#but rosie being eve is like FUCK YEAH IT WORKS

[pageofheartdj]

IF NOT CANON I NEED THIS AS AU YOU DONT UNDERSTAND I NEED IT

(proceed to lose my mind in tags)

(i am seriously losing the skill of speech mid thought in my brain)

So here’s a few general theories I’ve got on both Eve and Roo, their role in the story, as well as at least one rather bonkers theory on how they/she are connected to Charlie.

Which means to begin with, we’re going to make the entirely logical step to talk about Rosie.

Because as I said in a couple posts after the finale, I think Rosie is actually Eve.

Or rather, as I now think, Rosie is an ASPECT of Eve.

To begin with, just about everything Rosie does with Charlie in Episode 7 to me just kinda SCREAMS ‘I’m actually a mysterious relative/family friend you never knew about.’ From the way she immediately goes massively out of her way to help Charlie, not just with the more overt problem of the impending extermination, but also her more personal relationship problems, not to mention little touches like how she insists on Charlie calling her ‘auntie’. As well as making a number of small references that could very easily be more direct foreshadowing:

Rosie’s whole ‘first husband’ comment could easily be a dig at Adam, plus her being a cannibal would make for a pretty clever callback to the visual joke of Adam eating ribs in the first episode.

We also have Rosie’s talk with Charlie about her problems with Vaggie, which feel especially relevant in light of the reveal that Eve seems to have had some kind of romance with Lucifer and Lilith. Rosie’s comments to Charlie clearly hint that she has her own regrets towards a failed relationship, which if she is Eve could easily hint at whatever went down between her, Lilith and Lucifer. Not to mention, given the CLEAR parallels that Charlie and Vaggie have to Lucifer and Lilith, it would be all too fitting if it turned out that Eve was the one helping to mend their relationship.

There’s also one other visual detail about Rosie… but more on that later.

So how does this tie back to Roo?

Well you know how I said I think Rosie is an aspect or part of Eve?

I think Roo is the OTHER part of Eve.

As in, I think that Roo and Rosie (hey, look at those similar names) are each the two parts of Eve that split apart when she became the ‘Root of All Evil’.

When you get down to it, I think Roo as a character and her role in the story as a whole is to be a subversive exploration of the idea of the scapegoat and Christian ideas/fixation on guilt and penance. Roo might actually BE this big, terrible ‘Root of All Evil’, ‘Embodiment of Sin’, ‘Unfettered Force of Chaos’, ‘Heart of Hell itself’ ultimate big-bad of the show that much of the fandom is assuming…

But only because she/Eve chose this role out of her own guilt and self-loathing. Eve only believes that she’s this terrible, irredeemable person at the root of all the evils of mankind, and has thus chosen to embody that.

And I think in the process of becoming Roo, this being of pure evil, Eve tried (emphasis on tried) to split off all the ‘good’ within her. Which in turn became Rosie. Alternatively, Rosie could have been deliberately split off from Roo to act as her agent, but may have become self-aware enough that she’s trying to stop/save Roo, hence her going out of her way to help Charlie. And of course this would also neatly explain her friendship with Alastor, himself likely also an agent of Roo.

Which in turn is going to be the crux of her conflict with Charlie, and the ultimate villain redemption of the story. Like of course we’re going to find out about Roo’s big, terrible villainous plots to perhaps corrupt humanity or subsume all of Hell or destroy Heaven and how she’s likely the one pulling Alastor’s strings and has maybe had him essentially ‘feeding her’ Overlords to increase her power and how she’s likely the cause of Lilith’s disappearing seven years ago and ending up in Heaven and all kinds of other things our heroes will have to fight against.

Until we get to our big, final confrontation with Roo and both we and Charlie discover that this terrible being of pure evil is in fact this traumatized, grief-stricken woman utterly consumed by guilt and self-loathing. The one person who, more than anyone else, NEEDS the help and redemption that Charlie has spent the whole show trying to offer others.

And also might be Charlie’s other mom.

Yeah, it’s bonkers theory time :D

So back during the rough… twenty to thirty minutes or so between finishing Episode 7 and seeing the post-credits scene in Episode 8, I was VERY sure that Rosie was actually Lilith in disguise (as you can see from this rather amusing post/reblog :D), for basically all the reason I listed above about why Rosie feels like an in-disguise Eve,

But ALSO because of Rosie’s cheek blush-marks that look CURIOUSLY SIMILAR to Charlie’s own. And if you’ve read any of my numerous Rosebird Parents theory posts, you can imagine I immediately latched onto that.

However! This is NOT a theory that Eve is somehow Charlie’s ‘real mom’. That is stupid and I will not hear Lilith slander in this house. Note instead that I said that Eve might be Charlie’s OTHER mom…

Basically I think Charlie has three parents thanks to Lucifer, Lilith and Eve each actually being some variety of functionally intersex due to wacky angel/demon/primordial-human physiology. And the three of them conceived Charlie Gilgamesh-style via Lilith and Eve knocking up Lucifer.

Hey, I want this show to get WEIRD, okay?

Even just speaking generally, we’re already got more or less soft-confirmation that SOMETHING was going on between Eve, Lilith and Lucifer, and that Eve seemed to have specifically left Adam for Lucifer and Lilith. So I’d say it’s not at all a stretch to think that Lilith, Lucifer and Eve will turn out to be a tragic, broken polycule driven apart by each of their baggage and trauma.

Or that a major aspect of the show will end up being about Charlie (with Vaggie’s (and possibly Emily’s…) help) working to get her parents back together.

In fact, I can already imagine what a suitably cute/heartwarming/feelsy reunion Eve could have with Lucifer and Lilith:

Eve, having just been freed from her self-imposed prison/punishment by Charlie, is about to launch into a guilt-and-regret-laden spiel about how she knows how they must hate her and how she doesn’t deserve them…

Only for Lucifer gives Eve a big cute hug.

And then Lilith gives Eve a Big Damn Kiss XD

Simply put, I think it’s pretty clear that Hazbin Hotel is NOT the kind of the show to just go and make a woman the source of all the evil and sin and bad of the world and seemingly the ultimate big bad and NOT examine, interrogate and SUBVERT THE EVERLIVING HELL out of that concept/trope.

[jabberwockprince]

this entire post about the hanahaki disease and eve made me black out for one hour to draw this

EVERYONE SAY THANK YOU TO @smittenroses AND THEIR LOVELY ADDITIONS FOR FUELING THE BRAINROT

some design notes and ideas i had while drawing this in a feverish, dionysian frenzy, i didnt even stop to think i just HAD TO GET THIS OUT OF MY SYSTEM <33

read the linked post for further context bc im working on an EMPTY STOMACH AND A BRAIN FULL OF EVE

i wanted her to be our beloved eve, but a little to the left. yknow. eve but something is off her usual characteristic bright colors ( the blues and yellows and greens she wears ) muted down to a dangerous degree. missing various iconic details like her earrings or hand-holding necklace, etc

something something, she's losing her sense of self while trying to figure out more about this new, hidden side she's just discovered. the side that's causing all the flowers to clog up her throat and all

also also. a subtle feeling of restraint in the way her hair is now a braid that wraps around her throat, also held together by black and white beads. and the hands, a very prominent theme in her art, now holding her chest - but in a "keeping her body together" kinda way, not in a sexy kind of way sadly

OH FUCK. I FORGOT TO ADD IT BUT HER HENNA DESIGNS BEING FLORAL PATTERN.....

read rosie's latest addition to the linked post RIGHT FUCKING NOW because the daffodils and the themes of eve wanting to embody art but not being ready for people to inspect the piece of art she's made out of herself is. is so. YEAH.

also i imagine her jacket is replaced by this daffodil inspired coat that is the MOST eye catching thing. as a way to represent how this obsession with finding out what feelings shes repressing is taking over her entire sense of self

i wanted to add more eye motifs, since eve's art is a lot about her complex relationship with being perceived and also using that same fear as a weapon herself when feeling cornered (yknow. that one moment with zuke where she starts insulting him and saying he's "one of them". yknow. YOU KNOW) but maybe later in a proper design

bUT!!!! you know how in her cover art, the eyes are also different palettes? but once you beat her, they're HER actual eyes crying and closing. i wanted that but. in a much more aggressive way, like she's actively searching for the parts within herself she cannot understand

god i love her i love her so much guys shes so

[bcolfanfic]

hi hi! I’ve been reading all your young vets HC, do you have anymore about rosie and Aiden?

aiden and wosieeee!!!! my babies!!! yes i do!!! have posted this before but just for ref again this is what aiden looks like in my head.

i’ve covered this before but aiden is curt's childhood friend that curt set rosie up with when he was like okay maybe its not that you're bad with woman maybe you dont LIKE women

worked out though <3

aiden has um some of curt's special (terroristic) tendancies lmfao. they grew up together. they are life long friends for a reason. he’s been around the block in the nyc queer community, for lack of a better word.

but rosie mellows him out a little. dating someone with a little daughter will do that to you <3

funny bc he didn’t even want kids like- at all. only even let curt set him up with someone that had one because he didn’t think it would be anything serious.

*loud incorrect buzzer*

was just so enamored from the first dateeee but how nervous and sweet and nerdy rosie was.

and by how when he took him home he finished in his pants and was so apologetic and embarrassed about it that he almost cried lmao.

curt is proud of his foresight in setting them up for the rest of his fucking life. runs that victory lap foreverrrrr.

but yeah. aiden loves the boy bad.

always finding excuses to hang out and like it’s talked about in my recent blurb- tries to go out of his way to include naomi in things too which goes right to rosie’s heart.

rosie also falls hard pretty fast which he struggles with a little. just. scared it’s inevitable that he’s gonna scare him off or turn him off or something. realizes he’d be heartbroken if this didn’t work and is like ohhh no.

there are some. growing pains re: aiden not having a military background and feeling a little out of his depth trying to help him with his hurts from the war.

feels like anything he says or does is going to be Wrong and is scared of making it worse somehow. but talks to curt about it which helps him at least figure out an Approach for next time it comes up.

a lot of rosie’s trauma is surrounding nash’s death (background being: nash started spiraling after some kids he bonded with in the area were killed. went out to smoke in a high risk area that people weren’t supposed to but did anyways now and then. got argumentative when people were like hey man go somewhere else, stayed up there and ended up getting a sniper round in the skull. both rosie and ev were there and saw it </3)

so it also helps aiden help when rosie is a little more open with him about that. carries a wholeee lot of guilt about it. and has some more ‘niche’ triggers related to it that come up every now and then too. (rachel came up with him getting triggered at aiden’s parents house bc his dad asks him for help with grill stuff and he. has a little Moment he gets real embarrassed about after because does not like raw meat smell or appearance texture)

sweet boy. let your boyfriend that’s obsessed with you help- he loves you!!!

[state-of-franklin]

Like I had a dream of Season 2 last night, and weirdly it seemed exactly like what Season 2 might actually be like in terms of reveals. Like it turned out Alastor was actually a fraud, he didn’t kill all those overlords when he first got to Hell, but rather lied and said he did, and began attaining some power over the years with that rep, never a lot but enough to beat out smaller names, that being why he was so dependent on smaller deals like those he had Rosie keep an eye out for. He wasn’t pacing himself but desperately trying to live up to the myth of the Radio Demon. And it turned out Husk had been more powerful than Alastor when he acquired his soul, and the day he did was just as stressful for Alastor as it was for Husk. Then Vox tried to have him join the Vees, Alastor turned him down since he didn’t want to truth of his power being much lower than thought being found out, they got in a fight, and Alastor was legitimately hurt but managed to hide it and leave before Vox realised, just as he did with Adam. Alastor then encountered the real force responsible for those overlords going missing: Eve, the first woman. Basically in the world of ‘Hazbin’, before Heaven and Hell, there was simply Good and Evil, literal personifications, concepts given awareness. Good was the first to gain mass, becoming God, creating the angels and then Earth, Adam, Lilith, Eve, while Evil was left a simple force, until Lilith formed the apple of free will and gave it to Eve, infecting her with Evil, and so she became its embodiment, God’s counterpart in evil. Who could be seen in the opening storybook in the first episode, Go(o)d a closed eye amongst clouds, Evil a red eye(s) and smile amongst darkness, I checked once I woke up to ensure that shot was real. So basically all descendants of hers, humanity, would have both good and evil within them: the reason Adam was in Heaven was that in spite of being a jerk, he never had Evil as a concept within him. So what neither Alastor or Eve would have known was that because of this, he was among the few that could ever kill her (Evil), and now that Niffty took him out of the picture, the only ones left who could do so are Lilith and Charlie, the only ones of human descent not to be infected with Evil on some level (angels not having the right stuff to make it work). Anyway my dream had it that Alastor and Lilith hadn’t really met, but once Alastor made his deal with Eve, and she got herself a representative, Lilith felt it, and immediately fled to Heaven. And we would find this out since in Season 2, overlords started to go missing again as they once did before, only this time Alastor couldn’t really claim credit. My dream ended before it was clear who had killed them, whether it was Eve trying to find a new rep (the process having dissolved the souls of most whose wills were not powerful enough to escape her, before she had found Alastor, who would have spent the seven years he was gone attempting to escape her mass, regain corporeality to act on Eve’s behalf), or whether it was Lilith trying to figure out which overlord was Eve’s rep and wipe them out, but it did feature Vox be killed later on in the season, and Valentino and Velvette had a beautiful mournful ballad in response to this, like with her being the source of all Evil in this world I could have seen Val apologists in real life saying all he did wasn’t his fault because of her, what her influence did, which wouldn’t be great, but the scene my mind came up with was (great). So anyway Alastor’s purpose would have been to prevent redemption within Hell from being possible, since it would ruin Eve. It seemed surprisingly plausible to canon as we know it: I was thoroughly impressed with my subconscious mind on waking up.

Op did Apollo just be like “oh yeah I’m gonna give this bitch everything tn just for funnies” like the FUCK?!?

[dire-kumori]

❤️ What is your favorite line that you’ve written in a fic?

👻 What is your wildest headcanon?

📚 Is there a fanfic or fanfic writer you recommend?

Fanfic Writer Ask Game

❤️ What is your favorite line that you’ve written in a fic?

Hmm... Good question XD. You know I am proud of my stories, but I have a hard time picking out individual lines I like best. But here are a few I like from Ever After (since that's the one I'm actively working on):

"The door slammed with the finality of a coffin lid."

(Maybe it's a touch cheesy, but I'm still happy with it.)

"Fredbear’s accusing black eyes bore into him from across the mattress, seeing straight through the lie he'd never voiced."

(This line didn't quite want to work at first and I was so happy when I finally felt like I got it right.)

“EVAN!” Elizabeth screeched, wiping the sand from her face and hair. “YOU GOOBER!”

(I just really had fun writing Ev and Liz being happy, goofy kids and I can actually hear Elizabeth's little girl scream every time I reread that line.)

“JESUS BLOODY FUCK-!”

(I sent this to my friend with limited context. He told me it made him giggle. It still makes me giggle.)

👻 What is your wildest headcanon?

I dunno if I have any 'wild' headcanons. I mean the FNAF fandom is pretty much held together by the popsicle sticks and glue that are crazy headcanons. Mine seem pretty tame by comparison.

A headcanon I do have that I haven't really done much with is that Mike actually has a different mother than the twins (and yeah, I do headcanon Ev and Liz as twins). In my version of events, Will had a drunken one night stand with Mike's mom when he was either still engaged to or newly married to Evan's and Elizabeth's mom. It did cause some tension, but ultimately Will managed to convince his wife to stay with him. However, she made it 100% clear from the get go that she wasn't interested in raising another woman's child. Will said that he was okay with that, but he had the presumptuous idea that she would change her mind because Michael is his son, his DNA, and she loves him so how could she not love his offspring as well? They fought about this expectation a lot and eventually the tension boiled over. William blamed Michael for the marriage dissolving, but since Michael grew up thinking that Will's wife was his mom, he never realized the true reason. Growing up, Michael assumed she left because of his bad behavior as a kid.

📚 Is there a fanfic or fanfic writer you recommend?

@lonelyfreddles

You know what's funny is when I got that first comment from Kats on my fic, I'd already read and loved By Cain's Own Hand, and I had a mini freak out that Kats liked MY writing. Pretty much everything Kats writes breaks my heart in the best possible way.

@cloudwhisper23

Who's written some incredible fics based off of Kats' Silent Protector AU and my Paradoxical Reaper AU. I really love how they adopted those ideas and made them their own!

@honey-bunnysaurus

Okay, so they aren't fanfics, but Honey has written some REALLY cool ideas for the Lonely Children AU which I love to read over and again! I especially love this short snapshot they've written in their reblog of the Lonely Children thread.

YOU!

I'm still vibrating with excitement over those short WIPs you tagged me in and I'll probably pass out from excitement when you post the final product!

I've had a lot of fun coming over to the FNAF fandom. In a short amount of time I've met a lot of really creative and cool people, including a few I haven't mentioned here.

And now for some non-FNAF fic:

@bakumeowkatsuki

My friend Rosi who I met in another fandom. Even though I'm not so active in the BNHA fandom anymore, I still have a soft spot for the crack ship Rosi and I came up with together and the fics they've written for that fic. Rosi does a lot of short and sweet fics and if you're into Ensemble Stars!, Critical Role, or Persona 4, I'd recommend you find them on AO3 (roserosa).

As for some of my favorite fics (not counting those written by the authors above):

Forever A Lost Boy At Last

at least we're together this time!

Dissatisfaction Brought it Back

Encore!

and

Friends, Family, and Frights!

[hunterwritesstuff]

Orion update?

Sure! :D Sorry for the lack of heads recently btw lol been struggling with getting energy to draw them XD

Val - “Lust-filled bitch.”(Hated)

Vox - “Why do you use others the way you do?”(Tension)

Velvet - "I'll leave my clothing repairs to Rosie, thanks."(Tension)

Hex - “Don’t mistreat her.”(Tension)

Husk - “You don’t tire of me talking about my family, do you?”(Friendly)

Shirley - “Thank you for being there for me in my hardest times and moments…”(Family)

Ebony -  “I will tell you what you would like to hear about them. Thank you…”(Friendly)

Ranni - "Can...can I pet you...?"(Tension)

Alastor - “A fake smile is worse than no smile at all.”(Neutral)

Rosie - "Thanks for doing repairs on my clothes."(Friendly)

Orion - "Fallen from grace, ruined my face. Abandoned family, what a loser."(Hated)

Charlie - "Thank you for giving me a second chance.”(Neutral)

Angel Dust - “You are proof that Charlie’s plan works.”(Friendly)

Vaggie - “Thank you for being so patient with me and not being judgemental.”(Tension)

Lute - “You are just as bad as Adam.”(Tension)

Adam - “You deserve to rot. I hope you know I’m never letting you near Shirley, wretch.”(Hated)

Jax - “You will never be redeemed. You will never improve. You are hate itself.“(Hated)

Lucifer - “You didn’t deserve what you went through when you fell.” (Friendly)

Peter - "Thank you for being her grunkle..."(Family)

Astrid - "Can I...get a hug...?"(Friendly)

Lilith - "Stay the fuck away from Lucifer."(Tension)

Eve - "Why are you so fucking obsessed?!?"(Hated)

Dante - "I...take care, yeah...?"(Friendly)

Bob - "...you...you didn't know...? Did...did they not ask you for guidance...?"(Tension)

Cain - "...how dare you?"(Hated)

Abel - "It's okay, it's okay, you're safe..."(Friendly)

Vesper - "Thank you...you make such sweet music...I could listen all day..."(Friendly)

Celeste - "She's too sweet for his ass."(Friendly)

Emily - "I wish we could talk more..."(Friendly)

Sera - "...no words are wished to be exchanged."(Hated)

Azrael - "...you don't fucking deserve her."(Tension)

Uriel - "So much for wisdom."(Tension)

Gabriel - "I hold no ill will nor blame towards you."(Friendly)

Michael - "Some 'justice'. What 'justice' tears a family apart?! I didn't fucking DO ANYTHING!!! WHY DID YOU HAVE TO BE SO FUCKING SELFISH?! WHY DID YOU HAVE TO THROW ME OUT?!? WHY, YOU FUCKING BASTARD, WHY?!?"(Hated)

Hope ya enjoy! :D

[t0wnspersonb]

Merry Christmas (Miya Atsumu x Reader)

Word Count: 2.8K

Warnings: SMUT, oral (female receiving), bad language, my shit writing, falling further in love with Miya Atsumu

Summary: It’s Christmas Eve, and you and your boyfriend had planned on exchanging gifts only for hours to go by and there’s still no sign of him. Atsumu feels incredibly guilty for being late, but he makes up for that lateness in a different way.

~~~~

Christmas came early ya’ll! I hope you like this one! I also hope that I was able to capture Atsumu’s personality and dialect accurately lol. This was a lot of fun to write and I apologize for any mistakes lol. I just really wanted to get this one out before I start getting busy with work and getting everything ready for Christmas. 

As always, let me know what you think!:)

~~~~

Shit. Atsumu knew that he fucked up. He was supposed to be at the spot hours ago. He was just too caught up in practice that time had slipped by. 

 One more set, was his mindset each time, long after the rest of the team had wanted to call it quits for the day. 

 If it wasn’t for Osamu yelling at him that Y/n had been waiting, he would still be in the gym.

 Fuck, he felt like the worst boyfriend on the planet. Having practice on Christmas Eve was one thing but forgetting about meeting up with his cute girlfriend was another. And it was fucking freezing outside, the snow heavily falling from the gray sky.

 He felt even worse knowing that the spot you guys always met up at was outside, a quiet little area nestled deep in the park you guys passed by on your way home.

 You hadn’t stayed right? Surely you would have gone home by now. 

 There was no way that you would have stayed in this weather. Regardless, Atsumu ran faster than he’s ever ran in practice. 

 There was no way…. 

 Guilt ate at his heart the minute his eyes found your figure.

 You were hunched over on the bench, cupping your glove covered hands against your mouth, attempting to blow hot air into your freezing fingers.

 Snow covered your bundled-up body, clung to your delicate lashes and hair that peaked out from under your beanie. Beside you sat a decorative bag, pristine and clearly a gift that was supposed to be given to him. 

 Atsumu didn’t think he deserved his Christmas present at this point. 

 “Y/n!” He called out, finally jogging the rest of the way until he was right in front of you, visible puffs of air escaping his lips as he tried to catch his breath. “M’sorry, I lost track of time. Ya must be freezin’... why didn’t you go to my house? Ya know that Samu is home right –”

 “Atsumu!” 

 His eyes widened as you sprang up, eyes wide and bright. A sweet smile stretched across your lips as you gazed up at him. 

 There was no sight of annoyance or sadness in your face. Something that he had expected to happen.

 But the way you were looking at him, and the way that your full cheeks and the tip of your nose was incredibly rosy and begging to be smothered in his kisses, well, he had never seen such a beautiful sight before.

 “Merry Christmas.” You breathed out, wide eyes twinkling in happiness.

 Atsumu’s face softened, his large hands reaching to cup your face. He felt a harder tug of guilt in his heart at the way you sighed and closed your eyes in content at the warmth his hands provided. 

 He didn’t deserve such a kind and sweet-hearted girl like yourself; especially when he did things like today.

 He didn’t even have your gift, it was still at his house, waiting to be picked up hours ago after he had gotten home from practice.

 “Yeah. Merry Christmas.” He murmured before pressing his hot lips to your cold ones. 

 You sighed softly, melting into his much larger body. The heat that he supplied felt incredible against your body. 

 Atsumu moved his lips tenderly against your own, hating how your usually soft and warm lips were slightly chapped and incredibly cold. 

 But the butterflies were still there, the familiar feeling of your body pressing into his was still there, and all he could think about was warming you up. 

 A kiss like this was a step in the right direction for that. 

 The longer he kissed you though, the colder you would still get. He realized that when he felt you shiver softly against him. 

 Reluctantly he pulled away, his large hands still holding your face in between warm palms. 

 “Yer an idiot.” He chuckled lightly as a soft pout formed on your lips.

 “I was waiting for you.” You pouted.

 “I know. Ya should’ve just gone home though. Look at ya.” He frowned, carefully unraveling the scarf around his neck, and wrapping it around yours. 

 He watched with gentle eyes as you shivered at the newly added warmth before you snuggled your chin deeper into the scarf, inhaling his familiar scent.

 “What about you?” You asked, voice slightly muffled from the fabric.

 “M’fine. The house is close by anyway. Let’s get ya into something warmer yeah?” He said reaching for your hand. 

 “You haven’t opened your gift yet!” You exclaimed, grabbing the bag.

 “I’ll open it at home. Come on, I don’t want ya out here in the cold any longer, yer gonna get sick.” He frowned and started tugging you on the path back home.

 The walk home was filled with laughter and conversation as you guys talked about his practice. There was still no sign of any irritation about him being late; and Atsumu still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that he had just a sweet girlfriend, he truly didn’t deserve your forgiveness or love. But he was just as greedy with you as he was when it came to volleyball.

 “Stupid.” Osamu sighed, watching from the doorway as you guys removed your shoes, Atsumu was tugging at the layers on your body now that they were soaking wet from the change in temperature. He definitely didn’t want you getting sick. 

 “Shut up!” Atsumu snapped, shooting his brother a glare; ignoring the whines of protest as he hastily yanked your outer layers off. 

 “Ya owe me some pudding for saving yer ass again. I’m sure he’d still be at practice if I hadn’t called him.” Osamu said pointedly.

 You giggled at the irritated expression on Atsumu’s face. The banter between the twins was definitely a lot better now that they were older, but it was still there.

 Atsumu clicked his tongue in annoyance, watching as his twin left his house; waving goodbye and promising that he would see them later tonight at their parents’ house.

 “So damn annoying.” Atsumu muttered under his breath before his attention was turned back to you. 

 Despite the warm temperature in the house, you were shivering. 

 “Wanna take a bath?” Atsumu asked, but he was already tugging you towards the bathroom. He still needed to shower too, and if he got it to do it with you, that was even better.

 Steam filled the room as the both of you undressed. Atsumu’s greedy eyes trailing down your body, appreciating the beauty in your nakedness. 

 “Don’t look.” You huffed, arms wrapping around your exposed body. 

 Atsumu chuckled, teasingly tugging at the strand of hair that started curling around your collarbone.

 “I’ve seen ya naked plenty of times baby. Why are you so shy now?”

 Atsumu chuckled again as he watched red bleed into your cheeks; the embarrassed, pouty look on your face was entirely adorable.

 Instead of commenting, and risking getting hit, Atsumu simply grabbed your much smaller hand and tugged you towards the spray of the shower. 

 “Sorry.” He murmured softly, watching as a deep shudder tore through your body at the heat of the water. You shook your head, eyes fluttering shut as you let the water run down your head and face, soaking you completely.

 He couldn’t tear his eyes off of you. He couldn’t voice it enough, couldn’t even remotely convey how he felt about you. He’s said it before, but he never understood why someone so soft, so pretty, wanted to be with someone like him.

 His teammates, even his brother, didn’t know either. Honestly, sometimes they didn’t think Atsumu deserved you. But he knew that too. 

 Again, he was a greedy man when it came to you. If you were willing to stay, despite all of his flaws, despite the fact that he did put volleyball over you, then he was never going to let you go. 

 “Need help washing up?” You teased, gazing up at the tall male, water clung to your lashes, making your eyes look more innocent and brighter. 

 “That’s just an excuse to touch me isn’t it?” Atsumu flirted back, reaching to yank your naked body closer to his. 

 Arousal spiked in his blood as your breasts pressed against his own skin, and the way you were looking at him… 

 How were you so pretty?

 “Of course it is. When your boyfriend is a pro volleyball player, and looks like this, you want to touch them as much as you can.” You bantered back, but your eyes were shining, reflecting back so much love and affection that it took his breath away.

 “I am pretty great, aren’t I?” He teased but his expression was incredibly soft. 

 “The best.” You murmured. 

