#but this is a sign to me that things are looking at least a tad bit up

[stabthecode]

So I was looking at internships, went to apply for one and immediately ran into this:

[Image id: Screenshot of a job application window showing the input fields for the Resume/CV, Full Name, Pronouns. All fields are currently blank. Under the Pronouns input field are multiple select boxes next to the following pronouns: He/him, She/her, They/them, Xe/xem, Ze/hir, Ey/em, Hir/hir, Fae/Faer, Hu/hu, Use name only, Custom. Under the list of pronouns the screenshot reads Let the employer know what pronouns you use so they can address you correctly.]

I was honestly surprised. I'm going into the engineering industry and the vast majority of the applications I've put in still have a basic drop down menu for gender with the options "female, male" or if I'm lucky "female, male, choose not to identify". One application I sent in allowed me to write in my gender identity only to later on have to choose from one of those dropdown menus.

It is very difficult to know that while I identify as genderqueer, most of the people that look at me will immediately default to female. It's difficult to know that when I say that my pronouns are they/she, many people will take the easy path out and only use she. It's even more difficult when I am trying to make my way into an industry that clearly doesn't actually see me and recognize that I'm not male or female but something different. It's so much more difficult when I know that so many of the internships I've applied for will end up defaulting to she because I put female because it's the closest damn thing that was offered.

In comparison, I almost want to cry over the basic courtesy of asking for my pronouns at the beginning of a job application form. That it is taken just as seriously as any other piece of information. Like of course you would start off by giving your resume/cv, name and pronouns.

I have a very weird relationship to the concept of "woman" that has only been exacerbated recently due to an assignment that I had to do involving a podcast specifically talking about the data deficit regarding females seen across literally every single aspect of the world. It hasn't been helped any by companies that I supposedly want to work for forcing me into their boxes that don't fit.

It's a breath of fresh air to just be straight up asked for my pronouns off the mark. It gives me some hope that maybe things are moving forward. Slowly, but forward nonetheless.

[whitexwolfxx310]

|| Baby Mine ||

Pairing: Bucky x female reader || Bucky x y/n

Summary: Bucky comes home from from a mission and finds you sick. You make an appointment at the medical bay expecting a routine visit only to find out some pretty surprising news.

Warnings: Unplanned pregnancy, minor talk of options pertaining to, morning sickness, a disgusting amount of fluff, and a small sprinkle of spice at the end just because I felt like it.

Word Count: 3323

A/Ns: First and foremost, I would like to apologize for my hiatus. It was not intended and I hit a writers block. With that being said, I do have a decent amount in my drafts and have been working on getting some new things out there!

I would like to say a special thank you to @lil-darhk who gave me some encouraging words that I really needed to hear & helped get me back on here. ♥️

This is a ONE SHOT. This is not part of my BBWWS. I am still working on that but this is something I have been thinking of for a while and just felt like writing about. I know that a pregnancy troupe is not for everyone. (Personally, I love it and I'm not sure if I will write it into my other storyline.) SO because of that....I give you this. I hope you all enjoy it because the idea of Daddy Bucky to me is just 🤌🏻💋

Waking up to the smell of fresh ground coffee was always a tall tale sign of Bucky being home. Missions can be unpredictable. He can be gone for a few days, to a few weeks, and sometimes even months at a time. Luckily, this time he had only been gone about a month and a half.

Excitement took over as you forego your usual procrastinating in bed stretch to run out of the bedroom. Opening the door, the aroma was heavenly- as if a coffee shop had replaced your kitchen overnight. But your eyes immediately fixed on Bucky who was wearing a smirk while plating two separate stacks of pancakes.

“Breakfast, doll?” His voice as smooth as the warm syrup flowing down from those pancake stacks.

Running and jumping to wrap your arms around his neck was your response. Bucky chuckled, holding both arms out wider so he didn’t drop the plates. He put them down gently onto the counter so that his arms would now be only consumed with you.

“I missed you too.” You don’t have to look up from being buried in his chest to know that he’s smiling, it’s in the lighthearted tone of his voice.

Leaning back slightly with his arms still holding you, he looks into your eyes and plants a petal soft kiss on your lips.

“How come you didn’t wake me up when you got in?” You frown slightly looking up at him.

He shakes his head slightly and shrugs, “You just looked so… peaceful. I couldn’t bare to wake you up. At least, not without sustenance,” Bucky laughs.

Shifting your eyes from Bucky to the pancakes and back, your lips tug in each corner. “Smart man.”

His cooking always felt like home. It was filling, delicious, and you could almost taste the love it was made it with. “Mm,” the small noise escapes low in your throat as you take the last bite. Looking across the kitchen table, Bucky is slumped in his chair, arms folded with a warm smile as he watches you. “What?” The question comes out as a half joke and half concern.

Shaking his head slightly the smile grew. “Nothing, doll. Just missed you is all.” Leaning forward, Bucky rests his elbows on the table continuing to stare a tad bit more than normal.

“You’re acting weird.” You say, adjusting in your seat feeling slightly awkward.

“So what have you been up to while I was away?” He completely ignored your statement, asking an easy and lighthearted question.

“Um..” you start, breakfast starting to feel suddenly heavy in your stomach. “I uh-“ your teeth start to clench down as you swallow hard at the pooling saliva in your mouth. “I went out with Nat-“ your brows furrowed, starting to have difficulty with getting the words out. Bucky’s face quickly contorts to concern as you continue to fight the inevitable. “and her sister for some…s-some drinks-“ the word makes you gag.

Almost as if you channeled some super soldier serum, you pushed back from the table and ran- praying that the pressure of your hand over your mouth will be enough insurance to get to the toilet. It barely was. Breakfast came back up violently, loudly as you kneeled in front of the porcelain king. Even when you thought there couldn’t possibly be anything else to throw up, your stomach wrung on itself, forcing up every last drop of bile.

Breathing heavily into the bowl, skin now glistening with cooling sweat, you realize that your hair has been pulled out of your face. Your eyesight, now no longer blurry, sees Bucky sitting next to you; his right hand holding your hair back in a make shift ponytail and his left hand on the nape of your neck, the coolness of his metal hand being your favorite thing in the world at the moment.

“I’m sorry…” your sob echoed lightly in the toilet. “I’ve never been hung over like this before,” you sit back on your knees, grabbing some tissues to wipe your mouth. You bring yourself to look up at him through hooded and puffy red eyes, feeling instantly embarrassed. Bucky gives you a small reassuring smile as his hand gently rubs up and down your back.

“I’ve had the Russians drink me under the table a few times too. C’mon…” He helps you off of the floor, “let’s get you cleaned up.”

A warm bath, some fresh comfy clothes and a plain cup of tea seemed to make the nausea subside.

“I knew I shouldn’t have drank last night,” you say, looking into the lightly steaming mug. “My stomach hasn’t felt right in a few weeks. I actually have an appointment this afternoon in the medical bay, but I didn’t know you would be home. I can cancel it-”

“What time is your appointment?” He cuts you off,

“Um,” you look towards the wall and squint at the clock. “Actually in 45 minutes,” you laugh softly at the realization.

“Do you want me to go with you?” He offers.

“And miss your debriefing? Why, Sargent Barnes, that’s highly unlike you.” Even with not feeling great you can’t help but give him shit. This is the normal

Shaking his head softly he lets out a small laugh. “Alright,” he puts his hands up in a surrendering gesture, “but call me if anything comes up, okay? I’m worried about you.” Bucky’s voice is soft and sincere as he leans in and plants a small kiss on your forehead. His eyes hesitate, locking on yours for a moment. Leaning back in, he presses his lips to yours. “I love you. So much,”

“Love you more, Bucky.” You smile back up at him.

Sitting on the exam table in nothing but a medical gown, you swing your legs gently back and forth while gently nibbling the tip of your thumb as you wait for the provider.

You jump at the sudden knock at the door. In walks the new physicians assistant for The Compound, a young and beautiful woman who looked like she was straight out of school.

“Hi! My names Bree and I’ll be working with you today. According to the nurse who did your intake, you’re here for-“ she scrolls through your electronic chart on a tablet, “some abdominal issues. Tell me about that,” she sits down on a stool, listening intently.

“It’s.. really not a big deal,” you start, she keeps quiet waiting for you to explain in more detail. “I don’t know,” you start to fumble with a few loose strands of hair. “I’ve just felt this sort of… heaviness? It hasn’t gone away and is just always sort of there?” Your voice is unsure, feeling self conscious as you describe this silly little symptom that you felt the need to make an appointment for. “This morning I got sick. Well, I went out drinking last night, so I’m assuming I’m a little hung over.” Your words start to sound like your rambling.

“Hmm,” Bree says in response. “When was your last period?”

“Um,” the gears start turning in your head as you try to backdate events, plans that had been interrupted because of aunt flow. “About 4 months ago?” It probably wasn’t on purpose, but you could see the clinicians eyebrow raise a centimeter in question. “It’s not what you think!” You quickly try to defend, “I’m on the pill! My periods have always been irregular which is part of the reason I’m on birth control in the first place.”

“Okay,” she responds, skeptical. “And you take the pill religiously?”

“Yes,”

“Everyday?”

“Yeah…”

“At the same time?” Bree’s eyebrow inclines just a little more.

“Well,” now she has you questioning everything that you’ve said. “I always have an alarm on my phone and try to take it the same time everyday.” That makes you feel better, justified.

“Have you been sick recently? Aside from this morning, any need for any prescriptions, antibiotics?”

“I had bronchitis, but that was… god months ago?”

“Okay,” she says flatly, “so we’ll just go ahead and do a minor work up to see if we can figure out what’s going on. The first thing I want to do though, is a pregnancy test.” Even though you could feel your face change, Bree quickly added, “Routine stuff. It’s one of the bases that we always cover early on.”

You suddenly become hyper focused on the urine sample you left on the counter top, as asked by the nurse. Bree takes out a small, flat test from a nearby drawer and uses a pipette to transfer the fluid.

It could have been 30 seconds or 20 minutes, but the idea that pregnancy was even a remote possibility has your insides feeling like they’re folding in on themselves.

“Okay so,” Bree starts, getting your attention. “The test did in fact, come out positive. Since your cycles have been irregular, I’d like to do an ultrasound to see how far along you are and then we can talk about options. Just go ahead and lay back on the table, feet in the stirrups.”

"Positive?" You repeat. "But... What? How?" It comes out breathless.

"Well, sometimes antibiotics can actually cancel out the effects of birth control. We try to advise women to not be sexually active as the body might seize the opportunity to ovulate and result in an unplanned pregnancy. How about we just take a look and go from there, okay?" Bree says just a little too cheerfully as she pats the stirrups.

Following her directions is the only thing you’re able to focus on. Going through the motions of laying down, putting your feet up and opening your legs. Bree’s voice is a murmur mixed with a high pitch ringing as you look up at the ceiling tiles, counting each spect while she sets up the portable sono machine.

“Just a little pressure,” she says, guiding the wand like probe, looking at the screen. “Okay. So, judging from the size… I’d say you’re close to about 9 weeks, give or take a bit. Do you want to hear the heartbeat?” She asks, sweetly. And it’s the first time you’re able to look at her since lying down. Bree patiently waits for your answer with a warm smile. You reluctantly nod your head.

The room fills with soft, muffled whooshing. “It’s so fast. I-is that okay? Is everything okay?” You’re searching her face for any hint of something being wrong. In return, Bree just nods gently as she keeps her smile, still examining the screen.

“A fetus’ heartbeat is a lot quicker than ours. Everything looks perfect actually. Would you… like to see?”

“Yes, please.” You didn't hesitate with your answer this time.

The screen gets tilted towards you and your eyes start darting all around looking for the baby. Your baby. At first you don't see anything. It doesn't look like photos you've seen on Instagram of pregnancy announcements. But then, in the middle of what looks like a black balloon, is a bean with limbs. In the center of this bean is a lively flicker. Bree uses her index finger to point to the screen.

"There's the fetus' arms and legs," she points to the extremities, "and here," her finger gently taps on the pulsing center, "is the heart."

The whooshing matches the pace of the flicker; lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub. Hearing the heartbeat in synch with the pulsing on the screen causes your own heartbeat to match for a moment.

So this is love.

After a moment, Bree removes the probe and rips a paper from the ultrasound machine. "Here's some pictures for you," she hands them to you as you sit up on the bed. "I want to see you back here in three weeks for another check up... unless you want to discuss other options?" You shake your head. "Do you have any questions for me?"

“No, not right now.” You’re solely focused on the pictures now in your hand. Even though the image is burned into your brain, holding a physical copy has some how made it more real.

The rest of the afternoon was a whirlwind. There was no possible way that you’re actually pregnant. Even with the new noticeable symptoms and bathroom counter littered in double pink lined tests, it still seemed so unbelievable. That’s not even the hardest part. How am I going to tell Bucky?

Just as the reality starts to set in of having to tell the other adult who is directly involved, the front door to the apartment opens.

"Hey, doll!" Bucky calls loudly from the hallway, the thumping of his boots following his voice. "Sorry that the meeting ran late. I figured we could order in tonight. What about that Thai place you like?" He waits for a response while buzzing around the kitchen, no doubt making himself coffee for the dozenth time today. "Doll?" The question echoes through the quiet apartment.

"I'm in here," you acknowledge softly from the living room couch. Bucky pokes his head out from the hallway, breathing a sigh of relief.

"There you are," he starts walking towards you. "If you tell me what you would like for dinner, I'll call it in and then-" his voice and steps stop abruptly. "Hey... you okay?"

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I'm okay." You answer, obviously distracted.

"That doesn't sound too convincing," Bucky hesitated, looking you over and taking a few steps closer.

"I-I have to tell you something." Your tone is soft, scared. You’re fidgeting with the edges of your sweater sleeves.

“Is it something the doctor said?” His voice is softer now, reluctant and afraid. While his piercing, cerulean blue eyes continue to search yours for the answer, wide and terrified.

“I-“

Should I have gotten balloons? Made him open a box with one of the pregnancy tests or a cute onesie inside? Bake a damn cake?

“Y/n?!” Bucky didn’t yell but definitely had to get your attention. “You’re scaring me. What’s going on?!” He pleaded. Why were the words so difficult to say? Maybe because it hasn’t been said out loud yet. Or that it’s still so shocking. Or maybe that verbalizing it will just make it that more real. You turn on your heels and run to the bathroom.

“Y/n!!” He calls after you, but you know he’ll be just a few steps behind.

Picking up a handful of the positive tests off of the vanity counter with your heartbeat pounding in your ears in combination with his heavy footsteps getting closer.

“Seriously! What is going on-“ Bucky is flustered as he steps into the entryway and stops abruptly at the sight of you facing him, holding the tests fanned out.

“I’m pregnant.” There it is. You’re holding your breath, waiting to see what he’ll say. Aside from contraceptives, you’ve never had any kind of discussions pertaining to a family.

His face softens as he takes a step forward, his eyes hyper fixated on all the double pink lines. Bucky’s chest rises and falls deeply now. “You’re… pregnant? Not sick?” He asks to clarify, being cautious.

“Morning sickness, apparently”, a small laugh escapes and it surprises you. “But other than that, I’m fine. We’re fine.”

The ‘we’re’ part catches his attention. He’s looking into your eyes once again, searching. But, for what?

“Is this… something you want? With… me?” He suddenly sounds so adolescent and anxious. Who can blame him? This took you both completely by surprise. Knowing Bucky, he would support you in whatever you wanted. Whatever decision you thought was best for you, your body, your health in every aspect, he would respect and advocate for. He is being cautious with his response to the news until he knows what your decision is.

Putting the tests down, you take both of his hands into yours and take a deep breath.

“Bucky, if you had asked me this morning, I wouldn’t have known what our future would hold. But knowing what I know now… I want this baby. I want to be a mom and for us to be a family. That being said, I know that this is something that we never talked about. If this isn’t something you want, I underst-“

You’re suddenly cut off by his lips pressing into yours. It feels like a weight has been lifted as Bucky’s arms gently wrap around you to bring you closer. Kissing becomes increasingly difficult around giggles and the obnoxiously big smiles you’re both wearing.

When your lips finally part, Bucky’s eyebrows are raised in excitement. His eyes are darting around your torso as if the news would suddenly show physical changes on your body.

“I can’t believe it…” he breathes, “I actually get the chance to be a Dad-” The word comes out almost as a choked sob. My heart.

Reaching into your back pocket, you pull out the ultrasound Bree had given to you earlier, holding it up for him to see.

"Look, our baby's first photo!"

Bucky takes the picture as gently as if someone were handing him an actual newborn baby. He just stares, probably confused as to what he was looking at similarly to you just a few hours ago.

"I know it doesn't really look like anything right now- but I go back in a few weeks and-"

"Are you kidding?" He looks up from the black and white photo to meet your eyes, a watery sheen coating his own. "This is the most amazing thing I have ever seen in my life." Bucky says softly, as if to himself, looking back down at the picture. And he's smiling. A genuine, heartfelt smile.

That night was the closest he had ever held you in his arms. The two of you made up for lost conversations and started planning for your future and what it held as you laid in bed. Bucky talked about how he wanted to build a crib instead of buying one and was curious what the appropriate amount of time was to wait until you could both start telling everyone. Excitement was an understatement for this man.

"Can I go with you to your next appointment?" He asked, in a hopeful tone as his fingers traced along smooth, soft circles around your belly button. You giggle, wincing at one specific caress.

"Hey! That tickles! But, of course you can. You can come to all of them. I was... kinda hoping you would?" In return, your tone holds the same anticipation.

"I wouldn't miss it." Bucky's palm flattens against your belly as he places a kiss against your temple.

"Don't get used to that," You say looking down. "We're going to start growing and getting bigger any day now." You fake a frown, although there is a small part of you that isn't necessarily faking.

"Hmm." A low hum vibrates from the back of Bucky's throat as he shifts his body down along yours.

His fingertips skim the hem of your sleep shirt before pulling it up and exposing your stomach. The coolness of the air makes your abdomen tighten, but is soon replaced with petal soft kisses. "When you say 'grow', I hope you mean grow more beautiful by the day." Each firm press of his lips feels like its igniting your skin on fire with the newfound sensitivity. Your toes start to dig down into the mattress.

"Because, y/n..." Bucky repositions himself onto his knees, one now conveniently pressed in-between your legs. The pressure alone makes your heart rate spike and has you borderline panting. He hovers over you, "There isn't anything in this world I find more beautiful or more attractive than my girl carrying my child." He holds your gaze, intense and primal- more than you've ever seen.

"Do you understand?" Bucky asks with a raised brow. You nod hastily and he grins in response. "Good girl. Now, let's see if those rumors about hyper sensitivity are true. Judging by how you're writhing under me and the wet spot on my knee... I'm really going to enjoy the next few months."

If you enjoyed this, please check out my masterlist! Requests are open!

@peaches1958 @aquabrie @elsie-bells @pono-pura-vida @redbloodedgurl @almosttoopizza @beware-my-thorns @prettylittlepluviophile @annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny @calwitch @ozwriterchick @roofwitty779 @lessersole @lil-darhk @agoddoesnotplead @saranghaey @erinallene @mrsvxder @elizabeth916 @cjand10 @bucky-barnes-lover @skyf-7

[safetypinxtales]

Lonely with you | Azriel

summary: it seems like everyone's found their mates, except you. On a sleepless night you turn to your friend, in hopes that being alone, together, will feel slightly less lonely.

words: 1.5k

warnings: fluff, feelings of loneliness, thirsting over our boy az and his thighs, kind of just a drawn out drabble, some angst, generally just softness, Azriel with a book needs a warning in and of itself, very slight jealousy, neutrally described reader/no reader description, no use of y/n, PINING

notes: haven't written in years, and never befor for Azriel, or anyone from acotar, so bare with me. Not sure what I think of this, nor what the future might hold, but I had some time off uni and this idea that I just couldn't seem to get out of my head. Hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

part 2

You knew what picture was waiting for you in the living room of the House before you even rounded that corner. The distinct sound of pages turning, the hint of whiskey in the air, and him. 

That scent that was just so distinctly Azriel it almost made you forget that echoing emptiness in your chest. 

The sight that greeted you as you entered the room belonged in a museum, or at the very least at the front of some Day Court scribe’s lecture hall, being studied by the brightest minds in Prythian. You wanted to commission Feyre to paint it from your memories so it could be immortalized, even if just for your eyes. Because by the Gods, it was mesmerizing. 

Azriel sat – no, sprawled across one of the couches, those thick, muscled, sweatpant-clad thighs so deliciously, invitingly, teasingly spread apart. The book in his hand was not one you recognized, but then his taste in literature was slightly more… sophisticated than yours. But that just made it all so much more enticing didn’t it? The thought of this gorgeously dark, winged male consuming deep, meaningful art? It would make any sane person fall to their knees. 

The hazel of his eyes didn’t show any sign of surprise as his gaze met yours. He knew you were coming, most likely courtesy of the shadows leisurely curling around his shoulders. Cauldron, was he a sight…

… And your friend. Unfortunately.

“Are you just going to stand there all night or will you eventually move?” Right, right. How long had your feet been rooted to the floor? Judging by the humorous tone of his voice and that boyish sparkle in his eyes, probably a tad too long. 

Forcing your body to take a step, and another, you tried to think of something – anything to say. 

“Sorry, I–... I just didn’t expect you to be here is all,” liar, “I guess you caught me by surprise”. It wasn’t the best excuse in the world, but with the situation at hand it could have been a lot worse. Like, a lot. Besides, it’s not like you could have told him the truth.

Sorry Azriel, it’s just that I have been desperately yearning for you for the last couple of years and seeing you like this, looking all boyfriend-y, has me nearly swallowing my own tongue because of how perfect you look. I am just humiliatingly obsessed with every single little thing you do, as well as horrifyingly lonely to a default. In a non creepy way, of course. 

… You would rather free-dive off the dining room balcony before ever admitting that to him. 

His brows furrowed as he observed you, like he could see the lie written across your face, before humming lightly, almost as to himself. He reached a hand out to the glass resting on the coffee table and brought it to his lips, taking a sip of the amber liquid inside. Your eyes were trained on his mouth as he lowered the glass. Trained on the candlelight reflected in the alcohol wetting his lips. Those shiny, pouty, full–

His tongue slipped out and delicately swiped across his lower lip, licking off the remnants of the whiskey from the glass in his hand, and it took everything in you to not whimper at the sight. 

Cauldron boil you.

Needing something to ground yourself, you made your way over to pour yourself a glass of whatever Azriel was drinking and collapsed beside him on the couch, trying to roll that stubborn stiffness out of your shoulders.

”Can’t sleep either?” He asked you on a slight chuckle. 

“No, not with them going at it like bunnies,” you sighed, “how is it even possible for Cassian to… you know? I mean, not only is it day after day, but all night, non-stop? You need– I mean not you specifically, I don’t know anything about your sexual habits, just– just males in general,” oh Gods, “you– you need to rest, at some point – right?”

Azriel took in your flustered state, and pursed his lips as if to keep from laughing. His amusement did not help your case at all, only making the heat crawl further up your neck, your ears positively aflame. 

“I guess the mating bond has its perks,” he surmised, and you couldn’t escape the huff that exited your nose. 

That damned mating bond. The very one the Mother seemed to be handing out left to right lately, to everyone except you. And Azriel. But unlike you, he was a damn catch and could have anyone he’d like. 

