#i’m going to time it so that i have at least a week off for when totk comes out

[lovelettersfromluna]

Under Your Spell

summary: what’s that old saying? Best way to get over someone is to get under…..yeah yeah, we all know where this going, don’t we?

an: Hi! Long time no see, huh? I hope you’ve all been doing well! I’ve missed it here a lot, more than you could ever know. The semester is over, and I’m finally free! (For a little bit). College is very hard, and it took a lot of me this year, but let’s not get into that right now. This chapter has been VERY long awaited, and I am so sorry that it’s taken this long to get to you all. This one is pretty short, but not only did I want to get it out to you all in time, but I also have lots planned for the next chapter! (Luna you’re putting four parts into one of your fics???) I know I know, shocker right? Anyways, I hope you all enjoy this past despite it being short! Love you 🤍🤍🤍

warnings: MDNI!, 18+ fic only, slight smut, lots of angst, mean!Ellie, idiot!Ellie??, Abby’s in this one hehe, making out, drinking, let me know if I missed anything!

Part 1, Part 2

Sleeping in your bed had become extremely difficult.

It was like every time you laid your head against the soft pillows, your skin sliding against the soft material of your sheets, your brain would be filled with images of Ellie. The feeling of her lips on your throat, her hands on your hips, everything she’d given to you was permanently burned into your memory.

You couldn’t get away from her, no matter what you did.

You let out a soft sigh as you sat at your old desk, your cheek resting against your palm as your fingers traced along the smooth material of the wood. Things had gotten a lot trickier after your last night with Ellie, your mind clouded with confusion regarding the entire ordeal.

Ellie had….sought out for you. She definitely did the first time but there was something about her coming home from a night out, and slipping into your sheets that had your mind in shambles. It didn’t make any sense, you were sure that whatever happened between you and Ellie was a one off, something that was influenced mainly by alcohol and forced proximity. The played out story of the brother’s best friend ending up in a sticky situation with the younger sister. It was cliche, but it happened.

That didn’t change that it left your stomach in knots every time you heard the floorboards creak near Ellie’s room.

You’d done a pretty good job at avoiding her and the entire situation. It meant that you were in complete and total lockdown, even worse than before, however it saved any awkward tension, which you’d much rather trade for a few months of complete isolation.

But as all good things did, it was coming to an end.

Because you were given a choice, one that dangled your pride, and your social life in your face, forcing you to choose which you valued more.

Every summer, a huge party was thrown down at the beach. You and your brother joined as soon as you were old enough to drink, your parents went when they were younger, their parents went, and nearly everyone in your town experienced it at least once. It was like a tradition, one that every young person would look forward to.

It was one of your favorite parts about being home for the summer.

However, there wasn’t a party thrown in town that your brother and Ellie wouldn’t join.

And that’s where your choice came in.

You’d been going back and forth with yourself all week, weighing out the pros and the cons of it all. You knew that there were ways to get around her, to make sure that you wouldn’t see here while you were out there. To top it all off, you hated the idea of letting Ellie rip away one of your favorite things to do while you were home, giving her that much power didn’t make any sense to you.

But you still couldn’t push yourself to do it.

You swiveled your chair back and forth, staring up at your ceiling as you struggled to make a decision. However the clock was ticking, and the party was officially happening tonight. You didn’t have much time to go back and forth with yourself anymore.

It was either you swallow your pride, go out and enjoy yourself for the first time since everything happened with Ellie, ultimately standing up for yourself and sending her a big fuck you while doing so…

Or

You let her win. You sacrifice your time there and you let Ellie steal your time. You let her make a fool out of you by being too hung up on the very weird attention she’d been giving you, and you stay in your room for yet another night while everyone else is having the time of their lives.

Thinking of it that way didn’t leave you much of an option, did it?

You practically rip your room apart looking for the perfect outfit to wear, which ends up being a pink halter top that flows down a bit at the ends, a pair of your favorite denim shorts and your sneakers. By the time you’re finishing up your hair and your makeup, you hear the faint sound of your brothers minions showing up, pairing that with the music that starts playing leaves you to figuring they’re probably pregaming before they leave.

That’s when it starts feeling real.

You let out a deep sigh as you stare in the mirror, fixing your top over your chest before fluffing out your hair and fixing your lip gloss, giving yourself a gentle affirming nod before you push your phone into your back pocket and head downstairs.

A blanket of silence falls between Derek and his friends when they notice you, multiple sets of eyes zeroing in on you as you slip between your brother and one of his friends silently to pour a shot before throwing it back with ease. Hazels the first to comment on it.

“Awe man, I didn’t think the first grader could hang….you joining us tonight sweetie?” She taunts, her perfect teeth pressing down into her plush bottom lip as she stares at you, a challenging look in her eye.

Derek is the next one to speak up, a surprised look on his face as he stares down at you. “Wait…really? You’re coming with us?” He quips hopefully. Had Hazel kept her fucking mouth shut, you probably would’ve found the sentiment sweet from him.

You inhale deeply to calm yourself, staring down into the empty shot glass before you finally raise your eyes to look at Hazel, only to find her standing across the island, her back pressed into Ellie’s chest as her tattooed hands toy with the exposed skin of Hazel’s waist.

You completely ignore Ellie’s eyes burning holes into you.

“Shut the fuck up Hazel” you bite back before pouring another shot.

Your words earns reactions from the group instantly, even your brother chuckling softly as he gives you a proud smile. Hazel however, is not amused in the slightest.

Her poker face drops for a moment, nostrils flaring as she stares you down like she wants to jump over the table and have you for herself, but she quickly picks it up, giving you an impressed smirk before she nods slowly.

“Ahh so she speaks…my apologies sweetheart” she practically grits out before she lets out an annoyed sigh.

“Let’s go then. I don’t wanna be late” she quickly seethes out, pushing herself out of Ellie’s arms so she can grab her purse that was sitting on the couch.

You trail behind the others after your brother reassures you things will be okay, giving him a soft smile as you all pile into his car, ultimately missing the way Ellie’s eyes trail you the entire times

The car ride there feels nostalgic. The summer breeze turns cooler the closer you get to the familiar beach, your brother blasting his music in the front as you rest your head against the edge of the window, letting the wind blow through your hair.

It makes you wish things were different. The warmth in your chest would’ve paired so well with a better crowd, one that didn’t see you as the annoying little sister that tagged along when she really shouldn’t be.

Your mind takes you to an alternate reality where things are different, one where you get along with your brother’s friends. You wonder if they’d like you if they gave you the chance, if they weren’t predisposed to not liking you simply because you’re younger than them…

You wonder if things had been different, if you and Ellie could’ve been something.

Because clearly there’s attraction there, there had to be. Were you so wrong for even letting your brain wander there? Wondering what life would be like if you and Ellie were cordial, let alone experimenting with a relationship in a normal way, and not the way you’d been going on for this past summer.

What would it be like if she treated you the way she treated Hazel while others were around? What would it be like if you were in Hazel’s position? Propped up in Ellie’s lap while the others sang songs and joked around with each other?

You’d never know, because you were in this reality, not a perfect one.

You don’t even realize when your brother pulls up to the beach. The gentle shake of the car as his friends practically run out is what rips you away from your thoughts. You clear your throat as you make your way out once everyone is gone, brushing down your outfit as you make your way down the familiar path to the beach. The beach is blossoming with the sound of life. Loud music quickly surrounds you, people dancing, swimming, drinking, it’s almost so perfect it feels cliche, and that alone reminds you that you’d made the right decision by deciding to come out.

You’re the moth, and the ocean is your flame.

It draws you in closer as you sip the drink from your solo cup, appreciating the pattern of the tide rolling in, wetting the sand beneath it, only to then pull back out shortly after. It’s what you’d missed most about the beach in your home town, its ability to calm you no matter what was almost remarkable, even with the crowd of people around you.

You have to stop yourself from walking too far down the beach, knowing deep down that Derek’s friends would take any chance to ditch you while we’re oblivious to what was going on. It’s how you end up out on one of the piers, your legs dangling over the edge as you stare up at the moon, watching as the waves roll in while you sip on your drink.

There’s heavy footsteps along the wooden pier, ones that you don’t quite catch between the heavy sound of the waves, and the music nearby. It isn’t until a familiar voice rings in your ear that you realize you’re not alone.

“You know I heard you were back in town….but I thought there’s no way you’d come back without texting me first” the words come from behind you, and your eyes widen once you catch the tall frame standing over you.

Abby Anderson

She was one of your closest friends back in elementary school. It wasn’t nice to admit, but you’d drifted apart once you both got to high school. It was in the most natural way possible, but she always managed to stick around in your mind from time to time.

Before all of that, you two were stuck at the hip. It was a similar friendship to Ellie and your brother, the two of you always running through your house, causing many headaches for both your parents and her parents whenever you were both together.

You hadn’t seen Abby in years since you left for college, it’d been so long that you didn’t even realize how long it had been.

Her physique was quite the sign that time had passed though.

You gasp softly when you realize it’s her, quickly pushing yourself up off the pier to push yourself into her already opened arms.

“I didn’t know you came back for the summer…god it’s been so long” you sigh out against her broad shoulders, the sweet smell of her perfume filling your nose as you let your eyes flutter shut, relishing in the feeling of her strong arms wrapping around your waist.

“You’d know if you thought to hit me up once in a while” she teases. You can hear the smirk in her voice as she keeps you close. It makes you giggle softly as you finally pull away from her, wanting to get a good look at the girl.

She’s just as pretty as you remember. Abby always had the prettiest blonde hair, and the most charming smile. Those were never things that you failed to notice about your friend, however she’s different now. She’s taller, her build a hell of a lot more stronger than when you were in elementary school, her hair longer and tucked into a thick braid…

You have to stop yourself from staring.

She peers down into your cup, noticing that you were getting empty. She nods her head towards the bonfire before speaking.

“Let’s top you up while you tell me alllll about your life in the big city, yeah?” She offers, to which you dumbly nod to as you follow next to her almost obediently.

After that, the two of you were glued to the hip the entire night. Between catching up on what life had brought the two of you within your adult years, and reminiscing over your time as kids, the world could be burning around the both of you and you two wouldn’t have noticed a thing. For the first time since you’d came home, you had finally found someone to spend time with.

And Ellie notices the entire thing.

Her eyes were on you the entire night. From the moment you came downstairs at the house, it was like she was under some fucked up spell that made it so she couldn’t function unless you were in her line of view. She couldn’t count on her hands how many annoyed sighs she received when her friends realized she wasn’t listening to what they were saying, instead busying herself with figuring out where the hell you were.

She tracked you like she was the predator, and you were her prey. She made sure you didn’t stray too far away from the group, made sure you didn’t do something stupid like strip naked to take a quick dip into the cold ocean. She was just being helpful! It wasn’t like she felt her mouth go dry every time it looked like someone was going to approach you….

And its like fate was on your side that night, because the moment Abby approached you at the dock, Hazel was settling herself into Ellie’s lap, toying with the hair at the nape of her neck and ultimately blocking you from her view completely.

The next time she does get a chance to see you again, you’re wrapped up in none other than Abby Anderson’s arms.

It’s just her luck, isn’t it? That out of every girl in your small beachside town, you choose that fucking idiot. You choose the girl that everyone knows to be Ellie’s sworn fucking enemy since forever. The only explanation is that you’re doing this on purpose. You know exactly what to do to get under Ellie’s skin. You did it when you were flirting with Jesse right in front of her, you did it when you kicked her out of your bedroom the last time you two were together, and you were doing it right fucking now by getting all cozy with Abby fucking Anderson.

So of course, she has to try and stop this.

But Ellie soon realizes that she spends way too much time mentally dwelling over this, and accusing you of something she knew deep down was very much out of character for you, because the second her eyes search for the two of you, she’s met with something she can only assume was pulled out of her worst nightmare.

You and Abby hand in hand as she helps you into her car.

Ellie is quick to push Hazel off her lap, her eyes now frantically searching for your brother. Once she spots him, she’s interrupting his conversation the moment she opens her mouth.

“Hey man…have you um….do know where your sisters going right now?” She asks almost out of breath, her eyes shifting quickly between Derek and Abby’s truck as she pulls out of her spot in the parking lot.

Your brother raises his eyebrows as he looks back to where you are in the girls car, nodding as he takes a sip of his drink. “Yeah, she just came and told me her friend is gonna take her home” he explains casually with a shrug before he tries to turn back to his conversation.

Ellie scoffs in disbelief at his casual tone, her hand reaching forward to grab his shoulder and turn him around to face her again.

“Friend? Did you even see who she was leaving with?” Her voice is laced with worry and distress as she complains to your brother, the man oblivious to Ellie’s frantic demeanor.

“Wasn’t it just Abby? They’ve been friends forever…I honestly don’t trust anyone other than that girl. Have you seen her fucking arms? I think my sister is in good hands with her” he chuckles softly as he gives Ellie’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

Between his words and his reaction to the entire thing, Ellie feels like she’s going to lose her fucking mind.

Her green eyes go wide as she stares at your brother before she gives a laugh of disbelief. “Are you fucking kidding me? It’s just Abby? As in Abby fucking Anderson? Are we talking about the same girl here? Or are you suffering from fucking brain damage?” She snaps back.

Her wild eyes and mean words take your brother back, his playful laughter dying down once he realizes that he friend is quite literally tweaking over the fact that you’ve left with the girl that he knew she had some beef with.

“Woah…calm down man. It’s just my sister, your beef with Anderson doesn’t really have anything to do with her…she’ll be fine” he tries to assure her once more, his tone softening to calm his friend.

This does nothing though. It makes Ellie pinch the bridge of her nose in annoyance as she shakes her head. “Give me your keys” she demands with her palm out, pushed towards him.

Derek furrows his brows in confusion. “What? Are you seriously going to-“ he’s quickly cut off by Ellie, stopping him from finishing his question.

“Give me your fucking keys Derek. I’m not letting that asshole get it in with your sister” she finally admits, her words making your brothers eyes go wide with realization, finally seeing the situation for what it really was.

He inhales deeply before he reaches into his pocket and finally places his keys into his friends hand without another word, biting back the smirk that threatened to grace his lips.

He always thought Ellie’s animosity towards you was weird, but he never thought it would mean this all along.

She doesn’t even notice, the girl quickly taking the keys and mumbling a small ‘thanks’ as she jogs up the path to the parking lot to jump into your brothers car, and race home.

Meanwhile at your house, Abby was showing you quite the time.

It didn’t take long for you two to give into the tension that had settled the moment she picked you up from the dock. One moment you were toying with the little loose hairs falling from her braid and framing her face, and the next you were tugging her up to your bedroom and locking the door behind you.

Her hands were all over you, caressing your body as her knee began grinding into your core, her lips swallowing up your moans as you clung to her desperately, chasing your high as if your life depended on it.

The feeling of Abby against you cleared Ellie out of your head almost immediately. You weren’t worried about her or the mean things she’d said to you, or the nasty way she’d treated you after getting what she wanted from you. What once was a bed that you could barely sleep in without thinking of her was now filled with the feeling of Abby, and you couldn’t be more grateful.

Ellie realizes she’s too late when she pulls into your driveway to see Abby’s truck is still there, and she has to stop herself from ripping your brothers car door off when she gets out and slams it closed. There’s still something in her that hopes this is all innocent, that you didn’t really do the unthinkable and take Abby Anderson home to spite her. She hopes that the sweet side of you has taken the moral high ground, that you’ve gone to bed like the good girl she knows you are and Abby just happened to walk home and leave her car in your driveway.

So when she’s jogging on the stairs after frantically searching for you downstairs, hoping that she’ll find you sound asleep in your bed, her blood practically runs cold when her hand wraps around your doorknob…

And she can make out the familiar sounds of your moans through your door, paired with Abby’s words of encouragement to go with it.