 Atsumu’s eyes flashed dangerously, he had to have you. 

 “Let’s hurry so we can exchange gifts already.” You laughed, reaching for the soap. “I’ll help you.”

 ****

 Atsumu found himself sitting on the couch, eyes glued to the tv as you moved around the kitchen, preparing some hot chocolate for the two of you.

 “Who’s winning?” You asked, carefully setting the mugs down on the coffee table, taking your place next to him on the couch.

 Atsumu was immediately distracted, his eyes moving from the tv to your exposed legs. Your clothes were in the dryer, and you had opted for one of his shirts that was entirely too big for your frame. 

 He watched as you took a sip from the mug, your tongue darting out to lick at your lips. He couldn’t help imagining you using your tongue on something else.

 “Tsumu?” You looked at him curiously. But when you took notice of the hungry look on his face, the way his eyes seemed to zero in on you; you couldn’t help the blush and deep twinge that sparked in your lower belly. 

 “I think I’m ready for my present now.” He murmured, voice darkening as he reached to pull the mug out of your hand, placing it back on the coffee table. 

 You swallowed thickly. 

 “It’s still by the front door. I can go get it for you…” you trailed off shyly, but you knew that he wasn’t talking about that Christmas gift.

 His lips twitched in amusement, his body moving to press against your own. 

 “That wasn’t the present I was talkin’ about. I think I’ll go after the one that’s already a little unwrapped, yeah?” Thick fingers dragged softly against the bare skin of your thigh, sliding up until he was grasping the hem of his t-shirt that rested against the upper part of your leg. 

 A soft gasp escaped your lips, as he wrapped his hand around your upper thigh and pulled, causing your world to tilt as he forced you onto your back, his larger frame resting between your parted legs. 

 Atsumu yanked the piece of fabric up, causing the shirt to bundle up against your chest, your body completely exposed to him now. 

 Shyness burned in your body, manifesting into a bright red resting on your cheeks, the back of your hand coming up to cover your mouth as you casted your gaze to the side, eyes glued to the tv. 

 A low whistle sounded through Atsumu’s lips as his eyes slid over your skin. His fingers reached up, sliding against the soft skin of your belly, gently tracing along the undersides of your breasts before cupping them in warm hands. His thumb and index finger gently tweaking against your pebbling nipples. 

 Pleasure rippled through your body, causing you to whine and squirm beneath him, you could already feel slick heat beginning to accumulate between your thighs, your core burning and aching to be touched. 

 “So pretty.” He cooed, trailing his hand back down your body, gently squeezing at the flesh that sat upon your hips before he gently pried your legs open further. Atsumu moaned in appreciation at the sight of your weeping cunt, swollen and glistening. 

 “I haven’t even touched you yet and look how wet you are for me.” He breathed in awe, a thick finger gently dragging through your drenched folds, gently pressing against your puffy clit. You jumped at the sudden touch, body trembling at the zap of pleasure it gave you. 

 “Pretty baby. You want my tongue or my fingers?” he murmured, his voice deep and dark now. 

 “Both.” you whined; eyes fluttering shut as he pressed down against your clit again. 

 “My baby is being greedy today.” he grinned, large hand suddenly coming down to swat at your aching cunt. 

 The rippling sensation of his slap stung deliciously, causing your walls to clench around nothing as a low whine tore through your lips. 

 “So fucking pretty.” he breathed, and then his tongue flattened against your slit, sliding up to take your swollen clit into his mouth. Atsumu gave you no time to adjust to pleasure that trembled through your body, his movements were fast and greedy as he easily slid a thick finger against your slick walls, curling up to rub against that devastating part inside of you. 

 A sob tore through your lips as your legs trembled, moving to close together as your body tried wiggling away from the intense pleasure his mouth and fingers were giving you. Atsumu grunted against your slick cunt, the vibrations causing another whine to escape your lips. His finger slid out carefully, as his hands came up to grab at your hips, pinning you to the spot so that you couldn’t move away.

 Atsumu didn’t mind the way your thighs were squeezing his head as he sucked and licked at your perfect pussy. Your taste, your smell, the softness of your flesh; if he could choose a way to die it would be this. 

 “Atsumu!” you cried, gushing around his tongue as your orgasm hit. Your eyes were squeezed shut as you struggled to catch your breath. Your head was spinning in pleasure, body still trembling. Just like how he was in volleyball, Atsumu wasted no time; he tugged your body up, hands moving to remove the shirt completely before he tugged you onto his lap. 

 You mewled softly as you felt the hardness of his cock slide against your drenched folds, before you felt something thick and blunt being pressed against your entrance; slowly and carefully breaking you open as you clung to his broad shoulders, face pressed against his neck. 

 You moaned softly against his skin as you sunk down on his thick cock, walls fluttering and clutching at his length until he was sheathed inside you completely. Despite how many times he has had you, he was always in awe at how well you took his cock. 

 The fullness that Atsumu gave you was always shocking, and you hadn’t realized that you were making pitiful and desperate noises until Atsumu was hushing you softly, pressing his lips against your temple tenderly.

 “My pretty baby feels so good.” He moaned, gently nipping at your lobe, voice gravelly as he breathed hotly against your ear. “Gonna start movin’ ya okay?” his large hands gripped at your hips, and carefully he began sliding your body up and down, maneuvering you perfectly; his cock rubbing and stretching your walls in a way that left you whiny and breathless. 

 You could only take it as he helped you fuck yourself onto his hard member; you clung to him helplessly as he continued to drive his cock up in time with the way he moved your hips down. You whimpered and moaned into his neck, lips pressing against the skin as you attempted to smother your sounds. 

 “Start movin’ baby.” He murmured. 

 Despite the way that your legs burned, you listened, body moving on its own. Atsumu slid one of his hands against your back, trailing up to grab at the back of your neck, carefully pulling you away so that he could look at you.

 “Fuck… you like ridin’ my cock?” he groaned, eyes taking in your flushed face and glassy eyes. He didn’t give you time to answer; he pulled you in for a heated kiss, tongue clashing and rubbing against your eyes, spit drooling out the sides of your mouth and falling onto your breasts. 

 You could feel the familiar pressure of your release bubbling up in your stomach, causing your hips to snap down against his faster, his cock reaching a depth within you that caused a loud cry to escape your lips. Atsumu greedily swallowed every sound before pulling away to stare at your face. 

 “Come on baby, cum for me, yeah?” he breathed, fingers reaching down to play with your swollen clit. “Make it a good one for me.”

 Your release was devastating; body convulsing against his as you sagged into his chest, face pressed against his shoulder as you all but went limp in his grasp. 

 “Fuck.” he rasped, hips rocking faster before a loud groan escaped his mouth, his warmth spilling into your body. 

 Atsumu’s breathing was ragged as he gasped for air, his hands rubbing against your spent body carefully, one of his hands tangling into the air at the back of your head, keeping you close to him as his lips pressing against your temple once again.

 “Merry Christmas baby.” he breathed. 

 “You want your present now?” you laughed, breathless. 

 Atsumu couldn’t help but chuckle arms squeezing you tight. 

 This was a merry Christmas indeed.

[maddiewritesstucky]

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Pairing: Stripper Bucky / Architect Steve

Words: 3790

Tags: Sexy shower antics, post-exercise endorphin highs, Steve is a badass for like 10 minutes, Bucky is not a morning person (until he suddenly is), enthusiastic morning sex

A follow-up one-shot to the slow death of Steve Rogers. Many thanks to my radiant cassowary @kalee60​ for giving it your clever eyes. Infinite birdseed for you 😘

(Also on Ao3)

When Bucky wakes up, he is aware of two things, and two things only.

One - it’s way too fucking early for his eyelids to have peeled themselves back the way they have, if the rosy tint of the sky outside is anything to go by, and two - his foot should have connected with some part of Steve’s anatomy by now on it’s customary post-waking stretch across the mattress.

His body is coming online one limb at a time, and he grunts his displeasure into the rumpled sheets; gaze firmly averted from the clock on the bedside table. Putting a number to it will only make him angry, and the stupid beautiful soft dawn light filling the bedroom tells him everything he needs to know anyway. 

Why they had decided to move into Steve’s apartment when Bucky’s actually had things like properly functioning curtains, he has no idea. 

"Steve,”  he groans, voice thick with the remnants of sleep and the injustice of waking before he intended to. 

He kicks his foot out a little further; throws an arm out to join the search party too, but finds Steve’s side of the bed decidedly more vacant than it had been when he fell asleep last night. 

Running, some vaguely helpful part of Bucky’s subconscious supplies, you fell for a man who goes running at bastard o’clock in the morning. 

He flops over onto his back and scrubs his hands up over his face; up through the tangled mess of hair that seems to find new ways of defying its scrunchie-prison every night. His vision sharpens into focus and sticks a moment on the giant canvas print photo of himself and Steve smiling back at him from the far wall; a grinning relic of a Bucky who was not woken before his time.

It still makes his stomach flip a little, that picture - the two of them stuffed into the heavy-knit sweaters Bucky’s ma had made them last Christmas; both in the  throes of losing their shit over the comically absurd miscalculation she’d made on size. Steve’s got tears in his eyes, and Bucky’s aren’t even open, and they’re clinging to each other with that special kind of desperation that intense, prolonged laughter seems to spawn.

It’s everything good about their life together, that photo; the sheer warmth and joy they’ve found in one another over the past year, the sense of  home and family and right. 

It’s even more heartwarming, Bucky finds, when the sun is a reasonable distance above the horizon.

He drags his protesting body out of its sleep-warmed cocoon, his intentions set on the brand new bag of espresso grind that Last-Night Bucky had so wisely left sitting on the kitchen counter. 

He’s going to use Steve’s favorite mug, the one he’d happened across in a yard sale that reads ‘architects do it on drafting tables’  with a lewd stick figure drawing. Partially because it holds the most coffee, and partially because if Steve had remained in bed this morning, with all his familiar warmth and dependable big-spoon behavior, Bucky would have remained blissfully unconscious until his alarm went off. 

...Steve’s not here to actually  see  this particular middle-finger of a gesture, but that’s beside the point. Bucky will  know.

It’s not until he’s shuffling his way down the hall, already two steps past the closed bathroom door, that Bucky registers the faint sounds of water hitting tile, and the sporadic, off-key hum of a post-run Steve. 

His feet halt in their tracks before he’s even made the conscious decision that coffee can wait.

He wants to keep walking, to get his precious cup of bean nectar and crawl back into bed for another hour or three, it’s just...

Post-run Steve is kind of Bucky’s jam. 

He’s sweaty, and loose-limbed, and hopped up on exercise endorphins which, more often than not, make him inexplicably horny and give him the closest approximation of a bad boy complex that someone with Steve’s demeanor could possibly get. 

Post-run Steve is the only good thing about being awake at this god forsaken hour. 

The sunrise, and the stillness, and the smell of fresh dew can get fucked, but Bucky will carpe the hell out of a diem for some Post-run Steve.

He slips quietly into the bathroom, and is immediately grateful for the time he spent descaling the shower door yesterday when he’s met with an unimpeded view of Steve’s glorious back. What goddamn right an architect has looking like that, Bucky has no idea, but you wanna talk about some aesthetically pleasing angles?

Steve’s got one hand braced against the wall, head dipped to draw out the line of his back. His skin’s a little flushed; water channeling in fast-flowing rivulets between the soft ridges and swells of his drawn-taut muscles, and he’s breathing those quiet grunts of the recently-exerted. 

He’s a living, breathing thirst-trap, and the knowledge that he’d only blush and change the subject if Bucky told him so just makes it a thousand times better. 

Bucky pushes his soft flannel sleep pants off his hips and lets them fall to the floor, sending up another silent salute to Last-Night Bucky for going commando, and steps forward to pull open the shower door.

...Later on, when Bucky is reflecting on it all, he’ll blame the early hour and his pre-caffeinated state for the fact that he didn’t realise. The soft noises falling from Steve’s lips, the very particular bunch and flex of very particular muscles…

Any other time of day, Bucky would have known straight away. 

Any other time of day, and Bucky wouldn’t have even needed to be in the same room - he could be at the bodega down the street, and his nipples would inexplicably harden at the pluck of Steve’s distant arousal on the cosmic spiderweb. 

But as it happens in the moment, it’s not until Steve’s head is falling back on a low moan that Bucky realizes exactly what it is he’s walked in on. 

“Oh, shit...”

It’s off his tongue before he can reel it back in, and Steve almost jumps out of his skin. 

His head whips around, and for the briefest flicker of a moment, he looks shocked and uncertain and embarrassed as all hell. 

But this right here is no weekday-afternoon Steve. This is not the blushing, bumbling hunk of love meee that occupies the corporeal form of Steve Rogers 95% of the time. 

No, this is Post-run Steve, and it’s all of about two seconds before he’s schooling his features into something more akin to vaguely-smirking indifference; turning until he’s facing Bucky front on, and settling his weight back against the shower wall.

“Babe, I’m sorry, I didn’t--” Bucky begins, as close to apologetic as one can really be about seeing their significant other in a compromising yet Very Sexy position. But the words dry up on his lips as Steve lifts a finger to his own in the universal gesture of ‘shush.’   

He watches, rapt, as Steve first reaches over to the tap and shuts off the water, and then takes up the bottle of Bucky’s conditioner, squirting some into his hand before wrapping it back around his cock. 

And then that jacked-up idiot, that neuro-chemical flooded pseudo bad bitch, looks Bucky dead in the eye...and goes right back to jerking off. 

He’s putting on a goddamn show with it too - pulling at his cock, long and slow and tight; dropping his head back against the wall and letting his moans ricochet shamelessly off the tile. The sound of his fist working over his dick is lewd as hell, so much more audible for the fact that there’s no rush of running water to mask it anymore, and Bucky wonders briefly if he ever actually woke up at all, if this isn’t just all a very believable wet dream. 

It certainly contains all the usual elements - intense eye contact; a big fat dick getting rubbed off by a beefy, naked, wet dude (bonus that it’s Bucky’s actual, real-life boyfriend); the kinds of sounds you usually only hear in porn…

For all Bucky knows, he could still be tucked up in bed asleep, and not standing here naked and painfully erect in this steamed up bathroom, watching his boyfriend jack it like he’s starring in some locker-room porno.

“You need somethin’, or you just come in here to watch?” Steve drawls, arching a brow at him, and yeah  - there’s a  lot of things Bucky needs all of a sudden.

He rakes an assessing gaze over Steve’s body, stepping into the shower and pressing his palms to the swell of Steve’s pecs.

“I just wanted to make sure your run went okay,” he shrugs, “no pulled tendons, shin splints...aching muscles…that kinda thing.” 

He squeezes at Steve’s shoulders and his biceps and his tiny waist; threads his hands up through Steve’s hair and slots a thigh between Steve’s to push their hips together. 

Steve’s skin is so warm, and slippery, and he smells like soap, and Bucky starts mentally calculating just how much time they have and how much energy he can feasibly expend before their respective work days start.

He’s not on stage tonight, but he is on shift for his day job at the community center, teaching a preschool ballet class at 10am, and then a seniors ballroom dancing session at midday before his contemporary classes in the afternoon. Steve’s working from home today, so hypothetically it wouldn’t matter if Bucky wore him out a little…

“Buck...” 

“Mm?” 

He rubs his whole self shamelessly against Steve, pressing in so the barbells spiked through his nipples drag across the wet expanse of Steve’s chest. He kisses Steve’s neck and his tits and his mouth, hungry and handsy and a little frantic, and Steve laughs softly against his lips as he turns them to push Bucky up against the slick tile of the shower wall.

“Your concern is deeply moving,” he deadpans, caging Bucky in with hands planted either side of his head, “but I think we need to talk about your bathroom etiquette...didn’t anybody ever teach you to knock?” 

He’s staring Bucky down with eyes lit up something wicked; his body so very nearly touching Bucky’s but not quite, and it hits Bucky all over again that his boyfriend is, physically speaking...really fucking imposing.

It’s easy to forget, when he’s being...well, Steve. Perpetually polite, kind-hearted, goofy...Bucky feels like when he looks at Steve, he sees the softness of his nature, the quiet goodness that radiates out of him. 

He sees the sensible shoes and the khaki pants, the careful artist hands and the way Steve still sometimes carries himself like the much-smaller man he claims to have once been. 

He’s Stevie, and Bucky wouldn’t have him any other way. 

But all of that also happens to be contained within a 6’2”, 200lb frame, and right now...Bucky kind of wants to suffocate under it. 

“I am so sorry, Steven,” he says, though it’s entirely negated by the raging hard on he’s sporting and the giddy, gratuitous manner in which he’s still feeling Steve up. 

He skates his fingertips down the rippled plain of Steve’s stomach, down to the trail of dusky blond hair leading south from his belly button, but Steve catches his hands and pins them up above his head. 

“I’m sure you are,” Steve hums, “but I don’t think you appreciate the gravity of the situation here. See, you caught me in a very private moment, one that I was very much enjoying, and now I’m all thrown off. You got me feelin’ shy.” 

...There’s some very compelling evidence to the contrary rubbing up against Bucky’s hip right now, but that’s beside the point. Steve’s teeth are scraping a line all the way down Bucky’s neck to nip at the ice fractals tattooed across his shoulder, and Bucky’s more than willing to play along.

“However can I make it up to you?” 

He arches into the press of Steve’s body, the hard line of Steve’s cock nestled into the crease of his hip.

If Steve shifted just slightly, he’d be rubbing up against Bucky’s dick. 

It’s not an accident that Steve isn’t making that shift. 

“You really want to?” Steve kisses the question against his skin, making his way slowly back up to Bucky’s mouth, and Bucky nods vehemently.

He’s already wetting his lips in preparation for all the ‘making up’ they’re about to do; signalling his knees to get ready to bend and pulling at Steve’s grip on his wrists, but Steve doesn’t release him.

Instead, he pulls back just far enough to look Bucky square in the eye, and smiles entirely too sweet for the authoritative edge that rumbles into his voice. “Go back to bed, Bucky.” 

Bucky has to blink a few times as the words circulate in his ears. His expression turns from I’m about to get some D!  to  oh god I’m being denied the D in about 0.2 seconds flat.

Bed is very far away from the dick that is currently in need of reparations, he can’t achieve anything from bed.

“But—you said—I was gonna—”

“Go. back. to bed.”  Steve tightens his grip on Bucky’s wrists and leans his whole weight against him, right up in his space so his lips catch against Bucky’s as he speaks, “...and wait for me.” 

Oh. 

Oh. 

A big, stupid, ‘bout-to-get-railed grin stretches across Bucky’s face. He wriggles free of Steve’s grasp and stumbles out of the shower, stopping himself just shy of a wildly enthusiastic ‘yes sir!’

He thinks he can hear Steve’s laughter as he takes off back down the hall toward the bedroom, but it might just be his own echoing back to him. He throws himself down onto the unmade bed, still warm from when he got up not ten minutes ago, and honestly who needs to sleep in anyway? Sleeping in is for people who don’t have absolute poundcake boyfriends to screw them into the sunrise.

He should have toweled off, he realizes as his damp skin rubs against the bedding, but he cannot be blamed for life choices made before six am, and there are far more important things afoot anyway. 

Things like the sound of the shower turning back on for approximately forty-five seconds, then the muted pass of a towel being scrubbed over hair, and footsteps on the hardwood growing ever closer to the bedroom.

God, this is gonna be a good day. What  a beautiful day to be greeting the dawn, making the most of his youth, seizing everything life throws at him!

He has the good sense to snatch the lube out of the bedside drawer just as Steve walks into the room, eyeing him with amusement and hunger in equal measures. 

“You know what the problem is, with what just happened back there, Buck?” 

Steve saunters toward the bed with all the nonchalance of a man whose work day doesn’t start for another three hours. 

He wraps his sizable hands around Bucky’s ankles and yanks him down the bed a little - for no other purpose than to hear Bucky’s breath hitch at the unnecessary show of strength - and climbs up onto the mattress to straddle Bucky’s shins. 

“The problem is, I don’t like to make a spectacle of myself.” He plucks the lube from Bucky’s hand and pours some into his own, spreading it over his cock in lazy pulls. “Being the center of attention, having eyes on me...that’s more your speed.”

“Mhmm, yes, I am an attention whore,” Bucky nods, reaching grabby hands out at Steve who refuses to shift any further up his body, “and you are humble and handsome and have a big dick. Make out with me.” 

Steve tuts and shakes his head, reaching his unoccupied hand to flick at one of Bucky’s nipple piercings. 

“Oh, I don’t think you get to make requests right now. See, the worst part of you throwin’ me off back there? I was so fucking close.  So now what you get to do, James, is flip the fuck over, and let me finish what I started.” 

...Jesus, Bucky loves Post-run Steve.

He’s gonna marry Post-run Steve and have his hopped up little post-run babies, and make sure Steve never misses a single day of early morning exercise so he can bask in the glory of this magnificent bastard every goddamn day of his life.

Bucky flops over onto his front and gets his knees under himself, sticking his ass up in the air with a wiggle that’s probably a lot more comical than it is enticing. But the heat of Steve’s palms hook around the front of his thighs and pull them out from under him, sprawling him flat against the mattress.

There’s a sudden clamping of teeth on his ass cheek and the sharp swat of an open palm, and then Bucky’s being pressed firmly into the sheets by Steve’s weight settling high up on the backs of his thighs. 

“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” Steve sighs, planting his hands on the dip in Bucky’s spine, “I’m gonna use your ass to get off, and then I’m going to get back into bed, while you go make us some coffee.”

Bucky nods into the mess of blankets under his cheek, futilely trying to rock his hips up against Steve’s considerable weight. “Yes, agreed, punishment fits the cri-hi wow okay.” 

A wholly undignified sound is wrenched from Bucky’s chest as Steve skips all pretense of tease, and thrusts his slicked up cock into the crease of Bucky’s ass, rubbing off between his cheeks with a very singular purpose. 

Bucky scrabbles to grab hold of his pillow and drags it down, wedging it under his hips with as much success as can be expected when you’re being pinned by a 200lb adrenaline-testosterone cocktail. It’s enough though, to very favorably cushion the rub of his dick, and all things considered…this whole thing is working out pretty well for him.

He’s expending precisely zero effort, but the wet glide of Steve’s cock over his hole and the push of Steve’s hips rubbing him into the pillow is very much Doing It for him, and he lets his body go loose and pliant as Steve does all the work for the both of them.

And Steve is putting in work - rocking Bucky into the mattress with a fervor that knocks the breath out of him and sends the headboard careening rhythmically into the wall. 

“Y’hear that, Buck?” Steve pants, not for a second breaking his frankly devastating pace. “That’s what a fuckin’ knock sounds like.” 

“Oh my god.”   

This is exactly how every single day of Bucky’s life should begin. Naked, giddy, cocks enthusiastically rubbing up against holes, and Steve running his mouth like he won’t be turning ten shades of red about it later. 

If this is the payoff, Bucky will bust in on every single shower Steve has for the rest of his life.

“I love you,” he laughs a little breathlessly into the bedding, biting off a moan at the heat coiling low in his belly. 

It’s entirely sincere, and he says it because he means it...but if he also happens to know by now that those words are a direct hit to Steve’s prostate during sex?

That’s just a happy coincidence.

Steve makes a sound like he’s been punched, his thighs twitching and tensing where they’re clamped around Bucky’s hips. 

His breaths are coming sharp and shallow, his movements taking on a frantic edge that betrays exactly how close he is, and Bucky would ask him to slow down, except he really, really doesn’t want him to. 

“I love you, Stevie,” he says again, letting his own building climax bleed into his voice, “love you so much...come on, baby...” 

“Fuck,  Bucky, I...oh...” 

His weight falls forward over Bucky as he comes, and it’s all the shove Bucky needs to tip over the edge with him. 

He spills all over his pillow, burying a moan into the sheets and huffing under the weight of Steve’s body going lax on top of him.   

“Oh my god, Buck,” Steve groans, vaguely awed like it wasn’t his own efforts that just brought them both to sticky ruin, and Bucky reaches a hand back to swat weakly at him. 

“You said it, pal.” 

Steve nuzzles into the crook of his neck, planting breathless kisses against his skin and running his hands over every part of Bucky he can reach. 

It’s so tangible, that shift back to normalcy, back to  Steve.  It always hits Bucky square in the chest, the way he can feel Steve’s edges softening, feel that boisterous energy turn sweet and mellow in the aftermath. 

It’s kind of precious, actually, though Bucky would never phrase it like that to Steve’s face.  

He squirms beneath Steve’s weight, getting himself turned over until he’s on his back beneath him. “Good morning,” he smiles up at Steve softly, running his fingers through the still-damp tufts of his hair. 

Steve sighs happily, letting his eyes drift shut and tilting his head into Bucky’s hand. “Good morning, pervert.” 

“Hey, come on, you know I didn't do that on purpose!  ” Bucky laughs, cupping Steve’s face and kissing him all over his cheeks. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you, I’m sorry.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve rolls his eyes, though the smile on his face says Bucky’s doesn’t really have anything to be sorry about. “Guess I can forgive you this one  time.”

“You’re a gracious man.”

Bucky drags him down and kisses him right on his smile, sweet and lazy. When they pull apart, Steve’s got that dopey look on his face like he’s feeling a whole lot of something, and Bucky knows exactly what’s coming before Steve says it.

“Glad you love me, Bucky Barnes.” 

...He knew it was coming, but it still gets him every time. 

“Glad to love you, Steve Rogers.” He feels like he’s glowing a little as he leans up to peck Steve on the tip of his nose. “Now if I’m not mistaken, I owe you a cup of coffee...you’re gonna have to let me up if you want me to follow through on that.” 

“Mm, counter offer - we both go wash off, together, and then I’ll make us breakfast while you handle the coffee?” 

Bucky pretends to consider for a second before he nods, stretching his body out as Steve rolls his weight off him. 

“Agreed.” He waves a hand in the general direction of the door, shooting Steve a wink and a lopsided grin. “Lead the way, pal. I believe you are intimately familiar with where the shower is.”

[2-cute-4-school]

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐟 𝐬𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐨

pairing: Lee Donghyuck x gn!Reader 

genre: fluff, a small part of angst but all ends well ;)

word count: 2.4K words

a/n: my part of the christmas collab called ‘The Triangle That Defines Our Existence’, hosted by the lovely, amazing, incredibly talented, the sweetest human being who deserved the entire world @dearncityy (ღˇ◡ˇ)♥, thank you for allowing me to be part of this (੭ु｡╹▿╹｡)੭ु⁾⁾ ᶦ'ˡˡ ᵐᶦˢˢ ᵘ ᵃ ˡᵒᵗ ᶦᶠ ᵘ ᵈᵉᶜᶦᵈᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇˡᵒᵍ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ʷᵉ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᶦⁿᵗᵉʳᵃᶜᵗ 

my masterlist | event’s masterlist!!!!

You know how souls are connected? How soulmates are created from the stardust of the same explosion, traveling for millions of years through time and space just to end up meeting in the same coffee shop down the road over a spilled latte after living thousands of miles away for their entire lives? How oceans and mountains, galaxies and dimensions, hate and love tear them apart but this small string, thinner than a strand of hair, but stronger than an entire army brings them back together? How fate works?

Do you think snowflakes miss each other? Born from the same cloud, fluffy and blue, the interest of any curious child’s eyes and just the stretch of an arm away, almost like-

“The blue one, please!”

“Can I get the blue?”

The owner of the candy floss shop stared flabbergasted at the pair of you, hands stretched towards him with bills clutched in-between your fingers. 

“I’m sorry but it seems like there is only one left and we’re out of blue colorant.”

At the newfound information, the boy beside you turned to you abruptly, cheeks flushed and determined shiny eyes.

“I believe I was here first, so I should be the one to get it.”

“Excuse me but you believe wrong, if anything, I asked for it first.”

You both scoffed in disbelief and carried on arguing as the owner watched with apologetic eyes while a line of equally impatient children accompanied by their parents whined for their own sweet treat.

