#two pretty snowflakes

[drawballa]

❄️❄️❄️

[victorluvsalice]

Valicer Not-Incorrect Quotes, Christmas Edition

Victor: [knocking on Smiler's door with Alice] Smiler? Are you ready to go?

Smiler: [flings opens the door, sporting a bright yellow Santa hat, sparkly red and green eye makeup, a yellow sweater with purple snowflakes, and black pants featuring embroidered red and green light strings with real flashing lights in them] Hello, my lovelies! I bring the spirit of the season with me!

Alice: ...the spirit of the season is making my eyes bleed.

Smiler: That's an important Christmas tradition, let's go.

--

Victor: [enters Smiler's living room area to find them setting up a bright yellow Christmas tree] ...

Smiler: [looks over] What's up?

Victor: ...you really -- of course you do, why would I assume you'd have a green Christmas tree.

Smiler: Yeah, do I look like Thirteen? Now help me get this thing into the stand, it's being difficult.

--

Smiler: [arriving back at the trio's house post-everyone moving in together] Hey! I'm back!

Alice: [emerging from the kitchen to greet them] Welcome home -- Victor's currently making sure the gingerbread doesn't burn, but he'll be --

Alice: [pause, sniffs the air]

Alice: [knowingly] Ah. Peppermint latte season then?

Smiler: We had a special promotion so I'm probably going to smell like this until Easter, yeah.

--

Smiler: [noodling around on their drum set] Hey, you guys want to hear me play my special version of "Little Drummer Boy?"

Victor: Sure. [sits down on the couch]

Alice: [joining him] If you'd be so kind.

Smiler: My pleasure! [starts playing the familiar rhythm as they sing the song]

Victor & Alice: [listening attentively, smiling]

Smiler: [singing in time with their drum beats] ~I played my drum for Him pa-rum-pum-pum-pum; I played my best for Him, pa-rum-pum-pum~

Smiler: [segues into a solo that -- sounds rather different from the traditional pa-rum-pum-pum-pum beat]

Alice: [raises an eyebrow]

Victor: [looks confused -- and then something clicks, and he groans into his hands] Oh, you didn't...

Alice: ?

Victor: [singing along to the beat] ~Never gonna run around, and desert you~

Alice: [immediately whipping around to glare at Smiler]

Smiler: [big shit-eating grin] If Victor can make a classical piano version --

--

Emily: [coming into Galactica's living room, with Victoria, Victor, Alice, and Smiler in her wake] Hello all! We're here! We brought snacks!

Galactica: [getting up from the couch where she was sitting with Oblivion, Rita, and Thirteen] Hi! Thanks for coming!

Thirteen: [also getting up] Whatcha got?

Victoria: [proudly showing off a bunch of marshmallow snowmen with things like pretzel arms and licorice scarves] I found how to make them online -- aren't they cute?

Galactica: Awww, they're adorable.

Oblivion: Perfect -- we're doing Hallmark tonight.

Thirteen: [beaming] Yeah, I can't wait to get out the hot chocolate and drown Frosty.

Victoria: [stares at her with wide eyes]

Thirteen: What?

Victoria: [sternly, holding the tray protectively against herself] No.

Victor: [puzzled] Victoria, that was literally a serving suggestion on the site you found them on.

Victoria: No.

Alice: We brought them to be eaten. That was the whole point.

Victoria: I will fight you all to protect these snowmen.

Smiler: I love how you think that is a deterrent with my friends.

Rita: [cracking her knuckles with a grin] Yeah, bring it on.

--

[the trio are listening to "You're A Mean One, Mr. Grinch" on the radio]

Smiler: Would you like to know a fun fact about this song?

Alice: Hit us.

Smiler: Okay, so, while the short itself is narrated by Boris Karloff, this song isn't sung by him -- instead it's sung by a guy named Thurl Ravenscroft.

Victor: ...Well, I don't think I can ever complain about my middle name again. Who names their child Thurl?

Smiler: That bit I don't know, but do you know what Thurl's most famous voice acting role is?

Alice: I do not, but I suspect it's something gothic.

Smiler: Nope -- Tony the Tiger. As in Frosted Flakes's Tony.

Alice: What.

Victor: Really??

Smiler: Yup! And, thanks to one of the most popular tumblr blogs commenting that it sounds like Tony's breakup song to The Grinch, and someone else then drawing that -- well, there's now a Tony/Grinch fandom.

Alice: [laughing] Oh my God.

Victor: [also laughing] This is why tumblr is the most bizarre place on the internet. How do you get a weirder ship than that?

Smiler: [beaming] Well, there's Batman -- as Bruce Wayne -- being the side piece of Miss Piggy and Kermit. Also found on tumblr!

Victor: [shaking his head] I shouldn't have asked.

Alice: At this point, to get stranger, someone's going to have to throw together some random video game character, a stop-motion puppet, and a roller coaster.

Smiler: Trust me, I'm sure somebody's done that.

--

[queencryo]

singlets who follow us please help with your knowledge!!

do you ever have times that you feel more 'yourself' than usual?? tims that you feel your true or internal self shine through?? where do you feel that feeling? how does it compare to when you dont feel that?

[irndad]

i wish i knew you wanted me - s.r.

a/n: okay this ended up being so so long forgive me!!! i hope you like<3 summary: based loosely on 'bad habit'. spencer got asked out by reader 5 years ago, when he was recovering from his dilaudid addiction, and turned her down. now, he's in love with her, and pining for her. also, jealous!spencer. she fell first, he fell harder. wc: ~2k

She’s very pretty. It’s distracting. Right now, she’s staring intently at his hands, and he feels hot under her gaze. It’s been a while since he’s done this, the little rocket trick, but she’s visiting the office, and Garcia had mentioned he’s a magician. 

“That’s incredible!” She exclaims, a giggle in her laugh, and he feels the swoop of his stomach, the butterflies of it all, “You got them so high up!”

“It’s just physics,” he laughs, meeting her warm gaze. Her smile is one for the ages. 

She’s here dropping off a file. They’ve known eachother a really long time, actually. She was an expert witness for them, once, years ago. She spoke with ease, both on the stand and in person. Equal measure kind and measured, and Spencer had adored her on first glance. They’d met when he was just getting clean from Dilaudid, and Spencer’s been in love with her since not long after than first meeting. That’s pretty much the only thing about her he wishes he could take back. 

He still has a hard time thinking about it, the fact that he met her when he was barely himself. Still, she’d been kind, listened to him talk and let the others tell her that he was…going through something. It was on his two month sobriety date (which she’d had no way of knowing) that she’d asked him out. 

Sometimes, when he can’t sleep, he replays the memory in his head. How she works just south of their office, and how they’d meet at the café nearest, and chat for an hour before calling a cab home. 

On the other side of the veil, he can picture that night, years ago now. How she’d looked with the snow kissing her nose, dotting the edges of her faux-fur hood. She’d stuck out her tongue to catch a snowflake, and he’d almost combusted and the adorability of it. 

“You look nice,” she’d said, although at the time he’s pretty sure he looked gaunt. He’d only recently started to gain the weight back- but still, her praise felt like stardust. 

“You look nicer,” he’d said back, gently bumping her shoulder as a fond gesture. Her little grin is well-worth how awkward they both look on the street.

“Listen,” she had said, stuffing her hands into her pockets, the size of the coat causing her hands to disapear from sight entirely, “I asked JJ and Morgan, and they said you’re not seeing anyone.”

“Oh, yeah. They love reminding me of that. Not everyone can be like Morgan and have dated half the western hemsiphere.”

He felt embarrassed, her watching him. It’s nice, but sometimes feels like staring into the sun. 

Her chuckle was nervous, not fully reaching her eyes. 

“You okay? 

“Yeah,” she swallowed again, before speaking, “I was wondering, um, if you might want to grab a drink with me?”

“Sure,” he’d replied back, amenably. He couldn’t tell why she looked so nervous, “I can’t really do hard liquor, though. Maybe we can invite the team.”

“No, Spence, I was wondering if you and I could go on a um, a date.”

And he’s frozen. Because this might be the second time he’d ever been asked out, and second, this might be his dream girl. She’s gorgeous and kind and she’s in front of him, asking him out. 

“I um,” his mouth was dry. He’d be a bad boyfriend. He was a recovering drug addict who already was bad at talking to people, and she lit up a room whenever she walked in. She finds him easy to be with, easy to care for and he’s bound to fuck it up. He couldn’t imagine giving that up because he was too greedy to take what he got. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

He almost took it back with incredible speed, with that flash of disapointment on her lovely face, and the knowledge that it’s because she wanted him, before she quickly regained her speech.

“That’s totally alright! We’ll just be good friends, yeah?”

In the here and now, they are friends. Best of, really. And he made the right choice. He’d lashed out at Emily a month later in a withdrawl, and he knows that he’d have done the same to her, and now, she’s still in his life. 

The drawbacks of course, to being her friend, means she has dates. Boyfriends, as well, and he’s been a…friend, through it all. Good friend. She’s never suspeced him of anything more, of course, after he’d categorically rejected it. 

(Even though this rejection plays in his head all the fucking time, like a torturous groundhog day.)

She’s beautiful today, a blue blouse with a scarf lazily around her neck, and the way she’s leaning over his desk to see the  trick before she drops off her analysis. 

“Alright, Spence,” she says, her rose perfume wafting in the air prior to her hopping off the corner, “Did you need anything else? Today is my half-day, and Harry wanted to take me to Art Insititute.”

Harry, is the boy on rotation at the moment. Spencer has no impulse control and a super-computer expert best friend, so Spencer knows that Harry is 6’0 on his Driver’s License, and is a Financial Analyst. Spencer knows from her own mouth that this will be the third date, and that he’s a little boring but she’s attracted to the fact that he was direct and wanted to go out again. 

Low bar, but one Spencer couldn’t even clear. He doesn’t say any of that, though.

“That sounds fun,” he says, instead of saying that he’d love to walk her through the inscriptions on each art piece, love to kiss her in front of something thats’ beauty does not come close to her’s. “Are you thinking it might run long, or are we still doing the bookstore and TV at mine after?”

He’s been looking forward to this all week. He bought special marshmallows for her cocoa. He also htes to imagine her date running long. 

“Nah,” she smiles, “besides, he’s just some guy. You’re Spencer.”

Morgan doesn’t say anything when he looks down at his. paperwork, and scribbles instead of thinking, the best he can. 

________________________________

Don’t think about the fact she was on a date. Don’t think about how Harry might have got to kiss her. Just don’t bring it up. 

“How was the date?”

She shrugged, pulling at the spine of a hardcover novel. 

“It was fine. Like I said, he was kind of boring.”

“So why’d you go out with him again?”

“I dunno, Spence, I just… I want a boyfriend, you know? I want someone to want to be with me.”

She is so beautiful. She laughs with her whole chest, and she listens to his stories and chimes in with her own expertise. She has a voice that seems like it’s spun gold thread, and he’d give anything to kiss her. 

“I get that,” he says, instead of anything he’s thinking. She’s wearing brown lipstick, transfer proof. He’s in love with her. “There’s got to be guys lining up for a girl like you.”

“That’s a nice thought, Spence. Not the ones I’d like.”

___________________________

This thought haunts his evening, and when he parks and they start the walk-up to his apartment, a confession hammering at his throat, a physical urge. She’s giggling at some long physics joke he’d made, and he’s addicted to the soft bell of her laughter.

His apartment is small and lovely, and he enjoys having her in the small and dark of the night, the sun set over what he wishes were two lovers. 

“You are really pretty, you know,” he says, once she’s settled into his chest, a sick satisfaction of knowing Harry got a quick thank you text before she darted over to Spencer’s arms. 

“Thanks, Spencer. You’re a good friend.”

“Why do you always say that?”

“That you’re a good friend?”

“I’m not saying you’re pretty because I’m a good friend. I’m saying it because it’s true, and I enjoy saying true things.” 

“You don’t…I don’t know why you’re saying that, Spencer. We’re friends and I adore you and I’m here right now, but you don’t need to make it harder on me.”

She looks nervous, and a little disapointed. He wants her to know, that even if he’s missed his shot, she’s not going to be alone. He’s gonna spend the rest of his life hating whoever knew to take the best thing offered to him, but Spencer- he knows he is not going to be the last to love her. He grabs her hand without thinking, her doe eyes peering into his with some emotion he can’t pin down. 

“Hey, I’m not trying…to make anything hard for you. I don’t ever want to do that. I just… some day someone’s gonna see you and want to be with you and I’m going to watch it and know it was inevitable.” 

The words taste like barbed wire. 

Ask me again, he wants to beg, I’m ready now. I’ll do it right. 

Is that even true? Is it just that he wants her bad enough he’s willing to risk not doing it right?

“You’re so sweet,” she sobs, and oh, she’s crying. Just a little, but tears prick at the corners of her eyes. “You make it so hard to be your friend. And I know that’s my problem, that you’ve always been straight up with me. I asked you out and you said no, and I know that-“

“I know that I was too late, and freaked out about being with someone like you when I was still so fucked up.” they’re so close to eachother, he can smell her chapstick. His chest aches. “Sweetheart, that had nothing to do with you. It was all me. It’s a train I missed that I’m gonna spend the rest of my life wishing I’d caught.”

He feels uncomfortably bare, even in the oversized sweater that she’d gotten him last Christmas, and that he’d pretended had been from his lover all of that week. But it’s important that she knows.

“What do you mean, ‘too late’?”

Her voice is small, so quiet he barely hears it. She threads her nimble fingers into his slender ones, and his heart is hammering. 

“I-I was on Dilaudid, or just barely off, you know- you wouldn’t want to be with someone like me. You asked me out when you didn’t even know that.”

“I know you now. Years worth of knowing.”

“And you haven’t asked me since.” 

“Spencer,” her voice is warm, rich like silk and grainy old music, and he wants to drink this image in, her fingers stroking the side of his face like he’s holy. He wonders if he’s dreaming, with how good she feels to be so close to. 

Ask me again, he wants to beg. I’m ready, now. 

“Spencer Walter Reid,” she says, properly holding his hand, bringing her soft lips to his hand, kissing his knuckle. He feels anointed, blessed by a higher power. “Could I take you out on a date?”

“Yes,” he says, finally. Five years of waiting melts away as he kisses her, warmth and light seeping into existence, a dream brought to tangible life, to touch and reality, “Actually, wait,” he says, and finishes before her face can fall, “Would you be my girlfriend?”

