns and sorrows. About halfway through I felt a hand on my shoulder, and it stayed there until I finally got back up. It was one of my pastors, and he prayed with me until I was done; he offered me a hug and told me quietly that “God delights in you,” and that, no matter what I face, I won’t have to face it alone; God is always with me, and he and his wife (who’s the head pastor) will always welcome me. Talk about not even knowing what you needed to hear until you hear it. I was choking up. 😆

I sat outside and watched the stars for a bit because I just… didn’t wanna go home. I never do when I’m at church. I felt like there was more that needed to be done or experienced. Ultimately I decided to drive around for a little bit and just let my thoughts run wild. And as luck would have it, the path I chose took me past the church I was raised in… which was completely abandoned. They usually have evening service, but since it’s the last Sunday before Christmas, no service tonight.

I’m not really sure what compelled me to pull in, much less to get out of my car. But I did, and then my feet just started moving, and once I started, I didn’t wanna stop.

I visited as many places as I could without access to the inside of the church and just remembered. “This is the door that led to my dad’s Divorce Care class. I’d always poke my head in on Wednesday nights to see if I could nab some candy from the crystal bowl.” “This is where the swing set used to be. I’d play sick so I could swing instead of having to sit through sermons. Lots of lectures happened here.” “This is the AC unit I hid behind one of the last times I attended a service here. I hid here and cried and prayed someone would find me there and assure me I wasn’t as alone as I felt. No one did.”

Once I finished circling the outside of the church, I stood on the bridge overlooking the fish pond in front for a bit, because that was one of my favorite places to linger growing up. The rocks, the planks, everything was exactly how I remembered them. Then I waved at the nearest security camera, hopped back in my car, and pulled away. It seems kinda silly recounting it now, but I thanked the church and said “goodbye” out loud, then I was off down the road and I didn’t look back.

I don’t know if this will actually be helpful in the long run or if it truly gave me lasting closure. But for tonight, there’s peace. I’ve said my goodbyes on my own terms, and now I’m moving ahead, and for tonight at least, that’s enough.

(I also got this cool picture of one of the crosses on the side of the church. A cult it may be, but it’s a well-decorated cult. 😂)

[dasketcherz]

Further deep dive into Hugo's feelings towards this new lifestyle he chose to adapt to:

Hugo using his newfound influence and societal importance to help his home kingdom is something that’s so crucial and a massive big fucking deal to him and his character

Like, the way Donella instilled her "moral code" if you will unto him and how she kept putting the notion of "stay useful if you want to keep a roof above your head" mentality to keep him in line is really so saddening—Like its stemming from a place of care to an extent from Donnie but boy did it do more harm on this man's self-worth than good

I can only imagine how much constantly hearing the words "dont disappoint me" is so nerve-wrecking and anxiety inducing for Hugo growing up...how mentally taxing thats caused him </3

And Hugo developing to care for others because of his time with team radical was sweet and all but I doubt that feeling of needing to be useful didn't just go away just because he has secured stability now.

Like I can just imagine he decides to redirect all that unto trying to make progress as much as he can for the people because he thinks "I didnt earn this position, not really. So the least I could do is try to actively serve, because if I dont—then I didnt deserve the position in power that I currently gained" (aka the same criticism he's always had towards elitists that do little to nothing with their power in status) the feeling of being undeserving didnt go away either so he's trying to act on it every day

like if you think bout it, in his pov, this counters all his internal conflicting issues in his opinion:

"I didnt deserve this position" = I'll work my ass off so I could feel like I earned it

"I have to be useful" = I will invent things that benefits others, that could improve lives

"I'm now part of the class that I despised growing up" = but I'm not gonna neglect the less fortunate like a lot of them did, I cant. I wont.

And i just wanna give this man a hug because he is trying his best, he's really really trying </3

You guys ever think about how Hugo must feel about living in Corona?

How he left Ingvarr with no "actually good reason" - there are no wars, no constant meteor showers. He didn't NEED to leave, and yet he did.

He left, while others growing up like him suffer there every day. It's not his fault really, and yet he still sort of feels sorry for them. They're just like him, the only difference is they simply didn't get as lucky. They didn't get taken in by a politically influential person. They didn't get adopted into a rich kingdom of the sun.

He doesn't know what his home is. Ingvarr never gave him happiness, but he should still be proud to have born there, no? It's not like Ingvarr is the worst place on earth. At first, living was hard but he got by, and then got taken in by Donella. He lived decently. And yet he still left.

I think Hugo sometimes lays awake in bed feeling like the worst for leading a happy life.

Listened to some Carson Coma and had some thoughts. I think these (translated) lines fit Hugo especially:

"From the poster, a stock photo's smiling back at you.

Here, not even babies smile for free.

And even if you do have money it doesn't matter anyways,

even with money you manage to be poor here.

Rotting people inside those small shops,

And you suddenly feel it in your gut,

That it's not your fault, not your fault, not your fault, not your fault...

(...)

I know it's an asshole move, since you took me in,

I'm crawling right out of the window you left open

For me, to get some fresh air at night,

This room is too narrow, staying here is suffocating me.

Even though I really, really really love you,

I look for you in other countries.

If I actually did have two lives, one of them would be only about you..."

[cloveroctobers]

so yeah — 7. Roman Reigns [Winter Prompts]

A/N: uh oh, I’m dabbling a little more for this man! Also happy holidays to you all because I honestly doubt I’ll have anything else out before whichever holiday you celebrate. Hope you enjoy this piece and that it brings you comfort and feels? 🤪🤍

PROMPTS ARE FROM HERE & I’m using: SITUATIONS — My flight was cancelled and I went home to find my ex cheating on me, so now I'm at this pub.

