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fxrmuladaydreams · 9 months

Text

use me (mv33)

max x reader

summary: max needs a way to take his frustrations out, you offer yourself to him

notes: !! contains smut minors dni !! i have other stories in the works but as a max girlie this took precedent, it had to be done after watching the singapore quali

You were on the edge of your seat watching the remaining 15 cars zoom around the track. Both the Red Bulls had been having issues during the weekend, not driving as fast as they had been in previous races.

You watched as your boyfriend, the reining world champion, made his final lap in Q2, scoring fairly low, and just falling further down the list as other drivers crossed the line. Liam Lawson of all people was the one to push Max down to 11th. You had to admit the kid was talented, but you knew Max was going to be very unhappy with the results.

You knew you were right when you saw Max get out of his car before they had even pulled it into his garage. He stormed away, pulling his helmet off his head as someone practically had to chase after him.

“He’s going to be pleasant.” A voice pulled your attention away from the scene in front of you.

Christian stood with his arms crossed over his chest, his headset now resting around his neck.

“He’ll be fine.” You tell him, however you know just how explosive Max can get when he doesn’t do well.

“You should go see him, calm him down. He won’t kill you.”

You snort. “Right.”

“Think you can calm him down in the next 30 minutes?” He asks.

“I can try.” You stand up to start heading in the direction Max walked off in.

You find him sitting in a corner, drinking from his water bottle, his eyes trained on the ground ahead of him.

You stand next to him and run a hand through his hair. While he would usually lean into you, craving more of your touch, he doesn’t react now, unmoving from his current position.

“How are you?” You ask, in an attempt to tread safely.

He scoffs, shaking his head. “I’m great, how are you?” He doesn’t hide the sarcasm in his tone.

You tilt his chin up so that he’s looking you in the eyes. You can practically see the anger swimming around in the blue eyes you fell in love with.

“You know the press are going to eat you alive if you walk in with that attitude.” You tell him.

He rolls his eyes, and looks back down ahead of him. “They’ll be cheering, dancing on my grave.”

You glance down at your watch. 25 minutes until Max will be needed for press. 25 minutes to bring back your happy Max.

“C’mon.” You take his hand, and slowly pull him up.

“Where are we going?” He asks, following you.

You lead him back to Red Bull hospitality, taking him up to his driver’s room. It’s small, a massage table sits in the corner, a shelf against the wall with more race suits and fireproofs.

“You need to get your anger out before you go do press.” You tell him as you lock the door.

“What, do you want me to throw things around the room?” He asks with his hands on his hips.

“I want you to fuck me.” You tell him, your voice completely serious.

He looks shocked for a moment. The two of you were always pretty private in your relationship, never showing too much PDA, and never having sex anywhere outside of your home. His shock soon dissipates, and turns into thoughtfulness, as if he’s thinking about the risk versus the reward.

You walk towards him in the center of the room. Your hands lift to his shoulders, softly massaging them before your arms wrap around his neck. You lean your head towards his, softly nudging your nose against his. He already looks like he’s losing his self control, his eyes watch your lips as you whisper to him.

“Use me, Max.”

He dives down to kiss you, his lips firm against yours. There’s no asking for permission for his tongue to enter your mouth, it pushes past your lips and tangles with yours.

You grip onto his hair as he hoists you up on the massage table. He stands between your legs, trailing his lips down your neck, leaving a trail of teeth marks on any skin he can find.

He tugs your shirt and bra off, flinging them to some corner of the room, desperate to have access to more of you. He travels down your chest, his lips wrapping around one of your nipples, teeth softly biting at it while his fingers find the other, pinching at it. After he’s satisfied he switches to the other, continuing his work.

Your pants and underwear are the next to come off as Max trails his fingers along your center. He smirks when he feels your hips move to meet his hand.

He pulls a whimper from you when his thumb brushes against your clit. He kneels down, pulling you to the edge of the table and lifting your legs over his shoulders. His hands press down on your abdomen to keep you still as his tongue laps over you.

His nose brushes against your clit, send a jolt to your hips. His hands press down harder on you as his eyes look up to meet yours. They’re a stormy blue now, his pupils enlarged and eyelids hooded.

“Stay still.” He says, his voice low and rough.

His tongue is quick to continue prodding against you, slowly pushing inside you as you let you a long moan. One of your hands flies to his hair, tangling itself in his light brown locks, as your other keeps yourself propped up.

Your taste is sweet, one of his favorite flavors really.

“You taste so good mijn liefje.” He softly moans against you as he eats you out, his nose now bumping your clit over and over until you cry out his name, cumming on his tongue.

This only encourages him, as he takes everything you give him. Your body is tired, exhausted from keeping yourself upright, ready to collapse on the table.

Max stands up and it’s only then you realize that he’s still in his clothes, his race suit still hanging off his hips, while you’re completely bare in front of him.

“I’m not finished with you yet schat.” He shakes his head as he pulls you upright to kiss you.

You can taste yourself on him, but it doesn’t matter to you, not when he’s kissing you the way he is. It’s all tongue and teeth and it’s messy, but still so good.

He pulls you off the table, your legs slightly wobbling beneath you. You’re surprised when he turns you around, keeping your body trapped between his and the table. You hear his clothes move around some more, the thick fabric of his race suit rustling around, then you feel him softly kick your ankle with his leg.

You spread your legs for him, wide enough to allow him room, but still close enough that you can stand comfortably.

He reaches a hand around you to feel between your legs.

“Think you’re wet enough to take me?” He asks. Max has always been a caring lover, even in his dominant moods he still checks in with you.

“Yes Max, please fuck me.” You lean forward against the table and push your ass back against him. You can feel his cock press against you as he grabs onto your hips.

He fists himself a few times before lining himself up with you then pushing in.

The stretch is a lot but feels so good. Max stills for a moment, leaning down to press a kiss against the flushed skin on your back.

His sweet demeanor quickly turns back to his dominant one though, slowly pulling out, then giving a harsh thrust back into you. You try to grip onto the table for dear life as Max pounds into you from behind.

Your moans aren’t quiet, yet neither are his grunts. The door being the only thing blocking you from the rest of the Red Bull team is the farthest thing in your minds at the moment.

He wraps an arm around your middle pulling you up so that your back is pressed against his chest. He’s still wearing his fireproofs, only having pulled the pants down far enough so that he’d be able to bury himself inside you.

The new angle causes him to sink even deeper in you. You feel so full, so consumed by Max.

He grins when he feels you clench around him. His right hand travels over your body, squeezing your breasts before stopping over your neck. He wraps his hand around it, putting a slight pressure on it as his other drops back down to where the two of you meet. He finds your clit, and rubs quick harsh circles into it.

He lets out a low laugh as you clamp down even tighter around him. He leans his head down, his lips brushing against your ear as he teases you. “You like that? Does that feel good?”

Your mind is so clouded over that you can only moan in response.

“Oh, you can’t use your words? You’re just dumb for my cock huh? It’s a good thing you’re so pretty.” He bites down on your neck, sucking a dark hickey onto it. “Are you going to be a good girl and cum for me again?”

You nod your head, feeling something tighten in your core for the second time tonight.

It only takes a few more rough thrusts before he’s got you cumming again, his name falling out of your mouth like a prayer.

The hand on your clit moves to your hip so that he can control his movements. His release follows as his thrusts become sloppy and erratic. You feel his warm cum fill you up as he holds himself inside you. He keeps himself there as you both come down from your highs. He softly presses kisses to your back as you catch your breath.

You hiss when he slowly pulls himself out. His hand falls away from your neck as he uses both to make sure you don’t collapse to the floor. He turns you back around and lifts you back up onto the table.

He finds a towel and spreads your legs to help clean you up. The sight in front of him causes his cock to stir with interest again, his cum is seeping out of you, trailing down your thighs. Your skin shines with the layer of sweat that’s coated your body. Your chest rises and falls with every deep breath you take. Your neck has several marks along it, fresh hickeys to show what you’ve been up to.

“I wasn’t too rough, was I?” He asks, throwing the towel away to a corner of the room.

You give him a lazy smile. “Not at all. I really enjoyed that.”

“I love you.” He says, helping you back down from the table.

“I love you too.”

You’re both quiet at you get dressed again. You still feel a little wobbly on your feet, but are beginning to regain your balance.

“So do you think you can handle the press without chewing anyone’s head off?” You ask him as you both head to the door.

“Oh definitely.” He grins.

He wraps an arm around your waist as you leave his driver’s room and head back to the main area of the paddock.

Max gives you a quick kiss before he separates from you to do his post qualifying interviews, leaving you with the rest of the team.

When Christian spots you he sighs. “Y/n… no…” he says as he looks at the marks along your neck and the way your legs shake if you stand in one spot for too long.

You shrug. “What? You told me to calm him down.”

Needless to say everyone was surprised when Max was calm cool and collected during his interviews.

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen smut #max verstappen #formula one #formula one x reader #mv33

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arminsumi · 9 months

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requesting the first years witnessing gojo flirt with reader

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

𝐅𝐥𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

A/N: i love this idea sm i hope u like how i wrote it 👀💗

Wc ≈ 800

Pairing: GOJO Satoru x reader

Summary: Yuji, Nobara and Megumi 'accidentally' overheard you and Gojo flirting in the classroom 👀

Warnings; kinda cheesy/goofy/overdramatic, poor megumi lmfao

Passing down the hall, Yuji heard a murmuring of yours and Gojo’s voices coming from inside a vacant classroom, so he strained his ears to listen.

“I swear, your sweet tooth is insatiable… Gojo, you really should quit sugar.”

“Aw, but how could I possibly give you up?”

Yuji’s face contorted into amusement and disbelief after hearing that little exchange.

“Yuji, what the hell are you doing – ”

He hissed for Nobara to be quiet and come eavesdrop with him. So she did, albeit a bit confused at first, but in a few minutes she and him were stifling their snickering and pressing their cheeks flat to the thin sliding door.

“What did Y/n just say?? MEGUMI! Get over here.” Nobara whisper-shouted and beckoned the ravenette who appeared around the corner.

“Why?”

“JUST COME OVER HERE.”

“For what?!”

Yuji and Nobara practically dragged him over and forced him to join in their eavesdropping. He gives them a confused look but there’s a spark of curiosity in his eyes when he hears the murmur of your voice.

“I’m not your sugar, so stop calling me that – ”

“ – how about I call you my sugarbaby?”

“Satoru!” your giggle came from the other side of the door.

“Ooh, you’re calling my first name now? That’s so indecent.”

“I’m not gonna be your sugarbaby – ”

“ – you don’t want me to be your sugardaddy?!” Gojo acted offended and raised his voice.

Yuji and Nobara were desperately trying to keep it together, but their snickering and giggling kept getting worse until they were besides themselves with laughter – out of breath, seal-sounds and all. Megumi looked absolutely appalled and borderline distraught (he had a boyish crush on you).

“Stop eavesdropping, you three.”

“OH SHIT.” Nobara finally cracked and broke down laughing loudly with Yuji.

Gojo slid the door open with a smack, and they began to scramble immediately. You just peered from behind the desk where you were signing documents.

“W – wheehaha – we heard nothing! I swear!” Yuji promised.

“Sheesh, I didn’t think anyone in this world would be attracted to the likes of Gojo. Y/n, you can do better.” Nobara muttered.

“I – the audacity, I’m standing right here. Nobara, expect a forehead flick later.”

The three of them tumbled out of the halls and discussed you and Gojo like a hot topic.

“D’you think they’re like… actually dating?!” Yuji asked incredulously, standing on the last step of the stairs.

“Probably.” Nobara shrugged.

“Ugh…”

“Cheer up, Megumi. It’s not the end of the world.” Yuji chuckled.

Megumi just pouted and sat on the stairs, spreading his legs out and looking up at the sky very melancholically. He was so dramatic that the other two just laughed.

“D’you think they actually went on a date last weekend?” Yuji pondered.

“Ohhh… yeah, that’s probably what that was all about.”

“Gross!” Megumi whined.

“Megumi I’ve never seen you so jealous before.”

“What the hell, I’m not jealous!” he denounced.

Gojo came out to meet those three at the base of the stairs at just the right moment.

“You always say that you’re gonna marry Y/n when you grow up.” Yuji said.

“NO I DON’T? YOU’RE TWISTING MY WORDS, YUJI.”

Gojo placed a big hand on his head and gave him the fright of his life. He groaned when he realized you two just heard everything. Yuji and Nobara lost it laughing again.

“Sorry to steal your future wife.” He joked.

“BRO WHAT THE HELL – YUJI’S JUST JOKING!” Megumi’s cheeks reddened.

You walked out next, just the sight of you threw Nobara and Yuji right back into a fit of laughter that they were just struggling to get out of.

“Megumi, what’s the matter?” you asked.

“Nothing, I’m good – YUJI SHUT UP!”

He tackled Yuji right as he opened his mouth to say something. “Nobara – don’t – you – dare.”

“Hey future wife.” Gojo greeted you cheekily. You rolled your eyes.

“Hey future ex-husband.” You responded.

Megumi looked so comically distraught, the other two were howling. Gojo just smirked and sunk his hands into his pockets.

“You two, why is Megumi distraught?” you asked them suspiciously.

“He has a crush on you.” Nobara said.

Megumi went fully red. He looked as if he was contemplating summoning Shikigami on Nobara. Before he even checked your reaction or paid attention to his other teacher’s stifled giggles, he went rigid and stiffly walked away.

“So future wife… about that date.” Gojo said rather loudly.

“I KNEW IT!” Yuji hollered. Him and Nobara went off again, Megumi let out the most dramatic groan you’ve ever heard.

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pixiesfz · 3 months

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teammates k.c

plot: you vowed never to date a teammate every again.

warning: suggestive, sorry Courtney Nevin I love you

You swore you would never date a teammate again.

At first you opened your arms to the idea, your heart exploded when your crush kissed you at your game at the under 17’s World Cup.

You remembered Courtney’s smirk when you backed away with fluttery eyes and blushed cheeks.

You didn’t know the heartbreak it would cause you months later.

“Courtney we only see eachother at camps I- I don’t think I can do the long distance anymore” you sobbed to the blonde girl who sat on the bed next to you.

Courtney stayed silent, looking down at her feet.

“Please say something” you begged, leaning over to grab her hand.

“I slept with someone” she blurted out and you quickly pulled your hands away, your mind ran a thousand miles per hour.

You stayed silent as she was now the one who was begging from a sound out of your mouth.

“With who?”

“Just some random girl- I swear it didn’t mean anything I swear” she talked but you jumped off the bed.

“Courtney I need you to stay away from me right now, or for a while” you muttered, walking back to the door.

“y/n”

But it was too late you had slammed the door shut, making your way to your and Mary’s shared room.

You swore never to date a teammate again.

You had met Kerstin through Mary, constantly having to deal with the girl FaceTiming her Man City friend. “Fowler let your friend sleep” she laughed as it was clear you were trying to sleep in the background.

“Please listen to her Mary I told Kyra I would sit next to her in the bus and she won’t let me sleep”

You heard the Dutch woman’s laugh in the other end as Mary huffed.

During many camps after that you were invited into the FaceTimes, sometimes even talking to Kerstin yourself whilst Mary’s in the bathroom or running errands.

You found your cheeks blushing one time after a game, you were talking to Kirsten as Mary was washing her hair for the teams dinner tonight.

“I took Inspiration from you” she smirked “oh how?” You asked and she lifted her arm

You tried not to draw your eyes to the veins that popped out but you couldn’t help yourself. “Look a number three, inspired by your hatrick” she laughed and you rolled your head back “what is it you Australians say…you’re a gun!” She cheered and you blushed, too embarrassed to see the notification that Kirstin had taken a screenshot at the interaction.

Mary walked into the room with her hair wrapped up in a towel “looking fancy” you stated and panned the phone to her “nice Fowler, looking scrumptious” the Dutch girl laughed and you joined.

“if you guys are ganging up on me now I wonder what it’s going to be like when y/n joins city” Mary sighed and Kerstin gasped “your joining city?” She asked and you nodded your head “signed a contract not that long ago, so surprise?”

You were welcomed to City with open arms from all the girls Alanna taking you under her wing as she felt protective over you.

After all she was the one who caught you crying in the hallway after Courtney had told you she cheated, your eyes filled up with so much tears you could barely see.

“How’s Manchester treating you?” Allan’s asked as you sat with her and Leila, a Spaniard you had grown close with.

“Good I’m enjoying my time here everyone is so nice”

Whilst the three of you sat in the corner Jill cornered Kerstin who was ‘subtly’ looking at you from the other side of the room.

“You like her” Jill piped up and Kerstin jumped “nuekan!” She whisper yelled and Jill smirked “no I don’t” she denied.

“Yes you do”

“No I don’t”

“Yes you do”

“Yes I do”

Jill smiled triumphantly and clapped her hands together “then ask her out” Jill encouraged

“Ask who out?”

The two Dutch girls widened their eyes at Mary who had innocently jumped in on their conversation “uhm” Kerstin started and Jill looked around.

“Nobody”

“Y/n”

The two spoke at the same time and Mary’s eyes widened as she turned to her friend and hit her “why did you tell Jill before me” she said as Kerstin pulled away “ow stop” she said as Jill laughed and turned to Mary, pulling her away from her friend.

“So” Jill trailed off “do you know what y/n thinks of Kerstin?” She asked and Mary’s face fell and with that so did Kerstins “oh my god” she groaned.

‘I’m so stupid’ she thought but Mary grabbed her arm “It’s not that she doesn’t but it’s just that she doesn’t date teammates, she’s very big on it” Mary said and Jill shrugged “why?”

“Well when we were younger her and Courtney dated during Matilda’s camps and well when Courtney moved to Leicester and y/n stayed in Melbourne well…” she trailed off

“It’s easy for a couple to break up cause of long distance” Kerstin said as she thought of couples she knew “it wasn’t just the long distance, Courtney cheated on her and it really hurt her, so she’s vowed ever since” Mary said and the two girls nodded “oh” was all Kerstin said as she looked over to where you sat.

You were roomed with Mary for your first away game as your international teammate now was on edge from keeping Kerstins secret from you.

“You and Kerstin are close” she spoke up and you blushed, thankfully you were facing away from your friend so she couldn’t see the small smile that erupted on your face.

“I guess” you shrugged and Mary nodded “I know you vowed off dating-“

“Mary” you warned her and she groaned “I know but Kerstin isn’t like that”

“Yeah well I thought Courtney wasn’t like that either” you defended and Mary dropped her head “look” you started “if we weren’t teammates and there was no chance of having a weird team dynamic after we break up sure yes I would take her on a date” you shrugged

“I mean she’s nice, really cute, makes me laugh aswell as laughs at my jokes and has the tattoos that I’m attracted to and sure she would probably make a good girlfriend and-“ you stopped talking as you looked up to your fellow Aussie who was grinning ear to ear.

“I like her” you realised

“You like her a lot” Mary sang out and you slapped her.

You didn’t know what to do with your newfound information. Everytime Kerstin came up to you at trainings or at games you blushed and ran away like a little school girl.

“Y/n/n what’s up?” she asked you one day as she ran behind you “oh nothing” you trailed “any weekend plans?” She asked shakily as you both stopped.

You could lie and say no just incase she wanted to hang out but you found yourself wanting to hang out with her, by yourself…with nobody else there.

“None at the moment why?” You asked with a smile and the girl blushed “we should go out for coffee or lunch or something” she said and your breath hitched “or we could not-“

“I’d like that actually” you smiled and the Dutch girl nodded “great”

And with no thought your mouth betrayed you.

“Sounds like a date”

And you ran off.

The weekend came and you found yourself with Kerstin walking through a couple of clothe stores before you went out.

You couldn’t lie and say you didn’t like the way how Kirsten’s body would press behind you when you looked at a top for too long.

“That would great on you” she mumbled, her breath hitting your neck due to the height difference.

The top was nice and you were looking for your size until and idea popped into your head.

You turned your body to her, faces inches apart “how about we buy a piece of clothing for eachother and wear it out”

“wear it to our date?” She asked and you smiled, nodding and dropping your head to hide your blush.

“Okay but the top I like for you is near so close your eyes” she said with a grin as you did so “you pick yours then I pick mine I saw something at the start that is perfect”

Kerstin tried to be quick as she picked up a flowy top near where you stood, she remembered how your eyes lingered on it when you walked in.

“Okay I’m done” she announced before you smiled, a jump in your step as you made your way to a sweater vest that you knew that she would like and you knew she would look hot in.

“Okay I’m done too” you said and the Dutch girl laughed “alright let’s go pay and then get changed because we are already five minutes late to our reservation”

Getting changed you tried to ignore the way your heart was racing when she picked out the top that you secretly hoped that she would.

Kerstin stepped out with a grin “Love it” she smiled and lifted up her arms to flex as you laughed but secretly admired.

You both sat down and ate, Kerstin offering to pay as she invited you out. “Well next time I’m paying” you told her

“Next time?” Kerstin asked and you sheepishly nodded “yeah”.

It wasn’t until your next international camp that your teammates buckled down on you.

“No love life in Manchester?” Kyra teased as you smiled and you blushed, ignoring the stare on your face from a certain blonde.

“She would tell me” Alanna boasted and Mary choked on her food “no she would not” Caitlin told her “Yeah Lani if I was y/n I wouldn’t want you Interrogating my new girl” Mackenzie laughed.

“Well is there?” Charli asked with a grin and you shook your head as a ‘no’ but your facial expressions betrayed you.

“Who?!”

“What?!”

“I have to approve!”

“Aight everyone off her” Mary laughed before Steph quirked her eyebrow “you know” she stated and Mary shrugged “Well I’m the one who has to leave our room whenever she comes over” she groaned and you laughed from your spot.

“So does she follow you for all your matches?” Teagan asked and you nodded “you could say that”.

You laid on top of Kerstin, straddling her hips as you kissed down her neck “you know people are starting to catch on” you smiled, lifting your head up to press a kiss to her lips.

“So let them I don’t care” she mumbled “you’re just saying that cause you’re enjoying me right now.

“I have a pretty girl on top of me what else is there to ask for?”

“The FA cup?” You perked up as you both laughed.

“I’m just happy I finally got my own room this camp” you tutted “also my team knows I’m seeing someone but they don’t know who”

“Even Courtney?” Kerstin asked and you nodded. You saw hunger creep into your soon to be girlfriend’s eyes as you talked about your ex.

“I don’t like that your with her for the week” she said, her grip tightening on your hips.

“Then why don’t we show her that I’m taken” you smirked , leaning back down and kissing Kerstin.

You moaned in pleasure as she moved her lips down your neck, sucking hard on certain parts, knowing when to stop so they wouldn’t show up for your Matilda’s game.

You decided that you liked it when Kerstin was jealous.

You broke away as Both your hands went to the ends of your top, trying to take it off before knocking was heard at your door.

“Y/n!” Little Harper Gorrys voice yelled out as you rolled off Kerstin pulling your top back down “ow” you cursed and threw a blanket over Kerstins body who was silently laughing at your fall.

Opening the door you looked down to Harper who was smiling “you make weird noises in your sleep” she giggled and you nodded “where’s your mum?” You asked and she pointed down the hallway where you saw Katrina talking to Allanna who was on the phone.

“There you are Harps” Katrina smiled and walked over to you where Harper put her hands out for her “go to mama” you coed as Allanna got off the phone.

“Hey you and Kerstin are close yeah?” she asked and you nodded “yes” you nodded, panic laced in your voice as the said girl was hidden underneath a blanket metres away.

“Jill called said she’s not at the hotel they’re staying at” she said “oh” you mumbled, trying to look around your room to see if there was a clear body on your bed.

But a gasp was heard.

Katrina had her hand to her face and the running footsteps of both Kyra and Mary were heard as they went to your room.

“You have a hickey!”

“I know who you y/n is seeing!”

The mother daughter duo spoke at the same time as all eyes returned on you.

“Did your girlfriend follow you to Netherland for one game?” Alanna asked as Katrina laughed.

“That’s who you’re seeing?” She asked, putting the pieces together and you sheepishly nodded.

“Who?” Alanna asked, still confused as your nerves rose but a hand grabbed onto your back for comfort.

“Jeez Lani you’ve suffered one too many concussions in your life”

“KERSTIN!”

she latched onto your waist and placed her head on your shoulder “surprise?”

#woso #woso x reader #matildas #woso soccer #woso community #kerstin casparij #kerstin casparij x reader #manchester city #alanna kennedy #jill roord

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zepskies · 11 months

Text

Love Actually - Part 1

Paring: Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader

Summary: Ben gets in late on Christmas Eve with a Grinch-like attitude, but you’re determined to force some holiday cheer into his system.

AN: Here’s my last entry for the TGWRC: Christmas in July event! It’s set in the same world as “Break Me Down,” and set before “Checkerboard.” But this can be read as a stand-alone! Hope you enjoy…

Theme: Christmas movies Prompt: “That’s a poor excuse for a tree.”

Word Count: 3,100 Tags/Warnings: SB being himself, wee bit of angst, potential fluff overload!

Part 1: "Humbug"

He was late.

It was Christmas Eve, and your boyfriend was late.

With a large bowl of popcorn in your lap, you sunk further into your favorite corner of the couch, drumming your nails on its arm.

Your favorite Christmas movie played on the ridiculously large flatscreen Ben had insisted on when you two moved into this apartment. But you couldn’t get into the story like you normally would.

It was the first Christmas you and Ben were spending together since he’d started working with, instead of against Supe Affairs and the CIA. In fact, he was on an extended mission—hunting down a rogue supe in Idaho, of all places.

Freakin’ Idaho. Goddamn potatoes, you thought irrationally, shoving another handful of popcorn into your mouth.

While he’d been gone, you went all out in decorating the apartment: red and white candles, stockings, various ornaments, multicolored string lights, and poinsettias. You’d even found a nice little tree that fit in the only free corner of the living room.

