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stevie-petey · 2 months

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oh, you didn't know?

“I was told there’d be cookies.” Dustin interrupted, flashing Steve another smug grin that made the teen want to shove him into a snowbank. “Yeah, for her.” Steve pointed at you. “Not for you.”

Summary: steve is pathetically in love with you and for some reason the universe hates him and continues to pray on his downfall. typical.

Rating: general, some swearing

Warnings: swearing, fem!reader, use of y/n

Words: 1.6k

Before you swing in: happy valentines day my loves <333 youre all my valentines, i didnt make the rules. anyways, pls enjoy this cute cheesy fic. dont ask how i thought of this: i simply do not know. however, its pathetic!loverboy!steve and i think we ALL deserve that today smh.

Steve has never had the best timing.

When he first manned up to ask you out, it had coincidentally been the same day your childhood dog died.

There he had been, flowers in hand and a proud smile on his face when he knocked on your front door, completely taken aback when you answered with tears streaming down your face.

Immediately, Steve’s smile had dropped and he quickly pulled you close to inspect for any injuries or pain. “Y/N? What happened, is everything okay?”

“My dog died.” You wailed, even more tears spilling over.

“Oh my god–”

“He… He didn’t suffer. He was old and–” You had sniffed, looking so small and frail in your heartbreak, before spotting the flowers in Steve’s hand. You gasped. “H–How did you know?”

Steve had been confused for a moment, but when he followed your gaze to the flowers that were originally meant to be “please be my girlfriend” flowers, his heart dropped.

Well fuck.

“Yes…” He cleared his throat. “I, uh. Had a hunch?”

You threw your arms around Steve, the flowers then crushed between you two, but he hadn't paid any attention to them as he wrapped his arms tightly around you. After a few seconds, you placed your lips by his ear and whispered, “You’re the sweetest.”

The sincerity in your voice had made Steve want to vomit.

He hadn’t had a hunch that your childhood dog would die that day, but what else was he supposed to say? Hey, sorry your dog died, do you want to kiss now? Absolutely not.

Steve is many things, and oftentimes he is an idiot, but he isn’t that much of an idiot.

So, instead of asking you to be his girlfriend, Steve had instead spent the next three hours at your house as he consoled you and watched your favorite movie to cheer you up. While it hadn’t been his ideal outcome, Steve had still been happy to simply spend time with you. Besides, you had needed him at that moment, so of course Steve was right there by your side.

Life moved on, a few weeks passed, and eventually Steve decided to try again.

You had no more animals to possibly lose, Christmas was approaching, and Steve was determined that this time he’d be able to ask you out.

After buying you some chocolate and planning a fort building night on Christmas Eve, Steve had been sure that the night would go perfectly. There was a beautiful rose pendant bracelet sitting atop of his dresser in his room, wrapped and ready for you to open.

Steve’s plan was foolproof.

Build a fort, watch a cheesy Christmas movie, bake some cookies and drink hot chocolate, and then boom: Steve would ask you to be his girlfriend.

However, Steve really should’ve known better.

His parents had left that day and he had spent the entire time cleaning the house and preparing all the snacks before your arrival. At six on the dot, his doorbell rang and Steve eagerly ran over to answer the door.

There, standing on his front doorstep, had been you with a smug looking Dustin Henderson.

“What’s the kid doing here?” Steve had asked, all his hope now coming crashing down upon him.

You winced. “I know we made plans, I’m so sorry, but his mom asked me to babysit him and she offered me the rest of the money I need for your Christmas gift and–”

“I was told there’d be cookies.” Dustin interrupted, flashing Steve another smug grin that made the teen want to shove him into a snowbank.

“Yeah, for her.” Steve pointed at you. “Not for you.”

“Stevie, I promise I’ll make it up to you later.” You groaned at him, and Steve knew you hated disappointing him. “Can we please just come inside? It’s cold and I was really excited for the fort.”

There are many times when Steve wonders just how he manages to get himself into obscure situations. That night, when he had Dustin Henderson wedged between you and him underneath a super romantic and cute fort that he had spent hours building, had been one of those times where Steve questioned his entire life.

At that point, Steve was starting to wonder if he’d ever manage to ask you out in the first place.

A few more weeks passed after that and you were still his best friend and nothing had changed between you two, but now Steve found himself constantly biting his tongue around you. He was so fucking in love with you, he had been for years, but after two failed attempts of confessing his feelings: it was becoming impossible to hold them in.

Then, late January, your birthday came along.

This time, Steve was sure that he had it all figured out.

You had wanted to grab some dinner at the local diner you loved, and Steve thought that a small, toned down proposal to date would be perfect. He’d give you your birthday gift (a matching set of earrings for the rose bracelet you now wore every day), he’d order you the strawberry shortcake you adored, and when you weren’t looking, Steve would ask the waitress to write “happy birthday, my love” on the cake.

Steve was a goddamn romantic genius, honestly.

Except that isn’t what happened.

What actually ended up happening was the waitress somehow hearing “my love” as “Milo” and Steve had wanted to bash his fucking skull in.

“Who’s ‘Milo’?” You had asked once the cake came out, confusion evident on your face.

Steve, now used to nothing ever working out in his favor, had simply sighed and said, “Who knows, man. Just eat your cake.”

You had giggled, and the sound was enough to cheer Steve up a bit. Sure, it was looking more and more like the world didn’t want you with him, but at least he got to hear your laugh and admire the way your eyes shined whenever you looked at him.

Now, a few weeks later, it’s Valentine’s Day and Steve is terrified that he will somehow set your house on fire with his horrible luck.

He has spent the last two months trying to ask you out. Now, on the day of love itself, Steve is almost too terrified to even approach you. At the rate he’s going, if he tries to ask you out again, he’ll end up telling you he hates you or something.

He’s miserable.

Which is how he finds himself once again outside your door, except there’s no flowers in his hands, and he knocks.

You guys haven’t made any plans tonight, but it’s Valentine’s Day and Steve is so in love with you that it hurts.

The second his knuckles leave the door, you swing the door wide open and jump into his arms. “Stevie!”

Surprised by such an affectionate reaction, Steve almost falls into the bushes in front of your house. “Woah, hey!”

He steadies the two of you and you simply squeeze him tighter and giggle. You’re in an exceptionally good mood, almost too good of a mood, and Steve’s hands are sweating. He hadn’t exactly come here with a game plan in mind.

“Happy to see me, I take it?” He mumbles into your ear.

“Duh,” you press a kiss to his cheek. “It’s Valentine’s Day, why wouldn’t I be excited to see my boyfriend?”

This time, Steve actually does fall into the bush behind him.

“Oh my god,” you run over and quickly try to help the boy up, but Steve is staring up at the night sky, overcome with pure shock and fear. “Stevie? Steve!”

Steve lays there, motionless as you continue to tug at his jacket. “How long have I been your boyfriend, Y/N?”

At his question, you stop tugging and look at him, confused. “I don’t know, honestly. How long has it been since the fourth of July?”

“The fourth?” Steve sputters. “Y/N, it’s Valentine’s Day and I’m just now finding out you’re my girlfriend?”

“Oh, you didn’t know?”

“No!” Steve finally scrambles out of the bushes and grabs your face with his hands. He feels insane, his hands are shaking a bit as he holds onto you. “When did this happen?”

You scrunch your eyebrows together. “On the fourth. We saw the fireworks, cuddled on the picnic blanket you stole from your mom, you grabbed my hand, and then told me you never wanted this to end. I just… I assumed you meant our relationship?”

Steve blinks. “You… You are the love of my life, Y/N L/N.”

“Well, I’d hope so–” Suddenly Steve’s lips are against yours and he’s kissing you with everything he has within him. All those months of pining after you, all the times he’s failed in asking you to be his, and this entire time you had somehow been his all along.

God, he is so stupidly in love with you.

He nips at your bottom lip and you make a sound that’s so soft and sweet in the back of your throat that has Steve’s head spinning. He nips again, revels in the breathy sigh you release against his lips, and Steve’s hand tugs harshly against your waist.

The kiss is perfect and everything he’s ever dreamed of.

Then, a thought occurs to Steve.

“Wait a minute,” he breaks the kiss and your love drunk expression almost makes him groan. He tells himself to focus, even though it’s incredibly difficult to do so. “If we’ve been supposedly dating since July, didn’t you wonder why I hadn’t kissed you yet?”

“Oh, I just thought you were shy.” You shrug, as if it’s no big deal. Then, with a teasing smile, you add, “And I guess I love you too.”

Steve decides, then and there, that you will be the death of him.

And he couldn’t be any happier as he pulls you in again for another bruising kiss.

Afterall, Steve has about seven months to make up for lost time.

⌑ writing masterlist

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x fem #stranger things #m's writing #fluff #valentines day #enjoyyyyyy <3 #mans just wants a gf #bless him

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wheresarizona · 9 months

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Bluebonnet

summary: Is Joel Miller your friend? No. You’re not even sure if he actually likes you or just puts up with you because of his kid. Then he kicks some guy's ass in a bar for getting handsy with you, and you’re starting to think maybe he might like you a little…

rating: E (18+!! No y/n, Grumpy Joel Miller, Protective Joel Miller, Soft Joel Miller, age gap (unspecified but reader was born before the outbreak), unprotected p in v (wrap it up), creampie, oral sex (f + m receiving), 69 position, dirty talk, praise kink, spanking, spit mention, slight breeding kink, Joel has a big dick, Joel being kinda a dick, a random guy harassing you then getting beat up by Joel, canon typical violence, icing Joel’s knuckles, feelings confessions, Ellie being Ellie and the star of the show, AU where Joel doesn’t lie to Ellie and their relationship is still good)

pairing: Joel Miller/f!reader

word count: 5.5k+

a/n: Literally, a scene in this woke me up from dead sleep at five in the goddamn morning, and I spent thirty minutes plotting the whole one shot while barely awake. This fic was very spur of the moment that I wrote in less than two days, so it’s unbeta’d. All mistakes are my own. Please be horny about Joel protecting you with me.

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!

Masterlist

Is Joel Miller your friend?

No.

Are you on friendly terms?

You thought so.

Joel isn’t the most social of fellas—he’s basically a feral cat that wants to be left alone.

If you aren’t friends with him, then how did you become the regular occupant of the seat across from his in the Jackson mess hall every breakfast and dinner?

The answer is simple: Ellie.

It all started months ago when you first got to Jackson and met the teen after being assigned to a job rotation with her. She was so excited about finding out you lived in Texas for many years before the world went to hell she invited you to eat dinner with her so you could meet someone, and that’s how you were introduced to Austin-native Joel Miller.

He’s a bit older than you, never smiles, and isn’t much of a talker but still polite enough to answer a question if you ask it, even if it’s more of a grumble at the start of the day. With Ellie, though, it was different. He talked to her, and his voice was like coming home after a long day and settling in on the couch—that familiar Texan accent making you feel all warm and comfy, his words wrapping around you like a tight blanket and taking you back to a time when things were good and safe.

The morning after the first dinner, Ellie had called you over to sit with them for breakfast, and again that evening, little bits of conversation happening between bites as you got a grasp on what the relationship was between this young girl and man—it was clearly father-daughter in nature even if she didn’t call him ‘dad,’ and you savored every word she wheedled out of him.

It got to the point where the teenager didn’t have to beckon you over, and you just knew to set your food down in the seat in front of Joel to eat with them, always smiling at Ellie giving him so much shit, chatting with them or more the young girl, with Joel occasionally offering clipped anecdotes, and you trying not to acknowledge his handsomeness—you weren’t sure if he even liked you or if he was just putting up with you for the sake of his kid.

He does have a lovely voice and is very attractive with those expressive chocolate-colored eyes that sometimes soften when he looks at his daughter; you could imagine his grey hair would be soft to the touch, and it’s obvious those full lips of his are kissable. Honestly, it’s surprising he’s not seeing anyone that you know of or Ellie is aware of, with how damn pretty he is.

His broad shoulders and how his flannels stretch over his chest.

His neck.

God, he’s sure nice to look at.

And Ellie is a great kid who trusted you, coming to you anytime she needed advice or wanted to talk about something, and you were happy to be there for her.

The breakfast and dinner routine had been going on for so long that even though Joel didn’t talk at length to you, you’d managed to learn quite a bit about him from questions he’d answer or conversations he had with his kid or brother in front of you. He definitely knew a lot about you, too.

Now, back to why you’re not sure if he likes you.

That morning when you went to breakfast, you were running on autopilot—piled your plate with food, grabbed your cup of shitty coffee that made you want to cry with how much you missed Starbucks, and set it all down in your usual spot, where you started to eat.

When your brain finally began working, that’s when you realized it was abnormally quiet at your table, and you looked up to realize Ellie wasn’t there—it was just Joel. He must have seen some kind of look on your face since he grumbled out she was with a friend. Then when you asked if he wanted you to sit somewhere else, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and he told you no before going back to eating in silence.

That put a point in the maybe he wasn’t just putting up with you for the sake of his daughter column and made you smile a little the rest of the meal.

She wasn’t at dinner either.

This had you standing near your seat, chewing on your lip, debating on sitting elsewhere until Joel sighed loudly, setting down his fork to tell you in a tone that brokered no room for argument to sit, so you did.

After a few bites, you almost choked to death when he asked how your day was.

There was actual back and forth between just the two of you, and you were in heaven at how much he was speaking, another point going toward he might like you.

Those interactions had you feeling really hopeful, and you were excited for breakfast the next day, wondering if he’d try to talk to you more.

It’s been over half a year since you arrived in town, and you have managed to make some friends, who you knew for sure were your friends, and also closer to your age. When a couple of them asked if you wanted to get a drink that night and play some pool, you happily agreed.

The place is practically empty when you arrive.

Standing at the bar, chatting with your friend Mathias as you wait for the bartender to make your drinks, you can feel someone staring at you. Doing a quick glance of the room has your stomach dropping and is the reason you’re pretty fucking sure Joel doesn’t care for you; he’s sitting across the room at a table in the corner, glaring at you—not just glaring, if looks could kill you’d be deader than dead he looks so pissed off, and you’re about to go find out what his problem is when two things happen:

Mathias excuses himself to the restroom, and some man you’ve never seen, let alone spoken to, gets your attention on your other side.

“Hey.” The interloper squeezes your arm, which makes your head turn toward him, shaking him off.

“Don’t touch me,” you reply.

There’s nothing special about the guy—he’s probably younger than you, has floppy blonde hair, and a clean-shaven face, but something in his eyes made you feel uneasy.

“My apologies,” he says, putting up his hands placatingly. “This is my first night here, and I’m just trying to make a new friend. Have a drink with me.”

“Welcome to Jackson, and no, thank you, I’m here with friends.”

“I’m sure they won’t mind if you have one drink with me.” His voice goes lower, “We could have some real fun together.” He has the audacity to grab your ass, and you step out of his reach.

“I said don’t fucking touch me.”

The bartender has gone into the back, Mathias is nowhere in sight, and your other friend is in another room where the pool table is with the jukebox playing.

Something flashes in his eyes, and it has your heart pounding.

“Don’t be like that. Just one drink,” he says, coming closer.

You are readying to fight the bastard when all of a sudden, someone is grabbing his collar, and you see a fist connect with his face in a sickening crunch that makes you gasp.

Joel yanks the guy in front of him.

“She said not to fuckin’ touch her,” he grits through his teeth. “And that she didn’t wanna have a drink with you.”

“I’m sorry,” the other man wheezes, blood oozing from his clearly broken nose. “I’ll leave.”

“Yes, you fuckin’ will—after I teach you some fuckin’ manners.”

With that, he punches him again and again and again.

You’re no damsel in distress—you’ve survived the fucking apocalypse for the last twenty years practically alone and could easily fight your way out of dangerous situations. But having someone stand up for you and protect you? It’s really doing it for you, except you’re genuinely worried Joel will murder this man, so you move toward him.

“Stop, Joel!” you shout, pushing on his shoulder, and he does immediately, his eyes meeting yours. “He’ll leave; toss him out. Please, Joel. Don’t kill him.”

His chest rises and falls as he pants, nodding his head once before hauling the groaning man to the door and throwing him out. The bartender chose that moment to come back, as well as your friend.

There was a worried expression on Mathias’ face. “Is everything okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you answer. The drinks are sitting on the bartop, and you gesture toward them. “I’ve got something to do, so take those for me, okay?”

Confusion is etched on his brow. “Okay…?” He strategically picks up the three glasses and heads for the other room with the pool table.

Your attention moves to the man behind the bar. “Hey, can I get some ice in a rag?”

“Sure thing,” he replies, going to the block and using the ice pick.

Joel didn’t return to you. Instead, he went back to his table like the last however many minutes didn’t happen, and it makes you sigh.

His mixed signals have you so confused you’re ready to just get it all out in the open.

The bartender hands you some ice wrapped in a towel, and you walk over to Joel, having to drag the seat across from his around so you’re next to him, seeing his right hand shaking around his glass with bloodied knuckles.

He won’t even look at you.

“Give me your hand,” you order him.

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. Give me your fucking hand.”

“No.”

“Stop being a stubborn asshole, and let me ice your fucking knuckles.”

“I said I’m fine.”

He won’t give you his hand, so you do the next best thing and press the ice against them while they hold his drink, Joel hissing at the coldness.

His head turns to glare at you.

“Don’t give me that look.” You glare right back. “I’m helping you.”

“I don’t need your help,” he practically spits out.

Taking a deep breath, you ready yourself for what you’re going to say.

“We had a nice dinner,” you tell him.

His eyebrows furrow.

“What?”

“We had a nice dinner with just the two of us where we talked—you didn’t smile, but it was the most you’ve ever said to me, and this morning, you let me eat with you. You’re not a people person, and I wasn’t sure if you liked me all that much, but our meals today made me think you might. Then tonight you were glaring at me—”

“When was I glarin’ at you?” he interrupts.

“Before that creep started getting handsy.”

“Oh, I wasn’t lookin’ at you…” His eyes dart away.

You’re confused.

“There’s like no one here. Who were you looking at?”

He sighs loudly. “Your boyfriend,” he mumbles.

“Huh?”

“Your boyfriend—the guy you’re here with.”

“Oh, Mathias? I’m not his type, and he’s already in a relationship. I don’t have a boyfriend or a girlfriend, or a partner—I’m not seeing anyone. You should know this.”

“Oh.”

“Okay, so you weren’t glaring at me, you were glaring at my non-existent boyfriend, and then you came in hot like some knight in shining armor and beat the shit out of that asshole for doing me wrong. Sooo, you maybe like me?”

He looked at you with a squinted gaze, like the answer was obvious.

“I more than maybe like you,” he replies.

That has your eyes widening.

“Wait, in the romantic or platonic sense?”

“There’s no point in talkin’ about this,” he sighs, looking down at the amber liquid in his cup.

“Um, yes, there is because if I have a shot at breaking off a piece of this Kit Kat bar, I’d like to take it.”

His gaze met yours, and you could see the hope swirling in the dark pools.

“In the, uh, romantic or platonic sense?”

Smiling, you answer, “Romantic—I’ve basically been crushing on you since I met you. We’ve known each other for months, almost a year. You’re such a good father to Ellie, a hard worker around town, and you let some random person sit with you during your meals—”

It takes your breath away when he smiles softly and talks when you pause, “You’re not some random person, and I would’ve been stupid to turn away such a beautiful woman.”

“Oh, god, you’re hot and charming.” He chuckles, and your heart picks up in pace. “How are you making me like you more?”

“I don’t know, Blue.”

“Blue?”

“As in Bluebonnet.”

Which was Texas’ state flower and makes you feel so soft at how sweet the nickname is.

“I love it.”

The smile falls from his face.

“You, uh, don’t mind my age?” He scratches at his mustache.

Ellie had made you very aware of how old Joel was.

“No? I think you’re extremely attractive. Does the age difference bother you?”

“No.” He shakes his head.

“What now?” you ask.

“Jesus, it’s been so fuckin’ long,” he says, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I guess I’ll court you—take you on a proper date.”

“Second option, that’s more immediate, and we can go with your plan tomorrow.”

He looks at you.

“Yeah?”

“Is Ellie home tonight?”

His eyebrows dip together.

“Yeah?”

Smirking, you say, “Okay, so why don’t we go back to my place, and I properly thank you for what you did tonight.”

You see his throat bob as he swallows, his voice going deeper when he asks, “How do you wanna thank me?”

A smile pulls up on your lips, moving forward to whisper in his good ear, “I was thinking I’d suck your dick.” His breath stutters. “Then have you fuck me however you want.” That makes him groan, and you grin.

His hand moves out from under the ice and up to cradle your face, along with the other, when his body turns, making you look him in the eyes.

“I was stupid for leavin’ you alone ‘cause I assumed you wouldn’t want anythin’ to do with someone as old as me.”

You snort. “Uh, yeah. You went a little hard with the leaving me alone, but I’ll forgive you if you kiss me right now.”

No other words are said. His mouth crushes against yours, swallowing your surprised sound as he kisses you hard. Your fingers end up tangling in his grey waves of hair, your heart hammering in your chest and pulsing at the apex of your thighs. It’s obvious he hasn’t kissed in a while, and you’re in the same boat, both of you figuring things out until there’s a rhythm, and things are heating up with a slip of your tongue into his mouth to slide along his. The need inside you builds and builds until your lungs start to ache for oxygen, and you break apart, his nose nuzzling yours as you both pant with a smile on your lips.

“Let’s go,” he says, and you don’t have to be told twice.

He washed his hands before you left the bar, so it wasn’t obvious he’d just been in a fight.

Having Joel lead you through town is like having a big, scary dog on a leash with how people get out of his way. It’s a little surprising he even knows where you live when you find yourself walking through your front gate.

“How—”

“Ellie,” he answers before you even ask the question, his feet stomping up the two porch steps and you following. “She’s free to hang out with whoever and go wherever. I just ask she tells me where she’ll be.”

“That’s very ‘cool dad’ of you.”

You’re standing at the front door, him out of your way.

