#i was actually having a bad day before writing this down
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Under the Tree
➪the one where you and tyler celebrate christmas together, and he has a surprise waiting for you underneath the tree.
Warnings: fluff, swearing, mentions of smut, nothing too wild (yes, i write fluff too).
Word Count: 2.8k
Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡ | Merry Christmas !
The department store was crowded, but what store wasn’t during this time of year? Christmas was next month, after all.
You were currently in the ornament aisle of the store, practically shoulder to shoulder with Tyler and an elderly woman that was standing to the left side of you. While you felt a little bad for dragging your boyfriend here after he just finished a rather grueling chase yesterday and likely still needed to rest, Tyler was still a pretty festive guy. And the chances of there being another tornado for the next few months was unlikely, so he would have lots of time to rest.
And he didn’t even look annoyed or irritated at the moment, even though you had been in this aisle for about fifteen minutes now. His arm was slung around your waist as your eyes flickered all over the various boxes of Christmas tree ornaments, an active debate going on in your head as you thought about what theme you wanted to go for this year.
This would be yours and Tyler’s first Christmas together, alone that is. You’d been together for almost three years, and the first year you had spent the holiday with your own families, and the second year with all of them together, but this year it was just you and him. Tyler’s family is going on a vacation this year, so you and he spent last weekend with them, and your mom was taking care of your dad since he just had surgery on his leg, so it wasn’t really a good year for them. Though you were planning on stopping by a few days after Christmas.
With that being said, this was the first year it was just you and Tyler, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t so excited to spend the holiday with him.
“No rush, babe, but is there a reason we’ve been standin’ here for over ten minutes?” he asked after watching you glance between two different boxes over and over again. “Again, no rush at all, but…someone’s grandma is looking a little pissed off.”
When you looked to your left and saw the elderly woman glaring at you, your hand came up to cover your mouth as you tried to hold in a laugh. “She has a valid reason,” you said, leaning more into your boyfriend’s side to give her a little more room. “This time of year is…stressful for everyone.”
Tyler hummed in agreement, wrapping his arm tighter around you as he leaned down to press a kiss to the top of your head. “True…but I don’t think pickin’ out what to put on the tree is very stressful,” he teases, “Or at least it’s not supposed to be.”
You laughed quietly, watching as the woman grabbed a box of all red ornaments before briskly leaving the aisle. “I don’t know which ones I want,” you whined, pulling him back to where you were before. “I don’t know if we should do red and green, or white and gold, or white, gold and red.”
Tyler laughed under his breath as he looked at the multitude of different colored ornaments on the shelves. “Well, we have a pretty big tree, why don’t we do a mix of all of them? And maybe we can add some random ones here and there. We still have the ornament my mom got us last year to put on too, remember?”
“Oh yeah,” you smiled, looking back at him. His mom had gotten you a cute ornament that said both yours and Tyler’s names on the brims of a Santa hat that two penguins were wearing, and you were kind of obsessed with it. “That’s actually a really cute idea. You’re better at this than I thought you’d be.”
Tyler smirked, wrapping his arm around your waist again as he pulled you back against his side. “I love Christmas, you know that,”
You nodded, wrapping both your arms around his middle as you leaned your head against his chest. “I know you do,” you hummed, “But most guys don’t.”
“Baby, I think we’ve long since discovered that I’m not like most guys,” he grunted, reaching for both the big boxes of the red and green ornaments, leaving you to grab the smaller box that held both white and gold ones.
When he gestured for you to finally leave the aisle, you rolled your eyes. “Must you always show off?” you huffed, grabbing the smaller box before following after him.
“In front of you?” he grinned, “Always.”
-
“Pick a movie already,” you groaned, worried that the candy cane hot chocolate you had made for both you and Tyler would be stone cold by the time a film was even chosen. The living room was only lit up by the recently put up Christmas tree in the corner, an array of ornaments scattered on its branches, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t think it was one of the cutest and prettiest things you had ever seen.
Tyler turned around from where he was hunched over the fake fireplace. The remote had been lost a long time ago, so whenever either of you wanted it on, you had to get onto your knees and hit the button manually.
The look he gave you had you cackling as you draped the big throw blanket your mom got you a few years ago across your body. “I did,” he said, “Two of them, actually. You said no to both.”
You laughed and sipped on your drink. “The Grinch is so overrated, and Home Alone is so overplayed,” you mumbled, placing your whole palm around your mug to warm your hand. “We watch it, like, five times every December.”
Tyler, once he turned the fireplace on, stood up and towered over you, his hands on his hips. His red and green Christmas pyjama pants he was wearing made your smile grow, even though you were wearing matching ones, complete with Max from The Grinch scattered all over the fabric. “Because it’s a classic,” he defended his choice of movie as he moved towards the couch. “And it’s good. Your choice was awful, but you don’t hear me complainin’, do you?”
His words weren’t harsh at all but rather teasing as he grabbed his own mug before sitting next to you and leaning over to kiss your cheek when you draped the blanket over him as well. “Love Actually is good,” you muttered, bringing the rim of your mug up to your mouth again.
Tyler laughed, reaching for the remote with his free hand. “Babe, it’s barely a Christmas movie,”
“Okay, you have not seen it enough times to be able to say that,” you said and Tyler grunted.
“Alright, fine, it doesn’t feel like a Christmas movie,” he corrected himself as he flipped through the Holiday section on Netflix. “How about…this one?”
You looked up and saw that he was hovering over Four Christmases, and your lips curved into a smile. “Okay,” you answered, cuddling close to him while being careful not to spill your drink.
When the opening scene started, Tyler turned his head and nuzzled his nose against your temple. “We should do that,” he murmured, draping his arm around your shoulder as he pulled you closer to his side.
“What?” you laughed, your eyes still on the TV but your focus was almost entirely on your boyfriend.
“You know…roleplay,” he said, and your face heated up as you looked over at him, seeing the mischievous look in his eyes you were very used to by now.
“Roleplay?” you echoed, tilting your head back to get a better look at his handsome face. “You wanna call me a bitch, hmm? And tell me you hate my earrings?”
Tyler’s face heated up now and he quickly shook his head. “No, that’s not what I meant,” he rushed out, but you just laughed and draped your legs over his under the blanket. “I just meant, like…you know, pretendin’ we don’t know each other, only for me to kiss you in front of a room full of people like it’s the only thing I want to do for the rest of my life.”
You bit your lip and pressed your cheek against his shoulder, running the tip of your nose along his jawline. “You already do that,” you murmured, “Kiss me in a room full of people. What would be different?”
“I don’t know,” he shrugged, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead before pressing his own against it. “We could make it like our first date all over again. I could act all cool and confident, when really I was already fallin’ head over heels for you, and you could pretend you aren’t completely obsessed with me already and just dyin’ to hear more of my storm chasin’ stories.”
You scoffed, pulling back to lightly slap his shoulder. “You’re so full of it,” you shook your head before moving closer to him again. “It wasn’t your stories that drew me in, it was you. Just you.”
Tyler smiled down at you before leaning in and pressing a firm kiss to your mouth. “Everythin’ about you drew me in,” he mumbled against your lips. “Your eyes, your laugh, your smile…and those tight jeans you were wearing definitely did somethin’ to me.”
You rolled your eyes and placed your hand flat against his face, pushing him away from you. “Once again, you’re full of it,” you muttered, quickly pulling your hand away from him when his tongue poked out and licked your palm. “And disgusting.”
Tyler laughed, and the sound made your mouth curve upwards in a smile as you turned your gaze back to the movie. “You love it,”
-
Christmas Day always seemed to creep up on you ever since you became an adult, unlike how it seemed to take forever to arrive when you were a kid.
With that being said, it was just as exciting as it was when you were younger. Back then, you, like any other kid, loved receiving gifts, but now that you are older, you love giving them out.
Okay, maybe you go a bit overboard every year, but your mom could always use another mug, and your dad could always upgrade his housecoat. And Tyler could always stock up on that piney, sexy cologne you fucking love.
When you woke up on the 25th of December, alone and cold in your bed, you groaned and grabbed Tyler’s Tor-nae-do hoodie and shrugged it over your shoulders, the grey fabric matching well with your Grinch pajamas.
You left the room and walked down the stairs, hearing the faint sound of Christmas music playing from the living room. When you entered the room, you found Tyler sitting on the couch, his laptop placed on his thighs and his legs kicked up on the coffee table as he scrolled through the comments on an old upload.
“Working on Christmas?” you asked with a tired grin, crossing your arms as you leaned against the doorway.
Tyler looked over at you, his handsome grin forming on his lips as he closed his laptop, instantly giving you his full attention like he always did. “Someone has to,” he teased, setting it aside as he leaned back on the couch. “Kinda hard to make money when you’re in bed and sleepin’ all morning.”
You scoffed and rolled your eyes, pushing off the wall when he reached his hand out to you. “It’s only ten thirty,” you mumbled, crawling onto his lap as you snuggled up on his chest. “And yeah, yeah…you’re the breadwinner out of the two of us. I know that.”
Tyler hummed as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his arms wrapping around your body as he held you against him. “That’s not true and you know it,” he murmured, dipping his head down to nuzzle his face against your neck. “Merry Christmas, baby.”
You smiled, closing your eyes as you pressed a soft kiss to his jaw. “Merry Christmas, Ty,” you said back, sitting up on his lap and placing your hands on his chest. “What do you say? I make breakfast, we sit for a bit, then open presents? Maybe after we can have a nap too…you kept me up late last night.”
Tyler smirked, shrugging a bit as he ran his hands up your back, under his hoodie. “What can I say? I know how to celebrate a holiday,” he grinned, then sat up a bit. “How ‘bout presents first? I got you somethin’ I’ve been dying to see you open for weeks now.”
One of your brows raised as you let out a soft hum. “Weeks, huh?” you echoed, a small smile forming on your lips. “Alright, we’ll do presents first.”
“Okay,” he immediately agreed, his hands giving your hips a gentle squeeze. “Open mine first. It’s right there, under the tree.” he nodded towards the corner of the living room, the Christmas tree lit up in a soft, warm tone, and under it was a small, surprisingly well wrapped box.
“Okay,” you said, getting off his lap to retrieve the box, and one of the gifts you got him. You walked back over to him and sat down on the couch beside him, rather than on top of him again, and placed your gift for him on his lap. “Remember, we said we weren’t going to go overboard since it’s just us this year, right? You remember that?”
Tyler grinned and draped his arm around your shoulders. “Babe, just open it,” he laughed, his other hand wrapping around one of your thighs to pull you closer to him.
You laughed quietly too, draping your legs over his lap. As your fingers began ripping at the wrapping paper, you noticed that Tyler began to shift beside you, but he only gestured for you to keep going when you looked over at him. “Are you okay?” you asked, glancing up at him again as you pulled off the rest of the paper. “You’re acting kinda weird or anxious or-”
You cut yourself off when you opened a small box, and you quickly looked down to see what was in it. When your eyes caught sight of the princess cut ring that was sitting on the velvet cushion inside the box, your throat closed up as a soft gasp left your mouth.
“Ty,” you murmured, your eyes burning a bit with unshed tears as you tore your gaze off the stunning ring to look over at him.
Tyler looked less nervous now as his fingers ran up and down your thigh, his eyes wide but his face relaxed. “Baby,” he said back, reaching up to caress your jaw in his hand. “I love you. More than anythin’ in the world. You know that.”
You nodded quickly, your hands shaking a bit as you looked between him and the ring in the box. “Yeah,” you whispered, gripping his arm tightly with the hand that wasn’t holding the box.
“I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” Tyler rasped, taking the ring out of the box as he held it between his fingers. “I want to marry you, babe. I want everythin’ with you, forever.”
Your cheeks heated up in a blush, your eyes filling with tears as you moved closer to him. “I want that too,”
“Yeah?” Tyler grinned, taking your left hand in his as he held the ring up to you. “Will you marry me, baby?”
You were nodding before he even finished asking the question, your arms thrown around his shoulders as you pressed a deep kiss to his mouth. “Tyler, oh my God,” you mumbled against his mouth, your voice muffled by his lips. “Yes.”
Tyler laughed against your lips, his arms wrapping tightly around you as he pressed multiple kisses to your mouth. Neither of you knew how long had passed before you finally broke the kiss and pulled back so he could slide the ring onto your finger, and already you were absolutely obsessed with it.
“It’s so beautiful, Ty,” you said quietly as you gazed down at the new addition to your left hand.
“Yeah? I tried findin’ the prettiest one because you’re the prettiest girl,” he smirked, running his hand up and down your spine as you snuggled up against his side. “This one will have to do.”
You scoffed and shook your head, nuzzling your face against the side of his neck. “It’s perfect,” you mumbled, kissing his shoulder. “I love it. I don’t even want you to open my gift now because you’ve given me the best one by far. I feel cheap.”
Tyler laughed, holding you tightly against his side as he looked down at the gift bag you had put on his lap. “Oh yeah, it’s gonna take you at least…I don’t know, four Christmases to catch up to me now,” he said, a proud smile on his face, and he was clearly happy with his stupid joke as he reached for the bag. “Oh, and thanks for the cologne by the way, wifey.”
#grumpys glen grove#tyler owens#tyler owens x reader#tyler owens smut#tyler owens fic#tyler owens twisters#tyler owens imagine#tyler owens fanfiction#tyler owens x you#twisters#twisters movie#twisters 2024#twisters fanfic#twisters tyler owen’s#twisters x reader#twisters imagine#glen powell
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disappearing act (jayce talis x f!reader)
2.7k words
content/warnings: jayce is in a strained relationship as a result of his work...and his sudden disappearance(s).
18+ minors dni; smut, rough sex, angst (my specialty), unprotected p in v, jayvik sprinkles, strained relationship, argument + lack of communication as a result, jayce being a meanie/dedicated scientist
notes: i feel bad that there's no addition to golden boy at the moment, so here's something else for the jayce girlies that i have been thinking about. once again, incredibly sad...but you love it.
full masterlist linked here
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆ 。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
The relationship you had with Jayce was one of the few things you good rely on. With his work, Jayce Talis may be considered brash—stubborn even. With you, though, he was the epitome of understanding. He watched you often, a careful eye on you. Relying so heavily on the products of scientific experiments, he seldom acted in a way that was proven to yield negative results. That was until he let the work consume him.
You were always supportive, he’d said as much. You were there to offer an ear, reassurance, and love to the man who needed it so much. He often recounted the story of his mother being saved by magic, a new detail finding its way into the narrative every time. It was then that you understood Jayce’s need to expose the world to this technology. To afford people the opportunity he was so graciously given—to protect people they love.
Tensions were rising in Piltover and Zaun. You weren’t entirely sure what was happening; Jayce told you as much as he felt was necessary. As a member of the council, there was so much to take on. You could see the stress. In the last few weeks he’d become distant, reluctant to even make eye contact with you. At the time you’d usually meet one another, he avoided you. So much was going wrong, yet you couldn’t find the right words. There seemed to be nothing you could say to comfort him. A feeling of failure sat within you, almost overwhelming the love you had for him. You started to question the man you’d often taken at face value. He wasn’t himself, no, he was something else entirely.
You sat alone, jotting down notes. There was nothing of particular interest there—but you had to keep busy these days. You perked up at the sound of Jayce entering the room, your shoulders immediately slumping at the prospect of knowing him so well that you knew it was him without a look back.
His voice broke the silence, “Hi.”
That was all you really got from him, greetings in passing. This time, it was to pick up a tool he’d left. You sighed, waving a hand at him, knowing that if it was up to him he wouldn’t see you at all today.
He spoke again, “Thanks.” He showed a specific sized wrench that he loved. You weren’t entirely sure how it got here, but you knew the gratitude he showed was true. If he took nothing else seriously at the moment, he’d always been nose-first into his work. His venture toward progress.
You nodded at his thanks to you, resuming your work.
He left his back to you, “I’m working with Heimerdinger again.”
This surprised you. Both the mention of his former mentor as well as the continued conversation. “Really?” You spun around in your chair, back to your desk.
He turned to face you, “He has a new protégée, this kid. I’m sure I’ve seen him before…around…but he needs help.”
“So you’re helping him,” you smiled. It was earnest. There was a warmth there, a passing thought that he might return to himself—a man motivated by care.
He nodded, “So what’s occupying your time? More of that meaningless writing you do?” He chuckled and motioned toward your open book.
You twisted the corner of your lips, stunned by the way his words pierced you. For no reason, you might add. A dry chuckle left your throat, echoing his. You deliberately responded lowly, looking toward the floor, “Wouldn’t have to do meaningless writing if my boyfriend had actually been around for once.”
It was his turn to curl his lip in irritation, “You know what I’m doing is important-“
“And yet there’s nothing to show for it.”
“That is not fair.” He stepped further into the room, “It takes years to replicate and master the technology I’m working on. Viktor and I have been at this for years, surely you understand that getting it right takes precedent.”
You nodded, understanding now. “Precedent over your relationship, got it.” You turned and slammed your book shut. His footsteps approached you and you stood in return, meeting his surprisingly close glare at you.
“You know thats not what I meant-“
“Isn’t it, though?”
“No, its just that…”
“Just what?”
He sighed, no words finding him. He couldn’t really explain what it was, exactly. Part of him felt as if you were right—that maybe he did think much less of you than he thought. That perhaps he’d become so accustomed to the havoc, the time with his partner, and the inconsistency of research. He searched his brain, landing on the fact that he was addicted to the high science bought to him. It wasn’t that he didn’t care about you. It was simply that like you said, he wasnt around.
“Maybe you should go.” His mouth was agape, realizing he failed to answer. He tried to call out to you, your name leaving his lips in a plea. You just needed time. His brows drooped, a defeated look over his body. He backed away, before turning towards the door. He stopped at the door frame, grasping it, the closest he’d been to latching onto you. “I’m sorry.” Then, he rounded the corner and was gone.
A few months passed. You didnt expect that when Jayce left, he’d seemingly disappear into thin air. When you found out that another boy, Ekko, along with Heimerdinger were also gone—you connected the dots. You weren’t sure what to do, if there was anything to be done. You weren’t dumb, but to Jayce or Viktor’s level of intelligence…you’d found yourself feeling inadequate. It was just your luck, too, that the one person who could help you was nowhere to be found. His partner, one you could tell Jayce loved so much—had vanished.