“So therefore, as I have stated in my previous point of my thesis, I-”

“Move, we’ve been waiting here for 5 minutes already-”

Your new archnemesis turned to the kid behind him who dared interrupt his essay with burning eyes which might have just melted the frozen snot peeking from the child’s nostrils.

“Shut up, you bogey-eater garden dwarf! Learn how to respect your elders! You should- Hey!”

As you could tell the child’s mother’s eyes bulging out of their sockets and the choice of words directed towards her son, you quickly shoved the money in the owner’s hands, grabbed the stick of the blue candy floss with one hand, using the other one to drag the boy away from the commotion he himself caused before he lost an ear to the mom’s fury.

“Hey! Hey, you thief! How dare you-”

“Oh shut that trap for once, better thank me for dragging you away before that mother pulled a Van Gogh on you.”

He dusted himself off once you let go as if filth has touched him and you heavily debated just slamming the entire sticky candy on top of his head, but you decided against it. You worked to hard for it just to waste it on a head that didn’t even deserve it.

“This isn’t over, I still want that candy floss.”

“Let’s just share.”

He looked like he wanted to protest but he most likely couldn’t come with a better idea so he just sighed and shrugged dismissively. You both settled down on a bench on the side of the Christmas-decorated street and didn’t waste a second to dig into the cloud of sweetness.

“So... should I ask for the name of the person I fought tooth and bone for blue candy floss?”

“You want to go back and ask that kid? I’m not sure you’ll get out alive.”

You nudged his arm with your elbow and you both broke into smiles. He turned to look at you and you met his honey filled eyes, colorful lights dancing in them and it seemed like entire galaxies were celebrating the upcoming holiday too.

“Donghyuck. Friends call me Hyuck or Haechan. So you can call me Donghyuck.”

You deadpanned, but it only made him giggle louder. His nose was even more flushed than his cheeks and you couldn’t help but admire the way the rosy pink blended in with the natural tan of his skin. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he scrunched his nose mid laugh and you could understand why universes decided to reside in him.

“I hope you choke on candy floss.”

He only laughed harder and if Christmas was a laugh, it would have been Donghyuck’s, pure and hopeful.

“But what is my knight’s in shining armor’s name?”

“It’s Y/N. So you can’t call me. Ever.”

Despite your threatening tone, his smile didn’t lose its brightness. If anything, it shone brighter, lights and colors and happiness playing along his features and you couldn’t help but think that the moles on his face created constellations with the stars in his eyes. You saw art in what others saw as incident.

Donghyuck’s eyes widened as he stared at you, an exaggerated gasp leaving his lips before he exclaimed.

“A snowflake! It’s snowing! It’s snowing on Christmas Eve!”

“What? Where?”

“It’s on your nose!”

Your eyes crossed as you tried to catch sight of the small ounce of snow that settled on the tip of your nose. Donghyuck stared smugly as you turned accusingly and pointed a finger at him.

“You’re making fun of me!”

“I’m not! It really is-”

Before he could finish his sentence, you jumped in your seat.

“Donghyuck, one landed on your nose too! It’s there! It’s really snowing!”

And sure enough, one white traveller after another found their ways down in a whirlwind, waltzing on the last steps to their final destination in the eyes of thousands of admirers.

“Now we have matching snowflakes!”

Donghyuck laughed fondly at your excited tone, watching your enraptured eyes light up like a child’s and he thought that he might have found his Polaris. Right under his nose, he had found the brightest star in his sky.

“Yeah, do you think they were competing for candy floss too?”

“Maybe they confused it with their home. Don’t you think it resembles a cloud in this lighting? Maybe they thought they have found their way back home.” You pondered for a while, before grinning. “Mine won anyway.”

“Pffft, mine must have been confused by yours. How could you confuse candy floss for a cloud?”

You just shrugged, munching on the last bit of the sweet treat.

“Oh, Y/N, how much was it? Let me pay for my half.”

You thrust your phone in his directions, cheeks flushed less from the cold and more from the embarrassment of your next words. Donghyuck watched as you fidgeted in your place, his own expectant excitement building up inside of him as he accepted your phone gingerly.

“The cost is your phone number and a promise to share candy floss again. Only if you want to of course, don’t feel obligated to-”

“Let’s confuse snowflakes again, maybe it’ll snow again. My treat.”

You both smiled so largely your cheeks hurt the entire night.

~~~~

Your snowflakes decided to travel together on that fated day so you and Donghyuck decided to take their example. You stuck together and time didn’t seem to pass in the same way it used to. A year turned into a month, a month into a week, a week into a day and this day into a second. A second spent together. A second you cherished more than entire years. The second Donghyuck decided you put the moon and stars in the sky, or rather the single sparkly star on top of his Christmas tree.

“Stick that fucking star on that branch or I swear it’s either you’re taking a dive into the floor or my back will crack so loud your grandkids feel shivers down their own spine!”

“I’m obviously trying, Donghyuck! The branch is too thick, it won’t fit-”

“That’s what she said- oof!”

You made sure to dig your heel into his ribs hard enough to shut him up.

“Don’t you dare taint this holy evening with your bull!”

He grumbled under his breath but didn’t retort anything and struggled obediently to hold you up for long enough for you to put the finishing touch to his, no, both of yours’ Christmas tree: a silver, shining star.

“I told you it would be easier if we simply used a ladder, but nooo.”

“Where is the romance in that?”

“And where is the romance in me cracking your back and possibly falling on top of this tree?”

Your boyfriend groaned at your smart reply, tapping your thigh impatiently.

“Finally! You can put me down, the asshole has saddled up!”

“Never phrase it like that again please.”

After you were lowered, you both stepped back to admire the piece of art that stole- Donghyuck gasped softly once he took a look at the clock hung on the wall. Four hours?! How could that be possible, it only felt like... a second.

He turned to watch you instead of the overflowing tree, ornated in tinsel and lights. You glowed so much more than any view in this world in Donghyuck’s eyes. His Polaris indeed. No matter how lost he would ever be in life, tangled in his own mind, struggling against his own, one look at his brightest star and he’d find his way back to you through the darkest of nights. He deemed it only right for his guiding star to hang the star on top of your tree as if you hung it in a once starless night once he turned off the lights in the room.

Donghyuck thought that maybe he could live in an eternity in a single day with you.

“Ah, it snowed so much outside. It looks so fluffy, I have to!”

“What, no Y’N, wait!”

Before Donghyuck could even react, you sprung away from him, clumsily slipping on some shoes and running outside in only your sleepwear. Your boyfriend ran after you, gathering your jacket before joining you in the snow. He found you a few steps away from the entrance, crouched before a mound of fresh snow, digging your already reddening hands into it and spreading it around to form drawings and words. He sighed as he laid your jacket over your shoulders and crouched beside you.

“Don’t be so reckless, you’ll catch a cold like this.”

“Look who’s talking” you shot him a pointed look “where’s your own jacket if you’re so worried about colds?”

He spluttered for a moment, realising he forgot his own jacket in his rush to make sure you wouldn’t suffer too much because of the cold.

“I need no jacket. Jackets are for weaklings.”

You rolled your eyes, focusing back on the snow gathered in your hands. 

“I feel bad for the snowflakes. They left their home, maybe they were even separated from their loved ones on the way down here. I bet they miss them. But they are trapped here once they landed. If only they would have the chance to fly for a little longer and search for them.”

You threw it in front of you, watching as it spread all around you, floating elegantly in a dance of their own before regaining their place on the spotless white dessert. Donghyuck watched you with curious eyes.

“I feel so bad for them I almost want to take them into my own home and care for them and love them-”

“But they’d melt.”

“Huh?”

“The snowflakes would melt. It’s not the right kind of home for them. Love isn’t always what they need, sometimes it consumes you little by little, it reduces you to nothing.”

“I’d rather melt into nothingness if it meant I felt even a second of pure love.”

‘That’s Y/N for you indeed’ Donghyuck could only shake his head as a small, content smile settled on his face. He scooped a little bit of snow into his cupped palms and brought it close to his lips. You shrieked.

“Don’t eat it! I get it, I won’t bring snow into the house!’“

He laughed so joyfully the shy moon cowered behind clouds at his beauty.

“I’m not planning on eating it, dumbass.”

“Then?”

“I’m wishing upon snowflakes?”

“Maybe we should head inside, maybe you have a fever.”

“Shut up, I’m not delusional. There are no dandelions during winter and snowflakes are our thing anyway, right? So let’s wish upon a snowflake instead of dandelions this time.”

He didn’t wait for you to react before he blew harshly into his palms, sending the small pile of snow flying out of his hands. Donghyuck could only think of a single thing while watching the swirl of the freed snow dancing in the dimly lit street in front of the house.

I wish for you to be my north star, to keep guiding me home to you.

~~~~

But sometimes it gets foggy. And sometimes you lose your way.

Donghyuck stared at his own reflection in the silver globe. He looked anything but Christmas-y. There was no twinkle in his eye, dull orbs gazing back at him almost condescendingly.

He’s always been a spitfire, a follower of his own fate that he made by his own hands. He swore to never let a flame touch, but promises are meant to be broken and his love, too burning hot, consumed you just like warmth consumed the snow. You slipped through his fingers just like snowflakes get separated in the harsh wind.

And Donghyuck was sure that if snowflakes could feel, they would be the most pitiful. A separation so sudden, so forceful, one that leaves you desperate to turn back time even for just a second. To watch them for longer. To hold on tighter.

‘Lee Donghyuck, you dumbass’

He sighs as he lowers the globe, putting it back into the box that would soon go into the basement where it resides for most of the year. One goodbye after another. Undecorating and storing away the once lively Christmas tree felt even more melancholic than usual, because while it meant a ‘see you later’ to the brightness of his house, he might have lost his chance at even saying a proper ‘please let me see you again’ to the brightness of his soul.

He looked up, catching sight of the lonely star sitting atop of the tree, the only decoration left. So far out of reach.

‘Feels so wrong to search for a stool for that after so long. Also feels wrong for me to be the one to take it off. I got too used to you.’

‘Too empty, where are your ridiculous decorations?’

‘Too blank, where are your rainbow vomit Christmas sweaters?’

‘ Too quiet, where are your late carols?’

‘...Where are you?’

Donghyuck had to shake himself out of his zoned out state, looking out the window at the lights still hung around his porch. He should remove those too. He stepped outside, being immediately enveloped by the winter winds blowing around the freshly laid out snow.

‘It snowed a lot this year. Where are your snow-angels?’

Donghyuck touched the scarf wrapped around his neck. The one he searched for for hours just to find it laid around the ‘neck’ of the snowman you both built earlier that day. Despite his scolding, he couldn’t help but think that who needs presents when his biggest blessing is smiling so purely right in front of him?

‘Are you building snowmen away from me now? Are you using someone else’s scarf now?’

His face contorted into a grimace. He grabbed two fistfuls of fresh snow, throwing them into the wind, watching them meddle amongst themselves

‘You talked all that shit about giving them a second chance to find their loved ones after a storm, to find their soulmates once again. So where are you?’

‘Why don’t you give me another chance to find you too?’

Donghyuck watched helplessly as the snow settled down once again. What if soulmates get lost forever? What if they don’t meet again? He crouched in the middle of the alley to his house. The same one you walked on and away from him.

A lonely snowflake landed on his hand, as if to prove Donghyuck a point. He couldn’t help but chuckle sarcastically, pain lacing his usually bright tone.

‘Are you feeling it too, buddy? Are you alone too?’

‘How about you, my love? Where are you, Y/N?’

Another snowflake slowly descended right by the one already settled on his hand. Destined together, by the hands of fate, by each other’s hand, by time itself. 

‘Ah, found your soulmate, have you?’

‘Where has mine gone?’

A crunch resonated in Donghyuck’s ears, right in front of him. So close.

“Sorry for the wait.”

His head snapped up. Did heartbreak cause illusions? Did desperation cause hearings? No, while his brain took its time comprehending, his heart knew instantly. It recognized its owner.

“It got confused and a little scared on the way here, but it finally found its way back home.”

You were home. At home in his arms, nestled in his embrace, face buried in his chest, right above his erratic heartbeat. 

“You know, late comers have to pay for the wasted time.”

“Oh, is that so? How much is it?”

“Just a lifetime spent together.”

