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#and now the snow i see is basically all ice
frogchiro · 6 months
Text
I-I just can't stop thinking about Captain MacTavish and his stupidly large, uncut cock and full, low hanging breeder balls :((
He's just,, so much man you get me? He's large, and bulky, well developed muscles moving and flexing beneath a layer of fat, thick, slightly tanned skin and a thick layer of dark hair all over his chest, tummy and happy trail and he's fucking proud of it.
Captain MacTavish isn't afraid to strut and parade himself like a prized stallion, showing off in front of all the soldiers but especially in front of you, like that one time in some backwater safe house.
It was a real shit hole, barely holding together but it was better than nothing and poor little you had almost cried out of relief when you set the heavy backpack with your technical equipment down on the dusty floor, Captain MacTavish, Captain Price and Gaz following shortly after. Except there was one tiny problem; there was a very limited amount of warm water supply so either you shower all together or someone will get an ice cold bath, and with the raging snow storm outside, the rapidly declining temperature and only a shitty old fireplace to keep you 'warm' the answer was obvious.
While you were given the 'courtesy' of having a flimsy old curtain hung to protect your modesty, to be honest you kinda resigned from it since it was basically see-through anyway.
So now you were all naked, your poor soft body sore from all the running and carrying heavy equipment and to top it all off you were surrounded by equally naked, powerful men too :(( While Soap, Price and Gaz made a half-assed promise to not look, they obviously did just that; sneaking glances at your soft tits and broad hips, thick thighs all nice and bitable looking- but the worst of all was Captain MacTavish :((
He wasn't even trying to be subtle, he was shameless in fact. Soap was standing the closest to you and he made use of that position, flexing his burly body and turning you you could see his half-hard cock hanging between his powerful legs, balls hanging full and swollen form all the backed up sperm; fighting always made adrenaline and testosterone run hot through his veins and the close proximity and scent of a pretty young thing like you?? If Soap was a worse man he'd bend you over right there and then and stuff his fat cock inside your poor cunt, tip right against your cervix and all and maybe, just maybe his cock drooled a nice amount of precum while smirking like a wolf at your flustered squeak and the annoyed, jealous groans of the men around him :((
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eloves-writes · 3 months
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careful who you’re talking to
[coriolanus snow x reader]
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desc: snow hears a conversation with the academy boys about the girl he is secretly seeing and wants them to know who you belong to warnings: snow being snow like fr (toxic, controlling, insane, blah blah blah), smut, exhibitionism, public sex, unwarranted sexual comments about reader behind her back, she/her pronouns used, reader is wearing a dress, if i need to add any other warnings please lmk a/n: hiiiii! i'm back again. this is slightly unhinged and i didn't mean for it to be this unhinged but anyway hope u enjoy, send any and all coriolanus requests my way! mwah mwah mwah ily this work contains mature themes, minors dni
it was a cold night in the capitol, and you were steadily sipping a glass of posca to keep warm in your blood-red dress. the silky material was slit up your leg and cut down to reveal just the right amount of cleavage; you might feel a chill but you looked damn good and everybody knew it.
especially coriolanus snow. the two of you had been spending a lot of time together recently- behind bookshelves in the library, in dark corners of the academy halls, bend over desks in empty classrooms. it had begun as purely physical. stress relief. but after a month or so, you had each caught feelings for the other and were struggling with whether or not to admit it. and in that moment, he was also struggling tremendously to take his eyes off of you.
you stood talking across the room with arachne and livia, unable to concentrate on whatever meaningless gossip they were discussing with the feeling of coriolanus’ ice blue eyes on you; there was an electric thrill passing between you like you were connected with a live wire. to say your relationship so far had been hot and heavy would be an extremely severe understatement, and you found your mind constantly occupied with the thought of him touching you and the need to have him touch you again.
-
“i think y/n is checking me out,” festus creed smirked to the group of boys around him.
coriolanus almost snorted in amusement. you were obviously looking at him, and only him.
“something funny, snow?” gaius asked sharply. “jealous, perhaps?”
snow reserved his irritation. “not at all, breen.”
“whoever she is looking at,” felix stated earnestly, “i’m certainly jealous of them. i mean, just look at her. she looks fucking hot.”
festus nodded in agreement. “i’d love to rip that dress off of her. she acts so innocent, but you just know she likes it rough.”
coriolanus felt his blood boil. you were his. how dare they talk about you like you were a common whore? perhaps you did like it rough. he would know, he was the one fucking you. not these basic capitol losers. none of them could make you scream the way he did. none of them had scratches down their backs beneath their shirts from your nails. only he did. only he ever would, and he would make sure it stayed that way.
the other boys laughed, agreeing with festus. adding on their own ideas. detailing the ways they’d make you fuck them. describing the times you had supposedly sent them signals. assuming that you did not already belong to snow, that you would even think about going near them. that you would get on your knees for them like you always did for coriolanus.
he couldn’t listen to them any longer. “she’s seeing somebody,” he jeered, fixing the cuffs of his jacket and making definitive, unquestionable eye contact with you and subtly tilting his head towards the exit.
festus laughed incredulously. “is she now? i think we’d have heard.”
oh you’ll hear it alright.
“yes,” coriolanus replied with a chilling calm, watching you make your way to the door. “if you’ll excuse me.”
-
on the steps outside the ridiculously grand building, you waited patiently for snow to follow you out. it was only a few minutes before you heard the door open again, turning to face corio and immediately sensing anger. you worried, sometimes, about his anger. you knew he wouldn’t seriously harm you, but the same could most certainly not be said for any others who dared cross his path. the future president of panem could only afford so much blood on his hands.
“what’s wrong, coriolanus?” you asked gently.
he inhaled deeply and stared into your eyes in a way that strongly suggested you would be unable to walk the next morning. you waited for him to answer.
“you shouldn’t have worn that dress," he warned.
“what?”
“you heard me.”
either the cold or a fucked up part of you sent shivers down your spine, hairs standing up on your neck. your underwear dampened at his fury.
“i thought you would like it, corio,” you flirted, stepping closer to him. he placed a large, firm hand on your waist.
“i do like it, y/n,” he said before speaking in a low voice. “i would like it better if you took it off.”
you smiled and leaned up to kiss him, but he turned his head. you pulled a face in protest.
“behave,” he spat. “so desperate. do you not want to know why you shouldn’t have worn this?”
“yes, corio,” you replied, doing your best impression of somebody who wasn’t about to throw yourself on top of him. he liked when you were patient.
“because every man in that room wants to see it on their bedroom floor," he attested lowly.
“and you’re jealous,” you smirked.
coriolanus suddenly grabbed a fistful of your hair and roughly pulled your head backwards so that your face was tilted towards his. “and nobody else should be looking at you like that.”
a jolt of excitement ran through you. “corio-”
he gave your hair another tug. “say you’re mine.”
“am i yours?”
he realised instantly the meaning of your question. he didn’t have to think about his reply; he had thought about it every waking moment since the day you met. “you’re mine. say it.”
“i’m yours.”
“good girl,” snow spoke deeply before kissing you like he’d never kissed you before. without breaking apart from your lips, coriolanus guided you around to the side of the building. he counted the windows you passed until finally stopping by one that was cracked open and pushing you against the cold wall. as he removed his jacket and unfastened his belt, he looked inside the hall and you assumed he was checking no one was looking. he wasn’t. he was making sure that festus creed and the other boys were still stood in the same spot; directly in front of this particular window, and far enough from the rest of the partygoers that only the boys would hear you.
you gathered the skirt of your dress at your waist and wrapped your legs around corio’s sturdy form as he reached to move your underwear to the side. he circled your clit until you were practically whimpering, then slid two fingers inside of you.
“corio, feels so good,” you moaned softly.
he kept his same pace with his fingers, fucking you into a state of bliss where he knew you would be uninhibited and so drunk with his stimulation that people would think you’d finished every glass of posca in this stupid party. coriolanus was too good at what he was doing, you were on the edge of release within minutes and still desperately trying to quiet yourself in the name of dignity.
“corio, please, corio, i’m so close,” you whimpered into his neck.
he pulled away his hand, making you whine in displeasure. he liked to do that. liked to know he was in complete control of you, you would only cum when he willed it.
corio looked through the window again, but the boys had yet to hear anything out of the ordinary. they were still laughing amongst themselves. he unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock, using the slick on from your pussy to stroke himself before he pushed inside of you.
you tried again to stay quiet, but coriolanus began to coax you. “look at you, taking me so well. you wouldn’t let anybody else fuck you like this, would you? who makes you feel this good, huh?”
you couldn’t hold back anymore, his beautiful face spewing such foul things whilst fucking you raw and digging his fingertips into your flushed skin. “you do, corio. fuck,” you moaned, loudly enough that festus turned to look outside.
coriolanus smirked as they made eye contact. the initial confusion about the sounds coming from outside, the look of shock as he realised his classmate was balls deep in a girl he had pushed against the exterior of a building in the damn capitol, his face finally dropping as he realised who corio was fucking by the colour of your messed up hair and the visible strap of your dress, his eyes widening as he heard the things snow was saying to you.
your moans were getting louder too as you got even closer to your orgasm, whimpering corio’s name and repeating “i’m yours,” like a mantra.
snow took his gaze from the boys to you, feeling satisfied that he’d proved his point and starting to performatively enjoy himself, knowing yours weren't the only eyes on him. his pace quickened, driving you over the edge and making you clench around him as you came. he moaned aloud himself as continued to fuck you through your high and the overstimulation that came after until he finished inside of you.
you were completely fucked out, relishing the feeling of snow’s cum beginning to drip down your thighs after he swiftly removed your underwear to fold into his back pocket. he picked his discarded jacket up from the floor and placed it over your shoulders, kissing your head and leading you to the front of the building and helping you into a car which would take you both home. before you walked away from the window though, coriolanus smoothly pulled your lace panties from his pocket and waved them nonchalantly in the night air, catching the attention of the rest of the group. you would never have to know why he fucked you, only that the boys would stop bothering you now they knew who you belonged to.
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leclercsainzz · 5 months
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i was listening to “all to well” by taylor swift and the part where she sings “i still remember the first fall of snow” (pretty much verse 6) came on and i remember i had seen a nico rosberg x lewis hamilton edit to this song a few nights ago and i was wondering if you could do one where reader is nico’s sister and she dated lewis but they fell of because of the whole brocedes friendship fall out and the fans associate them with this specific song/verse .. basically brocedes situation but instead it’s reader x lewis (idk if all this makes sense lol)
DO YOU REMEMBER IT ALL TOO WELL?
PAIRINGS: lewis hamilton x rosberg sister!reader
TYPE: social media au
ynrosberg
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liked by danielricciardo, nicorosberg and 645,927 others
ynrosberg: weekend photo dump or whatevaaa 🤷🏼‍♀️
tagged: @nicorosberg @danielricciardo
view 6,026 comments
user: omG i stiLL CaNnoT beliEVE MOTHER PULLED UP TO THE HUNGARIAN GRAND PRIX AKAKD!!!!!
↳ user: apparently she only went to support danny bc she promised him that she’d show up to a race if he came back 😭
user: does anyone know if lewis and her interacted??!!?
user: gorgg 😍😍😍
zayn: 😍
↳ user: are they dating??
↳ user: zayn??? 👀 what are you doing here??
user: not nico using memes 💀 LMAOOO
↳ nicorosberg: it was actually a gif 😭
↳ user: pLease, this makes it 10x better
danielricciardo: ❤️❤️
user: still can’t believe mother pulled up and we didn’t get a single interaction with dad 😭😭
user: it’s the waY LEWIS WALKED BY HER WITHOUT SPARING HER A GLANCE 😭😭😭💔
↳ user: i cried when i saw that 😭😭 like why’d they show us?
user: so is everyone gonna ignore the last post?? 444?? 4’s??? who is associated with 4? lewis mf 44 hamilton?? hello?
user: lewis????
user: will forever hold on to the idea that they’ll get back together soon 😌
user: i love how everyone is bringing up lewis as if they didn’t end on bad terms lmao
fernandoalo_official: glad to see my spanish lessons taught you something 👍🏼
aussiegrit: it’s britney bitch
📌 pinned
user: not her pinning webber’s comment 💀
user: thE things i’d do to see a lewis comment or like 😩
user: just thinking about the fact that yn & lewis might’ve seen each other at the race but refused to interact w each other 😭
↳ user: they did:( and they ignored each other
user: can someone please tell me if her and lewis talked?
user: i just know they refused to look in each other’s directions
↳ user: stop 😭😭😭 you’re right, they didn’t 💔💔💔
user: 4?? lewis??
user: missing ynlewis hours 😓
user: ugh, she’s soo pretty 😍😍😍
user: how can one be this beautiful? 😩
ynrosberg
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liked by sebastianvettel, kendalljenner and 610,749 others
ynrosberg: photo dump pt 2 🤪
view 5,146 comments
user: all too well 10 min ver. (taylor’s version)??? yes or yes??
↳ ynrosberg: always!!! 💗
user: LEWIS LEWIS LEWIS LEWIS LEWIS LEWIS
user: 😍😍😍😍😍
zayn: thanks for the pic creds
↳ yourusername: yea yea
georgerussell63: i see my name 👀
user: i pray lewis and her will get back together
user: wishing for a ynlewis interaction 😩😩
↳ user: same, sis, same!
user: her smile in the third post 🥰
kendalljenner: 😍😍 beauty
↳ ynrosberg: mwahh 😘
user: when she listens to taylor swift >>
nicorosberg: never got my ice cream 😕
↳ ynrosberg: oops???
user: I REMEMBER IT ALL TOO WELL
user: i literally just saw a ynlewis edit to all too well!!! janskdnd
↳ user: SEND ME THE LINK, NOW
↳ user: ^ me too, please!!!
↳ user: wtF, iM crying 😭😭😭😭
user: i just need to know that her and lewis are on good terms, my mental health depends on this info
↳ user: hate to break it to you …. but ….
↳ user: they literally walked by each other TWICE during the hungarian gp and didn’t acknowledge each other 💔💔💔💔
user: does anyone know if lewis and yn are friends at least?
↳ user: girl??? they don’t even follow each other 🙂
user: she looks happy, he looks happy … they moved on .... maybe it’s time for us all to move on as well? 😔😔😔
↳ user: nO, i cant 😔 i rEfuse!!
user: who’s lewis??? and what does he have to do with yn and nico?? (i don’t mean to offend anyone, i just keep seeing so many comments regarding lewis … is he a driver like nico or??)
↳ user: long story short, lewis hamilton is a formula 1 driver (yes), him and nico used to be teammates .. they were pretty much fighting for the championship and in the process their friendship started to fall apart due to their rivalry and ig yn pushed lewis away after nico won and retired
↳ user: wasn’t it because lewis said he didn’t want distractions and wanted to focus on his career?
↳ user: tbh i’m not sure, they never really confirmed anything
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lewishamilton
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liked by georgerussell63, neymarjr and 784,837 others
lewishamilton: season so far ✌🏾
tagged: @georgerussell63 @fernandoalo_official
view 7,937 comments
user: ROSCOE!!!!
user: i wonder if roscoe misses mother as much as i do 😭
user: dad, please get back with mom!! 🙏🏼
user: my man everybody 😍😍😍
user: i heard from a friend that george “kidnapped” roscoe and took him to see yn
↳ user: wait wtf, are you being frr??? 😭😭 don’t play with me
↳ user: idk if it’s true
↳ user: i wonder how roscoe reacted when he saw yn, if he did
georgerussell63: roscoe 🥰
↳ lewishamilton: dognapper
↳ georgerussell63: i did it for the greater good:)
↳ user: wAit omgsksn does that mean he actually took roscoe to see yn or???? omg wkakalsk 🥺🥺🥺
user: he’s so fine 😩
fernandoalo_official: 😎
user: WAIT DID GEORGE REALLY TAKE ROSCOE TO GO SEE YN?? BC IF SOOO IMA CRY 😭😭😭😭
user: ya’ll remember when roscoe would pull up with both his parents to the paddock?? 😔 ahh, good old times
user: @sebastianvettel sebs, i need you to work your magic and reunite my parents, please
user: not getting over how they just walked past each other as if they didn’t spend 4 years together 💔
user: the fit 🔥
user: things that keep me up at night: brocedes & ynlewis
↳ user: ^ THIS!!!!
user: ya’ll ever thing about the what-if of ynlewis??
user: goat with a another goat (alonso) 🤩
user: they day yn and lewis reunite will be magical
user: missing the yn comments/likes 🥺🥺🥺
carlossainz55: 🤩🤩🤩
user: 7 years ago, ynlewis broke my heart 😭😭😭
↳ user: don’t forget brocedes 😭😭
↳ user: can’t believe it’s been 7 years, mate
user: i wonder if they privately talk, yk??
↳ user: never thought of that but i hope they do, tbh
sebastianvettel: ❤️
user: roscoe’s too adorable!! 🥺❤️
user: i know they’ll find their way to each other eventually
ynrosberg
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liked by zayn, danielricciardo and 671,048 others
ynrosberg: life so far 💗 (p.s. happy 8 months, lover)
view 5,937 comments
user: mOTHER?????? who is that????
user: 8 months???? wtf?? hello?? since when???
user: what about lewis??!
user: looks like mother gave us another dad 😔
↳ user: lewis is MY dad, idcc … zayn can be my step dad
user: so you’re telling me lewis and yn getting back together won’t happen anytime soon?? 😭😭
zayn: ❤️
↳ user: wAIT!!!! ZAYN??!??? OMG MAKALANS I KNEW THE TATTOOS LOOKED FAMILIAR WHSLs
↳ user: one direction guy????
nicorosberg: cute
↳ ynrosberg: 😌
user: they’ve been together for 8 months?? 😮😮
user: it all makes sense, i just never connected the dots
user: this was not on my 2023 bingo card 😩
user: ngl but this is actually cute
danielricciardo: cats out the bag, yayyy 🥳
↳ user: YOU KNEW!/@/&/@/‘s
user: i wonder how lewis is feeling rn
↳ user: as if he cares
user: mom, what about dad?? 😭😭😭😭💔💔💔💔
user: @lewishamilton
user: nooooOo i miss dad 😭😭
user: allbio984!;’al hepan huh?!?!@ what?&@“”
user: ig those rumors a few months ago were true
↳ user: which ones???
↳ user: they were seen together like 3 months ago and there were speculations that they were together but it was never confirmed until now 😭
user: i’m still at the restaurant with dad 😢😢😢
user: yn, you’re breaking my heart 💔💔 we want dad
user: scReaming and goiNg apeshit alapamcbh93&,!;@/
user: lewis officially lost her 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
user: i can’t believe this wtf
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lewishamilton
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liked by danielricciardo, charles_leclerc and 793,927 others
lewishamilton: all too well
view 7,947 comments
user: DAD IS QUOTING “ALL TOO WELL”
user: roscoe owns my heart, idcc 🥺🥺
user: you remember it all too well, huh? 🥺
user: ya’ll remember yn posted a photo dump a while ago and one of the pic was a “all too well” aesthetic and now he’s using it as his caption??? he definitely misses her 😭😭😭
user: “just between us do you remember it all too well” you remember, she remembers, we all remember 💔
user: dad, we know know you miss mom and uncle nico
↳ user: 😭😭😭 stopp
user: roscoe 🥰🥰🥰
user: mom’s got a new boyfriend
user: ynlewis/brocedes will forever be my roman empire
georgerussell63: roscoe’s such a cutie!
↳ user: idc if you have to break yn and zayn up but we NEED our og parents back, please 🙏🏼
user: they were THE COUPLE
user: she definitely haunts all his what-ifs 😭😭
↳ user: he should’ve married her when he had the chance
↳ user: will never get over him choosing his career over her
user: @ynrosberg
user: i miss them everyday 😩
user: i often think about how if brocedes never ended the way they did they would’ve been together, just maybe
↳ user: i think about this everyday 😩😩😩😩
↳ user: they would’ve been married and with a kid by now
maxverstappen1: have you been hitting the gym?
↳ lewishamilton: always
user: it’s never too late, don’t give up
↳ user: she’s with zayn
user: i still hold on to the possibility that they’ll get back together eventually
user: timing was wrong bc they were in different stages of their lives but i believe they’ll always be soulmates ❤️
user: why’d they break up??
↳ user: bc yn wanted a family and lewis was too focused on his career at the time, i guess
user: roscoe’s a child of divorce like us 😭😭
user: convinced myself that taylor wrote verse 6 about them in all too well (10 min ver)
user: i wonder if he ever gets deja vu when he sees her or viceversa
user: ynlewis keeps me up at night
user: we lost two amazing things 😔 ynlewis & brocedes
↳ user: we can all collectively agree it’s mercedes fault
ynrosberg
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liked by nicorosberg, sebastianvettel and 710,019 others
ynrosberg: an adventure is about to begin 🥰
tagged: @zayn
view 6,984 comments
user: mother is becoming a mother??!? omg 😭😭
user: congratulations!!!
zayn: can’t wait for our little one ❤️
↳ ynrosberg: ❤️❤️❤️
user: im not crying, you are 😭
user: the fact that’s she’s becoming a mother 😭 w/o lewis
user: this could’ve been lewis
↳ user: if only 😔
sebastianvettel: happy for you, congrats! ❤️❤️
↳ ynrosberg: ❤️❤️
nicorosberg: can’t wait till i’m officially an uncle 😢
↳ ynrosberg: ilyyyy ❤️
danielricciardo: IM GONNA SPOIL THAT KID
aussiegrit: congrats, yn
↳ ynrosberg: 😊😊 thanks youuu
jensonbutton: ❤️❤️❤️ congrats
↳ ynrosberg: 🥰
fernandoalo_official: 🥳🥳🥳
georgerussell63: can i be the uncle too??
↳ ynrosberg: why not 🤪
user: AHHH IM SOO HAPPY FOR YOU!!
kendalljenner: congrats, my love 🥳❤️❤️❤️
user: im so happy for her but all i can think about is lewis
user: mom becoming a mom without dad 😭😭😭😭
user: ya’ll imagine if it would’ve been lewis 😩
user: her dream came true 😭😭
carmenmmundt: ahh congratulations 🥰🥰🥰
↳ ynrosberg: ❤️❤️
heidiberger__: congrats, beautiful 💗💗
↳ ynrosberg: 🥰🥰
lewishamilton: congratulations!
↳ ynrosberg: thank you!!
↳ user: i waS NOT PREPARED FOR THIS 😭😭😭😭
↳ user: why’d he have to do this??? 😭
↳ user: the way this could’ve been him
user: lewis commented omg 😢😢😢
↳ user: i just know he’s regretting everything
user: lewis 💔💔💔
user: i know dad’s crying over this cause so am i
user: we’re all child of divorce 😭😭😭
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1K notes · View notes
generalllimaginesss · 3 months
Note
https://www.tumblr.com/generalllimaginesss/737276766654185472/how-many-pick-up-lines-will-it-take-to-get-you-to
what if she starts flirting back and gets him all flustered
I was going to work on a some different things, but I kept getting this request so we’re gonna roll with it :)) thank you for requesting!! Part 1 is here.
also....3 goals in 1:09 seconds....wtf devils???
••
"Dude, you can't keep hitting on my sister. She's not interested, man," Your brother and Jack were messing around on the outdoor rink that was set up in the backyard.
"I know, I know," Jack sighed passing the puck to your brother.
"Do you though? It's been 16 years and you're still going at it with her," Your brother's eyebrows raised as he shot at the goal, the puck ricocheting off of the top bar.