WARNINGS: Language, break ups, reference to the netflix film, “Malcolm & Marie,” choosing to deal with your emotions at a later time, & strangers to friends trope?

⁺̇◍̇̇̇⁺̇̇̇⊛̇̇̇̇⁺̇̇̇◍̇̇̇⁺̇ ⁺̇◍̇̇̇⁺̇̇̇⊛̇̇̇̇⁺̇̇̇◍̇̇̇⁺̇ ⁺̇◍̇̇̇⁺̇̇̇⊛̇̇̇̇⁺̇̇̇◍̇̇̇⁺̇ ⁺̇◍̇̇̇⁺̇̇̇⊛̇̇̇̇⁺̇̇̇◍̇̇̇⁺̇ ⁺̇◍̇̇̇⁺̇̇̇⊛̇̇̇̇⁺̇̇̇◍̇̇̇⁺̇ ⁺̇◍̇̇̇⁺̇̇̇⊛̇̇̇̇⁺̇̇̇◍̇̇̇⁺̇ ⁺̇◍̇̇̇

“Just say the word sis and I’ll slash all three of his tires, kick out the window shield, and leave multiple bad reviews of him as a screenwriter,” your best friend repeats over the phone while you use your elbow to push the swivel doors.

Rolling your bag into the lobby you close your eyes and let out a deep breath, “As much as I appreciate you always sitting on go, Malcolm isn’t worth it and I honestly don’t feel like riding around much more tonight, especially to bail you out.”

“Alright girl…I just wish you wouldn’t be alone on Christmas because of his dumbass.”

Flights were cancelled, “until further notice,” and you accepted that defeat more than anything.

“I won’t be.” You answer as you spy security keeping watch of the entrance to the casino.

The Medallion, the joint hotel and casino was a random spot you decided to stop at after that treacherous revelation you received. You had your own home in Miami, whereas your boyfriend of three years, screenwriter and producer Malcolm Elliot—who had his own home back in LA—thought the greatest gift to give you three days before Christmas, was to have his ex-girlfriend up in your house and bed.

The pulsing anger that dripped from the center of your forehead down to your entire being was tough to vocally describe. You were more angry than hurt because why would he play in your face like that? Putting in all this time just for him to decide to go back to the one relationship that was full of disagreements and doubts, just based off what he told you that is. Ultimately you learned that Malcolm Elliot was not the man or enough for you.

And that’s on Toni Braxton!

Closing your eyes, you took another moment to collect yourself before stepping forward, heels clacking against the polished floor, and bag rolling beside you. The process getting into the casino was easy, it was going on 3am so you understood the slow pace and lack of others as you made your way through the vibrant lights and empty seats.

“What can I get you?”

Snapping out of your daze, you turn your head to the left, response getting caught in your throat for a second as you got a good look of the handsome man behind the bar. He was dressed in a pinstriped tux with a whole tie (that didn’t match) and his dark shiny hair neatly brushed back.

There’s amusement in his eyes as he pushes off the counter, tucking the rag he was just wiping the bar with down below, “Or do you need a few more minutes alone burning a hole into my shelf?”

You scoff, resting your cheek into your balled up knuckles, “Is it that obvious I’m pissed off?”

He shrugs, “It’s not that hard for me to tell…interacting with people and analyzing them is part of the job.”

“Is that so…Mr…?”

He smiles at you and it almost makes your breathing hitch as he takes his time walking over to hold his hand out, “Just call me Joe.”

“Okay, just joe. I’m really a martini kinda girl so whatever you have left that won’t make me pick a fight with one of your machines would be nice.” You place your hand in his, which is actually warm and soft against yours as he gives your hand a firm squeeze.

Joe dips his head as he moves to get to work, “You got it.”

The phone that’s face down on the counter is buzzing madly that the side eye you’re giving it, makes Joe peek at your expression from over his shoulder. “I’m guessing who ever is on the other line, fucked up big time? I also get the impression you hardly ignore a phone call on purpose…depending on who the person is.”

Snatching the phone up, you roll your eyes as you quickly go to shut it off and toss it into the tote bag that seated right on top of your hard suitcase. “you’ve got that right, Joseph! A no good sorry excuse for a man is who’s on the other line. How do you cheat on someone a few days before Christmas? And not just with anyone, a ex who’s also an addict that you put on blast in one of your films?”

The pulsating ache was starting to hit harder now that you had to massage it some. Rolling your shoulders a bit, you sat up straight, trying to get rid of some of the tension. Joe sends a pretty martini your way, which you latch onto.

“I guarantee he’s not as great as he thinks he is…especially if he thinks it’s okay to be disrespectful by cheating and on someone like you.”

“You don’t know me, Joe.”

“Yet…but if you stay here until sunrise, I’m sure you’ll confirm my assumptions for me.”

Waggling your finger, you say with slits in your eyes after tossing back the drink, “I know you’re not trying to get me to partake in getting under to get over, are you Joseph? If so I might just have to turn into a Karen and request to speak to the manager.”

“You’re looking at both the manager and owner.” He states with ease.

“Oop, okay big boss!” You laugh while snapping your fingers, “Just shut me on up.”

“Nah, of course not. We’re just getting started.” The intensity in his eyes is enough to make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, so you just simply roll your eyes, a smile playing on the corner of your lips.

Joe flicks his eyes from your lips back to your eyes, “See…that’s all I want to see tonight. A beautiful smile on an even more stunning woman.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr. Good lookin’ business man.” You cross a leg over the other, “I’ll take another, please.”

Joe nods as he holds up some fingers, “Your limit will be three, so two more.”

You huff, “I didn’t come here to be bossed around but…it’s fine. I’ve got shrooms in my bag.”