It’s maybe playing his cards too much, but her wide, ear to ear splitting grin is everything he needs to see, everything he might need to see for the rest of his life. 

“Took you long enough, boy-genius.”

“All you had to do was ask again!”

If she has a complaint about that, it certainly couldn’t be heard by the many, many kisses that would follow. 

[readwritealldayallnight]

“-and every year after that, we always had double chocolate chip cookies instead of regular chocolate chip. Made me stand out at the school bakes sales, too! And I would beg and beg and beg my mom to make them before any other sweets-”

“Got my stomach grumblin’ over here now, love.” Simon cuts off your rambling with a loving chuckle. The first winter’s snow began falling from the sky in London that morning, and you’d been eager to tell your lover about the traditions you’d had growing up around this time of year.

“Well imagine how I felt, Si!” You say with a giggle, patting his stomach in emphasis. “I swear, it’s become a true Pavlovian response, I see the first snowflakes and I instantly start craving those cookies again. Like when I was little…”

Simon sees the melancholic smile playing across your lips, and he knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that first chance he gets, he’ll be ringing your mum to get said recipe from her.

And if you walk into your shared flat a few days later, the smell of burnt something wafting through the air, fire alarm beeping incessantly, coming upon a flustered looking 6’4” behemoth of a man swatting a flowery dish towel through the air in attempt to dissipate the smoke coming from the oven, well, the sentiment behind your lover wanting to surprise you with your favourite treat from childhood is a thousand times sweeter than the cookie itself.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Ooh, look at those ones over there!” You exclaim, tightening your grip on Simon’s arm. You’re both strolling through a local farmers market on a dreary Sunday afternoon with nothing better to do. Your free hand points towards a stall selling beautifully intricate bouquets of flowers. “They’re so pretty for this late in the season.”

Simon is glancing over at the stall, minutely nodding in agreement, before his gaze shifts back to the crowd.

“Want one?”

“Oh, no, that’s okay. Just thought they looked nice. We don’t need any.” You say, leading him past the stall, not noticing when he glances back over his shoulder to remember the name written at the top of the display.

Once back home, upon hearing your gasp of surprise followed by what he recognizes now as your excited squeal, he smirks to himself in the other room, knowing you’ve stumbled upon the bouquet he had delivered during your nap.

What you don’t know is that he’s already set it up so that you’ll be receiving a new fresh set of flowers every week now, delivered straight to your front steps.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Really wasn’t that bad this time around, promise.” You mumble into his firm chest, his muscular arms holding you there as you snuggle on the couch. He got back from a two week deployment last night, and you’re still catching him up on everything he missed. “I made a point of going outside everyday, for a change of scenery at least.”

“Tha’s good, lovie.” He whispers, running his digits through the strands of your hair, careful not to tug any time he runs into knot, instead gently trying to comb it out himself.

“Not like I was all alone, anyhow.” You say with a small giggle, biting your lip. He finds himself answering with his own lighthearted chuckle, sitting up straighter to glance at the table over your shoulder. “Gave me something to look forward to each day, feeding the lil’ guy.”

“Was hoping it’d be a nice surprise for ya. Not another chore…”

“Oh, Goldie’s not a chore.” You laugh, swatting at Simon’s chest. You also take the time to glance over at the goldfish in question, swimming in the small circular fish bowl that Simon had somehow snuck into the flat the day before he left. He hated the idea of leaving you alone all the time, never knowing when he’d have a chance to speak on the phone, and he didn’t want to burden you with a larger, more high maintenance animal like a dog or cat. And so, Goldie was brought home.

“Although, I’m worried maybe he’s getting lonely when I’m out of the house. Might have to get him a friend.”

Simon doesn’t even try to hide the corny grin that spreads across his face.

“Have I ever told you the joke about the two goldfish in a tank?”

[ellecdc]

James' Love & the Adventures of Padvix

poly!marauders x fem!reader who is very foxy [1.2k words]

CW: animagus reader, modern AU but still magical, they're staying at an airBNB, padfoot and vixen are out of control and James [+ Remus] are smitten

Remus looked so pretty; his cheeks and nose kissed pink by the cold, a soft, satisfied smile on his face, and the snowflakes landing on his hat and tawny curls poking out from under it that took their sweet time to melt under his effervescent warmth. 

James was in love. 

“Are you going to help me here or are you just going to keep staring?” Remus commented then, not bothering to look up at his boyfriend whilst a cheeky smirk danced on his lips. 

James wanted to kiss him senseless. 

So he did. 

Remus tasted like the peppermint hot chocolate he enjoyed earlier, the peppermint hot chocolate he’d probably enjoy when they got back inside, the cold winter air, and happiness. 

James was in love. 

“Sorry Moons.” He murmured against his lips before pressing one more, two more, let’s make it three more kisses to his lips before he did indeed help load the chopped wood into the strong IKEA bags.

The two of them stepped into the steamy warm cabin. No, it wasn’t actually steamy, that was just James’ glasses. But before James' bag of firewood even hit the ground, gentle fingers were pulling them from his face before Remus pressed a kiss to his nose. 

James was in love. 

De-fog-ified, James’ glasses made themselves back home on his face as he looked around the living space of the small cabin the four of you had rented for the week. 

“Where’d they go?” He inquired aloud, hearing a canine ‘oomph’ in response. 

Remus and James both moved to stand behind the sofa to find you and Sirius - or, rather, Pads and Vix - on the rug in front of the fire. Padfoot appeared to be laying casually (which told James and Remus that he was very much up to something) whilst Vix performed dramatic “mousing” jumps onto Padfoot’s back, eliciting those canine “oomph’s” they had heard upon entering. 

James was in love. 

“I’m pretty sure this airBNB was ‘no pets allowed’ you two.” Remus teased, though he seemed no less pleased at watching the two of you roughhouse. 

“Please.” James scoffed as he lazily fell over the back of the sofa. “A quick vanishing spell and we’ll be leaving this place cleaner than we found it.” 

“Why do you think we get perfect ratings for every place we rent?” Remus chuckled as he navigated around the sofa like a normal person, lifting his leg when you started to zoomie across the area rug and nearly collided with him. “Merlin, Vix, you’re a hazard.” 

Padfoot let out what sounded awfully close to a laugh before Vix went to do one of her mousing jumps at him again, only for him to roll onto his back so that her front paws landed into his stomach and then rolled back over, completely encapsulating the much smaller fox under his large frame. 

If James was none the wiser, he would have assumed that the dog was the only animal in the dwelling; Padfoot returning to laying far too casually. 

James was in love. 

“Padfoot.” Remus chided, giving the dog a look of faux exasperation. “Can she even breathe under there?” 

The dog huffed in a way that told both boys he was rolling his eyes before two front paws circled the tip of his tail and two back paws started bunny kicking the base. Padfoot seemed to be cocking an unimpressed eyebrow at the little vixen as James started cackling. 

“She’s wild today.” 

“I have a feeling it’s not one sided.” Remus murmured in response as Vix’s head popped out from under the large dog's fur, the two of them staring each other down before both of Padfoot’s front paws slammed down onto the rug in an invitation to play, and Vix launched herself at his face. 

Vix ended up on her back between his paws as she swatted and nipped at Padfoot’s muzzle and bunny kicked the thick fur around his neck as Padfoot mouth-wrestled and gently nipped at Vix’s scruff. 

“Oh come on you guys,” James moaned, “you’re gonna be all slobbery!” 

Padfoot stood then - tail straight up in the air and wagging slowly - allowing Vix to stand and bolt in one direction, reappearing from the other side of the room before Padfoot even began his chase. 

James was almost dizzy when all he could see was the occasional blur of orange fur and Padfoot pausing in the middle of the room with his ears and tail up before the blur reappeared and he took off again after her, Remus laughing so heartily at the chaos that he ended up nearly collapsing into James’ side. 

James was in love. 

The room fell eerily quiet for a moment before Vix flew over the back of the sofa, landing between James and Remus, and Padfoot appeared in front of them looking disturbingly close to launching his very large frame at the bunch of them. 

“Pads, don’t you dare!” Remus shouted through a laugh, holding his hands up as if ready to fend off the large dog. 

Vix seemed to think it was hilarious too; the high pitched cackling sound foxes often make leaving her mouth as she flattened herself to the sofa - so happy, so excited, so full of love that her entire little body seemed wholly incapable of staying still. 

James was in love. 

Padfoot let out an excited bark and licked excitedly at Remus’ hands before moving his affection to Vix’s head. 

“No!” James laughed before scooping the fox up into his arms. “I want cuddles before the two of you are covered in slobber.” 

Vix melted into James’ embrace whilst Padfoot clumsily made his way up onto the sofa that he was a little too big to fit on, though Remus still did his best to accommodate him. 

“The two of you are menaces.” Remus muttered good naturedly as he threw his arm over the back of the sofa. 

“She started it!” The now human form of Sirius argued as he leaned into Remus's side.

“Who? Her?” James asked as he held Vix’s little face up against his own, both of them shooting Sirius their best puppy dog face. “Sirius, look at her. How could she be the problem?”

“So what? I’m automatically the problem?” Sirius scoffed in offence. 

“Yes.” James and Remus chorused. 

“I’m cute too!” Sirius nearly shrieked then. 

“Adorable.” Remus agreed quickly. “But you’re the kind of cute that screams trouble.” 

“Oh, as opposed to what? Her innocence?” Sirius muttered then, gesturing to Vix with a frustrated hand. 

His ire melted away, though, when the fox gave his hand a gentle lick. 

“Oh for Merlin’s sake, she’s adorable.” He grumbled petulantly as he stole the fox from James’ embrace, cradling it in his arms so Remus and James could admire you from over his shoulders.

You melted back into yourself then, smiling widely up at the three boys; love, mischief, excitement, and contentment oozing from your being that could only come with knowing how loved you were and loving them just as much in turn. 

James was so in love.

[letsbangts]

baby, please come home || jjk

⤷ summary: when he's the only thing you want for Christmas

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader

⟶ word count: 1.2k+

⟶ genre: fluff, angst (just a sprinkle), married couple au, established relationship au, christmas themed

⟶ content: husband!jk, dad!jk, pregnant!oc, oc is a slightly emotional expecting mother (eight months along), and koo being a deticated expecting father

⟶ warnings: none just some fluff with a dash of angst to make it sentimental because it's the holidays

↬ a/n: this isn't what I thought I would write for this request and I wasn't going to do it so soon but I got inspired by 'christmas (baby please come home) mariah carey's version' & I thought it would make cute drabble so to everyone who reads hope you enjoy and let me know what you think! :) angel xoxo

masterlist

The snow is coming down all around you as if encased in a snow globe. You watch it fall around you as it makes its way to add to the thick layer already accumulated on the ground beneath your feet. You walk through the Christmas market, looking at the stalls and decorations. Your eyes glance at the bodies around you: families, friends, lovers — surrounded by many people, except for the one you want beside you the most.

The church bells ring, blending with the happy sounds of the town's excitement buzzing in your ears. You finally make your way to the heart of the town square; the carolers begin singing "Deck The Halls" just as you arrive. The usual holiday cheer you would feel is absent, along with the person who brings that joy.

Your mind takes you back to this day last year and all the fun it held, all the memories made together. Sipping hot chocolate with his arm wrapped around you, the hand-holding with both your hands stuffed in his coat pocket, and your cold lips pressed against each other to warm them with sweet kisses.

As you gaze up at the enormous Christmas tree adorned with pretty lights like those shining all around the town, the loss of the new memories you should be making together this year creates a lump in your throat. He should be here with you, with both of you.

You pull out your phone and tap his contact; the phone rings for a few seconds before Jungkook's face appears on the screen. A bright smile on his face that rivals all the lights around you. His face is so close to the camera that you can't see anything behind him, but the snowflakes in his hair, paired with his red cheeks and nose from the cold— just like yours—show that he is also outside.

You can't help but smile back at him, although it doesn't quite reach your eyes. As much as seeing him brings you happiness, you can't help but feel a touch of melancholy that his presence can only be through the phone.

"Hey, sweetheart."

"Hey, baby. I wanted to show you the tree this year; it keeps getting bigger, I swear."  

You hold the phone out and lower it, trying to fit the whole tree behind you in the screen.

"Whoa, that thing is massive! I'd hate to be the person who had to wrap the lights on it; there must be at least ten thousand on it."

You giggle at Jungkook's remark as you raise the phone to speak to him.

"It's so pretty here, Kook. I wish you could see it in person," you say with a sad smile.

"I doubt it's anywhere near as pretty as you, but I wish I were there too, darling. I tried everything I could to find a flight back in time, but as you can imagine, I wasn't the only one trying to make it back home for the holidays."

"I know, but it's unfair for them to send you away for work so close to Christmas. Then, to extend it even more, it's as if they were plotting to keep you away," you pout.

"It is unfair, and trust me, I pleaded my case to the airline agents to please let me get home to my adorable pregnant wife for Christmas, but it didn't seem to work on them. They're all Grinches, I swear," he tries to lighten the mood and continues, "Speaking of which, how are my two favourite girls doing? Let me see!"

You hold the phone out again to angle the camera to show your eight-month-pregnant belly. You sigh as you rub a hand over it.

"We're good, just missing you. She hasn't been kicking as much; I swear she knows that Daddy isn't here."

"I miss you both too, but I'll be back before you know it, and we can celebrate then."

"But it's Christmas Day; I need you here. It is our first one as a family, and we're not whole without you. I wish there were a way for you to come home, baby," your voice cracks as you look away from the screen, trying to hold back tears.

Jungkook catches a glimpse of your tear-filled eyes gleaming under the lights and sighs. The cold weather allows you to see his breath as it floats in the air.

"Hey, you know I would do anything to be there with both of you."

You catch him glancing up over his phone before he continues.

"Now, don't cry. You look too beautiful standing by the tree, surrounded by all the decorations like a Christmas angel, to feel sad. The old man selling cookies will be offended; he'll think you don't like their smell if he sees you," he smiles to cheer you up.

You wipe your tears and sniffle as you softly laugh. You look around, trying to find said man, until you eventually spot his stall emitting the delicious aroma, selling gingerbread and sugar cookies.

You furrow your brows once everything processes in your head. You look back at Jungkook on the screen.

"Wait, h-how did you know that?"

"I'm quite aware of how beautiful my wife is," he chuckles.