Jack rolled his eyes, snatching the rebound and attempting his own shot. He made it, watching as his friend was getting off the ice. Jack joined slowly.
"I think if she got over herself and actually gave me a chance she'd be surprised," Jack caught a glimpse of you watching them from your bedroom window. He waved at you, but you responded with a middle finger as you closed the blinds.
"Maybe, but she hasn't for this long, so maybe you should chill," Your brother couldn't care less if Jack dated you, but the constant flirting was aggravating sometimes.
"Maybe," Jack mumbled, batting off the snow that had accumulated on his hoodie before walking inside.
The boys made their way to the living room, grabbing a couple of blankets to help warm them up from the cold. Your brother had put on a random football game, basically for background noise as he began to doze off.
Jack busied himself until he heard footsteps coming down the stairs followed by your appearance as you walked into the kitchen. He watched you quietly, taking in the details of you. You had stolen your brother's sweatshirt, wearing it with a pair of leggings and fuzzy socks.
"Hughes, I know I'm hot, but you're staring is creepy," You said, nonchalantly, pouring a glass of water before turning around. You faced Jack, his smile greeting you.
"I like a self-aware woman," He commented, the blush that rushed your face adding fuel to his fire.
You leaned on the island, forearms flat on the cool counter, the wrinkles on your forehead evident from trying to figure the boy out. He was cute, you'd give him that, but you were never into hockey guys. The more you thought about it, it wasn't anything personal with Jack. He had never done anything to make you hate him, you just didn't let yourself like him.
"Now look who's staring," Jack smirked, the tension from the eye contact between the two of you could be cut with a knife.
What the hell...the house was a little boring, it could use something to make it more interesting with Jack here.
You glanced over at your brother, making sure that he was dead asleep before you had your fun with Jack. His mouth was open and drool was threatening to spill over, so it was safe to say that you were safe from there being witnesses to what was about to go down.
"Maybe I like what I see," Your voice was darker than normal, dripping with sultry as you walked around the counter towards Jack.
His eyes were wide, looking around him to make sure there wasn't anybody else around that you might have been talking to.
"Don't worry, I'm talking to you," You assured him, pulling the blanket off of him as you sat on his lap.
He had many dreams about you, but he had never imagined something like this actually happening. His throat was dry, lips parted as he tried to get over the shock of the situation.
"What's wrong, Jack?" You wrapped your arms around him, your lips inching near his ear, "...cat got your tongue?"
"What are you doing?" His voice was hoarse, the nerves coursing through his body constricting his vocal cords. He could feel goosebumps rise on his arms as you placed a set of kisses down his neck.
Your lips broke contact with the delicate skin on his neck, bringing your face inches away from his. His face was beet red, his usual flirty self long gone as you had taken control.
"You know, I have some pick up lines," Your voice was barely a whisper as you kissed closer and closer to Jack's lips. The teasing was driving him insane. If it wasn't for the shock of your actions, he probably would have taken advantage of the situation. However, the shock prevented him from doing anything, freezing him as you had fun with him.
"Yeah?" He croaked, your lips headed back toward his neck and close to his ear again.
"Is that a candy cane in your pocket, or are you just excited to see me?"
Jack was breathing hard, probably the reason your brother was beginning to stir awake. Before he could see what was unfolding, you had removed yourself from Jack's lap, watching as he scrambled for the blanket to cover himself before your brother could see the product of your fun.
You could feel the daggers from Jack's glare as you walked back to the kitchen, grabbing a banana and beginning to peel and eat it.
There was no way Jack was letting this slide. What was once playful flirting had just turned into an all out war. He sure as hell wasn't letting you win the game that he had mastered.
Your brother was awake, scrolling through his phone, unaware of what just happened.
Jack's eyes were dark as he stared at you, you staring right back at him.
"Later," He mouthed, preventing your brother from hearing.
You smiled, holding in your chuckle as you walked away, but not before looking him in the eyes and giving him a wink.
"We'll see," Your smirk burned into the back of his eyes.
16 years of going after this damn girl and she just randomly decides to pull this stunt? And all he could do was just sit there and take it? No way was he going to let her gain the upper hand over him...
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402 notes · View notes
angel-eyes05 · 10 months
Text
a spider in the snow
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pairing: fem!reader x miguel o’hara
summary: you help rehabilitate an injured miguel after he returns from one of his late night patrols…in more ways than one
warnings: nsfw, fluff then smut then fluff, handjob (both m and f recieving), blood mention, an incy wincy tincy bit of angst
word count: 2.5k
notes: heyyyyy i've come back from the dead. i don't really write a lot of one shots so go easy on me for this one. just like every horny person on the internet, i’ve fallen head over heels in love with miguel o’hara. this is me giving into my impulses lmao. sorry if i do anything thats out of character idk him that well so just work with me here. i also don't know everything about nueva york and if names are different than here or something so im just gonna pretend they’re the same. if they are, great! if not, just go with it lmao. one more thing, despite being cuban i am a no sabo kid (rip me) so i had to use a translator for some of this so apologies in advance if some things aren't super accurate. ok lets get on with the show.
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Snowy nights in Nueva York have always been one of your favorite parts about moving up north. Seeing all the lit up buildings illuminated in the snow, all the people ice skating in Rockefeller Center rink just below your apartment window, the reminders of Christmas coming soon. It kept your heart warm against the freezing temperatures outside. You also loved the feeling of being able to bundle yourself up in blankets and hoodies, a mix of yours and your boyfriend’s, having an excuse to make hot chocolate, and finally being able to use the fireplace that normally laid dormant in the middle of your living room. The one con about the snow was when it would land on Miguel’s patrol nights. Your already nervous mind was only heightened by the added uncertainty of everything that could happen while he was out there. What if he got too cold while out there and it affected his ability to fight? What if it started snowing too hard and he wouldn’t be able to find his way back to the apartment? You knew some of your concerns were probably dumb, but they felt serious to you. 
This was one of those nights. One of the nights where you would sit on your couch, next to the cracked window, unable to sleep until you could see him come back safe. You flipped through the channels of the tv aimlessly, trying to find something to keep your mind off of the growing cold outside. You eventually turn it off after coming across the weather channel, claiming a snowstorm would be rolling into the city in about 15 minutes. Deciding there was nothing you could do about your situation, you walked over to your bedroom and wrapped yourself in your massive duvet to shield from the cold. Worries dashed around your mind about everything that could happen. Despite being verbally supportive about Miguel and his…hobbies, you really hated the idea of him sneaking out in basically pajamas almost every night to “beat up the bad guys” essentially. Even though he had explained everything to you by this point, having been dating for about three years now, you still couldn’t quite understand everything. Radioactive spiders? Corrupt businesses? Fangs and claws? Mutations? A multiverse? It was a lot to wrap your head around. But, despite all of this, all of your worries and concerns over Miguel, you stayed. Because you knew you didn’t start dating him because of his whole superhero business or whatever. You were dating him because you loved him. The real him. The way he would always press gentle kisses into the crook of your neck. How on his days off, you would be woken up to the smell of eggs and bacon cooking in the kitchen just for you. How he would always whisper sweet praises to you while you would give him head. How easily he could be crumbled down beneath his rock hard exterior. The Miguel underneath the red and blue spandex. You dreamt of this as you slowly fell into a calm slumber. You fell asleep bundled up in all the blankets on your bed, arm outstretched to the opposite side the bed, almost as if you were reaching for something that wasn’t there. 
After some time had passed, you’re not sure exactly how much, you were awoken by a thud coming from your bathroom. You lazily rubbed your eyes and grabbed your alarm clock to check the time. 3:47 am. Yeah, that’s definitely Miguel in there. You dragged yourself out of bed to help him out, throwing one of this hoodies over your tank top for extra warmth. You also liked how it still smelled like him after three times in the wash. You opened the door, eyes squinting from the bright fluorescent light. And there he was. You found it endearing. How Miguel was trying, and failing, to reach this massive scratch on his back to clean it instead of just waking you up to ask for your help. You look to the floor to find a bottle of hydrogen peroxide sitting there on the rug, probably what caused the thudding sound. You stood there leaning in the doorframe, waiting for him to notice you, even though he probably already heard every step you’ve taken from the bed up to the door now. “You need any help there?” you ask him, jokingly. You had seen him in much worse conditions, so you took moments like these to be more comedic, an attempt to lighten his mood sort of. It didn’t usually work. “No, I got it. Please go back to sleep,” he said, still attempting to wrap his arms around himself. You rolled your eyes and walked over to sit behind him, picking up the hydrogen peroxide off the floor and grabbing a couple of cotton balls from the first aid basket. “Mi amor, please go back to sleep, I promise I can do this by myself,” he argued. Before he could get another word in, you poured some of the hydrogen peroxide over his wound. He groaned in response and squeezed your thigh to help level out the pain. “That’s for worrying me all night,” you said to him, just over the volume of a whisper. As you began to dab the blood off of his cut, he responded. “You know I don’t want you to worry.” Once you could see he was turning his head around to look at you, you turned your eyes away. You didn’t really want to look at him right now. It’s not that you were mad at him. Ok that’s a lie, you were a little mad. But it was more of a helplessness you felt when you would see him like this. Beat up, cut, scratched, bruised. And there wasn’t anything you could do to help. Not until after at least. And it wasn’t like you were a trained nurse or anything. You dreaded the day that he would come stumbling through the window, too injured for you to take care of yourself. Or worse. The day he wouldn’t come home at all. “Yeah, well that doesn’t mean I don’t,” you said sort of coldly. You stood up from your position, waiting to patch up his back until after he showered. You changed your positions to sit from behind him to in front, ready to take care of his front side now. “I don’t want to talk about that right now tho-.” You cut yourself off when you finally saw his face
Cuts were scattered across his face, one above his eyebrow still dripping blood catching your attention first. He also had a bruise quickly forming on his left cheekbone. Once you moved your eyes more, you saw his nose marked with a deep cut going through the middle. His beautiful nose. It was one of your favorite parts of his appearance. Done scanning his face, your eyes moved down to his chest and his torso. His chest was marked with similar cuts to the one on his back. You kept your eyes on his chest in an attempt to hide the fact you were holding back tears right now. “I’m sorry mi cariño. I really am.” You knew he was. But sorry wasn’t going to keep him safe. This was one apology among many. It didn’t really matter. He wasn’t sorry for getting hurt again and again and again. He was sorry for the fact you had to see him like this. If you wouldn’t have seen that he was injured, he wouldn’t have said anything And you knew after this apology as well, he would go out tomorrow night and do the same thing over again. You didn’t respond to his words. All you could manage to do was pull him into an embrace and apologize when he winced from your hands hitting his cuts. You sat there for a bit, running your hands through his hair and trying to hold yourself back from crying. He nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck and planted gentle kisses there, each a little apology from him. Once you finally pulled away and wiped your face, you started to clean the scrapes on his face, this time more gentle than his back. You dabbed the cotton ball on his forehead as he held you straddled on his lap. He admired your features as you concentrated on him, rubbing your back with his fingers in the process. You didn’t say much, only a simple “sorry” if you were a little too rough with cleaning. Despite the stern face you were putting on, Miguel knew you secretly liked the way he would grab at your thighs and hips with his claws when you did something that hurt.
Once you were finished, you silently put the first aid equipment away and left the bathroom so he could take a shower. He planted a soft kiss into your forehead before you left the room. Once you crawled back into bed, you sighed to yourself. How did you end up here anyways? There’s no way you were expecting all of this when you first saw Miguel at the concert bar that day. Some days were amazing with him. Others were much harder. And while you’ve definitely had worse days with him, today was leaning on the latter option. You contemplated all of this until you heard the door to the bathroom behind you open, Miguel stepping out of the steaming room with his towel wrapped around his lower body. You were very quickly reminded of one of the reasons you’ve stayed with him for so long. The way his wet curls were laying around his head. How his chest glistened while it was damp, despite currently being tattered with cuts at the current moment. He sleepily shuffled over to the bed, dropping his towel before crawling up close to you in bed. The warmth of Miguel’s freshly showered body against yours helped to melt the majority of your worries away. It also helped that you could feel his his cock getting harder against your leg while he cuddled against you. You finally turned around to face him, cupping his jaw in your hand and rubbing your thumb across his face. He grasped your hand and pressed soft kisses into it. “I love you so much Miggy,” you finally said, breaking the silence and drawing his eyes towards you. “I really do, and I’m sorry if I ever make it seem like I don’t. You just…you scare me sometimes.” You quickly realize those weren’t the words you meant. You begin to stutter and take back your words a bit, until you see that Miguel has given you his full attention. You take a deep breath and continue. “You don’t scare me. It’s more of what you do that scares me. I never know when you’re gonna come back or if you even are. If you think I take joy in taking care of you after you come back, I really don’t. I hate seeing my boy like this. And it makes me scared that one day you’re gonna come back in a shape I can’t fix. It scares me so bad Miggy you don’t even know,” you say, choking back your tears. Once Miguel notices you’re about to start crying, he wraps his arms around you immediately. “Shhh it’s ok preciosa,” he comforts as you quietly cry into his broad shoulders. “I’m so sorry for making you worry,” he says in between kissing the top of your head. “I promise I’ll make it up to you, and I love you too.” 
You pull away from his hug and stare into his beautiful crimson eyes as he wipes away your tears. You suddenly fall into the overwhelming urge to kiss him. He returns the kiss with even more passion than you put into it. You quickly found yourself exploring his body with your hands, moans escaping his lips whenever you would graze over one of his wounds. You drew yourself closer to him to absorb more of his body heat, though you were quickly reminded of his bare cock as you could feel it hardening on your leg. Your hands eventually made it down there, teasing Miguel along the way as you felt him up on the way down. You then took his hard, already wet cock into your hands, caressing every ridge you could find on it. You could hear more moans exit his mouth and slide into yours as you handled him like putty. He would let out messier sounds, even a growl at one point, and jerk forward into your hand when you would tease around his tip. “F-fuck baby. Y-you’re s-so good to me. ‘N pr-retty too,” he would blurb out Feeling his cock get increasingly hard in your hand began to make you slightly wet as well. This only increased as Miguel began to take off your underwear as well, sliding two of his fingers into your pussy and placing his thumb to draw circles onto your clit. Your grip on his length becomes lazy and sloppy as you’re stimulated as well. You’re surprised at how quickly Miguel is able to find your clit, but then again you expect him to know your body so well after three years. After both of you have been at it for a while, you’re the first one to get close to your orgasm. “Fuck M-Miggy, I-I’m gonna cum,” you manage to moan out. His kisses on you get sloppy as he reaches his as well. It’s over for you once he begins to put more pressure onto your core. You let out an inhuman noise as your stomach fills with the white heat of your orgasm, shaking your entire body. Miguel takes his fingers out of your entrance and licks your cum off of his fingers. It’s then over for him when you eventually put the pressure of your fingers onto his cock. You hand is then covered in his cum once he reaches his climax in your fist, moaning intensely into the air. While he’s in the middle of his orgasm, his claws pop out of his fingers and into your hips and underneath your thigh where his hands are placed. Then, he lets out his fangs and uses them to leave hickeys into your neck, making sure not to let out any of his poison while doing so. “Just stay here with me Miggy,” you sigh out, his fangs deep into your neck. “You don’t ever need to go back out there again. Just stay here with me forever.” He simply nods at first, still sucking into your neck. Once he lets go and and begins to calm down, he responds with “Forever and always mi corazón,” whispering the words into your ear as he lays more kisses along your collarbone and neck.
You stare outside the window at the falling snow, hoping this time he’ll keep his word, but knowing deep down that he wasn’t going to. But for now, you could just appreciate your time with him now. He was all yours right now. Everything. And that was enough.
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A/N: uhhhh sorry but i didn't feel like proofreading this cause its super late for me rn sorry not sorry lmao
1K notes · View notes
081314 · 3 months
Text
Twisted Wonderland - Gift Calendar 2023 Login Greetings
The JP server once again held its annual winter holiday calendar this year, and for each day during the campaign, a character would greet the player upon login with a short message. Following is my translation of the login greetings.
These are sorted in order of dorm, and then alphabetically by character name.
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Heartslabyul
Ace Trappola
Q: What are your plans for today?
❤️: What, today? I don’t got basketball practice or anything, so I’m just gonna chill in my room and stream something I’ve been wanting to watch. Ooh, and I think I’ll grab some snacks while I'm at it. Not a bad way to spend the day, honestly.
Cater Diamond
Q: What are your plans for today?
♦️: Probs a little Magicam snooping ☆ I wanna check out what's trending for #winter right now. Seeing cool shots of ice hotels and diamond dust always gets me so hyped ♪ 'Cause we don't get to enjoy seasonal stuff like that everyday, ya know.
Deuce Spade
Q: What are your plans for today?
♠️: I wanna finish up the homework we got assigned today, as any honor student would do. Wait… It starts off with a super hard question right off the bat…? Hmph! Time to roll up my sleeves and get to work, then!
Riddle Rosehearts
Q: What are your plans today?
🌹: I'll be stopping by the library, as the book I checked out yesterday has a bunch of writing in it. I find all the marks distracting, so I’d like to find something else to read. Good grief… Defiling a book like this is no laughing matter.
Trey Clover
Q: What are your plans for today?
🍀: Since it's been so cold lately, I thought about whipping up some ginger lemonade syrup. A cup'll warm you right up. What, the Queen of Heart's rules nixes lemonade after 8? It's got ginger in it, so it's basically a whole other dish, right?
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Savanaclaw
Jack Howl
Q: What are your plans for today?
🐺: Track & Field club's got practice today. But it's s'posed to snow later, so we might have to move it indoors. I know it takes longer in winter for your body temp to rise, so I gotta warm up thoroughly.
Leona Kingscholar
Q: What are your plans for today?
🦁: A whole lotta nothing. What? Not what you were expectin'? Too bad. Honestly, since it's so cold out, I might as well hightail it back to Savanaclaw already so I can hole myself up in my room and chill. I'll play some chess or something.
Ruggie Bucchi
Q: What are your plans today?
🍩: Ya even gotta ask? I’m gonna be workin’, of course! Cake decorator today, waiter tomorrow… There’s tons a high payin’ temp jobs poppin’ up all over the place, ‘cause of the holidays an’ all. ‘Tis the season… for rakin’ in the dough! Shishishi!
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Octavinelle
Azul Ashengrotto
Q: What are your plans for today?
🐙: As per usual, I'm looking forward to welcoming our dear customers at the Mostro Lounge. We typically offer a specially selected winter menu on chilly days like this, and I feel we'll be quite busy today.
Floyd Leech
Q: What are your plans for today?
🦈: I saw this guy wearin’ some fluffy ass boots yesterday, and now I kinda wanna go look for a pair in town. I wonder if they’re hard to walk in… ‘Cause I mean, long as they look good, I’ll buy some and give 'em a test run.
Jade Leech
What are your plans for today?
🐬: I’m considering making a herbarium, as the dry climate this time of year is ideal for such a venture. Would you perhaps care to join me? You needn’t worry, for I’ll be sure to instruct you every step of the way.
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Scarabia
Jamil Viper
Q: What are your plans for today?
🐍: I don't have basketball practice, so I'll be busy doing some info gathering. My family's traveling for the holidays, and I want to find out about the local cuisine and souvenirs, the climate, must-see spots… It never hurts to be informed.
Kalim Al Asim
Q: What are your plans today?
☀️: A peddler from Scalding Sands is gonna drop by today. And I’m gonna stock up on all sorts of stuff for the holidays! Man, just thinking about making a great find is getting me excited! You should call up your friends and come take a look, too.
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Pomefiore
Epel Felmier
Q: What are your plans for today?
🍎: Me and the Spelldrive guys are gonna shovel out the field again 'cause the snow's piling up. Honestly, it's no skin off my back, but everybody else just about keeled over yesterday from shoveling… Pretty pathetic, huh?
Rook Hunt
Q: What are your plans for today?
🏹: I intend to go check on the house plants I've been cultivating as part of my science club endeavors. Just how will their little countenances look today, I wonder… I'd be delighted to observe any new changes in them.
Vil Schoenheit
Q: What are your plans for today?
👑: I'm going to go pick up this spring coat I ordered, and then look for some accessories to pair with it. What, you think it's too early to prep for spring? Oh, please. If you wait until it starts getting warm out, you'll already be a season behind.
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Ignihyde
Idia Shroud
Q: What are your plans for today?
💀: Uhh, same thing I do everyday: game… Don't really see any reason to go out when it's so friggin' cold. Besides, we upgraded Ignihyde's network recently and now it's fast af lol. And that means it's finally time for another all-nighter!
Ortho Shroud
Q: What are your plans for today?
🤖: This new game I pre-ordered online has arrived, so I guess I'll just spend the day playing it with my roommates. I bought the physical version, so it does take up some space, but I like having my favorite series close at hand.
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Diasomnia
Lilia Vanrouge
Q: What are your plans today?
🦇: I’ve got band practice with the pop music club today. Alas… It’s so cold out I can hardly feel my poor fingers. Hm? Oh, don’t you worry a thing. I've already got the sheet music memorized, so all that’s left is to make sure we're all in sync!
Malleus Draconia
Q: What are your plans for today?
🐲: Rather chilly today, isn't it? Perfect weather to enjoy some frozen dessert indoors, where it's nice and warm. Perhaps I shall invite Lilia and the others to join in later… I like to play host every now and then for a change.
Sebek Zigvolt
Q: What are your plans for today?
⚡: I intend to read the book I ordered at the Mystery Shop recently. I’ve been eagerly awaiting its arrival. FOR YOU SEE, MY GRANDFATHER WAS SO KIND AS TO RECOMMEND IT TO ME! AND SO I MUST READ IT AGAIN AND AGAIN, AND IMPART TO HIM MY IMPRESSIONS!
Silver
Q: What are your plans for today?
⚔️: My father's going to go over some sword fighting maneuvers with me in a little bit. I'd wanted to get my homework done beforehand… But I ended up falling asleep, and my notebook's still totally blank. Not good…
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Ramshackle
Q: What are your plans for today?
😺: Ugh, it’s so cold!! Oi, henchman! Let's just chill out in that Kotatsu thingy today. We’ll chow down on lots of yummy candy together, and play video games… Nyahaha! I gotta feeling today’s gonna be totally awesome.
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tnsophiaonly · 5 months
Text
HATED - SAGAU.
In which Self-Aware Genshin People loathe your existence and believe that you're the founding reason why they're not real.
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Tired of this obsessive and lovesick creator or impostor SAGAU? Then what about this alternate? Be wary, it's dark and we'll mentions of torture something ig idk
Basically. This is impostor AU and the real creator who looks like you is horrible af. And you're an actual impasta.
Special mentions (♡): @sleepparalasis @haru-tofuu
--
Hatred. That's all they could feel when they see your face throughout the screen. Amusement. When they see your face wrinkle in pain and frustration when you get a standard character in through wishing or when you get the wrong stats in artifacts. After all, you were the one that made that right? You were the sole reason for your own pain, you made them in a fictional universe, where nothing is real. You're horrible for that and you should take the consequences of such.
That's why you're transported in this place, in which you thought the world was heaven before became your most terrorful nightmare. Hell, just like how it should be. Teyvat is hell. An upside down world, ruled by gods-demons and filled with darkness and pain. The world you created. Right? That's your fault. Your fault alone.