There were a few times where you examined their work area. You searched for anything to make sense of the loss. There was nothing. Like clockwork, you would end your search in tears, frantically clawing at the leftover notes and tools. When you couldn’t sleep, you would sneak into Jayce’s bed. The scent of him enveloped you. The tears would come, again, soaking his pillows. You’d later grown disgusted with yourself—the lack of composure. Your sensitivity only removed Jayce further from you; his presence no longer lingered. The smell of him had dissipated. You were beyond devastated. The yearn to have the entirety of the world to open up and swallow you whole was immense.
You resumed your meaningless writing. In the time Jayce had been gone, you went through two entire notebooks. You cried into a lot of the pages, leaving them impossible to write on. In others you poured out every emotion you felt—chronicling every detail.
He often found you in your dreams. Few times, you’d offer your mind the comfort of loving him again. Most times, however, you would torture yourself with a recounting of your last conversation. You would try to change what you said, how little you did…but the outcome was always the same. He would always leave you.
The sound of his familiar footsteps haunted you. Someone would approach you, the rhythm slightly off, but enough to get your hopes up every time. Tonight had been the same, people passing, none being the one you wanted the most. You laid in bed, gaze to the ceiling. You didn’t really have much on your mind, outside of Jayce Talis—again.
Footsteps approached, again, not him. These were heavier, irregular. It sounded as if one of them dragged. Your face twisted, a disdain filling you. It was enough. You turned, angling your back towards the door and the sound of the unfamiliar footsteps.
You arched a brow, hearing your door open and close. You angled your neck, not caring who it was but needing the time to yourself. “Whoever that is, please…go away.”
There was a pause, then a voice. “Still stubborn.”
Your breath hitched, your body turning to confirm whether or not you’d actually well and truly lost your mind. It couldn’t be, not after all this time.
“Jayce.” It wasn’t a question, as much as you thought it would be. It was true, he was there—albeit entirely different. His hair had grown longer, easily passing his ears. The twinkle in his eye was completely gone. His facial hair had grown. The man that you knew wasn’t here, this was the residual shell—a combination of leftover pieces of himself that had been discarded.
You crawled off of the bed, scrambling to him. You observed him briefly, taking in the details of him, before jumping into a hug. The scent you loved so much, that comfort that long left you, rested beneath a swell of ash and grime. He reluctantly raised his hands. You waited for the feeling of him embracing you back, but it didn’t come. You felt his palms instead, grasping your face. His eyes peered into yours, a hand dropping so that only one held you now. As you leaned into his single hand on you, he maneuvered his thumb. He brushed over your lips briefly. His grip then fell just underneath your chin. He let his thumb squeeze into you, pinching your cheeks slightly before nudging your face.
He wasn’t the same. You didn’t care. He moved toward you, causing you to lean into your bed. When the back of your legs hit the mattress, you sat down slowly. You looked up at him, not needing to exchange words with him. It had been too long.
All reason left you; you were sure that there was never any in this Jayce’s mind. You quickly reached for his pants, undoing the button and zipper as he simultaneously maneuvered for yours. You paused, only resuming when you were completely bare on the bottom. You could see him, pleading to be released from the confines of his pants. You reached at his waist, pulling his pants and underwear down. You were startled when they didn’t go down fully. Your gaze dropped, noticing the brace on his leg. The single pant leg had caught the metal. He huffed, the cold air finally sweeping against him. The sensation was enough to make hiss—the slight drip of precum forming on him.
He leaned you into the bed, circling your entrance immediately. There wasn’t time for prep, you two had already lost so much time together. He thought of you every day. At one point, he’d found a rock, etching what he struggled to remember of your face into the wall. Before he could think to eat, before he could save himself—he thought of you.
You deserved more than this. What he was about to do. But as he looked back at you and saw the pleading in your eyes, he knew you needed this. You needed him.
Without further thought, he plunged into you. You gasped at the resistance—your insides tighter than normal. It burned, Jayce pushing all of him completely into you. The pain was nothing compared to the mental abuse you had endured. This pain was worth it, you reasoned. At least, now, the pain was inflicted by Jayce—here.
He started his pace into you. Tears collected in your eyes, from both the overwhelming emotion and the way his hips snapped into you. He yanked you back towards him, a slapping resonating through the room. His eyes closed, brows furrowed. You noticed this, reaching to rub his arm that rested on your waist. His eyes opened immediately, looking at your hand on him. The gesture more than he deserved. He pulled out of you then, reaching to pump his hand up and down himself.
He spoke, finally, “Flip.”
You did so without question. Your chest found the bed, head leaning to the side. The bed was a bit taller than you and it left you on your toes. You fought to stabilize yourself—wanting to do whatever it was that he needed. He spread your legs, ramming into you without warning. The force of him pushing into you had you whining. A yelp escaped you with every thrust, the feeling of him relieving a desire that had built up in you since he left. Your feet eventually lifted from the floor completely, your arms gripping into the blankets. Jayce had the entire bed and its posts rocking. The squeaking, groaning, and slapping was entirely disgusting and quite reflective of your relationship now. The ordeal was desperate, pulling at each other until you fell apart.
You circled your hips into the firmness of the mattress. Your clit found the friction in exactly the right way. Behind you, Jayce found your hips, gripping at your flesh like you’d disappear if he didn’t. It wasn’t long before you came, face down ass up onto Jayce. You felt a pool of wetness escaping you, dripping beneath you. He sighed at the extra lubrication, speeding up even more. He worked you through his own release, filling you to the brim.
He collapsed onto your back. The feeling of his breath on your neck, the stubble on his jaw, and hair fraying onto your ear was entirely new. You remained motionless, afraid for the moment to end. It did, though, Jayce pulling out of you. He rubbed your ass briefly, before pulling his pants up and straightening himself. You pulled yourself fully onto the bed, grabbing your underwear and a throw blanket to lay over your bottom half of your body.
An expectant look was on your face. You dreamed of the day he would come back—return to you. You hadn’t expected it to be so wordless. You watched the man inch his way towards his hammer. It looked different than you remembered, flurries of color attached to it. It was somewhat eroded, too. You frowned at that. There was a clear resemblance here, the disfigurement an emulation of the relationship between you being completely different than when you first met.
“What happened to you?”
He leaned down now, fatigue catching up to him. “That thing I was working on-“
“With Heimerdinger…and…Ekko-“
“Yes.” He paused, a choked sob bursting from him immediately. “I-I was lost. Lost you.”
You tried to stand, move to him, but he raised a hand to stop you. The act was a warning, like he didn’t need you near him. As if he didn’t want you to get hurt. It made you grasp the blanket more firmly.
He continued, “I have to finish this.”
The thought crossed your mind. To ask him what it was he had to do besides be with you was on the edge of your tongue. Question why, you thought. Not even a second later you realized that despite his appearance, he wasn’t so different, really. Jayce was always on a mission. He chased a feeling you could never replicate for him.
So you didn’t let the question linger between you. “Just come back to me.”
He stood, glancing at his wrist. You noticed the shine of blue there, interlocking with his very being. He nodded, conviction in his words. “I will. I can’t fail…not at this.”
With a hobble in his step, he moved toward the exit.
You didnt call out to him. He didn’t turn around for a second glance. With every day that passed, you wished so bad that one of you had. You weren’t entirely sure if what Jayce did—disappearing again, was considered a failure. But you knew the man. It was for a reason.
It took you a while to come to terms with what happened. You couldn’t bring yourself to visit the site for days. As the Sun rose one morning, yet another night of no rest on you…you slipped out of the bed. There was determination in your walk. You made the trek out to where the destruction was. There was machinery you’d never seen strewn all over the trail. You grimaced, following the natural line of sight. You saw it, then, Jayce’s hammer. You moved with determination. As you approached, you immediately collapsed beside it. There was nothing left of him. He was gone. Entirely this time.
You reached for the handle of the man’s creation, cradling it as if it were him. Your lips wobbled, a cry threatening to fall from you. You gasped for air. “No…” You shook your head, whispering, “Jayce…”
#jaggedamethyst#jayce talis#angst#arcane jayce#jayce talis x reader#jayce talis x you#arcane x reader#arcane#jayce x reader#jayce talis arcane#jayce x you#jayce arcane#jayce league of legends#jayvik#jayce talis x y/n#jayce x viktor
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" surprise ! "
ft. michael kaiser . probably ooc kaiser . fem reader . drabble . bday boyyy . surprises . fluff ? <3
once again, bumhole english pls spare me😕💔 zero to no proofreading
wc: 305
being the man he is, kaiser hated surprises as he never knew how to react.
imagine how he felt when he left the training fields, hoping for your text just to not receive one. huh. what could his beloved girl be doing? on a cold, snowy winter night?
the bright lights illuminated the streets as it reminded him that it was christmas day. walking. walking. and walking. he finally made it to the apartment. he checked the phone, hoping for a reply from you. nothing. kaiser was slightly disappointed.
fumbling for the keys he wondered, why aren't the lights on.? as he unlocked the door he was greeted by a dark scene and silence in front of him. it hurt him a little, reminding him of how it was before.
"meine liebe?" kaiser called out. flipping on the light switch, he was caught by surprise. right before him was his dear [name] with the most gorgeous grin plastered on her face. in her hands, she was holding a freshly baked birthday cake. in addition, bread crust rusks on the counter?! GIFTS AS WELL?!
"scheiße, [name]," kaiser muttered, unable to react. god this man felt TEARS welling up in his eyes. AFTER PRACTICE TOO? you placed the cake down. running towards him, you jumped on him. in return, he embraced you into a hug.
"happy birthday, mihya!" you giggled sweetly into his ear, placing a feathery kiss on his cheek. he could cry. he could actually begin bawling his eyes right now. a single tear drop slid down his cheek.
"ich liebe dich auch, [name]," he whispered back. "extra ass. can't you say it back in engl-" he shut you up immediately, embracing you tighter. kaiser wondered what he did to have such an angel love him. maybe surprises aren't so bad after all with you.
— ©isaisliterallyhim, 2024
notes!
AHHH, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY FAVOURITE MIDFIELDERRR. oh my geezer weezers, my babygirl kaiser warming up to surprises?! 😱😱 god i love this man sm ill cry. again sorry for the butt plummeting english.. ya girls trying. and sorry for the really bad plot idk how to write fluff plus, 3am drabble 😔💔
#bllk#bllk x reader#bllk x you#bllk x y/n#michael kaiser#bllk kaiser#blue lock kaiser#blue lock#blue lock x reader#blue lock x you#blue lock x y/n#michael kaiser x you#michael kaiser x reader#michael kaiser x y/n#fluff#bllk fluff#blue lock fluff#drabble#how to tag#why is tumblr like this#why is tumblr hard#im hard haha#i love kaiser#happy birthday kaiser#chase Atlantic was playing while writing this#i love chase atlantic#isaisliterallyhimwrites
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Miller's Christmas Tree Farm
Part three - Underneath the tree
Summary: With the big Christmas Dance coming up you have your hands full. But somehow you and Joel always end up in the same place and make the most of it 😉 Confessions are made and finally you get that happily ever after you always dreamed of.
Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. reader
Rating: M
Wordcount: 4.7k
Warnings: no outbreak AU, major Hallmark movie vibes, fluff, a lot of flirting, kissing, Tommy and Ellie still being sneaky menaces, a steamy scene, no actual smut though, sorry guys, happy end
Co- written with @jennaispunk 💜
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Full Masterlist // Joel Miller Masterlist // Miller’s Christmas Tree Farm Masterlist
You woke up the next day feeling a little under the weather. Not full on sick but just…. Exhausted. With horror you realised it was way past time to bring Ellie to school, getting dizzy as you made your way towards her bedroom.
To your surprise she wasn’t there. You noted that her school bag that was usually in the hallway was gone too. Walking towards the door you noticed a pink post it hanging against it, reaching for it.
Took Ellie to school. Get some sleep and meet me in the barn when you’re up. Joel
A smile sneaked to your face as you took the note and walked back towards your bedroom. You searched through you medicine drawer, grabbing some Tylenol before you got back to bed, snuggling under your blanket, Joel's not still sticking to your hand as you caught yourself dreamily grinning at it.
Groaning you closed your eyes, melting against the mattress.
You really got it bad for the grumpy Miller brother.
Taking another look at the clock you think another hour of sleep would be in your best interest. Even though part of you wanted nothing more than go and see Joel.
You couldn't even remember the last time you felt like that about a man, or if you ever did before. You were falling for him, you were falling for him hard.
And maybe, maybe he was falling for you too.
Joel was in the middle of sanding, when he heard the barn door open. Looking over his shoulder he couldn’t and found himself didn’t want to fight the smile that sneaked to his lips when he saw you walk in.
He had been surprised this morning when Ellie knocked on his door and asked him if he could drive her to school because you were still asleep and Ellie didn’t wanted to wake you up because you had been so busy these last weeks.
So Joel took Ellie to school answering every single question she had on their way. Sarah had been the same way. Always asking the first thing that came to her mind. He found himself thinking about how much Ellie and Sarah would have loved each other if they would have gotten a chance to meet each other.
Once he dropped her off and gotten back to the farm he wanted to invite you over for breakfast but when he knocked on your door there was no answer. So, very quietly, he let himself in, finding the apartment still sound asleep, much like you were as he risked a glance into your bedroom where you were still sleeping. Smiling to himself he grabbed the first piece of paper he could find to write you a note, pining it to your door.
He then spend the rest of the morning in the barn, working on the sleigh he had been building. He had been planing to gift it to Ellie for christmas, but after realising how busy you had been since you agreed to Tommys proposition of moving to the farm and bringing it back on track yo had been working nonstop.
You deserved a day off.
So, if you agreed, he’d take you and Ellie on a long walk around the property today and then make dinner after.
„Whatcha doing?“ You asked and he smiled as he put the sanding paper down to turn around towards you.
„I am making a sleigh for Ellie,“ he said and your eyes widened in surprise.
„Really?“ You breathed out. He nodded, suddenly feeling a little shy.
„I wanted to give it to her as a Christmas present but I changed my mind today. I wanna give it to her today and take you both out on a walk around the farm. There’s a small hill not too far from here. You… You deserve a day off for how hard you have been working here.“
Instead of answering him you hugged him, inhaling his scent deeply, his arms closing around you to pull you even closer.
"I don’t think I ever thanked you for what you've gone and what you’re still doing. Not just for the farm but…“ he stopped talking and you looked up at him with a warm smile.
„You're welcome,“ you whispered as he slowly bend down to kiss you softly.
„Waaaahhh,“ Ellie cried out in delight as she slid down the hill, Joel behind her as you took photo after photo.
You couldn’t remember the last time you had heard her laugh like that. Hell, she even made snow angles with Joel earlier and it was the cutest thing you had ever seen, her cheeks rosy and eyes full of wonder.
When they made it down the hill Ellie got off the sleigh and let herself fall into the snow on the ground, out of breath. You looked down at her in amusement.
„I’ll just take a mini nap right here,“ she sighed, dramatically fluttering her eyes closed, giggling when Edward jumped on top of her, licking her cheek.
Turning your head to look at Joel who got up from the sleigh with a groan you chuckled.
„You should go now mom. Joel is a great…. Sleigh… Driver?“ Ellie said, now looking up at you.
„Is he now?“ You asked and she nodded.
„I need a break. You kids have fun,“ she nodded, before her eyes closed again. With a roll of your eyes you looked up at Joel who was grinning in amusement.
„There’s hot cocoa in my bag. Prepare three cups for us while I take you mom for a ride?“ He said and Ellie sat herself up.
„On it!“ She said with a nod, giggling when Edward dropped a stick in her lap. You already knew she would spend the whole time playing with Edward so you looked at Joel who was already looking at you and nodding his head towards the hill.
You were itching to take his hand but didn’t know if he’d be comfortable. Joel and you had not talked about whatever it was that you were doing. Yeah you had kissed. A lot. And yeah, he wanted to take you out on a date. But were you together?
You decided to ask.
„Joel?“
„Hmm?“ He looked at you, pulling the sleigh behind him as you walked up the hill. You could still hear Ellie laugh behind you and Edward bark at her.
„What are we?“ You asked and he kept looking at you, cheeks rosy from the cold today, lips pursed.
„We are…. Getting to know each other," he said and you frowned.
"That's it?“
„Yeah,“ he smiled, and you realised that you made it to the top of the hill. He took your hand, helping your sit down on the sleigh before he sat down behind you, pulling you against his body, lips against you ear, his beard scratching over your skin as he got even closer.
„I wanna get to know you. I wanna know what makes you feel good, and what kind of noises you make when I…." you felt his lips on your neck the next moment, slowly sucking on your pulse point and you whimpered.
„I wanna get to know all of you. Cause what I already know? Makes me hope you wanna stick around to be mine some day,“ he said, not giving you a chance to react as he pushed forward and the sleigh began to move downhill.
After checking in with the catering vendors the next morning, with Joel making you a sandwich for breakfast, you took Ellie to a little shopping spree after school. You needed something to wear for the christmas dance because all you brought was jeans and sweaters when you moved.
„You need a really pretty dress,“ Ellie said as you went into the third store.
„Can I make you try on one too?“ You teased, already knowing the answer.
„No thank you. You are the Disney princes, I am the funny side kick,“ she winked and you hugged her, ready to finally find something to dress that you both liked.
Meanwhile Tommy Miller, on his mission to meddle in his brothers love life was in your bathroom with his toolbox, making sure that you would need the help of his big brother if you wanted to take a shower later today.
When you finally found the dress you texted the group chat you had made with Tommy and Joel asking if they wanted some Chinese take out and if so what. Tommy answered right away, telling you that he would spend the night at Maria’s while Joel only answered with a yes please.
Waiting for his order you gave up when you made it to the restaurant and just ordered something for him you hoped he would like.
When you made it back to the farm Ellie quickly made her way towards her room, wanting to finish her homework while you texted Joel that you brought the food and that he’d be invited over for dinner after you took a shower.
Yet when you stood in your shower, nothing happened. There was no water coming out of the shower head. After two minutes of trying you gave up, getting into your robe. The water clearly worked as the sink had no issues.
