#laughing because she had figured it all out

[cosmicporos]

What Arcane characters would gift you for Christmas!

Jinx, Vi, Ekko, Viktor, Jayce

(Semi crack Drabble… sorry for going super long with Viktor’s and Jayce’s HCs. I LOVE THEM SO MUCH)

(Jayce is Hispanic in my hc :3)

ENJOY AND HAVE FUN LOVE YALL<3

Not proofread

JINX

Hear me out�� the first thing she would plan to gift you are decorated safety googles.

As a matter of fact everything she gifts you is handmade!

She knows you love to spend time with her when she’s in her workshop and the extra spare of googles she had were pretty crappy…

“Ugh, these old things? Pfft, they look like they’ve been through a freakin’ explosion… oh wait, they probably have! We gotta get you a new pair soon toots!”

They’d be totally decked out! Lots of character as she calls it.

“Okay toots check it out! Maximum protection but most importantly! They got style!”

The googles themselves would be in her classic style, very colorful paint, cute little heart scribbles all around! And of course lots of glitter….

“"I mean, you've got to stay safe while causing mayhem, right? And hey, if we're blowing stuff up together, you'll definitely need these. Plus, I made them perfectly for you. No one else will have goggles like these... trust me!"

I totally see her adding little handmade jewelry from her gears and spare parts, would totally make you a belt or choker out of spare bullets.

Vi

She would totally panic on what to get you for Christmas. Like what if you suddenly hate the thing you’ve loved since the very beginning she’s known you???

Would end up both buying and making you something!

She’s make you something small but meaningful

“Okay Okay fine! You can open mine now. Just don’t laugh too hard Cupcake…”

You’d open the poorly wrapped gift to uncover a bright pink scarf she knitted you! The stitching is a mess.. there a hole’s through the project (no doubt a missed stitch) but in all honesty it so cute you feel like your heart might explode.

"Yeah, I know I'm not, uh, the best at this kind of thing," she mutters, scratching the back of her neck, "but I figured you could use something to keep warm... and, you know, 'cause it's winter. And... you're important to me."

Guys please tell her she did an amazing job PLEASE.

She would also totally buy you a pair of combat boots! Totally saved up for months in advance.

She loves the idea of being able to match and have a bit of her style on you!

Ekko

Just like Jinx (sobs) he’d also make something for you!

The first thing he’d give you would be a little sketch book full of drawings of you from random moments throughout your relationship he remembers oh so clearly.

"I've been working on it for a while... It's... it's just a bunch of drawings. I mean, not just anything. Stuff that made me think of you. Stuff we've done, or things I hope we do. I don't know, it just felt like the best way to show how I feel about... well, us."

Okay he would also totally make you matching jewelry (matching clock hand necklaces?)

You’d force him to take the hour hand since it’s shorter (heheheh little man)

Once you explain your reasoning as to why he should take the smaller one he sighs disappointedly…

"Okay, okay, I get it," he finally says, a little less playful now, his voice softening. "I guess if you want me to wear it, I can..."

Then, a grin creeps back onto his face as he adds, "But don't think I'm letting you off the hook with the minute hand. You're wearing that one for sure." He places the hour hand necklace around his neck, the smaller pendant resting there, and looks up at you with that mischievous gleam in his eye.

He pauses, holding up his necklace, "I'm still the one with the bigger job. You'll just have to keep up." A proud smug smirk now rests on his face.

Viktor

FUCK WHERE DO I BEGIN I LOVE THIS MAN

o k a y. He would just like Vi panic… not because he doesn’t know what to get you but because he totally is going Christmas shopping late… very very late.

As much as I would love to say he’d make some little invention to make your day easier and give it to you for Christmas I don’t see it happening.

Not because he wouldn’t do it but because he already does it all the time! A little example, you’re late for work often? A little robot that hits you with a plastic squishy hammer every morning at 7 am waking you up when he can’t!

He’d definitely want to make Christmas special, I see him buying you something and then doing something special for you too!

Christmas morning would be greeted with warm hugs and kisses along with an even warmer bowl of potato soup!

He wanted to make sure he perfected his mother’s Bramboračka recipe. It was a once a year meal him and his mother shared every Christmas day.

He’s not a good cook by any means… but this is the one dish he can make and oh boy can he make it.

"Don't expect perfection," he says with a small, self-conscious smile, as you catch him sneaking a taste of the soup. Viktor looks up, his gaze softening. "I hope you like it," he says, and despite his usual perfectionism, there's a quiet pride in his voice. You take a sip, and the rich flavors of mushrooms, potatoes, and herbs immediately comfort you, just like his mother's love must've comforted him all those years ago.

OKAY for the making gift he planned I see him commissioning something due to the fact a lot of his inventions lack aesthetics.

Specifically I see him commissioning a music box that functions as a a jewelry box as well! He would have loved to make it himself but he was worried he wouldn’t have gotten the look right.

"Do you like it?" he asks, his voice softer than usual, as if he's worried about the reception. "I had it made... I thought... it might remind you of us."

The detail was breathtaking-floral patterns etched into the surface, with tiny gears and delicate metalwork accenting the edges. The craftsmanship was stunning, and you couldn't help but run your fingers over the smooth finish.

you lifted the lid, and a gentle, lilting melody began to play. It was slow and sweet, a tune that felt timeless, and as you stared at the tiny figurines inside, your breath caught.

His fingers fidgeted with the edge of his cane, his gaze flicking between you and the music box. "I commissioned it," he admitted, his voice quieter now. "I had the craftsman use a sketch I made. It's how I see us... in my mind. How I feel when I hold you." He paused, his expression softening. "I thought... I thought you deserved something that would remind you of that. Of... how much you mean to me."

Jayce

Oh hon… Jayce would spoil you rotten.

I’m talking presents are overflowing underneath the tree.

You thought you lost your favorite piece of clothing? WRONG! He commissioned for more to be made in different colors and textures for you.

All the fragrances in the world he knew you would enjoy.

Cozy adorable pajamas we would give you Christmas morning so you could cuddle up drinking hot chocolate.

Spends Christmas Eve spoiling you and cuddling and being so tooth rottenly sweet.

It’s Christmas Eve, the scene was almost overwhelming. The living room looked like a perfectly curated holiday catalog-twinkling lights, a roaring fireplace, and, of course, an absurd number of gifts. Jayce sat cross-legged beside the tree, an excited grin lighting up his face as he handed you the first box. He had merely grinned, sheepish yet unrepentant. "What can I say? I got carried away?.”

"Open this one first," he urged, nearly vibrating with excitement. Inside was a bottle of an exquisite fragrance, the glass etched with delicate, swirling designs. It smelled divine-rich, warm, and entirely you.

"I figured you'd like that," he said eyes carefully watching everyone expression you make. You swear if he had a tail it would be swishing uncontrollably right now.

Christmas Day would be you spending Christmas day at his mother’s house!

(Listen I’m hc them as hispanic because for one HIS MOMS NAME HIS XIMENA… and two because why not :3 )

You have a great relationship with his Mother, she absolutely adores you and sees you as her daughter.

There’s lots of yummy food she’s prepared… perhaps too much for just 3 people?

Nonetheless, a pot of pozole, tamales de puerco and de dulce! And of course she made jayce’s favorite choco flan!

God she urges to to eat until you nearly pop! You have to undo your belt by the end of the night…

"Come, sit!" his mom insisted, pulling out a chair for you. "Jayce told me you've never had my tamales. That's a crime! Here, start with this." She placed one on your plate, her eyes twinkling.

Jayce sat beside you, his grin widening as you took your first bite. "Good, right?" he asked, nudging you playfully.

You could only nod, savoring the perfectly seasoned masa and tender filling.

Later in the evening, when everyone was too full to move, Jayce leaned over and slipped his hand into yours. His eyes were soft, his voice low as he said, "I'm glad you're here. This—" he gestured to the lively scene around you, "—feels perfect with you."

[mjbarrosart]

My Dragon Prince Boards season 7, episode 705, part 2: The Moonberry Surprise.

It's true, the Moonberry Surprise moment, it is my fault

I hope you can forgive me for my sins. Hahahaha.

Ok, let's talk about this little sequence. But first, some... context?

Ok, so, Dragon Prince was my first job as Storyboard Artist, before coming to DPR I was working as a Storyboard Revisionist in Lego NinjaGo Crystalized. So I applied to Dragon Prince with not hopes that they will hire me, and when the offered my the job I was in awe.

So basically, I arrived to work in season 4 as a Junior Storyboard Artist. They gave me little sequences during season 4 (I was mostly helping my unit director with revisions) they gave me more during season 5 and 6, working on my strengths, emotional moments, long talking sequences and some combat. You know what was not there? comedy, because it was not one of the things I knew well how to do. But after a year and a half working in the show, I was seasoned enough to be a proper Storyboard Artist, not a rookie anymore. So they finally assigned me a comedy sequence.

I was terrified. Today after years in the industry, I can say that I am not scared of comedy anymore. But when I read the script and I realized that they were expecting a big comedy moment from me , I knew I was in trouble. But as they say, "you fake it until you make it" I took a deep breath and smile to my unit director like "Of course I can do this!"

But ok, lets talk about the sequence. We start nice, with the moon fam enjoying some time together. Was an opportunity to work with Runaan and Ethari, and that is always cool! I love how Ethari is just happy of everyone being there, and Runaan just wants to kill Callum (in an affectionate way, like he is just a protective dad, you know, a no nonsense dude)

So yeah, they talk a little and Rayla handles Callum a slice of Moonberry Surprise. Is like this almost mythical dessert that is said tastes like nothing else in all Xadia. And Callum is so excited to try it!

So, the script did not call for anything you saw in that sequence. The script instructed to reveal the Moonberry Surprise like something out of this world, and then have Callum almost having an epiphany when he tries it. My first idea was to have Calum almost levitating on his seat while eating it, while the rest of the moon fam looked at them in confusion. But during the launch of the episode (this is the stage where directors and in the case of DPR writers, tell SB artist what they want for every sequence we will board, we pitch ideas, and so on) was more clear to me that they were expecting something more of an "out of this world experience". Like the "I love books" moment that Callum had on season 5, episode 2, but on steroids.

So I was ok, lets make it as trippy as possible. So we have this fast zoom in into Callums face, that lead us into this "dimension of flavor" he is being transported to.

And he opens his eyes and he is floating in this space of color and flavor, his spirit being lifted by this experience.

He is experiencing all this flavors, eating this huge blue berries (this was my Unit director idea, Thanks Katherine!!), when something catches his eye. A figure, looking to him from the above, almost like a god.

And Callums looks up, revealing... this:

So, I have a really particular sense of humor (not unique, because I feel a lot of people share it, particular because really specific things make me laugh a lot). I was born late 80's grew up on the 90's with all the weird cartoons and anime of that time. For me adding muscular arms to things is the best joke ever.

This is peak humor to me:

So I was like, what if, Callum does the Titanic spinning thing, with a muscular slice of pie? So I did that... And I was SURE they will reject it.

So I finished my roughs, and I sent them to my Unit Director. She was "this is so stupid" (in the best way) so, she added some placeholder music, and send it for review from the directors, while both of us were expecting to have it rejected.

A couple of days after, our Storyboards Supervisor was like "WHO DID THE MOONBERRY SURPRISE SEQUENCE??" And I was like "me?", and he was like "Aaron LOVED IT!" and I was like "?????" so, yeah, was approved.

So yeah, that is my legacy, I guess. I am Runaan in this shot:

So well, those are all my sequences in episode 705.

Sorry again for being responsible for the birth of that thing. But that is my son now, and I kinda love him, even if he looks like that....

Next post will be my last! So yeah, stay tunned for my last post about my boards in The Dragon Prince, episode 708!

[goldfades]

okay but a paige x highschool sweetheart headcannons…….🤫

you’ve known paige since middle school, back when she had braces and that oversized basketball hoodie she wore like a uniform. you weren’t best friends right away, though

she was the loud one, all confidence and easy laughter, and you were… not. but eighth grade science class changed that—she offered you half of her sandwich during a field trip, and suddenly, she was sitting next to you every day

and by the time high school started, paige was already a star

everyone knew her name, not just because she was the point guard who could do things no one else could, but because she had that kind of energy that pulled people in

and yet, her favorite place to be was still with you—sitting on your bedroom floor, eating pizza, and letting you quiz her on geometry proofs. she claimed you were her good luck charm whenever she passed a test

paige didn’t officially ask you out until sophomore year. she said she’d been working up the courage for months—you laughed because, honestly, what did paige bueckers have to be nervous about?

but she was fidgeting with the drawstring of her hoodie, looking at you like she’d miss her next shot if you said no. of course, you didn’t

being with paige meant learning to share her with the world. you went to all her games, cheered louder than anyone else, and learned to love the way she’d scan the crowd for you after every buzzer, that grin of hers lighting up the whole gym when she found you

she’d sneak you into post-game interviews sometimes, just so she could wink at you while pretending to answer a serious question

she loved basketball, sure, but she loved you, too—in a way that made it clear you weren’t just her high school sweetheart

you were her person, the one she wanted next to her, whether she was on the court or sitting on the roof of your car, counting stars

and when senior year rolled around—the stakes felt higher, both on and off the court. she was being courted by every top college program in the country, and you—you were figuring out what life after high school might look like for the two of you

late-night talks turned into plans scrawled in notebooks, filled with possibilities of visits, long-distance calls, and maybe even the same college, if the stars aligned just right

when the acceptance letters came in, it felt like fate. uconn for both of you!

paige couldn’t stop smiling for days, talking about how you’d get to keep cheering her on, just in a bigger arena. but the transition to college wasn’t as seamless as either of you had hoped

paige was the star recruit—the freshman everyone had their eyes on. she was juggling practice, games, media appearances, and the pressure of being "the next big thing"

meanwhile, you were trying to find your footing in a new environment, feeling a little like you were standing in her shadow for the first time

it wasn’t anyone’s fault, but there were nights when it felt like the distance between you wasn’t just physical. you missed the simplicity of high school, the way things felt so easy back then

paige tried—she really did—to balance it all, but sometimes it felt like basketball demanded every piece of her

by sophomore year, the fights started. little things at first—missed plans, forgotten texts. but they added up, like a pressure cooker ready to burst. there was one night, after a particularly tough loss, when everything came out

"i’m trying my best, okay?" she’d said, voice raw. "you think i don’t miss how things used to be? but this… this is my dream. and i don’t know how to do it all."

"and what about us?" you’d shot back, tears in your eyes. "am i supposed to just wait around while basketball gets all of you?"

it was the kind of fight that felt like a turning point—the kind where you either figure it out or fall apart. and somehow, through the tears and the yelling, you found a way to talk. really talk.

paige admitted she’d been scared of losing you, of letting you down. you told her how lonely you’d been, how hard it was to feel like you were coming second to everything else. by the time the sun started to rise, you’d fallen asleep on her dorm room floor, her arms wrapped tightly around you, like she was scared you’d disappear if she let go

things weren’t perfect after that but they were better. you both learned how to make time for each other, even when it felt like there wasn’t any to spare

paige started bringing you to practices sometimes, letting you sit courtside while she worked through drills. you found your own rhythm at school, joining clubs and making friends who reminded you that you were more than just "paige bueckers’ girlfriend."

by the end of sophomore year, you’d both grown in ways you didn’t expect. paige was still the same girl who gave you half her sandwich back in eighth grade, and you were still her good luck charm

but now, you were partners, too—figuring out how to build a life together, one game, one moment at a time

[earth4angels]

WINTER LETTERS

 SUMMARY: you will only find true love once in a lifetime. you claim to have seen it through the craft of art, but when you met the boy who laughed at your dad's jokes and waited for you in front of history class with a bag of cherries, love was marked differently for you.    TAGS: friends to lovers, fluff, modern setting, slightly aged up characters, nerdy/popular history major jacaerys. corny, slight cliches. golden retriever boyfriend.               based on this idea  WORD COUNT: 3k

The music was loud to the point it vibrated against the wall in small rhythms, matching every beat of the sounds blasting through your record player. You hummed to the song playing, your right hand moving more delicately and intricately. A soft whine awoke you from the bubble you always created whenever you worked. In the figure of a small, one-year-old puppy sat Vermax who opened his mouth as he yawned, his nose twitching as a cute sneeze came upon him. You laughed softly, reaching down to cuddle the poor thing into your arms.

“I’m sorry buddy, mama has been mean to you huh?” you said as Vermax attempted to bite your fingers that now reached to ruffle the small ears of the golden retriever pup - his tailed waggled in annoyance. You swore you saw him frown. You feigned an offended gasp, “Oh my bad, I didn’t know the sir wanted attention.”

Vermax barked as he licked your face before resting his small head on your chest. It was a sign he wanted to stay by you. You grinned. Vermax was incredibly clingy and a needy dog, at times you thought Jacaerys - your now one-year boyfriend - influenced his behavior.

Your head tilted to the side, behind the canvas, onto the clock mounted on the wall. You clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth. “You’re late.”

As you resumed to continue painting with a now snoring puppy on your lap, your phone rang. The flutter in your stomach made you grin, forgetting the small frustration that Jacaerys had not stopped by.

Before the words slipped out of your mouth, the rapid chatter of your boyfriend rang through your ear beautifully making you chuckle.

“I’m so sorry baby!!”

You heard panting and harsh heaving as he apologized before the sound of the slamming of a door. You figured he ran to his car after class was over. You shook your head in amusement, listening to the ramble of your never-ending chatty boyfriend.

He took a deep breath, “So, I meant to finish with the class before 4 but Professor Adams wanted to give us a surprise pop quiz before the finals next week! I swear that old lady wants to murder me! Can you believe she called on me five times in a roll attempting to embarrass me? Bad for her because I know the material, but couldn’t she call on fucking Lannister?!” Jacaerys rambled. You wondered how in the world did he talk so fast without breathing for air. You did not mind; in fact, it made your day whenever Jacaerys Velaryon spoke to you.

“Jace,” you said attempting to talk but your boyfriend was not done. Your mouth twitched, stifling a very heavy laugh now.

“Anyways! I’m sorry baby! I will be there soon! I hope Vermax wasn’t too much, I swear he likes you more than he likes me. But who can blame him? You’re amazing and beautiful. Kind. Did I say beautiful?” His chatter all landed in one breath.

You laughed hard, “Jacaerys breathe!”

Jacaerys paused before he took a big breath of air, “Seven hells… sorry. I did it again.”

“Apologizing for just telling me about your day? You must be insane now,” your fingers tangled themselves into the soft fur of Vermax as you continued, “I miss you. Vermax is okay, he slept all day and ate. He’s currently on my lap sleeping once again after throwing a tantrum of not being held. You are influencing him.”

Jacaerys laughed, “I didn’t! He just loves you as much as I do,” he paused, “Actually no, I love you more than he does, don’t let those big eyes of him fool you.”

The sound of your boyfriend’s voice echoed through your body, as if swimming, the waves relaxed you, floating through the deep waves. The grin never slipped.