Donghyuck’s eyes sparkled again.

~~~~ 

You still haven’t decided what takes the crown as the best replica of the fluffy clouds traveling lazily across the sky. You stick another piece of baby blue cotton candy in your own mouth while internally debating between the two choices. The floss of sweetness you had the luxury to eat at the moment or-

A whine interrupted you. Your head snapped to the side just to meet a pair of puppy eyes staring back at you, waiting for acknowledgement.

“Hyuckie too~”

“Maybe Hyuckie should have bought his own then.”

Despite your seemingly annoyed retort and the roll of your eyes, you still offered him a piece of cotton candy, one that he didn’t hesitate to snatch right from your hand the moment it was presented in front of his lips.

You stared adoringly at your boyfriend as he munched satisfied on the sweet and you could barely suppress the need to run your fingers through his soft locks, bury your hand into your own warm, lavender-smelling cloud.

“I’m getting flashbacks from our first meeting.”

You snapped out of your haze, redirecting your attention to Donghyuck’s words.

“Huh?”

“It’s the same bench. When you stole my cotton candy and then offered to share it with me oh so kindly-”

“I paid for it! And saved you too for the sake of it!”

“And then trapped me with you in order to repay you.”

You slapped his arm, watching fondly as he dissolved in a fit of giggles. You both knew he didn’t mean it, he spent countless hours thanking the world and you for bringing you two together and allowing him happiness. You sighed a bit melancholic, only just realising that he was right, this was the same bench you ate your first candy floss together. Same place, same people, same surroundings, different circumstances.

“It feels like an eternity ago.”

“And at the same times it feels like only yesterday.”

A beat of silence passed before Donghyuck spoke again, quieter, more careful, almost timidly.

“I’m scared too sometimes.”

You leaned into him, nuzzling your cheek against his shoulder. He brought the hand that wasn’t holding your waist already up to your face, cupping your cheek delicately and caressing it with his thumb. His snowflake finally had a soulmate.

“Why?”

He bumped his nose against yours, leaning his forehead against yours. He had you, under his fingertips, breaths mingled, hearts beating together.

“What if it’s over before we realise?”

You hummed softly, your lips brushing against his as you murmured your next words, a secret shared between lovers

“Doesn’t matter. Time is nothing with you, an irrelevant notion meant to hurry us when all we want to do is linger a second more. For you and me, there’s no end and no beginning.”

And sure enough, here you were. Two snowflakes, vulnerable and in passing, sharing a cloud and a timeless bond.

[surrealsunday]

A NYE Mood Tattoo Not-So-Snippet...

NOTES: This is Explicit. Hear that? EXPLICIT. You’ve been warned. 

Sorry this is a little late, friends (or a little late for Canadians, VERY late for Europeans). It was supposed to be a snippet. But I think I blacked out and now it’s over 11k. So... er... Happy New Year 😂!!! Hope you enjoy. 

* * * *

Eliott turns the corner in the hospital to a not unfamiliar sight, but a welcome one all the same. Idriss and Daphne stand facing one another. Daphne has her hands on her hips, the look on her face so fierce she might look intimidating if not for what she had called her ‘New Years Eve scrubs’, pink decorated with splashes of colour like fireworks. Even in profile, Eliott can read the amusement mixed with what is likely genuine irritation, written across Idriss’s face.

And then there’s Lucas.

He stands to the side and between then, with an expression of such exasperation, Eliott can’t help the way his own face immediately breaks into a smile at the sight.

He stops before reaching the trio, leaning his shoulder against the wall as he watches. None of them have noticed him, too caught in their current squabble.

“I wasn’t the one who administered it, goldilocks,” Idriss says through gritted teeth. “I wasn’t even on shift.”

“But you followed up, muscles,” she argues. “You should have seen the error.”

“Oh right,” Idriss scoffs. “With all our free time.”

“It doesn’t require free time! It’s our job!”

“Jesus Christ, shut up!” Lucas interrupts, a hand moving to press against his forehead, before he rakes it back through his hair, his frustration clear. He seems to think better of his tone, however, when both Daphne and Idriss direct their ire his direction. “I’m just saying, I don’t care.” His voice has softened infinitesimally but it has maintained its hardened authority. “Fix it. I’ll talk to Dr. Faure. And you two better back me up after I do.”

Idriss and Daphne both cross their arms against their chests as they nod in perfect synchronicity, looking a lot like children on the received end of a scolding, who desperately want to talk back, but realize the consequences of doing so are not worth the impulse. Eliott very nearly laughs, biting his lip around his smile as he watches the scene unfold. 

It still amazes him the way Lucas can look like he’s towering over others, even when – in Idriss’s case at least – they should be the one’s doing the towering. But there’s something so powerful about the way Lucas stands, the way he speaks, and the no-nonsense way he demands everyone else keep up because he won’t be waiting on him. There’s no question Idriss and Daphne feel the same, though Eliott doubts their reactions involve a sudden and desperate desire to pull Lucas into the nearest on-call room.

“What?” Lucas asks with eyebrows raised when Idriss and Daphne continue to stand staring at him. “You waiting to be dismissed? Go.”

Daphne huffs, and with an impressive flip of her ponytail, stomps off. Idriss pauses before he takes his own leave.

“You’re a prick,” he says. Despite his words there’s a small smile on his face when he looks at Lucas. Eliott knows that feeling – loving Lucas for his prick-ish ways as much as they piss you off. “But for what it’s worth, I’m sorry for the screw-up.”

Lucas nods. “It’s not your fault anymore than it’s mine. But we’re the one’s picking up the pieces so… just sort it, alright?” Lucas doesn’t look particularly forgiving, but his words are measured and more agreeable than Eliott would have expected, if a little exhausted. But then… it’s been a very long week.

Working straight through Christmas to the eve of the New Year has taken its toll and Eliott knows just how much of himself Lucas gives every shift. Eliott is no different, of course, but Lucas’s approach to work takes an emotional level of control Eliott will never quite understand, nor master. Something Eliott has come to realize since being with Lucas, is that the restraint Lucas uses while at work – adopting a professional veil that allows for little emotional expression outside of when he’s with the kids in the cancer ward – emotionally and physically exhausts him in a way Eliott hasn’t experienced – not like that. But despite Eliott’s protests that Lucas let himself go – relax on occasion – his boyfriend is nothing if not stubborn.

It’s alright though. It just means Eliott gets the most excellent pleasure of helping him relax, within hospital walls and outside of them. Of course, Eliott takes this honour quite seriously, and is happy to do so at every possible opportunity.

Though… Eliott considers the past week with a frown… there hasn’t been a lot of relaxing as of late. Exhaustion has won out even over everything else, including Eliott and Lucas’s fairly insatiable appetites for one another. The most they’ve managed over the past week is to wrap arms around one another as they’ve collapsed into bed together. It’s been nice. Certainly nothing Eliott would complain about. But the prospect of having the next two days off has his blood singing with the possibility of more.

Eliott lets his gaze glide across Lucas’s profile as his boyfriend turns with Idriss, saying a few more words and watching their friend disappear down the hall. His eyes catch on the side of Lucas’s neck where it meets his shoulder and a tendon strains against skin. Eliott wants to press his lips there, sink his teeth in and suck until the skin blooms with a bruise. Lucas will complain, tell Eliott he’s an asshole and leaving marks is ‘so highschool’. But then Eliott will catch him in the bathroom, staring at his own reflection as he presses two fingers down on the bruise and shivers.

Fuck.

Eliott wants him.

Lucas turns back towards the nurse’s station, depositing the paperwork he holds onto the surface and leaning over to leave a note. The line of his jaw is sharp. He’s clearly still irritated, his authoritative mask still in place. It slips the moment he turns, and his eyes finally catch Eliott’s. His formally hardened expression softens instantly, and he smiles. Eliott’s smile mirrors Lucas’s own and he presses off of the wall and approaches as Lucas does the same.

“So, you just stood there and watched as I dealt with those two?” Lucas says the moment they stop in front of one another. He’s cocked an eyebrow, but paired with the sweet smile on his face, the effect only makes him look like the sort of adorable troublemaker you want to smother in kisses… or, maybe that’s just Eliott.

Eliott raises an eyebrow to match Lucas’s in challenge. “You’d rather I’d have stepped in to rescue you?” Lucas snorts but doesn’t answer, both of them knowing Eliott’s idea of a rescue would be anything but. “Besides,” he adds, letting his eyes drag down Lucas’s body before they travel back up again to meet his eyes. “I like watching you.” Eliott knows he’s not imagining the way Lucas’s cheeks have taken on a sudden, rosy tinge.

Lucas’s eyes skitter away as he scoffs. “Perv.”

Eliott laughs. “Hey, I meant that in a purely innocent way. Just appreciating how hot and in-charge you are. In a strictly professional sense of course.”

“Mmhmm,” Lucas hums as he looks back to him, clearly not believing a word Eliott says. “What are you still doing here, anyways? Thought you were gonna go home to check on Daisy before dinner.”

Eliott nods, glancing towards the clock hanging above the nurse’s station. Shift should have ended almost an hour ago.

“Got caught up,” he admits, looking back to Lucas. “You too?”

Lucas nods. “Bit of a screw-up. Gotta go find Faure. You go home and check on Daisy. We can meet at dinner.”

Eliott eyes him suspiciously. “What about your clothes?” On a normal day, Lucas could get away with casual wear for a dinner with friends, but a New Years Eve celebration demands a different level of formality.

“Brought ‘em with me,” Lucas says with a shrug. “I’ll get ready here.”

Eliott takes in Lucas’s overly casual disposition. “This isn’t some elaborate plan to be late to dinner, is it?”

Lucas rolls his eyes and Eliott can hear the sarcasm in his voice before he even speaks. “Why would I ever want to be late to dinner with your ex?”

Eliott sighs, smiling despite himself as he reaches to pull Lucas closer by the front of his scrubs – a move Lucas allows likely only because the surrounding hallways appear to be deserted. “Anna was never my girlfriend,” he says unnecessarily. Lucas knows this so course. “And it’s not like it’s just dinner with her. Yann will be there,” he reminds Lucas, though it once again feels a bit unnecessary – not like they haven’t already discussed this dinner at painful length. “Idriss and Manon too.”

Lucas doesn’t look comforted by this at all, though Eliott didn’t expect him to. “Idriss won’t even get there until later.” A result of Idriss working a longer and less convenient shift than them. “It’s a double date and you know it.” His lower lip juts out just enough to hint at the pout he would have committed to if not for their current work setting.

“Yeah,” Eliott agrees with a shameless shrug. That had been the point of course. But he and Yann had agreed to somewhat soften the potential Lucas-shaped reaction to such a suggestion, by expanding the guest list to include the other couple. “And it’s going to be fun.”

Lucas dips his head and steps closer, curling fingers into the front of Eliott’s scrubs and looking up through his lashes. Eliott’s mouth drops open, surprised by the sudden change in mood from his boyfriend, but far too enraptured to question it. “More fun than staying home?” Lucas bites his lower lip, letting it pop from his mouth shiny and wet. “Could stay in bed,” Lucas continues, his voice soft and suggestive. “Just me and you. Naked.” He blinks slowly, his eyes wide and deep blue. “I could ride you. Ring in the new year with you inside me.”

Eliott shudders, squeezing his eyes. It does nothing to stop the flood of images filling his brain. He slips his hands down to Lucas’s waist, squeezing as he opens his eyes and calls on every measure of self-control he’d normally allow to desert him when faced with such a suggestion. “You are…” He stares at Lucas’s guileless face – a façade he’s perfected, “an unbelievable brat. And we’re going to dinner.”

Lucas huffs, shoving Eliott away from him and crossing his arms across his chest with his face turned away. “You used to be easier for me.”

Eliott laughs and it comes out as a low rumble, the air between them so heady with want, he’s beginning to question his own decisions now too. “You have no idea how easy I am for you, baby.”

Lucas’s eyes track back to him and rest for a moment. “You better make good on that later.” It should be a threat. Instead, it sounds only like an invitation.

Eliott nods. “I will.” It’s a guarantee and they both know it.

“Fine.” Lucas’s arms fall back to his sides. “I need to get going. I’ll see you at the restaurant then.”

Eliott nods. “See you there.” He doesn’t make a move to leave.

Lucas stares at him for a moment before he turns and begins making his way down the hall.

“Dr. Lallemant,” Eliott calls after him, smile already growing on his face.

Lucas stops and glances back curiously. “What?”

“It’s red. Definitely red.”

Lucas’s eyebrows scrunch together in confusion before his eyes clear with understanding and he glances down at his arm, his tattoo half exposed by the way he’s pulled up the sleeves of his lab coat. When he looks back up it’s with his middle finger raised. Eliott laughs, watching as Lucas spins back around and rushes down the hall.  

In all honesty, Eliott isn’t sure how they’re supposed to make it through a dinner with friends, and the party at Alex, Emma, and Lucille’s that is to follow, without jumping one another. The anticipation feels tangible in the air, licking at his skin, both hot and cold. He can practically see the flames form, blue at their core, red as they lick at his skin. One thing is for certain, if history has taught Eliott anything… Lucas is worth the wait.

* * * *

“And how’s my baby?” Eliott asks before rethinking his choice of words. “Don’t tell Lucas I call you that when he’s not around. He’s the jealous type.”

Eliott smiles down at the furry face of Daphne’s pet bunny. Eliott and Lucas had agreed to care for her over the next four days as Daphne and Basile were going away following Daphne’s shift at the hospital. Eliott and Lucas had been pondering getting a pet for a while but being as busy as they were at the hospital had decided to put it off until they knew they could devote themselves a little better to the undertaking. Knowing how much they both missed having pets around, however, Daphne had given them a chance to take care of Daisy while she was away. ‘A pet-parent test run’ she’d called it and they’d been more than eager to accept. And so, Daisy was theirs – at least for the next four days.

Eliott pulls her from her cage, giving her the requisite snuggle and kisses before he lets her down on the floor to explore and goes about cleaning her cage, providing some fresh water and food, before cutting up a couple radishes and strips of bell pepper to leave her as a treat for later. Maybe they spoil her a little. Eliott feels confident Daphne won’t mind, and Lucas and Eliott had both agreed that as Daisy’s uncles it was their job to overly indulge her.

Eliott spends a little too much time playing with Daisy and is forced to rush through his shower, changing quickly into a simple maroon button up shirt, and black slacks. He’s just pulled his coat on and is scrutinizing his artfully tousled hair in the mirror by the door when his phone buzzes in his pocket. Eliott smiles when he sees Lucas’s name on the screen.

He picks up. “Hey baby, I was –”

“Where are you?!!”

Eliott’s eyebrows rise, surprised by the ferocity of Lucas’s tone. He quickly glances towards the clock on the stove in the kitchen. There’s a good five minutes until their dinner reservation and the restaurant is right between their apartment and Eliott’s old one. They’d specifically planned it that way. At this pace, he’d likely have ended up being five or so minutes late but… the point is, he’s not late yet.

“I’m… on my way.” It suddenly seems in the best interest of his desire to have sex with Lucas again at some point in the future that he not tell Lucas he hasn’t left yet. He rushes to collect his keys as he speaks. “Why?”

“Why?! Because I’m here you asshole, and so is SHE.”

Never in his wildest dreams did Eliott expect Lucas would be early to dinner. “Oh.”

“Oh? Oh?! That’s what you have to say? I swear to –”

“Wait,” Eliott interrupts as he locks their door, hurrying down the building’s hallway, “you’re calling me with Anna right there?”

“She went to the bathroom,” Lucas huffs. “Probably ‘cause she knows this is fucking awkward too and that our boyfriends suck.”

“Yann isn’t there?” Eliott asks, knowing immediately this was a stupid question to ask.

“If he was here, would I be calling you?! He’s late too, the dickhead.”

Eliott decides against pointing out he’s not actually late – not for another two minutes. “Well, I’m on my way. I’ll be there soon.”

“And what am I supposed to do ‘til then?!”

Eliott holds his breath for a moment so as not to laugh. “Talk to her maybe? Make conversation.”

Lucas is quiet for a moment. “God, I hate you.”

Eliott grins, pushing out of the front door of their building and making his way to the street. “You don’t.”

“She’s coming back. I have to go.”

“Love you, baby,” Eliott rushes to say before Lucas hangs up. “Please don’t kill one another before Yann and I get there.” Lucas hangs up.

Eliott tucks his phone back into his pocket, picking up his pace to a gentle jog.

It’s not Anna he has to worry about – not Lucas either really. That’s the ridiculous part of Lucas’s protests when it comes to spending any time with Anna. Eliott is almost positive Lucas actually likes her. It makes sense really. They’re both funny, smart, witty people, able to trade barbs and jokes with the sort of seamless back and forth that’s more familiar in a scripted movie than real life. And Eliott is positive Lucas harbors a grudging amount of respect for the way Anna refuses to back down when faced with any misplaced animosity directed her way in the form of one blue-eyed boyfriend. But while Lucas and Anna’s tentative foray into friendly acquaintance has been in process for months, they’ve never been forced to test their precarious comradery while alone. This was admittedly not a contingency he and Yann had considered. Eliott slows his pace enough to pull out his phone and text Yann.

You almost at the restaurant?

Yann responds immediately. Had to drop something by my mom’s. Running a bit late

Eliott sighs unhappily, texting back. Same. He adds a few alarm bell emojis for good measure.

Yann texts back a series of question marks.

Lucas and Anna are there. ALONE. Eliott stares at his phone as he watches the typing bubble appear on Yann’s end.

Oh fuck

Eliott snorts. Please hurry. And pray he doesn’t murder me too

On my way

* * * *

When Eliott rushes into the restaurant, harried, perhaps a little sweaty, and eight minutes late, it’s to a sight he didn’t foresee. While he hadn’t actually expected Lucas and Anna to be in the midst of an all-out brawl, the picture before him seems just as impossible.

Anna and Lucas are sat across from one another at a table for six – not just sat across from one another but leaning towards one another. They’ve both got their forearms pressed to the table as they speak, heads bent forward and together in body language that would suggest… well, a date, if Eliott didn’t know better. Anna is smiling as she speaks, waving a hand in gesture through the air as Lucas listens. And even more shockingly, there’s a slight smile on Lucas’s face, begrudging maybe, but present all the same. He’s nodding as Eliott approaches.

Anna cuts herself off as she sees Eliott. “Oh, well, look who decided to show.”

Eliott smiles with a bashful shrug. “I’m not the only one who’s late.” He nods towards the empty chair beside Anna.

“Yeah,” Anna agrees. “But my boyfriend warned me he’d be late. What about you?” She raises her eyebrow like she knows the answer. She likely does.

“I didn’t think I’d be late,” Eliott says, adding a bit of a pout in fruitless hope of garnering some sympathy. He slips off his coat and folds it across the back of his chair. Taking the seat next to Lucas, he directs pitiful eyes his boyfriend’s way. “I planned to be on time.”

Lucas snorts, looking back to Anna. “Probably convinced himself Daisy didn’t want him to leave and spent an extra ten minutes cuddling her. That or he lost track of time doing his hair.” Eliott cannot admit that Lucas is right.

Anna laughs. “That sounds likely. Always was too nice and pretty for his own good.” Eliott winces, looking to Lucas in preparation for his boyfriend’s irritation with Anna for acknowledging any positive attributes in Eliott. But Lucas is… laughing? Eliott stares agape as his boyfriend speaks, his voice relaxed and amused.

“It’s a deadly combo really, but I guess you know. Yann’s so nice sometimes it actually pisses me off.”

“Oh lord, tell me about it,” Anna expels in a dramatic breath. “We’re walking the other day,” she leans forward as she begins her story and Lucas mirrors her position, “and he sees this old lady struggling with her grocery bags –”

“Oh god,” Lucas groans as though he’s already guessed where this story is going.

Anna nods in agreement with the unspoken assumption. “He insists on helping her. Not just organize her bags – oh no, no – we have to walk her home. The lady lived, like, three blocks in the opposite direction we were going.”

Lucas laughs. “Shit. That sounds just like him.”

Eliott doesn’t understand why they’re sharing this anecdote as though it were a bad thing. “But that’s nice,” he protests with a frown. “What if she couldn’t have made it on her own?”

Lucas looks to him with a dramatic roll of his eyes, glancing back at Anna. “So now you know I literally feel your pain.”

Anna giggles. “For real. And it’s not like I wanted the lady to struggle or something. I would have helped her get organized and sent her on her merry way.”

“Totally practical,” Lucas agrees with a resolute nod.

“And we’re not at the beginning of dating,” Anna continues. “Like the kid doesn’t need to impress me, anymore. Believe me, I’m impressed.” She adds a suggestive raise of her eyebrows and Lucas laughs. “Nah, he just does this stuff out of the goodness of his heart.” She says it as though this is a miraculous – and perhaps ridiculous – quality for a man to possess.

“A freak of nature,” Lucas agrees with a shake of his head. “Should’a seen teen-me trying to get over his ass when he insisted on being such a nice guy.”

“The nerve,” Anna laughs. “He could have at least been gay if he was going to insist on being nice to you.”

“All I’m saying,” Lucas agrees with a laugh of his own.

Eliott’s gaze swings between them both, incredulous. “You told Anna you crushed on Yann?” He and Lucas have barely even discussed that. Though perhaps that’s due to Eliott’s desire to forget entirely that Lucas has ever been attracted to other men – celebrities they are unlikely to ever meet being the only exception.

Lucas glances at him quickly with a shrug, before directing his attention back to Anna. “I ever tell you about the time we were in the locker room and he changed extra slow so I could have a look?” Eliott frowns.

“Shut up!” Anna laughs. “He would.”

Eliott watches as Lucas goes about retelling the story to Anna’s delight. He should be glad they’re getting along. And he is – don’t get him wrong, he is. It’s all he and Yann have wanted. But there’s a niggling feeling like disappointment sitting in his gut too, and Eliott can’t totally explain it. Or perhaps he can. He knows what it is. It just feels too ridiculous to acknowledge out loud – even if ‘out loud’ means ‘inside the privacy of his own mind’.

It’s only that… he likes the way Lucas gets all huffy and possessive when Anna’s name comes up. And no, Eliott doesn’t want a relationship of mistrust and jealousy. But he and Lucas aren’t like that. Not normally. They love one another. They trust in their relationship and one another. But… well… sometimes it’s fun to want one another so badly, they can’t help but behave like the occasional jealous moron when it comes to others. And sometimes it’s even more fun to work out that pent up frustration in other – less public-restaurant appropriate – ways.

And yes, Eliott will agree, he’s definitely an idiot. He needs no convincing where that is concerned.

He sighs and tunes back in just as Lucas is saying, “Fuck. A whole four minutes. Consider yourself lucky.”

Eliott narrows his eyes suspiciously. “What are you talking about?”

Lucas looks over to him, his eyes reflecting challenge. “You’re sitting right here. Shouldn’t you know?”

“He was ignoring us,” Anna jumps in to comment. “We should probably be insulted.”

“Yeah,” Lucas agrees with a smile as he continues to look at Eliott. “But he probably just got lost in imagining me naked. It happens.”

Eliott is torn between being insulted and, well… actually picturing Lucas naked. It’s not his fault! Lucas put the thought right there. “You don’t need to speak of me in third person when I’m literally right here.”

Lucas grins, bringing a hand up to brushing fingers along the shell of Eliott’s ear. “Are you though, baby?” Baby. Lucas so rarely uses that term of endearment, it still hits Eliott like a ton of bricks every time he does. He’s thankfully saved in having to respond by Yann’s appearance.

“There’s my man,” Anna squeals when she sees him, standing up as he approaches the table.

Yann’s eyes widen at the sight of her. He looks at her as though they haven’t been seriously committed to one another for over five months now. It’s incredibly sweet. “Damn,” Yann crows, reaching around Anna’s back to pull her closer as he kisses her in greeting. “You sure you’re with the right guy?”

“How’s that?” She asks with a laugh, winding her arms around his neck as she leans back with a vibrant smile.

“No way a woman this beautiful gives me the time of day,” Yann continues, moving a hand to brush against the riot of natural curls framing Anna’s face.

“Must be something pretty special about you then,” Anna banters back.

“Alright,” Lucas interrupts loudly. “That’s enough of you two being disgusting. Take a seat, Cazas.”

Yann laughs and with one more kiss pressed to Anna’s cheek, he moves to do as asked.

“At least someone got a proper hello,” Eliott grumbles beneath his breath, but admittedly, loud enough for Lucas to hear.

Lucas turns to him, one eyebrow raised. “Something to say, average?”

Eliott’s eyes narrow and he sits back in his chair with a huff that maybe wouldn’t be out of place in a primary school classroom. “No.”

“So,” Yann says, looking between Anna and Lucas, “you two are getting along then?”

Anna laughs while Lucas scoffs and answers. “You’re not supposed to just ask like that. Have I taught you nothing about how to avoid situations until they blow up in your face, Yanny boy?” Yann joins Anna in her laughter and Eliott can’t help the way his mouth twitches at the corners into the beginnings of a smile. “Now, we’re gonna have to go back to pretending to hate one another.”

“Is that what we were doing?” Anna asks, her smile bright. “Here I thought there was some authenticity to that hate.”

Lucas shrugs. “Yeah. But look where that gets me.” He directs a thumb in Eliott’s direction.

“You never hated me,” Eliott protests, forgetting he’s supposed to be pouting in the face of such fallacious slander. It’s to no avail, however, as the others are too taken with one another to give him any attention.

“Well, I can at least promise I won’t follow you around trying to dry-hump you like I’m sure he did,” Anna says with a laugh as she settles back in her seat with Yann’s arm resting around her shoulders.

“I didn’t,” Eliott says, sitting up slightly from his chair, feeling a lot like he’s talking into a void.

“We kinda skipped the dry-hump stage,” Lucas says with a smile, not even glancing at Eliott as he speaks. “Went right to getting his dick in my mouth if I’m honest.”

Anna laughs, looking quickly with a smile to Yann before she responds. “Well… same, so, I guess I can’t judge.” Lucas and Yann laugh.

“I’ll drink to that.” Lucas lifts his wine glass.

Anna does the same, clinking glasses with Lucas. “To dicks in our mouths!”

With truly impeccable timing, Manon and Idriss take that moment to appear.

“Uh,” Idriss grimaces at he looks down on them. “Did I miss when that became a toast?”

Manon laughs. “I dunno. Has a certain ring to it I’d say.” It leads to a new round of laughter that even Eliott – determined as he is to sulk – is helpless against.

They all settle at the table and into conversation, and eventually, when their waiter appears looking impressively bored, food too. It’s a truly pleasant evening, as Eliott and Yann knew it would be once Lucas and Anna finally relaxed around one another. Laughter comes easily and it really would be the perfect night out if not for the way Lucas is barely paying attention to Eliott. It’s not that Eliott needs his hand held at all times – not even that he needs Lucas’s focus on him, but he can’t help but feel a little like he’s being intentionally ignored. Lucas is all laughter and smiles for everyone but him. He’s being his most charming self, effusive, witty, and interesting, but it’s missing a dynamic Eliott hadn’t realized he’d gotten so used to. The shared smiles and the quick glances of understanding, that silent acknowledgement of one another in the form of subtle touches or lingering eye contact, the inside jokes and comments directed only at one another… it’s all just… absent. Eliott isn’t about to make a monumental ‘the world and our relationship as we know it are ending’ deal over it, but what he is going to do is mope. And loudly… or as loudly as one can without actually speaking at all.

Idriss’s hits the side of Eliott’s leg just as everyone are finishing up their main courses. He waits until Eliott glances at him before he speaks in a quiet enough voice that it’s almost lost in the riotous conversation happening across the rest of the table.

“What’s up with you pouting all meal, bro?”

Eliott’s frown deepens. “I’m not.”

Idriss’s expels a disbelieving breath. “Right.” He glances past Eliott towards Lucas before asking, “You two fight or something?”

Eliott shakes his head, sighing as he glances towards Lucas who sports a bright smile as he chats with Yann and Anna. He feels like a dick for being upset when Lucas is clearly having a great time – when that is all Eliott wanted. He’s just… a mess.

“No.” He turns back to Idriss, not bothering to school his unhappy expression. “We’re fine actually.”

Idriss’s eyebrows pull together with concern. “You wanna take a breather?” He juts his chin towards the exterior of the restaurant. “I’ll come with.”

“That’s a good idea,” Manon interrupts, having rounded from her side of the table to wrap arms around Idriss’s neck from behind. She presses a kiss to his cheek. “I was going to go freshen up in the bathroom. Maybe you should do the same, Eliott.”

He stares at her in confusion before grabbing for his napkin, horrified, and pressing it about his mouth. “Do I have something on my face?”

“Bro, I would have told you,” Idriss laughs. Eliott doesn’t actually agree with that statement. Once, Idriss had let him approach a hot guy at bar with the tail end of his shirt hanging through his open fly like a very tiny, white dick. But he generously doesn’t mention that memory – not particularly wanting to relive the humiliation himself.

“Nothing like that,” Manon says, brushing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I only meant you might feel a little better if you had a chance to splash some water on your face. That always helps me.”

Her suggestion is still incredibly odd and feels just a little out of place, but Eliott shrugs, figuring its better than continuing to sit and sulk at the table. It also occurs to him that perhaps she wants to speak to him away from the table – maybe there’s an issue with her and Idriss? – and while the last thing he wants to do is take on the worries of another couple, it would be the very least he could do considering the many ways Idriss and Manon have been there for Lucas and Eliott.

“Alright.” He stands from the table, glancing towards Lucas but his boyfriend doesn’t pay him any mind, steadfastly continuing the retelling of a story to Anna. He’s talking about a recent article he read about the removal of an enormous tapeworm from a surgical patient. He’d already excitedly told Eliott about it as they’d laid together in bed one evening reading. It’s the least dinner appropriate story Eliott can imagine. He loves that Lucas isn’t the least bit concerned by that, continuing in his graphic retelling as Anna’s face transforms with more and more disgust. It makes Eliott smile, perhaps a little sadly, as he turns to accompany Manon to the restaurant’s bathrooms.

Manon doesn’t speak as they begin walking, a serene smile on her face.

“Are you and Idriss ok?” Eliott asks, more bluntly than he ever would normally but he doesn’t quite have the energy to be anything but. And it’s not like a very short walk to the bathrooms allows for any subtly.

Manon looks to him in surprise. “Yes. We’re great. Why do you ask?”

Eliott gestures around them as they walk. “Thought you wanted to get me alone to talk shit about him maybe.”

Manon laughs lightly. “No. Nothing like that. I’d say we’re still very much in the honeymoon stage.”

Eliott smiles a little. “I’m glad.”

They pause awkwardly outside the bathrooms and she turns back to him with a mischievous smile. “I suppose it is a bit annoying that I can’t ever save leftovers. He eats them all.”

Eliott laughs. “I know. You can’t even hide them. Once I tried the back of the freezer and –”

“Me too!” She cuts him off with a laugh. “I saved the rest of this amazing chocolate cake I couldn’t finish at the restaurant. I tucked it under the frozen Brussel sprouts, and I was sure he wouldn’t find it but –”

“He did,” Eliott finishes for her. “Yeah. Been there. No delicious food is safe from Idriss.”

“He said anyone who didn’t finish dessert deserved to have their leftovers eaten,” she finishes with a snort, affection dripping from her every word.

“Eh. He might not be wrong there.” Eliott laughs as Manon swats at him.

“Well, you live with Lucas who will absolutely eat you out of house and home, so I won’t feel too sorry for myself,” she says as Eliott snorts in agreement. “Anyways, I’m going to go freshen up. You should do the same. I’m sure you’ll feel better.”