And while you could do some handiwork, everything related to the bathroom was out of your comfort zone.
Thankfully Joel chose the moment to knock on your door so you got your slippers on and walked down the hall to open the door for him.
„Great timing. I need you as my landlord,“ you said with a teasing smile while Joel looked at you, his eyes clearly wandering down your body before he looked back into your eyes. You felt yourself flush under his gaze and he cleared his throat.
„Something happen?" he asked and you nodded.
„Wanted to take a shower but there’s no water in there,“ you shrugged and he hummed.
„Can I take a look?" He asked and you nodded. He smiled as he stepped in, closing the door behind him. You thought he would just walk straight to the bathroom but you were surprised when you felt his hand on your hip as he softly kissed your temple.
„Missed you today,“ he said and your heart fluttered in your chest as you looked up at him with a smile before he made his way towards the bathroom.
While Joel went back to his place to get his tools, you checked in on Ellie who was already finished with her homework and now working on her sketch of Edward that she planned of gifting Joel.
„Shower is not working so Joel is gonna take a look,“ you informed her and she nodded.
„I’ll call you for dinner when he’s finished?“ you asked and she nodded again, fully focused on the paper in front of her. With a small grin you closed the door behind you, walking towards the living room where you had put the takeout container. Searching through the food you took a spring roll, biting into it just when you heard the door open and Joel walk in.
Following him towards the bathroom, you leaned with your shoulder the the doorway, watching him work.
You never had this.
When something in your apartment back in San Francisco broke, your husband called the building manager instead of fixing it himself. He said, it was because he paid for the service after all, but you knew that he just wasn’t able to do it himself.
You heard Joel mutter under his breath before he shook his head.
„It’s really nice to have a man around who knows what he’s doing,“ you said with a smile and he looked over his shoulder, giving you a wink.
„Guess my husband only knew what he was doing when he was chasing after other women,“ you sighed and saw Joel stop.
„I know he's dead, but he was an idiot,“ he said, grabbing a wrench and seconds later water was coming out of the shower head.
„Tommy really needs to step up his meddling game, this is getting ridiculous,“ he said with a groan as he got up from his knees.
„Tommy?“
„Yeah. He fucked with the water supply for the shower. Probably to get me over here tonight,“ he said with a sigh, setting his tools back into the box he brought. He washed his hands before he turned towards you.
„Like I need a goddamn reason to see my girl,“ he grinned, both of his hands coming to rest on your hips and you took a step inside the bathroom, closing the door behind you.
„Your girl, huh? I like the sound of that," you hummed, both of your hands coming to rest on his chest as you looked up at him.
„Good,“ he said before he kissed you.
You were in the middle of finishing the last decorations in the space you had all set up for the christmas dance later that week when you saw Joel.
He had been gone almost all day, picking up stuff for the big party and taking care of last minute errands and apparently, going to a barber. His hair was cut and his facial hair was trimmed too which made him look even more attractive than he already was.
Fuck, he was hot.
He must have caught you staring, raising his eyebrow in question at you while you just blinked out of your haze, feeling your cheeks getting warm.
„Look at you brother! You look like you don’t come out of the woods anymore!“ You heard Tommy tease him and he rolled his eyes.
„Still living in the fucking woods,“ he grumbled and you laughed.
You waited until Tommy was gone to walk past him, your hand coming to rest on his chest as you smiled up at him.
„You look good, Miller,“ you said with a wink, patting his chest before you walked off and towards your apartment.
Ellie was already at the Christmas party with Tommy while you put the finishing touches to your make up. The dress you bought was a dark green velvet dress, floor length with a slit on your side.
You felt incredibly sexy as you lined your lips with the red lipstick you had gotten from the store.
You hoped that people would enjoy this party, maybe even donate some money.
These last weeks had you falling in love with this place. The Farm quickly having become a home to you and Ellie.
Which of course could also have to do with you falling for Joel Miller.
Taking a deep breath, you took one last look at yourself in the mirror before you made your way towards the party, hoping everything would turn out perfect.
You excuse yourself from a group of parents from Ellie’s school and made your way over to the bar for a drink. You had barely said two words to Joel all night, the guests had kept you busy chatting and dancing. It was nice having friends again, people to laugh and joke with, but your mind and your eyes kept wandering back to Joel. Maybe if you went over to talk with him you could get at least one dance out of him.
Joel stood off to the side, observing instead of participating. He was friendly to anyone who stopped to talk, but he wasn’t working the room the way you did. He admired the effortless grace you had when dealing with people. He was getting better at it, but he’d never be as good as you. He knew how lucky he was to have you around, and not just for the farm. You had made him open his heart in a way he never thought he would again.
And you looked so beautiful tonight, the dress hugging your every curve and Joel just wanted to go over and kiss you in front of every single person, so everyone knew you were his.
Would you like that?
He shook his head, taking another sip of his drink, his eyes always on you, trying to decide how he could approach you best.
Moving through a crowd a people, you make your way over to Joel. It seems like every time you try to spend a moment with him, someone is demanding attention from you or Joel. The universe seems to be playing a cruel trick on you, having him so close but so far away.
Mrs. Donovan, the town librarian, stops you with a soft hand on your arm. She congratulates you on your success and wonders if you would be available in the summer to help organise some reading events for the children over their summer break from school. You tell her that you can talk about it more after the new year. The topic turns to her nephew who just moved back to town. You smile politely as she tells you how perfect he’d be for you, but you skilfully deflect her matchmaking, you have your sights set on one man and his name is Joel Miller.
Your attention drifts to the dance floor and you see Tommy and Maria out there among the other dancers. They look so happy with their arms around each other as they sway to the music. Tommy leans in and whispers something in Maria’s ear and she playfully swats his shoulder and laughs. That’s what you want: to share secrets and inside jokes with someone as you hold each other close, and you want that someone to be Joel.
A twinge of jealousy hits you as your eyes settle on Joel. He’s talking to a woman. You immediately recognise her as one of the single mom’s from Ellie’s school, one who’s constantly flirting with the Fiery red hair flips over over the woman’s shoulder as she throws her head back with the fake laugh some women do when they try too hard. Your fist clench at your sides as you watch the exchange. Joel doesn’t appear all that interested in her flirting, but that doesn’t seem to deter the woman at all.
The slow song ends and the couples begin to clear the floor. You’ve missed your chance for that dance with Joel, at least for now. The departing couples obscure your view of Joel and you crane your neck to see what’s happening. The way clears just as the woman puts her hand on Joel’s forearm and your pulse hammers in your ears. You’re going to put a stop to this right now, you don’t care how silly you look.
A little hand grabs yours before you get two steps toward Joel. You look down at Ellie smiling brightly.
“Mom, come dance with me! It’s my favourite song!!”
She tugs you toward the dance floor as you shoot a glance in Joel’s direction. You open your mouth to protest but Ellie’s pleading eyes make you give in. Joel will have to wait.
Joel rests his forearms on the fence and looks out over the farm. The steam of his breath rose like a smokestack toward the night sky before disappearing into the black. He was damn proud of how this place had flourished, and he had you to thank for it. You had breathed life back into this place, and into him too.
“Trying to hide from me, Miller?”
You saw him seek out the door and knew it was the perfect opportunity to steal a few minutes with him without interruption. The warmth of his arm seeps through your coat as you lean against the railing next to him.
He chuckles softly, the corners of his eyes wrinkling in that way that makes your knees weak.
“Nah, just needed a break from all the noise.”
You hum softly. Joel’s tolerance for people was getting better but you knew he had his limits. The full moon in the night sky made the snow on the ground almost sparkle. The muffled sounds of music trickle out from behind the closed barn doors. It’s not quite loud enough to make out the lyrics, but you can hear the beat and its slow dancing music. This is perfect. You nudge Joel with your shoulder and smirk.
“I was hoping I’d get one dance with you before the night is over.”
Joel swallows hard. Holding you close was going to make him think about things he shouldn’t be thinking about right now. Besides, he hasn’t slow danced with anyone in a very long time, he’s not even sure he remembers how.
“Sorry, darlin’, I’m not much of a dancer…” he mumbles. “I’m probably terrible at it.”
Your brow furrows, not believing that for one second. You know he has rhythm, he plays the guitar.
“Prove it.”
His eyes go wide, momentarily stunned at words.
“E-Excuse me?” he stammers.
You eyes gleam with mischief as you smirk at him. Maybe he was a terrible dancer but you were willing to take that chance.
“I said, Prove. It.” You repeated, emphasizing the ‘p’ and the ‘t’. “I wanna see what a terrible dancer you are, Joel Miller.”
He huffed a laugh and narrowed his eyes.
“You asked for it.” he grumbled. “No cryin’ when I step all over your pretty shoes.”
He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close. The second you started swaying to the beat, the rest of the world disappeared; all that mattered was this moment. His large hands splayed across your back, one thumb gently rubbing up and down against the small of your back. The body heat is just radiating off him and you wonder how he stays so warm all of the time. You melt into his arms and rest your head on his shoulder. You find yourself envisioning nights like this in front of the fireplace, slow dancing to the music in your head after Ellie is fast asleep. You close your eyes to clear those thoughts, you’re getting ahead of yourself now; you need to just relax and enjoy the moment for what it is.
Something cold and wet tickles your cheek and you open your eyes to see tiny flakes falling from the sky. You giggle softly as a snowflake lands on your nose. This couldn’t be more perfect. Joel’s hands start to drift lower as you raise you head to look at him. The snow is beginning to collect in his hair and the sight takes your breath away.
“I never took you for a liar, Joel Miller.” you teased.
“A liar?”
His left brow arches and he looks at you, blinking a few times.
“Mmm hmm. You said you were a terrible dancer and your not.”
A throaty chuckle reaches your ears and he tugs you even closer.
“I didn’t lie, darlin’” he whispered softly. “I said I’d ‘probably’ be terrible at it. It’s been a hell of a long time since I danced with someone, especially someone as beautiful as you.”
Your cheeks flush, and not just from the chill in the air. He had you on that technicality. This man made you feel like a teenage girl again and a nervous laugh trickles from your lips.
“I’m glad I was the one who made you dance again.”
“Me too.”
A calloused thumb brushed a flake from your cheeks and his lips slowly descended on yours. You didn’t expect him to kiss you out in the open like this and you softly gasp. Joel takes advantage of your parted lips and deepens the kiss, his soft tongue slipping gently into your mouth. The kiss wasn’t rushed or passionate; it was slow and honest, like it was meant to happen at this exact moment.
You smile when you pull away. This was like a scene from one of those cheesy Hallmark movies, and you loved every minute of it.
The barn door creaks open and the two of you separate, putting enough distance between you so no one would ask any questions. Tommy’s head peaks around and looks at the both of you for a moment.
“Hey, I think the little kiddo is getting tuckered out.”
You sigh softly. You completely forgot about the time. Ellie had to be exhausted from all the dancing and playing with her friends. A mother’s job is never done. This moment would have to be on hold for the time being.
“I’ll be right in.” you tell Tommy.
You back even further away from Joel and turn to head back into the barn. You shoot him an apologetic glance over your shoulder as you open the barn door and slip inside.
You were about to walk back towards the party when you noticed Joel coming towards you. He took your hand and pulled you with him with a whispered come with me and you did.
He took you back to his house, pushing you against the closed door and kissed you. With a gasp your lips parted for him, your hands flying up into his hair, Joel deepening the kiss.
"I want you," he mumbled, kissing down your jaw.
"I want you so much, please let me make you feel good," he almost begged and you nodded.
„Please, Joel," you whispered and he kissed you again, hands pushing up the skirt of your dress, wrapping one of your legs behind him and oh, you could feel him already hard against your thigh.
You let your head fall against the door as he kissed down your neck, your hands in his hair. You could feel one of his hands slowly running up your thigh and you were sure you stopped breathing the moment the back of his fingers brushed over your panties.
He hummed.
„Need you in my bed. Knees are gonna be fucked if I’ll do what I wanna do right now,“ he mumbled against your skin and you chuckled.
„Take me to bed then,“ you whispered.
Christmas morning was spend in the Miller’s house. Tommy had invited Maria and you and Ellie hadn’t even been asked, more like expected there. Joel had made pancakes while Ellie had unwrapped her presents.
It was a great day where you felt like part of a family.
Something you haven’t had in a long time.
It was also spend using every moment nobody was watching or in another room making out with Joel. You felt like a teenager, trying to hide from the parents and you loved it.
Joel and you had decided to not tell everyone right away. Not because he didn’t want to tell anyone, but more because of what his brother and you daughter would come up with to get the two of you together.
And oh did they try.
Your car broke down on the street leading to the farm, but too far out to walk back. When of course Joel got there to check her car, he found that someone had messed with the battery.
The things Joel did to you on the backseat of his truck while you waited for the battery to charge would leave you daydreaming for days.
It was on the same day that the heat at the apartment went out and Ellie and you had to have a sleepover at the main house with Tommy, of course, spending the night at Maria’s, leaving you and Joel to spend the night alone in his bed once Ellie was asleep.
When you woke up the next morning, when the house was still asleep to Joel going down on you, you found yourself hoping that this could be how the future looked like.
The meddling continued and Joel and you almost looked forward to having some time alone to yourselves every single day, while the people who tried to set you up were none the wiser.
It was on New Years Eve, the countdown shouted down from the people both Joel and you loved most that he held you and kissed you in front of them, wishing you a Happy New Year while the people around you cheered loudly. Most of them surprised, but all of them happy that maybe, just maybe you both found your happily ever after.
#my fic#joel Miller#Joel Miller x fem. reader#pedro pascal#fanfiction#fanfic#fan fiction#tlou#tlou fanfiction#pedro pascal characters
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hii!! i <3 ur fics, could u write one abt y/n finding out she's pregnant with her bf (hamzah) 's baby, and she tells him in some cute way and maybe with some fluff/smut?? i just feel like hamzah has such a breeder kink that he would love it😭
When the Time Is Right
Husband!Hamzah x f!reader
(A/N): lowkey proofread this (#ChristmasMiracles) I apologize, this is actually horrifically bad. One of the reasons why and honestly—it’s on me! I should’ve made a detailed request rules post! >_< but i hate anything that has to do with pregnancy—being pregnant—anything of that sort! I was really struggling with this and I tried to change it up to them trying for a baby after many failed attempts but… I still think this is HORRIBLE ;( I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me after taking so long to get back to you with a really shitty version of that you asked for </3
High-key angst, mentions of failed attempts of pregnancies, borderline smut but not really, still—MDNI!
wc: 1.3k
As awkward as it is to say out loud, you and Hamzah have been trying for a baby for some time now. And as much as it breaks your heart to see those pregnancy tests showing negative results, it hurts even more to witness the disappointment in Hamzah’s eyes.
You both try to mask your pain with hopeful smiles and encouraging words, but the silence that follows each failed attempt grows heavier. Hamzah, ever the optimist, often reassures you, saying, “It’ll happen when the time is right.” Yet, you’ve caught him more than once staring into the distance, lost in thought, his expression tinged with longing whenever the topic is brought up.
Today was no exception to your previous attempts, your husband sneaking beside you—your eyes meeting his, hesitantly. “What’s wrong?” He uses elbow to prop himself beside you, moving your hair away from your face with his other hand. It rested on your shoulder, messaging it a bit to help set some comfort for you.
“I’m…” you began, but the words stuck in your throat. Taking a deep breath, you tried again. “I know how badly you want this.” You looked away briefly, then added, “And I want it too.” You needed him to understand that this wasn’t something you felt pressured into—it was something you both deeply desired.
His face softened, his gaze full of understanding. “I know,” he said quietly. “We can try another day if you just want to sleep tonight.” His hand moved up and down your arm in soothing strokes before slipping down to intertwine his fingers with yours.
You shook your head. “No. It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?” he asked gently.
“I just don’t want you to be disappointed again.”
He snorted softly, a playful edge to his response. “You’re being ridiculous. Baby, I’m not disappointed.” You looked up at him, leaning into his chest, your lips pressing into a slight pout. “I see how sad you get. It makes me sad,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion.
Hamzah’s expression shifted, and he used the hand holding yours to guide it over his waist. Then he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer, cradling you against him as if to shield you from the weight of your own worries. “I’m not sad,” he said firmly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I told you before, it’ll happen at the right time.”
You hummed against his chest, the arm that wrapped around you moving up and down as his fingers ghostly ran across your back. You shivered, looking back up at your husband after hiding in his chest for a few minutes. He looked down—smiling at you. The gap between your lips closing, his smile felt against your lips.
He flipped you away from his body, hovering over you; his lips still attached to yours. Your hands slipping under his loose fitted shirt, feeling for his waist to pull him towards you. The way he kisses you alone shows you how much dedication he has for you. He sighs into the kiss, pulling away to take his shirt off. Taking the hint from your lingering hands.
You smile at him, the proud and excited smile on his face made you break into a fit of giggles. His index finger hooks the elastic band of your pajama shorts, pulling them away from you then letting it go so it’d snap back and hit your skin. Leaning down to kiss you again while his finger hooked your shorts off your legs.
A moan slipped out of your throat—sounding like a groan in pain, making him pull away to see what’s wrong. His lips were left plumper, eyes lidded—chest heaving. The sensual air thick around him, your heart skips a beat.
He raised his eyebrow, indicating his curiosity. “You okay?” He asked. Everything about this, his tone, his warmth, the energy around you. It could send you to sleep. Your hand reaches for his hip, moving upwards to caress his waist. “Yeah.” You cup his face, creasing his cheeks by rubbing your thumbs up and down.
Hamzah’s eyes wandered over your features, studying you intently, as if memorizing every detail of your expression. Slowly, his face leaned toward your right hand, his cheek pressing softly into your palm. His lips curved into a faint smile, and for a moment, the world outside your shared bubble seemed to disappear.
“You’re quiet,” he murmured, his tone inviting you to open up but never pushing. His hand slid up to cover yours on his cheek, his fingers warm and grounding. “You don’t have to keep everything inside, you know. Are you not feeling it?”
His words made your chest tighten, not in a painful way, but in that overwhelming way love and vulnerability often do. “I just don’t wanna let you down,” you admitted softly, your voice breaking slightly.
Hamzah shook his head, his smile faint as his hand squeezed yours gently. “You could never let me down,” he said firmly, his gaze locking with yours.