The man frowns, “And you were getting on a flight with those?”

“Of course not!” You shake your head, “I only have enough to make me enjoy the flight.”

Joe wasn’t sure how accurate that was since most people needed someone they trusted to keep them grounded but all he responds with is, “…You are something else.”

“It’s Christmas!” You argue.

The man mutters, “Sounds like an excuse to me.”

“I can be your sugar plum fairy on the dance floor.” You suddenly say, “So you can feel the spirit.”

“…if slow dancing is truly what you want, I’m happy to oblige.” Joe shrugs before continuing on, “You don’t need liquid courage or shrooms to have a good time with me though.”

“You talk a good game…you do this with all your pretty customers?” You stare at him from underneath your eyelashes.

“Nah…I’m actually rarely down here at this hour but there’s a reason I’m here for the dusk shift.” He hands you another and leans over to whisper, “Must have been for me to meet something good.”

“There you go with your assumptions.” You sigh bringing the rim of the cocktail to your lips, “Alright, just call me Joe. Why are you lonesome during the holidays? There’s no chance there’s not someone at home waiting for you?”

He grins at you, lightly caressing at his facial hair, “Are you fishing?”

“Not at all. It’s too cold.” You easily respond, making Joe blink at you, while you hold his stare before slipping him a wink, “C’mon, I’ll give you a synopsis of my shit? I was supposed to be on a flight to visit my family for the holidays, flight got cancelled, went back to my home, just to find my shitty boyfriend who’s in the film industry, entertaining his ex girlfriend, Marie. Sounds like a cheesy sitcom doesn’t it? Malcolm and Marie! Yet I’m the one looking stupid! Those bitches.”

You finish the rest of the drink and slam it back on the counter.

“You’re not stupid.” Joe debates, “No one expects to be cheated on. You just expect someone to love you in return and there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s his lost, remember that.”

“Aren’t you sweet but I’m starting to realize maybe I wasn’t in love with him,” you rest your elbows on the counter with a deep sigh before wiggling one finger at him, “But we’re doing no deflecting this morning! We’re basically friends at this point, blabbering at almost four in the morning.”

Joe shrugs with his bottom lip pushed out, “If you say so.”

“Heart to heart now and then we dance our sorrows away?”

Joe fires back with a frown, “Who says I’m sad?”

“You’re here at your place of business all by yourself during the holidays.” You state, “While you should be at home, tucked in bed with a loved one.”

Joe exhaled through his nose, “I got hit with an ultimatum to get married by a certain time and I don’t do well with others planning out shit for me. So…she left, decided to get in a relationship with someone we went to college with, and took the damn dog too.”

“Booo! Not the dog! And here I thought you were going to say she got struck by a car and left for dead or something.” You ramble.

Joe furrowed his brows, “Things don’t always have to be tragic.”

“I hear it builds character.”

Joe felt his eye twitch, “You want me to be the villain?”

“Something tells me you’ve already been through that,” you tilt your head to the side staring at the mysterious man who only gave some details here and there as this part of the world sleeps, “But I think I like talking to this guy instead.”

Joe hums, getting lost in thought but chose not stay much on that. You take this time to look around the empty casino before spinning back around to meet the stranger’s eyes, “Let’s make each other’s wishes come true?”

“Meaning?”

“We dance until sunrise.”

Joe grumbled as he glanced up at the ceiling, “You and this dancing.”

“Don’t tell me you have two left feet?”

“What?” Joe scowls, “I can do a little something.”

“Meet me on the dance floor then.”

Joe asserts, “It’s a casino not the club.”

“Aw, those are probably just closing now.” You’re pouting and it’s honestly the cutest thing the man has ever seen.

“Good, you don’t need to be in there.” Joe states as if it’s a fact, but he can only imagine how you’re in the club and that’s most likely a hand full.

You’re confused, “Where do I need to be?”

“Wherever you want to be.”

“You were supposed to sing Donell jones in that moment and you flopped.”

“…You always this much of a yapper in the mornings?” Joe crossed his arms.

“I maybe a morning person—or night owl? That going to be a problem for you bestie?”

Joe winced, “As long as you stop calling me bestie.”

“Only special people gain that title so you should be honored.” You hop off the stool, stumbling a little bit but catch yourself on the counter as you pick up on a sigh from the man behind you, “All part of my performance, Joseph. Tens across the boards! Now get over here.”

“You’re kinda bossy to someone who can escort you out.”

Spinning with your hair flicking behind you, it’s your turn to turn up the heat, “You’d miss me if you did.”

Joe pretends to think about it, humming but eventually makes his way over to you. You take your time taking in his appearance up close, “Did you ever play football?”

“Yeah…a little.”

“I know a baller when I see one.” You snap your fingers again, “Okay…so tell me…favorite Christmas song of all time?”

“Here’s a secret…” He’s leaning towards you again, “I hate Christmas.”

Gasping you latch onto your fur covered chest and almost choke on your saliva, making the man reach out towards you but you fan him away as you wheeze, “…What’re you some sort of krampus?”

He scrunches up his lips, “Do I look like some sort of half goat, half demon to you?”

“Ask me once the shrooms kick in.” You sass as you walk by him, making Joe pinch the space in between his brows.

When did you even?

“I’m going to assume that it’s because the ex broke up with you on Christmas?” You announce over your shoulder.

Joe slowly follows behind you, hands clasped behind his back as you walk through the aisles of slot machines looking for the perfect spot, “No. She actually did that around my birthday.”

“…I can fight her if you want?”