Eliott isn’t so convinced but he does as told. He pees and washes his hands, leaning against the counter as he stares at himself in the mirror. There’s no one else in the communal bathroom, and he takes a moment to feel sorry for himself. It’s silly to work up such a fuss over the loss of attention of one’s boyfriend for the finite duration of a meal, but it’s such a rare occurrence to not have Lucas’s attention, Eliott isn’t quite sure what to do with this needy feeling gnawing at his gut.

He turns the tap on for the cold water and leans down to splash it on his face, listening as the door to the bathroom opens behind him. That’s just great. Now some random person is going to know him as the weirdo who washes his face in the restaurant bathroom. Eliott quickly straightens and reaches for the stack of paper towels on the counter. He pats his face dry before he dares to look up into the mirror’s reflection to see if the newcomer has given him any notice. He stops short when he sees the face staring back.

Lucas.

Eliott turns around, reaching to throw away the paper towels before he looks back to Lucas in question.

“Need to pee?” He asks somewhat stupidly, feeling strangely insecure and maybe a little out of sorts.

“Remember the first night we met?” Lucas asks instead of answering.

Eliott’s eyebrows fly up in surprise. As if he could ever forget. “Yes. Of course.”

Lucas approaches him slowly, stopping when they’re separated by a meter of space. “You followed me into the bathroom then.” He smiles a little, looking away as he gets lots in the memory. “So fucking smooth I didn’t know what the hell to make of you.”

Eliott laughs a little, his smile widening as Lucas looks back to him. “I really wasn’t. I was seriously freaking out actually. But…” He shrugs, “felt important you thought I was smooth.”

Lucas tilts his head as he looks at Eliott, small smile decorating his lips. “Offering up a blowjob was pretty smooth.”

Eliott shrugs, unashamed and unabashed. “You can’t blame me. Look at you.”

Lucas steps closer, stopping when they’re separated only by the width of a stretched hand. “Sure I can.” He says it softly, tilting his head back as he looks at Eliott. It sounds a lot like he means something else – like kiss me should be in place of the words he’s spoken. But despite the very real need Eliott feels to meet this silent demand, he can’t quite let go of his former sulk.

“You’ve been ignoring me all night.”

Lucas doesn’t look particularly surprised by this complaint, his eyes just barely registering acknowledgement. “I have.” It sounds more like a statement than a question.

“Yes,” Eliott confirms unnecessarily. “Laughing with everyone. Talking. Being all… cute and funny. But not to me.”

Lucas’s eyebrows rise and his smile pulls into a bit of a smirk. “And you think I don’t know what you’re doing?”

Eliott frowns. “I wasn’t doing anything.”

Lucas breathes a slight laugh. “Exactly. Sitting there pouting because I wasn’t giving you any attention.”

Eliott can’t exactly argue with that. “Well… so? You’d be the same if I was ignoring you.”

“Yeah,” Lucas agrees easily with a shrug. “Probably.”

“So then why?” Eliott asks, staring at him in confusion.

Lucas licks his lips, and Eliott notices there’s a flush to his cheeks that wasn’t there previously. “I can’t look at you when I’m like this. I can’t talk to you – feel your eyes on me like this.”

Eliott’s mouth parts as he stares down at Lucas. “Like this? Like what?”

Lucas looks around them, glancing to the empty stalls before he takes hold of Eliott’s shirt, spinning them so his back is to the mirror. He reaches for the button on his own pants.

“Lucas,” Eliott warns in a hushed whisper, glancing quickly to the surrounding bathroom though he knows it’s empty, “we can’t. Anyone could come in.”

“I know.” Lucas doesn’t look at all deterred. He unzips his pants and reaches for Eliott’s hand.

Eliott is helpless to stop him, so desperate to get his hands on Lucas, every patron in the restaurant could walk in on them and Eliott would probably only shrug. Lucas doesn’t pull the hand to the front of his pants as Eliott was expecting, however, and Eliott’s eyebrows fly up in surprise as Lucas instead presses Eliott’s hand to the back of his pants, pushing it down against his heated skin.

Eliott steps closer, pressing their bodies together with a shudder as he gropes at Lucas’s ass. “Baby…”

“Lower,” Lucas directs, his breath now coming in quick pants.

Eliott does as told, knowing their time alone in the bathroom is precarious and undetermined, and having no idea what it is Lucas has planned. He slides his hand lower, fingers seeking until they reach the area on Lucas’s body he’s come to know so well – that he’s worshiped with his fingers… his tongue… his cock. Only… he freezes… this is not at all what he expected.

“Lucas…” He sounds awed which is only appropriate. His fingers prod at the hard, circular shape blocking Lucas’s hole from his prying fingers.

“Can’t look at you when I know,” Lucas pants, his words a rush of breath as Eliott’s fingers continue to feel out the butt plug Eliott now realizes Lucas has had inside him the entire evening. “Can’t talk to you, touch you, without thinking about it.”

“What?” Eliott prompts, so turned on he feels dizzy with it. He gets his fingers around the rim of the plug and tugs, watching as Lucas gasps loudly, falling forward to press hands against Eliott’s chest.

“You,” Lucas pants, looking up at Eliott with dark eyes. “You inside me. Knowing –” He chokes on a breath as Eliott’s fingers continue to prod at the plug. “Knowing I’m ready for you – stretched for you – for your cock.”

“Lu, baby –” Eliott doesn’t get a chance to finish his thought when Lucas is grabbing his forearm and pulling his arm away, removing Eliott’s hand from his pants. “But…” Eliott trails off desperately, watching with disbelieving, confused eyes as Lucas goes about refastening his pants. His dark jeans bulge a little at the front, but he looks otherwise just as put together as he had when he’d entered the bathroom.

Lucas looks back up and bites his bottom lip. Eliott needs to kiss him and is only stopped by the firm hand Lucas presses to his chest when he realizes Eliott’s intent. “We’ve got a dinner with our friends to finish,” Lucas points out. Eliott is satisfied to see his breath remains unsteady and affected. Eliott has never been less interested in socializing with the people he loves more than right fucking now. “Was your idea after all.” Lucas smirks and Eliott can’t do anything but stare at him with renewed awe.

“You’re…” He can’t even finish the thought. Lucas has done it to torture him. He’s… diabolical. The most cheeky… clever… teasing brat on the planet. Eliott loves him so goddamn much.

Lucas smiles, as smug as anything. “Now c’mon. We wait any longer they’re gonna think we’re hooking up in here.” With that he spins on his heel and makes his way to the bathroom door.

Eliott stares down at his own pants, more formal than Lucas’s and more clearly showing the shape of his erection stretching the front of the fabric. He sighs, untucking the ends of his shirt and letting them hand down his front. He’ll look a bit like a slob but better that than a horny pervert with a dick so hard it could be registered as a weapon. He buys himself an extra moment to compose himself as he washes his hands once more, but it does nothing to help the way his heart is pounding in his chest. 

Lucas is smirking as Eliott turns to him, his eyes skating down to where Eliott’s shirt hangs loose before rising to catch his eyes. He looks… proud. That’s the look reflected in the deep blue of his eyes. And all at once, Eliott feels… settled… calmer and more at peace than he has all evening.

Lucas wants him. Badly. Eliott wants him back. Just as desperately as he ever has.

All is right in their world.

* * * *

They’ve been at the party for a grand total of maybe ten minutes and Eliott is going to lose his goddamn mind. He’s convinced Lucas is being especially hot for the sole purpose of driving Eliott to the brink of total madness.

Lucas stands across the room in conversation with Alex. He’s rolled the sleeves of his shirt up and his tattoo stands out, bright and colourful in the twinkly lights hanging down the wall of the living room. Alex laughs at something Lucas has said, moving a hand to clasp the spot Eliott had admired on Lucas earlier – that space where Lucas’s neck and shoulder meet. Eliott twitches.

“Are you planning on listening at any point in this conversation or should I leave you to your staring contest with Lucas?”

Eliott looks quickly back to where not just Imane, but Mika stare at him with identical expressions of judgement. He adopts an appropriately apologetic expression. “Sorry, sorry. I was just –”

“Ignoring us in favour of staring at your boy,” Mika finishes for him. “We know.” He turns to look at Imane. “Don’t feel bad about it. This is my life at the hospital.”

“I can only imagine,” Imane laughs. “Supervising these two is a challenge I would not trade you for.”

“It’s not,” Eliott interrupts to disagree. “We’re totally professional when we’re at work.” It’s most certainly a lie, and all three of them know it.

“Mmhmm,” Mika hums with an eyebrow raised. “And last week when you both showed up to rounds, sweaty and out of breath? You expect me to believe you hadn’t just been fucking in an on-call room?” They hadn’t actually. On that particular occasional they had been rushed and nearly late because they’d spent the morning fucking at home.

Eliott smiles smugly. “We hadn’t been. Because: professional.” Mika rolls his eyes and Eliott turns his attention back to Imane. “Besides, it’s not a staring contest.”

“Oh no?” She questions, looking amused.

“No. He’d have to be looking back for it to be a staring contest.” Eliott eyes return to Lucas to see that he and Alex have been joined by Emma. She hangs off Alex looking like she’s been happily partaking in the plentiful alcoholic options the apartment has to offer.

“Well, if there’s one thing I know for absolute certain,” Imane says, her hand landing on Eliott’s shoulder as she too turns to look Lucas’s direction. “You’re not going to have to wait long for him to look back.”

* * * *

Eliott mingles among the guests, making pleasant conversation but the buzz beneath his skin doesn’t fade. It’s matched by the buzz of party guests as the clock approaches midnight.

Eliott admires Lucas in the room through his various conversations, but at one point, deep into a conversation with Imane and Sofiane, Eliott looses sight of him among the guests.

“I think the way the show blends philosophical theory with real world problems and does it in this way that’s just really, really funny is what captured my attention most,” Imane is saying. Eliott nods as he listens, subtly scanning the faces behind her for any sign of his disappearing boyfriend.

“And yet it took me forever to convince you to watch,” Sofiane says with a laugh.

“I don’t like sitcoms,” she defends with a smile. “How was I supposed to know it was brilliant?”

“Because I told you?” Sofiane asks incredulously. Eliott laughs along with Imane as his attention returns to the couple. “Admit it,” Sofiane prompts, “you only agreed to watch when Lucas told you to.”

“What can I say?” Imane says, her tone teasing. “I value his taste.”

“Careful in insulting my taste,” Sofiane challenges, pulling Imane closer with an arm wrapped around her waist. “That includes you.”

“Oh, where I’m concerned, your taste is impeccable,” she responds with a grin. “In television, I defer to Lucas.”

Eliott laughs a little. “You really shouldn’t. Lucas’s taste in TV is a strange and confusing thing.” Both Imane and Sofiane laugh as Eliott adds, “And he only watched The Good Place because of me.” Maybe he’s a little proud of that fact.

“Have you gotten to that part when –” Sofiane is immediately cut off by Imane smacking a hand against his chest. And while Sofiane’s sentence didn’t give away a thing, she seems to know where his sentence was headed anyways.

“No! You’ll spoil them like you did me! They’ve only just started the third season.”

Eliott frowns. “We’re just at the end of the second season actually. Besides I’ve seen the whole show. It’s only Lucas you could spoil.”

Imane looks to him with furrowed eyebrows. “Lucas said he’s already watched a couple episodes from season three.”

Eliott gasps, almost choking on his outraged breath. “He what?!”

Imane looks faintly apologetic while Sofiane only looks confused. “What am I missing?” He asks.

“Lucas watched without me,” Eliott answers. “I cannot believe…”

“Didn’t you just say you’ve already seen it?” Imane asks, looking like she’s one breath from a full-body laugh.

“That’s not the point!” Eliott argues. “That little brat knows it too. Oh, I’m going to…” He can’t finish his sentence. The unspeakable things he wants to do to Lucas in punishment not at all appropriate for the ears of his friends. He quickly scans the room once more and this time there are eyes looking back. Lucas. And he’s finally looking back.

He stands just at the edge of the room, leaning against the corner of the wall. He’s with no one else and he’s staring at Eliott with intent. He raises an eyebrow, biting his lower lip and turns, moving into the shadows of the hallway. Eliott just barely remembers to turn back to Imane and Sofiane, offering a pithy excuse they no doubt see right through, both of their faces reflecting barely restrained laughter.

Eliott hurries across the room, thankful that his desperate chase of Lucas is somewhat masked by how crowded the space is, filled with friends, hospital staff, and any number of faces Eliott has never seen before in his life. When he reaches the hall, he finds Lucas standing next to what had once been Eliott’s bedroom door. Eliott approaches cautiously, hyper aware of the other people crowding the hallway as they wait for access to the one bathroom.

“Took you long enough,” Lucas says and reaches for the door handle.

Eliott grabs his hand before he opens it. “Lucas,” he warns, “it’s not my room anymore.” He doesn’t know why he bothers to object. He’d follow Lucas anywhere.

Lucas smirks. “That gonna stop you?”

Eliott stares at him, eyes dropping to the smug curl of Lucas’s lips. “Fuck no.” He reaches for the doorknob himself, twisting it and pushing Lucas into the space as someone in line behind them says something about the room being off limits. Eliott ignores them, following Lucas in and locking the door behind them. He reaches for the light switch, flicking it on to illuminate the space in a dim glow.

Lucille and Alex made good on their desire to turn the room into a home gym of sorts. The equipment is lacking but it’s been clearly split between Lucille’s space, filled with a yoga mat, a number of foam blocks, exercise bands and weights, and Alex’s space, which consists of a weight bench and a selection of heavier weights.

Eliott couldn’t care less. The only thing that matters is Lucas, standing at the center of the space, his chest rising and falling with his unsteady breaths, beautiful, and looking at Eliott like this is all he’s wanted too – the both of them – only them – together. Finally.

Eliott would swear the force of their impact as they reach for one another shakes the room. He wraps Lucas in his arms as they kiss, squeezing him tightly as he presses his tongue into Lucas’s mouth, matching the frenzy of his hands moving across Lucas’s body with that of his tongue. He slides a hand down until it reaches Lucas’s ass, squeezing one round cheek before drifting further, sliding down the seam of his pants until he can press fingers against the spot he knows the plug is buried deep inside Lucas’s body.

Lucas rips his mouth away with an animalistic sound when Eliott does so, throwing his head back as he grinds his body forward and into Eliott.

“God,” Eliott groans as he watches him. “You drive me crazy.”

“Eliott, Eliott,” Lucas gasps, pushing Eliott’s hands away from him until he’s able to reach for his own clothing. “Now, now,” he chants nonsensically. “Off. Get them off.” What he means is clear enough in the way he’s ridding himself of his own clothes, almost ripping the buttons of his shirt as frantically goes about removing it.

Eliott doesn’t needs to be directed further, quickly stripping himself of every item of clothing and watching as Lucas wobbles unsteadily as he kicks off his pants. Lucas’s erection stands proud, jutting hard and red from his body. It makes Eliott feel a bit better about the state of his own dick, throbbing so badly he knows they’re in no danger of being in the room long enough to be discovered. He feels ready to burst at the simple feel of Lucas’s eyes on him.

“On the bench.”

Lucas’s eyebrows rise in question before he looks beside him to where Alex’s weight bench rests. There’s a slight slant to Lucas’s smile as he glances back to Eliott. “You think you can tell me what to do?”

Oh god. If Lucas really thinks tonight is the night to continue being a sassy, teasing, little shit, he’s got another thing coming.

“Yes.” Eliott’s voice has dropped a couple octaves without conscious intent and he sees Lucas shiver at the sound. “Now. On your back.”

Lucas swallows heavily but does as told, sitting down on the bench first and releasing a surprised gasp. He’d done that at the dinner table too when they’d arrived back after using the bathroom. He’d gasped, just a little, as he’d sat down, squirming slightly until he’d apparently found a position – an angle – that had satisfied him, and he’d rejoined conversation. No one had noticed but Eliott, and the knowledge had filled his body with a growing heat that had settled into a smolder in his balls. That they had made it through the rest of the dinner without Eliott mounting him in the middle of the restaurant, directly on the table, had felt like an accomplishment in itself.  

Lucas rolls down onto his back, blinking up at Eliott with wide and expectant eyes. Eliott approaches slowly, eyes tracking down Lucas’s body until he reaches his feet, pressed to the bench.

“Bend your knees. Back to your chest.”

He sees the way Lucas inhales – the way he pauses before obeying, no doubt torn between his constant need to challenge Eliott, and his more overwhelming desire to listen… to let Eliott give him what he wants. His eyes war until in the end, he does as told, bending his knees back to his chest and revealing the end of the plug tucked up inside him. Eliott inhales sharply at the sight, pressing a hand against the back of Lucas’s thigh to spread him further. Eliott rests a knee against the bench and moves a hand to the plug, pressing his thumb down onto the circular end. It’s blue – sparkly and blue.

“Eliott. Fuck.”

Eliott looks up to see Lucas’s eyes squeezed shut. He’s raised his arms above his head and holds tight to the other end of the bench.

“Feel good?” Eliott asks, pressing against the plug once more.

“God,” Lucas groans, hazy eyes blinking open to stare down at Eliott. “Yes.” He sucks in a breath before speaking once more, his voice demanding. “Now get it out of me and fuck me already.” It’s the sort of demand Eliott is happy to obey.  

Eliott grips the edges of the plug and tugs gently, watching the way the flared end stretches Lucas’s hole. His muscles clench as though attempting to hold onto the silicone shape as it leaves his body, tightening again when he’s left empty. Eliott moves a thumb to his rim, slick with the remnants of lube.

“Eliott.” Lucas’s leg lashes out, catching Eliott in the shoulder.

Eliott stumbles back slightly on his heels, raising an unimpressed eyebrow as he looks up at Lucas. “Impatient?”

“This is supposed to be a quicky,” Lucas pants, doing his best to look annoyed though the sweaty flush to his face robs him of the composure he seeks. “Put it in me.”

“It?” Eliott grins, holding up the butt plug, shiny and gleaming in the bedroom light. “This? Or me?”

The colour in Lucas’s cheeks deepens to an even more impressive red, just as Eliott expected it to. “God. Just… you. Put that down. Get inside me.” Lucas bends his knees back towards his chest, spreading his legs while he does so and Eliott feels a measure of his self control slip. He swallows.

“Yeah. Yeah, I – lube?”

Lucas shakes his head. “I’m fine. I lubed up before. Just fuck me already.”

And Eliott would like to – and he plans to but… this is the first time they’ve done it like this and he’s not taking any chances. “Lucas. Tell me you brought lube.”

Lucas huffs, looking irritated but resigned. “Fine,” he groans. “Pants pocket.”

Eliott grins and rushes to find it, pulling out the small tube but pausing before slicking himself up. He looks back to Lucas in question. “Bare?”

Lucas nods. “Yeah. C’mon. Hurry.”

“But…” Eliott moves towards him, unsure. “It’ll be messy after. Not like we’re at home.”

Lucas shakes his head, looking suddenly just a little shy. “No, it won’t.” He directs his eyes to where Eliott had placed the plug, propped beside their clothing. The meaning behind his words sinks into Eliott’s slowly, and with heady awareness he looks back to his boyfriend spread before him on the bench. “Yeah,” Lucas whispers as though Eliott had spoken a question out loud. “Yeah. Now.”

Eliott’s hands shake as he coats his erection with lube. He wipes the remnants on his own thighs as he reaches for Lucas, sliding him until his ass reaches the end of the bench. Lucas allows the manhandling, holding the back of his own thighs to spread himself further.

“Baby,” Eliott whispers overwhelmed as he takes hold of his erection and leans down with his other hand steadying himself above Lucas’s head on the bench.

“Yeah,” Lucas groans as the blunt head of Eliott’s cock presses into him. “Fuck. Yeah.”

Eliott removes his hand from his erection as he sinks deeper, clasping it to the side of Lucas’s ribcage instead as he breathes through the incredible feeling of sinking into the tight heat of Lucas’s body. He’ll never get used to this feeling – the physical sensation of being inside Lucas without a barrier matched with the extraordinary knowledge of what it means to get to do so, the incredible trust Lucas shows in allowing him this privilege.

Lucas’s hands move to Eliott’s chest, scratching lightly as he moans. “Move. Fucking move.”

Eliott chuckles lightly. “I will. But baby?” He struggles to speak, his voice strained and words clipped.

“What?” Lucas gasps, squirming beneath him as though he could force Eliott deeper. “Fucking – what?!”

“Need you to co – come for me ok?”

Lucas releases a breath like a laugh. “Yeah. Was planning to.”

“No.” Eliott waits until Lucas’s eyes focus on him. “Fast. Need you to come fast because I’m gonna –”

Lucas nods, jerky and a little frantic now. “Yeah, I – I will. Please, Eli. Please.”

Eliott inhales a deep breath, searching for control as he pulls his cock from Lucas’s body. It shouldn’t be this good already – when they’ve barely even begun. Somehow, it always is. Somehow, every time Eliott is inside Lucas it feels as overwhelming – as fucking good – as it did the first time. He slams back in. They both grunt with the impact and Lucas throws his head back, his nails biting into Eliott’s shoulders.

Eliott doesn’t bother with a building rhythm, making it hard and fast from the very first stroke. It’s what they both need and there’s sense in pretending otherwise. Eliott presses his body down against Lucas and barely pulls out, pounding up into him with a force that would have Lucas’s body pushed up and off the bench if not for the way Eliott’s weight holds him down.

Lucas can barely squeeze a hand between them, but he manages, reaching to wrap it around the head of his own erection as he shudders with each thrust of Eliott’s cock inside him. When his eyes open and fix on Eliott, there’s a need in them Eliott knows just how to meet. He leans down, pressing lips against Lucas’s ear as he continues his relentless pace driving into Lucas’s body. His own orgasm is licking at his balls, just on the precipice of exploding, but he holds it back, determined to give Lucas this first. His voice.

“That’s it, baby,” Eliott encourages. “My boy. Beautiful boy. Come for me. Lu.” He presses a kiss to Lucas’s temple as he feels his control begin to slip. “Love you. Fuck. Love you.” Lucas makes a low sound, and his body seizes with his orgasm, coming apart as he shakes in Eliott’s arms.

Eliott’s body reads it as a signal, and he groans loudly, falling down onto Lucas as his orgasm washes through him. He drives his cock up into Lucas’s body in a series of rapid bursts as he rides out the wave, gasping for air as the pleasure releases its strangle hold on his lungs.

He lays against Lucas, face tilted down against Lucas’s chest as he feels the rise and fall of the chest beneath him. When he finds the strength to press himself up it’s the sight of Lucas, sweaty and red, and looking so incredibly well fucked and content, one would think they’d been at it all night versus the… well, Eliott doesn’t want to admit exactly how pathetic both of their stamina was in this case. Though there is a certain level of pride that comes with knowing Lucas was just as hopeless.  

Lucas licks his lips as he stares up at Eliott. “You should put it back in.” His voice is low and husky with satisfaction. Eliott looks at him in confusion, glancing down to where he hasn’t yet parted their bodies and his cock remains, buried inside Lucas’s body. “The plug,” Lucas says, reading Eliott’s confusion. “You should put it back in.”

Eliott’s eyes snap shut and he groans as his cock jerks inside Lucas, making one last valiant effort to fill Lucas even further with evidence of him. “Oh god.”

Lucas squirms beneath him. “Eliott. Do it.”

Eliott nods. “Ok.” He inhales sharply as he pulls his spent cock from Lucas’s body. He reaches for the plug, pressing the tip against the dribble of come that’s already begun leaking from Lucas’s body, moving it until the tip becomes shiny with come. He stares mesmerized by the sight.

“Eliott. Fuck!” Lucas reaches to grab the plug from his hands and shoves it into his body without ceremony, inhaling around a gasp as he does so.

Eliott’s lower lip juts out in a pout. “I would have done it.”

Lucas snorts as he sits up on the bench. “Sure.” He grimaces as he stands, squirming slightly as he gets used to the feeling of it back inside him.

“Is it ok?” Eliott asks. “If it’s uncomfortable – if it hurts – we can take it out.”

“No,” Lucas answers immediately with a shake of his head as he goes about collecting his clothes. He reaches for a roll of paper towels at the side of the room, quickly cleaning the evidence of his own orgasm from his stomach, before he tosses the roll to Eliott. “Just feels a little strange.” He begins to put on his underwear and pants and Eliott moves to do the same, after a cursory cleaning of the bench and himself.

“It feels… wetter.”

Eliott freezes in the midst of buttoning back up his shirt. He looks back at Lucas to see he’s struggling to do the same. And it’s just… the reality of what they’ve done slams into Eliott a little like a second orgasm, the wave of euphoria so instant, he’s a bit lightheaded with it. “I came inside you.”

Lucas glances up, having just finished buttoning his shirt. “Yeah?”

Eliott swallows heavily, removing his hands from the buttons of his own shirt when Lucas steps forward to finish the job. “It’s – it’s like I still am. Inside you.”

Lucas doesn’t look up, studiously fastening the last of the buttons of Eliott’s shirt but he nods. “Feels that way too. It’s like – I can feel you.”

“Lucas,” Eliott breathes and reaching for Lucas’s face, tilting it up until he can press their lips together. They both sink into a soft kiss, enjoying the taste of one another’s mouths without the frenzy of their former need driving every movement. Lucas pushes him back after a moment with a soft smile.

“Come on. Probably near midnight by now.”

If Eliott’s honest, he’d forgotten about the celebration of the New Year entirely. He’s almost a little sad they didn’t time it so he was inside Lucas as the clock struck twelve – just as Lucas had originally suggested.

They attract a few curious glances as they leave the room, and at least a few giggles, but thankfully the hallway is filled with no one Eliott immediately recognizes.

“Where you two been?” Arthur asks as they re-enter the living room. Despite the question, his expression suggests he already knows. “You almost missed it,” he continues, voice raised to be heard over the din of rising noise in the room. “Minute to go!” He adds. Eliott smiles. He supposes, in the end, he and Lucas did time that quite well.

Lucas is suddenly tugging at his hand, pulling him towards the front door of the apartment.

“Lucas?” Eliott questions but follows. “What are you doing?”

Lucas looks back at him with a wide grin, his eyes lit up with a familiar blend of excitement and mischief. “Let’s go!”

Eliott doesn’t question him, rushing to find their jackets as they hurry from the apartment. Lucas breaks out into a run the moment they reach the hallway.

“Lucas!” Eliott calls out laughing, immediately giving chase. “What are you doing?!”

“There’s no time!” Lucas yells, bolting down the stairway and not stopping until they both burst into the cold night air.

It’s begun raining Eliott realizes with surprise. It’s a light drizzle but cold. It’s the sort of rain that hints at snow, though they’re unlikely to get it, and he suddenly desperately wants to see Lucas in the snow. Eliott can perfectly picture the snowflakes catching on his eyelashes.

“We should go north.”

Lucas spins around in the rain, his smile as bright as the moonlight casting a glow around them. “What?”

“Next Christmas. We should go north. I want snow.”

“Ok,” Lucas agrees with a laugh.

The distant sound of people chanting the countdown sounds from the building. Their friends or someone else celebrating, Eliott doesn’t know. It doesn’t matter. He reaches for Lucas just as Lucas does the same, and they pull one another close.

Eight! Seven!

A raindrop drips down Lucas’s face. The rain is growing heavier. 

“We should get out of the rain,” Eliott suggests. “It’s cold.”

Five! Four!

“No,” Lucas disagrees, tilting his head back to catch more drops on his face. “I love it.”

The sound of the countdown drifts into background noise, irrelevant and unimportant when faced with the beauty of the boy in his arms.

“I knew I loved you then.”

Lucas looks back to him. “What?”

“That day in the rain,” Eliott continues. “When we drove back from my parents place. I knew I loved you then.”

Lucas’s mouth parts with his surprise, before a smile begins pulling at the corners of his mouth. “I loved you then too.”

Eliott stares at him in wonder. “You did?”

“Yeah,” Lucas admits with a slight laugh. “Was pretty annoyed about how goddamn much I did but, yeah – I loved you then.”

A wide smile stretches across Eliott’s face. “I love you now too.”

Lucas smiles, sweet and pleased. “Good. Now kiss me. You missed the countdown, you dork.”

The noise of New Year’s revelers suddenly filters back into Eliott’s consciousness, cheers and laughter mixed with the pop of fireworks being set off in all corners. He smiles.

“Maybe,” he admits. “We’ve always been better at making our own rules.”

Lucas makes a sound of amusement, looking charmed. “Gonna make our own countdown then?”

“Five, four –”

Lucas cuts him off, pressing their lips together in a hard, lingering kiss before he pulls back.

“So fucking cheesy I don’t know what I see in you.”  

Eliott laughs into the next kiss, smiling too hard - far too fucking happy - to do more than press their lips together in an uncoordinated attempt at sharing his bliss with Lucas.  

Lucas’s eyes are shining when Eliott separates them to look at him once more.

“Why’d you pull me out here?”

Lucas’s eyes move to a drop of rain trailing down Eliott’s cheek and he cups his hand there, his thumb brushing across the skin to capture the moisture. When his eyes look back to Eliott’s they’re filled with such warmth, it spreads through Eliott like a living flame, fierce and powerful, but comforting too. And he feels safe. Safe and so very loved.

“I only ever want to be with you.”

* * * * 

END NOTES: I’ll add this and the Xmas snippet to ao3 shortly. Hope you liked it!!! Smooches to you all and here’s to saying good fucking riddance to 2020!!! 

[ficsnroses]

Weekend Away - John Wick x Reader

prompt  : “I think we were a little too loud last night...”

warnings : smut, fluff! x f! reader. 2.8k.

summary : john and you are away for the weekend with friends, and end up getting intimate one evening. however, the next morning, you fear someone may have heard you two getting freaky hehehaheha

notes : this is something I wrote a while ago, but didn’t think it would ever see the light of day. last night I pulled it out of my drafts and did a little editing, and here it is! please leave feedback if you enjoy. I really do miss being around here. hope everyone's doing well today xx 

I really wanted to post something for keke’s birthday<33:) happy birthday to the most excellent man I know, ilysm. I've been itching to post something, but haven't been able to bring myself to write anything new yet. I have a couple more stories like this that I wrote but never posted, I might release those while going through this writing/creative break. Thank you for sticking around, it means so so much :)

“You have no idea how hard it was to not rip your bikini bottoms to the side and fuck you right then and there, in the lake.” An aroused John whispers, deep baritoned voice rasped with thick need. Today, John and you had ventured out on a trip with some friends to a Cabin by your favourite lake; woody outdoors and crystal waters to bliss.

Soft, plump breasts and perfectly dewy skin, glistening under the moonlight. John sighs, remembering that this, you, in all your entirety, were his. All his, for the taking. Groaning into the silk of your pink stained lips, his tongue brushes delicately over yours, his lips leaving peppered kisses along your cheeks, your jaw, eliciting soft moans from you that only warmed him further.

In the woods, the breeze was different; beautifully élite; whisked winds laced with something that hungered John- the gorgeous views of you, his girl, enjoying yourself. Lately, John and you had been majorly occupied, busy schedules and endless work days leaving little to leisure.

This trip was with friends, yet more, for you and your John to be together; at last.

Now, in the midst of the midnight eve, John and you lay low in your shared bedroom for the stay; a beautifully wooden cabin room with expensive faux furred carpets, a breathtaking view of the pearly moon gazed out your window. John’s callous, sturdy palms worship each inch of your silky skin, kneading, massaging your feminine hips, meaty cock throbbed to a bulging poke; tender on your bare thigh.

Attributed to tiresome nights, complied with conflicting schedules; it’d been a while since John and you had sex.

Real, rough, pleasurable, critically needed sex.

And now, finally, he’s far too in love, far too intoxicated by your touch to stop, your own thoughts far too hazed to halt now. Underneath his nude body, you lay, completely wanton & exposed for his taking. Slow, tender, your petite hand strokes his rock hard cock, gently tugging him in preparation for what would come next. Synchronized, John’s breath sputters hot against your skin, full lips kissing delicately down the column of your neck. Mindlessly, he leaves faintly violet marks, marking your body as his own, personal paradise.

A place only he was allowed to pleasure.

“I’ve missed you so much.” You whisper, kissing a delicate bruise to his shoulder. Gentle, sensitive, your soft hand toys with his balls, massaging his cock. “I missed this,” Smirking, you smear tiny dew drops of his pre cum, bringing up a finger to lick clean, tasting the sap of his seed to your lips.