"No, I mean, how did you know there is a cookie stall in front of me, and an old man is running it? You can't even see it. Did the camera flip, and I didn't notice?"

A hand taps your shoulder, and you jolt at the sudden touch before turning around. Your eyes widen, and a gasp escapes your mouth as you come face to face with Jungkook. Your husband's smiling face is no longer on the screen but right before you, and your hand holding the phone falls to your side. He opens his arms wide for a hug as you stare at him like a deer caught in headlights.

"But you just—when—how did you get here?" you stutter in shock.

Jungkook laughs, and when he sees you make no move to come into his embrace, he steps forward and pulls you into his arms. You snap out of your daze and immediately wrap your arms around him.

He kisses your forehead. "I told you I would do anything to be here with both of you," he whispers in your hair.

"But there were no flights," you mumble into his chest.

"Yeah, but there were still some bus tickets available. It might have been a much longer journey, but I had to be sure I was here." He pulls back and holds your stomach with both hands as he leans down and kisses it before looking up at you. "There was no way I would miss spending Christmas with my family."

He returns to a stand, and you run your fingers through his hair before your hands settle at the nape of his neck. You gaze into each other's eyes and lean in for a long-awaited kiss.

You break apart just enough to whisper over his lips, "I love you so much. Merry Christmas, Kook."

"I love you too. Merry Christmas, Y/N," he whispers back, lips brushing over yours.

You lean back in for a passionate kiss but are interrupted by a kick to your belly. You both break apart with a gasp.

"Did she just?" Jungkook asks with a smile.

"It seems we're both happy that you came home," you laugh.

Jungkook joins your laughter as he takes your stomach back into his grasp and leans back down, giving it another peck before he whispers, "And I love you, too. Merry Christmas, my little angel." 

↬ a/n: there you go just a little drabble for you all to snack on before mutt pt2 ;)

[archangeldyke-all]

Idea: Isha thinks Santa is real and is horrified of him because she thinks he doesn’t like her because she never celebrated before as well, she was a kid in the mines.

When decorating time rolls around she’s all pouty and sad until you and Sev confront the poor baby.

this is so fucking funny hahahaehhhaheahe

men and minors dni

it's christmas eve.

your family doesn't do the traditional christmas, especially since your family wasn't even a family this time last year.

you and sevika's usual christmas tradition is a nice homemade meal by the fire, maybe exchanging a few gifts, ending the night in your matching mr. and mrs. claus lingerie (just two santa hat and whatever red underwear you can find.)

but now you've got the girls, so you're trying to get a little more festive.

jinx and isha drug home a fallen pine tree branch a few days ago, decorating it with streamers and paper snowflakes they made themselves.

you and sevika splurged on christmas lights, hanging them on your front porch and lining the walls of your home with the multi-colored twinkles. of course, you've both been hoarding gifts for the girls-- anything and everything you could find that you thought they might enjoy you've piled up in the you and sevika's super secret hiding spot (under the bed) waiting to be wrapped tonight when the girls go to sleep.

it's been fun!

isha's been endlessly enchanted by the sparkly lights lining the streets, she squeals each time she sees a rudolph or snowman decoration, and she's obsessed with all the sweet treats that come around with this time of year. hot chocolate, christmas cookies, candy canes-- isha loves it all.

jinx has been having a wonderful time introducing isha to all the fun traditions that come around with the season. she custom made herself and isha matching stockings (she made you, vi, and sevika stockings too-- but none of them were quite as sparkly and fun as isha's.) she's been referring to the little girl as her 'elf'-- isha always bursts into giggles when she does. and when there's fresh snow-- jinx has been bundling the little girl up and dragging her outside to introduce her to the joys of snowballs and snowmen and snow angels.

so, overall, you've all been feeling pretty jolly.

but... you're starting to get a little worried tonight, because isha's been becoming increasingly restless.

you've got the fire going, christmas music playing on the radio, the four of you sharing a plate of cookies and sipping on eggnog in matching flannel jammies.

isha's frowning down at her feet, a worried furrow in her brow.

jinx is fighting off sleep on the couch, sevika's stoking the fire. you reach out and nudge the little girl's shoulder.

"you okay, baby?" you ask. sevika blinks over at the pair of you concern on her face as she looks at isha.

isha blinks up at you with anxious eyes. what is santa? she signs.

you look at your wife, the two of you having a panicked, telepathic conversation.

should we tell her he's not real? sevika's face reads.

you shrug. she's only five, she deserves at least one year of believing, don't you think? you ask with a quirk of your brow.

sevika sighs and gestures for you to speak. you giggle.

"santa's an old man who lives in the north pole, making toys all year with the help of his elves. on christmas eve, when we're all sleeping, he travels across the world using magic and flying reindeer, leaving presents for well-behaved kiddos just like you!" you explain happily.

only, isha looks horrified.

he comes in our house when we're sleeping!? she signs. sevika chuckles. what if he robs us?

"nah, kid, santa's a jolly old man. he's not a thief. he's been doin' this for hundreds of years and he's i've never heard of anyone getting robbed by santa." sevika says.

isha still looks skeptical. okay... but what about the song? he sees me when i'm sleeping and knows when i'm awake? how?

sevika snorts. "you're awfully smart for a five year old." she says, ruffling her hair. "santa's magic kid, 's how it all works." she explains.

isha hums, kicking her feet and digesting the new information. jinx snorts awake, blinking around and trying to pretend she's been awake the whole time.

what if he doesn't like me? isha signs.

your heart breaks a little, and you wrap your arm around her. "why wouldn't santa like you, kiddo? you're a great little girl. way better than jinx-- and jinx never got coal."

"hey!" jinx protests.

isha giggles a bit, then she frowns again, a tear trailing down her cheek. but... he never left me presents before.

your heart shatters. beside you, sevika lets out a heartbroken whimper.

"oh, isha baby..." you coo, pulling the girl into your lap.

"santa's not real, isha." jinx cuts in. you and sevika gasp and glare at her and she chuckles. "what?! it's true. he's made up, he's a fairy tale-- parents use him to trick little kids into behaving well."

isha sighs in relief. so, if i'm bad ms. baby and big mama will still give me presents? she asks.

you burst into giggles, and beside you sevika cackles.

"'course, kiddo. sevika gave me a holiday present the same year i blew her fuckin' arm off-- there's not much you can do that'll stop 'em from spoiling you from now on." jinx says.

well... shit. now you've got tears in your eyes. you didn't know that about sevika, and it only makes you love her more. you reach out and grab her hand, only to find it shaking a little. she must be just as affected by jinx's words as you are.

it takes you a few seconds to make sure your voice won't wobble before you speak. "alright, speaking of-- the two of you gotta go to your room so me and sev can put your gifts out. try to sleep, please." you say.

jinx giggles and pulls isha in her arms, both of them hugging and kissing you and sevika goodnight before wandering to their room.

the second their door clicks closed, you and sevika are in eachother's arms, crying with gratitude for your girls; the best gift you could've fucking asked for.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed @dvrkhcld @sweetybuzz25

@sluttysierraaa @snake-in-a-flower-crown @ruiwonderz @littlemisszaunite

[misswynters]

Cookie Chaos

featuring. husband! sylus and wife! reader

There was a scent of cinnamon and nutmeg that filled the kitchen, mingling with the holiday music playing softly in the background. The twins, with their small aprons adorned with tiny snowflakes, stood on stools next to the counter, their eager hands reaching for flour and sugar. Their giggles echoed through the room, a sweet melody of joy as they worked under your supervision to bake cookies for the holiday party. You leaned against the kitchen island, watching the scene unfold, the corners of your mouth twitching as you fought to contain your laughter.

Sylus stood at the stove, his expression a mixture of exasperation and mild amusement as he stirred a pot of hot chocolate. “Sweetie,” he muttered, glancing at you with a pointed look, “are you sure this was a good idea?” His voice was low and gruff, but there was a tenderness beneath it that softened the scolding.

Before you could answer, one of the twins who were covered in a dusting of flour, grabbed the measuring cup with both hands and with their excitement, spilled half of it on the counter. Sylus pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled through his teeth. “Careful,” he said, his tone steady but firm. “We’re supposed to be making cookies, not a disaster zone.”

“They’re doing fine,” you said, biting back a laugh as the other twin grabbed a fistful of sprinkles and tossed it into the air like confetti. A rainbow of tiny sugar dots rained down, landing on the counter and the floor. With the chaotic mess of the baking, Sylus carefully cleaned stovetop. Patience running thin.

However before Sylus could protest, the sound of heavy boots echoed through the hallway. Kieran and Luke entered, their grins as mischievous as ever. “What’s this?” Kieran asked, leaning against the doorframe. “A baking party without us? That’s just rude.”

Luke’s sharp eyes scanned the scene, taking in the twins’ messy but enthusiastic efforts. “Looks like you’ve got your hands full,” he said dryly, his lips curving into a faint smirk.

Sylus groaned, setting the spoon down with a clatter. “No. Absolutely not. You two are not—”

“Too late!” Kieran interrupted, rolling up his sleeves as he strode toward the counter. “We’re already here, might as well help.”

“‘Help,’” Sylus repeated, his tone heavy with skepticism as he crossed his arms. “The last time you two ‘helped,’ the kitchen smelled like burnt sugar for a week.”

Luke shrugged, already picking up a rolling pin. “That’s what happens when you experiment with caramel,” he said matter-of-factly, ignoring Sylus’s glare.

The twins, thrilled by the new additions to their team, clapped their hands and cheered. “Uncle Kieran! Uncle Luke! Look, we’re making cookies!”

Kieran leaned down, his face level with theirs, and whispered loud enough for everyone to hear, “How about we make the biggest cookie ever? Like, one the size of a plate.”

Sylus’s brows knit together as he straightened his posture, a looming figure of disapproval. “Absolutely not. Stick to the recipe.”

But Kieran was already pouring extra chocolate chips into the batter, much to the twins’ delight. Luke, ever the quieter instigator, grabbed another mixing bowl and began preparing a second batch, muttering something about “adding some flair.”

You couldn’t help it anymore; a laugh escaped you, as you leaned back against the counter. Sylus shot you a look, one brow arched in mock indignation. “Sweetie, you’re supposed to be on my side.”

“I am,” you said, wiping a tear of laughter from the corner of your eye. “But you’ve got to admit, this is pretty entertaining.”

“Entertaining isn’t the word I’d use,” he muttered, his gaze shifting back to Kieran, who was now attempting to juggle eggs to impress the twins. One egg slipped from his grasp, landing with a splat on the floor.

Sylus inhaled sharply through his nose, his jaw tightening as he grabbed a towel to clean up the mess. “Kieran,” he said, his voice calm but edged with warning, “if you don’t stop acting like a circus act, you’re banned from the kitchen. Permanently.”

Kieran grinned, unrepentant. “Relax, Sylus. It’s the holidays. Live a little.”

Luke, meanwhile, had somehow managed to get powdered sugar on his shirt, his usually impeccable demeanor slightly disheveled. “This is why I don’t cook,” he muttered under his breath, though there was a faint smile on his lips as one of the twins handed him a cookie cutter shaped like a star.

The kitchen became a flurry of activity, with the twins shouting out instructions, Kieran making exaggerated declarations about being the “best baker in the galaxy,” and Luke quietly fixing whatever chaos his brother caused. You watched it all with a full heart, your gaze drifting to Sylus, who was doing his best to keep everything from spiraling out of control.

Despite his grumbles and sighs, there was a softness to his movements as he leaned over to guide one of the twins’ hands while they rolled out dough. His large fingers enveloped their tiny ones, and his voice dropped to a gentle murmur as he explained how to press the cutter firmly into the dough.

“Like this,” he said, demonstrating with patience that belied his usual gruffness. The twin beamed up at him, their face glowing with pride as they successfully cut out a perfect snowman shape.

You caught his eye from across the room and smiled. “You’re a natural, you know.”

Sylus scoffed, though a faint blush crept up his neck. “Don’t start, sweetie.”

By the time the cookies were in the oven, the kitchen looked like a war zone. Flour dusted every surface, sprinkles crunched underfoot, and smudges of chocolate adorned everyone’s cheeks. Kieran had somehow managed to get frosting in his hair, and Luke was carefully peeling a sticky candy cane off his sleeve.

Sylus surveyed the chaos with a resigned sigh, his hands on his hips. “This is what happens when I let you two in here,” he said, his tone more tired than angry.

Kieran clapped him on the back. “Lighten up, Sylus. The kids had fun, didn’t they?”

The twins, now perched on stools, nodded vigorously. “It was the best day ever!” one of them declared, their face glowing with happiness.

Sylus’s expression softened as he looked at them, his annoyance melting away like snow under the sun. “Yeah,” he said quietly, almost to himself. “It was.”

As the cookies baked, the family gathered in the living room to wait. The twins, still buzzing with energy, sat on the rug and began sorting through cookie cutters, debating which ones were their favorites. Kieran sprawled on the couch, one arm draped over the backrest, while Luke leaned against the armchair, his expression one of calm amusement.

You settled into the loveseat next to Sylus, leaning into his side. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “You’re too soft on them,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple.

“That’s because I know when to pick my battles,” you replied, smiling up at him.

He chuckled, a low, rich sound that made your heart flutter. “I’ll never understand how you put up with all this chaos.”

“Because it’s our chaos,” you said, resting your head against his chest. “And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

When the timer dinged, signaling that the cookies were ready, the twins scrambled to the kitchen, dragging Kieran and Luke with them. Sylus followed at a slower pace, his hand resting on your lower back as you walked together.

The cookies, which were golden and abit deformed, was proof of the day’s chaotic and messy effort. As everyone gathered around to taste them, the twins’ laughter rang out, filling the room with warmth. Sylus took a bite and nodded approvingly. “Not bad,” he admitted, earning cheers from the twins.

As the evening wore on and the mess was slowly cleaned, you couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of contentment. And as Sylus wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close for a brief but tender kiss, you knew he felt the same. The cookies will definitely not be taken to the holiday party, maybe you would stop by the store to buy some.

[suksatoru]

008. CARNATIONS

Endeavor's privilege of ever stepping foot in the same room as Touya had been rightfully revoked for the next four months. And after that time was up, Touya's state would be reevaluated to determine if Endeavor would ever be allowed to see or speak to him again.

The weeks after the incident consisted of multiple surgeries. His burns, thankfully, were not as bad as they had once been.