“Drive safely Jace,” you said, “I miss you.”

The next words that came automatically had your heart jumping out of your chest like a rubber ball. You almost, almost, wanted to scream. You composed yourself.

“I will, I’m rushing to be yours soon, I love you.”

You released a small squeak, Jacaerys smiled smugly knowing you were blushing, the red staining your cheeks that began to hurt from all the smiling you held. He prided himself on such power, he was the only one who would ever make you swoon, and he swore to be the last.

“I love you more,” you squeaked, the heat of embarrassment overcoming the flatter as you cleared your throat to be heard as normal, “See you soon.”

Jacaerys chuckled, his laugh deep, “Bye my love.”

You hummed in response, knowing if you spoke another word, it would put you as a fool. You hung up after, your hand flying to your chest where you felt the rumble of your heart beating against your chest like hard slams against a drum. Get it together, you thought.

Vermax was awake now, his blue and green eyes shining bright as they eyed you. You felt judged by his stare. Even more so when he tilted his head to the side, his tongue licking his nose before continuing with his stare.

“What are you looking at you clingy baby? Your dad is silly! If you want to find a girlfriend Vermax, don’t be like your dad, your girlfriend will bite you,” you spoke to the child on your lap who continued to stare, his eyes holding a hinge of judgment, so you claimed, “I hate your dad.” You hmphed.

Vermax barked, his eyes rolling slightly. You gasped, a pout on your lips, “You traitor,” you picked him up before placing him on your bed where he laid his head on his paws as he stared.

You checked the clock on the wall if you calculated correctly, Jacaerys would be here in 20 minutes, which meant it gave you time to shower. You grimaced when you looked down to judge your state. You were wearing an old jumper, stained with paint everywhere, your hair was pulled back, held by a big hair clip. Quite frankly, you looked like a mess, but when you painted the outfit never mattered. You knew Jacaerys would never mind the way you looked, he never did, he would always receive you with a big smile that made his glasses slide up his nose and a kiss. A kiss that left you breathless every single time.

This time, however, you needed to change, so you rushed into a quick shower and a rapid change of clothes which was your boyfriend’s frat sweater and warm sweats as the weather was getting colder. Winter was here. By the time you finished combing your hair, the door locks being unlocked was heard and suddenly barking - excited barking. You rolled your eyes, of course, Vermax would make a ruckus over Jacaerys.

You applied lotion on your hands before hands wrapped around your waist, a low rumble was enough to make your knees weak. The power of Jacaerys Velaryon. You cursed inwardly. You feigned to be angry knowing it would not last more than ten seconds.

Jacaerys sighed into your neck, “I’ve missed you today.”

You hummed in acknowledgment, tapping his hands where they lay on your stomach.

Through the mirror you saw the way Jacaerys frowned, his bangs hanging over his eyes. You stifled a laugh.

“My love?” he attempted to coddle you, his voice softer, whinier, “Babe… I’m sorry! I should have called you earlier to let you know I was going to be home late.” His hands tightened around your waist when you showed no reaction; he began to press kisses on your neck. “Please don’t be mad,” he pouted.

You giggled, your body twitching as he pressed another kiss on your neck which tickled. He exhaled a breath of relief, “Don’t do that!”

You laughed, twisting around to meet him face to face, your hands wrapped around his neck as he leaned you against the bathroom sink. “Why not? I think it’s funny.”

“Not,” he said, his eyes shining with mischief, a smile on his face as he softly stared. The feeling returned then, the feeling of wanting to scream.

You nodded your head with certainty, a serious look on your face as you tried to hide the loud beating of your heart, “Oh yes.”

His eyes shifted to something dark, he licked his lips. Jacaerys scanned you, his eyes moving to trace the details of your face, memorizing every freckle, the shape of your eyes to the faint hue of his favorite color on your cheeks. His eyes stopped on your lips that were parted. His fingers dug into the sweater you wore, a sharp intake from his nose was all it took for you to know.

Jacaerys raised his eyebrow, the motion sending you into an immediate heart attack.

“Oh yeah? So do you think it will be funny if I,” he leaned towards you, a smirk on his lips as he saw you dazedly lean in, “… do this?” You were ready. Always ready. You needed it. The substance of his love and his dedication. You closed your eyes waiting for the flesh that melted against your lips, the taste of his cherry Chapstick. Jacaerys hummed, you felt his breath giving you a whiplash. He was so close. Suddenly he chuckled.

In a flash, you opened your eyes, and you saw your boyfriend leaning against the wall, a smirk on his lips. You growled in annoyance, jumping on him. A loud ‘oof!’ was heard.

“You evil!” you exclaimed as he held the flesh under your thighs to push you against him.

Laughing he looked up at you, “What? I think it’s funny,” he recalled the same words you gave him. Your eyes flashed with jest, “I hate you,” you pouted, your fingers into his small curls. You knew if he let his hair grow, the curls would be bigger erasing the flat of his hair.

“You know they say opposites attract,” his lips in a wide grin, “because I love you.”

Your face scrunched before groaning, “Ugh.”

Jacaerys raised his head to reach you, “Gimme kiss, I missed my girl.”

Your hands laid on his cheeks, a soft smile now rested on your lips, “You saw me this morning doofus.”

He peeked an eye open, before he whined, “Gimme a kissssssss.”

The explosions erupted, as it always did every single time you kissed Jacaerys Velaryon. His lips covered yours with such fire that left a tingling feeling after. You molded into his body as he did yours, your legs wrapped around his figure as it gave access to his hands that moved to rest on your back and another into the wet strands of your hair. A groan was heard as his hands pressed you closer. You smiled.

Jacaerys softly bit into your bottom lip before he smiled into the softness of your mouth, “I love you.”

To love Jacaerys felt easy for you, it was as if breathing. You loved everything about him, he was kind, patient, loving, a family man who fought for what he believed in, and he held such fire when it came to defending his family and loved ones. Cregan Stark once told you, “An angry Jacaerys is like watching a dragon feed on a sheep.”

You remembered how you looked at the tall man, you stared at him dumbly, “Cregan what the hell? How do you even know what a dragon looks like or how they hunt?”

Cregan only shrugged as he sipped on his beer, “Look, all I’m saying Jacaerys is scary. I feel for the people that cross him, shorty got fire.”

Jacaerys was very responsible, and calculative and walked with such confidence that made you wonder how in the hell you managed to grab his attention, but he claimed it was love at first sight. What you will never know was how Jacaerys admired you on the first day of orientation when you wrapped your hand around Alysanne, Cregan’s girlfriend, as you chatted about how excited you were to join the art club. He will never tell you how amazed and inspired he felt when he saw your artwork displayed in a gallery, your picture with a small introduction next to it was enough to send his head in a spiral. You were talented, quiet, and reserved, but you were also kind, as he often heard of a girl who helped the elderly in a local shelter that his family often helped out.

History was something he took pride upon, he loved to study, to learn of his ancestors, the history of his people, and the treasures lost but soon to one day be discovered. He took a lot of pride in his eagerness to expand his knowledge despite the person he looked like on the outside. Popular, rich, soon-to-be co-president of the frat house, a nerd? That was a contradiction, out of the status quo. However, he cared about nothing other than succeeding and making his family proud, the opinions of his family never made him hesitant or ashamed. He carried his last name with pride.

During the first year, Valyrian history was a class he excitedly enrolled in, and he almost broke his legs coming down steps to his seat when he saw you sitting in the second roll of the grand hall. He told the old gods how thankful he was to share a class with you. More he thanked the gods when the professor assigned a teammate project. There you sat, an awkward expression on your soft features, you looked around in anxiety, you knew no one and you had no idea how to approach someone new.

You jumped when a soft voice spoke from above you, “Do you want to be my partner?”

The book in your hands slipped as the stranger stood confidently, waiting for your response. Your cheeks became hot, “Uh… yeah., of course! I’d love to.” You cringed at the stutters and the disorganization of the spot where you sat. Jacaerys only smiled, though inside he was doing cartwheels.

“I’m Jacaerys Velaryon, first year,” he said as he smiled softly towards you. You organized your books, before eyeing his hand that reached for yours. You smiled politely as you gave your name.

“That’s a pretty name,” he said before he focused on the board as he listened intently. You blushed.

“Thank you,” you mumbled quietly, your face feeling like it was going to melt.

A friendship grew then, and in two weeks, you and Jacaerys became the biggest friends. You always thanked him for helping you with your history homework, but the only response you got was a shake of the head and a wave. He was more than happy to help you. Every Tuesday and Thursday in the mornings you met Jacaerys on the stairs to the main hall where the history lecture was held and in his hand was always a bag of cherries. Your favorite. The color stained your lips just as the color of your cheeks never left when you were beside him.

“Here,” you said one day before class. Jacaerys pushed his glasses up his head to hold his bangs back. His eyes rounded with confusion. You chuckled, “This is for you, as a thank you. You know… for being a good friend and helping me every single time.”

Jacaerys heart felt as if it was going to be heard by you, uncovering the deepest feelings he felt for you. In his hands now laid a handmade ceramic piece in the form of a dragon. The details were very defined, and he wondered how long it took you to finish, it looked professional, very rich in the colors, and you spent dedicated time crafting all the details onto the piece. He gasped as he saw the hidden message.

From you, comes the blood of the dragon.

His head snapped to meet you, his expression tender and appreciative, “Thank you, y/n.”

You smiled widely, your toes curling into the soles of your shoes as you beamed proudly, “You’re welcome Jace.”

The term ended but your friendship with the man you grew feelings for did not. In hidden messages, you showed your love through crafts, taking every technique, you learned in your studio classes to craft small things for the friend who held your heart. Jacaerys cherished those gifts more than his life, proudly showing it off that Cregan called him “Lovesick Romeo.”

Whether he kept the gifts or not, you will never know, but you hoped that he did, they were messages of your love for him.

During midterms, you jokingly mentioned his name sounded so ancient.

“I’m telling Mom you’re calling her old,” was all he said before he smiled when he saw you stop your giggles in fear. Rhaenyra adored you, often did she texted you a good morning and a wish for you to have the best day. To you, she was your other mother, and never did she let you call her Rhaenyra or Ms. Targaryen, nagging your ear off to be called mom.

“You know, as ancient as it sounds, it does look pretty in cursive,” your eyes shined with intrigue, Jacaerys knew already your small habits, the expressions you pulled whenever you switched moods. He knew that now you were about to tell him about art. He only leaned back on his chair, his arms crossed against his chest as he softly smiled, his full attention on you.

You grabbed your drawing pad and your bamboo brush; your small tube of black ink was uncapped as you excitedly showed him what you meant. He watched as you concentrated, your hair falling perfectly around your face, your eyes focused as the inner of your forehead creased and you frowned. He only watched you counting down the days for the perfect time to ask you the big question.

“Okay! Look!”

Jacaerys leaned over you, your hands touching sending your skin in goosebumps. You cleared your throat to show indifference. “Your name is beautiful,” you mentioned softly. Jacaerys locked eyes with you, his brown eyes so glassy that you saw your reflection through his. You gasped softly.

“You made it beautiful,’ he said, “Your writing is beautiful, are you learning that now?”

You were thankful he switched topics as you swore you almost puked from the overwhelming feelings that consumed you whole. “Yeah,” you cleared your throat once again, “Typography, though it’s in digital, is something about tracing different fonts and all that helps too and is effective in the real world.”

Jacaerys hummed, his long fingers tracing the ink on the paper, “Sounds cool.”

You smiled, “It’s very cool.”

You were finally done with finals, cheering softly into the softness of your pillow. Vermax jumped on you, his mouth nibbling on your hair, “Vermax,” you groaned when he pulled a little too hard, “You evil baby.”

A soft ‘roof,’ was heard before he flopped beside you to chew on his plushie Jacaerys had gotten him from Dragonstone.

You flopped on your stomach, your arms hugging the pillow closer to your face, your brain empty, enjoying the comfortable silence. Jacaerys was at his last final of the semester, he left for school after you did so you took the time to relax before going out later that night. Cregan and Alysanne along with Benjicot and a few other friends of Jacaerys invited you both to the bar to celebrate the end of the semester.

As you stared around the bedroom you noticed a shiny box hidden under the cabinet where you and Jacaerys stacked a collection of films and books. You raised an eyebrow, watching the box glimmer against the light of the room. “Huh.”

You stood up to approach the box you had never seen before. As you were about to open it, the phone rang making you jump in fright. “Seven fucking hells!”

Eyeing the box you answered the phone, “Hello?”

“Hi baby, sorry! Just a quick question before I head to the test hall. Mom invited us to the city for a family dinner and she asked if you were up for it. Joff has been whining her ear off how much he misses you,” Jacaerys spoke quickly and quietly, you knew he was outside the hall.

“Absolutely! Yeah, I’ll call her right now actually.”

“Okay, that’s all. I’ve gotta go, the professor is here, I’ll see you soon. I love you!”

You smiled, the hold on the phone tightened, “I love you so much more, good luck!”

The phone call was cut short, you prayed he did well, but you never doubted he would do terribly. Jacaerys was very much a nerd hidden behind the popularity of his name and the circle of friends he had. He loved his books more than anything, always eager to know more.

Your eyes went back to the box that tempted you to open, you clicked your tongue. Untying the ribbon, you lifted the hard lid off, your jaw dropping at the contents of the box. “What the -”

Inside the box held every piece of love you ever crafted for Jacaerys, every piece you made with a small sticky note with a date. Your eyes watered, he had kept it all. For two years, Jacaerys Velaryon kept every message you gave him, the small dragon you gifted him sat by his bedside with a picture of you and him. He claimed it was to keep you close whenever you went to work or class. The tears ran down your cheeks as you went over every piece, every painting, and sculpture, until you stopped at a note.

“Oh, my g-”

Jacaerys.

The piece of paper was old, the edges where it seemed to have been ripped off a book glared at you. The memories flooded upon you. You recalled how angry and sad you were when the paper you wrote his name in calligraphy disappeared from your drawing book. In your hands laid the same people you mourned over. On the bottom relied on a new message. A message that made you choke on the sob you released. One of full love and happiness.

February 8th, the day I began counting down the days I would ask her to be mine forever.

☆ jace nation taglist (open): @vividxpages @writtenapoiogy @smurfelle @number-0-iz @peri4stral @girlthatislost @agqrtz @thenotesapppoet ☆ natties angel list (open): @aemondvelaryon @fleurbies @yohanseyebrowmole

☆ slutcult/mooties: @mattnott @manhandlememando @bucksplum @housetargaryenloyalist @xxselenite @vee-mage @v3lary0ns @hxtd @eldrith @bryscorner @princessbellecerise

[leona-hawthorne]

FICMAS #8— HE’S MINE! / mattheo riddle

december 23rd

mattheo riddle x fem reader

summary: it seems to be a little hard to get into the christmas spirit when your little sister is hogging your boyfriend!

warnings: fluff, established relationship

words: 1.4k

a/n: i love this one tbh :)

navigation ficmas masterlist

It had been your idea to bring Mattheo home for Christmas. Of course it had. You’d argued for it, certain your parents wouldn’t mind—and they didn’t. In fact, they’d been surprisingly enthusiastic about it. They liked Mattheo, for one, and they knew enough about his home life—or lack thereof—to see why he might need an escape for the holidays. Besides, the thought of leaving him behind in that cold, empty manor while you went off to bake cookies and trim trees with your family felt unbearable.  

What you hadn’t planned for was your little sister.  

The moment she saw Mattheo, her eyes went wide, her lips parted in a tiny gasp, and for once, she didn’t have a single smart remark. You’d expected her usual groaning protest of Ew, boys are gross or Whatever, he’s probably boring. But instead, she just stood there staring up at him, as though he were some sort of fairy tale prince who’d stepped straight out of one of her bedtime stories.  

“Hey,” Mattheo had said gently, crouching down to her level. He had that rare, soft smile on his face—the one he reserved only for you, and apparently now, six-year-old girls. “You must be the famous little sister. I’ve heard all about you.”  

Her face had turned scarlet, and she’d ducked behind your leg, clutching your jeans for dear life. You’d raised an eyebrow at Mattheo, trying to stifle a laugh. Well, this is new. 

From then on, it was as though she’d claimed him. Every time you turned around, there she was, dragging him off for some new adventure. At first, it was cute. Endearing, even. She’d taken him by the hand to show him the ornaments she’d made for the tree, chattering on about how she’d painted the reindeer one herself. He’d listened patiently, nodding and smiling as though her ramblings were the most fascinating thing he’d ever heard.  

But then it escalated.  

By the second day, you found them at her little pink tea table, tiny porcelain cups in hand. Mattheo’s long legs were awkwardly folded beneath him as he pretended to sip imaginary tea. You’d leaned in the doorway, arms crossed, biting your lip to keep from laughing.  

“Really?” you’d asked, grinning. “A tea party?”  

“She made me a very convincing argument,” Mattheo replied, deadpan, though the corners of his mouth twitched with amusement. “Also, I think this is her way of letting me know who’s in charge here.”  

You’d laughed then, shaking your head, but something about the way your sister beamed up at him had made you pause.  

It wasn’t long before her demands grew bolder. She’d roped him into baking cookies—flour dusted all over his dark jumper—and insisted he give her a piggyback ride around the house. And though Mattheo obliged her every request with good-natured patience, you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of annoyance.

Because every time you tried to steal a moment alone with him, she was already there, wedged firmly between the two of you.  

On the third day, you figured maybe it was time to steal back your boyfriend.

“Where is he?” you muttered, stalking through the house. The smell of gingerbread lingered in the air, and somewhere, you could hear your sister’s giggles echoing down the hall.  

You found them in the living room. She was perched on Mattheo’s back, her little arms wrapped tightly around his neck as he crawled on all fours, pretending to be a dragon.  

“Really?” you said, crossing your arms as you stood in the doorway.  

Mattheo glanced up at you, his curls falling into his eyes. He was grinning. “What?”  

“She’s hogging you,” you said, your voice teetering on the edge of a whine.  

“She’s six,” he replied, raising an eyebrow. “You jealous of a six-year-old?”  

“What? No, I just– you know what? You two have fun, I’m gonna go help my mom with wrapping.”

And by the fourth day, you’d had enough.  

You didn’t know whether to scoff or to smile as you watched Mattheo from the doorway of the kitchen. He stood at the counter, sleeves rolled up, flour dusting his dark shirt as he helped your little sister roll out sugar cookie dough. His hands were comically large compared to hers, yet he moved with such careful precision, as if afraid to crush her tiny fingers by accident.

Your sister giggled, a sound that echoed through the space like a bell, and your chest tightened at how easily Mattheo coaxed that sound from her. It was endearing—no, more than endearing. It was heartwarming. But also…infuriating.

You stepped into the room, leaning against the counter as you folded your arms. “How’s it going in here?”

Mattheo glanced up at you, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “It’s going great. We’re making masterpieces, aren’t we, kid?”