A rumble of laughter builds in his chest, “Appreciate that but everything isn’t so one sided.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

You left space open for the man to elaborate but he doesn’t so you sigh holding out your hands, “Hand in mine, babe. Looks like I’m not going to be the nutcracker tonight—you’re the nut by the way—so hold on to me and all your troubles will be miles away.”

He stares at your hand before cautiously taking yours in his, carefully he places his hand on your waist that buried beneath the warmth of the coat you have on as he predicts, “Have yourself a merry little Christmas?”

“You got it.” You sniff as you step closer and get a whiff of how good Joe smells: warm, woody, and slightly floral yet sweet, “That one makes me cry every time.”

“Hey now,” Joe moves to snake his arm around your waist as if to steady you if your knees so happened to get weak again, “There’s no need for that when you’ve got an Angel right in front of you.”

You snort out some laughter going to rest your head on Joe’s chest, which catches him off guard but he keeps on swaying.

“…You still believe in Christmas after what that Malcolm asshole did?”

You find comfort in Joe’s chest while keeping the tune of your favorite song in your head, “‘Course. Christmas is about a lot of things but just because someone did me wrong doesn’t mean all the love that I still have should go to waste, ya know? So shut up and feel my love, stranger turned bestie.”

It’s joe turns to roll his eyes but he takes in your words. You’re the woman that walked into his place of business, freshly cheated on, and ready to shoot laser eyes into the bottles that sat on the shelf, yet as time went on with a little liquor on your side and “magic,” Joe felt like just maybe your presence alone was supposed to be here.

To remind him that the holidays didn’t have to be so dreadful like they’ve been the past few years.

Slow dancing together with no one in the room was so intimate, so personal, and it wasn’t something Joe would be open to. There’s plenty of others who may or may not have been under the influence who have tried but he always had his business face on walking through. He’s been closed off for a while now and here he was with you, someone that he didn’t know who’s just been thrown for a loop, who just wanted to have a kind moment that didn’t feel so shitty.

Joe started to feel like he should be glad that he could provide that for you, without truly knowing you.

Maybe he did.

When the alarm goes off, signaling that it was time for him to shut down the casino, it brings you two out of your own little world. He’s clearing his throat, watching as you slowly lift your head from his chest. He wants to caress your face but feels like that might be too much, so he just gives your hand that he’s still holding onto, a gentle squeeze before stepping back to close out.

You’re back on the stool, room slightly spinning in various colors as you smile with your chin tucked on your fingers.

“Ive got to count the cash in the back but you’re welcome to stay here if you want…as long as you don’t fall asleep on me.” Joe’s got the register drawer in his hands as he glances at you.

You’re swaying but respond, “I’m far from tired…I actually want ramen.”

He laughs, “fortunately for you, I know a guy. If you want to stick around? We can head out to the lounge to enjoy it together?”

“I’d like that, Joseph.”

It’s a breath taking smile he sends your way before leaving you to enjoy your trip briefly. You’re not sure how long he’s gone until his hand touches the back of your bare neck that your Bob doesn’t fully cover. Together you take your things, walking towards the lobby as Joe locks up the casino doors before turning back to you. He leads the way to the lounge thats tucked to the right of the casino by the shut down escalators, leaving you again but not without telling his security, Heyman, to watch over you, while he went to retrieve the ramen you mentioned.

Once he returns, he doesn’t hesitate sitting beside you. He has all various types of the dish that has you smiling even harder now.

“Forgot to ask which you prefer so I figured why not get all from my guy? He’s the best of the best.” Joe shrugs, followed by a sheepish smile at the spread on the table.

Picking up a container, you sit back on the couch, ready to dig in. “Looks like we made it.”

“Huh?” Joe questions after picking a container himself, slightly glancing at you as he sits back against the couch as well.

You softly smile as you lift your chin in the direction you were staring out at, “To sunrise.”

“Oh, yeah. Looks like we did.” Joe replies, staring out at the glow of sun that’s ready to beam out from the dark navy skies.

Before you sip at the broth you say, “I’m going to rest my head on your shoulder now.”

“Go ahead, make yourself comfortable.”

You already did and this man didn’t even recognize the love he gives.

In due time, maybe you’d tell him.

Yeah, that sounds like a plan.

◍̇̇̇⁺̇̇̇⊛̇̇̇̇⁺̇̇̇◍̇̇̇⁺̇ ⁺̇◍̇̇̇⁺̇̇̇⊛̇̇̇̇⁺̇̇̇◍̇̇̇⁺̇ ⁺̇◍̇̇̇⁺̇̇̇⊛̇̇̇̇⁺̇̇̇◍̇̇̇⁺̇ ⁺̇◍̇̇̇⁺̇̇̇⊛̇̇̇̇⁺̇̇̇◍̇̇̇⁺̇ ⁺̇◍̇̇̇⁺̇̇̇⊛̇̇̇̇⁺̇̇̇◍̇̇̇⁺̇ ⁺̇◍̇̇̇⁺̇̇̇⊛̇̇̇̇⁺̇̇̇◍̇̇̇⁺̇ ⁺̇◍̇̇̇

Continue with my winter anthology prompts here.

[idontplaytrack]

Regina x Reader fic. I don’t have an exact request but something angsty with comfort at the end please!

✧ How Do I Say Goodbye

Regina George x fem! reader

Warnings: mentions to the death of a family pet, coarse language, crying, coarse language

Reader’s dealing with the loss of her childhood furry friend, Regina finds out and makes her feel better.

“Are you coming in today, babe?” Regina asked, phone held between her ear and her shoulder as she shut her locker door.

“No, sorry.”

“That’s okay, do you need anything?”

“No, no. I’m alright, Regina. Just need a day off.” You cleared your throat, silently hoping that she doesn’t ask more questions.