---
"Oh great heavens, that's cold..." you chatted out, freezing and shaking because of the cold. You face the wrath of the Cryo Archon's Nation. The home of the so-called organization, Fatui. Snow and ice were evident everywhere. And the cold, the cold was for sure affecting you. (Especially if you live in tropical areas or close to the equator? I feel so sorry for you)
Any bits of liquid that could be created were frozen within milliseconds. So you're sobbing just makes it worse, maybe if you actually used your feet and moved and found a place to heat yourself up instead of shining and sobbing, you could probably be in a great condition right now.
But you chose to cry. Pathetic really. And you expect this to be an impostor of me? The so great, almighty creator of The Genshin Universe? Absolutely not. I'd rather guide the Traveller to the absolute truth of this world at a fast pace than be, represented by you.
But fear not, I am sure I am able to at least give some potential to you... OFCOURSE I can do it. It's me after all.
But now i should really have this pathetic excuse of an impostor of mine to.. move and do something rather than cry and freeze to death. After all, I can't have my ungrateful people of Teyvat run after a very obvious impostor who's close to dying eh?
So, much to my dismay, I chose to give you guidance, see? Such a kind creator, you're a very lucky fella..
"ah-aaachoo-!" You sneezed, it feels like something just happened, but what? And why? Those questions are left unanswered. As you unconsciously started moving your freezing feet to walk and find some shelter to heat up.
Oh how the torturous snow storm causes you pain and despair. Why were you striving forward anyways? Your whole body aches. It hurts. Why. Why.
"You deserved it." The inner within of the core speaks.
You deserved it..? Why?
No one answers.
----
After walking away which felt like centuries, you finally are met with a bonfire, a large one in fact, the only problem was that it's within a fatui camp. Oh god...
"Well, well, well.. what's a worm like you doing here for?" A taunting and mocking tone says so to you. Oh my Lord, oh it just couldn't get worse thab this, bits of electricity shocked you slowly, you were feeling the wrath of The Balladeer, the 6th Fatui Harbinger. You could only stay in your spot as you feel electro build up within you, hurting you, killing you.
You're sweating bullets of fear just turns to ice because of the environment, it was no use to run.
"Well well comrade, what's with the guest? I didn't know you were quite the welcomer!" A mocking and sarcastic voice taunted the hat guy, which earned him a glare for, the ginger bread- hair man had a boyish charm and looks, almost looking innocent if you didn't know better. Well guess it got worse.
The ginger head guy's eyes widen, as his taunting smile quickly turns into a frown. The mocking gaze turns into a face of anger, annoyance.
"Is that..." he muttered, bewildered and angry. The ginger guy quickly launched unto you, with bloodlust and wrath causing you to flinch, that's before the entire electricity builds up within you and completely shocked you to oblivion, and the ginger's defense mechanism, of course he backed down.
The electro flowing within you caused so much pain, overbearing pain, yet you did not scream. You did not scream in pain. That one thing The Balladeer was hoping for. Maybe the shock was too strong you couldn't scream at all? Yeah, that's it..
The electro shock died down, and you passed out on the spot. Yet you were still not dead. Despite the fact that electro burns were evident, and that you were crisped to the spot, you're still alive. How lucky, or should I say unlucky?
The ginger- you know what I'm tired of calling him ginger, it's Childe. Childe went close to your passed out body. Caressing your electro-burned hand, before gripping it.
A bone crack was heard, oh did he crack it too hard? No worries, he doesn't care. The fatui skirmishers walked close to the place "We'll take care of it Lord Tartaglia." The pyro agent spoke.
"No." The Balladeer protested, as he grabbed a fistful of your hair and forced your head to look at him, ofcourse you're still passed out, and you had an expression of sorrow, The Balladeer could just smirk. It's the creator.
"I could make use of our Grace after all..." He spoke sinisterly. The agents were on the edge and so was Childe, it really was the creator, they were so close to jumping and killing you on the spot if it weren't for the fact that The Balladeer was there.
-----
The sound of chains vibrated throughout the dungeon, sweet little breaths and movements.
You looked around, it was pitch black and only one candle was the source of light, which was out of reach for you.
A swarming and overwhelming feeling of cold and warm was brushed against you, the electro infused chains hurt when you try to make even the slightest movement, why were you here? Don't act stupid, you're aware why.
You could partly hear the conversation outside. It sounded a lot like the fatui agents earlier, it seems they were discussing either transporting you or guarding you still.
Your breath hitches—which echoed in the room— when they mentioned Il Dottore. They're not planning on giving you to him right...?
You could feel yourself sweating bullets, your eyes showed fear as your expression scrunches into fear. There's a 50/50 chance, but you've always lost your 50-50!
The door opens, and someone steps inside, a blue haired fellow, walking slowly and causing an intense atmosphere. You could feel yourself shaken, not because of him, but because everything feels colder. At least that's what's on your mind.
The blue haired fellow caressed your chin. And forcibly made you look at him.
"My, what a wondrous pet The Balladeer has taken upon."
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cherryfennec · 18 days
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So this was originally supposed to have a kickass artwork of the bros using the power- up and stuff but then I got sick and then I realised Im out of time and here we are so uh hieee everyone and welcome to my post-
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Happy MAR10 Day! For the occasion, let's go back to the (not discussed in a long time) Power-Up headcanons. This time I'll focus on the Ice Flower (most of the lore under cut like last time)!
This was surprisingly requested by some (3) people. I'm going to be honest, I barely remembered this one at first. I kinda know how it looks and generally what it does, which will have to be enough to base this entire thing on. With that being said, I did some thinking and here's what I've got:
General headcanons;
This one has difficulty surviving outside of it's original environment. If you want to keep a batch in the house your best bet is to use the fridge/freezer, otherwise it looses both it's blue look and the stored energy. See, the Ice Flower originally wasn't (and still technically isn't) it's own flower species. Let me elaborate:
Nowadays the conditions there are not as harsh, however a rather long time ago travelers heading towards places like the Snow Mountain needed to be both be specially trained and very well equipped to even attempt a climb. A heat source was a big must, and it so happens that it often consisted of Fire Flowers. They'd put some in their coats to keep warm, as well as store a few in the backpack just in case they needed to protect themselves from monsters. When setting camp during their journeys these hikers would use the Power-Ups energy to start fires and cook food. After the flowers were depleted of their energy and entered their hibernation stage (I talked about it in my Fire Flower post), they would be simply thrown away like trash. Waiting for them to recharge was often not beneficial, especially in conditions like this, so there was ultimately no point in keeping them. However like I mentioned before, Fire Flowers are very adaptable, which actually wasn't that known at the time. Instead of wilting, these stubborn plants would try gathering energy like the usual, but since it was very cold and direct sunlight was limited, they decided to collect something else. While not all flowers made it, a few managed to amass the eminating frost and turn it into a new kind of energy which proved to be enough for their survival. With time even their petal colour changed to blueish hues. And thus the Fire Flowers in the area became Ice Flowers and over the years started populating the mountains and snowfields.
The Ice Flower is a multiple use Power-Up in theory but more often than not you'll find yourself without a place to freeze it after using one. If it's not placed in a cold environment during it's hibernation it'll either die or, more uncommonly, simply revert back to being a Fire Flower after a long process.
Mario and Luigi specific headcanons;
While the idea of being able to freeze stuff sounded cool it wasn't very fun to learn.
In Marios case imagine: you're good at something, really, REALLY good at something. Okay great, now imagine being told that your knowledge doesn't matter because now you need to do the opposite of what you've learned. Back with the theme of "elements don't mix", Mario absolutely hated how much effort he needed to put into focusing the newfound energy to barely make a tiny projectile. Even before he got the Firebrand he had enough difficulty with it, so it only got worse from there. This was one of the rare times where learning the bare basics instead of mastering a Power-Up was enough for him.
Luigi didn't really mind. The main complications came more from the vague instructions he received during training rather than his own inability. Suprisingly or not the Thunderhand didn't make this one much of a pain either, I guess anomalies attract eachother. While he doesn't consider this Power-Up as a favourite he still finds it pretty fun that he can freeze and walk on water. Did you know, he used to be pretty good at skating in high school. If you didn't he'll make sure to bring it up at a given occasion. Back to ice powers, he definitely outdoes his brother on this one, even if not by much.
There's probably one more thing I should mention. Despite the contrary belief the Ice Flower does NOT increase ones tolerance to cold temperatures. To be frank it might even decrease it by lowering the bodys natural temperature, making the chances of frostbite higher. And so, they learned it the hard way.
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I don't know how much sense I conveyed through my broken wording and less than average writing skills but it's not that shabby if I say so myself. Just like last time some details might change in the future but for now that's the general idea that I have considering the Ice Flower. Once again thank you to whoever took the time to read this!
In conclusion, this is more of a situational Power-Up. It's neither easy to find or preserve which can be annoying but despite all this it's hard to deny that it's ultimately a useful tool.
Few bonus headcanons!
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DPxDC story idea prompt thing #12
Dr. Victor Fries had swore both to himself and his precious wife, Nora, that he would find a cure for the both of them. He would do anything to save his wife from her terminal illness and had been keeping her in a frozen state until the day he could cure her. His precious snow angel. His most beloved ice princess.
But time is a crueler mistress than even the cold. Victor had been apart from his sweet Nora for years now, and he was no closer to finding a cure for her. For his part, Victor Fries was hardly the same man he had been when he and his wife agreed to have her cryogennically frozen until he could save her all those years ago. Victor- better known as Mr. Freeze these days- understood the cold that Nora was trapped in all too well now... But where she rested in her timeless winter slumber, Victor stayed awake.
It had been a freak accident that forced Victor to have to live this cryogenic suit or die. And he would not die. Not until his wife could be saved from the grips of death. He may have been doomed, little more than a frozen corpse spurred on to keep living for the sake of his wife, but if there was even a chance of his wife being cured and able to lead a normal life again, he would take it. There would be no cure for him. No. He didn't want one anymore. Once Nora's life had been saved, that would be enough for him. Once Nora was safe and healthy once more, he would be happy and permit himself to die at last. He often dreamed of feeling that warmth again. The warmth of Nora's hand against his skin. A feeling he could only experience when death finally came for him.
Meanwhile in the Ghost Zone, in the reaches of the Realm of the Far Frozen, something was forming. A core of ice, touched with an undying love that had never ceased nor hesitated for a moment over the long, frozen years. And from that core formed a woman, her frozen form in death just as beautiful as she was in life.
She collapsed into the soft, powdery snow, groaning as she slowly opened her eyes for the first time. "Victor...?" She asked into the air. She may have just formed, but she could feel that something was... Wrong. Like she wasn't entirely there... She shivered. She was cold. She was so, so cold... Why did she feel cold? Somehow in the center of her being she knew that this was her element... And something so dear to her shouldn't be able to hurt her... Right...? And yet she felt cold...
She looked up, but found that only one of her eyes could see. It somehow felt as if her other eye was closed and she could not open it no matter how hard she tried, even though she could feel with her fingers that her eyes were both open. No matter. "... Where am I...?" Nora asked aloud as she searched around her for her Victor. Where was he? Where was her Victor...? Had he found a cure? ... A cure for what...? ... Who was Victor?
Note: Just an idea that I came up with. Basically, Mr. Freeze is still doing his Mr. Freeze things in Gotham, but Nora has been frozen for so long in this pseudo-dead state that she half forms as a ghost in the Ghost Zone. I don't know how ghosts get born (or what the fanon says about that), so I'm making shit up here. Just roll with it. :p Nora is technically still "alive" where Victor is storing her... Or rather, she can be brought back to life relatively easily. But her illness isn't gone either, and by all accounts, she's technically dead as all of her biological functions have been perfectly frozen and are inactive. So she's both dead and not dead, you get me? So since she's technically half dead pretty much, I just wondered... What would happen if she somehow managed to form as an at least partial ghost while in this state!!!? Please use this idea and play with it all you like. I just... love Nora so much. Nora my beloved.
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heartsfourdazai · 2 months
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Can I request a scenario where dazai and fem reader are hanging out together and suddenly some guy that went out with her once on a bad date sees them and assumes they’re together and is really sad about it and asking for another chance. Like lowkey embarrassing. And dazai is a bit jealous because “why didn’t she tell me she’s been going on dates?”
I just want a little funny Chaos with crushing!dazai.
when dazai has a crush on you - dazai x fem reader
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synopsis: on which the osamu dazai had a massive crush on you; however he has no idea how to go about it and suddenly has an awkward interaction with your ex, who begs for you to get back with him.
a/n: when life gives you motivation, you use it all in one one-shot and never return!!
"what's your favorite ice cream flavor?" he asked you as the two of you were walking down the streets of yokohama. winter was finally here and snow covered what used to be green grass and the clouds were in the shades of grey and white.
"dazai, it's freezing!"
"ah, but that doesn't mean we can't have a special treat!" he grinned, quirking an eyebrow as he waited for a response out of you.
you rolled your eyes with a smile; "if you just have to know!!" you said dramatically, a hand to your chest, "it's pistachio..."
"you basic-"
"HUSH!" you clamped his mouth with your hand, laughing to yourself as he looked at you with a "GIRL WTF-"
"i don't care if calls me a basic bitch, THERE GOOD!!" he held his arms up in defense, "your words not mine!"
you slapped his arm once more as you both kept walking.
"are you going to pay?"
"didn't i tell you? i lost my wallet in the river, it belongs to the frogs now."
"osamu- that was 2 YEARS AGO!!"
"and those frogs MUST have a mansion by now!"
"oh my go-"
"but you, my sweet y/n, you must have some spare change to by your best friend in the whole wide world to get some ice cream for us??????"
he blinked at you with his fingers interlocked with each other and you sighed, shoving his face away from his own.
"i literally hate you..."
"you looooooove me~"
what he said may have been true; we'll, he hoped?
-
"have you ever wondered if atsushi purrs?"
you looked up at dazai; raising an eyebrow as you took a bite of your ice cream. "where does your mind go after work hours?" you shook your head as you chuckled; "wait, I'm serious. like if you scratch behind his ear, does he meow?"
as dazai went on and on about god knows what; you saw a familiar boy stand next to the store of the small ice cream shop...he seemed to be with other boys, around your age, and he was just kinda glancing over at you.
where do you recognize him from?
"are you okay?" dazais voice caused you to look at him quickly, "hm?"
dazai grinned, "something on your mind? is it my, witty charms? my gorgeous vocal cords, or perhaps-"
you shake your head chuckling at just how stupid your best friend is, "no- no, sorry. i just zoned out!"
he nods, not wanting to push further and once again started to talk about random things that popped into his mind.
after a bit, you notice the boy was gone however his friends were still there; you even recognized some of those boys as well. why does it look a little bit like-
"jeezus-"
"what was that?"
"i said "shoeless!"
"Y/N!!!!"
the sudden scream of your name from another man's voice besides dazais caused you both to jump.
you looked to your right, as dazai followed your stare...a boy who rushed over to you with blonde locks and baby blue eyes. he seemed to be in some sort of distress as he got on his knees.
"cody, what are you-"
"i'm so sorry i left you, baby, i was a fool to think i could find someone better!"
dazai was beyond confused as he said nothing but just watch. you glared at the boy who was on his knees; "cody, you cheated on me, and suddenly on your knees begging for me back?"
he nods, grabbing your hands as he looked you in the eye; "you were my everything, and i was stupid to believe i never needed you. I've been a mess without, i've let my hair grow up, i haven't shaved in 8 months, and i'm all alone!!"
"uhm..."
both you and your ex boyfriend looked at dazai who cleared his throat.
"y/n, what ...what is going on?"
before you could respond, cody shouts out; "YOU MOVED ON WITH HIM? what does he have that i don't? oh, OH, your into bandages?"
dazai gave him a "bitch what the fuck" look as he continued; "i can be better then anything he can be to you! i bet he doesn't even know what your favorite ice cream flavor is and got you one you didn't like!!"
"cody, i'm not dating anyone!!!" you blushed furiously, pulling your hand away.
both cody and dazai'a cheeks flushed, however dazai couldn't stop looking at you. 'you can date me' he thought to himself, but was knocked out of his trance as you dragged him away by the arm and said one final goodbye to cody, "your pathetic, cody! leaving me for a bastard who cheated on your ass as well because your a sad, cheating man who has nothing to live for besides eat and sleep all day long! at dazai has a job. you know, your right, he'll be a better boyfriend then you anyday!!"
and with that tou left the weeping man alone with his friends awkwardly standing there, giggling at the incounter that has happened.
as you and dazai got further away, you stopped and sighed. "i'm sorry dazai, that was so awkward! i never thought i'd see him again!" you rubbed your face and looked at the floor, but dazai chuckled and made you look at him.
"it's quite alright, y/n, but...when did you two break up? not that it's any of my buisness, but i had no idea you were even dating!?"
"you seem surprise, you believe a women like me can't pull a lover?"
he froze, "oh-n-no! not at all, i just- you know i just- well you never told-"
you rolled your eyes and punched his arm; "dude i'm kidding!!"
he chuckled, a couple minutes later the two of you decided to walk back home, however he offered to walk you home.
as the lights in yokohama lit up, the moon as set and the streets were quiet.
there was a calm silence as you both walked, the sound of dazais clicking heels caused you to always side eye him and smile. he's never walked you home like this before, he was always so talkative and have something to say.
"did you mean what you said, earlier today?"
ah.
there it was.
"you mean.."
"yeah.."
you smiled to yourself, looking at the floor as you stopped in front of your apartment. "of course i did, i'm sure you would try your hardest to be with the person you love, better then cody!!" you smiled, giving him a hug and waving goodbye.
"bye, dazai! see you at work tomorrow, I better not have to call you again so you won't be late!!" you waved, walking into your apartment.
"goodbye, y/n!" he waved, watching as you entered your apartment and your figure left.
"i love you..."
@justcallmesakira @atsquie @atlasnessie @riiwrites @ruanais @silverbladexyz @pinklacydovey @iisowks @haithamvoid-deactivated20240128
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ltbarnes · 3 months
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‘Tis the Damn Season
Stark U #6
Summary: It’s Christmas Eve, you’re too drunk, you’ve basically avoided Bucky and Steve for six months and the last person you’d want to meet at this party just happens to be yelling in your face. The panic attack is inevitable, really.
Pairing: college!Steve Rogers x reader, college!Bucky Barnes x reader, college!Sam Wilson x reader, college!Natasha Romanoff x reader
Word count: 7.8k
Warnings: so much angst, past SA, alcohol, talk about violence, Christmas celebrations, things finally start to happen, kissing :)
A/N: Happy holidays to anyone who celebrates and to those who don’t, I hope you have a good few days anyways <3 This is the first I’ve posted since July which is awful of me so sorry
Series Masterlist
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You didn't see them all summer. The day after your last exam was over, you bolted back to your hometown and spent the entire summer selectively ignoring messages from Bucky and Natasha and Steve and Sam asking what you were doing and how your summer was going and maybe you could all meet up and go somewhere and—
It's December now, and every goddamn day since June you have been trying to figure out if what Bucky said to you when you were sick was a fever-induced hallucination or if he really, actually, said that he wanted you to take his last name someday. It made you panic, because the entire spring term you tried to convince yourself that your feelings towards them were batshit crazy and any inkling to them feeling the same was a delusional reach, grasping for crumbs that in reality were just friendly gestures. And then he says that.
"She's just practicing her future last name, Stevie."
So, yeah...things have been weird. Three months have passed since classes started and none of you want to mention what happened right before summer break. Actually, with each day passing you feel more like maybe it was just a hallucination or a very vivid dream, because both Bucky and Steve act like it never even happened. Bucky even had his mouth latched onto some blonde sophomore at a dumb, stupid frat party on Halloween. You went home right after and cried for two hours. But it's not hard to conclude that even if there was some spark or connection or anything beyond friendship with either of them before summer, it has died out completely.
The subject will probably never be broached. You're too scared of confrontation and definitely too scared of revealing unreciprocated feelings for that to happen. The slightly tense atmosphere in the loft is entirely your fault—your lack of communication with anyone in the group during the summer has made them a little confused, you guess. You mostly spend time in your room, giving excuses of studying and talking with parents on the phone and 'I'm just tired, sorry'.
Spending too much time with Natasha scares you too, because she reads you so well and you don't want her to know how hurt and unhappily in love you are. She'll try to do something about it and then Steve and Bucky will catch on and then you will end up rejected and labeled as crazy, because who the fuck falls in love with two people?
That doesn't mean you've managed to avoid her. Living in the same apartment as her definitely makes that hard, but just the fact that she won't let you makes it impossible. Last week she even broke into your room when you had it locked, because apparently she knows how to pick a lock open in under ten seconds. She absolutely knows something is off, but so far she hasn't brought it up.
Natasha is the sole reason why you're now standing in the backyard of some rich kid's house just off campus, surrounded by smoke from cheap cigarettes and fairy lights hung up between the trees and one too many shots of vodka in your blood. It's December utterly and thoroughly—there's snow on the ground but people still haven't accepted the fact that wearing their short dresses and tank tops without jackets does not work anymore. Ice drops hangs from the tree where you stand, listening to Natasha talk with a drunken girl looking for her phone.
It's fun, sure. Not the worst party you've been to and not the best either. You talked to the girl you've been sitting next to in History class earlier for almost twenty minutes. Got free vodka. It's Friday and you don't have any exams to study for. None of that makes you forget that things aren't the same.
"Nat. Nat." You poke her shoulder repeatedly, obnoxiously probably, until she glances over her shoulder with a slight glare.
"What is it?"
"I'm gonna get 'nother drink. Inside," you tell her, pointing with your thumb towards a hedge even though it was meant to be the door. Natasha seems to understand anyway.
"Okay. Don't wander off too long. And come back here right after."
"Yes, ma'am." You give her a half-assed salute before turning around, swaying slightly in your step. It's the uneven and slippery surface of the snow-covered ground, you tell yourself.
There's a lot of people here, is what you note as you push yourself through the seemingly endless crowds of the living room. You kind of hate that they haven't played a single song you like and if Steve was here he would agree, because he doesn't listen to any music made after the internet was born. Bucky would then make fun of Steve and you would laugh and everything would be right in the world. Instead you're pressed to kitchen drawers of a dark kitchen, cheap vodka mixed with soda running down your throat.
The kitchen is crowded too, but either way it's a respite from whatever the hell's going on in the living room. Jumping up and down and calling it dancing (you were doing the same the hour before). You're too drunk to be miserable about everything happening in your life this entire term and much too drunk to feel the absolute atrocious taste of your drink.
In half an hour you will probably throw up and tomorrow will be spent nursing a horrible hangover, but those consequences seem insignificant right now. You just keep thinking about the image of Bucky shoving his tongue down someone's throat that wasn't yours. It was heartbreaking. That he's not here is a good thing, because you'd either witness the same thing again or actually bring it up to him, and that's much worse. God knows it's only a matter of time before Steve does the same thing.
Someone pushes into you, forcing the liquid from your cup to spill from the confines of the red plastic onto your dress. It's black, so it doesn't really matter, but the alcohol still seeps through the fabric until it reaches your skin.
"Shit, fuck—"
Your hand tries to somehow dry your dress by fanning the fabric, which obviously doesn't help very much, and the paper towels placed on the counter in front of you escape your drunken mind completely.
Fresh air and icy winter winds are the only options, so you push through and stumble into people on your way outside. It takes a lot longer than it should. You can't really see much considering the dizziness and darkness inside, but somehow, magically, you are eventually dragging your way towards Natasha who stands in the same place as before.
"Nat. Natty—I spilled. Look."
The black dress with the now wet patch is lifted towards her by your hands, highlighted for her to see. You sway as you tell her.