Well, you’d had to rearrange some furniture to make that happen, but in the end you’d succeeded. It felt like you were living at the bottom of a snow globe.

You hadn’t heard from Ben at all in over two weeks. The day he left you outside your office in the Surveillance department replayed often in your mind.

Two weeks ago…

“Don’t give me that face, baby doll.”

Ben quirked a smile at your concerned frown, and he propped a gentle fist under your chin. You crossed your arms.

You knew he had to go. Butcher and the rest of the guys were waiting outside the S.A. office. And you were proud of him for what he was doing, genuinely trying to put in the work on this “hero” thing. But you didn’t have to like the timing. It was only two weeks until Christmas.

“Fine,” you agreed. “Just get this guy quick. I don’t want to hear my aunt’s shady-ass sniping. Every time I show up to a family gathering by myself, she starts plotting my arranged marriage to her fucking pediatrist, her divorce attorney—mind the irony there—or even the guy who packages meat at the grocery store—”

“All right, Christ. I’ll be back in fucking time,” said Ben. He grabbed your arms to stop your verbal flapping. Then with a grin, his hands moved to the curve of your waist, down to get a healthy grip of your ass.

“’Sides, I’m the only one flingin’ meat around here,” he said with a deepening smirk.

You rolled your eyes, but a smile threatened to take over your frown as he pulled you flush against him, trapping your hands against his broad chest. You found purchase on the hard fabric of his uniform.

“You’re so gross,” you said. But you pulled him down for a searing kiss. If you weren’t going to see his handsome face for a while, then you were going to make the most of this moment.

And it seemed your boyfriend felt the same way; his arms wrapped around your frame like steel bands. Your fingers swept through his hair as your tongue slipped into his mouth, making his grip on you tighten with a pleased hum.

“Oi! Sid and fuckin’ Nancy,” Butcher called from down the hall. “Got a fucking job to do. Today, if you don’t mind.”

Ben broke away from you, just enough to frown in irritation over your head.

“Calm your fucking tits, Churchill. I’ll leave when I’m good and damn ready.”

You couldn’t help but giggle into his chest.

Now, it was quite literally hours away from Christmas Day.

You would be seeing your family tomorrow, regardless. You and Ben were supposed to go to your mother’s house for dinner. But you were starting to think that he might not make it tonight, let alone tomorrow.

And if you had to deal with your aunt nosing into your personal business again, your hand might just “slip” while pouring yourself a rum-filled eggnog, so you wouldn’t be held liable for your actions when you inevitably snapped on the bitch.

Sighing, you continued munching on some popcorn while you focused on one of your favorite parts of Love Actually. Hugh Grant was shaking his ass to “Jump In” by the Pointer Sisters.

The music was infectious, and you found yourself doing a little shimmy yourself on the couch in time with one of your favorite rom-com Brits.

With the TV volume as loud as it was, not even the door of your apartment unlocking could stop your mini-jam session.

And the door soon opened, revealing a dusty, soot-covered Benjamin, still in his supe suit and tactical gear. He took a small step back when the gaudy Christmas décor assaulted his eyes, but he blinked through it as he turned his head.

His lips curved at the familiar sight of you—bundled up in your pajamas and a fuzzy blanket on the couch, bopping to the beat of some shitty ‘80s song he actually recognized. You were alternatively mouthing the words and eating fistfuls of popcorn.

Shaking his head, Ben stepped into the apartment and shut the door with some force. You finally perked up at the sound, your smile alight with happiness when you realized he was home. That alone made him soften a bit.

“Ben!” You paused your movie and bounded over to greet him with a warm hug and a deep kiss.

He brushed your hair back and allowed himself to revel in the familiarity of you in his arms.

“Aren’t you a fucking sight,” he murmured.

Ben was still getting used to having someone to come home to, but it was grounding. This place was his home now, mostly because you were in it.

“You okay? How did it go?” you asked, wiping off some soot from his cheek.

“Who do you think you’re talking to?” Ben offered you a cocky smile. “We smoked that pyro bitch.”

Your eyes narrowed. “You what?”

“Relax, the supe’s alive,” he said, rolling his eyes, as if it grated him to admit it. He wouldn’t tell you that the supe had two broken arms and probably a crack in his skull. “Being shipped off to prison as we speak.”

You nodded with a smile. “Good. I’m proud of you.”

His lips pulled at a grin. But then you took his face between your hands with a hard slap (though it didn’t even sting, the point was made in your annoyed frown).

“You’re late,” you said. Ben raised a brow.

“Excuse me?” he said.

“You heard me. You’re fucking late,” you repeated. “Go take a shower. I already started the first movie without you.”

You tugged him by the hand and all but pushed him into the hall that led to your shared bedroom.

Ben wasn’t one to be manhandled though. He dug his heels in obstinately.

“Christ, I just got home. All I want to do is sleep…unless you want to give me a proper fucking welcome.”

He glanced at you over his shoulder with a more than suggestive smirk. He turned around and pulled you into his firm chest. His hands smoothed down your back and squeezed your hips, with his thumbs dragging under the hem of your pajama top.

While your lips threatened a smile, you had to wonder how he had enough energy for reunion sex, but not enough to watch a simple movie.

Still, his offer was all-too tempting, making heat prickle along your skin wherever he touched. Nonetheless, you managed to remain stubborn and pushed gently against his chest.

“Down, boy,” you said. “If I let you get your hands on me now, I’ll never get through my list.”

First it was Love Actually, then Christmas Vacation, followed swiftly by Home Alone and its sequel, Lost In New York.

Ben frowned at you. “So? Watch ‘em tomorrow.”

“In case you’ve forgotten, it’s Christmas Eve.”

You gestured to all your hard work in the form of the decorated apartment.

“Tomorrow, we have dinner at my mom’s house. So tonight, you’re gonna go shower," you said, pointing at him. "I’m going to make some more hot chocolate, and we’re watching all manner of cheesy, romantic, and downright silly Christmas movies until your Grinch-ass gets some holiday spirit.”

Ben released a tired sigh and dropped his hands away from you.

“I haven’t slept in three fucking days," he said. "I’m not staying up all night again for some corny bullshit.”

You frowned in disappointment.

“Ben, come on. Please?” you tried, but he just waved a dismissive hand and continued his way to the bedroom.

For a moment, you watched him go in disbelief. Was he really going to be like that?

With a flash of hot annoyance, you huffed and decided that you weren’t going to let him ruin the night for you.

So you went into the kitchen and whipped up some hot cocoa, breaking out the actual Godiva chocolate bars you bought just for this moment. You poured out one mug initially. But you listened to the old water pipes working, knowing that Ben must’ve been taking a shower.

You knew he wasn’t just tired. He didn’t seem to be looking forward to tomorrow either, and was going along with it for your sake. Which, to be fair, could just mean he still wasn’t totally comfortable around your family. (Your sister Luisa still hadn’t totally warmed up to him.)

You also had a feeling that he just wasn’t into Christmas.

The question was why…

But you poured a mug for him anyway, adding some mini marshmallows into each one. You brought both mugs with you back to the living room and set them down on the coffee table.

Getting comfortable on the couch again, complete with your blanket, mug, and the popcorn bowl, you pressed “play” and continued watching the movie…even though you felt just a bit lonelier.

But then, a weight dropped on the other end of the couch. You flinched and looked over at your now clean and pajama-clad boyfriend, who eyed you begrudgingly with his arms crossed over a soft plain shirt.

You smiled at him warmly. “Hey, baby.”

His grouchy face was the very picture of “humbug.” Biting your lip, you set down the popcorn on the coffee table and handed him the spare cup of hot chocolate.

“I made some for you,” you said. He gave you a brief nod and took a dutiful sip. But not even rich, chocolatey goodness could curb his sour mood as he stared blandly at the screen.

You knew that face. That was his, I’ll do this for you, but I’m not gonna fucking like it—face.

When he stifled a yawn, you knew that he hadn’t been lying. He really was tired. Sometimes you forgot that while Ben was all but indestructible, even he had his limits. Chasing that rogue supe across the country must’ve taken it out of him, even if he wouldn’t admit it.

So you reached over and plucked the mug out of his hand. His brows knit together as he watched you set it down on the coffee table with yours. Then you grabbed his hand.

“Come ‘ere,” you said, tugging him toward you.

“What now?” he groused.

“Just come on. Don’t bitch,” you teased. You guided him to lay across the couch, with his head pillowed in your lap. You grabbed an extra throw blanket off the back of the couch and draped it over him, making sure that it covered him up to his chest.

“What am I, a damn kid?” he said. But you knew his griping had no real weight. Already he was humming deep with pleasure as your fingers carded through his soft brown hair. You let your nails drag lightly over his scalp, massaging his head. Your free hand stroked his cheek.

Ben closed his eyes for a moment and let out a sigh through his nose. The movie continued to play, but you were no longer paying much attention. This was more important.

When he opened his eyes again, they were drawn to the small, four-foot Christmas tree in the corner of the room, next to the TV.

“That’s a poor fucking excuse for a tree,” he said.

You frowned and followed his gaze.

“I think it’s adorable,” you replied. And it was the only one you thought would fit in this cozy, but very narrow apartment.

Ben’s arms crossed over his blanket.

“I’ll go tomorrow, find us a real fucking tree,” he said.

Your frown deepened a little. “But I already decorated this one. All by myself, I might add.”

He eyed you then, a bit softer.

“All right, we’ll get a second one for the dining room,” he grumbled. “Getting the tree up is a man’s job anyway.”

You rolled your eyes at that. But you tried to see if there was anything deeper to read in his words. Not for the first time, you wondered how he’d spent his holidays in the past. No doubt with a lot of fanfare and celebrity parties during his hay day as Soldier Boy. You were more interested in his life before that.

“I remember, my mom would run the show at Christmas,” Ben said.

You blinked down at him in surprise. Without knowing, he’d opened up on your exact curiosity.

Or maybe he just knew you better than you thought.

“She’d have all the help in a damn tear around the house. Cooking, decorating, the whole nine yards. It was a perfect scene, like something out of a catalogue,” said Ben. “But getting the tree was always my dad’s job. His only job, really.”

You smiled and continued to listen with rapt attention. Your thumb continued to stroke along his neck.

“One year, he got this massive one. Must’ve been…I don’t know, twenty feet. I don’t even know how he got it through the door, but he was mighty fucking proud of himself,” Ben said.

His gaze trailed beyond you, lost in faded memories. They played in his mind like a reel, wordless, but bright and warm.

“Who decorated it?” you asked. Your voice drew his attention back.

“Me and him,” Ben admitted, surprising you yet again. “Meanwhile, Mom baked up a storm for the Christmas party they threw every year…”

It was a rare moment where Ben recalled what seemed to be a nice memory of his father. But soon enough, the nostalgia dimmed from his eyes.

He cleared his throat and swiped a hand over his mouth, as if that could erase his moment of vulnerability.

Then he turned to face the TV screen.

“So what’s even happening here? Seems like there’s four goddamn movies playing at once.”

You cracked a smile and continued brushing your fingers through his hair. You also rewinded the movie so he could actually follow the story.

“Yeah, that’s what makes this movie so classic. See, there’s Emma Thompson and Alan Rickman. They’re married, kids, the perfect life, right? But he’s actually cheating on her with a younger, sluttier woman.”

“…And this is a fucking Christmas movie?”

“Yeah, you’ll see. Then there’s Liam Neeson.”

Ben perked up at that. “The Taken guy?”

You nodded. “Yep! He’s a widower, but he has a stepson who’s got a sweet little crush. So he’s gonna try and help the kid impress the girl by helping him learn the drums.”

Your boyfriend nodded.

“Musicians get plenty of pussy, that’s for damn sure,” he said. And with a knowing grin, “Actors get more though.”

You snorted and pointed to Hugh Grant next. “He’s my favorite. He’s playing the Prime Minister, who falls in love with his assistant, Natalie. That’s her right there.”

Ben raised a brow at your choice of “favorite.” If nothing else, he noted your type for older men.

But he smirked when Natalie kept verbally fumbling in Hugh’s presence, then stared along with the Prime Minister at the woman’s ass when she walked away at the end of the scene.

“Hmm, I’ll admit. She’s got a juicy peach,” Ben remarked. You laughed and hit his shoulder playfully. It worked an amused smile onto his face.

He took your hand from his shoulder and pressed the back of it to his lips. You blinked down at him, and you warmed with a smile at seeing his more relaxed face.

He kept your hand on his chest, his thumb drawing back and forth over your wrist.

So you proceeded to explain the various angles of the movie until he was all caught up.

You two watched the rest of it together. Like always, you cried when Colin Firth poured his heart out to his housekeeper, Aurélia, half in his mangled Portuguese and half in English. You cried again when Emma’s character finally confronted her cheating bastard husband.

And you held your breath when Hugh and Natalie kissed as the stage curtain fell down, revealing their relationship to the world.

By the time the credits rolled, you were an emotional mess. You were happy though. Typically you’d watch this movie with your sister, but it was nice to share the holidays with someone…

Someone who loved you enough to curb his Grinch attitude about cheesy romantic things, like tree decorating and watching rom-coms with hot cocoa.

You glanced down, and sure enough, Ben was asleep. He had turned onto his stomach. His head still rested in your lap, his cheek pillowed by your thigh, and he had a hand curled around your leg. Your big, growling bear of a man had a gooey center that sometimes surprised even you.

For one mischievous moment, you considered sticking a piece of popcorn up his nose.

He looked so damn peaceful that you didn’t want to ruin it…yet now you couldn’t get up either.

Shit, you thought, but your grin was soft. Oh, whatever. Sleep is overrated.

You queued up Chevy Chase’s Christmas Vacation next in your movie marathon and settled in. You laid a gentle hand on Ben’s back, between his broad shoulders.

And his story about his parents returned to the forefront of your mind.

Maybe he didn’t hate Christmas. Maybe it was just difficult for him to remember the genuinely good ones. Maybe he missed his parents; both of them, despite how contentious it had been between him and his father.

You could certainly understand that. But now, you would make sure he would remember this one for the “good” column.

You only startled a little when your cell phone chimed on the coffee table. The screen read 12:00 a.m. It was officially December 25th.

You then felt Ben’s warm hand squeeze your leg. His eyes were still shut though, his breathing deep and even in sleep.

With a smile, you leaned down and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

And you whispered in his ear, “Merry Christmas, Ben.”

AN: Yay! I hope you liked this fluffy one for SB. 🎄❤️

Did you like Ben's little day trip down memory lane? Let me know in the comments! 😘

**Note: There will be two more parts to this due to popular request!

Keep Reading: PART 2

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Tag List:

@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26 @spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort

@xoxovienna @katherineann83 @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28 @nancymcl @ashbatz @secretdreamlandmentality @kristophalis @wonderland2022 @emily-winchester @shelh93 @sl33pylilbunny @spoonmynoodle @chernayawidow

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@spnfamily-j2 @im-a-slut-for-fluff @lacilou @venicesem @mimaria420 @beautiful-life-coded @tearsfortheyouth @agalliasi @chriszgirl92

#Love Actually #Part 1 #soldier boy #soldier boy/ben x reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x female reader #the boys #soldier boy x you #tgwrcjulyevent #dw's witch events #Christmas in July!#TGWRC #break me down verse #Christmas fic #fluff #zepskies writes

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laundrybiscuits · 2 years

Text

“It’s happening,” crows Dustin. “Eddie, it’s happening, it’s happening, she said yes!”

Eddie blinks up at him from the blankets. “Is…this about your little girlfriend, Henderson?” Is there a school dance coming up or something? Wait, it’s the summer, school’s not happening.

In a just world, Eddie Munson would never have to think about high school again; in a just world, Dustin Henderson would not have woken him up by breaking into his trailer at ass o’clock in the morning.

“No, man, Erica! Erica Sinclair! She’s gonna run a My Little Pony game for us!”

“Okay.” Eddie turns over to bury his face in his pillow. “Lock up when you leave,” he says, muffled.

———

He honest-to-god thinks it’s just a weird dream for the next few days. He’s almost completely forgotten about it when Mike corners him at work.

“You have to make her stop,” Mike says.

“Okay, Wheeler, two things. First: who am I making stop what? Second: I’m not making anyone stop anything. Really not my style, and also, I don’t wanna get involved in whatever this is.”

“You’re already involved! We’re all involved! We’re all, like, liable.”

“Right.” Eddie wipes his hands on a rag and ambles over. “Kid, you have got to start giving me some context here. What are we talking about?”

Mike gives him just the absolute bitchiest eyeroll any human being has ever mustered in the history of the world, and sighs noisily. “Erica wants to run a stupid game, and Dustin keeps encouraging her. Tell Erica and Dustin that we play Dungeons and Dragons with like, cool monsters and shit. Not some stupid game about ponies. It’s not even D&D, it’s a whole new stupid system that she’s making us learn.”

“Oh, shit.” There’s—a few things to unpack in that little speech, but Eddie can’t help the delighted grin spreading over his face. “That’s for real? The pony game? Shit, this is going to be the best thing ever. What system is she planning to run the campaign in?”

“Oh my god,” says Mike, and storms out of the garage.

———

“GURPS: Generic Universal Role-Playing System,” announces Erica, slamming the books down on Steve’s kitchen table. “A flexible, multi-purpose, setting-agnostic system that can accommodate any conceivable type of story or play style. This is the future of role-playing games, not your broke-ass fantasy bullcrap.”

Eddie wonders how complicated it is to file paperwork for adoption.

“Some of us like D&D,” says Will.

“Yeah, we don’t want your stupid generic whatever. We’re not playing,” Mike snaps.

“That’s not what I said.” Will looks annoyed with Mike, which has been happening a lot lately. Eddie’s glad the kid seems to be growing more of a spine; you can’t just let your tragic heterosexual crushes walk all over you, but that’s the kind of lesson every young gay needs to learn the hard way. “I’m fine with trying something new. I’m just saying, the next campaign after this should be D&D.”

“Sure, what-ever, nerds,” drawls Erica. “We’ll see how you feel after you experience the magic of Ponyland.”

Lucas puts his face in his hands when she says the magic of Ponyland and lets out a pitiful groan.

“Whoo!” cheers Dustin. “Let’s get started!”

———

It takes them a solid two hours to make their characters. Even Eddie, who’s been vaguely aware of GURPS since it was released a couple years ago, is struggling a little to adapt. It’s just been a while since he played anything but D&D, but he’s enjoying the change of pace. He likes this kind of challenge; it’s like figuring out how to play a familiar song in an unfamiliar genre.

Erica is not especially patient with them, but she’s clearly done her prep work, so Eddie thinks they all manage to get through the character creation process more or less the way it’s supposed to be done.

Steve gets back from work right when they’re putting the finishing touches on their characters. The way he blinks all sweetly confused makes Eddie think that Dustin was definitely lying about having permission to play here, and also that Dustin probably has a very troubling stash of keys to all their homes squirreled away somewhere.

“If I may, Lady Sinclair, I’d like to humbly suggest a ten-minute break?” Eddie says, before Steve can decide whether or not to be mad about this whole thing.

“Sure, go ahead and rest up while you still can,” says Erica. “Steve, I hope you got good snacks around here.” She makes a beeline for the kitchen, and the boys trip over themselves to follow her.

“I would die for that child,” says Eddie.

Steve laughs, low and a little tired. “Yeah. Um, me too.”

“So, I’m gonna go ahead and guess that Henderson didn’t actually clear this with you?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure.” Steve runs a hand through his hair. “He might’ve said something last week? Sometimes when he’s on a tear, I just kinda let him talk.”

“Y’know, we’re at a pretty good stopping point for today, if you want us to clear out so you can get some rest.” Eddie can see the smudgy shadows under Steve’s eyes from halfway across the room.

“No, it’s fine.” Steve peels off his vest. He’s wearing an entire perfectly normal shirt underneath, so there’s no reason for Eddie to hastily avert his eyes like Steve’s doing a damn striptease. “I might go take a nap, though. Gonna trust you not to let them burn down the place, got it?”

Eddie does a silly little salute. “Aye aye, cap’n. No hint of flame shall breach these walls.”

Steve laughs again, a gravelly chuckle, and musses Eddie’s hair on his way to the stairs.

“Why do you have that dumb look on your face,” says Erica suspiciously, standing in the kitchen doorway and clutching the biggest bowl of ice cream Eddie’s seen in his life.

“What look, there’s no look,” says Eddie. “Let’s play some GURPS.”

Edit: now a complete fic on AO3!

#steddie #(barely)#yep it's a new one folks!!#I do not promise that this will have any continuation whatsoever #I've just loved the idea of Erica running a MLP GURPS campaign for ages #and thought it'd be fun to write something up since a lot of my current WIPs don't really involve the kids at all #and also I wanted to write something with waaaay lower stakes than the hanahaki AU #sometimes I am like 'maybe I should space these out to have a consistent flow of content and a buffer' but uhhhh no. that's not happening.#fic: what will today's adventure be

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morallyinept · 5 months

Text

A Christmas One Shot follow up to my Joel Miller series, Five Days.

Five Days Series Masterlist

☝🏻It would be ideal for you to read the series first if you haven't yet, as this one shot follows on from this series directly. You can read it as a stand alone, but some things might not make sense.

Summary: Months after the final events in Five Days, you and Joel prepare for the next event in your lives at the commune - your wedding day.

Pairing: Post-Outbreak Joel Miller x MatureF!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. However reader is of a similar age range as Joel; in her late forties/early fifties. Joel is slightly older at 56.)

Word Count: 7.7k

Scoville Smut Rating:🌶️🌶️🌶️ “You tell me I’m doing well, and then, you try to kill me.”

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.

Explicit - Unprotected PIV (wrap up, folks!)/oral M receiving/fingering/angst/mentions of death

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ.

☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned. If this story isn't for you, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.

Author’s Note: An additional festive part, wrapping up Joel and Reader's journey, with a spangly Christmas bow on top. Thank you again to everyone who has read and enjoyed Five Days. Truly means the world. Happy Holidays! 🎄

Enjoy! 🖤

FIVE DAYS SERIES MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

Your breath fogs the pane, a condensed, misty cloud as you breathe, surveying the view below in the main square.

The small commune square is adorned with makeshift festive decorations, remnants of the world that once thrived with the capitalist depiction of it all. Buzzing with a distinct holiday cheer, despite the lees of the post-apocalyptic world surrounding it just outside the gates.

Improvised string lights hang from makeshift structures with a welcome, twinkling glow, despite the sky still being light outside, albeit a little more grey now. The pleasant threat of more snowfall lingers in the distance.

In one corner, a group of children - some of whose faces you can put names to now - their laughter echoing through the air, work together to craft snowmen from the scarce patches of snow that still adorn the ground from the recent flurry.

This winter hasn’t been as harsh as you’d expected yet, but the winter of your discourse still remains heavy on your shoulders despite finding some semblance of daily normality here.

You even have a job now, tending to the horses. It’s basically mucking out and feeding, but you’re keen to learn and prove yourself as someone who can pull their weight. Plus, being parted from the black mare for too long, whom you rode to and from the outpost, leaves you with a sense of unease.

Her big, glassy eyes fill you with some comfort the more time you spend with her; those gentle head butts into your own, when it all gets a bit much, reassures you she feels your pain and shares it with you. You’ve since discovered her name is Ashen.

You watch, curiously, as a trellis of flowers is lifted by several men and settled into place. A graceful arch, fashioned from salvaged and repurposed wood, and built and sanded down by Joel himself as a project over the last few weeks - a gift for your wedding day. It's now decorated in vines and dried wild flowers, preserved in their seasonal beauty and uniqueness.

You remember rubbing salve into his splintered hands in the evenings, massaging around his stubby thumbs and calloused palms as he winced and groaned at the rawness fading away before those hands would grip onto your skin and leave you gasping with fading imprints. He really is so good with his hands…

“Here,” Sal’s voice rouses you from your heated reverie and the view outside.

Turning, her hair is pinned neatly and she looks younger somehow. More at ease, more feminine than you’ve ever seen her. Flaming red hair matches her lips and her eyes sparkle.

You smile, taking the delicate lace that she holds out for you, and you step into it, allowing her to button you up.

“Are you nervous?” She asks you as her nimble fingers work. Your eyes are still transfixed out the window as rows of unmatching chairs are lined up by working bodies.

Seems like the whole commune is involved in contributing to the preparations.

You shake your head. “No. Feels right.” You say, agreeing with the stringent relief that prevents any butterflies from flapping their sickly wings. “Feels like it should have already happened, years ago.” You confess, smiling as you smooth down the lace around your cuffs.

“Joel’s a lucky man.”

You shake your head. “No, I’m the lucky one.” Luck, despite everything, seemed to have had your back all along. Although the paths it led you down to find it, you’re not so sure about.

“Let me get a look at you.” Sal says as she steps back. You turn to face her and she sighs in awe.

“Christy has outdone herself. This dress is stunning.” Sal murmurs, her eyes glistening.

“She really has.” You say, admiring the mid-length, hand-made, gown that sits snugly against your body. Made from scraps of lace, Christy, the resident seamstress, has managed to make a dress that’s perfectly suited for the occasion. Simple, elegant, but meaningful.

“Look,” Sal says, adjusting the mirror and you catch sight of yourself.

The lace is delicate and stitched with love and envious talent, and weaves across the front of your collarbone and down your arms. There’s a slight dip in the back as it hangs a little lower down your spine before cascading into a waterfall of buttons, some mismatching, some with sparkly gems in the centre, but it’s forgiven and actually adds to the charm.

The dress is simply more than you ever thought possible, more than you probably deserve. More than you ever thought you’d have in this lifetime.

“You’re beautiful.” Sal says, dabbing at her eyes.

“Stop. You’re going to make me cry.”

She laughs, a little choke being swallowed down. “I just wish Kelper was here to see you like this.”