[azuresaqua]

little gifts

warnings + notes: kinich x reader, fluff, 2,4k words, secret santa submission for @vxnuslogy :) HI VEE !!!! i am your secret santa this year i hope you liked the fic :] tried to incorporate the things you like in this fic so !!! <3

PRESENT TIME

You consider Kinich to be a sentimental person. Why? Because when you accidentally stumble upon a box in your shared closet with the label “from my love” which is filled with things you had gotten him before and while you were dating, everything is in perfect condition. Nothing is broken, dirty, not a speck of dust in sight - as if he’d been secretly taking care of it.

“You’re snooping through my stuff now?” Kinich’s voice echoes through the room, laced with a slight amusement. He walks closer to you, peering inside the box. “Oh, you found it.”

“You kept all this?” you ask, taking out the first item in the box which is a little dragon keychain with a broken handle.

-

FIRST GIFT - DRAGON KEYCHAIN

The first time you ever gave Kinich a gift was during one of your “dates”. It wasn’t really a date, now that you actually think about it. It was way before the two of you started dating and Mualani and Kachina were there with you, so basically it was more of a hangout rather than a date (but Kinich will still think of it as a one).

The four of you had just finished the final exams of your last semester in university (while Kachina had just finished her last exams in high school), and Mualani had suggested to go hang out at a nearby mall to celebrate finally finishing exams. Of course, you and Kachina agreed almost instantly while Kinich had to be dragged by you and Mualani to come along.

“Ah, the mall!” Mualani took in a deep breath of “mall air” as she calls it and placed her hands on her hips, a triumphant smile on her face. “I’m finally back!” she threw her arms open, people passing by staring at her weirdly. “Y/N, tell me, how does it feel to finally be back in the mall after that tortuous week of non-stop studying?” Mualani slung a hand over your shoulder.

“I was back here just a few days ago…” you admitted, Mualani giving you a betrayed look. “I’m sorry! My parents took me out for dinner when they saw how hard I was studying last week.” you gave Mualani an apologetic look and she sighs.

“Okay, I’ll forgive you this time,” Mualani said and then gave you a cheeky smile. “However…” she trails off, changing her cheeky smile into something more… suspicious.

“What do you have in mind?” you asked nervously. Mualani isn’t mean, everyone knows that, but sometimes her plans are extraordinary, to say the least. What you were afraid of was accidentally letting out your secret of having a crush on Kinich. “Don’t be-” you tried whispering in her ear but Mualani suddenly grabbed Kinich’s hand and pulled him closer to you.

“My plan for today is to give each other gifts for finishing our exams!” Mualani exclaimed a little too excitedly. You had your suspicions that she just came up with that idea like five seconds ago, but you had no energy left to argue with her. “I was going to use spin the wheel to choose who gets who, but since someone went to the mall without us knowing,” she gave you a side eye. “I’m pairing you with Kinich!”

“Isn’t this a little unfair?” you complained.

“What’s unfair?” Mualani gave you a wink. “I think it’s a perfect opportunity to show whether or not you know the other person well.”

Kinich, who hadn’t been saying anything for the past ten minutes or so, suddenly spoke up. “That’s fine with me. I think this is a fun event.”

“See?” Mualani said. “Even Kinich doesn’t mind. As a matter of fact, I think you’re the only one who disagrees with this plan of mine.”

You narrowed your eyes, spotting Kachina behind Mualani who was watching this whole ordeal with an amused smile on her face. “Hey! Kachina hasn’t said anything. Wouldn’t it be rude of us just to go along with this if one person hasn’t said anything yet?”

Kachina, thrusted into the spotlight, flushed with embarrassment. “I-I don’t mind, really. I think it’s a fun activity.”

You stared at Kachina with a ‘you betrayed me’ look in your eyes and groaned in defeat. Eventually, after some more discussions, you split up - Kachina with Mualani and you with Kinich.

It was a quiet walk around the mall, you not knowing what to say and because Kinich is… well, Kinich. It’s nerve-wracking, really, being around him alone. You opened your mouth to say something but closed it back again not knowing how to say it.

Kinich might have noticed you getting all nervous because he suddenly spoke up. “Wanna split up? That way we’ll be surprised when we see the items we got.”

“Oh, yeah sure! That’s a good idea,” you replied. “So…”

“I’ll go this way.” Kinich pointed to his left. “We’ll meet back here in 40 minutes?”

“Okay,” you replied and saw Kinich walk away with his hands in his pockets. You let out a shaky breath, lightly slapping yourself on your cheeks to focus. “I can do this. Just get him something he likes.”

Around ten minutes of you walking around five different stores, you felt defeated. There was nothing you could find for Kinich in this mall, heck, you didn’t even know what he liked! He’d never been vocal about anything that piqued his interest, and even if he does find something cool, he fixates on it for a few minutes and then suddenly seems to lose interest.

Then, an idea pops into your head. The few times you’ve been in Kinich’s home (with the others of course), you’ve seen a few dragon stickers on his table and his wardrobe. There are just a few, but you have noticed that maybe Kinich likes anything related to dragons.

Walking into a store that sells many little trinkets, you spotted a cute little dragon keychain. There were a few options on display, but the blue, black, and green dragon keychain caught your eye. It resembled Kinich so well that it’s basically him in dragon form. It was subtle but enough for someone to catch if you were to squint your eyes at his bag.

“Perfect,” you muttered, grabbing it and walking over to the cashier. Walking back to the spot you agreed to rendezvous in, you spotted him already waiting there for you, a bag in his hands and his attention focused on his phone. “Kinich!”

He lifted his head and placed his phone in his pocket. “You sure took your time.”

“Sorry,” you apologized. “It took me a while to choose the perfect gift.”

“It’s okay,” Kinich said. “Mualani said to meet up in this cafe on the second floor.” You nodded and followed him up to the cafe.

Mualani and Kachina were already sitting on the chairs with gift bags on the table. Mualani saw the two of you and waved her arm, signaling you to come over. “Hey! What took you guys so long? We ordered some cheesecake and drinks,” you and Kinich sat down on the sofa side, making yourself comfortable.

“You know me so well, Mualani,” you teased, taking one plate of the cheesecake. “Oh, this is yummy.”

“Right?!” Kachina exclaimed, almost too excitedly. “Best cheesecake I’ve ever tasted.”

Mualani laughed, giving her a pat on her head. “Seems like someone has been missing out on some cheesecakes during her exam period,” Kachina let out an embarrassed laugh. “Well! Since we’re all here, let’s get to the present exchange shall we?”

“Wait- now?” you almost choked on your dessert, “Shouldn’t we finish our food first?”

“Where’s the fun in that? Eating cheesecake while opening our presents is a fun time!” Mualani explained. “Since you complained, you’re going first.”

“Hey-!” you tried to complain, but Kinich handed his gift to you. “You could’ve at least waited for me to finish eating.” You took one more bite out of your cheesecake and exchanged gifts with him.

“You can go first,” Kinich said, urging you to open the present.

You hummed and opened the bag. You gasped when you saw what was inside. Now, Mualani didn’t specify how many gifts you were supposed to buy for the other, but anyone would have thought one was enough. But Kinich had in fact gotten you three gifts.

You took out the first two items which were books, the ones you had been dreaming of buying but didn’t have enough money for. “You got me Franz Kafka’s books?! Kinich, this is too much.”

“I don’t think so,” Kinich replied softly. “You’ve been working so hard these past few weeks for our exams so I think you deserve them.”

You swear you were about to cry from how sweet his words are. Taking out the last gift was what made you cry for real - it was a bracelet, and once again, one you have been wanting to buy for a long time but not enough money to buy it. The pretty pink charms captivated you the moment you laid your eyes on it. Happy tears streamed down your face as you looked up at Kinich. “Isn’t this over your budget?”

“I have been saving my money since I didn’t really have anything I wanted to buy,” Kinich answered, giving you the sweetest smile in the world.

“How did you know I wanted these?” you asked.

“You mentioned it a few times before,” Kinich replied. “During our hangouts and free time. The last time we went to the mall together I remember you walking into the bookstore, staring at those two in particular for a long time.”

“Huh? Wait a minute, when did the two of you go out together?” Mualani asked, wiggling her eyebrows. “I don’t think you’ve ever-” You almost leapt across the table to cover Mualani’s mouth, to prevent her from saying more.

“You and Kachina were busy, and I was bored, so I asked Kinich to hang out with me,” you said, clearing your throat. You grabbed the small bag next to you, suddenly feeling anxious about giving it to him. “I feel bad for only giving you this one item, but I tried my best, I promise.”

Kinich took the bag from your hands and retrieved the little dragon keychain you bought. He stared at it for ten seconds without saying anything, and you thought he was about to say he didn’t like it, but when a smile appeared on his face, you felt relieved. “This is really cute, thank you.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything else,” you felt embarrassed only getting him so little. “This was the only thing I found that reminded me of you.”

Kinich blinked and you swear you saw the tip of his ears turn red, but you brushed it off, thinking it was just the lighting. “No, I love it, really…”

Mualani suddenly cleared her throat. “Did you two forget we were here or something? Stop flirting in front of us!”

You choked out an embarrassed noise. “We are not flirting!”

“Was too!”

“Was not!”

In the midst of bickering with Mualani it was a shame you didn’t notice how Kinich’s eyes were trained on you the whole time.

-

PRESENT TIME

“Remember the way me and Mualani were arguing on whether or not we were openly flirting in front of her and Kachina?” you giggle. “Pretty sure Kachina couldn’t look us in the eyes for a few days after that.”

Kinich squats down next to you, holding the dragon keychain in his hands. “Yeah, that was really funny to see,” he flips it around, examining it. “It’s a shame we can’t fix the handle. I really loved using it on my bag.”

“We can always get a new one, you know?” you reply. “Besides, I’m pretty sure this was cheap…”

Kinich laughs. “Now that I think about it, our gift exchange was unfair.”

“Stop that! I didn’t know what to get you!” you complain. “Your stupid mysterious aura made it hard to understand you better.”

Shaking his head, Kinich takes out the next item in the box which was a poorly made paper flower.

-

SECOND GIFT - PAPER FLOWER

The first few weeks of going out with Kinich was… awkward, to say the least. Yes, you’d had a major crush on him ever since you started university and had been friends with him since high school, but that didn’t mean you knew how to act around him (especially since you were now his significant other).

When he asked you out on a date - to which you agreed without a second thought - you had this tiny paper flower you had made in art class. It looked… good, but it wasn’t quite beautiful. You tried your best, really. You wanted to give Kinich a handmade flower you’d seen everyone make on TikTok, but it failed and now you had to give Kinich a poorly made rendition that looked like it got run over by a car.

When you walked out the door, Kinich was already waiting outside of your dorm lobby dressed in casual clothes (which honestly made him look even cuter). He noticed you slowly walking over to him and he smiled. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you said, almost sounding breathless. The paper flower in your hand almost was crushed in your hands because of how nervous you were. “Um, I have something for you.” you hesitantly showed him the paper flower and Kinich blinked twice before taking it from you. “I know it looks ugly, but I swear I tried my best.”

You could see him stifling a laugh and you immediately frowned. “Stop laughing!”

“Sorry, it’s just-” Kinich tucked the flower safely in his pocket. “I love it, I promise.”

“You were laughing,” you pointed out.

“Because I find it cute,” Kinich replied. “You made a really pretty flower.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Why do I feel like you’re lying?”

“I promise I’m not,” Kinich said, taking your hand in his. “Now, shall we get going with our date?”

-

PRESENT TIME

“I can’t believe you kept this!” you exclaim in disbelief. The paper flower still looked like the first time you gave it to him. “I thought you threw this away.”

“Why would I?” Kinich asks. “Both of these gifts from you are special and I’d like to keep them with me forever if I can help it.”

“So sappy,” you tease. The box still has a few items in it but you’re about to run late for the restaurant reservation Kinich booked for your date night. “Come on, let’s go. We’re going to be late.”

Kinich hums. “Do you have a present for me tonight?” he teases, giving you a smile. “Perhaps another poorly made paper flower?”

“Keep that up and you’re having dinner alone,” you say sternly.

Kinich immediately stops talking.

[wonderjanga]

Little Billy the Assistant

Zatanna was looking for the Champion. She’d wanted to ask for his help procuring an ingredient for a potion. All she expected was a short trip and maybe adventure. What she didn’t expect was running into a magically gifted orphan homeless looking kid.

Zatanna: *takes a detour a cramped street with a bunch of stalls selling stuff*

Billy: *ahead of her, heads to a gate leading to an alley, looks around for a bit before literally melting the lock off*

Zatanna: *sees this and stares*

Billy: *casts one more glance back before nearly feeling his soul leave his body at the sight of her looking at him*

He looked just as surprised to see her as she was to see him. Zatanna thought he was scared because he got caught by someone using magic in public. Billy was actually scared because she saw his civilian form do magic. Because what if she connected it back to Cap or something?!

Anyways, they made an uncomfortable amount of eye contact from across the street before Billy bolted into the alley. She tried to follow, but the crowd of the cramped street kept getting in her way, and by the time she got to the alley he was gone. Having lost him, she decided to ask Cap about the little boy about a week later when they were both at the Watchtower after he’d helped her find the ingredient she’d wanted. As for why it took a week for her to find him and ask for help? Billy had been avoiding her. Anyways…

Zatanna: “Cap, have you seen this little kid running around?”

Marvel: *immediately knew she was probably talking about him* “You’re going to have to be more specific than that Zatanna.”

Zatanna: “Okay… this little blue eyed black haired short little thing, maybe nine or 10-”

Marvel: *a little offended because he’s 12*

Zatanna: “-I saw him do magic the other day so he’s magical too. You know anything about him?”

Marvel: “Maybe? Why do you care about him?”

Zatanna: “Because recently I’ve had this idea of maybe having a little stage assistant.”

Marvel: “I thought you said you never wanted to share the spotlight or something?”

Zatanna: “That is true, but he was adorable! And I’m pretty sure he was also homeless.”

Marvel: *doesn’t know how to feel about being called adorable* “So…?”

Zatanna: “So he’d become my assistant and learn how to do his magic better since I doubt he has a teacher if I’m right about him being homeless. There’s also the added bonus of earning money which will benefit whether or not he actually is homeless.”

Marvel: *was prepared to say yes as soon as he heard money* “I’ll talk to him about it.”

Zatanna: “Oh? So you do know him.”

Marvel: “Maybe.”

Zatanna: “Maybe?”

Marvel: “Maybe. By the way, I’m pretty sure that kid you’re talking about has a job as a radio show host so he might not accept your offer if it conflicts with his schedule.”

Zatanna: “Radio show host? That’s a little retro, no? Buuuuuut… if he’s a show host, that at least means he has some pizzazz, so he could probably be good on stage too! As for the schedule thing, I mostly do night shows so he should be good.”

Billy mulled over this decision for many(two) days before deciding he’d accept her offer. As Cap, he told her to meet Billy at a popular street.

Billy: *waiting near a fountain and contemplating every decision he made up until his*

Zatanna: “Ah, it’s you! I assume Cap told you about my offer?”

Billy: “Yes? Could we uh… talk more about what the job would be like?”

Zatanna: “Of course! But first, let’s get some food in you.”

Billy: “What? Why?”

Zatanna: “Bud, you’re practically skin and bones.”

Billy: “Oh.” *sounds upset*

Zatanna: “Hey, hey, hey! No need to get upset! Try to think of the positives! I’m getting you food!”

They went to a little diner and ate while discussing all the things. What his job as an assistant would be, his pay, and so on.

Zatanna: “You sure know how to talk business, little guy.”

Billy: “Thank you…?” *sounds confused*

Zatanna: “I meant that in a good way.”

Billy: “Oh. Thanks then.” *smiles*

Zatanna: *just barely resists the urge to pinch his cheeks*

Zatanna stand by the fact that this kid was, in fact, incredibly adorable. Such a cutie honestly. And he’s such a sweetheart, too. After this meeting, they met up a couple more times, so Billy could rehearse being her assistant before he actually went on stage. Then the day came that he finally had to do his job…

Billy and Zatanna: *standing behind a curtain on stage*

Billy: “Uhm… Ms. Zatanna?”