“Am I an absolute wench for being jealous of Nesta? And Elain? And Feyre?” You whined as you threw your head back on the couch.

“Not at all,” Azriel’s raspy voice comforted you, easing the tightness in your stomach. You still felt like one though; Nesta was your best friend and you were happy for her, but still–

“It’s just so unfair! They were born like, yesterday! I have been suffering through a mostly miserable existence for over five centuries now and I have never even come close to a connection like they have,” you rolled your neck, “I am over the moon for them, don’t get me wrong, and I hate to make their happiness about me–“

“But being alone around people who… aren’t, can be very lonely,” Azriel finished and your heart clenched as you looked at him. Beautiful, kind, caring Azriel. One of your best friends, and the male you were hopelessly, devastatingly in love with. 

Knowing he, too, was hurting was painful in itself, but also slightly comforting. Knowing you weren’t alone in your loneliness. 

“You’re in pain,” he mumbled, and you opened your mouth to answer, but you couldn’t. Because it wasn’t really a question was it? “Your shoulders,” he noted, “they’re tense.”

“Oh, it’s fine, really. Nothing to worry about, just a small kink,” you tried to brush it off, but he looked at you with such intensity it made your whole body tingle.

“No it’s not,” it was like he could see right through you, “No, you have been worrying your neck ever since you sat down.” He pondered a moment before he sat up a little straighter beckoning for you to move closer. “Come on, let me help you with that.”

Your mouth fell open. 

Was he insinuating he wanted to rub your back? Your half naked, barely-nightgown-clad back. With his hands. Those magical, beautiful hands. Oh Gods.

Your attempt of a protest died in your throat at the slight raise of his eyebrows. He was not to argue with.

He marked the page he was on and placed his book down on the table in front of you, his eyes not straying from you once. Like he was afraid you would bolt if he looked away, even just for a second. 

In his defense, you very well might have.

A shaky breath released from your lungs as you put your glass down and readjusted your position on the couch until you were situated between his legs. With your back facing him, you carefully pulled your hair over one shoulder to give him better access, trying to block out the thoughts of how incredibly warm those bite-able thighs of his were.

The warm calluses of his hands on your skin set you ablaze, and as he carefully started to massage out the knots in your upper back you swore you could have melted, then and there. 

You couldn’t help leaning in to his skillful touch. You also couldn’t help the breathy groan that escaped you as he started to work on a particularly tense area. 

Or how your heart rate picked up as you heard what you swore was Azriel’s breath hitching in response. 

You basked in the intimacy of the moment, fully enjoying all of his undivided attention. 

The gesture, the moment, it all felt so domestic and comforting that the constant emptiness in your chest started to close over. Even if just for now. Even if it was all borrowed; a lovely, elusive fantasy – you let yourself feel whole. 

You barely registered his hands slowing to a stop, or the new found looseness in your shoulders. Barely registered as his hands slid down your arms and slowly tugged you back towards his chest. 

Not until you were engulfed in his warmth, his arms wrapped around you did you realize how well you fit together.

Like two pieces of a puzzle.

“Be lonely with me tonight,” his breath tickled your ear, “please.”

You knew it probably wasn’t wise. That tomorrow, when all of this would be gone, the hurt would resurface. The loneliness even heavier than before. But you couldn’t get yourself to care. To tell him no. Tell yourself no.

Instead you burrowed deeper in his embrace, closed your eyes, and even if just for tonight, you let his warmth fill the void in your chest. 

Until that void had been replaced by a vibrating, golden, glow.

[cordyce]

ao’nung is frustrated.

at least, that’s what you’ve deduced from watching him sharpen his knife for the past ten minutes straight. if he keeps going, it might get as thin as a wish bone; threatening to snap at the slightest bit of pressure. as much as you’d find amusement in the sight of that, you’d rather not be in the crossfire when it happens.

“what’s got you caught in its net?” you ask, finally, as you drop the gear you’ve been mending while ao’nung simmers.

“funny,” he mutters, but mirth is not something found in his tone. another scrape, another grating. he does not look over at you.

“i know. i’m the funniest person alive. you should be grateful you have the opportunity to bask in my presence.”

it’s a ploy—a tease. like waving fresh bait in front of a young ilu but never tossing it into the water for them to eat. your tactic with ao’nung is always the same. push and pull and prod just enough that he bites back with less venom and more demure. because sarcasm is better than spite, in all regards.

except now, he doesn’t take it. now, he simply keeps his head tucked down, his lips pressed in a hard line. whittling at his knife and spouting invisible steam out of his ears.

you stand up, make your way over to him and bend slightly at the waist to slide your hands along his sloped shoulders. his muscles go taut—just a bit—at the initial contact of your palms, but relax a second later. not to their resting state, no, but leaving the field of caught off guard at the very least. you hum, lean down further as you dip your hands over his clavicles, across the upper half of his sternum.

“what is wrong, ao‘nung?” its sincere, this time. your question. because despite the dynamic between the two of you, you really do care—jokes and jabs aside.

this silence is different. you can tell by the twitch of his ears that he’s thinking; mulling something over on his tongue before he decides whether to spit it out or swallow it down. you can never guess which one it will be, not with him. he acts on whims, never strategy. there is no speculating his next move, so you simply don’t try to.

“there has been talk among the reef.” it’s all he says; all he gives. such a shell of a man, forcing you to pry open his jaws to reach the pearl within.

it is good that you’ve always been so skilled with your hands.

“there is always talk among the reef,” you chuckle, begin to fiddle with the necklace that’s strung around his neck. hooking your chin over the top of his head, you look down to watch as he grinds his knife once again. “you know they like to keep their minds busy with silly things.”

“it isn’t a silly thing.”

“oh? then tell me, what is so dire that it could have the great ao’nung this tense, hm?”

his hands falter for the first time, a pause in his rhythmic grazing. your brows furrow at that, create a hairline crease in the middle that only smooths out as he resumes his motions. scrape, scrape, scrape again. it’s like he’s doing it in sync with his heart. if you shifted your hand over just a tad, you suppose you could test that theory.

“it is talk of you.”

quiet. a mere grumble under his breath. if you were not leaned over him like this you would not have even heard him. such an odd twinge to his tone; laced with something you can’t quite decipher. can’t quite pick up on. it isn’t necessarily anger, but something flirting along the lines of it.

“me? don’t tell me you have went around spreading rumors that i am possessed by eywa’s evil sister again. i thought you stopped that when we were kids.” you laugh through it, because the jagged edges of his timbre are making your fingers itch. “you’re going to ruin my reputation.”

he scoffs. condescending, dismissive. normally you’d take that as a good sign; a call back to his regular grating demeanor. at this specific moment, however, you find annoyance in it.

“your reputation is fine,” he tilts, gives a particularly harsh press of his knife that makes you think this just might be the time where it snaps. miraculously, it doesn’t. “so completely fine.”

“then what could they possibly find reason to speak of me for?” you press, rubbing your thumb over the cord of his necklace, twisting it around your fingers. “i have not caused any trouble lately. haven’t set fire to any maruis. why, there’s nothing that i can think of that could possibly warrant—“

“they speak of your lack of mate.”

his hands are working harder, less refined. jaw clenching, deltoids growing stiff below you. it’s all starting to air itself out, his jaws have cracked open just enough that you can finally see the pretty pink pearl that rests on the bed of his tongue. but it is not enough, not yet.

“then all they speak is the truth,” you shrug over him, keep your gaze locked on his movements. you want to be sure, before you jump to the assumptions that are creating hurdles in your mind. “there is no harm in speaking of public knowledge.”

“they—“ he hitches, twists his face up like his next words are sour on his tastebuds, “they are voicing their thoughts on potentials for you. they think.. rotxo is the best option.”

“oh, yes. rotxo would be a fine potential mate.”

and, ah. there it is. the coup de grace.

ao’nung snaps his head around towards you so fast you hardly have time to lean back to avoid getting smacked in the chin by his skull. there’s a fissure between his brows, his eyes have widened past the aggravated slits they were before. his mouth is cracked open in disbelief, of the fact that you agreed with him or another matter, you aren’t sure. either way, it is clear now what has been getting under the heir’s skin.

he's jealous. and you can't help but find that the slightest bit amusing. it's not often you have ao'nung in the palm of your hand like this; akin to a bug squirming under the pad of your thumb with no clear route of escape. you think you can play this up, just a little.

"you do not think that," he states, like he needs to speak it into existence. like if he says it then it will ring true, change your mind.

(he doesn't need to change your mind, but he doesn't need to know that right now).

"why would i not?" you hum, tip your head like you're truly contemplating it. "he is sweet. has a tender heart. and he is always so quick to help me. he doesn't even complain. i think taking him as a mate would be a good decision."

"the only thing good about rotxo is his hair," ao'nung spouts, rolls his eyes at you as his face fills up with indignation. "stupid, pretty boy goody two shoes."

"oh, you're right! and he's nice to look at," you agree, nod your head right along with it, "how could i forget?"

his cheek dips; he's sucking it in between his teeth. you've really done it, you think. setting him off has never been so easy. sure, it’s never too hard to get him riled up in the middle of a bickering match. but like this? aggravated over, what, exactly? the thought of you with someone else?

maybe you’re enjoying this a bit too much.

“he is not your type.” a bold proclamation, ao’nung spits out. grasping for straws; searching blindly. “you would not go well with him.”

“i think he is my type, actually,” you dispute, and he’s stopped all his movements now. knife long forgotten as he seethes over every word you speak. “kind. loyal. good morals. easy on the eyes. yes, definitely my type. that checks off the list.”

he purses his lips, knots up his brows. “that cannot be the list.”

“no?” you peruse, play into him. he makes this too easy, really. “what do you think is on the list, then? moody? messy? long hair? a tendency to be mouthy? being the chief’s son?”

that earns you a shove off of him; a click for him to realize you’ve been fucking with him this entire time. biting back your shit eating grin would be impossible so you don’t even try to. nor do you stop the laughter that bubbles out of you as he goes back to his knife work and curses you under his breath.

you reach for him again except this time you walk around until you’re in front of him. one hand on his shoulder, you lean down to shove the knife and sharpener out of his hands and plop yourself right into the slot his crossed legs have made. his gaze is narrowed at you, his lips jutted. you simply smile—innocent, sweet—as you slide your hands around to cup the nape of his neck.

“i don’t think rotxo could handle me,” you murmur, sickeningly saccharine in such a direct contrast from seconds before. ao’nung doesn’t budge. “and the good ones are always so boring. if he was my mate, when would i ever get the chance to get up to trouble?”

“you are trouble,” ao’nung scoffs; acting annoyed, fed up. but his hands give him away as they meet the dimples of your lower back, as they slide up your spine to hold you secure so you don’t fall backwards.

his facade of pretending to not care has never been too full proof. there’s been cracks in that glass since day one.

“your trouble,” you grin. your fingers begin to draw circles along the back of his neck, tease at his hairline. “you made me this way, you know.”

“i made you nothing,” he rebuts. “you are the one who always comes up with the pesky ideas that get us scolded.”

“ah, you’re right,” you agree with a faux sigh. “humor and brains. i guess i’m the funniest and smartest person alive. truly, you should be honored.”

ao’nung rolls his eyes, peels his hands off of you. “forget ability, i do not wish to handle you now. rotxo can have you, for all i care.”

“oh?” you quirk, begin to stand up. “should i go see what he is up to—“

“sit,” ao’nung orders before you can rise no more than a few inches off of his lap; hands gripping your waist to tug you back down. the playfulness drains from his eyes, that annoyance—jealousy—flashes across sea foam irises for just a moment. “you are not funny.”

you bite the edge of your lip, making your grin turn slanted. he is so fun to tease, to toss around. his palms are warm on the dip of your waist. sliding your hands further back, you skim your finger along the side of the braid encasing his queue. faint, light. he tries to hide the shiver it causes but you pick up on it regardless. and that only makes you grin wider.

“they will speak of me until i choose a mate,” you hum as you lean closer to him, minimize the distance between your faces. “rotxo is not the only name that will be paired with mine. they all like to place their bets, you know.”

“their bets are stupid,” ao’nung mutters; gruff and rumbling out of his chest as his attention flickers, falters, the closer you get.

being this close is nothing new. being this touchy is nothing new, either. but it’s almost like your skin is buzzing, your energies feeding off one another in the moment that sends you tumbling into a smug streak. or maybe, that’s just the power ao’nung holds over you and you’re scared to admit it.

“you only think they’re stupid because your name is being outnumbered in the betting pool.” maybe that’s a little mean, but it’s fun. your fingertips are heavier now, more directed as you trace the divots of his braid with one hand and gauge the rise and fall of his chest with the other. “if you were winning, would they be stupid then?”

“i am winning,” ao’nung conveys, so sure and lacking any sense of doubt in the slightest; a variance from a few moments before. and that, well, that actually makes you falter—for just a second.

“and how do you figure that?” you mumble out the question into the minute slot between the two of you. bated and breathy.

ao’nung hooks an arm around your waist, his other hand sliding up to grip the hinge of your jaw. not harsh, not rough, but firm. cradling you carefully but securely; solidly. your breath hitches, your fingers pause on their skimming across his queue encasing.

“because i am the only one who gets to do this,” he says. blunt and honest and certain as he closes the gap severing you.

he kisses you full and deep and warm. he kisses you like he has not eaten in days and you are the one thing that can sate his hunger. he kisses you like the ocean kisses the shore; yearning and all consuming, and rushing back once more as soon as their lips must part.

and he does; chase your lips as you pull back to catch your breath. places one, two, three pecks there before he deems it a safe retreat. his eyes are lidded, but no longer from frustration. that signature crooked, haughty smirk of his is curved into his pale lips. and instead of smacking it off, you’re considering how many more kisses it would take to wipe it away.

“oh yeah,” he chuckles, lips brushing over yours as he’s already leaning in again. “so winning.”

and you can’t help but agree.

likes & reblogs appreciated !

[milfsloverblog]

Hii!! I have a Larissa x reader request. Larissa is in her late forties, has a shit ton of money (cause that woman screams money) and she's also a tad lonely, so she decides to find herself a sugar baby and that's where reader comes in, they are broke, almost finishing college and in need of quick money. I really just need this woman to pamper me with money and love and good sex, lots of mommy kink and out of the bedroom dominance pretty pleeeeeaaassseeee

Secret Benefits (NSFW)

Part 1. (Next part)

Larissa Weems x fem!reader

A/N: Anon, I loved this request so much I’ve decided to turn it into a multiple chapter fic. We’re mostly setting the scene in this chapter, but I added a tiny bit of smut. Thanks for the request, enjoy!! <3

You didn’t feel very proud as you clicked on the “sign up” button on the app your best friend told you about. You typed in your information - Name, age, height, weight, eye and hair colour. It did feel like you were only a product to be bought but it was what you were looking for, after all.

You filled in the “looking for” section - women, preferably. You didn’t care much about height or weight or anything like that, really, although you hoped you would be able to at least find someone attractive. But you couldn’t afford to be too picky.

It did feel like signing up for a normal dating app until you reached the “monthly income” criteria. This was by far the most important criterion, the one that had led you to this website, and yet you didn’t know what to answer. You stared at your phone screen for a moment before eventually typing in “Minimum $3500”. It felt like a correct amount, enough for someone to take care of themselves and you as well.

You uploaded a few pictures, a couple of selfies and one where your whole body was visible. You probably would have more chance of quickly finding someone if you uploaded a more revealing picture, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Not yet.

You took a deep breath and clicked on the button that would make your profile public, watching the message that popped up on your screen - Welcome to Secret Benefits, the number one sugar dating app in America.

Your profile had only been public for a few minutes when you received your first like and inbox message. A man saying he would pay you a thousand dollars a week and didn’t want anything in exchange, only to chat with you. Your friend had warned you about this kind of scam so you simply rolled your eyes and reported the profile.

Browsing through the app you quickly realised that most people on there were men over forty searching for a pretty thing to parade around with. You knew it was the whole point of this app and those kind of relationships, but still.

It felt like you had been scrolling for hours when a profile finally caught your eye. Larissa, 48. Her picture was what first caught your attention. The woman was half-turned from the camera, holding a glass of red wine in her hand. Her white hair was tied in an intricate updo, her lips painted with a crimson red that matched her nails and her blue eyes fixed on the camera as if she had caught the photographer in the act of taking her picture. It almost felt like she was looking right at you. She looked beautiful.

You clicked on her profile, hoping to learn more about the woman. You read her body description, eyes widening when you reached the height criteria and read that she was 6’3. She looked like the type of woman who enjoyed wearing heels and you felt dizzy at the thought of a two metres tall woman towering over you.

You noticed that she had picked “Unspecified” for the monthly income. You weren’t sure what that meant exactly. Was she wary about sharing her income? Strange, given the kind of app you were on. Or perhaps she was old money. She did look wealthy, the kind of woman who would have grown up in a rich family and inherited it all.

She had listed a few of her interests in her bio. Art, luxury fashion and haute couture, feminism. There was a single sentence written underneath, one that had your breath hitch in your throat.

“I call myself a hedonist, I seek utmost pleasure in everything I do.”

And that was enough to have you hooked. You didn’t care about the other thousands of profiles on the website anymore. You only cared about her. Larissa, her sapphire eyes and crimson lips, her hedonistic lifestyle and promise of utmost pleasure, and most importantly - her money.

You clicked on the little heart next to her profile picture, like your friend had told you to do. Now you were supposed to wait and see if the woman would like your profile in return. You could have sent a private message straight away, but your friend said it was better not to, it would make you look too desperate. I am desperate, you thought.

It was only hours later, when you were freshly out of the shower and about to get into bed, that your phone pinged and you quickly grabbed it to check the notification.

Larissa liked you back! The start of a beautiful story?

You stared at the notification for a minute, what were you supposed to do now that she had actually liked you back? You weren’t even expecting to get that far when you signed up.

You sat down in bed still wrapped in your towel and took a deep breath. How were you even supposed to engage in a conversation with a woman like her?

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard for a while. Everything you could think of sounded lame and you even considered calling your friend for some advice but it would have just been embarrassing.

You: Hi there! I came across your profile and was very intrigued by your sophistication and the way you described yourself. How has your day been?

That wasn’t too bad. At least you hadn’t sent a cheesy pickup line.

The little “seen” quickly appeared under your message and you bit your lip in anticipation.

Larissa: Good evening! Thank you for reaching out. My day's been quite busy with work, but I'm always up for interesting conversations. How was yours?

Okay, she had answered. She had liked you back and she had answered. Great, it was great.

You: I'm glad you're taking the time to chat. My day's been mostly filled with classes and hanging out with my friends, a normal day in the life of a college student haha. What do you do for work?

Larissa: I’d rather keep my work private, at least for now. But I promise I’m not doing anything illegal! College student, what do you study?

Well, that was a bit strange, although you could see why someone wouldn’t want to share their work field on this kind of app, there was no doubt those arrangements could ruin some people’s lives.

You: Sure, no worries! I study marketing. It’s not always easy but I enjoy it for the most part. I’m really curious about what brings you to this app?

The message was read almost instantly but it took the woman a few minutes to answer. Was she hesitant? Searching for the right words?

Larissa: I appreciate your curiosity. I'm mostly looking for a mutually beneficial arrangement where we can both enjoy each other's company and experiences. What about you? What are you looking for on here?

A mutually beneficial arrangement, that was certainly one eloquent way to put it.

Larissa: I'm seeking someone who can support me as I navigate my studies. I live on my own and have a job on the side but it’s getting really hard to finance everything alone. Plus, I think having someone older in my life, someone with more experience, could only be beneficial. It’s all about benefits and enjoying the finer things, isn’t it?

Larissa: It is! I suppose it’s the main reason why so many young women are on this app. Tell me, what do you enjoy doing in your free time?

You: Well, I honestly don’t really get much free time. But I like to sit down with a nice book whenever I can. I enjoy going for walks and I could spend hours in the kitchen cooking and baking. What about you? Any favourite ways to unwind?

Larissa: I don’t get much free time either if I’m being honest. I’m a busy woman. I do enjoy sitting by the fireplace with a book and a glass of red, one of life’s simple pleasures. I love exploring art galleries, trying out new restaurants and I sometimes, although very rarely, indulge in spa retreats.

Spa retreats? These things cost a fortune! You were lucky if you could indulge yourself in a night out with your friends!

The two of you kept exchanging for a while. You learnt that Larissa was British, that she had moved over here for her studies. She loved travelling, had been to many places around Europe and was a big fan of French cuisine. She felt like the kind of woman you could listen to for hours without ever getting bored.

It was getting late, your eyes were practically closing themselves and you knew you would be absolutely exhausted in the morning, but you didn’t want the conversation to end.

You had been talking for nearly two hours when the woman asked if you had ever dined at Ambrosia, a restaurant way out of the centre of Jericho. You snorted loudly as you searched the restaurant on Google and realised it was a gastronomic one. Did she really think you could afford that kind of place?

You: No, I’ve never been there. But I’ve just googled it and it looks like a nice place!

Larissa: It’s my favourite restaurant in Jericho, I think I must have tried everything on the menu by now. Would you like to join me there for dinner, let’s say on Saturday night?

Saturday night? You quickly checked your schedule, you were working at the bar that day.

You: I would love to, I really would love to, but I’m working that day and I can’t miss a shift…

Larissa: If it’s about the money, you don’t need to worry. Call your work tomorrow, let them know they will need to find someone to fill in for you on Saturday.

You swallowed thickly. What if this was some joke? What if you showed up at the restaurant and she wasn’t there? You would miss your shift, and lose money for nothing. But if she did show up…

You: Fine, I’ll call in the morning. What time should we meet at the restaurant?

Larissa: 6.30 pm? If you give me your address I will have a car sent for you. However, I understand if you feel wary about giving that kind of information to a stranger.

You did feel more than wary about giving her your address. For all you knew it could be some creep hiding behind that profile. But if you didn’t take the leap, you might miss a great opportunity. So you did it, you sent Larissa your address and thanked her for wanting to send a car.

Larissa: Thank you, darling. The car will pick you up at 6. I should probably let you get to bed now, I wouldn’t want you to fall asleep during one of your classes. Thank you again for reaching out, it’s refreshing to connect with you.

You: Thank you, Larissa. Likewise, I enjoyed our conversation. See you on Saturday!

You closed the app and took a deep breath. You were insane, absolutely deranged. Who in their right mind would agree to something like this so quickly? You groaned and pulled the duvet over your head. You’d think about this later, all you wanted at that moment was to sleep.

-

Saturday couldn’t come quickly enough. Your friend had asked you if you’d had any luck on the app yet and you lied, telling her that no one seemed interested in you yet. Maybe you would tell her about your meeting with Rissa once it’d be done. Maybe.

You had exchanged a few more messages with Larissa the next day, just to keep in touch and let her know that you were looking forward to meeting her, and so was she.

The doorbell of your flat ringing woke you up early on Saturday morning. You quickly threw on some pyjamas and went to open, your eyebrows shooting up when the courier handed you a big cardboard box.

“What the hell?” You whispered to yourself as you placed the box down on your coffee table.

You grabbed a knife from the kitchen drawer and carefully cut the tape, holding your breath as you opened the box. There was a small note on top of something wrapped in gold tissue paper.