“She’s not allowed to leave Jackson without me. If I tell her to stay away from someone, she stays away from them. I expect her to be a model citizen and do the jobs she’s required to do. Unless we talked beforehand, she must be home in time for breakfast and dinner.”

“So, today, you knew it’d just be the two of us?”

“She asked last night to stay at Cat’s house.” That’s Ellie’s best friend. “They’re staying over at our place tonight.”

“Probably won’t even notice you’re missing then,” you say with a smile. The door’s unlocked, and you push it open before turning to grab Joel by the collar, pulling him in for a kiss as he walks you backward into the house with his arms wrapping around your back.

It’s a tangle of tongues, a clash of teeth, one of Joel’s hands moving to massage your breast while your fingers worked open the buttons on his shirt, him shrugging it off by the time you make it to your bedroom door you led him to. Once inside, he strips you first, spending quite a bit of time licking and sucking on your tits when they’re bared and stopping you when you try to work open his pants, learning he’s really fucking strong when he easily tosses you onto the middle of the bed.

Quickly, you’re sitting up on your knees, and you get a good look at the sizable bulge at the front of his jeans; Joel standing there with his hands on his hips, staring at your body with a hungry gaze, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip. Scars are littering the golden expanse of skin on his front and arms of varying sizes, a newer one you spot on his lower torso, all of them telling you he’s fought like hell to make it to this point.

Shuffling forward, you’re tired of waiting, your hands going to the button on the front of his pants. Joel’s palm engulfs yours to stop you, his head tilting down to meet your confused eyes.

“You don’t need to suck my dick for what I did,” he says.

“Okay. What if I just want to suck your dick for the hell of it?”

His lips tip up in a crooked smile, and you’re enjoying seeing his different smiles.

“Then have at it, but I wanna lick your pussy until you come on my tongue.”

You suck in a breath, your cunt clenching hard around nothing.

“If you can get me off with your mouth, you’re not gonna be able to get rid of me.”

His eyebrow arches. “Is that so?”

“Yeah. You’ll be stuck with me.”

There’d been enough talking, so you deftly popped open the button and pulled down the zipper, grabbing the waistband to tug his jeans down his thighs. You’re pleasantly surprised he goes commando, and then you get a good look at his hard cock, and it’s glorious.

He’s thick, long, with a nice curve upwards, and you’re wondering if you’ll be able to fit him in your mouth—you’re definitely up for the challenge, licking your lips at the thought. Your fingers don’t even wrap all the way around him when you take him in hand, giving him a few quick strokes.

“Wait,” he says, stopping your movements.

“What?” you ask, looking up at him.

“Hold on,” is all he replies, getting his pants the rest of the way down, kicking them off, and removing his socks. Walking around the side of your queen size bed, you’re turning in place to follow his movements as he gets on the mattress with a groan and the springs squeaking as he moves to the middle, his legs on either side of you, grabbing one of your pillows to put under his head that he lifts to look at you. “Sit on my face.” It’s an order, and he pats his chest to show you he means it.

“I thought I was giving you a blow job…?” You point at his dick resting against his stomach.

“You are,” he replies. “We’re doin’ both. Now, get up here,” he orders again, his face grumpy, patting his chest once more.

“Sheesh,” you say, moving over his leg and up the bed, thankful you showered before you went out. “You’re really bossy when you’re horny.”

When you’re within reach, he replies, “I’ll show you fuckin’ bossy,” and he puts his strength to work again, grunting while hauling you onto him with your back to his head and legs along his sides. His hand lands on the side of your ass in a sharp slap that makes you gasp, feeling the wetness between your legs, coating your inner thighs. “I’m eatin’ this pretty fuckin’ pussy,” he says, positioning you over his face, his hand giving your asscheek another hard spank causing you to clench. “And you’re gonna wrap that gorgeous fuckin’ mouth around my cock.”

You can’t respond because all train of thought leaves your brain when his mouth latches onto your cunt, feeling him groan into your sensitive skin, the sensations making your toes curl, and fire erupt in your center.

“Oh my god, Joel,” you moan. “It’s so good. It’s so fucking good.”

It takes a deep breath for you to focus on your task, spitting on your hand before grasping his hard dick in your palm, the tip red and shiny with his arousal, lowering your face to take him into your mouth. He’s salty on your tongue, your jaw open as wide as it will go as you hollow your cheeks and bob your head, stroking the considerable amount that won’t fit.

His hands have a firm grip on your hips, pulling you farther down on his face, and you’re really worried he’s going to suffocate while he eats you out like a man starving. Pleasure in winding in your belly, tighter and tighter, with how he’s licking at your folds, your eyes rolling back in your head when he sucks your sensitive little clit between his lips.

He’s really going to make you come, and it feels so fucking good you’re having a hard time sucking his cock, so lost in what he’s doing to you—saliva is dripping out of your mouth and down his shaft, making your hand slide easily along him while you have half a mind to suckle on the head of him.

You hit your breaking point suddenly, the coil inside you snapping, your body tensing up as you come with a loud moan, euphoria spreading out from your core. Joel groans into your cunt, his tongue pushing inside your sopping entrance to taste your release straight from the source, his hands grabbing handfuls of your ass and squeezing hard.

He must get his fill because he moves you off his face, hearing him take a deep breath.

“My good fuckin’ girl,” he says through panted breaths, rubbing your hips, his words causing a shiver to move down your spine. “Am I stuck with you?”

You’d given up on blowing him, your forehead resting against his thigh.

“Yeah,” you slur, sounding drunk. “How are you single?” It’s been a while since you’ve had that good of an orgasm.

He sighs and taps your hip. “Turn around, baby.”

Doing your best to turn, Joel helps you, getting you to straddle over his lower torso, your hands finding their place on his warm, flushed chest, seeing the grey hairs of his beard shining with your arousal and his lips frowning.

“Like you said earlier,” he says. “I’m not a people person.”

Your eyebrows knit together.

“I’m people…”

“No, you’re not. You’re my Texas Bluebonnet—my Blue.” His large palm comes up to stroke your cheek.

You’re wondering something. “Why did you talk to me at dinner?”

A sheepish look comes over his face. “‘Cause we were alone, and I didn’t have to worry about Ellie teasin’ me in front of you about my crush.”

“She knows?”

He grimaces. “Suspects. Since there’s only three people on this godforsaken planet I like, and you’re one of them.”

“And I’m the only one who’s not family—oh, that’s obvious.”

“Yeah…”

“Well, how do you want me?”

He looks confused. “Huh?”

“I said you can fuck me however you want,” you answer, sliding your hands up his pecs. “How do you want me, babe?”

When he smiles this time, you get a glimpse of his teeth. “Ride me.”

His answer has you grinning. “Cowgirl, like a true Texan.”

“I just love your tits,” he says, his big hands palming them.

“Good to know,” you reply with a wink.

Sitting up on your knees, you scoot back to get over his hips. His dick is still wet with your spit when you grab it and slide it through your folds before positioning him at your entrance.

There are nerves swirling in your belly, your eyes landing on his dark ones as you slowly start to drop down, seeing his mouth fall open with a gasp, his hands grabbing onto your thighs. You knew there’d be a stretch, but he’s bordering on uncomfortable in how your walls have to expand for his size, feeling the slight burn. When you finally bottom out, you’re beyond full—you’ve never felt fuller, and it takes your breath away.

“Jesus Christ,” his words are said through his teeth, his eyes squeezed shut. “Don’t move.”

His hard cock is throbbing inside you.

“Been a while?”

“Yeah.”

“Same. You’re so fucking big I’m gonna be sore after this.”

His dick jerks as he groans, “Don’t say that.”

“Damn, you’re that close?” you ask, soothingly stroking your hands over his chest.

You watch as his eyes blink open, the grumpy expression you’re used to appearing on his face.

“Don’t make fun of me.” He slaps your ass. “I haven’t fucked in a long time, and now I’m inside the perfect pussy—you’d be strugglin’ too if you were me.”

“I’m not making fun of you, Joel.” You lean forward to cup his cheek, feeling prickling stubble under your palm. “I think it’s hot. Like, you have no idea how flattered I’d be if I made you come right away—talk about an ego boost.”

He doesn’t look convinced, his eyes narrowing.

“Are you just sayin’ that to make me feel better?”

“Nope.” To prove your point, you sit up, bracing yourself with your hands on his chest as you start circling your hips.

His mouth goes slack, his eyes widening, a choked noise pulling from his throat that makes you smirk. “Fuck,” he pants. There’s sweat beading on his forehead, his cheeks a rosy pink. “You fit me like a fuckin’ glove.”

You’re slowly building into an up-and-down motion, feeling every ridge and vein of his cock rubbing against spots you didn’t know existed, sparks of pleasure igniting in your center as you throw your head back.

He must get a hold of himself because both of his hands come down on each of your asscheeks in loud, resounding smacks before he’s gripping them to help you move.

Looking down at him, there’s concentration on his brow.

“Your tight little pussy is takin’ me so fuckin’ well,” he says, hearing the wet sounds where you’re joined. “You love how I stretch you open?”

“Yes,” you moan.

You’re moving a little faster, moving up, and falling down a little harder, making the fire in your belly get hotter and hotter.

“Lean down.”

Doing as he says, your hands are on either side of his head while he continues helping you ride him. He lifts his face to pull a pebbled nipple between his lips, and the pleasure shoots straight to your pussy, making you gasp and more arousal spill around his length.

He laves at one bud, then the other as you work yourself up, the new angle allowing the coarse hairs at the base of his cock to rub deliciously against your clit, and you know you’re close.

Joel is groaning loudly, clearly in heaven, with his dick inside you and his mouth on your tits.

“You gonna come for me, baby?” he says around your hard nipple. “You gonna let me feel you squeeze my dick? Let me fuckin’ have it. Be a good fuckin’ girl and give it to me.”

It’s all too much, everything coming to a head as you fall over the edge with a cry of his name, clenching so hard around him, you’ve stopped moving with his cock buried to the root, pleasure radiating through your body.

Joel’s breathing hard under you, and you don’t sound any better while you come down from your high.

His arms suddenly hug you close to him, and you squeak in surprise when he flips you onto your back with his dick still inside you and his hips nestled in the cradle of your thighs. Lips find yours in a searing kiss, moaning as you taste yourself, welcoming his tongue when it slips into your mouth to tangle with your own.

He starts moving to chase his high, his thrusts hard and fast.

The bedsprings are squeaking loudly, the headboard banging into the wall, hearing the wet suck of your pussy taking his cock and your muffled moans paired with his muffled groans. There’s no mistaking what’s happening in this bedroom, and you just hope your neighbors don’t complain in the morning.

Your fingers have threaded into his hair, your bodies sweaty, his lips leave yours, opening your eyes to see his face screwed up like he’s in pain.

“Where do you want it?” he grits out.

If he’s asking, then he knows the risk.

“Inside.”

He opens his eyes wide. “Are you sure?”

It is a rare thing to want these days.

“Yes.”

His pace speeds up, grunting as he pistons into you, resting his head in the crook of your neck, feeling his hot breaths.

“You can fuckin’ have it,” he grunts. “Fuck you full of me—milk me fuckin’ dry. Fuck, you’re perfect.”

You know he’s close when his thrusts get jerky, then he’s pushing in hard one last time with a guttural groan, feeling the hot spurts of his come filling you, his hips continuing to roll until they finally come to a complete stop. It’s obvious he’s wrung out with how he practically collapses on top of you, but you welcome the weight, pushing your fingers into his hair and scratching at his scalp, which receives appreciative hums.

Minutes pass that neither of you speaks.

“‘M sorry,” the words are murmured into your neck.

“For what?” you softly ask.

“Makin’ you think I didn’t like you.”

“It’s kinda my fault, too. I mean, I am aware you don’t like people but you’ve eaten two meals a day with me for almost a year, so obviously you must like me somewhat.”

His head comes up with his eyebrows furrowed and his lips frowning.

“I like you more than somewhat.”

You smile. His hair is a mess, and you go about combing your fingers through it as you say, “Yes, I know that now. You like me.”

“I do.”

“And I like you.”

“Good.”

“I said you’re stuck with me, so can this be more than a one-time thing?”

His eyes squint in that same way where he thinks something is obvious.

“What?" he says. "I’m not lettin’ you go anywhere. You’re mine—my Blue.”

“Good. ‘Cause you’re mine, too.”

He kisses you passionately, and you lose yourself in it for a second until a thought has your eyes flying open and you pushing his face away.

“What?” he asks, bewildered.

“How are you going to tell Ellie?”

“Shit. Uh, we can sit her down tomorrow night—”

“No, this is a conversation you need to have with her alone.”

He winces. “I’ll talk to her tomorrow night after dinner...”

Is Joel Miller your boyfriend?

He absolutely hates you giving him that label, grumbling he prefers partner, but yes, he is your boyfriend.

Did Joel sneak out of your house in the early morning hours to his own so Ellie wouldn’t know he was gone all night?

Also, yes.

It’s the morning after, and you’re trying to act normal, ignoring how nervous you feel and the soreness between your legs as you sit down in your usual spot in front of Joel with your plate of breakfast. He’s changed into clean clothes and looks like he hasn’t slept, sipping on one of the two cups of shitty coffee in front of him, Ellie next to him already digging into some oatmeal with her spoon, which makes you realize—

“Ah, fuck,” you say, both of them looking at you. “I forgot to grab a fork.”

“I’ll get you one, baby,” Joel says as he sets his coffee down and starts to get up.

The three of you go completely still. Your eyes are wide, Joel’s close in regret, his cheeks turning pink, and Ellie looks like she’s going to explode with excitement until—

“You guys FUCKED!” she shouts.

People around the mess hall turn to stare.

“Ellie,” Joel hisses, his head whipping toward her.

“Sorry, sorry,” she says in a quieter voice, the rest of the room returning to eating. “I knew it! It’s about fucking time! So when are you getting married?” She’s looking between the two of you. “You know, I’ve always wanted a mom! And a brother! I’ll settle for a sister, though. Is she moving in with us, Joel?” She’s staring at him expectantly with a grin.

Joel’s face is bright red. “I’m gettin’ the fuckin’ fork,” he grumbles as he gets up from his seat.

Masterlist

Thank you for reading! If you’d like to be tagged in my fics, please fill out the form in my bio, on my masterlist, or just let me know!

Tagging: @theorganasolo @absurdthirst @littlemisspascal @pedrostories @katareyoudrilling @iamskyereads @thefictionalgemini @lol-im-done @koryianders @flyingmushroomss @abbyhaslongshorts @savage-aespa @sofietargaryen @kpopslur @superflymaterial @virtuallia @shaunthesheesh @marsroxx @whore4dilfs @majdoline @mandowhatnow @autobotgirl15-blog @lentil-s0up @myloveistoolittle @squirtlebob @joliettes @aonungs-tsahik @javierpenasimp @thewayiknowyou @magic-magnoliaa @vanemando15 @eddiemunscns @gracie7209 @fan-fiction-floozy @butterscotch-mafia @deliriousfangirl61 @khaylin27 @notyourlovemonkey @a-wild-haggis @scorpiomindfuck @fandomandotherthings @seitmai @myswficlist @call-me-doll-face @fictionalmenloversblog @addisonnie @shaekirk @bitchwitch1981

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller/reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #wheresarizona writes

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queenie-ofthe-void · 24 days

Text

Stuck

~1.5k words || rating: teen || cws: dissociation; unlabeled neurodivergencies and mental illnesses

He’s never quite sure how it happens, seeming to always sneak up on him. One minute he’s up and moving around, usually cleaning, organizing, or just meandering around the house. The next, he’s lying on the floor in the middle of the living room. He tries to move but can’t. Not because he’s physically restrained, like when the rope from the Russians cut into his wrists or how the vines constricted his neck.

No, Steve’s just lying here on the floor, trapped in his own mind. His eyes are raw, stinging with dryness. Painful tingles pop throughout his right arm from where his head rests heavy on his bicep. His hip and shoulder ache. He can’t move or talk or blink. Can barely think. He’s not in his body.

He’s lost. Stuck.

Getting stuck means losing time, chunks of days lost to a void. It means missing meals and unanswered phone calls. Growing up, it felt like an escape. A safe way to pass the time between eating and sleeping. He’d come back to himself, sometimes hours later, sore and hungry, mustering up energy he didn’t have. Once, his parents discovered him frozen on the ground. Mom’s yelling and Dad’s foot shoving his side brought him jolting back into his body. Like waking from a nightmare, rising from the dead chased by panic.

It happens less now, but still catches up to him when he’s exhausted. He thinks today it was the kids– they were particularly obnoxious. Yelling excitedly about Eddie’s new campaign ideas, trucking in snow from outside after building a demo-snowman. Cooking for them, cleaning after them, getting them home safe.

Yeah, he gets how he maybe overdid it a bit.

But with Eddie here, it’s easier. His sweetheart always knows how to help, usually checking up on him after stressful days. Hopefully he comes to check on him soon.

Because Steve can’t move. Or talk. Or even blink.

The sun is starting to set.

~~~

The Party were extra chaotic today, pushing him to the fringes of patience. He’s thrilled they’re excited about his newest campaign ideas, but god, did they have to be so unbearably loud about it? Dustin’s screeches are still rattling between his ears. Not to mention the soreness he feels from helping the kids build a snowman demo-thing and the ensuing snowball fight.

The idea of an occult campaign has been percolating in Eddie’s brain for weeks, and after the day he’s had, he’s lost to the research. Perched on a chair upstairs in their bedroom, books are scattered across the desk and onto their bed next to him. Typically, creative deep-dives restore his energy after a long day. But when he’s well and truly exhausted, he’ll lose hours at a time to the work. Getting stuck, according to Steve. And yeah, Eddie can see how that fits.

Growing up, Eddie would lose hours throwing himself into his latest and greatest project, whether it be drawing, playing guitar, writing campaigns, reading or even the time he tried juggling. Entranced by his newest obsession, his surroundings would fade into the background. He’d forget to do his homework, to eat or drink. Hell, sometimes he’d forget to pee. Wayne’d drop a gentle hand to his shoulder– pulling him back to reality– and he’d take off like a shot to the bathroom. Every sensation hitting all at once: bladder about to burst, stomach rumbling, dry mouth, headache, body stiff and achy.

As he gets older, it’s still a frequent occurrence. So Robin had given him the idea of setting alarms, saying it helps her remember to take breaks while studying. And he’s thankful, because it works like a charm when he actually remembers. But when he forgets, his Stevie takes care of him.

He’ll find Eddie crouched awkwardly by the desk, eyes manic, only seeing what’s in front of him. Eddie will eat or drink anything Steve gives him, barely tasting whatever it is, just as long as he can see it. And Steve lets him be for at least a few hours so he can burn energy into whatever project he's lost himself in. All Steve cares is that he’s fed and hydrated. Usually, Eddie comes to slowly, with Steve’s fingers gently carding through his hair, or soft strokes up and down his spine.

Now Eddie breaks his own musings, eyes strained, hungry, and needing to stretch. He can’t help but wonder why his sweetheart hasn’t checked on him.

Moonlight is shining through the window.

~~~

It’s eerily quiet as Eddie makes his way down the stairs. He half expects to find Steve stress-baking, but the kitchen is dark.

So he checks the garage– the car is still here. And the backyard– he never sits by the pool alone. Then the front porch– maybe he went out for a smoke.

Guilt eats at Eddie as he finds his beautiful boy on the living room floor, curled into himself.

Stuck.

He hates finding Steve like this– stuck and lost like Eddie’s engrossed fantasies. Yet so, so different.

The first time Eddie found him, unresponsive and immovable, he spiraled into a panic so strong Steve had broken free of his own melancholy, finding Eddie hyperventilating and sobbing in the midst of a flashback. Too much like Chrissy. Like Patrick and Nancy.

They'd talked about it. And Eddie had appreciated afterwards how Steve struggled to describe what being stuck feels like, why it happens, what to do about it. It'd helped.

So on grey days, long nights, the holidays, or when the kids are extra rowdy, Eddie looks for the signs. He's been good about getting Steve to slow down before it's too late.

But on rare occasions, there will be a day like today. When it’s too much for both of them.

Eddie doesn't know how long his baby’s been lying here. Doesn't know when he ate or drank or even blinked. Because he’d holed himself up, desperate for time alone to just think. To be with himself after spending all day surrounded by people. But he forgot to set an alarm, assuming Steve would be there.

He focuses on his sweetheart, slowly kneeling down next to him so as not to startle him. Remembers all of the tips and tricks Steve needs.

"Hey honey," Eddie whispers, close enough to be present but not overwhelming. "Don't worry baby we'll get you unstuck I promise. I'm going to reach out and grab your hand now ok?"

He continues to whisper gentle praises and reassurances as he holds Steve's hand. It's limp for a time, and Eddie is hungry, but he doesn't stop. Time is lost to them both again, until he feels a slight squeeze on his fingers. Steve finally blinks, slow and hard.

"Hey big boy, love to see those pretty, long eyelashes.” He smiles down at his baby, honeyed hazel eyes slowly refocusing. “Alright, once for no and two for yes: do you want me to help you onto the couch?"

A full minute passes before Eddie feels two gentle squeezes to his fingers.

"That's great sweetheart. I'm gonna tilt you to sit up and we'll get you settled. Then I'm going to ask if you want anything. Ready?" Two squeezes.

They finally get to the couch, and Eddie can already feel a strong sense of relief at just seeing his baby move off the floor. He hears Steve's back pop as they stand, decides he'll give him a massage later.

It goes on. And on and on. Eddie follows the process of squeezes until Steve is unstuck and back in his body.

"Water?" Two squeezes.

"Food?" One squeeze.

"Blanket?" Two squeezes.