“Okay.” She agreed, though she sounded slightly unconvinced, “I’ll bring you your homework if there’s any, but text me if you want anything, yeah?”

“Okay, Regina.” You muttered, “Thanks.”

There was a pause.

“See you later, G.” You spoke up first to fill the tense moment.

“See you after class, baby.”

After Regina hung up, you put your phone away and went back to sleep. You already had something to eat for breakfast and didn’t feel like doing anything since you were still tired from your lack of sleep the day before. You were home alone, too— your Mom and Dad were at work. So it wasn’t like you had anyone else to talk to. Your friends were all at school now, so was your girlfriend. So, sleep was your best option to pass time.

Unfortunately, your sleep was pretty restless. Around noon, you were so annoyed by your inability to fall asleep that you got out of bed and made your way down to the kitchen where you chugged an ice cold glass of water. After that, you made your way to the garage and ran on the treadmill. It wasn’t until you heard the doorbell ringing that you stopped running. Out of curiosity, you walked back inside the house to answer the door. Of course, out of habit, you looked through the peephole. But whoever it was, was likely long gone. You opened the door and obviously saw no one, and nothing at first. But, you then spotted fast food takeout bags on the table next to the door for packages and food delivery. You certainly did not order this one but there was a note taped onto the bag.

“Enjoy your lunch. ♥ Regina.”

Bringing the bags inside, you set them down on the kitchen island before you went upstairs to grab your phone so that you could send Regina a thank-you text. Once that was done, your hunger kicked in and you decided to eat even though you wanted to shower first since you were all sweaty from the run. But it’s been a few hours since the morning, after all so you decided to just leave the shower for later.

You were sad, so you did your best to do whatever made yourself feel better. You knew that not going to school for the day was the right choice because you definitely wouldn’t have been able to focus at all. Yesterday, you had to say goodbye to your childhood best friend, a beagle that’s been in your life for as long as you could remember. So that wound was still fresh. He’s been with you through pretty much every single milestone in your life. It was a long time coming, but, damn it hurt extra bad because he watched you grow up and you watched him grow old.

After lunch, you cleared the table and curled up on the couch to watch your comfort movie. Halfway through, Regina sends you a voice memo to ask how you were doing. You gave her a bland, but truthful text back. She must be on her own lunch break now given the time of day. Then, your phone was long forgotten once again and your focus returned to the movie. Unexpectedly, you dozed off. You dozed off so you wouldn’t cry. When you woke up, you saw someone in the living room and you nearly screamed.

“Regina. It’s you.” You squinted.

“Of course it’s me, silly.” She bites back a laugh that turns into a smirk, “Nice nap?”

You shook your head and looked at her. She immediately got it and just sat down next to you, wrapping her arms around you securely.

“It’s gonna be okay.” She said softly.

“I know.” Your voice shook, “It’s just hard right now.”

“I got you something.” She stroked your hair, pressing a kiss to your head, “Well, some things.” You spotted the plastic bag on the coffee table, then you nodded, letting her reach forward to grab the bag.

“A few snacks and sweets. And this stuffed dog. I know, it’s not the same. It’s not a replacement, but I hope it can be your buddy while you get back up on your feet.”

“How’d you know?” You muttered, holding the stuffed beagle she bought you and looking at it.

“Your Mom texted me earlier, she’s worried about you.” You said nothing and only snuggled closer, now hugging that little toy she got you close.

“What were you watching?”

Your brows furrowed together trying to recall what you were watching before you fell asleep. “Toy Story 2, I think.”

“That’s a good one. We’re not watching the fourth one, though.”

You managed a chuckle, “I know. I don’t claim part four either.” Her arms around you tighten, “You wanna watch the third one?”

“Not really.” You told her, “You?”

“You pick, babe. I don’t really know what to watch either.”

You pondered for a moment, “Modern Family?”

“Good choice.” She agreed, handing you the remote, “Want some Oreos?”

“Yeah.” You nodded tearfully. She tilted your chin so you were looking at her, “You’ll be okay. I promise. I know it doesn’t seem like it right now, but with time…just know you’ve got it. Okay? He’s lived a long and very happy life with you as his best friend. He knows you love him, and you know he loves you too. It’s just time for that good boy to rest now.”

“Thanks, G.” You let out an unsteady breath, nodding your head in determination, “That’s really sweet, thank you.” She pecks you gently on the lips, giving you a smile, “I love you.”

“I know, I love you too. Thank you for being here with me.”

“Of course, always, baby.”

🏷️Tag list:

@ashecampos @auliisflower @cheesysoup-arlo @frogs00 @ludoesartandstuff @pda128

💭A/N:

This took terribly long, I’m so sorry anon😖 but I’m currently trying to clear my requests before I start any new fics of my own🙂‍↕️

[lillaydee]

Uncoupled - July

Roommate! Joel Miller / Reader

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

Nothing could possibly happen in a year, right?

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

SERIES MASTER LIST

The Uncoupling

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tess, Andy and Frank sat up straight.

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

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

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

Oh. My. God.

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

“What?”

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

“RPH?”

The three nodded enthusiastically.

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

Tess and Andy nodded again.

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

“Oh, Bill, the guy is totally hot.”

“Super-hot,” Andy chimed in.

“Ridiculously hot,” Tess finished.

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

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

“So, did you get his number?”

Huh?

“Why would I get his number?”

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

“What?”

“Hey, he’s really, really hot!”

“I have eyes, thank you.”

“So?”

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

“Hey, you’re totally cute.”

“Super cute.”

“Ridiculously cute.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

**********

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thank God he had them in his life.

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

“Why?”

“She hot?”

“Tommy!” Maria smacked him on the shoulder.

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

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

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

“But she is, hot?”