I picked you an outfit for tonight, I had to guess your size using your pictures but I’m pretty certain it will fit. I suggest wearing a pair of black heels with it. See you tonight, darling.

-Larissa

You had to read the notes a few times to make sure you weren’t just making things up. She had picked you an outfit, really? Did she think you couldn’t dress up on your own? Well, to be fair you weren’t sure you had anything chic enough in your wardrobe, but still.

You carefully opened the tissue paper and your breath hitched as you unfolded the black slip dress that she had picked for you. The silk fabric felt incredibly soft under your fingertips and the lace trim on the neckline was beautiful.

“Simone Rocha.” You read the tag out loud. The name did ring a bell somewhere in your mind, was that a designer dress? Well, at least now you knew the woman was serious about taking you out for dinner tonight.

You were about to close the box when you noticed there was something else in there. You picked it up, eyes growing wide at the sight of a burgundy thong. It was beautiful. Made out of lace and embroidered with floral details, it probably cost more than your whole underwear drawer.

You bit your lip looking at the two items of clothing in your hands. Maybe you could get used to this lifestyle.

-

The car sent by Larissa arrived at your place at 6 pm sharp. You quickly put on your heels, fixed your lipstick, and took a last look at yourself in the mirror. The dress fitted you like a glove and you had rarely felt that beautiful in a piece of clothing, you looked expensive.

Hundreds of thoughts were rushing through your brain as you sat in the back of the car and absentmindedly looked outside the window.

And suddenly it hit you - would Larissa be expecting sex from you? Your eyes widened at the possibility. You had not talked about this. Sure, the woman had said she wanted someone to spend time with, but spending time with someone could mean a lot of things!

You were almost thinking about changing your mind and going home when the car pulled over and the driver let you know that you’d reached your destination. You took a look at the building outside and swallowed thickly. There was no going back now.

You thanked the driver and stepped outside, taking a deep breath of fresh air. You were halfway to the restaurant door when you heard your name being called, causing you to spin on your heels.

“Larissa?” You asked as your eyes landed on the woman walking towards you. She looked just like her picture - tall, elegant, beautiful.

“Yes!” She smiled and nodded.

Noticing that she looked you up and down, you allowed yourself to do the same. She was wearing an emerald fitted dress that perfectly hugged her waist and hips. Her legs had to be the longest you’d ever seen, they seemed to go on and on until you finally reached the silver heels that were on her feet.

“It’s nice to meet you.” You smiled back, feeling a bit awkward and not knowing what to say.

“Likewise.” Larissa answered and pulled the door open to let you in, her hand falling on the small of your back as she followed you inside.

Everything inside the restaurant reeked of wealth. The high ceiling, the polished wood floor and the leather seats. You were out of place and you felt like everyone around you knew it.

“Miss Weems, good evening!” A waiter flashed the woman a bright smile. “Your usual table?”

“Good evening, Adam. Yes please, the usual.” Larissa nodded and her hand on the small of your back gently pushed you, signalling for you to follow the waiter.

You sat down at the table and could immediately tell why it was Larissa’s favourite table. It was at the back of the restaurant, in a quieter space, and it had a perfect view of all the other tables.

The waiter brought the menu almost immediately and made a few suggestions as he poured two glasses of water. You could feel the older woman staring at you as you opened the menu and flipped through the pages. Everything was expensive, a whole three-course meal in this place would cost as much as your biweekly grocery budget. It was insane.

“Anything tempting you?” Larissa smirked, a strange glint in her eye.

“Um…Yes, yes there is a few things that sound really good.” You nodded and pushed an awkward smile.

“The dress suits you perfectly. You picked the perfect shoes to go with it.”

A blush crept up your cheeks hearing the compliments and you pushed out a shy “thank you”.

“Are you wearing everything that I picked?” Larissa asked, her head slightly tilting to the side.

Her eyes briefly dropped to your chest - no bra, that was the right choice for this kind of dress. Larissa was pleasantly surprised. She had purposefully chosen not to include a bra in the package but she wasn’t sure if you’d wear one of your own.

“Yes,” Your cheeks turned a deep red, not far from the colour of the thong you were wearing. “I’m wearing everything you picked. Thank you, by the way, I loved your selection.”

Larissa’s nostrils flared and she let out a satisfied hum, looking up when Adam reappeared by your table.

Larissa went first, there were far too many French words in her order for you to understand properly, but you enjoyed hearing her accent. It was like honey dripping from her lips. When you snapped out of your thoughts, the waiter was looking down at you expectantly. You opened your mouth to place your order only to be cut off by the tall woman’s voice.

“She will have the seared foie gras as an entrée, followed by the filet mignon - medium rare - with grilled asparagus, and the passion fruit mousse for dessert.” Larissa said, her sapphire eyes looking at you above the menu.

Your mouth dropped open. First, she had picked your whole outfit down to your panties, and now this. I want control, she had told you in one of her messages. You hadn’t really understood what it meant at that time, but you did now. You would never admit how turned on you were as you closed your menu and handed it back to the waiter who gave a polite nod and walked away from your table.

“You’re staring, darling.” Larissa pointed out, making you close your mouth and look away for a second.

“Sorry, I-“

“You weren’t expecting that?”

“Yeah…”

Larissa let out a soft chuckle and reached out, crimson nails taking hold of your chin to make you look at her.

“When we meet, if we meet again, I would like to be in charge of those things.” She simply said.

“In control, you mean?”

The woman’s nostrils flared again and she gave a small nod.

“Yes, in control. I do enjoy knowing you’re wearing something that I picked for you, that you will be tasting what I want you to taste.”

There was something almost erotic in the way she said it, something that sent a shiver down your spine and had your eyes dropping to the woman’s lips, watching them curve in a smirk.

“I wanted to ask-“ You mustered the courage to say. “If you would be expecting…more than just my company.”

“Sex?” The word sinfully rolled from her tongue.

“Yes.” You let out in a whisper.

“Would you like to have sex with me?”

Maybe.

“No.” It instinctively slipped from your mouth. “This is not the kind of arrangement I’m looking for.”

“Well, then I’m not expecting sex from you, no.” Larissa simply answered. She seemed sincere, like she really had not been expecting anything more than your company.

What if you had said yes, though? Would she have sex with you if you ever changed your mind? You swallowed thickly at the thought and picked up your glass, taking a couple of sips of water.

Larissa asked about your day and if you could explain what your studies consisted of, which you happily did. You told her about economics, and how you had learnt about analysing consumers and competitors. You were sure that it was boring, having to listen to these things when you weren’t involved in marketing, and yet Larissa’s eyes never left you. She gave a nod here and there, and asked more questions when something wasn’t fully clear to her. She seemed genuinely interested in you, and it felt nice.

“Thank you, Adam.” Larissa smiled when the entrées were placed on the table.

You looked down at your plate, it was beautifully presented and smelled incredible. What was it again?

“Seared foie gras,” Larissa said as if she could read your mind. “Enjoy, darling.”

“Thank you, enjoy!” You answered and picked up your fork to try the foie gras. You remembered having tasted it once, years ago at a wedding. But it didn’t taste this good in your memory.

Larissa watched your every move. She watched you push the fork inside your mouth, how you closed your eyes when the food filled your tastebuds. The foie gras was exquisite, the woman knew it, and she relished in the pleased hum that escaped you.

“What do you think?” She said, eager to hear your thoughts.

“It’s delicious, thank you for picking it.” You answered honestly, causing Larissa to let out a shuddering breath. Was she getting off on this?

The rest of the meal went smoothly. Larissa seemed determined to keep most of her life private, only answering a couple of your questions, often with well-thought answers that wouldn’t give out too much. It seemed like she enjoyed hearing you talk about yourself, though, for she asked you question after question throughout the evening.

“Thank you for tonight, Larissa.” You said when the two of you walked out of the restaurant. She had paid for the whole bill and, even though you had expected it, it still brought a blush to your cheeks.

She wrapped her arm around your shoulder and pulled you closer against her, walking with you towards her car. She had convinced you to let her drive you back to your flat, although it hadn’t taken much for you to agree to it.

You sat down in the passenger seat of her Chevrolet and stayed quiet as Larissa turned on the engine and drove away from the restaurant. A silence fell between you, it was a bit uncomfortable until the older woman turned the radio on and a familiar new wave song filled the car.

Larissa softly hummed along to the tune and her hand moved to rest on your leg, just above your knee, her thumb soothingly rubbing your skin. You didn’t think you would love it as much as you did, but her hand was warm against your flesh and it simply felt right.

“I think we’ve arrived.” Larissa said as she pulled over in front of your flat.

“Mm? Oh, yeah, yes!” You nodded taking a look outside. You had been lost in your thoughts for the entirety of the ride.

Larissa leaned over and pulled something from the glove compartment before handing it to you. It was a small golden envelope with your initials handwritten on it.

“For your missed shift.” She smiled and placed the envelope in your hand.

“Thank you.”

“Mhm. Now go, get some rest.” She purred. “I will text you later.”

“Goodnight, Larissa.” You bit your lip, hesitating for a second before eventually placing a kiss on the woman’s cheek.

“Goodnight, darling.” She squeezed your thigh and watched you step out of her car, waiting until you were inside the building before she drove away.

You closed the door behind yourself and let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding. It had gone…surprisingly well. Larissa was truly charming, she was intelligent, eloquent, and wealthy. And she was breathtakingly beautiful.

You stepped out of your heels and walked through your flat, dropping the envelope on the kitchen counter before you made your way to the bathroom for a well-deserved shower.

Thoughts of the older women flooded your mind as soon as you stepped under the hot water jet. Was she home already? What was she doing? Had she enjoyed her evening? You were pretty sure that she had. More than once you had caught her pupils dilating as you thanked her for what she had picked for you, whether it was the food or the clothing. Was she thinking about you right now like you were thinking about her?

Would you like to have sex with me? - her voice echoed through your mind and you whined, dropping your hand between your legs. There was a sense of urgency in the way you fucked yourself as you thought of Larissa being in control of you, your food, your outfit - God, you’d probably let her take control of your whole being if she asked for it.

“Fuck- Larissa!” Her name rolled from your tongue as you reached your climax, leaving you panting heavily against the shower wall. It was depraved, you thought, fucking yourself thinking of a woman you had just met.

The same thought crossed Larissa’s mind as she slowly pulled her fingers out of herself, pushing them between her lips to lick them clean. It was depraved, but you had looked so good in the dress she’d picked for you and you had been so thankful all night long.

The tall woman opened a kitchen drawer, pulled a cigarette out of it, and lit it while she poured herself a glass of red with her other hand. It usually was either one or the other, but tonight she really needed both. Larissa was hooked, she couldn’t help herself, she loved taking care of a pretty thing.

You grabbed the envelope from the counter on your way to bed, opening it once you had settled down under the duvet. Two hundred dollar bills fell on your lap, making your eyes widen. This was almost double what you’d have made for your shift tonight. You bit your lip and put the money back into the envelope before shoving it inside your bedside table. Maybe you could get used to this, spending time with a beautiful woman and being paid for it. What was that thing she said? Ah, yes, to seek utmost pleasure.

———————————————————————

taglist: @raspburrythief @weemssapphic @readingtheentrails @larissaoftarthweems @principal-weems09@catechristiesstuff @kimiinou @winterfireblond @im-a-carnivorous-plant @geekyarmorel @h-doodles @azu-zu @barbarasstar @witchesmortuary @vigelvictoria @m1lflov3rrr @dumbasslesbi @crow-raven-crow @fridays-coven @lilfartbox1 @makkaroni221 @snakeskin-world @shawncantwrite @eveymay @gwens0girl @aemilia19 @s-c-rambledegggs @the-bagel24 @lvinhs @thefutureisus2020 @marcelinececiliarose @gela123 @a-queen-and-her-throne @dani885-xox @rando-mango @jessi-v @rosiexweill @raya0jpg @iheartmilfies @tbsoe @olivianevrakisownsme @wheresmyboo @my-silver-spring @hillary-nicks @ablsk @natasha29romanoff @kittyxtallmilfs @tallvampirelady12  @spacetoaim22 @canyoufeelmyheartsayinghi @bigwanise12 @moonyboyjay @i-love-nerdy-stuff @sapphicsticate-blog @1-800-milfdilf @isastrwbxy @bluepandastarfish @tarabeck15 @musicallovinggal @scarlettssub @jasperobsidian-blog @slightlymalicedme @anoymous614372 @i-write-sometimes-maybe @brienne-the-brave @slytherinthepms @non-binary-frogking @wife-of-gwendolinechristie @goodnightboi @anjo-iludidoefudido @imnotafruitt

[tinylilacbun]

story time on how the reader got lost in the mall w rafia and the aftermath ?

Rafe and Sofia just wanted to have a 10 minute break from walking, so you can eat a small snack and they can sort out their things.

As they are searching through the amount of shopping bags for Rafe's wallet that he slipped into one of them in a haste after leaving the last store you were in.

"I swear I've put it in here somewhere..." He mutters, rummaging through the different bags furiously.

"Stop, you ain't gonna find it like that, let me-" Sofia starts but you tune their voices out when a store caught your attention, getting up from the bench you're sitting on beside the both.

A minute later Rafe finally found his wallet holding it up. "Got it. A'ight, where did you want to go next baby?" He asks, lifting his head to look at you, his heart dropping when you're not there, patting Sofia's shoulder. "Babe, where is she?"

Sofia furrows her brows turning her head to where you're supposed to be, her eyes widening. Both of them instantly stand up, their eyes scanning through the crowds of people for any sign of you.

Rafe's running a hand over his buzzed head while Sofia pulls out her phone, trying to call you but sighs when she hears your phone ringing in her bag, remembering that you gave it to her earlier so you wouldn't lose it somehow.

"Rafe, what if she's regressed? What if-" She starts to worry until Rafe places his hands on her shoulders.

"Hey, hey, don't freak out on me now. We'll find her, okay?" He assures her. "She can't be far, let's go."

Grabbing the bags, they start to search for you, walking a little faster and looking into various stores when they see you in a toy store, standing in front of a shelf that holds tons of stuffed animals.

"Thank god." Rafe sighs in relief, quickly making his way over to you and before he could start scolding you Sofia pulls you into her arms.

"Sof, look they have a pink bunny here!" You smile as she hugs you tightly, completely oblivious that you worried them beyond belief.

Sofia pulls away to cup your face in her hands, squeezing them together a bit. "You scared us, baby."

"Huh?" You furrow your brows, not understanding what she's talking about, feeling Rafe place his hand on the back of your head to pull you slightly closer and plants a kiss on top of it before pulling back to look down at you.

"You just ran away without telling us. We were worried about you, kid." He explains, his tone is a tad firm but not too much, knowing you didn't mean to worry them so much.

"M'sorry..." You mumble, now lowering your gaze to the ground in shame. "Jus' wanted to look at the plushies."

"Everything's okay now, at least we found you quickly." Sofia soothes your guilt, kissing your cheek in reassurance. Afterwards she turns her gaze to the bunny you wanted to show her.

She shares a look with Rafe and he rolls his eyes jokingly, grabbing the pastel colored bunny from the shelf. "This one looks a bit lonely here don't y'think? Better take it home." He says, handing it to you, a smile tugging on his lips when you smile again before going to hug him and he pats your back.

Taglist

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @devilslilbabysblog @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @wandaslittlewhore @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse

@mythixmagic @iris-xoxo-juhu

For Rafe:

@chiaraanatra @chimindity @erikasurfer

[signedkoko]

Signed with Love - Helluva Cast

What is this? - A valentines gift to my lovely readers! Its valentines/love letters from your favourites 🖤

Characters - Blitzo | Fizzarolli | Loona | Millie | Moxxie | Stolas | Striker | Verosika | Wally Wackford

Series Parts Hazbin Cast - Here! Overlords & Sins - Here!

Dear, Hey, Whats up

Oh what the hell, just be my valentine, we both know its about time I just fuckin ask.

I can't promise anything lavish, but what I do have is a kitchen and a comfortable couch. Maybe you can try showing me how to bake and we can eat what we make while watching some shitty romcoms.

Whatever makes you happy,

Oh come on, you know who wrote this.

Heeellloooooo!

I know you are usually the one to ask, but this year I wanted to change things up a little! Be my valentine?

While we could go somewhere crowded and wait forever for food, I thought maybe this year we could stay home, order a bunch of takeout, and spend time together?

And of course, I love you,

"Froggie"

Don't freak out,

I swear this isn't a ransom note, I just wasn't sure how else to ask you to be my valentine.

You know how we both wanted to go to the lovesick festival but ti was sold out? Well, don't ask how but I got tickets. Now we can go watch idiots get drunk and pass out in front of their girlfriends, and enjoy a bunch of our fav bands.

Outfit theme: Hot as fuck?

X Loona

Hi sweetie!

I know technically it's your turn for valentines this year, but I know you've been busy and I wanted to surprise you!

My parents called and told me they need someone to house sit while they are away for the week, so we could enjoy valentines on the ranch and I can show you my home! Especially the food and festivals I always tell you about.

Happy Valentines ❣

Millie

Hi dear ❣

Maybe it's getting old by now, but for yet another year I would love to have you as my valentine.

I don't know where I'd be without you, you make my hellish work at least a tad bit bearable and inspire me every day. I've already had to erase several rambles, so I'll save the rest of the sweet talk for the date. Just be ready in formal attire for 6, because we have a show to catch!

I'm sure you'll look amazing ❣

— Moxx

To the sweetest one I know,

I've been inspired by the books I've been reading to handwrite a letter to you, so you have something to keep for memory sake.

To have you by my side for another valentines is a dream come true, last year you pulled together such an amazing evening that I can only hope to outdo tonight. I would like to take you to see the stars, I know you've always asked and I believe it is about time.

Thank you for being mine,

Prince Stolas

Howdy darlin'

While originally I wasn't going to be home on time, I made sure to finish up this mission early so I can be there with ya for valentines. I'd call, but I know you swoon for romantic gestures, dontcha?

I'll handle all the details of our outing, just relax and don't worry your pretty head about a darn thing.

Can't wait to get home and see you again,

Who else?

Miss me?

I had to head out for a gig early, so sorry I couldn't catch you at the door before I left! I hope this note will suffice in the mean time.

Since I can't bring you, I have a limo headed to pick you up around five, that should give you time to get ready for the concert! Your pass is with the driver, and you've got front row seats, kay? I better see you cheering for me ❣

Happy valentines day,

Mayday 💋

Greetings, I say I say,

It's not everyday sheepish imps such as myself get such a heavenly opportunity to court a sweet thing like yourself!

For you, and you only my dear, I will spend such a lucritive holiday with my one and only. Should you accept, I am pleased to inform you that we have been invited to Ozzie's! Isn't he the kindest?

x x x x x x x

W. WACKFORD

Authors Note - Okay be honest with me WHO ARE WE ACCEPTING A LETTER FROM?? I gotta know,,, This is the last of the valentines series, I hope you all enjoyed!

[restinslices]

Hello! I just read your recent post on the lin Kuei trio trying to bring back the reader's memories after it has been tainted and was wondering if you could do part 2 where the trio finally succeeded in restoring the reader's memories?

I haven’t seen those movies in awhile but I googled it and apparently only therapy can help? I went off what Google said. No gifs cause I got lazy. I ain’t even finna lie to you

Bi-Han doesn't show it, but he's in so much pain 

It's not because everytime you see him, you try to kill him 

If hating him for the rest of your life meant that you'd be happy, he'd take it 

But you're not happy. It's not a bad breakup and you hate him but at least you're living life. No. You have insane PTSD from the torture you endured 

When he's told that the only way to help you is therapy, he's a tad bit irritated 

Therapy takes too long. He wishes he could fight some enemies, use some magic, then boom. Everything's okay 

Speaking of those enemies though, he's definitely tracking them down and killing them 

He finds it difficult to watch your therapy sessions so he distracts himself with duties 

After a few failed tests, you're finally able to be in the same room as him without trying to kill him 

When he sees you look at him with love instead of hatred, all his tension is released 

Your memories are still a little wonky but you're healed enough to know that they're manipulated 

He's more than happy to tell you what really happened and make new memories with you 

He's more soft afterwards because he's afraid of triggering you 

It takes a lot of work but he's willing to do all of it if it means you'll be okay with him holding you again 

Seeing you be so terrified of him is like a living nightmare 

It's such a difficult situation because there's no easy way to help you 

It's not like a broken bone. You've been made to fear him and your memories are tainted

Therapy is the only thing that can help you 

It takes a while, and he hates it 

He's told to avoid face to face contact with you during your recovery 

So he watches you sneakily 

He watches you rediscover your memories day by day

When you ask to see him, he's a bit nervous, but he knows that that means progress has been made 

He lets you set the pace of the conversation 

Whenever there's silence, he doesn't try to fill it. He knows you need the time to gather your thoughts 

Your hand is shaky when you reach for him. He wants to try and close the space but he doesn't. He lets you take your time reaching for his hand 

When you finally touch it feels like weights have been lifted off his shoulders 

You're not 100% healed but you're making great progress. You being able to stand being around him is such a huge thing to him 

He helps you whenever you get confused and is extremely patient with you 

Definitely believes you'll make a full recovery 

After the first encounter and you trying to kill him, nobody could blame him for becoming depressed 

You were extremely volatile towards him 

Anytime you saw him you immediately tried to attack him 

When he's told therapy is the only thing that can help you, he wants to be hopeful but it's hard to 

Therapy takes time and there's no guarantee it'll even work 

He sends you gifts during your recovery. Sometimes he won't sign it so you're more willing to accept it 

Exposure therapy exhausts him, but he keeps doing it for you 

One day though your demeanor is different 

You don't rush at him or tell him to get out 

You're quiet and still. He lets the silence stay 

“I don't know what's real and what's not anymore”

“You're trying” he'd say. “That's all that matters. And I'll help you”

It gets quiet again 

You walk over to him, and instead of attacking him, you pull him into a tight embrace 

It takes him a moment to understand what's happening. Once he does, he hugs you back 

“You loved me. Real or fake?”

“I love you, and it's all real”

You two just stay like that for a while. He has no idea what's going on in your head, but in his he's ecstatic 

There was hope. As long as there was a hope, even a sliver of it, he wouldn't give up on you 

He stays by your side the entire time. Watching you slowly but surely go out of your way to be around him excites him 

He has tons of pictures and he shows you them and explains what happened whenever you get confused 

He's delighted to have you back 

[maikissed]

cherry flavoured lips part 5

Kylian Mbappéx reader

summary: No pretence, no lies, no avoidance. Just them and nothing around to ruin it. At last. She only regretted that they made it harder for themselves to achieve it.

warning: smut

note: I've been struggling with the smut. Ended up hating it LOL.

She was angry, to say the least. She did not have any organized plan or vision for the future tucked up in her head, that she would find now ruined and lost after Ian unceremoniously left her. And she was not upset, or heartbroken, oh that she definitely wasn’t. She focused for a minute, tried to find a minuscule source that might have given her any sign that deep inside she was in fact sorrowful after being rejected, or was she? Truthfully, she was the one that initiated this unprecedented conversation between them. And as the result was expected and anticipated even, she still found herself mad at how it all turned out at the end. Like she found herself at the same miserable spot she was in before.

“It was a very simple question, Ian” she articulated calmly.

Ian seemed irritated, uncomfortable.