Zatanna: “Yes?”

Billy: “What happens if I’m not good at being an assistant?”

Zatanna: *pauses to think* “Well, you’d stop, but I’d still continue trying to help you with your magic.”

Billy: “You mean that?” *just happy she wouldn’t immediately kick him to the curb*

Zatanna: “Of course.” *again has to resist pinching his cheeks*

The curtains soon opened after that conversation. The show must go on!

I’ll leave it up to you guys on whether he did good or not.

[heart-eyed-love]

Charms

Summary | Eddie has a small gift for you before you both leave for Christmas break

Contains | Fem!Reader, Friends-to-Lovers, Cursing

Word Count | 1.2k

An | Merry Christmas to everyone who celebrates, this is coming out late :( but I hope everyone had a good day!

It was the last day before Christmas break, and you were more than relieved to say the least. You need a 2 week break away from this shit hole. And while you had your friends, you still needed a break from this place.

You were gonna go visit some of your family members during the break, not the plans you had originally hoped for, but in your opinion just about anything was better than this school.

You had slightly brought up to your friends in passing that you were gonna be out of town during break, but it wasn’t something you had necessarily thought they’d care to remember. And it wasn’t something you’d be offended about them forgetting either way, you knew something you tend to fade to the background of settings.

So that afternoon, as you shoved all the books and papers you’d no longer need in your backpack over this break back into your locker, you let yourself sigh in relief as you now held a significantly lighter backpack.

“Hey…” The voice sneaks up behind you, causing you to jump. And when you turn to look at the source and smirking Eddie comes into view.

“Hi?” You answer back, raised brows at the boy in front of you, “What’s up?” You ask, shutting your locker as you do, and he can’t help but take notice of the jangling of your charm bracelet he knows all too well.

“Oh you know, nothing much. Excited to get out of here?”

“Yeah, I mean, who isn’t? It’s school… so I’m pretty sure everyone is eager to get out of here… aren’t you?” You ask back, looking up at the boy in front of you. Even after hanging out with him and the hellfire, you still feel a little awkward around him.

“Oh yeah totally, I’m gonna spend my whole break probably getting high, and doing jack shit, you know, basically the whole point of the break for me, right?” He’s all smirky and it’s so distracting when he gets like this… well when he gets like this with you. You never completely got used to the times where you’re the center of his attention.

“Yeah, right… Sounds nice…” You nod softly as you throw your backpack over your shoulder.

“It will be… if you weren’t going out of town I’d invite you over…” He’s hasn’t necessarily gone shy but he’s not as confident as he normally is and it’s throwing you off a bit. And If what he says is true, and he’d really like to invite you over, you’d take that over this trip to see a few family members who don’t necessarily give too much of a shit about you. But no. Now you have to miss out on the one thing you’ve always wanted.

“That sounds a lot better than having to go hang out with a bunch of family members who don’t even know who I am…” You chuckle slightly to yourself, and he smiles sweetly back at you and you can’t help yourself from feeling distracted from the look on his face.

“Yeah? Well that’s kinda why I came over here…” He pulls his back from his shoulder and unzips it, digging through it for a second, before pulling out a poorly wrapped box. A small bow sitting on top of it. Your brows raise in question, “Uhm… I got you something… you know, for Christmas.” He smiles.

“Oh shit, really? I- I didn’t get you anything….” You feel bad immediately, you had no idea he was gonna get you a gift, if you had you wouldn’t allow yourself to go all out for him like you always truly wanted.

“Oh no! No, don’t worry about it… it’s more like just so you don’t forget about us while you’re gone…”

“Forget about you?”

“Yeah, you know… Hellfire… me.” He smirks. To be quite frank he didn’t give a shit about Hellfire in this stance, forget about them all you want just don’t go forgetting about him.

“I’m only gonna be gone for like 2 weeks, if that.” You say with a teasing laugh, that has the soft smile reappearing on his face, and you don’t notice it, but his face heats up.

“Yeah, well here anyways…” He hands the box with a shrug.

You grab the box from him with a smile, “Do you want me to open it now?”

“Yeah, go for it…”

You pull the nicely tied bow from the top, leaving only the terribly wrapped box, and you couldn’t help but feel a swarm of butterflies. It was cute. He was cute. “Sorry, apparently I’m shit at wrapping.” He chuckled lightly.

“It’s alright.” You smile up at him, before looking back down to ripping the paper off the gift and a small box is now in front of you, Eddie grabs the wrapping paper from your hands for you, shoving it into his backpack.

You open the box and a small charm is revealed to you, it’s a small black bat. It’s beautiful, it’s everything you’ve ever wanted in a charm. It reminds you more of Eddie than the rest of the boys and you can’t help but like it more for that fact.

Eddie inspects your face as you look at the charm. He saw it at the mall while he was trying to find something for Wayne and for some reason he just needed to get it for. But damn, for some reason this small piece of metal was more expensive than he thought it needed to be.

But whatever it was for you anyways.

“You like it?” He asks, slightly nervous at the lack of words coming from you.

You look up from the charm in the box and see that smidge of fear in his face, “What? Oh my gosh! Yes, of course!” And the smile you love so much graces his face, “I love it, thank you, Eddie.”

“I’m glad you like it… thought it would go nice with all the other ones you have…” He lets his fiddle with the charm bracelet on your wrist, and you blush a tad bit at the feeling of his fingers against it.

“I really do…” You watch as the hallways drain of students and you know your time with him is limited, your bus is gonna leave soon, “My bus is about to leave… but thank you again, Eddie. It means a lot…”

“Yeah, of course… Uh, I mean I could drive you home if you want? Are you leaving today?”

“Oh, uh… No, we’re leaving tomorrow. Like ass crack of dawn.” You roll your eyes.

“Damn, first day of break and you’re still having to walk up early?” He laughs, and you can’t help but smile at the sounds.

“Right? That’s what I said, she just told me to get over it so it looks like I’m waking up early… but uh, yeah… a ride would be really nice…” I nod with a shy smile.

“Sweet, follow me…” He leads you out to his van, one you’ve seen time and time before but only ever rarely been in it. Definitely never just the two of you. He opened the van door for you and everything.

You were definitely gonna come back from break with a gift of your own for him.

[puckinghischier]

Can we talk about how hard Luke would try to be helpful while you’re on your period? I just feel like all of his efforts would be so endearing

oh this is so perfect bc my body decided to give me its own christmas present yesterday 🤩

he would be so attentive, god love him. he’d even have his own tracker on his phone so he can be prepared and make sure he always has your favorites stocked when the time comes.

the second he starts seeing the signs, he’s making your coffee or tea, whichever you prefer, in the mornings and having it waiting on you with your favorite breakfast pastry. on your worst day he’s bringing it to you in bed, heated blanket on his arm.

if he has a day off from practice or gets back early from a morning skate, he’s assuming all housework duties. he’s making sure the kitchen is clean, bringing you your favorite comfort meal from your favorite restaurant, doing the laundry, tidying up the living room. he wants to make sure you don’t have to lift a finger.

he secretly loves when you’re having a rough cramp day, if he’s honest. not because he enjoys seeing you in pain, it’s the opposite really. it breaks his heart that you have to go through this every month, knowing there’s nothing he can do to take the pain away. but he loves how clingy you get, whining every time he gets up to leave the bed or the couch, even if it’s to get something you asked him to get.

he’s constantly calling and texting you to see how you’re feeling and asking if you need anything when he’s not with you. the guys in the locker room all make fun of him for it, but he could care less. it’s the least he can do. you’re constantly taking all of this on every other week of the month, doing all you can to make his life easier, wanting him to come home and be able to relax and focus on resting before or after games. so he’ll gladly take the responsibility on for this one week a month, to show you how much he appreciates you and loves you.

you become such a homebody when you’re on your period and luke eats it up. he loves nothing more than being lazy with you, and he gets at least an entire week of it each month. you refuse any offer of plans, not wanting to have to put on ‘real’ clothes, content with living in one of luke’s oversized shirts, period panties, and a loose pair of his boxers. and luke loves coming home to the sight more than he could ever express.

you love the effort he takes each month to make sure you’re comfortable and cared for. you don’t know how you did it, but you truly hit the jackpot with him. you hear him constantly on the phone with ellen, double checking which painkillers work best for cramps and what the best remedy for period induced headaches. you crawl into a freshly made bed every night, despite rotting on the couch all day. you get baths drawn for you with soothing smells and low light, like either joining you or sitting in the floor with you and telling you all about his day. you have a never ending supply of sweets and baked goods, thanks to his bakery runs every morning.

you always ask him how you can repay him, but he always tells you the same thing. “what you do for me every day is enough. being able to do this for you is repayment in itself. this is what i’m supposed to do. it’s my job to make sure you’re comfortable, taken care of, and loved.”

of course, the words always make your hormonal self emotional, tears falling every time at how much you love him and how lucky you are he loves you. but then he ruins the moment, adding in “plus, the post-period sex is always great, so that’s a good incentive, too.” you swat at him, telling him to shut up.

“i’m just kidding, sweetheart. i love doing this for you, seriously,” he’d back track, nuzzling his face into your neck to place small kisses there.

rolling your eyes, you respond with “you might like doing this for me, but you weren’t kidding, don’t lie.”

he gives you a “welll….” look, making you laugh, forgetting all about the ache in your lower abdomen.

[cthulhus-curse]

Extra Credit

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 6,020

Warnings: Age Difference, Alluded CSA, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Smut, Teacher-Student Relationship | 18+ Minors DNI

A/N: Hopefully I scheduled this & the other fics correctly and not for the following year because I may no longer be around to fix it.

Summary: A series of snapshots of loving months alongside your professor which lead up to one of the most difficult decisions you’ve made in your life.

“Good morning, sunshine. Ready for another day of work?”

Although exhaustion ripped through your body, the sound of the woman’s voice made you smile. You learned to enjoy it through the past few weeks. Each day you woke up at what felt like the crack of dawn and went straight to work. Although it was right on campus, an office not too far from your dormitory, you weren’t used to being awake at such early hours. At least the pay was good and your boss was even better, you mused. 

“I can’t wait,” you replied flatly. Your boss, Professor Romanoff, came up to the desk you called a home ever since being hired. She held up two cups – one was her usual morning coffee and the other scalding hot chocolate topped off by a mountain of whipped cream. As always, she called you a child for picking that over anything caffeine-heavy. “Thanks for this.”

“No problem, sweetheart. Gotta keep my little assistant awake enough to get through the day,” Natasha chuckled. “Don’t worry, it won’t be heavy for you. We just have to get through grading some papers and then the rest of the shift is yours.”

The smirk remained plastered over your features as she handed you the hot chocolate before moving further in her office. Being the head of the English department at your university, Natasha got her privacy intact. It’s not like she was thrilled to work with her fellow professors anyway. 

“I heard there was a big party being hosted by your friends in the girl’s soccer team. I assume you’re planning on going?” Natasha’s tone was filled with curiosity, but never anger when she so much as alluded to your private life, specifically that having to do with one Wanda Maximoff. “I can let you go a few hours early if you need to get ready. Classes are done for the semester and you need to enjoy your college years. I’m sure Miss Maximoff would be happy to see you again. I know she means a lot to you.”

Ever since you had accepted the job as Natasha’s assistant, Wanda had given you the cold shoulder. You had spoken to her from time to time, but only when she came back to the dorm after days of being away, only to leave once again. At first you blame yourself for causing a rift in your relationship, if one could even call it that, but eventually you came to realize just how immature she was – taking a simple job offer did not mean your feelings for her changed in any way. 

“I actually haven’t seen her in awhile. She’s staying at Carol and Val’s place I think,” you shrugged while taking a sip of your drink. The way it burned its way onto your tongue and down your throat caused you to hum happily. 

“Oh? And how are you feeling about that?”

“I’m taking it pretty well. You know she’s not very fond of you and I think I pissed her off by agreeing to work for who she deems as ‘a fucking witch bitch’. It’s just childish and stupid,” you rolled your eyes at the mere idea of it. “I hate being someone’s second choice like that. She doesn’t even see how much I love her.”

Just like Wanda didn’t see you, you didn’t see Natasha. Your professor was crestfallen at the voices you threw at her. She hated seeing you in such pain, not being able to do anything about the mistreatment you received from your casual fling. The older woman cared for you, perhaps more than she led on – the mere image of seeing you in pain made bile rise up your throat before it was maintained in place. 

“Then it’s her loss. You deserve better than that, honey. You’re an amazing, beautiful, and smart woman. You don’t need to be sitting around waiting for someone to notice you. If she doesn’t like you the same way you like her, then it’s time to move on,” Natasha explained as she attempted to keep her own emotions at bay. She threw a sympathetic look your way even if you didn’t notice it. “Listen Y/N, I know we aren’t as close as you are with Miss Maximoff, but I care about you. You are by far my brightest student yet and I see so much potential in you. You don’t deserve to be thrown around like trash, only used when she gets bored with someone else. You deserve the world.”

“Yeah? And who’s gonna give me that?”

The ‘me’ went unspoken from Natasha. She simply sagged her head and stared down at the mountain of paperwork laying in her desk. It would be to no avail if she decided to work – with a brain oozing with thoughts of you, her focus disrupted. 

“How about we try something different today? We can work for a bit and then I can take you out for lunch. My treat,” Natasha said. “How does that sound? I just hate seeing you like this, sweetie.”

You thought about it for a second. There was something awfully safe about Natasha. As much as you wished to spend countless hours obsessing over Wanda, sometimes you found yourself humoring the idea of your professor. She was sweet, always protective as she huffed at the idea of you being hurt. At first you assumed it was some sort of motherly instinct, but after having caught yourself staring down her cleavage from time to time, the top buttons of her blouse always open, and she stared back with a smile, you knew something much more intimate lay beneath. 

“I’d like that,” you replied, suddenly drunk on Natasha’s presence as Wanda was left behind. 

“Good! Now time to work, hon. You don’t get paid to sit all day and look pretty,” the redhead chuckled at her own joke, suddenly feeling much more rejuvenated. “If you finish quickly, maybe we can grab some dessert as well.”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

A shudder ran down your body as hands traveled across your back. Fingernails left heavy trails in their wake, surely to be worn with the utmost pride. You hummed, eyes closed while holding still, standing there naked as the day you were born. In the dusk of the room, you let yourself be the center of attention; the center of her attention. 

“What did she do this time?” Natasha asked from behind. Her mouth was quickly upon your upper back, kissing its way along your shoulder blades. Never did she lose her tenderness when touching you. “Tell me, darling girl. Use your words.”

You didn’t know when it had begun. One day you were at work standing in front of your boss’s desk before you became trapped against it. The first time Natasha kissed you was then and there. Neither could hold back the attraction you shared for one another. No longer did you prioritize Wanda as you allowed your professor to take you. 

“I found her sleeping with Kate. She was…she was laying in my bed, Nat. I saw them and just ran away. She fucked her in my bed!” You sobbed, but didn’t allow yourself to shed tears. Not long before you had promised yourself never to cry over Wanda again. “I didn’t know who else to go to. I just thought of you and ran.”

“Oh baby, I’m so sorry. I hate that she keeps hurting you,” Natasha mumbled back as she hugged you from behind. “Don’t you dare run away this late at night again. You know how much I worry about you. I’m just a phone call away, malyshka. Always.” 

“I’m sorry,” you responded before biting down on your lip. “I promise I’ll be good from now on. Your good girl, right?”

“Darling, you are always my good girl.”

Natasha motioned you to get on the bed, your head against a pillow as your ass remained up in the air. She allowed her hands to roam over your backside, smirking as a hand went down against a cheek. It was only a soft hit. Never did Natasha wish to inflict any horrid pain over you. As her eyes noticed the faint bruises Wanda left along your skin, she huffed. 