Eddie's patience always pays off. He's got Steve set up on the couch, hydrated and relaxed, with his favorite movie playing softly. He’s managed to grab a bowl of cereal for himself. They're cuddled and warm with Steve’s head in his lap. Eddie glides his fingers up and down the sore side of Steve’s body, gently squeezing as he goes.

~~~

Steve comes back to himself surrounded by love.

His eyes sting and his mouth is dry. He doesn't know what time it is, but notices the sun has long set, moonlight shining through the curtains. The bones in his neck crack and his joints pop as he stretches.

But he's warm under the blankets, tucked into his boyfriend's chest as they watch the teddy bear Star Wars. Eddie's loosely twirling the hairs at the nape of his neck, lightly tugging and sending tingles down his spine. There's a glass of water and crackers on the table in front of him.

Getting stuck inside his head terrifies him, something he dreads as much as the night terrors.

But with Eddie, it's easier, happens less often. And when it does, he always wakes up to love.

This was a pure self-indulgence fic. An exact recreation of my relationship with my partner. It fits my headcanon for the boys perfectly (though I'm obviously biased haha)

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #steve harrington whump #hurt/comfort #steve harrington does not feel his feelings it's practically canon #steve harrington is my favorite self insert and i will continue to do so until i get so sick of writing myself i go back to canon #rinse and repeat #eddie munson #eddie munson is the personification of adhd #have you seen that man's bedroom? it's definitely canon #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things ficlet #QueenieWritesStories

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vcnillazelda · 2 years

Text

pinball frenzy

vance hopper x reader

summary: you keep him calm at his worst

tags: (almost) fights, shoving, swearing, fluff, protective vance, dates, emotional hurt/comfort, slight angst with a happy ending, anger management (kind of)

✞———————❖———————✞

the sound of the pinball machine filled the silence between the two of you. you had to admit, vance was very skilled at pinball. neither of you spoke a word to each other despite it being a date. grab n go was vance’s favourite place, so you invited him there; sipping on a blue raspberry slushy as you watch his score tick up at a fast rate. his high score was still quite a while away, and it needed vance’s full concentration. you loved how he scrunched his brows when he concentrated; you wish he’d focus on tests like this. every time the two of you came here, you let vance borrow a few quarters to play, and he’d always pay you back in your favourite slushies and candies.

you carefully brush past vance, not wanting to disturb him whilst also wanting a refill. the clerk here always gave you free slushies for keeping vance under control nowadays. positioning your cup under the slushy machine, you slowly fill it up, still idly listening to the pinball machine. a thump, then the small chime that vance had lost was a huge red flag in your mind. you didn’t even turn yet and vance had already blown up. “what the fuck?!” he yells, a commotion coming from behind you. you whip around, watching your lover shove the other teen to the floor. “vance-!” you drop your cup, running over and circling your arms around his abdomen. “vance, leave it. he’s not worth it.” you mutter to your boyfriend; keeping your grasp firm yet not enough to suffocate him.

vance huffs through his nose angrily, watching the kid splutter apologies as he scrambles out of the grab n go and away from vance hopper’s wrath. his hands flex, he’s stressed and you know you have to try and calm him down or his day will be ruined. “look at me.” you mumble, gently grasping his cheeks with your hands. vance avoids his gaze, clearly unhappy with the situation. that’s okay, he doesn’t have to look. “it’s gonna be okay. deep breaths.” you tell him, voice soft. vance cracks, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face into your neck, huffing in deep breaths like you told him to.

vance gently grasps the back of your shirt, keeping himself grounded as best he can to avoid blowing up at the people around him; especially you. “you’re doing great. you can always play pinball again, vance.” you run your hand over his back as if soothing a wild, seething animal. “i know but-“ he freezes, thinking through his words carefully. “i don’t wanna ruin our date.” vance grumbles, words vibrating against your skin. “you’re not ruining our date, baby.” you respond; hand slipping up to massage his neck as well as his back. “i did, don’t lie to me. i blew up despite all the work you put into helping and-“

“vance. look at me.” you pull away, grasping each side of his jaw more firmly so he would look at you. he blinks at you, probably expecting you to scold him for ruining everything. “you haven’t ruined our date. i’m still having a great time with you, and i’m so, so, so proud of you for keeping calm.” you tell him, voice gentle. “you’re not mad?” vance frowns, and you shake your head. “no, i’m not mad at you. i can’t ever be mad at you, vance.” you smile, bumping your nose against his gently. vance smiles too, but only a little as he gives you a sweet kiss. “here,” you press a few quarters into his hand. “play another round. do you want a slushy?” you ask softly, and vance smiles a bit larger. “yeah.. i’ll have a red one.” you nod briefly, kissing his nose. “okay, baby. go beat that high score for me whilst i get our slushies.” vance nods too, giving your lips one last kiss before stepping back over to the pinball machine.

you walk back to the slushy machine, cringing at the sight of your spilt slushy. grabbing some paper towels, you hastily mop up the mess and put the cup in the trash before the poor clerk realised you had even made a mess. (they were probably too preoccupied on keeping an eye on vance to notice). you pour two slushies, one red, the other blue, and head back. you place vance’s slushy to the side, watching him play as you carefully rest your head against his shoulder; being cautious as to not knock or disrupt him. “i love you.” you mumble. his fingers falter for a second, but he quickly recovers. “love you too.” he rushes out, still hyper-focused on his pinball. you smile, kissing his shoulder softly before giving him space and watching from a difference. you wouldn’t change vance hopper for the world.

#vance hopper #vance hopper x reader #vance hopper x you #tbp vance #tbp #the black phone #the black phone x reader #// 🍨 vcnillazelda #// 🍨 the black phone

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ladamedusoif · 5 months

Text

Starry Night (Joel Miller x Stargazer f!reader)

A Merry Fic-Mas - December 1

Part of A Merry Fic-Mas: A Holiday Fic Calendar - click for masterlist.

Pairing: Jackson!Joel Miller x Stargazer F!Reader

Rating: Teen

Word count: ~1500

Warnings: Strong language (Ellie is involved); canon doesn’t go here; alcohol references; fluff; almost certainly some stargazing errors please forgive me

Summary: There are a lot of wonderful things about making it to the safety of Jackson, but the darkness of the night sky makes it a perfect home for a stargazer like you - and you’re only too happy to share your knowledge with a space-mad teenager. Oh, and her grumpy dad.

Every time you set up your telescope, you remembered the look Maria had given you the day you returned from a scavenging mission with it strapped to your back, still in its packaging.

“Seriously?”

You shrugged as you got off your horse. “Seriously. Got plenty of other stuff too, so let me have this, please?”

She looked dubious, but threw up her arms in resignation. “If we need it for lookout - it’s ours, okay?”

You nodded, hugging the telescope close to your chest, and raced home to set it up.

Space was your dad’s thing, and he’d made it yours, too. Nights in the backyard with his very basic kit trained on the skies, stargazing maps in front of you, climbing on his lap to look through the viewfinder.

He taught you the major constellations, how to find planets visible in the night sky, explained how stars helped people navigate, long ago.

Little did you know then how that information would come in handy years later, finding your way to the safety of the Jackson settlement with nothing else to guide you.

Stargazing in the suburbs wasn’t ideal. Too much light pollution. In Jackson, though? Wide, open dark skies, far as the eye could see.

Every time you watched the night sky, you looked out for your dad.

Cold, crisp, clear winter nights were your favourite time for stargazing. Bundled up in your warmest coat, hat, and blankets, you sat on your porch, telescope in front of you and an old Atlas of the Night Sky on your lap. Out of the corner of your eye, you became conscious of two people walking along the sidewalk past your home. Recent arrivals, you guessed, seeing as they weren’t familiar; a young girl, an older man. Father and daughter, probably.

“Whoa, dude. She’s got a fuckin’ real telescope!”

The girl had stopped to stare at you, eyes wide in astonishment. You offered a shy smile and a little wave, and were about to speak when the man interjected, beckoning the girl on with a frustrated tilt of his head.

“Mind your manners, Ellie. Sorry, ma’am. Didn’t mean to disturb you. You have a good night.” He nods and you return the gesture, touched by his somewhat old-fashioned manners, and they walk on as you go back to seeking out Castor and Pollux.

Over the next couple of weeks, you learned that the man was Tommy’s older brother, Joel. His exact relationship to Ellie, the teenage girl, was not clear: she wasn’t his biological daughter, you suspected but Tommy tended to refer to her as “Joel’s kid”.

They tended to keep to themselves, for the most part. But she would peek in your direction if she spotted you at social events in the community, as if she was weighing up whether she should go and talk to you. No amount of friendly waves and smiles from you could ever convince her, it seemed.

You took matters into your own hands at the holiday tree lighting ceremony. You picked them out easily: Joel, big and broad in a sheepskin-lined winter coat, greying hair curling over the collar; Ellie, ponytail bobbing from side to side as she looked at the illuminated tree in absolute awe and wonder.

“Joel and Ellie, right?”

They turned to appraise you, still wary of new people. You held out the mugs of eggnog you’d grabbed for them on your way across the room.

“Thought you might like some eggnog, and I wanted to introduce myself. I’m the telescope lady.”

Ellie’s eyes widened. “So cool,” she murmured, as if to herself.

Joel nodded and accepted the eggnog gratefully, the mug suddenly appearing doll-sized in his large hands. “Ellie’s got a thing for space, don’t you? Loves hearing about the space programs, the astronauts, all that.”

The teenager looked down at her shoes and blushed a little as she nodded. Apocalypse or not, teenage girls will always be embarrassed by their dads.

Ellie took a sip of her eggnog. “How’d you get a fuckin’ telescope, anyway?”

Joel scolded her, but you chuckled. “I found it in an old hobby store on a scavenging mission one time. I wasn’t gonna leave that behind, now was I?” She grinned at your conspiratorial wink, and Joel seemed to relax a little.

“Come over whenever you want, and I’ll give you a guided tour of the sky. We’ve got perfect conditions here for it.”

She beamed and turned to Joel, who shook his head softly. “We don’t want to be disturbing you, ma’am.” You corrected him with your name, and he repeated it, low and slow, in that warm, dark voice of his.

“I mean it, Joel. You are both very welcome to do some stargazing with me, whenever you’d like.”

“No fuckin’ WAY!”

Ellie tears into the kitchen on the morning of December 21, excitedly brandishing a piece of paper under Joel’s nose as he sips - or tries to sip - his morning coffee.

“Whatever it is, El, it’s far too early for this kind of excitement.”

“Look at it, dude!”

He rolls his eyes, puts down his mug, and looks at the piece of paper. It’s a handwritten invitation, decorated with drawings of celestial bodies and, at the bottom, a bright red telescope. He can’t help but chuckle as he reads the words aloud.

“Ellie (and Joel) are invited to a special winter solstice stargazing party tonight, December 21, at 6pm. Wrap up warm and be ready to see stars.” Underneath, you’ve carefully written your name and address in neat print.

By now, Ellie is positively bouncing with excitement. “The fuckin’ telescope! I’m gonna look through a fuckin’ telescope! At fuckin' SPACE!”

Joel’s heart swells as he takes in her sheer joy at the prospect of looking up into the heavens, knowing how hard everything has been for her, how much he has wanted to make her smile again.

“Alright, but there’ll be no telescope if you don’t eat and get dressed for school. Go on, now.”

The telescope is already set up on your porch when they arrive later that evening, Joel carrying a flask of hot coffee and Ellie a tin with a few cookies - the best they could rustle up at short notice.

“I’m so glad you came!” You beam at them as you open your front door, beckoning them inside. “I’ve got some snacks ready, and some hot punch.”

A smile creeps over Joel’s face as he realises you’re somehow playing a compilation of holiday music. Brenda Lee is singing about rocking around the Christmas tree, Ellie is nodding her head in time to the song as she makes a beeline for the bowls of snacks you’d set out, and he is struck by just how long it’s been since he’s experienced anything akin to “holiday cheer”.

“What the fuck does ‘rockin’ around a Christmas tree’ mean, anyways?”

Joel tuts and rolls his eyes. “Ellie. Language.”

You giggle as you hand Ellie a cup of non-alcoholic hot punch. “It’s fine, Joel. I think she means people are dancing around a Christmas tree, Ellie.”

Ellie looks sceptical. “Fuckin’ weird. Hey, when can we look at the stars?”

Joel lets you take the lead, as Jackson’s resident stargazer. He sits on one of your kitchen chairs, sipping from a mug of punch, watching you show Ellie how to navigate the night sky.

The punch is warming in more ways than one. As Ellie bounded out to the porch earlier, you’d subtly held up a bottle of liquor at him and raised your eyebrows in a silent question, before adding a little to your and his mugs of punch once he’d nodded his assent.

“See that really bright, orangey one there? That’s Betelgeuse. It’s a red supergiant.”

Ellie’s mouth hangs open as she squints through the telescope’s eyepiece. “Red supergiant,” she repeats.

“See if you can find Orion’s Belt for yourself. It’s not too far away.”

You turn to Joel, checked blanket wrapped around your shoulders, and raise your mug towards him with a warm smile. “Happy holidays, Joel.”

He reciprocates the gesture, dark, warm eyes crinkling as a gentle, genuine smile spreads across his face. It might be the first time you’ve ever really seen him smile.

He looks to the heavens, taking in the perfect, pitch-dark blue-black carpet of a night sky embroidered with millions of twinkling stars. For an instant, he finds comfort in remembering that we all - everyone who is, who has ever been, and who will ever be - gaze up at the same firmament.

General fic taglist: @agentjackdaniels, @julesonrecord , @tessa-quayle, @vermillionwinter , @iamskyereads , @tieronecrush , @perennialdoll247 , @love-the-abyss , @imaswellkid , @intheorangebedroom , @fuckyeahdindjarin , @littlemisspascal , @khindahra , @pedrostories , @readingiskeepingmegoing , @rhoorl , @red-red-rogue , @princessanglophile , @katareyoudrilling @survivingandenduring , @trulybetty @fictionismyreality @sunnywithachanceofjavi , @joeldjarin , @lahoozaherr, @s-u-t, @its-nebuleuse, @veryprairieberry (let me know if you'd rather not be tagged!)

#a merry fic-mas #holiday fic calendar #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller jackson #the last of us fanfiction #tlou hbo #the last of us #ellie williams #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedrostories #pedro pascal

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bokettochild · 2 months

Note

if i may ask, for febuwump if u don’t mind, day 15 twilight asking “who did this to you” to a whumped legend? and then protective big brother mode activate

Oh boy, I had SO many ideas for this one! Apologies for it being (checks wrist only to realize I'm not wearing a watch) late? By....time? Anyways, here's some brotherly bonding! (And copious amounts of Twilight having friends because I can!)

Rating: Teen

Wordcount: 5,792

Summary: Being a big brotehr is stressful, and sometimes, Twilight just needs a break to go and be a person. When one of his brothers needs him most though, he's willing to drop everything. Although, in the end, it's not all bad.

(Warnings: References to alcohol and social drinking)

As a rule, Twilight loves his little brothers.

No matter who it is or what they’ve done, or even how much they might drive him up the wall on any given day, he loves them all the same and will always be there for them. Still, he’s only a man. Sometimes, as much as he loves those who he’s found as family, he also wants to get away for a bit and be not just a big brother, but more.

At Telma’s, he’s the hero, but he’s also the country boy who doesn’t know the city well yet. He’s the daredevil, because they've never met Wild or Warriors and they don’t know how much worse it really could be. To his friends, he’s the wild one, and for once, he’s not responsible for watching out for any of them. In fact, if he didn’t know any better, he’d guess they all feel the need to keep an eye on him. Ashei definitely does, all things considered, and Auru likely does as well. Considering he’s the youngest of the group though, son to one and young enough to be the child or grandchild of two others, it makes sense.

So, naturally, after a long day on the road with the other heroes, one where Wild has been not quite a pain in his ass but definitely a challenge, no one can blame him from wanting to get away from the champion a bit.

“It’s not that I don’t love the kid,” he tells the others, “But Ordonia’s Horns, does he try my patience some days.”

“What did he do?” Ashei’s dark stare flicks over him, lips twitching in what, for her, is a greatly amused smile. “Climb up a freezing mountain without proper gear and nearly get killed?”

His tankard hits the table harder than is really necessary, and he’s definitely not pouting as he stares back at her. “You’re never gonna let that go, are you?”

She just blinks at him, face unchanging.

Twilight sighs, running his free hand over his face and shaking his head at the same time. “No. He’s a smart kid, amazing at survival an’ he’d never make that kind of mistake. Well, not now.” Brows raise, but he quickly explains. “I’m sure near the start of his adventure he had to learn somehow, but as young as he is, he’s pretty exceptional in all things survival.”

The familiar clucking of Shad’s tongue announces the arrival of the scholar, who drops without a care into the free seat beside him, smile loose and, to anyone else, haughty. Twilight knows that smile though, knows it means mischief, and he’s not wrong. “And yet we got stuck with you, when we could have had someone so capable!”

Maybe, in the earlier days, he would have smacked the other for those words. In the early days he certainly would have wanted to, and he would have meant it too. Now, the urge to jostle him like he does with Warriors when the other teases him is still very much there, but he resists it. Shad may be close in height to the captain, but he’s not accustomed to taking blows, and a smack from the ranch hand may or may not actually leave him still sitting in his chair.

Instead, he settles for knocking his boot against the man’s ankles, staring at him pointedly. “Yeah, I’d love to see him launch yer skinny ass up to the sky islands. Don’t know if you’d survive the trip though.”

“But he’s a hero, saved a princess didn’t he? You expect me to believe he doesn’t know how to handle other living people?”

He snorts. His understanding of the younger hero is filtered through uncanny dreams that, apparently, show him things that actually happen between them in the future, in the cub’s era, but even if he doesn’t hold them as memories of his own (not quite yet) he does know how Wild treats his princess. “I once saw him push his princess down a mountain, so...”

“What?” Auru stares at him, and Twilight is abruptly reminded that their present company is not just people his own age who the shock factor works on, but also elders who might actually experience heart failure at some of the stories he could tell about his cub. “She was standin’ on a shield an’ they were doin’ this thing called shield surfin’. Worst she got was a face fulla snow when she skidded into a bank.” Somehow that doesn’t assure the elder very much. “She was laughin’ when we got her out, and she pushed herself down the next time.” He adds, watching Auru relax at least slightly at the words.

“Well then, it’s clear they were doing it in good fun,” Shad answers. “He doesn’t sound so bad.”

“Are you a princess?” He teases back. “Gee, Shad, I must have missed the tiara! Where you been keepin’ it?”

Unlike himself, Shad takes no issue with smacking him for his jesting. Unfortunately for the scholar though, he can take a hit, and at worst it just feels like a slight stinging from the impact. Shad, on the other hand, cradles his hand like it’s been broken.

Ashei shakes her head at the man, sipping from her tankard with a sigh. “You really should know better by now.”

“I forget!”

“You forget he’s a wall of muscle when you’re looking right at him?” Telma teases, waltzing over with a drink for Shad and offering a warm smile to all of them.

Twilight takes the opportunity to flip the glasses of his friend’s nose. “You need a better pair of these if you’re that blind.”

Shad squawks, fumbling for the fallen spectacles. It takes a moment, and his flailing almost ends up with them falling in his drink, but Ashei catches them neatly and offers them back. It's only when they're on the scholar’s face again that he turns to Twilight, huffing. “Why must you do that?”

“Because I can.”

And this is just what he means. He’s not the elder sibling here, he’s not in charge, he’s not the reliable one. To these people, he’s the young pup who beat Ganon, the country bumpkin up from Ordon who sees the city as a wonder and a giant. He’s just Link.

Not that he resents his brothers for needing him. No, he’s glad to have a place and to know what’s expected of him, to be able to do something for them. Still, sometimes he doesn’t want to be the level-headed, well-behaved example for the younger ones to emulate. Sometimes, he wants to be as crazy as his protege. The problem is, he can’t do that with them watching, he can’t when doing so jeopardizes the trust Time has in him to help keep the younger ones in line and out of danger from their own crazy exploits.

Here, he can be a bit crazy. Here, he can let loose. Here, no one can see him being a wild young man in his twenties. So, he enjoys it. He laughs and he teases and he and Shad go back and forth for the next hour or so with jabs and jests that have the others all rolling their eyes or sighing at them, stares heavy but not nearly as cold as they might appear to a onlooker.

It’s a good night all told. By the time they’re all getting up to leave, Auru’s already gone home, and Telma’s getting a start on cleaning up the bar for closing. Shad’s had a bit too much, although not enough to leave him a babbling mess, just a tired one, and Twilight and Ashei are left to shoulder the scholar and haul him back to his own home.

“I could haul him myself.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Ashei hums from where she has Shad’s other arm around her shoulders, “but we’d never hear the end of it if he found out you princess carried him down the street like a maiden.”

He sniffs. “If his pride’s that sens’tive, that’s his fault.”

Her lips twitch into a little half smile. For Ashei, that’s the equivalent of a cackle. “It’s bad enough being seen with a country boy who could crush him, being treated like a woman as well hardly helps his masculinity.”

“Again,” he chuckles, maybe slightly tipsy himself, “ain’t my fault he’s fragile.”

Dark eyes slide to stare at him, but his friend says nothing ore on the matter. There's not much more time to say anything either, since Shad lives relatively close to the bar anyways, so getting him home is hardly a lengthily journey. Getting into his place to drop him off is a bit of a mess, as Twilight does have to support the scholar long enough for Ashei to pat him down for his keys, but once she’s got them and unlocked the door, he does take the chance to sweep the smaller man up in his rms and carry him through the door, even as the swordswoman watches while shaking her head.

Once Shad’s laid in his bed, shoes off and tie loosened only because Ashei is a dear and not because of any kindness on Twilight’s part, they step back out into teh street together, pulling the once more locked door closed after them.

“He’s going to be pissed.”

He chuckles. “He can live with it.”

A gauntleted arm nudges against his, protected against impact unlike the scholar’s hand, and much stronger too. “You say that because you’ll be gone by morning and don’t have to deal with it.”

“You could be too,” he reminds her, “he’d never dare follow you up into the mountains.”

This time, the rough nudge actually makes him stumble. Maybe he is tipsy. He’s about to protest at teh rough treatment, or tease, he’s not sure exactly what it is that’s on his lips because it slips away in an instant when a soft noise, a familiar sound that is his utter weakness, sounds on the flagstones of the alley not far from him.