You're not sitting in your usual spot. You're sitting on Touya's bed today—criss crossed as he sat right beside you. A chilling breeze blew through the room, sending the curtains fluttering as you shiver. You reach up and pull the window close, locking it.

Right now, you're teaching Touya how to make paper snowflakes. There was glitter, markers, and stray scraps of paper everywhere. Touya's eyes are narrowed in concentration as he watched you angle your scissors, your gentle tone giving him step by step instructions on how to cut out the necessary shapes and folds

"Okay...we overlap and cut the triangle in the corner over here, Touya." You mumble, tongue poked out just the slightest bit in concentration as you cut with every ounce of attention and care you could give. Touya's eyes flickered between his sheet of paper and back to yours, his hands near trembling as he struggled to create the same cuts in the paper you made with ease.

After an agonizing ten minutes, you're unfolding your paper to reveal a pretty snowflake. Touya watches the way your eyes gleam with pride as you hold it up for him. It was elegant with clean cuts on each corner, obviously made by someone who knew what they were doing. Hesitantly, Touya unfolds his own paper before staring down at the monstrosity in his lap blankly

"This is the ugliest fucking thing I've ever laid eyes on, Y/n." Touya mumbles dryly, holding up his snowflake with so much distaste in his expression that you can't even hold back your laugh

Touya catches the smile tugging at your lips, and he can't even be mad. He can't blame you for his snowflake turning out so messed up. Every time you were voicing the directions for him, he was too busy looking at your face instead of paying attention to his snowflake. But it's not his fault! You were so engrossed in cutting, and he had the perfect opportunity to stare at you as openly and shamelessly as he wanted to without you noticing.

"Touya, I'm not quite sure what to say. I mean—it's very...unique!" You voice, trying to contain your smile as you smooth out the crinkled edges of his paper

"Yeah, yeah..." He mumbles, staring at you quietly as you try to fix his snowflake—if you could even call it one. He's snapped out of his trance when you place your hand over his and grab the scissors, guiding his movements to make minor incisions into the paper

"We can cut these parts off to fix the shape..." You whisper, concentration lining every single one of your features as you snip away

The day Touya allowed you to physically hold him for the first time was when the invisible boundary between the two of you had been erased. He lets you touch him now—hold him and comfort him when some nights are harder than others.

Your hand is a lot smaller than his. He could cup the entirety of it in his palm alone if he wanted to. Your slender fingers curl around his rougher and larger ones along with the scissors, and you feel soft against his skin.

You take your warmth with you when you pull your hand away, excitedly waiting for Touya to unfold the new snowflake as you smile. He unfolds it with his own grin, which widens a bit when he sees the finished product.

It was a little wonky, and maybe some edges were torn from Touya's fingertips pressing into them too hard—but the two of you had made it together, so it was perfect in Touya's eyes.

"Let's tape them onto the window!" You chirp, quickly hopping off of the bed as Touya follows behind you. You quickly tear a piece of tape off and hand it to Touya. He tapes his snowflake high on the window. The snow outside the hospital fell softly. There were strong gusts of wind that carried the falling snowflakes and had them dancing and swirling through the air

Touya watched you stand on your tippy toes—trying to get your snowflake as high as his. Carefully, he grabs your wrist and uses his other hand to pry the snowflake out of your grip before he grabs the tape and secures it right beside his on the window

You blink a bit in surprise when he does this, before smiling softly to yourself as he carefully taped it

After they're hung, the two of you step back to admire your work. There's hundred of snowflakes littering the window on the other side of the glass. You and Touya's much larger snowflakes fit like puzzle pieces amongst the mass of the much smaller ones

"I think we did an excellent job, Touya!" You grin, tucking your hand into a fist as you rest your chin on it. Touya merely hums in response, watching your eyes shine with satisfaction before you turn around, hands moving to rest on your hips.

"All right...now it's clean up time." You pout, eyes raking over all of the arts and crafts scaling the room as Touya nods with a grunt, already beginning to pick up the scraps of paper that were on his bed

You both work in peaceful silence, working efficiently and maneuvering around each other easily as you clean. How the two of you managed to make such a mess in just barely over an hour is beyond you. But cleaning up with Touya is calming. The whole feeling is simply domestic—and you feel silly trying to imagine you and Touya in a different environment besides the hospital

Maybe...maybe he'd enjoy doing little crafts and activities like this in your living room with you. You quickly shake away the thought, embarrassed with yourself as you sneak a quick glance towards Touya—who was screwing the lid back onto a small bottle of glue that laid on his side table

You sigh quietly enough so he doesn't hear, mentally scolding yourself for allowing your feelings to peak through once again. Your heart wasn't your priority, Touya's heart was. It didn't matter what you wanted, what he needed was more important.

Once you toss the remaining scraps into the dust bin, you see Touya already sitting on the edge of his bed idly. His long legs are stretched out in front of him comfortably as he tilts his head at you, a hint of curiosity in his eyes

"What'cha thinking about?"

Touya was extremely attentive. Most patients struggled to pick up on small cues or even notice the little things. They were usually up in their own world and rarely ever focused on the people around them

Touya was the exact opposite. He managed to catch every shift in your expression and pinpoint the exact moment your mood changes. Which unfortunately, was not a good thing for you. You had a pretty bad poker face—that was something Touya had learned pretty quickly.

"Oh! Uh—I was thinking that maybe we could, uh, play a board game?"

Touya smirks a bit when you fumble with your words. He nods with a hum, knowing well you were lying but deciding he'd let you get away with it this time

You send him a flustered nod, quickly exiting the room and clicking the door close a little too fast, leaving Touya alone with his thoughts.

You take a steadying breath as you board the elevator, pressing the first floor button as you tap your foot against the tiled floor. You allow your back to rest against the wall as you squeeze your eyes shut, letting out a groan of embarrassment.

Exiting the elevator with a pout and eyes glued to the floor, you don't even notice your supervisor scrambling towards you with a frantic look in her eyes as she desperately tries to warn you. Unfortunately, you don't hear her until it's too late—the Todorokis reach you before she does

"Y/n," Shoto calls out to you, a tinge of relief in his tone at the sight of you as you whip around to meet his voice in surprise

Beside Shoto stood Natsuo, Fuyumi, and Rei Todoroki. You freeze in place, slowly meeting their curious gazes with parted lips

This was very unexpected. You're at a loss of words for a moment as you let their presence solidify in your mind—the gears shifting in your head when you see the scars carved onto each one of their faces

Rei watched you with round and attentive eyes, and you finally swallow the lump in your throat as you approach the family

"I am so sorry—I—wow."

Rei smiles kindly at you, but Fuyumi is the one to step forward and speak up

"Hello Y/n, I'm Fuyumi—Shoto's older sister! I'm sure he's told you about us, right?" She questions with a nervous laugh, sending Shoto a weary glance as the teenage boy stares back blankly, not catching on

You smile at Shoto's obliviousness, nodding your head quickly. Fuyumi smiles before they all bow in greeting the same way Shoto did whenever he'd meet you—you should've known the rest of the family would be just as traditional as him, and you quickly bow in respect to match their greeting before gesturing your head towards the hall

"I'm guessing you're all here to discuss something important. Let's go to my office, please."

Your office is cozy. Various plants are scattered all over and lamps hang low from the ceiling, casting the small room in a warm glow—the atmosphere was welcoming and seemed to put everyone at ease the moment they stepped in. It was a much welcomed change compared to the harsh white lights in the hospital's waiting area.

"We want to start off by apologizing for my father's actions. He was being stupid. Again. We've all spoken to him about what happened, and he hoped we would tell you he is truly sorry." Shoto starts, his voice heavy with truth and guilt. Rei watched you intently as her youngest son spoke, wanting to see your reaction.

"I understand, Shoto. Thank you." You reply softly as Shoto glances towards his siblings and mother before leaning back onto the couch. It's Natsuo who speaks up next.

"I know we haven't spoken in person before, Y/n. But I just...I wanted to thank you. Shoto's told me all you've done for my brother—Touya's always been stubborn and hard to understand. I didn't have much faith in a full recovery for him, especially with the shit our father pulls. But—" Natsuo's voice trembles as he suddenly cuts himself off, dropping his head in his hands as he lets out a shuddering breath

Fuyumi places a hand on her brother's back and rubs it in an attempt to comfort him before taking a deep breath

"Touya is our brother. We need to help him. And...it's been a while since he's been admitted into this program. And we've talked it over with your boss and the other doctors after looking over the contract we signed..." She trails off, suddenly at a loss for words as you nod your head slowly, encouraging her to continue.

"Touya's allowed to have monitored visits out of the hospital if it means it'll improve his condition...Our dad moved out so he won't be a problem at all, Y/n! I mean, the contract said if you gave us the green light telling us Touya was stable enough then there was a possibility...But we won't do anything unless you think it's okay! We just...want him home for the holidays. New Years is almost here, and it's a time for new beginnings. What better way to start it than with Touya-nii?"

Touya is bored.

You were supposed to be getting his board game, yet you've been gone for nearly half an hour. He's not worried, merely annoyed with the fact that you were probably whisked away to partake in some side task

The remote plugged into the side of his bed was for emergencies only. But right now, it was practically singing his name. Touya's finger hovers over the red button, and with a silent apology—he presses it about a dozen times before hanging it back onto the side of his bed

He lies down, folding his arms behind his head with a sly grin as he taps his foot against the edge of his bed, already looking forward to your inevitable return.

The silence after Fuyumi's words stretched for only a few moments before Touya's buzzer rang like hell—blaring loudly as everyone in the room flinched from the sound.

You wince, desperately trying to mute it as your hands miss the power off button four times from pure nerves

"Touya..." You whisper, pulling yourself out of your seat

"I'm so sorry, I need to go see him—can we please reschedule for all of us to meet again? Maybe sometime tomorrow?" You wince, bowing your head in shame at your sudden departure as Rei finally speaks

"That's ok. You can just call and let us know of your decision. We told you everything we needed to." She says, slowly standing up as your heart rate picks up

This woman was Touya's mother. That fact makes you look at her differently.

"Of course—I'll get back to you all as soon as I can. Oh! Hold on!" You say, moving to the side of your desk and grabbing the small bowl that laid on the corner

"Candy?"

None of them can refuse your kind smile. They all pick one out before filing out of your office, bidding you goodbye. Shoto sends you one last lingering look over his shoulder before he quietly closes the door behind him

After quite literally collapsing against the wall, you take a deep breath in an attempt to collect yourself and make sense of what had just happened

They want Touya to go home for the holidays. You were suddenly glad you didn't have to give them a response right now, because you couldn't. Not without talking to Touya first, at least. You were still unsure on how he felt about his mother or siblings, especially Shoto. It was territory you hadn't ventured into with Touya yet, and the fact that you had to do it now made your insides squeeze with anxiety

The walk back to his room was not a pleasant one.

Touya knows something is wrong when he catches sight of the look on your face. That and the fact that you had returned without his board game.

"What's wrong?"

His frown only deepens when he's met with silence, and you slowly approach his bed before sitting on your chair beside him. Your fingers trace patterns on your thigh as your brows furrow, eyes in deep thought.

You finally turn to look at him. He stares back silently, unblinking. It was like he refused to blink at all—afraid he'd miss something in your expression that would explain what had you all quiet like this.

"Touya...how do you feel about Shoto?"

He goes rigid beside you in an instant, and you almost wince at the way his eyes ice over. He doesn't respond. His eyes just bore into yours as he tries to figure out where this conversation was going.

"Fuyumi and Natsuo, too. And...your mother."

His eyes are as hard as ice now. It reminds you of how he looked at you when you'd first met him—feelings and emotions swimming under the frozen layer that caged them as they thrashed against the solid ice in a desperate attempt to break free.

His gaze slowly narrows, and you finally realize how hard he was gripping the sheets beneath him when you look down and see his knuckles had turned a ghostly white.

"Is that why you were gone so long? Were you talking with them?"

He spits the words out before he can stop himself, and they come out so much meaner than he wanted them too. His shoulders slump in defeat as the tension in his brows disperses the slightest bit, all before he lets out a sigh.

"How do I feel about them...how do you think I feel about them?"

"I think you love them."

He scoffs at the nerve you have. And the fact that you're right.

He finally looks away from you, glaring at the ground instead of you because you don't deserve his attitude.

"Course I fucking do. Doesn't mean I want to see them. Not now, not ever." He mumbled quietly. He was lying. Both of you knew it.

Shoto. Mom. Natsuo. Fuyumi. Just thinking of them made his head hurt. Made his heart hurt.

You can sense the unease in Touya's muscles as he bit the inside of his cheek, and you realize he's trying not to cry when he squeezes his eyes shut in frustration with himself.

"Let's end the night here, Touya. Lay in bed and just...think about it. This isn't easy—not the slightest bit. I want to give you some alone time so you can really figure out how you feel, okay?" You say softly, gently pushing on his shoulders to lay him down

He gives you no verbal response, just nodding his head at your words as his head hits the pillow.

He lays stiffly, watching as you pack your bag as you routinely do before you leave. He's slowly building the courage to speak what's on his mind...

"Are they all okay? After..."

Your eyes soften when you understand what he's asking, slowly approaching his bed as you try and find the right words. All of them would be scarred for life after Touya's attack. Mentally, and physically.

"Everyone was affected deeply by the war. But your family misses you, Touya. What happened in the past can never be erased or forgotten, but we can do our best to make up for our mistakes."

He's quiet again. He's deep in thought for a while before he slowly nods

"I'll think about what you said."

You nod softly, turning off his lamp. Touya looks like a kicked down puppy, his eyes tired and sad and he looks like he could take a nap that lasted for a century.

You can't stop yourself from leaning down and pressing a soft, lingering kiss onto his forehead.

Touya's not stupid. He knows doctors aren't this gentle and loving with their patients. You know this too. His gaze speaks a million emotions as he stares at you with wide eyes

Your fighting the urge to climb into the hospital bed with Touya to simply hold him. Touya slowly reaches out for your hand, his scarred lips brushing against your knuckles as he whispers goodnight into your hand, pressing a soft kiss onto your skin.