The redhead stood over you. She carried a dildo between her legs that was attached to a harness. Similar to you, she was fully nude minus for the red briefs she wore. Strong arms reeking with muscles held you close. As she inched the toy between your legs, you let out a loud moan. 

“I don’t like how she hurts you. I know you like it, Y/N, but she leaves you looking like a piece of meat. Does she even take care of your wounds, baby? Or does she leave you like that after hitting you until you’re crying out for her to stop?” Natasha questioned, already knowing what the answer was. Ever since first seeing your body, she was the one who took care of you as a surrogate for Wanda. “I know I can’t control what you do, but honey, this isn’t right. I can’t stand seeing you like this.”

Rather than vocalize your response, you hid your face against the pillow. Natasha slid inside you softly, allowing the dildo to fill you with ease. There was a grunt that you basked upon – it was low and throaty filled with your professor’s longing desire. She used all her force to drag you into a makeshift sitting position. From then on, Natasha allowed herself to, only gently, give you the pleasure Wanda failed to gift you with. 

“I want more,” you begged, eyes rolled to the back of your head the further Nat moved inside of you. Movements were languid and sloppy. All the older woman focused on was your own pleasure, not speed or roughness. Unlike Wanda, she took her time getting to know exactly what to do and how to touch you. “Please, mommy, I need more!”

“Whatever you want, my little angel.”

Natasha did not spend time rummaging through the newfound honorific. She beamed at it, but didn’t comment on anything. Instead, she thrust her hips forth fucking you with love that Wanda never gave you. Kisses were spread all across your back. Each grunt, each little noise she made mixed with your own, made you feel in heaven. 

Hands gripped your breasts from behind. They squeezed the mounds tightly, rolling erect nipples through the fingers. As Natasha pumped the strap-on in you, your cunt dripping with juices while velvety walls hugged her tight, she brought a hand down your body. Fingertips pressed against your clit and began teasing it, flicking the bud as you screamed loudly – surely her neighbors would hear. 

“You’re doing so well for me, Y/N. Just look at how you’re taking my cock. My pretty, little girl,” Natasha moaned when hugging you tight. She nuzzled her face against your shoulder before nipping your skin. There were various hickeys left upon you, signs for Wanda to see if you ever dared return to her. Natasha knew you weren’t hers, but each second she spent with you made her crave you even more. “I bet she can’t fuck you like this, can she? That little…she can’t make you feel this good. Only I can make it better. I’m the only one that will ever keep you safe and you know this.”

When you finally came, Natasha was there to keep you close. She remained frozen in place as your orgasm shot through your body. Not even a second passed before she inched you on the bed, allowing you to rest upon the soft mattress with the dildo still inside you. 

“I never want to see you hurt again. If she ever does this to you, if you end up going back, I want you to call me when you need me. I never break a promise,” Natahsa muttered as she placed a kiss over the back of your head. “I’ll always keep you safe.”

From then on, you found yourself hesitating each time you merely humored the idea of going back to Wanda. Even if you told yourself that the relationship with Natasha was nothing more than platonic, you questioned the validity of such a statement. Every second you spend with her, you fall further for your professor. 

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

“Tell me about your family.”

The two of you had escaped the cruel Bostonian summer filled with never-ending traffic and burning skyscrapers. It was the dead-center of the season and the entire city was plagued by a mix of potential commuters for the various academic institutions or those who, for some reason, decided for it to be her vacation destination.

Natasha had taken you away to a small town across the state. It was remote, small enough so that the two of you could enjoy your life in public without the student body of the university to find you. All you had done was pack all the bags you could muster for the weekend getaway. It was peace which became well-deserved. 

You weren’t much of a fan of them, but Nat had always spoken highly of the times she took her sister to pick out peaches ever since she first learned how to drive. The two of them would escape into an orchard in the depths of Ohio and come out with their hands full with fruits. The mere memory she shared with you was enough to get you to agree to her plans. 

“Well, there’s really not much to talk about. I was adopted by Melina and Alexei,” Natasha began as though it was the most casual thing in the world to refer to her parents by their given names. “I have a sister, also adopted, named Yelena. She’s the light of my life. A bit of an asshole I must say, but she’s the one I care about most.”

“Yelena Belova? That’s your sister?” You asked with furrowed eyebrows; it was a name similar to that of a member of Wanda’s team. 

“Yes. I realize she’s friends with Miss Maximoff,” Natasha replied with apparent dismay. “As hard as I’ve tried to keep her away from that girl, the two are almost inseparable. I trust her enough to not do anything overly stupid though. Lena has always been a bit of a firecracker.”

The two of you walked hand in hand along the orchard. There was not a label to whatever you had yet, but it didn’t care. Natasha was clear when she said she would never pressure you into it. Instead, you allowed yourself to be a free agent who, at times, found yourself wishing to have something more with your professor. 

Eyes roamed over the woman’s body. Usually you saw her in professional clothes or the occasional nightgown when you stayed over at her place, but never with a pair of shorts and a loose camisole. There were sunglasses shielding Natasha’s viridescent eyes from the sun, but you had looked into them for long enough to memorize their beauty. 

You noticed how she covered her body from time to time, hands over her thighs, cowering away from the nonexistent public that dared gawk in her general direction. It hurt to see. She was the perfect image of beauty to you, but a disgusting void to herself. 

There were rare moments in which Natasha allowed you to touch her. She was a fan of studying each and every one of your favorite sweet spots, running hands across your skin before making you giggle under the drunkenness of arousal. The few times you had placed your palms upon her frame you did so in a tender manner – Nat was a porcelain doll under your touch who could break at any seconds. It merely lasted a few seconds before she pushed you off and rushed to apologize for acting out, only for you to shoot her a warm smirk and tell her there was nothing wrong with that. 

Shaking your head, you brought yourself back to the present and carried on. 

“Yeah, your sister’s always been nice to me though. She’s not as close with Wanda if that makes you feel better. I’ve mostly seen her chasing around that Kate girl. Maybe it’s an underclassmen thing,” you shrugged. “What about your parents?”

There was a pregnant pause, clear hesitation, before Natasha continued.

“Well, I never met my biological family nor did I care about seeking them out. My mom has always been amazing,” Natasha stopped for a second, her hands gliding across the peaches that she carefully eyed. “My father…not so much.”

“Why do you refer to her as mom and him as father?” came your question before you could help yourself.

It was clear her demeanor had changed. Natasha stood with her back straight, hands clasped in front of her as a means to shield herself. She only stared forth into nothingness. Her body was with you in the orchard while her mind went back to when she was a child – to when she was alone with him. 

“It makes it less personal,” she finally answered. “It’s also easier than calling him ‘the man whose wife wanted to adopt two kids he never wanted’ and then turned my childhood to shit. I grew up way too fast because of that…that durak!”

The yelp she let out was fueled with emotions you had yet to see. Natasha was rarely angry, let alone emotionally vulnerable to let you peek through her walls. Her body sagged after fighting so long being tense. You could see tears rushing down her face even with sunglasses that covered them, but knew not to make a comment.

“Nat, has he ever…?”

You didn’t want to humor such a thing. Even then, you already knew the answer given her body language and unspoken words. While you fought with the idea of potentially driving to her father’s house and beating him to a pulp, Natasha found herself glad it had been her over Yelena. If something were to happen to her sister, she would never forgive herself. Each time he came at night, the woman sacrificed herself. It was a small price to pay for her beloved sibling’s safety. 

“I don’t want to talk about it, baby,” Natasha said with a cracked voice, turning the other way to move further into the orchard. You gave her space knowing that whenever she felt comfortable enough to talk, she would. All you could do was follow along as the professor whispered again. “I’m sorry.”

But behind her broken tone, deep down, you could hear a younger Nat’s faint cry of ‘yes’. 

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

There were moments in which exhaustion overtook you during long tedious days. You could barely move a muscle and still feel as though life had been sucked out of you. Most of your summer was spent chasing around Natasha, who you remained working for throughout the following months with little to no workload. Being around the woman, doing mere iced coffee runs and chatting without a care in the world while in the office made you feel free for once in a lifetime – for the first time since you met Wanda, she was an afterthought. 

Natasha was quick to jump in and take care of you through those moments. She always acted out in small, loving ways when paying for your food, giving you rides, or merely holding your hand as the two of you walked into your next adventure. Her desperation to hold you in her arms and promise you all would be well was intense. There was love radiating from her a mile away which you were far too shortsighted to see. 

“Tell me what you need, malyshka. Come on, little darling, use your words.”

After a particularly difficult day, you found yourself safe in Natasha’s lap. There had been no overexertion of your being during that day. It had mostly been relaxing as you worked alongside your professor on a Friday, but when you received a call from Wanda midday, the woman asking you to meet up, you merely froze and broke down in the office – your ‘friend’ only reached out when she needed something from you and it had been nearly a month since you last spoke amicably. After you only hummed as a reply and ended the call, Natasha was there to break your fall. 

“Mommy’s here for you. I know today has been a really difficult day and that you’ve felt really stressed, but I don’t want you focusing on those icky thoughts. I just wish she didn’t hurt you like this,” came the older woman’s whisper as she pulled you close. The two of you had rushed out of the office even hours before Natasha liked calling it quits. Even as behind as she was with her future lesson planning, she still prioritized you before anything else. “Use your words, detka. Tell mommy how she can help.”

“I don’t even want to think,” you flatly mumbled with tears threatening to fall down your eyes. Hands gripped the professor’s clothes while your forehead lay frozen in her shoulder. With arms wrapped around your body you finally felt safe. “Please help me forget, Nat. I never want to think about her again. I just-” your words were cut short by a short while your voice was left cracked. 

“Shh it’s alright, my darling girl. Mommy’s here to make it all better.”

While holding you tight, Natasha allowed a hand to slip down your body. It snuck to your lap then between your legs. No teasing was found – she knew you how overwhelmed you were and was ready to give you whatever you wished for without question. When naked fingers went past the waistline of your sweats and underwear, landing upon your already throbbing sex, you couldn’t hold back a throaty moan. 

You quickly realized Natasha wanted to separate herself from the man who agreed to adopt her. He was rough, violent, and torturous much like how she saw Wanda, whereas your professor never failed to bring a smile to your face even as she smacked your backside harshly — she always soothed the skin with the palm of her hand before carrying on. She wanted, no, needed to break away from his grasp over her mind. Otherwise she’d end up as a battered slave of his once again. 

Fingertips brushed against your clit then studied the entirety of your slit while coating themselves in your everlasting slick. Natasha peppered your wet cheeks, filled with desolate tears, with kisses. She mumbled only the sweetest words while easing herself in you. You cried out about your sorrows, about Wanda’s mistreatment over you, while the older woman simply sat there and held you through it. 

“You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. Anyone who dares make you feel this bad is an idiot. Y/N, my love, you deserve the world,” Natasha said lovingly. She nuzzled her face against your own, foreheads pressed together with fingers knuckle-deep inside your cunt. You couldn’t even muster the enthusiasm to grind on them. Instead, you remained shaking as Natasha made it all better. “You never let yourself be treated like that by anyone, alright? Whether it’s Miss Maximoff or me, or anyone else. My darling angel should be treated as the princess she is. You’re one of a kind, honey, a perfect little bear. I never want you to forget just how valuable your existence is.”

Tears of joy were mixed with your gloomy ones. There were cries of pleasure and internal pain that Natasha never stopped supporting you through. She allowed her lips to touch down upon your own. With your orgasm approaching soon and her tender care, you were elated. 

“My sweet baby,” came Natasha’s hushed whisper. She made you come, your back arching while fingernails dug deep into the redhead’s outfit. There was a loud moan, though distant, that boomed across the room. Even as you fell apart, strong arms held you in place. Such a wondrous creature such as yourself, according to your boss, deserved to see the stars. “You did such a good job for mommy. Always my perfect girl,” she breathed out with fingers still deep inside you. “All mine.”

You swore there was a muttered ‘I love you’ thrown somewhere, but with the mix of mental and physical exhaustion raining down upon your body, you merely shrugged your shoulders and fell limp against Natasha. Although you wouldn’t admit it, your heart longed to say the words back – out of everyone in your life, you never expected to fall into the depths of love with your professor. 

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

“I don’t know why you like this show so much. It’s just senseless killing and at the end they solve everything and go home.”

Although it was supposed to be a relaxing weekend towards the start of the Fall semester, you found the mind boggling statement to fill you with feigned rage. Even as classes began, the arrangement between you and the professor carried on. You still worked for her even if there were no classes in said semester you took with you. As disappointing as that was, you began seeing more of Natasha regardless in more ways than one. 

The two of you were sitting on the couch late one Friday night. You were exhausted with your course load and Natasha cursed off the new freshmen she had to teach; they always pretended to still be in high school. A bowl of popcorn was nestled between your legs. While you watched Criminal Minds, Natasha settled for insulting it. 

“It’s fun, Romanoff. Entertaining at the very least.” you shot back with a knowing smirk. You had been the one to introduce her to various shows. Who would’ve thought that the great Professor Romanoff was living underneath a rock her whole life? 

“Wow I’ve been demoted from mommy to Romanoff. That’s sad,” Natasha laughed before grabbing a handful of popcorn. “Who’s your favorite character?”

“Probably Rossi,” came your shrug. “He’s the guy with the beard.”

“Really?” At the surprised tone your lover let out, you feigned offense. “I thought you’d like one of the girls. What about that brunette with the bangs?”

“Oh, Emily left for the Interpol. I would like JJ, but I don’t know. There’s just something cool about Rossi in this season.”

The two of you remained silent for a few seconds. It wasn't awkward, but then again, nothing was with Natasha by your side. Even if you slipped and fell in front of her, you wouldn’t feel embarrassed. The woman never judged you, instead supporting your every decision while also guiding you through life. You felt comfortable enough with her to be yourself. At times it felt as though it was you and Nat against the world. 

“Maybe you just have daddy issues,” Natasha casually offered. Moment passed before the two of you burst out laughing. Tears sprinkled in your eyes while your breath left your body. With the amusement that basked in the room, you both were giggling messes. 

“Hey!” you huffed when gaining some of your composure back and lightly slapping Natasha’s shoulder. “We both have daddy issues.”

“Fine, but I have more than you. Mostly because I’ve never actually met my real dad. Maybe he’s an asshole like Alexei,” Natasha giggled. She never failed to look radiant as ever, especially when laughing and seemingly worry-free. You had to do several double takes because the beauty that exuded from your professor was far too enthralling to break away from. As the laughter died down and you were left holding one another, her head on your shoulder while you leaned back against the couch, she spoke. “I want you to be my girlfriend, Y/N.” 

You had both agreed to keep things unofficial and yet there was that unmistakable skip of a beat your heart underwent when Natasha spoke her words. Teeth gnawed at your bottom lip nervously. There were striking green eyes which made it difficult for you to ignore the pegged comment. While your heart longed you to reply with a ‘yes’, to finally be Natasha’s forever, your mouth reacted differently. 

For the rest of the evening the two of you sat by and finished watching the show. Natasha was silent as she ghosted over her house, leaving you alone in the living room before hiding out in her bedroom. It was the first night in months that you slept in the guest room by yourself. And to your dismay, you went to sleep listening to Natasha’s quiet sobs that escaped the privacy of her bedroom. You had felt bad for Wanda when she got sad about you seeing your professor casually, but listening to the redhead’s woes was synonymous with your heart being squeezed to death. 

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

It was October when you fell in love. 

You returned to your dorm room days later behind the guise of assuming Natasha wished for you to be far away. She had barely spoken a word to you at work. Most of the time she sat by her desk with sagged shoulders, glasses perched at the edge of her nose, and glossy eyes hiding behind the frames. You desperately wished to say something, but when Wanda sweeped back into your life, the guilt ate at you until nothing was left behind. 