“Sal-” You begin with a choking lump in your throat.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be sorry.” You shake your head. “I wish he could too.”

You spend a moment regarding one another; her eyes wandering into the painful territory of yours as you both recall the eviscerating loss.

Both thriving in it for a few moments, sharing in the grief that has lingered in the marrow of your bones for the past five months or so. Paused, sometimes, in that moment when Tommy relayed over the walkie-talkie the devastation that Kelper had perished in the fight against the infected horde.

It still seems like yesterday and centuries ago. And you were mad, hopping mad with him for a while after your return to the commune; mad that he could be so foolish, so selfish, as to leave you all without him.

But with time, taking each day, each sunrise and sunset, one foot in front of the other, the anger dissipated into raw grief. And it walks alongside you now, linking arms with all the other’s you've lost in your life.

Another name on a chalkboard above a fireplace, another ribbon tied to a tree. Another splinter in your heart.

While the anticipation of marrying Joel fills you with inexplicable joy and pertinent relief, the absence of Kelper, casts a malignant shadow, a blot on the sun.

The glint of excitement in your eyes is tempered by a soft sadness that hovers like a wailing banshee that’s attached itself to your side permanently it feels; it won't stop screaming in your ear. A tribute to the friend, partner, even soulmate, who had been your anchor in tumultuous times of endurance and survival.

Yet, as you stand ready to embark on this new chapter with Joel in a world that still seems so uncertain at times, still so… frightening, despite being safe behind reinforced walls, you find some strength in the enduring gravity of love.

Kelper's memory, a guiding presence now in some ways when he talks to you when you most need it, whispers words of encouragement, reminding you that even in loss, love persists in this broken world and it’s worth finding and clinging onto.

It’s the reason you’re still alive.

And it's something you hold on to, even if your fingers ache from gripping it too tightly.

Even when the grief consumes and you sob unabashed and uncontrollably into Joel’s broad shoulders in the middle of the night.

And he holds you through it, anchoring you and steering you back to yourself as you work through it; a golden compass bringing you home when you lose your way in the dark.

Sal picks up the make-up brush and hands it to you with a gentle smile as you dab at your eyes, and you chuckle.

“I love you,” she says gently, nodding.

You pull her towards you and cradle her tightly.

“I love you, more.” You say, clinging on and wondering if you’ll ever find the strength to let her go again.

“Well, I’ll be fuckin’ damned.” Tommy says, taking off his Stetson as he ambles into the room.

“Don’t ya say it.” Joel warns with a frown.

“Ya don’t know what I was goin’ to say.” Tommy smiles with an adept grin.

“Yeah. I do.” Joel says, turning, his hands fiddling with the tie.

Joel regards his younger brother narrowly as he steps into the room and bounds up to him. “Was gonna say ya look handsome, is all.”

“Yeah, right.” Joel scoffs. ”Help me with this thing, will ya? It’s all fuckin’ knotted up to hell.” Joel gruffs with a heavy sigh, tempting to forgo the tie entirely, lest he strangle himself with it first.

“Ya comb your hair?” Tommy asks, and Joel ducks as he goes to swipe at it.

“Leave off.” He says, checking it’s still in place.

For once, his unruly curls have been slicked down and back neatly, silver streaking through them that appears metallic in the wet gel, and seems more prominent these days.

As Joel dons the smartest plaid shirt he owns, and his standard pair of jeans that have seen better days, a mixture of emotions play across his weathered features despite his hardest at trying to mask them. It’s getting harder these days to keep it up.

The nervous excitement of marrying you, the love of his life, is palpable, but it dances alongside a more subdued undercurrent of opaque reflection.

“Ya nervous?” Tommy asks, as he straightens up Joel’s tie. He sees how his face is pulled tight in that ever present frown.

Joel nods, then shrugs. “Were you? When you n’ Maria tied the knot?”

“Was shittin’ myself.” Tommy admits with a bashful smile.

“Why?”

Tommy shrugs. “It’s forever, man.”

“But, that’s the point, ain’t it?” Joel queries after a moment’s pause.

“Yeah… I dunno. Maybe.”

“Ya regret it?” Joel asks, peering at his younger brother who still seems to be ageing at a much slower rate than Joel; it makes him grind down on his back molars.

Tommy immediately shakes his head, slick oiled curls tousling as he does so.

“No. S’not what I meant. I love Maria n’ I wanted to marry her. Just feels… different now, y’know? Like, to how it would‘ve been back then. Means somethin’ more than just vows now, I think. Somethin’... profound.”

“Profound, huh?” Joel snorts. He never thought he'd hear Tommy say something like that. Didn’t even know he knew the meaning of the word.

“Yeah, like serendipity or some shit. Wasn't lookin’ for it, n’ there she was. She makes me a better man, Joel.” Tommy says quietly.

He glances briefly at his brother’s eyes, the same dark eyes they share from their mother, and then back to the tie. “Ya lady do that for you?”

“Mm. She does.” Joel agrees, his fingers buzzing slightly at the thought.

“Shit, what did ya do with this thing?” Tommy chuckles, as he fights with the knot.

“I dunno. First time I’ve ever had to wear one.” Joel grits.

“Ya tellin’ me.” Tommy snorts.

Joel remains quiet, thoughtfully contemplating. Thinking about back before the outbreak, and what it would’ve been like if he’d married you whilst you were both still young and fresh faced. When he might've known how to tie a fuckin’ tie by himself.

And of course, he had intended to, even brought a ring; spent ages picking it out, but he never got to give it to you.

You’d left.

He briefly wonders what happened to that ring, where it is now on the planet.

A season of what ifs and unanswered scenarios plague his thoughts with spiked edges. Would you have even said yes back then? Would you have lasted, or would a quick divorce have followed?

He knows it’s fruitless to try and unpick it all whilst Tommy battles with the knot that now feels tighter against his throat, but Joel’s always been a brooding thinker, much to his detriment at times.

But he can't help but think about the journey that’s brought him to this day - the years of separation from you, the trials faced, the things he’s done in the darkest chapters of his life. The loved ones he’s lost along the way.

Sarah’s face flashes in his mind, her soft eyes and gentle smile beaming at him, and he bows his head, sighing.

“Y’alright?” Tommy asks.

“Yeah,” Joel mutters.

He takes in a slow, deep breath, steadying himself against the swirl of emotions he can already feel lingering in the dark corners, brewing, flexing their claws ready to tear deep gashes in his skin. They never really leave.

Tommy finishes manipulating the tie and he taps Joel’s shoulder affectionately when it’s done.

Joel turns to the small, chipped shaving mirror to get a better look at it, and hums in a mirthed satisfaction. “It’ll do.” He supposes.

“M’happy for you, Joel.” Tommy says, and Joel glances up at him through the mirror. “Ya deserve it, some peace. A good woman to come home to who’ll rub ya feet.”

“She hates feet.” Joel states rather po-faced.

Tommy smiles, breaking into an airy chuckle and so does Joel. The chortles between them sounding so foreign despite their intensity as they mutate into wheezed laughter.

And then Joel does something he feels like he hasn’t done for a long time, and should probably do more often.

He pulls his younger brother Tommy into a tight, binding hug.

“I love ya, man.” Tommy says.

“You too.” Joel mutters.

“C’mon, let’s get ya married.” Tommy states, clapping his back like thunder.

Tables adorned with scavenged tablecloths showcase a humble feast of canned goods, preserved fruits, and perhaps a few hunted game offerings in the Tipsy Bison.

The survivors of the commune, dressed in their best makeshift attire, share muted stories, laughter, and the precious company of one another, forming a close-knit family that has thrown up two fingers in the face of adversity as they pack out the chairs just outside the bar, some standing at the back of the makeshift aisle as the whole commune comes to bear witness.

The nip in the air has them huddling in coats and scarfs, but the atmosphere is incredibly warm and inviting.

Guthrie stands at the head of the trellis, bible in hand and in his smartest pressed shirt ready to officiate in a world where laws are just spoken words now instead of legal documents.

But it doesn’t matter, because in matters of the heart, it's more than binding.

Tommy and Joel wait in front of him. Maria sits with her baby bouncing on her knee, cooing quietly. Max looks on from the opposite side of the trellis, wearing an excited grin that makes his jaw ache.

Hands clasped in front, Joel’s fingers twitch as he clears his throat nervously.

“Not long now, brother.” Tommy says, clapping him on the back again, and Joel swallows thickly through the heavy wind of it.

As Joel stands at the makeshift altar beneath the trellis arch he’d spent days carving intricately, adorned with the dried flowers collected by good natured souls, the weight of the moment presses upon him.

The air, usually filled with the festive sounds of the commune, now feels dense and stifling around him. The tie feels tight once more at his throat as he swallows with a now dry, grazed windpipe.

The trepidation that’s lingered in the corners of his mind crystallises into an overwhelming wave of anxiety. And he hears that little voice creep up again from behind his shoulders.

She’s not coming, Joel. She doesn’t love you. She could never love you.

His heart races, the sound echoing in his ears like a distant drumbeat. The gentle flutter of muted conversations around him and the soft whispers of the cool, crisp breeze seems to amplify, creating a disorienting cacophony that pierces his eardrums.

Joel's breaths become shallow, each inhale a struggle against an invisible force tightening around his chest. Each breath in seems to scrape against his throat, the air refusing to fill his lungs with ease like it once did.

Joel's hands, usually steady and weathered by years of survival, betray him as they tremble uncontrollably. Eyes fixed on the path where you’ll soon walk towards him, Joel feels the world closing in, seeming to warp and contort, and the edges of his vision blur like a watercolour painting in the rain.

The trellis arch, once a symbol of hope and new beginnings containing his blood, sweat and tears, now seems to loom overhead, threatening to crush him; its shadow dancing with an unsettling rhythm.

The vibrant colours of the flowers mutate into a disorienting palette, dying and crisping before his eyes, and the string lights flicker like lightning, their glow suddenly too harsh, too bright.

Dizzy, he sways as he clutches at his chest, and feels Tommy pressing up against him, like a weighted tackle.

“Joel! Joel!”

His voice is distant, sounding further and further away as Joel spirals, the ground coming up fast; his knees cracking against it.

She could never love you, Joel! Not after everything you’ve done!

Rampant beads of sweat form on Joel's forehead, his hands clammy as they tightly grip on the edges of Tommy’s jacket as he wheezes.

The weight of the moment, the culmination of years of separation and the scars etched into your shared history, bare down on him.

The fear of losing this newfound happiness seizes him in a vice grip until it chokes the life out of him and it all goes black.

Told you Joel.

Told you that you were going to die alone...

He wakes to the sound of continual beeping in his ears.

Beep-beep-beep-beep...

Heavy headed and with a really dry mouth, he sits up to feel a hand pressing gently against his bare sternum.

Following the path of it, the arm adorned in faded lace, he finds your face, pressed tight in its worry and concern.

He did it, he let you down. Completely and irrevocably, just like he knew he would.

“Slowly,” you ease, as he sits himself upright against a pillow that feels like it's barely there.

“Don’t fuss, m’alright.” Joel sighs, glancing down at his chest, shirt open and no sign of his damned tie. “S’all this?” He tweaks at the wires curiously stuck to his chest.

“They thought you might have had a heart attack.” You say, gravely.

“What?” His eyes widen and snap to yours.

“It was a panic attack, Joel.” You say, softly. “You’re okay.”

He frowns, his eyes shying away from yours. He feels your fingers knotting into his hand, thumb stroking reassuringly over the thick gristle of his knuckles.

“I ruined our day,” he mutters through clenched teeth.

“No. You didn’t." You shake your head. "Hey, look at me.” You sway.

“I can’t. M’not supposed to see ya yet.”

“Joel. Look at me.” You press, delicately.

Slowly, he finds the courage to face you, head on, and he can’t believe what he sees. You, staring at him with the same adoration you’ve had etched into your features since the very beginning.

From that moment your eyes met when you were flighty, little things, when the world was kinder and had less teeth.

The same way you looked at him when you bumped into him outside The Tipsy Bison all those months ago, stunting him and making him believe that a bland, beige thing such as a miracle could really exist.

You, looking at him with those same adoring eyes when he made love to you again, after all those years that had passed between you. Decades of swampy regret and missing pieces that no-one else could really fit into or fill; connected with you again on some other level that could only transcend his mere understanding.

And he knows he's undeserving. That even though he shouldn’t listen to it, that insidious little voice is right. He doesn't deserve you looking at him like this.

But he never wants you to stop.

“Ya look… so beautiful, darlin’,” he chokes out.

You smile and pat his stacked chest. “You scrub up pretty well yourself, Mr Miller.”

You lean forward and place a kiss on his temple, just below the spikey, flower-shaped scar.

Joel closes his eyes, savouring the feel of you, your breath settling into his pores. Inhaling the smell of fragrant soap on your skin; the scent of the lavender perfume that’s made in the commune and dessciates the pillows in your bed.

“Ya got all prettied up for me.” He says looking up at you, fingers brushing against the side of your cheek with a dusting of powder to accentuate your skin tone, and a light sheen of highlighter that makes you glow. “Ya glowin’.” He confirms, awestruck.

His lips find yours, tasting the balm on them. Your fingers scratch in the waves behind his ears; his once slicked back hair now ruffled and fluffy again behind his ears.

“Everyone knows? They saw, I-”

You smile, softly. “It’s okay, it’s nothing to be ashamed of, Joel. They were all worried, because they care about you.”

He frowns again and squeezes your hand. “M’sorry. Don’t want ya to worry.”

“Too late. You’re stuck with my worry.” You smile.

“S’not too late, ya know.” He says, tentatively with a small voice.

“Too late for what?”

He sighs heavily. He turns towards the machine that’s beeping annoyingly in his ear and jabs at a button, but it doesn’t silence it.

“If you even think about saying what I think you’re going to say, you’ll be spending months in here, Joel. Multiple broken bones.” You warn and he shakes his head, unable to contain the small smirk that threatens to tear up the corners of his mouth.

“M’not gonna say it.”

“Good.”

“But, it’s not too late.” He reminds you anyway with a gruff peep.

“Is that what you want?” You question, your heart is already trying to make a run for it out of any orifice that will allow its escape.

“God, no.” He looks at you sincerely, eyes deep and reassuring in their richness. "I always want you."

“Then stop being a dork.”

He snorts, rolling his eyes. “Dork…”

You squeeze his hand and he places his other on top of them both.

“What’d we do now?” He queries and you can still see the weight he carries behind his eyes.

“I have an idea. Can you walk?”

Joel nods as he pulls off the sticky patches from his chest, and the infernal beeping finally stops.

Ashen comes to a halt at your gentle command, and Joel helps you off after dismounting the tan stallion that he rode with you up to the outpost those few months ago.

Since then, settling into a gentle sway of life in the commune had been a constant that you never knew you needed, or missed so much, as you began building a new life with Joel by your side.

But there was a mild fidget in you that couldn’t be settled; a part of you that always remained on alert, and Joel sensed it in you because that same sense lingered in him too.

Life experience had taught you both not to rest so easily, to leave a limb out of the tub and not fully submerge; to leave a backpack stocked with supplies by the door in case you had to go quickly in the night.

Old habits die hard.

But shared with Joel made them easier to accept, to shoulder the weight equally instead of alone. It could be left placed and fuzzy, in the peripherals to fade out for a while, but it was always there.

You both walk a few paces up a short incline, your dress is covered by a coat and scarf, and Joel’s shirt has been rebuttoned with a sweater and a coat of his own thrown over the top.

You feel the heavy weight of the handgun in your pocket, knocking against your thigh. Joel’s own is holstered to his waist under his coat.

The wind is a little harsher in its nip up here, but the view is worth it.

Looking down into the valley, the Wyoming mountains spread out in the distance with their snowy caps like shark's jaws on the landscape; the commune seems like a tiny dot in the centre of the horizon.

“It’s beautiful, no?” You say wistfully, as the wind pulls tendrils from your styled hair that stick to your lips.

“Not as beautiful as you,” Joel says, his arms wrapping around you. You feel him plant a kiss on the side of your cheek and it warms you, from your toes up.

“Look,” you say to him, and you pull him gently with you towards the shelter of a large tree, its branches, almost shed full of its leaves, swaying rhythmically in the breeze.

Under the canopy of the majority of its stripped branches, your fingers place Joel’s onto the rough ridges of the bark, trailing them towards some carvings.

“What's this?” He asks as he studies the letters.

“You made the trellis for me, for us in our garden. Well, this is my wedding gift to you.” You say with a warm smile.

Joel runs his fingers over the letters, a familiar S as he reads the name Sarah carved into the wood. Underneath, another name is carved. Kelper.

“This is what ya did with my “missin'” tools, hmm?” He queries with a cocked brow.

You grin coyly. “If I told you my evil plan, you'd have put the kibosh on it.”

“S’like ya know me so well,” Joel nods. “Ya came out here by yourself?” He frowns.

“I’m a big girl, Joel.” You remind him and he reluctantly nods after gritting his teeth.

He glances up to see ribbons fluttering in the breeze, and reaches up to feel their silkiness between his fingers.

“Ya did this, for me?”

You nod. “This is the highest tree in the valley. I’ve been all over this valley the past few months trying to find the perfect one. I was safe… Sal was with me.” You assure him when you see his nostrils flare.

You turn to look at the names on the tree. “They’re both looking down on us, Joel. From all the way up here. Sarah and Kelper.”

“Darlin’,” he says, as your eyes mist over.

He reaches for your hand and pulls you in close. He looks at the names on the tree, smiling into your hair as he imagines Sarah indeed looking down on him and smiling proudly.

At least, he hopes he’ll be able to make her proud going forward - the past, he’s doubtful about that.

“Ya amaze me every day.” Joel says.

“I just wanted a place that was ours, to remember them. They should both be here today. And this way... it’s like they are.”

Joel nods. “Marry me, here.”

“Right here, now?”

He nods as he strokes your arms. “Yeah… feels perfect. With them.”

You smile at him, wondering how you made it. Wondering how life, despite it's cruelty, had given you this perfect morsel of happiness.

“Have you got the rings?” You ask him.

He fishes into his jeans pocket and opens his palm to reveal two gold bands. Both a little misshapen from years of wear.

“I wonder who they belonged to,” you say, smiling at the metal hoops looking so dainty and small in his gargantuan palm.

“Two people that were very much in love, I reckon.”

“Yeah. They were. Utterly mad for each other.” You agree.

“Probably drivin' each other mad too,” he smirks.

“You like it when I keep you on your toes.” You remind him starkly and with a brewing grin.

“Mm-hm.” He murmurs. “Like a hole in the head.”

You reach into his palm and take the bigger ring and take his opposite hand in yours.

You glance at the tree for a moment, smiling, remembering. Then you look up at Joel. Look at the man who carried you on through this world, even if he wasn’t physically there for most of it.

“Joel,” you begin, letting the words flow freely. “I never thought in my wildest dreams we’d be here. I never thought that all those years of fighting, surviving… enduring. I never thought that they’d lead me back to you. Fate sure is a funny thing, isn’t it?”

“I sure as hell ain’t laughin’.” He says and you smirk.

You place the ring on his thick finger, sliding it all the way down. “I love you.” You say looking at him. “I’ve always loved you. I will always love you, until I die. And even then, I’ll still love you, Joel.”

Blushing, he smiles. Then he takes your hand, the remaining ring poised at the tip of your finger.

“Darlin’... I don’t think there’s anythin’ I could say that would make it feel truly real. Still feels like a dream sometimes. But then I wake up, and ya there beside me. And I don’t know how that happened, not really. It’s somethin’ I just can’t even wrap my head around, y’know?” His voice carries a blend of warmth and sincerity.

“I know.” You smile.

“Two lucky son’s o’ bitches. But you’re real, you’re here. I found ya. God willing, I fuckin’ found ya again. And I promise to cherish ya, darlin’, in all ya strength n’ vulnerability. Your stubbornness-”

You giggle and he smiles, tucking a wisp of wayward hair behind your ear.

“You're my home in this unpredictable world… I love ya, darlin’. Not just for who ya are, but for who we've become together." He gulps, holding back a choke as you watch his eyes glisten.

"Ya make... ya make me a better man. The kind of man I wanna be for ya. M'bound to ya. Ya have me bound to you, forever.”

“Joel,” you say as your own eyes water, and he bends to kiss you, taking your lips in his as the wind whips around you both, and pulls you tight into his warmth. Pulls you deeper into his heart.

I knew he was a good man, Goose.

You glance over Joel’s shoulder to see Kelper standing there leaning against the tree grinning at you.

You smile, nodding gently at your old friend before closing your eyes, tears falling from them like tiny diamonds scattered over Joel's shoulder, and clinging on tighter to him.

Joel inhales the scent of your hair, holding you hard in his arms as the breeze billows around you both and he swears he's never been more elated, more satiated in his bones and flesh.

If he were to die now, he would die happy, and it's a thought that now comforts him, whereas for so long, it's been one that terrified him.

He lets himself bask, lets himself wander further into this pastel dream and stay there, ruminating for a few more moments in the calm bliss of your arms.

Dad.

He’s roused, eyes snapping open as he hears the familiar voice; a voice he had thought he had forgotten, and then a face he was convinced had slipped his mind also is there, smiling at him.

Familiar eyes, that scent of coconut shampoo filling his nose, and frizzy hair that he could never tame in the way she liked when she was smaller, billows in the wind.

Sarah, his daughter, is smiling at him, clear as day, a few feet in front, and he feels it lurch in his chest.

So do you, as you feel his body stiffen under your embrace, and he steps forward, confused to be met with nothing again.

“Did you…?” Joel murmurs out, his voice lost on a confused gasp.

You turn to see what he’s looking at so intently, but there’s nothing there except the whisper of the wind.

“You alright?” You ask, pulling away from him to look at his face, eyes staring a little way down the hill and filling with water that he frantically blinks away.

“Yeah.” Joel turns to you, stunned and speechless for a few moments. The familiar, expected stab in his heart rearing its ugly head fails to ice him over.

Instead, he feels awash with a sincere warmth, from where it emanates, he’s not entirely sure.

“Y’know what? For the first time in a hell of a long time, I really think I am.” He says.

You smile at him as you nuzzle into his neck.

“Jesus…” he mutters as he wraps his arms back around you. “Thought I saw I fuckin’ ghost for a minute there.”

You smile, knowing that he saw what he needed to. The same as you do when you need it.

He rubs at your back. “S’getting a little cold, we should head back soon.”

“Can we stay up here, just a little while longer?” You ask gently, as you both watch the winter sun setting slowly behind the mountains.

“We can do whatever ya want, darlin’.” Joel murmurs, smiling into your shoulder.

By the time you and Joel made it back, the celebrations had moved into the Tipsy Bison as the expected snow started to billow from the sky.

Candles flicker on the tables, creating an intimate atmosphere that contrasts with the harsh wilderness beyond the commune's borders. Handcrafted Christmas decorations and salvaged ornaments add a touch of festivity to the surroundings, creating a unique blend of the old and the new world.

As the night unfolds, Joel and you move through the crowd, your smiles radiant with the joy of your unity as everyone wants a piece of you both.

The celebrations carry on with a mixture of traditional and improvised festivities - a dance floor, a communal song led by Max and a beaten guitar, with a surprisingly melodic voice which awes you at his secret talent. Guthrie dances with you, twirling you around as you smile and clap.

The large Christmas tree in the corner twinkles with gold, glittery lights that reflect in your eyes as Joel looks into them as he sways gently with you.

Impromptu speeches that celebrate love, survival, and the strength of the human bond follow with laughter, and Tommy leads a toast to the both of you with minimal embarrassment for Joel, much to his relief.

But despite the laughter, the warmth, you catch Joel’s face a little later, and the familiar need for a moment of respite creeps over his features as the frown tugs further at his smile somewhat as the night moves on.

His smile hides years of pain underneath it, convincing you he's fine when you ask him. Some days, he believes it himself.

But he doesn't want to spoil this for you, drag you away, but he also wants to have you to himself; be selfish and attenuate that need that flourishes hot in his veins.

He searches you out as you’re engaging with Sal, Max and Guthrie, and catches your eye, quelling everything loud around him.

In the middle of the chaos, there’s you.

You know him too well, even after three decades of separation, you can still read him without words, and you decide too, that you’ve had enough of smiles and wine.

You both slip out, leaving your expanded family and friends to celebrate as late as they want without you both.

In the secluded corners of your home, away from the festivities, you and Joel allow the weight of your tumultuous journey to fall free from your shoulders and leave it outside.

The echoes of the after-party seem distant, drowned out by the heavy thrumming of your heart in your ears.

Once inside the warmth of your shared home, the safety and privacy of the walls Joel had built once upon a time with his bare hands, those hands of his take to your waist and pull you towards him as he attaches himself to your lips.

He dips and slants, moaning softly against your mouth; pulling your head closer to his with a giant, swamping hand, slipping his other around you and drawing you closer against his taught body that always has a slight tremble to it.

Behind him, the lock on the door clicks shut as you reach for it. Your heart rate speeds up as you melt into him, skin melding together like melted candle wax.

You and Joel are very alone and very close, pushed up tight against one another; bodies reacting and heating up. His broad chest crushes into your own as you feel the increase in his heartbeat against your own rib cage.

You run your hand down his chest towards his groin, searching out that thick hardness you can already feel pressing against you.

Then, you feel him lifting you; arms swooping under you and pulling your feet off the floor.

“Joel!” You squeal as he heaves and steps forward.

"It’s tradition.” He says, stepping forward quickly towards the bedroom.

"Your back!" You wail, giggling.

You cling on around his neck, and he clumsily falls with you onto the bed laughing.

Your hands find his face as he lays on top of you, staring intently into his deep brown eyes.

“What?” He questions as you trace his lips with your fingers, watching as he kisses the tips of them.