CARNATIONS MASTERLIST.

a/n; hi babiesss :3 this chapter was much needed after the last few. also, comment if u think touya would like to meet y/n's cats! (she's a cat lady in case u couldn't tell) also this girl is gonna get her ass FIRED is she keeps this up lmaoo & rememberrrr i love u all!! i'm having so much fun with carnations and i'm glad you all are too :)

tags! (tysm for all the support you sweet souls 🥺🩷🩷🩷)

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@bitch-spaghetti-o

[ladymercysletters]

NSFW Alphabet - Cregan Stark

Word Count: 2,864

A/N: I have no words, other than I now have many thoughts about sex on furs. NSFW 18+ only!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

As much as he seemed like a solid silent brute when you first met him, upon your marriage bed Cregan was soft with you. Easing you through your maidenhead and doting on you afterwards. He removed the stained sheets from beneath you with ease before returning with wine for you. He cares for you the same every time you finish. Soft touches and demands to the maids that they bring in wine and some food after, tucking you up into the furs from the end of your bed and drifting off to sleep with you.

B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Cregan often trained with his shirt off. Partly to harden his body to the cold of the north, but also to intimidate his opponents. When he notices you watching him train from one of the wooden walkways he can’t help but put on a show. Roaring as his sword comes down on the shield, splintering it in two; he makes sure to roll his shoulders when his back is turned from you, flexing the muscles that show there. He is most proud of his strength and he loves that you watch him, satisfied that he can protect you from anything and anyone.

When it comes to your body he is in love with every part of it. Your soft hair that catches the snowflakes when they fall, to your cheeks that glow with warmth when you’re huddled up to the fire in the great hall. But he’s most enamoured with your legs. He loves how strong they are from horse riding. It’s the hidden aspect as well; he knows they’re there under all those layers and folds of your dresses. He enjoys helping you out of your clothes in the evening, trailing a hand slowly up your legs, feeling how they grow warmer as they get to your centre. And then the lovely treat between them, only for him to enjoy, hidden.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) - Winter is coming and so is he!

Cregan loves to cum inside you. This is well documented (thank you to every fanfic writer here!) There has barely been a time where Cregan has wasted a drop outside of your body. His favourite place is where he can breed you; the thought of his seed filling you completely and seeing you all round and lovely with his child sends a jolt of something through his spine every time he thinks of it. He loves to see you splayed out for him, your white shift not even fully removed in the haste of your love making, watching from above as your breasts move in time with his thrusts, your face flushing and soft moans pushing from your lips has him doubling over you to make sure he doesn’t spill a drop.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Cregan doesn’t really have any dirty secrets. There’s nothing he hides from you and to be honest, nothing he particularly finds shameful enough to keep a secret. There is nothing shameful in loving ones wife isn’t there? That being said, a blush forms just at the tops of Cregans cheekbones when he thinks of how his hips stutter and the groans roll from his tongue when you rake your nails down his back. That little spot right at the base of his spine, just as the skin of his buttocks gets a bit more sensitive. Right there, if your nails trail down to that spot his hips will stutter and twitch between your thighs.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Cregan has a bit of experience before your marriage, but not as much as most men perhaps. He first lay with a woman when he visited an elder cousin south of Winterfell who took him to their silk streets; and he’s had his share of women when away in battle. Those women always seemed to know where there were plenty of men, and when you think you may die there’s no harm in going out with a bang.

F = Favourite position (this goes without saying)

Mating press. Face down ass up. Any way he can bend you and bed you he will. He especially loves these two positions as he can get so deep inside you; flipping you over or propping your ankles over his broad shoulders, both are excellent ways to view his wife in his eyes. If he had to choose, mating press would be his favourite. He once got caught up in the heat of the moment and had to steady himself as he thrust into you. It just so happens that he steadied himself by placing his hand on your abdomen. The shock of feeling the movement of his thick cock inside you sent a bolt straight down his spine. He didn’t last long after that.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Despite Cregan’s initial intentions in looking for a wife, you married for love. He had never met a woman as witty as you. With every sly jab from one of his men at your being from the south, you batted back with a comment of your own – leaving many stumped in response. Cregan loved your sharp tongue and teasing grin as you bounded past him on your horse. When you were wed this did not stop. Your laughter translated to more heated moments, when he has you pressed against a wall and you would tease him for being so eager for you; or when you shared the warm springs and giggled together at the thought of someone finding you in a compromising position.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He’s a hairy man. But not hairy like a bear, hairy like a wolf – an inverted triangle covering his chest, with a long dark trail leading directly over his navel and into his breeches. His back isn’t hairy at all, much to your surprise, but his forearms and legs display a similar coating of dark brown hair.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Cregan can be incredibly romantic. His lack of any close family and betrayal by some has left him without really love or intimacy for most of his life. But despite this, he isn’t a cold man. Many a night has been spent sprawled out on thick furs in front of one of the great fires; Cregans body covering yours as he makes love to you. He holds you tenderly afterwards, looking down on your peaceful face he draws a strand of hair away from your face, turning it in his fingers – amazed by the softness. He’s amazed by the softness of all of you. Amazed that you’re his.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He’s got himself off more times than he’s ever prepared to count, lonely nights in the castle or on the road necessitating this. When you wed this wasn’t something he thought he would need to think much of anymore. But during one feast, when you’d both had your fair share of wine, your hand had wandered to his breeches. First a hand on his knee, then higher. Then, just as he took a swig from his cup, over the thin material of his best trousers. Your small hand wriggled inside his trousers gripping him tightly. Cregan looked over at you and thought of how casual you looked, not a mark on your face would suggest where your hand was at that moment. Even as you carried a small conversation with a maid clearing some plates and replacing your wine, your hand continued its smooth movements up and down his growing cock.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

BREEDING KINK! BREEDING KINK!

Once the immediate delight in coupling with you has faded the first thing on his mind when sharing abed with you was what your children would look like. How good of a mother you would be and how you would look cradling his babe. How you would look growing his babe – all round and waddling through the halls. Curled up in the furs that lay over your bed. He’d make sure to hunt the finest fur he could for your first born, make sure you’d both be safe and warm. As soon as he got that thought into his head it was the only thing on his mind every time you fucked. He’d whisper the filthiest things in your ear about how good you’d look swollen with his child – evidence of you were his, his love.

L = Location (favourite places to do the do)

Hi favourite place to have you will always be his bed, your shared bed. He loves that you always sleep together – and everyone knows you do. It’s ones of the worst kept secrets in Winterfell that the lord and lady haven’t used their separate bedrooms since they wed. And if Cregan gets his way, you never will.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

He can keep quite a good lid on his urges in general. He knows his duty and he never shirks from it; but when you glide past him in the hall to get to your ladies in waiting, when he’s got his mean around him discussing the days business, his eyes flicker up and over to you – and he can see how the bodice of your dress is just a bit tighter than usual, or you’re wearing a lighter fabric over your arms that is practically sheer. Little things like that, that show just a touch more flesh or expose the delicate softness of your neck. Those things just remind him how only he has seen you bare, and it makes him want it again.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He’s seen some things in brothels he’d rather not have seen. Some men using bodily fluids Cregan would never think erotic and doing things to women that made his stomach turn. He hated even thinking about those things, especially when he was with you.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He would live between your thighs if you would let him. We’ve discussed that he is a thigh man but by the gods; having both of your legs over his shoulders, stroking up and down the fat of your thighs as he buries his face in your cunt. He’s so skilled with his tongue. As much as you may expect him to be rough and a bit clumsy, he isn’t with his face. He nudges you open with his nose first before starting off with gentle licks into your core. If/ when he does use his fingers it only when he’s got you absolutely soaking wet and he can feel the tremor in your thighs.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It very much depends on how you’re both feeling. Sometimes he needs to take you slow and soft; tracing his rough fingers over your soft exposed skin and kiss every inch of you. Other times, especially when you’re ovulating and decide to go and watch him train, the two of you barely make it somewhere alone before he’s got you in the air and inside you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He’s not a huge fan of quickies. For one, he doesn’t like having to perform under pressure – not that he can’t! He just likes to savour you. Even if you’re both so desperate for each other and clothes off you both still want to take as long as you like; knowing you can tease each other until you can’t take it anymore or have each other again and again if you wish. The possibilities are endless with enough time.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He’s down for most things but I don’t think he’s one to experiment off his own back. He’s more of a tried and tested kind of guy; if he knows something gets you off he’ll do it over and over. You need to be the one to take risks and suggest new things to try.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

The man is a beast, and his stamina is that of a hunting wolf. Some nights he can go three rounds, with breaks in between, each one making him more ravenous for you. Even if he just can’t go another round he still loves making you cum, just once more. Kissing up your leg before laying lazily between them as he eats you out so slowly; building your pleasure until you break like a dam one final time.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He’s not really one for toys; he’d much rather use his own body to pleasure you. That being said he’s not opposed to tying you up. He loves to watch you squirm for him. Maybe once you’re both comfortable enough and Cregan has had time to think about different ways to take you, he uses one of the ties to blindfold you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He doesn’t particularly get off on it himself; though if you’re into it and he can see how much you’re loving it, of course he’s going to tease the hell out of you until he can get you to cum again and again. He’ll tie you up to stop you touching yourself or reaching out for him and trail a gloved hand over your soft stomach. The leather cool and rough against your warm skin. Cregan loves to watch your muscles twitch and goosebumps raise on your flesh. He loves to go slow when he teases you; the way you get impatient and start begging for him makes him feral.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Cregan isn’t that loud, he’s more of a grunter. He’s a stern rough man and he doesn’t particularly want others to hear him or know what you’re getting up to. But the deep grunts and groans that slip past his lips, getting muffled by your shoulder as he doubles over you, vibrate right through to your very core.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

At your wedding he put his cloak on you, bringing you under his protection and into his family. As a symbol of your marriage and in honour of the fact that your children will carry on his line, he loves to fuck you on his cloak. He lays it out on the bed and throws your naked body onto it – both of you giggling as you know what’s coming next. Its not just about carrying on your line though, it’s the memory of having you laid out for him on there when he wears it outside. Others seeing his cloaked figure as a terrifying symbol of the power and strength of the North; but Cregan also knows that he’s had you screaming his name again and again on it, soaking your scent into the fabric of it. If he risks it he’ll sometime draw his nose closer to the inside of it and inhale deeply.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Cregan is completely in proportion to the rest of his body. His girth always surprises you and, if you’re not prepared, still stings a little. And he’s a good 7 ½ inches, if not more. He can get so nice and deep inside of you; he stretches you out gently at first, making sure you can take him before he pushes into you. If he’s in the right position you can almost feel him at your cervix; he loves to get you into positions where he can feel himself through your stomach, knowing he’s so deep inside you and can breed you so easily.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He’s very good at controlling himself. His appetite isn’t insatiable – he has duties and responsibilities, and as much as you distract him, he is perfectly capable of holding off. That being said, if you tease him too much; the neckline of your dress lowered to distraction or some particularly lingering touches and soft words, expect a long night later on.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He has the entire weight of Winterfell on his shoulders. As much as he loves to lay and talk with you after a long day, more often than not he falls asleep very quickly. You were talking to him one evening about a letter sent from your cousin in the Riverlands, only to hear soft snores from behind you.

[doitforbangchan]

Playing Favorites - L.F

Pairing: Bakery owner!Felix x Shy!Reader

Requested: by @heeseungspookie literally forever ago thanks for waiting <3

Warnings: Fem/afab reader, very light smut, touching over the clothes, kissing, cursing, and fluff. so much fluff. Set in Felix POV

WC: 4.4k

Thank you to the requester for your patience on this, i really hope you enjoy it! not proofread :)

Masterlist

The bakery was slow this morning- more so than it had been all week- but it wasn’t a problem for Felix. One of his cashiers had called out this morning and as owner of the shop he had to take over front duties as well as baking in the back, and the slow day helped him keep up. ‘S.K.Z Bake-er-y’ was his pride and joy so he needed to work to keep it running smoothly. 

Even though it was more work for him Felix really didn’t mind having to man the front. It meant being able to see his favorite customer. As his watch showed it was 9:30am on the dot he heard the little bell above the door make a little jingle as it opened. 

‘Right on time.’ He thought to himself, not bothering to conceal his smile. Felix looked up from the coffee machine to see you coming through the entrance.

 Felix had met you about two years ago right after opening this bakery. He could remember the day you came in. 

It was winter and the snow was coming down heavily, covering everything in sight in a blanket of white. The bakery had only been open for about a week and was still unknown so there weren't any customers (nevermind the fact it was storming) and he was beginning to give up hope of having any customers that day- then the door jingled. The most beautiful woman he had ever seen entered his bakery. 

You were wrapped in a thick pink scarf that almost engulfed your whole upper body and there were small snowflakes stuck in your hair. He watched as you dusted yourself off and wiped your feet on the mat, then you looked up and made eye contact with him. Felix felt his face blush a deep red at having been caught staring and he quickly looked away and grabbed a coffee cup, then pretending to wipe it down as if it were dirty. He nearly jumped out of his skin when the little bell on the counter was rung. 

“Umm, hello.” You called out softly. He spun back around to face you, still too stunned by your beauty to say anything. You nervously looked in the cases at all the goods then back at him. “Do you, uh, have any croissants?” 

Felix shook out of his stupor, blinking rapidly for a second then giving you a shy grin. “Uh yeah. I’ve got plain butter, chocolate, vanilla creme and raspberry jam.” 

“Can I please get a raspberry one? And a hot chocolate please?” You took out your wallet and handed him a $10 bill. He tried to give you back your change but you shook your head. “No, you keep it.”

“Thank you. That is very kind of you.” He hid his blush by turning around again and quickly assembling your drink and pastry, adding a brownie to the tray as well. “Here you go, I hope you like it.” He smiled and set the goods down in front of you. 

“Oh I didn’t order the brownie..” You went to give it back to him but he put his hands up, not accepting it back. 

“It’s on the house.” He gave you a wink, internally cringing until he saw how your eyes lit up. 

There you were, wrapped up in that same oversized pink scarf and shaking the leaves off your clothes.Your eyes met his as you walked closer to the counter and you offered him a shy smile that made his heart flutter. 

“Good morning, Felix. How are you today?” You asked in a chipper voice. 

“Morning, sunshine. I’m doing pretty good, running the shop alone today. How about you? Want your usual?” and by ‘usual’ he meant a brownie and a hot chocolate. 

You nodded, “Yes please! And can you throw a maple donut please?” 

“Ooooo feeling adventurous today, huh?” He teased, placing both treats in a little paper bag and sticking a lid on your cocoa.

You playful flipped your hair over your shoulder with a giggle, “You know it.” You handed him cash and he once again only charged you for the drink and donut. “Felix, you can’t keep giving me freebies! You’re running a business!” 