Salty, decadent; sinfully sweet. All yours.

“Yeah, kitten?” John softly, deeply whispers. “I missed your pretty pussy.” Sighing when you pull him closer, your eyes close to the feel of him kissing your neck, so mindlessly in love with all of you in this moment. “My pretty pussy.” He grins, a wet kiss stippling to your lips.

Slow, present, John’s stocky fingers move between your entwined bodies to rub soft circles to your slick entrance; your clit in order to ease himself in, preparing your cunt. With a sharp breath sucked in, and a glutteral moan enticed off his needy lips, John sighs heavily, your own gasp laced with anticipation when you feel him sink inside in one hard thrust. His thickness splits you inch by inch, your delicate walls barely able to accommodate him whole.

Being with John, has always been a treat. The way he loves you, offers your needs first; he fucks so good, makes love so well.

Arms loomed to his neck, you draw his body closer with a bite to your lip, his own bearded jaw tightening to the feel of your warm, deliciously wet haven swallowing him whole. The pace he sets proves imperative, rough, stumbling profanities and whispers of love fleeing both your lips. Your cunt burns deliciously to his thrusts, the feel of his thick, heavy balls slamming relentlessly to your seared core pushing you further over the edge. John’s chest is quick to heave, quick to daub a rosy hue with peppered pink patches from the heat; delectably satisfying relief, at last.

“Feel good, baby?” John moans, voice confident with sure; he was quite literally fucking you into oblivion. Eyes clasped shut to a tight hold, your mouth falls slightly a gape; genuine tears threatening to scorch when you feel the absolute bliss he’s channeling into you. Hard, fast, deep, so fucking deep he hits your end each time, your G spot grinding to his touch. Whimpering, you allow small, tiny gasps to plead out, hands placing to John’s ass to urge him in further, practically melting within his touch as he ventures to the valley of your breasts.

John adores your breasts, so full, so plump, so soft for his taking. Wet and warm, you groan to the feel of his mouth delighting your nipples, hands squeezing, kneading gently to the soft flesh of your modesty. To each jolt of his hips, your breasts bounce rhythmically, soft fingers of your hands pulling a tug to his coffee hued, lengthy strands. Massaging his scalp, you allow his head to take refuge in the soft curve of your neck, and he kisses the skin, sucking, nipping, appreciating the silk as his hips never falter; fingers moving to your cunt to rub, swirl, massaging two digits to your creamy released mixed together.

“It’s…it’s so good-” Yelped out your lips, a particularly loud moan shudders through the surround air, repetitive praises of his name reciting as if a prayer you so desperately needed to live by flows off your tongue; the syllables drenched with need. “So tight, sweetheart, you’re so fucking tight.” John moans, a feverish kiss to your mauve stained lips. “You look the most beautiful when you’re taking me the way you do, baby.” He whispers, wet marks doused into your skin. He pumps hastily, pounding your walls, and the slight curve of his massive length pulses; thick shafted veins and gorgeous bumps, ridges all felt deep, deep inside.

John’s cock is a piece of art. A masterpiece, you’d forever pride in.

Within a few particularly harsh thrusts, you yelp in pleasure as your orgasm washes over you, searing your nerves with blissful tingles as he fucks, pounding into your delicate, gently bruising skin, still chasing his own.

“Gonna cum,” John groans, and you clench your cunt tight for him, tight; just how he liked it. His hips roll selfishly almost, breathy moans appreciating your body immense. “You feel so good, honey, so fucking good.” He drills, and slams, and batters, into your sore pussy, your nails desperately digging bruises into his biceps as you encourage. “Cum for me John, inside, baby, let me feel you.” You soak, back arching, body jerking as you feel him burst inside; habitually pulling your body close as he cums. John’s cock stills deep, deep inside, spurts of his hot, delectably creamy seed slicking inside you as you sigh,

sigh in complete,

and utter, bliss. Bliss with your love close, nestled on top with your skin sticking together; your arms providing a safe haven for his sex gratified body to rest, coming down both your highs.

“I love you,” He barely manages, foreheads connecting as you hold each other close, lips twisting into warm smiles and tender giggles to the thought of being able to do exactly this, all over again, the next day.

Morning comes in warm, yellow waves of nothing, but beautiful warmth all around. You’d waken to the bed next to you empty, John’s vacant spot casting a gentle frown to your lips when you’d come to know of his absence. Sleep thickened eyes had barely fluttered open, tired arms searching, longing to nestle into his broad, beautifully comforting chest. Voices can be perceived downstairs, the bedside clock illuminating the time of 8:30 AM, aromas of floral dark and freshly watered pine exuding all around.

With a small yawn and a stretch of limbs, you’d climbed out a sea of rippling, silky duvet seams, opting to drape John’s long forgotten shirt from the night prior off the floor and onto your exposed breasts. In the heat of the moment, sleep had long pirouetted through your veins, and you’d only managed to slip back on a pair of lacy underwear before the bulk of John’s arms had drawn your body close, burying his bearded face into your neck with his own form tangling with yours, succumbing to a deep slumber, holding each other close.

The cabin was big, yet intimate. All of yours and John’s dearest friends had accompanied; you’d long know you’d be leaving this weekend with a suitcase full of memories and wishful remembrances, spent with people who meant to you.

Through a gentle smile and rub of drooping eyelids, you venture out your shared room, a bigger smile enveloping when the sight of your dream catches your glimpse from above the wooden stairs. John sits below, at the wooden dining table, a coffee in hand as his brown littered eyes gloss the morning paper. He looks beautiful this way, unbelievably handsome. You’d long come to appreciate morning John, ruffled hair a mess from the night’s sleep, with that special, raspy morning velvet voice that still sent butterflies rippling within you. Gently thudding down the steps, he smiles wide catching sight of you towards him, adorned in his white Henley shirt.

“Morning.” Smiling, your hands thread into the wisps of his chocolate hair, sinking into the depths of his lap as his arms come around your frame. His eyes seem warmer than normal, a glittering shine casting over each his features.

“Hi, baby.” John warmly grins, stippling a gentle kiss to your temple with the pads of his fingers grazing over your skin through a pull of your body closer. “Did you sleep okay?” He wonders, thumb smoothing over your cheek as a stray hair tucks behind your ear.

Still smiling a warm symphony, you sigh. “I did. Didn’t like waking up without you there, though.”

John’s lips frown, and a heaviness falls to his tone. “I’m sorry, I got a call earlier. Didn’t wanna wake you too early.” Explaining, his hand falls to cover yours that lays flat on his chest, softly grazing over the supple skin. “You haven’t been able to sleep in lately. I wanted you to have that this weekend.”

Moments like this with John prove to be your favourite; simple, mundane, enveloped in love. Moments where the laughter rolls up from his chest, and his smile shines a glow to each part of you that loves seeing him this way. Moments where you anticipate, dream of a future together, where you’d wake to him this way every day,

Smiling, and smiling, with perhaps your favourite book in hand and his head in your lap; full pots of earl grey brewing,

as you lounge on a Sunday morning. Smiling, and smiling,

        because of him.

Love drunk, you lean in closer, catching his lips in a warm kiss, smiling and smiling, into his lips. He tastes of espresso, light and mellow, and that something unique held on his tongue; something only he’d had, something sweet.

Lost in each other’s touch, you sigh as you pull away, moving to sit behind him on the chair adjacent, helping yourself to a sip of his ceramic mug. His hand plants to your thigh, gently soothing the skin while his eyes scan through the sea of words resumed on his morning paper read. You’d just gotten comfortable, sinking into the chair with John’s coffee coupled in your grip for another sip, as the voice of your best friend channels your ears.

“Morning, love birds.” She grins, walking through the wooden kitchen corridors. With a smirk daubed to her lips and a knowing simper your way, you’d immediately caught onto something shifty in her tone.

“Hey, Amy.” John greets, chuckling. With another sip of his coffee, that you’d devoured a good portion of, he kindly asks. “How was your night? Did you sleep okay?”

Amy’s lips curl with a knowing smirk, something you’d become immensely familier with over the course of your friendship. Knowing each other since the first grade, Amy and you were quite possibly as close as they come. John may have not been able to pick up on her alteration, but you’d been quick.

“I did.” Amy returns, shuffling through the cabinets for a glass mug of her own. “There was a little...commotion around midnight, but it wasn’t too bad.” She adds, eyes drifting to yours, a goofy smile on her lips. With your eyes narrowing and stare scrunching, your alertness raises, and you let go of John’s hand that had mindlessly been holding yours, removing it off your thigh. Peering up at your lips as you raise off the seat, John’s fingers tug your forearm, asking for a small kiss before you’d walk away. Embedding your lips to his briefly, you feel him let go of your skin as your eyes suspiciously cast over Amy, mindlessly shuffling through the kitchen space as she prepares herself a cup of coffee. You stay cautious, ambled up beside her as you check the fridge.

Something is off.

“We have cream, right?” She asks, offering you half her blueberry muffin, taking out a carton of eggs from the fridge.

“Should be in there.” You return, still thoughtful, attempting to study her whole. The longer you stare, the more normalcy returns, and you wonder if maybe your tired brain had merely thought there had been something off with her tenor. Easing yourself, you opt to give it the benefit of the doubt, opening the carton of eggs to aid her in making breakfast for all the others.

Still asleep, her husband James would probably be down soon; him and John got along pretty well, and double date nights were quite frequent between you all.

“How many should we do?” She squints her eyes your way, sighing. “Half the carton?”

“Sure.” You reply, relaxing into a more normal state of mind. “Make me a cup of coffee too please, I accidentally drank half of John’s when I got down.” You giggle, taking the carton from her hands. She chuckles an approval in response, gathering all the utensils and gadgets you’d need for preparation. Finally, as you lean over the cabin sink, washing your hands with the lavender scented soap, you hear Amy just behind your ear as she reaches beside you, pumping some soap into her own hand. 

“By the way, you totally have porn star moans.”

And your eyes widen. Shock and realization courses your veins, a horrified expression washes over your features as you allow her comment to absorb. Amy only giggles, chuckling, with her sarcastically suggestive voice teasing you further. “Sounds like Jonathan is real good in bed.” Just below a whisper, so only you’d hear, she titters, amused by your baffled expression.

“Oh my god, Amy!” You cease, slapping the back of your hand over her arm. “You should have texted me! Or knocked! What if someone else heard?” You whisper angrily, still slightly embarrassed. “Oh my gosh, did James hear?” You swallow thickly, rubbing a hand to your ached temple.

“Oh sweetheart, if he wasn’t snoring away I’m sure he would have heard too.” She laughs to your dismay. “Relax, our room was right beside yours. I’m sure no one else heard.” She assures, trying to provide some sort of comfort, but ultimately reverting to a deep, hearty fit of chuckles when she catches your nervous gaze once again. With a deep sigh, you escape her tease, leaving the kitchen with a few quick steps as you find your way back to John who sits by the window, still flipping through his newspaper. Slipping beside him, you sigh deep, before biting your lip.

“John,” You quietly alert, gazing around to make sure no one else would hear. His expression thickens, and his eyes fall heavier, sensing the unease to your features.

“Everything okay, sweetheart?”

Groaning, you bite your lip again, sighing with a timid realization. “John, I think…” With your eyes focused to the ground, you bask, contemplating, sighing. It wasn’t the end of the world; Amy is your best friend; you both know practically every secret there is to know about each other in the history of ever. Yet, there still was a lingering mortification, a blush that crept to your cheeks when she’d spoke of the night prior.

John’s heavier hand strokes over yours, comforting. “What’s wrong, babe?” And with a final bite to your lip, you whisper, grasping his arm.

“I think we were a little too loud last night.” 

John’s cheeks flush pink, and a goofy smile casts his darker features. He smiles a timid grin, eyes downcast as he lightly chuckles a couple huffs, thinking back to the night prior. “Amy heard.” You whisper, barely groaning.

John’s eyes scan the room, before he takes hold of your arms again, drawing your body in closer. With a sultry voice, and that beautifully deep, crisp gravel of his tone you’d come to adore, he whispers into your ear, smiling. “Well, guess we’ll have to be quieter tonight.” He channels, as you bury your head into his chest, embarrassed, yet smiling to the sheer wit of the situation. “I do love a challenge.” John quietly adds, bringing his muscled arms around your figure, whispering a few chuckles into your hair.

And as you gaze up, catching his silly grin and pink cheeks blushed to a peachy hue, you smile,

and smile,

feeling the warmth of his stocky hand slip into the seams of your shirt, gently soothing over your back, as his lips pepper a gentle kiss to your hair, still smiling. “Darling, it’s nearly impossible for me to be quiet, 

when I’m with you.”

➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴

My taglist will be posted in reblogs, let me know if you want to be added or removed! :)

[dancing-the-hellfire-rumba]

I See You Clearly Now

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 0, babeyy. Complicated human relationships, maybe.

Word Count: 5.5k, once again, what the absolute fuck, who am I

Summary: An impromptu all nighter and a very domestic day with Sam who is- he’s a crush, right? Right?

A/N: This was basically me working through my emotions for a person in my life. I don’t-

Also, this was half because of an anonymous request I got the other day that wrote “please some sam winchester x reader but maybe an au with no creepy scary things” Here you go, hon. I’d argue complicated feelings are scarier than monsters, but whatever lights your candle :)

It’s four in the morning and she doesn’t particularly know when the decision was made to ignore the black night sky or the time, or how both Madison and her mutually agreed to it, but sleep is not close in the horizon. College life is exhausting, but this week was uneventful and slow, unmoving to the point of boredom. The beers in her fridge were staring angrily back at her, and her contacts seemed to anticipate her texts. Madison was the first choice, she hadn’t seen her in a while.

And where I go / Singing song of your affection / With rhymes to your perfection / Of you

I see you clearly now / I hold you dearly now / The sun is in my eyes (x)

Meeting arranged, hugs in hello and rosy cheeks, because her apartment is always warm, beers cracked open and drunk, and now Madison is on one of her white, comfortable lounge chairs, angrily ranting about Steve Rogers and Marvel. It’s that hour of the early morning when everything feels a bit gooey and intangible, stretched and fabricated, and there’s nowhere she’d rather be, content in defending a character she loves, warm, belly full of light alcohol and midnight-made crepes. Her cat moves loosely in the room, pointedly ignoring both humans, and Y/n’s cozy and happy to see the wild motions of her friend’s hands as she yells- the mild worry in the back of her head that she’ll find a note with a noise complaint taped on her door the next morning.

For all she cares, nothing could make this any better.

The night continues, laughter over Youtube videos and reality competition failures, repeated funny clips and belly-holding, more hurting of the cheeks from the laughter, more snacks, and she’s forgotten what that feels like in her never ending, break-neck-paced everyday life.

Time passes full of smiles and even more green cans of beer. Pyjamas are worn, sleeping bags are stretched on the floor over the fluffy grey rug, her cat seemingly having found a new enemy in the whipping of the sheets in the air. They laugh at her playing with them, until she settles on her little spot over her soft blanket. The girls stretch in their makeshift beds and they talk, texts are shot to other friends, also awake, selfies full of grins and-

“Sam says hello,” is all Madison has to say for Y/n to suddenly feel his absence in the room.

Sam. Of course.

“Gimme your phone.” Tipsy voice message with off-key singing sent. More happy smiles. A reply, a voice message of his own- “I’m glad you two are having fun. Where are you guys?”.

Y/n’s place, the reply is sent.

“Should I tell him to come by?” And Y/n has to hold her heart in steel hands to force it not to jump out of her chest and straight into her throat. Somehow, Sam always shows up when Madison calls, she thinks, a bitter taste in her mouth. Jealousy. Bottom lip bitten.

“Of course, if he wants to.” She hates to admit she’s excited to see him. Hates it, because she hasn’t talked to him in five months- not properly anyways- and the idea that Madison somehow is always in contact with him makes the familiar knife twist. The two had dated, sure, they’re friends now, a chemistry shared between them that’s inexplicable. It makes her wonder how two people can be so familiar with each other, how they can always be so fucking happy, bouncing off of each other, the sparks fly, people wonder why they broke up (Madison fell in love with someone else. Y/n doesn’t know how Sam reacted.)

Madison and her are friends, sure, but it seems everyone from that side of her friendships is close, but not enough to touch, so Madison never talked about it to her. Sam didn’t either. In fact Sam never even mentioned they’re dating. Sam never ever talks about his relationships. Not to her. He once told her, in that one phone call that lasted four hours until 6 in the morning, the one she can’t seem to forget, that he thinks his love life is nobody’s business. He’s vulnerable with it. Doesn’t share it ever with pretty much anyone (he’d share it with Madison, she thinks bitterly.) Sam, additionally, rarely answers her texts.

They’re in this weird limbo situation. She’d confessed her affection about a year ago, New Year’s eve and festive spirits, influenced by champagne and encouraging friends, and she’d received an “I wondered about us too, but I’m honestly in a weird place, unsure. I really enjoy your company, though, I think you’re really cool and I am very happy with how we are now. Friends.” No dice. She took it in stride. She’s fine with it. No really, she is. Over it.

Then Madison hooked up with him. That one hurt.

They’d talked about it- with Madison that is- because they’re friends, Madison had also been jealous -before Y/n’s confession, when Sam seemed sorta into her and things were going well- and had urged her to go for it. Y/n had shared the sentiment (“If you two end up doing anything, I’m fine with it, it’s really none of my business. You’ve been his friend for longer than I have.”) and she had really meant it. But then Sam didn’t want her, and he ran off in the sunset with Madison for a grand total of three months, and rotten feelings were there in every other step Y/n took.

Now though, she’s fine. Sam has a different pace than her, she knows it now, has come to terms with it. He’s such a gentle, loving creature, so caring and passionate and smart and kind, with those wonderful eyes and his soft hair and the scent that makes her weak in the knees. She’ll have him in her life if that means a single four hour phone call every six months and loose texts here and there- sent by her of course, because he rarely ever texts first for some infuriating reason, and she panics he’s gonna forget her. Other than that, she’s come to terms with the fact that they’ll always be distant friends, that she’ll admire him from afar and he’ll maybe think about her once a month.

He always seems so happy to see her, though. He’s so fucking difficult to decipher.

“He’s on his way.” Brought back to the present by Madison’s statement, Y/n sulks back in her seat, a small, excited smile crossing her features. She’s happy to see him. She missed him.

He’s making his way through the other side of town, though. He’ll be here in two hours just to see them, and her heart flutters.

Till then, Madison lays in her sleeping bag turns out the lights, Y/n’s cat stretches sleepily, and Y/n doesn’t fall asleep, anxious she won’t hear him ring her bell, won’t hear her phone or Madison’s at his call. She’s only slightly desperate.

Time has slipped to six in the morning. Y/n’s eyes are wide open, her head woozy from the fatigue and the alcohol, but, when the rug vibrates with the ring of Madison’s phone, she jumps. She jumps, and so does her heart, skips a beat, because he’s here and she hasn’t seen him since the summer and she just wants to hug him hello.

“Pst! Madison.” With a slap of her hand over her phone, Madison, in a lump on the floor, pulls the phone and balances it on the cut of her cheekbone, speaker over her ear, while her hand slumps back under the sleeping bag. Nelly- Y/n’s cat- blinks lazily, spooked by the sound of the phone call, but ultimately, not giving it much attention.

“Hm? Yeah. Mkay,” sleepy, mumbled words muttered into the phone. At least someone caught some shut-eye between them. “Bring some beers.” A small chuckle, a shake of her shoulders. “Oh yah.” Another laugh. “Hmph, buzzkill.”

Y/n is turning on a small light, just until the sun rises properly up the sky, because everything is currently a little dark still.

“Atta boy. We’re waiting for you.” Another short laugh. Madison hangs up  turns on her back, and her phone falls off her face as she stretches, smiles, arms slumping over her chest. She doesn’t offer much information about the phone call. Not ten minutes later, the doorbell rings.

Y/n stumbles, sheets tangling on her legs, nearly tripping, to buzz him in.

He walks up the stairs, and she sees his head rise over the edge of the top step, a crooked smile on his pretty lips and she smiles back brightly. Arms raised over his head, he shows a plastic bag, clinking glass inside, and he whoops slightly. Y/n grins, throwing a victorious fist in the air.

“The feast continues!” And Sam laughs, toothy and bright as the sun. Y/n attacks him with a hug.

Warm arms stretch around her, hold her close, warm and tight, and he still smells heavenly, like he showered before he left his house. He smells like freshly cleaned clothes and vanilla scented body wash, like the seat of his car, deodorant and a deep, musky smell she can’t quite place.

My God, she’s missed him.

Madison is still on the floor of Y/n’s bedroom, mumbling her hello and burrowing a little in her sheets. Sam kneels down and hugs her, and she hugs back. “Nice to see you, dick”

“Runt,” he replies with a nod, as if he tips off his hat to her. Carefully, Sam also kneels next to Nelly, scritches under her little chin and whispers his soft greeting, to which the cat responds with a low purr and the bending of her head to give him a little more room. Sam smiles, and Y/n can feel her eyes being shaped into comically large hearts.

“M’God,” Madison groans. “I wanna stay awake but ugh.” Y/n smiles gently.

“Go back to bed. I have an appointment with my therapist in four hours though.” Madison nods numbly.

“Wake me up in three and a half, I’ll leave.” Y/n and Sam share a look and the former shrugs.

“Okay.”

Madison shifts, puts her headphones on and shuts her heavy eyelids, pretty much instantly falling asleep. Y/n is running on battery saver mode, enhanced by the incredible amount of adrenaline Sam’s presence seems to bring.

She nods for him to follow her and grabs her laptop, dumping herself on her living room couch, Sam closing the bedroom door behind himself and following her lead. He deposits most of the beers in the fridge and keeps two, which he opens. Y/n watches his ease in her kitchen, even though he’s never been here before and her heart wiggles in content.

He sits next to her on the couch, keeping a barely there distance between them, as she pushes the screen open. Despite all the feelings that have manifested in her chest over the relatively short time she’s known him, Sam and her really hit it off since day one. She met him during a surprise party thrown for Madison. Sam brought the cake, Y/n the candles and the lighter, and other friends brought alcohol, plastic plates that were never opened and cutlery.

The whole group had waited under Madison’s building, singing a very cheerful happy birthday, loudly enough for their voices to grow hoarse, and for Madison’s eyes to roll back into her skull with a sheepish smile. They had walked to a park, sat down and feasted on the cake straight from the pastry box, yet Sam was talking with Y/n on the swings a little ways to the right, away from the cheerful company, talking about fond childhood memories, about his brother, about their favourite movies. Y/n felt it, felt her heart drooping low, the familiar feeling of wanting to impress someone, to be liked by them. Even then, under whatever stars could be seen in their city, she knew he was gonna be trouble.

Beer bottle passed, and she clinks hers on his cheekily, receiving a tip of his head and a half-smile in response. Decided sips. Bottles held against bent knees as they both fold them like pretzels. Small talk about college, about recent misadventures and drunken phone calls, and soon she gets the urge to fill their time with something.

“Movie?” she asks, and Sam just seems on board.

“What do you have?”

And he ducks close to her and checks out the titles. “Do you wanna watch Hamilton? I’ve heard it’s really good.”

“YES, Sam,” enthusiastic and loud. Sam grins. They settle back on the couch.

Fifteen minutes into the play, Y/n doesn’t even hesitate, doesn’t ask and doesn’t preface by saying anything. With all the naturalism that their relationship has, all the affection she knows Sam has to give, she scooches closer to him and leans her head on his shoulder, hugs his arm to her chest, and he leans into her comfortably. “This okay?” The answer she looks for comes in the form of him leaning his head down on top of hers gently.

They watch two thirds of the play before they both get increasingly tired, since it’s a three hour performance. Their brains are kinda mushed, especially because of the lack of sleep, but they happily gush about how well made it is and Sam spews facts left and right about the price of the tickets, the actors and how the British royal family has gone to see it in-person.

“God, I wish I had the money to go up to NYC and watch it myself. I’ve never been to Broadway.” She sighs under his arm, which is now placed around her shoulders. Sam nods in agreement.

“Yeah, that must be so amazing to see in person.”

Bedroom door creaking open, Sam and Y/n separate from each other slowly as they watch Madison trudge to the living room like a phantom, a hand on her lower back.

“My God, Y/n, your floor is not hospitable at all.”

“Awh, I’m sorry.” Sam laughs next to her. “I don’t know why you didn’t move to the bed, though.” Madison glares, facepalms with a wince -the movement seems to rattle the spot that’s sore somehow- and shakes her head. “I didn’t- it- it didn’t cross my mind.”

Deep chuckles in amusement all around. Madison picks her stuff up. Y/n makes all of them some coffee, which they all quietly sip in the diminishing silence of the city waking up just outside their window.

The time for Y/n’s appointment approaches rapidly, and Madison waves goodbye, kisses both people on their cheeks and drives herself home. Y/n isn’t sure if Sam will stick around, so she checks the time awkwardly. She’d feel terrible to let him make his way back to other side of town just for these wimpy three hours wasted on tiredly catching up and watching a movie.

“Listen,” she says, and Sam’s attention is drawn from his coffee cup. “I’m gonna go to my bedroom, have my appointment, because we do it over Zoom anyway. You hang around, chill, and I’ll be back in an hour.”

“Alright,” Sam agrees gently. “Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

*

A painful, soul-straining hour later, wiping dry tear stains off her cheeks, Y/n makes her way to the living room, half forgetting Sam is even there. And boy if he’s there.

He’s stretched on her couch, legs barely fitting as he leans on the arm rest, ankles crossed, and a book he’s picked up from her bookshelf in his hands, while Nelly sleeps peacefully in his lap, finding comfort in his warmth. He hasn’t made an intense amount of progress, probably 50 or 60 pages in, but he seems invested, and for the seconds it takes him to notice her, Y/n admires him a little. Under the morning light through her thin, sheer curtains, rays are angled perfectly to make his cheekbones all the sharper, he, comfortable enough to relax in her worn-in couch. He looks so at home, and after such an emotionally draining hour, it’s so good to see someone who’s gentle, someone so familiar, waiting for her in her personal space, with her cat, as if he belongs there. It makes her heart do all sorts of stunts.

It seems he notices her from the corner of his eye though, and he puts the book down.

“Hey,” he tells her softly. “Are you good?”

“Uh,” she thinks for a second, pinches the bridge of her nose. “Yeah. I’m okay.” An offered smile, small and soft.

“Alright,” as if saying I’m choosing to believe you. “Have you read this yet?” He holds up a bright orange book, a small thing titled the Alchemist by Paolo Coelho. An offered change of subject. She smiles.

“Yeah, I have.” He folds his legs with a soft apology to Nelly who jumps off disgruntled, and Y/n takes it as a sign to sit on the couch next to him. His feet rest against her thighs, knees bent still.

“It’s so…” He sighs, struggles to find the words. “I mean, it’s not something I’d usually go for. It kind of feels childish and simple, but it’s so beautiful.” He seems slightly confused, surprised to find something he thought may be silly to be actually really good.

“I know right? It feels really simplistic, but some of the stuff it says is so eye-opening.”

“Listen to this,” he says and sits a little straighter, fixing the pillow on his back a little. “We are travelers on a cosmic journey, stardust, swirling and dancing in the eddies and whirlpools of infinity. Life is eternal. We have stopped for a moment to encounter each other, to meet, to love, to share. This is a precious moment. It is a little parenthesis in eternity.”

It’s like he chose the quote specifically for her, for this particular moment. A look is thrown his way, and he smiles crookedly. “I, uhm…” he rubs the back of his neck. “I just heard you crying, is all.” A nervous shrug. Y/n feels exhausted, drained, but in that little smile, that warmth, she feels like tearing up all over again at how fucking sweet he is. She pushes at his legs and reaches out to him for a hug, which he welcomes. She sighs.

“Thank you, Sam.”

                                                          ****

Eventually, they get up. They move to the kitchen and make grilled cheese sandwiches and tea, and Sam leans against her counter as he watches her take out plates from her cupboards, Nelly prancing around with distant meows for attention. Y/n picks large mugs, puts honey in hers and serves their half breakfast on the kitchen island. They eat under light conversation about dogs in social media and pets, and Sam sorta looks like he’s always been there, like this is the life they’ve always lived.

Hot mugs cupped in thick sleeve-covered hands. Bodies curling up on different ends of a couch. Comfortable conversation continues. Topic shifted to something more serious, and Sam tells her things, talks about how he’s grown mentally, how he understands himself a little better and how he wants to try therapy. She’s happy to see him like this, being -if only slightly- more open about himself, about how he is, not closing himself up, not fooling himself into believing he can shoulder the world alone. Y/n gives him her therapist’s phone number, tells him she’s proud of him and shares her own stories. She ruffles his hair and smiles affectionately, and Sam thanks her. Their mugs empty. Her heart grows fuller.

While moving back to the bedroom, Sam kneels next to Nelly. He offers her his hand, lets her sniff it, scritches the top of her soft little forehead, and Nelly pulls away, sniffing, wagging her tail in short annoyance. “Is that not okay? Alright, I’m sorry, honey,” he whispers to her gently, watches her lick his fingers for a second before settling back in her cat bed and watching him wearily. Sam gets the message and he pulls away, and Y/n’s never, ever seen anyone interact with her cat this way. Respectful and kind (and if that ain’t Sam, alright) and her heart lurches a bit. Of course Sam, practically the perfect guy, would test her cat’s boundaries as if she’s a human, and then never push them again. She sighs.

They end up on her bed. Sat next to each other. Laptop in front of her, heavy conversation discarded, set down for now, and she searches for her favourite stand-up comedians to show him, because she knows his sense of humour and he’s gonna love them, she’s sure. Yet, as she’s scrolling, Sam does the unspeakable, and slides behind her, one leg either side of her, arms going around her.

“ ‘M sorry, I needed a hug,” he tells her, and she curls her own arms over his, leaning back against him.

“Anytime,” she promises and means every syllable. “You can stay like that if you want,” she tells him as well, and feels his chin on her shoulder as he nods, a huffed out breath softly knocking on the bare skin of her neck. She sighs into him. Gets comfortable, pulls the laptop on her lap -can you see well?- and lets herself be entertained, relishing Sam’s laughter against her back. She smiles, because  this finally feels good. She doesn’t yearn, doesn’t look for anything more. She’s ultimately incredibly happy with where they are, with all of this warm affection. There’s no butterflies, just comfort, just love and care and tired laughter that fills her mouth with honey. The sun is in her eyes.