“You are asking if I love you, but cannot give me a straight answer yourself” he commented, gazing up at her.

She was standing so unnatural and stiffly, facing him, towering over him, like they were going through some kind of trial. She was the prosecutor, and he was the suspect waiting for more charges fired his way. Yet the roles might be reversed in a blink of an eye and there was a high possibility that it would be her facing the death penalty at the very end. Who was going to pass the sentence? Her palms were itching.

“I asked you first, it’s important to me” bold, cool and reserved.

“So my answer defines yours? That’s how you see it?” he squinted his eyes searching for a trick, a deceit.

He turned distrustful. She was aware what caused it.

She sighed, dropping her arms, already feeling worn out by this conversation.

“Do you know how I see it?” Ian started after few seconds and she turned her head back to him in alert “I think you’re running from something and that exhausting getaway has pushed you into my arms” he nodded and she frowned in question “I am not blind, y/n, I can tell that the only person you really want is him”

She said nothing, swallowing something big and bulky that started to form in her throat. No words came out still, she just shook her head. In her own defence? A mere, pitiful try. 

“Why are you doing this? Are you trying to punish him or yourself? Because clearly this is not about me” he seemed to enjoy this upper hand. But there was a dull ache visible in his eyes, like he felt deceived “That is actually funny to be honest, even when we are having sex you seem disappointed when you open your eyes and look at me”

“Oh, what in the hell, Ian?” she moaned in resentment, feeling uncomfortable under his investigating stare. And agitated by the choice of his words.

She turned into a suspect, much closer now to be announced as convict. 

“You know what, I’m sorry” he reached with his hand to scratch his brow “I don’t want to fight with you like that. I am not angry with you, just feel a little used, that is all” he muttered softly and as he looked down at his hand and then back up at her the ache made place for generous ease. He was waiting for a perfect moment to let it all out, she gave him one.

And her? She was not sorrowful, she did not feel the despair flooding her heart and sinking it at the bottom of her stomach. She took one deep breath and wondered when the feeling of love turned her into a stone. A cold statue, an insensitive performer. She toyed with him all this time. And that thought actually made her a tad sullen.

“I’ll pack my things, I have a flight back to London in three hours” were Ian’s next words.

She shuddered, bringing her gaze back to him.

“I am sorry” her voice weak and abashed “It was not my intention to treat you this way” and this was an honest confession.

And he smiled at her in answer, almost like realising how everything sooner or later falls back in it’s place.

-

Fleur very much enjoyed when Ethan and Kylian were visiting with their parents, joining the family for a dinner from time to time. She liked the company of these two boys and their father, Wilfried was absolutely one of the most entertaining people she knew. He liked to narrate the most captivating stories and was not irritated by her oh so many questions she liked to throw in in the middle of his story. He was very patient, her father was too, but she knew her father too well for him to be so amusing. Fayza, on the other hand, was giving off the impression of a very intense and fierce woman, that’s why Fleur was watching herself to not be too pushy towards her, although she was kind and lovely. It was her demeanour that brought much respect in Fleur, for she made sure to be polite and careful. Still at the end of the day she was a sweet aunt.

“Ethan, are you growing out your hair?” she started in her funny, so much adult voice and the boy smiled at her after he greeted her.

“Yes, kind of” he grinned “Do you think it suits me?”

“Not really” she shrugged carelessly and then her ears reached a characteristic laugh from behind them.

She was always playful with Ethan, because he was playful with her. She beamed when she noticed Kylian enter the anteroom.

As she reached with her arms to hug him she could not fight the excitation over the news she so desperately wanted to announce to him. Maybe it was not her place, but she just… couldn’t keep it in.

“They’ve broken up, you know” she smiled sheepishly and he kneeled in front of her handing her a sweet little bouquet of flowers.

“Who?” he knitted his brows questioningly.

A bigger bouquet in his other hand, probably for Fleur’s mother. And a lovely present bag under it.

“Y/n and Ian” she rolled her eyes in a “duh” kind of manner “Good for her, I feel like he was sucking out the life out of her, can you believe it?” she huffed in displease.

“Well, people bond and sometimes part, that’s the way of life” seemed like a proper answer to this young girl.

It almost made him laugh out loud when he noticed her judgemental frown as she stared at him. Something like “don’t give me shit right now”, he could tell because her sister often graced him with this type of face. Her beautiful, lovely and stubborn sister he could not wait to see tonight. He hoped she was here.

“We shouldn’t bond with people that are just not right for us, isn’t it true?” she asked.

“Yes, it’s very much true, Fleur. However sometimes it’s not so obvious at the beginning. You just get to know the person with time”

“Yeah, well” her face turned serious again, aristocratic and modest “You and her were always great together, I cannot fathom how you did not bond since you are clearly idiotically in love with each other” she just shrugged, sinking her nose in the flowers she held now with both hands “Come, the dinner is almost ready” she said simply when she turned around.

Fleur was too smart for her own good. And Kylian stood there for few more seconds, dumbfounded.

When he finally came back to his senses he entered the dining room when everybody gathered but y/n was nowhere to be seen. It was her mother that obviously noticed his curiosity and after thanking for the beautiful flowers he picked for her, mentioned that she was in the kitchen, finishing preparing the food. And of course he decided to see her first, hoping that they were not bound the spend an uncomfortable evening.

He entered the room silently, spotting her standing over the kitchen counter, a knife in her hand and vegetables on the board in front of her. She was facing him but did not notice him at first. But with the corner of her eye she could spot the movement and raised her head to finally see who has joined her. Sharp chop on the board was the first thing, the next thing he could her was her pained cry.

“Ah, shit!” she yelped holding up her hand.

And without any thought he ran up to her, to see if she’s alright. She stared at her palm as he neared her and he knew very well what was coming. She could not stand the sight of blood, it made her dizzy and nauseous, she was afraid of needles since the earliest days. So he wrapped his arm around her middle, catching her injured and bloody hand below the wrist with the other.

“One step back, to the sink” he instructed calmly, and he could feel she begun to slump in his hold.

There was a lot of blood, already dripping on his fingers. But as he put her fingers under the running water he could see that stitches were not necessary, the knife just properly scratched the pad of her middle finger.

“It’s alright, just a tiny little cut” he murmured, examining her hand, looking for any additional cuts.

“Mhm” she breathed on his cheek and when he raised his head, he noticed she was looking at him all this time.

The proximity, her big, round, shaken eyes stunned him for a moment. But he had to move, she needed and aid.

“You just need a bandage. Can you stand on your own?” he made sure, slowly and very carefully backing his hand away from her waist. 

She nodded slowly, still looking at him, and he lingered for just a short moment before rushing in the direction of the medicine cabinet. And this little incident end up with her finger decently secured with a quite big amount of bandage and tape. She snickered at the sight of it, and after considering it for a moment, she actually brought her hand up, curling other fingers down to grace him with a rude gesture, her puppet looking like finger almost in his face.

“Come on, I did a decent job” he frowned before smiling at her softly.

“You did, thank you” and she smiled back at him “If it weren’t for you I’d probably faint and bleed myself to death” she joked looking back at the vegetables awaiting on the chopping board.

“Your cells have the capacity of sealing such cut back together themselves, you know?” he muttered carelessly, reaching for the knife to finish her job himself. He would not let her ruin the bandage now.

“Oh, wow there, Sherlock. I was kidding and I was paying attention in anatomy class for your information” she snickered taking a step to the side to let him take her place.

“Of course you were” he snorted, but meaning what he said, looking at her playfully.

She looked calmer and healthier. He was glad. She blinked like finally realising he was here with her and they were at last having an easy and warm conversation. Maybe she was glad too. For a moment there was silence, but she lingered close to him.

“Those are too big, cut them smaller” she almost whispered while she inspected his cucumber cutting abilities.

“Keep your fingers away, please” he muttered indignantly and she actually laughed out loud.

“Sorry” she breathed and he resumed. But there was something tender about this word as she voiced it out “I really am sorry, Kylian” now, it was a whisper.

Yet he was determined to keep on cutting the cucumber, something in him turned defensive and he was worried she at last would put him in his place. As a friend, as a childhood companion, like it used to be before. But she could not have it like that, so she reached with her hand and delicately placed it over his forearm. So he had no choice but to look at her. And he was seeing her, seeing her fully, and there, in the reflection of her beautiful, glimmering eyes he could spot his absolute devotion, his dedication, he could see it clearly. Could she?

“Love is a scary emotion” her voice quiet and careful, her eyes looking down at his lips for a moment, but out of bashfulness “I thought I was doing the right thing for myself, but instead I put myself in endless misery” she confidently continued “I am so sorry for pushing you away and you have every right to hate me for it”

“Nothing in this world would make me hate you. There’s not a thing I would not forgive you for” he opposed, feeling hurt at the thought that she was drawing such conclusions.

“Don’t say that” she frowned, her eyes turning even bigger “I’ve hurt you, I did an awful thing, admit it. I own you an honest apology, then you might consider if I deserve forgiveness” her voice breaking, her palms shaking, her eyes turning wetter, but she stood her ground, did not hide her emotions.

So he turned to her, making sure that every word he intended to say next she would find honest and real. And right.

“I acted up at the start, but the truth is that I would wait for you as long as it takes, I would step down, move into the shadow of your life, stop being an obstacle” she started to shake her head after, wanting to disagree, wanting to let him know that she did not see him that way, but he continued “I would be patient, I would let you make the choices that are right for you, because you are your own person. But I would be here, waiting, even if it meant waiting for the rest of my life, because you are my choice. And it would be my choice and I am okay with it, because I love you and I loved you long before I could understand what love actually is. That’s why you don’t have to say anything for I have already forgiven you”

A little sob broke out of her chest and she quickly turned her head to the side to hide her obvious tears streaming down her face.

“Hey” he whispered “It was not my intention to make you cry like this” and he reached for her hand to stop her from hiding her emotions. But delicately and considerably, wanting to be nothing but gentle. Her body was shaking with more sobs.

She turned back to him and started nodding like a little girl making peace with her subtle outburst of emotion. It made him smile at her.

“Loves, where are the salads?” y/n’s mother surprised them by unexpectedly charging into the room, halting at the doors after noticing the sight in front of her. Y/n turned to the other side so she could not notice her red and swollen face, her hand reaching up to wipe the cheeks dry “Sorry, is everything alright?” she asked, slightly embarrassed “What’s happened to your finger, y/n?”

Y/n sniffled before answering:

“I shoved it up his ass” she muttered quite frankly, before wrapping an arm around Kylian’s bicep, then she simply put her head on his shoulder.

He started to shake with laughter, trying to compose himself but truthfully found it difficult. He laughed out and y/n accompanied him.

“Oh, how funny you are” she sneered at her daughter but there was a gentle smile as well that finally broke on her face “Alright, you have five more minutes, lovebirds. Then I want my salads on the table”

-

Are you asleep?

She sent the message and begun to stare at the screen of her phone with gnawing impatience. She hoped he was awake as well. She itched with need to have him close, only today realising the size of the desolation that has grown in her heart when they parted. Their whole family stayed for the night, as they often used to when visiting their home on the countryside. She perceived their previous conversation unfinished and still felt like she owed Kylian more explanation. His confession, on the other hand, was nothing she could ever expect, not because she was hesitant to believe in honesty of his words, but for the reason that he drew it out so naturally, without any strain or difficulty. Almost like he unveiled the hidden truth of life everyone desire to find, using the simplest words. That is how it sounded to her, and she wasn’t very sure how she was supposed to handle it now. He was not terrified by it, he expected nothing while giving her his all. She was afraid she was not so experienced in the art of love, she worried she was not fit for it.

He answered the message after a while and she realised she drifted off in thought.

Non, why aren’t you asleep?

She typed back the answer with no hesitation.

Come to me?

And it didn’t take him long because just few minutes later she could hear gentle knock on the door to her room, so she jumped out her bed and run up to let him in. She smiled as soon as she saw him.

“It’s your birthday in twenty minutes” he murmured, holding up a little present bag in front of him.

“Good” she whispered “I wanted to spend it with you” she took the bag and then reached for his hand to guide him inside “Do you mind if I open it later? It is a bad luck to open the present before actual birthday day” she asked while placing it on the dresser near the door.

“You are way too superstitious” he snickered and she rolled her eyes at his answer.

“Maybe, but it kept me safe to this day”

Kylian shot her a mocking look and she laughed at his reaction, only then realising that they were still holding hands. She looked down at them as they stayed joined, feeling affection rising in her chest. She enjoyed this feeling. And she wanted him closer. So she took a step back to guide them to her bed so they could rest. He followed and they sat down comfortably at the edge of it.

“I was afraid this year would be the first time I’d spend my birthday without you”

He just smiled at her warmly and she took a deep breath, suddenly realising that she calmed much more when he was here. When he was listening and looking at her.

“I’ve put myself in this emotional prison, knowing that I was doing the exact opposite of what my heart called for” she murmured switching from looking at his face and back at their hands “I piqued Ian purposefully, I am a coward and I did not know how to free myself, so I was glad when he turned out to be aware of everything. But I was so distressed by what I’ve done, I thought you would never want me back”

He squeezed her hand reassuringly, this time letting her speak whatever she needed to let out. Giving her time and space for it. But at this point the nervousness hit her strong back again, because she was worried she was not so good with words like he was. She was not used to it. But the words she was so desperately trying to reach were the most perfect ones. The right ones. She decided on moving a tad closer to him, his warmth and scent wrapping around her.

“So…” she started and there was a cheeky smirk that appeared on his lips.

He was so definitely going to tease her now. She guessed not much has changed, but it was a good sign. And he was so handsome, she wanted to punch him in the face.

“So what, miss eloquence?” he muttered and her heart skipped a bit when his low voice reached her ears.

“Don’t make fun of me now” she whispered, it was not her intention but she whispered, realising that all her senses were now filled with him, the spark in his eyes, his breathing, his touch.

“I am not” he opposed, reaching with his hand to gently stroke her cheek, his knuckles lovingly grazing the skin.

Delicate and tender, she felt the touch with her whole body, within her soul.

“Je t'aime” she whispered while leaning even closer to him, but lingering, wanting to make sure that he still felt that way. That nothing changed during the evening, that he did not change his mind.

She looked him in the eye and there it was again, the simplicity, the obviousness, that sweet spark in his eyes and a smile on his face, and all of it – so serene. And as she finally said it, addressing this confession to him, she realised there was no grand secret, no hidden truth of life, but the only truth of one’s heart. And she was free. His love was the only one to grant her that freedom.

“Didn’t hear you properly” he said “Could you repeat?”

She sniggered at that but reached with her hands to wrap them around his neck, leaning closer to softly whisper into his ear:

“I love you, Kylian” she sang “You and only you” she smiled “I love you”

His arm wrapped tighter around her and she moved so she could face him again. She knew that look in his eyes, so dark, so soft and sparkly.

“One more time”

She giggled. A stronger beat of her heart and she kissed him, a delicate peck on the lips, he hummed as she leaned back.

“I love you” she kissed him again and another “I love you” after.

The next kiss lingered, he let her guide it on her own pace, maybe because he regretted the times when he was more demanding on this part, when he kissed her or touched her ways that weren’t proper many times before. She pressed onto him, adding more fervency into this contact, soft but sure touches, she begun to move, trying to be closer, trying to take more and more. But as soon as he felt her mouth opening slightly, he broke the kiss and his lips followed a path, from the corner of her lips, to her jaw, and then lower to her neck. Her fingers rested on his nape, she closed her eyes and let herself feel. He was being delicate, patient, savouring her, experiencing her. Slow, too slow, she started to burn, she realised. That funny and sweet little spot he reached and bit on delicately, send an intoxicating shot through her whole body and she jerked breathlessly. Many other places on her body yearned for his attention, yet he was not in a hurry. It was a way too precious moment for Kylian to rush anything. She enjoyed every second of this special attention, but there was much more, so much more she wanted. Her fingers timidly reached for the buttons of the little night sweater she was wearing, one undone, then another and then – he reached for her fingers when he finally noticed it. Her eyes hazy and lids heavy as she looked at him, he looked down, her breasts clad in a delicate bra already visible to him, beautiful, soft skin unveiled. He wanted to kiss her there. But, there was hesitation.

“We shouldn’t” he whispered “We are not alone”

“Everybody is asleep” she reached for another button, her eyes focused on his face, but his eyes could not fight the temptation to see another piece of her skin being unveiled “Their rooms are far” the last button undone.

She was not particularly nervous now, but her fingers shook as she grabbed the folds of the sweater and pulled it down her arms. She could see him swallow and she loved that to a great extent. So she stood up, in front of him, untying the little ribbon of her fluffy pants and let the garment fall off her hips. Slowly, as he seemed to enjoy, she put one knee at the side of his thigh, her hand reaching to him, resting against his cheek. His eyes locked with hers and she knew she had him there. He was mesmerized. She straddled him the next second, pressing her lips against his once more. The kiss finally deepened, his hands travelled from her waist to her back, his touch soothing her. She felt the same thrill she did when they were kissing in the orchards. She wanted to press him down on the mattress, but again he had other ideas. He pulled away and put his mouth on the skin under her collarbone. And again, he was savouring it. Slow, moist and adoring kisses reaching lower, and she gasped when he placed one on the still clothed nipple. He bit on it, a moan broke out from her throat, her head already a spinning mess. He raised his head with a little smile and surely captured her mouth. She moved against him, she could feel him, all of him. Never before she felt more alive.

“Can I?” he asked, while his hand still placed against her back moved higher, touching the clasp of her bra.

“Yes” the answer was rather quick.

He removed it without struggle and she smirked at him. She never truly enjoyed sex before, no one could really find out about it, but the fact that he was the only person that could awaken such strong elation in her was a little guilty secret of hers. Until now.

He took her hand in his, the left one, with the finger still clad in bandage, and sweetly kissed her knuckles. He still seemed to consider.

“Sit next to me” he instructed and she wondered, but did as he asked.

To her surprise he kneeled in front of her.

“I want to taste you” he stated confidently, removing the t-shirt he was wearing. She shivered.

Oh, God.

“Can I kiss you, love?” his voice was so steady but also alluring, she found herself struggle to speak.

So she nodded, trying to compose herself.

“I can’t hear you, I won’t do anything you don’t directly agree with” he caressed her calf as he said so. There was something demanding in his voice, but still gentle, no pressing.

“Yes, please” her voice shaky but sure.

His fingers travelled up and rested at her hips, grabbing the strings of her underwear. He was watching her expressions attentively, searching of any sings of discomfort. She rose her hips up, giving him none. And as it was foreseeable he dragged the material down her legs very slowly. She was sure she blushed heavily as they held the eye contact. For a moment she lost the sense of reality, arousement coming to her in more persistent waves. He smiled cheekily and she moved closer, more to the edge of the bed, being able to perfectly read off his request. And he did not move yet.

“A little wider, love” hotness spread all over the skin of her cheeks and neck again.

She felt a tad silly now, because once again there was no abashment in the way he touched her, or spoke to her or even looked at her. And despite the fact that this moment thrilled her greatly, she was also unsure, felt unprepared, like she was about to turn out not right for him, not fitted for his fantasy. It was an awful feeling.

“Do you want to change your mind?” his voice softer now. His eyes on the other hand not. He wanted her. Badly.

“No” she breathed, looking at him intensely. She wondered if her vastly beating heart could be the cause of her immediate death.

He was patiently kneeling in front of her, gazing up at her with his lovely and sparkly boyish eyes for goodness sake. 

“Then relax” he murmured, his fingers still gently drawing lines down and up her calf “I want you to enjoy it”

Part of her wanted to look the other way, yet bigger part wanted to observe him while she opened her legs for him. Breath stuck in her throat when the intensity of this moment hit her momentarily.

“More” he rasped and she groaned softly, looking into his eyes that turned darker and darker by every second.

“Like that?” she asked weakly, her hands desperately clutching the sheets behind her, she was burning.

He liked the way she asked the question, he hummed and smiled at her, before lowering his head to place a kiss on the inside of her thigh. She took a big breath in.

“As much as I would love to hear you, I must ask you to be quiet” she almost whined hearing his low voice, but did her best to nod in agreement.

This time he granted her his mercy, not prolonging it much, maybe because he grew impatient to finally have her. While his hands securely held her open for him, his mouth found it’s way to her cunt. It seemed to happen very suddenly, her hips jerked uncontrollably and she gasped at the contact. Softly and gently he begun to pleasure her, she could sense that he was watching her, but could not find the confidence to meet his gaze. His hand squeezed her thigh, putting it up to let it rest on his shoulder. His tongue pressing surer against her, while his lips were delicate in their caress. She gasped and jerked up once more. Everything felt wet, his mouth hot against her, his tongue precise. Very unexpectedly he groaned against her, and it stunned her significantly, making her body tense and her eyes shot open. A sharp gasp that left her met a little moan, it sounded out like a hiccup.

“Why don’t you look at me, darling?” he murmured and she swallowed hard.

She was familiar with Kylian’s domineering attitude and quite stout ego, she always imagined it’s influence on his sex life. He was being considerate enough with her now, she wondered what will happen once he finish restraining himself. Chills ran down her spine. She yearned to experience it all. So she directed her gaze lower and the look in his eyes was shattering and overwhelming, so hot, she moaned out loud shamelessly, her right hand quickly shot up to cover her mouth. That’s when he chuckled and that’s when she simply could not stop everything that came next. It was quicker than she suspected. Too weak to keep herself up, she fell on her back, both of her legs now wrapped around his head, her hands delicately grazing his hair as if trying to keep him close to her at all cost, but no pressure in her touch.

“Kylian” she breathed, too quiet “Ky…” he sucked on it now “Kylian” she whined, louder.

And it was too much. She had to clasp her hand over her mouth again, most of her cries muffled, but still prominent in the room. Her body moved on it’s own accord, her head rolling around almost spasmodically. She was feeling lighter now, with her eyes closed she could not really specify where she was. She could remember it was her room, and her bed, but her mind stopped registering it properly. There was nothing more then her flesh, her senses directed only to experience the ecstasy of the upcoming pinnacle, a burst of euphoria. She wasn’t even sure if she was still breathing, but could tell her chest was moving rapidly. As the first wave hit her, she almost choked on her own breath, as the second appeared she expected it to bring a few more that fades quickly and leaves her hazy and light. But shockingly there was more, and more, and more, and it felt like her soul started to leave her body. She could not keep up with it, she was not prepared for it. Was she making noises? Was she loud? Was her mouth covered? Did she pass out?

She felt the mattress bent next to her. Her eyes still closed. She could hear her breathing despite the ringing in her ears. She could feel her fingertips again, weakly moving against the sheets.

“Hey” a whisper, close to her ear, she leaned into it “Are you alright, love?” she smiled, it was a lovely voice, soothing and sweet.

“Mhm” she murmured and very slowly opened her eyes to look at him.

He looked different. And one look at him made something in her insides jump. She was back in her body.

“You need to rest”

“No” she opposed, her hand flying up to touch him. Delicate, as she grazed his lips with her fingertips.

“I think yes” he laughed.