Ashei must see his ears prick up, face turning towards the sound, and she already knows, because one perfect brow raises with all the grace and authority of the captain. “Cat?”

His moving feet are his only answer.

She sighs. “Do you have to pet every one of those things that you see?”

“Yes.”

Despite her protests, she trails after him, watching as he peers around the alley, crouching low to find the fluffy creature. “I don’t understand why you like them so much. Aren’t you a wolf? Shouldn’t you prefer a dog’s company?”

“I can enjoy both!”

Ashei sniffs. “Dogs are better.”

He turns to her, affronted and maybe, slightly offended. “They are not!”

“You turn into a dog,” the words are flat, “shouldn’t you take that as a compliment?”

“I’m not a dog,” he sniffs, “I turn into a wolf, and I’m still me under the fur, so it’s different anyways. Most dogs don’t act like that.”

“You chase your tail.”

“I had to learn to blend in so people wouldn’t suspect anything!”

He doesn’t deign to meet the look that’s fixed on him, but he knows precisely what it is: brows raised, chin lowered, eyes flat and simply waiting for him to cave and admit she’s right. Uli pulls the same face on Rusl when he says something dumb, and he’s seen Telma do it too. He’d say it’s a woman thing, but he’s pretty sure he’s seen Warriors do it too, and Four as well, so saying that would be a very good way to get his ass kicked. Shad might be unable to do much damage, but Warriors can and has thrown his ass across the camp, and could probably do it again.

Instead of saying anything, he keeps his eyes open, ears flickering about to catch any further hint of where the critter in the alley is hiding he thinks it’s a cat, but it was a muffled and very brief sound to begin with, so all he knows for sure is that it’s something small with paws. Crouching low and clucking his tongue softly usually draws them out, but this time there are no such results. He’s almost about to give up and accept that the sweet little thing had maybe slipped away already when Ashei’s hand catches his shoulder suddenly, grip firm.

“What-”

“Look,” her other hand points down at the flagstones underfoot, “blood.”

Playfulness and excitement bleed away to a firmness he usually only takes on in battle, and he turns his attention to the spattering on the stone rather than the slight shuffling he’d thought before, although he doesn’t dismiss the noise either. “Fresh too.”

Dark eyes meet his own, a silent question.

Usually, he’s against using his crystal in public spaces, but it’s late eough at night, and in a seedy enough part of town that he doubts anyone’s lingering around the area to see, and if they are, they’re no good anyways. He shifts, fur and claws taking over in a now familiar twisting and aching. It doesn;t hurt anymore, no more than like stretching an unused muscle, and it only takes a moment to settle into the wolf’s body that’s as much his by this point as the hylian one he prefers.

“I’ll follow you.” Ashei tells him, hand drifting to her hip and the sword hanging there.

She’s ready for trouble, and he is too as he sets his nose to the ground and tries to follow the trail that is invisible to human eyes, but clear as day to him as it winds and twists around the small space they linger in. Whatever left the trail isn’t human, he knows that quickly. The scent trail springs off of walls and rubble in the streets in ways only the most skilled of fighters could achieve, and even then, likely not when injured. It’s fresh still though, like he said, so it’s not as though it fades out quickly, and it’s only a few minutes before he finds it’s end amidst some fallen crates around the corner.

Something from within the pile of discarded containers shuffles, the same slipping of paws against stone, and rapid little breathes that sound in time with a pitter pattering heart.

He shifts back. Wolf form is easier to use to track things, especially when his head is slightly fuzzy from alcohol, but for small animals, it’s not always the most welcome sight. A hylian with kind hands and gentle eyes is easier to accept in his experience.

“Here?” Ashei asks, brows raised.

He nods. “Not human.”

She relaxes. He doesn’t. Animal death isn’t anything she worries about; she’s a warrior, a fighter, if the animals die, then they do. People are her priority. He, on the other hand, would prefer to avoid any unnecessary death if he can help it. Maybe it’s because he knows what it’s like to be on both sides of the matter, but unless strictly necessary, he doesn’t care to be a witness to or cause of death.

Her hand slips from her sword and she stays back as he crouches low again, carefully shifting the crates and clucking softy. “Hey there, little ‘un. You okay?”

The air seems to go still for a moment, and somehow, he knows his voice has made the creature freeze, but a moment later, as he shifts the boxes, wary lest they suddenly shift and crush the little injured thing, it seems to settle again, and the softest little questioning ‘mrrrp?’ sounds from within.

“It’s okay,” he soothes, voice lowering, a soft rumble that rolls gently off his tongue and through his throat. Usually, it works on most animals, unless they have bad experiences with men specifically. Here, it seems to have the preferred result, and the softest brush of paws on stone touches his ears as he moves another crate.

As the wood lifts away, he nearly drops it again at the sight that lies before him.

“What’s wrong?” Ashei’s hand is moving to her sword again, likely as a result of the tension that’s jumped back into his shoulders, the way his ears have flicked back to press against his skull in horror.

He doesn't answer her. Instead he’s all but throwing the crate away and reaching into the space between splintered wood. The motions are maybe too sudden, he reminds himself belatedly, for handling an injured creature, and the flinch away from his touch drives the point home. His heart wrenches somewhat at the way long ears press back and little paws stutter against stone, violet eyes squeezing shut in a wince.

Two thoughts flicker in his head. How is Legend a rabbit, and what is he doing looking bleeding out in an alleyway as a rabbit?

“Shhhh,” he tries to soothe, “it’s jist me, jist me, okay?” His eyes flicker over bloody pink fur to dark eyes that stare up at him, shining with a fear he’s never seen from the other before as a fluffy little chest rises and falls with breathes that would be dangerously fast for a hylian, but even for a small rodent are concerning.

There’s a lot of blood, and he means a lot.

“Who did this to you?” He can’t help the soft sigh in teh words, the almost coo. Small animals are most definitely his weakness, and small injured animals, even if they’re actually grouchy teenage boys, are definitely worse. His brother just looks so breakable and delicate, and the crimson matting fur together and staining the stone is just making his heart clench up even more as he reaches out.

From behind, Ashei’s feet pad softly over, wary, but knowing her, she’d know he wouldn’t address anything threatening in that sort of voice. Still, she does recoil slightly, shock briefly flashing across her face as he manages to get a hold on his brother’s changed form, carefully lifting Legend up into his arms. “Is that a pink rabbit?” Her voice catches slightly, which is frankly impressive; she’s usually never so expressive.

He nods, and while last time Legend had protested loudly at being picked up and handled like an actual rabbit, this time the animal form of his brotehr nestles down into his arms with a soft shudder, head resting on the crook of his arm even as wary eyes lift to stare at the swordswoman who’s likewise fixed on him.

“What in Hylia’s-”

“He’s hurt bad.”

“It’s a rabbit in Castletown, are you shocked?” Reason seems to be slipping over to cover shock as she turns her eyes, flat once more, up to stare at him instead of the critter in his arms. “There’s dozens of dogs in this neighborhood, and while most have probably ever seen a rabbit before, they’re still hunters by nature.”

The words twist in his gut. Not because he hadn’t realized; he’s changes into a wolf, he knows what sorts of urges come with the canine form, and while he might laugh it off, there’s still a part of him that, when in that form, lunges at the chance to chase small things, to get his teeth into them and shake them. He’s more man than beast of course, so he doesn’t really give into it unless he’s starving for food and a hunt is truly needed, but even then, there’s still part of him that recoils at his own actions. He’s been the one hunted before though, chased and tracked and lunged for by those who’d rather use his pelt to warm their families then let him so much as walk past them in the street.

Still, as a wolf, he’s got teeth and claws to fight back, if he wanted to. The creature in his arms, his brother, doesn’t have that option. Legend's teeth and claws can barely draw blood, and by the time he’d gotten close enough to even try, a dog’s teeth would already be snapping around him before he could do anything.

His arms tighten around the shivering form in his arms. In the back of his head, he can almost hear Uli, back when he was a kid still new to Ordon, still new to trees and animals and anything that wasn’t sand and swords. He shouldn't scare little things, ever, she’d told him. She’d been holding a rabbit in her arms, one she’d somehow managed to catch while they were out having a picnic in the fields with him. He’d been in wonder of the glossy fur and tiny paws, but moving too fast, too harsh, and it was hiding it’s head in her arms to avoid him. ‘They’re not made to handle scary things,” she’d murmured to himself and an equally awed Colin, who was only three at the time. ‘their little hearts might explode if you scare them too much.’

It’s slightly an irrational fear, considering Legend isn’t actually a rabbit, just transformed into one, but the words still ring in his head as he cradles the broken little body in his hold.

Ashei’s stare is blank as it turns back to his little charge, lips twitching downwards briefly. “You’d be better off putting it out of its misery, Link. It can’t survive here, and you can’t take it with you.”

The very idea makes his stomach, heart skipping up into his throat as he recoils from his friend, body shifting by instinct alone to shield his little brother from her cold stare and colder words. “No!”

“Link...”

“He’s not just a rabbit!”

“How much were you drinking?”

The implication hurts a bit. He can hold his alcohol better than that, and he hadn’t had very much at all. He knows better! He knows Sky would have words for him if he came back drunk, especially after the trouble they’ve been having with keeping certain heroes sober. “No, I’m serious! He's....” the words slip outr of his head for a moment as he turns his gaze down to dark eyes that are squeezed closed in pain. “He’s...”

“I’m not a rabbit.”

He’s never seen Ashei’s eyes widen that much in his life, nor her move so quickly, sword half drawn and feet scrabbling back in shock at the fact that rabbit in his arms just spoke.

“He’s like me,” he tries, soothing one hand down blood matted fur, and realizing at the same time that he should probably do something about the damage done to the vet.

“A shifter?”

“A hero,” he corrects, attention now on finding the source of the blood. “And yes, he transforms when exposed to dark magic.”

“Can he turn back on his own?” She moves closer, apparently assured by his words, even though her eyes are still fixed on the pink rabbit that can talk, likely wondering how much more insane her night is going to get.

Twilight shakes his head. “Not without a source of light magic.”

“But you-”

“I have control over the crystal, and practice. He’s...different.”

There, he’s found it, the source of the blood. His heart twists up more, somehow, when he identifies the familiar marks left by sharp teeth. It could be his own work if it was a size or two bigger, and that particular thought has his stomach lurching yet again. There’s more bites than one too, and one paw seems to have been crushed, hanging oddly and when he jostles it there’s a bitten off cry of pain from his brother’s altered form.

“He doesn’t look good.” Ashei states grimly, ow crouched at his side and staring intently at the injuries and violet eyes that squeeze closed as rapid little breathes shake the tiny body in his hold.

She’s right. “Is there some sorta animal doc ‘round here?”

Raised brows. “We aren’t a country town, Link.”

“But even city folk have horses and shit, right?”

Ashei frowns, gaze slipping free of his own. “Horses, yes, but smaller creatures-”

“What about Agitha?”

A flat look. “She’s a child, and her interest is insects.”

“Small beings that she believes are magic,” he corrects, already shifting to his feet, cradling the fluffy form in his arms with all the care he’d use with Uli’s littlest. Legend doesn’t protest the movements either, although that might just be because he’s in too much pain to do so. “A talking pink rabbit is going to make her night.”

Following his lead, the swordswoman stands, dusting herself off with a little sigh. “It’s worth a shot, I suppose.”

The path to the self-proclaimed princess’s house is a short one, which is the main cause of his choice to see her, that and, like he said, her love of small magical beings. A rabbit and a butterfly are very, very different, but he’s counting on the quirky nature of the girl to overrule that logic like it does with most things. Sure, putting his hopes on a twelve-year-old with questionable logic isn’t maybe the best choice he’s made in his life, but considering he took the advice of a warrior killed in battle on how to beat Gannon, no one can exactly argue that his logic is sound either.

If anything, Agitha is awake, and when Ashei knocks at the door, it swings open quickly, revealing swinging pigtails and a bright smile that’s just slightly off-putting. “Ah, brave knight! You’ve returned!”

The look Ashei levels him with could probably kill a lesser man.

The bug princess swings the door open wide, smile even wider as she cocks her head on one side. “Welcome! The Princess of Bigs is happy to let you enter her kingdom!”

“Thank you,” he bows his head slightly. The best course of action here is to play along. He’s not sure why Agitha is like this, but going along with her game doesn't hurt anyone, even if it used to drive Midna crazy. Still, she’s a kid, and he’s used to kids, good with them too. “I come seeking the princess’s help.”

“A knight needing help from a princess? How queer!” She giggles into her hand, but then stops. It’s like her whole person stalls for a moment, eyes falling on the bundle of pink in his arms. “Oh my, what’s this you’ve brought here?”

He exchanges a look with Ashei, and in return, she just stares.

“This is an enchanted warrior,” he tells the girl, “he’s been cursed into this form, and injured badly. We thought, since you are princess of the creatures of the small kingdoms, that maybe you might be able to aid him, even if he isn’t one of your subjects.”

He can feel the groan building up from his companion, but she doesn’t release it, thankfully. Agitha probably wouldn’t notice if she had though, gliding forwards slowly with features pinched up into an honestly adorable pout. “Oh, the poor, poor little warrior!” She coos. “Yes, I am not princess of the mammal world, but I do not have a heart of stone. Here,” her arms are thrust out, open and waiting, “allow the Princess to help him!”

He’s more hesitant than he’d like when handing over the vet’s beaten form, but Agitha handles him with surprising care, shushing and cooing as she strokes back long ears, whisking around to head off deeper into the room. Twilight trails after, leaving Ashei at the door, as the woman does not appear to be at all interested in plunging further into the insect castle. He’s cautious with where he puts his feet and keeps his distance, also wary of his surroundings. Meanwhile, Agitha lays the vet’s rabbit form on a tabletop and, with quick kiss to the brow that would be very ill advised considering the blood there, she darts off to grab something from one of the many nooks and crannies about the room.

It’s honestly impressive, considering her age and the general doubts he has for her sanity, how efficient the insect princess handles the injuries presented to her. She shows little worry for the blood that gets on her dress and many accessories, humming softly to herself as she set bones with ease that’s almost scary and binds up wounds with care that he’d almost mistake for the skill of an actual healer. Once she’s done though, she’s scooping up Legend’s little body and settling him back in Twilight’s arms, a smile on her face as she winks up at him, one finger pressed to her cheek with a coy little smile

“Lucky for you, Mister Captain Hero taught me a thing or two on treating wounds! He’s all fixed now! Make sure to let him rest and give him lots too eat, okay? And lots of pets!” She claps her now blood stained hands, smile still shining. “He’s such a darling thing! He deserves all the pets in the world! Oh, I wish you could pet bugs, but there’s so little of them to pet, and butterflies die if you pet them...”

His smile is stilted, but he manages to bob his head in thanks all the same. “Thank you, princess.”

“Of course, brave knight,” he’s answered with a charming smile and a little curtsy, one that leaves bloody fingerprints on pink skirts. “If ever you find another such wounded warrior of the magical world, do bring them here. Princess Agitha will take care of them!”

Ashei hurries them out the door before ‘Princess Agitha’ can say much more than that. Honestly, he’s thankful. She’s not a bd kid, but she’s kind of off-putting if he’s being honest. Legend’s face buried in his arms indicates that he too finds the girl somewhat off-putting, even if he hadn’t spoken at all since they alley.

“That child is insane.” Ashei pronounces once they’re safely away again.

It’s strained, but he finds himself laughing slightly, hand dragging over long ears as he walks and resisting, strongly, the urge to rub his face into long fur. “Yeah, prob’bly.”

A side glance is fixed on him, feet not stopping on the well known path back past the bar. “Will you be going back to your inn now?”

He nods, glancing down to find Legend is staring up at him as well, gaze hazy from either pain or exhaustion, he’s not sure. “Yeah. It’s pretty late, an’ i still need to get him changed back before the others realize he’s missin’.” And then, as an after thought, he adds, “I know the way back.”

“You had a bit to drink.”

“Ashei,” he laughs, strained, “no one’s gonna try anything on swordsman wearing wolf’s pelt, not if they have an ounce of sense! ‘Sides, it’s not far off.”

Her stare is heavy.

“I’m fine. If anythin’ as the man here, I ought to be offerin’ to walk you home!”

Weight is nothing in comparison to the sharpness in those eyes. “Watch it, Ordon.”

“Yes, miss.”

She shakes her head, dark hair somehow not so much as swishing with the motion. “Have a good night.” And then she’s heading off, not even bothering to wait around for his echo of her farewell and instead disappearing around a corner up ahead, pace faster than his own as he tries to keep steady and not jostle the brother in his hold. With her gone though, it’s just Legend and himself, violet eyes truned up to stare blearily up at him.

“We are gonn talk about this later,” he warns, even as he sets off towards the inn again.

Legend shifts, ears flicking slightly in answer, but he doesn’t talk. If anything, the rabbit in his arms curls in tighter, defensive.

“I’m not mad,” he’s quick to assure, foddling long ears gently, “but you scared me there, vet.”

Still no answer. He resigns himself to silence as his feet carry the two of them down the mostly quiet streets of Castletown and back to the inn, one hand still running through silky fur, careful not to catch on where it’s still matted with blood.

“Here’s hoping Sky doesn’t have our heads for wakin’ him.” He sighs as they come to the door, and he has to stop his petting of pink fur to push it open. “Hopefully the rest are also asleep, cuz I ain’t got an answer for any of this.”

The rabbit in his arms snorts, but th head that’s been lolling into the crook of his arm raises to butt against him gently. It startles him.

So many years ago, Uli said that was how rabbits indicate affection, or ask for more pets. Good grief, how out of it is Legend: Mister-Don't-Touch-Me-I-Will-Bite-You? There’s no way to know though, but he doesn't look a gift bunny in the mouth, and he’s only too happy to continue his petting as he takes the stairs up to their room, nodding briefly to the wide eyed inn-keeper as he goes.

Tomorrow, he will have to ask Legend what happened. Tomorrow, he will have to adopt being a good, responsile big brotehr who gets to the bottom of things, but for tonight, he’s simply content to try and turn his brother back to a hylian, get a potion down his throat, and head to bed, leaving the adult stuff to future Twilight. That’s easy enough too. Sky has questions, but is too tired to slur through them, and while feeding the vet a potion is hard with the other slumping against him so heavily, but they manage. They manage and then he’s slumping himself back into the bed left open for him. He sort of expects Legend to slip away after, but belatedly, he realizes that’s just impossible. Maybe it was the petting, since he’s been there and he gets how much it turns his muscles into jelly, but pink hair hits his chest the moment his back has settled into the mattress, and the hand that catches in the front of his tunic further cements that Legend isn’t going anywhere.

Ah well, if Legend’s going to take up space in his bed, he reserves the right to keep running his hands through fluffy pink. If Legend doesn’t tell him to stop, he won’t. The vet doesn’t eitehr, just hums softly, curling in on himself and nestling into his side with a soft sigh that would almost, almost fool him into thinking his brother was still in his beast form.

Tomorrow will be interesting. Explaining the blood on their clothes, where they’d been, and all else won’t be fun. But for tonight they can have a little more peace. The scare is over, and Twilight’s free for just a little bit more. And hey, the brief panic was worth it, especially considering he’s getting cuddles out of the deal!

#asks and answers #linked universe #linkeduniverse #febuwhump2024 #febuwhump #ketto writes #lu twilight #lu legend #ashei tp #shad tp #telma tp #auru tp #twilight princess resistance

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cosmereplay · 3 months

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Day 4: Doomed by the narrative

Rated Teen, Veil & Tyn, RoW spoilers

“Where am I?” Veil asked. One minute, she'd been asking Shallan if she had done well, and the next, she'd found herself fading…and now, she was at a darkeyes tavern?

She stepped forward tentatively, looking around. The other people seemed…indistinct, except for one person sitting at the bar who looked deeply familiar, despite the fact that Veil had never met her.

They could never have met, because it was the woman whose manner, fashion, and history Veil had stolen whole cloth.

The woman glanced down and to the side, tilting her ear towards Veil as if she could hear Veil’s thoughts.

“You gonna come join me, Veil?” Tyn asked. “Always room for one more in the Tranquilline Halls.”

“You’re not even Vorin,” Veil chuckled as she sat beside her, her confusion drowned in the sheer excitement of meeting the mentor she’d never actually met. “Am I dead?” she asked, as Tyn gestured to the barkeep for a round of Horneater White. “How do you know me?”

Tyn offered a cheers. “First, to the woman who finally killed me,” she said with an easy smile. She didn’t seem to have taken it too badly.

“To Shallan Davar.” They clinked glasses, and Veil drank her small cup in one go. It didn’t even burn going down. It just warmed her belly, leaving her feeling as indistinct as the rest of the tavern looked. She shook her head, as if to shake off the fuzziness.

“What a woman. I had no idea what I was getting into when I met her.” Tyn smiled again, looking Veil up and down. “She really liked the outfit, huh?”

“She liked a lot about you,” Veil said, and spun her empty glass on the bartop at what looked like an impossible angle. The trick was simply to do it confidently. “Because of you, I could do what she felt she couldn’t do. I had the skills she didn’t have, or didn’t want to have. Because of you, I was free in a way she thought she couldn’t be.”

Tyn narrowed her eyes. “She even took my advice about blending in as a darkeyes. I like that. You know, I’ve been watching ever since she ran me through with that storming Blade.”

The idea that she’d been watching them brought up some acutely embarrassing memories, and Veil winced. “Even in Kholinar?”

Tyn laughed, loudly and freely. “Yeah. You two were a piece of work out there. Nah, I'm remembering that cursed place with the beads.”

“Shadesmar?”

“Yeah. And your time at the tower city. You earned that hat and coat, girl, the way you can flip those cards. The way you can talk yourself out of trouble. You earned your reputation. You were based on me, Veil, but you grew out of me. You did things I was never capable of. Putting someone else first. Loving someone. Protecting them. After a while, I realized I was rooting for you. I want you to know that. You were…” She wiped her eye. “Storms, you’re the closest thing I ever had to a daughter. I…”

“You don’t have to say it.” Veil’s breath caught between embarrassment and longing.