“You’re so fucking strong. Do I ever tell you that?” You say with awe.

“Sometimes… not nearly enough.” He chuckles.

“Lay back, old man.” You say, winking at him.

“Oi, less of the old.” He says as you shuffle out from underneath him.

“It’s hot.” You say.

He watches you crawl over him. “Ya wanna be in charge do ya, darlin’?”

“Mm, is your back gonna let you lead?”

He scoffs, and then nods in defeat, retreating hastily backwards on the bed as you straddle him.

“Didn’t think so…” You smile, as you kiss him.

He slips his tongue inside your mouth, the remnants of a few whiskeys in celebration lace his gums.

His hands slide down your waist to cup your ass, squeezing it; pressing you against his crotch as you kiss him deeply, leaning over him. He breaks off, burying his face in the soft column of your throat that feels clammy already with anticipation.

He licks the salt of it, scraping his teeth against the soft perfumed flesh there, licking and nipping, sucking it between his lips hungrily.

"Ya too good to me, darlin’."

You keep your eyes on his face, noticing the way the tip of his tongue teases the middle of his upper lip as he looks hungrily at you. How his Adam's apple bobs with each thick swallow in anticipation.

How those deep, trusting eyes lance at you as you unbutton his shirt.

Joel watches as you trail wet, lingering kisses over his skin; skin mottled with freckles and silvery hairs, a liver spot here or there.

How you kiss and lick each scar delicately that he bears; the one on his hip from where he was shot at on outbreak day. The one where he was gutted trying to save Ellie from raiders.

He shivers as you explore every weak spot he’s ever had, birthing new life into the dead skin.

Watches keenly as you run your tongue around his nipples, sucking over them gently as he hisses in response. Shudders as you kiss down the centre towards his navel, swollen with age around his tummy that you lavish more affection and desire all over, running your cheeks against it.

Joel hitches his breath as you unbuckle his belt and free him from his jeans.

He’ll never get tired of watching you do that, of taking his throbbing, thick cock so slowly and hungrily into your mouth; hearing you whine in satisfaction as you taste him again.

Feeling how it tingles down to the root of him as he slides down your throat and packs you out until you can’t breathe.

He’s moaning like a dying man as you suck him with eyes that meet his with unspoken praise and worship.

He reaches down, weaving through your hair, letting it fall free of the pins that held it precariously in place all day. Combs through it as you lick up the length of him and suckle on the head of his cock, feeling it throughout your own body, the heat travelling in the streams of your arteries.

“Take this off,” he says tugging at the hem of your dress, and you’re soon naked on top of him, bodies growing warm and slick together as you kiss deeply and grind subtly against one another.

“Too long since I was inside ya.” He laments into your ear in a hot whisper.

“It’s only been a couple of days, Joel.” You smirk.

“Too fuckin’ long.” He corrupts.

He runs his thumb over your stiff nipple and cups your breast gently inside his warm palm. "Ya so beautiful, darlin'." He breathes.

He reaches down between your legs and slides his finger against your clit, watching as you jolt with the gentlest of brushes.

“So sensitive, aren’t ya?” He cajoles.

“Mmm,” you nod, hands on his chest as he slips in; finger stroking inside your wet folds.

He pulls out and slips another one in, marvelling at how you arch and mewl above him as he pumps slowly.

You wind you hips, pushing against his fingers as he fucks you keenly with them. Pressing deep against the right spots and stroking you closer with each curl of them.

“Look at you, so fuckin’ beautful.” He groans. "All for me, all mine."

“Joel, I’m gonna come,” you moan, fingers gripping into his chest meat as you feel yourself bunching tight already.

Grabbing his cock, he guides his engorged head between your puffy, wet pussy lips in place of his fingers.

“If ya gonna come, ya come on my cock, darlin’.” He pushes in gently, thick head notching into you slowly, letting you suck him in. Sliding slowly and purposefully so you can feel all of him.

Savouring, appreciating, falling further with you.

“Joel!” You gasp, the pinch of him still present as he enters; a sensation that’ll never falter.

He reaches up, mouth grazing over your breast, nipple between his teeth and gently sucks as you slide down the full length of him, taking him in deep, where he belongs.

Joel belongs inside of you.

He pulls you up, large hands crossed around your lower back as he lifts you up and down on his cock, sliding almost the full way out, leaving just the head precariously lipped inside you, until he brings you back down onto the full hilt of him, bottoming out each time he does it.

He grunts with you; warm breaths pelted into your skin like ink blots where they spread, staining you with him.

He begins slow, measured thrusts up into you; you push back, grinding with him, the tightness of your hole now slickly wonderful around his thick cock. He draws out a few inches at a time before pushing in deep, to the sound of plentiful, needy whines from you.

“Fuck, ya feel so good around me, darlin’,” he groans into your chest.

Laying back, giant hands caressing your breasts, he lets you work, lets you take control. Watches keenly, as you ride him deeply, with a heated fever as the sweat starts to slick down your back.

His hips push up to meet you when he senses you’re losing it, losing your control as your gasps pitch higher, becoming more frantic in their raspiness as your cunt tightens around him.

“Joel!” You gasp like you’re sobbing; the cadence stripped from your throat as he grunts in agreement with you at how good it feels, how good it feels to have you on the end of his cock soaking him with all the pleasure that he feeds you.

And it’s something he’ll never tire of. He’ll never want to stop giving you this, giving you all of him.

“There ya go, darlin’...” He ushers. "Ya close, ain't ya?"

“Mmm, yeah…” You can feel it, that glitter starter to gather under your eyelids, the bones in your spine pulling tight and ready to crack open the moment that hot bolt travels down it and into your core.

He winds you tighter around that spool, the slack almost unbearable. Your toes curl inwards, your thighs shake and your whole body tenses up.

"Come for me!" Joel growls, encouragingly.

Over and over he fucks into you, his fingers digging into your hips where they’ll leave bruises that he’ll kiss later.

Your voice is shaking as you stutter incoherently, a babbling mantra of his name. “Joel, Joel, Joel…”

“Ya keep sayin’ my name. This cock s'makin’ ya feel really good, hmm?” He grunts into your face.

“So good, Joel… Oh my God, don’t stop!”

“Are ya gonna come for me? Ya gonna come all over my cock, darlin’?”

“Yeah… I’m coming. I’m coming, Joel! Fuck!”

A warm, desperate shudder pours out of you at his command; your entire body convulses, fingers gnarl around his skin. You cry out, your lungs disintegrate into mottled dust as it leaves you; punching that glitter out of your back once more into the air for you to breathe in and choke on the metallic fragments.

“That’s it. Give it to me… All over me. Like that. Don't stop comin’."

His lips chase yours, brushing sweetly against them with a peck and smooch to remind you he’s still there; your tether, no matter how high you fly above him.

You clutch onto his shoulders, nails digging into the tanned skin as he pushes you back down on his cock, filling you up again. The constant symphony of his pants fill your ears, that subtle weakness in them; that tremor at the back of his throat as he draws closer to his finish.

“That, right there… fuck,” he grunts.

“That feel good?” You groan as your hips swivel intently.

“Yeah… s’way ya look at me like this.” He moans.

“How do I look at you, Joel?” You breathe.

“Like ya love me.” His voice cracks at the sound of it in the air. The realisation, the acceptance, The finality of his being.

“I do love you. I love you so fucking much.” You gasp.

“I love ya too, darlin’. Fuck, do I love you! Shit!” He strains, his muscles pulling tight, the tension in his jaw locking.

“Come for me, fill your wife up, Joel.” You urge.

"Fuck!"

He yanks you towards him, face tumbling into him as he catches you in a kiss as he whines against your lips as he comes deep inside you. Soft whines flow from his plush mouth into yours as he twitches and empties.

His thrusts gently still to an eventual stop, feeling the warmth of his spend flooding around his cock inside you.

He kisses you intently and for what feels like a lifetime, just connected to him; breathing him in down into your respiratory system where he'll always stay.

You stroke away the sweaty, grey curls from the sides of his face and temples, and he smiles at you; a smile he saves only for you, with glittery eyes.

You glance at the clock on the bedside table reading just after midnight, and smile excitedly at him.

“You know what day it is today, right?” You query with a grin, resting your chin on your hands as you lay across his chest, still connected with him inside you.

“Right now, I don’t even know my damned name.” Joel breathes with a heavy chortle.

You feel him slip out as he laughs, the wet warmth of him dripping out of you. “Jesus, ya kill me.”

“It’s Christmas Day.” You whisper to him, and he runs his thumb against your lower lip, watching as you kiss it gently.

“Well then, Merry Christmas, Mrs Miller.” He smirks, crushing you further into his chest.

You beam back at him, finally understanding your place in the world.

Finally understanding why you endured and survived as you take his hand in yours, the glint of your mutual wedding rings reflecting in the dim glow from the string lights outside the window.

You know it was to get to this exact moment, right here, where you're in Joel’s arms again, and nothing can get you anymore. Nothing.

Smiling, you lean up to your husband’s face and kiss him gently on the lips.

“Merry Christmas, Joel.”

The End

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whatsnewalycat · 26 days

Text

Passenger / Chapter 6

Pairing: Trucker!Din Djarin AU x OFC Charlie Wanderlust

Wyoming (Part Three)

[ Previous Chapter ][ Series Masterlist ]

Chapter Summary: Charlie strikes a deal with the mechanic.

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Word Count: 7.3k+

Content / Warnings: yearning, slow burn, horny thoughts, food mention, eating, handcuffs, one bed, shower, dog grogu, guns

Notes: None really. Hope you like it, thank you for reading!

A bell chimes when Din pushes open the door to Giddyup Auto, and again when he lets it swing shut behind you.

It’s just as cluttered inside the shop as it is outside. Pornographic magazines have been stacked alongside NAPA catalogs and tattered notepads on top of tool boxes. Promotional branding from popular auto parts manufacturers patch the steel walls, occasionally broken up by snarky signs that read things like KWITCHERBITCHIN AVE and I CAN FIX ANYTHING EXCEPT STUPID.

Country music crackles from blown speakers at the back of the shop, echoing off the tall ceiling. The rough, strained sound blends horribly with a high-pitched whir coming from beneath a 1989 Dodge Ram 250.

Din inhales the scent of motor oil and metal shavings. Adolescent nostalgia wells up in his chest like pride, some vague understanding of what it means to be a man. The responsibility of maintenance. Caretaking and custodianship.

He catches a glimpse of his adoptive father wringing his hands with an oil-soaked rag while rattling off the basic components of an internal combustion engine. Then he blinks it away.

Out of the corner of his eye, you adjust your grip on the wriggling dog, slipping one hand beneath his bottom and the other across his chest. Grogu huffs at the intrusion, but once he’s steadied to a higher vantage point, he seems pleased. His ears stand at attention, jowls sealed shut, the tip of his snout twitching with curiosity.

Both you and the dog look around the garage with the same kind of wide-eyed wonder. Two explorers ready to investigate this whole new world. Din leads the way deeper into the automotive bay, following the shrill grinding sound to the old rusted-out truck.

When he comes to a halt, so does the noise, then Paul slides out from under the truck on a creeper.

“Hey there! Sorry, I didn’t hear y’all come in,” he gestures to the impact wrench in his hand as he sets it down.

“Hi, Paul,” you greet him with a cheerful smile.

Rising to his feet, he beams, “Miss Charlie, how’re you today?”

The twinkle in his bright eyes makes Din feel uneasy. Strands of gray streak his dark beard and pepper his slicked-back hair. Hard-earned wrinkles crease his face. He’s twice your age at least, and Din can’t quite determine whether his intentions are cordial or flirtatious.

Either way, you hardly seem to mind. You perk up at the attention, taking a step towards him as you reply, “Can’t complain. Yourself?”

“Oh, just fine. Annie get y’all set up at the motel?”

“She sure did. It was nice to sleep in a bed for once, y’know, after being on the road for so long. Thank you for recommending it to us.”

“‘Course. Yellow Seed’s been treatin’ you alright?”

“Yeah! We got to poke around a little yesterday. Went and got supper at the Outlaw Saloon, which was good,” you glance at Din and chuckle a little, “The locals didn’t seem too keen on us. Got a few dirty looks, but that’s not surprising.”

Paul laughs at this, crossing his arms as he leans back against the truck, “Well, you know, we small town folks don’t always like outsiders.”

“I’m used to it,” you shrug dismissively, then your face lights up, “But, hey, I talked to the owner and they’re gonna let me play a couple sets tomorrow night if you wanna swing by.”

“No shit?” Paul grins and catches himself, “Pardon my language—”

“It’s fine,” you wave it off.

“Playin’ a few sets at the Outlaw Saloon,” Paul repeats, shaking his head with amusement, “What kinda music you play?”

“I know a little bit of everything. These kinds of gigs, I try to feel out the crowd. I catch a country music kinda vibe around here, so probably some Hank Williams Jr, Alan Jackson, Johnny Cash. Stuff like that,” you tilt your head at him, “Got any requests?”

“Know any Waylon Jennings?”

“Sure, I have a few of his tunes up my sleeve. Any particular song?”

“Surprise me,” he winks.

Din tries to retain his stoic demeanor despite the discomfort writhing beneath his skin. The dog must pick up on this, because he whines at his owner and starts to squirm in your grip.

Struggling with Grogu’s protest, you ask Paul, “Is it ok if I set him down?”

“Go on ahead, darlin’,” Paul tells you, then turns to Din, “How about you? Settling in ok?”

“How much will it cost to fix?”

Paul raises his eyebrows and pushes off the truck, “Right down to brass tacks, huh?”

“He’s not much of a talker,” you smirk as you set the dog on the cement floor and start roaming around the shop, leash in hand.

“I can respect that.” His gaze lingers on your wandering form for a moment longer before he looks at Din and sighs, “Well, I had some luck calling around to a few junkyards lookin’ for salvaged or used parts. Found a good price for what I need. With that ‘n’ labor, it’ll run you twenty-five hundred, long as everything goes smoothly.”

Din weighs the cost against his bank account, factoring in the motel room, gas to get to the next job, and food for a few days. It would run him dry. His stomach tightens and twists. Before he can formulate a response, you chime in.

“Is there any way we can knock that price down?”

Paul crosses his arms across his chest and gives you a sympathetic shrug, “Way it stands, ‘fraid I can’t.”

You nod as you consider this, furrowing your brow at the floor, then look up at him, “What if we make a trade?”

“A trade?” Paul frowns.

“Yeah, or, you know. Some kind of a deal. We scratch your back, you scratch ours.”

Paul’s blue eyes flick between you and Din, “Wha’d you have in mind, sweetheart?”

Din’s first instinct is to shut down the conversation. But when you glance at him as if searching for approval, he doesn’t protest. You turn back to Paul and nod over your shoulder, “I noticed your sign out front is pretty faded. I could paint it if you knock a couple hundred off?”

Paul shifts his weight to one leg and wrinkles his nose. Not sold. You don’t let it deter you.

“I’ve done murals before, so this would be a piece of cake. It looks pretty shabby now, but I can make it,” you smack your lips, “pop. Maybe it’d bring in some more business for you.”

Shaking his head, he smirks at Din, “She’s persistent, ain’t she?”

“She is.”

“I am,” you confirm with a wide, toothy grin, “Whaddaya say? I do the sign, take off $500?“

Paul works his jaw from side to side, then slackens and sticks out his hand, “Five hundred.”

“Plus the cost of supplies,” you add.

“Plus the—” he cuts himself off with an amused chuckle, “You’re somethin’ else. Fine. Five hundred plus costs.”

When you shake his hand, a victorious, blinding smile spreads across your face. The corner of Din’s mouth turns up at the sight. He fails to correct his expression as you take a step back and glance at him. His heart skips in that brief moment where his eyes meet yours, before you drop your gaze to your feet and tuck a lock of hair behind your ear. Blush rises to your cheeks and neck, rosy splotches that bloom soft and full in his chest.

“Whaddaya think, should $100 do it?” Paul asks.

“I think we can make that work,” you nod, “Do you have paint brushes or rollers? Sandpaper?”

“Reckon I do. Hang tight, I’ll get y’all some cash, ok?”

Once he’s out of earshot, Din studies you, wondering out loud, “Why are you helping me?”

“Rule number ten: Be a stand up tramp,” you shrug, crouching down to scratch Grogu between his ears, “Plus, I don’t know, it just seems like… the right thing to do.”

Your answer perplexes him. He can’t come up with a response other than, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you grin up at him, then rise to your feet and change the subject, “I’m hungry. We should get lunch. And maybe get some groceries, too, so we—er, you don’t have to spend as much on eating out.”

The authority with which you suggest this causes him to chafe. He wants to push back for no reason other than to reclaim the upper hand. Your reasoning is sound, though. It’s not a bad idea.

“We can do that.”

“Yeah?”

He nods.

Your gaze lingers on him for a moment, lips curving into a delicate smile. Something flutters in his stomach, frantic and timid, urging him to put up a wall between you. But he keeps his eyes anchored to yours despite his internal warning bells.

The tight wire of tension slackens as Paul returns, counting a stack of wrinkled bills, “Here you go.”

You step forward to accept the cash, “Perfect. Thank you, Paul.”

“Are y’all gonna be able to carry everything back here, or do you wanna borrow my truck? Might be a little easier that way.”

“Really?” you grin and knit your brows together into a gracious expression, “We were thinking of grabbing lunch and getting some groceries, too. Would that be ok?”

“Fine by me, just bring it back in one piece,” Paul answers, fishing a set of keys from his jumpsuit pocket and handing them to you, “Ford F-150 out front.”

“Thank you, Paul. I—we really appreciate it,” you tell him, then look at Din and raise your eyebrows expectantly.

“Yes, thank you,” Din nods in agreement.

“Don’t mention it,” Paul says, then ambles back to the old rusted-out Dodge, whistling along to some old country song.

Keeping pace at his side as he starts towards the exit, you jangle the keys and ask, “Do you want me to drive?”

“Dream on, kid,” he scoffs, holding his hand out.

“Worth a shot,” you grin and place them in his palm.

“Would it be too predictable to put a horse on the sign?” you ask, frowning at your rough outline, “I feel like there are a lot of places out here that lean into the western motif, so it might be overdone. But the place is literally called Giddyup Auto, so…”

When Din doesn’t respond, you glance up and can’t quite tell if he’s looking at you or something in your general direction.

Stupid goddamn aviators.

“You know, it’s considered polite to take off your hat and sunglasses when you go indoors.”

Again, nothing.

‘Off in lala-land’ if you’ve ever seen it.

You blink at him a few times to no reaction, then raise your voice, “Did you hear me?”

This seems to do the trick.

It’s difficult to explain how you know his eyes are on you when they are. Maybe the microscopic tilt of his head or the twitch of his eyebrows. Mostly though, you would say that his attention carries a force. One minute you’re sitting there wondering if he’s looking at you and then—bam! It hits you. Absolute certainty.

Anyway, he looks at you and asks, “What?”

“Why do you insist on wearing your Unabomber costume all the time?”

He frowns and shakes his head like he doesn’t understand.

“You know, because—Oh for cripes’ sake, nevermind,” you scoff and sit up in your seat, turning your notebook to face him, “Here. Tell me what you think.”

He looks down at your notebook and pulls it closer. As he quietly studies the sketches, discomfort twists your skin raw. Imagining all the criticisms lingering at the tip of his tongue, you can’t stop yourself from speaking preemptively.

“The first one is pretty boring, but I think the font adds a little flair. I’d blend shades of orange for the background to make it stand out and white for the text.” You prop your chin up on the heel of your palm and lean forward, pointing to the second option, “I like the covered wagon as a concept, but it would take me a long time and I’m not sure if it fits the vibe since wagons are kinda slow. The horse is fast, obviously,” you tap the third sketch and shrug, “But, like I said when you so rudely ignored me, the western motif is sort of tired in this neck of the woods.”

Nodding, he comments, “They look… nice.”

Such a way with words.

You stare at him for a moment, waiting for additional input to no avail. Raising your eyebrows, you release a big sigh and fold your legs up into the booth, “‘Nice.’ Ok, sure. Well, let me ask you this: Which one is your favorite?”

After a few seconds of contemplation, he taps the bucking bronco silhouetted over a mountain range, then pushes the notebook back across the table.

“Why that one?”

He shrugs, “It’s called Giddyup Auto.”

Instead of pointing out that you said the same thing earlier, you mutter, “Sure is, big guy,” and flip your notebook to a blank page, then start jotting down a shopping list, “We should get something for the pup while we’re out. I feel bad for leaving him behind.”

You wrinkle your nose at his silence, looking up to confirm that once again, he has drifted away.

Curiosity gets the best of you. You follow his line of sight, craning your neck over your shoulder to see the waitress approaching with a serving tray. Din straightens when she sets a plate in front of him.

“Ok, we have a breakfast platter number two,” she sets another plate in front of you, “And french toast with fruit.” Tucking the tray under her arm, she smiles between you and him, “Anything else I can get for you guys?”

“We’re fine, thank you,” Din tells her, a small smile gracing his lips.

She nods before turning to go, dragging his attention along with her. You watch him watch her, studying his wandering gaze. A grin spreads across your face. When he notices you staring, he immediately becomes defensive.

“What?”

Dead giveaway.

Suppressing a smile, you grab a butter knife and shake your head at your plate, “Nothing.”

“What?” he asks again, this time more pointed.

“I didn’t say anything!”

He scoffs and hunches over the plate to shovel scrambled eggs into his mouth.

After smearing whipped butter on your french toast, you pour syrup over your plate, glancing up at him when you ask, “Do you have a crush on the waitress?”

“No.”

Denial sours the word in the most obvious way.

Raising an eyebrow, you cut your food into bite-sized pieces as you tease, “I didn’t take you for a liar, Din. But I also didn’t take you for the kind of guy who has a soft spot for pretty service workers, so what do I know?”

Of course, he doesn’t say anything. And of course, you decide to push the conversation further.

“I just mean… If you do—you know, like her or whatever—you should ask her for her number. Take her on a date. See if you can’t live a little while you’re holed up in this town.”

“And what am I supposed to do with you in that scenario?”

Twirling a chunk of french toast around on your fork, you shrug, “Maybe she wouldn’t mind your prisoner third wheeling. That’s probably not a red flag, right?”

“Not at all.”

You snort at him and he lets a small smirk tug at the corner of his mouth. It seems to soften the atmosphere, both of you relaxing back in your seats. While chipping away at your food, you ponder a little to yourself, then out loud.

“Suppose your line of work, you don’t go on many dates, do you?”

Frowning at the strip of bacon pinched between his fingers, he tells you, “Not in the traditional sense.”

“What does that mean?”

Instead of answering the question, he pops the bacon into his mouth. When he swallows and you’re still staring at him, he shakes his head, “Forget I said anything.”

“Come on, Din,” you meet his flattened expression with a grin, “You so know I won’t let this go. Might as well just spill the beans.”

He crosses his arms in front of his chest and stares at you like a challenge. You narrow your eyes at him, tilting your head with equal determination.

“‘Not in the traditional sense.’ So you do have romantic or sexual experiences, but society wouldn’t typically deem those experiences ‘dates,’ right?”

He says nothing.

“Hmmm… interesting,” you lean your elbows on the table, studying him, “You seem reluctant to talk about it, which indicates… Maybe you’re ashamed of it? Although, you’re pretty reluctant to talk about everything, so I don’t know how much weight to place on that. But you’re a trucker. Transient. Don’t seem like much of a ‘family man’ to me. So, what… you’ve gotta be a hookup guy or a sex worker guy, right?”

The way he squirms at the question makes your chest tingle.

“It could be both, too. I feel like you would be more of an opportunist than a strategist when it comes to fucking. Am I right?”

His jaw shifts from side-to-side. He glances around before leaning in, “And you’re much different?”

“No, not really.”

Most people would ask follow-up questions or awkwardly segue into a different subject, but not Din. He seems as content with your answer as you are with his. But where he goes back to eating, you feel a loose end rattling at the tip of your tongue and speak it into existence.

“I think… I think people like us don’t lay down roots for anything less than the spectacular,” you search his face, “Right?”

With his fork lifted halfway to his mouth, he pauses to look at you and nod, “This is the way.”

Din brings the shopping cart to halt in the middle of the aisle when you stop to examine jars of preserved nut and fruit spreads lining the shelves.

You pull a big plastic container of generic peanut butter from the lineup and toss it into the cart, “Four dollars, twenty-nine cents.”

He jots down the price in your notebook and adds it to the running total while you wrinkle your nose at the ingredient list of strawberry preserves, then set it next to the peanut butter, “Three sixty-nine. Gotta love that food desert markup. What’re we at?”

“Twenty seven, give or take,” he answers, crossing two items off the list.

“What else we got here?” Sidling up to him, you peek at the paper, “Snacks. Wow, ok past me, very specific.”

When you start walking again, he does too, and he wonders how you can possibly smell so good without the aid of perfumes. While not a definitive scent, it inspires a sensation much like when he’s parched and sets his sights on a glass of ice water. It’s enticing, like your very foundation radiates temptation.

He cannot have this. This thing in his chest, gnawing at his bones, trying to escape. It snaps at the walls when you’re nearby, which is always.

Maybe if he could relieve some of the pressure buckling under his skin it would quiet. But he can’t, so it doesn’t.

It begs and pleads and promises to absolve him of consequence as long as he promises to move a little bit closer, hold his hand to your back a little bit longer—just one more second and I’ll be content. Maybe another. What if you slid your hand around her waist and pulled her body to yours? How would she react? I bet she would like it. I bet if you kissed her she would finally be speechless. Just a taste, please?

He comes to a stop beside you and follows your gaze to the wall of chips. Hundreds of bags in all different sizes and colors, all of them glossy in the fluorescent light.

“Well, big guy. What’s your chip of choice?” you ask without looking at him.

Grinding his teeth together, he shakes his head.