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

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

“What? You know her babe?”

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

“Tess?”

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

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

Joel and Maria were quiet for a bit.

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

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

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

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

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

Oh well, maybe it’s not meant to be.

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

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

Sigh.

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

**********

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

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

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

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

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

“Beans, what’s he talking about?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You laughed, laying your head on his shoulder.

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

You lifted your head off.

“What are you talking about?”

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

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

He gave you a very serious look.

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

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

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

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

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

“I promise Beans, I promise.”

**********

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

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

“Hi, it’s you. Lily, right?”

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

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

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

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

“You are a man, right?”

Er… where were you going with this, Ellie?

“Last I checked, I am.”

“You have balls?”

“ELLIE!!!”

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

Oh dear God.

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

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

“RPH?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, this is she.”

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

Oh God.

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

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

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

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

---

August

[valwrites-stuff]

Festive fumbles

You and Jason decorate for Christmas and end up making love on the floor in front of the christmas tree.

Jason Newsted x Reader ☆ Smut

It was the first week of December when Jason and I decided it was time to get our christmas tree. We headed to a local tree farm and spent almost an hour searching for the perfect one. Finally, we found it, a tall, full tree that would look great in our living room.

With my help, Jason attached the tree on top of the car and secured it safely for transport before we drove it home. Once we got it inside, Jason set it up in the stand, while I gathered the decorations. We had boxes full of ornaments, lights, and other christmas decor that we had collected over the years.

As Jason left me to start decorating the tree, while he went out to walk the dog, I couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement. Christmas was my favorite time of the year, and I loved the way our house looked when it was filled with holiday cheer.

The smell of fresh pine, the twinkling lights, and the cozy warmth of the fireplace all combined to create a magical atmosphere that always made me feel like a kid again.

I even convinced Jason to get matching christmas sweaters with me, just for fun. Looking down at myself wearing it, I smiled bemusedly at the hideous print.

Chuckling to myself, I started to open the boxes filled with lots of decor, pulling out the green pine garland first, sprawling it on the floor chaotically.

I began to untangle the fairy lights before neatly wrapping them around the tree.

The soft glow of the lights danced across the branches, casting a magical spell over the room.

As I continued to decorate, the room began to transform before my eyes. The tree, once bare, was now a vibrant and glittery centerpiece and I stepped back to admire my handiwork, feeling a sense of pride and satisfaction.

The lights twinkled and the ornaments sparkled, creating a magical atmosphere in our home. I couldn't wait for Jason to come back and see the result.

Deciding there was a finishing touch needed, I stepped onto a chair, that was kind of wobbly and tried adding a star on top without falling and tearing down the whole tree, determined to make it work.

Just as I managed to secure the star, I heard the front door open. Jason was back, and his voice echoed through the house as he called out. "Hey, I’m back!"

I turned my head to greet him, and in that moment, the chair wobbled beneath me. My heart raced as I felt myself losing balance, my feet slipping off the edge.

I reflexively tried to steady myself, but it was too late. I was about to fall, but before I could crash to the ground, I felt strong arms wrap around me. Jason had seen me stumble and rushed to my side, catching me midair.

His quick reflexes saved me from a painful landing, but in his haste, he slipped on the pine garland that lay scattered on the floor.

We both tumbled to the ground, landing with a thud. Jason landed on his bum, and I landed right on top of him. For a moment, we were a tangled mess of limbs, both of us letting out a groan of pain.

As I stared down at an aching Jason with me on top, I couldn’t help but laugh, and his deep, warm laugh joined mine, filling the room with a sense of humor added to the shock of my actions.

"Are you okay?" Jason asked, his eyes filled with concern, but his smile gave away his amusement.

"Uh, I think so," I replied, trying to catch my breath. "But I might have broken something. Like, you?"

Jason grimaced as he tried to move his arms and legs to check for any injuries and, thankfully, everything seemed to move without much discomfort.

"Yeah, I'm alright. But I'm pretty sure my behind won't be forgiving me anytime soon." He chuckled, still attempting to process the situation we found ourselves in.

"I'm so sorry, honey. I should have been more careful." I spoke apologetically, reaching out to straighten his glasses, not realizing that I was full on straddling him.

As my hands came up to adjust his glasses, Jason couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of me on top of him. Knowing there could be worse positions to find ourselves in. "Well that's one way to get you on top of me, isn't it?"

His playful remark sent a flutter through my chest as I realized just how close I was to him. The warmth radiating from his body seeped into mine, my hands lingering on his face, fingers brushing against his stubble as I fixed his pair of lenses.

"I suppose, I should thank you for catching me, although this was totally unintentional." I said with a nervous laugh, trying to break the sudden tension.

Jason's gaze dropped to my lips as he slowly reached up to cup my cheek, thumb stroking over my skin ever so gently. "I'd do anything to keep you safe, especially if it means landing in a heap on the floor together."

I chuckled before Jason leaned in to brush his nose against mine, making me feel all warm and tingly all of a sudden as he held onto my waist.

I found myself leaning in instinctively, drawn to the warmth emanating from his body like a magnet. Our noses brushed again, this time more deliberately, as if savoring the sensation.

His breath tickled your skin and the air between you felt heavy with desire, the room around fading into insignificance as Jason closed the remaining distance, his lips meeting yours in a tender kiss.

I melted against him, enjoying the moment as I moved my lips against his. A hand came to rest on my neck, holding me close as he deepened the kiss, while the other traced over my figure lovingly as we sat in the midst of pine garland scattered all over the carpeted floor.

I could feel Jason smile into the kiss, his fingers tenderly running through my hair before he pulled back with a snicker, studying my face with an affectionate gaze, making me blush heavily. "What?"