The way he looked at you made your heart flutter, a warmth spreading through your chest that both comforted and unsettled you. His fingers slid from your hand to your wrist, his touch light but intentional as he guided your hand down to rest against his chest. You could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your palm, grounding yet electrifying.
“Such a pretty girl. Pretty for me.” He murmured, his voice lower now, the edges softened by the intimacy of the moment. His other hand settled at your waist, his thumb tracing slow, deliberate circles that sent a ripple of heat through you.
You blinked, unable to form words, your breath catching as he leaned in closer. The faintest smile tugged at his lips before he tilted his head, brushing his nose against yours in a gesture so tender it made your pulse race.
“Hamzah…” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but it was enough to draw him in further.
His lips hovered over yours, teasingly close, his breath warm against your skin. “Tell me what you need,” he said softly, his tone a mix of care and something deeper, something that made your cheeks flush.
Your hand slid down his chest, fingers curling around the fabric of the hems of his shirt. That was all he needed to feel.
His lips met yours again, gently, with a hunger that had been building. His hand pressed beside your head to hold himself above you. The kiss was slow at first, unhurried and deliberate, as if he wanted to savor every moment. But as your fingers threaded through his hair, tugging him closer, his restraint began to waver.
The world around you blurred; the only thing that mattered was the way his touch ignited every nerve in your body, making you forget everything except him. Every issue you’d faced, every tear you've cried, every painful heart tug melted into an intoxicating sensation you couldn’t get enough of.
He hummed against your lips. His hand moved, slowly, from your waist to your knee, bending it upwards—spreading your leg away to settle in between them. A quiet gasp left your lips at his sudden change in manner. His hand slipped down from your knees to your thigh, settling past it on your hip. Squeezing as he pulled away.
His lips began to trail kisses on from your jaw to your neck, the way his breathing brushed against your skin made your heart feel warm, even in these situations where lust would be the only thing you’d want to feel, his love would wash down on you intensely.
Your arms around his neck, fingers playing with the ends of his hair. Enjoying the feeling of your husband’s sensual touch on you.
#hamzahthefantastic#hamzah x reader#deer’s reqs!#slushy noobz#hamzah fluff#hamzah x y/n#hamzah imagines#hamzah smut#hamzah the fantastic#hamzahthefanatasticxreader#x reader
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with great power...
art donaldson spiderman! au x reader
summary: stanford has a masked superhero on the loose, and you're trying to crack down on his identity. little do you know, it's your boyfriend art.
warnings: cursing, injuries, reader highkey gets mugged, art is being mysterious af, reader is incredibly oblivious, sappy at the end sorry, not proofread
author's note: HI so this is actually my first time writing a fic ever... but this au idea has been absolutely rotting in my brain for the past week or so and i need to get it out. enjoy!!!!!!
╰🕸️ ₊✧ ゚❤️⚬𓂂➢
"dude!" you say barging into art's dorm (not realizing that your poor boyfriend was in the middle of a nap) "look at the topic the newspaper just assigned me. some shithead on campus is doing parkour in a scuba suit, people are calling him 'spiderman'."
art is pulled out of his trance-like state when he hears the name fall out of your mouth. you feel bad after realizing you woke him up, seeing him wipe his tired eyes with a pout on his lips. "hey pretty" he says with a lopsided smirk on his face "what were you talking about? some spider-idiot?" you hop into bed next to him "yeah it's nothing...sorry for waking you up, just go back to bed, 'kay?"
you don't know what's been up with art recently. he rarely returns your calls, he's always tired, and when he's awake, he's either in a rush or incredibly sluggish. you asked patrick about it and he said that the beginning of a new tennis season is wearing both of them down. seems reasonable, right?
now, it's been a few weeks since you were assigned this story, and jess (your senior editor) wants you to photograph and interview this spiderman guy, because apparently he's some kind of campus superhero (returning stolen laptops, helping drunk sorority girls avoid getting hit by cars, the usual) however you have no leads so far.
until one day, tashi tells you a story about how he saved a freshman from the tennis team from being hazed, and you decide to ask your boyfriend about it.
"you don't know anything about a kid named steven mcdonald, do you?" you ask art as you settle down to watch some gossip girl.
"that freshman who survived a hazing incident? yeah, i know of him" he replies as he pulls you into his arms and kisses your forehead.
you pull away with furrowed eyebrows "well did he...say...anything about that night?"
"uh no. no, not really" he says (a little distantly) "anyway! i seriously don't understand why serena loves dan so much, nate is obviously the better choice for her."
you roll your eyes sarcastically "wow donaldson...really smooth transition! way to change the subject there honey."
"i'm sorry.." he replies as he plays with your hair "it's just that...i don't want you getting mixed up in that kind of stuff. if you got hurt.." he sighs "i don't know what i'd do with myself"
and so you promise art that you'll stop working on the article...until jess says she'll kick you out of the stanford star if you do.
one night, as you're walking back to your dorm after dinner with tashi and patrick (third wheel much?), a man in a black ski mask suddenly approaches you and orders you to put your hands up.
"give me your fucking heels lady...and your purse!" he demands.
"oh god no" you shut your eyes and groan "please sir, these are really expensive and- and these are manolo blahniks!! my mom bought-"
before you can finish your rambling, you can hear a thud, and when open your eyes, you can see that he's been wrapped up in some web-like substance.
"don't worry, he's not dead" a figure says as he walks out from behind the criminal. you feel like you know him, you can't even see his face but something about him is just so familiar, and you can't put your finger on it. until..
oh my god
"oh my god! you're spiderman! thank you so much, seriously. that guy could've killed me" you say excitedly, forgetting about your past opinions about him.
art- i mean spiderman, chuckles and says that it's no problem, and asks if he could take you back to your dorm.
"yeah! i would love that, thank you." you reply "actually, could i take your photo? i'm doing an article about you for the stanford star." oh and art eats it UP. he's doing stupid poses and acting silly and goofy (just to hear you laugh of course).
you get back to your dorm safely, and spiderart bids you farewell. just before he leaps out your window, he pulls a red stanford cap (one that you've never noticed, and one that looks suspiciously like art's) out of his pocket.
"hey, maybe i'll see you around" he says as he puts the cap on...backwards. something that only art would do. lucky enough for him, you're too tired to notice.
"...and those are the differences between meiosis and mitosis." you're trying to study for another biology exam when all of a sudden you hear a tapping noise on your window.
at first you think it's a bird, or some frat boy trying to piss you off by throwing empty beer cans at your window, but the tapping turns into banging and you start to hear sounds of pain through the glass.
you run to the window and see a boy in a familiar red and blue suit sitting on the windowsill. this time with a huge gash in his side.
"spiderman? oh my god, get inside, what happened?" you ask while scrambling for a first aid kit. art falls onto your bed, unknowingly bleeding all over your new floral sheets. he groans and holds his side, mumbling something about...well god knows what.
art protests as you try to patch up the very open wound by his waist. "you're just like my boyfriend art," you say with a grin "he gets all fucked up during his tennis matches and doesn't let me help him out." you can hear him through the mask but you can't tell if it's a laugh or a whimper.
"jesus- how long is this going to take? i have an econ final to study for" he says with a wince. "not very long if you sit still, spiderboy" you retort "why don't you take off your mask? you must be dying with that thing on."
you feel his face, and it feels...familiar. you slowly take off the mask, and reveal art's lips, sculpted nose, blue and brown eyes, and tousled blonde hair.
suddenly you realize. you realize the reasons for the missed calls, hurried kisses, and rain-checked dates. all this time you've been thinking that it was tennis kicking his ass, when really art was kicking other people's.
"hi honey" art mumbles, same lopsided, boyish smile that you fell in love with gracing his face "i'm sorry. i should have told you." before you can say anything, he kisses you and sneaks his hands to the small of your back. you can feel him smiling into the kiss as he pulls you into his lap.
"i missed you" you say, pulling away with a pout. you card your hands through his blonde curls. "i know, i know, i'm sorry pretty girl, it's just that...i don't want you to worry about me." art replies, pushing your hair away from your face.
you flick his forehead. "you dumbass. of course i'm going to worry about you, whether you like it or not...because i like you. a lot. no matter what kind of freaky superpowers you have." art lets out a weak chuckle, then he kisses you like a man stuck in the desert for 40 days. you can feel him drawing small circles along your hips and caressing your thumb.
you pull away one last time. "now tell me spiderboy...how did you go from tennis team captain to stanford superhero?"
#mike faist#art donaldson#challengers#challengers 2024#mike faist x reader#art donalson x reader#patrick zweig#tashi duncan#guys please i was in ap lang i swear i'm good at writing#spiderman
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Sevika headcanonsᯓᡣ𐭩
𐙚 Hello!! This is not my usual type of post,and I’m not used to sharing the stuff I write for myself with others but my friend convinced me to!
𐙚 Warnings: None,just lots of fluff! I’m not sure what setting this would be in,but I guess you could count it as canon if nothing went wrong..?
ᝰ.ᐟ Sevika who literally DEVOURS books day by day,like one day you would get her a book she really wanted and the next day she’s yapping about how amazing the ending was,she didn’t have bad eyesight before but since she’s doesn’t drink as much she finds herself with nothing to do so she starts reading,something she always wanted to do,and after reading so much,day and night,her eyesight started to get damaged,it’s not just the books also the age and the stuff she’d been exposed to while working for Silco.
ᝰ.ᐟ Sevika who still has all her old clothes,all her teenage stuff is packed away in the wardrobe and sometimes she takes them out to remind herself what once was.
ᝰ.ᐟ Sevika who actually likes it better without the heavy metal arm,of course when she out and about she has no choice but to wear it,thugs are lurking around the corner everywhere,but when she gets home the first thing she does(after throwing her boots off) is detach her arm and throw it somewhere in the living room corner. She’s actually pretty good with her balance and can do almost everything with only one hand,of course the stuff she can’t do she’ll ask you for help.
ᝰ.ᐟ Sevika who has a pickup she stole from a music shop years ago,it still works and surprisingly well,after a while when you get bored of all of her jazz and sappy music she let’s you play your own shit on it,your vinyl collection isnt that big but she appreciates your taste.
ᝰ.ᐟ Sevika who’s not as neat and tidy as she could be,she tries her best,but folding clothes with one hand is pretty hard,so she just shoves them in her closet,and moping and vacuuming is pretty hard too,so she gets herself one of those ting vacuums that work themselves,she trips over it a few time but gets used to it.
ᝰ.ᐟ Sevika who’s eyes sparkle in the dark,majestically so. She doesn’t know how it happens or that it even happened before you pointed it out,she said it probably something to do with the moonlight and becaus her eyes are grey,but it’s so beautiful. Also kinda scary when you get up to get a glass of water and Sevika comes after you all quiet and when you spot her you have a little heart attack seeing those two big sparkles.
ᝰ.ᐟ Sevika who journals because she’s scared of age catching up to her. She writes down every little thought about you,and all the loving moments she has with you along,she also writes reviews about the books she reads in there,it’s not like anyone reads them.. but she enjoys writing her opinions somewhere.
Sevika who actually starts enjoying life alongside you. 😽
#sillyposting#sevika deserves better#sevika x reader#arcane#soft sevika#sevika headcanon#wlw post#wlw
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Nativitas Domini
(noun) [Latin] Lord's birth
Jericho Ichabod X Reader
Word count: 5.6k
Requests: open
Note: Me writing something that's not Sol X Reader?! And it's fluff on top of that?! (I have actually never written fluff before if i recall correctly)
Unbelievable... Enjoy this Christmas special though, y'all (even though it's a tad bit late but better late than never, am I right?) and apologies for not having posted any one shot in three weeks (I was in a bad writing slump)
I initially wanted to make this another angst but I was too in love with the fluff, I couldn't bring myself to destroy that...
“My Love, wake up.”
A soft voice woke you from your deep slumber. You opened your eyes slowly, blinking away the remnants of sleep still clearly visible in your gaze.
“Crowe?”
You opened your eyes fully to reveal your lover's silhouette in front of the window, shielding your eyes from direct sunlight.
“Have you slept well?” Crowe brushed your hair out of your face and behind your ear. His gaze was full of love and admiration, as if you were the most precious gem, the most beautiful being he has ever laid eyes on. You hummed in quiet agreement and he chuckled.
“That’s good, that’s good. We still have quite some things planned for today, remember?”
You pondered for a moment, gathering your thoughts, since your mind was still foggy from sleep. Another quiet chuckle snapped you out of your thoughts as a hand was placed on the top of your head, ruffling your hair.
“We wanted to go shopping for presents, then bake some cookies and then go to Jess’ and Brittney's place to celebrate with the others. It’s already 10 am, it might be better if we get started soon.”
You slowly sat up on the bed, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes and yawning.
“I already made breakfast, the only missing piece at the table is you.” Crowe stretched out his hand towards you, a gentle smile playing on his lips. You looked at him for a moment, unable to believe that he is actually here with you, by your side. Taking his hand and nodding, Crowe helped you get out of the bed and the two of you walked towards the kitchen together.
The smell of pancakes and orange juice invaded your senses and you soon saw what Crowe had prepared for you. The table was set for two people, in the middle of the round surface was a plate, soft and thick pancakes stacked on top of it. Next to it was a juice pitcher, filled with your favorite juice. However, these weren't the only things on the table. A big bouquet with the most colorful flowers was placed next to your plate and cutlery.
You let out a soft gasp, looking over at Crowe with a wide smile, your eyes glistening.
“Crowe…they are beautiful…”
Walking up behind you and wrapping his arm around your waist, Crowe pressed a kiss on the crown of your hair. “They are no match for you though…”
You giggled softly in response and leant into Crowe's embrace.
“I love them, Crowe, thank you so much…”
The bouquet truly was beautiful. Purple calla lilies, white baby’s breaths and blue agapanthuses. The colors reminded you of Crowe, with his blue eyes and usual purple attire.
Crowe pulled your chair back, gesturing for you to sit down. Right after you sat down he moved around the table, sitting down in front of you. You loved mornings like these, even when the sun was absent they were filled with warmth. It was domestic. It was real. Sometimes you couldn't quite believe your luck. How were you fortunate enough to end up with someone like Jericho?
“[____]?”
You were snapped out of your thoughts by your lover's voice. Looking up, you saw him smiling at you with admiration and a hint of amusement in his eyes. His arm was propped up on the table, resting his cheek on the palm of his hand.
“What are you thinking about, Love?”
A warm feeling spread through your chest. You were still crushing on him as hard as on the first day. His words, his voice, his personality, his looks… Everything about him was perfect.
“I'm just… thinking about how lucky I am to be with you.”
A swift look of surprise brushed over Crowe's features before he smiled brighter than before. He reached over the table, taking your hand into his bigger, warmer one. “I am the lucky one, my Starlight.”
Swooning at his words, you realized that he had pretty much ruined you for everyone else, Crowe had you on the hook. You doubted that you could ever love someone like you loved him, but then again, you didn't plan to either.
You gave him a sweet smile and he let go of your hand after a few beats, gesturing for you to fill your plate with the pancakes he had prepared. He did this pretty often, surprising you with self-made breakfast, yet you fell head over heels for him over and over again, no matter how often he did it.
Reaching over with knife and fork, you took two pancakes off the pile, filling your plate with them. As soon as you took a bite you perked up. “Crowe, they taste amazing, did you change the recipe up?”
The pancakes were fluffy and sweet, even sweeter than usually. “Just a tad bit. I know that you have kind of a sweet tooth, so I added a bit more sugar.”
You weren't sure what was sweeter, your boyfriend or the sugar he added.
He was probably sweeter, even though he didn't have much of a sweet tooth himself. That brought up another question, however.
“What about you though? You aren't that fond of too much sugar.”
“I can handle a bit more sweetness in my pancakes. After all, I handle you everyday and you are by far sweeter than any pancake I could ever make.”
You had to suppress a grin at that. He could be so cheesy sometimes.
Time seemed to pass way too fast, it felt like the two of you finished breakfast in no time.
“I'll clean up, you can get ready in the meantime, Darling” Crowe took his and your plate and brought them to the kitchen sink. Thanking him, you stood up and you made your way to your shared bedroom to get dressed. You took a look out the window, snow was painting the world in a pure, innocent shade of white and created a calm, serene image. Perhaps Crowe and you can build a snowman later if you have enough time.
Walking up to the closet, you were pondering on what to wear. Crowe was wearing a purple sweater and black slacks, perhaps you could put on a matching outfit. After all, he loved when the two of you wore matching outfits.
You took a pair of black pants out of your closet, before looking for a purple sweater. You had one, albeit the color being a bit lighter, it would have to do.
The colors purple and blue had a special spot in your heart, every time you saw them, you were reminded of Crowe.
He was everywhere, his essence in everything.
The night sky, the ocean, the flowers in your garden during the warmer seasons and the bouquet he gave you this morning, even in your closet you found these colors more present than before.
You walked into the narrow hallway, painted dark red with a birch wood floor, to see Crowe was already putting on his shoes, sitting on the bench near the door. As soon as he was finished and laid eyes on you, he couldn't help but chuckle. “I feel like I have seen that outfit before somewhere…” He walked up to you, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you to his chest. “I love you so much, you know that?” He leant down to press a kiss to your forehead, before wrapping both arms around you in a loving embrace. “I love you too, Jericho… More than words can ever describe…”
Crowe pulled back to look at you and raised his hand to cup your cheek, his thumb gently stroking over the soft skin. Before you met him, you didn't know that it was humanly possible to look at someone the way he looked at you, but he proved to you that it indeed was possible and even if it wasn't, he would make it possible.
His bright blue eyes were filled with so much love, you couldn't begin to comprehend just how much love he felt for you.
Your face was gently pulled closer to his by the hand holding your cheek, his own face moving closer at the same time, before your lips met in a sweet kiss. It was an attempt at expressing your feelings for each other, but this universal act of love could only scratch the surface of what truly laid beneath your exteriors. Beneath all that skin, bone and flesh laid a love so profound, it almost made your hearts burst.