“Yeah, I don’t know, either. Too many of the same goddamn choices,” you step forward to narrow your eyes at a price tag, “Am I crazy or does that say five dollars?”

“It says five dollars.”

“What the fuck, that is obscene. Do we really need chips?”

“Does anyone?”

“I guess not technically,” you sigh and start wandering further down the aisle, so he follows you. “But we don’t have to be so utilitarian about it. Junk food is for the soul, not sustenance. And sometimes the soul needs something salty and crunchy, you know?”

Nodding, he comes to a stop and points to the display of microwave popcorn, “We could get this instead.”

“Six bags for four dollars,” you raise your eyebrows, “Salty, crunchy, and cost efficient. Hell yeah, I’m sold.”

He grabs the box of generic popcorn in question and walks it back to the cart while you meander towards the sweets. When he meets you in front of the cookies, you glance at him, “Original or chewy?”

“Original.”

“Ten four, good buddy.” You grab the blue package of chocolate chip cookies and toss it in the basket, “Do you ever get to say that on your radio? Have a real trucker moment?”

“Yes.”

“Adorable,” you chuckle, catching his gaze for a moment before you look down and tuck your hair behind your ear, “Are you gonna help me with the sign today, or do you have other plans?”

“What do you need help with?”

You exhale through slack lips, then shrug, “Well, today is just prep. I have to scrape off the old paint, sand it down, and prime. It has to dry overnight, but I think I’ll be able to finish the rest tomorrow or the next day if we get up early…” Pausing to chuckle, you shake your head, “Sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself. What I mean is, you could help me with scraping and sanding. It’s a real bitch and would be easier with your muscle. If—well, you know, only if you want to. You don’t have to or anything…”

“I can do that.”

Your eyebrows draw together as you search his face, “Yeah?”

He nods, “It’s the least I can do.”

As the two of you near the checkout line, a frail woman with closely-cropped white curls shuffles from a back office to the one and only cash register.

“How are we doing this? Splitting it?” you swing the backpack off your shoulder and start rummaging through it, “I should have some money in my wallet. It’s not much, but it should—”

He holds up a hand, “I’ve got it.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

That thing in his chest whimpers when you smile at him, big and bright and gap-toothed, sparing him a polite, “Thank you,” before you start unloading the groceries onto the conveyor belt.

Balancing the tips of your toes on the highest ladder rung, you stretch your roller towards the unprimed stripe of sign, but can’t quite reach it.

“Goddamnit,” you mutter, returning all fours to the ladder with a huff, then look back at Din, “Hey, can I borrow your tall?”

Your question bounces off him with no reaction.

Between the visor of his cap and the tablet glued to his face, you can’t quite tell if he’s ignoring you or if he just plain old can’t hear you. All that’s visible is his furrowed brow. So you shimmy down the ladder and set the paint roller in the tray, brushing your hands on your jeans as you approach his lawn chair, waiting for him to notice you.

When the brisk October air nips at your dirt-caked, sweat-soaked skin, you skip closer, tapping your foot against his calf, “Hey.”

He jumps as if broken out of a trance, then raises his eyebrows at you, “What?”

“Can you help me with something?”

His mouth flattens into a straight line. He looks down at the tablet, then turns off the screen and sets it aside to look up at you.

“See the top of the sign, how it’s all shitty still?” you point at the evidence, “Can you get it for me? I can’t reach.”

“Use the big ladder.”

“I didn’t think to grab it before Paul locked up for the night.”

He releases a big dramatic sigh, glancing down at the tablet before rising to his feet. As he passes you the handle of the dog leash, you grin and plop down in the warmed-up lawn chair, “My hero!”

“Uh-huh,” he shakes his head and starts towards the drop cloth.

Beneath the lawn chair, the dog wakes from his nap and tries to follow Din, huffing and puffing when the leash goes taut, then walks back to your feet and sits on your shoelaces. His big satellite ears stand at attention while his person shimmies up the ladder with a roller brush in hand.

The two of you sit there and watch Din with the same level of ardent attention, both perched on the edge of your respective seats, unable to tear your eyes away for a second.

At first you try to tell yourself that you’re not even looking at him, just mapping out the illustration you’ll start tomorrow. But the truth is, it’s hard not to be drawn in by the view. By his panoramic shoulders and muscle-bound arms stretching out the fabric of his flannel as he rolls the brush up and down, back and forth, spreading thick white primer across the freshly smoothed wood…

Despite the waning sunlight and icy gusts spilling off the mountains, heat bubbles up to the surface of your skin.

You know that once he’s finished, you’ll go back to the motel for the rest of the night. Given the thick layer of grime you each accumulated throughout the day, showers will likely be in order. Which, of course, means stripping down to nothing while he’s in the bathroom with you. And vice versa, probably.

Your imagination wanders to his naked body and how it would feel against yours. What if you argued in favor of water conservation, asking him to join you in the shower? What if he agreed? How would he look at you without those sunglasses covering his eyes? How would he touch you if morals weren’t involved?

Din climbs down off the ladder and walks over, taking off his cap to wipe the sweat from his forehead, “Is that it for today?”

He replaces the hat and takes off his aviators, cleaning the lenses with his shirt as he meets your gaze. The full force of his big brown eyes turns your saliva tacky and makes your heart stutter. He raises his eyebrows at you expectantly.

Fuck, did he ask you something?

“Is that—? Oh, um,” you clear your throat, then nod, “Yep, that should do it. Thank you, I appreciate it.”

Flicking his eyes around your face, he nods, then turns back to the drop cloth, where he starts consolidating all the painting supplies.

With his legs stretched out across the perimeter of the bathroom’s tile flooring, back resting against the tub, Din types ‘Tom Boucheron’ into the search bar of a Portland-based web forum.

The search yields 83 matches. He starts sifting through the results, scrolling past subject lines that indicate general complaints about property management like rising rent and evictions and gentrification. Every once and a while he comes across subject lines that take on a more conspiratorial tone, though, mentioning the weight of his influence or his ties to police presence throughout the city. When he finds these posts, he clicks on the thread, copying and pasting the urls into a separate document.

He can delve deeper into these later, once he’s able to better focus. But right now, with the roaring cascade of the shower behind him and your enthusiastic rendition of Tiny Dancer by Elton John, this mechanical sorting is the maximum concentration he can muster.

Squinting at the screen, he wipes away the fog forming on his tablet. Moisture reclaims the area just as soon as it clears. He sighs and turns off the device when your vocals start ramping up to a volume he can’t ignore.

“—But oh how it feels so real, lying here with no one near. Only you, and you can hear meeee, when I say softlyyyy, slooowly—”

“Are you almost done?”

“You ruined the best part.”

“We’re going to get a noise complaint.”

You scoff, then he hears the thunk of you turning off the water. In his peripheries, your arm stretches out from behind the shower curtain to snatch the folded white towel off the toilet lid.

A few seconds later, the curtain pulls back and you announce, “I’m decent.”

He climbs to his feet while you step out of the tub, one hand securing the bath towel around your body, the other grabbing his arm for balance. Once sure-footed on the pink tiles, you let go and murmur, "Sorry,” before opening the door and padding off into the motel room.

Grogu runs into the bathroom to investigate as Din slips out and takes a seat at the foot of the bed. He tries to anchor his vision to the floor, but finds his gaze drifting towards your movements out the corner of his eye. Humming to yourself, you comb your fingers through dripping wet hair and pull a few articles of clothing from your backpack.

“Are you gonna hop in too?”

His eyes tick to yours as you turn around, clutching a pile of clothing to your chest.

“Because, you know… if you need me to be in there with you or whatever, that’s fine,” you cast your gaze to the floor with a shrug.

He studies your bashful demeanor for a moment before responding, “I’ll have you sit in there with me once you get dressed.”

Without looking up, you give him a nod and walk over to the bathroom. As you put on clothing, Din uses all his will power to stare at the ground.

“What do you wanna do after that? We could watch a movie.”

His eyes cheat to the mirror on the wall, where he watches your reflection wrestle with a t-shirt. He catches a glimpse of your bare back before returning to the floor and clearing his throat.

“I thought you weren’t much of a movie person.”

“Well,” your footsteps soften onto the carpet, then your voice is closer, “If you have a better idea of how to pass the time in a seedy roadside motel, I’m open to suggestions.”

He meets your heated gaze long enough for something to spark deep within his belly. The air between your body and his thickens with a palpable magnetism. His lips part to respond, but only one suggestion plays over and over again in his head. The mad yapping of that thing in his chest.

Before he can say or do something stupid, though, you look away and start fidgeting, “So, I’m dressed. Are you ready?”

Swallowing his tight throat, he pushes himself to his feet and locks eyes with you, “Go sit where I just was and put your head between your knees.”

“Wow, you’re taking this very seriously.”

“Let’s just get it over with, ok?”

You roll your eyes a little, but acquiesce.

Din trails behind you into the bathroom, shooing the dog from the room before closing the door. When he turns around, he finds you curled up on the floor, back pressed to the tub basin with your face buried in your knees.

“Like this?”

“Perfect. Stay like that, I won’t take long.”

For some reason he expected you would stay quiet while he disrobed, but you just continue talking as if you were accompanying him on any other menial task.

“I think it’s funny how you have me do this whole thing so I don’t see your dick, but when I need privacy, the most you give me is a turned back.”

Din glances at the top of your head while unbuckling his utility belt, then turns to spread it out across the bathroom counter, “That’s not the only reason I’m having you do this.”

“Then why?”

“Are you familiar with the concept of involuntary captivity?”

While you scoff and most likely try to come up with a rebuttal, he shucks off his flannel overshirt, then unfastens his shoulder holster and lines it up on the counter below the outspread belt. His hands work without much thought as he systematically unloads all three of his pistols. Eject the magazine, count the rounds, check the chamber.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Ignoring the question, he moves the unloaded guns and utility belt to a high shelf over the toilet, then pulls off his undershirt.

“Can you at least confirm you’re not gearing up to murder me right now?”

If he wanted to tear your frayed edges, he could mention that you were begging him to do exactly that less than 48 hours ago. But since you’re somehow more irritating when in a foul mood, he doesn’t.

“If I was going to kill you I would have already.” He turns on the shower and takes a step back to make sure you’re still covering your eyes, then takes off his pants.

“Would you do it if you had to?”

The question gives him pause as he pulls back the shower curtain.

“Why would I have to?”

“I don’t know, because they asked you to do it.”

He frowns, “I wouldn’t do it just because someone asked me to.”

“You wouldn’t?”

The hopeful air in your voice eats at his stomach lining. Instead of answering or clarifying what he meant, he steps into the shower.

“Ok, but let’s say they gave you a good reason, and you were going to do it… kill me, I mean. How would you do it?”

“I’m not going to tell you that.”

“Why not?”

He shakes his head and grabs a bar of soap off the shower ledge and starts to lather it against his skin.

“Are you ignoring me or thinking?”

“Ignoring you.”

“You know, I appreciate the honesty.“ Then, after a few seconds: “I promise not to leak your trade secrets, big guy. Come on, how would you do it?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

With this, you go quiet.

Silence fills the bathroom for the remainder of his time in the shower, but Din’s thoughts are as loud and intrusive as your questions.

His mind becomes populated with scenarios in which you would end up in the sights of his pistol. Under what circumstances would he pull the trigger?

He imagines you stealing from him. He imagines trying to escape. He imagines it coming down to you or the money. He even goes so far as to imagine it coming down to you or him.

But each time the imaginary him goes to take aim, he falters.

While Din tosses a bag of popcorn in the microwave, you survey the Room 10’s VHS collection.

“Ok let’s see,” you tilt your head sideways and read the titles, “Aladdin, Batman Returns, Twister—”

“You choose.”

Beeps sound from the microwave, then it hums to life.

You pull Aladdin from the shelf and admire the familiar cover art. Little flakes of deteriorated plastic break off the exterior and stick to your fingertips when you trace the title. You wince and mumble an apology to the inanimate object before prying it open to pull out the tape.

After feeding it to the VCR, you press rewind and hold up the cover to Din, “Ever seen this?”

When he takes a step closer to examine it, you note the details you’re not normally privy to. His damp curls and the heat of his pulse. Mostly, though, you become fixated on his eyes. Those devastatingly dark and warm eyes. His heavy brow and hooded lids, all the lines of age creeping out from the corners.

He meets your gaze and you swear you hear the snap of his full attention locking onto you when he frowns, “Can’t say I have.”

Somewhere far away, the popcorn starts popping. You feel yourself succumbing to his gravitational pull, subconsciously drifting towards him, and can’t really remember if you had a point in mind when you asked.

“It’s-it’s good,” you nod, letting your eyes drift to his mouth for a moment before you shrug, “I mean, from what I remember at least. I was obsessed with it when I was a kid. It drove my grandma crazy cuz I’d make her watch it on repeat…”

It doesn’t really register how much information you’re disclosing until his eyes get all wide and doughy, at which point you take a step away from him and tuck your hair behind your ear, “Sorry, um, anyway. I liked it.”

He chuckles, causing you to grin, “What?”

“Nothing.”

His face tells you it’s definitely not nothing. It’s something if you’ve ever seen it. Something so gooey and hot it makes you ache. Dangerous, that’s what it is.

The VCR clicks and shifts gears, then the TV lights up with disclaimers. Taking it as a sign from above, you start back towards the bed and tease, “I totally get why you wear the sunglasses, by the way. Your eyes give everything away.”

Rather than admit you’re right, Din raises an eyebrow at you, then turns around to pull the microwave open before the timer reaches zero. While you slide under the covers and prop the flimsy pillows up behind your back, he pries open the steaming hot bag of popcorn and brings it to you.

“Thanks.”

He grunts in response and disappears into the bathroom for a few seconds, returning with the shiny metal handcuffs, “Lights on or off?”

“Off.”

When the lights go out, the dog jumps onto the bed, spinning around a few times before curling up into an adorable white ball. Din tosses the cuffs to your side as he crawls into bed beside you. Once you think he’s settled in, you offer him some popcorn, which he accepts.

“Do I have to put them on right now?” you ask, in reference to the cuffs.

He frowns and shakes his head, “I can wait until you’re ready.”

Nodding, you study his profile in the dim illumination from the TV. You don’t even realize you’re staring at him like a full-on creep until he says, “Stop giving me goo-goo eyes and watch the movie.”

Embarrassment flares up your neck and cheeks. You scoff, “I am not giving you goo-goo eyes,” and wriggle deeper under the covers, diverting your gaze to the TV.

I will not look at him for the rest of the night, you vow. Even if he asks me to, or talks to me, I won’t look at his stupid face until the sun comes up tomorrow.

You almost fulfill the vow, too.

Well… almost might be an exaggeration, but you make it to the end credits and that’s further than you really believed you could make it.

With the motel room all dark save for the faintest glow from the credits rolling onscreen, he asks, “Are you awake?”

You remind yourself of your promise and try to ignore him. If you say something, you’ll look at him. And if you look at him, you lose.

“Charlie?” he nudges you.

Fuck.

“Yeah,” you glance over, and of course you catch his eyes, “Is it handcuff time now?”

He nods, almost apologetically.

“Can I use the bathroom first?”

“Go ahead.”

When you exit the bathroom and turn off the light, you find the room cloaked in darkness. The only reference point you have is the red glow of 9:12 on the alarm clock. You stretch your arms in front of you and start taking cautious steps towards it.

“Oh my god, I can’t see shit.”

“Want me to turn the lamp on?”

“No, I’ve got it.”

Your fingertips brush up against the bedspread, then you follow the alarm clock beacon to the side table.

“Here.”

His hand finds yours in the darkness. You grab ahold of it, trying your very hardest not to dwell on the warmth of his palm against yours as he gently guides you. When you finally settle between the sheets, he releases your hand. You almost wish he didn’t.

“Ready?”

“Sure.”

He closes the cold heavy steel around your wrist, then his. For a while, neither of you move. Anxious energy buzzes beneath your skin. You close your eyes in an attempt to trick yourself into being tired, but it only makes you notice how fucking quiet it is.

Resigning from your motionless state, you start wriggling around in an attempt to get comfortable. Din is accommodating while you do this, letting his wrist ragdoll wherever you drag it. You lie facing the wall for a while, fondling the knife you have tucked under the pillow. It doesn’t feel right. You flip onto your back and stare at the ceiling. Same problem.

Then, when you can’t stand it anymore—the dark, the quiet, the nerves—you roll on your side facing him.

“Din.”

“What?”

“I can’t fall asleep.”

He doesn’t say anything.

“Din.”

“What?”

“I said I can’t fall asleep.”

“I heard you the first time. What do you expect me to do about it?”

You open your mouth to ask him to fuck you, but nerves rob your tongue.

“Just talk to me for a while.”

“About what?”

“I dunno, whatever you want.” You tuck your cuffed hand beneath your cheek and scoot a little closer.

His silence holds the weight of contemplation, so you prompt him, “What would your genie wishes be?”

“Hang on, let me think.”

A few quiet seconds go by before he clears his throat and rolls on his side to face you. The back of his cuffed hand rests against yours, which brings you a shred of comfort.

“Financial security. Property rights to some land and a house, something out in the country.”

“Like a farm?”

“Something like that. Self-sustainable and off the grid. Maybe get a few animals and so I could live off the land.”

“That’s the dream, right? Fuck off to the middle of nowhere and not have to rely on anyone?”

“Yeah, that’s the dream.”

You hum, then ask, “What’s wish number three?”

“I… I’d rather not say.”

Your gut instinct is to push back, but you resist the urge and instead tell him, “That’s fine.”

“Thank you.”

There’s enough sincerity in his voice that a tinge of guilt twists in your belly, and you feel obligated to bring up an earlier conversation.

“I’m sorry, by the way. For pushing you to answer me when you were in the shower. Sometimes I don’t know when it’s time to shut the fuck up and let it be.”

“Don’t worry about it, kid.”

“Ok,” you wiggle around a bit and manage to find the perfect position, then close your eyes and release a content sigh.

“What are yours?” he asks.

“Mmmm… you know, I’ve thought a lot about this question—” A yawn swells in your chest, cutting you off. When it passes, your limbs feel heavy and warm. You continue, “I’d wish for the genie to be free.”

He lets out a disbelieving chuckle, “And what else, world peace? An end to climate change?”

“I hear your snark, sir, and I don’t appreciate it. No, I wouldn’t wish for world peace or the end of climate change. I wouldn’t wish for anything. Tricky bastard can keep his wishes, I make my own luck.”

“Tricky bastard, huh?”

Another yawn takes over. Lethargy seeps through your body, making your worlds come out slow and murmured.

“Yeah, y’know… all the, umm… the fine print. Too many strings attached, I don’t trust ‘em.”

“You sound tired.”

You hum, snuggling deeper into your pillow, “You sound tired.”

“Get some sleep, kid. You’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

“Mmmkay,” you mumble, “Sweet dreams, Din.”

#din djarin x you #din djarin x ofc #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin #din djarin fic #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fic #the mandalorian fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal characters #passenger

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honeybeefae · 1 year

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Finding Home (Lucien Vanserra x Reader)

Summary// Lucien had always felt like he was a wandering soul, never having a true place to call home. It was hard to deal with, to see others belonging and happy while he tried to find something to cling to that gave him the same feeling. It wasn’t until Starfall, when you gifted him something truly special, that he finally found out where he belonged.

(Poor little Lucien needs all the love in the world and I thought he was perfect for this prompt. I hope you enjoy!:))

Prompt: Character A gifts Character B something heartfelt.

WARNINGS: None

Lucien sat with everyone at Rita’s as they passed drinks around, conversation flowing easily between them. Well, all except him. He was at the very edge of the table, fiddling with his glass of amber liquid while looking towards the door every few seconds.

He didn’t even understand why he went to these things. Feyre always invited him but he constantly felt like he was intruding on them. No one really talked to him besides maybe once or twice, too engrossed with their friends and mates to notice that he was still there.

And while he liked to think of himself above the need to have friends, deep down he was lonely. Tamlin was lost, his brothers were monsters, Feyre was busy with her own life, and he didn’t connect with any of the others besides acquaintances.

It was the same day in and day out, leaving him wondering if he truly belonged nowhere, until you joined their group. You were a friend of Nesta’s that ran a local bookshop in Velaris, your cheerful demeanor making it easy for you to fall in with the rest of them. He had expected to simply exchange pleasantries with him and move on but for whatever reason, you latched onto him.

“Hey guys, sorry I’m late! Took forever to close up shop.” You apologized as you walked in the door, breaking him from his thoughts as several people greeted you warmly. “Have I missed anything?”

“Not much, Cassian and Rhys are seeing who can outdrink each other while Nesta is already showing both of them up. I think Azriel and Elain are out dancing?” Feyre shrugged, handing you a spare drink. “Other than that it’s been a pretty tame night.”

“For once.” You wink at her, looking over and finding Lucien sitting by himself. He perks up when you drag a chair over beside him, clinking your glasses together with a smile.

“And how is my favorite fox doing?” You chirped, taking a sip and enjoying the warm burn the alcohol gave you.

Lucien rolled his eye, his body immediately relaxing in your presence. “Better now that I’ve got someone interesting to talk to.” He replied, noting the way your cheeks slightly pinkened.

“It’s not my fault you refuse to play nice with any of the others. Perhaps if you stopped brooding away in a corner, people might actually approach you.” You teased with a wink, looking around the bar casually. “Hells, you’d be surprised at the people you can pick up from this place.”

“Oh, you know something about that, do you? And here I thought you were a spinster content with books and cats.”

You stuck your tongue at his jest, hitting his arm playfully. “I know more than you think I do, thank you very much.”

There was a tension that was now swirling between the two of you, the conversation taking on a much more suggestive tone that was about to cross a line of no return. He stared at you, trying to not let his imagination run wild right in front of you before you awkwardly cleared your throat and looked away.

“So, are you looking forward to Starfall?” You changed the subject quickly, taking another sip.

“Uh, I guess?” Lucien responded hesitantly, rubbing the back of his neck and looking out the window at the night sky. “Not so much for the party.”

“Oh, that’s the best part! The music, the food, the atmosphere, it’s enchanting. I haven’t met anyone that didn’t enjoy it.”

“It’s just not for me. I don’t fit in with the rest of them that enjoy it.”

Your mouth twisted into a frown at his words, a look of pity in your eyes. He saw it and scoffed, looking at you sternly and saying, “Don’t give me that look, Y/N. I don’t need your pity.”

“It wasn’t pity, Lucien, I just hate that you feel that way. You know it’s not true.” You said earnestly, placing your hand over his in a moment of tenderness. “I think you just need-”

“I don’t need anything, Y/N. I’m perfectly happy as I am.” He snapped, looking away when you flinched at his tone. “Sure, after Jurian and Vassa became a thing and I got kicked out, I was once again by myself, but apparently that’s just how the Mother wants me to be. I can deal with that, I don’t need sympathy.”

His words were harsh and he didn’t mean half of them, he just had a hard time whenever someone felt sorry for him like he was some sort of lost child. It hurt his pride and it reminded him that despite his protests, that’s exactly what he was. No home to return to, no family to miss him, and some nights he would just yearn for someone out there to care about him.

It made him feel pathetic, to want something like that.

You weren’t entirely buying his macho act. Anyone that had been through what he had been through would feel at least some pain from it. And although you hadn’t known Lucien as long as the rest of your friends, you knew he struggled with it.

However, you didn’t want to push him anymore tonight, raising your hands in surrender before finishing the rest of your drink. He watched you carefully, feeling guilt gnaw at him from the way he had attacked you for simply being concerned.

“I’m sorry.” You apologized, standing up to go join the rest of your friends who were now dancing. “I didn’t mean to overstep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He wanted to hit himself over the head when you walked away, feeling like the world's biggest asshole. This was the reason he didn’t have anybody in his life, this was the reason people didn’t stay with him long. It wasn’t the cauldron cursing him, it was his own damn self.

The music was loud as he gathered his things and left the club, looking back just long enough to catch you chatting up a man at the bar before forcing himself to leave to go back to his apartment. He was already dreading tomorrow.

Starfall, House of Wind

It was crowded and loud, full of people he didn’t know as he lounged against a balcony rail. The sky was already dark as well as the rest of the city, everyone gathered around as they impatiently waited for the souls to rain across the sky.

You hadn’t shown up yet, not that he should be looking for you after what he said to you. Feyre and Rhys had given him a cordial welcome, as well as Cassian, but other than that he was by himself. As the minutes ticked by he started to contemplate just going home and watching it from his window.

That was until he felt a warm hand slide down his arm, making him turn in surprise. You were leaning beside him, one of your arms tucked behind your back and a coy smile on your lips.

“Being a wallflower again, Lucien?” You teased, goosebumps rising on your arms from the chilly air. “It took me a while to find you.”

“Y/N, I didn’t think you would show up.” He breathed, standing up to fully face you. “I wanted to apologize for last night, what I said was harsh and-”

“Hush, I don’t want to hear you grovel to me. You’ll ruin Starfall.” You said sternly, moving your arm from behind your back to reveal what you were hiding. It was a small yellow box, with a ribbon tied delicately on top. It fit in the palm of your hand and Lucien was very confused.

“Who is that for?” He questioned, glancing around to see if anyone else was exchanging gifts. “Is it someone’s birthday?”

You huffed in frustration, grabbing his hand and prying it open before laying the box in it. “It’s for you. Honestly, how you are an emissary is beyond me.” The jab made him smirk, his fingers holding the box as if it were made of glass.

“You got me a gift?”

“It’s a Starfall gift. Some people give gifts to their loved ones, some don’t, it’s a personal preference.” You shrug, anxiously looking between him and the box. “Open it!’

Lucien stared at it, processing what you had just said. Loved ones. Was that what he was to you? Or was he reading too much into it? Would it be awkward to ask you that now? He suddenly felt like a schoolboy again, afraid to talk to the pretty girl in front of him.