"Jesus, you can barely stand straight," Natasha answers with a stabling hand to your shoulder, shaking her head to herself instead of focusing on the very urgent fact that you spilled on yourself.
Natasha turns to the girl she's talking to, saying something you can't bother to decipher, before stepping aside with a guiding arm around you.
"We gotta get you home before you embarrass yourself for real," she mumbles underneath her breath.
"I heard that," you whisper, a loud hiccup following. Whoops.
She rolls her eyes, fishing her phone up from her pocket.
"Who—who you writing? To?" you ask, slightly aware that your sentences lack correct structure but not really caring. As long as the message comes across, right?
"I'm texting Steve. I can't drive and you sure as hell can't."
Even in your state, panic instantly sets in over the mention of his name even though you live in the same goddamn apartment.
"Nooo. No Steve."
Your hand grasps for her phone. Nat pulls it away from your reach much quicker than you can comprehend.
"Yes Steve. You're a mess and he's the only one with the patience to take care of this level of drunk. I don't care that you're avoiding them for some stupid goddamn reason," she tells you.
"Nat," you whine. "He can't see me. I spilled!"
She just glares at you. "I swear to god, Y/n...nobody cares that you spilled your drink. I can't even see it."
"I'm so drunk!"
"Yeah, I know. Just—just stay here, okay? I'm going to get you some water so you can sober up by the time your precious Steve comes for us."
Natasha is heading inside before you can process her words. Waiting in place for a few minutes turns into an eternity in your mind. She should know better than to leave you unattended and then expect you to stay—really, it's her own fault. You will accept no blame if Nat gets mad at you for going inside again. It's cold and you need to go to the bathroom. Also, you're mad at her. Telling Steve to come get you? That's just...embarrassing.
Once again you're shouldering your way past people on about the same level of intoxication as you. There's a bad remix of a Christmas song playing loudly. Makes you wanna punch whoever's phone is connected to the speaker. The bathroom is so, so far away. It's something the architect of this house should've thought of before he put it at the very end of this long hallway you're currently making your way through, but clearly he didn't have you in mind.
"Fuck! Watch where you're going, asshole," some girl seethes at you as your shoulder nudges against hers. A nudge is an exaggeration—you brushed against it at most. She's probably an aggressive drunk, that's all.
You don't answer, instead fumbling for the door handle to what you believe might be the bathroom. Some couple is making out in here, the girl with her ass planted on the edge of the bathtub and the guy nearly devouring her face. Doesn't look very pleasant, if you're honest.
"Out. I need to pee."
Your hands find their way to their shoulders, ushering the lovesick pair out of the room without much protest from either of them. They're still making out as they walk out.
Despite your less than sober state, you manage to remember to lock the door after they leave. Some of the mascara that previously inhabited your lashes has moved down to rest under your eyes. You rub it away, smudging it slightly, but it just makes you look a little more like one of those cool girls you always see on campus. It will do.
You kind of want to throw up, but decide against it. That hasn't happened since you were a freshman, and you'd like to keep it that way. Staring at yourself in the mirror occupies your time in the bathroom instead, swaying slightly with your hands placed on the cold sink. If Steve saw you now he would be so disappointed. At least you imagine he would be—that fatherly look on his face as he tells you how you need to be more mindful with your alcohol consumption. Did you even watch who poured your drink? Never go anywhere alone at a party. Especially not a frat one. You know better than this, Y/n.
Steve's imaginary voice is interrupted by someone banging on the door, shouting for you to hurry the fuck up. It's been over ten minutes, but to you it just feels like three, and Natasha has been looking for you ever since she returned to the garden with a glass of water in her hand and no one to give it to. It's not her banging on the door, unfortunately, but instead a dickhead guy who has no patience. Can't a girl spend some time alone in the bathroom doing nothing anymore?
The guy glares at you as you push the door open, stumbling out into the crowded hallway while paying him no mind. It's dark save for the red LED-lights plastered on the walls, making it feel like a seedy dive bar instead of a seedy house. You don't see much.
"Hey! Hey, you—the girl with the black dress!"
Someone pushes their way past the people talking and making out and leaning against the walls, shoving through them as he searches for your attention. Of course, you don't really think it's you he's after. Half of the people at this party are wearing black dresses.
A clammy hand finds purchase on your shoulder, halting you in your less than gracious steps and turning you around with ease. Head tilted back, gaze running upwards until they settle on the face of a quite attractive guy. He doesn't look pretty happy to see you. You're not very happy to see him either.
The blood drains from your face, stealing away all that alcohol-induced heat within a second as his curly hair and green eyes look down at you with that same contempt he had when Sam dragged him away from the kitchen almost a year ago. You had hoped you never had to see him again. It was a naive thing to wish for.
"Y/n, right?" he asks bitterly. You don't answer, but he takes your silence as a yes. It was probably a rhetorical question anyway. His slightly crooked nose was perfectly straight the last time you saw him. His face is committed to your memory, burned in to taunt you on sleepless nights and everytime an unknown man walks a little too closely when you're out alone. "Your little boyfriend broke my fucking nose. You know that?"
Another rhetorical question. Definitely more threatening. Might be the tight grip he has on your arm too. Either way, his mere presence has apparently stripped away your ability to breathe normally. It feels like you've been running to the point of nausea, dark spots dancing before your eyes as he shakes you in attempt to get an answer.
"You ruined my fucking reputation. For what? I barely touched you. Such a sensitive fucking bitch, going around telling everyone that..." His voice trails off, ushering you into a quiet corner when he realizes people are staring. "Got nothing to say now, huh? Been so good at running your fucking mouth before, haven't you?"
"Let me go," you whisper, voice wavering. You don't sound assertive at all, instead weak and fearful. It's what you feel, as an upbeat, slightly bad cover rendition of "All I Want For Christmas" booms through the house. Girls shrieking in excitement over in the living room reaches your ears. You would have joined them if you weren't currently cornered by the guy who assaulted you in your own kitchen a year ago.
"No, we're going to fucking talk. What the fuck were you doing, going around saying shit like that about me to everyone?"
"I...I didn't..." Your lips part between words, breathing out shakily, trying to articulate sentences long enough to make sense. Why can't you speak? Why can't you even think?
"You didn't what?" he seethes. "You're such a fucking bitch, you know that? Acts all innocent and hides behind her friends. My nose is fucking crooked forever because of that fuckhead you sent after me."
Is it the alcohol that renders you this goddamn useless? There's just tears springing to your eyes, unable to say anything in defense of yourself. Can't even walk away.
He pushes you against the wall, knocking the breath out of you. To other people it probably looks like you're hooking up. At least that's what you hope they think, because otherwise you want to wonder why no one is intervening.
"Joshua, please let me go," you tell him again, even more pathetic this time. You're crying now, curled in on yourself in attempt to make yourself as small as possible.
"Fuck, you're so—"
"She told you to let her go."
The assertive, familiar tone booms through the hallway. It doesn't really, can probably only be heard by the people around you, but it feels like it when Steve's tall figure pushes through with hasty steps towards where you and Joshua stand, followed by a glaring Bucky with his jaw clenched so fucking tightly. A sob of relief is drawn from your lips, muffled by the back of your hand.
Joshua steps back instantly. Kind of funny to think that he's so scared of those two, and sad to think that he only respects a 'no' when it comes from men.
"Nice nose job," Bucky speaks up, pointing at his own nose as he stares at Joshua's crooked one, courtesy of the damn good punch he managed to land with his left fist all those months ago.
"Fuck you," Joshua growls, taking a step forward in attempt to appear more threatening or something. He doesn't really succeed—both Bucky and Steve towers over him in both length and build, unrelenting in their stance. As if they're stone walls keeping out the enemy.
Steve rolls his his eyes, shaking his head with a sigh. "Just get out of here. Don't go near her ever again, you hear me? Bucky's glad to fix your nose otherwise. Break it right back. Can't promise the result will be very good, though."
Bucky stands slightly behind Steve, raising an eyebrow in Joshua's direction that tells him there's not even a trace of a lie in the blonde giant's statement.
"You—fuck this." Joshua throws his hands in the air, aiming the most distasteful glare over his shoulder in your direction, before pushing past Steve and Bucky with a shove.
Your body instantly deflates, the tension melting off your limbs as you close your eyes and lean back against the wall. Gentle, firm hands instantly reach your cheeks, your arms, searching for any trace Joshua might have left behind on your body.
"Hey, hey. Y/n, are you okay? Did he touch you? Sweetheart, look at me."
Bucky's voice draws you out of the anxious, panicked state you slipped into, fluttering your eyelids open to see his worried frown and an equally worried Steve looming behind him. Wet cheeks and red-rimmed eyes greet them, pupils dilated from the alcohol.
"Y/n, are you hurt? How long have you two been talking?" Steve adds, looming over you in such a way that his large frame blocks out any of the colorful lights plastered on the walls.
They already know you're drunk—Natasha was the one to call them here to get you, after all. Maybe your silence and obvious intoxication makes it clear to them after a couple of seconds that an answer from you is a few minutes away, a few miles of distance from this foggy, packed house. Nothing more is said or requested from you. Instead your trembling form is led away and out into the biting cold by gentle hands belonging to your friends. Even your slight shock can't shield you from freezing your ass off as soon as you get out into the fresh air again, teeth beginning to chatter within the second step on tightly packed snow.
"What the—where the hell have you been? I swear to god, Y/n, I was gone for two minutes! I've been looking for you everywhere!" an angry Natasha yells, running perfectly towards the three of you down the slippery lawn to where Steve is currently helping you into the backseat of his car.
"Nat," Steve says, giving her a pleading look that silently tells her it's not the time for a scolding.
"What? I told her to stay put when I went to get her a glass of water and she just disappeared out of nowhere. Slippery motherfucker while drunk, I swear she'll be the death of me—"
"Nat," he repeats, sternly this time. In that tone only he masters, silencing even the most eager tongues with a single exhale. "She met Joshua. And she's not okay. So please, leave your yelling for tomorrow and get in the car."
Steve holds the passenger door open, gesturing for the seat beside Bucky. He's turning the key, letting the car warm up properly while he clutches the wheel tightly. Natasha's irritated frown turns into a concerned one, nodding silently before slipping inside. Steve closes the door shut behind her.
You lean your head against the frost-covered window, fogged up by your breath two inches away from it, and close your eyes. Steve leans over you, reaching for the belt and fastens it over your torso. You forgot. He never does.
It's no surprise, doesn't startle you despite your absentminded state, when his warm hand cups your cheek, turns your head to face him. Soft, blue gaze and ridiculously long lashes. It's nothing but contrasting against the clouds released from your mouths with each breath—warm, concerned...loving? Maybe.
"Are you okay?" he whispers, thumb rubbing over your cheek.
You nod. "Yes. I am now."
Bucky puts his foot on the gas, turns on the blinker, and pulls away from the curb, out onto the streets. It's nearly soundless. The usual rumble from wheels against road is cushioned by the snow.
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"This was a mistake. Sorry, I can't—" Sam gags, moving his head out of the bathroom before returning his presence within a few seconds. "You're a real shitty guard, Nat. Why'd you let her drink this much?"
All four of your roommates are gathered in the bathroom, surrounding you as if you're a newly born lion cub in a zoo, while you puke your guts out into the toilet. Steve is kneeling on the floor beside you, a comforting hand rubbing your back, while Bucky sits a few feet away with a glass of water in hand, ready for whenever you need it.
"Fuck you. You weren't there—she was like a goddamn ghost, just slipping away everytime I blinked. Looked fucking everywhere for her. 'S not my fault," Nat answers, residing on the floor of the shower in lack of space.
"Not true," you murmur in answer, your voice echoing off the ceramic surrounding you.
You're pretty much done throwing up, it's just the exhaustion following that's keeping you slumped over on the bathroom tile. Your hand stretches out in Bucky's direction, reaching for the glass of water that's gulped down within a few seconds.
"Careful. Gonna get sick again if you do it this fast," Bucky says, unable to help himself from brushing away the stray drops of water running down your chin.
The gesture is nothing new from him. He did it when you were sick all those months ago too, and you haven't forgotten it at all. His thumb gently rubbing over your skin as if you're precious, something deserving of gentleness, is engraved into your mind. You're thankful for getting most of the alcohol out of your system, because you might not have remembered this moment in the morning if not. Fuck it if you forgot the way his pupils widen just slightly, as if he didn't mean to, as if he couldn't help himself.
"I'm fine," you whisper in answer, clearing your throat. "Got it all out."
"Good." Steve's hand moves up from your back to your head, stroking it for just a second before withdrawing his touch. "Let's get you to the couch."
"I don't wanna go to the couch. Wanna be in my bed." You're pouting. Maybe there is some trace of alcohol left in you.
"Steve and Buck will feel much less like creepy stalkers if they stare at you sleeping on the couch instead of hovering around your bedroom all night like a bunch of pervs," Natasha speaks up. A snort follows after, as if it was a joke and not a statement. Definitely tipsy too, despite unwilling to admit such a weakness.
Steve raises a reprimanding eyebrow Natasha's way, telling her to shut her mouth with just his gaze. She smirks in answer.
"Don't listen to her. A fucking liar," Bucky remarks, but there's still some form of amusement in his expression. He can't even deny the statement—he is going to watch over you. Doesn't really matter if it's in the living room or in your bedroom. "Now let's get you up. C'mon."
With a push from your arms against the cold tile, you're standing on two legs again. Steve is hovering his hand near your back, ready to support if the vodka decides to topple you over. But you're fine—just tired now.
For ten minutes it feels things are back to normal again. On the living room couch, nestled in between them, your head leaning on Steve's shoulder as a stupid Hallmark Christmas movie plays on the tv. Sam and Natasha are in their rooms sleeping, and for a few moments you forget why you kept your distance. Everything would have been good if this is how the night would end. If Steve didn't have to address the past six months.
"I've missed this. With us," Steve whispers as he strokes your shoulder absentmindedly, like it's second nature to him to have his hands on your skin. "You've been so distant lately. For months, Y/n."
The room instantly becomes tense enough to make you nauseous. A clearing of your throat, an attempt to sit up out of Steve's hold and away from this conversation that you'd much rather avoid is futile—it's instantly stopped by Bucky's hand on your chest that pushes you right back.
"No," he says sternly. "You're gonna sit right here, sweetheart, and tell us why you've barely let us see you since fall term started. 'Cause it's sure as fuck not something I take lightly. Why have you avoided us?"
You look away, shaking your head to yourself as you try to talk yourself down. You will not break. You will not confess a single thing. You are going to act like everything is fine and you are not currently freaking out being sandwiched between the only two men you would gladly be sandwiched between under different circumstances than this.
"What are you even talking about?" you answer meekly. It's clear as soon as the words come out of your mouth that no one is falling for your innocent act, not even sweet, naive Steve. Then again, you're doing a particularly bad job. "Both of you think I've been distant?"
"Cut the bullshit, Y/n. If we've done something wrong, just say so." Bucky bites his cheek, glancing down for just a second, but it's enough to let his vulnerability slip. He's hurt.
A wave of guilt instantly washes over your body, an unusual feeling. During all these months of avoiding any interaction with Bucky and Steve besides the necessary ones, you didn't think that they'd actually mind your absence that much. They might not be hopelessly in love with you like you are with them, but they're still your friends. Friends miss each other.
"Or if it's something personal, you can tell us, you know? Is it anxiety, or are you feeling generally low, or...?" Steve chips in, trying to drown out Bucky's accusatory tone.
"No, no...I'm not depressed, Steve. And none of you have done anything wrong, I promise," you say hastily, shutting down their concerns as quickly as possible while trying to buy yourself time to come up with an excuse. "I just...needed some alone time."
Bucky rolls his eyes, shaking his head. Sassy man. "Bullshit again. You've spent a bunch of time with Natasha. Sam, too. It's us you're avoiding." He points to himself and Steve with his hand. "It's been almost six months, Y/n. What the hell's your problem?" He pushes himself off the couch, standing up and blocking your view of the tv. It's as if his frustration is all contained while sitting down.
"Bucky," Steve scolds, glaring up at his friend. He's not appreciating the tone at all, that's for sure.
"There's no problem, Bucky," you tell him, shaking your head. Trying to dismiss this entire conversation before you reveal too much.
"No! Y/n, I'm going fucking crazy! This is the first time you've even let me touch you in half a year!" Bucky yells, a pleading tone in his voice that breaks your heart just a little. Because it's true. You have barely even hugged since June. You've barely talked for more than five minutes at a time.
"Don't yell at her, for god's sake, Bucky," Steve adds, his hands on your shoulders and ready to get up from the couch any second.
"What the hell's going on with you, huh?!" Bucky continues, ignoring Steve's statement. His eyes are solely focused on you, void of the usual softness. There's just anger. "Cause if you can't stand us, then tough fucking luck. I can have your fucking things moved out by tomorrow for all I care. Can move right into Walker's dorm. Bet he'd accept you with open fucking arms if you get to your knees and—“
The drop of your heart down to your stomach can almost be heard, an echoing, hollow sound. You're sure of it. Bucky shuts his mouth, as if he realizes what exactly was about to come out of it. What is not even a second of silence feels like a whole minute, before Steve shoots up from his seat beside you and grabs Bucky by the collar, rattling the whole room with the force in which he nearly tackles Bucky against the wall with. The tangy taste of iron starts to fill your mouth, your teeth biting down on your lip hard enough to draw blood. There's tears lingering in your eyes but you can't hold them back, not anymore.
"You don't fucking talk to her like that, you bast—"
"I love you! It’s ‘cause I fucking love you guys!” you yell, a pathetic sob marring the words. “So I’m fucking sorry that I’ve avoided you two but I’m trying to get over these goddamn—these feelings, but I can’t, okay! I can’t!”
The bitter delivery is punctuated by the sleeve of your sweater wiping away the tears furiously, cutting Steve off and drawing both of their wild eyes towards your figure now standing up, just a minute away from a complete breakdown. You don't even process the fact that Steve cursed. It would've been teased about endlessly in any other situation.
"I will go. I'll leave if that's what you want," you seethe with a voice so unsteady that it's almost unbearable to listen to. "But I don’t hate any of you. I don’t, and I get why you’re mad. But fuck you, Bucky. Fuck you for saying that.”
More tears fall. It's futile to wipe them away when they'll be replaced the second after. You want to say more, hit Bucky where it hurts, but you cannot get the goddamn words to form on your lips. Opening your mouth and closing it again, shaking your head, comes before hastily walking towards your room and locking yourself inside without giving them a chance to answer.
As soon as the door is slammed shut, your hand comes up to your mouth to muffle the sobs. Sinking down to the floor as if you’re in a movie, forehead resting against your knees. The rate of your heartbeats could be considered dangerously high, but you just blurted out a whole love confession for two of your roommates in the midst of a fight. How the hell could everything turn to shit so quickly? Half an hour ago all of you were joking around in the bathroom, and now you're not sure you have the courage to face any of them again.
It's a rash, impulsive decision fueled by anger and betrayal and shame, but you rush over to your closet and pull out an overnight bag that's soon filled to the brim with enough things to last you a few days. You're crying the entire time.
When you pass the living room again, Bucky isn't there anymore. But Steve is. Barely a glance his way is spared, with hasty steps heading towards the hallway. You remind yourself of a furious toddler when you angrily put on your jacket, stick your feet into your winter boots. The bag is slung over your shoulder, hand resting on the door handle.
"Don't go. Y/n, please don't leave."
Steve stands at the other side of the hallway, a broken down expression on his pretty face.
"Bucky went out of line, but he didn't mean it, I swear. He's just too prideful to admit it," he continues. You shake your head, biting down on your bottom lip. "Please, honey. It’s Christmas Eve. It won’t be the same if you’re not here tomorrow.”
"I just need some space," you whisper, brushing away a stray tear with the sleeve of your jacket. You’re so embarrassed and hurt that you can barely look him in the eye. "I can't be in the same apartment as him right now."
Steve sighs, looking about ready to just throw you over his shoulder to get you to stay. But he won't do that. That's not Steve. So instead he glances down to the floor, shaking his head to himself.
“Did you mean it?” he asks softly. “The thing about—you said you loved us. Did you mean it?”
It takes a few seconds before you nod tentatively, sniffling and keeping your gaze on a spot past Steve. He doesn’t say anything.
Steve gathers courage enough to walk up to where you stand by the door, grabbing your cheeks with his hands, thumb running over the tear-stained skin gently. For a few moments, he just looks at you. Loud thoughts running amok in that perfect head of his.
“Nothing I say right now will do my feelings any justice, so I’m gonna save any big speeches for tomorrow. But just…stay. It’s 2 am, it’s freezing out and you’re still drunk. I don’t want you out there on the streets alone. I need you to stay, even if it’s only for your own safety. Don’t have to talk to any of us if you don’t want to.”
His words makes you nod automatically. All it took was his hands on your skin and the flicker of hope his words ignite in your chest, and you conceded within a second. No hesitation left in that exhausted body of yours. He‘s not saying outright that your feelings are requited, but it doesn’t feel like a rejection either. He doesn’t seem disgusted by your confession, by the knowledge that you’re in love with both him and his best friend.
“Good girl. Let’s just—let’s get you to bed, okay?”Steve tells you, squeezing your shoulder gently. With your confirmation in form of another silent nod, he nestles the bag out of your grip and takes off the jacket from your torso.
The bed feels so soft and warm and comforting when you lie down. Steve tucks you in. It’s achingly sweet and you don’t really deserve it after avoiding him and Bucky like that for so long, but he looks out for you nonetheless.
“Steve,” you whisper, drawing his gaze up to meet yours. “I’m sorry. For being so distant.”
He shakes his head. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You were scared,” Steve answers. “Don’t worry about anything, okay? Get some sleep. You’ve had a tough night, Y/n.”
The softest of smiles grazes your lips, puppy eyes gazing up at Steve. Your wonderful, caring, perfect Steve.
“Are you alright? It must’ve been hard meeting Joshua again. And what Bucky said, it…it was far from okay.”
“I will be,” you whisper.
He nods, observes your face for a few seconds. Leans down to press a kiss to your forehead—what kind of college guy even does that? And then he leaves the room, turning the light off behind him.
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You’re woken up by a red headed, crazy woman sitting on top of you over the sheets, shaking your shoulders.
“Wake up, fuckhead. You’re gonna open the presents I got you,” Natasha urges, grinning down at you as you blink your eyes open, groaning.
“Fuckhead?” you ask, a tired chuckle from your lips as Natasha climbs off the bed.
“Yes. Don’t like it, huh?” she teases. “C’mon. The guys are already waiting.”
With slow steps and a loud yawn, the slightest trace of a hangover plaguing your body, you drag yourself out into the living room. Around the ugly, little tree that Sam insisted on cutting down from the campus gardens last week (he almost got arrested by the security guards) the three boys sit. Your gaze falls to the floor, scratching the skin right above your lip nervously, once Bucky looks up at you. Can’t really read his expression, but you figure you’ll lay the fight aside for the day. It’s Christmas, after all.
“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” Steve says, urging you to sit down next to him right there on the carpet. You offer a soft smile, and an even softer ‘Merry Christmas’ back. You’re still unsure about yesterday. Despite there being no rejection from either of them, the uncertainty is kind of killing you. A pit of anxiety rests in your stomach, an uneasy feeling corrupting every cell as you sit down on the floor next to Steve.
Not even ten minutes later, the living room is drowning in a sea of wrapping paper. Natasha went overboard with the gift shopping this year, it seems like, but her absent father is also some kind of Russian oligarch or something so she tends to use up as much of his money as she can. You’re not complaining.