“No, don’t you see?” Tyn said. “That’s why I’m still here, hanging on. I have to say it. I was a conwoman all my life. This is my last chance to say something honest in this Heralds-forsaken life.”

Tyn reached out, taking Veil’s freehand in her uncovered safehand. She had stayed behind for her. For Veil. The touch was intimate in a way Veil had never known, and it moved her deeply.

“You did good, kid.” She squeezed Veil’s hand, and Veil squeezed back, treasuring the warmth of it. She reimagined those same worst moments knowing that Tyn, her never-mentor, had been cheering her on. Her throat swelled with emotion, and she could feel her eyes watering.

She looked up to find Tyn’s eyes were also sparkling with barely-suppressed emotion. They both quickly looked away, wiping their eyes in a symmetrical series of motions.

Veil ordered the next round, and lifted her cup. “To learning from the best.”

“If I’d been the best I wouldn’t have gotten stabbed by a seventeen-year-old,” Tyn laughed.

Veil grinned. “Fine. To the woman I tried to become.”

The older woman lifted her cup. “And to the woman you actually became.”

They clinked their cups, then drank. Veil felt this one hit harder. She started to feel a bit dizzy, disoriented. The tavern around them started to swirl and fade. “I am dead, aren’t I?” she said, half in awe. The air seemed to sparkle with an electric energy.

“No, just me. It’s my time now,” Tyn said. She had stood, and she leaned back against the bar casually, looking upwards as the scene faded into a soft, warm light. “Go back to Shallan, kid. Things’ll be different, sure, but that’s life, and you’ve got a lot more living to do.”

The light brightened until Veil couldn’t see Tyn anymore. “Goodbye,” she whispered, as finally, she felt herself floating in the back of Shallan’s mind again. She stepped forward, feeling her former consciousness fade and change into a bright new awareness.

She had done well.

"Yes," Shallan whispered. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

#minifemslashfeb2024 #cosmere femslash february #veil/tyn #veil x tyn #veil stormlight #shallan davar #tyn stormlight #stormlight fanfic #rhythm of war #row spoilers

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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 3 months

Text

Home Pt.2 || cbf!Simon "Ghost" Riley

Rating: M Words: 2K Pairing: cbf!Simonxafab!reader / teen!Simonxteen!Reader Summary: Teen Simon and his best friend often spend their nights away from their respective houses because they found a home in each other… CW: child abuse (toward reader - REFERENCED), physical injuries, violence (REFERENCED), military enlistment references (NOT PROPAGANDA), crying. Tags: you/your pronouns, fluff, ANGST, teen romance, teenage rebellion, British slang (attempted), poverty, Simon Riley’s family (mentioned), Reader's family. a/n: This one made me cry y'all. Also, wrote this instead of eating dinner. On AO3 this fic is ✨doing numbers✨ (per my standards).

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“I’m here, I’m here.” Simon said as he pressed a tall beer tin against the bruise on your cheek and temple area. It was basically piss in a can, but it was cold, and God knows you needed that against your warm, throbbing bruise.

Your eyes were so beyond cloudy with tears, you couldn’t even see a foot in front of you. Hell, you couldn’t see him and his pretty face. The only reason you knew he was there was his constant reassuring words and his warm breath on your face, scented of nicotine.

He was glad you couldn’t see him, because if you did, you’d see the wince in his face and the way he struggled to straighten his left hand to cup your cheek with a gentle touch while his right hand held the drink tin to your wound.

A couple of his left fingers were definitely broken. Should he be going to A&E right now and getting his hand checked out? Probably. Was he going to? Absolutely not. Not unless it was to drive you there. The bruise on your face was swelling nastily, your skin not used to taking a beating. Not like his was.

“You’re alright… Don’t cry, darlin’, you’re alright…” Simon kept trying to calm you down while he did his best to caress your face with a gentle, hurt hand. “You’re alright, pet…” He kept cooing at you. But you just kept wailing.

As usual, Simon had come to get you at 9 P.M. You only lived a couple of streets over and he never let you walk the distance. Not after dark; it wasn’t safe. It already wasn’t safe during the day, but at night it was so much worse. But this time… Oh, how he blamed himself. Maybe if you had walked to him, you would’ve escaped this mess.

He had shown up to see you waiting up the street, rather than at your door. Weird.

He slowed his dad’s Clio to a careful idle which he held with his foot on the clutch and the other on the brake pedal. He stretched over the center console to pop open the door from the inside, as he usually did, but you beat him to it, opening it from the outside. Weirder.

You weren’t cheerful as you slunk into the passenger seat and slammed the door shut, sulking quietly in your seat. Weirder x2.

Suspicious of your behaviour, he clicked on the overhead lighting of the car… And the sight he got of your face filled him with a rage he didn’t know he could ever feel. The throbbing bruise on your temple: swollen, red and still hot to the bloody touch… And the way you looked at him, brows furrowed, watery eyes, nose dripping, lips set into a frown so tight that your chin scrunched up with wrinkles…

It all had him seeing red.

“What happened?” He demanded, his voice hostile, but not toward you, but regarding whoever did that to you. You couldn’t answer. You broke into wails, fat tears streaming down your face.

And he didn’t need words to know. Your crying did all the talking.

It didn’t matter that you were fifteen. Every innocent kid who gets beaten beyond a simple spanking or belt whooping to the arse has the same reaction, regardless of age: They cry and scream. The pain is unlike any they’ve ever experienced before. It’s the mix of taking a punch to a tender temple/cheek that has never known violence, and of seeing your father’s face on the other side of the fist… That’s what does it.

Simon pulled up the handbrake with more aggression than he meant to, the car stuttered with his motion. He turned it off and threw open the driver’s side door, tossing his legs out and exiting the car.

“Riley!” He heard you call after him, your voice choked up, as he marched up the street to the brick-front house you live in. He could hear your hurried footsteps after him and you were able to grab his arm to stop him for a second.

He looked back at you with an unbridled level of very poorly-contained fury in his brown eyes. He softened a bit when he saw your crying face again, but then, his eyes were once more drawn to the now bruise that you sported on the left-side of your face. You now had a matching bruise to his… Something he never wanted you to ever know. And that only renewed his rage.

Simon grabbed you by the shoulders and made you sit on the side of the road. He hurried at shrugging off his parka and tossing it over your shoulders, his hands guiding your own arms into the warmth of the thick sleeves, and fixing the faux fur-lined hood to sit a bit more flush to your neck.

He wanted you warm. He wanted you warm and safe and healed. And right now you were only two our of three. And he couldn’t provide the third one. But he’d provide something better.

“Stay here.” He demanded, his voice freezing you onto the pavement where he sat you. You brought your knees to your chest, still sobbing in pain.

You looked back at him and watched as he made himself as big as he could, his shoulders squared as hard as they could be, and his chest puffed up, all while he was pounding a fist on your front door with one hand while the other pressed the doorbell repeatedly.

Even at 16, Simon was already much taller than most grown men in the area, and certainly taller than his drunk and druggie of a father. It’s no wonder the old bastard now thinks twice before raising his hand at Simon, not that that stops him from trying to throw his weight around with his wife and even Tommy. That’s why Simon still finds himself covered in bruises that never quite heal before he’s getting new ones.

When the door opens, your mother is on the other side, trying her best to cover her own face as well. Poor lady is just as battered as you, the testament of a night where her husband finally lost it. She has to look up at Simon, just like you do, his height imposing abover hers. Her face looking paled and afraid.

It’s not like she doesn’t know you have a “boyfriend”. She’s covered for you many times when you snuck out to be with him, has seen him drop you off late at night plenty of times, especially when she was worried about what you were up to… Long before she noticed that you were just being teens and never in any real danger.

In fact, she knows Simon quite well. Even from before you became whatever it is you are now, he used to stand at your door, at 8 A.M. every weekend, waiting for you, so you could go out and ‘play’ around the neighborhood. She had waved you two off plenty of times with a reminder to be home for dinner.

But she’s never seen Simon quite this way before. Hell, neither have you. But the look in his eyes told her she should just stand aside and let it happen. And so, she did… simply using her head to wordlessly point out that her good-for-nothing husband was upstairs in the bedroom. The teen boy gave her a curt nod as he marched upstairs.

Your father was shorter than him and fat. He was also drunk. The moment he entered the bedroom, the old bum had struggled to even roll up from the bed where he was watching footie on an old box TV. He shouted at the unknown teen in his home… trying to be intimidating. But he couldn’t do shit against Simon’s rage, didn’t even stand a chance.

The violence he impinged on your sleazy father that night had come surprisingly easily to him. It was like an itch he finally got to scratch, releasing years of pent-up aggression onto a man that was an almost direct copy of his own father (minus the drug abuse).

That was the first night the ‘Ghost’ ever came out.

By the time Simon came back out the door, his knuckles were bruised to shit, and covered in blood, his left hand in so much pain that he knew he’d broken a couple fingers. He had taken one of your father’s cold, cheap beers from your fridge to use as an ice pack for you, your mum having told him she didn’t have any frozen ice in the freezer.

He sat by your side in the pavement, his hands holding your face and icing your bruise the best he could as he whispered reassuring words at you while you cried all you needed to. Then, his words turned from reassurance to promises. None of them empty.

“We’ll get out of here, lovie.” He promises you. “I’ll get us out of here.” He kept repeating while he wrapped his arms around you and kissed your forehead with chapped lips while you sobbed against his chest.

“How…?” You asked him, your lip trembling as you resist falling into another sobbing session on his chest, your head craning up to look him in the eyes. “We’re both skint…” You choked out.

“I’ll find a way.” Simon said as he rubbed his busted hands through your hair, the best he could, trying not to wince and grunt at the pain in his broken fingers. “I’ll… I’ll join the military if I have to.”

“Simon…” You said in a hush, your eyes already welling up with tears. It felt bizarre to say his actual name, almost as bizarre as hearing him talk about enlisting.

“I’m serious, darlin’.” The blond lad tells you as he looks down at your eyes, his brow furrowed a bit as he once again takes in the size of your bruise. “The recruiters came to my secondary a month ago… I nabbed one of their sign-up sheets… Just in case.” He explains as he rubs your hair.

“It’s just… three months.” He assures you. “Basic Training is super quick and I’ll start getting paid from the start.” He says. He doesn’t seem excited, despite the fact he’s trying to convince you of how good it’ll be.

You’re not excited about the idea. What if he gets sent out to foreign land? What if he dies? What if…

“I’ll start to save up. I’ll send you money every month… And as soon as you graduate secondary next June, I’ll rent out a flat down in wherever I end up, really… and I’ll get you out of here… And you’ll come stay with me!” He assures you with the most confident in himself that you’ve ever heard him have.

“Simon…” You whine a bit as your eyes well up with more tears. The idea of living with him, just the two of you, away from all this, it sounds so nice… The peace you’d get.

“I’ll call all the time, I’ll write, I’ll come visit when I can, and I’ll pay for you to go visit too when you’re on school holiday.” He keeps promising.

“It’s going to be just you and me, lovie.” He assures you as he presses loving kisses to your mouth. “I’ll get you out. I’ll get you to safety.” He continues, his own eyes softening with tears. “Okay?” He asks you.

Your eyes are still watery and your bruise hurts, but you see the look in his eyes, and the promise of peace and quiet and a life of love and affection by his side makes the fire in your heart burn just a little bit brighter.

You wanted to tell him you love him. He wanted to say it too. But neither of you do. It’s not the time. Or maybe it’s the fear.

So instead, you find yourself returning a sheepish “Okay.”

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#ikea writes 💚#home cbf!simon fic #cod fanfic #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #cbf #childhood best friends to lovers #teenage love #cod au #masterlist #fluff #angst

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sixeyescurseuser · 24 days

Text

Thinking about Curse Geto inspired by Medusa, where he has snakes for hair and will turn people to stone if they make eye contact.

Back in ancient times, Geto was a sorcerer from a prominent clan. He was the middle child of ten siblings and was on the quieter side. It wasn’t until he got his technique at eight years old that his family noticed him - and not in a good way.

Geto was powerful, and progressed at a rate that was envied by others of his clan. While they had the same technique - something along the lines of sound/air manipulation - Geto was still stronger than all of them.

By his teens, Geto had an ever-piling mountain of responsibilities. Only valued for his abilities, and abused for them too. There was a lot of pressure…and constant noise. All day and all night, Geto heard every single sound: one of his relatives crying, or fighting, singing or screaming

So. Much. Noise.

And no one bothered checking in on him.

He despised them.

Geto planned to escape but his clan would never allow that. In his attempt to run away, Geto’s clan managed to overwhelm his senses and kill him.

In the end, the ugly feelings of resentment and hatred consumed him. This was also an era where no one knew that sorcerers could become curses if they didn’t receive a proper burial; therefore, his body wasn’t properly disposed of either.

That’s how Geto became a curse who found his peace and silence by turning people to stone with one simple glance.

This was Geto’s fate.

***

Three centuries later, Geto has left behind the days of him rampaging and killing humans left and right. He’s a changed curse!

He doesn’t want to kill anymore, but the humans keep bothering him! They spread horror stories where he dwells, meaning many impulsive kids and teens cross his territory on stupid dares, and well Geto has to kill them now, doesn't he?

Geto is very protective of his territory.

***

Geto had always wanted a friend though.

Being a curse was lonely.

Geto’s snakes are the only company he has.

Though some days, they drag him down like an oversized crown. They are his true cursed nature, after all - one that Geto constantly fights.

His bloodthirsty babies will whisper to go to the village and turn it all to stone.

You know you want to, the snakes hiss.

Humans are nasty creatures. They have it coming, they repeat.

Imagine how energized you’ll feel after.

Geto can’t deny any of it.

***

The universe sends Geto (now a special grade curse) his first friend in the form of a 190cm human sorcerer with albino-white hair and white bandages secured around his eyes.

Oh yeah, did he mention this sorcerer was sent to exorcize him?

But Geto is like “NOT TODAY” and flees the scene.

Not that that accomplishes anything. This sorcerer - Gojo Satoru - is definitely following Geto’s cursed energy traces, exorcizing other lesser curses while he’s at it.

Gojo is probably following a random statue here and there leftover from Geto’s accidents. See, Geto can't see with his eyes closed, so if people end up crossing his path…

Well, it can’t be helped. Not with Gojo hot on his trail.

Then, Geto will think he’s safe, wiping the sweat off his forehead when a flower appears into his vision. Gojo is sitting right next to him, holding the flower out like an offering.

“Hi.”

Geto shrieks and runs away.

***

It seems Gojo is flirting throughout this chase.

Geto must show no signs of weakness and outrun this madness!

***

Gojo has cornered Geto once again. The layers of white bandages are no match for Six Eyes, since Gojo comments about how pretty Geto looks.

“What?!? I- what?” Geto exclaims, too shocked to move away. Gojo places a hand on his cocked hip.

“What? No one’s told you look beautiful before?” he asks.

“…No,” Geto says. “Usually, the last thing people get to say- er, do, before they turn into stone is scream.”

“Oh…well that checks out.”

Geto’s eyebrow twitches.

Gojo continues on to say, “Your beauty is just too stunning!”

Geto is dumbfounded. And maybe a little touched. Are his cheeks heating up? Impossible, this form of his should be incapable of expressing human emotions and reactions.

To blush at such a comment…Geto must have more dignity than this.

***

One day later, Geto is sprinting through the forest while Gojo hollers behind him: “You know, you’re super boring. But at least pay attention to me!”

***

The next day, Geto weaves through the crowds on the street while announcing to people who can see curses, “DON’T LOOK AT ME!”

Gojo cackles as he trails after Geto.

***

To think Geto was a curse born from negative feelings of overstimulation, while Gojo wears a blindfold to not get overstimulated. They’re truly a match made in heaven.

Gojo quickly finds out that Geto isn’t malicious by any means. It’s just…he keeps accidentally killing people. 😭

For Geto, every day is a fucking struggle. After centuries passed, suddenly the silence wasn’t so good anymore. And it’s not even full silence since his snakes constantly hiss in his ears.

The big cities are overcrowded, and he’d stand out too much in the suburbs. Geto should really escape to the countryside.

It’s also a pain to run away from Gojo because that fool makes almost no sound when he moves.

Fortunately, Gojo has stopped claiming he’s giving chase under the pretense that he’s hunting Geto down.

That’s progress, right?

***

And maybe, Geto begins to look forward to Gojo’s visits.

Just a little.

***

w/ @no-one-says-hi

***

part 2

#jjk #satosugu #geto suguru #gojo satoru #satosugu fluff #satosugu canon divergence #satosugu fanfic #goge #curse Geto #sorcerer Gojo #TBC #cerdrabbles

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rorywritesjunk · 5 months

Text

I can’t tell where the journey will end But I know where to start

Prequel to my Kid Buggy fic, set about 11-ish years before that story.

Buggy meets you by chance when he needs his buttons sewn back onto his jacket. He’s young, up and coming, and he thinks everyone should cower before him wherever he goes, but all you do is smile at him.

Rating: PG-13ish just for some swearing. Warning: Buggy’s in his early 20s. He’s an asshole. He just is because I wanted to write him loud, demanding, everything. There’s 3 new characters thrown in because why not? Future Wife gets a name as well! A/N: I have no idea when Buggy became a Captain, so he’s a fresh faced captain in this. No clue how long this fic will be. I just started on the 4th chapter but I’m excited to write it out! I had fun with the original fic and decided to write the prequel to how they met. Enjoy! Also I wish every customer was like Buggy in that "I'm going to be an asshole but I'm going to overpay you for the opportunity to be an asshole".

Title comes from “Wake Me Up” by Avicii. TAGLIST: @lostfirefly @ane5e @kingofthemfingpirates @the-angriest-angel @tiredemomama @valen-yamyam16 @i-reblog-fics-i-like @plethora-of-fickleness

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6 + Chapter 7 + Chapter 8 + Chapter 9 + Chapter 10 + Chapter 11 + Chapter 12 + Chapter 13 + Chapter 14 + Chapter 15 + Chapter 16 + Chapter 17 + Chapter 18 + Epilogue

Chapter 2

It was five weeks until you saw that pirate again. You were at the counter while the girls were in the back working. Your boss was gone on an errand, leaving you in charge. This time he opened the door with a little less force than last time but the door still swung open and hit the wall. You looked up from your book and smiled when you saw him.

His coat had a tear at the sleeve where it connected to the shoulder and one cuff was nearly coming off. It looked like he got into a scuffle while wearing it. He was scowling as he stormed up to the counter, removing the coat and holding it out to you. You took it from him and looked it over with a frown.

“What happened?” You asked as you inspected the tear at the sleeve. “Did you get into a fight?”

You obviously chose to ignore what your boss had told you every day since he first showed up. Do not help him if he comes back. How could you not fix his coat up when it was in such a state? Not only were there tears in it, you saw the dirt staining the bottom and some blood on the front. You quickly gave him a look over, seeing that he appeared uninjured thankfully. You didn’t want to explain why there was a bloody and injured pirate in the shop if your boss returned early.

“Fix it.” He said, refusing to look at you.

“Do you need help? Are you injured at all, Captain?” You asked as you reached over the counter to touch one of his gloved hands. Buggy jerked his hand away from you and crossed his arms, shaking his head quickly.

“I’m fine!” He snapped. “I just need it fixed!”

“Can you give me some time?” You asked as you draped the coat over your arm. “I’d like you to wait here in case I need to see you in it.”

You saw his face turn red at those words but you didn’t know why. All you needed to see was that the seams on the sleeve were correct once you mended them, to make sure it still fit him in the shoulders when he moved in it. He glared at you before storming out of the shop.

“He came back.”

You turned to see the two teens peeking through the doorway to the back. You sighed softly and smiled. “He did and he gave me his coat to fix.”

“Miss Pins said not to help him.” Livia said as Edith nodded in agreement. You shrugged as you headed towards them.

“Well, I’m in charge right now so I get to decide who we help.” You told them. “Now, who remembers how to get blood stains out? I’ll do the mending but I’d like you two to clean it, okay? This will be good practice.”

Buggy returned two hours later. You were at the counter again with Livia, showing her the books and how customers and payments were tracked. The teenager ducked beside you when he came in but you just smiled. Why did you smile whenever you saw him? Buggy wasn’t sure what your game was but he was suspicious of you already. You should be quaking in fear when he arrived, not smiling like you were friends with him.

“Your coat is ready.” You told him as you nudged Livia to go retrieve it. “I got it stitched up and the girls cleaned it. Can I see it on you?”

“W-Why?” He demanded as he narrowed his eyes. Livia came out with the coat and started to leave but you stopped her. “What do you want me to do?”

“I need to make sure it fits you in your shoulders.” You told him as you took the coat from her and approached him. He took a step away from you but you held it out to him, and after a minute long stare down he finally pulled the coat on. You stood behind him as he made sure the fit felt good, and you put your hands on his shoulders again, smoothing out any creases and looking to see how it fit him. “Now, see, Livia, we want to make sure he has movement in his arms when he wears it, which is why I didn’t go in so far with my stitches when I repaired it.”

Buggy turned around to face you, scowling already, but you took his arm gently and lifted it up, showing her the cuff you reattached. “And see, you don’t even notice that this was hanging by a thread when he brought it in. I made sure to re-enforce this cuff as well as the other to ensure he wouldn’t have any issue.”

Livia stayed by your side, nodding along with what you said as she tried not to look at Buggy. How could she not stare at the bright red nose on his face? She wanted to ask if it was real, and did it honk if he squeezed it? Occasionally her eyes would go to his face while you talked about cleaning the stains and the best way to handle blood, but she really tried hard not to stare.

It was difficult and when she looked up at him one more time, he caught her looking and glared at her. She took a step back and ducked behind you as he opened his mouth to say something not nice to her.

“I’ll only bill you for what we did, but honestly it won’t cost much because you overpaid last time.” Your voice brought him back to you and he frowned. “So let us write that bill up real quick.”

He clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes. “No, I’ll… pay the amount I owe.”

“Oh, but last time-”