He gave you one last cautious glance before slowly undoing the bow on top, tucking it into his coat pocket before softly opening the box.

It was a small key, made of light bronze with an intricate design on the top. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, trying to figure out what it was too. You bit down on your lip, hoping the dots would connect, but when he just stood there staring you groaned loudly.

“It’s a key to my house, Lucien.” You explain, grinning from ear to ear when his mouth dropped open. “I thought it would be nice for you to have somewhere to go to if you didn’t want to go back to the apartment.”

The silence was deafening and suddenly you were worried you had just completely screwed up your relationship. He was just standing there, staring at the key, and as the seconds ticked by your anxiety grew.

“If it’s too weird or you don’t like it you can tell me, it won’t hurt my feelings you.” You said softly, wrapping your arms around yourself as he continued to be speechless. “It’s a stupid gift, here I can take it-”

Suddenly you found yourself being crushed into his chest, his arms wrapping around tightly in a hug that immediately made you relax. Lucien’s heart was overflowing with different emotions, his mind trying to sort through it all as he held you as close as possible.

You had given him a key to your home, your life practically, inviting him to share it with you. Even though he had pushed you away and put up that barrier, you had seen right through him. You had just given him a home.

Lucien pulled back and looked down into your eyes, tilting your chin up so that you could see just how happy he was with your gift. “Y/N, you have no idea how much this means.”

A blush crept onto your face as you smiled bashfully. “I just wanted you to know that no matter what, you had a home to go back to. Everyone needs that.”

People around you gasped and you turned to look out into the sky, cheering when the first few souls raced across the sky. It was just as beautiful as you remember, your entire body leaning forward as the souls grew and grew until the entire sky was lit up.

The music started up shortly after that, people dancing and glasses clinking as the celebration began. You didn’t notice how Lucien was staring at you, watching as you stared in amazement into the sky.

“I mean, how can you not think this is heavenly?” You sigh, resting your chin on your hand as you looked at him. “This is why I love Starfall.”

He looked out towards the black, inky night and took it all in. The souls, the music, your gift, you, it was like he was in a dream. Lucien bent down beside you, taking your same position, and nudged your shoulder with his as he said, “I think I’m starting to love it too.”

#starfall #starfall week #lucien vanserra x reader #lucien x reader #lucien #lucien vanserra #lucien x reader acotar #lucien vanserra x reader acotar #acotar reader #acotar fic #lucien fic acotar #lucien fic #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #fluff

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deerlottie · 3 months

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🐇 — lo siento

summary: you go too far with jackie. warnings: gn!reader, no actual smut, fluff, jackie crying :( late night thoughts

you and jackie choose to sit down near a table in the far corner. you were at some family event jackie had begged you to come with, saying she couldn't handle being alone with her family for more than two hours.

there's really no one at the tables right now since they're all chatting near the buffet, stuffing their faces with stupid expensive salad.

your hand slowly inches under jackie’s skirt, eyes keeping a look out for anyone watching. you feel her squeak from beside you and you smirk, tapping your fingers against her thigh.

"what are you doing?" she hastily asks, hand wrapping around yours. she bites her lips as she looks around at everyone, heart stuttering in her chest at the thought of anyone seeing.

"i'm bored." you shrug, playfully pinching her thigh. she hooks her hands around your arm and places her face in your neck, whining softly. "i figured i could have some fun."

your hand goes under her skirt again, gripping her thigh so spread her legs further. you can feel her quick breaths hit your neck, and if you paid more attention you would've heard her snivel.

“stop, please.” jackie's voice makes you pause, and she grips your arm with a bruising force.

“color?” you ask slowly, hand halting its movements.

she hesitates for a moment before whispering. “red”

you pull your hand away immediately and that’s when you notice jackie sniffling and trying to hide her tears in your arm.

“shit, jackie, i’m sorry.”

she shakes her head, melting into you more as she lets out full sobs. you freeze for a moment, struck with guilt. you get out of your seat and lead her to the bathroom, locking the door before turning to her.

“jackie?” your voice falters as you gently lift up her chin. “are you okay? did i hurt you?”

she doesn’t answer, eyes falling to the ground. her body is shaking and you feel as if your whole world just got shattered. her hands toy with the sides of your dress shirt as she tries to calm herself down. you wipe some of her snot off her lips and gently say her name.

"i'm sorry." she starts, hiccuping as she talks. "it's all my fault."

jackie buries her head into your chest as she hugs you, squeezing you as if you'd leave forever if she let go. you caress her head, running your fingers through her scalp.

"sorry for what?" you feel even worse now that she blames herself. you start to sway her back and forth gently, whispering soft praises as you kiss her cheek repeatedly. "you didn't do anything wrong. i went too far."

she starts to calm down, her eyelids fluttering against your neck as her breathing evens out. she mumbles something that you can't understand before looking at you, makeup ruined and running down her cheeks.

"i just got scared. i dunno..." she trails off while looking at your lips, too nervous to look in your eyes.

"that's okay," you tell her, bringing her in for a soft kiss. she melts into your touch, smiling a little as you pull away. your heart warms that you got her to smile during such a moment but before you could speak, someone pounds on the door.

"hey, c'mon, i gotta piss!"

you and jackie break out into laughter, your forehead on hers as you watch her cover her mouth with her hand. you take her hand in yours as you walk towards the door, unlocking and watching a blur of a person rush into the bathroom and into a stall.

"how bout we go home? we can stop by for some ice cream on the way?" you suggest, trying to cheer her up. as soon as she hears that, she tugs you by the hand and practically runs to the car.

#jackie taylor thoughts 💭#jackie taylor x reader #yellowjackets x reader #i didnt know how to end sorry

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 1 year

Note

I have a request for the 100 different kisses prompt

whispering “kiss me” to your lover for Xavier Thorpe

my taglists are here + you can requests here at any time

—

‘’Graffiti-ers usually wait until nightfall to paint, you know? It’s less likely to get caught,’’ you pointed out, coming up behind Xavier in the quad.

The corner of his lips curled while adding dimension to the wing of a raven. ‘’Perhaps I want to get caught? Perhaps Weems allowed me to paint one of the school’s walls.’’

You raised an eyebrow. ‘’Did she?’’

Xavier hummed, not taking his eyes away from his painting. ‘’As long as it’s not something that would clash with the academy’s values.’’

You leaned against one of the alcoves and watched as he painted, finding his concentrated pout attractive. To your eyes, there was nothing more attractive than a man who was passionate.

‘’Why the raven?’’ you asked.

‘’I just felt like it.’’ Xavier lowered his paintbrush, shifting his eyes to you. ‘’Shouldn’t you be studying botany?’’

A sigh left your lips. Botany was the bane of your existence. ‘’I gave up. I’ll never differ carnations from roses.’’ You took a few steps toward the tall artist. ‘’Besides, the view here is much better.’’

‘’Is that flattery?’’

‘’It would only be if I wanted something from you.’’

‘’What do you want?’’

‘’Nothing. I can’t compliment my boyfriend just because I want to?’’

You gave him your best innocent eyes and Xavier huffed, knowing you all too well.

‘’I call bullshit.’’

A shocked gasp left your lips, accompanied by a hand over your chest. ‘’You wound me, cara mia.’’ The words rolled on your tongue and Xavier eyed your lips, coated with a dark shade of red. You let your fingers dance up the lapel of his blazer and looked up. ‘’Kiss me,’’ you whispered.

Knew it, Xavier mentally cheered as he leaned down to kiss you, cupping your face ever so gently while trying to not put paint in your hair with his hand holding the paintbrush.

When you pulled back, you wiped the small smudge of lipstick on his bottom lip with your thumb. ‘’Less smooching, more painting. This mural is not gonna paint itself. Unless you have another special talent I’m unaware of.’’

—

Wednesday taglist: @sofiaadler @partyfly @hoodforcalum @thelilacmourning @ellessecretobsession @su-alteza-emia @achoo---uu @not-leaprvt @xaviersgf @peterparkerdilf @roadworkaheadisurehopeitdoes @dragon-chica @coldtacozinepanda @wrldofsage @eddiemunsonsluvrrr @capriaura @officialsaturn @babyfiva @maevaomizzolo @kelloggs-world @whosljt @ajpanda181 @belovedrey @emerycrt @elizabitchsshit @heaven-hiding @lilithlikestoread @est-liber @moonisu @dessxoxsworld @parker-nite @bellblake121890 @vesperazhier @kaldurahms-lover @beeebo234 @nephilimsss @mayuphoenix @sweetheartlizzie07 @watermelon-18 @snixx2088 @555stargirl555 @robinscardigan @chumchum19 @lilttblog @aphex2winn @heizenka @mystargirl-interlude @hwrtsiren @babygirljay20 @wildflowerlyss @strangersomeone @openfandoms @charlottelaffin @iheartmaddyperez @starless-starkov @ali-r3n @poppet05 @ell0ra-br3kk3r @rhaenyraswife @teaganthemorningstar @aphex2winn @moompie @ifevilwhyhot @oliviah-25 @spenglerslime @wetwilliam02 @yellowcupcakes @haileyismoo @theyslayallday @wrldofsage @manofworm @rhydianissuperior @supersanelyromantic @nicangel13 @toylewestinnyc @meme-queen-1999 @rottenstyx

#xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe imagine #xavier thorpe x you #wednesday #wednesday imagine #wednesday netflix #percy hynes white

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pinchofhoney · 10 months

Text

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞

sirius black x reader

world count: 0.7k

warning: none, no use of y/n

summary: In which Sirius doesn't take no as an answer.

a/n: i'm coming back to every one of you with my tail between my legs 🧍🏻 i hope you remember me, but at the same time i will not be surprised if it turns out that you don't know who i am,, after all, i wasn't here for a couple of months. hi, i’m pinchofhoney and i can't promise that i won't disappear again

pages that may interest you: masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ who i write for

taglist: @wolfmoonmusic @alexxavicry @lonelywitchv2

„Oh, come on, love! Just one! One date, and I promise it'll be the best time you’ve ever had!” Sirius pleaded with an endearing grin, his eyes sparkling with hope.

“Not a chance, Black,” you replied, not taking your eyes off the book you were reading.

The cozy Gryffindor common room embraced you both with its warm ambiance. The crackling fireplace cast a soft glow that danced across the room, filling it with a golden light that made everything seem more enchanting. The flames danced and crackled, creating a mesmerizing display that mirrored the electricity in the air between you and Sirius. The scent of burning wood mingled with the faint aroma of cookies you had before, adding to the delightful atmosphere.

Outside, raindrops tapped rhythmically against the window, a soothing symphony that played in harmony with the crackling fire. It was a comforting sound, like a lullaby that wrapped around you, making you feel at home and secure.

Nestled in your favorite spot, you sank into the plush cushions of the cozy armchair, enveloped in a soft blanket that felt like a warm hug. You were engrossed in a thrilling tale of adventure and romance, but Sirius's presence next to you was a delightful distraction. Every now and then, you stole glances at him from the corner of your eye. His raven-black hair cascaded effortlessly over his forehead, and his eyes sparkled with excitement.

“Pretty please?” Sirius leaned in closer, his voice filled with a playful desperation that tugged at your heartstrings, resting on the backrest of the armchair just inches from your shoulder. He was relentless in his pursuit, but you couldn't deny that you secretly enjoyed the attention. It was as if the Gryffindor common room itself was cheering him on, the very walls seeming to hum with anticipation of what could be.

You pretended to resist, though your heart had already whispered a resounding. The lovely dance of emotions between you both was too magical to end too quickly, and you savored every moment of it.

“No.”

Sirius let out a cute sound of displeasure, hanging his head momentarily. But determination still glimmered in his eyes, undeterred by your playful rejection. He knew that he wouldn't give up easily, not when his heart was set on you.

“And now, please, stop bothering me, Black,” you said teasingly, but the affection in your voice was evident.

“Just a day in Hogsmeade. One day! No,” the boy straightened up, ruffling his hair in an adorable attempt to charm you. His gaze lingered on the back of your head, and then he quickly moved to stand right in front of you, blocking the warmth of the fireplace.

“Not even a day, just an afternoon. Please, we can enjoy a butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks and pay a visit at Honeydukes. I know how much you love this place!” he pleaded with eyes that sparkled like stars in the night sky.

A little smile escaped your lips, unable to resist the genuine sweetness in his proposition. Although you had secretly desired to go on a date with Sirius for a long time, watching him try so earnestly brought a delightful satisfaction that only added to the enchantment of the moment.

You raised your eyes to meet his, trying to maintain a facade of indifference. “Will you stop pestering me if I agree to go?”

A shadow of a smile painted itself across Sirius' face, his eyes filled with joy. “I promise,” he replied softly, sincerity lacing his words.

“And I won’t have to go on another date ever again?” you asked, closing the book and giving him your full attention.

Sirius winked playfully, his eyes dancing mischievously. “Well, you won’t have to, but you’ll want to. No one ever goes on just one date with Sirius Black.”

You chuckled, unable to hold back the laughter that bubbled within you. “Oh, really? I guess I'll have to prove you wrong then.”

His grin widened, and he couldn't hide his excitement. “So you'll come?”

You let out a content sigh, surrendering to the warmth of the playful tension between the two of you. "So I will come."

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pixiesfz · 2 months

Note

It make me so sad that’s there is not much lotte or Teagan content on here 😭

I’m gonna mix my two requests for teagan together!!

take the punch t.m

plot: you take a hard punch in a corner kick, turns out it’s from the girl you’ve been talking to for months.

warnings: injury, aggression from teammates, Player gets hit in the face and player is only given a yellow also I am NOT a doctor

You stared at your phone and the messages that were on it.

More specifically the girl behind the messages.

You had met Teagan at the start of the season on her debut as Liverpools goal keeper.

She had been a pain in your ass.

saving your shots left right and centre, it annoyed you but impressed you so much that you went up to her afterwards.

“Teagan is it?” You ask, walking up to her and she nodded “uh yeah, your y/n” she responded and you nodded “you know your really good” you told her “wasn’t fun for me but you know” you laugh and she laughed with you.

“I was honestly very scared to go against you” she admitted and you rose your eyebrows “really?” You ask and she nodded “watched you in the World Cup when Australia versed you, got those goals past us like it was nothing”

Oh yes, you remember that day.

“Sorry for kicking you guys out” you said softly and she shook her head “nah it’s all good, had me mesmerised to be honest”

You blushed, “yeah?” you ask and the goal keeper nodded “definitely”.

Before you could response you felt the hands of your teammate drag you away “Chloe!” You complained as she smiled at you

“No fraternising with the enemy y/n/n”

“Shut up”.

When you went to bed that night you didn’t expect to wake up to a dm from the Australian.

‘I really hope this is your account and not just a very popular fan account’

And for the first time in a while you woke up with a smile.

After a month or so of talking online with the girl your teammates noticed a change in your behaviour.

You were smiling in the morning, trying new things for breakfast and pestering Mary and Alanna for Australian facts.

One day Alanna turned towards you “Alright who is it?”

“Who is what?”

“Who is the girl that is getting you all…giddy”

You stepped back “there is no girl”

“There is such a girl, who knew our little German could find love?” She grinned and pulled you into a loving headlock.

“Fine” you grunted “there is a girl” you admitted and cheers filled the room.

“Who is it?”

“Does she play?”

“Do we know her?”

“Please don’t let it be a physio”

You turned to Jill weirdly “what?” You asked and she just shrugged before you turned back to your teammates.

“I’m not going to tell her name yet just in case it doesn’t go well, yes she plays and yes some of you know her well”

You gave away your hints before the team realised it could literally be anyone in the WSL.

“Can you at least tell us the team?” Mary asked, using her power of being one of the younger, cuter members of the squad.

“No.”

You were on a FaceTime with the Australian when she made the first move “Do you want to go on another date with me?” She asked after the topic of your worst date ever came up.

You smiled bright, a blush burning on your cheeks but you were so ever happy “I would love to, we can walking on the beach again”.

“Well we have the Liverpool vs City game coming up next week so after that” she declared “nah, I was thinking something fancier, we can go on a nice dinner and-“

“I want you to surprise me” you cut her off “I want to know what your creative Australian mind thinks of”

“Well mostly it’s you” she chimed in and you groaned, rolling your eyes “oh shut up”

Teagan laughed at your reaction, smiling at the way you reacted to her cheesy pick up lines.

Texts back and forth between the two of you did not help your nerves for the game ahead of you. But mostly you were more nervous for the activities afterwards.

You had ended up confiding to your national teammate Lena about your situation ship with the Aussie, not letting your club teammates know just yet.

But when the game ends and the girls see you walking out the doors with Teagan they'll find out who your mystery girl is anyway so with your blood rushing and head spinning you finally and well accidently tell your man city teammate and unfortunately Teagan's international teammate Mary.

"Really?" she responds to your quick words as you laid them out quickly, you just blushed harder before she gives you a thinking face "well that makes sense".

You furrow your brows "how-why- how does it make sense?" you ask, your arms moving with your words "well last international break she seemed much happier and that was after we versed Liverpool and if we weren't at trainings she was like stuck on her phone"

You stepped back at your friends words, You and Teagan had only successfully been able to go on one date together by the time the first international break came over, it brough a smile to your face realizing that she was in a similar state as you afterwards.

"I can help you two!"

"Mary I will not allow this to become a primary school relationship!"

Soon the game was here, you were lined up with your team in the tunnel, not in the starting XI but still in your gear as a sub. Mary was behind you, still the only teammate who knew about Teagan.

"look who's watching" she teased and you turned red, quickly turning around and smacking her arm "stop" you instructed and turned towards Teagan who was near the front of her line, she was already smiling at your interaction with Mary but gave you a small wave which you copied before you all walked out.

"that hurt" Mary rubbed her arm "deal with it".

You weren't subbed on until the second half, City were up by one as Lauren sent one through Teagan's fingers and into the net. You saw Teagan dust herself off as you ran on, her eyes fell on you for a second before going back onto the play which you joined in on quickly after.

Jess had scored not long after and you cheered after her, jumping onto her back with a smile. You wanted to look back to Teagan to see if she was doing okay but you were in your element, playing the sport you love and in this case winning!

In the 87th minute Kerstin weaved through the midfield and in between defenders as you lead towards the goal, her eyes darted towards you and sent you the ball, you jumped to header it in and then black.

The crowd watched as you jumped in the air, the ball hitting the front of your forehead and unfortunately the fist of Teagan's hands hitting the back, causing you to fall forward straight on the floor which you stayed.

Teagan all of a sudden didn't care about the ball that hit the back of the net and quickly dropped down to you, rolling you on your back so you faced up to her. "Oh my god-"

Teagan was cut off as your teammates pulled her away "Get off of her Micah" someone called out, Mary, cringing on the sidelines as she couldn't split her teammates and her friend apart. The words were catching your ears as you stirred awake to whatever had just happened to you.

Teagan ignored the man city players pesters and kept her eyes on you "please I just want to see if she's okay" she told them but Alanna pulled her back as medics ran on "Teagan she's not going to want to see you" she told her and Teagan crossed her head "I was supposed to ask her to be my girlfriend tonight" she told Alanna and the tall Australian stepped back and looked back over to you with wide eyes.

"let her go over".

Teagan ran over to you as the medics sat you up, The referee also showing her a yellow card but she didn't care.

"Hmm- Teags" you slurred as the girl came into your view "what happened?" you ask and the girl pursed her lips.

"Kinda punched you in the face"

"Oh" you said, not really gaining the information, a clear concussion on your behalf

Teagan watched as you were taken off by medics and went back into her box, the game quickly changed in the last ten minutes, the crowd was quiet and the teams weren't playing as hard, Liverpool excepting their defeat and man city not celebrating their win.

Not without you.

You were taken into the medics room before they quickly decided to take you to the hospital for a CT scan.

Meanwhile at the game, some of the players skipped the walk around the field to talk with fans and checked to see where you were. Hospital was what word was heard and Teagan along-side with Man city players were on their way.

Teagan drove herself, maybe going a bit faster than usual but you were on her mind, this was her fault.

She had had a concussion before, a bad concussion, it took her out for months on the team. She didn't want the same for you.

She was the first to arrived still in her kit, your teammates walked in five minutes later, quickly seeing the girl and walking up to her "you don't have to take pity on her" Kerstin said, Lauren quickly following "a quick DM would have been fine for her", their words were filled with pettiness which Alanna and Mary quickly shut down.

"They're not strangers" Mary said quickly and they all turned their heads "what?" Chloe questioned, Leia still stepping up to the Goal keeper "then what are they?"

"She's the girl".

Leia stepped back as Chloe gasped "oh my god, we are so sorry" Teagan just nodded, she ignored their comments her mind strictly on you "she was gonna tell you today after the game"

"before you punched her"

"useful information, thankyou Mary"

All the girls sat down, waiting for you "do you think she'll be mad?" Teagan asked Alanna who shook her head "she knows what she signed up for when she took that header, she knows the game" the blonde said and Teagan just nodded, still not convinced you wont cuss her out when you see her.

You sat in the room, looking at the scans, you would have a month off which you nodded your head at "I know it's not ideal but you have to be on a bed rest for about a week and you will have to miss the next international break for Germany" the doctor told you and you once again nodded your head.

"But you will be well enough for the Olympic but if you don't make it to the finals then you'll be out until the end of the season"

You sniffed, rolling your head back to stop any tears. You were sure Man city would make it to the finals with how they were playing, but if you missed a month you weren't sure if you would get any minutes on the film.

You had seen how time off had done for others, you didn't want that to be you.

You walked out of the room looking defeated as ever, your teammates were the first to walk to you, checking up on you with little questions before Kerstin gave you a hug, silently apologizing for her kick which you told her was not her fault.

It was nobodies fault.

When they all walked away, Mary softly turned your head towards the Liverpool keeper who had left to grab flowers from one of the stalls nearby.

"I thought you would have gone home" you said, relieved at the sight of her "and go to the dinner by myself?" she joked and you softly laughed.

You touched the back of your head "I don't think I look nice enough for a fancy dinner right now" you said and Teagan stepped forward her arm raising towards yours "Well personally I think you look amazing"

You blushed as she she tucked your hair you had taken out behind your ear "how long are you out for?" she asked "only a month" you smiled "that's really good Y/n" she started before looking down "I'm really sorry I just wasn't thinking and-"

You cut her off y quickly pecking her lips, distracting her completely as she widened her eyes "I don't blame you Teagan" you said, grabbing the flowers with one hand and grabbing her other hand with the other.

"So you're not mad?"

You creased your eyebrows "of course not" she let out a sigh of relief "well that's good, might have to cancel our plans though" she said and you smirked "how bout we order take out at mine?"

"yeah?"

"yes."

#woso #woso soccer #woso x reader #woso community #matildas #teagan micah #teagan micah x reader #liverpool #mancity

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mingi-banana · 1 year

Text

give me more: teaser.

PAIRING: seonghwa x reader

GENRE: angst, fluff, smut, soulmate au (more to be revealed later)

WORD COUNT: 1.5k

OMG I am so excited for this!!! Please reblog and leave feedback, it'll mean the world to me <3 and please send in an ask if you want to be added to the taglist!

Enjoy the teaser (and the twist) hehe ;)

♤♤♤♤♤

“Happy birthday to you!”

Cheers erupt from your small party as you embarrassedly rub the right side of your face before closing your eyes and making a wish, hands clasped so tightly together they begin to turn white at the knuckles.

You blow out the candles and then open your eyes slowly to be met with the excited faces of your entourage. Hana immediately leaps at you, giggling in your ear, slightly drunk as always but enough so you can understand what she whispers to you, words slurring a little.

Hana has been your best friend since early primary school years, a bright, cheery young girl throughout the years you'd seen her around, whose disposition had dimmed slightly one day when her lunch tray was knocked over by a group of overexcited boys who paid the sniffing girl no mind. They had continued walking and carried on laughing about which of them would collect the most match attax cards. You had watched the whole interaction while sitting with your own group of friends, and looked on as nobody got up to help the girl who was still sat on the floor in a puddle of her lunch food. So you had sighed and walked over to her, crouching down so the two of you were level and offered her a hand. And the rest, they say, is history.

“So, what does it say?”

Ah, so that would certainly explain the eager faces around you. They aren’t really here for your 20th, it seems, but for the small words that you watch gradually spread across your wrist.

You attempt to pull the sleeves of your hoodie down, but to your dismay, you aren’t wearing one. You'd ditched the hoodie for once to wear an elegant dress, a ruched, figure hugging thing that would’ve seemed beautiful in your eyes had it not lacked one thing. Sleeves.

And they jump at the chance. Hands tug at your arm, which you desperately try to remove from their clutches, but it’s too late. Hana holds your wrist as close to her face as she can, determined to read it first, and out loud at that.

““Hey beautiful, can I get you a…. oh my god”“ she recites, before turning to you and smirking.

She looks over your befuddled expression once, before grinning like a Cheshire cat, “RIGHT! We’re going to the bar.”

You moan, complain, and do everything in your power to try and convince your best friend otherwise, but she only laughs at you and continues her determined march while dragging you down the road, telling you how much you'd love this.

“Wait, wait, hold on just a second, Hana… You’re not coming in with me?”

Since an unfortunate incident a year ago, you point-blank refuse to go anywhere near a bar, especially on your own and no matter if there’s a soulmate actually in there or not.

“And how do you know he's in there? He could’ve been offering to get me a blanket,” you protest, feeling your heart rate increase and getting more and more upset by the second.

“Because I do,” she says, with all the confidence in the world, “and there’s no way I’m coming in with you, no way at all! You need to find your man without any distractions, girl.”

“Yeah, like you.” you mutter, eyes downcast as you turn the corner to the bar.