The Fall semester quickly rolled by. You were at the end of the month and still couldn’t sleep without seeing Natasha’s face tainted in your mind. At times when Wanda lay above you, hips thrusting with straps wrapped around them and letting out low grunts, you closed your eyes and imagined it was the older woman. The memories of her doing the same were soaked with humiliation. You had broken her heart, you knew. Never would you dare forgive yourself for having caused so much pain upon the frail, angelic woman. 

“I hate her so much,” Wanda had grumbled when you walked through campus hand-in-hand passing by a certain professor whose sight was solemnly trained on the floor. Your hand was squeezed as your eyes drifted to Natasha. As much as she seemingly hated you, all you wanted to do was run up to her, wrap her in your arms, and bed for forgiveness. Even if it would take ages, she was worth it. “Fucking bitch.”

Perhaps it was Wanda’s comment or the fact that you finally gained enough confidence through your depressive episode to take action, but that night you found yourself standing in front of Natasha’s house. Your roommate was long forgotten and for the first time in your life, you couldn’t care less about who she was fucking. All that mattered was the woman you, without admitting it, had fallen for. 

There was a desperate knock upon the hardwood door. There was furious rain which fell down upon your body. That along with the cool breeze of the night made you freeze in place. Still, you felt as though you deserved it. Even then, you’d do whatever it took for Natasha. 

“It’s 10pm on a Wednesday, Y/N. Someone better be dying,” were the first words Natasha spoke to you once the door swung open in a low grumbled voice you knew to be from when she awoke. “To what do I owe the displeasure? Did you come here to tell me how great Miss Maximoff is compared to-”

You cut her off by practically tackling Natasha into the house. Even if your body was dripping with the tears of the sky, you clung to the woman as though your life depended on it. She was clearly taken aback and yet never moved away. Instead her arms were left unmoving as you embraced her. That was good enough for you, you assumed. 

Putting your heart on the line has never been easy. You were the person who shoved her emotions so deep down that you somehow told yourself Wanda was the one for you. Although she hurt you so much, you still remained by her side. It wasn’t difficult to assume Natasha had felt something similar when you rejected her. She had spent countless months giving you the utmost love and never daring to ask for anything in return. You were always protected by her mere presence until one day you decided to throw it all away. Going to her house, you were without hope of being taken back. There was slight hesitation reeking in your chest, but as soon as you saw your former lover, you swore you fell for her once again – she would forever be worth it. 

“I’m the world’s biggest fucking idiot and I admit it. I should’ve said yes to you,” you began. Life had been tedious without Natasha even if only for a few weeks. You hated how only a cold slap in the face in the shape of one Wanda Maximoff could awaken you from such a dismal nightmare. “I hurt you so badly and I never, ever expect for you to take me back. I was an asshole. A svo-lach' if you will,” you could practically feel Natasha’s slight smirk at the mention of a Russian word she had taught you. “I miss you and I don’t think I can do this without you. It’s probably stupid since we weren’t with each other for ages. It wasn’t official and yet I can’t stop thinking about you. I want you to be my girlfriend. It’s always been you, Nat and it always will be.”

No words were spoken as the door was locked and you were dragged to the bedroom. Even if dripping with water, Natasha helped undress you. She threw you against the bed, viridescent eyes twinkling under the dead of the night before taking her rightful position over your body. There was not an area of your freezing body that she didn’t kiss her way through as sudden warmth radiated from her skin and onto yours. 

When you first kissed her after weeks of being away, you swore there were fireworks going off. Never had kissing Wanda felt even remotely good or similar. You were enthralled by the way Natasha was seemingly everywhere. Her hands drifted up your body before taking your breasts into her palms and squeezing them, nipples rolling through her fingers before being pinched – she did always have an adorable fixation on your chest. There was a sense of longing within her. The two of you hadn’t been together for far too long. During the rest of the night, you explored what was missed, holding one another as cries of pleasure were let out. 

Positions were switched from time to time. Natasha would be on top before you pushed her against the mattress and had your head disappear between her legs. There was nothing to be said. You two communicated through sweet and rough touches, connecting as one without the need for words. There was a moment when you made her squirt, legs shaking as your fingers were dug deep inside her cunt. Natasha was left wide-eyed and suddenly droopy while you lapped at the mess – even when a spent mess, she was the most beautiful woman in the universe. 

When neither of you could keep going it was already the early hours of the morning. Your bodies were sore and marked with the reddened tracks of fingernails. It was the first time in ages that you finally felt as though you belonged. Natasha was your person, she was safe, and she was home. It was then that you, while fingers trailed across the back of the woman’s hand, decided never to dare leave her again. 

“I love you,” she muttered once you were breathing raggedly, laying back on the bed with bodies intertwined and hearts aligned. You felt yourself crawl out of your skin, frowning as the words were spoken. Without even daring to turn around, you went to grab Natasha’s hand. When squeezing it, you gave her your response. 

You couldn’t say it out loud, but she knew then you loved her too.

[sleepynoons]

ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS YOU BY MARIAH CAREY– neuvillette (genshin) x afab!f!reader, nsfw / 18+

genre – fluff, smut word count – ~3,100 warnings – age gap, lingerie, oral (receiving), fingering synopsis – it's your first winter with neuvillette, and where you grew up, it's customary to celebrate by exchanging presents, eating delicious food, and spending quality time with loved ones. even though neuvillette is overwhelmed with work at the moment, you're excited to surprise him.

Neuvillette is known for his lack of personal greed, with the exception of his indisputable particular taste for certain flavors of water. Because of his asceticism, intentional or not, it had been difficult for the two of you to enter the relationship you now are in, but with the incredible aid and full support of the Melusines, the Chief Justice finally distinguished your feelings of likeness separate from others of friendliness and sociability.

To his end, though, you are known for your intensity, speech sharp with judgment, gaze watchful and vigilant, pen always in hand, scribbling away at a new manuscript or op-ed for The Steambird. Originating from Sumeru, you had been well aware of the turmoil brewing within the Akademiya, and managed to flee, even with such knowledge, to Fontaine. Here, you have been able to continue your studies from where you left off, as well as pursue your own endeavors in writing, which had long been restricted when you were a student. In fact, it was precisely due to one of your well-received yet controversial pieces in the newspaper that had landed you an opportunity to interview Neuvillette and ask him questions on questions regarding his thoughts on governance, the limitations of rule and government, and checks and balances.

You intended it to be a one-off instance, fully knowing that the Chief Justice is incredibly busy. However, you had a bad habit of losing track of time, and he is more than happy to speak in length, and your first conversation did not end on a fulfilling thought. As a result, for several months on end, you would spend two hours every three weeks with Neuvillette, which, by then, it was more than obvious you had developed intimate feelings for him.

Of course, even though you two are now a couple, the dynamics of your schedule have not differed by much. Neuvillette still has a limited amount of time to see you, though it is permissible for you to make more spontaneous visits to his office, if you are so inclined. But being the studious writer that you are, you still have not acted upon this privilege yet.

“You really should take up more of his time!”

You squint your eyes over the rim of the teacup that you are sipping from, taking several moments to think of a proper response. A part of you is still ruminating over the last draft of your manuscript, something you have been losing sleep over to make it in time for the deadline for The Streambird’s short story contest at the end of the month, but you know you should be more focused on the conversation at hand. After all, while Miss Furina is beloved by the people and is commonly seen out and about, it is still rare for her to request a private audience with someone as little of importance socially, politically, economically as you are.

“Miss Furina, I’m not sure I follow?” is the best you can manage. You take another sip as the celebrity huffs in disappointment.

“How trite! It has been so long since my last visit to the Palais Mermonia, yet even I’ve been made aware of Neuvillette’s situation! Please tell me you at least know of that!”

You open your mouth to release a hum of agreement. “Yes,” you say, “though I am not sure what his condition has to do with his schedule? Wouldn’t it be more advisable for him to go rest, instead of having me bother him?”

“You are incredibly dull, my friend.” 

You nod slowly, noting in your head that she is sassier than she lets on, easily overpowered by her stage presence and bright smile. Regardless, you are still not sure if you ae thinking on the same lines as she is.

Miss Furina gives you a few more seconds to think on your own, but seeing the lack of any recognition or realization on your face, she sighs before flinging three sugar cubes into her tea with exasperated movements. She then grumbles, “Neuvillette does not rest until the Melusines kowtow and beg. Could you not at least help save them some face and demand of him to rest a day or two?”

You watch as the sugar begins to dissolve into the tea. When instructed as such, there really is no harm in doing so. You nod again, and Furina yelps with delight, clapping her hands in a circle.

“I try my best to not get involved in his affairs anymore, but perhaps this is just my way of slowly repaying his efforts. Anyway, I need to carry on with the rest of my day. Good luck, friend, and cheers to your union!”

You realize you did not ask the more glaring questions of this conversation. You are not sure how Miss Furina knows of your relationship with the Chief Justice in the first place, or why you are the one settling the bill for lunch. You shrug as you wipe at your mouth with a tissue, thinking of ways to convince your partner on stepping away from his impending cases for at least a few hours.

The solution comes quite easily, frankly speaking. In part of your intense and serious attitude, you are also associated as being very independent, so when you send a note to Neuvillette requesting his assistance later in the evening, he replies immediately in complete compliance. That way, you did not have to risk interrupting him in the midst of his work, while still satisfying Miss Furina’s plea.

In reality, though, you only got lucky because you had happened to remember today’s date. You do not quite recall how you thought of it – it could have been a street sign or a poster that you spotted from your periphery –, but the whole point is that this day used to be very important to you as you grew up. Though you are not upset or even the slightest bit nostalgic, you think it is the perfect excuse to save your partner from undue stress and cacophony.

Thus, you make your way to several shops before returning home with two small boxes and a bag in your hands. There are a few more hours before Neuvillette is to arrive, so you shuffle all of the scattered loose leaf paper into haphazard stacks and stuff your ballpoint pens into your drawers to make room on your desk to wrap the presents you bought.

–

When your partner comes, it is already dark, overcast with dense clouds that pour incessantly. He knocks at your door just as you are stoking the flames in your fireplace, and you pace over to let him in.

You open the door to a very concerned Chief Justice.

“Are you alright?” are his first words.

You cannot help but feel guilty at deceiving your partner.

You place a hand on his arm, which he returns with the same gesture, and you rub soothing circles into the fabric of his coat. “Yes, I managed to figure it out.”

“Are you sure you don’t need me to revise your draft? I am more than willing to, might you think my input may be necessary.”

With gentle tugs, you lead him to your rounded dining table for two, where there are already steaming mugs of tea settling on their matching saucers, and the two of you take your usual seats across from each other.

You feel no need to keep up your lie. “My sincere apologies, Neuvillette, but there’s actually no manuscript you need to help with. The Melusines had specifically asked of me to find a way to extract you from your work, lest you become glued to your chair.” You leave out any mentions of Miss Furina out of respect for her privacy.

“Ah, I see.”

You observe his face, careful for even the faintest of shifts or twitches to anticipate his reactions. But Neuvillette’s impartiality should never be underestimated, and his expression does not change at all.

“Are you upset?” you ask.

He glances at you, having previously been staring into his cup. “Uh, no, I… I suppose I have been dealing with a torrent of work. I apologize for having concerned all of you.”

You set your hands out, and Neuvillette holds them in his palms. You admire the feel of his gloves against your bare skin and watch as he thumbs over your calloused fingers.

You finally manage to hum, “No worries. Though, I have a few things I want to give you, so your visit’s not entirely a waste.”

His grip tightens. “It is never a waste. Forgive me, for neglecting us.”

You chuckle before slipping your hands out of his hold, and patter over to the wrapped presents that sit on the floor to the side of the fireplace.

“Here,” you say, as you set the gifts in front of him.

“What occasion are these for?” he asks, eyes glimmering with fascination. You have always loved Neuvillette’s eyes. While his face may be as set as stone, at times, you can tell fragments of his thoughts by the color and brightness in his eyes.

You have not told him much about your upbringing, and you do not feel inclined to dwell on it tonight either. So, in the briefest way possible, you explain, “When I was growing up, every year on this day, the community I was a part of would exchange gifts. There was also a large feast, with plenty to eat and drink.” You give a light shrug before finishing, “I just thought it would be nice to share a bit of my past with you.”

“I understand,” he replies, eyes and tone soft and gentle. “I’m afraid your presents will have to wait for next year.”

You know time means nothing to him, but his words still melt the rough, unromantic edges within you. You smile to yourself as you watch him unwrap the pen and bejeweled brooch you had bought him. Finally, when he moves onto the bag, you laugh as you see him tear away his gaze before shakily handing you the box from inside.

“This, um, seems to be yours.”

You release an intrigued noise before nudging the box back toward him. “It is still a present for you.”

“How so?” Neuvillette’s cheeks and ears are tinged with a warm red, and you are sure it is not solely because of the fire.

You get up from your chair, round over to his side, and stand beside him. “I forgot to mention,” you tease, “but this day’s particularly special for couples. They celebrate together, spend time together, and… need I say more?”

You and Neuvillette have slept together before, though the number does not exceed single digits despite the two of you having been together for a little less than a year. Such occurrences are usually a result of your or his feverish desires exceeding a certain boiling point, and you suppose this time, you are the insatiable one.

“Look inside,” you instruct with a flick of your chin. “Do you like it?”

Folded neatly inside the box is a red satin tank top and sleep shorts. The color shines brilliantly under the flickering of the flames, and you appreciate the contrast of it against the purple and indigo of Neuvillette’s eyes.

“Yes, o-of course. I’m sure it suits you well,” he mumbles, blush flushing deeper and deeper with every passing second.

You pat his shoulder. “Perfect. I’ll change in the bathroom, so wait for me on the bed.”

If it was really up to you, you would not even change in a separate room. But, for the sake of your easily flustered partner, you show him some mercy and grant him no more than two minutes of reprieve. As Neuvillette said, the set does fit you, in ways other than just size, and you are glad you decided to go the extra length to splurge on lingerie, as it is also a treat for yourself.

When you enter your bedroom, barely concealing the skip in your step, you see Neuvillette seated on the corner of your bed, unmoving. You doubt he has barely even breathed since you left him alone.

“Neuvillette?”

His head shoots up at your call of his name, but he fails to respond. His eyes, which were staring holes into the ground a mere second ago, are now drinking in the sight of you in your new clothes. They linger at the exposure of your neck and collarbones, the outline of your breasts, the flare of the top around your waist, and the contrast of the shorts’ red sheen against the suppleness of your thighs. You find yourself almost feeling shy at his undivided attention, and you rock on your feet, waiting for him to make a move.

Neuvillette only breaks out of his reverie once he has looked over your entirety. “You look mesmerizing,” he praises. He makes it sound like a truth, a new law he has amended into Fontaine’s books, something everyone should know and accept by now. It is your turn to shudder and lose your composure at his words, so you do not even try to respond, and instead, walk over to stand in front of him.

However, he quickly switches your positions, gliding you over to sit and him kneeling between your knees. He presses fleeting kisses on the inners of your knees, before slowly traversing up the length of your right thigh, nuzzling and pressing and licking. You squirm as he sucks on your skin, and gasp at every mark he leaves.

It is unbelievable, you think. Back in Sumeru, you were constantly teased, others mocking and prophesying that you will forever spend this special day alone. Yet, you are grown now, and being lavished and indulged by another, by your lover.

You try your best not to muss Neuvillette’s hair, so you clutch onto his shoulders. Digging your fingernails into the white silk of his shirt, you barely contain your whimpers as your partner begins to approach the heat emanating between your legs. You jump once you feel him press the pad of a finger against your hole, and cannot help but moan as he kisses your clit, the satin of the shorts doing nothing to dull the sensations.

Though Neuvillette’s actions are restrained, limited to only kitten licks and playful flicks with his fingertip, your pleasure compounds at an exceptional rate. By the time he lifts you up to slide your shorts off, you have already stained much of the fabric and are continuing to leak, wetness dripping down your inner thighs and the bottom of your ass.