“I’ll pay you what I owe.” He snapped as he reached into his pocket and slammed the berry down on the counter. He didn’t wait for the bill, instead storming out of the shop once again. You collected the payment and counted it out again, shaking his head. He kept paying too much and you were wondering if you should open a line of credit for him if he came back.

The girls did not like Buggy. They thought he was loud, rude, and too angry. Your boss still wanted you to refuse service to him if he ever showed his face again but you didn't find him to be a problem. He came back two weeks later to the shop while it was just you, coat draped over his arm with the scowl forever etched on his face, though not as intense as usual. You smiled at him when you saw him and he tried not to look at you as he held it out to you.

“What happened now?” You asked as you took it from him and placed it on a hanger. You hung it from a book on the wall and began to look for any rips or missing buttons. Buggy crossed his arms, still not looking at you. “Captain?”

“There are threads that are too long.” He grumbled. “I need them trimmed.”

“Oh.” That was a bit of an odd request. “Can you show me where?”

He came around to you, pointing out where the thread tails were. You grabbed your little scissors and trimmed them as short as you could; some were less than a quarter of an inch long, but if he wanted it done then you would do it. You took time looking for any other imperfections, noting that the lining was still intact from where you had repaired it the first time, and the shoulder and cuff repairs were still holding strong. One button at the top of his coat looked like it may come undone in the near future, so you ducked into the back to grab a needle and thread to repair it.

Buggy remained quiet as he watched you work. You were quick to remove the button and old thread, wanting to make sure there was no risk of the button snagging and falling off. Every repair on his coat meant one less chance for him to stop by. Being a captain, you were certain he was busy, and that making time to try and get his clothes fixed would eat up valuable time, so you wanted to make sure he wouldn’t need to return any time soon.

Once you finished, you held his coat out to him and smiled. “Can you try it on for me?”

“Why?” He replied as he did as you asked. Might as well since you ask him every time he’s come in so far. You stepped forward and made sure the collar laid flat before you buttoned the top button of his coat.

“I want to make sure it looks good on you.” You told him as you made sure the fit looked good. “I’m almost done with my apprenticeship and I was taught to make sure the customer was happy.”

Buggy frowned. “Why aren’t you scared of me?”

“Am I supposed to be?” You asked as you finished with the buttons and straightened up, looking him over. “It looks good on you.” Smiling, you gave him a thumbs up. “Orange is a great color on you, Captain Buggy.”

He didn’t want to but he couldn’t help it. His cheeks burned at your compliments because he knew it was your job to tell him that. You said this to every customer, paid attention to all their details as well, so why was he feeling flustered just from this interaction with you? He didn’t even know your name but this was his third time stopping in for your help in the shop. He needed to sail away and never come back at this point. He didn’t want to see you if it was going to mean he blushed and his heart started racing, but at the same time, you had been nothing but kind to him. It was a little hard to stay away when he looked forward to seeing you smile at him.

Buggy reached into his pocket and you held your hand out to stop him. “No, no, it’s fine, I won’t charge you, Captain.”

“I’m going to pay you.” He grumbled as he pulled out the money. He took your hand, ignoring how he could feel the warmth of your skin through his glove, and put the payment in your hand. He pulled away and was out the door before you could stop him.

These little visits of his were starting to be a little… interesting to you but for some reason you were starting to look forward to seeing him.

#buggy the clown #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown x you #opla buggy the clown #opla buggy the clown x reader #opla buggy x reader #opla buggy the clown x you #opla buggy x you #buggy the clown x oc #buggy x oc #sunny x buggy #one piece #one piece oc #one piece fanfiction

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starryeyedjanai · 10 months

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Steve Harrington, cat whisperer

steddie | rated: teen | 1.8k

Read on AO3

Steve is having the worst day of his life.

Okay. Maybe that’s a bit dramatic, but he woke up late for work and couldn’t stop to get coffee, so he was grumpy all morning.

And then when he took his break and finally did go to get coffee - because caffeine is a drug, kids, don’t do it - some maniac spilled hot coffee all over his white button down shirt as soon as he walked inside the coffee shop.

Seriously. Who is drinking hot coffee in August? And why was this guy walking around with a to go cup with no lid on it?

It’s boiling outside and Steve is still not used to the oppressive southern heat even after living here for years now. So he was already wiping sweat from his brow on his five minute walk to the coffee shop before he got doused in hot coffee and it’s just. Not a good day.

When he returns to work, he’s red in the face, not only from the heat, but from the embarrassment of having all his coworkers see him waltz in to the impromptu all-staff meeting with a tight, tight t-shirt with Ariana Grande’s face plastered on it (which he nabbed from his car on the way back to work - he took Robin to the Ariana Grande concert last month and she made him buy a $10 shirt from some sketchy guy in the parking lot who only had women’s size medium shirts.)

The all-staff meeting is a disaster. Corporate legal reps come sauntering in with their unsympathetic smiles as they tell a room of 100 employees that a third of them won’t have a job by the end of the week.

(“Some sacrifices have to be made.”

“We promise it’s not a reflection of your work.”

“Don’t let the door hit you on the way out!”

Okay, so maybe they didn’t actually say that last one, but that was definitely the vibe they gave off.)

He couldn’t concentrate after that. He had a deadline to meet, but he was plunged into a spiral of existential thoughts all afternoon.

How had he ended up here? He’s 29, stuck in a dead end job that has no chance of upward mobility that he only really got because his dad put in a good word for him and now he doesn’t even know if he’ll have a job next week. His thoughts keep circling back to having to ask his dad for help finding somewhere else to work and he does not want to do that. His slightly strained relationship with his parents has mellowed out over the years, but he doesn't want to rock the boat by asking his dad for a favor.

He simmers on it for the rest of the day. He doesn't get much work done, but in the end, he really can’t find it in himself to care. He doesn't do meaningful work. He works to help keep the rich CEO rich. It’s kind of hard to care about numbers in a spreadsheet when he might be screwed out a job at the end of the week.

He takes a walk after work. He has so much pent up energy and he can’t just go home and be left alone with his thoughts all night or he’s gonna do something stupid like try to cut his own bangs.

He immediately regrets his decision to take a walk in the park by his office because he forgot how hot it gets at 5pm. He’s contemplating just turning around and heading home to mope all night when he hears a shout from behind him.

He’s about to turn around to see what all the commotion is about when he’s assaulted by… some kind of creature? It climbs up the back of his pants leg and hooks its sharp, little claws into Steve’s shirt as it climbs up. Ow.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry! I can’t believe he just did that. Let me just-”

The weight of the animal is lifted from his back, but the claws remain and double down, poking through the shirt to grasp at his skin.

“Ow, fuck! What is happening back there?” he asks.

“I’m so sorry, he’s not normally like this. Ozzy, you have to let go. You cannot just attack people like that. Please let go?”

Steve’s shirt is tugged as the stranger attempts to wrestle his pet away from Steve. The claws aren’t digging into his skin anymore, but this little guy won’t let go of Steve’s shirt.

“Ozzy! I swear to god if you don’t let go-”

There’s a ripping sound and suddenly, Steve feels a breeze on his back.

“Oh no,” the stranger whispers.

Steve just closes his eyes and breathes out slowly for a minute. The universe has it out for him today.

He opens his eyes after a moment of silence for his Ariana Grande shirt and turns around to see-

“Are you okay? I mean, your shirt is kind of ruined, but are you okay? Did he hurt you at all? I am so sorry.”

It’s like all the air has been sucked out his lungs. Because this guy? This guy is gorgeous beyond belief. His curly, black hair is windswept and his face is flushed and he has a scar covering the lower half of one side of his face, little tendrils of texture that Steve wants to touch.

He looks like something from Steve’s dreams.

Of course the universe would have him meet this beautiful guy right now when he’s looking like a hot mess. What’s the opposite of meet-cute? A meet-ugly? A meet-ugly, where this guy’s gremlin of a cat destroyed Steve’s shirt after an already horrible day.

And- oh. It’s a cat. The thing that attacked him and wouldn’t let go is a cat. It’s a cute cat. A deceptively cute cat considering he just attacked someone.

Steve realizes he’s been staring when the guys concerned face grows even more worried at his silence.

He shakes himself out of it. He says, “I’m okay. It was just a shock. I didn’t know what was happening back there. That’s all.”

“He just slipped out of his collar and ran after you. He’s never done anything like that before.”

“Do you, like, normally walk your cat?” Steve asks, unable to keep the judgment out of his voice.

“Hey, he likes it. It started out as a joke,” he says, running his hand over his cat’s fur. Ozzy. He thinks he remembers him calling the cat that. “He really likes it though. He begs me to take him out, usually.”

Steve smiles at that. “That’s kind of cute.”

“I’m Eddie, by the way,” the guy says, stretching his hand out.

Steve takes it, shakes his hand, and says, “Steve.”

Ozzy starts struggling against Eddie’s chest where Eddie has him in his other arm, like he’s still trying to get at Steve.

“I don't know what he wants. He really seems like he wants you to hold him or something. Do you want to pet him or hold him maybe?”

Steve feels powerless to say anything other than, “Sure. Give him here.” He is so weak when it comes to pretty people.

He reaches out and Eddie places Ozzy in Steve’s hands and as Steve brings him into his chest to pet him, Ozzy starts climbing him again. Steve lets it play out this time without freaking out and Ozzy kind of awkwardly settles with his paws on Steve’s shoulders and his body pressed around Steve’s neck like a scarf.

“That’s um,” Eddie stammers. “That’s really cute. He used to curl up on my neck and kind of bury himself in my hair when he was a kitten. I haven’t seen him do that in a while. He’s usually not very social around strangers. I’ve never seen him climb someone just to curl up around their neck.”

Steve brings his hand up and strokes the fur of Eddie’s cat. He’s pretty docile now that Steve is petting him.

“I don’t know. I’m somewhat of a cat whisperer,” Steve says around a laugh. “My cat, Han Solo, was the neighborhood nuisance when I first moved here. Always getting into fights with people's dogs as they were walking them, always getting into my neighbor’s yards and destroying their flower beds, that kind of thing. He was scratching at my door one day and I opened it and he just walked inside like he lived there and just never left. So maybe your cat was just picking up on the vibe that I’m good with cats?”

Eddie perks up and says, “You have a cat named Han Solo? That is - it's cute. You don’t really seem the type to like Star Wars.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Isn’t everyone into Star Wars these days?” And then, at Eddie hum of approval, he says, “Han Solo was pretty much my bi awakening.”

Eddie brings his hair in front of his mouth, hiding his smile as he says, “I sincerely hope you’re not talking about your cat.”

The laugh that’s startled out of Steve's chest also startles the cat lounging across his shoulders. Ozzy stands up and tries crawling down the remnants of Steve's shirt, getting his claws stuck in the fabric once again.

Eddie steps closer and helps wrestle Ozzy away from his shirt a second time.

“Man, he really hates that shirt,” Eddie says, grinning at him. “I would offer to buy you a replacement considering he absolutely destroyed it, but I don’t know where I’d get such a masterpiece.”

Steve looks down and laughs. Ariana Grande’s face is still in tact, but with most of the back of the shirt hanging loosely at his waist, this shirt is hanging on by a thread.

“Yeah, I think I can live without it. My best friend kind of bullied me into buying it, anyway.”

He feels the lull of silence that washes over them in his bones. He wants to keep talking to Eddie, wants to suggest they go get dinner together, wants to ask him on a date, wants, wants, wants.

Because he’s had such an awful day and this interaction has made him smile more times than he can remember smiling in the last month.

He opens his mouth to say something, anything, when Eddie beats him to the punch.

“I know this is a little weird, but my apartment is, like, right up the block. I’d hate to send you off wearing the scraps of your best Ari gear. I could grab you a shirt, drop this little guy off, and we could get dinner? If that’s something you’d be interested in.” Eddie bites his lip, looking like he doesn't know that the answer is a resounding yes.

“We should dinner, yeah,” Steve says and cringes. We should dinner. Who talks like that?

“Yeah?” Eddie asks, smiling. When Steve nods, he says, “Okay, let’s get you a shirt, something a little more metal. And then, we should dinner.”

Steve knows he’s being made fun of a little, but if it’s by Eddie, he kind of doesn't care.

#steddie #stranger things #st ficlet #steddie fic #steve harrington x eddie munson #janai.doc #this is just a silly little thing i had rattling around in my brain

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sterekbros · 6 months

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in memory of Trevor the pet frog (1674 words) by Winchesterek Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski Characters: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski

For @sterekfests Fall Fest theme Haunted House, @sterekweek-2023 theme Only Just Begun & @sterekweekly word Magical

Stiles looked down at himself assessingly, not really sure how to feel about his outfit. He knew he didn’t look terrible, but he also looked pretty normal, too. Just like he did every day. Jeans with a T-shirt and a plaid over-shirt.

He was about to go on his first date with Derek freaking Hale. The hottest guy to date that he’s ever laid eyes on. And to think they’d met when Derek visited his family’s pumpkin patch. With two adorable kids, his niece and nephew. Stiles never asked how old they were, but he knew they were in elementary school. Maybe in second grade. So, young enough to think that pumpkins and Halloween were still cool.

He gave himself one more once over and grabbed his phone to check the time. It was almost 7 p.m., which meant that Derek would show up soon to pick him up. Stiles had never been so nervous in his life to go out on a date. Then again, he’d never been out with anyone as hot as Derek, either.

The doorbell rang and Stiles jumped, hurrying down the stairs.

“I got it, I got it!” he assured his parents as he shoved his phone into his pocket. He made sure he had his keys and his wallet too, before rushing to the door and opening it.

Stiles grinned, feeling his cheeks flush. “Uh, hi.” He was so awkward sometimes and he hated it.

“Hey,” Derek replied, his smile almost blinding. “You ready?”

“Uh, yeah—yeah.” Stiles gave a spastic wave to his parents and walked out of the door before they could come over and grill Derek for all the information that Stiles didn't even have himself yet. He closed the door behind himself, which caused Stiles to press closer to Derek, invading his space. Derek didn't seem to mind, though. “Did you want me to drive?”

Derek didn't move away, if anything, he seemed to step closer to Stiles. “Yeah, sure. Since you did pick the date location, after all.” Derek’s eyes seemed to twinkle as he gave Stiles another one of those smiles that made Stiles weak in the knees.

“Hopefully you like it…” Stiles pressed closer to Derek, forcing Derek to step back so they could move off of the porch and away from the door. Derek let Stiles walk ahead of him and followed him toward the Jeep.

“Do I get any hints at where we’re going?” Derek asked, pushing his hands into his pockets, and walking close to Stiles.

Stiles swore he could almost feel the heat of Derek’s body against his, even though they weren't touching as they walked. “Well, it’s supposed to be a surprise and if I give you hints then you might guess what it is.”

Derek chuckled and Stiles smiled, letting that sound settle him. He really wanted to hear Derek laugh more. He liked how happy Derek looked when he laughed, especially when it reached his eyes.

“Fair.” Derek’s smile was soft and he followed Stiles over to the driver's side of the Jeep. Stiles paused and glanced at Derek, brows furrowed.

“What? I can't open your door for you because you’re driving?” Derek asked, reaching for the door handle without waiting for Stiles’ response.

“I didn't say anything,” Stiles replied, trying not to smirk as Derek opened his door for him. “Thank you,” he added before climbing into the Jeep.

Derek closed the door and quickly rounded the Jeep to hop into the passenger seat. “Next time I’ll let you open my door,” he said with a teasing tone that made Stiles laugh.

“For sure,” Stiles agreed. “Can't let you make all of the romantic moves around here.”

“Definitely not,” Derek agreed and buckled up.

Stiles started up the Jeep and buckled up, taking a deep breath, and headed off toward his chosen date spot. He really hoped that Derek liked where he was taking him.

They chatted about mundane things as Stiles drove, like their favorite colors and foods, where they’d gone to high school and a little about what their childhoods were like. Nothing too deep yet, but Stiles was happy to learn as much as he could about Derek, even if they were just little things like the name of Derek’s childhood pet. Which was a tree frog named Trevor.

Stiles pulled into a parking lot, littered with other cars and people, and the fragrant scents of baked goods. He parked and killed the engine, looking over to Derek. “Well, this is it.”

Derek looked around, taking in the place. “Are we at the Fall Festival?”

Stiles blushed and ran a hand through his hair. “Uh, yeah. I thought maybe we could hit up one of the haunted houses and see what else they had going on here. My friend Lydia said they had some great caramel apples at one of the food stands.”

Derek seemed to bristle. “Haunted house?”

“Yeah, they have one here. Umm…” Stiles paused, studying Derek. He didn't seem excited about the prospect of visiting a haunted house. “It’s not like a real one, it’s just one where people jump out at you. No real ghosts.”

Derek chuckled nervously. “I might prefer the actual ghosts.” He cleared his voice. “I, uh—when I was a kid I had a bad experience at a haunted house and I haven't been in one since.”

“Oh.” Well. That was a bust, then. Stiles drummed his fingers on his door and then shrugged. “Okay, then let’s do something else. There’s plenty to do here. We can check out a few games and see what they have to eat. I’m sure we can find something.”

Derek seemed to relax and that made Stiles feel a little more at ease. The last thing he wanted Derek to do was to hate their first date.

“Yeah, that sounds a lot better,” Derek replied and gave Stiles a shy smile. “Thanks…”

“Of course. I want this to be a great night for both of us. The last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable. A haunted house isn't that important to me…” Stiles let the unsaid ‘unlike you are’ hang there between them.

Derek blushed and Stiles gave him a small smile before getting out of the Jeep and rounding to the passenger side. He opened the door for Derek, trying not to grin but he couldn't help himself.

“So, I guess it’s my turn to open your door.” Derek’s chuckle echoed Stiles’ as Stiles stepped aside and Derek climbed out of the Jeep.

“Thank you. You’re such a gentleman.” Derek’s tone was light and teasing as he stepped into Stiles’ space and Stiles closed the Jeep door. It made Stiles nervous and excited at the same time.

“Come on…let’s see what trouble we can get into,” Stiles replied, nodding his head toward the festival.

“After you.” Derek motioned with his hand and Stiles took the lead as they walked through the Fall Festival.

There were games, tents and stands with food and produce for sale, live music playing, a pumpkin village that Stiles was way too excited to visit, and a few gardening workshops that Stiles dragged Derek to despite Derek’s faked reluctance.

All in all, it was a nice night. And Stiles tried to focus on winning this game so he could get Derek a prize. He held the fake gun loosely, trying to stay relaxed, and when the bell rang he squeezed the trigger. The balloon in front of him grew and grew until it couldn't anymore and another bell rang. Derek was laughing and clapping behind Stiles and Stiles pumped his fist in the air. “Which one do you want?” Stiles asked, face bright with the largest smile he’d had in a long time.

“Uhhh, let’s do the frog,” Derek replied, pointing.

“We’d like the frog, please. That one,” Stiles told the game attendant. They handed the frog over and Stiles turned to proudly present an overly large frog to Derek. If he could beat his chest without it being cheesy, he would.

Derek laughed and took the frog, its limbs flailing everywhere as he tried to hold it without looking ridiculous. “I love it. Thank you.”

Stiles was so high on winning the frog that he took a chance to step forward and captured Derek’s lips in a kiss. When Derek didn't pull away, Stiles leaned into it, one of his hands moving to cup Derek’s bearded cheek as they kissed, soft and slow, taking their time and enjoying the moment.

As they parted, Derek was smiling against Stiles’ lips as he said, “Wow. That was—”

“Yeah…” It was something Stiles hadn't expected to feel. A warmth in his chest and his heart fluttering at kissing Derek. He smoothed his thumb along Derek’s cheek, stepping back only a bit. “Did you want to get something to eat?”

What was he supposed to say after a kiss like that? Let’s go to my Jeep so you can fuck me? Stiles would totally be okay with that, but this was more important. Derek was special, not some random hookup that he’d never see again. He wanted something more with Derek, even if this was only their first date.

“Turkey leg? Or maybe we can get some pie,” Derek offered, his hand moving to take Stiles’ hand in his and threading their fingers together. “We might have to take the frog back to the Jeep, though. I don't want him to get damaged while we lug him around the festival.”

“What are you going to name him?” Stiles asked as they began to walk.

“Trevor, of course. In memory of my pet frog.” Derek chuckled and hefted Trevor onto his shoulder as they walked hand in hand through the festival.

It might not have been the date the Stiles originally planned, but it was still magical. Perfect, even. In its own way.

And Stiles couldn't wait for their next date, even if he never wanted this one to end.

#sterek #derek hale #stiles stilinski #teen wolf #sterekfests #sterekweekly #mine #my fic #eternalsterek #sterekweek2023 #sw23onlyjustbegun #sw23theme #sterekfestsfall2023 #sterekfestshaunted

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les-pompiers118 · 10 months

Text

Last call for sin

900 words | rated Teen | Buck angst

A 1x01 coda ficlet for @911hiatus's week one prompt, "hunger." Title from All These Things That I've Done by The Killers, which is a perfect song for pilot Buck (in my humble opinion).

He managed the drive home okay—hands tight around the steering wheel, radio on too loud to keep his thoughts at bay, but he made it. He just put his mind on autopilot and drove. But now that he’s safely on his own front porch, fiddling with the keys in his jacket pocket, Buck feels like he can’t breathe. As if there’s a snake wrapped around his ribcage, squeezing.

He inhales sharply through his nose, then exhales more slowly from his mouth, talking himself through it like he’s his own patient. In… and out. There you go. You’re okay. On the far end of the porch, someone left an empty beer can in the potted geranium that’s languishing between two folding chairs. Buck keeps his eyes fixed on it, both to ground himself while he breathes and to have something—anything—to think about besides what happened yesterday.

He almost lost everything.

In… Out… In… Out…

The front door opens, startling Buck into taking a step back.

“Hey, I thought I heard you pull in,” Kyle says through the screen door. He’s wearing flannel pajama bottoms printed with puffy, cartoon Christmas trees and no shirt. “You okay, man?”

“Yeah, fine. Just didn’t get much sleep.” Buck walks over to the geranium, plucks out the beer can, and hands it to Kyle. “You guys, uh, have someone over last night?”