Your sister nodded vigorously, her pigtails bouncing as she beamed up at him. “Mattheo says my snowman looks perfect!”

You raised a brow, biting back a smile. “Perfect, huh? Even though his head is sliding off his body?”

Mattheo chuckled, brushing a streak of flour off his arm. “It’s an abstract snowman,” he said smoothly, turning back to the dough. “He’s got character.”

Your sister giggled again, clearly thrilled by his attention, and you felt the beginnings of that familiar pang of annoyance. You’d invited Mattheo here for you, not so he could spend every waking moment entertaining your sister.

“Right,” you said, stepping closer and nudging him lightly with your hip. “Well, I’m stealing him now. We were supposed to watch a movie, remember?”

Mattheo looked over at you, his dark eyes sparkling with amusement. “Baby, are you jealous of a six-year-old?”

Your mouth opened, indignation flaring to life, but before you could respond, your sister tugged on his sleeve. “Wait! We still have to make the reindeer cookies! You promised!”

Mattheo crouched slightly, bringing himself to her level as he smiled at her. “And we’ll make those, I swear. But your big sister’s giving me that look, and I think I’d better listen to her before she drags me out of here.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the way your lips twitched upward. “I’m not giving you a look.”

“Oh, you’re giving me a look,” he teased, standing to his full height and brushing his hands off on a towel. He leaned closer, lowering his voice so only you could hear. “You’re practically glaring at me. I’d almost say it’s cute.”

“Don’t push your luck, Riddle,” you muttered, though your cheeks burned at the way his breath ghosted against your skin.

Your sister pouted, crossing her arms. “But Mattheo—”

“I’ll be back,” he promised her, giving her a playful wink. “And when I am, we’ll make the best reindeer cookies anyone’s ever seen. Deal?”

She huffed, clearly not pleased, but she nodded anyway, her pout softening.

You grabbed Mattheo’s wrist, tugging him toward the living room before your sister could protest again. “Come on. You’re mine, remember?”

He let you pull him away, laughing softly under his breath. Once you reached the living room, you rounded on him, poking a finger at his chest. “You’re supposed to be spending time with me. Me, Mattheo. Not my sister. Me.”

“Is this really happening right now?” he asked, smirking down at you. “You’re actually jealous of a six-year-old.”

“Okay, first of all, I’m not jealous,” you shot back, though your words sounded more defensive than you intended. “I just don’t like sharing, especially when it’s you. And second, it’s not my fault she suddenly decided she loves boys after swearing for years that they had cooties!”

Mattheo grinned, his hands coming up to rest on your hips. “So what you’re saying is…I’m irresistible.”

You groaned, dropping your face into your hands. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you love me anyway.”

You peeked at him through your fingers, finding his gaze soft and affectionate, his smirk less teasing now and more genuine. Your frustration melted away as quickly as it had come, replaced by a warm, fluttery feeling in your chest.

“Yeah,” you admitted, dropping your hands and stepping closer to him. “I do.”

“And for the record,” he murmured, leaning down until his lips brushed your temple, “I’m yours. Always.”

​​ficmas taglist: @winnie1emon @ur-local-wizard @satosugu4-ever @ankoluvs @superstargirll @slytherin-princess-x @abeoavita @mattheoriddle101 @georgiastars13 @smoooore @mattheoriddles-sluttt @2dloveshp @mattysprincess @catching-fire-in-the-wind @revesephemeres @esmerai-artemis @clar2aa @iamaconfusedpan

[helpimstuckposting]

From Santa

Prompt: Magic | Rating: G | Wordcount: 2,957 | AO3 | @steddiebingo

Steve was seven when he found out that Santa did not exist. He tried, once, the whole ‘Santa’ thing. After hearing the stories from kids at school, he ran over to Melvald’s and bought a tin of cookies with his allowance before skipping excitedly home. Some of the kids mentioned feeding the magic deer, because flying took a lot out of them obviously, and Steve wasn’t quite sure what magic deer ate, but he left out a few carrots in the yard just in case.

He was so excited, setting out the cookies in front of the big tree in the living room and hoping he’d wake up to find a present underneath, just for him. Maybe it would be a cool Hess Truck like Tommy wanted, or maybe it would be an action figure, or comic books, or maybe his parents would come home. The other kids said Santa was magic, that he could do anything, so Steve wasn’t picky.

He went to bed excited and could barely close his eyes to sleep, but the other kids said Santa didn’t come if you were awake so Steve tried his very best. He finally fell asleep with the taste of ginger snaps on his tongue (there was a whole tin, and Santa had hundreds, maybe thousands of cookies every night, so he didn’t think Santa would mind one less).

He woke up to a spotless and quiet house, no puddles from snow on Santa’s boots, no bites out of the cookies, and no present under the tree. No parents either. Steve didn’t have any more cookies that day. He couldn’t bear it.

When his parents arrived a week later, Steve was greeted not by hugs and exclamations of how much his parents missed him, but by his mother loudly and forcefully demanding answers to why her yard was scattered with gross old carrots, drying and cracking and covered in mud from the melted snow. So he told her. He told her about Santa and how he wanted him to come, how he went to bed early like a good boy, and waited all night. How he didn’t show up.

She laughed.

It was cold and icy, like the shards still hanging from the gutters on their roof. She told him he shouldn’t be impatient for his presents — they were in the car like always — and really, Steven, it doesn’t look good for a boy to be so demanding, and the presents certainly weren’t from Santa because the man did not exist.

Santa didn’t exist.

So yes, Steve knew from a young age that the jolly man in the coat and hat was simply a lie — told to children to excite them and give them something to look forward to. He didn’t really get it at first; were the presents not enough? Was the week off from school not exciting? Did they not look forward to Christmas morning without the story of a man sneaking down the chimney? But he’d also fallen for it. He was so excited, he liked the idea of feeding the magic deer, and leaving a treat out for someone delivering gifts out of kindness. He liked the story, that a man with so much power wanted to use it to make children happy. He liked being thought of, liked being remembered by someone he didn’t even know, liked that it was a reward for being nice throughout the year.

But it wasn’t true. And that was fine, Steve tried to convince himself. He still got the presents, and he still got his parents, even if they were a week late. He still got a hug from his nanny, and his mom let him have the rest of the ginger snaps, and he didn’t even have to clean up the carrots from the yard.

His parents left again, and school started again, and it was fine.

It was fine, until Tommy came barreling through the door with his Hess Truck held high and the praise of Santa spewing from his lips, and Steve noticed that not everyone shared in Tommy’s delight. Most of them did, and a lot of them brought their favorite toy to school just like Tommy, but a few kids (maybe three) sat still in their chairs — like they could avoid any questions if they blended into the background. They ducked their heads and they sank in their seats, and Steve wondered if they also found out Santa wasn’t real.

But Tommy singled one kid out at recess. He dragged him out, to the center of the playground, and told everyone that Santa didn’t go to trailer parks, that the kids in Forest Hills didn’t get presents from Santa, because only good kids got presents, and how could they be good if they lived in a junk yard. Those words didn’t sound like Tommy, but he was always repeating things his dad said, copying him and taking his word as gospel.

The kid, scrawny with a shaved head and angry brown eyes, sank into his shoes. Not in retreat, not in a cowering way. He sank into his shoes like he was grounding himself, like he was making sure his footing was firm and steady, and he shoved Tommy right into the ground.

Of course, only then did a teacher interject, and only the boy Steve didn’t know the name of was dragged away to the office. Tommy angrily scrambled to his feet and spat at the ground where the kid had stood, remarking that he was right and the Forrest Hills kids were definitely on the naughty list, Steve, wasn’t he right? Did he see that? What a freak that kids was.

Steve rolled his eyes and didn’t say anything. He knew interrupting Tommy was just more hassle than it was worth, and Tommy was wrong anyway because Santa wasn’t real. He’d figure it out eventually, Steve supposed, but he wasn’t going to be the one to tell him.

It was his walk home that gave him an idea. He saw the bus pass by as he trudged along, down the road and off in the direction of Forrest Hills trailer park. He wondered if that kid from recess was there, if he saw Steve out the window as he passed, if he really didn’t get any presents. He thought about all the gifts his parents gave him that were still packaged up in his closet because he had too many and he didn’t really like them all. And he thought about how much he wanted someone to think about him on Christmas, with no other purpose or desire but to make him happy.

So, with an inkling of an idea creeping its way through his head, he ran the rest of the way home and pulled out the phone book from the hallway table, as well as his yearbook from the previous year. There weren’t many numbers from Forrest Hills, but he did find the three kids from his class and a couple from the year above. He picked out which of his unopened presents he thought they’d like the most, and he wrapped them crudely in leftover paper he found in the study. He ripped off a few pages from the note pad by the phone, and wrote out in his best writing:

From Santa, sorry I was late

And then:

P.S. my elf wrote this

Because his best writing was still pretty bad.

It took him a couple days to plan and gather things, but in the dead of night — after his neighbors clicked off their porch lights — he piled all five presents into a little red wagon and tied the wagon to the end of his bike. He took off toward Forrest Hills, a little list of names and addresses crinkled in his pocket. He tip-toed around the dirt paths, freezing in fear every time his little wagon’s wheels squeaked, and placed the presents and the notes from ‘Santa’ on the doorsteps that matched his little list. He checked it twice, just for fun.

He felt lighter on the ride back home, and not just because his wagon was empty.

Steve was seven when he decided to become Santa himself.

It wasn’t obvious, the next day at school, and Steve didn’t do it just to listen to kids whisper about Santa visiting Forrest Hills a week late, but he did notice something. The three kids who had sunk low in their seats the first day back, who avoided talking to the others to brag about their presents, were no longer trying to blend into the background. They sat comfortably in their seats, and whispered among themselves, eyes twinkling a little more than they had a few days ago. Steve was ecstatic. He sat, buzzing silently with excitement as he tried to keep his face blank and neutral. Santa had to be kept secret, after all.

He did it again the next year, adding the newest kids to his list from the years below him, and saved up his allowance to get some cuter presents for the girls; some nail polish and art supplies, some coloring books and beads. This time he wasn’t late, and his handwriting had improved a lot from the year before (though he still blamed the elves for his wonky letters).

He had fun, learning how to wrap the paper around each gift, saving up his money to pick out presents he hoped the other kids would like, wondering what their faces looked like when they opened the door to find a present on their front step.

He was a little worried that the kids would be concerned Santa hadn’t made it inside, being magic and all, but he also noticed that none of the trailers had chimneys so maybe that was okay. He also learned that most of the kids in Forrest Hills did get presents, and he felt a little stupid for assuming they didn’t just from Tommy’s dumb comments, but he also knew they weren’t the fancy presents other kids got like bikes and new games.

He tried making his Santa presents a little more extravagant. After all, why would Santa give Tommy a brand new Lego set, but give Willie across town a pack of baseball cards? Steve just wanted to even the playing field a bit, knock Tommy down a peg or two when he tried humiliating another kid on the playground and that kid said Actually Tommy, I got the new Hess Truck from Santa, too! And Steve remembered wrapping it up, much neater this time, and almost getting caught on the stoop when a dog started barking at him. He muffled a giggle into his hand when Tommy floundered for something to say, coming up empty handed.

As the years passed and the kids in his grade stopped believing in Santa, he scratched their names off his list. He kept adding to it as well, though. He paid attention to the new kids in each grade, noticed if they had a little less than those around them, noticed if they were on the outskirts or if they looked a little nervous as the holidays drew nearer and nearer. He left presents for the Byers one year when he heard that Jon’s mom lost her job after his dad left. He left presents almost all over town, had the phone book highlighted with every address he wrote down in his notebook — a much needed upgrade from the crumpled piece of paper in his pocket. He wrote a list, he checked it twice, and he made sure to slip through the dark like a shadow, avoiding anything that might give him away.

He was always surprised when no adults tried to stop him. Surely, the stoop presents were well known throughout town by the time Steve reached high school, but maybe they didn’t want to know who was behind it. Maybe they wanted to keep the magic alive, too. Either way, Steve played a successful Santa for nearly two decades before anyone found out.

It was Eddie.

It was always Eddie.

Eddie, the boy who knocked Tommy clear to the ground that first winter. Eddie, the boy who made Steve want to help. Eddie, the boy who received the first ever gift from Hawkin’s own Santa, though Steve kind of hoped that was a secret he could keep.

They were putting up the tree in their apartment, the first Christmas they were spending together. Eddie had brought several old ornaments from the trailer, ones that he stole from right under Wayne’s nose because lord knows the man wouldn’t want to part with them if he didn’t have to — a collector, that man was. Steve picked up one that, at first, had been unassuming, a clear bauble filled with glitter. Hanging it on the sad twiggy branch of their Charlie Brown tree, however, he noticed a little piece of paper inside. It was aged and a bit crumpled, but not too shabby for how old it was.

From Santa, sorry I was late, it read in squiggled, messy handwriting, the wonky letters leaning to one side more than the other.

P.S. my elf wrote this

Steve stared at it for entirely too long, catching Eddie’s attention as he hung the last ornament.

“Wayne made that one, if you can believe it,” Eddie said, tapping the plastic bauble with the nail of his pointer finger. “I mean, not the note,” he clarified, “that was Santa.” He whispered the last part conspiratorially, as if letting Steve in on a huge secret. Steve felt like he was going to cry, suddenly, the tears pricking behind his eyes. With a start he realized, selfishly, that he didn’t want Eddie to know. He wanted to keep this mystery alive for just a little longer, like a parent too sad to let their child grow out of the world of magic and wonder, like it was too soon though the secret had been brewing for nearly twenty years.

Eddie wrapped a cautious arm around Steve’s shoulders, unsure of where his sudden teary-eyed expression came from. Instead of facing his questioning look, Steve tucked his head into the crook of Eddie’s neck and listened as the man regaled him with the story of his first ever gift from the Santa Claus.

That year, Wayne had lost his job as a trucker because Eddie had fallen into his lap. He couldn’t leave the kid all alone, had to stay and take care of him, and he was between jobs until the holiday snuck right up on them both. They had a tree, just as shabby and sparse as the one they currently stood in front of, but there was no money to spare for gifts. Wayne had apologized, and Eddie had been very understanding for an eight year old — after all, he had been learning not to rely on adults, anyway.

He’d gotten in trouble when the school year resumed, however, for shoving an insufferable Tommy Hagan to the ground during recess. Of course Tommy hadn’t gotten in trouble, since vigilantism was an under appreciated form of justice, Eddie declared. Steve snorted into Eddie’s neck, just imagining the ranting tirade the skinny boy with a shaved head must have gone on, trying to defend himself to the principal.

Eddie was furious as he got back home, pissed off at Hagan, pissed off at his parents, pissed off at the world. And then — what to his wondering eyes did appear — two days later, Wayne had opened the door to the shittiest wrapped present he’d ever seen. Steve bit his tongue. It was for Eddie, according to the name scribbled onto the wrapping paper, and the little note declared it was a lost gift from Santa.

“Like magic,” Eddie smiled.

Steve had no idea that was his first Christmas at Wayne’s, and he had no clue what that first shove on the playground could lead to. He could still picture Eddie’s scrunched brow as he glared daggers at Tommy, could still remember the way he sank into his shoes and grounded himself for a fight, like he was used to it, like he knew what was coming. He wished he could picture Eddie’s face as he realized Santa hadn’t forgotten about him.

“Anyway,” he said, startling Steve from his thoughts, still tucked away in Eddie’s neck, “Wayne kept that note, and I think he’s got the one from the next year, too. He’d saved enough money for a couple presents that year, but I think he was grateful for a little extra help.”

Steve pictured himself, a tiny little thing, curled up in the living room, all alone on Christmas Eve as he wrapped up presents and wrote out his Santa letters. He remembered feeling less alone for the first Christmas in forever, because he was too busy sticking too much tape onto glittery wrapping paper and worrying about not getting caught to care that his parents weren’t home again.

He thought about the bag full of presents, tucked away in the back of the closet so Eddie wouldn’t find them, and his list of kids he collected from the library’s giving tree. He had planned on sneaking out, planned to slip away from Eddie’s prone form and deliver the gifts alone, like always, but Eddie squeezed his shoulder and kissed the top of his head and he realized that he didn’t have to be alone anymore. Maybe this year there could be two Santas, delivering gifts to the children of Hawkins in the dead of night. Maybe this year he could have some help. Maybe this year, there could be twice as much magic as the year before.

—

Bingo Prompts

[hxlxnaaa]

𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞

★ synopsis: workaholic marine biologist discovers a new species that was only believed to exist within stories. while heavily focused on her new groundbreaking research, she tries to figure out her feelings for her shiny new toy.

★ character: rafayel

★ cw: first-person pov, merman rafayel, a bit of angst towards the end but nothing too crazy

★ word count: 3.7k

★ a/n: as a former marine bio major, i got to nerd out ab fish and raf (yay!!), set in main storyline era, but reader is obviously a biologist and not a hunter (raf is also not the sea god in this). tried to stick to lemurian lore, but kinda threw my own stuff in too. sorry if the ending seems a bit rushed, i lowkey tapped out, but overall i'm pretty proud of this!!

It was moments like these that made me love what I do.

I was in the pool room of the facility, a dome with towering window walls, and a large circular pool in the middle that connected to the sea outside. It was mainly used by me, and I was fortunate enough to be the only one with access, as I was the only field expert in the facility. I worked hands-on with marine life, collecting samples that I would send to the lab upstairs.

In the early mornings like these, I could finally just take a breath before starting my day and watch the sunrise all around me. Watch the way it would slowly illuminate the room, reflecting off the water that rippled with the morning wind. I could feel the weight lift off my shoulders because sunny, clear mornings like this made the stress of work worthwhile.

Not that I’d rather be anywhere else.

I checked the pool, seeing what creature may have found its way in. To my dismay, it was just another handful of mackerel that had probably gotten lost from its school. That’s all it’s been lately, a few strays from the euphotic zone. The bottom of the pool was an open hatch leveled with the sea, since the lowest level of the facility sat directly in the water. When motion was detected, the floor of the pool would close off, trapping whatever got caught inside. If I were lucky, maybe it would be a cute sea turtle or a shark, but those days were rare.

Disgruntled, I opened the hatch that had closed, setting the mackerel free. Inwardly I prepared for another boring afternoon, praying for another field work day when I could actually go out to sea.

-

Coming back from grabbing coffee from the breakroom and a few more test tubes from the lab upstairs, I made my way back to the pool room. From inside, I heard a loud groaning.

“OWWWW.”

Frantically I key carded my way into the room, the doors sliding open to reveal a strange man in the pool.

I stood frozen in place, not sure what free diver could have possibly found his way in, and… Why was he shirtless?

“Are you just going to stand there or are you going to help me?” The man glared.

I learned from years of working in the sea to stay calm and assert dominance, so striding forward with as much grace as I could muster-

My jaw dropped.