“Absolutely decadent,” he mumbles, gazing with much adoration and intensity at the way your legs shake and your clit trembles.

Before you can say anything, he takes your breath away as his lips close around your sensitive bud. He taps and laves his tongue against the hood, pressure just enough to choke you from pleasurable stimulation. His hands are wrapped tightly around your thighs, to hold them in place, as well as bite his nails into your skin, although you have no idea when he took his gloves off.

“Neuvillette,” you breathe out. He hums around your clit with a more forceful suck, and you reel over, hunching over his head, hands sliding down his back and crumping his shirt within your grasp. Your partner understands your reaction as a subconscious plea to move on, and so, he licks his way down to your hole. He can feel it open and close around nothing, and it is only then that he is made aware of how painfully hard he is.

You grit out, “More – please.”

He knows he cannot further deny you. He laps at your entrance, entranced by your taste, before finally pushing his tongue in.

You are warm, sweet, incredibly tight. He pulls back, draws a large breath, and dives back in, pushing himself as far in as he can. Since the very beginning, you have been very sensitive, always reacting to even the lightest and briefest of touches, so Neuvillette knows your body must be overwhelmed by everything he is doing to you. He knows this is the case when he leans back on his heels for a quick rest, and sees your face, sweat tracing your hairline and eyes glazed over. For some reason, Neuvillette finds himself growing even larger, even harder, at the sight, and he distracts himself by returning to his place between your legs.

This time, he goes faster, accompanying his tonguing with circles of his finger around your clit. He can also hear you muffling your noises with the back of your hand.

“Please, let me hear you,” he says, between movements of his mouth and hand. “I need to know that you are feeling good.”

You are so used to practicing restraint and discipline, so you hesitate at first. But when Neuvillette presses your clit in that exact way you like and tongues you so deeply, you moan out loud, giving in regardless of your own wishes. And because he is incredible, precise, with analyzing your needs, he keeps doing it, giving you what you crave and desire over and over and over again, until you are brought over the edge.

Neuvillette groans as your hole flutters around his tongue, more of your taste filling his mouth, and he drinks in whatever he can. At this point, you are holding his head against your body, almost bucking your hips to close whatever distance is left, so that you can extend your high.

By the time the two of you peel apart from each other, you are about to unzip his pants before you notice a stain. You look at Neuvillette’s face, only to find him with a flushed, euphoric expression, and you feel surprise and delight wash over you.

“We will continue tomorrow morning, if that is alright with you,” he says, a little out of breath. You, too, are still heaving, so you nod in agreement.

Back at home, this day was spent with several people under a clear night. You would all be gossiping, dancing, discussing, and by the end of it, you would exchange gifts, though for most of it, you were left to your own devices, reading storybooks in whatever dimly lit corner you could find. This time around, though it is raining outside and there is no one else besides you and Neuvillette, you think this is the best celebration you could ever have. You would not wish for anything else, as long as you have him.

winter event masterlist

[sanjisleggy]

the warlord’s wife (mihawk x reader)

req: Oh if you want to you should do a Mihawk x reader (fem or gn) that's hurt comfort where the reader is like the exact opposite of him. Like she is usually so happy and sweet and kind. And something happens and maybe she starts to worry that she is too much for Mihawk because he is just someone who is quiet and to himself all the time and she thinks she is constantly bothering him

a/n: ahhh my first attempt at writing for Mihawk! a much shorter fic compared to my others but i hope you guys like it nonetheless :3c i’d love to write longer fics for him if anyone has any ideas yippee

contents: rude people (lol), insecure!fem!reader, simp!Mihawk, a tiny bit of angst, some hurt/comfort, fluff :3c

wc. 1k

wanna be on my taglist?

—

i. 

standing outside the large ornate doors, you feel your face burn with embarrassment as you contemplate simply going to the docks to wait out by the hitsugibune until the gala ends. as tempting as escaping from the horrific social situation sounds right now, your pride refuses to let you bow your head in defeat.

”i don’t know how else to convince you,” you try to appeal to the two marines standing guard outside the venue entrance once more, “if you could just ask him to verify my identity—”

”i’m sorry, miss,” the larger man of the two cuts you off with a less than apologetic look. “there’s just no reason why we should do as you say. if we listened to every man or woman demanding to go in, we’d lose our heads.”

your indignance and frustration quickly bubbles into pure anger and for a brief moment you lament having left your katana back at the castle. you bite your tongue, unable to think of any other way to convince the marine officers that you are, indeed, a guest who’d been invited to the gala because you’re literally one of the Warlords’ wives.

“besides,” the other officer chips in unprompted, “no offence but you don’t seem like the type of woman someone like Dracule Mihawk would marry.” his partner fails to hold back a scoff but quickly attempts to return his expression back into one of neutral professionalism.

clenching your fists by your sides, you try your very hardest to keep your eyes from tearing up for the second time tonight. normally such a comment wouldn’t phase you—years of being Mihawk’s partner has done wonders for thickening your skin—right now, though, you can’t help but feel a familiar sharp stinging sensation pierce through your chest.

of all the snarky comments you marine dogs decide to make, why this one?

ii.

it had only been an hour into the gala and already you regretted begging your husband, just weeks prior, to consider attending with you as his guest. the event was a grand one held by the marines every year to “show their appreciation” towards their allies, which included the Seven Warlords; and every year the invite would show up at your doorstep only to be promptly thrown out by your introverted husband.

”can we please go? i miss going for social events like these.” you’d pleaded that night in bed, hugging his arm tightly as you nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck—a move he liked to call ‘playing dirty. “just this once to see what it’s like, then i’ll never ask again.”

both you and Mihawk knew it was a lie but the swordsman was nothing if not a simp for you so he begrudgingly agreed.

”care to elaborate why?” you challenge, taking the two marines aback if their surprised expressions are anything to go by. clearly not used to ‘civilians’ talking back to them, they take a moment to gather their thoughts—and at least have enough decency to look embarrassed at being called out.

”w-well—”

“your wife is such a chatterbox! it’s a wonder you’ve tolerated her for as long as you have!”

”your husband is whom? forgive me, i find that hard to believe.”

”i thought he was some kind of recluse?”

”maybe it was an arranged marriage. how scandalous.”

”i pity the poor man. all my husband does is talk and it drives me insane some days.”

”darling?” a deep familiar voice calls out from behind you, accompanied by the sound of heeled shoes clicking against stone. before you can turn around, you feel his warm hand rest itself on your shoulder, the comforting heat of his body engulfing you from behind. “i’ve been looking for you.”

the blood drains from both the marine officers’ faces, their eyes widening in shock as it dawns on them what a mistake they’ve just made. as though pleading for mercy, the eyes of the larger man flickers in your direction, almost screaming: “please, i’m too young to die.”

”were these men giving you trouble?” Mihawk probes gently, using his other hand to tilt your head in his direction. the moment his eyes meet your own and widen ever so slightly, you know there’s no point lying. as much as you’ve been able to hold back your tears of frustration well enough to fool the average man, your husband is anything but average.

mouths still agape, the marine officers can do nothing but watch as the notorious swordsman proceeds to cup your face with his right hand in a manner so tender they can’t help but suspect he’s an imposter. unbothered by the unbelieving stares sent his way, Mihawk brushes his thumb under your eye as though to confirm his suspicion.

”they were but it’s okay now,” you finally reply, placing your hand over his to hold it in place as you relish in the comforting warmth of his palm.

”what did you do to my wife?” he disregards your subtle plea for peacemaking. he knows you well enough to infer that you simply don’t want him to make a scene for the sake of maintaining his public image. 

Mihawk’s aware of how much you actually enjoy silently watching him defend your pride and honour; and he also knows from experience how happily you’ll reward him with your honeyed words and sweet touches later tonight, when it’s just the two of you alone together. it concerns him, slightly, if he were to be honest, how easily you have him wrapped around your finger—but that’s something to think about another day. 

the marines stutter and stammer but nothing coherent leaves their lips, all linguistic ability fading into nothing under the angered gaze of the Warlord.

”be thankful my beloved is as kind as she is,” the swordsman warns, all the while maintaining his hardened glare. “know that had she not vouched for you two, i’d have no problem killing you right where you stand.”

—

taglist: @irethepotato @i-reblog-fics-i-like @grierpilots

[massivedrickhead]

merry christmas, merry christmas (but i think i’ll miss this one this year)

Words: 1907

Summary: Chloe isn’t going home for Christmas, and her aim is to make it to the 25th without the Bellas finding out.

Notes: Merry Pitchmas @psychoteacher90, I’m your secret santa! So, confession time - I misread the initial message and thought you’d said you like a little angst sprinkled in with your fluff, but after I re-read it last night I realised it said you could tolerate it… I hope you like this anyway, and next year I’m definitely going to read the message more than once 🙈

Read on AO3

@merry-pitchmas

-

“Hey, when are you going home for Christmas?”

The question caught Chloe off guard. Not because she wasn’t expecting it, she just wasn’t expecting it so early into December. 

She thought she’d have more time to come up with an answer. A lie that wouldn’t result in further questions. 

But she didn’t get that time. Beca asked her on the first weekend of December while eating toast with one hand and scrolling through her phone with the other. 

“Oh, I dunno yet,” Chloe replied, trying to sound casual. “Why?”

Beca shrugged. “Just wondering.” 

Chloe thought about maybe telling her the truth. The Bellas’ house was quiet for once, with the rest of the girls either still in bed, or out, or home for the weekend. 

Now would be as good a time as any. 

She opened her mouth to speak but shut it just as quickly. 

No, not now. 

Besides, she didn’t usually go home until a few days before Christmas Eve. Anything could happen between now and then. 

-

Beca asked again a few weeks later, a scowl on her face as she squinted at her phone.

“Do you know when you’re leaving for Christmas yet?” She asked. “I’m trying to organise the Bella’s Christmas party, and no one is free on the same night. Since when were a capella nerds so popular?”

Chloe couldn’t help but smile and roll her eyes as she pulled Beca’s phone out of her hand. 

“You’ll give yourself a headache,” she said, looking down at their shared calendar. Chloe had completely forgotten all about their Christmas party, which was especially surprising since she was the one who had organised it for the past few years.

It was true, there was no night that was free. Each square ticking down to December 25th contained a coloured dot representing at least one of the Bellas and their plan for that day.

Chloe noticed her own baby blue dot was the only one absent. There were no Christmas market trips, or festive nights out with classmates, or neighbourhood carolling. 

She hadn’t been feeling particularly Christmassy this year.

“I guess we just skip it this year,” Chloe said, handing Beca back her phone.

Beca raised her eyebrows. “Skip it?”

Chloe shrugged. “I don’t see any other option, everyone is busy.”

Beca shook her head and looked back at her phone. “You love the Christmas party. I’ll figure it out. Even if we have it at 2 pm on a Tuesday.”

“I wouldn’t stress about it,” Chloe said, standing up from the sofa and grabbing their dishes from the coffee table. “It isn’t important.”

“You didn’t answer my question by the way,” Beca asked, looking up from her phone as Chloe stood. “When are you going to your parents?”

I’m not. 

“I don’t know yet.”

-

Their Christmas party never happened, but Chloe didn’t notice. Or, at least, she pretended not to.

She had been trying to spend the majority of her December trying to pretend that the holiday didn’t exist.

When the Bellas had decorated the tree, Chloe had been hiding in the library.

When they made gingerbread houses, she went to the gym.

When they got drunk on Amy’s mulled wine, she’d been studying in her room, ignoring Beca’s repeated attempts to get her to join them.

For the amount of time Chloe had spent trying to avoid Christmas, Beca had spent double trying to get her involved.

Chloe couldn’t blame her, she knew she wasn’t herself, but she still couldn’t bring herself to tell Beca the truth. 

It would start a much bigger conversation that Chloe wasn’t ready for. One she’d never intended on having in the first place.

She kept it buried and tried to avoid Beca as much as she could for the next couple of days.

-

“Are you sure you don’t need a ride to the airport?” Beca asked on the 23rd. 

“I’m sure,” Chloe said. “You were supposed to leave for your Dad’s like 20 minutes ago, you’ll be late.”

Beca looked at her watch but still dithered. “You’ll text me when you land?”

“Yes,” Chloe said. “Get out of here already.”

“Jeez, Merry Christmas to you too,” Beca said, giving Chloe a hug. 

“Merry Christmas,” Chloe replied, trying not to hold on too tightly. 

She needed Beca to leave, because if she didn’t she might cry.

“See you next year, I guess,” Beca said, ending their hug and grabbing her keys from the counter. 

“Drive safe,” Chloe said.

Beca raised a hand in farewell before closing their door behind her. 

Chloe’s tears fell quickly after.

She picked up her suitcase and carried it back to her room before dumping out the contents on her floor. 

Her plan had worked. 

She would make it through Christmas without anyone finding out she’d spent it alone. Without anyone finding out why she’d spent it alone. 

-

Later that night there was a knock at the door which Chloe assumed was the pizza she’d ordered. 

She had assumed wrong.

Beca was standing on their doorstep, hands shoved into her pockets because she’d forgotten her gloves.

Chloe could only stare back, mouth slightly agape. She swallowed. She could still get out of this. 

“Forget your keys or something?”

“You aren’t going to Florida.” It wasn’t a question, and Chloe couldn’t argue. She was standing there in her pyjamas after all. Her hair up in a towel, face scrubbed of makeup. It was hours after her supposed flight was supposed to have taken off.

“What are you doing here?” Chloe asked, her shoulders dropping. 

“I could ask you the same question.”

Chloe sighed and stood aside so Beca could come in. “Fine,” she said. “I’m not going to Florida. Your turn to answer.”

Beca tilted her head as if confused. “I came here for you,” she said. “You aren’t spending Christmas on your own.” Again, it wasn’t a question.

“Beca-”

“Look, you’ve been distant and sad since Thanksgiving, and I’m guessing it has something to do with you not going home for Christmas,” Beca said. “And you don’t have to tell me about it if you don’t want to - and I’m assuming you don’t otherwise you’d have said something before now - but just because you aren’t going home, doesn’t mean you have to spend Christmas alone.”

Chloe opened her mouth to speak, but she was cut off by another knock on the door, and this time it was the pizza guy.

“I’m fine,” Chloe said, returning from the door with her pizza. “I have pizza, and trashy movies, and wine. I’ve spent plenty of days by myself before, and this one won’t be any different. It’s just a day, it doesn’t mean anything.”

“I don’t think you believe that,” Beca said. “But, whatever, if you don’t want to spend it with me that’s fine.” Beca pulled out her phone. “But you also have an invite from Jessica to spend it with her family, as well as Ashley, Flo, Legacy, Cynthia Rose, Amy, and Stacie also told me to tell you you could crash her and Aubrey’s Christmas plans. Also Lily offered too, but she also mentioned something about needing a sacrificial lamb, so maybe don’t go to her place.”

Chloe laughed and shook her head, tears burning her eyes.

“Even if you can’t go back to Florida, you can still spend Christmas with your family. Maybe not the one you were born into, but a one that loves you.”

“I don’t want to impose-”

“Chloe I had barely finished typing out my message to them, and all the Bellas were falling over themselves to invite you to their homes. You’re not an imposition.”

“And you?”

“I said I had first dibs,” Beca said. “Plus, this way I’ll get to give you your present. I pulled your name in Secret Santa this year.”

“I didn’t do Secret Santa,” Chloe responded, confused.

“Fine, I pulled Legacy but I have a gift for you anyway.” Beca took hold of Chloe’s hands. “Come on,” she said. “Sheila bought a turkey that’s way too big, my dad needs someone to talk about books with, and I… I want to spend Christmas with you.”

Chloe pulled her teeth across her bottom lip before she eventually nodded her head. 