You'd been waiting to turn 20 and see the words on your wrist from the moment your mother told you about the whole process everyone goes through as they become an adult. Sleepless nights you had spent tucked away in the covers in your own small world, thinking up scenarios in which you and your soulmate would meet and cherish the moment together. From wide, excited eyes to wonder and happiness at finally finding the other half of your soul, literally. It filled you with a sense of anticipation, barely able to live properly in the here and now from living in your head so much.

So to find out your soulmate was to meet you in the bar was a bit of a downer, really. Why not in a nice restaurant, or even at a shopping centre?

But no, it just has to be a bar. So much could happen. He could be any old alcoholic or druggie, too drunk to register the moment he's been waiting for his entire life and only to forget it seconds later.

You feel a pair of strong hands grip your shoulders and you shake yourself out of your thoughts, looking up in surprise to be met with Hana’s face inches from your own.

“We’re here! You have your phone, don’t you? So call me if anything goes wrong, which I highly doubt,” she continues, and presses a kiss to your cheek, “I promise you’ll be fine, just sit on your own and wait for him to come up to you. Love you, have fun!”

And she walks behind you, places her hands on your shoulders once again, and pushes you through the doors.

It’s too noisy. Too crowded. Too everything.

As if on autopilot, you make a beeline for the stools near the bartender, the only person who actually seems to have a sane mind on him in this place. He looks at you in amusement and begins to ask why you aren’t enjoying yourself and you tell him in low tones before he gets too loud,

“My soulmate’s here.”

That shuts him up.

He extends a hand.

“I'm Wooyoung,” the man introduces confidently and directs a smile towards you, which falls once he looks at your forlorn expression. “What’s wrong, love?”

You sigh and rest your head in your hands, and Wooyoung barely catches what you say next.

“I don’t like bars, and I’m supposed to meet my soulmate here,” You decide you can trust this overly confident man, and extend your arm out towards him. “Look.”

He catches you off guard by pulling your hand up to his lips and giving it a kiss and you lift your head to see another shit-eating smirk on his face. You want to think he's really handsome but he's not your soulmate and you don’t want to waste your thoughts. You have one goal tonight, and it’s heading out the bar as soon as possible (soulmate attached or not).

“Just joking.” He adds quickly, and this time he looks down and reads the words on your wrist.

He breathes out with a huff.

“Well doesn’t he sound like he's out for a fuck.”

“Wooyoung!” you laugh and hit his arm lightly, and he's about to laugh in return when he hears a drink order being shouted at him.

“Be right back.” he grins and shoots you a wink, and you shake your head in mock exasperation, a smile of your own pulling at your lips.

What a shame Wooyoung isn’t your soulmate.

Speaking of which you do think you should’ve met him by now, whoever he was. You honestly could’ve spent the first few hours of being 20 with your friends like going shopping, going on joyrides, whatever 20 year olds would’ve done. Normal 20 year olds who would’ve met their soulmate naturally instead of guessing where they were going to be and then going to that place in the hopes of meeting them. It was so unfair he had to be an alcoholic, too. What would you have done when the two of you went on a date? Gone to a bar, that’s what. Hana was so stupid for jumping to conclusions and sending you to a bar, of all places, and alone at that! You probably look like such a loner as well, perched on a dirty barstool with your head in your hands. What an utter waste of half an hour of your precious life.

You look at your stupid tattoo once more:

Hey beautiful, can I get you a… oh my god.

You sigh, looking up, and are just about to yell out to Wooyoung that you're leaving and may even return to talk to him again one day, when you feel a warm hand on the small of your back. You stop breathing.

“Hey beautiful, can I get you a –“

You spin around to face your soulmate. Your mouth drops open in disbelief.

“Oh my god.” He finishes as he sees you, almost apologetic.

You can’t quite believe what you're seeing.

“No fucking way.” You manage, eyes as wide as saucers and mouth still open.

And his eyes open up in horror. He pulls up his sleeve and double checks his wrist, mouthing the words you just whispered. He shakes his head and pulls his sleeve back down then stares at you and you can see his chest rise and fall, fingers twitching ever so slightly, and you contemplate doing a runner because this is just so wrong. You can’t believe it’s him.

He doesn’t speak, and you continue to stare back at him, not understanding how he would be your soulmate.

Because the man in front of you is Mr Park Seonghwa.

Your best friend’s dad.

🎶to be continued 🎶

Taglist: @fallinforwoo @pseudosoobin

#Give me more #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa angst #seonghwa smut #Ateez x reader #Ateez smut #Ateez fluff #Ateez angst #Ateez fics #Ateez fic #Seonghwa fic #Seonghwa fics

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twstfanblog · 5 months

Text

*~12 Days of Confusion~*

HAPPY HOLIDAYS! Im so happy I managed to get this done in time for Christmas. Hope you guys enjoy this as much as I did writing it! Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays~!

Word Count: 9.3K (Hot damn)

Crewel looked across the table, staring at his newly legal daughter (A part of him preening in happiness at being able to proudly claim such a fact). They and Grim had spent the first week of the winter break in his home picking out Yuu’s room in his home and making plans to decorate it to their liking. Something that would make the space all the more welcoming when they came home with him officially for their second try at a summer break.

What had been framed as a lovely new family moment was stopped when Yuu remarked the room would be a lovely early Christmas gift. Crewel simply asked what Christmas was. Yuu stopped short, staring at him with a blank expression before dropping his book of fabric samples. They stated they needed to do something, their phone being pulled out and typed on at a frightening speed.

Now his child had spent the last few days pouring over various party rental services and odd emails with animal supply chains.

He sighs, sipping his coffee and looking from the corner of his eye to Grim, the dire beast having joined Yuu in whatever elaborate prank they were scheming up with an almost laser focus. He was even practicing a summoning spell of all things.

Crewel places his mug down, “Puppy. I know you're focused on surprising your friends by visiting them. But you still…haven’t told me what Christmas is.”

Yuu doesn't look up from writing in their mini planner, “It's a holiday.”

“...” Crewel sipped loudly at his rum-laced coffee, hoping Yuu would understand he was waiting for them to continue. When they don't, he rolls his eyes, reaching across the table and closing the planner to gain their attention, “I need more context than that, puppy.”

Crewel pulls the planner away as Yuu reached to reopen it. He tilts his head, raising an eyebrow at the growling teen in front of him. Once they stopped he tapped the planner on top of their head, “Speak.”

Yuu rolled their eyes, leaning against their open palm and waved their other hand around as they explained, “In my world it's a Pagan winter holiday that was commercialized by Western society in the 1950s or something for reasons I didn’t care to learn out. Just know, I’m doing a funny, Kalim agreed to pay for the stuff-”

“About that. Stop taking money from the Asim boy. At this point, I can only call it bullying how much you’ve managed to get from him.” Crewel mentally marked down ‘Pagan’ as something for Trein to ask Yuu about later, the two history buffs can spend a few hours chatting about it so he can get nice and New Year's drunk.

“I’m not taking money from Kalim…I’m asking for it and he’s simply giving me what I ask for.”

Crewel huffs, rolling his eyes so hard his head moved in the motion before he trained his eyes back onto Yuu, “Same thing, puppy…”

“Anyway.” Yuu reaches over, snatching the planner from Crewel’s hands and opening the book. They slap it to the table, smiling as they gestured for Crewel to read it over, “I’m going to be in and out of the house delivering Christmas cheer to my lovely friends over the next few weeks, whether they like it or not.”

He looked over the blocked-out days, twelve was a strange build-up time. He assumed he didn't know how to celebrate Christmas and the dates were important for reasons he didn't understand. But, looking closer at what was written, he sighed and stood. Walking to his kitchen liquor cabinet he mused in his head. He loved his child, he truly did. But, he would never understand why they couldn't spend one holiday without causing a chaotic scramble.

☆~12th Day~☆

Malleus was not rushing. He'd deal with his grandmother scolding him for running through the halls at a later time, a later time when his lovely child of man wasn't waiting for his presence. Later, he would wonder why he didn't just teleport to the heavily guarded mirror chamber in his family's castle, but for now he could only smile seeing his lover waiting patiently for him.

He barely slows his strides, only coming to a stop as he scoops Yuu into his arms, holding them close and spinning them both in his embrace. He pulls away from their neck to press a kiss to their lips. Only when Lilia coughs does he realize how long he's been kissing them.

As they pull away, Yuu takes a deep breath, face red from lack of air and the intensity, “Hey, Peligroso…missed you too, babes.” They laugh, pressing one last kiss to the purring dragon's face before they pulled away, waving to the three retainers standing just off to the side, “Hi guys!”

The rest of the Diasomnia crew waved with pleasant smiles, each in various tiers of noble-looking winter wear to protect from the large open archways of the mirror chamber. Well, everyone was waving except Sebek. But Yuu would give the crocodile half-fae a pass. The poor guy was clearly shaking so hard he almost seemed to be vibrating in the cold, arms locked tight to his body to keep some form of warmth.

Yuu snickered, looking away as Sebek's face soured, knowing they were laughing at his shivering, “Ok, let me do this fast so Sebek doesn't freeze and die.”

“HUMAN, YOU'RE TRULY SLOW IF YOU THINK THIS WOULD BE ENOUGH TO-”

Yuu had already started to push away from Malleus's hold before Sebek even opened his mouth, alerting the dragon fae they were trying to leave his embrace. While he pouted, he still put them down as they wished. Yuu pulled a pitch pipe from their jacket pocket, blowing on it sharply enough that the note made everyone in the area jump.

Smiling, Yuu snapped their fingers to the mirror, a dozen of green and black suit-dressed men marching from behind it in perfect lines of six. They didn't let their friends have a moment to question, breaking into a song accompanied by the drummers playing in an unfamiliar pattern, “On the 12th day from Christmas, my true love gave to me~...” They spread their arms wide, gesturing to the lines of drummers beside them, “Twelve drummers drumming~...”

…

Yuu smiled, dropping their arms as the drummers continued in their beat, “So anyway, I'm gonna go greet Granny Draconia. Enjoy your gift Malleus, you get them for the rest of the day!” They shouted over their shoulder, walking deeper into the castle without them.

Malleus looked after them in confusion. While the song and the gift were delightful in their own right he was…confused. What is Christmas? Why drummers? Why twelve of them?

Lilia speaks from beside him, his whisper somehow heard over Sebek's yelling for the musicians to stop, “Malleus, were you supposed to gift Yuu something in return?”

…

By the Seven, was he!?

Panic flickered over his expression as his thoughts raced. Oh Lords, was he meant to also give a gift of 12 drummers? Did he need to gift more drummers? Other musicians? What was Christmas!?

Malleus rushed after the now sprinting figure of his beloved, “Yuu! Yuu! Come back, we must speak about this gift!” He knew he'd easily catch them, the real battle was getting them to talk.

☆~11th Day~☆

Azul was happy to be home, he truly was. What he wasn’t happy about was acting as an extra eight hands for one of his mother’s smaller, more family-focused restaurant locations as a waiter. Why he couldn’t be in the back and cooking was beyond him. His mother had stated she wanted everyone to see just how handsome her son had become. Something that continued to mortify him as she pulled him front and center to her friends and their children.

The newly crafted Bubble Swimways were nice, finally allowing abroad students safety from the harsh winter currents and the ability to return home for break. Jade and Floyd were more than ecstatic to be able to spend the winter holiday with their family again. Azul was as well, of course…But hearing the two eels cackling behind their hands at his misery from their booth, Azul wished he had the school given power to teach them a lesson…

His stormy mood only grows worse at hearing the sea glass chime of the door opening, knowing it was potentially either an old schoolmate or one of his mother’s friends. He turns only to freeze, a genuine smile growing on his face once he fully recognizes the person in front of him, “Yuu-”

“SHRIMPY~!” Floyd had swam so fast he was only a blur, quickly wrapping around the small technicolor body of a Shrimpmer Yuu. The eel giggled, nuzzling into Yuu’s face before pushing away to look at them clearly, “Ah~, You really are a shrimpy!”

Jade swam over, smiling as he reached out to tug playfully on one of the teal antennae sprouting from their head, “A rather dangerous shrimp at that.”

Azul had to admit, Yuu was a very dangerous shrimp as a mer; A Mantis Shrimp. He cleared his throat and moved his body closer to the mini-reunion, “I believe I saw them first you two…”

Floyd rolled his eyes, a scoff turning into a hiccuping laugh as he swam away, Jade not far after him as he placed a hand to his chest, “Our apologies, Azul. Please, enjoy your shrimp.”

Yuu swims forward, spinning to show off their form and posing, “So~? Am I good looking or would I need to come with a side of fries for you to order me off the menu?”

“Hm…” one of Azul’s tentacles reaches out, wrapping around their tail and flipping them upside down before placing them back, “I would ask what grading system they're using; you're rather small. Not to mention how much you cost. Good shrimp aside, if the price is high I would expect decent fries as a side dish at least.”

“WOW.”

“But! If it were you, I'd order every time.” Azul couldn't bring himself to care that they were in public, pulling them close to press a kiss to their shoulder. His lips trailing up their neck as they giggle before he kisses them properly for a few moments. Pulling away, he keeps his arms and a few tentacles wrapped around them, “What brings you here, my pearl? I'm not upset about the visit, but you didn't even call.”

Yuu holds up a finger, gesturing behind them to a group outside of the restaurant. Azul made note of eleven mer swimming in, each with a flute or recorder in hand. He watches in confusion as Yuu pulls a pitch pipe from their cleavage, flinching a bit as they blow into it so close to his face.

“On the 11th day from Christmas, my true love gave to me~...” Yuu leaned back from Azul’s arms, gesturing to the musicians playing in time with the strange melody Yuu was singing in, “Eleven pipers piping~...”

…

Azul looked at Yuu's smiling face, confusion clear in his expression, “What?”

Yuu kissed Azul's face, waving over the twins to pull them away, “Just think of them as free entertainment for the day. A gift from me to you~.”

“Yuu, what is Christmas and why did you rent me the most unbalanced ensemble?”

He tried to hold onto them, he really did. But the Tweels were faster than him, tugging Yuu clean from his suckers and all laughing as they swam around the area away from him and his questions.

“I-GET BACK HERE!?”

☆~10th Day~☆

The Isle of Woe wasn't an actual place to vacation, but thanks to his sisters wearing their parents down, Cater was free to spend winter break with his boyfriend. Cater worked equally as hard to convince Idia to help him make his idea a reality. Their moms would get along amazingly! Their dads could work in silence away from everyone else and claim they were bonding when asked later. His sisters would be all over Ortho, he was adorable and so high-energy!

And, as he expected, once the Diamond family crew was welcomed to a secured STYX-sponsored rental home, their families molded together perfectly.

Idia sighed, typing at his desk with lightning speed, “I admit…this team match is killer. I honestly couldn't have thought of it even with a guide.” He looks over his shoulder, smiling as he watches Cater on his bed taking selfies.

The redhead smiles, winking at his phone before looking over to Idia, “Told ya babes. Cay-Cay knows how to match people up! Plus…” He pulls his phone closer, doing minor editing on his photos before opening his Magicam, “We get left alone from our families for a few hours per day.”

“That is nice…I do miss hanging out with Ortho…But your sisters are…really loud though…”

“Tell me about it…” Cater taps at his phone with a focused expression before he raises an eyebrow to his boyfriend, “Ok, seriously. I know you joked about having the fastest Wi-Fi in Twisted Wonderland, but is it so fast it's putting my tags in before I even type them?”

Idia snickered, turning back to type, “Nah. That was a joke…the AI text bot though…”

“The what now?”

Idia’s computer makes a ping, a simplified animated version of Ortho jumps around excitedly. The large icon of a video icon shaking in a speech bubble attached to the chibi. Accepting the video call, Ortho waved gleefully on the screen.

“ Nii-San! Come outside and bring Cater-San, we have a guest!” Just as fast as Idia had answered, Ortho ended the call.

Cater rolled off the bed, stretching his limbs with a groan, “Well, let's go see them. They came all this way to visit after all.”

“Cater, I don't have friends who actually know my name and your family signed NDAs to not tell anyone about this place. I have no idea who came to visit.”

“Aw…You know who came to visit…” Cater smiles, shaking his head as the horror slowly overcomes his boyfriend's face. He grabbed onto Idia’s hand, tugging the mumbling taller boy out of his chair and toward the door, “Come on.”

Walking into the ‘Commons Area’, Idia and Cater watched in amazement as a group of men were jumping around and performing parkour on the surrounding ledges and stray floating platforms. Each were in what appeared to be STYX-issued jumpsuits and wearing high-tech-looking boots. Idia racked his brain, finding the boots' design familiar as Cater took his phone out to record.

“O.M.S! This is so cool! I have to get this for my Cam~!”

The single blow of a pitch pipe brought the room to order. Yuu, who was just to the side of them now with Ortho in tow, smiling at their confused faces. Sharing a glance with their robotic friend, they started to sing together.

“On the 10th day from Christmas, my true love gave to me~...” Yuu and Ortho gesture to the performers, the men jumping in a practiced manner, “Ten lords a leaping~!”

Cater ooed and awed, holding his phone in one hand to snap his other in place of clapping, “So cool! Did you get these guys as an early New Year's present?”

Idia looked at the leaping men, watching them double jump using the boots, “What is Christmas…? And why are you here?”

Ortho floated closer, smiling and clasping his hands together, “Yuu called me saying she wanted to give us a gift! They explained their idea and I used one of your scrapped invention ideas, Nii-san! I just fixed a few things and here we are. Isn't it cool?”

Cater laughed, moving his phone to catch as many of the ‘leaping lords’ on video, “Totes cool! Do you think I can get a pair of those boots, Ortho?”

“Sure!”

Idia looked at Yuu, feeling unease at their smile, “...How did you get here?”

Yuu smiles back, whispering under her breath so that Cater and Ortho couldn't hear her over their gushing, “I'll never tell…”

☆~9th Day~☆

Harveston was always beautiful in the winter. Busy. But beautiful. Epel sighed out, reaching to a tree and twisting an apple from the branch. Taking a bite from the treat, reaching up with his free hand to pick another apple for his basket.

He had been sent out by his mother to gather a number of apples for a batch of emergency jam. A gift idea for the gift-giving party Yuu had invited them to. Kinda short notice if Epel was concerned, he only had a week to find a bunch of presents for their massive group of friends/acquaintances and their younger siblings. Who even has a party on the 24th of all days?

The peace was broken, hearing his mother calling for him all the way back at the house. He wasn't taking that long to pick apples was he? In brief panic, he managed to grab a few more before dismounting his ladder and rushing back. But to his surprise, he found his whole family outside, a familiar black-furred dot among them being hugged and fussed over.

Epel smiled, picking up speed, “Yuu!” He shoved the basket into his cousin's arms just in time to slam into a hug with the magicless mage. Both of them laughing as they tried to overpower and swing the other off their feet.

He only pulled away as his father jokingly stated they were going to hurt themselves if they didn't stop. Epel kept his hands gripped to Yuu's shoulders, “What're ya doin’ hur? Ah thought Ah'd see ya on the 24th, not at mah house!”

Yuu giggled, always loving Epel's accent in its natural state, “I come with a gift, my country friend.” They gesture behind them, Epel finally taking notice of the nine elegantly, but still warmly, dressed women.

“...” Epel leans forward, whispering to Yuu, “Ya know ah like boys, right?”

The prefect didn't answer, pulling out a pitch pipe from seemingly nowhere and blowing into it, calling the woman to attention. Yuu takes the position to construct them, keeping them in tempo as they sang.

“On the 9th day from Christmas, my true love gave to me~. Nine ladies dancing~.”

…

Yuu and the ladies do a bow, prompting Epel's family to clap and cheer for the mini-performance. Epel's aunt had walked up to one of the dancers, commenting on the quality of their skirt covers.

Epel walks to Yuu, raising an eyebrow and whispering under his breath, “Why did ya bring a buncha ladies as a gift? What am ah suppose’ ta do with a buncha ladies?”

“I don't know, Epel.” Yuu spoke in their normal tone, not trying to hide their conversation and calling attention from the others, “Maybe one of them will teach you how to fucking respect women.”

One of the older dancers raises her hand, smiling as Epel's cousin plays with the pom-poms attached to her hair, “I can do that!” She nods at Marja, beaming at the older woman, “I have three boys at home.”

“OH! That's a handful!” Marja laughs, gesturing to the town hall, “Let's get you ladies inta the hall. We can get the neighbors all together and teach ya gals some Harveston dances!”

Epel watched in confusion as his family, Yuu, and the dancers all made their way to the town hall. Leaving him in confusion as questions started to arise in his head.

“...Wait a minute…Yuu! What's this Christmas thing!?” Seeing how no one had even turned around at his yell, he started to run after them with a scowl on his face, “...Yuu!?”

☆~8th Day~☆

The Sunset Savana never got snow. Except that one year, but that was later exposed as a political attack. So, sometimes Ruggie forgot about the holiday season. The weather was the same as always, food was his main concern as always. If it wasn't for the yearly banquet his village took part in at one of the bigger settlements, he'd really treat the new year as another day.

But, since going to Night Raven, he's made it his personal mission to bring in a big haul of treats for all of the village kids at every break. Though he's lost the magic of the ‘winter season’, doesn't mean the little rugrats he took care of needed to lose it.

So he was a whole new shade of surprised when he walked out of his humble home to a large crowd. Pushing through his neighbors, he blinked in confusion at the eight finely dressed women milking eight massive cows. Looking over, he stared as a number of kids took turns gently petting at a herd of baby cows in a makeshift petting zoo.

“...” He looked to one of the people beside him, “What-”

“Ruginald!”

The name made it easy to tell who was there. He smiled, opening his arms and accepting the hug from Yuu, “What are you doing here? Don't tell me I'm late for your party. You said the 24th.”

Yuu pulled away from the hug, “Oh, it is. This is just a fun thing I'm doing leading up to it.”

“The last time you did a ‘fun thing’ like a third of the school got food poisoning.”

The violent shushing Yuu did was plenty to make Ruggie shut his mouth. He raised an eyebrow, folding his arms in amusement as he watched Yuu pull out a pitch pipe. His ears pressed against his head just lightly at the tune.

“On the 8th day from Christmas, my true love gave to me~...”

Yuu gestured to the eight women in a line. The group of them managing to squeeze milk into their buckets in time with Yuu's song.

“Eight maids a milking~!” They looped their arm around his shoulders, whispering as they both watched the women pass around the buckets of milk to people asking for them, “This isn't a hand out. I just thought you'd appreciate the free milk for everybody more than anyone else would…”

Ruggie watched the kids petting the calves and hounding their parents for a sip of the fresh milk, smiling as they got scolded but promised a glass once they had safely pasteurized it, “Yeah…Yeah, I do. Thanks.”

The wholesome vibe hadn't ended once Yuu had gone home later that night, a fresh donut bitten between their teeth. His grandmother had made batch after batch of donuts for everyone to enjoy along with their fresh glasses of milk. A kid had sleepily tugged on Ruggie’s shirt, a mug of warm milk in his hands as he quietly asked him what Christmas was. Only when he tried to reply did Ruggie realize Yuu never fucking told him what a Christmas was…

☆~7th Day~☆

Vil wasn't happy with Yuu's surprise party invitation. He already had a strict schedule to keep during his break and it was hell trying to plan a free day. But, curse him if he ever missed an event his Onion was excited to host, even if it was just to critique it. However, when they called and stated they also had a surprise gift to bring him, he had simply dropped the location of the condo his and Rook's family had chosen to vacation in. Mild weather, warm yet not hot and lushed rolling hills surrounding them.

Rook's siblings were odd to him, though just as endearing as his boyfriend. Somehow refined, yet Vil could see that same feral energy Rook had in all of their eyes. His eldest brother, Bishop, somehow being an even more flirty version of his brother. The early 20's man had kept a constantly filled glass of wine since breakfast that morning, taking turns waxing poetic about the most asinine things with Rook.

Vil would take sitting with the two poets over the younger siblings and their pocket knives or his father, Rook's parents, and Rook's eldest sister bemoaning their youth good-naturedly.

He only noticed a lull in Rook and Bishop's conversation as they both turned to the open balcony doors. Vil followed them as they both stood to look over the railing.

The view made Vil almost choke, nearly falling off the railing as he leaned over to yell, “What are you doing!?”

Yuu stood at the edge of the small pond in the front yard of the property, smiling and waving as seven swans were seen swimming, “Hi~!”

Rook waves back, beaming down to the freshman, “Bonjour, mon vieille amor!”

Bishop sipped from his glass, “Ah~. Such a cute little sister you have, Vil.”

“They're not- Yuu! Get away from those swans, I've warned you that they're dangerous heathens!”

Yuu simply held up a finger, pulling out a pitch pipe to blow a single note before they started to sing, “On the 7th day from Christmas, my true love gave to me-Ah!” They quickly sidestepped a swan moving to bite at their leg. Grumbling as they gently nudged the large bird back into the water to swim with the others. Once the aggressive fowl was back to swimming peacefully, they turned back to the balcony, smiling and gesturing to the pond, “Seven swans a swimming~!”

…

Both Rook and Bishop start to clap, the two bold gold blondes cheering for the small performance as Yuu playfully bowed.

Vil groaned, clicking his tongue and tapping his nails on the railing harshly, “That was poor grammar. Now get up here!”

Yuu rolled her eyes, moving quickly as another swan swam out of the pond to try to bite them again, “Just because you had a traumatic experience with a swan doesn't make them evil!”

“I told you that in confidence! And, while it doesn't make them evil, it makes you a dimwit for not heeding my warnings!”

With a comical gasp, Yuu raised their voice louder as they entered the condo, “Mr. Shoenheit! Vil's being mean to me!”

From deeper in the house, his father's voice came from around the corner, “Vil, be nice to Yuu!”

“...” Vil turned to Rook and Bishop, expression in a state of stunned, “I'm an only child. I'm an only child.”

Bishop giggled, sharing a look with Rook as he raised his glass to his smiling lips, “Are you sure?”