Crowe pulled back eventually, but you didn't leave his embrace without him planting another kiss on your forehead. He turned to take your black coat off the hanger and helped you put it on in his usual gentleman-like fashion. While he was looking for something in the hallway's dresser you were putting on your boots. The coat you were currently wearing matched his perfectly well, only your boots weren't matching - his being dark brown and yours being black - but you weren't going to nit-pick every small detail. Crowe stood in front of you again, a purple scarf in his hands. “It's cold outside, my Love, you'll need this.” His voice was as soft and caring as always, while he gently wrapped the scarf around your neck.
Opening the front door, Crowe gestured for you to walk outside before him. He followed close behind, taking your hand in his as he left the house with you and closed the door behind him. As you made your way towards the shopping center, the snow crunched under your boots, accentuating every step.
Despite the thick clothes you were wearing, which engulfed you in a comfortable warmth, the cool december breeze made you shiver. The coldness was slowly biting away at your skin and you tried your best to bury your face in your scarf, though it didn’t help with warming your face as much as you had hoped. Crowe squeezed your hand at this, trying to reassure you. “Don't worry, my Love, we'll be there in no time.”
The walk to the shopping center was peaceful, you walked by multiple groups of children who were building a snowman or having snowball fights. Looking around, you found everything to be covered in thick, white snow, giving the usually dull surroundings an almost magical feeling. It might be cold right now, but at least it was beautiful outside.
The mall wasn’t too far either, luckily. In this type of weather it was going to take around fifteen minutes to reach it, which felt like fifteen seconds in Crowe’s presence. That was one of the many things you loved about him. Any task, any situation, no matter how daunting or boring they may be, they seemed way easier to conquer with Crowe by your side.
The mall was bustling with life, chatter and laughter everywhere. Christmas tunes played from every corner and matching decorations were hung up everywhere. However, the highlight was the 30 feet tall christmas tree in the middle of the mall, cladded with different types of ornaments, ranging from fairy lights and tinsel to brightly colored baubles and little angels hanging from the branches.
“Whose present should we get first?”
You pondered for a moment at Crowe's question, “Jess. I already have something for her.”
Crowe quirked his eyebrow at that. “Lead the way then.”
You tugged Crowe along with you, leading him to a record store. “You know how Jess is absolutely obsessed with Eries, right?”, You looked up at him, feeling a little silly for asking this as you realized that he obviously knows, since he was the one who told you that information in the first place, “Of course you do…Anyways, I was thinking about getting her a vinyl record.”
“Does she even have a record player?”
You shook your head, “Nope, but knowing her, she wouldn’t play the record anyways, however, she would hang it up on the wall for everyone to see, just like her other prized possessions.”
“Are you sure she doesn’t have it already though? She’s one of his biggest fans after all, I kind of doubt that she doesn’t have all his merchandise by now.” Crowe’s question was a valid one, you haven’t told him that piece of information yet, since it was more of an impulsive decision. “I know that she doesn’t have it, she told me herself. See, we were talking about this special edition record of Eries newest album coming out and when the presale was happening, she didn’t manage to get a copy. I, however, did.”
Crowe furrowed his eyebrows at your explanation, still not getting the full picture, “Why did you try to obtain a copy in the first place? As far as I know, you’re not one of his fangirls.”
“Well, I thought it would make a nice present if she didn’t manage to get a copy. And if she had managed to get a copy I would have given it to another friend of mine, who likes Eries as well, but isn’t big enough of a fan to buy limited edition stuff.”
“You had a full-on masterplan, huh?”
You nodded eagerly at his reply, “All that’s left to do is to pick up the copy from the record shop.”
Tugging your boyfriend through the crowd, you weasel your way towards the record store. As soon as you arrived you were met with seemingly endless rows of shelves, packed to the brim with colorful records and the speakers faintly playing a Christmas song.
“By the way, how much was that record?”
You gave Crowe a side-eye, before averting your gaze as you walked towards the register. “Way too much…”, you muttered under your breath before clearing your throat. “But Jess is an amazing friend…I’m sure she’ll love this present!”
Crowe shook his head in disbelief with an airy laugh, “I’m sure she will, but I would still like to know how much that record was, you know? After all, we did agree on splitting the costs for the presents in half.”
You mumbled a response under your breath, incoherent to Crowe’s ears. When he asked again, your response was still quiet, but he heard your answer at last, “Sixty-five bucks…”
Crowe’s bright blue eyes widened a little in surprise, which is why you decided to quickly reassure him, “I know it’s a lot, that’s why the record will be on me, you don’t have to pay half the price-”
“Nonsense, I’ll pay half the price, just like we agreed, don’t worry about it, my Love” He cut you off, holding his hand up in the air to stop your rambling. You gave him a soft smile, your face a little flushed as you muttered a small “Thank you”, fully aware that debating with him on this matter will get you nowhere.
After informing the employee at the register about the order you wanted to pick up, he went to the back and swiftly returned with it, handing the record to you with a sweet smile.
Crowe wrapped his arm around your waist, an innocent gesture, though a hint of jealousy laced it. You were his partner after all, he should -and would- let the whole world know how lucky he got, even if this poor employee probably didn’t have any ulterior motives behind his smile and wave good-bye.
“How about we get Brittney’s present next?” Crowe asked, giving your hand a gentle squeeze as the two of you made your way out of the record store. You nodded, thinking back to all the times Brit told you something related to her interests.
“Do you already have something in mind?”, Crowe asked as he scanned your contemplating expression. You slowly nodded, “Yeah… she mentioned something about this skin care set she thought about getting. It’s a bit pricey, though…”
Crowe smiled softly at you, letting go of your hand and stroking the back of your head softly. “Don’t worry about it, my Love. If something is out of your budget I don’t mind paying more than half the price or entirely for the present.”
Your head snapped towards him as you immediately protested, “No way in hell am I gonna let you pay for everything yourself, that wouldn’t be fair at all!”
Your boyfriend could only chuckle in response, shaking his head lightly, “Whatever you say, Love…”
The two of you made your way towards the mall’s beauty store, Crowe’s hand tightly holding your own, almost as if he was afraid you would be swept away by the crowd of people present. It didn’t take long for you to find the skin care set Brittney told you about, despite the shelves being lined with all kinds of beauty products, ranging from perfume to high-end makeup products. Albeit the fairly high price the set was almost sold out and you barely managed to grab one of the last boxes.
The store was filled to the brim with teenage girls and husbands with their wives, all of them trying to find last minute presents for their loved ones. Thus, Crowe and you had to wait quite some time at the register, however, time always seemed to pass in the blink of an eye whenever he was with you.
“By the way, what should we get Deryl?”
You looked up at Crowe, waiting for a response as he pondered for a moment.
“Well, he loves football and sweets… though I believe you know as much about football as I do, which is practically nothing at all.”, Crowe chuckled slightly and of course he was right, both of you barely had any knowledge about football.
“Then sweets it is, we just have to hope that he eats them in private and not at the party, unless we want him bouncing off the walls-” You cut yourself off with a gasp as an idea hit you, “How about one of these international sweets boxes? As far as I know there is a shop here which sells sweets from all around the world. I believe that would make a great present for Deryl!”
Your boyfriend smiled gently at you as he responded, “Great thinking, let’s go there once we’re finished here.”
Crowe and you checked out at the register and made your way towards the sweets store shortly after.
The sweets store was probably the most colorful shop in the entire shopping center, the walls were painted in bright colors and even the tiles on the floor were practically glowing in neon hues. The shelves were lined with all kinds of sweets, all of them wrapped in bright packaging and sorted into different aisles depending on which country they’re from.
“Is there anything specific Deryl likes?” Crowe shook his head in response, thus you took it upon yourself to search for tasty-looking sweets, hooking a shopping basket on your arm.
You were able to fill the basket in no time with all different types of sweets; savory ones, sour ones and just classical sweet ones.
“Those are quite a lot of sweets… it might be better to give him this when we are about to leave…”
You raised an eyebrow at Crowe’s suggestion, “And leave the others with the mess of a Deryl who is high on sugar?”
He smirked smugly at you in reply and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his antics.
The two of you wrapped up at the sweets store not long after, walking out with two shopping bags in your right hand, one containing Brittney’s and one Jess’ present, and a big box of sweets for Deryl tucked away under Crowe’s left arm.
“We still need to get a present for Geo, do you have any idea what we could get him? It’s not like that guy is an open book when it comes to anything regarding him personally…”
“I already have something in mind for Geo, don’t worry.”
Your eyes widen ever so slightly in surprise at Crowe’s declaration.
“Follow me.”, He took your free hand in his, making his way through the crowd and leading you to the mall’s exit.
Curious as to where Crowe was taking you, you couldn’t help but ask him, “Where are we going, Crowe?”
“To the box office, it’s on the way home anyways.”
You furrowed your eyebrows at his response, but decided not to dwell on it. You would see what Crowe is up to soon enough, since the box office was pretty close to the mall.
As you left the shopping center, the coldness engulfed you in an icy embrace, stinging at your flesh. You immediately missed the comforting warmth of the shopping center, even if the atmosphere was chaotic. The only source of warmth you now had were your thick clothes and the warmth of your boyfriend’s soft hand, but all this didn’t do much to keep you from shivering.
After what felt like an eternity out in the harsh coldness of December, you finally reached the box office.
Crowe leant a little towards the cashier as he spoke his request, “I’d like to buy a gift voucher for 75 dollars, please.”
You lifted your eyebrows up slightly, before nudging him softly with your elbow while the employee was preparing the voucher. “I would have thought that you were gonna give him a present that’s more… personal.” Crowe looked at you for a moment, processing your words.
“Well, he’s not the type to be against vouchers as a gift, in fact, he thinks it’s the best type of present to give to someone; if it’s required to give them something, that is.”
“I guess that makes sense for him… he doesn’t seem like the type to give others personalized presents… or any at all, to be honest…”
Crowe couldn’t help but chuckle at your reply, “Yeah, he finds it to be the most practical type of present and I am not going to disagree with him on that, I get where he’s coming from.”
You nodded in silent agreement as the employee finished wrapping up the voucher, handing it to Crowe, who gave him the required amount of cash in exchange, before bidding goodbye and putting the envelope containing the voucher into one of the bags you were carrying.
“What time is it?”
Crowe took a look at the watch on his wrist, “1 pm. The party starts at 4.30, therefore we still have some time to get everything ready.”
Your boyfriend gave your hand a small squeeze and smiled warmly at you. This was almost enough to make you forget about the crisp cold air surrounding you, emphasis on almost. You were walking at a faster pace than usually, desperate to get home as quickly as possible.
Luckily, you soon saw the row houses on your street, one of them being the one you and Crowe resided in. The two of you moved in together after a year of dating, deeming it safer for the both of you - well, mostly for you. He insisted that you move into the townhouse he rented with him, considering it a safer option than the apartment you previously called your home. Of course, he was right, this part of town was much safer and if something were to happen, he would be there to protect you.
The houses were made of brownstone and not much bigger than your old apartment, though it was still nice to have a bit more space available, not to mention the tiny garden at the back - something your previous home lacked entirely.
Speed-walking towards the dark green front door, you ushered Crowe to unlock the door, who chuckled in response to your antics. What may have been annoying to anyone else, he found endearing. To him, you could hardly do any wrong, you were perfect, perfect for him.
You were greeted by the familiar smell of your home and the comforting warmth it provided. Taking off your boots and coat you turned to face Crowe, “Ready to bake some cookies?”
The kitchen was small, but it was big enough for the two of you. The counter, made of ebony and an oak countertop, formed a U-shape, lining all walls except for the one with the door. A big window overlooking the garden was above the kitchen sink and opposite of the door. Some potted plants hung from the ceiling, giving the room a rural feeling.
You walked to the kitchen cabinet and whipped out every required ingredient and equipment.
“Did you decide on which type of cookies we are baking?” Crowe entered the kitchen, rolling up the sleeves of his sweater, revealing his toned lower arms.
“I was thinking we could bake some good old chocolate chip cookies, how does that sound?”
Crowe cracked a grin at that. Chocolate chips were his favourite and you knew that all too well.
“I’m definitely not opposed to that suggestion.”
You playfully rolled your eyes at him, “Of course you are not.”
You ordered Crowe to weigh the ingredients while you took care of mixing everything, the dough soon being finished. The moment you turned your back to grab a scissor for the package of chocolate chunks, Crowe grabbed a spoon from the kitchen drawer and tried some of the cookie dough.
“No snacking on the cookie dough, Crowe.”, you turned around to find your boyfriend frowning at you, causing a little laugh of yours to break free.
“Mind you, I was taste-testing.”
You shook your head at his answer, but at the same time you were endeared. Crowe was usually this composed, mature gentleman, but around you he could unleash a more childish side of him, one he didn’t show anyone else. Coming from him, this was a huge sign of trust, a privilege he didn't grant just anyone.
Right after you mixed the chocolate chunks into the cookie dough, you took small scoops and placed them onto the tray Crowe got ready for you. Once you were finished with placing small piles of dough, your boyfriend took the tray from you and put it in the oven.
“Now that the cookies are in the oven, what should we do in the meantime? Wrap the presents?” Crowe asked while wiping the surface of the countertop with a wet cloth. You pondered for a moment, recalling the children you saw on your way to the mall and pointed towards the window overlooking the garden
“I have a better idea… See all that snow? How about we build a snowman?”
Looking at him, your eyes glistened with hope and he smiled brightly at you, an indescribable amount of love in his gaze.
You definitely were perfect for him.
“Of course we can, Love, but weren’t you the one freezing outside earlier today?”
He just couldn’t help but tease you a little every now and then.
“That was different. I can handle the coldness if it means I get to feel like a kid again.”, you argued, a lop-sided smile gracing your features.
“Touché.”
With a pep in your step you went back into the hallway to grab both of your boots and coats, along with a pair of gloves for each of you. You swiftly returned to the kitchen and walked through the doorway into the living room, straight towards the back door, handing Crowe his clothes, before putting on your own coat and boots.
No five minutes later were the two of you out in the freezing cold. You already got to work, making a little snowball and rolling it around on the ground, your gloves doing very little to keep the snow’s iciness away from your skin, though you couldn’t care less right now.
The garden was small, surrounded by high bushes, which were painted white by the snow just like the ground was. The big apple tree at the very back already lost all its leaves weeks ago and the flowers you usually kept were long gone.
Crowe joined you, rolling his own snowball on the ground and turning to you for a moment, “I take it that you want to be in charge of the big snowball at the bottom?”
Looking over at him with a smile you nod eagerly, earning you his warm signature smile in return.
The two of you kept rolling the snowballs around, which were getting bigger and bigger by the minute, until they finally had a size you were satisfied with. Crowe placed his slightly smaller snowball on your bigger one, going off to find some sticks to use as arms right after while you were busy making the head. Once you were finished and placed the third and smallest snowball on top of the other two, Crowe returned with some sticks and a couple of small rocks.
Handing you the two biggest sticks, you took them and placed one on either side of the snowmans upper body and some smaller branches on the top of his head. You took three small stones out of Crowe’s palm and placed them in a vertical row on the snowman's upper body.
“By the way, do we have a carrot laying around?”
“I think so… let me take a look.” Crowe handed you the rocks and turned around, walking back inside. In the meantime, you took two rocks and placed them where you thought the snowman's eyes might be and used the leftover stones to give the snowman a smile. Crowe eventually returned, a carrot in his hand. “There you go, finish the job.”
You side-eyed him, processing his words, “You’re saying this as if I’m assassinating this poor snowman…”
Your boyfriend chuckled in response as you added the final detail to your snowman.
Suddenly, an alarm went off.
“Ah! The cookies are ready. Just in time…” Crowe turned off the alarm on his phone and took your hand in his as the two of you made your way back inside.
Once back in the kitchen, the two of you took off your boots, coats and gloves. Crowe took out the tray with cookies while you carried the clothes back into the hallway, hanging the coats back on their hangers, placing the boots on the mat next to the front door and the gloves back into the dresser.
The smell of fresh cookies invaded your nostrils and you could feel your mouth watering, causing you to swiftly return to the kitchen.
“It smells so good in here!” You entered the kitchen, causing Crowe to turn away from you quickly, making you stop in your tracks, “Wait… are you eating one of the cookies?”
“...No…” Crowe was trying his best to not sound like he was talking with a full mouth, but failed miserably.
“You are!” You could hear Crowe swallowing before turning back to face you, trying to defend himself, “I had to do a taste test…”
You take one cookie from the tray, studying it a little. Judging by the looks of it, those cookies turned out amazing.
“Firstly, you already did one with the raw cookie dough and secondly, I highly doubt that one was necessary…Though, I might do one as well. You know, two tongues can taste more than one, or something like that.” Putting the cookie in your mouth, you can almost hear your taste buds singing Hallelujah, your eyes widening as you let the warm, sweet taste of chocolate chip melt on your tongue.
“Oh my…these cookies are perfect!”
Crowe nodded in agreement with a grin on his face as he watched your fond expression, before looking at his watch, “It’s 2.20 pm, we have about two hours until the party, any ideas what should we do until then?”
You thought for a moment before a smug smirk crawled onto your face.
“Don’t tell me-”
You cut off your boyfriend, “Let’s watch a Christmas movie!”
“We still need to wrap the presents, my Love” , Crowe pointed out, but you quickly shot down his argument.
“We can do that while watching the movie. It’s not like we have tons of presents to wrap anyways.”
Crowe sighed deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose, though more in a playful fashion, before nodding slowly.
“Alright, let’s watch a Christmas movie then.”
You immediately made your way towards the living room, the walls were painted a light blue shade and lined with tons of shelves, the floor was birch wood, just like the hallway. Sitting down on the soft, dark blue couch and grabbing the remote, you made yourself comfortable, nuzzling against one of the couch’s cushions. While you were busy picking out a movie, Crowe grabbed some wrapping paper, as well as the presents for your friends, and carried them towards the living room, setting everything down on the oak coffee table in front of the couch.
He sat down next to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer as you put on your favorite christmas movie. You shuffled closer to him, basking in the warmth Crowe radiated, not just emotionally but also physically. No matter how tough times might get, next to him any problem ceased to exist, if only for the moment and you could swear your love for him was growing more and more the longer you were together.
Leaning your head on his shoulder, you couldn’t help but feel giddy for tonight, looking forward to spending time with all the people who grew on you so much during your years at university.