The special edition of The Hobbit, signed by the director of the movie, that you managed to get on eBay and cost you a fucking fortune is received with a whispered ‘thank you’ from Bucky. He holds it in his hands tightly, staring down at the book without a word, and you don’t know if he’s happy for it. Maybe he’s not happy with anything touched by you at this moment. He hasn’t gotten you a gift, it seems like, or maybe he threw it in the trash and burned it yesterday.
Steve got you three books that he’d heard you say you wanted months ago, and a dainty silver necklace with a bee pendant hanging from it. “You know, uh, I usually call you ‘honey’ and I thought it was a little funny, maybe. But I can exchange it if you don’t like it. It’s no problem,” he had said, even though there were tears of gratitude in your eyes. Your arms were thrown around him a second later, hugging him tightly as you thanked him profusely for the most thoughtful gift.
Now you’re leaning your back against the couch, still on the floor, watching as Sam and Natasha are tinkering with his new Nintendo Switch that he got from her (overboard with the gifts, as previously mentioned). He’s so happy it almost makes you zoned out as you watch his childlike excitement. It’s nice to see the two of them so calm and sweet with each other too. Usually bickering and getting on each other’s nerves all the time otherwise.
“Y/n, can we talk?”
Your head tilts back, looking up at Bucky standing nervously in front of you, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. There’s a deep hesitation within you, a pride that wants to say no and remain in your angry state forever without confrontation. But it’s Bucky. You hate this animosity between the two of you, the tension. Despite being pissed off and hurt and afraid that he doesn’t want you, you can’t say no, so you nod and push yourself up to a stand.
Bucky closes the door to his room behind him gently, clearing his throat and looking at anything but you. A sigh comes out of his mouth, shaking his head, before he parts his lips to speak.
“I’m so sorry, Y/n. What I said was disgusting and unforgivable and so fucking out of line. You didn’t deserve that at all. So out of proportion to what I was mad at you for,” Bucky says, running the palm of his calloused hand over his face.
“It was,” you answer honestly. There’s no use in denying that what Bucky said was stupidly hurtful. He nods, looking away from your gaze.
“It made me angry thinking that you ignored me, because at first I didn’t know what I had done, you know? And then I thought for a few months that me and Steve had been too overbearing and that you tried to keep your distance because you thought we were annoying or something. But that’s not the case. I should’ve known better by now than to think that you would do anything to purposely hurt us.”
You gulp, nodding, looking down to the floor. “I’m sorry too,” you whisper. “I didn’t know that you guys thought I had something against you until last night. Obviously, you…you know now that’s not the case,” you tell him, embracing yourself with your arms. “But last night, Bucky, I…you hurt me. I know you were angry, but saying those kind of things isn’t okay.”
“I know that. God, I know, Y/n. I’m so sorry. It was fucking childish of me, retorting to saying that Jo—“ Bucky shakes his head, hands coming up to tug at the roots of his hair. “And it felt stupid giving you that present in front of everyone, so now you think I didn’t get you anything, too, and—“
“You got me a present?”
“Yes. Of course I did, Y/n. But I saw how much Natasha had bought and that necklace Steve gave you and my gift felt stupid in comparison to that. Just didn’t want to give it to you in front of everyone,” he says, a little awkwardly. A little boy giving his mother a drawing he made in kindergarten, he reminds you of.
“Bucky…that doesn’t matter. I don’t care what you have gotten me. I’ll like it no matter what if it’s from you.”
He shifts in his place, contemplating something, before picking up a sweater on his bed, revealing a wrapped present hidden underneath. Bucky took the gift from the pile without anyone noticing before, throwing it into his room so no one would see.
With a tentative hand, he reaches it out to you. Doesn’t watch as you unwrap it, instead biting on his thumbnail. You reprimand him for it, and the hand returns to his side.
“Is it a book?” You run your fingers over the cover, a hardcover with nothing on it. Blank.
“It’s a photo album. Shit, it’s stupid. I don’t know,” Bucky answers, looking about ready to snatch it back, but you open the first page up before he has a chance to.
A picture of you, Natasha, Sam and Steve on the first page. It was taken last year in November. You’re all running after one of Sam’s model planes, fall leaves singling down from the sky. It’s a beautiful picture.
“4 grown idiots running after a kid’s toy - November 12th, 2022”
“It’s just pics I’ve taken with my phone, so it’s nothing artsy or anything, but…uhm.” Bucky runs his hand through his short, brown hair.
You flip the page. You’re looking out through the kitchen window, the sun shining through and casting shadows over the room and your figure curled up on the chair.
“Angel in the sun - March 25th, 2023”
A soft chuckle is drawn from your lips, resisting the urge to run your finger over the photo, but you don’t want to smudge the blank paper. On the same page there’s another picture of you with your arms around Natasha’s shoulders, nearly wrestling her to the ground with the force of your hug. You look so happy.
Bucky looks nervous as you glance up from the photo album at him. “Know it’s not much, but…yeah.”
A loud huff of hair escapes Bucky as you throw your arms around him. It takes a second or two for him to hug you back, but he soon has his chin resting on top of your head, arms around your waist.
“I love it,” you whisper, holding onto him tightly enough to constrict his breathing.
“You do? I can take it back if you don’t like it.”
Your grip around him releases, arms coming down to your sides so you can take a step back and look him in the eyes. “This is everything, Bucky,” you say softly, feeling a lump in your throat that can turn into tears any second. “The fact that you took the time to make this for me is just…it’s the most thoughtful thing ever. And these pictures are so beautiful, Bucky, and just the thought of you sitting down and glueing them onto the page and writing captions and—“
His lips against yours. Oh god. Oh my god, Bucky has his lips pressed against yours. Gentle hands hold your jaw, his head leaning down to compensate for the height difference, and Bucky Barnes is kissing you with urgency and desperation.
The shock is enough to make you unable to return the kiss. He seems to take your surprise as rejection despite the fact that you literally yelled ‘I love you’ in his face last night. Bucky steps away and takes his hands off your skin, running his hand over his mouth, shaking his head.
“I’m so sorry, don’t know what the hell came over me, I—“
On your tiptoes, fingers grabbing his sweatshirt to pull him closer, and you nearly smash your lips against his to shut up any of that doubt he carries. It’s not a graceful or very romantic kiss, but by the sound akin to a very mild growl that comes from Bucky and his hands sliding down to your waist to pull you closer, you guess he likes it anyway.
It doesn’t last more than 20 seconds. A harsh knock on the door to Bucky’s room interrupts it, forcing you part from his lips and get down from your tiptoes again.
“What the hell are you doing in there? C’mon! I’ve made goddamn Christmas brunch!” Sam yells, drawing a soft chuckle from your lips as your forehead meets Bucky’s chest.
With a soft smile, nothing said, you back away from Bucky. Slipping out of his room and leaving him there all flustered and semi-hard from a 20 second make-out session. The first ever between you, though. He thinks it’s pretty understandable.
As Bucky follows you into the kitchen, sitting down at the table by Steve, he leans towards his best friend and whispers into his ear low enough to make anyone else unable to hear.
“I kissed her, Stevie,” Bucky says with a shit eating grin on his face. “I finally fucking kissed her.”
The blond man turns his head enough to look over at Bucky, the red flush of his cheeks and ears enough to tell anyone what’s been said.
“Are you serious?” Steve asks.
“I kissed her and she kissed me back, I swear. I gave her that photo album I’ve worked on for weeks. She said she loved it, Steve.”
“I guess it’s my turn then, isn’t it?” Steve answers, a shy smile on his lips as the two of them watch you sit down opposite of them at the table, glancing through the window out at the heavy snowfall. Natasha puts a newly toasted bagel on your plate.
“Go get our girl, Stevie.”
191 notes · View notes
yeonzzzn · 4 months
Text
☕️beside you: niki
a you complete me series: two / seven
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pairing: niki x afab!reader
word count: 1.5k
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synopsis: luckily niki’s birthday fell on a saturday and with the help of the pack you made his birthday morning special
genre: established relationship, vampire!niki, vampire!reader
warnings: mentions of blood, cutie pie birthday boy niki ♡
p1: vampires bleeding mlist
☾ sunghoon(1) | niki(2) | heeseung(3) | jungwon(4) | jake(5) | jay(6) | sunoo(7) ☽
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You spent weeks trying to make Niki’s birthday perfect. 
You bothered the boys nonstop about perfect gifts or things to do for him and with him. 
The boys gave you plenty of ideas, and they were so perfect. 
Until the day before his birthday, a snowstorm pulled in. 
You blamed Sunghoon, for being the ice vampire prince that he was. Mr. Penguin in his past life as his mate calls him. 
The school was even canceled Friday morning. Which obviously Niki and you were happy about. 
But then all your plans went out the window. 
“Jay! I don’t know what to do!” you whispered into the phone, peeking around the living room making sure Niki’s eyes and ears were still glued to the video game on the television, “Everything closed down.” 
Jay sighed on the other end of the phone, “What does Heeseung say?” 
You shrugged your shoulders as if Jay could see it, “What even would Heeseung be able to do?” 
“You both live with him,” Jay scoffed, “Did you even think to see what Heeseung could help plan?” 
You rolled your eyes, “Heeseung has been at the hospital all day, and __ is stuck at the hospital with him because of the storm.” 
Even with Jay’s silence, you could hear his annoyance through the phone. 
“I could bake him a cake?” Jay finally said, “I can bake it now and sneak it over there tonight.”
Your eyes brightened, “Please! Jay, thank you so much!” 
“Yeah yeah,” he groaned, you could hear his face dropping into his hands, “I’ll call Heeseung and let him know too.” 
You thanked him again and ended the call. 
Out of the side of his eye, Niki saw you walking back into the living room. 
He smiled wide, pushing the right side of his headset off his ear, leaning into the corner of the couch, and patting the space between his legs. 
You sat between his legs, leaning your back against his chest. Niki rested his hands on your lap, fingers button smashing on the controller. 
“Where did you run off to?” Niki asked, resting his head against yours. 
“Missed me that much already?” you teased him. 
Niki chuckled, “I always miss you when you aren’t beside me.” 
“I just went to call Heeseung,” you lied, “I wanted to make sure they were okay at the hospital due to this storm.” 
Niki shrugged, not having any thoughts or worries, “Hyung and __ are vampires, a little snow won’t hurt.” 
You shrugged. 
“I bet Sunghoon Hyung is having the time of his life.” 
You agreed, “Want to watch a movie?” 
Not even ten minutes into the movie Niki was slumped on the couch and passed out. Which was what you were hoping for. 
You kept checking outside, moving the blinds every few minutes to see when Jay would appear with the cake. 
Almost fifteen minutes passed before Jay walked up the steps of the apartment complex and to your door. 
You quietly opened it, placing your finger to your lips, “He’s asleep on the couch,” 
Jay nodded, carefully slipping in with Heeseung and __ following behind him. 
“Jeez, that snow is terrible,” Heeseung whispered, sliding his coat off his body and onto the coat rack. 
“Welcome home my king and queen,” you teased them, earning glares from not just Heeseung and his mate, but also from Jay. 
“I said you don’t have to call us that,” Heeseung sighed, sitting down at the kitchen table, “We aren’t even fully oathed.” 
Jay placed Niki’s cake in the fridge, pointing at it and then at Niki, basically saying to not let him get into the fridge. 
Jay also sat at the table, wrapping his arms together, “Maybe you should go take the oath,” he said looking between the king and queen, “Now that you have a mate.” 
Heeseung shrugged, “I’ll think about it,” he looked over at the sleeping Niki, “What’s the plan for tomorrow?”
You snuck out of your room, the smell of coffee filling the apartment. 
You tipped toe to Niki’s room, carefully opening the door, and seeing him still asleep. After closing the door gently, you carefully walked into the kitchen. 
Heeseung was brewing the coffee while __ was setting up the table. 
“We can take the cake out in a few minutes,” she said, “Once Heeseung finishes the coffee we will pull the cake out.” 
You nodded, grabbing four blood bags from the fridge and setting them down on the table, “He might wake up soon, so we have to hurry.” 
She finished putting the plates, utensils, and napkins on the table beside everyone’s blood bags. Heeseung placed the cake in the middle, placing the candles on the top. 
“I think it’s time to wake him up ourselves,” Heeseung whispered, “If he already woke up he isn’t going to come out since it’s Saturday.” 
You nodded, “Light the candles then, I’ll go get him.” 
You carefully opened his door, Niki was still very much asleep. 
You slowly walked to his bed, sitting down on the edge, “Wake up, cutie pie.” you softly spoke, tapping your mate's shoulder. 
Niki’s eyes fluttered open, a small smile forming on his face, “Good morning,” 
“Good morning, sweetheart.”
Niki sat up in bed, stretching his arms out before pulling you close to him, “Let’s go back to sleep.” 
“Oh no no no,” you place your hands on his shoulders, pushing yourself back, “It’s time to get up.” 
Niki narrowed his eyes at you, he knew you were up to something, “What are you planning?” 
You bat your eyes at him, “Me? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 
You could tell by the look in his eyes that he didn’t believe you. 
Niki wasn’t stupid. It’s his birthday today, there’s no way you didn’t have anything planned for him. 
But he knew if he didn’t get up now, his hyung would be marching in here himself. 
“Okay,” he said, cupping your face with his hands, “You’re up to something, Y/N, I can feel it.”
You rolled your eyes at him, “Just get up and get dressed. Brush your teeth too!” 
Niki giggled, placing a soft kiss on your nose before he kicked you out of his room so he could change. 
Niki walked out of the bathroom, after freshening up. 
The apartment was dark, only the light from the windows came through. 
He walked down the hall, to turn the corner to see you, Heeseung, and __ standing by the table with the light from the candles brightening the room. 
A happy birthday banner hung on the wall, with a few red, yellow, and blue balloons. 
Niki couldn’t wipe the smile from his face. How could he possibly even fight it? His loved ones were standing in front of him, celebrating his day. 
They sang to him, causing Niki to hide his face in his hands. 
You rushed him over to the table, “Make a wish, baby.” 
Niki blew the candles out, the room falling darker but the sounds of his family cheering and clapping filled the darkness. 
Once the lights were turned on, everyone sat at the table. 
Heeseung cut the pancake-flavored cake, which was perfect for a breakfast food item for today, and passed a piece to everyone along with their coffee. 
Even though vampires don’t need food, it was fun to enjoy it now and then. 
Niki sipped on his blood bag, looking between his hyung, his mate, and you. His heart raced faster from the happiness he was feeling. 
One by one, the rest of the members of the pack called and wished him a happy birthday. 
Jake: “Happy birthday mate! Here’s to many more brother!”
Jake’s mate: “Enjoy your day little brother! Don’t cause too much chaos!”
Sunghoon: “Damn you’re getting older…but I am glad I share my birthday with you.” 
Sunghoon’s mate: “You’ve grown a lot since we met, even with you being stuck at seventeen, you’re still growing older and wiser by the day. Happy birthday!” 
Jungwon & his mate: “YOI!!! Happy birthday!!” 
Jay: “Happy birthday little bro, enjoy the cake I baked for you.” 
Jay’s mate: “Make sure to make plenty of birthday wishes and continue to raise hell! Happy birthday, Niki!” 
The smile on Niki’s face wouldn’t leave, he could feel the muscles in his face getting sore from how much he was smiling and laughing. 
You eventually leaned your head on his shoulder, snuggling close to him, “I am sorry your birthday couldn’t have been celebrated more. The snowstorm took us all by surprise.”
Niki wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer, “I don’t need a fancy birthday party or even a fancy day to be celebrated a certain way. This way was perfect.” 
You nodded, tangling your fingers with his, “What did you wish for when you blew the candles out?” 
Niki shook his head, “Nothing.” 
You sat up and looked at him, “Why not!?” 
All Niki could do was smile, placing his hand on your cheek, his thumb tracing your jawline, “Because I already have my wish. To be beside you for the rest of eternity.” 
You softly smiled, “But you already get that.” 
He nodded, looking between you, Heeseung, and __, “Having you all beside me is enough. I couldn’t be more thankful for you guys, thank you for an amazing birthday.” 
Heeseung clapped, “Here’s to you, brother.” 
You pull Niki into a hug, “Happy birthday, Nishimura Riki, I love you so much.” 
He hugged you back tighter, resting his face on your shoulder, “I love you too, thank you so much.”
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8 Days of Christmas — Baby, It’s Cold Outside
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pairing: agent whiskey x f!reader
rating: E (18+ ONLY, jack being jack, alcohol consumption, oral sex (m receiving), daddy kink obviously, dom!jack, cock grinding? idk, riding, creampie)
word count: 2.2k
8 Days of Christmas Masterlist
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It was a long, cold day at the slopes, Jack having spent the better half of the day trying to teach you the basics of skiing which, more often than not, ended up with you landing flat on your ass. You may have found the day irritating if it hadn’t been for the amount of hearty, full-bellied laughs your clumsiness had pulled from your usually reserved boyfriend.
Now, with a sore ass and sore cheeks from smiling, you and Jack made your way back to the private cabin he’d rented out for the weekend. The two of you had a busy year, only seeing each other at night and on the weekends, except for when Jack was called on by the Statesmen. Both of you deeply craved some time alone together, uninterrupted by the demands of your busy careers, and what better place than in the middle of the snowy woods during Christmas, when everyone was too busy with family to bother you?
“I think my ass is gonna be ice cold and sore for the next week,” you groaned as you finally made it inside the cabin, Jack quick to turn the heater on while you kicked off your snow boots. “Gonna have to take it easy on me tonight.”
“Oh, is that so, sugar?” He chuckled, walking to you in the entryway, his arms wrapping around your waist as he looked down at you with that winning smile of his.
“Mmhm,” you grinned up at him, holding his face in your hands. “You’re not gonna get overeager and start throwing me around like you like to do?”
“Only if you beg,” he winked, leaning down to give you a sweet peck. “How ‘bout you head your fine ass into the bathtub while I whip up some supper?”
“You gonna bring me a glass of wine, too?” Jack playfully rolled his eyes before nodding.
“Of course. Whatever the queen demands.” You leaned up on your toes to give him another peck on the lips, this time letting it linger long enough to earn a hum from your cowboy. “Alright, sugar. Don’t get me all worked up if you ain’t plannin’ on deliverin’.”
“I always deliver, don’t I?” you asked with a smirk, pulling away from him to head off towards the master suite. Jack slapped your ass as you walked past him, earning a hiss and a scolding glare. “Watch it, cowboy.”
“Oh, believe me, I am, darlin’.” He made a point to eye your ass through you snowsuit, making you laugh and shake your head as you left him for the warmth of the bathtub.
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One glass of wine later, and you were sat on Jack’s lap at the dinner table, the two of you too needy to sit in your separate seats while you ate. He lifted his fork to your lips, feeding you a piece of perfectly cooked steak before doing the same for himself. You hummed at the taste of his cooking and shook your head.
“I have no clue where you learned to cook so well,” you started as you took a sip of your new glass of wine. “Another woman perhaps?”
“Yep.” You scoffed, swatting his stomach playfully. “I’m talkin’ ‘bout my damn mama, sugar. No need to get jealous.”
“When it comes to you, there’s every need to get jealous. Where else am I gonna find a man that looks this good, treats me like a queen, and fucks me like a slut?” Jack’s eyes widened at your words, chuckling as he lifted his glass of whiskey to his lips.
“That wine gettin’ to ya?” You shrugged, playing coy. “What do you say we take this party over to the fireplace, hm? Get cozy?”
“Yeah, that sounds nice.”
Jack walked you over to the sofa, ordering you to “sit your pretty ass down” while he lit the fireplace. You grinned into your wine glass as you watched him bend over, the grey of his flannel pajama pants showcasing his adorable ass while the white of his perfectly form-fitting t-shirt stretched over the expanse of his broad shoulders. Feeling impatient, you uncrossed your legs and slid the hem of your silk nightgown up to your hips, your fingers running up and down your lace-covered slit as he turned around.
“My, my…what a sight,” he praised as he stalked over to you with a winning smile on. “Gettin’ started without me, sugar?”
“Just getting warmed up,” you replied in a pure, tugging him closer by the waistband of his pants. Jack was grinning as he watched you sit up a bit, your eyes locked on his as you undid the tie around his waist, your hands then smoothing over his thighs, purposely avoiding the growing tent in his pants.
“You gonna play with me all night?” he questioned, reaching to smooth his fingertips over your jawline. You shook your head, smirking at him as you brought one hand to his bulge, stroking him through the fabric. Jack let out a soft moan and bucked his hips into your open palm, his head falling back as he allowed you to tease him to full hardness. “Jesus, darlin…”
“Can I take these off?” You lightly tugged on his pants, earning his gaze again. Jack nodded eagerly, pinching your chin before watching you shimmy his pants down until his cock was springing free, the leaking, purple tip hitting your lips. You giggled at the attack and gripped him at his base, staring up into his eyes as you pumped him against your puckered lips. “Mm, you’re teasing me but you’re just as worked up from your whiskey.”
“It ain’t the whiskey, it’s just you, sugar,” he assured, combing your hair back. “Now why don’t you go ahead and have a taste?”
You smiled before sticking your tongue out and flattening it, tapping his thick head against it just to watch his brows crease.
“C’mon, don’t tease,” he begged in a rasp that went straight to your clit. Wrapping your lips around him, you sucked just the head into your mouth, earning a deep growl from your cowboy, his fingers tangling in your hair. “That’s good, baby…keep goin’ just like that.”
You couldn’t help the whine you let out from his praise, sucking him deeper into your mouth until you were kissing your fist wrapped around his girth. Jack’s moans were now given freely, his hand in the back of your head guiding your movements as you bobbed on him, working your throat up to taking him all the way.
“Baby girl,” he cooed, his lips formed in an ‘o’ as he watched you, his head tilted to admire your good work. “That mouth is heaven and hell all in one.”
You pulled him out of your mouth just to smile, spit stringing grin your lips to the head of his cock. Jack couldn’t resist bending down to kiss it away, his tongue sliding into your mouth to taste you. You hummed against him and pulled him closer by his neck, Jack willingly following you onto the sofa. He rested between your open thighs as you laid all the way back, his hands running over the silk of the nightgown he’d bought you last Christmas.
“As much as I love the sight of you in this number, I’m gonna need you to take it off for me,” he husked as his thumb brushed over your nipple, causing your back to arch into his touch. Jack stripped while you peeled your nightgown off and tossed it onto the floor, leaving you only in your red lace thong, his eyes turning black with lust as he took you in. “Look at you sprawled out like a damn pinup.”
“You gonna touch me or just keep looking?” you purred, spreading your thighs for him. Jack’s jaw ticked as he watched you slip the lace to the side, exposing the glistening sheen of your pussy.
“You’re a damn gift to mankind, sugar.” He laid on his stomach, his head resting on your thigh as his mouth remained just an inch from your pussy, his fingers stroking through your slick. “And all mine, right?”
“All yours,” you confirmed with a grin. “Why don’t you go ahead and taste my pussy, daddy?”
“Your pussy?” He questioned with a quirk of his brows. “C’mon, sugar. Whose pussy is this?”
You grinned mischievously, biting your lip. “Mine.”
“Oh, is that so?” He chuckled and kissed your thigh. “Maybe I need to remind you? Or…maybe the best way to remind you is by doin’ nothin’ at all.” He sat back on his ankles, crossing his arms over his chest. You frowned at the absence of his body heat, watching as he raised an eyebrow at you in challenge. “Go on. If it’s your pussy, why don’t you make yourself cum.”