☆~6th Day~☆

Riddle sipped at his tea, smiling as a new plate of cookies was placed on the table. “Thank you for allowing me in your home Ms. Trappola. It's very lovely.”

Helen Trappola smiled, waving off Riddle's comments, “Oh, it's no trouble! I'm just glad this one actually has friends.”

“Mom.” Ace huffed, pouting as his mother roughly messed up his hair.

Trey grabbed one of the cookies, smiling at Ace’s frown, “I'm more glad that you actually managed to get Ms. Rosehearts to agree Riddle could come…”

She just waved again, though her smile turned into a copy of Ace’s own mischievous grin, “Don't worry about it. Mama Trappola isn't the top cosmetic saleswoman of Fairest Wares without having exceptional persuasion skills.”

Ace mutters under his breath for her to not call herself ‘Mama Trappola’.

Riddle gave him a disapproving glance from the corner of his eyes. Sipping at the tea while grabbing a few cookies for his own plate, “Yes. Not only did you convince my mother to let me out of the house for a few hours, you also talked her into buying $400 lipstick…”

Helen smiles, winking as she snaps her fingers to shoot the small redhead finger guns, “And she's gonna look amazing in it.”

“Mom, can you leave?”

She responded with a swift slap to the back of Ace’s head, “Ok! You kids have a fun time! Just yell if you need more snacks!” She walked out from the living room, walking back up the stairs to give them privacy.

Huffing, Ace sipped his tea, “So annoying.”

Deuce clicked his tongue, stopping abruptly from drinking his tea and glaring at Ace, “Your mom is really nice, show some respect.”

Riddle and Trey spoke up in unison, “Indeed.”

Ace rolled his eyes, grabbing a cookie to gnaw on it in annoyance, “When is Yuu showing up? I'm sick of you guys ganging up on me.”

At the mention of Yuu, Riddle raised his head, “Oh! Ace, do you have cocoa? Yuu isn't fond of tea so they might appreciate a second beverage option.”

He nudged his head to the hall leading deeper into the house, “Yeah. The container should be on the counter already.”

Riddle stood to prepare the drink, raising an eyebrow as Trey followed him to the kitchen, “I think I can manage to make a pot of hot chocolate alone, Trey…”

“I'm just…supporting.” Trey smiled at the scolding glare Riddle shot at him, only to laugh when the short redhead didn't stop him from following.

While Trey and Riddle were busy in the kitchen, Ace and Deuce perked up at the knock on the door. Ace stands, smiling as he opened the door only to have it drop at what he saw.

Yuu stood smiling, six unknown adults behind them each with a small goose in their arms. The people walked in, brushing past Ace’s confused rambling and placing the geese in various locations before leaving. Yuu closed the door behind them, pulling out a pitch pipe and blowing.

Ace glared, gesturing to his living room now populated by a family of geese, “Don't you sing a little fucking song! Explain yourself!”

“On the 6th day from Christmas, my true love gave to me~!”

Deuce cautiously reached a hand toward a goose beside him, pulling his hand away as it tried to nip at his fingers, “Christmas?”

“Six geese a laying~.”

…

Ace looked at the geese, eyes wide seeing a number of them resting on his mom's favorite couch, “Laying?”

Deuce called out to the kitchen hoping Riddle and Trey could hear him, “Rosehearts-Senpai!? Is there a Queen's Rule about geese!?”

There was a beat of silence before Riddle's voice called back, “Well, rule 365 does state that a rogue floating goose may stay in the home for the night but only during the winter and only if the teapot has been stirred counterclockwise. If that answers your question.”

“...” Deuce took the time to grab the teapot, spinning it a few times counterclockwise before speaking again, “I guess…but what do we do with them now!?”

“...Do with whom?

“The geese!?”

“...” There was a heavy clatter, as though something was dropped and barely caught in time, “There are actual geese inside!?”

Yuu grabbed a cookie from the plate at the table, smiling as Ace yelled from the couch.

“OW! One of these fuckers just bit me!”

☆~5th Day~☆

The past week had been concerning for Jamil. Azul and Malleus had sent him numerous messages and calls asking if he knew what Yuu was doing. The magicless mage visiting them and bringing strange gifts with no explanation. Malleus was particularly worried, unknowing if he was supposed to give them a certain gift in return. He had spoken to Yuu about it, only for them to instantly try to gaslight him into thinking they did no such thing. Like there weren't numerous eyewitnesses to back up such claims… So he just assumed they were finding ways to entertain themselves over the break (since they weren't being held captive this winter…).

So when Yuu came to visit him, luckily with no ensemble of musicians, he chose to not bring up the odd events. After bringing a tray to his room, sharing the drinks and snacks with his date-mate, they moved to the bed.

Though Yuu joked about it, Jamil was not going to do any kind of sexual act with them in his home while his entire family plus a ⅓ of Kalim's younger siblings were on the grounds. So instead they cuddled, holding each other in the warm sun from his window and almost drifting into sleep. Jamil breathed out, fully relaxed as he gently rubbed his thumb against Yuu's bicep.

“Oh…I almost forgot I have something for you…” Yuu reaches behind them, a hand digging into their back pocket and pulling something out. They grab his hand, placing a collection of something small and cool into his palm.

Jamil opens his eyes to look at what Yuu gifted him, eyes widening as he fully registers what it was. In his hands were five stunningly gold rings, each with artful designs carved in the metal, gemstones embedded on a few of them. They seemed to almost glow in his hands just from how shiny they were.

“I…Yuu-”

In his confusion, Yuu had also pulled out a pitch pipe, blowing into it but not lifting their head from Jamil’s chest as they sang, “On the 5th day from Christmas, my true love gave to me~...”

Jamil sat up so fast that he would have nearly launched Yuu clean off his bed if he didn't have an arm still locked around them. In the pause of Yuu's song, his sister and a number of the Asim children she was babysitting all sprang out of hiding spaces in his room. All of them yelling as loudly as they could, Jamil just barely made out Yuu's sleepy singing.

“Five. Golden. Rings~...!”

Once the song ended there was silence, everyone going back into their hiding spots. Jamil sat in his bed stunned with the rings still in his palms, “I…Where'd you-hold on. Get out of my room!?”

Jamil glares, watching as Najma exits his closet with a few of Kalim's siblings, more of the preteens giggling as they crawl out of other hiding spots.

Yuu called out, raising a hand to wave after Najma, “Thanks for the assist girlie~.”

Najma waved back, making sure she had all of her charges before closing the door slowly, “My brother doesn’t deserve you, bestie~.”

Jamil growled out, pointing at his sister in a threatening manner, “Get out.” He scoffed as Najma flipped him off before closing the door finally. He raised an eyebrow, looking at Yuu still resting contently on his chest, “Yuu, what the fuck was that? Where did you get these rings?”

“What rings?”

“The rings in my hand, Yuu.”

“Wow, Jamil, those are beautiful. Where did you get them?”

“If I didn’t love you, I would throw you into traffic…”

☆~4th Day~☆

Home was a sensitive subject to Leona. He had spent so much time at Night Raven over the past few years that it had become his own lesser version of home. Not really in the reality of the situation, but it was good enough at the time. But, after his overblot, and a few months of mandated therapy during the last summer, he actually felt happy returning home for winter break.

At the very least, the Sunset Savana only had one pest who wouldn't leave him alone that he couldn’t escape. Or so he thought.

Sleeping in his room, Leona groaned at feeling a weight sitting close to him on the mattress. When they didn't leave after a few aggressive hits with his tail he opened his eyes in annoyance. That feeling only grew seeing Yuu sitting on the mattress with a smile.

“Hi~.”

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

Cheka popped up from the bedside, eyes wide and brows furrowed in scolding as he pointed to his uncle, “Oji-Tan! That's a bad word!”

Leona scoffs, rubbing the back of his head as he slowly sat up, “What bad word? I said fudge…” He looked away from Cheka's pout, yawning loudly, “What do you two annoyances want?”

“Oji-Tan! We have a present for you! Yuu-Tan said I can help give it! Can we do it now? Please!? Please!?”

“For the love of the Seven, fine. Just stop screaming, you're two feet away from me Cheka.”

“Okay!” Cheka beamed up to Yuu, hands gripping onto the sleeve of Yuu's shirt dress as he jumped in excitement, “Yuu-Tan! I'm ready!”

Yuu giggled, grabbing Cheka and pulling him into their lap as a means to keep his energy contained, “Alright…” Pulling the pitch pipe from their pocket, they blew it carefully, keeping note of Cheka's still-developing ears.

Once the note was set, both Cheka and Yuu started to sing. Cheka louder than Yuu, only tripping up slightly at the unfamiliar word, “On the 4th day from Christmas, my true love gave to me~...”

Just then the door burst open, four discontented-looking attendants entered the room with four large bird cages. Inside each was a loudly cawing blackbird, the sound making Leona's eye twitch.

“Four calling birds-”

“Why the fuck did you bring four Ibis birds into my room?”

“Oji-Tan!”

Leona clicks his tongue, ears pressed to his head as the birds kept up their noise, “I said Fudge. Answer me, Feral.”

“It's a gift. Now you won't have to worry about oversleeping.”

“I won't have to worry about sleeping, period.”

The sound of rushing footsteps managed to echo over the cawing birds. Falena slid into the open doorway, a beaming smile on his face and a few boxes of board games in his arms, “Oh good! You're awake, Leona!”

Leona puts his head in his hands, a growl easing into a frustrated yell. He wanted to go back to Night Raven…

☆~3rd Day~☆

Kalim bounced in his seat, smiling at the large box in Yuu's hands. He was so upset when he learned they had visited earlier that week, even more so to hear he had missed a fun prank they pulled on Jamil. But now, Yuu was back in the Scalding Sands with a gift in hand for him!

Yuu bit her lip, trying to keep her laughter down, “Are you excited Kalim?”

“Yes! Please, I wanna see what the prank is!”

Yuu can't help but laugh, placing the box down and slapping Kalim's overzealous fingers away from opening it, “You're the only Night Raven boy I know who's excited to be pranked. But, ok, I'll do this fast so you don't explode.” Out comes the pitch pipe, a note blown crisp and clear before Yuu sings for the nearly vibrating Kalim.

“On the 3rd day from Christmas, my true love gave to me~...” They pull the lid from the box, showing three small-sized black and white spotted chickens. Each of them with a golden and burgundy colored beret affixed to their heads, “Three French hens~!”

“Ah~! Yuu. They're so cute!” Kalim stood, instantly reaching into the box and pulling out a chicken to hold. He giggled letting the young bird peck at his finger before it calmed down, “But what makes them…what did you say? French? What makes them French?”

Yuu scoffed, folding their arms and frowning, “Kalim, do you not see their delightful little hats? Do my efforts mean nothing to you?”

“...” Kalim looked closer at the chickens trying to see what his friend meant. It took him a bit, but he yelled as he realized, “Oh right! You call Florian ‘French’. Ok, I get it. Hahaha, thank you so much, Yuu! Can I keep these little guys? I think they'd love my aviary!”

Yuu shrugs, picking up the box of chickens as Kalim was already walking to said aviary with the last bird in hand, “I mean, go for it. I'll send you the bill for the purchase.”

“Are these really Florian hens? I didn't think there was a Florian chicken…”

“They're actually some kinda Shaftland breed.”

“Oh! How fun!” Kalim didn't get the prank. He also had no idea what ‘Christmas’ was. But Yuu was his friend and wanted to spend time with him, so he didn't mind the moments of confusion that normally came with the magicless mage. Plus, they were always fun to be around!

☆~2nd Day~☆

“Silver…Silver.” Yuu gently slaps at the ivory-haired man sleeping peacefully. Groaning, Yuu tries to shake Silver awake. Their plan wasn't going to work if the second year didn't wake up.

At another slap, Silver finally opened his eyes, blinking slowly as his brain refused to fully wake up. In his half-conscious state, his eyes managed to at least focus on the blurry black form beside his bed, “...Yuu?”

Yuu pulls out their pitch pipe, blowing softly so as to not startle Silver fully awake. They opened their mouth, poised to sing only to struggle holding in their laughter as Silver whistled in response to the note in perfect pitch.

“...” Once calmed, Yuu started to sing, “On the 2nd day from Christmas, my true love gave to me~...”

Silver blinked, almost like it was a frame-by-frame animation on the slowest setting, “...I don’t feel about you…that way…I'm sorry…”

Yuu snorted, a hand moving to cover their mouth in an effort to not laugh in Silver's face. As they got themselves under control again, they pulled out two small white birds from their coat. Placing them gently in front of the sleepily bewildered-looking Silver as they finished, “Two turtle doves~...”

The blink this time was so long Yuu had actually worried Silver had fallen back asleep. But, once again, Silver opened his eyes, earning a chirp from one of the birds as it nuzzled into Silver.

“Oh…thank you…they're lovely…”

Yuu petted Silver's hair, standing from their crouched position with a small smile, “Go back to sleep, Silver.”

“...Okay…” and just like that. Silver closed his eyes, breathing out a long sigh that set him back to lightly snoring as he drifted into slumber.

Only hours later, when Lilia returned from an outing with Baul did Silver realize that Yuu had actually broken into his father's home. With two birds at that…

☆~Last Day~☆

Yuu's surprise winter seasonal party had been wonderful so far. The rented cabin was massive, with plenty of space for all twenty-two of them and the secondary group of younger children running around. Though confused, the big brothers of the group couldn't deny that Yuu was correct in insisting the kids all join in their party. A Christmas Party, whatever that was. But for the past few hours, they had all come together to bake and decorate cookies. Decorating a large evergreen tree with sparkling blubs and tinsel ropes. Not to mention they were instructed to place their gifts under said tree. Now the kids were on the floor beside the fireplace, glue and other craft objects scattered as they made their own custom ‘stockings’ to hang along the mantel.

No one wanted to question it anymore. Not since giving up on learning why Yuu had felt the need to visit them for the past two weeks to deliver their bizarre gifts. Something that Jack was surprised to hear about, seeing how he hadn't been visited by Yuu at all. Only to regret such a statement as Yuu stood in front of him with a smile.

“Jack? Can you follow me outside, into the dark woods, alone?”

“...” Jack sighed. Whatever Yuu had planned, he wasn't strong enough to really fight it. Not after being force-fed cookies that were more frosting than cookie from his overzealous siblings. He turned to Trey, whispering under his breath, “If Yuu kills me, please make sure my siblings brush their teeth before bed.”

Trey smiled good-naturedly, guiding the wolf children to his own younger siblings with practiced ease, “I'll even make sure they floss.”

“I'm not asking for a miracle, Senpai…” Jack stood up, grabbing his coat to follow Yuu into the dark snow.

Jack followed Yuu through the cold fluff, huffing and tensing up more and more the farther they walked away from the cabin's light. He quickly pulled his phone from his pocket, sending a message to the group chat of the other first years, ‘If I don't come back, I love you guys.’

Sebek replies first, ‘Do you honestly think that human could kill you?’

Epel sent a single heart emoji before typing out a reply, ‘Sebek. Didn't yuu bust ur kidneys in a one on one?’

‘That event doesn't pertain to this conversation.’

Jack stops short, putting his phone back into his coat jacket as Yuu stops in front of a gathering of evergreen branches. He sighed, wanting to step away as Yuu pulled out a pitch pipe with what he could only call a sinister smile, “Oh Seven, please don't sing-”

The note plays clean and quick, making Jack's ears fold down at the noise.

“On the last day from Christmas, my true love gave to me~...”

Jack mutters under his breath. “What the hell is Christmas…?”

Yuu pulls a branch away. Showing a small clearing with a singular medium-sized Pear tree, decorated just as fanciful as the evergreen in the cabin. Jack looks into the tree with a critical eye seeing something moving around. While he would love to watch Yuu get spooked by a lone squirrel, he didn't want to deal with Yuu's scream potentially causing an avalanche.

“Uh…Yuu-”

“A partridge in a pear tree~!”

Once Jack clearly sees the bird in the tree he glares at Yuu, “How did you get this tree here?”

Yuu's smile quickly falls off their face, expression showing how annoyed they were, “Jack, you are being so fucking ungrateful.”

“No, tell me how you got this tree up here. Who helped you with this prank? It wasn't funny.”

“Ungrateful. I did this specifically for you. You like pears!”

“That bird looks terrified. What did you do to it?”

☆○~○☆

The walk back to the cabin was full of bickering, Jack holding the shivering Quail in his arms as he scolded Yuu for having the bird out in the cold. Once they both entered the cabin, Yuu slammed the door shut behind them and they shouted out.

“Leona! Get ya boy, he's being ungrateful!”

Leona didn't move from drinking a bottle of amber liquid. Seemingly trying to get drunk to block out the sound of the children squealing in delight. Ruggie however looked over, the snicker stopping as he looked at what was in Jack's arms.

“...Is that a quail?”

The bottle left his mouth before he could fully tip it upright, Leona looked to Jack as liquor dribbled down his chin, “They gave away another fucking bird?”

“OJI-TAN.”

“Fudging bird.”

Ruggie snickered, the yelling finally bringing the attention of everyone else to the new addition. But Ruggie was laughing at the indication that Leona had also been gifted a bird, “Another bird? You got some fowl gifts there, your Highness?”

Jack huffs, letting an excited Kalim run up and gather the bird out of his arms. The merchant heir quickly showing it to his younger siblings and Lilia as Jack grumbled, “I also own a pear tree in the middle of the mountains now. Don't know how they even got it up here…”

Vil groans from his seat, fingers rubbing at his temples and seamlessly taking the glass of water Rook hands him, “Yuu, enough of your games. What is this Christmas nonsense you've been going on about?”

Yuu pours a glass of sparkling grape juice for themselves, deciding to finally spill the holiday beans, “It's a really popular winter holiday in my world. Once I realized you guys didn't have Christmas here I just wanted to recreate one of my favorite songs. The Twelve Days of Christmas.”

Jamil mutters under his breath, mildly horrified at the idea of a 12-day long holiday as festive as the party was, “Oh Seven, please no…” Please don’t give Kalim any ideas.

Malleus speaks up, concern on his face as he wonders if he was supposed to be celebrating the past eleven days, “Was I supposed to gift you back an ensemble by the 12th day? You stated in your melody that a ‘True Love’ is the one gifting such things, this won't affect our agreement will it?”

Azul perks up, almost panicking at the idea that if he failed to give Yuu a proper ‘True Love’ Christmas present they'd break up with him.

Yuu giggles, waving a hand as a show for their lovers to calm themselves, “It's just a song, no wordplay magicks involved. And even if there were, I wouldn't let you guys go that easily.”

Ace clicked his tongue, rolling his eyes at the brief romantic declaration, “Whatever. The gift kinda sucks though, prefect. Who wants geese of all things?”

Leona freezes mid-drink, raising an eyebrow at Ace, “Geese?”

“Mon Roi and I received a delightful flock of swans!”

“Oh! Yuu got me three hens with cute little hats!”

Epel frowns, turning to face Yuu with a glare, “Why'd you gift me a bunch of LADIES!?”

Yuu held their hands out, calling to calm everyone slowly descending into a shouting match over what the actual ‘Gift’ was, “Ok…we're gonna do the last verse of the song and you all get to hear the wonderful gifts this dude gave to this poor woman over the course of twelve days.” They pulled out their trusty pitch pipe, smiling as they raised their finger to conduct, “When I point, sing what I sung when you got your gift.”

~ 🎶

“On the 12th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me~...”

“...Twelve drummers drumming?” Malleus sang in mild confusion, Sebek almost yelling the phrase as support for Malleus's soft tone. Lilia giggled out the tune, eager to hear the full gift list.

Azul frowned but easily mimicked the melody from before with the twins joining him in glee, “Eleven pipers piping.”

Cater and Ortho joyfully sung their part, Idia between them mumbling out the tune, “Ten lords a leaping!”

Epel flinched, not expecting to be pointed to already, “Nine ladies dancin’?”

“Eight maids a milking?” Ruggie let out a nervous laugh, was the tempo getting faster?

“Seven swans a swimming.” Vil crossed his arms, glaring and saying ‘a swimming’ with a bite as Rook sung it with a grin.

“Six geese a layin’!” The remaining Heartslabyul four all sang out in unison. Riddle taking what little time he had to get the phrasing and melody from Deuce and Ace and give a neat performance.

Jamil sat with his arms crossed, refusing to participate, but was instead dogpiled by a number of Kalim's siblings. Most being the ones who helped Yuu with their prank on him almost a week ago.

“FIVE! GOLDEN! RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINGS!”

“By the seven- Four calling birds- oh my fuc-” Leona and nearly everyone else too close to the pile-up of children had either covered their ears or leaned away from just how loudly they had ‘sung’.

Kalim laughed, clapping in time with the beat of the foreign song, “Three French hens!”

Silver sat in mild confusion, eyes widening as he remembered, “Two turtle doves…”

Yuu points to Jack, smiling as they teasingly sang out, “And~...”

“...” Jack sighed, ears flicking in annoyance before clicking this tongue and singing through his teeth, “A partridge in a pear tree…”

Yuu cheers, “Yes! I never thought I'd miss hearing Christmas music…” They clap, smiling at their friends' confused faces, “That was perfect! Grim, show the nice people the treats they've won.”

Grim perked up, leaping out of the arms of one of the children, dancing on his toes briefly in a happy jig. “Finally! Watch and be amazed by the Great Grim!” He sucks in a large breath, cheeks puffing up before he lets out a massive ball of fire into the air. The blue flames twist and turn, swirling into a sphere before falling to the ground.

A brief shout of panic passes over the group, everyone moving to shield the children from the potential fire spread. Only to watch as the fireball disappears on contact with the floor, a massive red sack left to bounce once into the air. On the second impact, the top burst open as the weight of it shook the cabin, revealing treats and a plethora of toys. Grim slumps over exhausted. He had been practicing that summoning spell for weeks and it still took a lot of him.

Yuu points to the bag of treats, smiling at the awestruck children, “Those are for you guys, happy holiday.” They all leave their respective siblings' protective embraces, descending upon the bag and nearly climbing inside it to see just how many toys and treats were free for the taking.

Idia blinked, uncurling himself from around Cater as Ortho took his shield down, “Man…talk about a mega item drop…those kids hit the jackpot on holiday loot…”

As everyone calmed down, Deuce looked up from counting on his fingers, mentally figuring out just…how many people and birds in total were ‘gifted’ in the song, “Wait, you said one guy is gifting all of this…to one woman? On the same day?”

“He actually gifts them multiple times for each day. The first eleven are repeated multiple times until you get to the 12th day and then you get the whole song one last time as a gift.”

Riddle realizes why Deuce was distressed. Eyes widening at the number that appeared in his head at the final amount of ‘gifts’, “That's-that's too many birds! Too many birds and too many people, where in Twist is he getting them!?”

Idia groans, sinking into his seat in despair at the very thought of so many people, “Better question is what are you even gonna do with all those birds? Most of them just sound like weak deco items…”

Rook hums, “Well…40 pheasants sounds lovely. Especially for the winter months!”

…

Vil turned to Rook, gently taking the wine glass from his hands, ignoring the Florian laughing at his action, “Rook…there wasn't a single pheasant mentioned in that ghastly song. I think you've had enough for tonight.”

“Oh mon roi! How you care for me so! But, I fear I must correct you. A pheasant is a bird with a golden ring around its neck. I would assume the five golden rings are five pheasants.”

A moment of silence passes over the room. Yuu huffs into their glass, raising an eyebrow at Rook, “I think they're just golden rings, Rook. The song is already weirdly bird heavy as is…”

“But, they are all birds, mon vieille amor?”

…

Epel speaks up, “So…ladies dancing?”

“Cranes.”

“The drummers?” Lilia tilts his head, genuinely curious about the new information on the song.

“Woodpeckers most likely!”

Ortho perks up, eyes almost glowly in his excitement, “Oh! I just did a search. Heron is also known as a ‘leaping lord’ in some parts of the world!”

Floyd pouts, “Eh? What kinda bird is a piper then? Don't they all whistle?”

“Possibly a sandpiper…if we're going by name alone…” Azul pushed his glasses into place. The song…somehow got worse. These were far too many birds…

Leona scratches the back of his head, “Calling bird could be any bird then…”

Vil taps his chin, looking into his cup as he thought, “The song is full of poor grammar. Who's to say it was calling originally? Maybe…coying? Colly? Four coally birds makes the most sense, word-wise at least…”

Yuu frowns, putting their glass on the counter in an aggressive fashion before pointing at Rook's smiling face, “Ok, wise ass. What kinda bird is a ‘maid a milking’ then?”

Rook shrugged, “I would guess a magpie or other dairy-cultured bird.”

…

Everyone watched as Yuu grabbed the whole bottle of sparkling juice, scowling as they stomped to a lone armchair and folded their arms, “This is why we got fucking divorced…”

Cheka instantly turned his attention away from the bag of gifts he was digging around in, instead scolding his pseudo aunt, “ YUU-TAN! THAT'S A BAD WORD!”

Yuu pouted but still called to Cheka, “I'm sorry, Cheka. I'll do better, just enjoy your treats ok?”

Lilia chuckles, floating over and sitting on the back of Yuu's chair, “You said this was your favorite song. I'm guessing there are others then, would you like to share them with us?”

That was the magic switch. Yuu quickly pulled their original phone from their pocket, eyes glittering as they connected to the music system, “Yes! I can tell you guys all about the Christmas Time Curse and Mariah Carey!”

“I'm sorry, Christmas Time Curse!?”

“Is this Mariah woman the one doing the curse or somehow worse than the curse?”

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #twst wonderland #yuu oc #night raven college #twst heartslabyul #twst savanaclaw #twst octavinelle #twst scarabia #twst pomefiore #twst ignihyde #twst diasomnia #malleus x yuu #azul x yuu #jamil x yuu

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