“Not me. Stayed up late watching a couple movies. I don’t have to work until noon.”

Buck follows Kyle inside, careful not to let the screen door slam. “Sorry if I woke you up.”

“You didn’t. Fucking car alarm next door again. I’m gonna let the air out of their tires next time, I swear to fucking God.”

“I did not hear you say that,” Buck grins, then gestures at Kyle’s pajamas. “Look at a calendar, dude. It’s January.”

“Yeah, so? My mom gave me these. They’re comfortable. Yo, I was about to make some eggs. You want some?”

“Nah, I’m good, thanks. Not hungry yet.”

Kyle gives him a thumbs-up and returns to the kitchen, and Buck goes upstairs to his room. The house is quiet at this time of day, at least on weekdays. Weekends are a different matter. Buck usually comes home to find a few friends-of-friends still hanging around for breakfast. Buck doesn’t care, as long as the mess gets cleaned up and no one has crashed in his bed.

God, he’s so damn tired. It’s not that they had a lot of calls last night; he just couldn’t seem to get his brain to switch off. Four straight hours in his bunk without the bell going off, and he wasted them listening to Chimney snore. Buck drops his gym bag on the floor and kicks off his shoes without looking to see where they land. Clothes are peeled off, replaced with sweats. Curtains get pulled closed. Autopilot. On the way to the bed, he catches his reflection in the mirror hanging over the dresser.

And then he can’t breathe again.

This is not a family.

The next time you screw up, it’ll be your last.

You’re done, kid.

In the dim light, Buck sees all the previous versions of himself staring back at him from the mirror, all with the same birthmark and blue eyes, the same nose that’s just a little too long. Twenty-six goddamn years’ worth of them—and it seems he’s no closer to figuring out how not to screw up his own life.

“I fucked up,” Buck whispers. “I fucked up again, Maddie.”

His reflection pleads with him in the mirror, begging for sympathy, but the voice in his head is brisk, sensible. Maddie’s voice.

Okay? What are you going to do about it, Evan?

He hasn’t seen her in years. It’s painful to think of her, still patching up idiots like him in the ER and then going home to her dickhead husband. At least she has one less thing to worry about with her little brother out of her hair. Buck hopes she’s okay. Maybe even happy.

It’s hard to imagine her happy.

It’s been five years since he left Hershey, hungry for something he couldn’t even name. So hungry it hurt. But now he understands what he was seeking as he was crisscrossing the country in her old Jeep: Purpose. Something he could hold up with pride. And people who gave a shit about him. He knows this because yesterday he almost threw all those things away for a couple of meaningless fucks. Jesus.

So. What is he going to do about it? The first step is obvious. Buck sits down on the edge of his bed and begins deleting every dating app off his phone. He’s done. He has to be done.

He makes the mistake of opening the last app. Four messages. Buck scans the profile pictures, his breathing picking up. God, it was an actual nightmare of a shift. That little girl dragged out of her house, bullets—actual fucking bullets—pinging off the fire engine. In two days, Buck’s going to be right back there, facing all kinds of awful shit again, having people’s lives in his hands. And then there’ll be the consequences of his screw-up to face. Bobby’s probably gonna have him scrubbing floors for a month.

Buck lets his thumb hover unsteadily over GirlOnFire94’s picture. The name feels like fate. He clicks.

One last time. He needs this.

His hands don’t stop shaking for a long time.

#911 #911hiatus2023 #evan buckley #911 fic #my writing

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noffy96 · 1 month

Text

Unexpected Joy

Fandom: FNAF

Ship: Sun/Moon

Chapters: 1/2 (in progress)

Rating: Teen

Words

Fic summary:

But quickly stepping back as heard the now familiar sounds of springs and his boyfriend landed in front of him. And he reached out to steady him even though it was completely unnecessary

“What happened?”

Sun asked the second he got a look at his face.

“Monty happened”

He grumbled as they walked back into the living space of their room. Sun let them over to the couch where he sank into with a large sigh.

Sun had been shutting down their internal communication all day, Moon wondered why that could be. Only to get distracted by Sun himself, and then Monty. Hopefully, he can get the answer by the end of the day.

Link to ao3

Or read it below the read more line:

He liked to claim that he knew his solar counterpart very well. Having shared a headspace will do that. But he would like to think it was simply because he knew how his boyfriend ticked. And there was definitely something going on. But he couldn’t pinpoint what.

Even though they didn’t share the same body anymore. They were still able to communicate with each other internally. He didn’t know who had made that decision as none of the other glamrocks could. But he was immensely grateful. It made running the daycare easier at the very least.

That and beating their friends during game nights. Sun might say it was cheating. But if it bothered him he would shut down communications completely. So far he had only done it once. And it was to prove he could really do it on his own.

And he did, and what a glorious night that was.

But back to the current situation. They were cleaning up after the daycare had closed. Sun was scrubbing down, the tables of any, glue, paint and marker stains. While he went through and over all the play structures. Taking out balls from the ball pit, small toys, wrappers and all sorts of other things the kids had left behind.

He didn’t know how the kids managed to take so much stuff in there. Even more impressive was what he would find on top. Like the plastic ball pit balls made sense. The kids threw them at each other all the time. No wonder some of them launched all the way to the top.

He picked up a single walkie-talkie. He turned it over a couple of times. As he walked to the edge of the play struckter calling down to Sun as he didn't respond the the internal message.

He would it found it more worrying if Sun had been doing anything else than scrubbing the table while humming the daycare’s theme. It had been like that all day. For some reason, his internal messages seemed to not get to Sun somewhere after playtime.

Sun turned it back on every time he let him know. And he seemed apologetic. Maybe he was turning it off without realising it. He wasn’t overly worried. If it kept happening he would make note of it. And maybe he should encourage Sun to go to parts and service.

But Sun could simply been making a surprise and subconsciously not want him to see. Accidentally Turned off the communication entirely. That seemed to be what it was last time. But Sun didn’t carry the same nerves around as the last time he planned a surprise. That’s why he was finding it a bit strange.

Sun finally looked up when he heard him.

“Something wrong Moony? Is there something broken up there?”

His boyfriend asked worryingly and frowning slightly. He loved the new faceplate on both of them. It certainly made Sunny as expressive as he had always sounded in their head.

“No, but do you know if one of the kids lost a walkie-talkie?”

Sun's eyes brightened with relief.

“Yes, Danny did. He only found one, did you find the other one?”

“Yeah, it was up here”

“What?! How did it get there? Oh no, you don’t think they climbed the structure do you!”

He jumped down, landing on the soft mats below and walked over to his partner. Softly grabbing his shoulders before he could worry himself into a spiral.

“We would have noticed that Sunbeam. And you most certainly would have put them in time-out. I think another kid might have taken it. And then shoved it through one of the net holes at the top”

Sun's knuckles knocked together anxiously a few times. Before taking a deep breath

“You’re right…You...are right indeed. Silly me.”

He moved one up to cup the corner of Sun's face. The rays retracted as he did.

“Hey, you are just worried about our little stars, Nothing wrong with that. I’ll just drop this off at Lost and Found when I do my security round. It will be right back with him in no time.”

Sun nodded leaning into his hand for a second, then stepping away.

“Good thinking, But I gotta clean up still. I think someone snuck in a permanent marker again”

He petted his partner's shoulder in sympathy and went to the security desk. Leaving the small toy at the edge so he wouldn’t forget it later tonight. Before hopping up on the desk to sit crosslegged on it. Staring at his boyfriend who continued to clean.

After a few minutes of just staring at his lover. Sun looked up, rays spinning for a moment as he caught his gaze and then huffed annoyed.

“If you are done, you can just help you know”

He dragged his eyes down his partner's body, giving away exactly what he had been staring at before.

“And miss the show. Why would I?”

He let his voicebox drop to its lowest setting. Just to see the beautiful pink blush graze Sunny’s face plate. It was very fun to fluster his partner.

Sun turned the rag in his hands over a couple of times. As he looked away. He saw it slowly morph into a mischievous little smirk.

"If you really want a show…"

Sun rose to his full height, slowly making his way towards him. And he let out a deep breath so that his fans wouldn't start up.

Sun's fingers were trailing along all the plastic tables as he walked closer.

"I could give you one if you want. "

There was likely a small blush on his face. He could reach inside himself and find the manual overrides. But what fun was in that? Sun was allowed to know if he did a good job riling him up.

"When have you known me to say no to that?"

Sun chuckled at his statement and came closer. Planting his hands next to his hips. Caging him in. He leaned back a little bit to keep his whole faceplate in his view. Surprised, but not unwelcomed.

"Well. If I was finished. I could start now…" Sun bends forward. Leaving a lingering kiss on his burning cheek.

"But since you don't want to help"

He growled, warping his arms around his partner's middle. Preventing him from moving back as he intended

"That's a dirty trick Sunbeam, you mischievous little shit"

Sun tutted.

"Language "

And then leaned forward. Closing the gap between their faceplates. Their silicone mouths slid together perfectly. Feeling the warmth of Sun's body beneath his own hands was one of his favourite sensations. Sun’s hands went from beside him to holding his hips, pressing in further and making him lean backwards.

He let out a soft groan extending his claws and teasing across the seam of the two coloured halfs of Sun’s bare waist before slipping beneath his shirt. Sun’s mouth left his own bending down future to mouth at his neck beam instead.

He let out a soft laugh, trying to not get too distracted. Sun had an ace up his sleeve somewhere. He just knows it. It wasn’t like him to drop the cleaning in its entirety for some hot making out. He’d tried that before and failed miserably.

it ended with Sun not kissing him for the rest of the day which sucked. Even if the next day more than made up for it. He was convinced Sun just loved riling him up sometimes. He couldn’t blame him. He did the same thing.

He was yanked from his thoughts when the hands around his hips shifted up to his waist. Sun's fingers felt hot against his bare endo. He wanted to look down and see. He loved seeing their colours contrast against each other. But Sun being at his neck prevented him from doing that.

He let his claws scratch lightly at his lover's back. Grinning he felt his lover shiver but Sun didn’t pull away. Then the hold on his hips changed, till it was teasing, and light. Fluttering quickly, he wasn’t able to scramble away before the Laugh escaped his voice box.

His boyfriend grinned against his neck as he continued to mercilessly tickle him. He tried to squirm away but his legs had locked up.

“I’ll stop if you’ll help me Moony~”

He shook his head, his laughter not dying down. He managed to open an eye between his shaky breaths to see his partner's cat-like grin. Sun was enjoying himself quite a lot with this.

He threw his head back with another round of laughter.

He saw their tether called for it, and it quickly came down, Trying to make a getaway. He didn’t account for Sun to grab the hook as it came down. Stopping it from attaching. While the hand that had been poking and his side went up towards the newly summoned attachment ring on his back.

The finger traced around the ring. It was way more sensitive than he had realised. The old ones had been sturdy. Annoying if someone pulled on it, it’s why he was glad that these new ones now stayed hidden when not using them. But he hadn’t noticed the increased sensitivity.

But Sun clearly had and was using it to his advantage. As he let out wheezes of laughter.

“Okay…okay. I surrender. Fuck..stop!”

The hand immediately dropped and he heard the cable fly back to the ceiling. Sun pulled away. But he hopped off after him, keeping close as he brought him down into another kiss. It was very awkward because he was still wheezing. But as he let go Sun looked happily dazed. And still too smug for his own good.

“Fuck you”

Sun rolled his eyes at his words, hand raising to his face, then tugging his cap over his eyes

“Get to cleaning Moony~”

His partner said in a sing-songy voice as he rightened his hat, Then noticed Sun leaning in close enough to whisper.

“But if you keep up the language you won’t get a show at all”

Sun moved away, and he wasn’t giving his partner the satisfaction of seeing his blushing face. Grabbing the rag Sun had left with some sanitiser and went to the table he had been scrubbing before.

There was still a little bit of a green washed-out stain on the table. The kind that looked like you went over it with cleaning product a dozen times. And just….stays. But he started scrubbing at it anyway. It did fade a bit more. Enough that he was happy with it. So when he stood back up to see if Sun was finished.

Only to see him sitting on the desk like he hand. Smirk high on his face, and giving a little wave. Eyelights changed to the white of their old faceplate so he couldn’t tell where he was looking

“You little…”

He stalked back over to his boyfriend, who didn’t even flinch as he slammed his hands on the desk, in an exact mirror of their previous position. No, he seemed pretty content with the lazy spin of his rays.

“ what is it Moony~? You can take a break but I can’t?”

Sun straightened his spine, making him still have to look up. Instead of caging sun in like he wanted to, and as his glare increased sun’s smile only grew. Was this what he had been planning? Had his counterpart tried to think of different ways to rile him up?

He leaned closer as he squinted his eyes. Barely an inch between their faceplates. But Sun kept his faceplate static, not giving anything away except for amusement.

“I should watch you clean more often Moonbeam, Maybe then I understand why you can’t take your gaze off me.”

It looked like Sun was gonna say more, but he covered his faceplate with his own and tugged at the other’s hips. Sun let out a squeak instead. And he slipped a tongue past his partner's surprised open mouth. Hopefully distracting him enough so that he would just forget he could speak with just his voicebox.

Hands quickly warped around his waist, making the large hands almost completely circle the thin frame. And it made his fans make an embarrassing loud sound. Sun let out an interested hum in response

But then with a loud bang, the doors of the daycare flew open.

“Hey! Moonman you ready for patrol my dude!”

The gator stared at both of them, still by the desks warped up in each other. He was pretty sure some fluids that came from Sun’s tongue were dripping over his faceplate.

“Uh…did I interrupt something, what is with the death glares”

Monty asked sheepishly.

“Yes”

Both of them growled. And he quickly spun his head back to face Sun who was still glaring at the gator. Sun was the first to step back if their PDA went on slightly too long. Never shying away from giving and receiving kisses. But it was clear that some parts of their relationship he wanted to keep private.

He didn’t mind, but it made Sun agreeing with him all the more perplexing. Add that to the list of odd things happening today.

Monty huffed angrily before pointing at him

“You said it was fine I would come along, so don’t back out now. I thought you told the kids it aint cool to break promises”

He sighed deeply, finally wiping his mouth with his wrist. He had indeed promised. The gator had wanted to see what his job was like. Arguing that it’s the one job he never got to see. Also, Monty could handle himself if a threat showed up. He hadn’t been too fond of the idea at first.

But the green giant had shown genuine interest. And he eventually relented and promised that he could come along during one of his patrols. Can’t believe he forgot, but Sun could be very distracting. So with a sigh, he said

“I did promise…”

He trailed off as he caught Sun’s expression falling. Still has his lights set to white. He wondered if he wasn’t turning them back to blue on purpose.

He placed a quick kiss on his partner's cheek and whispered a soft apology before stepping back.

“Chin up Sunshine, I’ll be back before you know it”

There was a soft chuckle and even without the lights turned on he could tell his boyfriend rolled his eyes at him.

“Yeah, yeah. Love you Moonbeam, see ya soon. I’ll finish cleaning”

He swiped the almost forgotten walkie-talkie off the desk and passed the gator out the still-open doors

“Let’s go, “

Monty’s tail thumped happily and his heavy footsteps trailed behind him.

“Bye Sunman! Thank you for letting me borrow your boyfriend. See you at games night Friday”

He could hear the chimes from the bells from Sun’s wrist as they were waved out. With an excited shout of.

“Have fun you two!”

“We will, this is gonna be awesome!”

Monty shouted back, and he shook his head with a fond smile.

Once they were out of the daycare area, his eyes flickered to a darker red as he started his security protocol.

“You know…I thought you two would have more unique nicknames for each other”

He stilled and turned his neck 180 degrees to look at the gator, who stumbled back for a second.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He asked slowly, and the giant crocodile made a swallowing sound

“Just…Sunshine? Moonbeam? Seem pretty standard nicknames. I think most of us even have called you two a variant of those. Dunno you two seem like the type to have a more unique nickname for each other with how you two are always hanging over each other”

He was taken aback by the honest answer. He hadn’t really thought about it much. But now that Monty had brought it up. Well..he was right. He had heard Chica use Sunbeam at least once or twice. And everyone had called Sun, Sunshine at least once.

The girls used Moonpie for him to tease him. And of course Moonman with the gator. Even Moony and Sunny weren’t unique as the kids used those often.

He wrecked his brain but couldn’t find a single one that one of the others hadn’t also called them. Monty must have noticed the shift in his expression

“Shit sorry man, I didn’t mean…Like it’s fine if you two like those nicknames…You don’t have to...And I am sure Sun doesn’t “

It was clear the gator was struggling to find the words, he held up his hand and Monty fell silent

“It's…okay, I know you didn’t mean anything by it….just something to think about I suppose…thank you”

Monty awkwardly scratched the back of his head

“Yeah…no problem Moonman…So where do we go first?”

It was clear Monty wanted to try and steer away from what he had just done. And so he went with it. He pushed the thoughts aside for later. This night was just getting started.

A few hours later. He just stomped through the hallway to their rooms. He had to find Sun and explain all this utter ridiculousness.

He wasn’t in their living space, and he checked their bedroom surprised he wasn’t there either.

“Moon?! That you?!”

The sound came from the daycare still, and he furrowed his brows. What was Sun still doing out on the floor? And he stepped out onto the balcony.

But quickly stepping back as heard the now familiar sounds of springs and his boyfriend landed in front of him. And he reached out to steady him even though it was completely unnecessary

“What happened?”

Sun asked the second he got a look at his face

“Monty happened”

He grumbled as they walked back into the living space of their room. Sun let them over to the couch where he sank into with a large sigh.

“Did he not behave himself during parol? “

Sun asked as he settled beside him. One hand came up to gently rub at his shoulder and arm. Making him relax more.

“Uugh No. It wasn't that. He just managed to send my protocols into a frenzy”

Sun hummed placing a kiss to the side of his head. Protocol going into overdrive was never fun. Everyone knew that, it could leave you exhausted on many levels.

“Didn't you two go over the protocols? He was always listening so intently. I am kinda surprised he would make a mistake like that.”

He sighed deeply tipping his head to the side and dropping it to Sun’s shoulder. Who shifted to wrap his arm around his shoulders, and he fell further into his boyfriend's warm hold.

“It wasn't my security protocols…..it was the naptime protocols he activated”

Suns fans stopped for a second. And beneath him, his lover's chest started moving with suppressed giggles.

“What did he do?”

Sun asked voice filled with curiosity and mirth. He felt some of his servos heating up again as he thought back on it.

“Apparently he decided to join me while being on 17% power. But didn't tell me until he dropped to 12% when I noticed him becoming slower and sluggish “

Sun's free hand came up to his mouth to hide his growing grin.

“Oh…oh no that IS bad. But I feel like it's not the end. Is it Moonbeam”

He sighed dramatically tipping his head back to look up at his boyfriend.

“Of course not. First I just send him to his green room. With firm instructions to stay put”

The shaky laughter beneath him became harse and he felt his foul mood slipping away slowly.

“Let me guess he didn't stay put”

He rolled out of Sun's arm. And started to move his arms around to emphasise the craziness of the next part

“Of course not. First, he decided to follow me. Then tried to hide from me when I noticed and I had to give chase until he nearly fell into one of the ponds at Gator Golf. That I had to drag the struggle idiot all the way back to rockstar row. Where my protocols drove up into an even higher frenzy cause he dropped to 3%”

Sun was laughing unabashedly. Wiping non-existent tears from his eyes

“Oh. Oh please tell me. You had to swaddle him like a burrito to stay put”

He felt a proud grin grow on his face. Struggling with the big gator hadn't been fun at the moment. But the result surely was, and he sent a picture he made through their internal systems to Sun. Who doubled over in laughter once he got it.

It was a good picture. You could still clearly see Monty struggling to get out of the tight blankets. Only able to see his head and one claw in the sea of blankets. And a cord ran back to his wall so he could charge.

“Had to stick Freddy and Bonnie on him to make sure he wouldn't leave again.”

Sun's laughter was finally dying down.

“The group chat is gonna be full of pictures tomorrow morning I bet”

He chuckled as well.

“Most likely”

Sun got up and stretched himself. He followed his partner's movement as he walked through their space

“Well…serves him right for interrupting us“

He felt his cheeks heat slightly. But Sun continued without missing a beat.

“But did something else happen? You seem a bit more out of sorts than just the protocols and Monty acting up”

He chuckled weakly

“Nothing slips past you. Does it Sunshine”

Sun's smile got wider at the praise.

“Nope. So you wanna tell me what's wrong”

He shrugged.

“Nothing wrong Monty just mentioned something as the shift started, and I can't stop thinking about it.”

Sun hummed,

“Still talking around it I see”

He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

“You are one to talk, our internal communication is closed off again”

He informed his partner and Sun who had kept moving around unable to keep still. Seemed to lock up for a brief second. Before turning his body back around to face him with a little too-wide smile

“You got me there Moony”

Both of them stared each other down. For a few seconds. Before Sun raised his hands as if surrendering.

“Well…fair is fair I suppose”

he said with a smile but he noticed a slight Nervous twitch in his hands.

“Remember little Claire? I noticed her sitting alone during playtime today. So I wondered if she was okay. Luckily she had just gotten absorbed into this flower book she had gotten from her grandmother.”

He smiled, knowing the small girl well

“Of course I do, she always wants to look at the pictures of flowers we have in the story books if there are any”

Suns smile grew

“She does! And she wanted to tell me about the latest flower she read before playing. And I realised it sounded very familiar”

Sun's eyes narrowed and suddenly it felt like he was pinned in place.

“H-how so?”

He asked nervously, eyes stuck looking at his partner. Who only smiled wider.

The bells on his boyfriend's wrist made a soft jingle. But it felt incredibly loud.

“Well…This flower is quite sturdy. Seeing it would certainly spark a smile to anyone. “

Sun was stepping closer with every word spoken. The words getting buttery smooth. A tremble went through him, Sun rarely got so intense and he desperately tried to figure out what flower he was being compared to, to warrant such an action.