“Sorry, it’s actually company policy that my favorite customer gets free brownies.” He shrugged, “If you have a complaint you’ll have to take it up with our corporate office.” 

“Felix.. Am I really your favorite customer?” 

‘Shit.’ He thought. He didn’t mean to slip up like that. 

“Uhh, I- I mean..” The boy stuttered, unsure of how to save himself. But luckily he didn’t need to. 

“Because you’re my favorite baker.” 

Felix looked at you and saw how timid you now appeared, hiding your face in your scarf after your revelation. 

“Your favorite baker.. I like how that sounds.” He grinned, his nose wrinkling as he began to giggle. He just thought you looked so adorable at the way you hid your face even further, his words clearly having an effect on you. “Please don’t hide from me! I didn’t mean to embarrass you, sunshine.” 

You slowly lifted your head out of your knitted garment, “M’ not embarrassed.” He gave you a look that said he didn’t believe you. “Ok fine I am a little bit, but I can’t help it. I don’t know how to flirt.” 

Now that had him taken aback. You were flirting with him? Since when did you do that? Usually he was the one who’s been flirting with you for two years. He realized he must have been standing there with his mouth gaping for too long because he saw the crestfallen look on your face. 

“Shit, I didn’t mean to make things weird. I’ll just go now.” You grabbed your goods and went to turn and leave but suddenly his hand shot out before he could even think about it. 

“Wait, Y/n don’t go!” He had leaped halfway across the counter to grab your forearm gently before you could walk away. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything, you just took me off guard. I didn’t expect you to be.. Flirty with me.” 

“Really? I’ve been doing it with you for two whole years, Felix.” You shuffled on your feet, still letting him hold onto your arm. 

Felix felt speechless again, but at least this time he could feel the massive smile overtake his mouth instead of leaving it open like an idiot. The cognitive part of his brain told him that he had to say something.“That’s insane..” He began, “Because I’ve been flirting with you for just as long.”

He watched as you turned your head away so he couldn’t see the way your face heated up and the way you bit your lip. “You don’t have to lie to make me feel better, Felix.” 

“No really!” The blonde protested loudly, then realized his shouting might freak you out more so he cleared his throat and lowered his tone, unintentionally using his deep voice, “ I mean, I would never lie to you. I’ve been into you since the second you walked into this place.” 

Felix unfortunately missed how his deep timber affected you, how your eyes widened and your fingers twitched, due to the door opening and the signature jingling of the bell signaling another customer. 

“Hi, welcome in! I will be right with you!” He called out to the new group that had entered, then quickly looked back to you, “If you don’t believe me then let me prove it to you. Here,” He grabbed a piece of receipt paper and scribbled down his number messily. “Is my number. I would love to take you on a date… I mean only if you want to.” 

You nodded your head and tentatively grabbed the slip of paper from his outstretched hand, “I do want too. I’ll uh, text you.” 

Felix could tell you were feeling nervous, especially now that there was a line of people behind you watching your interaction, “I look forward to it.” He smiled at you again, waving as you scooped up your items and exited the store. The man was feeling slightly dejected by the interaction until he saw you stop at the door and turn around to look at him again with a delicate grin on your face. 

----------------------------------

Honestly, Felix did not think there was a possibility in hell that you would actually text him- let alone that very evening. He thought he had blown his chance with you after practically throwing himself at you this morning (at least, that’s what his anxiety told him had happened) so when he was alerted that he had a message from an unknown number he couldn’t suppress the flutter of hope that swelled in his chest. 

Hi Felix its Y/n. I was wondering if you were free tonight? 

He immediately wrote you back, too excited to care about seeming desperate. 

hey! yes i am totally free! What did you have in mind? :)

He waited for a second then the three little dots that you were typing appeared. 

Well I was thinking maybe you would want to come over and watch a movie with me?  Plus i have a bottle of pink moscato thats been begging to be opened.

If you're up for it :) 

His cheeks were inflamed as he read your message. This time he could tell there was some flirtation in your words and it made his brain fuzzy. You wanted him to come over to your home and spend time with you.. There was no way he would ever pass up on that opportunity. 

Oh i’m up for it. I’m about to close up shop so I could be at yours in about half an hour?

Works for me 

Heres my address. I’ll see you soon :)

Felix hugged his phone to his chest dreamily then remembered he needed to finish cleaning up if he was going to make it to yours on time. He pocketed his phone and resumed the closing duties, now with a little more pep in his step. 

Knock 

Knock 

Knock 

The back of his hand wrapped on your door, the other was holding a large pink to-go box full of the unsold pasties of the day. He fidgeted with the hem of his jacket as he heard a soft ‘coming’ from further into your home. 

After a minute or so the door slowly opened to reveal you with a big grin on your face. His eyes swept over you momentarily, taking in your bare face and wet hair. He noted you must have just taken a shower. You were also dressed in an oversized light blue sweater and a pair of gray leggings. He had never seen you look so beautiful before. 

“Hi.” You said softly then moved to the side to allow him entry. “Come on in.” 

“Hello sunshine, I brought some donuts. There's a few maple ones in here too.” He entered your apartment and you took the box from him excitedly. 

“Thank you! Those are some of my favorites!” You closed the door and led him inside. 

Felix let his gaze wander around your home, taking in all the pictures on the walls of you and friends, and the many fluffy blankets that littered your couch. If your living room was this cozy he could only imagine what your bedroom looked like. 

“Sorry,” Your voice took him out of his thoughts, “I know it’s not much.” 

He shook his head, “No your place is great! Very cozy feeling.” 

You hummed, motioning for him to follow you. “You can set your coat down wherever.” You placed the box of goodies on your coffee table and plopped down on the couch, patting the spot next to you. The blonde boy shrugged off his jacket and hung it on the back of a chair then softly took a seat down next to you. You grabbed the remote and turned on the tv. “What kind of movie do you want to watch?” 

“Hmmm, maybe a romcom?” He suggested. You nodded and scrolled through the romcom section on netflix. Eventually you guys decided on ‘She’s the Man’. 

Felix opened the box he brought and pulled out a chocolate donut, taking a small bite. You had already set out the bottle of wine and two glasses. You grabbed the bottle and motioned for him in question, to which he nodded in response. You poured two glasses then handed one to him. 

“I hope you like moscato. It’s kinda all I had.” You said sheepishly, sipping on your drink. 

Felix sipped the drink as well, his palette being flooded with fruity notes. “Mm, it’s sweet.” 

The both of you sat next to each other while the movie played on your screen, every so often making commentary about the characters and sharing a laugh. It was a film you had both already seen a million times so neither of you minded talking through it. 

 About halfway through he noticed you had moved ever so slightly closer to him and now your shoulders were touching. You were so close he could smell the scent of your shampoo, the rich honey flooding his senses and making his head spin. He didn’t know if he should get closer to you or move away so he ended up just sinking further into the cushions instead, but you seemed to take that as an invitation to curl up even closer to him.

Now being able to feel the heat radiating off of your body it made him flush even deeper, both his body and something else beginning to stiffen. 

‘Oh no, please not now!’ He mentally begged, clenching his fists and attempting to control his breathing, willing the growing hard on to go down. 

“and when I close my eyes, I see you for who you truly are, which is UUUG-LAY.” You quoted along with the tv, laughing loudly. Felix let out a strained chuckle, trying to appear calm, cool and collected. Personally, he thought he was doing a great job at remaining inconspicuous, but evidently by the way you leaned off of him and turned around to look at him with a crestfallen look on your face said otherwise. “Felix..is something the matter?” 

“W-what?” He stuttered then cleared his throat, “Uh, nope, nothing’s the matter.” 

‘Play it cool. Play it cool. Play it COOL’ 

“It’s just that,” You twiddled with your hair and looked away from him, “ You’re so stiff and you really don’t seem too interested. I’m worried that.. You’re starting to regret asking me out.” 

“No!” He burst out loudly, then slapped a quick hand over his mouth. He blinked quickly then dropped his hand, “I mean, of course I don’t regret asking you out! I’ve been dreaming of being like this with you since I met you!” 

“Then what is wrong? Is it the movie? Do you not like the wine?” You hesitated for a moment, “Am I.. Not attractive to you?”

Now it was him who looked at you wounded, as if your words had physically marred him. “You can’t be serious.” but the disheartened downcast of your eyes told him you were. Felix reached out and cupped your cheeks with both hands, tilting your head up to look at him. “Y/n, Sunshine, please look at me.” You slowly did as he asked and he could see the wetness that was welling up on your lash line. “You have absolutely no idea how attracted to you I am.”

“Felix..” You whispered. “You don’t have to lie to make me feel better. I know that I’m not entirely the picture of sexiness right now in my pjs.” 

Felix knew now was the time to be completely honest with you- to lay it all on the line to make you believe him. 

“Sunshine, I would never lie to you. I think you are the most gorgeous, attractive and sensual woman I have ever seen; pjs and all.” He gulped before he continued. “I’m sorry I seemed so disinterested and stuffy, I was just so nervous to have the girl of my dreams cuddled up so close to me I didn’t know how else to react- my body didn’t know how to react.” 

The man bit on his lip as he watched the understanding begin to settle on your features, a small ‘o’ shape taking place on your mouth. Your eyes flickered from his down to the visible tent in his pants that you somehow missed before, then back up to his. “You, you mean your..” 

“Hard as a rock because you were laying on me, yep.” He just knew his face was a deep shade of pink by now. Felix thought for sure you would call him a creep and kick him out so he went to take his hands off your face but your own quickly grabbed his and brought them back to your face. 

“Don’t.. Please keep them touching me.” You whispered, locking eyes with him intensely. “I like it when you touch me.” 

“You do?” 

You nodded slowly, “Yes. I think about it all the time.” Felix felt his breath hitch ever so slightly when one of your hands made contact with his chest. “I think about your hands on me, about the warmth of them on my skin.” 

The blonde baker could not believe the words that were coming out of your mouth. Where had the mousey shy girl gone and who was this bold woman? He didn’t know but he wanted more. More of your touch and of your confessions.

“Where do you think about them touching you?” His voice had subconsciously gone huskier and he luckily did not miss the shiver that went through you. Your reaction made him grow more brave and he trailed one hand slowly down to rest on your shoulder. “Here?” 

You shook your head, “Lower.” 

“Here?” His fingers lowered again until the backs of his fingers gently ran over the curve of your clothed breast. 

A quiet whimper escaped your throat. “Lower.” 

“Hmm,” He hummed deeply, “I think I have an idea of where you want me, sunshine.” He teased, “But I think there’s somewhere else I need to touch you first.” The freckled boy slowly leaned in towards you, giving you time to move if this wasn’t what you wanted. You surprised him again when you closed the distance hastily and crashed your mouth onto his. 

Your hands fisted his shirt, pulling him ever so closer to you and deepening the kiss. He whined into your mouth then he ran the tip of his tongue along your bottom lip, teasingly asking for entrance, which you granted immediately. 

This was easily becoming the best day of his life, especially with the way the hand that you had previously placed on his chest was slowly sliding its way down his stomach until your fingers brushed over the bulge in his pants. His instincts told him to buck up into your touch but the more civil part of his brain wanted you to explore at your own pace, giving you total control of him. 

Felix groaned loudly when your hand cupped his hard on, giving him a gentle squeeze. “Fuck, sunshine, you’re gonna be the death of me if you keep that up.” He panted against your lips. 

“Need you to touch me too, Lix.” He almost bust in his pants at the needy way you said his nickname. 

The man finally let his hand wander to the place you needed him, slowly rubbing over the fabric and feeling the wetness begin to seep through. “Oh my god you’re so wet, I can feel you through your leggings.” 

You buried your face into the crook of his neck and Felix let out a little giggle at how adorable you were when you were embarrassed. “Don’t point it out.” He felt you pout against his skin and squeeze him again. 

He used his pointer finger and middle finger to rub delicate circles over your core, being able to find your clit with ease even through the fabric. Felix felt your hips instinctually buck up into his, seeking more friction that he granted you by pressing harder. Your fingers were stroking over his length at a hurried speed now as he began to leave open mouthed kisses on your own neck, sucking on your collar bone that was exposed by your neckline sliding down. 

As ashamed as he was to admit it Felix felt like he could burst in his pants at any moment. The harsh friction of his pants on his cock shouldn’t feel so good but it does. He thought maybe because it was you who was doing it to him that he felt so fucking good. 

Felix wanted to make you feel as good as he felt- better even- so he rubbed a little faster over your bundle,then dipping his finger in between your nether lips quickly then bringing it back up to your clit. It seemed his efforts proved fruitful because your body started to tremble and he could feel your breathing pick up significantly. 

“L-Lix, I think m’ gonna..” 

“Go ahead, Sunshine. Let go fo’ me.” He purred in your ear (or that's what he intended to do but it came out more like a desperate whine). 

At his command he felt your body shake and you crashed your lips back against yours, his mouth swallowing your moans. Even through your leggings Felix could feel the way your core spasmed as you came. 

Felix greedily drank all of your sweet sounds, loving how noisy you got for him despite being muffled. In fact he loved it a little too much, because before he knew it he was rocking his crotch into you as you stroked him, falling apart under your skilled hand. His voice got high pitched and his whole body was alight with trembles. 

“Nnnngghhh, holy shiiiit” He cried against your lips, the warmth of his cum coating the inside of his pants and sticking to his skin. 

Felix pulled away from you after you had both stopped shaking from your respective orgasms. Your eyes were wild and teary with lust and he was sure he looked exactly the same way. Felix barely got even a second to catch his breath before you were on him, locking your arms around his shoulders and giving him another kiss. Though he was pleasantly surprised at the gentleness of your lips this time- he didn’t know if he would be able to take another round so soon and needed a reprieve. 

After a few seconds you pulled away from him slowly, your eyes closed and the most content look on your face. “That.. was really nice.” 

“Mhmm.” Felix lightly nuzzled his nose into your cheek, leaving a small kiss there in his wake. “It was perfect.” 

“Yeah?” You asked, seemingly getting shy again. 

“Yeah,” another kiss before he leaned back, looking into your eyes now. “My favorite, actually.” 

The sound of your giggle was the cutest sound in the world to him, there was no sweeter sound than when you laughed and he really wanted to hear it again. With quick fingers he dug them gently into your sides which prompted an immediate response; you squealed with laughter and let go of his neck, trying to pry his fingers off. “Felix! Don’t- no tickling!” But even as you protested you had that dazzling smile on your face. The one that made him fall for you in the first place. 