Were you to look out the window, you’d catch the snowman smiling at you, the snow which was currently falling from the sky accumulating on his carrot nose.
Everything was perfect, you were exactly where you were always meant to be and you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.
#tkatb vn#the kid at the back vn#tkatb#yandere visual novel#yandere vn#the kid at the back#jericho ichabod#jericho#crowe ichabod#crowe#tkatb crowe#tkatb x reader#crowe x reader#jericho ichabod x reader#the kid at the back x reader#the kid at the back crowe
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That photo u reposted of a grumpy werewolf in a Christmas sweater reminds me of Ceaser, the mean jock werewolf u used to write ab. Low-key miss him and I'm imagining him being reeeaallly bad on Christmas. I'm talking stuffing you full before meeting the family and making you keep it in you with a candy cane themed plug he got for you- saying shit like "Better start now so that next Christmas there's three of us coming to this gathering.". (I'm imagining him doing this after they get married hehe)
Jealous, mean Ceaser who decides to fuck Ur ass in the bathroom as well because you had the gall to like someone else's gift more than the one he got for you. How fucking ungrateful can you be? Brings an extra plug just so u have a reminder of who you belong to and how you're meant to act. And man- FUCK your vampire cousin. That snotty shit can't go one minute the whole dinner without bragging about how great it is being a vampire whilst making digs at werewolves (he's only been a vampire for almost a month). Not to mention the judgemental stink eyes your cousin stares at you.
You have to drag Ceaser to another room and try calm him down by maybe sucking his dick or atleast comforting him with kisses and small nips on his collarbone as you tug his sweater down. Gotta remind him that you chose him and he chose you- fuck whatever your cousin says, he only became a vampire because he went on a spiritual journey in the woods when really he was just manipulated into a cult.
You and Ceaser, who leave the party early because turns out those plugs weren't just for keeping stuff in. He's such a fucking cunt for teasing you and you can barely make it to the car without stumbling a bit. Blame it on the eggnog. As soon as you get in that car he turns it up to 100 and you cum so hard it actually brings tears to your eyes.
You who, when you get home, act all pouty and stuff because he made you cry on Christmas. Just because of that bratty attitude he only fucks your throat for a whole 12 days just to teach you a lesson because he is a fucking asshole.
Hehe. I miss this wolfie <3
i still write about Ceasar in theory i am just Depressed and can't find the motivation to write really.
Anyway, this was a lovely little image. Ceasar making your Christmas memorable by knocking you up <3 fucking you even harder if you complain about it.
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memory trouble
i wrote this for @whydoilovesomanyvillains for the @rivalsduogiftexchange! i really hope you enjoy it!
“Alright, what’s actually in the book, Dream?”
The book, with its slightly charred corner and worn pages, was sitting on the floor next to Dream and when Techno spoke, he put his hand on it. His fingers trailed across the scratched and water-damaged leather for a moment before looking up at Techno. He shrugged. The orange jumpsuit looked like a tent on him as it slipped on his shoulders.
“I-I already told you,” he said, scarred mouth twisting into a frown. He had. “What, you don’t believe me?”
Techno wasn’t sure if he believed Dream. What Dream had said was in the book – quick notes about things he didn’t want to forget – made sense and he had no reason not to trust Dream. Out of all the people on the server, it was Dream that had never betrayed him. But suspicion came easily here, even if Techno didn’t like it. He waved a hand and shifted where he sat, the hard obsidian digging into his rump.
“Look, it’s not that I don’t believe you—” Dream huffed and rolled his eyes. “No, look, it’s just that I’m havin’ trouble believin’ I said anything that important, man.”
That was a half-truth. Information was valuable. What he had trouble believing was the paranoid, little voice in the back of his mind that Dream was looking for leverage. If that was the case, it was poor leverage in an even worse situation. It made no sense and yet he couldn’t fully shake the thought. Dream placed his palm flat on the cover of the book and then slid it across the floor of the cell towards Techno.
“Whatever. You can read it,” he said then settled back against the wall, thin arms crossed over his chest.
A twinge of guilt hit Techno. It was the outcome he had wanted, to have his curiosity sated and put to ease that suspicion he didn’t like bouncing around in his head. He picked the book up and almost tossed it back to Dream but he flipped it open.
“Honestly, it gets so borin’ in here that readin’ your fanfic sounds like a great idea,” said Techno as he turned the pages, glancing up at Dream. The eye roll and noise of frustration was predictable.
“I didn’t—I didn’t write fanfic, okay? I told you what I wrote. You’re just an idiot who doesn’t believe me.”
Techno frowned a little because he knew Dream was right. Even before found the two pages that had shaky, barely legible writing on them he had known Dream was telling the truth.
“Bruh.” He stretched out one of his legs with a groan. It was impossible to sit in a way that didn’t cause aches and pains after longer than a handful of minutes. “Y’know, I was really lookin’ forward to havin’ something to read.”
Dream snorted.
“Yeah, well, too bad. I wasn’t lying.”
The pages under Techno’s fingers felt stiff in the way paper did after it had gotten wet and then dried. On one, Dream had wrote ‘your polar bear is named Steve’, exactly like he had said he’d done. On the other page, he had written ‘Techno admitted I have a house’. His priorities were strangely endearing and Techno smiled.
“I know, Dream, I know,” he said, voice soft. He looked down at the book again. “But really, man? You needed to write this down?”
Dream shrugged again. He had barely moved all day. The almost frantic energy he had displayed when Techno first arrived, despite the condition he was in, had gone.
“Well, to be fair, I—I keep forgetting things, so.”
It was an answer to a different question than the one Techno had asked. He had wanted to know why those things were important enough to Dream to warrant being certain he wouldn’t forget. The thought to explain that to Dream crossed Techno’s mind. He looked at Dream for a moment. The jumpsuit he wore was stained reddish brown in enough places that seemed to be the original color. Bruises that were a vivid purple when Techno got here had faded to yellow. When he wasn’t speaking, an unfocused look was often present on Dream’s face. Techno got to his feet and shook his limbs out before sitting down in front of Dream. He pulled one leg under him and stretched the other out beside Dream. His hoof hit the wall.
“W-what are you doing?” Dream asked, leaning back as far as he could until his head hit the wall.
The suspicion hurt. Techno understood it – he had his own – but it still stung a little and the sudden urge to make up for pushing Dream to let him read the book hit him. Techno started to crack his knuckles and stopped when he noticed the way Dream was watching, how tightly his mouth was pressed shut. Techno lifted his hands, palms facing Dream.
“Easy, man. You said you’re havin’ trouble rememberin’ things, right? I just want to see if you’ve got a concussion or something.”
The suspicion on Dream’s face wavered and then dissipated. He straightened.
“I’m fine. It’s—Why do you care anyway?”
Techno winced; that hurt more than the suspicion did.
“I care, Dream, I care. I should’ve checked sooner,” he said, the words an apology. He should have. He wanted to explain why he hadn’t, that he had been prepared for a trap, for something to be off after Quackity crashing his birthday party, but he hadn’t expected this. There was something deeply cruel about what had been done in this cell and Techno didn’t know how to handle it. So he hadn’t.
Dream nodded after a moment. The curve of his smile was wry.
“Yeah, alright.”
The touch was gentle, frustratingly so.
Techno placed his hands on either side of Dream’s head, working his fingers through the matted strands, and Dream expected a joke about how badly he needed to wash and brush his hair but none came. The expression on Techno’s face remained serious, squinting over the rim of his smudged glasses. Dream wanted to tell him that there was no reason to do this. After Quackity’s last visit, Sam had given him a healing potion and a clean jumpsuit. Whatever signs from the blows rained on him or the times his head had met the obsidian floor had long since healed and beyond the scars and missing finger, no one would know.
“Hmm.”
Techno’s fingers pressed against the back of Dream’s head, almost massaging, and his face became even more serious. He flicked his eyes down towards Dream and the vaguely guilty look Dream had noted earlier, taking a bit of satisfaction in, was back.
“I mean, ha ha, I definitely know what I’m lookin’ for,” said Techno, close enough to Dream that his breath was warm on his skin.
That didn’t inspire confidence. Dream snorted quietly.
“There’s—You’re not going to find anything, Techno,” he said.
For a moment, Techno’s hands stilled and Dream thought he would give up. That was what he wanted, to get rid of the soft, worried touch, but he felt a sudden pang of regret. It was stupid, the desire to have someone be gentle or acknowledge what had been done to him and it made him feel weak and pathetic. Techno smoothed his hands against Dream’s head, fingers still probing.
“No harm in checkin’, man.”
Dream rolled his eyes but it was forced, habit because Techno was waiting for it and shook his head with a grin when he did. It was the most normal Dream had felt in months. Techno ran his hand over the top of Dream’s head then pat him lightly before leaning back. His leg pressed into Dream’s side.
“Yeah but you didn’t find anything. Like I said you wouldn’t,” Dream pointed out.
Waving a hand, Techno nudged Dream with his knee.
“Semantics, Dream, semantics.”
“That’s not what—”
Techno cut him off, holding a finger in front of his face.
“Do me a favor and follow my finger,” he said as he moved his finger slowly back and forth.
Without moving his head, Dream followed Techno’s finger, the argument forgotten. The frown on Techno’s face seemed grave.
“Hm, interestin’.”
A jolt of panic hit Dream though it was tinged with skepticism because he knew Techno. He still lifted his own hand as if to recreate the test.
“What! What’s wrong?”
Techno laughed. The smile on his face was wide.
“Nothing, Dream. I just wanted to see if you’d do it.”
It should have annoyed him but for some reason Dream found he was struggling to hold his own grin back. He smacked Techno’s leg twice in rapid succession.
“Oh my god! What—What is wrong with you!”
Still laughing, Techno tugged his cloak off and shook it out a bit. A cloud of dust and dog hair exploded from it, lingering in the air. Dream wrinkled his nose. It smelled of wet animal and mud but that was better than faint smell of blood and sweat that clung to the cell.
“Listen, the look on your face was totally worth it,” said Techno, moving from his spot in front of Dream to one next to him, back against the wall of the cell.
Dream watched him, trying to force the amusement off his face, not wanting to give Techno the satisfaction. It was a fruitless endeavor and he didn’t actually mind.
“You—You’re such an idiot,” he said.
“Whatever you say, Dream.” Taking the cloak, Techno spread it over both of their laps, carefully tucking it in around Dream. His smile was soft and when he was finished, he put his hand over Dream’s and squeezed. "Whatever you say."
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27. 12. Michael - Time to relax (18+)
༺☆༻
⟡ Masterlist ⟡
⋆꙳·❅‧The Yule festival of Hell 2‧❆ ₊⋆
A/N: Oh hey, we made it! It's the last day and what a fun it was ^^ I really enjoyed discovering writing for "new" characters! Hope you guys survived the holiday season safely :D
‧₊˚✧ 18+ Minors Do Not Interact ✧˚₊‧
༺☆༻
“Ugh, I'm so fed up with them... I should execute them all!” Michael sits down in his armchair with a thud and dramatically props up his forehead in one of his hands. For the past week, the lower demons have been apparently causing nothing but trouble and the executioner seraphim was usually the one to have to deal with the fallout of the situations.
“Aw, what did they do this time?” you look up from your book, laying on his bed. It was rare to see him in such state, but in the past week it's happened so often, that you'd gotten used to it.
“Argh! Those sheep fully messed up the recipe for the grand dinner and somehow managed to open a portal to Hell in the process!” Michael quickly raises his head and directs his angry, piercing gaze at you. You think nothing of it, because you know it's not actually meant for you.
“Oh, but you've dealt with it and nothing bad happened, no?” closing your book, you get up to walk over to the seraphim while trying to calm him with your words.
“Yeah, but I wasn't even the first Seraphim to be there! When I got there, Raphael was already there and egging them on to actually open it!” Michael's fist comes down to slam into the armrest and his other grips onto the upholstering so strongly, his nails leave scratch marks in the cream fake leather.
“Aw, that sounds rough...” you sigh, now standing behind the seraphim and comb your fingers though his silk hair, knowing he enjoys it.
Michael only growls in response, but leans into your touch. The wing growing out of his neck slightly twitches as you hit a knot in his locks.
“Well somebody's a little tense... Would massage make you feel better, Mich?” you almost whisper as you move his long ebony hair out of the way.
“Nngh... Please...” he grunts and readjusts in his seat, seemingly letting go of all his previous anger.
His muscles are very hard to touch, but soon enough your expert hands manage to relax them as well as the angel himself. You know this is not the time to be thinking such things, but the way Michael reacts to your every touch and sighs in appreciation, you can't help but start to feel a bit heated.
“Hmm, how do you feel now? Still angry?” you hum, more to yourself, but the seraphim still picks up on it.
“Uh... Hm, yes! I'll make them suffer once I finish here.” the relaxed expression on his beautiful face is quickly back to angry one, albeit less than before.
“Oh? Well... I might actually have a way to relax you even more then...” the accidental double-meaning of his words spark your attention and fully make you give in to the thoughts popping up in your mind.
Slowly circling the armchair with the angel in it, you come to stand above him between his slightly spread legs. With a gentle hand you cup his cheek and affectionately run your thumb over it, “Would you be interested, Mikey?”
A slight blush appears on the seraphim's cheeks at the nickname and he mutters:” I told you to not call me that... But sure... Do your best...”
And with that you sweetly chuckle and lean down to kiss his soft lips before starting to lower yourself down onto your knees. Michael catches up to your actions fast and his eyes widen in shock of your sudden boldness.
To him, it was rare to see you on your knees even for a prayer let alone for him. Perhaps it's the season of miracles after all?
Michael's pants are really easy to undo, which you've come to find out firsthand over the year or so that you've known him, making it really easy to get to what hides underneath.
You don't take him out right away, but rather choose to tease him over the white fabric until you see a wet spot forming on his thigh. The material of his pants is so nice to touch, you don't fear getting a fabric burn from running up and down his very long half-hard dick. The fabric is so soft you can't help but nuzzle your face into his clothed thigh, making his cock twitch at the sensation of your face and the pants rubbing against his sensitive skin.
“Haa~... Y-Y/N!” the seraphim mewls out as your fingers circle the tip of his erection, making the wet spot spread further.
“How about this? Feeling better now?” you can't help but smile while teasing further.
“Nngh... M-more...N-need more...” his blue eye is clouded over with lust and the blush on his cheeks is as obvious as ever.
You hum in response and finally pull his heated cock from his pant leg, marvelling at how pretty it is. The flushed tip proudly twitches in your hands as you slowly blow cold air on it. The sound of ripping leather reaches your ears, telling you how much is Michael holding back.
Deciding that you've teased him long enough, you finally lean in and start gently sucking his tip, going as far as you can go without gagging. Your hands start stroking the rest of his length, that you have no chance of fully taking in without dying in the process of some serious throat training.
“H-nnngh~!” the seraphim lets out a loud moan as his eyes roll into the back of his head. His thighs flex and relax on each side of your head from how much he has to hold himself back from instinctively starting to to thrust into your mouth.
Only a few minutes in, when you look up at the angel, you can see from the furrow of his brow that he's getting dangerously close. To his credit, it has been a while since you two had the time for yourselves with how busy the celebration preparations made you.
“Nyaah~! Y/N! Y/N! Y/N!” Michael chants your name as if it's a prayer while he finally finishes into your mouth and accidentally also on your chest a bit.
“Hm... How are you feeling now? Still in the mood to decapitate some angels and a seraphim?” you swallow all the last remains of his cum in your mouth and cheekily ask.
“Hah... Ugh! Like I said: I'll finish up in here and get to it.” the anger is back as Michael attempts to catch his breath.
You can't help but sigh. And you really thought you sucked him silly this time. Oh well, there's always the next time.
༺☆༻
But wait, this angel also has a gift for you!
"My brothers are laughable to think that I'd allow anything get close to you. Here, take this wand enchanted with the power to command my angel units."
#what in hell is bad#what in “hell” is bad?#the yule festival of hell 2#the yule festival of hell#whb michael#whb smut
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Can you do one with ren and a reader who has really bad back pain.
Thank you so much for your request!! I decided to write something a bit more "silly". I hope it's still to your liking!
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You've been having immense pain in your back for a few weeks now. You tried your best to hide it from Ren, but he quickly caught on when he watched you try to pick up a book you dropped while suppressing your groans. He tried to offer you his help, but you quickly told him to back off, too scared that he'll make it hurt more than it already does. So, one day he decided to take matters into his own hands.
"H-Hold on! Let's talk about this!" You yelped, darting behind the kitchen counter and clutching your hand close to your chest. Ren's eyes narrowed in determination as he tried to catch up with you. "Come on! I'm just trying to help you! Why are you being so difficult?"
"Oh, I wonder why!"
He huffed, but your defence didn't falter He's been chasing you for almost an hour now; you weren't sure if this was another sick game of his or if he actually wanted to help you. Before you could think any further, Ren quickly caught up to you, now standing on the opposite side of the counter.
"Go away! I'm not letting you break my back!" You exclaim, taking a step back. "I will not break your back, trust me, I saw this online. It's foolproof!" He shot you a toothy grin as he held out his phone and pointed at it with his free finger. Your heart sank.
"That doesn't sound promising..." You whispered as your gaze shifted around nervously taking another step back. Letting out an annoying huff, he leapt onto the counter like a cat pouncing on prey.
You let out a shriek and bolted, but it was too late. Before you could take another step forward, he tackled you down, making you both land awkwardly on the floor. "Gotcha!"
You both let out painful groans. Ren shifted his position on your lower back letting out a chuckle.
Now, sitting on you, he took a good look at you. "You really had to make things more difficult, huh?" He exclaimed out of breath. "Well, it doesn't matter now." He gently pressed his palms against your back. You were about to protest before he shushed you "Calm your horses! Just relax and enjoy this".
Putting his phone next to him on the ground, he carefully followed the instructions. His palms glided over the knots in your back, alternating between gentle pressure and firm kneading. His ear twitched when you let out a content sigh. Pressing your face against the cold kitchen floor, you completely relaxed against his touch. "How are you so good at this?" You asked, your voice quiet and soft to which he let out a chuckle. "I guess I'm a natural." Smiling softly at his comment, you closed your eyes as you felt the pain slowly fade away.