“Jack,” you pouted, sitting up and crawling to him, straddling his lap. “It’s your pussy.”
“Yeah?” He watched as you rocked your hips against his cock, sandwiching it between your pussy and his belly. “I don’t think you deserve my mouth yet, sugar. Not after that.”
“Please?” You stuck out your bottom lip and earned a half-smirk, his hands coming to rest on your hips to guide your movements.
“Get yourself off like this and then I’ll give you my mouth, baby girl,” he ordered and you eagerly obeyed, rocking your hips against the underside of his cock, your clit catching deliciously on his fat tip. “Yes, baby…just like that.”
“Fuck,” you whined, brows furrowed as you looked down at the slick now coating his cock as you worked yourself up to your first climax. “Can I put it inside, daddy?”
“Thought you wanted my mouth, sweet thing?” He chuckled and cupped your face with one hand.
“I want your cock,” you pled, giving him the best puppy dog eyes you could muster through your pleasure. Jack cooed at you, stroking his thumb over your bottom lip. “Please, I’m so close. Want you inside me when I cum.”
“Alright, sugar,” he nodded, pulling your face closer so that he could press his lips against yours. “Go ahead and take it. Take what you need.”
You shivered as you guided his cock into your heat, both of you gasping against one another as you fully sheathed him in your wetness.
“Jesus,” he growled, his hands now gripping your hips as he guided you on him. “That’s fuckin’ good, baby. Riding me so good.”
“Jack,” you moaned, tipping your head back as his cock brushed against your inner bundle of nerves.
“Need my fingers, baby?” He asked sweetly, bringing his lips to the base of your throat. You nodded quickly, nails clawing at his shoulders. Jack smiled against your skin, seemingly pleased with your eagerness as he brought to fingers to your clit, stroking perfectly pressured circles against it.
You shivered with a moan as your high started to slowly trickle through your every nerve, radiating from where he was connected to you to the very tips of your toes and fingers. “Oh, fuck, Jack, baby…god.”
“There ya go…sweet thing,” he cooed, laying you back against the sofa and bringing his body to hover over yours. He ran his hand over your cheek and admired you like you were the most delicate thing he’d ever see. “Ready for one more, sugar?”
“Fuck, yes please,” your hands cradled his neck and jaw as his thrusts turned sharp, hips snapping harshly into yours while he kept his eyes locked on you. “Jack, I love you…fuck, I love you.”
“I love you, too, pretty thing,” he promised, giving you a sweet kiss that was the total opposite of the thrusts he was giving you. “God damn…you’re squeezing me so tight I can hardly pull out.”
You did nothing but mewl, your eyes squeezing shut as he hit that spot inside of you that blurred your consciousness, his shit-eating grin going unseen by you as he watched your face contort with pleasure.
“That it, huh? That’s the spot?” You nodded quickly, not wanting to give him any reason to stop. “Look at me when I make you cum, sugar. I wanna see those pretty eyes.”
“Oh, god, baby,” you mewled, your face scrunched up as though you were in pain but you were deep in bliss as your second high dawned upon you, Jack’s grin widening somehow as you looked him in the eye. “Jack, I’m—“
“I know, I can feel it, baby girl,” he chuckled and leaned in, kissing your chin. “Gonna fill you up now, that alright? If I fuck you full of me, sugar?”
“Yes! Fuck!” You writhed for him as you came, chest heaving and eyes squeezing shut to rise out the waves while Jack’s thrusts turned animalistic, his growls and moans filling the room like your favorite song.
“Oh, shit, baby,” he groaned, pressing his cock as far inside you as you’d take him. You opened your eyes in time to feel his cock pulse inside of you, Jack’s eyes screwed shut, his brows creased, his bottom lip pouted as he let out a string of moans and curses, his hands roaming over your stomach and hips for purchase.
“That was so good,” you praised, raking your fingers through his dark hair. Jack chuckled, finally coming back to earth. He let his weight fall on top of you, hugging you into the plush sectional and remaining inside you.
“I gotta get you wine-drunk more often, sugar.”
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dailyreverie · 4 months
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Snowbound
A/N: Kicking off the holidays with a cute snowy moment with Poe ☺️❄️ I hope you all enjoy this, and all the stories that are coming!
1. Ice skating
Pairing: Poe Dameron x reader
Word count: 1.1K
Holiday prompts ⛄
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You walked for what felt like ages, until you could swear your joints were frozen from your feet being buried under snow for so long. But Poe wouldn’t hear your complaints, dismissing them with his usual confident smile swearing you were close to the town you were supposed to reach for supplies.
“Remind me again, why you landed so far?” You complained as he helped you jump down a snow-covered rock. 
“This place is basically hidden under the trees. Besides, the last time I came here the weather was nothing like this, I was able to land closer.” Poe defended himself and his ‘no more than a 15-minute walk’ promise he gave before you left. Your landed right in front of him after you jumped, meeting eye-to-eye with him, his hand not leaving yours in the process not letting you slip onto the cold ground; still, you glared at him. “Don’t hold it against me.” He tried one last time.
“I won’t be able to if I freeze to death.” Ever the gentleman, Poe lifted your hand to his lips and gently kissed your knuckles. “Don’t try to charm me, flyboy.”
“I promise I’ll make it up to you.” In between his rosy cheeks, hidden under the hood of his puffy jacket, you saw that cheeky sparkle in his eyes that you’ve always loved.
“You better,” after a playful push of his shoulder, you kept on walking your never-ending trail of snow.
“I promise we are close now, and we’ll stay the night in the coziest inn I can find.” Your chuckle told him everything he needed: you were not mad, you were just cold. “We only need to reach the lake, surround it, and we’ll be no more than 5 minutes away.”
“And are you sure we are not lost? If there’s a lake nearby we should at least be able to see it, and no offense honey but- woah!” The next step you took made your foot slip, almost making you fall backward if it weren’t for Poe’s hands catching your back. “What the hell?!”
With cautious feet, Poe stepped and slid his foot on the ground. “This is the lake.”
As you and Poe stood there, recovering from the unexpected slip on the ice, the sudden appearance of BB-8 added a new layer of chaos to the situation. Poe's attempt to warn the droid about the icy surface was cut short as BB-8 rushed past you both, completely unprepared for the slippery terrain. “BB, watch out! Everything in front of us is-” Poe’s words died in his throat as the droid rolled past you, not slowing down a bit and clearly not expecting to slide around the ice. The droid began to let out high-pitched beeps, screaming in surprise into the cold air. The scene in front of you sent you both into a fit of laughter as the droid kept spinning around, doubling in laughter as BB tried (and failed) to stop his round body from whirling on the ice.
In the midst of it all, Poe found your hand, warmth meeting cold, and he pulled you onto the icy surface with mischievous intent. “Hey! What do you think you are doing?”
“Come on, let’s join Beebs.” His eyebrows did a swift up and down motion, almost convincing you. 
“No way, Poe! I’m not planning on breaking a leg!” You protested as he kept pulling, and much to your dismay, he managed to successfully pull you into the ice. “KRIFF, POE!” You exclaimed between laughter as you slid, Poe’s hands on your waist steading you as he pulled you, sliding himself backward not to miss any expression on your face.
As you reluctantly found yourself on the icy surface of the lake, Poe flashed you one of his famously mischievous grins. “Why do you look like you are about to murder me?”
You stared at him standing still as a rock, not risking moving and dramatically falling on your bottom. “Because I just might do it.” If it weren’t for the tremble on your legs, Poe would’ve been sure of your threat. It didn’t help you, though, that the second you tried to move away from him your feet began to wobble on the icy surface. Poe was quick to steady you with firm hands on your hips, but that didn’t stop him from erupting in laughter, loudly and with his head thrown back, his melodic laughs echoing around the snow-covered trees that framed the lake. “I will kill you, Dameron!”
“Come on, sweetheart! It’s not that hard,” Poe expertly slid to stand behind you, his chest against your back and his grip still tight on your waist; you knew that whatever happened next, he was not gonna let you fall. “One foot in front of the other, just like walking.” He encouraged you, pushing you softly as your feet began to move.
With Poe's guidance, you reluctantly began to take cautious steps on the ice, trying your best to maintain your balance. His warm presence behind you and the reassurance in his voice eased some of your tension, and soon he let you go and stood still to watch you gracefully slide across the ice.
“Told you! You are a natural!” Poe cheered, followed by a few beeps from BB who had finally managed to slow down to a soft spin. “You did not do it better, bud, you couldn’t even stop.”
“I’m way better than you, BB!” You couldn't help but smile at Poe’s infectious enthusiasm, and soon enough, you found yourself actually enjoying the unexpected detour from the mission. You couldn’t seem to remember the cold, your hurting joints, and the mountains of snow, right then, the only thing on your mind was enjoying this little moment Poe created out of nowhere for the two of you.
Poe joined you soon after, skating quickly to catch you by surprise. His hands landed on your hips as you squealed, even more so when he pushed you across the ice to test your abilities. “Oh, you’re in for it, Dameron!” you declared, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you skated back to him, challenging him to a race.
“The winner can have the shower first.” Poe grinned, the twinkle in his eyes matching the snowy landscape around you. 
“Or…” You stood dangerously close to him, your noses almost touching. “If I win, you won’t get to shower with me.” Poe’s eyes widened, he was sure your sultry tone alone would be enough to melt the ice - if he didn’t melted before. Before he knew it you were skating away, laughing at his shocked face.
“Hey! That’s not fair!” Poe caught you and twirled you around on the ice, your laughter mingling with his as you both ran away from each other. The worries of the mission, the biting cold, and the challenges of the journey melted away; you always wondered how Poe did it, how he could make you forget everything that was wrong with such simple things. Turns out, his only mission these days was to see you smile.
🚀❄️⛄🚀❄��⛄🚀❄️⛄🚀❄️⛄🚀❄️⛄🚀❄️⛄🚀
Thanks for reading! Please reblog and comment if you enjoyed it!
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gaybybirth · 4 months
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broken fireplaces, christmas trees, and a handy lumberjack - pt one
Lumberjack!Joel Miller x fem!Reader (SFW)
pt two
Synopsis: Finding a Christmas tree by yourself (and after recently moving to a small town) wouldn't be so hard if you weren't looking for that picture-perfect live tree that's practically twice your size. Thankfully, there's a fairly helpful worker nearby who helps you out.
Warnings: fluff and super soft (and sometimes awkward) flirting; nsfw in the next part, follows romance movie logic (pls make smart choices irl with strangers), mix of soft and grumpy!joel, no outbreak (sarah is alive and mentioned), implied age gap (no specific ages are mentioned for the reader or joel), reader is a bit of a damsel in distress and a little panicky during said moments of distress, joel really just likes to be helpful
Word Count: 12k
A/N: Listen...i know this requires the romance movie filter (make smart choices about who knows info about you lmao). I'm sorry. The story is still super soft and sweet, and joel just really wants to be a helpful guy. (also, i'm sorry for any errors missed in editing)
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Hunting for the right Christmas tree wasn't as simple as picking out the first one you saw. You didn't walk up to a grocery store, tell them you wanted a random tree they had outside, and then hoped for the best pick of the bunch. Finding the right tree was an ordeal. One that was considerably daunting given how massive the parking lot was in front of you and the fact that there was a serious case of freezing weather today.
A skating rink had already been set up down the road, and you’d considered going down to it, but not now. Not when the branches of the trees rustled, and the wind permeated your winter coat. Down to the bone, you shivered with the bone-chilling gusts. Young children ran around you excited, full of energy, warm. 
“Not fair,” you murmured, hugging yourself tighter. 
Maybe you should've gone home first and changed out of the black pencil skirt you'd worn to work. The tights you had on underneath weren't doing much to insulate. Your boots were warm, though. Warm enough. 
You kept walking. 
Tall. Thick. Bushy. There were simple qualifications for the right tree, except you weren’t just shopping for yourself. All of your friends and family would see this thing. It had to be perfect. So you walked the makeshift aisles, careful not to step on any patches of ice forming on the parking lot the trees occupied. 
The trees varied as you moved down the rows. The pink bands were the right height for the vaulted ceiling in your living room. But they were all so skinny. You didn’t want slim; you had so many ornaments, so much garland, an endless collection of lights–you wanted a tree that could handle all of that. All of what helped make Christmas…Christmas. 
Loose pebbles crunched underneath your boots as you walked around a corner. There were all the basic red, green, blue, and pink ornaments. You ran your gloved hands over the branches. Then, you had all of the ones based on media and pop culture. The fun ones. You examined one hopeful possibility until you found two unforgivable bald spots. 
After the fun ones, you had the glass. The careful ones. Then the garland, the lights you'd forget to put on first until you already started decorating, the drizzle of fake snow if you wanted it this year. It got everywhere, but it was considerably worth it. It made the whole tree come together as some sort of winter wonderland. Just meant that you had to find the right, perfect, exact tree that'd work.
You stepped forward, eyes still on the last unforgiving bald spot on the tree beside you. Seemed the bigger they got, the more damaged in transit they’d gotten. So you kept going. Listened to all the family chat around you. Some laughed, others argued. Few debated between a few trees. A good handful went to the few people allocated to work that evening, getting help moving their trees up front to be netted, cut, and loaded onto their cars. 
You were close to that step, but not yet. You pulled a large tree back, the awkward distribution of its weight making you a little weary, and you did your best to spin it. Sap covered your hands while branches smacked against your shoulders, almost your face, and you frowned as you tried to look at the whole thing.
Maybe you should’ve asked a friend to come with you…
“Need some help?”
A gruff voice with a soft southern drawl made you step back while you reluctantly put the tree back down. It fell against the stack of two others, and a few needles fell to the ground unceremoniously. Well. You glanced in the direction of the voice just behind you and to the right. A family walked by right behind him, and he didn't even spare them a look as he came up beside you, an almost tired look on his face.
Salt and pepper hair was pushed out of his forehead, the same color combination on his stubble and mustache. Rough and not entirely clipped clean. A yellow-gloved hand scratched at it momentarily as he came up beside you. Both arms went across his broad chest, and a thick red plaid shirt poked out from under his canvas jacket. Dark blue jeans fell down around his legs, tight across the front. Up to where a belt with a decently large buckle was. 
A tiny, crooked name tag sat just barely noticeable underneath his arms. 
Joel.
“Uh, yeah.” You watched your breath turn into a cloud in front of you. You nodded your head and laughed softly. Wow. Most of the people working the yard were teenagers and their parents. “I think so.”
He nodded once and adjusted his stance. His feet went a little closer to shoulder-width apart, arms got a little tighter in their position over his chest, and he kept his eyes forward on the trees in front of you. His work boots shifted over the pavement and dragged on top of the pebbles. 
“Looking for anything specific, or just tall?” 
“Tall, yeah,” you said with a laugh. “I have fourteen-foot vaulted ceilings, so I want as tall as I can go. But I want it to be, like…big.” You held out your hands, accidentally bumping him. He didn’t even budge. Just looked over at you as your hand hit hard muscle on his tricep. 
“If possible.”
“So, you want tall and wide. Got it.” He motioned toward the right with his head. “Bigger trees are this way.”
“Okay.” 
You followed behind him, step for step, staring at his back. The jacket seemed to both fit him perfectly, and yet still seem to have to stretch over him. Years of wear and tear showed on it, little scratches here and there. A spot near the bottom where it’d been sewn. A few stains that were fairly faded now. Oh, and lots of needles sticking to it. Not clumped together or anything. But the sap kept them all sticking to him, even when he walked with every large, purposeful step.
The trees around you started to really tower over you as he brought you to the far back corner of the lot. The trees stood between ten and fifteen feet, and it felt like walking into a forest. The smell of the trees engulfed you while the wind carried it in a soft swirl, and Joel, without prompt, walked up to a twelve-footer and hauled it out like it was nothing but a few twigs. A little grunt gave away the actual force behind having to awkwardly move the tree, and it started from the center of his chest before spreading out. 
The tree plopped onto the ground with a bounce that helped open the branches up. It formed into a perfect triangle with a nice little point at the top. Almost. Joel spun it so you could check the whole thing, and just as he almost completed the circle, a solid chunk was taken out of the back. 
"Damn it." You didn't mean to pout, but you felt the frown coming up before you could stop it. "Normally, I don't mind that, but my tree's out in the center this year, and this is the first year my whole family's gonna be together at my place."
You let out a long breath, and before it finished, Joel was hauling the tree back to where it was. 
"Okay." He narrowed his eyes as he walked the section; you followed, watching him more than the trees. His eyes scanned each one without picking them up. He moved slowly, and it even looked like there was a bit of scrutiny behind his brown eyes. 
He picked up one tree just a bit, shook it, frowned, and then set it back down. Then another, which you actually thought looked fairly decent. Then another. This was his job, so you just let him do the work, but…as he moved along to the next set of trees, they all started to look relatively the same. And you were worried you were getting into a height that wouldn’t fit as Joel started to look at a thirteen-footer. 
"You really take this seriously, don't you?" you muttered, watching as his thick brows knitted and he hauled the tree out. 
He had one of those very brows cocked as he glanced back at you over his shoulder. He moved the tree with one hand, dropping it down and out. It shook, with very few needles falling off, and it spread out in a beautiful fan of dark green. 
“Used to work on a tree farm when I was younger.” He spun the tree with an I told you so kind of movement. “Know what to look for.”
"Really?" You skimmed over his back again. His shoulders. His arms. Made sense. It wasn't hard to picture him swinging an ax. Actually, it was fairly picturesque. Him, wrapped up in what he had on now, thick gloves protecting his hands, the handle of the ax in them. Snow fell around him as he huffed with every hard blow of the sharp edge against the trunk of a tree. 
Just thump. Thump. Thump.
Shit. The tree in front of you. You jerked your eyes back to the tree he spun in front of you, cheeks a little warmer than before. Joel looked at you with patience that you knew he had because, wow. You stepped toward the tree and ran your hands over the branches. 
“It’s perfect.”
“Mhm.” He gave the tree another shake. “Want it?”
“It won’t be too tall with a topper on it?”
“How fucking tall is your topper?” He kicked the base of the tree, making the whole thing dance. “I gotta trim the bottom up anyway. Can take a little more off than the normal.”
“Uh, average? It’s just a glowy star. Maybe a little over half a foot tall?”
"You'll be fine," he grunted and nodded toward the front of the lot. "C'mon. I'll get it fixed up."
Damn it. There was just something about the damn ease of how he moved the tree. You knew damn well you'd have to call someone to help you move it inside. Even in the perfect conditions, you weren't entirely sure you could move a thirteen-foot tree into your house alone. Let alone get it into the stand. How the hell were you supposed to get it off your car?
Questions you should’ve been finding answers to. Instead, you might have glanced down to where his jeans were tight around his ass. You might have shamelessly looked a little longer than you should’ve as he walked with those wide strides. Muscle poked through beneath his jacket, weirdly enough, and it was just mesmerizing watching him move the tree up onto the table. And then the man grabbed a chainsaw. 
It wasn’t anything massive. Probably a little bigger than his forearm that was kept way out of reach of any of the young kids there. He checked his surroundings, and even made sure you were at an appropriate distance, before he started it. A few tables older, another man struggled to get a clean cut, redoing it a few times and, shaving off small sections and cursing under his breath. The revving covered it, but you knew the familiar scowl that came with a frustrated fuck. 
At another table, one of the workers struggled to get the tree on the table correctly to be able to pull it through the netting. Joel, just a few feet away, almost comically trimmed the bottom, turned the chainsaw off, ran his gloved hands over the perfect cut, and hauled the tree through the net with one hand before the others were done. He grunted as he caught the tree at the other end and glanced back at you with the obvious look of you coming?
Mhm. Yup. You damn near skipped after him, fumbling for your wallet as he grabbed a scanner to ring up the tree. He pulled his gloves off to work the tablet, and his hands were just as big without the work material wrapped around them. They were scarred, too. Rough. He narrowed his eyes as he worked through the clear muscle memory of ringing it up. Until he turned the screen toward you with the pricey total, his arm bumping yours.
You damn near dropped your credit card from the contact. You wanted to blame it on the literal bump, but he smelled so much like Christmas and seemed to radiate heat, when he turned his eyes to you, it threw you. You cleared your throat and awkwardly pulled one of your gloves off to be able to sign your name. You failed the first time, the interior cloth getting caught on one of your rings. Then, you knocked your arm into his again when you did get it off. You softly said sorry was humiliating, and you kept your eyes right down on the tablet. 
At least your signature was decent, considering you were signing it with your finger while shivering. 
“Okay,” he muttered after you finished, and you–again–fumbled with your things as you tried to pack everything away.
Smooth. So very, very smooth. You kept your eyes down the entire time. 
“How far did you park?”
“What?” You lifted your head and looked out at the large lot of cars. “Oh, not far. I’m the black Accord over there with the reindeer antlers. Hold on, I can pull my car up–”
But Joel was already lifting the tree. Over his shoulder. Like it was nothing. Cause of course he was. The rest of your words trailed off as you trailed after him, struggling to get your keys out. He managed to grab one of the dozens of twine balls on his way, and you were still rummaging through your purse for your keys. 
Now was not the time to have lost them in the abyss. Now was the time to rush ahead of him, get your doors open, and make it just a little fucking easier for him. And yet, to nobody's surprise, you were just getting your keys out when Joel was setting the tree down to glance back at you. Waiting. 
There was the faintest smile tugging up on the resting scowl he had as he reached up and tapped the antlers with two fingers. 
“I like Christmas,” you said with a huff. “There’s a red nose on the front too.”
“Of course there is,” he said, looking up at the sky as if you’d just told him the most unbelievable news. 
You gave him the best cheeky smile you could muster as you finally got your car unlocked, and you ran around to every door, opening them and praying your car wasn’t as messy as it looked to you. Your empty travel mug with a snowman on it sat in your cup holder, a snowflake blanket sat on the back seat, and a little Christmas tree air freshener hung from the rearview mirror. 
Well…it wasn't messy, at least. But given how Joel looked at it all with such clear amusement, you felt a little embarrassed. Enough to bite your bottom lip to keep from saying anything stupid as you stepped back and watched him haul the tree up to the top of your car. He centered it, making sure it didn't hang too much over one end or obscure any views, and then he handed you the ball of twine. 
You took it without instruction, holding it out in front of you as Joel walked up. He faced you, both hands coming up to yours to tighten your hold on the ball, and even through your gloves, you could feel him. The strong grip and the head. You bit your lip a little harder, eyes glued down to where he had his hands and held your breath so you wouldn't get the really nice Christmas smell. 
Normally, when someone reached into their pocket and procured a knife, you would’ve jumped. Maybe said woah or hey, now. But given the circumstances, you just held out the ball of twine as he pulled a long stretch off and pulled the short, sharp, silver blade through it with one easy stroke. He did it two more times, and something that you really tried to ignore sparked in your stomach. 
“Are you gonna be able to get this inside?” Joel asked as he gathered up the string in his hands. 
“Probably,” you lied. You lived alone. If you had any hope of getting the tree inside, it’d have to sit on your car for a day or two before you could get a few friends over to help you. “I’ll figure it out.”
Joel sighed, lowering his hands as he looked at you. “Probably?”
“Mhm.” You nodded your head. “Yup.”
He nodded at the tree. "This is a two or three-person job. Get it off the car, inside a stand, and inside."
Your smile grew as you tried to hide the clear lack of planning on your part.