“I think you just gave me two orgasms in one take. Or more, I am not even sure now” this seriously spoken sentence made him laugh again. His lips flexed under her touch “But I want you now”

A big intake of breath as he considered her plea. She was fine, she could take him, she was not drained or sleepy, simply astounded or even blown away. She felt bolder now, more determined when she rose on her elbows to reach him, pressing a kiss on his lips. He grew weaker when she kissed him like this, softly but surely, with her nails lightly scratching the skin on his chest. She took advantage of this moment and pressed on him, making him lay down on the bed. He seemed stunned when she sat up, on top of him, her hands already resting on the clasp of his belt. She could notice him swallow but there was another of his shameless smirk appearing on his lips.

“What’s so amusing?” she jested.

“Your persistence. I adore it” he sat up, his hand sneaking around her middle and before she could comprehend his intention, he simply grasped her, turning them so she laid on her back again. 

She could start up a heated conversation about his own stubbornness at this point, but the idea started to quickly fade in her head as she watched him unbuckle the belt after he stood up. The intensity in his gaze was drawing her to him, she felt the same impatience once more. She reached for him desperately when he joined her, her legs already at either side of him, inviting him, keeping him in, close, closer. No pretence, no lies, no avoidance. Just them and nothing around to ruin it. At last. She only regretted that they made it harder for themselves to achieve it.

“Make love to me now” she hummed before kissing him.

[bardicindignation]

Wild, Spaghetti on the Wall Theory Time

Braius Doomseed is NOT a paladin of Asmodeus.

Based on Subclass choices, vibes, and the Sam with the out of nowhere curveball character trend that we all know and love. Sticking the rest under a read more bc this got...long.

I know it sounds crazy, but hear me out! Sam always has a curve-ball in his back pocket with the characters he plays from Scanlan to FCG, we all know this. It's possible that the back pocket deal is gonna be a last-minute betrayal bc, yk, Asmodeus but! BUT!!! Braius can cast Moonbeam, and since, according to his character wiki he's at least a ninth level paladin, he doesn't yet have the 10th bard feature that allows him to pull spells from other classes even when you're not College of Lore (he's a Tragedy Bard). This means that he's either Oath of Watchers or Ancients, and while Watcher's could make sense for the fight against Predathos regardless of what god Braius follows...that's a lot of paladin levels to have been brought out just since the gods were aware of the situation (like, a couple weeks I think?) and neither super seems like an Asmodeus associated Oath. (As opposed to, say, Crown or Conquest, or Vengeance, or Oathbreakder.) Plus, Tevan had no fucking clue who he was, and it seems like one of Asmodeus's lieutenants might be appraised of a high level follower of his Lord being tasked with going directly after Asmodeus. But Joy! You might say. Oath of the Watchers is pretty Neutral, and he could have just ! What about the sign he god from the ichor on the wall? Why would the god of Lies tell any of his followers shit? And if not Asmodeus who the fuck is Braius following??? Ok, so, first off, let's break down the Oath. I really, really, think that it's gotta be Watchers if Braius is really a follower of Asmodeus bc Ancients is not only heavily nature aligned (not something that the Lord of the Hells is at all associated with) but the language of the description of the Oath also seems heavily aligned with good (I mean just look at the tenents) and...y'all. I don't think Braius is a Watchers Paladin. First off, Sam never once asked (to my memory) about who was within 10 ft of him at the start of initiative, when Watchers would have given all of those people a bump on their initiative. Now, this could be 'new character who dis' except. Except. Sam did consistently ask Matt if people who were within 10 feet of him who were being targeted with Delilah shit were getting hit with spell damage.

Here's the Aura of Warding from the dndwikidot page on Oath of the Ancients:

"Beginning at 7th level, ancient magic lies so heavily upon you that it forms an eldritch ward. You and friendly creatures within 10 feet of you have resistance to damage from spells." Oath. Of. The. Ancients. Bitch. (also we learned that the name Doomseed came with the oath. Naaaatuuuuure. Also also, doesn't say who the doom is for) So next up, the symbol message...what the fuck was up with that? Just bc it was an Asmodeus symbol doesn't mean he's the only bitch who can interact with it...and it was specifically not coming from the structure of the symbol itself, just the run-off. This is not a super strong point, but Asmodeus is not the only god of trickery...but more on that later. Tevan Klask doesn't know who the fuck Braius is! Look, the Lord of the Hells is a lying-ass bitch. We all know this. It's entirely possible that he keeps his people out of the loop on each other. But he's gotta know that Tevan has a line to the people going in after Ludinus the most and it feels a tad weird that Hot Devil Man would have no knowledge of a high level paladin of his Lord doing the same damn thing.

Also, Braius didn't react, like, at all to Tevan getting banished by Ludinus which feels...a little weird. So. So. If not Asmodeus, then who? What other Trickery, Nature, romance (the flirting is constant which isn't necessarily a firm indicator but c'mon) alligned deity is out there with not only what is possibly the strongest connection to whatever the fuck is going on with Predathos, but also has direct experience with followers of one 'deity' masquerading as another which could have been extremely effective without actual divine intervention? That's right, it's the motherfucking Moonweaver!! Just going by her title, it's entirely possible that this bitch was ultimately responsible for trapping Predathos in the first place, and we've heard suspiciously little of her in C3. Her cleric domains include both Trickery and Nature, and she's heavily associated with deception, misdirection, lover's trysts, and moonlight.

Yk, like with a Moonbeam. Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.

(My second, last minute theory is that Sam's still playing a follower of Avandra who also has Moon, Trickery, and Nature under her domains. This would be extremely funny to me. Wait fuck I'm still saying Moonweaver for my first choice but the wiki is telling me that The Changebringer is the Archenemy of the Lord of the Hells...fuck. Fuck Sam did you do this Sam let me in your brainnnnn.)

[darkdemeter]

Y/N “WOLFIE’S” PANEL

—- not my gifs, credit to original posters! -—

(Platonic) Avengers cast x GN/Female/Male Reader Feat. on the panel: Elizabeth Olsen, Chris Evans, Sebastian Stan, Anthony Mackie & Robert Downey Jr.

A/N — So this was delayed at first because I'd kinda gotten second thoughts, then did a bit of research (just watched some of the cast in interviews and stuff). And then I thought "fuck it, write it." So I did just that. Though I'm not counting on this being "top tier" and very well may be the only time I do this sorta thing. Because I have come to realise when writing this... I CANNOT write celebrities, so great kudos to those who can, and also they make it look so easy!

WORD COUNT — 1.7k

READER DISCRETION — Nothing that should be potentially triggering— maybe slight insecure reader? Nothing really, just that little "did I do good?" y'know? — just Y/N with the avengers cast— Y/N being a little blushing, embarrassed mess

SUMMARY— You meet your fellow cast members on the panel for Comic Con, the debut for the final instalment to Habits of Mother Nature's Will releasing that weekend at the premiere.

You can read the columns here — HABITS OF MOTHER NATURE'S WILL HABITS OF MOTHER NATURE'S WILL II HABITS OF MOTHER NATURE'S WILL II: AFTERMATH

You never thought you would hear anything louder than the sound of applauding fans and cheers as your name was announced by the panel moderator.

You swaggered onto the stage, your outfit was casual but styled in a way that could pass for formal dress easily. Your hair styled to what you favoured most. 

You raised your arm up and waved to the crowd who roared with such vigour, you silently admitted to yourself it was a tad bit intimidating. But you were excited for this panel. To be beside your cast members who you had bonded with over the course of production, and to finally meet those who loved the project as well. 

The Avengers series had been a cinematic hit and when you signed the contract, had anyone told you that the three part short series would have been a major hit for audiences, you would have scoffed.

Your co-stars each turned and greeted you with grins as they waved you over. “There they are!” Chris announced into his microphone with a wide grin.

 You were assigned to sit between Lizzie and Chris. Anthony sat on Lizzie’s other side. 

“Where you been, Y/N? We missed you,” Anthony questioned you with a pout, hands forming a heart over his chest. You chuckled and held up your other hand that held a cup of coffee.

“I needed my fix, leave me alone,” you grumbled. Lizzie squeezed your shoulder lightly with a shake of her head, ushering the others to stop picking on you.

“And you didn’t bring me one,” Anthony tutted and Seb called after him, “the betrayal.”

The crowd laughed and cheered.

“So we were just about to get to the fans' questions, Y/N, and I don’t doubt a lot of them have questions about your character in particular,” the moderator said to you and you nodded. 

“Prepare yourself for marriage proposals, Y/N. There is always at least ten for each of us,” Robert said, his voice deep and calm over the mic system. 

Your face went bright red. “Well…” you wanted to swear out of habit, but you held your tongue, your head fell forward. “Dammit.”

More laughs came from the audience. The microphone was set up and any fans who had questions were directed to stand in the queue.

The first fan was a young woman, probably about college age. You leaned forward, your arms folded on the table and made your clothes pull against your frame and you looked intensely focused on the fan. Engaged with what they had to say.

The very act made quite a few people swoon and scream, only your eyes flickered to your cast mates with a raised brow.

“I think the proposals have increased quite a bit now,” Chris said with a smirk. It didn’t help relieve the flush in your face when a few whistles of agreement followed his statement. 

The girl giggled nervously into the mic in front of her and you refocused your attention on her. “Hi,” she said through her giggles and you nodded, hand lifting slightly to wave. 

“Hey, how are you?” you asked and she nodded, “good thank you. I just want to say personally I’m a huge fan of the character, C/N, and I just wanted to ask you how you felt when you got the role to portray them?”

You raised your brows under the weight of the question. You smiled and thanked her for the question. “Hmm, well, I’m not gonna lie it felt scary that I wouldn’t be able to portray the character, but the script writer and director - along with my cast members - they really helped me where I felt I lacked in providing the performance that C/N would. So yeah, thank you for that question, and I’m glad you enjoyed my take on the character, other than that it was a lot of fun.”

She beamed from ear to ear and nodded eagerly. She thanked you profusely and expressed her excitement to see Aftermath in cinemas. Elizabeth patted your hand with a smile. “You did good,” she uttered away from the microphone and you nodded in thanks.

Another fan walked up and greeted the cast. “So I want to know, who would win in a fight against each other: Bucky or C/N?”

“Uh, the correct answer, obviously, would be Ironman.” Robert’s interjection made the crowd fall into a frenzy of hysterics. You grinned, the act natural and your own that you made signature component for your character. 

“Remember who killed your parents,” Sebastian taunted and Robert smirked down the table his way. “Uh,” Sebastian began as he leaned back in thought for a moment, “I kinda want to say Bucky. I don’t think C/N could bring themselves to hurt him. So I think he’d use that to his advantage.”

When the fan inquired about your opinion, you shrugged with a tsk. “I think C/N would only win if someone hurt Wanda.” Your answer made the fans giddy, the uproar of cheers enough to bring the roof down like an earthquake. 

“I have to say that the fight sequence was so intense, I was on the edge of my seat the entire time. The cinema I was in was in such a state, I thought it was gonna get shut down,” the next fan began with a giggle. You and your fellow co-stars couldn’t help but chuckle and smile. It really did make you happy to know that you had done well to provide fans with such excitement. The Avenger films were great and adored by the fanbase, your only wish was that you wouldn’t let the dedicated members of the production and the fans down. 

“The fight choreography was brilliant and I wanted to ask what you could share about what went on behind the scenes? Like, how was all of that done?”

Oh, that was a loaded question. “Well…,” you chuckled, “let me first tell you that the entirety of my character fighting in their ‘wolf form’ was me. I did all the motion capture for that–” The room was filled with applaus. “Thank you. Yeah, my stunt double thought it would be funny to visit their family overseas and leave me to do all the motion capture. So I have them to thank for the harness that was riding my ass for the next couple of days,” you answered, though everyone could tell you only meant to tease, that you didn’t mean anything ill about it all. 

The experience of doing all the intense choreography was actually one of the most fun aspects you’d ever done in any of your productions thus far. 

Anthony laughed into his mic then. “I kid you not, we all have a video around twenty minutes long of Y/N doing the motion capture from the gag reel. And it’s hilarious,” he sighed at the end and earnt a laugh from the crowd. 

“It wasn’t easy, man,” you whined, “but– but when I had to do scenes that required a more realistic build, I was saved the embarrassment and actually we had my dog, D/N, do all the motion capture for that.”

A photo of your German Shepherd appeared on the screen above, your arms encircled around them, their head tilted and long tongue hung from their mouth. 

“They’re so cute!” a fan in the crowd shouted and you chuckled. “Damn adorable, I love them. I had to be on guard, I was scared Chris would take them home.”

Chris leaned over in his seat, hand slapped to his chest with a toothy grin as he cackled to himself. “I love that dog so much, what can I say?”

The fan thanked you for your time and walked back to their seat. The next fans were two girls, again around the age of college students walked up together. “Hi!” one of them greeted and the other looked incredibly shy, her friend held her close around the shoulders. 

“Hey there, how are you?” you asked again. You always asked how the fans were, a habit that was just natural. Human. Kind. 

“We’re good thanks. Uh, so this is my friend, Taylor,” she said and indicated to the other girl next to her. She waved and mumbled a meek hello into the mic. Your cheeks folded out into a smile, adoring the girl’s shyness. It was adorable. “And it’s her birthday and I want to ask if you could give her a little birthday present as your character, C/N, please? And with a cherry on top, add your wolf voice?”

Your tongue danced over your teeth as fans left, right and centre cheered and hollered. You could tell it was as much wanted by them as the fans asking for it themselves. “Just out of curiosity, who else is here for their birthday?” you asked and quite a large amount clapped in answer, a view yelled their response.

“Okay, so you can consider this a gift to you guys as well.” You sat forward and rolled your shoulders, getting into the mind of your character. 

“Happy Birthday, Taylor.” You stopped to let the fans burn out their screams before you continued. “Told you, marriage proposals all of them,” Robert commented just as you went to speak and you broke out of character for a moment, face palming your hand. 

“Go on, Wolfie, you gotta appease the fans,” Robert uttered with a wave of his hand to usher you on.

“I hope you have a wonderful birthday. Wanna play fetch some… sometime in the park?” Despite the momentary hiccup, unable to contain the embarrassed giggle in your throat as your face brightened, you finished. 

Even some of your castmates imitated getting flustered, even Lizzie herself fanned her face. Taylor hid her face in her palms and her friend thanked you. 

The other beauty of your performance was that the sound editors had little to do with mixing your vocals for the werewolf voices, you had a knack for making it naturally guttural and animalistic. 

Anthony snickered playfully. “So I think we can agree that Y/N “Wolfie” has taken over the panel. Can we get a shout or clap if you enjoyed Y/N’s performance of C/N?”

You don’t know how it was possible, but that was the loudest you’d heard the fans. 

[eddiexmunsonlover]

One Step Away From You (Chapter 10)

BSF!Eddie Munson x PlusSize!Fem!Reader

Follow my new blog for future chapters & fics @cherryxhaze

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Chapter Summary: You and Eddie attend the concert you gave him tickets to for Christmas. The concert and Eddie's birthday celebration bring up feelings that are getting harder to ignore. WC: 3.9k Warnings: MDNI. Explicit language. Underage drinking. Implied and assumed fatphobia. Descriptions of anxiety and emotional overwhelm. Lots of angst. I know, it's torture. I know this is a tad shorter of a chapter, but the end felt like a good place to separate it from the next chapter, which will be bigger and longer. Might even be the chapter we've all been waiting for, perhaps? And we've gotta have a bit more angst before we get there! Series taglist: @eddie-is-a-god @siriusmaraudeers @amandahobblepot @littlexdeaths

Thursday, January 16th, 1986

You study yourself in the mirror, contemplating your concert outfit with a level of uncertainty. You’ve decided to go bold, show a little more skin than usual. It is a rock concert, after all. 

Scandalously high-cut black shorts, fishnet tights, combat boots, a WASP shirt cut into a tank top, and your newly patched jean jacket to keep you warm from the winter air outside. Hair big, curled, and teased. Face fully beat. 

You look damn good, and you know it. You feel confident too as you look at yourself from different angles in the mirror. There’s no doubt you’ll be turning heads tonight, whether it’s from a place of judgment or lust.

For Eddie, it’s the latter. From the second you step out of the trailer, his eyes nearly bulge out of his head as they take you in. He quickly picks his jaw off the ground, clearing his throat as you near before you can notice the way he’s ogling you. He can’t erase the heat that’s gone right to his cheeks, however. At least he can blame the harsh winter air on that.

“You look… stunning, sweetheart.” He throws on his usual boyish smile, hoping it’s enough to hide his true reaction. You return the compliment with a shy smile, looking down at your outfit.

“You think so? You don’t think it’s too much or… too little?”

“No no no, you uh, it’s perfect. Trust me.” His reassuring smile calms your hesitation as you quickly follow him to the passenger side of the van. 

He holds the door open for you as usual, cursing himself and whatever cruel god there is when his eyes catch sight of your ass as you climb in. He huffs in frustration as he rounds the van to the driver's seat, wondering how the hell he’s going to keep it together tonight with you looking like this. He knows one thing for sure, it’s going to be a long one.

You spend the drive to Indianapolis blasting your WASP tapes, hyping yourselves up for the show. Big grins as you sing and bang your heads together to the beat. Excitedly sharing what songs you hope the bands play as the mile markers on the highway fly by. Before long, you see exit signs for downtown Indianapolis. 

From the passenger seat, you let your eyes roam along the buildings littering the city, people walking along the sidewalks. Spotting the concert goers within them walking toward the arena. Friends, couples, strangers. You wonder what their lives are like, thousands of different people converging in one spot for the same purpose.

The van comes to a halt amongst a sea of cars outside the arena, bright lights shooting off the building and illuminating the parking lot. You and Eddie practically skip the distance from the van to the line outside the doors. After a short wait, you’re inside and amongst crowded halls of people roaming the arena. The merch table catches your eye, you pat Eddie on the shoulder. 

“Wanna get some merch before the show starts?” He gives you a wary look as he sees the line for the table. “We’ve got time, plus once we get out there you’re not gonna want to leave the floor.”

You know him too well. He finally nods and you’re off. 

You both look over the plethora of different tour shirts for WASP and KISS, contemplating which ones you wanna get. When it’s finally your turn, you pick out your shirts. Before Eddie can fish for his wallet, you quickly pull out yours and hand the attendant the cash.

“Uh, wha- Hey, I can pay for that”

You give him a soft smile as you pass his new WASP shirt to him.

“Your birthday is next week, Eds. Consider it an early birthday gift.”

“You’re too good to me, sweetheart.” He throws his arm around your shoulder, leading you away from the merch table and back into the crowd.

As you walk through the crowded halls and wait at the bar for drinks with Eddie’s arm draped over you, your wandering eyes catch onto ones staring at you in judgment. Normally, you’d be unfazed, it’s far from the first time strangers have stared at you in a less than friendly way. But as you meet the eyes of multiple girls, pretty and skinny, you can’t help but feel like they’re not just judging you, they’re judging you standing next to the smokeshow that is Eddie with his arm around you. Assuming you’re with him. Wondering why the hell he’d be with a girl like you. 

It’s no surprise to you that outside of the small town of Hawkins, Eddie would be seen for the attractive guy he is, especially within the scene. That notion is not extended to you however, plus-size body not fully accepted even within the confines of a crowd of outcasts by society’s standards.

When Eddie hands you a cup of beer, you quickly begin taking sips. Hoping the alcohol will calm your anxieties as you move your way back through the crowds, making an effort to not meet the eyes of anyone but Eddie’s.

As you make your way onto the floor, Eddie quickly takes your hand in his. Leading and weaving his way through the crowd with you in tow, falling in close step behind him through the hundreds of warm bodies already filling the floor ahead of the show’s opener. The crowd is overwhelming enough to your senses that you don’t think much of your hand in his, a typical action friends take together at concerts, after all. When he finds a spot close enough for you to see with enough space to move, he pulls you up next to him. 

Shoulder to shoulder, sipping on your beers as you listen to the soundcheck. Anticipation fills your bodies until the sound of chatter from the surrounding crowd silences at the first note of the first song of the night from WASP, quickly turning into a loud cheer that you and Eddie join in on. You’re quickly immersed and pulled in as the bass and drums reverberate through the air and into your body. The colorful flashing lights, leather clad band members in ass-less chaps and high heels. The show, alcohol, and Eddie’s loud singing next to you fully flushing out any anxiety and worry from your mind. You’re fully living in the moment; jumping, headbanging and singing your favorite WASP songs together. 

When you look next to you and see Eddie smiling wide as he shouts the lyrics, you’re filled with an indescribable feeling. 

Satisfaction, fulfillment, happiness. 

Knowing you were able to give Eddie this opportunity to see one of his favorite bands and seeing the joy it’s bringing him.

Love.

His gleaming eyes turn to meet yours in excitement, pulling you back into the moment with him as the last song of the set begins. Screaming at the top of your lungs when the band finishes, wishing the crowd a farewell before the roadies take over to change the stage over for KISS.

You take deep breaths with Eddie as the energy fades.

“That… was metal.” he exhales, ending with an excited giggle as you bump your shoulder into his. Sweat making your bangs cling to your foreheads. You slide off your jacket, wrapping it around your waist to help you cool down before KISS’s set begins, the first time either of you have ever seen their show.

They open with Detroit Rock City, immediately lighting up the crowd. You and Eddie bob your heads around, laughing as you dance around each other, singing along to every word. You feel so light in this moment with him, so carefree.

You make me feel like I am fun again.

Neither of you know every song in the setlist, but you dance around and headbang to them like you do. Just fully enjoying the experience. 

At one point, you feel Eddie’s skin on yours. You look down to see his hand around yours, fingers entwining. 

They fit so perfectly together. 

The simple action with the high tempo of the music quickens your heart rate. He’s not even looking at you, his eyes glued to the band performing on stage, his hands sliding between yours so naturally, as if it’s second nature to him despite never doing it before. You inhale deeply through your nose, attempting to catch your breath and calm your heart, hoping he doesn’t look at you and notice how frazzled his touch has made you. 

As soon as his hands parts from yours to clap at the end of the song, your heart craves his touch again. It’s a craving so fierce, so overwhelming you don’t know what to do with it.

A craving that’s quickly subsided when his hand moves to your bare shoulder, pulling you flush against him as he leans his lips to your ear.

“You’re my best girl, you know that? Thank you for this.” 

You don’t know if it’s the little bit of alcohol in his system, the immersive energy of the show making him delirious, but you don’t think he realizes the gravity of his words as his hot breath fans over your ear, sending goosebumps all over your body. You close your eyes as your chest flutters, collecting yourself before you smile up at him.

“Anything for you, Eds.”

His words and the lingering sensation from his touch on your skin stay present in the back of your mind for the rest of the show that passes by too fast.

Before you know it, KISS plays their last encore song of the night before the lights on the stage darken, and bright lights illuminate the floor. Sticky with sweat, Eddie takes your hand in his again as you fight the crowd out of the exits. Groaning at the relief of the cold January air on your hot skin as you break from the crowd and into the outside parking lot. 

You share your favorite moments on the drive home, reliving the excitement of the night as his WASP tape plays quietly in the background. The overwhelming energy of the night begins to take its toll on you as heaviness takes over your body, lazily watching the mile markers on the highway countdown your way back home.

The roar of the van quiets as Eddie parks in Wayne’s driveway. You turn to each other with a soft smile before you groan with a stretch, pulling a soft laugh from him. He walks you the short distance to your front porch steps. When you turn to face him again, he’s smiling down at you before his arms quickly wrap you up. Your head rests against his chest, the calming sound of his heartbeat against your ear. Everything about him is so addicting, intoxicating. It makes having to part from him and his embrace that much harder.