Moonflower was out, it was quite too delicate. Probably not a rose either.

Another step closer, still keeping up with that warm smile.

“Its seeds can be used for many things. Just like you are more than just a daycare bot. And it's known for following the sun around. Always trying to face it.”

His cheeks were incredibly warm at the small call out. He knew that he always kept looking towards his lover, trying not to let him out of his gaze for too long if they were in the same room. It still was so unreal to him, that he just could do that now, just look over and there he was. No longer confined to his head. The other Glamrocks had teased him about it. But he hadn’t thought Sunny had noticed.

Sun was just a step away. His fans were getting louder. Not knowing what to do is compared to something as soft and approachable as a flower.

He was the scary one, the creepy one. The one that caused all the problems in the past, …not the Pretty approachable one like Sunny.

His mind was quickly Deleting flowers from his list of what it could be. Even if he grew slightly scared of the answer.

Which answer deemed Sun good enough for him? He is t sure he could handle the answer.

Sun's hands placed themselves next to his hips. Caging him in for a second time that day. Voice dropping to a hushed whisper.

“It's also known for being so very tall”

His eyes widened. It could only be one thing. But no…no Sun wouldn't compare him to…

He wouldn't.

His blush was bright enough that it almost reflected of Sun's cheeks as he leaned closer. Their foreheads almost touching.

His boyfriend's smile was fond of a little teasing.

“Yeah…I see you have figured it out.”

He wanted to shake his head but he felt locked in place as a gentle kiss was placed in the middle of his faceplate. As Sun's smile winded.

“Yeah…I quite enjoy having my own beautiful sunflower ”

His fans started blasting at the frenzy that left him in. He had been correct but it still left him utterly unprepared for actually hearing the word pass his lover’s mouth. The pumps in his chest were making worrying clicks with how hard they were going.

He scrambled up and pressed his faceplate against his partners. It wasn't gentle or sweet. Just a mad dash forward to try and expel everything he felt.

Because….that was a nickname used for Sun. He was sure he heard it being used by one of the kids. He had never used it. It was one that he just didn't feel like it fit.

But now Sun was calling him that. Comparing him to something that beautiful. So closely resembling himself. Something delicate and sweet. Yet strong and unyielding in it’s own way

It was doing things to his feelings. As his hands scrambled for purpose against Sun's shoulders, who was trying to steady himself.

Clearly caught off guard by his actions.

Sun pulled back looking at him worringly. And he dipped his head low. So he couldn't see his lover's face feeling embarrassed for reacting like that over some simple teasing nickname.

“Moony?”

He trembled lightly. And he heard a worrying coo. Hands rubbing up and down his arms.

“What’s wrong…Moon? Did I?...” Sun trailed off.

He shook his head. Trying to get his voicebox back under control as it felt filled with static Blinking hard when soft silicone-covered fingers brushed against the bottom of his faceplate gently encouraging him to look back up.

And slowly he did. When he saw his boyfriend's worried gaze all he wanted to do was apologise and make it go away.

Sun’s rays moved slowly…left to right. Then the solar animatronics eyes widened. And he leaned closer and softly. So very softly he whispered.

“You like that….don't you…Sunflower? “

He reached up and tugged his hat over his eyes. But didn't pull away and he could hear

Sun's relieved laugh. He was tugged off the couch into Sun's warm embrace, as they sank to the floor.

“You do!? Oh, Moony! That's so cute!! “

He let out a suffering groan still not looking at his boyfriend. Hiding in the darkness of his hat as he was pulled against his lover's chest.

Several kisses were placed against the side of his faceplate.

“No… no Moony don't hide. You are allowed to like it”

He let out another groan. And Sun chuckled sweetly kissing whatever part of his faceplate he could reach.

Long fingers were running gente patterns across his back making him slowly melt into putty in his arms.

Sun's face nudges against his own right where his audio receivers were.

“My Sunflower “

He let out another suffering sigh and buried his burning face more into his lover's chest. Sun chuckled softly but let him hide. One hand continuing the comforting patterns on his back. While the other gently scratched the back of his faceplate.

They sat like that for a few minutes. Slowly his raging fans slowed down. But it still felt like his blushing feature was turned to its highest setting. And he was desperately searching for the manual controls.

“Hey…Moon?”

He glanced up from where he was hiding but Sun was staring straight ahead looking thoughtfully. He let out a hum to let him know he heard him

“ I was kinda afraid of calling you a silly nickname…but just…it fits you so well. The best I hoped for was maybe a surprised laugh. And a thank you.. so the fact you like it so much.”

Sun slowly turned his head down. The smile on his face was fond and genuine.

“Makes me really happy. “

It felt like he just got shot with electricity in the best kind of way.

“You like just seeing me embarrassed for once”

Two hands grabbed his face and forced him to look up. The grip turned gentle like he was holding something precious

“No, not at all Moon. I like how happy it makes you. Your face has been stuck in this happy smile since I first uttered it”

His eyes flickered and he realised Sun was right. It had been. He went to tug at his hat once more but Sun stopped him. Gently holding his wrist. Bringing his hand over to kiss it gently as if to soothe him.

Fuck he was flustered. Cause even that simple action was making his insides stir like crazy

“If you don't want me to call you tha-”

“No!”

He cut him off. Sun's face went from surprise to a gentle smile as his own mouth shut with a click. Embarrassed by his small outburst.

Sun's thumb started tracing patterns along his cheek.

“Then I won't stop. But if you want it to be more private…no questions asked”

He gave a nod. He wasn't sure if he could handle himself if Sun called him that in front of anyone.

He got a gentle kiss and then. Got pulled into a hug. Two arms warping around his torso as Sun tugged his chin over his shoulder and squeezed him gently

“Thank you, Sunshine”

He muttered still feeling embarrassed of getting so worked up over a silly little nickname.

“No problem. Moonbeam”

He gently warped his own arms around his lover. Holding him gently. As all his systems slowly calmed down. Once it felt like static wasn't running through all his wires he asked softly.

“Have you been planning on trying to find a way to call me his nickname the whole day?”

Sun laughed sounding embarrassed himself.

“Yeah….I really didn't notice I kept shutting our communication off. I swear. I just…I didn't wanna blurt it out at random and make you think I was making fun of you or something”

He gently moved his hands up and down the exposed endo of Sun's back.

“I don't think I would have thought that”

He muttered and Sun let out a little whine

“I just didn't wanna risk it. And then after cleaning, I had such a good set up and then Monty had to come in and ruin it”

If they hadn't been sitting on the floor he is sure Sun would have stomped his foot a little in frustration. Now only his rays made a fast annoyed whirl as he huffed.

He thought back on their little interaction. Remember that he cut Sun off with a kiss at the end. Did he plan on calling him the new name then?

“Kinda glad he did…dunno how I would react if he came in after you would have called me that”

Sun's arms squeezed him gently.

“Yeah….this is much better.”

He laughed in response. Placing a soft kiss against Sun’s shoulder.

“Were you really worried I would react badly”

Sun shifted beneath him, voice dropping to a whisper.

“You don't like it when people underestimate you and treat you as if you're delicate. And I thought that comparing you to a flower…even A strong one..might insult you somehow”

He gently squeezed his boyfriend. Turning his head to kiss one of his rays gently.

“I think if it was anyone else I would hate it. “

He muttered earnestly He let out a large gust of air through his fans. Voice box straining with barely contained static and continued.

“I like it when YOU see me as soft. Especially after everything I did to you with the virus.”

He buried his face further into Sun's shoulder. Who had fallen silent, panic was setting in fearing he said a bit too much. But he kept going.

“I like being your sunflower”

It kinda felt weird to say. But Sun's fans started blasting beneath him and the gentle hold turned crushing. Sun's voicebox let out a sound of overwhelming static. Before a cracking whisper came out

“You are”

The panic fell away with relief. And Sun slowly pulled back to look at him with eyes shining with unshed tears. He gently rubbed at his rays and his boyfriend just laughed helplessly.

Tipping his face plate forward their foreheads brushed gently. As they looked deeply into each other's eyes.

“My Sunflower”

Sun breathed it out. And as his face started to flush once more. He tried to parse through all the layered feelings. But the only way he could return it was to tip his head further up into a soft kiss.

Their eyes held contact for a moment longer before they both closed them. And just enjoyed the soft kiss. Letting time pass by them without a worry. As hands gently pressed them as close as they could get.

After several minutes they pulled apart. And he glanced aside for a second trying to fight to embarrassment trying to claw its way back.

But it was fine. Sun didn't mind his sappier side. He knew that. Still sometimes hard to fight against it.

“So you gonna tell me, what Monty said that had you so out of sorts,”

Sun asked, clearly trying to give him a way out. So his overheating servos could cool down a little. He couldn't help but laugh.

Sun looked surprised and he couldn't blame him. And he could feel his own grin settle on his faceplate

“He mentioned he was surprised that we didn't really have unique nicknames for each other. And while it didn't bother me at first. It just kinda stuck with me. Cause you’re special to me…and I wanted to call you a name that reflects that And for you to do the same in return. But now”

He indicated his hand around and Sun started laughing softly.

“Okay….that's funny timing-wise. “

He chuckled again. Gently kissed his partner’s nose just because he could.

“It is.”

They locked eyes again, and his voice dropped to a whisper.

“Now I just have to find a name for you, that makes you feel even half of the things. This new one does for me. “Sun's cheeks dusted a soft pink.

“I’ll look forward to what you'll come up with “

His finger trailed soft patterns across the back of Sun’s rays.

“Mmm don't think Moonflower would work. Don't wanna copy you anyway. Feels cheap”

Sun’s cheeks darkened further. But was clearly more amused than overwhelmed.

“You are gonna throw all the nicknames at me now? Aren't you?”

He winked at his partner.

“Honey, you know I am”

Sun barked out a single laugh. Rolling his eyes.

“If you think you’ll find one like that. I won't stop you Moonbeam. “

It was clear Sun thought it wouldn't work and honestly he didn't think so either. But the teasing would be fun.

“Now…Sunflower”

And just. like that he was blushing again and paying full attention to his boyfriend.

“I think I promised you a show…let's get to it”

#noffy's writing #sun/moon #sun x moon #fnaf sun x moon #sundrop x moondrop #sundrop/moondrop #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #dca #fnaf dca #fnaf daycare attended #fnaf daycare attendant

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whatstruthgottodowithit · 4 months

Text

Top of the List [Part One]

Fandom: Elvis Presley, American Musician

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Addison Goodwin

Characters: Elvis Presley, Addison Goodwin, Jessie Goodwin, Lisa Marie Presley, Original Female Character, Original Male Character, Jerry Schilling, Marci Cunningham, Colonel Parker [Mentioned], Joe Goodwin

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2197 of 9639

Summary: When you’re a kid writing a Christmas list is simple; toys and lots of them. As you get older however the wishes start to change and with a life as complicated as the Goodwin-Presleys those wants aren’t always easy to come by. For Addison it’s a family. For Jess answers. And for Elvis, well, as long as he’s got his girls he doesn’t have to wish for a damn thing.

Tags/Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Kissing, Sex, Penatrative Sex, Vaginal Sex, Unprotected Sex, Handjobs, Morning Sex, Mentions of Death, Grief, Grieving, Absent Father, Single Parent, Working Parent, Christmas Day, Secrets, Festive Period, Teen Angst, Moods, Fingering, Christmas Morning, Kids on Christmas, Magic of Christmas

Notes: Okay so I’d been planning these as two separate fics but I decided to put them together because they parallel each other so well. All of them wanting something etc etc

I did want to make it sorta ghosts of Christmas past, present and future but working out the timelines of how to establish everything was too hard.

PART ONE // PART TWO // PART THREE

ELVIS & ADDISON MASTERPOST // TAG LIST

Addison could hear it, the snow outside flurrying past the windows as it made its way to the ground destined to leave the entire lawn blanketed in white. She couldn’t see it of course, her boyfriend’s need for perpetual darkness whenever he slept meant that the room was so dimly lit she could barely see her hand in front of her face, but she didn’t need to see it to know it was there. And just thinking of it made her feel cold. Even now, protected from Elvis’ Baltic bedroom conditions by the thick comforter and the furnace of the man himself beside her, she felt a tiny shiver run down her spine though she didn’t know why.

It wasn’t like last Christmas, when she had been cocooning herself in her blanket in order to keep in some kind of warmth as the wind whistled through the poorly insulated windows. She wasn’t listening to her father’s hacking coughs as he tried desperately to sleep off the chest infection that had been knocking him for six while he’d tried to keep working as long as he could so that she wouldn’t have to pick up more shifts at the movie theatre just to buy some food for Christmas dinner. When she went downstairs later, she’d no doubt be greeted by a wealth of presents underneath the tree instead of the one gift she had limited her father to buying her last year, knowing they could barely afford that.

Though as she lay there thinking about it, thinking of how far she had come from then to now, she realised why she could still feel that cold seeping into her bones despite everything she had done to stop it. It was because even now, laying in a bed in a literal mansion with Elvis next to her, pinning her to him as he snored lightly in her ear, she still felt as alone as she had in that bed last Christmas. She still felt hopeless, as though she were back in the same position because, like she had with her father, she knew something was coming — something bad.

She'd started to feel that around Christmas too, when his trips to the doctor had gotten more frequent but he hadn’t gotten any better. He’d kept her placated, telling her they’d gotten a new treatment, a costly one from what she’d seen on his medical bills, but a good one that was sure to work.

Elvis had done the same. Since Russwood Park he’d told her everything was okay, but there was something in the way he breezed around the details that told her it wasn’t. As her father’s conversations with nurses and doctors had ended abruptly whenever she came into a room, Elvis’ did too, the topic shifting to something trivial as he pulled her into him, holding her in ways she was sure were designed to make sure she couldn’t see his face. The way she had fussed over her father, watching everything he did in case he might need her, was the way Gladys now watched her son, who pretended not to notice her increased attention. And then there were his eyes. His eyes, that despite the smile on his face never seemed to light up the way they used to. Eyes that lost their sparkle every time he looked at her, guilt replacing that twinkle she loved so much.

That was why she was glad he was sleeping. That the weight on his shoulders was removed for now as he lay there oblivious, unlike her. It was dark, but she could just make out the contours of his face. The sharpness of his nose, followed by the plumpness of his lips that descended into the soft roundness of his jaw, down to his bobbing Adam’s apple. As she marvelled at each bit of him she found her finger following the path her eyes had travelled, and though she hadn’t meant to disturb him, she must’ve gone too far as he stirred, his eyes fluttering open blearily as he came to with a yawn, smiling at her sleepily as he got his bearings.

‘Good morning,’ she said, pulling her hand away quickly and placing it on his chest, hoping he wouldn’t think she’d been laying there watching him sleep. Luckily he didn’t seem to be bothered by the intrusion, instead preferring to reach for the lamp beside them so that he could see her face and marvel at her in the way she had him, only not in secrecy.

‘Mornin’ baby,’ he said, as his other hand moved up around her to her shoulder, pushing under the material of her night gown until he was touching her bare skin, warming her from the outside in.

‘Merry Christmas,’ she said with a weak smile. He faltered for a minute, as if the whole thing had snuck up on him, before he wiped his eyes wearily and said, ‘shit yeah. I forgot there for a minute.’

‘Merry Chrissmus baby,’ he said, offering her the most genuine smile she’d see in days, though it was immediately torn away as she watched whatever thought he’d have come and go, taking whatever easy-natured conversation they’d been having with them. She could feel him tense, pulling away from her as he said, ‘We, uh, we should head downstairs.’

‘It’s still early,’ Addison said, as he shifted away, pulling his touch away from her, leaving her colder than she had been before thinking about the snow.

‘I know,’ he said, as he threw back the covers, keeping his gaze away from her as he thought of an excuse to extract himself, ‘but everyone will be up soon.’

‘And they’ll wait for you,’ Addison countered, pushing herself up and pulling the covers back over him, her hand on his chest to keep him in place.

‘Still, can’t waste the day, right? Not on Christmas,’ he said jovially, glancing at her entrapment before he continued, ‘aren’t you wondering what Santa brought ya?’

‘I only asked for one thing,’ she said earnestly.

‘Oh yeah, what’s that?’ he asked, genuine intrigue plaguing his handsome face. She debated it for a moment, telling him that all she wanted was for him to tell her what was going on so that she could start getting over whatever devastation lay ahead, but as she watched him, his blue eyes holding the only genuine sparkle she’d seen since his last concert she couldn’t bring herself to. She couldn’t bring herself to ruin a moment, not when she had just been struck by the realisation that had been what he had been doing all along. He was trying to protect her the way her father had, and though she knew it would happen eventually, she decided to let him. To push the inevitable away for just today.

‘You,’ she said, moving until she was draped across him, their breath intermingling as their noses touched.

‘Ads,’ he whispered, but she didn’t listen, and instead she leant in, their lips touching gently as she kissed him, hoping he’d take the bait. He was tense as she kissed him deeper, shifting until she was sitting atop of him, but as her fingers trailed down his torso, working his pyjama shirt open as they continued the route they’d been headed before he’d awoken, she felt him respond, his dick twitching against her leg without his permission. He wanted to stop her, well, not entirely, but as she pulled back a smile on her pretty face, he knew he probably should. It was what he’d been doing the past few days since every touch and every kiss now filled him with guilt, given that she didn’t know that they were soon to be rationed. Every minute of every day since he’d found out about the draft he’d wanted to spend holed away in this room doing exactly what she was now, and yet he hadn’t. In fact, he’d pushed her away more than he’d intended to. Which was why her touch felt so good now and why his toes curled as she pulled him out of his shorts, her hand gliding effortlessly up and down his length, causing his breath to get heavier and her smirk to grow.

‘You like that?’ she asked with a giggle as her thumb ran over a sensitive spot, causing Elvis’ hips to jolt without warning.

‘You know I do,’ Elvis said, pushing himself up until he was sitting, his arms wrapping around her as their foreheads pressed together. It was enough to stall her movements, his cock nestling between the warmth of his own belly and the heaps of chiffon from the night dress he still hadn’t managed to get off of her yet. It was also nearly enough to make her come clean, to have the words on the tip of her tongue, but she found the only thing she could say was, ‘I’ve missed you.’

‘M’right here,’ he said, though he knew what she meant.

‘Promise?’ she asked. He didn’t say anything; she just watched as that familiar guilt swirled in his eyes before he moved in and kissed her. After that it wasn’t certain who needed the other more. Who needed distraction, warmth, love. She let him lead though, his hand guiding the tip of his cock through her slickened folds before he inched inside her, holding her firm in his lap for a moment as they became one. Even when they could hear sounds of the house coming to life and people waking ready for Christmas, neither of them rushed. Instead, he laid her down on his bed, moving his hips at an agonisingly slow pace, just watching her as she took him.

He was going to miss this. When he ripped the band aid off and changed their lives forever, it would be this he missed the most. Because after today they’d never be like this again. Sure, they could do this a thousand times over, yet it wouldn’t be the same. When her hand ghosted his cheek it wouldn’t be just a loving gesture; it’d be trying to commit the feel of it to memory. When he buried his face in her neck next time, he’d be trying to remember to make a note of the perfume she wore so that he could buy a spare bottle to take with him, just to have some reminder of her in those lonely barrack bunks. In fact, he doubted he’d ever get her like this again, breathlessly calling his name as she clenched like a vice around him, her chest heaving as he spilled into her, unable to hold back. No, he’d never get her like this again because when they did this again she’d be looking at him with the same look she had now, as their heads pressed together, that knowing look of sadness. Every minute from now would be chalked with worry. He knew her well enough to realise that once he told her the truth, she’d pull away, and that was worse than the idea of going away at all.

‘I love you,’ she murmured as he lay against her, his body entirely too big for her to hold properly though she didn’t care. Having him close was enough.

‘Love you too, baby,’ he whispered, not looking up from where his head rested on her chest, her fingers weaving through his hair. She watched him, wondering whether to ask him what was going on or not, but as she lay there, her head clouded with love and lust, she still couldn’t bring herself to. She could see that guilt over coming to him once more, beckoning him to pull away from her, and that she couldn’t bear. So even though she knew something was coming—something bad—she decided to let him play it his way. If he wanted to keep her in the dark for now, he could. If he wanted to give her a Christmas, she’d let him.

‘We should get up,’ she said thickly, trying to force the tears in her voice away before he looked up at her, his head snapping up as she spoke, watching her with those guilt-ridden blue eyes. ‘Your mama will have our heads if we don’t.’

‘You’re right,’ he said with a weak smile, ‘I’m gon’ hope in the shower.’

‘Okay,’ she said as he pulled himself away, allowing her to push herself up until she was sitting, wrapping the comforter around her in the hopes it would mirror the warmth he provided. He jumped out of bed, shivering in the crispness of the air but he didn’t run away. Instead he lingered by the edge of the bed, looking down on her for a moment. Whatever he was going to say gone as he made the executive decision to lean down and kiss her.

‘You’re what I wanted for Christmas too,’ he said, offering her a cheeky smile which she returned before heading towards the bathroom. Though as the door closed behind him, she sighed. It was coming soon; she knew that, but she could give him the day. They could have Christmas.

ELVIS TAGS

@girlblogger2002 @sania562 @caitlin1996 @literally-just-elvis-fics @notstefaniepresley @artlesson8892 @18lkpeters @velvetelvis @jaqueline19997 @elvispresleyxoxo @amydarcimarie @presleyenterprise @everythingelvispresley @elvispresleywife @lillypink @richardslady121

#my writing #elvis presley #elvis and addison #elvis #elvis x ofc #elvis presley x ofc #addison goodwin #top of the list #jessie goodwin #lisa marie presley

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