The man had odd markings painted on his skin and face, in intricate beautiful designs. He was clad in golden jewelry, draped with a chiffon sash. Despite being fresh out of the water, his dusty purple hair was nearly dry, and I was sure he was the most beautiful man I had ever seen. There was something otherworldly about him, not like anyone I had seen before.

That was when I noticed the tail.

It was amazing, and I screeched with joy. The iridescent blue scales matched the ones on his cheeks and neck, and it had to be as long as I was tall.

The man leaned against the bars on the pool, narrowing his eyes at me. “Your stupid machine hurt me.”

I stared at him laughing with excitement, “What are you?”

“Did you hear me? I said I was hurt.”

My eyes traveled over him, he didn’t appear to be hurt or even in much pain. He held out his hand, adorned with gold bangles and painted nails, “It pinched my finger.”

I shook my head, “Sorry, sometimes it malfunctions. It’s supposed to have a safety mechanism so fish can’t get caught in the doors.”

“Yes, well, you need to fix it.”

Whatever this man was, he had an attitude problem.

“I’m going back to my first question,” I circled the pool like a predator with its prey. The man-fish thing followed me with his eyes, and I stopped back in front of him. “What the hell are you?”

He rolled his eyes, “I think that’s quite obvious. I know humans aren’t that stupid.”

Stunned, I continued to stare at him. Of course I knew what a mermaid was, everyone always told stories of the ancient Lemurians, but that’s all it was. A story.

Yet, here in front of me, was a man with a fish tail.

Excitement continued to bubble up inside me and I started clapping my hands with glee, “Oh my gosh this is perfect. You’re perfect.”

He raised an eyebrow at me, “If I’m so perfect can we get rid of these prison walls? What are these even for anyways-” As he started to rattle on the bars.

“They’re so the fish can’t beach themselves when I’m not here,” Opening the gate so I could sink down to his level, I took off my shoes so I could sit on the ledge. Grabbing his face in my hands, I turned it side to side, observing closely the glitter of his scales underneath my fingers, “Your skin is so cold, yet you have hair…But you have scales… Are you a mammal, or…”

He smirked at me, taking my grabby hands away from his skin, “Y’know you could at least take me out to dinner first.”

I frowned, bothered with the interruption of my observations. Standing back up, I moved away to start grabbing collection and testing kits, “Can you hop up where I was please? Or will you need assistance? I have a sling-”

“I can do it.”

Watching as he pulled himself up and out of the water, biceps flexing as he lifted himself, I wondered how a fish could possibly get that ripped.

I sat down beside him, “You have no obvious gills…”

The man scoffed, and I put on my stethoscope. I placed it over where, if he had them, his lungs would be.

“Deep breath in,” Watching as he took an inhale through his nose, and listened as his lungs took in a breath of air.

“Lungs.” Confirming my thoughts.

Placing the drum over his heart, I realized his heartbeat was racing.

“I don’t understand-” He started, before I placed my finger over his lips.

“Shush, no talking.”

We sat there like that for a minute, before I pulled away, “120/60, is your heart rate usually that fast?”

Glaring at me, he crossed his arms, “No, I just don’t usually have random girls assaulting me.”

As I pulled out different test tubes, I rambled out questions to him that were mostly just thoughts in my head.

“Where did you come from? How do you speak English? Where do you live?”

“First of all,” He shunned away at the sight of a needle, “my name is Rafayel. Since you haven’t even bothered to ask.”

“Secondly, I came from the sea, duh. Didn’t even mean to get caught in this stupid thing…” The man winced as I pricked his finger, and I laughed, “Well you sure are compliant for being ‘assaulted’ by a stranger.”

“I have no choice! You have all these weapons for poking and prodding! Anyways, I speak every language, it comes from being Lemurian-”

I stopped, “You’re Lemurian?”

He rolled his eyes, “I thought the tail would’ve given that away.”

Silently I continued to work, thinking less about the fact that a real Lemurian was in front of me, and more about how this would affect the studies of the sea and marine life as a whole. More than 80% of the sea is unexplored, and the idea of Lemuria being part of it opens up a whole new doorway to the future of research. Not only that, but the fact that Rafayel was relatively eager to comply.

He watched me with his galaxy colored eyes, that seemed almost as wide with wonder as mine were. We seemed fascinated with each other, and maybe that’s why he was so calm about all of this. It’s not every day you’d let a stranger go full blown crazy scientist on you.

“Am I going to learn anything about you?” His question startled me, and it hadn’t even crossed my mind he knew nothing about me. My only focus had been on discovering who and what this creature was.

“Oh, I’m sorry, that’s my bad.” I introduced myself, and told him about my work as a marine biologist. He let me gripe about the lack of interesting catches in the pool as of late, and how my passion lies with whales.

“I don’t get to go out into the field often,” I explained, “but when I do it’s always the best. Being able to dive, and being out at sea for a few weeks studying the bigger or deeper animals we can’t get in the pool.”

“What about when you’re here?” Rafayel looked around the room as if it was an interesting enough place to work. To him, this probably seemed more fun than exploring the place he’s lived his whole life.

I sighed, “I’m never not here; but I mean, it’s fine I guess, it’s just you can only collect so many samples of the same few creatures before you get bored.” Smiling at him, I ran my fingers through his hair…

“That’s why you, my dear, are my new muse.”

-

To my surprise, Rafayel came back after that. I half expected him to just disappear, deeming me crazy and warning his fellow Lemurians about ‘that one weird marine biologist’. I’d kiss goodbye the breakthrough of research he could’ve given me, and go back to slaving over the same boring fish every day.

The next morning, he was in the pool bright and early, his head sitting in his crossed arms on the ledge.

He smiled when he saw me waltz in, “You’re here early.”

“I always am,” I shrugged, “do Leumrians not sleep?”

“Sometimes.”

We quickly slipped into a routine. He’d show up in the early mornings, and stay with me until I went home that night. Even if I ran out of samples to collect, waiting for lab results, he’d perch himself up on the ledge with me and watch me read old textbooks about old Lemurian history, or anatomy books about different kinds of marine mammals.

Rafayel would snatch the Lemurian books out of my hands, “You know, I can tell you everything you need to know.”

“Yes, well, you’re an unreliable narrator.” I’d grab the book back.

Though he had a tendency to exaggerate, I really did enjoy all the stories he would tell me; his tail in my lap as I’d compare it to previous studies I had done on scales, he’d go on about Lemurian people, boasting about the beauty of the city and explaining their culture. I’d sit and nod, humming responses as I carefully analyzed him.

I believed Rafayel kept coming back because he simply loved being doted over. Some part of him got off on the attention, seeing the way my face would light up when I put pieces of the puzzle together, grabbing his face in my hands with excitement.

“Raf this is amazing news!” I’d laugh, squeezing his face with one hand, shaking lab results in the air with another.

“I don’t know what you’re on about…” He’d say through smushed cheeks, but his eyes would twinkle and defy his feigned annoyance.

Sometimes, if I ran out of things to do, he’d use his ‘magical Lemurian powers’ (his words, not mine) to lure in some different creatures, giving me extra stuff to send to the lab upstairs. One day I had been giving a bit too much attention to a stingray he had summoned, and Rafayel started sighing from the other side of the pool.

“What's wrong now?” I asked, not even looking up at him, focusing my attention on extracting the stringer from the stingray's tail.

He sighed loudly again.

This time, my eyes met his, and he flopped down onto his back, pouting dramatically. Once I had gathered everything I needed, and set the poor creature free, I walked over to where Rafayel was still laying on his back, displeased.

He looked up at me through his eyelashes, and quickly turned his head to the side, “If I’m your muse then why are you giving so much attention to these random fish!”

Crouching down by his head, I poked his cheek, “You’re the one who summons them for me.”

“Well if this is the case, then I’m not gonna help anymore!” Sticking out his lower lip, Rafayel side-eyed me.

“I’m ever so sorry for doing my job, I shall never give another fish attention again besides you.”

He smirked, satisfied with my response.

Rafayel was always like this, oddly infatuated with me and jealous. He seemed pleased I didn’t have much of a social life outside of work, as my only focus was him. Often, he had a habit of prying into my thoughts, asking a million questions about myself. Some were simple, like where I went to school and what kind of music I enjoyed. Others were questions I never even thought about.

“How do you see your future?”

I snapped my head up from my book to look at him, “I’m sorry?”

He stared right into my eyes, almost as if he was trying to read my mind, “What do you see yourself doing in the future?”

“I don’t know, working probably.” I tried to shrug off the question.

“Do you ever want a family?”

“I don’t think I’d have time.”

“Well, you seem to have plenty of time for me.”

-

After that, I noticed a lot more how his eyes would follow me. How he’d rest his hand on my waist as I’d bandage him up from blood collection. The prolonged eye contact, the longing smiles, how his cheeks and ears would turn pink when I’d call him my muse.

To quote Rafayel simply, “Humans aren’t that stupid.”

I knew. I mean, I’m a scientist, I had a fair amount of common sense. Even though I spent most of my time with fish doesn’t mean I don’t know when a man likes me.

It’s not like I wasn’t attracted to him either, it would be impossible not to be. Rafayel is beautiful, just like the world that surrounds him; he’s the sea, the absolute personification of my first love. He’s spunky and brave, sassy yet kind, and despite my immediate joy about him regarding the future of marine research, it’s gone so far beyond that. My care for him has ascended past study and data, into a place I was scared to approach.

What was I supposed to do? Keep him in my bathtub for the rest of my life? A swimming pool in my backyard? This was work, this was business, this is the future; nothing is going to get in the way of that. Not my stupid feelings, nor his.

In the evening, before I was getting ready to go home, I was taking one final look at Rafayels scales on his face and neck.

“They’re so beautiful…” I muttered under my breath, inches away from his face. His scales were what fascinated me the most, despite it being the least interesting fact I had discovered about this humanoid. Somehow, a mammal having scales like this was utterly enchanting. Tracing the way they were engraved into his skin, he opened one of his eyes to look at me.

“Do you want one?” Rafayel asked.

“I wouldn’t want just one, I’d need enough to make a necklace.” Softly smiling, I playfully picked at one of them.

“Have I told you the Lemurian tradition of giving up one of our scales?”

“Mm, briefly…”

He tilted his head forward, as if he were telling me top secret information, “When we give one of our scales to someone, it bonds us for life. An eternal love that traverses through anything, whole universes.” Both eyes open now, the look in them told me I already had been given thousands of his scales.

I pushed his head back with one of my fingers, “You’re already bonded to me for life, at least until I can figure you out.”

Rafayel leaned towards me again, and I grabbed his face,

“Hold still.”

He frowned.

-

“Rafayel~” Walking into the pool room I sang out to him like usual, only to find the pool empty.

After nearly a year of seeing him every single day, for the first time, he was nowhere to be seen.

My heart sank, was it because I had rejected him?

I sat by the pool, filled with mackerel, and just waited…

And waited…

And waited…

I watched the sun begin to set through the large windows, covering the room in an orange glow. Rafayel always had a habit of complaining about the way the sun would shine in his eyes, but would quickly quiet down as he saw me stare out at the sea longingly; there was so much love in his eyes I thought it might suffocate him if he didn’t let it out.

I guess he finally had enough.

Tears threatened to pour as the sky turned dark, the room only lit up with the light of the moon.

Frustrated, I cursed him under my breath. How dare he ruin this for me? How could he let his own feelings get in the way of the bright future I had made for marine research? I wanted to hit him upside the head for giving me all of this information and data, just to up and leave, leaving my study on a cliffhanger.

How could he leave me?

The next day, for the first time in years, I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to get out of bed. Let alone go to work. I hated him for making me feel this way, for breaking down my walls so much that I was ready to give up the only thing I had going for me.

I went anyway.

Walking up to the doors of the pool room, I thought about just turning around and going home. I was going to waste my time with a school of fish that I had already collected hundreds of samples from, when I could just go back to my bed and rot, grieving the future of science and my broken heart.

Just as I was about to turn on my heel and leave, I heard soft singing from inside, a voice I recognized easily.

Practically breaking the doors open, I ran inside.

Sitting in a chair in the corner of the room, reading a textbook as if nothing was wrong, was the man I wanted to strangle with my bare hands.

He looked up at me, frowning, “You’re late.”

Once the adrenaline of seeing him wore off, I noticed where he was.

Outside of the pool, in a chair, with no help, with…

“Legs!” I screeched, exasperated.

“Yeah, okay, good to see you too I guess.” Rafayel scoffed, going back to the book. This time it was my turn to snatch it out of his hands.

“Rafayel, this changes everything! All of my studies!” I put my face in my hands, shaking my head.

“That's what you have to say about this? I don’t show up to try and play hard to get, and this is what I get?” He glared at me, “You didn’t even miss me!”

“Why didn’t you tell me you could grow legs!”

“I was trying to humor you!”

I threw my hands up in desperation, pacing back and forth. Rafayel started mumbling something in a language I didn’t understand, clearly mad.

“Is that all I am to you?” He spit out at me, like his words were acid, “Some science experiment?” I shot my head in his direction, narrowing my eyes, “You know as well as I do that’s not the case.”

“If that's not the case, then why are you doing this to me? Acting like you care and there’s something here, then putting your walls back up. Am I just being manipulated for your work?” Rafayel stood up, peering down at me, “Just some testing animal that you keep here in your tank?”

“Raf…No…Of course not.” I promised, seeing the look of hurt in his eyes made my heart squeeze in guilt. Tracing the painted marking on his cheek, I noticed the scales on his face and neck were nowhere to be seen.

His demeanor quickly switched at my touch, grabbing my hands in desperation, pulling them to his chest and clutching my fingers over his heart.

“I don’t care.” Rafayel stated.

“What?”

“I don’t care what you do. You can have me for life; study me, use me, publish me for the world to see, I don’t care. I just want you in return.”

He fell to his knees, holding his hands tightly on my waist. Looking up at me with a pleading look in his eyes, Rafayel started muttering what I could only make out to be a Lumerian prayer I had read in one of the textbooks, “Please.” He cried.

“Rafayel, just stand up.”

“Please.” He repeated.

I stared down at him, “Raf-”

“Please, no, just say you want me. Say you’ll have me. Open this door, I know you’re scared, but I’ll figure it out.”

“Rafayel.”

“Put your trust in me. I’ll give you all my scales, my blood, my life, please, be mine, I’m already yours; be mine.”

I fell to my knees with him, smashing my lips onto his. Tangling my hand in his hair, the other clutching onto his sash, I felt like I was trying to kiss the life out of him. I wanted to merge my soul with his, I wanted to be a part of him, climb into his skin, breathe his air into my lungs. He tasted like the salt of the sea, his lips warm compared to the cold of his skin.

My walls crumbled, and with his hands on my skin, I realized nothing mattered more than him. No more research, no more work, just him.

I loved him so much, I could cry.

‘How do you see your future?’ He had asked so long ago.

With you, Rafayel.

Just you.

(divider by cafekitsune)

[insomniadreamzz]

Hi!

What do you think about Jinx x fem reader SNOWBALL FIGHT! I feel like it could be really fun. Maybe it could end getting tackled by Jinx and kissing in the snow!

This is just a thought I had, hope you have a great day!!!

Omg thats such a cute idea 😭😭❤️

———

Snowball fight

Jinx x Fem!Reader fluff

You hated that cold weather, you only went out because Jinx really wanted to go out in the snow with you and of course you couldn’t say no to her.

You hated the way that you couldn’t say no as the cold aur hit your face, only thing being warm was your hand which was holding Jinx‘s hand. Sometimes you wonder how she could do this, being out there without a jacket, clothed like always. You could figure out that she was already used to feeling cold so every attempt to make her wear warm clothing before going out failed.

„Jinx…you sure you’re not cold?“ You ask her the millionth time now, making her roll her eyes and a little grunt leaving her lips. „Nooo I am not“ She answered, letting go of your hand as she stormed through the snow, your legs freezing at only the look of her stomping through it as if it was nothing. You sighed, sometimes Jinx‘s inner child really took all of you but she was cute. You closed your eyes as you hugged herself, trying to warm yourself up before you felt something cold hit your face, followed by Jinx laughing at you.

„Oopsie! Your face is all white now toots!!“ She yelled at you, already having another snow ball in her hand. „You little-…“ You started with a chuckle but then decided to stop, forming a snowball in your hands before aiming at her. Of course Jinx used her shimmer for better speed so you didn’t hit her, only getting hit by another snowball of her.

„Hey! That’s not fair stop using your shimmer.“ You said, but there was still a smile on your face, already ready to throw again. „Well…okay I won’t do that again. Fair play.“ Jinx answered, giving in quickly and not wanting to be unfair towards you.

You both keep on throwing snowballs at each other, playing in the snow like little kids, letting both of your inner child out right now and it was beautiful, you even forgot about the cold, managing to hit Jinx every now and then as well.

You tried to dodge her attacks with a chuckle, running away from her to get a little time to form more nowballs but Jinx was already running after you, tripping over her own feet as she fell on you, making you both fall on the snow with a thud. Both of you laughing. Jinx lifted her head up, her hands on your shoulders as she looked down at you with a cute smile. „Got ya.“ She giggled and you moved your hands up in defense. „Alright alright I surrender. What does the winner want?“ You asked jokingly but she took your question serious. „Uhh…a kiss.“ She mentioned and the smile on your face couldn’t be wider.

You both kissed in the snow, both feeling warm and exhausted after the little game. It was a beautiful moment, you cupped her cheeks, pulling her more closer to kiss her even deeper, a hum leaving her lips. You both look at each other as you pulled back, both of your faces being red, probably because of the cold and the intimate moment you shared seconds ago. „I love you.“ You told her and she pecked your lips in response. „I love you too Toots.“

After admiring each other for a little more, Jinx got off you and helped you up. „How about getting home now into bed under our warm sheets?“ You suggested and Jinx nodded. „Yep! And maybe more cuddles??“

„Of course.“ You won‘t ever say no to cuddling, you loved it but of course you also know what cuddling meant especially when Jinx said it…knowing you will soon feel very hot.

You both made your way back home, holding hands like a fresh couple. You will always love her like the first time you fell for her.

[austinbutlerslovers]

How We Became Us

Label Mature 18+

Summary You’re a mom first, navigating the chaos of single motherhood with no time or desire for romance. But when a close friend introduces you to a handsome actor, your carefully guarded heart begins to open in ways you never expected.

🔗 Masterlist

💝Romantic Smut 💝 Austin pursuing • slow burn• guarded heart • single mom of 2•friends to lovers• romantic get away• fluff •first kiss•falling in love• sweet talk •body worship •praising •edging • fingering •oral on fem • clit play •sexual awakening• breast play •p in v• multiple orgasms• cream pie

📖 Proofreaders @purejasmine @magicovento

💌 Inspo via request: ( I had to get it perfect ✨ thank you for your patience)

How We Became Us

The movie set buzzed with energy as crew members scurried around adjusting lights, cameras, and equipment. 

You stood off to the side, balancing your two-year-old daughter on your hip, her chubby fingers tugging at your necklace, while your four-year-old son played with a toy car at your feet, repeatedly pushing it forward only to chase after it. 