Not ten minutes later he shifts, stretches his legs and pulls her more comfortably against him. With gentle fingers, he pushes two strands of hair behind her ear, to the side, touch so soft she barely feels it, repositions his chin on her shoulder and breathes out calmly and Y/n shivers. He holds her securely and she, well, she dares dream, dares feel what this would be like in a different context, and while there’s a little yearning this time, to remember what it’s like to want someone and to be wanted, to know what it’s like to be Sam’s, what it’s like to be held with utter security, knowledge that you’ll never be let go of, it’s not overpowering. She feels its presence, but it feels more like an old friend than a menace. She’s content. Finally. The opposing feelings seem to tame each other.

Something close to an hour passes. They make food, some creamy pasta just to hold them over until dinner. He stirs the pot while she shows him a funny video on her phone. They eat in comfortable silence, and Y/n feels the urge to tangle her legs with his under the table, but she doesn’t, terrified she’ll push him away, ruin this bubble of comfort and naturalism by taking things a step too far. What is too far, she wonders. She’ll let him take the lead, if that means he’ll continue being this physically close to her.

Sam washes the dishes. Y/n pecks his cheek in thanks. His smile is radiant.

They stretch next to each other on her bed, scroll through their texts, send silly pictures to mutual friends. The mistake she makes is when she grabs his phone and takes a really, and she means really, ugly picture. A zillion chins, pinched eyebrows, curved lips and tongue out, hands his phone back and contemplates the consequences.

“Gimme that back, you shouldn’t have that,” decided and regretful. Sam and his noodle, twelve feet long limbs hold the phone as far from her as possible and Y/n growls and laughs, stretches, tries to grab it off him. “Sam!”

“You really think I’m gonna pass this up?” he scoffs with a grin, and she yells his name, accusatory and playful.

“Give it BACK, my face is in there! Privacy infringement!” She yells. “You should know, you’re a lawyer!”

“But you willingly saved the picture in a phone that’s not yours!” Arms stretched high, laughter booming and loud, and she scrambles.

“Your word against mine!”

“You can be seen holding the phone yourself!” She growls again, tries to pull his arm down, tickles his side and he jerks and laughs. Y/n tries to throw a leg over his to hold him down, but Sam’s too quick, too strong. They fumble, thrash, tangled limbs, throat aching full of laughter, struggling and yelling useless threats.

Sam throws the phone on the rug and huffs, visibly almost done with her, like she’s an annoying but entertaining bug. He grips her hands, her left and right in his respectively, throws his leg over her waist, twists and straddles her, hands now over her head.

Heavy breaths. They pant, stare at each other, Sam shakes his head like a dog to get his hair out of his face.

“You can’t win,” he tells her with a confident smile. She narrows her eyes.

“Have you learned nothing from this friendship?” She blows a hair away from her face and looks at him smiling. “I don’t give up that easy,” coy smile, a promise, wink sent his way, and suddenly she’s thrusting up her pelvis, trying desperately to scooch up the bed with the rest of her body, but the grip on her wrists tightens, Sam barely budging. She struggles, drags her body up, fueled by pure determination and spite, wiggles fiercely and just barely manages to get on her belly, which seems like a mistake in hindsight.

Because now her hands are crossed, he’s basically got her on a choke hold with her own forearms, and she’s eagerly trying to get her knees under her, while Sam laughs loudly at grumbled comments like “What the fuck kinda core strength do you have, fucking behemoth.” The sheets get wrinkled and pulled off the edges of her mattress, her pillows get pushed to the side, to the floor, the struggle continues and her stomach and throat hurt from all the laughter, but she really can’t seem to get the upper hand, which would be obvious if someone so much as threw a look at both of them. Sam’s six feet and two full of young, sinewy muscle, a boy- a man, really- with biceps that may not be particularly thick, but the iron grip on her wrists says something else. His hands are the size of her face. Strength is not the way she should be going about this.

She twists again, barely able to get back on her back, and she pants. The asshole looks barely winded and her eyes narrow, him raising an eyebrow challengingly. What to do, what to do?

Y/n relaxes, but Sam doesn’t. She takes a breath, grins briefly up at his momentarily confused face, then yanks her hands up the bed, making him jerk down so he can keep her under his grip and-

And she kisses him.

Nothing long or particularly sexy, just a rough push of her mouth on his, and an ‘umph’ escapes him in surprise.

Sam startles, his grip loosens, and her hands are pulled free of his hold, kicking away from him and managing a small distance apart from his warm body, knees pulled up to her chest and panting fast and loud.

Okay, it seemed smart in that moment. It really did. But for a grand total of five eternally long seconds later, her heart shrinks, diminishes to ash and dust and regret. Sam’s kaleidoscopic eyes are wide, pupils blown, and he, too, is panting.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, is all she can think, so much for not pushing his boundaries, not rushing his pace. How will you ever look in his eyes again?

“Too much?” And he blinks at her, clearly still processing. “I’m sorry, Sam, I- I didn’t mean-”

But then a hand cups her jaw, warm and big and gentle, pulls her face close to his, and his lips are there, pressed on hers. Y/n’s motionless for just a second- she’s dreamt of this for so long, over a year and a half, and it’s happening in the cheesiest way possible- and Sam is on his knees, weight rested on his other hand, reaching for her, he’s kissing her, and move, dammit, do something! A hand grips his wrist, and she pushes herself closer to him, a huff pushed out of Sam’s nose, and her stomach flips in so many stunning, wonderful ways.

Her legs fall to the side, she meets him half-way and kisses him and Sam follows just as fiercely, falls back on his haunches. His hands push under her shoulders, lift her up onto his lap, grab the back of her knees and pull them around his hips and Y/n goes willingly. She holds the sides of his face carefully and parts her lips, and Sam licks into them with caution, curls his strong arms around her waist and sighs into her mouth.

Y/n pulls away. So much for boundaries.

She blinks down at him. Sam’s eyes stay closed for a second longer, peering up at her then. He waits for her to say something. Fingers push his hair back gently, she nudges her nose with his and smiles.

“I win.” Earning a long, dramatic eye roll.

“I had you in a choke hold with your own arms, Y/n.” and her name rolls off his tongue so sweetly. She clicks her tongue.

“Yet here we are,” she whispers, looks down at him and he shakes his head with a sigh. His eyes fall  on her lips once more and he gently chews the inside of his cheek. One large paw cups the side of her head and he kisses her slowly once more before pulling away, thumbing at her cheek.

They smile.

                                                           ****

The sun has descended beneath the horizon, so early it’s kind of comical, but it doesn’t feel like it’s 6 pm anyway, because neither of them has slept at all. Time has lost meaning and form the past two days, everything feels surreal and fake because of the lack of sleep, and now here they are, under warm fairy lights, laying in her bed. There’s been kisses here and there, gently roaming hands, not moving further than that, and again, Y/n doesn’t need anything more. She’s content where she is, surprised she even made it this far. The affection they’ve shared is scarcely fierce and feral, simply quiet, tender, innate. Nothing particularly passionate or aggressive, just warmth and comfort, shielded vulnerability hidden behind brief liplocks. Y/n’s more than okay with it.

She’s laying on his chest, arm around his waist and ear over his heart and they doze together under dim lighting, limbs heavy, hearts feathery light. Sam’s arm falls around her back, pulls her close. She nuzzles his chest.

It’s just so easy to be with him. Around him.

Y/n wonders where they stand after this. If he’ll text her more. If it’ll go back to the occasional long phone call, the random outings because Madison texts him while she’s with Y/n. Will they ever be like this again? How much does she care?

Because, although somewhat pivotal for her view on affection, and tenderness and friendship, ambit stretched now, definitions altered in her mind, she feels that no real barrier has broken, shifted even. They’re still friends. They’re not partners, he’s not her boyfriend and it’s honestly fine. No, really, it is. She’s genuinely okay.

Would she like to see what it’s like to date him? Of course she would. Of course she wants to know what it feels like to know he wants her and only her, wants to know she can hold his hand, can kiss him no matter where they are or with whom, without crossing invisible boundaries tentatively like she did today. Planning dates and late night movie nights and early morning beers with shared drunken kisses.

She just wishes she knew what it’s like to have free access to this sort of affection with someone, and maybe that’s the thing. Sam feels like a good someone to have that with, but at the same time, maybe it’s what he told her on New Year’s and the way he likes to be, maybe it’s the understanding that they’re really not particularly meant to be together, cosmically in love, soulmates, whatever-the-hell, but there’s no dipping of the stomach, no heart rate accelerating, no feeling of being high or drunk. Maybe Y/n just wants someone, anyone to be with, to know she can fall for, and while Sam is warm and funny and familiar and oh so wonderful, while he looks like a great candidate to be in a relationship with, while her heart flips at the possibility of having any semblance of romance in her life, of him in her house, her couch, with her books and his warm hugs, maybe he’d been right. Maybe he knew something too painful to tell her back then, when she confessed her attraction, back when things were raw and bruised and painful to the touch. Sam and her, well… they seem good in theory. They are fun, and safe, they care for one another. They share alcohol bottles easily, common interests, kindness and heeps of love to give. They make sense in a way. But- it’s just not clicking, is it?

This is just… this. Affection for the sake of affection, not romance. And that’s okay to have, more than okay, even. It’s great. It’s comforting. It’s safe, and it’s simple. They can kiss. They can hug. They can cuddle together, and brush each other’s hair away from their faces. Y/n can admire his eyes while he cleans the dishes they ate lunch in. And it can all amount to nothing, without it feeling like band-aids being ripped off bleeding wounds without a warning.

In the words of her mother, why are human relationships so god damn complicated? Why does this one have to be too?

Y/n is content to be in his arms, to philosophically discuss, and open up and talk freely. She’s content with them giggling and wrestling and kissing in between, and they can share their music and their book quotes and their love for one another. It’s just surface level affection. If not surface level, then friendship level. Why is that not enough? Maybe not all relationships have to be tipped in the romantic pink light, and maybe, just maybe that’s okay.

She gazes up at him, rests her chin on his chest, and Sam blinks his lazy, drowsy eyelids open to look down at her sweetly, offers a small and a caress of his hand on her back. And for once, Y/n is completely satisfied with just this, and nothing more.

*****

A/N 2: I reread this and it felt like I reached a conclusion to something gigantic and cosmic, but this seems so simple.  I should know all this by now. *huff*

please tell me what you thought of this!

Forevers:

@deanxfuckingadorablexwinchester​ @deanssweetheart23​ @nostalgic-uncertainty​ @mogaruke​ @superseejay721517​ @lady-hawkguy​ @thosefeelsarereal​ @superwholockmarauder​  @justiceiswater​ @petra-arkanian-1497​ @heyitscam99​ @danijimenezv​ @aj-reuth  @unicornblood4ever @mystriee​ @sadist-fangirl23 @asguardiansoftheavengers​ @superrandomnatural​ @altosaxplayer098 @winter-moons @hunterswearingplaid​ @novaddictx​ @choosemyname​  @live-like-a-girl​ @thisismysecrethappyplace​ @bowtomytenderaddiction​  @elara98azalea​ @lemondropirwin​ @emmagolden4118​ @glitchcypher @calaofnoldor​ @paradoxical-sleep​ @narynechan @canwenotdothis​ @suicidepanda07​ @blueaura​

Sam Stuff:

@kymberlytorres​ @theboykingsamwinchester​ @depressed-moose-78 @andi-mendes-barnes​ @captainmarvelcorps​ @nerd-in-a-galaxy-far-away​ @nellachain​  @percywinchester27​

[madmadmilk]

I want to be excited about the Eternals SO BADLY but I just can't... I don't think I ever got over Endgame and what a shoddy job the MCU did with time travel and the fallout/recovery of the "blip." The concept of the blip itself irks me so much and I wish they had come up with some other explanation.

But all the mcu content lately (with the exception of tfatws) does so little to dazzle me. And I wish that wasn't the case. I want the excitement back!

OH. MY. GOD. I totally agreeeee!! I wish there was another Avengers ensemble movie to like, solidify what the fuck happened??? I feel like i still have so many questions.... like, where do we stand with "the avengers?" The movies and shows we've seen recently have only scratched the surface...

like,, I'm so happy and excited that the MCU is expanding, but yeah i still feel like there are a few loose threads...

I'm gonna list some thoughts below lol (spoilers ahead!)

Spider-Man: Far From Home (movie)– obviously, we were anxious for a "first look" of what the state of the world was like... but i think they glossed over it too quickly? It was like, the whole world (and peter) mourned FOR iron-man, rather than the lives they lost etc. etc. It was a little bit too rosy, in terms of the world at large. We did kind of get to see Peter stand alone, but not quite. It hints at a bigger multiverse, but ya that doesn't wrap up the one we are already in

WandaVision (Series) - yeah, this was kind of an individual experience, so we didn't really get to learn much about the state of the world. we do know that they picked up vision and just did whatever the fuck they wanted with his body???? meaning??? they either took him when everyone snapped (so the OG6 avengers just let them do that??) OR they waited till tony?? died to take him?? WHAT??????????? i do appreciate that they emphasized her grief, it was cathartic and welcome esp. since i still hadn't gotten over what we lost in endgame.

The Falcon and The Winter Soldier (series) - NOW we're getting into it. they introduced soooo many new topics, issues of race in the MCU, more corrupt governments, displaced peoples from The Blip, and the fact that The Avengers can't even get a fuckin' loan??? (much less other people??) i appreciate seeing how fucked the world is... i don't want it to come together easily. I'm glad to see Sam take Captain America's title and that he is a new and refreshing model for hope. It just feels good lol. THAT BEING SAID–... i'm a little frustrated that they didn't talk about steve's predicament?? like, i just want to know more idk

Black Widow (movie)- uhhhh..... i don't think this will show us much about the current affairs of the world. all i hope is that we see a fucking funeral or memorial to her, cos she's the one who held The Avengers together through the blip?????? hello?????

Loki (series) - I'm pretty sure they're going to rewrite how time travel works with this series. we may get more clarification?? on how it works, but i doubt it'll change anything retrospectively???????? But also this reiterates that Loki, and Gamora are not the same people that we've grown to know. They're the older versions and that is SO. SAD. lol. but we'll see!

Shang-Chi (movie) - hmm it will tie in some places we learned about from TFATWS, but i'm not sure what they'd address about The Blip?? I am excited to watch this and learn more thoooo

Eternals (movie) - LMAO THEY REALLY JUST LET HUMANS DO WHATEVER THEY WANTED, AND THEN THEY LET THEM BE THE ONLY PPL WHO STOOD BETWEEN THANOS AND MASS GENOCIDE AHHAHA (idk much about them, so pls don't spoil anything from the comics). lmao i kinda love how smug they might be about it hahhaha i bet some of them got snapped away and they were like :o....... SHIT. interested to see this new genre/style in the MCU tho! so looking forward to it!!

Yeah, i would say that...... i'm always excited for the new films, but..... i do wish certain things were addressed. Like steve fucking up timelines and leaving everyone behind, what happens to stark industries now?, funeral for nat...., hawkeye? who?, i hate what they did to the hulk......, new asgard?, how is cassie that old now???.... ect.....

let me know what you guys still have questions about lmaoooo

[staticscreenwriting]

The loneliest time of the year || Part one

Part 1 of 4

Summary: With a broken heart and the fear of having failed as a father, Frankie returns to his parents house for Christmas. What is supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year feels quite lonely. Though when an old friend shows up unexpectedly with her young son in tow, Frankie’s Christmas seems to gain a little more happiness. Can they help each other fight the ghosts of their pasts and overcome their fears ? A/N: This is part of my 12 days of Christmas / Advent special. Every sunday leading up to Christmas you will get another part. That’s 4 parts in total. Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. 

[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]

Christmas time is the most depressing time of the year. Seriously, you can look that up. There’s a bunch of statistics about it and essays using long fancy words.

It’s a time that makes you so acutely aware of how lonely you actually are. And then you’re left to reflect on all the reasons why and that’s just fucking depressing. 

Frankie maneuvers his car along the streets of his hometown, a light dusting of snow covers the ground and the trees to his left and right have long sharp icicles hanging from their branches like the sharp teeth of an imaginary monster that lives under your bed. 

He passes by the old movie theatre, the 7/11, the diner where he got his first kiss, the red brick building that was once a printing house but has been turned into a Starbucks for some reason, and the public library that he used to volunteer at when he was in high school. There are ghosts in all the windows looking back at him. Ghosts of the boy he used to be and the memories he thought long forgotten.

This wasn’t the plan. He’s not supposed to be here. Or maybe he is. Maybe this is exactly what he deserves. To come crawling back home to mom and dad because the future he had tried so hard to build for himself came crumbling down on him in a matter of moments. And all of it is entirely his own fucking fault. If only he wasn’t such a damn mess.

“I'll have a blue Christmas without you

I'll be so blue just thinking about you.”

“Ah fuck off, Elvis!”

He turns off the radio and is left with just the quiet and his thoughts until the little blue house at the end of a cul-de-sac comes into view. This house has seen many versions of Frankie. Highs and lows. He wonders if he even knows the person he is anymore. 

Across the street sits a park and then another little house, this is one red and the shutters are white and the paint is chipping. It used to sit empty for a while but there’s a car in the driveway and light coming from inside. Maybe he was wrong, maybe he isn’t the only one that changed, maybe the town did a little bit of changing too. 

His mom is a hugger, always has been. Still is. At least that hasn’t changed. She has him wrapped in a warm big hug as soon as he gets out of the car. She smells the same way she did when he was a little boy. Like lavender and fresh cotton and warmth. His mom, Frankie thinks, has the ability to talk faster than anyone else he knows. Even faster than Pope when he’s drunk. She bombards him with information about various distant relatives and has him caught up on the last several years of their lives before his dad even manages to get to the door. 

His dad looks older than the last time Frankie has seen him, but not in a fragile way. Age doesn’t make his dad look sickly or weak, it just makes him look wise. He’s got lines etched into the skin around his lips, from all the laughter and the smiles. Every adventure, every memory, it’s all there in his face and Frankie admires that so much. With every day passing he himself just looks sadder and more worn out. 

“Darling, let him come inside. It’s freezing out here.”

Ever since he was little, Frankie knew that what his parents have was special. There was so much love in the way they talked with each other. It exuded from every word. From every look. They were a package deal. One could simply not be without the other. It’s something he knew most of his family members were envious of. Hell, he himself was envious of it. 

“Hey Pops, good to see you.”

His dad wraps him in a hug as he steps into the warm house. His dad isn’t a hugger, he’s more stoic and calm but that doesn’t make him any less loving. There was never a day in his life, that Frankie ever doubted his father’s love for him. It’s just that he’s not the most physically affectionate guy, and that’s fine. When he does give out hugs, they are the best.

“Did the Murphy’s house get sold then?” Frankie questions, motioning over his shoulder towards the little red house. The couple who lived there, Margaret and Edwin, were lovely. They were the kind of old people that others just adore. Always a smile on their faces, always greeting you with the most infectious of good moods. They were already old when Frankie was a kid, but they were the kind of people you’d expect to live forever. Though death doesn’t care for any of that and eventually it came for them too. The house went to their only son, a man that always intrigued Frankie. Michael was a photographer and always on the road looking for a new adventure. He was his parents' age but there was a youth about him that made him look much younger. He always seemed like more of a friend or older brother to his daughter than a father. 

His daughter. (Y/N) and Frankie weren’t friends. Not really. For that, they didn’t spend nearly enough time with each other. But whenever she would come around and spend the summers at her grandparents' place, Frankie and her would gravitate towards each other. There was an undeniable attraction, a magnetic pull. She always had the most exciting stories and for a teenage boy, there was nothing more exciting than a pretty girl with adventure in her veins.

He hasn’t seen her for a long time though, eventually, she went off to college and he joined the military. She came around less and less and then when first Edwin and then Margaret died, the house stayed quiet and lonely. Last time he saw (Y/N) was when he randomly ran into her at a bar but even that must’ve been at least 10, maybe 12 years ago.

“Oh no. Their son, Michael, do you remember him?”

“Sure.”

“He had a bad accident. Can’t work no more, needs a lot of help. You know what he was like, always on the road never really having a place he called home. Other than this house. So him and his daughter are back here. Do you remember her?“

“ (Y/N), yeah.”

“She’s moved back too. Gave up her entire life to help her father. Poor thing now works at the diner waiting tables for a living all the while taking care of Michael and her young son.”

“She has a kid?”

A sting of pain runs through his heart. Big brown eyes stare up at him in his mind, eyes that look so much like his. Eyes he couldn’t wait to see sparkling from joy on Christmas morning. Eyes he ain’t allowed to look into anytime soon.

“Yes, a little boy. Leo, he’s 7 years old. So well behaved and smart. Such a lovely little boy.”

A warm mug of coffee is thrust into Frankie’s hand as his father guides him to sit down on the big couch in the living room that’s been there ever since he was a kid. 

“We invited them to come around for Christmas Eve dinner which reminds me that I still need to get a present for the boy.”

“Darling, it’s December 5th we still got time.”

Despite his heart laying in shambles by his feet, being around his parents sends a warmth through Frankie. It’s so familiar and comforting to be here. Maybe this isn’t all bad. Maybe this is exactly what he needs. 

On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me: One sweet reunion.

Frankie sits on his old bed in his old room. There are fewer posters there and the wall that used to be painted a dark blue is now a soft peach color. The old dark wood furniture has been replaced by white cupboards and two beds, both white too. An adult-sized bed for him and a toddler bed for Rosie. Little butterfly decals decorate the walls and soft pink curtains hang before the window. This is more Rosie’s room that’s his now, only she isn’t here to see it. 

A knock on the door shakes him from his daydream. Voices echo through the halls and up the stairs. Voices he doesn’t recognize but by the tone in his mother’s words, he can tell they’re friendly faces.

“So we thought maybe we could borrow your car.”

Frankie sees her before she sees him. Had he not knows she was in town, maybe he wouldn’t have recognized her. (Y/N) looks older. Not old. Just more mature. She must be in her 30s now. Grown into her body. A mother.

“Of course dear, Frankie can help you get the tree if you want. We still need one ourselves anyway. Two birds one stone.”

“Frankie is home?” 

(Y/N)’s voice shines with a glimmer of hope. 

“I am.”

A smile spreads on her face, and that one he recognizes so well. It’s equal parts mischievous and warm. Familiar and comforting. Sassy and soft. 

“Oh man, it’s so good to see you. It’s been some time, huh ?”

“Sure has,” he replies and the two of them share a quick hug. She’s cold from the air outside and smells like winter and snow. Her hair is hidden beneath a beanie and her fingers are kept warm by some fluffy blue mittens. She’s adorable. So fucking adorable.

“So, you want help getting your Christmas tree?” Frankie asks as she pulls away, missing the softness she brought.

“Well actually I was just asking to use your dad’s car but since you’re here, would you mind helping out ?”

“ Course not! We need a tree anyway and I’ll have you know, I’m great at finding the best Christmas trees.”

“That so?”

“Sure is.”

Another big smile spreads on (Y/N)’s lips. “Okay cool. Let me know when you’re ready. Leo and I are free all day.”

“That’s right, you have a kid now.”

There’s an infinite sense of pride that washes over her face. He knows the feeling, sees it in his own mother when she talks about him. Feels it in his heart when he thinks of Rosie.

“Frankie has a baby too, little girl.”

His mother means well. Doesn’t matter though, the mention of her still sends a pant of pain through him. Right to his heart and then it spreads slowly but surely to the rest of his body. Like an ice pick melting slowly.

“You do? Oh, I can’t wait to meet her.”

His heart breaks. Shatters. Crumbles. 

“She’s uh — she’s with her mom for Christmas.” And pretty much any other day too.

“Huh, well I guess you’ll just have to tell me all about her then. “ 

He appreciates this. Her not asking but just taking the situation for what it is. Questions ask for answers he can’t give, doesn’t want to give.

“I can do that.”

“Okay great. Let me bother you no longer, just come knock on our door when you’re ready. You know where I live.”

With a wave and a smile, she makes her exit and steps back into the cold. Snow now falling in big white flakes from the skies, like big bubbles of soap. Like star fragments.

“She’s such a nice young woman, I wish life was a bit more gentle on her. “ his mom spoke up from beside Frankie. 

“Yeah. Yeah, me too mom. Me too.”

When he steps out of the house a few hours later, the ground is already covered in a thick coat of fluffy snow. His boots leave deep prints in the pristine white blanket. 

Across the street, he can hear a melody of laughter flowing through the air before two figures jump out from behind the house, wrapped in warm clothes, throwing snowballs at each other.

“Mom you’re cheating!” The young boy, Leo calls out, laughter ringing along with his words.

“No way! Nu-uh.”

“Yu-uh! “

The exchange puts a smile on Frankie’s face. It reminds him of his own childhood. When the world didn’t feel like it was working against him. When it was kind. When things were easy. When he was happy.

Realizing neither of the two has spotted him yet, Frankie squats down and gathers some snow in his glove covered hands. In a swift motion, he pulls his arm back and throws the snow in (Y/N)’s direction hitting her right in between her shoulders. 

“Hey!”

There’s a second where anger and confusion reign over her face and then she realizes it’s Frankie who threw the snowball and it melts into warmth and mischief.

“I’ll get you back for that, dude. “

“That a threat?”

“Nah, it’s a promise.”

The boy regards them with careful curiosity. 

“Leo, come here. This is my friend Frankie.”

To be quite honest, Frankie hadn’t really considered himself a friend of (Y/N) but to hear her introduce him as such felt real nice. He had friends, good friends, brothers even. Pope and the Millers knew him like the knee themselves but this was different. This was home.

“Frankie, this is my son Leo.”

The boy is all (Y/N). Same smile, same eyes. Like a copy and paste.

“Hey, Leo, nice to meet you.”

The boy gives him a shy wave. “Hi.”

“You guys ready to get some Christmas trees?” Frankie asked, looking from (Y/N) to Leo and back to her. The excitement on their faces makes him feel a little giddy. 

Back when he was a kid, buying a tree was one of his favorite things to do during Christmas season. His dad always used to wake him up real early so they could be one of the first people at the Christmas tree sale. They’d stay for hours looking for the perfect tree. Now perfect didn’t mean it had to be actually immaculate. Perfect meant perfect for them. Sometimes they’d decide to find the fastest one or the one with the biggest hole. One time they found one with a bird's nest still inside. 

Those were the good times and Frankie, knowing now how harsh life can be, will never take them for granted.

On the second day of Christmas my true love gave to me: Two perfectly imperfect Christmas trees.

“Too big.”

“Too small.”

“I can literally count the branches on one hand.”

(Y/N), Frankie realizes as they look at what feels like the 12 millionth tree, is very particular when it comes to her Christmas trees. 

“Mom, can we just pick one? They’re all good!” Leo chimes up as his mother dismisses yet another tree for being too skinny.

“I just want it to be perfect. When I was a little girl my dad and I were always traveling and when we’d come to my grandparents for Christmas they’d have this big beautiful tree every year. I want my dad to have that again.”

There’s more there, he can tell. By the way, her voice shakes slightly and the determination and chaos raging in her eyes. Frankie has yet to find out what exactly happened to her dad, what kind of accident he got in. But it’s not really a conversation starter now, is it?

Leo’s eyes meet Frankie's, a clear message traveling between them. A silent understanding. 

“Look (Y/N) how about we let you roam this place in peace until you’ve found the perfect tree and Leo and I go see if we can find one for my parents? “

Leo nods his head in enthusiastic approval. A smile playing on his lips that is so strikingly similar to the one Frankie has seen so many times on the boy's mother.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, two of us are gonna find a perfectly imperfect tree for my folks and you go find the tree of your dreams. Just call if you need us, okay?”

She takes a breath, lets out a sigh. “Okay sounds good. Leo?”

“Sounds good to me too, mom.”

“Okay. Well, you boys have fun then.”

As she rounds the corner in search of the tree straight from a Christmas fairytale, Frankie turns to Leo who regards him with a guarded kindness.

“Thank you. “

“ For what? “ Frankie asks and raises his eyebrow in confusion.

“ For not making fun of my mommy. She’s so worried about grandpa, sometimes she goes a bit crazy.” 

“ Nah she’s not crazy. She just wants to make everyone happy. Why would I make fun of her? Did someone make fun of her? “ 

It sends a flash of anger through him, the idea that someone might ridicule her for caring too much. If anything it’s what makes her so endearing. The world could do with more people like her. People who care. Deeply. 

“ She talked to my daddy on the phone yesterday. I think he made fun of her. She cried. “ 

“ That’s — that’s not nice.” 

Leo shrugs his shoulders in a way that seems casual but weary. As if he’s so used to it. Geez, the kid is 7. This isn’t something he should be used to.

“ Dad is not a nice person. Mama always says he’s busy and that he wants to see me but I don’t think that’s right. I think mama just doesn’t want me to be sad. I think daddy doesn’t really want to see me. Don’t think he loves me. But that’s okay mama loves me so much that’s enough. “

Leo’s words sent small cracks to Frankie’s heart and it’s quite hard not to let it crumble entirely. He’s never known what it feels like to be unloved by those that are meant to love you most. His parents adored him, still do. Even when he doesn’t deserve it. He can’t even begin to understand how much that must hurt. How devastating it must be, especially to a 7-year-old. 

And yet Leo looks so — at peace. Like it bothers him sure, but it’s no big deal really.

Because he is loved either way. By (Y/N).

“ You’re a cool kid, you know that? “ Frankie asks and pats the young boy’s back in a friendly manner.

“ Mom says so. “ 

“ Well, she’s completely right. You really are. Now, you wanna help me find a tree? “ 

Leo nods enthusiastically.

“ Okay cool, but I’ll have to tell you how it works. “ 

“ We don’t just look for one we like?”

“ Oh no, you see the Morales family has a very specific tradition. Each year my dad and I go looking for a special tree. “ 

“ A special one? “ 

“ Mmmh. We always think of something special and then try to find a tree that fits that special thing. One time we tried to find the tallest tree on the lot or the widest or the skinniest. “

“ So what are we looking for this year? “

“ How abouuut … we look for one that has two tops? “ 

A giggle falls from Leo’s lips. “ That’s silly, that’s not a thing. “ 

“ Sure it is. You wanna go look for it? “ 

“ Yeah.”

There are big trees and small ones. Ones in shades of greens and some that look almost blue. There are fat ones with lots of branches and skinny ones that look like they’ve seen better days. None of them have two peaks though — until … 

“ Frankie, look !” 

His small, glove-covered hand is outstretched, pointing towards a tree before him. It’s a big tree, wide too. It’s blueish green color shines through the white haze of the winter's day. 

And true to Leo’s words, the stem of the tree goes halfway up before it diverges into two different branches. Two tops.

“ That one’s perfect! “

“ He’s special! “ 

“ He is special. Good job, kid. “ 