They ate the pizza while Chloe changed and packed, and then they piled into the car for the short drive to Beca’s dad’s house.

“How did you know that I wasn’t going home?”

“Your flight didn’t exist,” Beca replied. “And I just had a feeling that there was something you weren’t telling me. You haven’t been yourself.”

“I know,” Chloe said. “I’m sorry I’ve been so… Well, you know. I just didn’t want to get into it.”

“You still don’t have to if you don’t want to. But I’m here to listen if you do.”

Chloe didn’t respond right away. She rested her head against the passenger window and watched the flurry of snow begin to fall. 

“I had a fight with my parents at Thanksgiving,” Chloe said.

Beca turned down the music, but didn’t interrupt.

“Things have been tense with them for a while,” Chloe said. “It all sort of boiled over. They overheard me on the phone to Aubrey… Heard me talk about stuff they didn’t know about me and… Yeah. A lot of yelling later and I was, I mean disowned sounds so serious but I guess… I guess that’s what it was.” 

Chloe tried to swallow the lump in her throat but it wouldn’t budge. 

She recognised where they were, and knew they’d be entering Beca’s neighbourhood soon. She wanted to pull herself together before then.

“Jesus,” Beca said, her voice just above a whisper. “I mean unless you were confessing to multiple murders on the phone to Aubrey, I don’t-”

“I was telling her about someone I like. About… About a girl I like.”

“Oh,” Beca said, glancing across the car. “They didn’t know?”

“No,” Chloe said. 

“I’m really sorry, Chloe. You… You don’t deserve that. And they don’t deserve you.”

Chloe sniffed. “I know.” They pulled into Beca’s drive but neither made a move to get out of the car. Chloe could see the glow of Christmas lights through the window, and she felt a pang of homesickness mixed with a rush of gratitude for Beca. “Thank you for coming back for me.”

“I always will,” Beca said. “I hope you know how loved you are, Chloe.”

They sat in silence for a little while longer before Beca spoke again. “So, there’s a girl you like, huh? Anyone I know?”

Chloe laughed. “You know, considering you were able to figure out I lied about going to Florida, you can be a little oblivious sometimes.”

“It’s that obvious? It can’t be Stacie or Aubrey, or Jessica or Ashley. Is it Emily? Or Cynth-”

Beca’s voice died in her throat as Chloe pressed their lips together.

“Oh.”

“I get it if you don-”

It was Chloe’s turn to be cut off as Beca pulled her back into a kiss. 

They didn’t break apart until they heard the front door of the house being pulled open. 

Light from the hall spilled out into the driveway.

Beca’s Dad sighed. “Sheila, I owe you 20 bucks!” He shouted before shutting the door again.

Chloe giggled, and Beca felt it in her chest.

“I guess we should go inside,” Chloe said.

“I guess we should. Merry Christmas, Chloe.”

“Merry Christmas, Beca.”

They kissed again.

[highonmarvel]

Heyy love your work. I wanted to make a request for Bucky Barne was thinking something like reader goes to his house for Christmas but then he forcefully drugs her with a syringe and she's held captive. But he's overal nice enough. He'd let her kick or scream or fight back. But then one day he lets her out of the basement or wherever he keeps her and she tries to escape and succeeds to some degree He manages to catch her and he snaps, gets angry and punishes her and she's scared cuz he snapped.

Winter

i love this! i’m sorry this isn’t proofread—i’m late as is and needed to get this out into the world so at least some people can read this as they lie in bed and have it be relevant. also, i’m so sorry, i left out the syringe bit because i got too into the plot i conjured up with the food coma here, sorry, sweetheart, but please, send another request if you really want to see it get done. let me know your thoughts, also to my sister @thehydraethereal. with that out of the way:

Bucky Barnes: A Christmas dinner opens your eyes to a new type of Winter.

additional content warnings here!

CONTENT WARNING, PLEASE READ: This piece includes graphic depictions of torture. Seriously, this is really dark; do not proceed if you are not comfortable with explicit descriptions of physical violence. This is your warning. This is fucking dark. I can not stress this enough. I am fucked up.

It wasn’t that you were technically averse to relationships or had commitment issues, you just feel like at this point in your life a solid relationship wasn’t really going to work. You had been travelling to the other side of the country quite a bit to take care of your sister, but this Christmas, your parents went down, so you didn’t really have an excuse to bail when Bucky invited you to dinner.

You don’t think you’re technically dating him–you don’t ever recall you or him asking the other to be their partner–but you’ve at least been going out with him for a few months. Guess you’d have to face him at some point; it’s been nearly three weeks since he had suggested you live together, which had caught you completely off-guard. You had managed to side-step the conversation at the time before making up some bullshit excuse to leave, and you haven’t had the courage to face him since.

Pulling into Bucky’s driveway always makes you feel a little uneasy; he doesn’t live like a hermit or overly secluded, but for some reason the houses in this suburb seem just a little too far apart for comfort–no one really has ‘neighbours.’

The scent of a very well-cooked meal carries right up to the front door, making you take a deep whiff before knocking.

“Hi, honey,” Bucky answers the door, leaning down to give you a kiss on the cheek.

“God, I’m practically drooling out here,” you say, and Bucky laughs as he steps out of the way and allows you in. “How long have you been standing?”

“Ah, a few hours,” he admits, sheepishly, watching you hang your coat up and rubbing the back of his neck when you raise your eyebrows at him.

“But it’s just the two of us, no?” you question as you lead him into the kitchen (maybe you being so casual in his home gave him the impression you’d like to move in with him).

“Yeah,” he replies, tailing you. “But I realised I don’t really know what you like and I panicked a bit.”

You giggle and that seems to ease his apparent embarrassment, allowing him to let out a breathless laugh as he moves into the kitchen, standing on the other side of the island as you settle on a stool.

“How have you been?” he inquires as he pours you a glass of wine, not making eye contact.

“Alright,” you reply, watching the red liquid slosh into the glass. “Glad to have some time off.”

“How’s your sister?”

You sigh and mouth a thank you to him as he slides the glass towards you. After a sip, you look up at him. “Better, I think, and she’s only allowed two visitors at a time��my parents really wanted to see her so I let them for Christmas, they don’t really get a chance otherwise.”

He hums in understanding as he puts on pink oven mitts and crouches down.

“Are you disappointed?” he asks loudly as he pulls a dish out of the oven.

You shrug. “I’d have liked to go, but I’m not all that sad about it. I don’t have much going for me in New York, so I was worried I’d be bored, but I’m having a good time.

“You just got here!” He laughs as he rises with a turkey.

“I know, but wine.” You raise your glass to him and peer into the ceramic dish. “Turkey?” you ask, which he responds to with a hum of affirmation.

“I don’t really like it, not sure if you do.”

“I like it. I would have thought you patriots like Thanksgiving stuff, though.”

You help him set up a few dishes across a small dining table and sit down.

“This was really sweet, Bucky.” You smile, tone sincere and nearly sappy as he cuts you a large leg of turkey. “Doesn’t this stuff make you sleepy?” you joke, and it takes him just a beat too long to chuckle.

“I think that’s a myth, actually,” he responds as he sits back down across from you.

“Really?” you raise your eyebrows as you dig your knife and fork into the leg. “I could have sworn...”

“Is it good?” he asks, watching you carefully, and with a kind of interest that makes you slightly uneasy, but you can’t deny it’s heavenly. You nod enthusiastically and point to the meat.

“God, this is great! You’d swear there was cocaine in here or something.”

Something lights in his eyes for a second, a spark you mistake for happiness. Bucky has always loved nothing more than to see you happy and relaxed: one of the reasons you were so drawn to him was his genuine desire to not only make you as happy as possible, but to appreciate that joy. Sometimes you got the impression making you happy pleased him almost as much as it pleased you, if not more. And it was times like these you felt bad you weren’t really able to make a commitment to him. He never seemed to mind it all too much, but you can tell it’s something he wants, and you almost feel like you’re taking advantage of his affection–but he knows, and you know, and if he isn’t happy with this arrangement, surely he’d say something.

But Bucky has to bite back the retort, “Well, not that drug.”

After a hearty meal you only put down when you feel you’re genuinely on the verge of passing out, you push away your plate. “Woo! I don’t know how I’m ever gonna work that off. I think I’ve gained, like, 10.”

“You're perfect the way you are,” Bucky says, leaning down to press his lips to your cheek as he clears the table.

You close your eyes and hum in delight, but you find it a little hard to open them again. When you manage to pry your eyes open again, it’s not much, still looking at the table through droopy lids. You stand and sway, rattling your chair as you grapple the table for support.

“Are you okay?” Bucky asks as he reappears in your line of sight, brows furrowed in concern.

“Yeah,” you respond, squeezing your eyes shut and ripping them open again. “But I really should get going.”

“Get going?” he repeats, moving to your side for support as you stumble forward. “I don’t think you should drive right now.”

But you dismiss him with a wave of your hand, pushing off of him to stand up straight. You think you say, “I’m fine. I’ll call you.” but you can’t really make out the words through the slight slurring.

“Lie down,” he offers gently, taking a step towards his bedroom.

“No…” you tear your arm free of his grasp. You had spent the night with him before, but for a reason you can’t figure out, this time, something is screaming at you to decline.

“Really, darling, you need to,” he insists, his voice having dropped to a low murmur. He takes a step forward and you instinctively take a step back, feeling a little guilty when he stops dead in his tracks and something like hurt flashes across his features. You know something that makes Bucky wince is when he feels someone is afraid of him, and you can only imagine how he must feel now if you’re the one displaying apprehension.

You shake your head and turn away from him to the doorway.

“Hey...” You startle as you feel his grip on your forearm, gentle, but firm. “You’re not leaving.” The words are said in a sincerely concerned way, but the fact the statement came off as more of a command than a suggestion really triggers something in you.

“Bucky...” you groan as you uselessly try to pull away, feeling weaker than you otherwise would, even against him.

He doesn’t have to give too sharp of a tug to make you stumble into his arms, his hold on you steady, and, at any other time, safe, but now it feels more certain, somehow, almost possessive. You try to protest but you’re practically babbling incoherently under him, head lolled to the side as he adjusts his grip from under your arms to pick you up bridal style.

“Just lie down for a second...”

And you’re too out of it to notice he’s passed his bedroom door.

***

It’s difficult to open your eyes again, your lashes stuck together as you turn your head over. When vision slowly comes back to you, you’re met with a midcentury wooden bedside table you don’t recognise. You prop yourself up on your forearm and squint into the room, looking for any signs of familiarity, and the only thing you recognise is the thing you dread.

“What…” you begin to mutter, and Bucky looks up from the book he’s reading with a smile.

“You’re up.” He stands from the chair positioned by ‘your’ (this isn’t your bed) beside and moves to sit on the edge, placing a hand to your forehead. “How’re you feeling?”

You weakly slap his hand away as you start to really wake up and realise what’s going on.

“I’m not… this isn’t… what…” you can’t really find the words to ask the questions you need answers to.

“It’s your Christmas present!” he says with a grin, standing to make a grand gesture with his arms, out to the room. I’ve got your favourite books here, I remember you telling me you used to want a four poster princess bed.” He points to the ceiling and sure enough, pretty curtains hang over your head. “But if you don’t like it I can change it.” He shrugs and stands somewhat nervously as he waits for you to react.

“What… the fuck.”

He tsks and swings his arms back and forth, rocking on his heels.

“I set it up for you a few weeks ago, I didn’t know if you’d be comfortable sleeping with me every night, I know you like your space.”

“Are you out of your mind!?” You throw the sheets off of you and manage to stand, even though your head feels a little heavy.

He sighs and steps forward. “I know it feels like–”

“Oh, you know what it feels like? You know what it feels like to be ostensibly kidnapped by your boyfriend?”

He blushes. “So I am your boyfriend.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you!?” You throw a pillow at him (ineffective but it was the nearest thing) which he catches with ease and turns over to reveal an embroidered flower. “I made this,” he says, proudly.

“What the fuck!?” you shriek as you throw another pillow at him, this one he dodges easily.

You’ve never seen him like this, nearly giddy and, in this context, borderline delusional. It makes you grip onto your hair and bunch your fingers into the locks. “Oh, my god, you’re insane!”

“I’m not the one yelling and throwing things,” he mutters, and your eyes snap up to his.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you begin, exasperated. “I’m so fucking sorry I don’t react well to crimes committed against me.”

“You came into my house.”

“Yes, but I didn’t come into this room! Do you really expect me to believe I can just leave anytime? That that door isn’t locked. You think I’m fucking stupid?”

He gently tosses the pillow back onto the bed and winces. “I was hoping you wouldn’t.”

“Bucky,” you begin, carefully, voice dangerously low as you step up to him. “I don’t know what in god’s name has gotten into you, but I’m not having it. I’m leaving.”

“Sweetheart, you really don’t intimidate me.” And the way he says it with such sincere pity makes you shove at his chest. He doesn’t stumble, but he takes a step back for your benefit.

You match his step and poke your finger in his chest, glaring up at him with more fury than you thought you had and trying your hardest not to wrap your hand around his throat. What really pisses you off is his patronising speech; you can tell he genuinely thinks he’s doing good, and that he honestly feels bad that you can’t appreciate it, that you’re weaker than him, and it boils your blood. Apathy or even mockery would be better than this condescending way he’s deluded himself into believing this is for your benefit.

“Don’t call me sweetheart, you piece of shit. If that door is locked, you’re gonna unlock it, and you’re going to leave me the fuck alone.” You practically spit the words at him through gritted teeth, seething to the point you can feel heat radiating from your body and wouldn’t be surprised if there was literal steam coming out of your ears.

“Sit down, angel.”

“Talk to me like that again and there will be nothing angelic about what I do to you.”

“Your mother called.”

That gets your attention and your anger dissipates for a moment. “Really? What did she say?”

When he guides you to sit down, you’re not really in the space to fight him off, waiting to hear any news from your family.

“They’re coming down in a few days, for New Year’s, and, they’re bringing your sister–they say she’s stable enough for travel.”

You feel your eyes begin to water at the thought of your sister being that strong, of being able to talk to her like you used to, before she got sick. But you snap out of it, and that swelling in your heart turns to something close to anxiety, but closer to suspicion. “Why are you telling me this?”

He scoffs as if you’re asking him if the sky is blue. “Because I know you want to see them. I told them they could stay with us for a few days.”

“With us?”

He just blinks. “Yes, with us.”

“You must be out of your fucking mind if you think…” And the next few hours are spent with you screaming in his face, swinging punches which he easily dodges, but sometimes he humours you and allows you a hit–not like it hurts anyway. His calm demeanour and ‘care’ makes you infuriated beyond belief, and by the end of the night the room has been trashed, there are scratches on the door from your desperate clawing and pounding, your voice is hoarse from all the yelling, and you’re exhausted while Bucky is no more beaten than when you first woke up.

Eventually, you’ve physically exhausted yourself so much you can’t even push him away when he climbs into bed next to you and holds you in his arms, placing your head against his chest and caressing your hair, which he knows always relaxes you and helps you fall asleep.

***

You only know it’s morning when you wake up because Bucky greets you with it, but it doesn’t take long for your attention to fall to the walls, noticing there aren’t any windows.

“We’re in the basement, you know.” Bucky comments, watching your eyes dart around the room and catching on to what you’re doing. “I don’t have a spare room, you know that.”

You’re nearly tired of glaring daggers at him seeing as he doesn’t really feel it–if anything, it seems to spur him on, like he doesn’t really care what you do as long as he gets some kind of reaction out of you. If you remained as stoic as he did, maybe that would give him pause for thought, but you really can’t resist the urge to attack him, and he somehow sees it as endearing, like any attention you give him makes his heart swell.

Initially, you refuse his invitation for breakfast upstairs, but when that morning grumpiness subsides, you let your stubbornness fall away in favour of opportunity. This really solidifies in your mind Bucky is so convinced you’ll stay that he doesn’t really worry about turning his back on you as he flips an egg.