His remote control for the car had been misplaced somewhere in the chaos of the morning, so he had resorted to manual play, his determination both endearing and exhausting. 

Your best friend, Emily—your childhood confidant turned big-time movie producer—had invited you for a behind-the-scenes visit to her latest project, American Speed. You were more focused on keeping your toddler from drooling all over your shirt than paying attention to the organized chaos around you.

“Come meet someone!” Emily called out, striding toward you with a grin. She gestured to a tall man following her—a striking figure with sandy-blonde hair, piercing blue eyes, and a laid-back smile. He wore a plain black T-shirt and jeans that seemed almost too normal for someone in Hollywood.

“This is Austin Butler,” Emily introduced. “Austin, this is my best friend I’ve been telling you about, and these are her little ones—”

“Jack and Lily,” you filled in, shifting your daughter on your hip as her toy slipped to the ground. “Sorry, I don’t have a free hand to shake.”

Austin bent down, picking up the toy before holding it out. “No problem. I think I’ve got this.” His warm smile lingered on your daughter as he gently handed the toy back to her. She giggled, and your heart warmed, but you weren’t about to let yourself be charmed that easily.

You cocked an eyebrow. “You don’t mind a little baby drool?”

“Not at all,” he said, straightening up. “I like kids.”

Emily smirked. “Austin’s starring in the movie. He’s kind of a big deal right now.”

“Ah,” you said, nonchalantly, bouncing Lily on your hip. “Sorry, I don’t keep up with movies these days. The last thing I saw in theaters was Sonic the Hedgehog Three—and only because Jack begged me.”

Austin chuckled, looking genuinely amused. “I can’t compete with Sonic, but I’ll take what I can get.”

His easygoing demeanor caught you off guard, and you found yourself smiling despite your initial wariness. Still, you had no intention of getting swept up in Hollywood charm. You were here for Emily and your kids.

The conversation shifted as Emily took Jack’s hand to show him around the set, leaving you and Austin standing there. “Let me guess,” you said. “You’re used to women throwing themselves at you?”

His laugh was soft and genuine. “Is it that obvious?”

“Just a hunch.” You adjusted Lily’s position and gave him a pointed look. “Don’t expect me to join the fan club.”

That only seemed to intrigue him more. “I wasn’t planning on it,” he said. “But how about coffee instead?”

Your eyes narrowed. “You’re asking me out? After knowing me for five minutes?”

“More like six,” he teased, his hands slipping into his pockets. “But yeah. I like your vibe.”

Emily returned at that moment, overhearing the exchange. “Go, I’ll watch the kids. You deserve a break.”

You hesitated. “I don’t think—”

“Go,” Emily insisted, already reaching for Lily. “Seriously. I’ve got this.”

Before you could argue, Lily was out of your arms, and Jack was waving happily as Emily led them away. Austin tilted his head toward the lot exit. “What do you say?”

With a resigned sigh, you followed him.

The café was small and cozy, a short walk from the studio, tucked away from the glitz of the city. You stirred your coffee absently as Austin sat across from you, his gaze steady. He was too attractive for his own good, but you weren’t about to let that rattle you.

“So,” he began, “what’s your story? How’d you end up raising two awesome kids on your own?”

You gave him a guarded smile. “That’s a long story. And not exactly first-date material.”

He nodded, his expression softening. “Fair enough. What should I know about you, then?”

“That I’m a mom first, everything else second. And I’m not looking for… this.” You gestured between the two of you. “Whatever it is.”

“Why not?” he asked, his tone curious rather than pushy.

“Because I’ve been burned before,” you admitted, your voice firm. “And I’m not interested in repeating history.”

Austin leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. “I get that. But not everyone’s going to hurt you.”

You met his gaze, something in his sincerity making you falter. “I don’t need saving, Austin.”

“I didn’t say you did,” he replied softly. “But maybe you deserve something good.”

His words hung in the air as you exchanged soft smiles and soon you slipped effortlessly into other topics. He understood your humor with ease, and the way he listened—really listened when you spoke—felt both disarming and endearing.

You got along so well that before you knew it, he smiled and asked for your number. Hesitant and caught off guard by how natural it felt, you found yourself slowly grinning as you typed it into his phone.

By the time you returned to the set, you had convinced yourself it was just a harmless coffee date, not the start of anything real—

Kneeling down to Jack and Lily’s level, his smile was warm and genuine.

“It was great meeting you, Jack,” he said, offering a light fist bump that made your son beam with pride. Then he turned to Lily, his tone soft and playful. “And you, little Lily, take good care of your mom, okay?” He grinned , and she giggled, clutching your leg shyly. Austin cutely winked at you before standing back up, the small gesture almost making you part of his fan club—though you’d never admit it.

Later that evening after you’d settled in from a whirlwind day your phone buzzed. Seeing Austin’s name appear on the screen so soon surprised you, but you picked up quickly brushing your excitement aside.

“Hey,” he greeted, his voice calm and confident. “I just wanted to say I really enjoyed meeting you today… and…” he paused for a moment, his tone carrying a hint of warmth, “I was wondering if you’re available for dinner at the end of the week. You know, so I can steal a little more of your time before you come up with an excuse to avoid me.”

You held back your laugh, and even though the guarded part of you wanted to say no, your curiosity got the better of you. “Dinner, huh? That’s a lot longer than a coffee date. You think you can handle me for that long?” you quipped, keeping your tone playful, even as the flutter in your stomach betrayed your nerves.

His chuckle was rich and smooth. “Oh, I can handle you,” he said, his tone laced with just enough confidence to make your cheeks warm.

You rolled your eyes to avoid showing it, but you couldn’t stop the smile creeping across your face. “Fine, dinner. But don’t think I’m easy to impress,” you said, trying to sound indifferent.

“Noted,” he replied, and you could practically hear the grin in his voice. “Friday at seven?”

“Friday at seven,” you agreed, already mentally running through your list of babysitters.

By Friday evening, you were standing in front of your closet, sighing at the assortment of clothing. Why were you so caught up in what to wear for him?

You settled on a modest yet flattering outfit—a fitted black dress with a low neck and long sleeves. It hugged your waist just enough to feel confident without being over the top. You paired it with simple earrings and ankle boots, letting your natural spark shine through with a subtle rouge lip.

When you arrived downtown at the restaurant it was a modern elegant Italian place with dim lighting and flickering candles reflecting off the polished marble floors and glass walls.

Austin was already there, waiting in the lobby. He looked effortlessly put together in a black shirt and suit jacket that highlighted his broad shoulders and dark jeans. He uncrossed his arms as you approached, a calm smile softening his handsome face.

“You look amazing,” he said, his voice warm and sincere.

“Don’t start,” you replied with a grin, though the way his gaze lingered on you made you feel like you were glowing.

He opened the doors for you and led you into the dining area, an enchanting space housed under a grand dome. The walls were lined with lush, cascading plants, and soft golden lights intertwined with the greenery, creating an ethereal glow.

Overhead, the glass dome revealed the night sky in all its splendor, the stars twinkling like scattered diamonds. The combination of natural beauty and elegance made the atmosphere feel both romantic and magical.

The tables were small and intimate, each adorned with a single candle. As you sat down, you couldn’t help but notice how at ease Austin seemed, his calm demeanor contrasting with your nervous energy.

Over a a few glasses of wine, you found yourself loosening up, your playful side surfacing as you bantered with him.

“So,” he asked, leaning forward slightly, “What was the funniest thing Jack or Lily did this week?”

You grinned, swirling your wine. “Well, Jack decided to wear his Spider-Man pajamas to school the other day and told his teacher he was ready to save the world.”

Austin chuckled, his smile warm and genuine. “He’s in character—I like that,” he said, leaning back slightly. “Kid’s got commitment.”

You could barely contain your laugh. “Well then, you’ll really enjoy this—Lily has convinced herself she’s a cat. Full meowing and everything.”

You both laughed, the sound deep and genuine, filling the cozy space between you. Austin shook his head, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “The kids are their own little variety show. I can see why you’re smiling all the time,” he said, his tone warm and sincere.

“You have no idea,” you replied, your guard slipping as the conversation flowed. “They’re my world.”

“I can see that,” he said, his tone softening. “You’re an incredible mom.”

The compliment caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say. You looked down, taking a sip of your wine to compose yourself. “Thanks,” you said finally, your voice quieter.

By the time the plates were cleared, the conversation had shifted to everything from your childhood memories to guilty pleasure movies. His calm, patient presence coaxed you out of your shell, and before long, you were laughing so hard you nearly spilled your drink.

After dinner as you stepped outside into the crisp evening air, you turned to him, your cheeks slightly flushed from the wine and laughter. “Okay, I’ll admit it,” you said with a teasing smile. “I was really impressed this evening Austin.”

“I’ll take that as high praise,” he smiled, his eyes sparkling as he stepped closer. “But I think I can do better.”

Before you could respond, he leaned in, his lips kissing yours softly at first, as if waiting for permission.

You froze for a split second, caught off guard that it was even happening, but then you melted into the kiss, clutching his firm arms to steady yourself. His scent was warm and woodsy, with hints of vanilla and bourbon, and the way he held you made your heart race.

When he pulled back, you blinked up at him, trying to gather your thoughts. “I…uh… that was so.. h—unexpected,” you said, your tone uncertain as your voice trembled slightly.

“Was it bad?” he asked with a playful smirk.

“No!” you blurted out too quickly. “No, it wasn’t bad at all, Austin… it was so good—it was really good . I just—”

Before you could finish, he leaned in and kissed you again, this time with even more intensity.

His hand cupped your cheek, steady and warm, as his lips moved against yours. Your entire body relaxed as the kiss deepened, your mouth sliding over his in a way that made your thoughts scatter.

He tasted so good—like wine and something unmistakably him. He felt so good, so irresistible, that it made you frantic, your hands gripping his jacket as you leaned closer, consumed by the fire of his intensity.

His other hand found your waist, anchoring you as your kisses grew more heated, your mouths moving together like you couldn’t get enough of each other. The world around you blurred, reduced to the warmth of his touch and the way he made you feel, and for the first time in a long time you were unmistakably aroused

With a soft gasp, you pulled back, your chest rising and falling, breathless, your mind spinning. “I—I should go,” you said quickly, avoiding his eyes as you tried to compose yourself.

Austin tilted his head slightly, concern flickering across his face. “Are you alright?” he asked, as his thumb stroked your cheek gently.

His voice was calm and patient, his tone making it impossible to ignore the genuine care in his words.

“Yes,” you nodded, forcing a smile. “I’m fine. Really. Just—it’s late.”

“Alright,” he said with a soft smile and without hesitation, he walked with you toward the valet stand.

As you waited for your cars, he stayed close, his fingers brushed against your shoulder lightly at first then, his hand slid lower, resting gently on your waist, his thumb grazing your hip absentmindedly. The casual intimacy of it made your stomach flip, as the entire time, all you could think about was how badly you wanted to climb him like a tree.

Your car arrived first, and as the valet opened the door, you turned to him. Unable to resist, you leaned in for a quick hug, your arms wrapping around his firm chest. The scent of him—warm, woodsy, and undeniably intoxicating—filled your senses, and for a brief moment, you let yourself get lost in it, your mind overtaken by the smell of him.

When you pulled back, his eyes searched yours, affectionate and soft, like he was trying to understand what you were thinking.

“Good night,” you said, your voice soft and reluctant, lingering in the air between you.

“Good night,” he replied, his tone low and smooth, laced with a quiet intensity that made your stomach flutter. His eyes lingered on yours, and the way his lips curved into a subtle, knowing smile felt almost seductive, as though he was daring you to stay just a moment longer.

You bit your lip as you stepped back, resisting the overwhelming urge to close the distance between you and kiss him again.

Instead, you turned quickly and climbed into your car, your hands gripping the wheel tightly. As you drove away, you glanced back at him in your rearview mirror, his tall figure still standing there, watching you leave. His scent still clung to you, warm and intoxicating, and your mind raced with thoughts you weren’t quite ready to face.

Over the next few weeks, Austin was extremely busy with filming, but he still found little ways to remain a part of your life.

You were busy with work and wrangling your little ones, but the two of you FaceTimed when you could, and every time, he made a point to say hi to Jack and Lily. They adored him, and his genuine warmth toward them made it harder for you to keep your guard up.

One evening, he asked for your address and casually suggested a playdate. “If it’s okay, I’d love to take you and the kids somewhere fun,” he said, his voice calm but hopeful. You hesitated for only a moment before agreeing. His excitement was contagious.

On Saturday, Austin picked the three of you up and drove to a sprawling outdoor park with a petting zoo, a huge playground, and plenty of open space. The day was crisp and sunny, and the laughter of children filled the air. Jack and Lily were wide eyed with excitement as they took in the colorful slides, swings, and the fenced area with goats and bunnies.

Austin was a natural. He jumped right into the action, helping Jack climb the rock wall on the playground and pushing Lily on the swings, her giggles echoing through the park. “Higher, Austin!” she squealed, and he laughed, obliging her with a playful grin.

When they wandered over to the petting zoo, Austin crouched down with Lily, gently showing her how to hold out her hand for a baby bunny to nibble on. “See? Just like this,” he said, his tone patient and encouraging. Jack ran up, curious, and Austin seamlessly shifted his attention, answering Jack’s million questions about the animals with the same enthusiasm.

The whole time, he was equally attentive to you. He carried Lily when she got tired, helped Jack when he scraped his knee, and made sure you had a moment to breathe.

“You okay?” he asked softly when the kids were momentarily distracted, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder, his blue eyes full of quiet concern.

You nodded, a warm smile spreading across your face. “I’m fine,” you said, your voice soft but genuine. “This… this is wonderful.”

His lips curved into a gentle smile before he leaned in, brushing an encouraging, kiss against your lips. The tenderness of it, the way he made you feel so seen and cared for, made your heart flutter and left you completely swooning. You barely managed to catch your breath before he pulled back, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he turned back to check on the kids.

By the end of the day, the kids were tired but beaming, their hands sticky from ice cream cones Austin had insisted on treating them to. Jack climbed onto his back without hesitation, declaring him “the coolest grown-up ever,” while Lily clung to his hand, refusing to let go.

On the drive home, the kids fell asleep in the backseat, and you turned to him, overwhelmed by how effortlessly he had fit into your little world. “You’re really good with them,” you said softly, watching as his lips curved into a small smile.

“They’re great kids,” he replied, glancing at you for a moment before focusing back on the road. “And you’re an amazing mom. It’s easy to see why they’re so special.”

You didn’t know how to respond, so you just smiled, the warmth of his words lingering in your chest. By the time he dropped you off, you realized something you hadn’t let yourself admit before—Austin wasn’t just charming or fun. He was something more, something steady, someone you could rely on.

The next week, Emily called, insisting on coming over for wine in the evening . When she arrived, she was practically glowing, a bottle of your favorite wine in one hand and gifts in the other.

“Okay, don’t kill me, but I’m just the delivery person here,” she said with a grin as she stepped inside. She placed the wine on the counter and held up the items in her arms. “This,” she said, presenting the remote-controlled car, “is for Jack. Austin heard he lost the remote to his old one and said no kid should be without a car they can crash into furniture.”

You rolled your eyes, but your lips twitched into a reluctant smile. “Of course he did.”

“And this,” she continued, holding up a handmade bunny quilt, “is for Lily. Austin found it at some little shop and said it reminded him of her. Thought it would be perfect for her to snuggle with.”

Your chest tightened despite yourself, but you kept your expression neutral. “That’s… thoughtful.”

“Oh, and the wine?” Emily added, gesturing to the bottle on the counter. “That’s from him, too. He said, and I quote, ‘Moms deserve their favorites, too.’”

You sighed softly, shaking your head, but couldn’t entirely stop the smile spreading across your lips.

Every heartfelt gesture from Austin chipped away at your defenses, despite your best efforts to resist.

Later that night, Jack was already asleep when you peeked into his room. He was clutching the new remote-controlled car to his chest, his little face peaceful in the dim glow of his nightlight. You smiled softly, adjusting the blanket over him before stepping out.

In Lily’s room, Emily was already there, kneeling beside the bed as she tucked the bunny quilt from Austin snugly around her.

Lily smiled sleepily, murmuring something incoherent about ‘ her bunny blanky” before drifting off. You leaned against the doorway for a moment, watching Emily smooth the blanket gently over Lily’s tiny form, a look of affection on her face.

You stepped into the room quietly, standing beside Emily as the two of you looked down at Lily, her breathing soft and even.

“She’s adorable,” Emily whispered, her voice low so as not to wake her. “Just like Jack.”

You nodded, a faint smile on your lips.

Emily glanced at you, her expression shifting to something more serious. “Austin is entirely smitten with you, you know,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “And honestly? You should give him a chance. He’s a good guy.”

You sighed, your gaze fixed on Lily’s peaceful face. “Good guys don’t exist,” you muttered, almost to yourself.

“They do,” Emily said, her tone firm but gentle. “And he’s one of them.”

The two of you stood there for a moment longer, the quiet of the room settling around your thoughts, and despite your best efforts, they drifted to Austin.

His thoughtful gestures, his warm smile, the way he spoke to Jack and Lily like they were the most important people in the world—it all tugged at something deep inside you.

Over the next month, each date with Austin chipped away at your walls. Whether it was sharing stories over dinner, walking through the park hand-in-hand, or watching a movie with Jack and Lily nestled between you, he made every moment feel meaningful.

The kisses grew deeper, more frequent, and harder to pull away from, leaving you breathless each time. He never rushed you, but his quiet patience and unwavering care made it impossible not to feel safe with him. Slowly, you began to trust him, to let him into the spaces you’d kept so carefully guarded.

One evening, as the kids were decorating a small Christmas tree in the living room, Austin sat beside you on the couch, the glow of the twinkling lights casting a soft warmth over his face.

Christmas had always been a stressful time for you. Your ex had made it that way, his constant criticism, belittling remarks, and refusal to help turning what should have been a joyous season into a source of dread. The kids had felt it too, the tension in the air overshadowing their excitement.

It had left you doing everything you could to distract and shield Jack and Lily from his moods. Even now, the memories of those Christmases lingered, making it hard to feel the holiday spirit.

“Christmas is a few weeks away,” Austin chimed in, his voice calm but with a hint of nervousness. “And I know this time of year isn’t always easy for you…” He said his hand rested gently on your knee, his thumb brushing against it. “But…I was thinking—what if you and the kids spent the holidays with me? At my villa in the mountains.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Your villa?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

He smiled, leaning slightly closer. “Yeah. It’s quiet, peaceful. There’s a big fireplace, snow-covered hills, and even a spot for sledding. Jack and Lily would love it. And… I’d really like to spend Christmas with all of you.”

You hesitated, glancing toward the kids, who were now deciding over the placement of an ornament. The idea was tempting, but memories of past holidays made you pause. “Austin, I don’t know…”

His fingers tightened slightly on your knee, his gaze steady. “You deserve a Christmas that feels good. And so do the kids. Let me give that to you.”