#boyfriend to death 2#ren hana x reader#btd ren hana x reader#btd ren#btd ren hana#btd2 ren hana#btd ren x reader
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Is There Anything so Undoing as a Daughter?
So, I just finished watching Arcane a bit back and I absolutely love the dynamic between Silco and Jinx and was kinda disappointed we didn’t get to see any flashbacks of them in s2.
They didn’t have the healthiest of dynamics but I still found it so interesting and gratifying to see that Silco really did care and love Jinx even if his actions weren’t always the best for her.
So, I decided to write a bunch of little moments of theirs over the years, how they became father and daughter, how Powder became Jinx, how Silco’s goons survived Jinx’s menace behavior and more!
some are more funny some more heartfelt some more tragic
I’ll include on this post what is up until now my fave chapter and the link to the story on AO3
The Bomb Thing
(How Jinx finally learned to build bombs and instantly became the goons greatest fear. Sevika doesn’t get paid enough for this)
It’d been a slow day, running errands and checking up on everything, Jinx coming along, not really paying attention, her focus on some kind of gadget she was working on.
Since taking on the name ‘Jinx’, the girl seemed just the tiniest bit more comfortable, taking fewer naps and starting to tinker around instead of just spending her days drawing.
As they were on their way back to the Last Drop, Jinx suddenly stopped, winding the metal monkey she’d been working on and setting it down at the entrance of an empty alley, going to lean against the building next to it, waiting.
Silco said nothing, simply raising an amused eyebrow.
After ten seconds of suspenseful silence, Jinx groaned in frustration, kicking at the gravel beneath her before going to retrieve the monkey, “It didn’t work!”
“What are you trying to do?” He questioned as she joined him once more, falling into step with him.
“I’m trying to make it blow up! But it just won’t! It’s always the same, they never work. The only one that worked was-” she cut herself off for a second, her head jerking as she no doubt was remembering the warehouse explosion, “and I can’t even take credit for that because it really was those dumb blue sphere thingies!”
HexTech. It’d been HexTech.
Silco hummed, considering, “Why do you want to build bombs?”
Jinx shrugged, “It’s fun.”
Well that was an unusual hobby for a child to have. But this was Zaun, he wouldn’t concern himself over Jinx apparently enjoying trying to build explosives, he was more concerned about what would happen if it actually worked and she didn’t know what to do.
“Do you want to learn?”
Jinx tilted her head, “I mean… I kinda wanna figure it out by myself but… I don’t know I’m getting kinda impatient.”
Once they reached The Last Drop, he knew what to do, seeing Sevika standing at the bar, he approached, “Sevika, fetch me Cerys, tell him I have a job for him.”
Sevika gave a glance to Jinx, who was still fidgeting with the monkey-bomb. She raised a single eyebrow, “You sure you wanna mess with that boss?”
“Just go.”
Sevika sighed heavily as she pushed herself away from the bar, going to head downtown, muttering something about ‘bad idea’.
An hour later, there was a knock at his office door and Cerys, one of the most prolific ‘demolition’ experts in the undercity came sauntering in, grinning as he went to sit down, leaning back on the chair.
“Evening boss, Sevika tells me you got a job for me?
“It’s a special job, one I expect you to carry out carefully and with upmost discretion.”
Cerys laughed, “Sorry boss but ‘careful’ and ‘discretion’ aren’t exactly my strong suits.”
Silco said nothing, starring him down.
He quickly stopped laughing, clearing his throat, “So, what’s the job?”
Silco took a moment to inspect the man, enjoying the way he started squirming under his gaze before turning, “Jinx, come here please.”
Jinx looked up from her gadget, going to stand next to him, Cerys’s eyes widening, having not noticed the kid before.
“This is Jinx, as you can see she has a certain passion for explosives. You will teach her the basics. Basics only, she can figure out the rest by herself.”
Jinx straightened up at the words, excitement shimmering in her eyes.
Cerys burst out laughing, “Alright alright- I’d heard you had a kid but that’s-” his laughter slowly died down as he realized there was no punchline coming, “You’re actually serious?”
Silco scowled as he starred the bulkier man down.
Cerys awkwardly cleared his throat, “Uh- okay uh- kid can I take a look at that?”
Jinx handed over the monkey-bomb with no resistance, Cerys quickly inspecting the gadget, “Alright uh… this is not bad for a beginner, not bad at all, you could probably crack it on your own eventually. Uh… how old are you?”
“Eleven.”
Cerys looked up at Silco, eyes pleading.
Silco continued to stare him down.
Cerys cleared his throat yet again as he returned the monkey-bomb, “Well alright then uh- we can head down to my workshop-”
“You’ll teach her here.”
“I can go get my stuff and I’ll teach you… an eleven year old kid… the basics… on how to build bombs…” he gave one last valiant attempt as Jinx cheered, excitedly going to gather her designs, “Are you sure?”
“Cerys. Do what I ask of you, and let me handle the repercussions of it.” Silco said with finality.
Cerys sighed, defeated before going to stand up, “Right now?”
“It can wait until tomorrow.”
“…see you tomorrow boss.”
Silco told himself that it was a strategic move, if Jinx started learning now how to make bombs, it might prove beneficial in the future.
It had nothing to do with how excited the little girl got as she started twirling around the room, the happiest he’d ever seen her.
***
Cerys slowly left Silco’s office, heading down the stairs and leaning against the doorframe, where Sevika was waiting.
“You didn’t warn me… why didn’t you warn me?”
Sevika snorted cruelly, “Where would the fun be in that?”
Cerys ran a hand through his hair, “I’d heard the rumors that he had a kid but…”
“Kid’s gonna be a fucking menace, mark my words.” Sevika said as she rolled her eyes, “And to add insult to injury… she’s got Silco wrapped around her little finger.”
“Little fingers that will soon be handling bombs… I’m fucked if that kid gets hurt aren’t I?”
“Yup.”
“What if she blows herself up?”
“No amount of money will save you from Silco’s wrath.”
“Not helping!”
***
Jinx was practically bouncing off the walls in excitement as she listened to Cerys’s explanations and as he showed her what she’d been doing wrong.
She made it clear that she only wanted to be taught the basics, things like more complex timers she wanted to figure out by herself. She knew she’d be able to do it.
Cerys seemed nervous about her ‘out-of-pocket’ ideas but was a good teacher, he clearly knew what he was talking about.
Jinx soaked it all in, ignoring the whispers in her ears trying to remind her of what had happened the first and only time one of her bombs had worked, pretending not to see Mylo’s shadow standing in the corner of the room.
After two days of lessons, Cerys let her set a small bomb off in an empty alleyway, Jinx screeching in victory when it went off.
Days later, she told Silco to wait on the stairway, getting him to hide with her as she allowed one of her mousers to roll out, to where Sevika and a few guards were.
Silco tensed up, going to move before-
“BOMB!” Sevika screamed, the bomb going off and-
Covering everyone in glitter and blue paint, Jinx cackling at the guards stunned expressions. Sevika looked like she was about to pop a blood vessel, making her laugh even harder.
Silco just sighed, containing a proud smile as he strolled out like nothing had happened, “You should be more aware of your surroundings.” He scolded the guards, Jinx going to hop up on the bar as Silco went to get himself a drink and her some juice, unbothered by the glitter covering the bar, after all, they had a few hours until it was time to open the Last Drop, “Get someone to clean up.”
Sevika took a deep breath, promising herself she’d give Cerys a good punch the next time she saw him. She knew it, fucking blue menace.
#arcane#arcane silco#silco#silco and jinx#jinx#jinx arcane#sevika#sevika arcane#most chaotic father and daughter#Jinx is a menace#Silco did not plan to be a girl dad but he did his best#Most of the time
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o, christmas tree [g.t.]
Part Two of 𝑨 𝑻𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒎𝒂𝒏–𝑳𝒆𝒘𝒊𝒔 𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑖 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠
Gator Tillman ✗ Win Lewis
➼ w.c. 2.9k ➼ warnings/tags. hurt/comfort, fluff, mention of roy, spiders ➼ a/n. This series takes place about a year after the events of Don’t Waste Your Time (on Me), and while technically the main series is still being written, I wanted to take a small break to write some fluff for Win and Gator for Christmas. ➼ divider credits. truck divider @/strangergraphics, bottom divider @/saradika
Gator finds out Win’s never had a real tree before, and inspired by fond memories of cutting down a yearly Christmas tree with his father, gone sour, he decides to take Win to pick one, wanting to replace his old memories with new.
Win flipped the glossy page of the catalogue in her hand as Gator walked into the living room, shoving another cookie into his mouth.
“If you keep eating them at that rate, there’s not gunna be any left by Christmas,” she chastised, glancing up at him over the top of the catalogue as he flopped down next to her and she lifted her stockinged feet to rest in his lap.
“I can’t help it, they’re so fuckin’ good,” Gator groaned around his mouthful of cookie before dusting the crumbs from his chest. “Dealing with your dad was definitely worth it,” he murmured and Win smiled softly, still touched by the gesture.
“We should think about putting up a tree soon. There’s some nice ones on sale,” she mused, glancing back down at the catalogue.
“What, already? It’s a bit early for that,” Gator scoffed and Win frowned, her head snapping back up.
“What do you mean too early? When I was a kid we’d have it up the day after Thanksgiving,” she snorted.
“If we get one now, it’ll be dead before Christmas,” Gator exclaimed, as if it were obvious.
“Ohhhh,” Win breathed, dropping the catalogue to her stomach and pushing herself up. “You’re talking about a real tree.”
“Yeah duh,” Gator huffed in amusement, until a thought occurred to him. “Wait, have you never had a real Christmas tree before?” he asked in disbelief and Win shook her head.
“No, only fake ones.”
“I’ve only ever had real Christmas trees,” he murmured, a far away look crossing his face. “My dad would always take me with him to—“ he cut off, shaking his head as his lips twisted in distaste.
Win shifted, tucking her legs under herself to crawl closer, pressing into Gator’s side. “It’s okay to miss certain things about him,” she whispered, slipping her hand in his. “You’re allowed to have some good memories.”
Gator frowned, his brows furrowing briefly before he gave a curt nod. Softening, he gave Win’s hand a squeeze. “I’d rather make new memories. With you.”
Win smiled, lifting his hand to press a kiss to the back of it. “Let’s do it.”
A dazed grin tugged at Gator’s lips as his eyes found hers. “You, me, a real tree. It’s on,” he chuckled.
“So what all does picking out a tree entail?” Win asked, matching his grin.
“Well, we gotta drive a ways, and there’ll be a bit of a hike, then the actual cutting down part, and then you have to drag the tree back to the truck—think you can handle that?”
“Psh, can I handle that?” Win scoffed, wrinkling her nose at him. “You of all people should know I’m not afraid to get my hands dirty, Tillman,” she teased.
Gator laughed, holding his hands up. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Oh my God, why is it so far?” Win exclaimed, already starting to shiver as the icy wind whipped past them, cutting through her fleece lined leggings.
“Hey, I warned you, remember?” Gator retorted, pulling his boot from the ankle deep snow only to sink through the light crust that capped the wet powder with his next step. The cold was starting to bother his bad leg, but he wasn’t about to tell Win that, not after giving her a hard time about her own complaints. Plus the last thing he wanted was to worry her.
“Yeah, yeah, you did,” Win huffed, her breath misting in the air before dissipating, swept away by the wind that stung her face despite the thick scarf wound round her neck. “Couldn’t we have just gone to a tree farm, though? Or picked a different day,” she grumbled, huddling closer to Gator’s side as they hiked across the field toward a small grove of snow dusted fir trees.
“I thought you wanted the whole experience,” Gator pointed out, a wry grin stretching his chilled lips.
“I do,” Win whined, throwing him a pout. “I just wish this wind would die down, it’s blowing right through me.”
Gator sobered, wrapping an arm around Win’s shoulder for a little warmth, wincing slightly at the insistent ache in his leg.
“Yeah, me too,” he agreed through gritted teeth. “Once we hit that treeline, it should get better,” he said. “Not far now.”
Yeah, but then we still have to make the hike back, Win thought, though she didn’t voice it.
Surely enough, once they entered the cluster of trees, the thick branches buffered them from the wind and Gator let out a sigh of relief.
“Told ya,” he quipped and Win gave him a playful shove.
“Now what? We just pick one?” she asked, raising her eyes toward the tops of the trees, trying to measure them by eye.
“Pretty much, yeah,” Gator said, unzipping his backpack to retrieve the tape measure.
“You measured the spot by the front window before we left, right?” Win questioned and Gator gave her a flat look.
“Course I did. I know what I’m doin’, Winnie. I’m the expert here, remember?” he scoffed.
“Alright mister expert, I was just checking,” she laughed, holding her hands up and he rolled his eyes fondly.
“See any you like?”
Win slowly walked the row in front of them, assessing each tree carefully before finally stopping in front of one that looked promising.
“How about this one?” she asked, reaching out a gloved hand to touch one of the snow dusted branches. “Think it’s small enough to fit in the house?”
Gator extended the yellow measuring tape, circling the tree to measure its height and width. “Yeah, that’s pretty perfect, actually.”
Win beamed, pleased that she’d found their tree so quickly. “Is this part usually so easy?” she asked, helping Gator spread out the tarp next to the tree, the blue plastic bright against the snow.
Gator laughed. “No, not usually,” he admitted. “Sometimes it would take us nearly an hour to find the right tree.”
“Damn, we’d be frozen by then,” Win chuckled, dusting the snow from her gloves. “Now what?”
“Now, I’m gunna need you to hold the tree steady while I saw. Kind of pull it away from me a little to keep it taut and I’ll let you know when I’m through, then I’ll help you get it on the tarp,” he explained, crouching down to get closer to the base of the trunk while Win grasped it higher up, squeezing her eyes shut against the branch pressing to her cheek.
The steady sound of sawing filled the chill air, louder than usual in the silence of the grove and to Win it felt like hours before Gator let out a grunt.
“Okay, I’m through. Hold it steady while I get out from under here.”
The tree gave a jerk as Gator disentangled himself, wobbling precariously for a moment before Win tightened her grip on it, wrapping her arms around the trunk with a shaky “whoa!”, her eyes squeezing shut.
“Shit, careful!” Gator yelped, grabbing the tree to steady it. “You okay?” he asked, peering through the branches at his wife.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” she breathed, finally opening her eyes.
“Before we lower this sucker to the tarp, we should shake the loose needles off so we don’t have as many when we get it in the house,” Gator said, giving the tree a few sharp shakes, a ring of dark green needles falling to the snow below.
“Will a lot of needles fall off? Will our tree go bald?” Win exclaimed in alarm and Gator let out a snort.
“It’s not gunna go bald,” he laughed, shifting his grip to start tipping the tree so the branches wouldn’t break as they set it on its side.
“Don’t you make fun of me, Gator Tillman!” Win cried, amusement seeping into her voice. “This is my first real tree, I don’t know these things!”
“Don’t worry, doll, as long as we keep it well watered, it won’t lose many needles,” he explained, sweetly condescending.
Win stuck her tongue out at him, but bent to grab the edge of the tarp. “I’m excited to get it home and decorate it.”
“Me too,” Gator agreed, taking hold of the other corner of the tarp and beginning to pull. “Gunna put those new camo ornaments on it,” he exclaimed, waiting for Win’s reaction, knowing exactly how she felt about them.
As if on cue, she let out a long suffering groan and glanced at him from the corner of her eye as they headed for the field, the tarp leaving a wide swath of flattened snow in its wake.
“Fine, but they’re not going near the front.”
“Aw c’mon, why not?” Gator exclaimed, a knowing grin tugging his lips, and Win rolled her eyes at him.
“Because they’re ugly as fuck,” she scoffed.
“They’ll blend right in, you won’t even notice ‘em,” he teased, enjoying pressing her buttons further.
Win shot him a wry look, bracing for the wind as they moved past the treeline and back out into the open. They bickered playfully for a while longer as the wind whipped their faces and tugged at the edges of the tarp until Win noticed the pained expression that flashed across her husband’s face.
“Is your leg bothering you?” she asked, definitely clocking the stiff way Gator was moving.
“Just a bit,” he grunted, but Win knew if he was admitting that much, then it was hurting more than just a bit.
“We’re almost there,” she pointed out, mentally measuring the remaining distance to the truck. “Toss me the keys and I’ll get the cab warm while we load the tree.
Gator nodded, pulling his glove off with his teeth so he could reach into his pocket for his key ring, dragging the tarp alone for the last few feet so Win could jog ahead to start the engine. By the time they bailed the tree with twine and got it in the truck bed, they were both thoroughly frozen through and the warm truck was a godsend.
“Oh fuck, that was so cold,” Win breathed, holding her frigid fingers to the vent.
“Gimme your hands,” Gator murmured, enveloping them with his own and blowing on them, slowly working warmth back into them as he shivered. “Maybe next year we’ll just go to a local tree farm,” he relented and Win barked a laugh.
“If I do say so, our tree looks pretty damn good,” Gator announced, planting his hands on his hips as he appreciated his handiwork – the tree all set up and positioned perfectly in the front window.
“It’ll look even better when it's decorated,” Win exclaimed, admiring it for a moment with him. “At least the hard part’s done,” she said, opening the box of lights. “Speak for yourself, decorating it’s the hardest part,” Gator scoffed, peering over her shoulder at the tangle of lights in the box.
“Maybe if you hadn’t just dumped them in the box like this when we took them off last time,” Win huffed, her eyebrows pinching as she picked the strand up, trying to find the plug.
“That wasn’t me,” Gator insisted, holding his hands up, though they did little to fend off Win’s unimpressed glare. “Alright, I’ll help,” he grumbled reluctantly, taking a swing from his bottle of Dew before pulling the lights from her hands.
“Okay, what do we have here–” he murmured, trying to detangle the strand.
“Careful!” Win yelped when he yanked at the cord to pull a section loose, the tiny plastic light bulbs catching on each other.
“Why don’t we just buy new lights?” Gator grunted, but Win shook her head.
“That’s so wasteful. As long as these ones still light, I think we should use them,” she argued, working the end of the strand free and managing to plug it in, all the coloured lights blinking to life in Gator’s hands.