His hand slid back onto my waist, as he kept staring at me admiringly. "That sweater is atrocious, but you look adorable in it..."

I let out a huff, my face reddening as I gave his arm a smack. "Shut up. Christmas sweaters are... cute." I was about to say more, but I found myself being distracted by the way his fingers found their way to the hem of the knit piece, causing a slight shiver as they brushed against me.

"Apart from that sweater you're wearing, do you know what else would look good on you? My hands, all over you."

My face turned even hotter at his words, though they made arousal curl through me, making me want him even more. "Oh yeah? You think so?"

I moved closer, my hands running up to rest on his chest, the thought of his muscles under the fluffy material making me bite my lip. "You're going to make me go on Santa's naughty list?"

Jason smirked, his hands trailing down to my ass and squeezing before he teased. "You mean you aren't already on the naughty list?"

A smug smile appeared on my features as I adjusted my position in his lap, feeling the soft bulge underneath me. I reached out to caress the side of his face before gently taking off his glasses as he kept his eyes focused on mine.

As soon as Jason's glasses were off, his intense blue gaze locked onto mine, filled with lust and adoration. He leaned in, capturing those plush lips once more in a searing kiss that left me breathless.

One of Jason's hands slid beneath my sweater, fingers skimming across my heated skin. His touch sent shivers down my spine as he gently cupped my breast.

"You have no idea how much I want you right now," Jason mumbled against my lips, his words dripping with desire.

Breaking the kiss with a gasp, I reached for the hem of my sweater to pull it over my head, revealing a matching red bra.

Jason's pupils dilated as he took in the sight of my lacy red bra against my creamy skin and ran his hands all over me, getting hard in his pants before unzipping and pulling the jeans off my hips and sliding them down my legs.

Stepping out of the garment and throwing it aside, I got back into his lap and straddled him. His hand immediately wandered to my ass, to caress the newly exposed skin parted by a red thong, before his fingers started to dance over the damp spot between my legs.

My breath hitched as Jason's fingers brushed against my slick folds through the thin fabric of my panties. "You're so wet already," he murmured, his voice low and husky with desire.

His thumb rubbed slow circles over my clit, sending shivers down my spine. "Tell me how much you want this, baby."

"Oh I need you so bad." I breathed as I gave in to the soft sensation of his fingers, rubbing me through my panties, soon pulling the material aside to run them through my wet folds, circling the entrance.

Lost in arousal and pleasure, my hand dove between our bodies to gently palm Jason through his pants, before fidgeting with the button to get it open, sliding my hand in, eager to touch and feel.

Jason groaned softly as my skilled fingers found their way inside his pants, seeking the hardness straining for release. As I fondled him inside the fabric, he returned the favor, pushing two long fingers into my dripping channel. He curled them slightly, rubbing that sensitive spot within that made my toes curl and sent sparks of pleasure through my nerves.

A moan escaped my lips as he fingered me delightfully. I stroked his velvety flesh faster, his lips crashing onto mine once more, kissing me passionately, tongues entwining. As my pliant whimpers increased, Jason pulled his digits out of me, leaving me longing for more, my fingers sloppily stroking him.

He quickly undressed from his sweater and grabbed my wrist to withdraw my hand from inside his pants. He grasped onto my thighs and gently pushed me off only to climb on top of me as he shimmied out of the rest of his clothes hurriedly.

Jason loomed over me, nude and radiant under the dim lighting, his muscular physique rippling as he positioned himself between my spread thighs. He took a moment to drink in the sight of me, flushed cheeks, heaving chest, and a look of raw desire in my eyes.

Cupping my face in his large hands, he leaned down to capture my lips again in a deep, hungry kiss. His cock, now free and pulsing with arousal, brushed against my thigh.

Releasing my mouth, he trailed kisses along my jawline, nipping and sucking gently at the skin beneath my earlobe, before whispering hotly, "So beautiful, I need that sweet cunt of yours."

I shivered in anticipation and with a swift, smooth motion, he lined himself up and sunk into my warmth with a satisfied grunt.

Jason's hips began rocking slowly against mine, my arms wrapped around his neck as breathy moans fell from my lips. Capturing my lips in a kiss, his thrusts continued at their pace while my cunt fluttered around him.

The movements became more deliberate, each thrust driving deeper into my welcoming heat. The room filled with the sounds of our mingled moans and the rhythmic slap of skin against skin. My nails dug into his shoulders as I clung to him, lost in the intensity of the moment.

Breaking the kiss, he gazed down at me, his eyes dark with lust. "Look at us...so perfect together," he growled, punctuating his words with a particularly hard stroke.

As he continued to piston in and out of me, his hand snaked down to circle my clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to send shockwaves of pleasure coursing through my body.

The coil of tension within me, wound tighter with each passing second, threatening to snap at any moment. "Oh god, Jason! Don't stop..." I whined, addicted to the way he made me feel.

“You sound so damn pretty moaning my name, baby." He whispered into my ear, holding onto my hips to move faster before feeling me clench around him, gasping before coming undone with a loud moan as my body arched and shook.

With a strained groan, Jason buried his face in the crook of my neck, his hot breath tickling my skin as he struggled to maintain control. But the relentless grip of my quivering flesh proved too much, and with one final, powerful thrust, he succumbed to the inevitable.

A low, guttural moan escaped him as he spilled himself deep inside of me, his seed coating my cervix in waves of heated release.

For a few moments, we both remained locked together, savoring the aftermath of our passionate union before he pulled out and moved to lay next to me on his back, the green garland tickling his skin as his breathing evened out. "Decorating for christmas sure took an interesting turn."