The sincerity in his voice made you take a deep breath. You looked at him, his hopeful expression, and couldn’t help but give in. “Okay,” you said softly, nodding. “We’ll spend Christmas with you.”

His grin was immediate, lighting up his entire face. “You won’t regret it,” he promised, leaning in to press a tender kiss to your lips.

The drive to the mountains from the airport was an exciting drive. Jack could barely stay still, practically bouncing in his seat as Austin navigated the winding snowy roads. Lily, strapped in her car seat, clapped her tiny hands together every so often, babbling happily about “ big trees” as the snow-covered forest grew thicker with every mile.

When the cabin finally came into view, your breath caught. It was stunning—a sleek, modern design with large glass windows that reflected the surrounding snow-covered landscape. Nestled in a lake bed, the cabin was surrounded by towering evergreens dusted with fresh snow. The lake itself was frozen, shimmering like glass in the crisp winter light.

“Wow,” Jack breathed, pressing his face to the window. “Mom, look at all the snow!”

“It’s beautiful,” you confessed, your voice soft with awe as you stared at the serene scene in front of you.

Austin pulled into the driveway, his grin wide and full of joy as he glanced at you. “Wait until you see the inside,” he said, stepping out of the car and immediately opening the door for you and the kids. “C’mon, Jack. Let’s get your sister.”

Jack scrambled out, immediately grabbing handfuls of snow. “Ahhh It’s so cold!” he exclaimed, laughing as he threw it into the air.

Austin chuckled, unbuckling Lily and lifting her into his arms. She let out a delighted squeal, pointing at the snow with her tiny fingers. “Snow snow snow!” she babbled, her cheeks pink from the cold.

“It’s cold, sweetheart,” Austin said softly, pulling her scarf higher as he carried her toward the cabin. “Let’s get you inside where it’s warm.”

The cabin’s interior was just as breathtaking as the exterior. The open floor plan had a large stone fireplace in the living area, with cozy furniture arranged around it. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a panoramic view of the snowy landscape, and a fully decorated Christmas tree stood in the corner, twinkling with lights.

“This is…” You trailed off, taking it all in. “Austin, this is amazing.”

He adjusted Lily on his hip and smiled. “I wanted it to feel special—for all of you.”

Jack immediately began exploring, his excitement infectious as he darted from room to room. “Mom! There’s a bunk bed! And a big kitchen!” he called out, his voice echoing through the space.

Austin laughed as he watched Jack with a proud expression. “I think he approves.”

You smiled, shaking your head. “I think we all do.”

The next few days were filled with moments that felt like magic.

Jack and Lily experienced snow fall for the first time, their laughter filling the air as Austin pulled them on sleds down gentle hills near the cabin.

Jack insisted on building the biggest snowman ever, and Austin happily obliged, rolling snow into giant mounds while Lily giggled, toddling after him and attempting to help with her tiny mittens.

Later, you all sat inside by the fire, steaming mugs of hot cocoa in hand. Lily held her sippy cup with both hands, sipping carefully, while Jack sat cross-legged on the floor, playing with his toys.

The warmth of the fire wrapped around you, and for the first time in years, you felt the tension of the holidays melt away.

Austin sat beside you, his eyes soft as he watched Jack and Lily. “They’re amazing, you know,” he said, his voice low and full of emotion.

“They are,” you agreed, glancing at him. You couldn’t help but look at him with affection, your heart swelling at how effortlessly he fit into your little family. Without thinking, you brought your legs over his lap. He smiled at the gesture, his hand resting on your knee, rubbing gentle circles with his thumb,

“You look so happy,” he said, his tone light but sincere. “It looks beautiful on you.”

You felt your cheeks warm and looked away, watching the kids. “I am happy,” you admitted softly. “This… this is all so perfect.”

He pulled you closer, his thumb brushing over your waist. “You deserve perfect, you know that? And so do they.”

You turned to him, your heart catching in your chest. “Austin…”

Before you could finish, Jack looked up from his toys. “Can we go sledding again tomorrow?” he asked, his face full of hope.

Austin grinned, his smile warm and genuine. “Now that you know how we can even have a race tomorrow.” He said excitedly.

Jack whooped with happiness, and even Lily let out a tiny squeal of approval, clapping her hands together with delight.

Later that night, as the snow fell lightly outside, you watched Austin tuck the kids into bed with a tenderness that melted your heart.

He listened intently to Jack’s excited chatter about sled racing and gently adjusted Lily’s bunny quilt as she murmured sleepily. The way he handled everything with such care stirred emotions within you that you had never fully allowed yourself to feel for him.

Quietly, you slipped away, heading to your room. After a warm, soothing bath, you wrapped yourself in a robe and walked to the dresser. Nerves overtaking you as you opened the drawer, your eyes falling on the lingerie you’d packed but had been dreading to wear.

It was simple yet elegant—a soft, black lace slip that hugged your curves just enough to make you question if you could really go through with it. You stood there for a moment, hesitating, your heart pounding in your chest as you wrestled with both excitement and uncertainty.

After the kids were sound asleep, you gathered your courage and walked down the hall in your lingerie slip toward Austin’s bedroom.

Your heart pounded as you hesitated at the doorway, nerves fluttering wildly in your stomach.

You raised your hand and gently knocked, the sound somehow louder in the quiet house. For a brief moment, you thought about retreating, but before you could, his calm, deep voice called out.

“You don’t have to knock,” he said softly, his tone warm and inviting.

Stepping inside, the room was bathed in the soft glow of the crackling fireplace, the flickering light casting shadows across the walls.

Austin stood near the foot of the bed, dressed in gray sweats and a simple white t-shirt. His sandy blonde hair was slightly tousled, and his blue eyes, illuminated by the firelight, were filled with tenderness as they locked on yours.

“I don’t know how to do this,” you admitted quietly, taking a hesitant step forward.

His expression softened, and he crossed the room to you, taking your hands gently in his. His palms were warm and grounding, his thumbs brushing lightly over your knuckles. “Just cuddle with me ,” he said, his voice steady and reassuring.

You smiled as he led you to the bed and sat down with you. He laid back, propping himself up on one elbow, and gently pulled you down beside him. The closeness of his presence calmed you, and as you rested your head against his firm chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat grounded you in the moment as you both looked at the fire place.

“I care about you so much,” he said after a long silence, his fingers lightly tracing circles on your arm. “You, Jack, Lily—you’re everything to me now.”

You looked up at him, your heart swelling as his words washed over you. “Austin…” you whispered, unable to find the right words, but the way you gazed at him said everything.

He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment before his hand slid to your jaw, his touch gentle but firm, as he tilted your chin up.

Then he kissed your lips—heartfelt and tender—as he brushed them softly against yours, his movements were unhurried and full of emotion.

You whimpered into his kiss, eager and unable to hold back. Your hands trailed up his strong neck, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer, kissing him deeper, needing more.

His other hand rested on your stomach, his fingers brushing the lace of your slip. Slowly, he let his hand wander lower, testing your reaction. You didn’t stop him—in fact, you arched slightly, giving him permission, and his hand slipped into your panties just as his tongue slipped into your mouth, the dual sensations drawing a soft moan from your lips.

He glided his fingers up and down your wetness, each movement deliberate and teasing. Your body responded eagerly, and when he pushed two fingers inside, a gasp escaped you. You kissed him deeper, your lips parting for him as his tongue matched the rhythm of his hand, the intimacy leaving you trembling and craving more.

Your breaths grew ragged as his long, deft fingers curled deep inside you in a way that made you see stars. You cupped his jaw, pulling him closer, devouring his mouth hungrily as your hips moved against his hand. His other hand tugged the strap of your slip down, exposing your breast, and he wasted no time lowering his lips to it.

His mouth was warm and wet as he sucked your nipple, his tongue flicking the sensitive peak with precision. He alternated between soft teasing pulls and harder deeper sucks that made you cry out softly, your hands gripping his shoulders.

You couldn’t hold back any longer, your moans turning into soft, broken cries of pleasure as his fingers moved faster, as his mouth sucked your nipples. Your vision blurred, and every nerve in your body seemed to ignite as waves of pleasure rippled through you. “Oh, Austin—Austin!” you gasped, your hips pushing up involuntarily as you orgasmed the release sending tingles through every inch of your body.

Your breaths came in desperate, shuddering gasps of pleasure as he kept his fingers inside you, kissing his way down your trembling body, his lips warm and gentle as they pressed along your thighs.

He pulled your panties down slowly, his gaze lingering on you with a mix of desire and reverence as his mouth lowered on to your clit. His tongue flicked and circled with expert precision as his fingers continued thrusting inside you. You babbled incoherently, unable to form words as your body writhed beneath him, the intensity of his touch consuming you entirely.

Just when you thought you couldn’t take any more, he slipped his fingers out, replacing them with his mouth, his tongue working you over with devastating skill.

His movements pushed you over the edge as another powerful orgasm tore through you, your cries of his name echoing in the room as your body shuddered beneath him.

When he finally pulled back, you were breathless, your body limp and your core throbbing.

He climbed back up, his eyes filled with affection and lust as he stripped off his shirt, revealing his sculpted chest and strong, defined abs. You couldn’t stop the soft “yes, yes,” that slipped from your lips as you tugged off your lingerie and slid out of your panties in return. Then you spread your legs open for him, lying fully exposed on his bed.

He smiled, his voice low and full of promise. “I’m going to take my time with you,” he said, his blue eyes locked on yours as he pushed down his sweats.

You nodded, your voice trembling with need . “Take whatever you want Austin.” You breathed.

His smile widened as he leaned down, kissing you. “That’s what I love about you,” he whispered against your lips. “You give yourself so completely—so openly—when you finally let go for me. It makes me want to protect that trust with everything I have.”

His words made you gasp against his lips. You couldn’t respond at first, your breath caught in your throat as his hand cupped your face, his thumb brushing your cheek. “Give me all of you,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with longing. “Every part of you. I’ll take care of it—I’ll take care of you. I promise.”

“Yes,” you breathed, your voice trembling with emotion. “Yes… please, yes.” Your hands reached up, threading into his hair, pulling him closer as if you couldn’t bear to let him go. “Take all of me,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you surrendered completely.

He aligned his cock to your slick wet entrance and pushed in slowly, the stretch making your eyes flutter shut as you took all of him inch by inch.

He groaned low in his throat, the sound vibrating through his chest as he stilled letting you adjust to his size. His hands cupped your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples, eliciting soft gasps from you as he slowly began to thrust.

Every coherent thought left your mind, replaced by the overwhelming sensation of him—his size, his warmth, the way he filled you so completely. His mouth claimed yours, devouring it hungrily, and your moans were muffled against his lips, soft and pleading as you melted beneath him.

When you became breathless, he pulled back, his lips brushing over your jaw before lowering to your chest. He hunched over you, lowering his mouth to your breasts, sucking each nipple softly at first, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peaks licking in slow, strokes. Then, as his thrusts grew deeper, his mouth became more insistent, lapping and sucking at your breasts as though he couldn’t get enough of you.

The rhythmic sounds of your wetness filled the room, mixing with the slap of his narrow hips between your legs. He groaned loudly, his voice thick with arousal. “Fuck— you feel —so good —I can hardly think” he whispered against your skin, his words broken by heavy breaths.

He thrust harder, his cock twitching inside you with every movement, his satisfaction undeniable. His breaths came in ragged gasps as he pressed deeper, each thrust more forceful, his voice low and guttural. “I can’t… I can’t get enough of you,” he praised, his tone filled with raw need. His hands gripped your hips firmly, pulling you closer the pressure of his cock filling you even more, making you feel completely claimed, entirely his.

Your thighs instinctively squeezed against his hips, and he groaned again, louder this time, his voice unrestrained. “Oh fuck,” he gasped, his pace quickening.

Pulling back slightly, he rested on his elbows, his blue eyes blazing with intensity as he lifted to look between your bodies.

You looked down, your breath catching at the sight of his thick cock disappearing into you, stretching and filling you completely, creating a visible bulge in your abdomen with each deliberate thrust.

The sight alone sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through you, making your thighs tremble as your walls clenched tightly around him. His breaths came harder, his groans breaking as he thrust faster.

“You make me feel so complete,” he whispered, his voice rough and trembling with desire, his gaze locked on yours as if you were the only thing in the world. “I love us… I love this… so much.” His words were filled with reverence, laced with the raw need that fueled every thrust.

His cock twitched inside you again, and you moaned in response, your body arching to meet his as he pressed forward, his lips finding yours once more, capturing every sound of pleasure that escaped you.

You were, unable to speak as your moans overtook you, your body moving in perfect rhythm with his.

The sensation built higher and higher until you both reached your peak, and your orgasm shattered through you leaving you gasping as your vision blurred. You cried out his name, your body tightening and trembling as the intensity consumed you completely.

Feeling your walls tighten around him, he groaned deeply, his hips faltering as his own climax followed. His come spilled into you as he called out your name, his voice rough and trembling with pleasure. The sensation made you cling to him, your arms wrapping tightly around his shoulders as you pulled him down for a deep, heated kiss.

Your tongues tangled desperately, the kiss full of shared intimacy and raw emotion, as your bodies moved together, covered in a light sheen of sweat.

His kisses were slow and heated as his hands traced a path that left you breathless, making you feel cherished in a way you’d never experienced before. As you came down, the sensation was all-consuming, leaving you trembling in his arms.

He held you close, his lips brushing your temple. “You’ve got me,” he whispered, his voice low and steady. “All of me.”

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest as his words washed over you. “I want all of you,” you whispered back, your voice soft but filled with conviction. “Every piece.”

The weight of your own words settled between you, and for the first time in a long time, you felt something crack open inside you—love. This wasn’t just passion or a fleeting connection; it was something deeper… it was real. His arms around you felt like home, his steady heartbeat against yours like a rhythm you’d been searching for your entire life.

His thumbs caressed your hips as he slowly, carefully pulled out but the sensation left a soft ache, a reminder of how completely he had filled you.

He rested his head against your neck, his breath warm and uneven against your skin, and you instinctively brought your fingers to his hair, holding him close. His chest pressed against yours, grounding you in the intimacy of the moment.

After a few quiet breaths, his voice broke the silence, soft and a little hesitant. “I know you don’t want more kids right now,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your collarbone. “But… do you think you’d ever want more one day?”

You paused, your fingers lightly threading through his hair as you considered his question. A gentle smile tugged at your lips as you answered, “If I were married… then yes, maybe.”

He let out a quiet, thoughtful hum, and instead of responding right away, he nuzzled back into your neck, his lips pressing softly against your skin. “Married,” he murmured, his voice filled with a mixture of affection and quiet contemplation.

He didn’t say anything more, just held you close, his breath warm against your neck, letting the moment speak for itself.

As you closed your eyes a small, contented smile crossed your lips. Austin was the was the start of something real and something you were finally ready to believe in.

Two years later, you stand hand-in-hand with Austin in the cabin, the same one where everything truly began. Lily dances around your feet, giggling as Jack chases her with a toy airplane. Your gaze drifts to your wedding ring, the diamond catching the soft glow of the setting sun filtering through the large windows.

Austin’s hand slides lovingly over your growing belly, his touch gentle but protective, as if cradling the life you are creating together. His blue eyes soften as he looks at you, a small smile playing on his lips.

As the sun dips lower, casting golden hues across the frozen lake, he leans in, his forehead resting against yours for a moment before his lips brush yours in a tender kiss. “Together forever,” he murmurs, his voice low and full of promise.

And forever, with him, feels exactly right

🎄 THE END 💕

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[justagalwhowrites]

Joyeux Noël - A Lavender AU Christmas Story

Joel and your daughters plan something special for you for the holidays. A Christmas one shot set in the Lavender AU Universe.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut. No outbreak AU. Fluff fluff fluff. Christmas fluff. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ only

Length: 3.6k

A/N: JOEL AND DOC ARE BACK FOR THE HOLIDAYS BECAUSE I MISSED THEM (and hopefully some of you did, too.) This can be read as a stand alone fic with the understanding that Joel and reader are a married couple with a shared biological daughter as well as Ellie and Sarah. I hope you enjoy this tooth rotting-ly sweet fic!

AO3 | Lavender Masterlist | Lavender AU Masterlist | Full Masterlist

December 24, 2024 

“You’re sure you’ve got everything?” Sarah asked, her son, Carson, squealing in the background. 

“Pretty sure,” Joel said, frowning a little. 

“Put me on FaceTime,” she said. “Show me.” 

Joel sighed and fussed with his phone until it became a video call, Sarah on the other end with a smudge of flour on her nose. 

“Busy over there, baby girl?” He teased. 

“Your grandson got me in the face when we were making sugar cookies,” she said. “I haven’t had the chance to get cleaned up yet, the kitchen is a disaster but that’s beside the point, show me Mom’s suitcase.” 

Joel fussed with the phone again - having to search for the little button that let him do it, not a fan of figuring out technology without the help of any of his girls - and got the camera to flip around. 

“So I put in some of the sweaters she wears a lot,” he said, showing Sarah the stacks. “Some of the pants she likes, too. Got this one dress she looks real good in, real good…” 

“Ew,” Sarah said. 

“Shut it, kid,” he said. She laughed. “Got the shoes she says are comfortable, some that are pretty, too…” 

“Do you have a bag for her?” She asked. 

“What do you think you’re lookin’ at?” 

“Not that kind of bag,” she rolled her eyes. “I mean a purse.”

“Wouldn’t she just bring the one she uses all the time?” He asked. 

“Dad, you’re going to be walking around Paris,” Sarah said. “Spending hours in museums and in stores and lounging at chic cafes, she’s not going to want to carry that giant thing around. In her closet, in one of the dust bags at the top is a smaller bag that Ellie, Evie and I went in on for Mother's Day, grab that one. It’s cross body so she can just wear it, she likes that when she’s walking around a lot. Also, do you have her hair stuff?” 

“Hair stuff?” Joel frowned. “Don’t they have that in the room?” 

She sighed.

“See, this is why I make you show me,” Sarah said. “Yes, there’s shampoo and stuff but she uses serums and oils and things, she needs those. Bathroom next.” 

Joel obeyed his oldest daughter’s instructions, thankful that the two of you were so close that she’d know these kinds of things. He got what she told him from the bathroom and packed it. 

“Alright,” she said. “I think you’re all good! Just let her get a book or five at the airport and you’ll be golden, old man.” 

“Thanks, kiddo,” he smiled a little. “You still good to take your sister for a while?” 

“Of course,” she smiled back. “I love Ellie and Evie can stay as long as she wants until she wants to go back to school. Plus Brandon could use someone to give him a run for his money on this new video game, he’s getting over confident.” 

“Thank you for keeping an eye on Ellie,” Joel said. “We’d like to get all you girls on a trip like this with us sometime but for the first one…” 

“It should just be the two of you,” Sarah finished for him with a smile. “She’s going to love it, Dad.” 