He grumbled something under his breath, but he kept working at the knot, his brows pinching as his tongue peeked out from between his lips in concentration. By the time they’d worked the last of the strand free, Gator had almost been ready to throw in the towel, but Win’s hand on his arm had pulled him from his bubble of frustration, keeping him from giving up.
As she began to carefully gather the lights in a neat loop to start stringing around the tree, he realized she always seemed to have that effect on him. Win was like a soothing balm on an angry rash. No matter how annoyed he could get about something, her presence alone was usually enough to calm him.
“Need some help?” he asked, reaching around the tree to take the lights from her.
“Oh, yeah, thanks—“ Win exclaimed distractedly, letting out a laugh as Gator pulled the strand around the back of the tree and then wrapped it around her like a lasso, pulling her closer.
“You’re gunna get us all tangled again,” she chastised lightly, biting back a grin.
“Eh, there’s worse places to get tangled,” Gator murmured, smirking down at her as he pulled her flush against him, her arms trapped against his chest.
“I s’pose so,” she agreed, lifting her chin to meet his gaze, his dark eyes lidded as they trailed her face, long lashes brushing his cheek with each slow blink, and then his lips were on hers, soft at first until she returned the kiss, a breathless whine catching in her throat as she parted her lips for him, meeting his probing tongue with her own.
“This is gunna take a lot longer if we keep this up,” she teased, nipping at his full bottom lip when he finally pulled back.
“I’m okay with that,” Gator quipped, arching a brow at her before giving a soft yelp when she poked his stomach.
“We can pick this back up where we left off once we’re finished,” Win insisted, her lips curling in amusement at the pout forming on Gator’s lips.
“Alright,” he sighed dramatically, stealing one last peck before releasing her and getting back to work.
“It’ll give you incentive to work fast,” she teased, leaning into the tree to wend the lights around again, handing the bundle to Gator on the far side.
Whatever snarky response he was formulating died on his tongue when Win suddenly yanked her hand from the tree with a shriek, a large black spider crawling up her arm.
“Fuck fuck fuck! GET OFF!” she screeched, frantically shaking the spider from her hand and leaping up onto the couch with a violent shudder as it landed on the ground at Gator’s feet.
“What the fuck!” he yelped, dropping the strand of lights and dancing backward, nearly tripping over the end table in his rush to get away.
“Get it, quick! Before it gets back into the tree! I won’t be able to sleep if I know that thing’s in the house,” Win cried and Gator’s eyes darted to the spider that was already starting to scurry back toward the lowest branches.
Scrambling upright, he lifted his foot to stomp it, only to stop just as Win let out another cry.
“Wait! Don’t kill it!”
“What?! How the fuck am I supposed to get rid of it then?” Gator snapped and Win hastily searched the room for something to trap the spider with, her eyes landing on the empty plastic pitcher they’d used to fill the tree stand with.
“Use this!” she exclaimed, tossing him the pitcher, and letting out a cheer as he dropped it over the spider before it could get any farther.
“Got it!” he cried, letting out a heavy sigh of relief. “You’re safe now, mama,” he drawled, smirking at her as he straightened, trying to act like he hadn’t freaked out at all.
“My hero!” Win laughed, throwing her arms around Gator’s neck as he lifted her from the couch to set her back on the floor. “Thank you for not killing it,” she murmured a little sheepishly, handing him a piece of cardboard to slip under the pitcher to carry the spider outside. “I read this thing a while ago about not wanting someone to kill you just for being small and it stuck with me. Makes me feel guilty for killing bugs now,” she admitted, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she followed him to the door to release the spider.
“You’re such a fuckin’ softie,” he muttered, shaking his head ruefully as he shut the door, hoping the spider wouldn’t find a way to just come back inside.
“As if you’re not,” Win snorted, returning to the living room to pick up where they left off.
“I’m not!” Gator insisted, though his words held little conviction as he trailed behind her.
Once they’d finally finished stringing the lights and getting the decorations on the tree – Win even relented on her threat of keeping Gator’s ornaments out of sight – they stood side by side to marvel at the finished product, bathed in the soft glow of the multicoloured lights as the sun sank below the horizon.
“It smells so good in here,” Win exclaimed, leaning into Gator’s side, smiling softly as he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer. “I’m really glad we did this. It’s perfect,” she breathed, her eyes shimmering in the dim room as she gazed at the tree in wonder.
“Yeah, it really is,” Gator murmured, though he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes from her.
➼ taglist. @super-unpredictable98 @heartbreak-sandwich @sailorskunk @hickeysgodcomplex @thecreelhouse
@girlwiththerubyslippers @mayhem24-7forever
#gator tillman#gator tillman x oc#gator tillman fluff#gator tillman fanfiction#oc: win lewis#otp: wingator#joz.fic#fic: a tillman-lewis christmas
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How to begin writing TODAY!
Writing is like a plant. It needs time, care, and love. Your stories won't write themselves—you need to put in the time to learn to write, and then actually write them down, y’know.
All of it takes time. A lot, I’m afraid. And it takes even more time to start seeing any form of results. People spend years honing their crafts before they even self-publish a single novella on Amazon.
That's why people don't get anywhere if they don't enjoy just the writing part—you can never earn from writing until you’ve spent a lot of time and resources into the craft. It’s kinda like YouTube—you need that watchtime on your channel before you can monetize. But the thing is: writing doesn't have a watchtime feature. You can't quantify how far you’ve come and how far you’ve still got to go.
You need to discipline yourself if you wanna get somewhere. But… how do you do that, lol? Here’s my two pennies on how to start writing, and keep up at it.
***
#01 - When to Start
You can’t pick up your laptop one random day and just start writing a story. Nope, that's not how it works, even though some might say otherwise.
A good writer should understand when is the right time to start typing the words out, y’know. If you have an idea for a story, you need to have some form of outline. Yeah, you can be a pantser—it’s a term used for those fiction writers who write without an outline—but at least you need some form of story. Know the beginning, at least. And know your characters.
Know something about your story, and the direction you want to take it, before you start putting pen to paper.
The reason I’m suggesting you this is because just inspiration is not enough. It can get you somewhere, but after a point, you might feel lost. Stories often end up in places where you might not want them to be, and then you just feel disheartened. Or, ideas might just stop hitting you after some point.
An idea of where to begin is enough, but you also need an idea of where to end. I’ve personally tried several times where I just had a single-line idea of a plot, and I wanted to create a story out of it. Didn't work. I personally need some loose outlines to start first.
What I’m trying to get at is you should know what’s the best time for you to start writing your story. Some don't write a single word before they know exact what happens when, and how. Some, like me, need some loose outlines. Some don't need outlines at all—just the first scene is enough to get them started.
Know what you are—a pantser, planner, or plantser—and start only when you feel like you have enough ideas that could keep you going for a couple weeks. Or if you feel like you could churn enough ideas that could keep you going.
***
#02 - Time
Writing takes time. And if you wanna get somewhere, you need to have a schedule.
Y’know, different writers might commit different amounts of time to writing. Some write once or twice a week, some (liek me lol) write everyday. And, you need to know which one works for you.
And—and I hate to be the bearer of bad news—it doesn't depend on you. The amount of time you can spend on writing depends more on your life. Are you a student? Or do you work?
And how many friends do you have? How busy is your work?
You need to take care of all these aspects of life that you can't mess up with, and then softly rearrange them all to fit something like writing in it. That’s why I hated the times when I shifted schools, houses, or when I was promoted to college. Because those shifts meant that I had to rearrange my day’s schedule again, and somehow fit writing in it.
And, before you start rearranging everything, I need to tell you something else—you need to be realistic about it. You can't just come back from college and sit back to write, y’know. If you generally take some rest during that time, take your rest. Please. Don't cut down on the time you rest or eat or sleep.
Why, you might ask? Is it because I care about you fellow writer? NO!
The thing is: it just won't work. You need sleep and food and rest to keep functioning, and if you think you can cut on that time and allot it to writing, you won't be able to keep on doing it long-term. You’d relapse. There would be days you’d be hungry, or sleepy, or tired, and you’d think you should just rather go take care of yourself instead of writing. And then you’d do that. And soon, you’d stop writing altogether.
I wrote at six to eight in the morning everyday for a couple of months. But I’m just not a morning person. I can't sleep before twelve in the night, and so I was sleeping for, like, four-five hours a night. You can't keep on going with that sort of schedule.
Firstly, I was sleepy all the time. When writing too, yeah—even though I’d just woke up and taken a bath—but also during my lectures. I slept through all of my political science classes and nearly failed that course. Zero-on-ten experience, not recommended.
Secondly, like I said, you’d relapse. Be true to yourself. You can't keep going on like this, man. Going to bed at one, waking up at five won't work for long. A recipe for disaster.
That's why I urge you to be realistic with the schedule that you make for yourself. Yeah, make a schedule. And appoint time for writing only where you know it’d work. Take enough rest, sleep, and use enough Instagram too.
***
#03 - Know When to Skip
Yeah. There are, no doubts, going to be days when you just don't feel like it. Writing feels like a pain, ideas don't hit you anymore, you’ve just come from a stressful day at work and are tired. We’ve all been there.
At that point, you need to ask yourself: are you really tired, or are you just tired for writing?
I mean, if it’s the first, you should probably work on your schedule. If it’s a one-day thing, that’s fine. Skip it.
But, if it’s the second reason, you need to dig deeper. Why does writing tire you now? Why are you not interested in your story anymore? Where’s the spark gone?
There's a high chance that you’re just not motivated to write this story, y’know. Writing can be a pain for a lot of reasons.
One thing you need to keep writing is to keep yourself motivated. To keep yourself interested. Because that’s how you’d be willing to spend more and more time as days go by, y’know.
And, if it’s the second reason: don't skip. Sit down. Write. And think about what’s not working. And why is it not working. You need to diagnose this problem yourself, and then fix it.
***
#04 - Know When to Go on a Break
I can’t even stress on how many times I’ve tried skipping on trips with my family just because I wanted to write. And I should stress even more on how many times I’ve kept myself going on when I was burnt down to my core and needed a break.
When you’re too pumped up, you do all that stuff. But, as they say, even a lot of something is bad for you. Same with writing.
It’s kinda hard to believe, but that’s true. Firstly, don't skip on stuff. Live your life. If there are days your friends are calling you for a party, and that means you have to skip writing—do it. Skip writing.
Go travel with your family. Go live life, man. You don't just need the skills to write, after all—you need these experiences too. So go get ‘em.
Secondly, know when you’re burnt out. Regular hiatuses are important for any author. Don't start working on the next book of your trilogy if you’ve just completed the first. Go take a break first.
Don't push yourself too hard. I did that. Very recently. I was burnt out to my core, and it was hard pushing myself through. But I loved writing, so I made sure I took out two hours of my day for that.
But my story suffered. I lost all interest in it. Writers’ block hit me hard—even though I was working on a second draft, so I mostly knew where I was gonna take the story forward. I averaged around three-four hundred words a day—and that’s when I could actually write something—even though I used to average around fifteen-hundred a day. A big fall. And, there were days I just wrote a hundred words in two hours.
Those were some hard times, to be honest. I literally thought that I was probably growing out of it, and I was afraid if I did. Luckily, it was just a burnout, and a two-week’s break was enough to get me back.
And I’d scrapped the old project, lol. It was seriously bad.
Anyway, what I mean is that you need to know when to take breaks too. Writing is not just about writing. It’s also about learning about life.
***
Conclusion
I have an important announcement to make today. I’ve finally launched my very own newsletter! Yeah, that’s right. Now you’d find a really annoying click-me-master link at the very end of every single one of my blogs.
So, if you want more blogs like this one straight onto your inbox, click here!
I hope you have a nice day. Meet’cha next time!
#writers and poets#writers on tumblr#writerscommunity#writeblr#writing advice#creative writing#writers life#on writing#writing
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EDIT: Also posted on AO3!
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Peter wakes up late.
Arguably, it’s the weekend. Even then, he’s not someone who sleeps until afternoon. Mainly because someone wakes him for breakfast and to get through the day. And on some weekends, he even has breakfast in bed.
It’s 12 PM when he opens his eyes, hearing no noises out of his room.
Indeed, when he gets out of bed, Peter doesn’t find any signs of life in the Compound. Breakfast is not set. And as far as he’s concerned, no one is in the workshop, for he cannot hear any loud rock music coming from it.
“Um… F.R.I.D.A.Y?” Peter looks at the ceiling. “Where’s Mr. Stark?”
“Boss is currently in a series of meetings. He’ll be back by the evening. He said there’s coffee ready, and food in the fridge to heat up.”
“Oh.”
The boy realizes he’s still wrapped by his blanket, as Peter hugs it close.
“Would you like me to call Boss?” F.R.I.D.A.Y asks.
“No, no, I just wanted to know. Thanks.”
“You can let me know if you need him.”
“It’s okay, F.R.I.D.A.Y.”
She doesn’t insist. The house goes silent again.
He wants her to come back.
But he doesn’t say that.
So, Peter goes on with his day. He eats his cereal and he doesn’t mix the coffee with milk like he usually does. He doesn’t like black coffee like Tony does… but it doesn’t feel wrong this time. Peter tries sending messages to Ned and MJ, but they both have plans for today so they won’t be able to talk much today. Aunt May is out of town, hence why Peter is staying over. She does ask if everything is okay, and Peter reassures her he’s fine. May tells him to count on Tony with anything he needs.
Peter just sends her a smiling emoji.
He decides not to talk to Karen. One, putting his suit in the Compound for no reason other than to chat with someone is weird. Second, she would certainly let Tony know, and his mentor would immediately tell something is wrong.
Peter goes to the workshop. He greets DUM-E. As much as he loves the little bot, DUM-E only beeps and Peter has not yet figured out his language. The arachnid doesn’t have anything to fix on his suit. He asks F.R.I.D.A.Y if Tony needs any help with his projects (his mentor has given him permission to help him out if he wants). But apparently, there isn’t anything to be fixed.
Right. Nothing in the workshop, then.
Peter tries watching TV. He doesn’t really focus. He checks his phone but there aren’t any new messages. His friends are too busy for him. Time is passing very slowly. It’s not even mid afternoon and Tony will take forever to come back.
Finally, he goes back to his room. He needs to get his math homework done, anyway. Peter gets his earphones ready and he starts reading the book, his notebook page blank, waiting for his train of thought.
Except the music is too distracting. Even if he lowers the volume, it doesn’t help. But if he pauses it entirely, Peter’s thoughts are going to scream louder.
His notebook judges him. The words and instructions in his book don’t make sense. Even though Peter re-reads over and over again, they only get more confusing, and he loses more patience, as his head pounds.
Ask for help, a little voice says inside him.
Help for what? Homework?
It’s not just homework.
But it’s not important.
Everyone has better things to do.
Peter growls, breaking his pencil in half with a lot of ease, then dropping the meaningless pieces on the floor. He can’t bring himself to fix it or simply throw in the garbage. It’s just a stupid pencil anyway.
His book is slowly consumed by teardrops.
Countless.
Like it’s raining right in it.
Only Peter is the big storm cloud that can’t make it stop. That can’t do the most basic of things.
He can’t take it anymore.
He sobs. A lot. Loud.
It probably echoes in the penthouse.
People won’t hear it, though.
Peter covers his eyes, now wetting his hands instead of the book. The music is still playing and it’s mocking him. You’re stupid. You’re useless. You can’t do anything right.
He cries for a good couple of minutes. It only grows louder and more painful. Peter doesn’t know why he’s like this. He can handle things alone. He has always handled everything on his own and he never broke down like this. Why is he like this now?
The emptiness around him is engulfing him. It’s empty like his apartment when Uncle Ben died. Peter couldn’t sleep for days when it happened. Mostly because he was distracted trying to save other people’s lives, to prevent another tragedy from happening.
But there’s no one to save.
Peter is trapped.
He can’t do this.
He can’t do this.
He can’t…
…
Someone is knocking on the door.
“Peter?”
Suddenly, he’s back in the bedroom, the book and notebook are just… school objects. They aren’t saying anything.
Peter is too shocked to even open his mouth.
“Peter, I’m coming in.”
Shit. Fuck.
The boy hides himself, turning away from the door, also using his arm to try and pretend the tears aren’t there.
“M-Mr. Stark! I thought- Why”– the teen gulps, unsure what to say that won’t blow his cover. He fears he’s failed anyway –“What’re you doing here?”
“F.R.I.D.A.Y called me, she said you needed me.”
Even though Tony doesn’t sound annoyed in the slightest, Peter only feels pathetic and ashamed of the last three words.
“Y-You didn’t have to come here, Mr. Stark.”
He senses Tony approaching.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” the man patiently requests.
“I don’t know! Something is wrong with- with my brain!” Peter lashes out. He hates himself for that. Despite that, Tony doesn’t get angry. “I tried to distract myself but there was nothing to fix in the lab, TV didn’t help, and not even my stupid homework helps because I’m stupid-!”
“Hey, hey, hey…” Tony is kneeling down next to him. “You’re not stupid. It’s okay.”
Peter cries again with the other’s soft voice. “I can’t do anything, Mr. Stark.”
“That’s okay. You just need a break, kiddo.”
“Yeah, but…”
It’s not just a break that he needs.
“... what’s the point if I’m just gonna be alone?”
Tony gently places a hand on Peter’s arm. The boy finally looks back at him.
“I’m here. You’re not alone.”
“But what about your meetings? They must be more important.”
“You’re more important to me, Pete.”
He knows that, doesn’t he?
Why does it make Peter emotional anyway?
Regardless, Tony throws away the broken pencil for him.
“Come on, buddy,” he calls him, standing on his feet but waiting for Peter to follow him. Actually, he wants Peter to lead the way.
That way, the two end up at the couch. The TV is on and Peter couldn’t care less about what’s airing. Tony grabbed his blanket and wrapped him up in a burrito. Even though he’s wearing an expensive suit, he hugs Peter close and he starts telling him about the meetings today and how boring they were. He also talked shit about some of the people he had to debate with.
For the first time today, Peter smiles, at peace.
Everything is alright now.
#peter parker#tony stark#irondad#fics#my fics#fanfiction#death mention tw#i was actually having a bad day before writing this down#but now i feel... lighter#i'm still sad but my chest isn't crushing me anymore#will be posting on ao3 later!
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