"It sure did, but I wouldn't want to have it any other way. Plus, I think I did a pretty good job on the tree, don't you think?" I spoke as I looked at the tree with a satisfied grin.

Jason turned his head to focus on his surroundings, as he pulled me close, staring at the glimmering christmas tree. "It looks beautiful indeed, but you're far more appealing to me than any tree could ever be."

My heart skipped a beat as his words washed over me, filling me with a sense of love and belonging. In that moment, surrounded by the magic of Christmas, I knew that this was where I was meant to be, in Jason's arms, surrounded by the beauty and wonder of the season.

[young-botanical-genius]

You don't have to be sorry... Seymour felt a pang of guilt for making Audrey feel the need to apologize, but knew that it was probably for the best that they didn't touch too much on the topic of his past. Perhaps someday, if he was lucky, he would feel secure enough to reveal to her all about his life under the sea, about the time he had rescued her from the shipwreck, and about how he had gained the means to come up onto the shore with her. But for now, it seemed a much too complicated subject to try and discuss.

He shook his head once more at her rambling attempts to resolve the potential misunderstanding of her question, although this time, the gesture was accompanied by a soft, reassuring squeeze of her hand. They're not silly! He hated when she would talk about herself like that-- like even the most mundane things she did or said were boring or foolish or meaningless. She did it quite often, and it never failed to puzzle him. How could she possibly think that way?

They're perfectly good questions. He wanted to say, instead opting to give her a small, sad smile in a further attempt at comfort. You deserve to know the answers, and I really, really wish I could tell you everything... but I can't. His free hand rose to brush absentmindedly over his own throat, and he felt himself longing more than ever to have his voice returned to him... even if only for a minute, even if only just to have been able to tell her how wonderful she was and how much he loved her.

His mind drifted to the subject of how much time he had left to spend with her, and his heart sunk at the realization that, provided that he didn't get the kiss needed to keep his human form forever, he only had a few more days left with his legs. After that, it was likely that the two of them would never see each other again, as they would once more be divided by the boundaries of land and sea, and potentially even those of life and death, depending on what sort of horrible fate awaited Seymour if he failed to fulfill the terms of the deal.

The thought alone was nearly enough to make him burst into tears right then and there, but he knew that it would do neither of them any good for him to start crying now. Their interaction had already become awkward enough-- it was clear that they both needed some sort of distraction from the heaviness of their feelings.

A pop of color in his peripheral vision suddenly caught his eye, and he turned his head to see a single, beautiful white lily growing near the banks of the lagoon. Finding that their boat was near enough to the shore and floating slowly enough that he could reach out and pluck it straight from the ground, he leaned over and did just that, proceeding to offer the delicate bloom out to Audrey with a grin of newfound enthusiasm on his face. This is for you.

@young-botanical-genius

Audrey focused on the even back and forth of the paddles through the water as she steered her and her new friend toward the little spot in the lagoon she liked to escape to. She stole glances at the curly haired man across from her, trying not to blush. She knew she had no place taking a liking to this fellow who had seemingly washed up ashore a few nights ago…but his smile was so sweet and his eyes so deep and brown, she couldn’t help herself. But still, she kept it reserved, knowing in a few days time she’d be married off to some prince she had never met. She frowned, scolding herself for being so negative about it. Any prince would be better than the last one she was arranged to marry — but he had drowned in a mysterious shipwreck, one she had nearly met the same fate in, sending the kingdom into a scramble to find her a husband.

The pair turned around a corner into a little pool, surrounded by trees and vines. Moss grew over large boulders and fireflies twinkled in the air. The whole place put Audrey’s troubled mind at ease. “It’s so peaceful, isn’t it?” She smiled warmly, already knowing not to expect a verbal answer. He hadn’t said a word since he’d appeared on the beach, but Audrey didn’t mind. She found that there were other ways you could communicate with someone, and it was a nice change from the men who found every excuse to shut her up and talk over her. She stole another glance at the man across from her, hoping to find that he found her hideaway just as wondrous as she did. “I love comin’ here when I wanna get away for a bit…nobody else in the palace knows about it”.

[rawrsatthetree]

Tired: Tav that’s good for Astarion cause they play therapist and give him support and space to heal

Wired: Tav that’s good for Astarion cause they’re such a disaster he has to get his shit together cause gods above one of them needs to be a functional adult

[dykedvonte]

Honestly I see Jimmy's refusal to put Curly out of his misery less about his weird feelings of envy or his delusions but the fact Curly is all but stated to be a shield to Jimmy from his actions and people seeing the worst in him.

The only characters that Jimmy really interacts with one on one before the crash are Curly and Anya, two individuals he has wildly different relationships with. It's likely that Curly really did most of the talking between them as the pilots and the rest of the crew as staff. They didn't know of Jimmy's more reprehensible behaviors cause they never really had the chance to and Jimmy is subconsciously aware. If they had disliked him more than Anya would have told Swansea earlier or even Daisuke when things got really bad.

It's why he takes the immediate opportunity to blame Curly; He's the shield. He's saved Jimmy's ass more times than he can count and more times than Jimmy would ever admit. Even when he can't really do it anymore, he mentally shields himself from his own faults by putting Curly between them. Letting Curly die puts too much on him because he doesn't know how to function without a safety net.

In the end Curly only lives because Jimmy needs the idea that Curly will inevitably make things better to stay alive, meaning Curly has to live, no matter how much it pains him to do so.

[art-from-the-juice-box]

gen loss dump part 2 :]

i have a gen loss playlist so the last two was me hitting randomize and drawing a pic based on the song before it finished. the second one technically isn’t that cause charlie’s inferno isn’t on apple music cause they hate me so it’s way more of the song out of spite because they wouldn’t give it to me.