He sure hoped so. 

Joel had been planning this for a while. Decades, really. 

Back when the two of you were young and flat broke, a trip to Paris had been a pipe dream. You talked about it that way, the same way Ellie talked about going to the moon now, something that you dreamed about but didn’t expect to ever have. 

Then Evie came along. Then you were in med school and then you were an intern and resident and attending and Sarah got married and Ellie joined the family and life had just gotten in the way, as it always seemed to. 

But it had been a beautiful life and you’d never even come close to complaining about not getting to visit France the way you’d dreamed. As you’d always done, you put everyone else’s needs and wants before your own, constantly looking for a way to make Joel or your daughters’ lives better before thinking of yourself. 

But the Paris trip was possible now. The two of you had made more money than Joel had ever dreamed of making, Sarah and Evie were off on their own and Ellie was in a good enough place that she could spend a few weeks with her sister. Things were even calm at work for both of you - Tommy could run the business for a few weeks and Joel had coordinated with your boss to get you time off. It was the perfect time to finally give you something you’d been dreaming of as long as Joel had known you. 

Joel didn’t want to put more work on your plate, though, so he worked with Sarah, Evie and Ellie to plan everything. Sarah traveled a lot - she’d made it to Europe long before Joel ever had - and knew how to find a good hotel. Ellie told Joel about the different museums to visit, her passion for art coming in handy as he was planning. Evie - who had even taken after your knack for language - helped Joel learn a few phrases in French (though he was going to be pretty dependent on you to get around.) But that was fine. As long as you were happy, he didn’t care if everyone around him was speaking gibberish. 

“Dad!” Ellie yelled from down the hall. “Mom just texted, she’s almost home!” 

“Shit,” Joel said, zipping the suitcase quickly. “Stall her for me, will ya?” 

“Can do!” She yelled back and he heard her pounding down the stairs to intercept you. 

Joel hauled the luggage downstairs the best he could, stashing the packed bags in a room just off the garage so he could wrestle them into the trunk later. He finished just as the garage door opened and Ellie went racing past him to catch you in the car, giving him a chance to slip into the living room unnoticed. You joined him just a minute after he got there, flopping on the couch next to him. 

“Tough day?” He asked, putting his arm up so you could snuggle into him. 

“Just long,” you sighed. “That early start the day before a holiday made this shift feel like 20 hours, not 12. But at least I have Christmas off to spend with you and the girls before I’m back in on Thursday.” 

Joel tried to keep from smiling at the fact that you didn’t know that, by this time on Thursday, you’d be across the world. 

“Want to watch a movie?” He asked. “Your pick.” 

“Sure,” you snuggled closer. “But let’s see what Ellie and Evie want to watch, I’ll be happy as long as I’m with you guys.” 

He kissed your forehead and called the girls down, the two of them settling on Elf followed by Die Hard and you not even putting in a vote for your favorite because you never tried to put yourself first in anything. That’s why Joel was doing all this, to make sure it happened at least now and then. He made you a plate of Chinese food and you fell asleep against him when you finished it, still wearing the Christmas-themed sweater and earrings you’d worn that day to the hospital. 

“Alright, girls,” Joel said quietly. “Upstairs, Santa can’t come ’til you’re in bed.” 

Evie and Ellie shared a look before looking back to Joel. 

“Goodnight, Dad,” Evie said, getting up and helping Ellie to her feet, too. “I hope Santa can get Mom upstairs OK…” 

He snorted and watched the girls go to their rooms before laying you gently on the couch. He went and got the presents out of your closet and stashed the suitcases in the back of the car. He stuffed the stockings - you sleeping peacefully the whole time - and set up the living room the same way he’d done since Sarah was little before gently rousing you from your long winter’s nap. 

“C’mon, baby,” he said softly, cupping your face, thumb brushing your cheekbone. “Bed time.” 

“But…” you sat up, groggy. “We gotta set up Christmas and…” 

“Already done,” he smiled. “Let’s go, sleepyhead.” 

You sighed contentedly as he looped an arm around your waist and guided you groggily to your room. 

“You’re the best husband in the world, you know that?” You said as you burrowed against his chest once you were both in bed. 

He smiled. 

“Doin’ my best, baby.” 

*** 

You definitely missed having little kids on Christmas morning but having older ones had its perks. 

You woke up before Joel, your unreasonably early day - and bed time - on Christmas Eve rousing you before the sun.

Your husband was still snoring gently and you just watched him for a moment, a peaceful look on his face in the red and green glow of the lights on the eaves outside. You smiled. There was something so damn beautiful about the man you’d married more than 20 years ago, just getting to look at him while he slept made you feel unreasonably lucky, like you were getting away with something you shouldn’t. 

You ran your fingers through his hair, slow and gentle, and he stirred, smiling every so slightly before delicately catching your wrist and bringing it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your pulse. 

“Merry Christmas,” you whispered. 

He smiled broader, his eyes still closed. 

“Merry Christmas.” 

“Want one of your presents now?” You asked and he opened one eye so fast it made you giggle. “I’ll take that as a yes.” 

You leaned in close and kissed him softly, almost chastely, before moving down his body and nudging him onto his back as you went. Your lips went over the firm expanse of his chest, the soft warmth of his stomach, down to the top of his pajama pants where his thick length was already hardening for you. 

You tugged the pants down enough that you could get at his cock. You licked the tip of him, tongue circling his head before you wrapped your lips around just the very end, sucking softly at his precome. 

“Goddamn baby,” he said, already breathless, his hand coming to the back of your head as you took the whole of him slowly, tantalizingly into your mouth. 

Once you swallowed him into your throat, you moaned and held him there, sucking and savoring him before starting to move over him. You pressed your tongue against the thick vein that ran along the underside of his cock, making his head run along the roof of your mouth as he started to move in shallow, gentle thrusts, working himself deeper, groaning as he did. 

“Can I have that soft little pussy, too?” He asked eventually, sounding desperate, his grip tightening on your head. “Because goddamn baby if I don’t need you right now.” 

You sucked him all the way to the tip before releasing him from your mouth. 

“You can have as much of me as you want,” you said, breathless yourself. “I’m all yours.” 

Before you had the chance to start sucking him again, he tugged you back up his body, laying you beside him before rolling to face you. He gripped your thigh, tugging your leg over his hip and tucking your panties to the side before petting at your leaking entrance. 

“Good,” he whispered. “Just the way I want you.” 

The tip of his cock replaced his fingers and he thrust just the head of himself inside of you, stretching you enough that you had to press your face into his chest to muffle your moan. 

“How do you always feel so goddamn good, baby?” He asked, tugging you closer as he pushed inside. He tucked your head below his chin, one arm below you and around you, his fingers spread wide between your shoulders, his other on the small of your back holding you in just the right place. You were completely enveloped by him as he filled you to the root, everything about your husband completely surrounding you. “Don’t deserve something as good as you.” 

You just groaned in protest, not really able to form words, too overwhelmed by the way Joel was completing you. 

Instead, you rocked your hips against him and he responded in kind, the two of you moving slowly, firmly against each other. Heat drew low inside you, concentrated on where Joel was shaping you to him and you grew tighter and tighter around him, your orgasm growing sure and steady. 

“You gonna come for me?” He whispered in your ear. You moaned and nodded against him. “Good, want you to come for me, let me feel it baby, milk me dry, c’mon.” 

You let out a strangled little sob as you obeyed, your channel fluttering and rippling around him. 

“There she is,” he breathed, keeping his pace inside you, the tip of his cock pressing into the soft place within you that made your back arch and toes curl as he ground himself deep. “That’s it, baby, keep coming, come on my cock. Fuck, you take it so well, come so pretty for me, just keep… keep…” 

He squeezed you tighter, thrust impossibly deeper and you felt him come apart inside you with a needy grunt, throbbing deep and hard as he filled you, drawing your orgasm out as he did. 

You went limp in his arms as your climax eased and his hold on you loosened just enough that he could kiss you, his lips gentle on yours as both of you came back down to earth. 

“Dunno that anything’ll top that present,” he teased lightly and you laughed. 

“One of the upsides to not having little kids running in here at six in the morning,” you smiled before kissing his chest and snuggling closer. His cock was softening inside you, the combination of his come and yours starting to drip from you. “Can we just stay like this for a while? I miss you when you’re not inside me.” 

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his fingers trailing over your spine. 

“Course baby,” he said softly. “Think we got a bit before the girls start moving.” 

You luxuriated in the slow start to the morning, drifting in and out of consciousness with Joel’s cock nestled inside you, your husband thrusting slowly and gently now and then so he stayed deep. The sun had just started to peek through the blinds when you heard a toilet flush down the hall and you kissed Joel one last time before slipping him from you, adjusting his pants and your panties before the girls were knocking on your door. 

You loved Christmas morning with your family, loved the sense of joy and closeness as you watched your daughters open presents while you sat on the couch, snuggled up to Joel with a cup of coffee in your hands. You’d never had a holiday quite like this one growing up, always just you and your grandmother making the best of it. You treasured that, too, but it was different now, when you were surrounded by the people you loved more than anything else who loved you in return. 

Ellie was super excited about a set of really nice markers you’d asked Andrew for help in researching, Evie shrieked with glee over concert tickets for her and her girlfriend and Joel kissed you so deep when he opened the fancy coffee maker you got him the aching place between your thighs throbbed again. 

After cinnamon rolls and bacon and coffee made with Joel’s new toy, the four of you headed to Sarah’s, laughing as Carson showed you everything Santa brought him and giving Joel a look when he gave his grandson candy behind his daughter’s back. 

“Well,” Joel said, downing the last of his beer as your entire family sat around Sarah’s table after dinner and dessert, you tucked contentedly against his side. “I’m afraid we gotta hit the road.” 

You frowned, twisting to look at him. 

“What?” You asked, looking down at your watch. It was barely five. “No we don’t, I don’t need to be in until tomorrow afternoon, we can hang out and…” 

“No, Mom, you do really need to go,” Sarah said, a serious look on her face. 

“Yeah,” Ellie nodded. “Don’t wanna be late.” 

“Late for what?” You said. 

Evie looked up from her phone. 

“I just checked and everything is on time,” she said. 

You laughed, looking around at your husband and daughters. 

“What are you talking about?” You asked. “What’s on time, everything is closed. Are we going to a movie?” 

“I mean, we can when we get there if that’s what you wanna do,” Joel shrugged. “But you’d have to translate for me the whole time.”

You frowned, looking around again, all your children looking like they were about to burst with excitement. 

“Can someone clue me in?” You laughed again. “Because I’m at a loss…” 

“Oh, right,” Evie said, going into her purse, pulling out an envelope and handing it over. “Guess you’ll need that.” 

Joel was trying to hide his grin but you knew him too well for that and you just raised your brows at him as you opened the envelope. He just shrugged a little, his smile getting harder and harder to conceal. 

“What are you all up to?” You teased as you opened the envelope, unfolding the papers that were inside. 

“Guess you’ll have to look,” Joel shrugged. 

You rolled your eyes good naturedly before looking at the pages in your hands. 

It took you a second to realize what you were holding: a flight itinerary. 

You frowned. 

“Joel?” You asked looking over at him. 

“Yeah, baby?” 

“Joel, this…” you looked back at the paper, your heart racing. “Joel, this is a plane ticket.” 

“Is it?” He asked, smile apparent in his voice. 

“Joel,” you looked at him again. “This is a plane ticket to Paris. And it leaves in four hours.” 

“Technically, I think it’s two plane tickets,” Joel said, sitting up to look over your shoulder. “First class, in case you wanted some room to sleep on your first overseas flight.” 

“But…” Your eyes ranged over the ticket before looking around, all your daughters grinning like the cats who ate the canaries. “I have work!” 

“Well, see, that’s where you’re wrong,” Joel smirked. “Talked with your boss back in October, you’re not due back to the hospital for a few weeks.” 

“I…” you looked down and back up again. “I need to pack!” 

“Wrong again, Mom,” Sarah smiled. “Dad took care of that. And I checked his work, you’re good.” 

“We need to plan…” 

“I gave him a list of all the coolest museums,” Ellie said proudly, cutting you off.  

“And I helped Dad be a little less totally useless in French,” Evie added. 

You looked around at all of them, tears stinging at your eyes. 

“You all planned this?” You asked, a lump in your throat. “For me?” 

“Been a long time coming, baby,” Joel smiled, his large hand cradling your elbow, thumb rubbing gentle circles over you. “You deserve it. Have for a while.” 

“He’s right, Mom,” Sarah smiled, too. “After taking care of all of us over the years, it’s about damn time.” 

“You’re the best mom in the world,” Ellie agreed. “Figured it was time that you see some of it.” 

“You always do everything for all of us,” Evie said. “We really should return the favor now and then.” 

You looked back at the tickets, covering your mouth with one hand, giving up on trying to keep from crying. 

“I…” you sniffed. “I don’t know what to say!” 

“How about we just say bon voyage,” Evie said. “Because you need to get on the road or you’re going to be late for your flight!” 

You let your children usher you and Joel to the car and you gave everyone hugs as Evie and Ellie got their bags from the trunk so they could stay with Sarah. You hugged them all goodbye, having to dry your tears every time you realized exactly what was happening: You were finally going to Paris, a place you’d always wanted to go, on a trip planned by the people you loved most. 

Joel drove the two of you to the airport, you practically glowing the entire way. Joel didn’t let you carry your own bags and you were still in disbelief as you settled into your seat on the plane, a glass of champagne in your hand as you waited to take off. 

“So,” Joel smiled, watching you. “You excited?” 

“I can’t believe it,” you said, laughing a little. “I can’t… You really shouldn’t have done all this, not for me!” 

“Oh baby,” Joel reached out and cupped your cheek. “You’ve done nothin’ but take care of everyone else as long as I’ve known you. Don’t think I can ever do enough to repay you for that but you gotta let me try, at least at Christmas.” 

You smiled and leaned over to kiss him. 

“I think I can handle that.” 

He smiled. 

“Merry Christmas, baby,” he said. “Or should I say… joyeux noël? That right?” 

You laughed, his accent comically bad but so charming you had to love it. 

“That’s right,” you said. “Joyeux noël.”

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles.

Along the Chimney with Care

Prompt Day 24: Stocking | Word Count: 550 | Rating: T | CW: None | Tags: Future Fic, Established Relationship, Learning New Skills, Teamwork Makes the Dream Work

"What are you doing?" Eddie asks, as he leans over Steve's shoulder as he sits at the dining room table. 

"Practicing," Steve answers, as he looks at the scrap of fabric in front of him at the sewing machine that he's dragged out of the deepest recesses of some closet.

"Practicing what?" Eddie asks, because it just looks like a bundle of tangled up threads.

Steve flips it over. 

It's a kind of badly done embroidered version of Eddie's name, but it makes him smile. It might not be anywhere near perfect, but he likes the effort Steve's clearly tried to make. Steve could have ordered them custom-made from somewhere else, or even gotten iron-on letters, but instead he's chosen to do it this way, for better or worse.

"What's this for?" Eddie asks, smiling.

"Stockings for Christmas. I mistakenly thought this looked easy. It is not easy," Steve says, and Eddie sits down.

"Let me help," Eddie offers, even if he has no idea what that will entail. But surely they can figure it out together. They've always been able to figure anything out, as long as they've done it together. Two heads are better than one, and all that shit.

Not to mention, Eddie can sew. In theory. By hand, for sure, and Wayne had an old machine Eddie used a few times while making vests and other shit. He's never made a stocking, but he's willing to try.

"It keeps tangling on the back," Steve laments, and Eddie slides the practice piece of fabric towards himself, so he can look at it more closely.

"Is there a manual?" Eddie asks, and Steve shakes his head. 

"Not that I've ever seen," Steve answers.

"Hmm," Eddie says. He understands the basics, maybe, but he's not sure he can do much by way of troubleshooting.

But he bets he knows who can.

"Joyce says to check the bobbin," Eddie says from the kitchen, holding onto the phone. 

"What's the bobbin?" Steve asks, standing up and looking at the top of the machine.

"What's the bobbin?" Eddie repeats.

Joyce laughs in his ear, "Oh, dear."

But she walks them through it. They take it out, rethread it through the machine, and then test it out.

It's better. It's definitely better.

"That fixed it!" Steve says, pumping his fist in the air, hollering, "Thanks, Joyce!"

"He says thanks," Eddie repeats to her over the line. 

She heard him. The whole block heard him.

Eddie sits on the couch and watches Steve hang the stockings along the chimney with care. They aren't perfect. Far from it. But they do have their names on them, and Steve made them. He also let Eddie sew patches on them, which makes them even more personal to each of them.

A joint effort. Eddie loves them in all their slightly wonky glory, and he hopes they use them for years to come. 

"Okay. They're Santa ready," Steve says, and Eddie grins. 

"I can't wait to see what Santa brings me," Eddie declares, rubbing his hands together in anticipation, and Steve just smiles like he has the biggest secret. 

"Coal, probably," Steve teases, and Eddie laughs, big and bright.

Steve's got something planned, something up his stocking, as it were, and Eddie can't wait to find out what.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun! 🧦

[nickeverdeen]

She Can Try | Grown up!Powder x fem!reader

Pairings: Powder x reader (one-sided crush), Vi x reader (dead lover)

Type of fic: Angst

Warnings: Death, high expectations for Powder from Powder, inability to fully move on, jealousy, dead lover, one-sided love

Summary: After Vi died you tried to move on, but no matter how much you tried she still lingered there in the back of your mind, while Powder has been quietly suffering for 10 years of silently loving you.

Idea creator: @imlovewithpixels

Idea: “If nobody makes a fanfic where Reader wa Vi's sweetheart in the alternative timeline and Powder has a oneside crush on her for like 10 years. I'm gonna be forced to do it!

Just hear me out! Reader never move on, always looking for girls or boys that kinda remind them to Vi, and Powder is too scared to make a move, or even recognze her feelings of longing and jealosy. She would never fill the shadow of Vi. But she can try. I'm a sucker for angst, PLEASE”

Premission to use idea: Yes

———————

It had been ten years since the explosion, ten years since Vi was gone.

Powder still remembered the day like it was yesterday—the roar of the part of building breaking, the smell of hextech, the sound of your voice calling Vi’s name through the chaos. The way you had held onto hope long after everyone else had accepted the truth.

Even now, she could see the shadow of that grief in your eyes. It wasn’t as raw as it had been back then, but it lingered, like a scar that refused to fade. You had moved on in some ways—laughing, working, living—but there was always that part of you searching for her in the faces of others.

Powder wasn’t sure when her one-sided crush on you had started. Maybe it had always been there, buried beneath her admiration for you and Vi’s relationship. But after Vi was gone, and you stayed, Powder’s feelings began to grow into something she didn’t understand at first—something bittersweet and impossible.

She could never be Vi.

You would never look at her the way you had looked at her sister.