The two share a high 5 as a laugh sounds from behind them.

“ I see you boys are getting along well. “ (Y/N) says as she approaches the two of them, placing a kiss on her son’s head as she reaches him.

“ We found a special tree, mom.”

“ Did you? Well so did I, it’s perfect. “ 

Her eyes wander towards Frankie’s and for a second it’s only the two of them there, veiled in shared understanding, a silent thank you. 

“ I’m glad you found your tree, (Y/N). “ 

“ I’m glad you two had fun. Now hooow about we get those trees home and set up? “ 

“ Can we have hot cocoa at home, momma? “ 

“ Duh. Of course. You can’t decorate a Christmas tree without a good hot cup of cocoa.” 

The softness in her voice, the pure adoration she holds for this boy, it makes Frankie think back to Leo’s words about his father and about (Y/N). About how she loves him enough for the both of them. And he can see it, clear as day. Her love for Leo. 

Those two, he thinks, don’t need anyone. Especially not someone who doesn’t treat them with the love and respect they deserve. Those two are their own warmth, their own little universe. And it’s enough. It’s plenty. Everyone who’s allowed to be a part of their little world should be grateful because it’s a good world. It’s gentle and kind. 

“ Alright you two, let’s get those trees home. “ Frankie pipes up and for a moment he is part of their little universe too. And it’s wonderful. He doesn’t wanna let go of this feeling. How anyone ever could is entirely beyond him.

On the third day of Christmas my true love gave to me: Three mugs of cocoa.

Bobby Helms’ voice echoes through the room accompanied by the soothing crack of a vinyl record. It’s an old one, one (Y/N) has found in a box of her grandparent’s stuff. Jingle Bell rock fills the air with a sense of excitement and wonder only a good old Christmas song can bring.

There are 3 cups of cocoa on the table, one of them in a Star Wars mug. It all feels warm and cozy. Homey. And for the first time since he’s back, Frankie doesn’t feel out of place. He doesn’t feel like a stranger watching through the window into someone else's life. Someone familiar. Someone he once knew. Someone he once was.

Right now he feels like he’s right where he’s meant to be. With friends who chose him. A family that lets him into their lives and willingly shares a piece of their kindness and warmth and magic with him. Not because they are bound to him by blood, by shared trauma. Just because they like him, as he is.

(Y/N) and Frankie sit on the old leather couch that’s been there in this same living room for so many years. One that has seen different versions of (Y/N). Some of him too.

In the corner of the room, across from the big window leading out into a snowy dreamland, stands a perfect Christmas tree. (Y/N)’s perfect tree. It’s decked out in lights and ornaments and tinsel. Leo hops around the tree, adding yet more ornaments here and more tinsel there, a big smile on his face the entire time.

And as she watches her son relish in the pure unfiltered joy only a child really knows, (Y/N) smiles too. Because sometimes this is what it means to be happy, seeing your loved ones smiling. 

“ Thank you, Frankie. “ she says, eyes still locked on her son. 

“ For what? “ 

It’s the second time that day that he is being thanked and for what? For being there? Really he hasn’t done much. This is what friends do, isn’t it? What they should do. Help each other out. Be there for one another. 

“ For playing along with my crazy antics. I know it’s just a tree but I just want this Christmas to be — to be good. For me and for Leo and for my dad. We haven’t had the best year and I just want to make this perfect for us. Or as perfect as possible. Thanks for not letting me see how annoying I was back at the tree sale. “

Frankie shakes his head dismissively. “ You weren’t being annoying. I get it, don’t worry. Leo, he uh — he said something similar to me earlier. Said his dad made fun of you? Made you cry. “ 

(Y/N) lets out a scoff, curls her lips in an unamused smirk. “ Derek’s a — “ her eyes trail towards her son who pays the two adults no mind “ — he’s such a dick. Always has been. But he was suave and he had a motorcycle and I just kind of fell for his bad-boy charms. He’s unreliable though and a goddamn child. When I told him about Leo he bailed on us. Sometimes he tries to be a dad, whenever he gets one of his moods and feels like he needs to turn his life around. Those don’t last very long though. He sends birthday gifts and Christmas presents and he calls every once in a while but — well his interest in Leo isn’t all that big. “ 

“ What an asshole. Why’d he make you cry? “ 

“ Ugh, it wasn’t really any particular thing, just an amalgamation of so many. He was making me feel stupid because of the tree thing. He was being dismissive of my feelings. He didn’t want to talk to Leo. It was just his entire mood that day that once again made me realize why I ended things with him in the first place. And it isn’t fair. It really isn’t. That I have to work twice as hard to be a good parent because I have to fill both roles and he gets off scot-free. Not even a guilty conscience. How am I ever gonna be able to play both roles and play them well? How can I do that? I feel like I am failing already. “ 

“ Are you kidding me? “ Frankie says and softly nudges her shoulder with his “ You’re a great mother. You’re fun, you’re loving. What else could Leo want? (Y/N) you are doing an incredible job, trust me. Little mistakes you make that might seem big to you, they really don’t matter to Leo. Not now and especially not in the long run. He’s gonna remember the good times. The snowball fights and the hot cocoa and the tree decorating. Those are the little moments that will become memories. “ 

“ You think so ? “ 

“ I know so. It’s what I remember about my childhood. And it’s uh — it’s what Leo told me. He said that his dad might not be around but that it doesn’t matter because you love him twice as much. Said that’s plenty enough. The boy loves you. You’re a wonderful mom. “

He forbids his mind from going to that dark corner where he’s banished all his own fears. Those that whisper to him in quiet moments. About how his shortcomings, his mistakes, his faults, how all of that will stain his relationship with Rosie. His ability to be a good father. 

Lord knows he wishes his daughter was here now. Maybe not in this exact moment, a toddler really ain’t much help when setting up a tree. But here. In his arms. With him. During Christmas time. He fears that she never will be. That the times he gets to see her will become few and far between. That he will one day only be a distant memory to her because he ain’t ever given the chance to make any good ones with her.

His heart aches from how much he misses his little girl at that moment. But he has to remind himself not to wallow in it. Because once he goes there, lets himself fall into this big black hole of grief and of missing and of fear, there’s no coming back.

So he looks back at the people around him, at their soft smiles and the Christmas lights reflected in their eyes. Shining with happiness. Shining with joy.

And as the snow falls softly outside, he tries to focus on the warmth in this room. The warmth from the fire and from the hearts so soft and so filled with love. 

Because he’d rather get lost in a beautiful dream than the sad reality of his fears. 

[bottleofspilledink]

God’s Watching, Put on a Show || Chapter IX

“So…” Eve began, staring at the various stands and stalls and tables with all sorts of different agendas, occasionally shifting her gaze to the people who would weave between it all.

In every sense of the word, today was, for lack of a better word, eventful.

This was most likely why, when they were gathered in the gymnasium for club sign-ups, the pair simply stood amidst the somewhat organized chaos, clueless.

“What now?” Eve pulled out the club sign-up form from her skirt pocket, thankful she hadn’t lost it in all the ruckus. “My offer still stands, I really don’t mind letting you pick the club we join.”

“I mean. I already told you earlier that I don’t really care what club we go to either way.” Lilith shrugged. She wasn’t trying to sound apathetic, but she couldn’t really remember the last time she enjoyed club time solely for it’s activities and not the friends she would do them with. “You pick.”

“Alright, we’re not gonna get anywhere with this, so how about a compromise?”

“I’m listening,” Lilith chuckled. Of course Eve would be the type to suggest something like that.

The girl in question blushed at the sound, but fought to gather her thoughts and continue.

“You can tell me the clubs you don’t like and I’ll do the same. After we narrow down the list, we can settle on a club that we both like, or at least a club that on of us can tolerate.”

“Okay, but let me tell you now, there are a lot of clubs I don’t like.”

It was Eve’s turn to laugh, her hand automatically coming to cover her mouth as she grinned and giggled.

“Tell me anyway.”

“No music club,” Lilith said, right off the bat. “I’m a mediocre singer and I don’t want to spend two or three hours a week singing hymns.”

“Reasonable enough.” Eve recalled being given a small flier when they entered, the colourful paper listing all available clubs and emptied her pockets once more in search of it before crossing out the words “music club” with a pen she had found while looking for the paper. “Anything else?”

“No home economics. You know why.”

Eve just nodded an drew a line across it.

She was doing this to make up for what she did, not draw attention to it.

“And lastly,” Lilith said, voice tinted with humor as she tried to lighten the mood, somewhat guilty when she saw Eve’s face fall when she mentioned home economics, “no math club. ‘Cause I’m not a nerd.”

The girl succeeded, getting a tiny, genuine laugh from Eve that made her heart flutter like a hummingbird’s wing whenever it graced her ears.

“It’s fine, I’m bad at math too.”

Lilith visibly perked up at the words, the teasing grin Eve had so missed making a comeback at long last, “I never said I was bad at math. I’m pretty good at it, actually. I just don’t like doing it more than I have to.”

“Really?” Eve joked, displaying a mock-disbelief. Lilith was no idiot, though judging by her work ethic when it came to CLE, Eve couldn’t help but make a few assumptions. “What score did you get on the practice test a few days ago then?”

“Ninety-four percent.”

At that Eve’s eyes grew wide as saucers. That was better than she had gotten, and, more surprisingly, it was better than what Mary had gotten, ninety percent, an A minus that paled in comparison to Lilith’s A.

“Oh. That’s neat.” What could she say in response to that?

Fortunately, she didn’t have to struggle to say more, as Lilith returned the question to her.

“What did you get on the test.” Lilith wasn’t the type to gloat, at least not to a person she liked, but the thought of Eve thinking her a fool or a failure wasn’t the kind of image she wanted to project either.

“Eighty-seven…” She stared at the floor in shame, suddenly enamored in the scuff marks a muddy sneaker had left on the floor, shame flooding her face in the form of blood, her cheeks taking on a soft pink for different reasons now. Who could have left this here? A student who had forgotten to clean the soles of her shoes? A janitor, maybe?

Lilith couldn’t help but melt at the sight, immediately speaking to comfort the girl.

“Hey, come on. There’s no need to be embarrassed, that’s a pretty good grade, especially coming from someone who says they’re bad at math!” She clasped Eve’s shoulder and gave a gentle, encouraging squeeze, trying to get her to look up from the floor. “That’s like, what, a solid B? A B plus even?”

When that didn’t work, she slid her hand down to Eve’s and ran the pad of her thumb over the soft skin before giving another, more tender squeeze. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to embarrass you when I asked that. If you want, I can help you review for the next test?” She put on a smile and tried to sound optimistic, mind running a mile a minute as she tried to figure out what to say next.

“There’s always room for improvement!” Lilith said, stealing one of Paula’s lines in the rare occasion that Joan flubbed a test or lost a game. She’d have to thank her for that later.

Meanwhile, Eve hoped that Lilith wouldn’t be able to feel her pulse through her wrist, the pink hue her face took on having faded, only to return with a vengeance when Lilith opted to hold her hand, the way the girl soothed her thumb over her knuckles nearly sending her into cardiac arrest, the momentary squeeze stealing the air from her lungs and running for the hills, if only for an instant before she mustered up enough breath to speak.

“You’d really do that? Or are you just saying that to make me feel better?”

“Are you kidding me?” Lilith grinned, incredulous. “Of course I’d help! With a score like that, there isn’t even all that much to do.”

The way Eve looked at her when she said those words, amber eyes adoring and brimming with marvel as it were, Lilith couldn’t bring herself to look away, it was like she was lost and slowly, willingly sinking into the entrancing, honeyed hue that was Eve’s eyes.

She could hardly handle being the subject of the girl’s gratitude-filled gaze, her heart clenching tenderly when Eve smiled at her, because of her, soft and sweet, dimples appearing on her rosy cheeks, unaware of the near-painful longing that welled up in Lilith’s chest.

In the split second silence, Lilith wondered whether it was for better or worse that Eve didn’t know how her heart ached whenever she made her smile, knowing that Eve, kind person she was, would never want to hurt her, even in the most gentle way, the soft tightening of her chest Lilith herself would sometimes even long for.

“Anyway,” Eve said, breaking the quiet that had settled over them, “I really can’t join the art club, so that’s out of the question. My drawing skills are literally non-existent.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah! The best I can do are stick figures, bee doodles, and really loopy flowers.”

They scratched that off the list and began roaming around, Eve unsure of what clubs were a hard no for her but wanting to narrow down the list further.

“Oh, definitely no debate club.” She said out the moment she saw their stand, stopwatch, hardwood podium and all.

“Okay, but why?” Lilith took the list from her and crossed it out, skimming over it in search of clubs the both of them could enjoy.

“They’re sca-“

“Lilith!”

A girl with shoulder-length black hair swishing slightly with every step came up from behind them and hugged Lilith with a fierce grip, nearly making the both of them fall to the ground in the process, her long-suffering partner, local gossip girl, Margaret, merely trailing a few paces behind her, not wanting to be associated with the girl who managed to make at least eleven heads turn towards them.

“Joan told me everything this morning. Where is she?” The girl let go, swinging her head around frantically and craning her neck in an exaggerated search. “I’m gonna beat this chick’s ass if it’s the last thing I do!”

Finally, Margaret came closer and tried to put a stop to whatever was unfolding. “Swearing is against the rules, Julia. I can report you for that.”

The girl, Julia, apparently, turned to look at her partner, joyful demeanor fading in an instant.

“So is make-up and cheating, but you don’t see me yapping about it, do you?”

That shut Margaret up effectively, cheeks probably red with indignance under her foundation.

“Anyway, where is the bitch? I’ll-“

“Okay, before you finish that sentence, I think you should know that the girl you’re calling a bitch is right beside me. Right now.” Lilith said, grabbing her by the shoulders and making her face Eve.

Julia looked at her.

She looked at Julia.

“Hi.”

“Oh shit. Hey…” They stared at each other, a split second of tension filled silence passing between them. “I’m not taking back what I said though, you’re a bitch. I mean seriously, I get not being gay but did you have to- OW!”

Lilith’s elbow met Julia’s rib, harshly.

“When did Joan say all this?” She sighed. The last thing she needed right now was someone making Eve feel worse after everything that happened today, especially now that they were just starting to patch things up and talk free of any awkwardness.

“I already told you, she said all that this morning. We sat next to each other in CLE and passed notes while Sister Jane wasn’t looking.”

“Julia, you’re fucking nuts and I love you for that,” Lilith sighed again, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration, “but now is really not the time. Go ask Joan or Paula to catch you up on things, they should be around here somewhere. We’re busy looking for a club. Until they tell you what happened earlier, you can not call Eve anything except Eve.”

“Oh wow, okay. I must have missed something big if you’re defending the girl who made you sob so hard, you almost-”

“The details aren’t important! Besides, you weren’t there, so you don’t know what happened.”

Julia raised a brow at the girl, shutting up to help her save face, but going in for one last tease before she went looking for Paula to see the whole picture, “I literally just said that Joan told me everything, but okay.” She put her hands up in a sort of surrender. “Say what you want, babe! I’ll get the truth out of you the next time we get wasted anyways, so yeah!” And with that she turned to leave before, rather impulsively, Eve called out to her.

“What club did you join?”

“You’re really gonna look at me and not immediately assume I’m in the softball club? You offend me, Eve. I mean really! You know what they say about softball. It’s the sport of my people!”

The blonde merely stood in silence, absolutely dumbfounded, mouth opening and closing like a fish yet not a syllable leaving her lips.

Julia cackled, tossing her head back and ruffling her soft curls. “Oh God, she doesn’t know?” She asked Lilith, her eyebrows raised so far up that no one watching would be surprised if they receded even further back to join the hair on her head. “You really know how to pick ‘em, sweetheart!”

She walked away, giggling and giving them – well, more Lilith than Eve – finger guns all the while.

“Okay, I’m just going to ask. What was that whole thing about softball about?”

At this, Lilith herself couldn’t help but laugh. “Basically, it’s kinda a stereotype that, and this isn’t a thing we made up, lesbians play softball.”

Eve’s look of confusion turned to bafflement turned to a somewhat exasperated and incredulous amusement. “That makes no sense, but I’m going with it anyway. How did that even start?”

“I actually don’t know, but we went along with it too, cause why the fuck not? You know?” Lilith shrugged and they continued walking again. “There’s probably a bit of truth in there somewhere. It’s how Joan and Paula got together, so there’s that! And Julia has an ex that used to be a member.”

Eve took the list back from her while she was distracted, eyes quickly scanning over it to see if Lilith had crossed anything out while it was in her possession. “I’m assuming there’s a story behind that?”

“Yup!” She snatched the flier away from Eve once more, holding it high above her head when the girl tried to get it again. “But not one you get to hear. Not yet.”

She huffed at that. Eve, despite already standing on her toes, the four inch height difference between them made it so she couldn’t get the list back from Lilith.

“Okay then. But one last question.”

“Yeah?”

“Sweetheart? Babe?” Eve asked, a twinge of jealousy in her. Granted, she had no right to be, at least in her own mind she didn’t. She wasn’t even supposed to be feeling anything for Lilith other than disdain, but what could she do? Her only consolation was the fact she’d yet to act on said emotions.

Technically.

Eve tried to justify what she could, mind jumping from hoop to hoop, connecting loose strings, drawing lines between dots that were barely there. Earlier wasn’t anything akin to love. It was just a friend taking care of a friend.

Yes.

“Oh, that? Yeah, Julia calls everyone that, really. It’s nothing personal.” Lilith felt delusional. Were her feeling for Eve so strong as to warp her mind and affect her hearing, going so far as to imagine Eve’s voice with a pang of envy. “If you get on her good side, she’ll probably call you something too. Not what she called you earlier, though.”

A wave of relief washed over the blonde… followed immediately by guilt for feeling said relief.

It was nothing another round of mental gymnastics couldn’t fix.

The only reason she was relieved was because Lilith not being in a relationship meant that she wasn’t beyond saving.

Of course.

“I hope so, too.” Eve said. They turned to walk down a different aisle, about forty-five minutes left for them to find and join a club.

The pair strolled between stalls leisurely, narrowing down the list bit by bit, encircling the ones they had taken a particular liking to, chatting about clubs.

“The gardening club seems cool.” Lilith suggested, looking at their small stall decorated with small, origami flowers, the girls who ran it not having the heart to pluck what they had grown just yet. “It’s outside so I get some fresh air and it’s no sport, so you won’t have to strain yourself like you did in gym. Whaddya think of it?”

She looked over at Eve, only to see her frowning, a mix of disappointment and contempt in her eyes.

“I’d love to join, but I’m not allowed. My mom doesn’t like me gardening.” Her frown turned into a pout, eyes growing glassy with frustrated tears that had been building up for nearly a decade now. “She made me stop when I was eight because my hands were getting rough…”

“Use me.”

“What?”

“Use me as an excuse. Tell her I made you join it.”

Her words were temptation, the apple offered to Eve by the serpent.

Lilith held the sign-up slip and the red pen out to her, the folded paper an open invitation to rebellion. She wouldn’t force Eve, however, wanting this decision, this sin, to be hers and hers alone, the girl refusing to even write her own name on the paper.

Eve could feel the fifth commandment ringing in her ears, as the Eve before her knew she was defying god.

“Honour thy father and thy mother.”

And yet, Eve could also feel the dirt between her fingers and under her nails, the weight of a trowel in her hands, the sun beating on her back through the gaps in the leaves of their oak tree, the scent of the earth and the flowers carried by the breeze.

The nagging voice in her ears faded and morphed to the gentle buzzing of the bees and the high-pitched chirping of the birds.

Eve took the form and filled it up.

Eve took the apple and ate of it.

______________________________

Taglist: @anon-nom-nom95 @melpomenismask @littlemisscalamity @i-wanna-be-a-rock @extrabitterbrain @gaypeaches @phillyinthebathroom @leahstypewriter @madame-ree @pirateofblood

[romace-tea-cup]

imagine being the daughter of bella and edward and your coven finds out about your relationship with felix part two

************************************

I got woken up by the beautiful sun shining on my window , i was in a happy mood for a second when i remembered what needed to be done for today . I then let out a heavy sigh and i got up , i did my bed and cleaned any left over mess i made the night before and i got in the shower and i took a quick but hygienic shower that left me smelling like baked christmas cookies and mint candy canes . I then got dressed for my outfit of the day , i made sure i was comfortable enough because i knew felix would be taking me to volterra in a private jet . After i was done getting dressed and did my hair and make up the last thing i needed to do is to pack my bathroom essentials and bring my phone and my phone charger , after i was done i looked around and noticed how empty the room felt with only my bed and my tv and some furniture left in my room . At this point some of my tears started to drip , i was afraid this was gonna end up bad , what if felix would fight them and he killed my dad like last time in italy ? What if my dad would kill felix ? What if my coven would disown me ? I started to shake out of it , i then grew enough balls and esme had prepared me some eggs and bacon , i smiled at her and pulled her into a tight hug and she just chuckled .

" Thank you esme , i love you so much you are the best of the best no one can top your cooking "

" oh sweetheart , i love seeing you in a good mood , you are never this sweet any special occasion ? "

" N-no , i just thought id show my gratitude towards you and thank you for being there since i was born esme , thank you for taking care of me , thank you for the love you have given me since birth , you really are like a second mom and i would never trade it for anything in the entire world and im thankful i have hou by my side no matter what "

" Oh sweet heart , i love you as if you were my own , i love watching you grow into the amazing lady you are now , and im sure you will keep being the lovable lady you are "

I then nodded and we were talking while i was eating , after i was done i gave her a kiss on the cheek and she gave me one as well it felt like i was saying my goodbye to her which was true because i don't know when ill see her again or if ill even see her , i then did the rest with my family . I saw nessie and she was trying to braid her hair but she was unable , so i stepped in and i braided it for her .

" Let me see "

" Thank you y/n "

" It's no problem nessie , so how is your life with jacob ? Any problems ? "

" My life is amazing , Jacob is the sweetest to me and he cares for me allot , im grateful i have him "

" Well im glad he is treating you like the little princess you are . I hope you know ill always be your sister no matter what , ill always be available when you need me , and no matter what happens ill still love you and i hope you will to little sister . "

" I love you more big sis , and we will always have the same bond because we were in mommies belly , even though you are full vampire and you grew up faster than me and i still look 8 we will never be separated no matter what "

" Well im glad you think so , like it ? "

" i love it ! , thanks sis ! "

" No problem nugget "

We hugged each other and i placed a kiss in her forehead and now i headed to spend time with uncle jasper , he was watching tv and i just sat down next to him .

" Hey uncle jasper "

" What's up ? "

" Nothing much , just thought i would spend some quality time with my favorite historian person "

" Psh im more than a historian "

" Yeah ? Like what ? "

" a great uncle , you can't deny it "

" Yeah of course not , So how are you and aunt alice ? "

" We are doing great , i keep falling in love with her more after each day that passes "

" Well im glad to hear that heh "

" I was meaning to ask you , about what jacob said yesterday , you know you can trust me , did it really happen y/n ? "

I knew i could trust him

" Well yes it did , with another vampire uncle , just don't tell anyone or jacob "

" I won't , so who is the guy ? Do we know him ? "

" I guess you will have to wait and see "

YES YOU DO KNOW HIM IN FACT YOU ARE ABOUT TO MEET HIM AND YOU WILL PROBABLY DISOWN ME BUT ITS LOVE WHAT CAN I SAY !

We spent time together with him telling me his battle stories and i hugged him and headed out to spend time with uncle emmett , he was as usual working out so i changed into my sport clothes and headed out to see him and give him one last work out buddy bonding before i headed out .

" Hey uncle em you ready for a race "

" psh game on "

We ran three miles around the woods and he ended up beating me as usual .

" I won "

" Yeah Yeah stop showing off it was luck "

" Wanna lift next ? "

" Oh you are on ! "

We started lifting and i won this time and he started chuckling , we then went out hunting as usual and he catches a bear while i ate a deer and we headed back to the house honestly im thankful vampires don't sweat . Next up i went to spend time with aunt rosalie and aunt alice , they are usually together but first i gave uncle emmett a hug and then headed off , they were in Rosalie's room .

" Hey aunties , can i come in "

" Sure y/n me and alice were discussing what we are gonna wear for the upcoming ball "

" Ball ? What ball ? "

" The volturi will be hosting a ball in new years eve , we are invited and we were gonna go shopping for dresses next Friday ? "

" Oh um ill go some time another day aunt rosie , in fact i came here to spend time together with both of yall "

" Well why dint you say so !? I just learned new make up tips i wanna show you ! "

" And ill show you how to style your hair y/n "

" sure guys feel free to show me "

They showed me new make up tips and how to style my hair and honestly i appreciate it because i learned how to style my hair better and how to glam myself up for this upcoming ball i never even hared off yet . Now i headed to spend time with mom and dad , he was playing the piano while my mom was reading a book in her room in the couch , my dad purchased him a piano in his room .

" Hey mom and dad , can i come in ? "

" Hey y/n yeah sure "

" Thanks mom , so what are you guy's doing ?

" Im practicing a new song i learned wanna hear it ? "

" Sure thing dad "

He started playing a song and i honestly loved it and i gave him a hug after he ended the song , then me and my mom were talking and we bonded real good . i hugged them both before i confronted jacob about what happened yesterday .

" Hey jake um do you have a moment ? "

" Sure "

" I wanted to apologize over um yesterday , i know i can be a bitch sometimes but i just get annoyed quickly "

" You and apologies ? You feeling well y/n ? "

" Yes jake , i just thought it was right if i apologized to you "

" Well apology accepted "

" Thanks , and thank you for making my little sister happy , i hope you continue to love her as much as you love her right now "

" I will of course , now im heading out to have a meeting with sam , but thanks for the apology , ill be back before 6 "

" Thanks and good luck "

Now it was time to spend time with the last cullen carlisle , he was in his doctors office in the house and i just knocked .

" Hey Carlisle , can i come in ? "

" Of course y/n you are always welcomed "

" So what are you doing huh ? "

" Just doing some research for the upcoming ball "

" So you and aro were friends huh ? How was that ? "

" He can be a bit power hungry but i know he is a great guy "

" What about the guards ? "

" They were fine , i got along with everyone , alec and jane were just chilling but the guards i spent time with were Jane , Alec , Demetri , and Felix . "

" and how was felix ? "

He then looked at me and i started to panic

SHIT ! SHIT ! WHY DID I ASK THAT ?

" He was a great guy , he is the most strong vampire in the world and everyone fears him , im sure you are dreaded to meet him , you and felix were meant to be you know ? "

Wait a second ... He knows about us ?

" Wha- what do you mean ? "

" Well i know you both are mates and you have been seeing each other and that today is your last day here before you head to volterra with him "

" How did you - "

" know? Aro told me , but the rest of the coven does not know because its not my place to tell them , its yours . I have spotted yall both hugging and kissing , i also noticed that you packed your bags yesterday and today , not to mention i knew thag whatever jacob was talking about was true "

I then started to have a faint blush .

" Yeah uh about that i can explain ! "

" No need to , that is a natural thing with mates , and felix will do anything in his power to see you happy , trust me i know him longer than you "

" I guess you are right "

Then a loud voice caught me and Carlisle attention

" WHY ARE YOU HERE !? "

We both rushed to the living room and then i saw him , well all of them exactly ! I thought it was only gonna be felix but i was wrong ! It was the four guards !

" We came here to collect y/n "

Jane spoke and the tension was high as fuck

" My daughter will not be collected without a reason ! "

" y/n is felix' s mate , they have been seeing each other for quite a while , now it is set for her to leave this coven and join us "

Alec spoke and i felt like i was about to have a panic attack .

" Y/n what is he talking about ?! "

" Mom i ... "

" So what jacob said last night was correct ? You slept with this murderer ! "

My dad shouted and then felix growled and speed next to My side protecting me and he stepped infront of my dad .

" And if we had sex what is the problem ? She is my mate and i have every right to please her in bed and have the right to touch her if i wanted to and whenever i want to "

" So that's why you been acting all weird huh ? You knew this was gonna happen "

My aunt rosalie stated and carlisle put a hand over her and let out a sigh and my dad then knew then and there that he knew .

" So you knew all along !? You were her partner in crime and you backed her up with this relationship ! "

" It was not my place to say something edward , this is y/n's and felix's business "

" Mia tesoro please grab your bags , its time to head out "

I just simply nod but alice and my mom hold my wrists

" No ! You can't go ! You cant be part of there coven y/n ! "

Jane then uses her power on alice and she falls in pain but bella uses her shield on her so she is able to get over it and i quickly head for my bags and i have my mini back pack .

" Jasper you also knew about this and you dis not bother to say one word about it !? "

My dad shouted

" I just found out today edward "

" So what i smelled was true , you guys were riding like it was the best time of your life and if your life depended on it y/n "

Felix and demetri then chuckled but my dad and mom shouted at him .

" Jake ! Stop ! "

" As much as i am delighted to see this controversy we need to go master caius would be very upset if we arrived late "

Jane said and i just headed out and felix put a hand over me while my family watched me leave with sadness in their face , i let a few tears slip here and there but felix grabbed my face in his huge ones and wiped my tears away with his thumb .

" Amore mio, per favore non piangere, non sopporto di vedere quei tuoi bellissimi occhi piangere. Ti amano e lo supereranno amore mio, per favore sorridi perché quando piangi mi sento come se stessi crollando. "

Translation

" My love , please do not cry , i cant stand to see those beautiful eyes of yours cry . They love you and will get over it my love , please smile because when you cry i feel like i am crumbeling down. "

" Vorrei solo che questo potesse essere diverso amore mio, spero davvero che trovino nel loro cuore per rinunciare a me e per essere felici per noi.

Translation

" I just wish this could have been different my love , I really hope they find it in their heart to foregive me and to be happy for us . "

" They will my love they love you and they will accept us if it means they see you happy "

" Thank you my love , your everything i need right now "

We hugged and he placed a kiss on my mouth and i kisses back with gratitude .

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Hoped yall liked it ! Ill be posting the next one tommorow ! Question of the day ! ( If u can answer ) what was your favorite bonding experience with a cullen ? Follow me on wattpad and give it a like and follow if you wanna see more ff of felix ! 💞

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Username : yunnoitwasshorty

Name : romacetea