“Yup. Oh, yeah. I’m not an idiot. I wouldn’t buy a tree I couldn’t move.”
The corner of his mouth twitched again. A little more of a smile showed, and he turned toward your car. He walked to the other side and looked down at you through the open door. 
“Of course you wouldn’t.” He threw the twine over the top of the car, and you reached up to awkwardly catch it. You fed it through your car to him, hands brushing in the process. “They were just too busy to come with you tonight.” 
“One hundred percent. Exactly.” 
He tied the knot with ease and perfection before throwing the next one–a longer one–over top and had you pass it through the other side of your driver's side. He threw it over again before you passed it through behind your passenger seat to create an x on your ceiling. 
“For all you know, I live with three very strong, very muscular roommates who are armed to take on any massive tree I bring home.”
There was that half-smile again. A small laugh, even. And it was a really nice sound. The kind that you kind of wanted to hear again. Especially where it wasn’t cold, and maybe there was a drink in your hand. And his. 
“Yeah, do you?”
"Excuse me, I don't think you're supposed to ask a stranger that." You got the last end of the twine and fed it through to him once more. "No person with intelligence would tell a stranger whether they live alone or not."
Joel tilted his head, and there was another smile. When he finished tying the twine off, he shut both doors and sauntered around to your side of the car. Both arms were crossed as he looked up at the tree, cheeks slightly sucked in. 
"Only askin' 'cause how the hell do you plan on getting this inside if you don’t have anyone to help?” 
“Who said I didn’t?”
Joel gave you a pointed look. 
"I'm serious." You reached into your purse and managed to get a ten-dollar bill from your wallet. "For your help. Thank you for helping me get the perfect tree."
Reluctantly, he accepted it, peering back at the rest of the lot as he slipped it into his back pocket. He had one hand on your door as you walked over to get in, and something–again–flickered in your stomach as he leaned against it. He cleared his throat as you slid into your seat, turning your car on and buckling your seatbelt. 
He had to close his eyes the instant holiday music started playing a little too loudly from your radio. You just smiled up at him as he tapped your car door a few times with his hand. He shook his head and sighed. His breath puffed out around him, and for a second, you were going to ask him if there was a step you'd missed since he was still there. But you didn't. Something told you to wait.
And so waiting, you did. It brought a small movement of him grabbing his wallet, and there was a moment of hesitation before he handed you a rectangular white card. His name was written in full on the top, and a few phone numbers were written underneath. Including a personal number. 
"In case you can't get any of those muscular roommates to help." He cleared his throat and looked back up at your tree. "Just gimme a call. I can always send a dad and his kid over. They wouldn't mind the extra work. Free of charge."
A little wave of heat spread out over your chest as you took the card. There was no stopping the smile as you tucked it very obviously away into your jacket pocket to look at later. Joel nodded once as you did that, and you whispered a soft thank you as he tapped the top of your car door again. 
“‘Course.” He peered down at you with those exceptionally dark brown eyes, and you bit your lip again to stop your smile from being way too far beyond the general politeness one. “Have a good night.”
“Thanks,” you muttered. “You too.”
The door shut with a firm slam, and you sank back in your seat as he turned. He sauntered a way with a little sway to his step that made it fairly enjoyable to watch him walk away. And the jeans. The jeans made it very enjoyable. 
Ha. You fished out the business card and surely left permanent indentations on your lip as you looked down at his personal number. 
You'd be a total idiot to invite a stranger over to help move a damn tree. A total, total idiot. The only way you'd possibly be a bigger idiot was if you drove all the way home, texted the two friends you'd made since moving, only to be met with, sure, I can in a few days. From both. Lindsey was at her grandma’s until Monday night, and Olivia was on a work trip until Tuesday.
And since it was supposed to downpour Sunday afternoon and then turn to freezing temperatures overnight…waiting until Monday wasn’t exactly an option. You stared at the forecast, checked it a dozen times, and prayed it’d change. Either the temperature would stay high enough to avoid freezing, or it just wouldn’t rain at all. Anything to keep it from freezing to your car before you had to go into work. 
Besides, as you paced around your kitchen in your pajamas, a warm cup of cocoa on your kitchen counter, and a toaster waffle in your hand, it'd be considerably easier going into work without a tree strapped to the top of your car. A lot less ridicule. 
You weighed the pros and cons. Two strangers coming to your house for maybe fifteen or twenty minutes to get the tree off of your car and at least into your garage, they'd be on their way, and you could wait until Monday to move it into your house or…drive around with a tree hanging off both ends of your car for the next three days. 
And you got to call Joel. Weren’t sure which category that fell into. Maybe a little bit of both? You were atrocious at phone calls. Calling a handsome man was already a tally on both sides. Calling him to admit you needed help was even worse. He probably wouldn’t even remember you. He probably gave the car out to every person who needed extra help like you did. Yeah, it totally wouldn’t be weird. And it looked like he was the owner of the business, so it definitely wasn’t the first time he’d done this. 
So, you’d just call him. Call him. You typed his number into your phone, leaned on your counter, took a sip of your cocoa, and…kept your thumb over the call button. Call him. Your thumb kept hovering. 
Early. It was way too early to call, right? It was only nine. He wouldn't be awake, let alone within any working hours. He was hauling around trees for hours; he probably needed a lot of rest. So, yeah, too early to call.
Unless that meant he wouldn't take the call, and you'd get to leave a voicemail. That'd be better. So much better.
“Fuck it.”
You tapped the button and nervously held the phone up to your ear. Like listening to the call ring would suddenly let him see you standing in your kitchen in your pink and purple Christmas cat pajama set. You spun the melting candy cane around in your mug and bit the inside of your cheeks as one ring turned into the next.
He totally wasn’t going to answer. 
Jackpot. 
Well, jackpot until a little crackling cut through the ringing. And it wasn’t his voicemail box that you reached.
“Hello?” the gruff voice said through your phone, and wow. It took a solid few seconds to get over the clear sleep roughening up his voice. 
“Oh, uh, um. Hi.” You scrunched your nose as your voice came out too fast, too breathy, too quietly. “Is, uh, is this Joel? From the Christmas tree lot?”
Simple words. Obvious words to say. Yet you sounded fucking foolish saying them. Your cheeks erupted in flames as something that sounded an awful lot like sheets moved in the background. 
“It is,” was all he said. 
Shit. You hadn’t told him your name. How the hell were you supposed to introduce yourself? Couldn’t just say it and expect him to know. Fuck. 
“Uh, it’s uh…reindeer antler car, with the way too big tree. (Y/N). My name’s (Y/N). You gave me your card last night just in case–”
“Those buff buddies didn’t come bail you out?”
A wave of relief washed over you, and a smile grew wide. He did remember you. 
“They…didn’t. And, um, it’s supposed to rain tomorrow night, so I was wondering if I could take you up on the help? I don’t mind paying. I just need it moved into my garage. If possible. Please.”
Your nose stayed scrunched, and you put your hand over your eyes. Pressed your fingers into your temples and let out a silent groan. Sounding like a fool seemed to be your existence so far today. How lovely.
"I can have someone out there this evening if that works." 
“Sure, yeah. Totally.” You cleared your throat. “That works fine. Thank you, I really appreciate it.”
“Mhm. Just text me your address. They should be out sometime between five and six.” The faintest groan snuck through the phone, and a little shiver went down your spine. Lord. You needed to go for a run or something to get your head out of the gutter it seemed to have fallen into. 
“Of course. Uh, great. Sorry for the early call.”
“Needed to be up anyway.” There was a quiet popping that sounded a lot like how your neck popped when you stretched it in the mornings. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Okay,” you murmured, pressing your hand harder to your face. “Well, thank you again. I seriously appreciate it. Have a good morning?”
It was less of a question for him and more your uncertainty of how to end the phone call. Hearing his voice on the other end of the line was a little too addicting when you knew the man attached to it. Only got worse when you felt like you could feel the vibrations coming from his chest as he grunted again.
“‘Course. I’ll tell ‘em to look for the place with the reindeer. Have a good morning, Rudolf.”
The line cut just as you let out a little bit of a choke laugh. There wasn't a single ounce of offense in you, but you couldn't help but laugh at the audacity. He'd been so stone-faced last night, and then that. You shook your head and lowered your phone. 
Well, at least you did it. And you put Joel's name under the number, just in case. You might’ve also added (Sexy Lumberjack) next to it. Just in case, a few months down the line, you forgot why the hell you had a random Joel number in your phone.
Sexy Lumberjack…now that wasn’t something you’d forget. 
You set a timer for a little before five o’clock while looking out your front window at your car. You had the whole day still, and yet it felt incredibly daunting having to wait. It was just bringing a tree into your garage. Some father and Boy Scout son would come move it, he’d earn a badge or something, and then they’d be on their way.
But, damn, if that didn’t do anything to calm your nerves. 
“It’ll be fine,” you said to yourself. “Totally fucking fine.”
You took a long, burning sip of your hot cocoa and nodded. Completely and totally fine.
Panic coursed through you as the metal threatened to burn your skin. The ventilation wasn’t poor–there was actually no risk yet–but the construction of the fireplace was just off enough to lead to poor decisions. Well, when left on for too long. 
You moved the switch back and forth a few times, but the fire inside the glass panel never turned off. The heat continued to pour out of the front and side vents, and the temperature in your living room was close to actually being hot. Mixed with the fact that you'd just spent the last two hours baking a few dozen cookies for work and friends, the whole bottom floor of your townhouse had your windows open and your clothing swapped. You had a sweater up top with a pair of sleep shorts that didn't leave much to the imagination. A pair of red and green slippers stayed on your feet, and an apron was tied tight around you. 
The fireplace had been on for a few hours now, but when your timer went off just shortly before five, you ran over to shut it off. Except it wouldn’t fucking turn off. You were still new in the house. Still learning where shit went, how shit worked, and there wasn’t even an instructional book on how to work the damn fireplace. 
You tried looking it up online, but nothing. There was no name on the front of the thing, and no other brand indication to even give you a head start besides electric fireplace. You damn near burned your hand again as you pointlessly tried the switch. 
“Damn it.”
You reeled your hand back and took a step back. Picking up your phone to find your landlord’s contact, you blatantly ignored the time. What you couldn’t ignore, however, was the sudden shift on your screen to see Joel’s contact pop up for a phone call. 
“Shit. Shit." Couldn't ignore that. Especially since it'd probably be better to reschedule, considering you might actually burn your house down if you couldn't get ahold of someone tonight. 
So you took the call. 
“Hey, hi. Hi, Joel,” you said with a little bit of a frantic laugh following the words. 
There was a pause before he spoke.
“Hi. Just wanted to call and let you know Kev and his kid Devon are gonna head over shortly. That work?”
"Uh. Um. Actually, is it totally possible to reschedule?" You reached forward to try the switch rather pointlessly once again. Touching the burning metal with your skin made a small sizzling noise, and you jerked your hand back. "Fuck. Sorry. Sorry.”
Another pause.
“Everything okay over there?”
“Um, yeah. Sort of.” You laughed again, clearly more panicked. “Got an electric fireplace I suddenly can’t get to turn off. Don’t wanna burn my house down and take two casualties with me. Is it okay if we do it tomorrow? Gotta try and call my landlord to see if he’ll take the trip out here.” 
“Is it a standalone or built-in one?” Joel asked without even a moment’s pause. 
“Built-in. To a chimney. Why?”
“Do you have a fire extinguisher on hand?” 
“...no.” You glanced at the spot where there should be one in your kitchen. 
“Alright. Just…don’t touch it and step back from it.”
You took half a step away from it and sat on your coffee table, eyeing the fireplace carefully. There was some noise on the other end of the line and then a soft jingling of metal. The opening then closing of a door. 
“Okay, I did,” you said a little nervously. 
His car started up, and you watched the flames dance inside the fireplace. 
“I’ve installed a few of those before. Just don’t burn your house down ‘til I get there, ‘kay?”
Your heart thundered a little louder in your chest. “Okay. I’ll try.”
The line clicked, and you slowly sat your phone down. Joel was…coming over. The flames taunted you with heat that was getting worse the longer you sat there. Joel had installed these before. Okay. So he'd worked on houses before; that was cool. A lumberjack who was extra good with his hands. And who was coming over to help you with yours. Great, that was great. 
You squeezed the edge of the table and took a very, very slow breath. 
Sexy Lumberjack was coming over to help fix your broken fireplace. What a knight in shining armor that was. Ha.
You did as he said. Sat on your coffee table, didn’t touch the fireplace, kept an eye on it, and hoped it wouldn’t burn your house down. It only took Joel fifteen minutes to get there, but it felt like a fifteen minutes that existed outside of normal space and time. It seemed to pass entirely too quickly, and yet it felt like an eternity had dragged on when you heard the car pull into your driveway. 
But the second you did hear it, you were on your feet and opening your front door before Joel could even knock. He was still at the bottom of your steps when you flung the door open, and he cocked a brow at you. Probably at your apron, shorts, and sweater combination. But none of that was important as you grabbed his hand and hauled him inside. The fact that he didn't even have a toolbox with him already made you feel like this was going to be easier than you realized to fix.
“Hi, come in,” was said quickly. 
You brought Joel past all of the Christmas decorations you had up and planted him in front of the fireplace. He narrowed his eyes at it before he flipped the switch on the side. Only once. To the off position before he walked around to the side. 
“Was it here when you moved in?”
You nodded. “Landlord just said I had to use the switch to turn it off and on.”
"Dumbass." Joel kicked the side of the fireplace. "Him and the idiot who installed this. Not you. Where's your fuse box?"
“Um, garage. I think.”
“You think?” Joel gave you a crooked grin. “You don’t know where your fuse box is?”
“I’ve only lived here for like three months, okay?” You walked toward the door that led to your garage. “And I’ve never had to use it for anything before.” 
Joel shook his head before following you, and you had to embarrassingly lead him out into the collection of more Christmas decorations inside your garage. Most were for after you put the tree up, but there were definitely a few boxes with outside decor in them. And a giant light-up snowman.
Joel took the lead from there, quickly looking around the small space for the metal door of your circuit breaker. Lo and behold, it was there. It did take him a second to find it, though, and he looked ready to ask you why you had a goddamn workbench hiding half of it before you interrupted his thought. 
“That was already here when I moved in,” you said a bit defensively. You might not have found the circuit breaker yet, but you weren’t a total idiot. You wouldn’t knowingly try to hide it. And you sauntered up next to him with the intention of helping him move the solid wood contraption over the half a foot it needed, but he managed on his own.
Joel looked beyond annoyed as he opened the door and frowned at the interior. 
“Fucking idiot.” He reached up and jerked the one labeled for your living room off, and you caught the interior lights shut off. You put a hand on Joel’s back before you stepped back just until you could see inside. The fireplace was off. 
“Seriously? That’s all I needed to do?” You looked back at him as he flipped the switch again. The fireplace stayed off. “Am I an idiot?”
“No.” He closed the door. “Kind you got is supposed to have their own fuse that they connect to. It’s also supposed to turn off when you touch the switch. Once it cools down, I can poke my head in and see what’s what if you want.” He crossed his arms and took a few steps closer to you, but you barely noticed.
You wanted to kick yourself in the head until sense kicked in its place. No shit you should’ve tried that instead of burning yourself hitting a switch that clearly didn’t work. But nope. It took Joel coming all the way out here to do the obvious. Jesus. You were an idiot. 
You wiped your hands over your face and laughed. Awkwardly. Self-deprecating.
“Thank you,” you said into your palms. “I won’t make you do that. Just coming over here and doing that has been way more than enough. Thank you.”
Joel’s next breath was long and slow, and you dropped your hands to catch him rolling up his sleeves and nodding. Those dark eyes went back to your door before landing just over your shoulder at your closed garage door. 
“Let me at least get your tree in the house for you since I’m here. Spare you and the guys the trouble coming out tomorrow.”
You rubbed the back of your neck. Well…he was there already. And with how he was rolling up his sleeves, he was clearly already in work mode. The veins on his arms bulged as he finished exposing his forearms, and you had to stare at your slippers to keep from gawking at the muscle there. Nice. They were really, really nice forearms.
“Okay.” You nodded. “Let me get the tree stand and my keys.”
Finally, you got a breather. From the panic regarding the fireplace, at least. Setting up the tree stand in your garage, starting to freeze in the cold air, and watching Joel cut your tree down wasn't exactly leading to any kind of relief. In fact, the way he handled his knife–the ease with which he sliced it through the twine like he'd done it a thousand times before–was doing the exact opposite. And not in the way that it should've been. You blamed the adrenaline for that…and the fact that Joel had rushed over to help stop your house from burning down, offered to look at the damn thing, and was taking your tree down for you.
Being any sort of damsel in distress wasn't exactly on your bingo card, yet you couldn't take the marker off of it. So you unscrewed the three prongs on the stand, set it in the middle of your garage, and…
Joel hoisted the thirteen-foot tree off of your car. 
Shit.
It was, without a damn doubt, not going to be able to stand upright in your garage. Either Joel knew that already and was sparring you the embarrassment, or he was so focused on everything else, his head hadn’t caught up with that. So you acted on a whim, plucking up the tree stand, and tried not to watch how easily Joel got the tree over his shoulder. 
“Just bring it right inside the living room,” you said a little quickly.
"It'll make a mess with getting the net off. You sure?"
Well…you’d already committed. So you waved him in, thankful for the hardwood flooring going across the living room.
Okay. You plopped the tree down in the open space between your kitchen and living room. Where a round dining table should be, but you hadn’t found the perfect one yet. Later. You’d figure that out later. You knelt beside it as Joel nudged your garage door shut behind him with his boot. Some needles fell in a path from there to you, and they snowed a bit down atop you as he manhandled the tree from his shoulder. 
With a few grunts, the tree was down, and his hands had harsh grips on the netting. The muscles twitch in his forearms, veins still bulging. A sight to behold, really. One you couldn’t when you had to guide the tree into the stand. So you quickly dropped your eyes down, reaching out and feeling the sticky sap against your fingers. It took some maneuvering, but it got there with some minor adjustments. And then the tree slotted in, and Joel unexpectedly knelt. One hand stayed up to hold onto the tree while the other twisted the metal prong just beside your hand.
You locked eyes for a few seconds. Maybe it was wishful thinking on memories long past, but there was something happening inside your chest at the simple action. Not him helping; that was sweet on its own. But…having someone there with you to help. To decorate with. A wry smile tugged on your lips as you went about finishing up the last one. 
“Thanks,” you said softly, standing and brushing off the needles attached to your apron. 
Joel nodded. “Gonna get the net off now. Watch out.”
Out went the knife again, and the blade cut obscenely clean through the webbed plastic. The orange material split under the metal, and there was your tree. Took a second since Joel wasn’t exactly thirteen feet tall, but when he did get the net off. Perfection. The branches started to fall and open themselves up. The full triangle filled the open and empty space with more than just dark green. The scent mixed with the vanilla and gingerbread. The Christmas tree candle you’d lit last night had nothing on this. 
“It’s perfect.” You wiped your hands off on your apron and looked at Joel. “Thank you.”
Joel scratched the back of his head and nodded. “‘Course. It’s a good tree. Looks good.”
“It does.” 
It took peering down at your apron to remember basic hospitality. After all the panic and adrenaline, it seemed your mind had finally caught up with itself. At least regarding what you were supposed to offer guests. Especially guests who had gone so far out of their way to assist you. You nearly smacked yourself in the face as you lifted your head and turned to Joel. It was pure determination to not blurt it out like some panicking fool. 
“Don’t know if they’re your thing, but I do have some cookies made. If you’d like some. As a thank you.” You stepped toward your kitchen, moving just behind Joel to get there, and pointed at the cooling racks. “Got sugar and gingerbread. You’re more than welcome to help yourself. It’s the least I can do since you’ve done so much for me today alone.”
Joel hesitated. It was clear on his face as he checked his watch and glanced toward your front door. But when he looked back at the tree, the fireplace, and then toward the cookies–something close to hope stirred in your chest. Hope that shouldn’t have been there. Hope that didn’t come with a handsome stranger being inside your home, clearly armed to some degree, knowing you lived alone. 
“Only if you let me take a look at the damn fireplace.” He cleared his throat. “Don’t want it happening again like that. Dangerous as shit.”
A small smile tugged up on your mouth, and Joel pushed a hand through his hair. He was really serious about taking a look at your fireplace. Would it hurt to let him? If he’d actually installed them before, he probably knew what he was doing. And having him take a look would spare you from having to contact Ronald right away. Especially if he could fix it. 
“Should I ask to see your credentials before I let you go poking around in my fireplace?” 
“Carpenter for the last twenty years. Built a lot of shit.” He looked over your tree, staring at the perfect point at the top. “Do the tree stuff on the side.” 
Those eyes dropped back to you, brows raising and pinching, a look of genuine concern pulling his features together. He looked back at the fireplace after a second, and you wished it’d take your thundering pulse with it. 
“I’d sleep a little better tonight knowing you’re not gonna burn your house down just to get warm.”
Well, damn it. You were apparently weaker to sincerity and concern that you gave yourself credit for. Just a few words broke down the little bit of nerves, and you found yourself shrugging. There was no stopping the smile as you motioned toward the kitchen, toward the cookies. 
“Alright. I concede. You can take a look at it. But be warned, I own a total of maybe five tools.”
“Got a box in my truck,” he said casually, following behind you. 
You leaned back against the cold counter, thankful that one spot inside the house wasn’t still an oven. The cold granite pressed into your palms as you tried to casually watch Joel saunter up. A little awkwardly, but it just made your nerves calm a little more. He didn’t stand too close, and he didn’t touch anything. He just glanced down at the frosted cookies and tilted his head, probably trying not to say something smart about all of the different holiday cutouts you’d used. 
“Pick your poison,” you said, lifting your hand in front of them. “Sugar or gingerbread?”
Joel hummed softly, narrowing his eyes and flicking them over the ridiculous amount of cookies covering your countertops. 
“I’m more concerned with the crooked door,” he murmured after a second, and you glanced down at your least favorite bottom cabinet in the kitchen. It wasn’t horribly noticeable, but just enough that when you saw it, it hurt. It dragged against the top corner of the other door, scraping some of the paint off, so you never used it. Never touched it. Ronald said he'd get someone out there to fix it eventually since it was clearly just a cosmetics issue, but that had been months ago. 
“There’s a reason the rent is fairly affordable,” you said with a little laugh, reaching up to grab a Christmas plate from your upper cupboard. After washing your hands, you went out of your way to put three sugar cookies and three gingerbread all on his plate. All were purposefully shaped like trees. 
Joel moved his gaze from the door to the plate as you handed it to him, and he gave you a look that nearly shot a laugh from you. 
“I had to,” you whispered. “C’mon.”
“Funny,” he grunted, but there was a faint smile on his lips. 
Oddly enough, it felt a bit like a win. And that win felt damn good. You rode that miniature high as you grabbed a plate for yourself and a few cookies. Without a lot of furniture, you both took to the couch. Two mugs of milk, and washed hands on Joel’s part, five minutes later you were eating the cookies and getting to hear the utterly satisfying sound of Joel moaning as he took the first bite. Bites. Both cookies gave you the chest-vibrating sound of him moaning, and you nearly choked on your own bite when you heard it. 
The world was beyond cruel for the timing. 
And the fact that you’d both decided to sit in the center of each cushion, bringing you fairly close together on the couch. A little too close for your sanity when he smelled like literal Christmas. 
From there, it didn’t get any better. 