“Thank you, again.” he whispers.

Your eyes meet one another as you part, his fingertips lingering on your arms as you smile at each other. 

“You’re welcome, Eds. I’m glad you had a good time.” 

You stay like that for a moment, not speaking a word but so much conveyed in your eyes nonetheless.

This is my moment. 

He considers taking his chance as he looks at you. Doing what he’s wanted to do for so long, just kissing you here and now. Before he can muster up the courage, you sigh softly.

“Guess I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow for school?” you mutter, already dreading the sound of your alarm clock in the morning.

His gaze breaks away from yours for a brief moment as he nods, muttering a “See you tomorrow” before watching you walk up your steps and into the trailer. Mentally kicking himself for letting the moment pass and not taking his chance. Everything in his body pushing him to do it, only to chicken out again. 

His hands find their place in his jean pockets as he crosses the street, kicking spare rocks in his slow stride.

You hang your head as the water pours over you, seeping into your hair and soaking your body. Relishing in the relaxing sensation of the warm water beating against your tired body, washing away the hairspray and sweat from the night. In the quiet isolation of the shower, your mind replays the events of the night, lingering on the moments of newfound intimacy Eddie showed you. 

Eddie’s always been one to push boundaries in good fun, always quick to wrap you in a hug to show his affection or when you’re feeling down. 

Tonight was different. It seems like he was touching you more than he wasn’t, a hand lingering on your shoulder or waist, fingers entwining around yours… that one was new.

You convince yourself he was just caught up in the moment, being a protective best friend in a big, rowdy crowd. Grateful for the experience you’ve given him.

But the thought only makes you feel worse, putting a tightening grip on your heart.

His words.

You’re my best girl.

He has no idea the effects those few words would have on you. Stinging your eyes at what could be, what is, and what never will be. 

The mental fight you’re having with yourself adds a heaviness to your chest and a building pressure in your head. 

You lay your head against the shower wall as your mind rapid fire relives the moments with Eddie tonight, the last 4 months, the past years. You feel yourself begin to crack. Feelings and memories flooding your system. All the emotions you’ve bottled up the last few months building enough pressure to blow the lid off, everything you’ve held in spilling out of your eyes. Your tears mix in with the shower water as they stream down your cheeks.

As much as you want to fight it, you know that’s exactly what’s led to this moment. You give in, sitting with the pain, crying all the tears you can until the water runs cold. 

As you crawl into bed for the night, you hope it was enough to be able to move on tomorrow as if nothing happened. Closing your puffy eyes and letting exhaustion overtake you.

Friday, January 24th, 1986

Eddie’s birthday

You watch as the ice in your glass cup of Coke melts, hoping you don’t appear as bored as you feel. Wouldn’t want to put a damper on the boys’ fun, not on your boy’s special day.

Limited options in Hawkins have left you celebrating Eddie’s 20th birthday at the Hideout with Gareth, Grant, and Jeff. Fake ID’s and Eddie’s previous employment as a barback have kept the drinks coming.

It’s not the worst place, but the stuffy, stale air and faded, peeling walls leave much to be desired. You’re sure with a bit of alcohol, you wouldn’t even notice. Like Eddie and the boys, carrying the hype from tonight’s campaign to the bar with them. Lively chatter filling the space, you make a few comments here and there, but you’re not fully in it. 

You hate feeling this way on Eddie’s birthday, but the drunker the boys get, the more irritated you become. You promised to be the sober driver tonight. Your history with your Dad has always made you easily frustrated around drunk people when you’re sober, but you throw on a smile for him. Refusing to bring down his celebration.

He’s leaning against the jukebox, bobbing his head to the drums as Cum On Feel the Noize by Quiet Riot begins to play. When he turns, his eyes immediately land on you. Your stomach drops as he dances over to you with a smile, already anticipating the next words out of his mouth.

“Come on, sweetheart. Get off that stool and come dance with me!” You sigh and give him an unimpressed look to which he returns with a pout, effectively making a smile tug at your lips. You roll your eyes and walk towards him.

“You’re lucky it’s your birthday” you mumble joining him as his smile beams at you. You move your body side to side, bobbing your head with him to the beat. The other boys singing along loudly to the chorus from their bar stools grab your attention, making you laugh before you start singing along too. It doesn’t take much convincing from Eddie until they’re joining you on the empty floor. Jumping around each other and singing your hearts out, no doubt looking like a bunch of fools to the handful of middle aged regulars at the bar, but none of you care.

A few rounds later when it’s clear they’ve reached their limit, you’re corralling the drunken boys out of the bar. Eddie leaning onto you with his arm around your shoulder before you load them all into his van. When you climb into the driver's seat, he adorns a shit-eating grin as he attempts to buckle his seatbelt.

“Hehe, I get to be the passenger princess tonight.” 

As irritable as you feel, you can’t fight the grin from pulling at your lips before you bring the engine to life and pull out of the Hideout parking lot. 

You grab your pack of cigarettes, quickly lighting one and inhaling the smoke as the sound of blabbering from the 3 boys in the back fills the van.

Ahem.

You look to your side to find Eddie giving you puppy dog eyes with an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips.

“Would you be so kind?”

“Oh, where are my manners? Anything for you, princess.” You enthuse dramatically, bringing the lighter to the end of his cigarette.

The flame illuminates his dimples and the smirk forming them. Even drunk off his ass, he’s so damn cute. 

With his cigarette lit, you pull your attention elsewhere. Keeping an eye on the road while you thumb through his collection of tapes in the center console. You find the perfect one, quickly sliding the Queen tape into his radio, fast forwarding to the exact time Bohemian Rhapsody starts. Earning a chorus of “OHH”s at the easily recognizable piano notes in the intro. The five of you sing at the top of your lungs as you barrel down the nearly empty Hawkins streets. Laughing until your stomach hurts at the boys’ best attempts to hit the high notes. 

After dropping off Garth, Jeff, and Grant, you find yourself pulling into Eddie’s driveway.

“Well, I’ve got one last thing for you, birthday boy.”

Though already nearly nodding off, he gives you a lazy smile with raised brows. You get out of the van and hurry to the other side to keep Eddie from stumbling up the stairs to the trailer, hand keeping a tight hold on your plush waist. You bring him to lean against the kitchen counter before moving to the oven that hid the cake you’d made earlier while Eddie got ready for Hellfire.  You light the candles as quickly as you can before slowly turning to reveal it to him. His eyes widen, a one-sided smile on his lips as you bring the cake to rest on the counter in front of him, singing Happy Birthday. His eyes glance between the cake and you as you sing, warmth filling his gaze and his cheeks.

It takes him a few tries, but he blows out all the candles before he looks to you again.

“Happy birthday, Eddie” you give him a soft smile before he pulls you in for a tight hug. 

“Thank you, sweetheart. For everything” he mutters into your hair, arms wrapped tight around your waist. You expect it to be brief, but his hold doesn’t budge. 

“No need to thank me, Eds” 

He’s drunk, so you let him hold you longer without thinking much of it.

“I love you so much” he whispers, voice deep and sincere. The alcohol causes his body to sway side to side, his grip on you pulling your body with him.

His words shoot right through your heart, and you’re thankful for his hold on you, keeping your face out of view as you squeeze your eyes shut.

Not the way I love you.

You take a deep breath, settling your nerves and voice before you return his words.

“I love you too”

You let him hold you for a few seconds longer before it becomes too much to bear.

“Come on, have some of your cake” you pat his back, pulling his attention back to the cake sitting on the counter. His grip on you loosens as he turns back to it with a drunken smile.

You grab a knife, fork and a paper plate, cutting him a slice. He wastes no time digging in, leaving remnants of chocolate icing covering his lips.

“Mmm, you’re such a good baker” he groans, closing his eyes and reveling in the taste. Normally, you’d smile at the compliment, but you can’t bring yourself to as you watch him.

“Hey… you’re not gonna have some?” He asks when his eyes open and he comes back to his senses through the alcohol.

“No, trying to cut back on sweets. It’s your cake, anyway.” 

“Bulllllshiiit. You’re perfect the way you are” he insists, slurring his words with unchewed cake in his mouth. The counter he leans on being the only thing keeping him upright.

“Thanks, Eds… but really, I’m fine.” You give him a muted smile. It’s enough in his drunken state for him to shrug in response, quickly diving back in to finish the last few bites. 

“Alright, I think it’s time we get you to bed. Come on.”

He doesn’t argue with you, only wrapping his arm around your shoulder again as you lead him down the hallway to his bedroom.

You flick on his light as he stumbles in, fighting to pull off his vest and leather jacket. You begin to move to help get him into bed but he doesn’t stop there. Pulling his Hellfire shirt over his head and throwing it across the room carelessly. Revealing his bare chest, a tattoo you’ve never seen decorating his left pec.

When his hands fumble with his belt, you quickly look away, trying to distract yourself with the posters on his wall as you feel warmth creep up your chest and into your cheeks.

When you hear him groan and his feet shuffling against the carpet, you take a chance in looking back at him. With barely open eyelids and sporting only his blue checkered boxers, he falls onto his bed with a huff. You pull his covers over him, huffing a sigh as you look over his probably already sleeping figure.

“Goodnight, Eddie.”

When you’re met with silence, you flick his lights off and spare one last glance at him before leaving and shutting his bedroom door behind you. 

You quickly cover his cake and grab your purse before making your way across the street to your trailer.

Heaviness hanging in your chest. It’s a far from unfamiliar sensation at this point. It’s the same heaviness that hasn’t left since the concert a week ago, now only intensified tonight with his drunken words and embrace.

Freshly changed into your pajamas, you spare a glance out your bedroom window to the trailer across the street. Only one thought lingering in your mind.

I don’t know how much more of this I can take.

[i-am-beckyu]

Patience is a Virtue and Trust is Earned

A continuation of my Christmas fic One Small Gift

AYOOOOO! 3RD YEAR IN A ROW I'VE WRITTEN A CHRISTMAS FIC! LETS GO! I've been writing this fic on and off for almost a year ever since posting the first fic and got a few people wanting a sequel so congratulations!! You got your wish!!!

I recommend reading the first fic if you haven't already as this fic references plot that may not make sense without context so please consider reading it first before reading on. I'm gonna ramble on at the end of this fic but without further ado, MERRY CHRISTMAS AND ENJOY!!!

cw: fear, lying, panic and anxiety, hidden identity, magic and a TONNE of fluff and whimsey!

word count: 9180

Disclaimer! This story is based on the characters of the Dream SMP and not the real life content creators. Anything that occurs in this story is purely fiction and should be treated as such. Thank you.

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Borrowers.

Tiny scavengers that take human things for survival.

Well, that’s what all the articles say.

Wilbur leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms over his head. His back popped from the unhealthy way he’d been hunched over his computer for the last few hours, but he hardly noticed as he scrolled the internet.

“Yet another useless article that tells me nothing about how to actually coax one out.” He sighed dejectedly.

Now you are absolutely right, he should be studying right now while at University and not googling Borrowers again for the millionth time, but it’s not like he wanted to risk doing it at home. No way was he going to jeopardise having Tommy leave.

It had been a few weeks since Wilbur had met the young boy that fateful Christmas Eve and he was positive they hadn’t left. Not when he was now able to recognise the tell tale signs of a scavenger living in his walls. But the man was getting a tad testy about not being able to speak to them in person. 

Over and over Wilbur had to tell himself that Tommy trusted Santa Claus, not him. If they ever got a tiny hint that he knew of their existence, then that would be it and the boy would be gone. If a Borrower was seen, the rule they set for themselves was they had to leave no matter the circumstances. Staying after being seen was an absolute no no and never worth the risk. The articles had been very extensive on that point.

His other option to try and unknowingly lure the boy out wasn’t going very well either. Every idea seemed either too obvious, or too dangerous to attempt. (No he definitely did not consider using a mouse trap…)

Tommy was smart enough to avoid those anyway.

But he couldn’t ignore the growing urge to speak to them despite how foolish it would be to do so. It’s not like he could just walk straight up to Tommy’s wall and be like: “Hi I’m Wilbur but you already know that and I know you’re living in my walls. Sorry for ruining your house and kidnapping you haha.”

…

Yeah that would definitely send Tommy packing.

So like anyone does when they’ve run out of ideas, Wilbur rushed to the internet and started doing his research.

Borrowers- who are they, and how to befriend one.

Surprisingly, it seemed there were definitely people who knew about them. The few articles proof enough; but no one seemed to know anything further or wanted to speak up about how they knew what they did. The few authors or bloggers he’d emailed ended up ghosting him when asked to elaborate or rudely shut him down (looking at you PandasCanPVP) and though it did make sense they didn’t answer his questions; protect the borrowers and their code etc, it was still damn frustrating that no one was open to helping him. 

He’d at least done a few things to aid Tommy a bit more. He left more food out for longer than required and on the lower shelves so the blonde didn’t have to go to such lengths for a meal, and he’d creatively turned an unused draw into a junk draw and filled it with a bunch of mismatched items with multiples of each so that Tommy didn’t have to worry about him getting suspicious. (He definitely did not smile when he counted 6 paper clips instead of 7)

But there wasn’t really anything more he could do in terms of coaxing Tommy out. Wilbur just had to hope that either his message as Santa got through to him, or that he’d catch sight of Tommy one day and have an opportunity to acknowledge his existence. He hoped for the first of the two, but he’d take either to just make progress with the boy at all.

At least he had peace of mind they were doing better now then they had been before Christmas Eve. Niki was an absolute legend for helping him make all those tiny gifts. So yes he owed Nicki a massive favour when he absolutely bamboozled her for showing up outside her front door in the middle of the night and begged her for help to make tiny clothes for Tommy without explaining what for and why he needed them done that night. And yes he’d had to suck it up Christmas Day when he was tired as hell from working through the night to do it, but not for a second did Wilbur regret it when he knew how happy those gifts would have made the Borrower child.

It took everything in him not to tell his family about the encounter too, not wanting to risk the blonde hearing him, but it was for the best. One day it was going to pay off and then he could properly apologise for what he had done and get Tommy home.

Even if it meant he’d never really get to know the little guy, he would do it!

And that was a promise.

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This Wilbur guy was weird.

Did he have any reasons to back that statement up? 

NOPE! 

Wilbur was just decidedly a wrong-un and that was a good enough reason for him to accept.

Tommy had been finding his time in Wilbur’s walls a lot more pleasant now that he had some proper supplies. Santa really did spoil him rotten with all the extra gifts and was making getting by so much more achievable than what he had been previously. Even before his kidnapping, living in the forest certainly did not come with quite the same number of luxuries that living in a Human Beans house did.

For one: Constant food source. 

Wilbur was one sloppy guy. 

Bean did not seem very keen on putting things away properly before he left the house for hours at a time for this ‘You-knee-verse-it-tea’ thingy he went to for school. Anyone normal would probably think he was a slob, but for Tommy it was the golden ticket to trying foods he’d never even dreamed of! Did you know bread could actually taste good when it wasn’t mouldy? 

Wilbur’s house was just a treasure trove of things to borrow from and Tommy had pretty much anything and everything he could ever want here. He still had plans to get back to his nook home, but perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to stay for awhile longer while he figured out where home actually was.

There wasn’t really a rush to leave with all the snow still about anyways. He couldn’t be the bestest Borrower ever if he was frozen solid before he got home, but he couldn’t help but think about what Santa had said. 

‘He’s not as scary as you think’

After the whole meeting with the REAL Santa, Tommy hadn’t felt the same. After being so used to the isolation of the forest, physically talking to someone that wasn’t an animal or a tree had left the Borrower a tad empty. He’d spoken to someone, and they had spoken and listened back. The candy cane card sat in front of his bed and every day Tommy would wake up and reread the message and reminisce about that fateful night. 

It seemed bonkers to the boy, the idea of actually speaking to another Human Bean, but Santa’s kindness and words seemed to ring loud in his head. He’d been longing to talk to someone again for so long, and after observing Wilbur all this time; the Bean hadn’t done anything to suggest that they were a bad person. Believing that Santa was telling the truth wasn’t hard, but the thought of willingly revealing himself? Well it was easier said than done.

Because what if Santa was wrong? 

What if Wilbur was kind to other Beans but looked at him and decided he was more of a ‘Tommy shaped pet’ instead of an actual person? Just what would he do when he held all power over him? He would be powerless to stop them and could quite easily end off worse than where he started.

Tommy tried to shake the thoughts away before he thought too hard about it. 

Wilbur would never catch him.

That wasn’t going to happen if he could help it.

Speak of the devil and they shall appear, as the sound of faint keys being slid into a lock as it clicked, signalled the return of said Bean. The man gently opened and shut the door as they sighed before walking into the kitchen, as Tommy listened intently to their routine.

Put their bag down on the table. Open and close the fridge Shuffle through the cupboards for something to eat. Take out a box of half eaten crackers. Eat one and toss the rest on the bench for later.

Move into the bedroom to relax and close the door with a soft-

‘Click’

Tommy grinned mischievously to himself.

Now was his time to shine.

It might be foolish to any other Borrower to take food while a Bean was actively awake and home, but Tommy had seen Wilbur do this enough times to know now that that man was not going anywhere for at least another 20 to 40 minutes while they de-stressed their day away watching Tikky Toks on their phone, and there was no way he was wasting the opportunity to get food while it was easy access on the bench right now.

Silently, Tommy grabbed his hook and borrowing bag as he made his way through the maze of walls to the kitchen outlet. Just a quick trip and Dinner would be acquired. 

Easy.

With little effort, Tommy slipped the electrical cover off the outlet to the kitchen, double checking the coast was clear before making a move straight for the crackers. 

“Ugh, Seaweed again?” Tommy scrunched his nose up at the obnoxious packaging. 

He really shouldn’t be complaining about the easy borrow, but the blonde knew there were BBQ flavoured ones up on the high shelf he couldn’t reach. Stupid Wilbur gatekeeping his favourite snacks. Okay, unknowingly sure, but come on; Seaweed? The same stuff fish eat? Yuck.

Secretly the boy actually didn’t mind them too much but it does get a bit much eating the same thing 5 nights in a row. Better plan a supply trip to the high shelves next time Wilbur’s out to get stocked up with a bit more variety Tommy decided, as he opened his bag and stored a broken up cracker. 

As he gathered up his borrowings, the unusual pangs of an instrument in pain sounded down the hall. Tommy gasped as he sped up his movements before grabbing his hook and hastily making his way down to the ground. Another few pangs of an off note sounded through the walls as Wilbur messed with his guitar strings.

Looked like it was dinner and a show tonight!

Lady Life’s music of the Forest was good and all, but Tommy never knew music like Wilbur’s even existed till he got to experience it one night. It was just like tonight, Wilbur in the other room with Tommy borrowing before the man started doing what was called ‘tuning the guitar’ to get the instrument in the right key. 

Tommy thought he’d been destroying the poor instrument until they started playing a song he didn’t know. The brunette had talent and listening to them play felt like a private concert just for him. It wasn’t long before Tommy had crossed the kitchen and was back in the walls to Wilbur’s bedroom, nestled atop the Bean’s shelf out of sight in a discarded Beanie.

The soft strum of the guitar filled the room and Tommy found himself relaxing to the constant rhythm. It was easy to just let himself drift and sway with the melody. The way it put him at ease was almost hypnotic, but the boy found he didn’t care if it meant he could indulge in it forever. 

Wilbur had been working on this song for awhile and it had quickly become one of his favourites. There were many times he had wanted nothing more than to cheer and clap whenever the Human Bean had finished playing, but the lingering fear of being caught was ever present in the boy's mind. This however didn’t seem to defer his ever growing loneliness. 

‘Would it be so bad if he were to talk to Wilbur?’

‘What if he was one of the so-called good Beans?’

‘What if he had a chance to make a friend?’

Tommy peaked over the edge of the shelf down to where Wilbur was busy absorbed in his playing. How would he even approach them? It’s not like he could just walk out into the open and be like: ‘Hi I’m Tommy and I’ve been living in your walls ever since you kidnapped me and using all your stuff. Want to be friends?’

…

Yeah that’s definitely going to result in him winding up in a jar or something.

If only Santa Claus was still here. It was his suggestion to befriend them in the first place so he’d probably know exactly what to say and do. 

Wait, THAT WAS IT!!!

Why didn’t he think of this sooner? Why not just ask Santa what to do! It made perfect sense! He’s a Bean and talks to them all the time so obviously he would know exactly how he could approach them! 

Tommy crept back into the walls and quickly ran off in the direction of the house's study. 

He had a letter to write.

༘⋆ ❅ ･:*:｡ ❆ ₊˚ ｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊ ⋆ ⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

“Okay, Dear Santa…” Tommy said out loud as he began to write in his best handwriting. 

As soon as he’d found an unused marker in the study, Tommy had been quick to fashion it into one his size from the red tip. His hands had been stained red, but red was the poggest colour ever so he didn’t mind. He had gone to start writing a letter with some borrowed paper back in his home that night, but quickly realised Santa probably wouldn’t be able to read his letter if the letter was written in his regular handwriting- AKA too small to read with Santa’s bad eyesight from being old. This would require a bigger piece of paper and writing with his Big Man writing skills!

That also meant needing a bigger piece of paper and room to write it which meant waiting for Wilbur to leave and that took far too long with it being a Sunday. Tommy had had to wait HOURS for Wilbur to leave to do the grocery shopping, but at least it meant he’d be out for awhile and the Bean had left the kitchen window open, so it was a good day to enjoy some fresh air, albeit if it was a bit cold still and windy.

So with his new marker in hand and a few sheets of Wilbur's scrap pieces of paper from the Kitchen, Tommy now had everything he could possibly need to write his letter.

“Dear Santa.”

…

“---Dear Santa?”

…  …   …

“Dear Santaaaaaaaa UGHHH WHY IS THIS SO HARD!?”

Well, everything but the right words…

“It shouldn’t be this difficult!” The boy complained, as he crossed out another attempt at writing. 

“Dear Santa, so you know how you said to talk to Wilbitch? How exactly do I do that?” 

Tommy groaned as he furiously scribbled over the dear santa line before flopping himself on top of the stack of papers. He had been trying to write this letter for 15 minutes and he was getting frustrated. He just didn’t know how to start the letter. 

Get straight to the point or ease into? 

Is there even a way to write a letter correctly? 

6 year old Beans do this for goodness sake!

He just wanted to ask for the best way to approach Wilbur without the worst occurring. He knew the Beans schedule so he could probably work out a good time to talk to them based on their mood but he also still had to get over the idea of willingly exposing himself and that he definitely needed Santa’s help with. Not to forget to mention he still had to thank Santa for all his gifts too! He honestly couldn’t thank him enough for what he had done and the Borrower wanted the old man to know that.

Perhaps just being honest would be the best way to write this? Get it all down in one go and out in the open so he and Santa were completely on the same page. It was at least worth a shot. Wilbur would be back soon and he needed to get something written before that. With a little more internal deliberation, Tommy took a deep breath, and began to write.

Line after line the Borrower wrote his letter- as well as stopping to rest his aching hand as the letter grew longer letting the words flow as best he could. It wasn’t perfect, but then again he added pictures and doodles to make it better so he’s pretty sure that evens it out.

The last thing he needed to do was address the letter to Santa and get it to the letterbox. With his best precision skills, Tommy folded the letter in half and wrote on the front in his best writing.