“Where’re you going?”

You stop dead in your tracks, shocked he had heard you get up when you were practically sneaking like a cartoonish villain.

“To the bathroom,” you lie, to which he responds with a simple, “Okay.”

It’s too easy, but you’d rather take your chances than wonder if this is some kind of setup. You have to get out of here as soon as possible, so you don’t have time to look for your car keys, but you hesitate at the door. It’s beginning to snow, and you’re not dressed anywhere near enough to make it to a neighbour–the only thing that had kept you warm before coming up to see him was that nice coat, but it’s not on the rack anymore.

There’re only a few locks you have to turn to quietly open the door, your teeth chattering as a cold breeze hits you so hard it’s painful, like your skin is literally freezing onto your bones. You’re barefoot, no less. You can’t kid yourself into thinking you won’t lose a toe or some extremities in the process, but you can not stay. It really has only been one night, but something you’ve never liked in your life is being trapped, makes your skin crawl to the point you’d rather shed it than be deprived of freedom, especially when you’ve got the chance to see your family soon. And besides, it’s really not that long of a walk to the next house, you won’t die out there, but you can only vaguely make it out through the snow, and if you scream, it’ll surely be drowned by the harsh winds. With one last glance behind you, you step into the snow, and instantly regret it, your feet set close to frozen in just a few seconds, and goosebumps rising so quickly across your skin it feels like you’ve suddenly broken out in hives. And just as you consider turning back, you’re shoved forward, and you shriek as you land face first in the snow, afraid of crying at the impact lest your tears turn to ice right on your cheeks.

You’re gripped by the arm and pulled upright, before being again pushed further away from the house you can feel radiating warmth just through the open door. You gasp for air as you manage to bring yourself to your hands and knees, fingers curling into the snow and slowly becoming numb. A harsh gust blows, nearly knocking you off balance, and you squint to look up at the door, Bucky standing before you in little more than a long-sleeved t-shirt (he’s more underdressed than you) and sweatpants, hair still a little messy with sleep, but the look in his eyes, it’s a look you’ve never been on the receiving end of–in fact, you’ve never even seen it, but you can recognise it immediately.

“You forget I’m the Winter Soldier.” You’re not sure how his deep growl manages to carry across the howling of the winds, but you don’t have time to figure it out before a metal hand grips a fistful of your hair and you’re dragged through the snow, instinctively trying to plant your feet in the ground to stop him but even if you could match his strength, the cold is unbearable, and your legs are starting to feel numb, yet still stiff.

You don’t have time to be grateful that you’ve been thrown back into warmth as you slide across the floor and Bucky kicks the door shut behind him. From a hallway table, he pulls out a wrench, and you struggle to get your arms and legs to move away from him as he approaches you, menacingly.

You don’t know how such slow and heavy footsteps manage to catch up to you so quickly, but soon he’s got his boot pressing down on your ankle, preventing you from doing more than thrashing around. He leans down and grips your face roughly, forcibly pulling you up to meet him, and his eyes are so void of emotion he nearly looks dead. He doesn’t look angry, he looks like he just can’t feel.

“I do all this for you, and you can’t even offer me a pretty little smile.” His large fingers reach into your mouth, pulling your lips and teeth apart wide, wide enough for him to shove the wrench into your mouth and attach it to one of your teeth. “You don’t know what you have until it’s gone. Maybe you’ll appreciate it more if it just wasn’t the same.” You feel your gum twist and let out a cry, gurgling through your throat. Your frail fingers grasp onto his wrist as you desperately try to shake your head, but his strong hold prevents you from it. He twists a little more and you squeeze your eyes shut, holding your breath, before he eventually pulls out and you gasp for dear life, tears stinging your vision.

He roughly tugs you up and practically throws you into a nearby chair, before taking your hand with surprising gentleness, caressing your hurting fingers with the back of his for a moment before adjusting his grip to bring the wrench back forward.

“Now this is no good…” he remarks, moving his head to see more of your frostbitten marks you’re sure will leave scars. “You know what happens to these?” The wrench attacks itself to your index finger and Bucky adjusts its width so it’s threatening to chop your finger right off.

You scream at him to let go, kicking at his legs gets no reaction out of him, but don’t dare to move the hand he’s still holding.

“What if I just…” He twists only slightly and your skin breaks, blood seeping down from your frayed skin and dripping onto your thigh.

Just as you’re about to let out an unstoppable shriek of pain, Bucky’s metal hand presses to your mouth, stopping the sound going any further than echoing off his palm for only you to hear again. He twists more and you move your wrist with it, trying anything to stop him from twisting your finger off. He notices this and removes his other hand from your mouth to hold your wrist firmly in place.

“Bucky, please–”

“Shut up!” he shouts, his hold on you tightening even further. He lowers his face to yours with wide eyes, jaw clenched impossibly tight, and speaks in a dangerously low register, his voice trembling with fury as he tries to hold it together, at least in demeanour if not in action. “You really fucked up, and if you don’t have any fingers, you won’t be able to open my door ever again.”

✪

[my beloved taglist: @cowboysnbugs, @keito-123, @vogueprincess, @cjand10, @mybabygirllove]

[midnightwritingsessions]

Cigarettes and conversations

Summary: After having a bad day a stranger comforts you at the bar. This stranger somehow becomes a big part of your life.

Requested

Masterlist

A/n: working the 6 days before Christmas in retail is not for the weak I swear 🥲 I’m sorry for not being active but I should be back now my hours at work are going back down

Sorry it’s quite short!

-

The pub was buzzing with life, laughter, and music spilling out through the slightly cracked door. Inside, your friends were chatting away, entirely immersed in their conversation. But you couldn’t focus tonight, not with the weight of the day sitting squarely on your shoulders. So here you were, standing just outside in the crisp evening air, your coat pulled tight against the chill. A cigarette dangled from your fingers, glowing faintly in the dim light of the streetlamp. You took a slow drag, trying to let the nicotine calm the storm brewing in your head.

“You alright there, love?” The voice came from a few feet away, startling you slightly. You turned your head and immediately froze. It was him. Louis Tomlinson, standing casually with his hands tucked into the pockets of his coat. His blue eyes held a hint of concern, his head tilted just enough to make it clear he was genuinely asking. You blinked, unsure what to say. “Uh… yeah, I’m fine. Just needed a breather” you said while pointing to behind you to the pub. He nodded slowly, his gaze flickering to your cigarette. “Mind if I join you?”. “Sure” you said, your voice coming out more casual than you felt.

Louis stepped closer, pulling out his own pack and lighting up with practiced ease. He leaned against the wall beside you, his movements relaxed but deliberate. For a moment, the two of you smoked in silence, the sound of distant chatter filling the space between. “Long day?” he asked finally, breaking the quiet. You exhaled a puff of smoke, glancing sideways at him. “You could say that”. He chuckled softly. “I could tell. You’ve got that look about you”. “What look?”. “You know” he said, gesturing vaguely with his cigarette. “The ‘I’d rather be anywhere else right now’ look”.

A laugh escaped you before you could stop it, and Louis’s lips curved into a small smile. “Am I wrong?” he asked. “No” you admitted, shaking your head. “You’ve got me there”. He gave a small hum of acknowledgment, taking another drag. “Well, at least you’re out here. Better than bottling it all up, yeah?” You nodded, glancing down at your shoes. “What about you? Why are you out here instead of inside with your mates?”

Louis grinned. “Maybe I just had a feeling someone out here could use some company”. The sincerity in his tone caught you off guard, and for the first time that evening, you felt the tension in your chest ease ever so slightly.

Over the next half hour, the two of you chatted about everything and nothing. Louis had a way of drawing you out, his playful banter balancing perfectly with his moments of genuine interest. You found yourself laughing at his quick wit, forgetting for a while why you’d even needed to escape in the first place. When you finally stubbed out your long gone cigarette, Louis did the same, turning to you with a curious look. “So” he said, “you heading back inside?” You hesitated, unsure if you were ready to dive back into the noise and energy of the pub. Louis seemed to pick up on your hesitation, because he added, “Or we could stay out here a bit longer. No pressure”. You smiled, grateful for his understanding. “Let’s stay. It’s quieter”. “Good choice” he said, his eyes twinkling.

That night turned out to be the beginning of something neither of you could have predicted. Over the weeks that followed, you and Louis kept in touch. He started texting you casually little jokes, updates about his day, or random thoughts that made you laugh out loud. Before you knew it, those texts turned into phone calls, and those phone calls turned into plans to meet up. At first, it was just friendly, grabbing coffee, taking a walk in the park, sharing another cigarette outside a different pub. But with each meeting, you couldn’t help but notice the way Louis looked at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention, or the way his voice softened just slightly when he said your name. You hoped that you weren’t imagining these things and that maybe in the not so distant future he might act on whatever it is he’s feeling. Looking back you were now more grateful for the bad day you had, never imagining that it could have lead you to something so special in the future.

[razzmatash]

...With You Day 12 - “You are all I need tonight underneath the Christmas lights.” ...Sort of Love and Deepspace Sylus x f!OC 1406 Words Read on Ao3 banner by firefly-graphics

Waking slowly, Calli shifted under the covers, frowning to herself. Something didn’t feel right. Sliding her hand across the mattress, her frown deepened when she didn’t find Sylus. She lifted her head and squinted in the dark but she couldn’t see any lights on from the bathroom. “Sylus?” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes and pushing herself up in bed.

He wasn’t in the room that much was clear now. Tapping the beside lamp, she still looked around to confirm he wasn’t. Where had he gone? He’d been so insistent about her going to bed after she’d fallen asleep against his shoulder on the couch. She’d pushed herself too hard, according to him, and he was calling it a night. He’d carried her to bed and tucked her in, climbing in with her when she hadn’t settled down right away.

Except it had barely been ten so he wouldn’t have gone to sleep.

Pushing her hair away from her face, she frowned to herself. Was he out in the living room? Had he not stayed because he didn’t want to wake her up? The clock showed she’d been asleep for a couple hours so everyone else should have been asleep by now too. They’d all stayed so they could celebrate the holiday in the morning and so far as she was aware, his twins were crashing on the pull out couch. Would he go out there or-

Calli shivered as a faint breeze washed through the room and she watched the curtains stir from it. Was he outside? She swung her legs off the bed and scooped up a cardigan she’d tossed earlier to pull on before padding over to the glass doors. Quietly peeking out, she wasn’t entirely surprised to see him on the balcony, leaning on the railing and watching the city below him.

“Sylus?” she said softly, not sure if she should disturb him. He’d clearly gone out here to be alone.

He didn’t say anything but he turned just enough to hold out a hand to her.

Shuffling across the balcony, she didn’t complain about the cold on her feet as she took his hand. He moved her to stand in front of him, tucking her close while he continued to watch the city. She looked at him over her shoulder before looking out as well when he still stayed quiet.

They were up high enough that it gave a wonderful view of everything in the area. Her favourite was the park nearby because the city would always light up the trees and she enjoyed watching them twinkle in the relative darkness. But it wasn’t just them. Other balconies had lights and decorations strung up, some curtains open to show the trees lit up inside for people that were still awake. There were little pockets of holiday cheer no matter where you looked.

“It’s different from what I’m used to,” he said quietly, his voice rumbling through her. “Even if people in the N109 celebrate the holidays, they do it privately. There’s no outward sign that something is happening for fear of it being taken advantage of or ruined.”

Calli listened, her heart aching a little. The Zone was filled with all kinds of people, many who hadn’t asked to be there but were there anyways. Because there was nowhere else to go. She knew she couldn’t fix it even if she tried but the holidays were special to her. With how busy her family had been, it was the one time they had all always agreed that they would be together. No matter what was happening, they would get together for the holiday.

“In all the years I’ve been there, I’ve never celebrated anything. I never wanted to,” he admitted. “There was no reason to. Even when the twins came, they didn’t know what a normal routine was either. They did small things with each other, tried to prank me the first few years, but nothing like this. Nothing like what the last few weeks have been.”

The last few weeks had been hectic to say the least and she suddenly wondered if she should have eased him into it a little more gently. “I’m sorry if it was too much,” she said softly.

He ducked his head, pressing his face into the crook of her neck. “Don’t apologize. It wasn’t too much. It showed me a different side of you I hadn’t seen yet.”

Was that a good thing? Calli smiled wryly. “I don’t know how I should take that. I’ve been a little crazy the last few weeks.”

“Because it mattered to you and you wanted it to matter for me.”

That was true but it didn’t excuse it if she’d crossed a line. The arm around her belly tightened as he inhaled deeply, dropping a kiss on her neck that made her shiver.

“You didn’t need to do that,” he said quietly. “I told you you didn’t but you did it anyways.”

“I wasn’t going to leave you alone on the holiday,” Calli protested.

“The holidays don’t matter to me.”

She tried to twist to look at him but he kept her right where she was. “Sylus-”

“They don’t matter,” he repeated. “To me they’ve always been made up days that people use as an excuse to be together. You shouldn’t need an excuse for that. I don’t need an excuse for it. But they matter to you so I wanted to see why. I wanted you to show me why they mattered.”

“They matter because of the people I want to share them with.”

“And you wanted to share it with me.”

“Maybe we had a rocky start, Sylus, but if you think for one fucking second, you don’t matter to me, I’m going to throw you off this balcony.”

He chuckled, deep and low, and moved to press a kiss to her ear. “Odd way to show affection, sweetie.”

“You like it.”

He didn’t deny it and kissed her again. “They still don’t matter to me,” Sylus said after a moment.

She bit her lip to keep from reflexively saying anything. He wasn’t done and if she interrupted him, she wouldn’t get the rest of it.

“But what matters to me is that you shared it with me. You made space in your life, in your rituals, to include me. You went out of your way to do so. That you’re willing to do that for me...that’s what matters to me.” He paused, rubbing his cheek against her hair. “You’re what matters to me.”

Her breath caught as he gripped her chin between chilly fingers and turned her just enough so she could see him. “Sylus.”

“All I need is you, Calliope,” he said quietly. “Nothing else matters so long as I have you.”

She didn’t know what she was trying to say, words jumbled in her throat, before he kissed her. It was slow and deep, his teeth nipping at the plush of her lower lip before his tongue swiped over it soothingly. He slid it against her own, holding her captive while he took his time with her. One hand fisted in his shirt, holding onto him as the world dropped away around her. There was only him.

She managed to get out his name as he lifted his mouth from hers but that was all before he claimed her again. The hand on her chin slid back into her hair, burying in the curls to hold her steady as she began to tremble.

When he finally eased back from her, it was only far enough to press his forehead to hers. His gaze was heavy on her as he watched her gasp for air, taking in all of her. “I don’t need presents,” he said softly. “You are my present.”

Squeezing her eyes shut, she took a small breath. “We’re still going on the trip,” she pushed out.

She didn’t need to see him to know he was smiling before he kissed the tip of her nose. “We’re still going on the trip,” he agreed, his grip around her waist moving to band around her thighs and lift her up. “I’m looking forward to unwrapping my present.”

Not opening her eyes as he carried her back inside, Calli hung onto Sylus and told herself to just breathe. Considering what all she had bought for him to ‘unwrap’, she’d be lucky to survive the trip.

[imogenkol]

ha ha this is fine

[sofarsogoodsowhat]

man i wanted so fucking bad to actually do something for my birthday this year but i work 11-5 on my birthday and 10-4 the next day so i can’t even fucking go out On my actual birthday to celebrate cuz i gotta get up at fucking 8am the next day :/ i just want one damn year where i actually get to have a fun birthday but it’s whatever i guess. it’s finally on a saturday this year too AND we found a metal show we wanted to go to but that fucking 10-4 shift the next day makes it impossible so i guess i’ll go fuck myself just like every other goddamn year

[benechillax]

man i think i’m 5 seconds away from a mental breakdown

[bitter-goodbyes]

OMG HELLO?????