But still, Powder stayed close. She told herself it was because you were the only connection she had left to Vi, but deep down, she knew it was more than that.

One afternoon sun cast a golden glow over Zaun’s rooftops as you sat in the small workshop you and Powder shared. You were tinkering with a broken device—one of Powder’s gadgets that had malfunctioned during a test run.

“Did you ever figure out why this thing blew up?” you asked, holding it up to inspect the internal wiring.

Powder, sitting cross-legged on the floor nearby, looked up from her sketchpad. “Uh, yeah. I forgot to account for the power surge when the gears shifted.”

You grinned, shaking your head. “Classic Powder.”

She flushed, rubbing the back of her neck. “Hey, at least it didn’t take out half the table this time.”

“Progress,” you teased, setting the gadget aside.

Powder watched as you leaned back in your chair, a faint smile playing on your lips. You always seemed lighter when you were here, surrounded by tools and half-finished projects. It was one of the few places where you could relax, where the weight of the past didn’t seem to press down as heavily.

She wanted to tell you how much she admired you—how much she cared—but the words always got stuck in her throat. Instead, she just stayed close, hoping you would notice her in your own time.

Later that evening, the two of you made your way to one of Zaun’s quieter streets, heading toward a small food stall that Powder loved. The air was cool, and the neon lights from nearby buildings reflected off the damp pavement.

As you walked, you started talking about Vi again.

“She always hated it when I called her soft,” you said, a wistful smile on your face. “But she was. She just hid it under all that bravado.”

Powder nodded, her chest tightening. She hated how much you talked about Vi, not because she didn’t love her sister, but because every word reminded her of what she could never be to you.

“You were good together,” she said quietly, her voice barely audible over the hum of the city.

You glanced at her, surprised by the light distance in her tone. “We were.”

Powder hesitated, then asked the question she had been avoiding for years. “Do you… do you ever think about moving on?”

You stopped walking, your expression softening. “I’ve tried,” you admitted. “But every time I look at someone, it’s like… I’m searching for her. And that’s not fair to them. Or me.”

Powder looked away, guilt twisting in her stomach. She thought of all the times she had tried to be what you needed—stronger, braver, more like Vi. But no matter what she did, it was never enough.

She would always be a shadow.

That night, as you worked on another project in the workshop, Powder sat across from you, her heart aching.

“Hey,” she said suddenly, her voice shaky.

You looked up, startled by the urgency in her tone. “What’s up?”

“I just… I want you to know that I’m here. For whatever you need. Always.”

You smiled, reaching out to squeeze her hand. “I know, Powder. And I’m grateful for you. More than you realize.”

Powder held onto your hand a moment longer than necessary, her heart pounding. She wanted to tell you everything—to let you know how much you meant to her—but she couldn’t. Not yet.

Instead, she gave you a small, bittersweet smile and let go.

She could never fill the shadow of Vi.

But she could try.

[marscardigan]

too good to me

joel miller x reader

not a lot, just forever universe

summary: you woke up sick and joel takes care of you and clem.

warnings: mentions of sickness and throwing up.

You woke up suddenly, eyelids tired. Your throat felt like it was burning, skin and everything. You jumped out of the bed and almost tripped to your way to the bathroom. You were lucky you even had the time to throw up inside the toilet. Hurried steps were heard behind you, and the light from your hall made contrast with Joel’s large body.

When he found you almost passed out on the bathroom floor, with drool on your mouth, he got closer and grabbed your chin tenderly, cleaning you up with some napkin. “Can you hear me, hon?”

“I think I’m sick” you babbled, without breaking his gaze. “I feel like shit”

"Let me carry you back to be-" Your boyfriend couldn’t finish the sentence, because you vomited again. Joel grabbed your hair so you could be more comfortable. Minutes went by, and your urge to throw up disappeared. As Joel promised, he carried your tired body back to your shared bed.

“Do you need somethin’ else?” He whispered into your ear. You got closer to his touch, resting your head in the crook of his neck. “Just you, that’s all”

He smiled at your answer, and after leaving you inside the sheets, he put a warm blanket on top of you. You protested, “Joel, you will be too warm”

“I don’t give two shits about it right now. I only care about you getting better” He responded, getting inside the bed and hugging your back. “You’re too good to me”

A couple of hours later, you woke up with Clementine’s little laughs.

“No, no, baby, come here” Joel was outside the door. “Mommy needs to sleep more”

You smiled, picturing your two-year-old trapped in Joel’s big arms. “You can come in” Your voice sounded weak and dry, but happy somehow. The door opened and hurried tiny footsteps came by your side, jumping on top of the bed. “Morning mommy” Joel came, sitting with your daughter by your side. “You two are going to get sick if you get any closer”

Joel grabbed Clem and put her in his shoulders, and her laughter filled the whole room. “I’m going to take Clem to school, and later I’ll prepare you some soup or something”

You groaned at the thought. “Sounds awesome. Thank you” You said goodbye to your toddler and kissed your partner’s cheek, despite your complaints about you being sick.

The next time you opened your eyes, your head felt less heavy. The smell of soup flooded your nostrils. Joel wasn’t on your sight, and the house was oddly quiet. You finished your soup and walked to the bathroom, just to see it neatly clean. Joel must have cleaned the mess you made last night, you thought.

When Joel came back, he found your sleepy figure sat on the isle of the kitchen. You had tried to complete the shopping list, but your head started to get dizzy again. He laughed, and lifted your body with ease and laid you down to bed again. You woke up just before he could close the door. You called him out softly, your throat dry. He cursed something about waking you up, and he knelt by your side. “Are you better?” He looked worried, almost pouting. It was a beautiful contrast with how he normally looked.

“The soup was amazing, you are amazing. Feel bad you have to do everything today, though”

“Well, don’t be. Maria was delighted to be with Clem for the day. And it wasn’t a big deal, either” You scoffed, “it’s gonna be a big ass deal if I get you sick” Joel shrugged as if it didn’t matter at all. “Ellie asked about you”

Joel swore your eyes brightened with the teen’s name. “What did she say?”

“She bombarded me with questions about how could she help. She actually made - or tried to make - the soup”

“Can’t wait to tell her that was some of the beat soup I’ve ever tried, then” Your boyfriend’s gaze deepened with love, but he hid it and attempted to look offended,“Maybe I did help her a bit”

“You big ol’ softie”

Clementine appeared in your sight, with a colorful drawing. "I draw this for ya" She gave it to you, hiding her face in Joel's chest, a habit she took from you. "So you be good"

You smiled, gasping at the drawing. "It is wonderful, sweets" She then whispered something on Joel's ear, making him laugh. "Clem asks if she can give you a tiny kiss on the cheek"

You frowned, worried about the possibility of passing the fever to your toddler. As if Joel heard your thoughts, he rapidly denied, "she will be fine, she just needs her mum"

"Then I'm happy to help on that" Clementine's sweet lips left a kiss on your hot skin, and as an exchange, you stole her another kiss on her forehead, your daughter laughing at the surprise.

The next morning you woke up tired, but all clear from fever. You extended your arm to Joel’s side, only to find it empty and cold. You looked at the clock: eleven am. With a confused frown, you stood up and searched for your boyfriend, only to find him in the bathroom, grabbing Clementine’s little ponytail. Your daughter was complaining about the mess she was making, but Joel looked as if he couldn't hear her. He looked pale and exhausted, almost as if he hasn’t slept at all. Your head started to think about all the times you kissed them yesterday, even after your warnings.

“Please don’t tell me you two are sick” You said with guilt swimming inside your chest.

Ellie was the one who answered before Joel could, her voice coming from her own bathroom: “we all are!”

You looked at Joel, crossing your arms right beside your chest and lifting your eyebrows. "Told ya"

[squeakadeeks]

merry christmas my gift to you is telling a terrible tale since I think enough time has passed (ie over a decade) that i can tell you this without exploding.

when i was like 12 and starting out with art, i was so excited to open commissions just like a ✨real artist✨ and it being deviantart in the 2010's, within about a month i got someone asking for furry inflation fetish art. being a kid and having no sex ed, let alone the insanely specific sex ed that would be needed for me to understand what that is, i didnt flag it as inappropriate. I thought it would just be a "cool anatomy exercise like ✨real✨ artists do!" i was so ready and i took it on for 200 llamabucks or w/e the onsite currency was at the time. i did it, i drew it, whatever. well sure enough after posting it i quickly learned what furry inflation art actually was and i was mortified. being in like.....7th grade i was still terrified of sex and i was worried about my parents finding out so i took the entire sketchbook and buried it under my mattress. I lived in fear for months afterwards and felt like i deserved to be shot for falling for it and making something sinful.

the proceeding events happen in a confusing haze because my mother is an utterly puzzling woman so some suspension of disbelief is required but believe me when i say. i wish this was apocryphal. I dont know how or why, but some how some way my mom not only finds the sketchbook under my mattress, goes through the entire thing, finds the one singular offending sketch, then in a concerning mystery i will invest not a single iota of effort to solve due to the implications, immediately clocked that it was sexual fetish art. the one saving grace of a spherical wolf being niche enough that people wouldnt understand the dark deed i had done was out the window. She rips the page out, goes downstairs and parades it to the rest of the family like: "oh my god! look what ____ drew! lets all look at this! lets all look at this right now and laugh at it!" even with just this, i'm full on bursting into heavy hiccuping tears. as a kid this was the ultimate nightmare. you did something bad, you did something really bad, and your primary authority figure not only found it, but is now making sure everyone else you care about also knows the horrible shameful thing you did. except. there was something i couldnt have fathomed at the time that was about to get much, much worse.

my grandfather was dying of parkinson's at the time. when my mother took the sketch and displayed it to everyone like an auctioneer with a high ticket item, i ran out of the room sobbing so i never saw what happened to the blue inflated wolf with punk bangs. Well we all went to visit grandpa. we're all sitting around grandpa who used to be a famous local artist and was a big inspiration to me as a kid. and my mom goes "hey. ____ also wants to be an artist. Do you want to see what they drew?" and you'll never fucking guess what she pulls out of her pocket. hes barely able to turn and look over only to see that goddamn motherfucking wolf again. unlike before where i was crying so hard i couldn't breathe i remember being dead silent and stone still in shock. i dont think i blinked for 5 minutes but when i got up i threw up in the bathroom lol. I cant remember how but this time i did actually get the sketch back and i tore it to pieces and buried it in the yard. it haunted me for YEARS

but anyway now i have a memory of my mother showing my dying grandfather furry inflation art that i accidentally made when i was in middle school because i wanted a rainbow llama badge on deviantart.

[fashionteahouse]

How would Seth take care of his sick imprint? Like for real had mono or the flu to something that she was super sick and had to go to Dr. Cullen….the wolves aren’t too happy but Seth just wants her better, so he actually tells everyone to shut up instead of taking the jokes. Thanks!

I sooo need an emoji code name. Is 🌸 available?

ooo nice idea ! yes the code name 🌸 is available 💜 hope you enjoy ;)

911 - seth x reader

Seth carried bowl that contained steam and hot soup. His eyebrows were knitted with worry. He approached with footsteps to his imprint.

You were in bed, body aching and feeling down right horrible.

He feels your head as soon as he set the bowl down. He let out a nervous sigh, “Your fever should’ve been went down.”

You try to say something but you went into a coughing fit.

He picks up the tea that was in a cup and begged you to drink it. You just lay back while shaking your head.

“I will puke it up.” you rasp out.

“Take slow sips, please?” he asks you.

You do so but you push the cup away after sipping two times. You couldn’t keep anything down.

Seth fetches a cool rag and placed it over your forehead.

“Does that feel better?” he asks you.

“A little bit.” you say.

Your eyes flutter closed, your body feeling heavy and sickly. You drift off into a heavy slumber.

As you slept, Seth dialed Sam’s number.

“Sam, whats Carlisle Cullen’s number?”

“What do you need his number for?” Sam asks in a stern tone. He didn’t need any trouble to be stirred.

Seth takes a glance at your sleeping figure, his wolf inside didn’t like to see their imprint being so sick and vulnerable.

“Y/N really needs to see a doctor. Her fever is way too high and it’s not going away. It’s scaring me.” Seth explains.

“Call 911 or just take her to the tribe clinic. I’m not giving you any of the Cullen’s numbers.” Sam says.

Seth sighed in defeat. He knew that the tribe clinic would be way overcrowded, you needed attention now.

He knew at least where he lived, so he made sure to scoop you up in his arms.

You stirred and mumbled but he shushed you gently, letting you know that everything was going to be okay.

Carlisle Cullen emerged from his home as soon as Seth hit the brake in front of the home.

“Seth, isn’t it?” Carlisle asks Seth as he got out of the car.

“Yes. I need your help.” Seth answers and carried you up the wooden steps. Carlisle looked down at you in pity.

Sam came with the others. Seth watched from the window as Carlisle made sure to get your vitals checked.

Seth walks outside and Sam crossed his arms.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Sam asked the young wolf. The others were sniggering.

Seth glared at them.

“I told you. Y/N is very sick. I need her better. I’m not letting her health decline because of some century old beef.” Seth says rolling his eyes.

“Sure..The bloodsucker will take good care of your imprint. Good thinking Seth.” Paul says and the others laugh at his joke.

“Shut your mouth!” Seth says and steps forward but Sam placed a strong hand on his chest.

“Stop it. Both of you.” Sam says.

“I’m going back to check on her.” Seth says, he was ready to go back to his imprint.

“Hopefully, she’s still alive.” Embry says and the cackles grow louder.

“Shut up! All of you.” Seth says to them and closed the door.

You were awake when he came back. Seth’s smile grew big and was immediately at your side.

“Are you alright?” he cooed to you.

You nod with a soft smile.

“I was able to knock her fever down. The bug she had was nasty.” Carlisle says and Seth shakes his hand.

“Thank you, Dr. Cullen. A lifesaver honestly.” Seth says with relief.

“My pleasure.” he tells Seth and lets you two be alone.

“Hold me, Seth.” you say to him.

“Of course.” he says and scoots next to you and holds you. His arms around you felt really good. You already started to feel much better.

[rafecamerons-national-anthem]

THE GIRL THAT WAS MINE-DREW STARKEY

The sound of the door creaked as it opened, and Drew Starkey stood frozen in the hallway. He had barely been able to process the message he’d received earlier that day, Y/N was back. After months of radio silence, she had finally come home. But what did that even mean? Was she back for good? Or was this just another one of those fleeting moments that only seemed to leave more questions than answers?

He took a deep breath and walked inside, his boots echoing against the floorboards of his childhood home. The place felt just as empty as it had when she left, quiet and lonely, with only memories lingering in the corners. His eyes scanned the room, landing on her.

She looked different, like she had changed in all the ways he couldn’t put his finger on. Her hair was a little longer, her face a little more guarded, like she wasn’t sure if she could let him in again.

“Hey,” she said softly, standing by the kitchen counter. Her voice was calm, but he could hear the hesitation in it. “You got my message?”

“Yeah,” Drew replied, his voice rough. “I got it. But I didn’t expect…this.”

She bit her lip, looking down at the floor for a moment before meeting his gaze again. “I didn’t expect to come back either. But I had to.”

The words were simple, but they hit him hard, like a punch in the gut. Because he knew exactly what she meant. She had left, just like the song said, packing up her life without a word and disappearing without a trace. And now, she was back, but it was clear things weren’t the same.

“You were gone for a long time,” Drew said quietly, crossing the room to stand in front of her. His eyes never left hers, searching for the answers she wasn’t saying. “Why now? Why come back?”

Y/N hesitated for a moment, her eyes flickering with uncertainty. “I don’t know…I didn’t want to. But I had to. I’ve been thinking about a lot of things… and I realized I can’t keep running from everything. I…I need to make some choices for myself.”

Drew felt his chest tighten as he took in her words. She wasn’t the same Y/N who had left. She wasn’t the girl who had trusted him, the one who had laughed with him at the kitchen table, who had shared her dreams and fears in the dark of the night. That girl was gone.

“I don’t know what you want from me,” Drew admitted, his voice lowering. “But I can’t just forget about everything we had, Y/N. I can’t just move on like it never happened.”

Her eyes softened, and for a moment, she looked like she might say something, something that would make everything feel less complicated. But the words didn’t come. Instead, she looked away.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” she said quietly. “But I can’t love you anymore. Not like I did. I need to be on my own right now. I can’t be in something that I can’t fully give myself to.”

The words stung, and Drew’s chest tightened at the confession. He had always known there was a part of her that was unreachable, but hearing it aloud, seeing the sadness in her eyes as she said it, felt like a punch to the gut. He hadn’t been enough. He hadn’t been able to give her whatever it was she needed, and now she was leaving. Again.

“You came home today,” Drew muttered under his breath, his voice rough with emotion. “And now you’re telling me to stay away.”

Y/N’s face flushed with emotion, but she held her ground. “I didn’t want to say it, Drew. But I have to. I have to do what’s right for me.”

“I thought we had something,” Drew said, his voice thick. “I thought we had something that would last. But you’re telling me to stay away, telling me you don’t love me anymore. You can’t just walk away from everything we were.”

“I never wanted to walk away,” Y/N whispered, her voice breaking slightly. “But I had to. I had to leave to figure out who I was. To figure out what I wanted. I didn’t expect to come back like this. But I’m not the same person I was when I left.”

Drew nodded, his heart sinking in his chest. He had heard the words, but they didn’t make it any easier to hear. He had tried to hold on to the hope that she’d come back and things would be the same, but they weren’t. And they never would be.

“So that’s it then,” he said, his voice quiet but heavy with regret. “You’re leaving again. You’re just gonna pack up and go, and I’m left here, alone.”

Y/N reached for his hand, but stopped just short of touching him. “I never meant to hurt you, Drew. I swear. But I can’t stay in something that doesn’t feel right for me anymore.”

“You’ve already hurt me, Y/N,” Drew replied, his voice raw. “You left without a word, without giving me a chance. I don’t know what to do with all this…I don’t know how to let you go.”

“You don’t have to let me go completely,” Y/N said, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I can’t be who you want me to be. I can’t be the person you need. Not right now.”

Drew swallowed hard, his eyes locking with hers. He didn’t know how to make sense of this, how to let go of everything they once had. But as he stared at her, he saw the truth in her eyes. She wasn’t the same person. And maybe he wasn’t either.

“I’ll never forget you, Y/N,” Drew said quietly, his voice tinged with finality. “You were mine once. And maybe I’ll always think of you that way. But I can’t keep waiting for you to come back. Not if you don’t want me to.”

She nodded slowly, as if she understood. Then, with one final, lingering glance, Y/N turned and walked away, leaving Drew standing there, lost in a sea of memories and feelings he didn’t know how to deal with.

And as she disappeared from sight, Drew couldn’t help but wonder if she would ever really come back. If she’d ever find her way back to him, or if she was already gone for good.

But for now, he was left with nothing but memories of the girl who once belonged to him. And maybe, just maybe, that would be enough.

𝕥𝕒𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥 @nicholaschavezslut69