“I love you.” 

He didn't mean to say it- to spill the beans so suddenly on you- especially not on your first date, but his lips just let it slip. He was extremely anxious as he saw the shock on your face and you stopped laughing. 

Felix started to backtrack, “I mean, your laugh. I love your laugh, it’s so contagious.” He nervously chuckled looking away from you. 

‘Fuck, I can’t believe I screwed it all up in a second.’ 

“No, that’s not what you meant.” You quietly protested, then you surprised him again by cupping his cheek and leaning your forehead on his. “I.. Felix I love you too.” 

Even through his shock a wide smile began to overtake his mouth and suddenly he was flooded with excitement and new found vigor. Felix was inclined to believe you, as he never knew you as someone to tell a lie. 

You continued before he could, “I know it’s sudden and we haven’t spent a lot of real time together, but you have always been the sweetest man I had ever met. And you're so passionate. You care. And I think that seeing you chase your dreams and be so determined to make it work.. I couldn’t help but fall for you.” 

“Oh Sunshine. I’ve been in love with you since I laid eyes on you, since the first moment you walked into my bakery two years ago.” 

You both still had your foreheads together and with slow movements he leaned ever so slightly and laid a tentative kiss to your lips. You reciprocated instantly and went to climb further into his lap. 

As much as he loved kissing you and feeling you on him, the second that you rested your weight over his crotch he was reminded of the sticky mess he had made in his underwear only minutes prior, the cum cooling and making it extremely uncomfortable as it stuck to his skin in the worst way. 

“Sunshine,” He mumbled against your lips, “I uh, got a little problem.” 

“Hmm?” You hummed, trying to kiss him again. You pouted at him when his hands gently pried you off of him, but then you saw the cringe left on his brow. “What’s wrong?” 

“Well,” ‘Fuck this was embarresing.’ “I kinda blew my load into my pants.. And it’s starting to stick to my skin.” 

Your mouth made a small ‘o’ shape as you registered his words, then you burst into a fit of giggles that made Felix both want to swoon and also bury himself into a hole forever. 

“Lixie m’ sorry, I didn’t even think about how uncomfortable you must be.” You climbed off of him and stood up. “The bathroom is this way, I’ll grab you some sweats to wear if you want?” 

He nodded, “Yes please Sunshine.” 

“You can even shower if you want.. And if you do want I may even join you.” You offered him a wink. 

His brows raised at how bold you were becoming, pleasantly surprised once again. Before he went into the bathroom he pulled you back into him from behind, leaving a wet smooch directly on your cheek. “Thank you. I love you.” 

“I love you too, Lix.” You swatted him with a laugh, “Now go clean up. We have a movie to finish.” 

©doitforbangchan 2024

likes, comments and reblogs are encouraged! I love to hear feedback, it keeps me going :)

Permanent tags: @athforskz and @jehhskz

[paceprompting]

Need a Ride?

written for ‘snowfall’ wc: 1000 # | steddie | rated: g | cw: non archive warnings apply | tags: alternate first meeting, pre-season four, feat. steve harrington's beemer

@steddieholidaydrabbles

He was sending his van right to the dump this time. He meant it.

Stupid engine he’d had to drop all his profits on for the third time crapping out right in the middle of the road. Leaving him to hoof it back to the gas station and hope that Wayne was home from his shift to get the call.

And of course, the snow season had to start today.

Head ducked against the wind, with only his battle vest and leather jacket against the bracing cold and snowflakes that stung his cheeks and nose where it wasn’t covered by his hair. He was just glad that there were streetlights so he wasn’t veering off into nowhere in the dark.

He could barely feel his fingers in his pockets by the time he made it to the station. He was still shivering, so he wasn’t quite at the point of hypothermia, but even dialing the numbers on the pay phone was a bit of a feat in itself.

Eddie put his back to the wind as the phone rang. And rang. Eventually, it rang out.

Wayne must have picked up a double shift. Not unusual, especially this time of year. Honestly, Eddie should have guessed that in the first place and called the plant instead of the trailer.

And he didn’t have enough change for another call. Guess he shouldn’t have stopped to buy that pack of cigarettes. That he’d already opened and smoked one from before his shitty van broke down.

“Fuck,” Eddie hissed, smacking the receiver into the hook.

He could trudge back to the van and settle in for the night. But without heat, he’d be just as well off trying to walk home in the wind and snow. And he wasn’t going to be getting sympathy with how he was dressed for spare change, much less did he have anything to deal to someone who would give him the time of day.

If he didn’t figure this out quick, he was going to get arrested for loitering.

Although…

“Munson?”

He perked up despite himself, recognizing the voice. Even if it wasn’t exactly someone he was elated to have run into at a pretty low point in his day.

Standing there under cover from the wind, the snow fell gently onto Steve Harrington. Of course it did. Settled on his hair and his jacket like powdered sugar on an overly-sweet dessert.

He wasn’t getting gas, pulled over and stood with the driver’s door open. One hand braced on the door and the other on the hood of his car, Steve stared curiously at Eddie. He was actually dressed for the weather, a puffy white and pale blue-striped monstrosity with fur around the hood.

Steve glanced at the rest of the gas station, noticing that his was the only car around.

“What are you doing here?”

Eddie stayed beside the payphone, in the wind and snow, but the farthest he could be from Steve. He’d dealt to him a few times, just weed, really, and only knew Steve by reputation. Last he’d heard, Steve had just dumped his two lackeys, Tommy and Carol and had slung ice cream at the Starcourt Mall until it burst into flames.

Why Harrington could care about him, Eddie had no idea.

“Van broke down,” he answered shortly, shoving his hands in his pockets even though the leather was nearly as cold as the wind. He gave a strained smile. “Stuck here.”

“Phone busted?”

“Out of money.” Eddie cocked his head, feeling bold. “Got fifty cents?”

It’d be enough for another call to the trailer and one to Wayne’s work for safety.

Steve raised both brows, and Eddie blanched. He and Steve were practically strangers, and he’d immediately hit Steve up for money. Even if he was known as the rich kid with parties every week because his parents were never home—Eddie was so far off his radar, he might as well have been gum under his shoe.

“I could give you a ride,” Steve said instead. “Forest Hills, right?”

A ride in the Steve Harrington’s Beemer. Sleek and maroon and drool-worthy.

The girls at school that would have literally slit his throat to be in Eddie’s place.

Eddie’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head, but he managed to find words and point back at the payphone with his thumb.

“I really just need to call my uncle. He’ll come get me.”

Steve leveled a gaze at him. “And you’ll spend an hour in the snow waiting. I’m not going to leave you out here to freeze.”

Eddie sucked his teeth, staring Steve down. He hated to give Steve the point of being right, but he was starting to lose feeling in his hands and his cheeks were stinging from the wind across his face.

He sighed, wetting his bottom lip. Or tried to, since the wet from his tongue only made his face freeze more.

“Fine,” he said, ducking his head as he trudged toward the Beemer. He didn’t dare stop to double-check with Steve, wincing as he pulled his hand from his pocket to open the door and slide inside.

The inside was immediately ten times warmer, blasting from the fans and Eddie nearly moaned. Until Steve’s door slammed closed and suddenly Eddie was inside Steve Harrington’s car. With Steve Harrington.

“You good, Munson?”

He was staring, he realized only after Steve spoke. If Steve wasn’t apprehensive about letting the school freak into his car, he was sure to be when Eddie acted as though he’d been raised far from civilization.

He forced a hard swallow. “Just surprised this isn’t all some trick. My type doesn’t exactly mesh with your type.”

Steve gave this chuckle, like an inside joke only he had any idea of.

“Right,” he said softly, and Eddie definitely felt as though he was way out of the loop on a new kind of Steve Harrington.

A kind he had a single car ride to figure out.

Part Two

[odoraful]

𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐄𝐘𝐄

it was one of the few days zayne had returned home earlier than sunset. he opened the door to the apartment to find you painting your nails. after a shower and some short pleading on your part, he was seated in front of you, hands laid out on the table for you to do his nails.

content: zayne x fem!reader; established relationship; small banter! ; greyson apperance; ~1k words a/n: i've been dipping in and out of writing, so i thought i'd make something short to get me back into practice :)

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“Hand tremors aren’t good for dexterity, you know,” Zayne quipped, gazing at your expression as you applied the polish.

You looked up at him through your lashes and he smirked at the flat stare you gave him. With a slight tilt of his head, he enjoyed how animated your reactions were to his remarks. Towel-dried hair brushed past his brows, framing his discerning hazel eyes. Did he always need to be this handsome while poking fun at you? Your hands weren’t shaky before, but they certainly felt so now.

“Oh hush.”

Putting the brush back in the bottle to collect more polish, you reset your focus.

“Just ‘cause you’re a surgeon, doesn’t mean you’d make a good nail artist,” you retorted, bringing your eyes back to your work.

You were currently on the last nail, painting it a navy blue to match the others you already finished. Zayne’s nails were well kept and trimmed short, making for a perfect canvas for you. Whilst it was rare for surgeons to wear polish, he assured that it wouldn’t be an issue so long as it did not chip. He wanted you to do it for him, anyway. Having your undivided attention on him was a perfect way to unwind after a long day at the hospital.

“And what other qualifiers need to be met besides a still hand?” he asked, teasing giving way to curiousity.

You finished up the last nail with a few glides of the brush. “An eye for aesthetics,” you declared, moving the blue nail polish aside and selecting two more colours among your collection.

“Now, pick the colour for the design.”

You presented two colours to him. A cool silver embedded with fine glitter, and a rustic gold. His eyes flicked between the two. Mind having been made up almost the second you asked.

“Silver.”

You hummed. “An excellent choice.” Shaking the polish, the glitter dispersed throughout. “Perhaps you might consider nail tech as a side job, Dr Zayne.”

Waiting for his nails to dry before you could begin the next layer, you lightly fanned them with both your hands. He chuckled—both at your comment and your cute attempt to try and speed the drying process.

“My primary job keeps me busy enough,” he replied. “Besides, I don’t have much of an eye for aesthetics.”

You were reminded of the palette of his closet. Blacks, greys, browns, and the only splash of colour being a deep green shirt. Though somewhat monotone, it did suit him well.

He continued, “I think I’ll leave that expertise up to my girlfriend.”

Your breath caught in your throat. Mouth opened ever so slightly, not wanting to reveal the way every use of that nickname slipped under your skin and made your heart skip.

You began to draw tiny snowflakes on each of them with the silver polish. Zayne admired the furrowed concentration on your face as you were locked into this task. When the design had dried, you finished by squeezing some cream onto his hands. He let out a soft sigh as you massaged it in, feeling the tension of the day release under your gentle touch.

Once you were done, you stretched your arms out and twisting around to crack your back. You held his fingers in your hands, inspecting them.

“Look how pretty they are!” You bubbled.

Zayne was honestly floored. The level of coordination it took to paint something so small was incredible.

“They’re very pretty indeed.”

You were too enthralled by your own work to see the warm smile on his face at how satisfied you were.

“Now, that’ll be sixty dollars,” you said, looking up at him smugly, placing your hands on your hips in waiting.

Zayne lifted a brow. “Do you accept payment in desserts?”

“Hm… an interesting offer,” you placed a hand on your chin in mock thought. “What kind?”

“Will each flavour of macaron at the shop that just opened suffice?” he replied. The sparkle in your eyes signalled that it was more than enough to cover the cost of your service. Promptly, the two of you went outside to resolve his payment. You walked hand in hand, matching one another with freshly painted nails.

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EPILOGUE

At Akso Hospital the next day, peoples’ gazes lingered a little too long on Zayne. As he handed out folders to nurses and gestured to screens when presenting, eyes trailed on his hands. Now, it wasn’t unusual for doctors to wear polish, but it was unusual for Zayne to have it. Another layer of mystery to unravel about the cardiac surgeon.

Greyson entered Zayne’s office to drop off some documents, sliding them towards him on his desk. “Going to some fancy event later?”

Zayne adjusted his glasses, not looking away from his computer screen. “Unless you consider a seminar at the university as fancy, I’m not sure what you’re implying.”

He gestured towards the keyboard Zayne was typing on. “I’m talking about your nails! Don’t tell me you really just got them done for fun?” Greyson asked, incredulous.

“I did.” Zayne splayed his hand out. “Is that so strange?”

“No! Not at all!” Greyon reassured, shaking his head fervently. “They do look nice though,” he admitted. “Maybe I should get their number so I can get mine done too.”

“She doesn’t take up new clientele, unfortunately,” Zayne said, resuming his typing.

At such a quick defence, Greyson immediately clocked who this person was. He was one of the few that were privy to the relationship between you and Zayne, and he knew only you could make Dr Zayne change up his style.

Exaggerating a sigh, he turned to leave. “A true shame! She sure seems talented.”

“I’ll make sure to pass that on to her,” he heard Zayne reply. Though his back was to Zayne, the smile in his voice as he answered was undeniable.