TO: SANTA

NORTH POLE

Once he was done, Tommy stepped back to admire his handy work.

It was a bit wonky and anything but fancy, but for the first letter he’s ever written, it wasn’t too bad for a giant letter written by a Borrower.

Now all that was left was to deliver it. The boy quickly put his marker away into his borrowing bag and cleaned up the stack of papers back into a neat pile like how he found it, discarding any of his first bad attempts in the bottom of the bin where Wilbur wouldn’t find it, before moving to the window with the letter in tow. 

Now the best way to get the letter to Santa would be to post it and Tommy had seen some Human Beans put letters in their letter box before on the big black box, and then they were taken to be delivered like magic, so that made the most logical sense to him. He’d have to go outside to send it, but if he went now and waited till the sun went down, he would be able to scale the letterbox under the cover of darkness and do it with less risk. 

Tommy set the letter down beside him as he prepared to descend from the window sill to the outside world. The wind had picked up a little bit, but the Borrower was confident in his abilities to scale down the wall without any issues. Just like climbing up and down the trees back in the forest. Hook in, and descend down. Piece of cake.

Once he was sure his hook was secure, Tommy gathered up the letter in one arm before raising his other to shield his eyes from the setting sun, basking in the serenity of the afternoon as a chilly breeze blew through his golden curls.

Tommy exhaled a content sigh. He missed watching the sunset through the trees of the forest, the soft music of trees swaying and birds chirping as they did their birdie things. Hopefully he’d be reunited with his old nook and could enjoy them like he once did again soon. His letter was sure to fix everything. 

Santa would fix everything.

Tommy gently closed his eyes to savour the feeling one last time, but the boy lingered for just a moment too long as a strong gust of wind was all it took to throw the Borrower off balance and snatch his letter from his grasp, sending it flying off with the wind.

“NO!” The blonde shouted, watching as his letter drifted left and right off into the distance. 

It was almost magical in a sense, as he watched how it danced through the air and Tommy had to wonder, what if that was intentional. Santa had managed to do things he didn’t think possible with his magic, so perhaps he knew when letters were addressed to him and sent a magic wind to collect it for him?

Yeah that made sense! Good old Santa Claus looking out for his favourite Borrower! Prime he should have thanked Santa more in his letter.

Satisfied with coming to this conclusion, Tommy packed up his gear before heading back to the walls for a well deserved rest; blissfully unaware of the true whereabouts of his letter as it drifted through the wind over buildings and roads, before finally flying straight into a certain brunettes face on his way back from the shops.

“What on Earth?!” Wilbur grabbed at the piece of paper from his face prepared to throw it away before abruptly coming to a stop to read the bright, red scrawl across the front.

“Okay, interesting spelling.” Wilbur examined the poorly addressed letter. 

It was obviously a lost Christmas letter written on what looked like sheet music from some kid judging by the spelling and array of doodles. Little faces in the O’s to make it look like Santa, but obnoxiously written in capital letters to make it stand out. It made him think of Tommy and how he went into all the finer details of his life that he couldn’t help but opt to read the childish letter and pique his growing curiosity. 

Dear Santa

Hi, it's Tommy! TommyInnit the Borrower you spoke to on Christinimass Eve. I’m sure I don’t need to explain which Tommy to you being the most amazing Tommy to exist ever but anyways I’m writing this letter to ask for your help.

Firstly, thank you for all the pogger gifts. They’re all so AWESOME so thank you! (Like seriously, you are the Greatest Man alive- After me of course >:3 )

Anyways, the reason I sent you this letter. You know Wilbitch Wilbur? The Human Bean that kidnapped me? Well I’ve decided to be the bigger man and befriend him despite him kidnapping me and destroying my home (You know it’s still in his living room slowly dying? Weirdo).

Thing is, I don’t really know how to do that. I know you said I can trust him, but I’m still scared of what he might do to me if he finds out I’ve been using and taking his stuff. I know his schedule by heart at this point and wait till he leaves to get anything done outside the walls, but ever since talking to you I’ve felt so lonely. I loved talking to you but I know I can’t do that with you all the time so I’m willing to give the Bean a chance. 

Do you have any ideas for how I can talk to him?

Thank you for your help and if you do this I won’t even ask for a Christmas present this year!!! Seriously I won’t!!!  I would just like a friend.

From the coolest Borrower ever,

-Tommy

P.S. You’re the best.

Wilbur couldn’t believe his eyes.

It- It was a letter to Santa, from Tommy.

His Tommy.

This was it! This was his in, his chance!!!

Wilbur carefully folded the letter back in half and slipped it into his trench coat pocket before hurrying home, formulating a plan of action the whole way. Finally he had a shot to befriend Tommy and there was no way he was going to waste it.

༘⋆ ❅ ･:*:｡ ❆ ₊˚ ｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊ ⋆ ⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

Waiting.

Waiting..

More waiting…

Great. Just great.

Wilbur couldn’t help but keep his eyes glued to the clock on the class room wall. His leg bounced in anticipation as the minutes ticked by to the end of the day. He should really be listening to his lecturer, but it was almost impossible to do so when all the uni student could think of was getting home as quickly as possible.

The only way to catch Tommy would be by surprise, and to do that would be to break his schedule. 

Wilbur couldn’t lie and say he didn’t love a well structured schedule. It was the only way he found he really ever got anything done and if sticking to his timed out plan was the way to do that, then so be it. Sometimes that meant postponing other things like hangouts and was a pain, but right now it was his ticket to meeting one Borrower. 

His Plan- Get home an hour earlier than normal by skipping study and hope to catch Tommy in the open.

Okay, so yes the whole plan was just one big gamble. It’s not like he got home at exactly the same time every day so he doubted Tommy was going to be out borrowing still even if he was home early, but it’s the best idea he’s got. The letter said Tommy knew his schedule so being early was rarity for him. It’s not going to hurt to give it a try. 

He’ll either see Tommy, or he won’t. 

Wilbur idly traced the words of Tommy's letter as he sat and waited for his lecturer to signal the end of class. So much energy and bright smiles were hidden beneath the red writing and he wanted to know it all. 

After what felt like an eternity, his lecture finally ended and the brunette wasted no time in gathering up his things and racing out the door. He didn’t really need to sprint home, especially given that the roads were still a bit icy, but there was no time to waste. 

It only took a matter of minutes for him to reach the end of his street, huffing and panting. He took his time walking down to his house allowing himself to catch his breath and recompose himself for the task at hand. 

This was a stealth operation. No loud noises allowed.

Wilbur treaded lightly up to his front door, taking out his keys holding the key chains tight to prevent any jingling sounds before slipping the key in the lock. He turned the key as slowly as he dared, opening the door in a similar manner, before poking his head inside the door frame, eyes immediately looking to spots he thought the small borrower child might be hiding. 

No signs of Tommy.

Wilbur crept into the hallway, closing the door behind him with a loud click. “Shoot.” he muttered before slapping a hand over his mouth sharply, before realising his mistake as he cringed at the slight stinging pain now blooming across his jaw. 

‘Don’t talk, you idiot!’ Wilbur internally chastised himself. 

Ignoring his first blunder, Wilbur quietly shuffled across the carpet to peek into the living room. Nothing appeared out of place, and Tommy’s spot on the book shelf remained as empty as ever. 

‘Not here,’  Wilbur thought as he turned and tiptoed across the hallway. ‘Try the kitchen. Just slow and steady, keep quiet, move slow and steady and- ‘CREAKKKKKKK’  An old floorboard groaned loudly as it took the man’s weight. 

‘So much for stealth.’

Holding onto a sliver of hope he hadn’t messed up, Wilbur peered into the kitchen. Just like the living room, everything remained untouched and just the same as ever. Wilbur sighed heavily, dropping his bag loudly in defeat. If Tommy had been here, there was no way he hadn’t heard that floorboard move.

Resigning himself to his failed efforts, Wilbur didn’t bother to stay quiet as he trudged into the kitchen defeated. He flung the kitchen cupboard open, grabbing the BBQ crackers from the top shelf cracking the package open. He then grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and his bag from the floor before moving off to his room. 

So his one and only plan didn’t work, now what was he going to do? Guess he’d have to try and think of another time to break his schedule that wouldn’t compromise his study life a different way. 

The brunette sighed as he grabbed his phone, chucking on one of his favourite playlists and booting up his Bluetooth speaker. Might as well do some study since he skipped his study block back at the campus. It was as he sat down his stomach suddenly grumbled. 

Oh, right- the crackers.

Wilbur rose from his chair and moved through the halls before abruptly coming to a stop and hiding behind the kitchen door. There was movement from the BBQ Crackers packet. The man’s breath got stuck in his throat as he watched a tiny blonde boy emerge from the packaging with a cracker looking extremely pleased with themself, as they set it down next to a little blue bag. 

Tommy.

Wilbur couldn’t help but stare as he watched the boy work. He should have known that Tommy would come out for food. It never occurred to him that he would try and get the discarded crackers when they were left out on the bench. It was dangerous for the Borrower considering he was home and could be seen, but it was easy access for the boy so of course the risk would be worth it.

With careful precision to avoid the creaky floorboards, Wilbur crept forward. Said blonde had crawled back into the Crackers packet and was distracted. He didn’t want to scare Tommy away, but the boy was far too close to the electrical socket and he’d determined it was a wall entry/exit a while ago. The last thing he wanted was for Tommy to bolt.

It wasn’t till he was about a step or two away that the Borrower popped back out of the bag with another cracker in tow.

It was now or never.

“Ahem,” Wilbur cleared his throat and tried not to feel guilty, as he watched the Borrower on the bench flinch, stumbling back in surprise. “Hi there.”

Wilbur remained completely still as he watched in anticipation for what the blonde would do next. Tommy’s face seemed to morph 100 different ways all at once before stopping at terrified as they processed the situation. The pure terror on the Borrowers face showed he knew there was no escaping this, as their eyes darted around trying to formulate the next best course of action despite their seemingly ‘dire’ situation, but Wilbur continued to remain calm. 

He needed Tommy to understand he wasn’t in danger. 

The silence stretched on for a few more moments, only broken by the sound of the cracker Tommy had been clutching to his chest, snapping into several pieces. The borrower was so frightened for being caught, he’d subconsciously been clutching the cracker tighter and tighter till it snapped. 

“Can I help with that?” Wilbur asked, pointing to the broken cracker in the boy's lap as he stepped closer. 

Tommy was fast to react. The blonde sprung to his feet, cracker and equipment forgotten as they bolted for the electrical socket.

“No wait, STOP!” Wilbur cried as lunged forward to stop the boy. Before he even realised what he’d done, he’d swept the Borrower up in his hand, the boy now kicking and screaming in his grasp. 

“LET ME GO!!!” he shrieked as they dug and scratched their nails into Wilbur's skin. 

Tommy felt the way the hand flexed as he did so, but his attempts weren’t enough to get the man to budge. This was only the second time he’d ever been picked up by a human, and it was nothing like the way Santa had treated him. It felt far too tight and confining and Tommy wanted nothing more than to be free of it. Tommy always knew that Human Beans could be fast, but he never realised just how fast they actually might be.

His futile attempt to make it back to the walls had been wishful thinking at best. Now the very real threat of his head being popped off for being caught stealing the Bean's food had his heart hammering out of his chest. He was going to continue his plans of bloody murder, but as his stomach lurched and he was lifted up and away from the counter, all attempts died off as he was brought closer to his impending doom's face. He couldn’t suppress the small whimper that slipped as his body shook as the Bean seemingly studied every inch of him, before their eyebrows furrowed. 

“Hey, hey it’s alright.” Wilbur reassured. “I’m not going to hurt you Tommy.”

Tommy’s blood ran cold. 

How did he know his name?

No, no he couldn’t have. He’d been careful. Never seen, not once. There was no way Wilbur could have known he was here let alone his name right? Right???

“How the heck do you know my name?” he spat. 

Did this mean they knew he was here? Had the Bean been trying to lure him out this entire time just so they could trap him and punish him for taking their stuff?

“Ahhh so about that..” Wilbur began before quickly adjusting his grip and reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a small, thin piece of paper with red scribbled all over it. “I got your letter. It didn’t quite make it to the North Pole I’m afraid.”

Tommy couldn’t believe his eyes.

It was his letter to Santa.

All his worst fears were confirmed in the Beans grasp. If Wilbur had his letter then that meant he DEFINITELY had read it and would know everything!! As if magic wind was a real thing! Prime, why did he think writing to Santa when it was no longer Christmas would be a good idea? 

“Hey, hey it’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you Tommy, I just want to talk honestly.” Wilbur tried to reassure as he placed the letter down. The boy only shook his head in response, trembling as they squeezed their eyes shut expecting the worst.

“Okay, I know you’re scared Tommy, but I’ve read your letter, and I just want to help you. You can trust me I-” 

“WHY SHOULD I TRUST YOU?!” The boy shrieked. “YOU SNATCHED ME OFF THE TABLE AND ARE HOLDING ME AGAINST MY WILL!”

“Well yes I know, and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to grab you, I just didn’t want you to run away!” 

“If you’re really sorry then you’ll let me go!” Tommy pleaded, tears starting to well up in his eyes. “Please just let me go.”

Wilbur sighed, realising his terrific plan to speak to Tommy wouldn’t get very far with their current circumstances. If the roles were reversed, he’d be rightly terrified out of his mind too. You’d think after all his research on Borrowers, this is something he’d be aware of. Looking around the kitchen, he knew he couldn’t just put them down on the bench and risk the boy making another run for it, and instead turned and headed for the dining room table, despite the boy's sniffling cries.

“Tommy, I’m going to put you down now.” Wilbur explained, trying to be gentle as he sat down on one of the wooden chairs.  “I promise I won’t hurt you and you can leave straight after, I just want to talk.”

The boy didn’t speak as he brought his hands down to the wooden surface and slowly released his grip. The blonde immediately wriggled out from his fingers and dropped to the table with a slight thud, but was just as quickly scooting away from his hands now he was free. Wilbur brought his hands away and slipped them under the table into his lap to be less intimidating, but could see Tommy was still highly on edge as they tried to gain distance. He was breathing heavily, eyes fixated on him with a terrified expression, seemingly knowing that he had no hope of getting away in the Beans presence. 

He felt bad for putting them in such a vulnerable position, but if he wanted any hope to get him home, then they needed to talk properly- face to face. 

“There,” Wilbur said, retracting his hands placatingly. “See, you’re fine.”

Tommy didn’t look particularly convinced, his eyes red from crying and snot running down his nose. Like seriously, who did this guy think he was? After the way he just behaved, why should he trust him?

“Define fine.” The boy snapped hugging himself as he turned away so he didn’t have to face the brunette's constant staring.

Wilbur sighed. Why did he have to be so stubborn? He’s the one that wanted to make friends in the first place.

Wilbur glanced at the letter he’d placed on the edge of the table. Tommy was the one that wanted to talk to him but was just unsure of how to approach him. But instead here he’d come waltzing in and frantically grabbed him without any consideration for how this would make him look. The boy believed Santa when he told him he was a good guy, but any truth in that was gone and rightfully so. In Tommy’s eyes, Wilbur didn’t deserve to be trusted. 

How could you trust someone that held your life in their hands?

Wilbur sighed as he knew how to fix this, as much as he didn’t want to admit it, but if he wanted Tommy to trust him then his actions had to match his words.

“Okay so I know I didn’t make the best first impression so how about we start over?” Wilbur tried even slinking down to be a bit lower so he wasn’t looming over him so much. “My names Wilbur and if you need anything you can just ask okay?” 

Tommy didn’t reply, even going as far to give him the finger which had the man having to suppress a laugh despite it being fair. He waited for the blonde to speak up a little longer but it didn’t seem the Borrower would be talking any time soon.

Sighing realising this wasn’t going to work, Wilbur stood from the table and walked back to the kitchen. Tommy remained still only glancing a little bit to the side when he heard crackling of plastic, before the heavy foot falls of Wilbur's return signaled he was back before something was put down behind him, and a chair was dragged out and around from the table facing backwards.

“So I don’t blame you for not trusting me. I should have realised how my actions would have affected you so I won’t keep you any longer.” Wilbur stepped back from the table and around to the other side where Tommy could see him and towards the hallway back to his room.

“I’ve uh- left the chair next to the table so you can get down with your hook and things, and I promise I won’t go looking for you, but if you ever need anything- please don’t hesitate to ask.” Wilbur took a deep breath and exhaled as he rubbed the back of his head. “I hope in time, maybe we could be friends.”

After waiting for a reply and receiving none, Wilbur turned and walked into his room, closing the door with a soft click before walking over and flopping onto his bed. He couldn’t force Tommy to trust him. He just had to hope giving them space might change the kids' mind.

The second the Bean was gone, Tommy didn’t hesitate to grab his things and descend down the chair with his hook. He then booked it for the nearest wall entrance he could find and didn’t stop running until he was back in his little room in the walls. 

His heart pounded realising how close that had all been and now there was no time to waste.

Hastily he began to load his clothes into his bag and supplies for the journey he had ahead. He couldn’t stay now Wilbur actively knew of his existence. He’d been at the complete mercy of the Bean and that was never going to happen ever again. He kept doing this until he had completely stuffed his pack. As he prepared to leave he made his way to the door and had one final look around at his home for anything he missed. 

He couldn't pick up on anything specific, not until his eyes landed on the card from Santa. All those happy days he had gotten from just waking up to a pretty card. His encounter with Santa the best day of his life and the reason he was so comfortable here now at all. The memory felt bitter sweet now though, as he trudged over to the card, picking it up harshly flipping it over for one last read.

Dear Tommy,

It was lovely meeting you and getting

to know your story. I figured you might 

like some extra gifts as well to help you

be more comfortable in Wilbur’s walls.

I think you should try talking to him. 

You might be surprised. 

Sincerely,

Santa Claus

P.S- He’s not as scary as you think.

“Not as scary as you think my ass.” Tommy spat bitterly as he set it back in place. 

So what if he’d apologised a bunch of times? That didn’t change the fact he almost hadn’t been freed at all. Sure he’d escaped now, but Wilbur might have just made it look like he was free to go as an act to trick him into feeling guilty enough to stay to catch him later. 

But then again, he did apologise a lot and gave him a quick way back down the table. If he really thought about it, he hadn’t looked like he was going to hurt him or anything, just guilty he’d grabbed him in the first place. In fact he hadn’t really done anything besides scare the living daylights out of him by snatching him up.

It was perfectly logical for him to be scared of being grabbed, but apart from that, had the Bean actually done anything wrong? He was just reacting to the situation, and if he had read his letter, then maybe it wasn’t as bad as he thought. 

But no that can’t be right? He can’t seriously be considering Wilbur not a threat after all that?

“Ughhhh my head hurts!” He groaned frustratedly before dropping his pack to the floor and flopping head first into his bed. Why do Human Beans never make sense? Tommy curled himself into the fabric squeezing the sock blanket tightly in his grasp. This was all far too much for him to think about right now. 

The events of the day finally seemed to catch up to him as he laid there, adrenaline wearing off, replaced with a heavy fatigue. Perhaps sleeping would be better than trying to leave right this second? Who knew when he’d have another chance once he started the move. 

Rather than fight it, Tommy soon fell asleep, snuggled in his bed, his thoughts dreaming of what ifs and Wilbur.

༘⋆ ❅ ･:*:｡ ❆ ₊˚ ｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊ ⋆ ⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

The next day, Tommy had yet to leave.

He’d spent most of the morning mulling over his options and what the best course of action was and was having a hard time making up his mind.

On the one hand, leaving meant he was 100% safe from Wilbur and whatever his plans might be, whether they be good intentions or not. But on the other hand, that meant giving up the space he’d spent so long getting right and traversing the winter terrain without a guarantee of finding a place that was safe to stay in. While the Bean knew of his presence, at least he had a warm bed and didn’t have to worry about frostbite. But of course that still left one problem: 

Wilbur.

The more he replayed yesterday's events over in his mind the more he wanted to believe that maybe, just maybe Wilbur was one of the good Beans. It’s not like he’d ever met or interacted with one before he came here. Everything he knew of them came from stories and warnings from his parents about Borrowers getting trapped in Jars and what not, but there was always some truth in stories one way or another. 

Still though, he had one thing going for him that no other Bean did. Santa trusted him. And while Tommy may not trust him, (not completely anyways) perhaps there was a way he could test them.

Tommy had his borrowing bag strapped to his back and his hook and rope at his side as he sat perched atop the bookshelf in the living room, watching and waiting for Wilbur to enter. He’d test the Bean. See if he stayed true to his word and be in plain sight of the man and see if he was worthy of his presence. If he tried to catch him or hurt him in any way, all he had to do was get back through the crack in the wall and grab the rest of his things and book it out of there.

The blonde's knee bounced in anticipation. It was one thing trying not to be seen by a being 100x your size, but another to willingly just be waiting in the open for your maybe/maybe not demise to show up. Strange how the last time he stood out here, he did so waiting for Santa happily, but now it felt like he half wanted to throw up as he waited for the brunette to show.

His thoughts must have summoned him, because entered an exhausted Wilbur with a cup of coffee in hand before they plonked themself down on the couch. He took a long sip and sighed before putting the cup down and threw their head back against the couch. 

He looked sad. Big dark bags under his eyes and he was frowning as he stared up at the ceiling. Tommy couldn’t help but think that was probably his fault. Seems yesterday's events had affected Wilbur just as much as it had him and he did feel a bit guilty for that. Did he really care that much he’d lose sleep over him? 

Only one way to find out.

“Ahem.” Tommy cleared his throat and the Bean jolted up almost immediately, head looking around wildly for the source. 

“Hey, up here big man.” The boy called with a wave to down below and clenched his hook tightly with the other hand as the brunette's sweeping gaze snapped up onto him.  “Sorry if I- uh startled you.”

“No, no it’s fine, I just- I thought you left.” Wilbur said as he turned himself to be better facing the Borrower without leaving the couch. 

“Why would I do that?” Tommy asked even though he knew the answer. 

“Well, I don’t know I just thought- I’d scared you away.” Wilbur looked away, staring at his coffee as if it was far more interesting than the boy on his shelf. “I figured you’d have left because of how I- how I um..”

“Grabbed me?” Tommy asked, raising a brow as he did so.

“Yeah… I truly am sorry about that. I never should have reacted like that. I don’t know what I was thinking. I promise I never planned to do anything to you when I did, I just- my hand moved without thinking and yeah. I’m sorry Tommy.” 

“It wasn’t particularly nice of you.” Tommy tried to ignore the tingly sensation of phantom hands wrapping around him as he stood up. “I just felt so helpless when you did.” 

Wilbur nodded sadly in agreement. “Yeah I can’t imagine what it must feel like for you. Based on what I read in your letter, it must be really hard living at your size when everything is so big.”

“Well I was born this way. I learned to live cautiously to protect myself. You Beans are just too busy thinking of yourselves than about who else might be living out of sight.” Tommy glanced down to Wilbur and noticed how the Bean twiddled their thumbs in their lap, gaze now resting on the table and a familiar piece of paper. His Letter.

“Hey I’ve got to ask,” Tommy started as Wilbur brought his head back up to the shelf. “How did you get your hands on my letter? Last I saw it, it was flying out in the wind randomly to who knows where.”

Wilbur chuckled as he leaned over and picked up the letter carefully to admire the craftsmanship of it once more. “Well, I was walking home from grocery shopping the other day and it kind of just flew into my face. It was by chance that I decided to open it and read it that I noticed the paper was one of my discarded music sheets I use for scrap paper. Kind of connected the dots from there since it was my work and here we are.”

Tommy nodded as he listened. He supposed that made more sense than magic wind, even if the chances of it flying into Wilbur's face were bizarrely low. 

“Still a shame it didn’t make it to Santa. I wanted to thank him properly for what he did for me.”

“You could always write him another letter if you want.” Wilbur suggested. “I don’t mind helping you if you like.” 

Tommy nodded considering the idea before speaking up. “I think you might have to write to Santa for yourself though. You’ll probably be on his naughty list for a while when I tell him about everything that’s happened.” 

Wilbur smiled as he nodded in agreement. “Yeah I deserve that. I’ll have to really work hard to get back on the nice list then won’t I?”

“You sure will. Gonna take a lot to get back in his good books though.” 

Wilbur smiled as he set the letter back down and leaned back into the couch. “Do you have any ideas on how I could do that?”

Tommy scratched his head for a moment in thought.

“Well for starters you’d have to be extra nice and always use proper manners like asking before you do something.” 

Wilbur nodded as the boy continued. “And you’d have to always announce your presence coming in and out of rooms cause if you don’t that’s just rude.”

Wilbur couldn’t help but chuckle as Tommy kept listing nice specific things off. “Anything else?”

“Annnnd always leave extra food out on the counters- specifically the BBQ crackers and chocolate because that’s how you show you're being extra nice.”

“Right, well it sounds like I’ve got my work cut out for me then.” Wilbur replied as he looked back up to where Tommy stood upon the shelf. The boy seemed rather pleased with himself before he realised he was in sight and timidly stepped back from view. 

“I’ve got to ask though, why are you still here? I assumed the last place you’d want to be is anywhere near me and well, yeah.” It was a question that was starting to eat at him as why the Borrower would go against the code and all the other things he had read about not making sense.

“Well initially, I was going to leave straight away, yes. But with all the snow on the ground and not knowing the area, it made the decision of leaving more complicated so I’m giving talking one last shot and then deciding.” 

Wilbur smiled as he felt warm that the blonde was at least giving him a chance, even if they had their hesitations. He didn’t blame Tommy for being wary after everything that had transpired but maybe there was still hope to salvage things.

“Hey Tommy, do you think maybe we could start over?” the brunette asked. “I think we got off on the wrong foot and I’d really like to show I mean you know harm.” 

Tommy stood back from the shelf edge where he couldn’t see the Bean. This was exactly what he wanted. A chance for the Bean to prove himself and he hadn’t even had to ask. 

Wilbur watched the bookshelf nervously waiting for a response. What if he’d over stepped? He didn’t have to wait long for an answer as the blonde came back into view with his arms behind his back, before breaking into a smile.

“Yeah, that would be nice. But don’t even think about putting me in a jar cause I know Santa and Santa will absolutely beat your ass if you do.” 

“And why would he do that?” Wilbur smirked teasingly.

“Because,” Tommy stated. “I’m his favourite.”

Wilbur’s heart melted as the boy blew a raspberry at him before pulling a bunch of different faces. In a way, he guessed it was true. 

Tommy was his favourite.

And he wasn’t going to mess this opportunity up a second time.

༘⋆ ❅ ･:*:｡ ❆ ₊˚ ｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊ ⋆ ⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

In the days to come, Wilbur and Tommy began to slowly get to know each other. 

Albeit at a distance with Tommy still hiding on shelves and behind items that he was sort of a discombobulated voice, but it was a start and made the Borrower feel safer.

Wilbur didn’t mind in the slightest as they were actually talking and making progress! If Wilbur thought Tommy had talked a lot on their Santa encounter, well the kid had certainly been holding back as they chatted away about anything and everything they could speak on.

In fact, soon the two were bantering back and forth like they’d been life long friends and it didn’t take long for Tommy to start showing himself on the shelves. 

Wilbur was always super cautious around the boy and made sure to give him space, and even gave him extra warning about what he was doing to ease the boy more around his presence. While Tommy initially had his reservations, he was quickly beginning to see what Santa had meant in his card. 

Wilbur truly was doing everything he possibly could to show he wanted to help him and be friends and that gave Tommy the confidence to take the next step and actually be in close proximity with the man rather than the safety of shelves. 

Eventually, Tommy would tell Wilbur of how he came to be in his apartment and Wilbur would offer to take Tommy back to his home. It didn’t take long for the boy to realise how close he’d actually grown to the Bean and when the time came to actually go, the Borrower would decide that maybe the Forest wasn’t necessarily his home any more. 

From there, the two continued to grow closer and eventually table talks turned to movie nights on the couch, to hand cuddles on chilly days. And whenever things got too much, Wilbur gave Tommy the space he needed and one day Tommy realised that Santa was right.

Wilbur wasn’t as scary as he once believed. 

In fact, he finally had a friend he could depend on.

Just like he had always wanted.

༘⋆ ❅ ･:*:｡ ❆ ₊˚ ｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊ ⋆ ⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

Epilogue

Annnnnnnnnnnnd that's a wrap!!!

Thank you so much if you read the whole thing through. It was a lot of fun to write as it's not the kind of topic I see written about very often and especially not in a gt sense so I loved exploring what Santa is to a Borrower that lived outside most of their life never knowing about these things.

HUGE Thank you to @quotemenevervore for beta reading and helping me get unstuck to write the ending!!! Always very thankful for your input and so glad I got this done before Christmas like I planned <3

Thanks again to everyone who's stuck around and continues to enjoy my writing despite all the circumstances of previous creators constantly changing. As times gone on, while I still really enjoy writing these characters, new ideas to use them in the future have certainly been becoming less, so I still fully intend to finish JORNOS but after that's done, I have one more chapter fic I want to post and then I think I might explore some new characters. Dunno yet tbh. Work is being a pain and will probably continue to delay new stuff, but I'm certainly not done yet :3

Anyways that's my last fic for this year so Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year and I'll see you all on the next fic <3

tag list: @local-squishmallow @brick-a-doodle-do @justarandomsloth @veryfunkycheesecake @munchkin1156 @kayla-crazy-stuffs @da3dm @eiscreme135 @orchid-harmony @the-tiny-lurker @colossal-red @nobodywritingao3 @nata2343 @bad-author777 @box-beanz @gracideaviolet @a-xyz-s

[midnight-mourning]

DCA Promptober Day 4: Bells

Content warning: a little spooky/paranoia based, small mentions of injury

Realized I could make the jack o'lantern emoji my dividers so now I have to standardize it across all the promptobers >_< anywho, enjoy!

Word count: 912

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

Quiet. It's near silent in the closet. Save for the sound of your own breathing which you're desperately trying to muffle with your hand. 

You need to stay calm, you need to focus. Panic will do you nothing in this situation.

Your arm stings from the slash you'd recieved earlier from Monty. Had you known the animatronics were going to go batshit, you probably wouldn't have come in tonight. Or ever again, really. 

There's no way to secure the door, not without making excessive noise and you can't afford that. You just have to hope, to pray to whatever god is listening that your silence and the closed door is enough to save you. With your walkie smashed and seemingly only staff bots around for security, you have no means of getting out of here soon.

You don't even know what time it is, not that it matters at this point. You're nowhere close to morning, and even then you don't know if that'd make any difference. 

Well, it would for one animatronic. 

You can't even remember how it happened. You'd come in to spend the evening with Sun to plan out arts and crafts for the next day. He'd been acting weird these past few weeks, very insistent on no naptime, and because of how upset the topic made him, you relented despite the tired kids you were dealing with.

So, you thought it would be a good idea to try and spend some one on one time together, maybe see if you couldn't get it out of him what was bothering him so bad. When you arrived, he was incredibly, off. Happy to see you yes, but wanted you out of there immediately. You had foolishly refused, wanting to get to the bottom of things like the curious cat that you are.

You'd taken his skittish, almost aggravated, tone for him not wanting to talk about the problem. You now realize it had been fear, instead. 

"Sunny, this is ridiculous!" You say, arms crossed at the sign on the big doors in front of you. Which had been put up after he pushed you out of the Daycare moments before. 

You can hear him loud and clear over the wall, "Sorry, Sunbeam! Rules are rules!"

"You made the rules! You're actively making them right now!"

No response. Just the quiet sound of bells as-you're assuming-he fidgets on the other side. You sigh.

You put your head to the wood, voice a little softer, "I just wish you would tell me what's going on."

"There's nothing going on, friend! Everything's fine, fine, fine! Really you should just go home, and not worry about aaanything at all!" His laugh is awkward, "Really. I mean it."

Deflecting. He's always deflecting. It, hurts. To say the least.

"You know you can trust me, yeah?" You ask.

More jingling. But that's not really an answer.

"I'm serious, Sun. I just want to help."

You're about to give up and call it a night when you feel the door opening, you step back in time for it to open just a tad. 

Sun's rays peek through slightly, along with one of his optics "You want to help? Help me?"

"Of course I do," You smile, "I'd do anything for you, bud."

The door opens a little further, he's still hesistant, however, "I-I, Sunshine I don't know if this is, is something you can help with-"

"I can try," You interject, putting your hand over his which still remains on the door, "I can promise you that much."

Sun's rays spin and then he nods, "Okay, I, I suppose you can come in for a few minutes-"

It's then that the power suddenly cuts inside and out of the daycare, the emergency lights very rapidly becoming your only way to see.

"What's going on-Sun?"

He jumps back from you, looking around wildly before gripping his faceplate, "No, no, no! Not good, not good!" 

You reach a hand out, wanting to comfort the poor bot, "Sun-"

He stops his moments long enough to look you in the eyes, and while his face is stuck in that giant grin, you can sense the sterness, the fear, in the singular word he utters. 

"Run."

A few reckless and terror-driven decisions later, you wound up hear. You're best guess is that your stuck here for awhile, but semi-safe for time being-

A soft sound down the hall sends your heart to your throat. In any other context, you'd associate it with joy, laughter, days of fun, and even hummed bedtime melodies. 

Bells. 

With each twinkling noise they get ever closer to your position, and you shrink more and more into yourself. 

Clink. Clink.

For some reason, some of your happiest memories start playing before your eyes. 

Clink. 

Clink.

You think of Sun, with his goofy demeanor and sweet words that always make you laugh, make you smile. Make you feel so warm.

Clink.

You think of Moon and his bedtime stories, his calming presence, his cheeky laughter that would make your thoughts just a little fuzzy.

Clink. 

Right outside the door now. One loud bell jingling as the animatronic surely debates on whether to open the door. 

Clink-clink-clink-clink-clink. One way.

Clink-clink-clink-clink-clink. The other.

You're suddenly gripped by the realization that you still have that flashlight you found earlier on you. Your shaking fingers grip for it.

The door starts to open.

You turn on the light.

And brace for the worst.

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

Man everybody's got such fun and cute stuff for promptober and I'm out here making this (by choice mind you) shoutout to everyone browsing the tag and getting whiplash from my posts, ur a real one for that

You can find my other promptober posts here if you so choose

Thanks for reading!

[sunny-mercya]

No second chance

Bruce Wayne x Male Reader

Masterlist

Bruce and you had been together for 5 years and one day, without really telling you any reason or discussion it, he had broken off your relationship and two days later you had been thrown out, from a place you called home and being moved into a apartment.

At first you were confused, couldn't comprehend the situation at all. There hadn't been any signs before, that you both had begun to fall out love. Sure, occasional arguments and little bit of jealousy here and there but nothing too drastic to get it to this point.

Then the realisation had settled in, once you stood all alone in your new "home". You cried that night, ugly sobbing echoing through the rooms.

Now, three years later, the amount of time you had needed to tell yourself that it wasn't your fault, and Bruce had the audacity to ring your doorbell and asks if he could come inside.

Begrudgingly you let him in, the look he was giving you, so remorseful, had made you a tad bit curious. You lead him into the kitchen, asking if he wanted some tea or coffee and when Bruce mutely nodded, you prepared some tea just as silently as how brooding man, you once loved and perhaps still do, was.

Setting the streaming cups down and taking a seat yourself, you pondered if you wanted to ask or simply wait, till Bruce would say something on his own. You decided for the first.

«So, what brings you here Bruce? Do you need some advice from me of how to end another relationship?» you couldn't help it yourself to say this, to make such a jab, feelings you long had buried begun to resurface again.

Bruce flinched slightly at this, gripping the cup a bit too tightly and not daring to really look at you at all.

You narrowed your eyes a bit, brows furrowing. He looked different, more aged and roughed up. Those stubbles on his chin not really fitting him at all, giving a sense of low hygiene management. Eye bags and messy hair. Your once buff man, now thinner than you would liked it.

«The boys miss you [Nickname], I miss you.»

Bruce watched how your face scrunched up into confusion first and then into anger.

«You telling me after three fucking years, after you literally kicked me out of a place I called home, that you miss me? Sure thing, that's such bullshit I'm hearing here.»

«I had my reasons, I can't tell you them, but my love never had vanished–»

«Of course you had reasons! Keeping secrets again from me like before! Don't you like trust me in the slightest? A relationship is there to relay on one another!»

You swore, when Bruce is about to ask you to come back and to be forgiven, you will kick him out.

As if the boys had missed you. Another lie it was. If they had, they would have keep contract through the years, but there were none.

You sighed, had calmed down a bit. Not wanting to alarm your neighbours with your rising shouting and them calling the cops.

«Bruce, honestly, I'm not sure why you here at all. I moved on, I'm seeing someone and I'm happy again.«

Bruce knew asking for your forgiveness or a second chance, wouldn't be easy. He wanted to try at least, but hearing those news, that you were seeing someone else now, did leave a bitter taste inside of him.

«You should go Bruce.»

And Bruce did go as asked. Unspoken apologies on the tip of his tongue and no goodbyes being said. You had made it clear that it was over, completely. That you had moved on.

Bruce simply need to accept this.

[surshica]

Stay Home !

synopsis : yn was caught in the meteor incident instead of chishiya taking her to the boderlands when he was at work — a surpise visit.

genre : angst — fluff

A/N : my first one shot HAHA; this was kinda shit but yeah…ANWYAYS i trued i saw fruit basket tiktok and thought let’s make a one shot, and it’s kinda shit and rushed but 🧍‍♀️

— CHISHIYA x FEM!READER

inspo

‘and in my eyes, there is a tiny dancer watching over me.’

you could never sleep properly, there was an urge to leave this hell of a whole called the borderland. the mere thought of you on the verge of death didn’t startle you; the thought of chishiya leaving alone did. you made friends at the beach and very much foes. you enjoyed the company you had from kuina arisu and usagi. you were alone now. maybe it wasn’t a good idea to separate from the group.

running from the king of spade was though, you weren’t sure if you truly did want to risk your life to get into some car. you were more headstrong and empathetic yet stern at the beach. that made you let out a small chuckle. after playing many diamonds and heart games the itching burn made you want to leave more.

the black jacket you found comfort in had gotten dirty so you tossed it getting a new one, the skirt had been flowing in the winds slight breeze, your hair had been the least of your worries to keep maintained, messy yet you still felt beautiful. you were kicking the pebbles on the ground, a frown formed on your lips. chishiya was the only person you could think about there was nobody else, you knew your family were fine since they were out of japan but chishiya. every night you wished for you to get out of this place faster.

the sun beaming down made you hiss slightly, a sting coming from your swollen slept deprived eyes. covering the sun with your arm. you squinted your eyes to see arisu and what looked like niragi. a frown formed on your lips quickly yet quietly walking your way to arisu. “what’s happening?!” you yelled at arisu, he simply pointed to the gun next to you. nodding you grabbed it waiting for the right time to shoot niragi.

the burning hatred you had for this man was unreal. all the things he did to women was disgusting, he was the biggest reason you want to kill someone. niragi’s laugh boomed loudly in the area, a scowl escaped arisu’s mouth as you just inhaled sharply being aware of your surroundings.

you tried shooting when he was laughing but you were a tad bit too far to the right, your face twitched in annoyance. “seriously?! is that the best you can do? that’s so disappointing and..” “sad.” the pause in the sentence gave you time to calm yourself. “come on!” “shoot me!” “or are you too much is pussys to do that?” niragi licked the metal part of his gun like it’s his. arisu was very much shaking, you shot arisu a look that told him to calm down or we can die here.

“arisu im going to need you to pull yourself together or this can be the end of us!” you whispered yelled, arisu looked at you his uneasy breath was obvious; he was redeeming himself though. the air was filled became thicker and musty, niragi’s laugh was very much vibrating the air as he carelessly shot the cars. you rolled your eyes, he was seriously getting on your nerves and you just wanted to kill him.

the sound of feet walking alerted you, losing up the gun you put your hand on the trigger, pointing to the direction. you were about to shoot until you noticed the short brown hair, “usagi?” your question sounded more like a statement. arisu turned his head to happy to see usagi.

he wanted to drop everything to go to her but he knew he couldn’t, “what’s going on here?” usagi questioned looking at you arisu and niragi with guns point at eachother. “well isnt this interesting” niragi let out a wicked smile shooting two bullets towards usagi.

“USAGI WATCH OUT” arisu screamed towards her, the girl couldn’t move fast enough; her leg was injured. a gulp was viable and the sign of anguish watched over her. “fuck it.” you snarled under your breath running over to usagi stepping in front if her. a bullet above your chest and the other one in your stomach, arisu took the chance to shoot niragi in the stomach before running over to you.

the fall to the ground was rough but you couldn’t subside it from the pain of being shot. usagi’s face grew worry on it as she held your head in her hands. tears brimmed her face, “why would you do that..” hee eyes examined your body, you had a fox like grin on your face. “something told me i should” your breathing stopped slightly before you exhaled deeply, “plus i wouldn’t want the lovers to be separated~” you couldn’t help but crack a joke at the moment.

usagi slapped you lightly on the shoulder, you looked over to arisu, “i don’t know how critical these are..” you paused giving him a smile, “but please different the queen of hearts for me.” arisu nodded before resting your head on a jacket he found in the ground; grabbing usagi as they headed to different the queen.

you can feel more and more blood come out, some worry washed over you letting out a small laugh, the laugh turned into small crys. tears formed your eyes as the pain worsened, hands were shaken but you couldn’t help but laugh. as night approached your eyes grew slightly heavy. you didn’t know if it was because you were tired or because you were losing too much blood.

your bangs stuck onto your forehead as the sweat mixed with the cold air, breeze washed over. you looked up to the sky to see fireworks. a smile washed over your face, you can finally go home, you can see your chishiya. tears fell down your cheek; you did it. “niragi if you are sadly still alive,” yn grew a grin as tears rolled down her cheeks, “i hope you go to hell.” she closed her eyes as the darkness consumed her.

ılıl﹔ ◌ 𓂂 ˳⁺ 🦢 ꯭ ⊹ ⋆ ࣪

chishiya had clocked in for work grabbing himself a coffee, a black coffee. he didn’t mind it but it was definitely not his favorite. he only drank it to keep himself awake, the bitterness washed over his tongue making his face scrunch in disgust.

finishing the small cup he tossed it out heading over to his next patient, he had plans with you today, they were going to go on a picnic together but chishiya got busy per usual resulting in you just going to the cafe.

chishiya sped through patients hoping it could make time go faster but it just didn’t. he headed back to the hospitals cafe to get another coffee, he felt tired. as he grabbed his new cup of coffee he looked towards the now loud commotion  building; walking over to one of the nurses who had been watching in distress. “what happened?” his rasp liked voice had made the nurse jump in surpise before looking back at him.

“oh they’re the poor unlucky souls that got hit with the meteor.” her frown was evident, sadness in her eyes. “when was this?” his eyebrows furrowed as he scratched his head, “it happened around 5 minutes ago..” her lips agaped before closing it and shaking her head looking down at her phone.

he took his phone out his pocket to see if you had texted him back but you never did, a displeased look washed over him. you were never one to leave him on delivered for more than five minutes heck even ten, but almost twenty? he figured something was up. as he looked up he noticed a figure that looked oddly fimilar to him, as he looked closely the person had the same matching necklace as chishiya.

his breathing bitches, the lifeless body laying on the stretcher. the medics hurrying the bloody bruised girl to a room to hook her up. chishiya felt his feet start walking towards the girl. the walking went to a sprint, the sprint went to a full on jog. his hands weren’t even in his pocket. his phone was clutched in his hand with a picture of both of them on his lockscreen.

looking from the outside chishiya could see a boy’s lifeless body and yours. his eyes rested on the heart monitor that stopped beeping and went cold for a minute; his eyes winded slightly. breathed hitched. his lips turned into a downward frown. he didn’t want to believe what he saw, he wanted to think it was fake. he didn’t want to believe you were gone from him.

he was intently watching from the windows, he ignored even the slightest hi’s and hellos, his eyes were fixated on you. after countless defibrillator attempts they were finally able to get your heart back on track. they hooked you up quickly before exiting to other patients rooms. as the doctors and nurses left he slipped his way into the room closing it on his way in.

the curtain for the other patient was closed so it didn’t matter to him, he didn’t care for them he cared for you. he looked at the monitor before looking back at you. his hand brushed the messy strands off your face, his hand intertwined with yours. he placed small kisses all over it.

he was mumbling sweet nothings to your sleep body, this was way of hoping you would wake up soon. he had closed his eyes calming himself. he didn’t like stress, he felt your hand slightly twitch making his eyes flare right open.

ılıl﹔ ◌ 𓂂 ˳⁺ 🦢 ꯭ ⊹ ⋆ ࣪

your eyes opened slowly as a bright light beamed through the windows and the ceiling, hissing at it you quickly close your eyes. opening them back slowly you felt someone’s hand holding onto your, looking to the right you can see him and in his glory.

a small smile formed on your face as you put your other hand on his cheek, “chishiya..” a roughed voice escaped your lips, you didn’t know if this was real or if this was still the borderlands. you quickly look down to see your bandaged wounds; your head slowly looked back up at the happy chishiya.

“i was wondering why you didn’t text me back” he smiled moving your palm to his lips placing a soft kiss. “well i didn’t expect me to die yet” you countered back. chishiya let out a soft short laugh. you were still debating if this was truly real or just a dream. a single tear rolled down your cheek as you felt chishiya’s loving kisses warm your hand.

“how long was i out?” you questioned, you spent basically 4 months in the boderlands so she’d like the time here as well. “your heart stopped for a minute..” your eyes has widened slightly as the words, lips agaped. closing your eyes you let in another small breathe before looking at chishiya.

“i have so much to tell you chishi..” you moved your hand around his neck pulling him closer, nose touching eachother, your smile was brighter than he could ever remember.

“i’m sure you do..” his cat like grin formed onto his face—leaning closer he kissed you ever so slowly. a gentle slow kiss that had so much passion in it. you smiled into the kiss, oh how much you missed his touch. you pulled him closer to you lightly to deepen the kiss.

the kiss was short yet sweet, his hand still connected to yours. he licked his lips as his eyes stared into your tired ones, “next time stay home” a small like smile formed on his lips. “alright doctor~”

tags !!

@nanamora @saiewithakatana @chiishiiya @bowscale @theinfaethablefig @luv4kuina @eissaaaa @fiona782 @eshtravagent