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[bunny-jpeg]

i've had a horrid idea in my head, don't look at me! (maid!reader feat. soap & ghost)

so basically

you get hired through the cleaning service that you work for, to help keep a house outside the city nice and clean. you are a bit confused why whoever hired you needed a maid who lived over two hours away. but, you were assured that it would be worth it and shuffled off.

you thankfully only had two go twice a week, mondays and wednesdays with your day off in the middle. the pay was above standard, pictures of the home were shown, along with profiles of the owners.

simon riley and john mactavish. they were army men who wouldn't be at the house as much as most customers. which was a relief. this was not however the case, as the more you spent coming over the house to clean, the more they seemed to be around.

the blond one with the face scars was simon and the burnette with the mohawk and the scottish accent was johnny (he made you call im johnny). it would taken several months before they made the first move.

it started with johnny brushing up against your backside while he was in nothing but pajama pants. his erection against you.

then the snowstorm happened. you were about the go home, determined to drive when the snow came down in heaps. the snowflakes were almost as big as a two pence coin.

you ended up staying, and johnny brought out the whisky! he told you it was the good stuff from the highlands as he served you a healthy glass. it still burned like a bastard when it went down, the disgusted face you made caused the other two men to laugh. when you tried to use the bathroom you heard simon's voice ring out, "oh, there she goes!". as the snow hit the ground outside, you got drunk with your customers.

which then resulted in coy kisses, followed by loud fucking in simon's room. it had the bigger bed but it didn't matter because your hands and knees ached by the of the night. as did the back of your throat (you couldn't talk the morning after) and your pussy (you sat in weird positions to ease the pain for a week after).

simon and johnny were bullies to you sexually. you were twisted like a pretzel as both men just fucked you without abandon. you were left gasping and it didn't help that it turned you on too! you were such a bad maid, but it was hard to believe yourself when both men grumbled your praises as they moved you once more to get at just the right angle.

you tried to give the appearance of keeping it professional, but when you ended up back at work your boss told you that simon and john needed more help before their deployment, so she had moved your customers to other maids.

your priority was to help those men anyway you could! "they're serving our country! they need as much as they can before they leave once more!"

it wouldn't take long before you pretty much moved your life into their home. when you called the resign from your job at the maid agency, johnny was between your legs while you were sitting on the kitchen counter. your free hand was in his mohawk, yanking on the strands. he had spent all morning encouraging you to quit your job, which mean being laid out behind you with his hand down the front of your panties. his calloused fingers rubbing your clit until you were practically yelping from the overstimulation!

one night when you were "helping them" simon was gone for several hours and came back with boxes of your stuff. everything was put in neatly, when you tried to ask why he simply said, "you can't be wearing our civvies forever." (as if the two men weren't going to buy you clothes or anything else you needed). but it was nice to have some stuff with you. you never asked how he got into the apartment though.

sometimes the boys will still play maid with you. johnny liked it when he got to push up the skirt of the maid's dress you were wearing and simon liked when he got to tear the garter under the skirt right off. johnny's cock was soon balls deep in your while simon licked your clit.

paycheck wasn't necessary anymore, not while you were living with them full time. living in the city was nice, you would always cherish your time in it! but it was a lot nicer being sandwiched between two burly men who would capture the sun and the moon and serve it to you on a silver platter. <3

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Nineteen

TW - I cannot stress this enough; Eddie's junk is not of this world

“You want hot chocolate?”

“Hot cho-co-late,” Eddie repeats carefully.

“I’m having one,” and since it’s Christmas, Steve gets out a small pot to make it properly on the stove top.

Steve’s stirring the slowly heating milk when he hears back back door open, and turns to see Eddie looking out, “Stee. Snowing.”

“Is it?” Steve comes out to look, “oh yeah. That’s nice right?”

“Pretty,” Eddie says, sticking his hand out and letting one of the big fat flakes settle on his fingers. Steve has a vivid memory of the last time they were in this doorway, watching the snow together, and just how different things are right now hits him all over again. Eddie sniffs the snowflake before shoving it in his mouth, “cold water.”

“You got it baby, come on, lets have hot chocolates and watch the snow.”

When Steve tells Eddie he can’t wear his hat to bed, Eddie pouts, but he does arrange it carefully on the desk, next to Steve’s flower crown. Steve has to blink back more stupid tears at the sight, and forces himself to take a deep breath and get into bed.

“Eybrows,” Eddie says, tracing them carefully with the point of his claw, “nose,” and then he veers off a little bit, “one mole. Two mole. Three mole.” Steve shivers where Eddie’s claw drags over his throat and then back up, shifting a little in bed, “mouth.”

“What are you doing baby?”

“Gro-seree list. All the things Eddidie likes.”

“Jesus Christ,” Steve mutters to himself, “how the hell are you so smooth?” He can feel himself blushing a little, which is just ridiculous.

“Not like,” Eddie rubs a knuckle through Steve’s scraggly stubble. He really does need to shave that off; he’s not drowning in a pit of despair any more, there’s no real excuse for the sad facial hair.

“No?”

Eddie shakes his head, rubbing fingertips across the smooth apple of Steve’s cheek, “good,” and then into the stubble, “bad.”

“This is smooth,” Steve tells Eddie, running his fingertips along Eddie’s arm, “this is rough,” he rubs at the stubble on Eddie’s head to demonstrate.

“Rough bad.”

“Oh. Okay. I’ll get rid of it in the morning, okay?”

“Tomorrow morning?”

“Yeah.”

“Breakfast morning lunch afternoon dinner night bed.”

Steve has to cogitate on that for a second, “yeah, yeah that’s right. Morning is after breakfast and before lunch. Afternoon is after lunch but before dinner.”

Eddie hums, settling down next to Steve in bed, his head resting on Steve’s shoulder, “before Hawkins Indiana, Eddidie in The Upside down.”

“That’s right baby, you got it.”

“After Monday Tuesday.”

“Yup, that’s right,” Steve yawns, “you have a good Christmas?”

“Many good. Christmas Tomorrow?”

Steve chuckles, “Christmas isn’t for a whole year. You remember what a year is?”

“January February March April...”

When Steve wakes up, it’s to the sight of Eddie’s feet right in the air. He’s lying on his back next to Steve, legs held straight up. He’s curling his toes. Sometimes all of them, sometimes just the big ones. His sleep pants have fallen down past his knees, and Steve lies there a while, just watching.

Eddie’s speaking, and Steve thinks it may have woken him despite Eddie’s obvious attempts to be very very quiet; he’s currently counting to ten. And then he says the days of the week, the months, the alphabet. He spells his name. He waves his feet around a little, and then bends his knobbly knees in turn, making circles like he’s riding an imaginary bicycle. He’s singing something to himself. ABBA, Steve finally makes out, it’s a bit mangled, ‘soopa troopa,’ the way Eddie sings it. Just the one line, over and over, ‘light’s are gonna’ blind me, shining like the sun,’ Eddie must have picked it up off the TV or the radio.

Steve must shift, or make a sound, and he gives himself away eventually, Eddie realizing he’s awake, “Stee. Morning. Breakfast food?”

“Morning baby.”

“Stee?”

“Yeah?”

“Eddidie baby, then Stee..?”

“Oh. You want a- hmmm.” Steve thinks, “how about sweetheart?”

Eddie looks terribly affronted, “Stee not food.”

Steve lifts his own leg out from under the covers, wriggling three toes at Eddie, “kind of am.”

Eddie actually makes a noise, so shocked a little puff of air escapes him as he splutters, “no!”

Steve can’t help his laughter, “too soon?”

“All tomorrows too soon!”

“Okay, okay. I won’t joke about it.” Steve thinks again, but most things he comes up with are kind of food adjacent. Joyce has kind of cornered the market on ‘honey.’ “How about love?”

“I love you.”

“I know baby, I love you too. But that’s what you could call me. Love.”

“Stee love.”

They brush their teeth together, elbow to elbow, “we really should shower.” They haven’t washed up since Christmas eve, when Steve dragged Eddie out of the pool. Steve inspects the tub; it’s streaked with disgusting gritty filth on the bottom, and the dirty blanket and clothes are still shoved into the corner of the bathroom where Steve left them.

They might be salvageable on a long enough wash, but Steve wants to get a trash bag rather than put them in his basket, they are really gross. He also hasn’t really done any meaningful amount of cleaning or tidying since the night Eddie bit his toes off...which between the injury and the moping, he felt he had a valid excuse to ignore the state of the house.

Not really now though, “I tell you what, lets have breakfast, and then do a little cleaning and some laundry, and then we shower, sound good?”

“Breakfast good.”

“Okay, I’ll just deal with this a minute,” and Eddie sits on the lid of the toilet, watching avidly as Steve shaves.

“Okay, so this goes in here,” Steve loads the washer, leaving the trash sack of really gross stuff for a separate wash later, “and then we measure the detergent like this.”

“Eddidie can?”

“Sure baby,” Steve tips the power back into the box, giving the scoop to Eddie so he can do it. Eddie carefully pours where Steve points. “Now, this is clothes, so we press this,” he points to the dial, and then the button, “so that gets rid of the dirt, and our clothes will be nice and clean.”

Eddie does it, and then grins big when the machine starts up, “done.”

“Good job, okay, so we give it a while, then we come back and set it drying, okay?”

“Okay.” Eddie waves at the machine, “bye bye dirt.”

“Help?”

“That’s real nice baby yeah, like this,” and Steve demonstrates as he moves along the book cases, around the TV, carefully dusting his mothers ornaments and picture frames, “you got it?”

“Got it.”

Steve leaves him to it, and goes and cleans the kitchen. Jon and Hopper did a great job yesterday, and Steve’s really grateful considering the amount of people who ate here, but there’s still an amount of post Christmas carnage to clear up. He takes the trash bag out since it’s filled with wrapping paper, then comes back and starts emptying the drying rack, getting the kitchen clean.

When he goes back into the lounge, Eddie’s done dusting, and he’s carefully arranging all his new things; he puts his new VHS next to the TV, ready for later.

“You want to vacuum?” Steve asks him.

“Vacuum?”

Steve retrieves it from the utility, plugging it in for Eddie and showing him how it works. “Dry?” Eddie shouts over the noise.

“No,” Steve calls back, immediately understanding the link between the hoover and the hairdryer, “clean!”

Eddie takes the hoover, and once Steve shows him how to move the plug from socket to socket, he does the whole downstairs of the house. After, they sit on the couch for a bit, Eddie’s new legs a little shaky with exertion, “you want to try a coffee?”

“Try a coffee. Want. Please.”

“Okay,” Steve makes them both a mug of coffee, making Eddie’s a little sweeter and milkier then his own, and Eddie drinks the whole thing happily. Steve figures if a beer doesn’t hurt, then a little coffee won’t either.

It turns out twenty minutes later that a bit of coffee can have side effects; they find themselves dealing with Eddie’s first poop.

“Cross the bridge,” Eddie had declared hilariously, after producing what was possibly the most heinous fart Steve had ever heard. Steve scrubs the tub while Eddie sits on the toilet, staying present but trying to give Eddie the illusion of privacy.

“Pee more bad then poop,” Eddie tells him.

“Well, at least this one doesn’t hurt, huh baby?”

“Not hurt. No ow.”

“Pee doesn’t hurt now though, does it? Just that first one?” Steve checks.

“No. No ow pee. Called first?”

“Good. That’s good.” Steve gets the shower head down to rinse away the last of the cleaning product, leaving a shiny white tub behind, “uhm...first is. One. That comes first. Monday comes first, January.”

Eddie hums, frowning like he does when he hasn’t quite grasped it yet. To be fair, Steve knows he can’t always give the best explanation for these things. “Not ow,” Eddie tells him, back onto safer ground.

“So if its not ow, we say it doesn’t hurt.”

“It doesn’t hurt,” Eddie parrots back, “no ow. It doesn’t hurt. Okay.”

“That’s right baby.”

Eddie awkwardly wipes and then flushes while Steve gets the water hot for his shower, he waves at the toilet, and says, “bye bye poop,” Steve covering his face with his hand to try and muffle his snort of laughter. Eddie strips off, putting all his things in the hamper, “Stee love in tub?”

“You go first.”

Eddie frowns, “no, together.”

“I…” and Steve can’t, actually, think of a real reason why not, so he gets undressed too.

Steve shampoos and then conditions his hair while Eddie stands under the water, doing little swaps back and forth when Steve needs to rinse. Eddie’s doing a half hearted job, he keeps getting distracted by the feel of the splashing water, watching fascinated as it drips from his fingers, so Steve eventually intervenes. Steve carefully scrubbing Eddie down with the wash cloth; he’s so thin, Steve can almost make out his thigh-bones. His knees, ankles and elbows protrude and Steve could fit his fingers between Eddie’s ribs.

“You hungry? I think there’s left over cobbler in the fridge.”

Eddie nods, “cobbler. Sorry canned filling. Idge cold. Make hot?”

“Yeah I can warm it up for you.”

Once Steve’s done, Eddie limpets himself to Steve. The stubble on his head is starting to turn dark, like Eddie has a five o’clock shadow on his head, and it’s rough on Steve’s shoulder, prickling him. Steve doesn’t mind though. Steve rubs his back, following the knobs of his spine.

“We should get out,” Steve says absently.

“Maybe,” Eddie replies, making Steve snort a laugh, kissing the top of Eddie’s prickly head.

Eddie responds by leaning up to kiss Steve properly, slow and soft, “first?” He asks after.

“First what baby?”

“First kiss today?”

Steve thinks about it, “yeah. Yeap you’re right. First kiss of the day, right there.”

Eddie grins, “first kiss of the day tomorrow?”

“We can do that.”

Eddie suddenly lights up, “license first! Eddidie car after!”

“That’s it baby, exactly right,” Steve tells him, Eddie clearly finally grasping the concept.

“Called before sleep kiss?”

“That would be last. Last kiss of the day.”

“December last? Sunday?”

“Yeah, yeah baby, you got it.”

Eddie nods like there was never any doubt, leaning in to kiss Steve again. Still slow and sweet, a soft touch of lips, Eddie’s arms wrapped around Steve’s middle, holding them close. It takes a minute to register the movement, something pressing against the crease of Steve’s thigh. He leans back a little to look down.

The top of Eddie’s slit has parted; the opening wide enough to permit the...Steve doesn’t even know. It’s worming against Steve’s skin, the flesh the same color as Eddie at the base, but darkening to near black at the rounded head.

It moves freely, probably roughly the same thickness as Steve’s own cock when he’s hard. Steve watches as it moves...like it’s looking for something. It moves like a snake. Like an octopus tentacle. Nudging and casting about across the skin of Steve’s hip; when it wriggles back the other way, finding Steve’s pubic hair, it nuzzles in against it.

“Eddie,” Steve swallows thickly, stunned into a frozen state of fascination, he's pretty sure he hasn't blinked in a minute, his heart thudding loud in his ears, “what-I mean. What is that?”

“Eddidie?” Eddie says, gently reaching between them to touch Steve’s own soft cock.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve breathes.

Eddie’s hand slides across, touching...himself? Steve guesses?...with his fingers. The...thing seems to wake up again, tangling itself with Eddie’s fingers easily. It’s very...twisty. And bendy. The thing looks like it has a, a kind of grip on Eddie’s fingers, almost.

And then the end starts to open, six petals that slowly start to peel apart, and Steve panics, jerking away, pushing Eddie’s hips away with both hands and holding him there at arms length.

Eddie’s...dick? Seems to startle, zipping back inside him like it was never there. “Holy shit. Holy shit,” Steve breathes, drawing in only slightly panicked breaths. He can feel his heart banging away in his chest, “pants.” He croaks out, desperately, “we should both put on pants.”

Part Twenty One