See, it took time for the fireplace to cool down. So, as you ate the cookies, there was time to actually talk. About Joel, even though it took him a bit to find the right answers. How he used to spend hours on the old tree farms, helping people cut down their own trees every holiday season. He even worked in a lumber mill for a short time. But he had a fairly decent business going on locally, between selling the trees seasonally and working on different home projects around the city. 
He didn’t talk much about his personal life beyond that, so you didn’t pry.
And he didn’t pry into yours. Well, outside of jokingly asking what idiot your landlord hired to do any of the work in your house. He also asked what brought you to move locally, and you just shrugged. Would it feel shoehorned in if you told him the truth? The truth was the truth.
“Bad breakup and new job opportunity. So, here I am, starting fresh.”
If there was any indication that Joel noticed your not-so-subtle–yet not entirely done on purpose–comment about being single, it didn't show. Or, at least, you didn't catch it. Besides, looking for a reaction was exactly the inappropriate thing to do when he was there going out of his way to help you. Seriously help you. Guilt crept in a little bit after he disappeared outside for a few minutes, only to return not with just a toolbox but a damn drill. 
It was impossible not to look at him with awe as he checked the still-too-hot fireplace before going over to the cabinet. He knelt in front of it and frowned at the hinge. You sauntered up behind him slowly, putting the dishes in the sink and watching him seemingly switch into work mode. Concentration pinched his brow as he picked up the drill, and he peered up at you. 
“Mind if I…?”
“No, yeah. Sorry. Sure. Go ahead.” The words left you a little too quickly. “Mind if I watch? Call it proof of credentials before you go poking around in the fireplace.”
A small smile made your heart skip as he squeezed the trigger on the drill a few times. 
"Straightening out a crooked door is about as easy as it comes." He waved you over, though, and a little nervously, you sauntered up beside him. He gently took your hand and placed it underneath the knob on the front. "Hold this for me."
“Okay.” 
You kept your hand as still as you could as he brought the drill up to the screws. You weren’t sure where to watch since there was just something so mesmerizing about his casual look of concentration. The man showed up to turn off your fireplace, bring your tree inside, and was fixing your damn crooked cabinet door. This didn’t happen. Not so casually. 
And yet, there he was, kneeling at your feet, guiding your hand as he adjusted the bottom hinge. He talked about getting someone out there to fix where the old holes were since he was sorely lacking the shit to do that, and in the process, he might’ve offered to come do it for you. Nearly made the door slip from your grip, but you somehow managed to hold steady. You also responded with an okay. 
“Doubt my landlord will be happy about it, but you’ve done more for me so far than he had about fixing anything.” You knelt down beside him, legs touching softly. “Do I just call the work number on the card you gave me?”
The sound of the drill whirring echoed in your kitchen for a few short seconds as he put the hinges in the correct place. He didn’t look at you until he was done, resting his elbow on his knee and looking over his work. 
“No. Call my personal number.” He sat the drill down and reached over, fingers brushing yours as he grabbed the knob and gave the door a few testing swings. “I’ll handle it myself.”
 Your cheeks burned not just from the touch. Why wouldn't he just delegate that if it was such a simple thing to do? He was the boss; boss ought to have better gigs to take care of than coming over to your place to fill holes. Screw holes. 
Nope. 
You had to look away from him as you said a thank you. Putting the words screw, holes, and Joel together in a sentence didn't exactly lend itself to the image in front of you. Watching his fingers move as he put the drill back in its case and picked up the toolbox…ha. Now, that wasn't helping either. At all. 
The dial on your internal temperature was cranked up to max as he moved toward your living room. You knelt on the floor a little longer, disguising your necessary break by playing with the fixed door. But hearing the soft groan Joel let out behind you as he knelt back on the ground was like a little fan blowing more oxygen on the sparks catching on kindling. 
When he flipped the switch on the fireplace, you expected to be met with it turning on, then not turning off, then him simply saying to call an actual repair man through your landlord. What you definitely weren’t expecting was it to not do anything at all. And as you walked over on wobbly legs, there was Joel frowning at the fireplace and opening his toolbox. 
“Wasn’t expecting that,” he murmured. He glanced back over his shoulder at you. “Gonna poke around inside a bit. That okay? Might, uh, be a bit.”
You waved a hand at him. “All yours.”
He nodded once, and that was all he needed to start working. You stood back and watched for a few minutes–him opening his toolbox, sorting through tools you only kind of knew the names to, and managing to pop open the front of the fireplace like it was nothing more than a Pringles lid. One he started to shine a flashlight inside, bringing some of those tools inside of the fireplace, you figured looking over his shoulder probably wasn't what would help him concentrate. 
So you made yourself busy. 
As busy for as long as you could be when your eyes kept going back to him in your living room. Washed dishes, cleaned up the cookies, and packed them away accordingly. Went out into your garage and, brought in the tree decorations, filled the tree stand up with water. Pointlessly went upstairs to your room to throw the dirty apron in the laundry basket and trade your sweater out for a t-shirt since the heat downstairs was still lingering. You contemplated changing out of your shorts, but would that be weird? They weren't that short. And wouldn’t changing them just call attention to the fact that you’d been wearing them?
So you kept them on, tugging on the slightly form-fitting shirt and changing into different Christmas slippers. They were snug on your feet as you trotted downstairs. Forty-five minutes had passed, and Joel was still poking around inside the fireplace. Not that you didn't mind having him there–handsome stranger or not–but he had to be at the tree lot, didn't he?
“Almost got it,” he said when you sauntered up next to him to ask him that very question. He poked his head out from inside of it, and a little bit of black grease went across his cheek. The urge to wipe it clean made your hand twitch, and you had to remind yourself that touching him like that was beyond inappropriate when he was there to help you. “Be outta your hair soon.”
“No rush,” you said a little too softly. 
Joel’s dark eyes lingered for just a second before he disappeared back inside the fireplace.
Twenty minutes later, while you were lounging back on your couch with a book, Joel finished. He put the front back on, checked the seals, and then flipped the switch once–it turned on. He flipped it again–it turned off. He repeated it a few times before he turned and repeated it once more, facing you. And all you could do was drop your book, practically gawking at him. 
“You fixed it? Just like that?”
"Wasn't that simple, but yeah. Should be all good now." He made sure to keep the switch in the off position as he wiped his hand on a rag from the toolbox and came over toward you. "Just, uh, keep an eye on it and probably don't run it for too long at once. If it gives you any more trouble, though, gimme a call. I'll take care of it."
Your feet fell to the floor as you sat upright. Seriously? You blinked at him. No way in hell you were misreading it, right? No normal person would have done everything Joel had just for the shits and giggles of it. Just cause. But there was no way he was…no. Could he?
“Thank you,” you murmured, not entirely sure what else to say. What did you say to a man who just came and fixed three of your problems in the span of a few hours? “You’re a real gentleman, Mr. Miller.” 
He cleared his throat while scratching his stubble. “Just don’t like the thought of your house catching fire from someone else’s shit job.” He tilted his head. “Would give me more work, though.”
“Wow.” You dared to kick your foot out at his, playfully tapping the tip of his boot. “Alright, I’ll be sure not to call you if there's a problem then. I'll take out the whole strip of townhomes and keep you in work."
“Great. Just wait ‘til after the holidays. Gotta sell out the lot of trees, first.”
Wow. He was joking with you. You couldn't stop the grin that overtook you as he looked down at you with amusement. So, you kept it going. It was mostly a joke, considering he surely had to get back to the lot, but you couldn't help but wonder about the possibility. If he actually said yes. 
“Guess I shouldn’t offer you a beer as an extra thank you, then.” When you stood up, you realized how little space was between you. Very, very little space. Your chest nearly touched his as you straightened your back, and Joel didn’t even budge a step back. Neither did you. “I’d hate to keep you from your trees.”
“Another time,” he said. And wow–who knew two words could make firecrackers shoot off in your stomach. Joel wanted to have a drink with you. Sure, in the most technical sense. But…another time meant another time. “Gotta drive back.”
“Well,” you said slowly, looking down at where the top button of his plaid shirt was undone. The small triangle of skin showed a patch of hair, and you felt your head spin a little bit. “Is there anything I can offer as a thank you?”
You sounded like a bad script in a porno. Voice was a little more breathy than it should’ve been, and you definitely should’ve moved away from him already. Put a little more space between you to not feel the heat of his body radiate against you. But you were already there, and it did feel a little nice. 
“Mind if I rinse off a bit in your shower? Hate to go back dirty.” 
Ha. From filling and screwing holes right into literal territory. Naked territory. In your shower. You kept your smile light, mentally smacking yourself in the face as you nodded, motioning toward the stairs. 
He was just inside your damn fireplace; of course, he’d want to clean up. Get your head out of the gutter. You stepped to the side, and Joel followed. His toolbox was left by your garage door, and he pulled his boots off there, too. There was no stopping the little laugh when you saw his red and green snowflake knitted socks. He gave you a pointed look, and you kept your mouth shut, but he was wearing Christmas-themed socks. He wasn't as big of a lump of coal as you'd thought. 
“The shower in my room is fully stocked, so you can just use that one. But–”
“But?” Joe followed two steps behind you. A confused expression pinched his brows. 
“But it’s a little finicky. Just…you’ll see.”
“Jesus Christ,” he murmured under his breath, and you let him go into your bedroom first, standing back and motioning to the open bathroom door inside. 
Inside the very winter-themed bedroom, you'd set up for yourself. A small fake tree on your dresser, a red and white comforter set with snowflakes on it, and a matching small decorative pillow. The white rug you always used just stayed out, and a string of lights went across the headboard of your wooden bed. A red Santa hat sat on top of your vanity's mirror. 
Joel just glanced back at you before stepping into your bathroom. Only then did you follow him in, grabbing a fresh dark green towel from underneath your sink. And Joel, as you passed it to him, frowned at…more than a few things. The cheap bar that you had to fix every so often, but in Ronald’s defense, you’d broken that one when you slipped out of the shower. You reached for it to catch yourself and…pop. 
The hook on the back of the door was slightly off-center, but since you hung a bathrobe up there, you never bothered with it. One bulb had burnt out a few days ago in your overhead light, but since it had a glass cover over it, you'd been putting off changing it. Your doorknob was a cheap thing. Nothing but a small knob. No lock. Which Joel silently noted as he ran his thumb over the back of it. 
And then he looked like he was going to have an aneurysm when you jerked your shower curtain–a snow landscape of trees–and showed him how to jiggle the handles to get the hot water to work. 
"Before you say anything, my landlord already knows about three out of the five things. I can change a doorknob and a lightbulb; I just haven't gotten around to it."
“Neither has your landlord,” Joel mumbled, shaking his head. “Jesus.”
You shrugged. The only egregious part was having to jiggle the handle for hot water, and even that wasn't the end of the world. But you couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out, and Joel sighed. He took the towel and nodded, though. 
“I’ll be quick.”
“No rush.” 
You might’ve done a once over on him as you backed out of the bathroom. He was in those really tight jeans again. And his shirt…looked really nice hugging his upper body. You closed the door behind you as the shower started up, and you heard his belt unbuckle. And there he was. Sexy Lumberjack, naked in your bathroom.
You stared down at your bed with wide eyes and took a very slow breath.
Don’t. Going down that path would bring nothing but disaster. Horrible, horrible disaster. You probably should’ve just gone downstairs and made yourself busy, but phone in hand, Joel in your shower, your curiosity got the better of you. There was a bit of an internal struggle, but it very quickly ended with your curiosity winning. So you sat on the side of your bed, leaning back on one elbow, and pulled up a search engine. 
Typing in Joel Miller really brought up the results. His carpentry company, the tree lot, and a few social media sites that you might’ve quickly flipped through. Mostly for pictures. Some you even found of him. Younger, and with another guy who was tagged as Tommy Miller. Two and two made him his brother. A younger girl, way younger than you, Sarah Miller. A few pictures of just her and Joel–and some shared features–gave way to the obvious. His proud smile as he put an arm around her for a more recent picture of her helping with the trees made your heart flutter. 
He had a daughter.
There was much more than that on the sites. Joel had a personal Facebook page, and it showed exactly the same as what he'd told you. Well, what information was available to the public, at least. Some young pictures of him in various clothing with an ax over his shoulder, surrounded by trees. Some standing, some not. Some of him in just a tank top, jeans, and toolbelt. A stack of lumber sat to his right, and a few other workers were behind him, out of focus. 
No pictures of any significant others and his relationship status also said single.
Well. You scrolled through a few more pictures available for public viewing. Mostly work-related, one of him and Sarah that had also been on the tree lot page. One of him beside a pool, without a shirt on, sunglasses on, beer in hand, a small smile tugging up his mouth. The sun hit him perfectly, and you got to see the thick muscles going along the entire upper half of his body. 
“Damn,” you muttered. You pinched the screen and zoomed in a little. First on his face, and then, shamelessly, a little lower. Where you could see a few scars intermingled with the abdominal muscles. The surprisingly toned abdominal muscles. 
Joel wasn’t just hot. He was hot.
A not-so-soft creaking came from behind you, and you had never closed an image so fast once you realized not only was the shower off, but that was the sound of your door opening. You managed to get the image closed, but it took a solid few extra seconds to close the app, turn your phone off, and lower it. By the time you glanced over, Joel was standing in the bathroom doorway, towel-drying his hair, one brow cocked as he peered at you. Probably failing at looking casual while lounging on your bed. 
Jesus. You were lounging on your bed, waiting for him after he showered. How else would that look?
And before you could even try and stand, Joel lowered the towel. 
“Were you looking at my Facebook page?”
“I…” You sucked in your cheeks and decided to look elsewhere. Like the floor by his feet. That was easier. You damn near burned a hole through your mattress as you tried to find the right words, but it wasn’t coming easily when Joel had caught you. “I have an older guy in my house, a stranger–I was just doing my due diligence. Making sure you are who you say you are.” 
Even you didn’t believe yourself. 
“Am I?” he asked with a tone that almost sounded amused. It made the tips of your ears burn. 
“From what I can tell, yeah.” You still didn’t look up from the ground. “Sorry.”
A faint snort snuck out as he draped his wet towel over the broken towel rack, seeming to pointedly go out of his way to make sure it didn’t fall in the process. The sound sent a little shiver down your spine, and you glanced up once he started to walk back out into your bedroom. He crossed his arms and nodded down at your phone beside you. 
“It’s fine. It's safe.” He looked back at your bathroom door. “Just like how you should have a lock on there. I can bring one back with me next time. Change it if you want. Fix the towel wrack and the hook, too.”
You bit your lip to stop yourself from asking the dreaded question. But as he looked up at your ceiling light and started to ask if you wanted him to change that while he was here, you couldn't help it. It was too much to bear to not ask him.
“You this nice to all the people who buy trees from you?” With a playful tone, you tried to lighten the question by adding, “Do you go around fixing everyone’s fireplaces?”
Point blank, without even a second for you to breathe, he answered. 
“Nope.” He turned toward your bedroom door. “First time, actually.” 
He started down the stairs, and you just stared after him. Liar. With how quickly he just…came over to help, there was no way this was his first time playing someone’s knight in shining armor, Christmas tree version. You had to scramble to your feet in order to follow him down in time, heart racing as you nearly fell down the steps. He was already sliding his boots on when you got to the base of the steps, and he turned those brown eyes your way. 
“I’m really the first person you’ve done all of this for?”
"For free?" He nodded, almost like he was having trouble wrapping his head around it, too. "Yup."
You had to grab onto the railing to keep yourself steady. He’d done it just for you. Unless he was lying, but you let yourself have it. He’d done this for you. Just for you. Your smile grew, and Joel cleared his throat as he fished around in his pocket for his keys. 
“Thanks, Joel,” you said softly, not entirely sure what else you were supposed to say. 
He just nodded, picking up his toolbox with one hand and getting his keys situated in the other. You took that chance to slide over, hand going for the door to get it for him. The close contact made your chest brush against his arm, and a small curse slipped from his lips as his keys fell to the floor. 
He started to go for them, but the sudden rush of adrenaline had you on the floor first. You picked them up and slid them into his palm. He nodded again, eyes back on you, and that heat flared as you finally figured out the next move. A…careful one. A testing one. 
Your hand stayed on top of his keys as you leaned in. His hand closed around yours before you even got to your destination, and you felt it twitch as you pressed your lips to his cheek. Stubble poked back as you very gently kissed him, and his arm pressed right against your chest. Just for a few seconds. He smelled like your soap and still the trees, the scent swirling around you with a sparking warmth as you pulled back.
He blinked at you as he took a very deep breath. A long, long breath. He peered down at where your hand fell away from his keys, and his eyes followed your hand back by your side. Fuck repeated itself in your head as Joel nodded. Fuck. Had you just ruined it? Had you just–
“I can swing by Monday evening. Seven o’clock,” he said, voice gruff and low. It reverberated in his chest. Deep in his chest.
"Okay." You bit your bottom lip. It was a physical fight that kept the excitement out of your voice. "I look forward to it."
Joel looked back at you once more before you reached forward and got the door for him. 
“Bye, Mr. Miller.”
He nodded, disappearing out into your garage and then toward your driveway. You watched him go, hands shaking, adrenaline pumping beyond its limits. He threw his toolbox into the back of his truck and had a hand in his wet hair as he looked back in your direction. He lingered for just a second, driver's door open, and you swore you saw the faintest smile before he climbed in.
You closed your door as he shut his. The wood was cold against your back as you pressed against it, staring at your ceiling. 
“Oh my god,” you breathed.
You had a sexy lumberjack carpenter coming on Monday.
Holy shit. 
134 notes · View notes
fairykazu · 3 months
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WARM SMILES & HOT COCOA FT. KAZUHA contents // meet-cute, reminiscing on memories, blooming est. relationship, strangers to friends to lovers, feminine reader masterlist
if there was any season, you'll ask kazuha which he'd liked the most, he would pick winter in an instant. although, if you asked him before dating him, he would say autumn. he would clarify first that he loves every season, but autumn is his favorite because of the weather being not too hot or too cold and how the leaves are crunchy.
you've asked since the season your boyfriend would always reply with was autumn. it was his go-to season. so when it was a sudden change you wanted to ask why and why did he say "you have changed my brain chemistry!"
who taught him this???
finding it strange, you thought otherwise but he insisted that you did. you snorted quietly as kazuha persistently asked you why you reacted that way. "it's because you've liked autumn for so long, i don't understand why you would change it all the sudden." kazuha wrinkled his nose a little out of confusion, sitting down on the brown couch as you draped a blanket over him.
he kept you closer to him, eventually, you were pulled into his lap as he replied, "not because of how much it snowed so you could build a snowman and catch the snowflakes on your tongue. nor the reason to ice skate or drink hot cocoa without looking crazy. it was the season when i met you."
you hid your small smile into kazuha's neck, he could feel the smile against his skin. "why are you hiding your face from me? my beautiful girlfriend?"
"stop being corny, kazuha."
"sweetheart, im not being 'corny', im being honest."
˚₊ ❄︎ (flashback)
today was a disaster not only it started to snow, your blind date, which hu tao went out of her way to set up, stood you up. now you're freezing your butt off in the snow that's at least two or more inches tall, thankfully, there was a bookstore next door. trudging in the snow, the windows displayed books littered around all over two white shelves on both sides. if you could, you would just admire and stare at the display choosing which book you'd read but it's not the time nor place for it.
the bell rang when a blonde guy opened the engraved oak door for you, you thanked him as he walked behind you. a gust of warm air hits your ruddy cheeks, you felt as if heaven came to you just to kiss you with warmth. you stood on the outskirts of the bookstore, shaking off the snow off of you. leaving the small cluster of snow in a corner, you walked through the bookshelves filled room. as the overhead lights set a warm setting, you went to the cafe that was placed in a corner of the bookstore. it was basically like a barnes & nobles.
although your spirits about your blind date shattered into pieces, this barista at the cafe somehow revived not only your pride but also your heart. "hello, miss, welcome to the cozy corner cafe, as you can see, we are placed in the corner of the store." he nervously laughed at his own joke. even though, it wasn't really funny, you laughed along too.
he visibly relaxed as he continued to speak, "what would you have today?"
"um, this is such a hard choice," you looked briefly at the menu, which was, written on the chalkboard. maybe a tad too tiny. should you go basic and say a hot chocolate? or something else to energize you like a coffee?
"miss, if you're having a bad time trying to choose then tell me what you like and i'll try to concoct a drink for you."
"i don't know about that." you replied, tapping your foot lightly out of sheer anxiety. "sure, you're cute but how would i know if you wouldn't throw a 'potion' in there." you have no idea what the hell you're saying, this guy is so cute and you feel like you're fumbling.
thankfully, he didn't make a comment on the potion joke, his ears turned a slight shade of red, "you can trust me. if you don't like it, you can order something else and i'd throw a cookie on the house."
letting out an exhale, you questioned, "on the house? really..." you squinted at the namecard plaque. "... kazuha?"
"yes, really."
"if you say so... i like my drinks a tad bit sweet but not kid in a candy store sweet, you know? just something warm."
"okay, one mystery drink for a cute girl coming right up."
˚₊ ❄︎ (end of flashback; present time)
even though some of the parts of your point of view of the story was true. that wasn't how kazuha had seen it.
you pulled away from his neck, "what do you mean it didn't happen that way?"
"because it didn't!" kazuha insisted.
˚₊ ❄︎ (flashback)
when kazuha was restocking the romance section of the bookstore, his friend, heizou, pulled him into the cafe's region. "kazuha, it's your shift."
kazuha wrinkled his nose in confusion as heizou grabbed kazuha's apron from the back. tossing the fabric to kazuha, in which, he caught.
"what? i didn't have a shift at the cafe today?" suddenly a light bulb was lit above him as heizou sheepishly hid his face. "...wow okay, pushing me to do your job, aren't you."
˚₊ ❄︎ (end of flashback; present time)
"okaay," you said, interrupting kazuha's storytime. "obviously, i wouldn't know this part of the story."
"i know but this is backstory and for context!"
"okay, okay, continue."
˚₊ ❄︎ (flashback cont)
heizou cried, kazuha thinks that he could even see tears starting to form, "im late to my blind date, dude!" the brunet nervously laughed. "it started at 2. it's freaking 3 right now."
kazuha snorted quietly, "so your date thinks you stood her up."
heizou placed his hands on his head, stressing out a little, "...yes and our mutual friend even planned it out. think of that one romance book but me and a pretty girl next to me."
kazuha rolled his eyes as he tied the apron's strings behind him, "why would a pretty girl be with you?"
the green eyed guy rolled his eyes, "ok, kazuha, but seriously, i gotta go. i didn't know restocking books would be so long." that was because he never memorized how to do it more efficiently.
"ok but like who would fill in my spot at the register?" the cafe is owned by their friend named kokomi and since it was winter season, she strategized to have her conventionally attractive employees not only to attract more customers being eye candy but also, she had a soft spot for meet cutes. "did you even tell kokomi you had a date today."
"umm thoma and no..."
"this is completely on you. but yes, ill fill in your spot as long as you can get thoma here." kazuha replied as heizou frantically gets his phone from his pocket, texting the assumingly blonde.
"done, he says hes on the way." kazuha nodded as heizou quickly grabbed his coat from the back, dashing out of the door. by the time the door's bell rang, thoma arrived and so did a new customer.
---
as kazuha was prepping for another customer's drink, they asked for helpful yet oddly detailed drink. it was something with peppermint, vanilla pumps and something... something sweet flower extract? ok, maybe he forgot the order but if they like it regardless, it's a win. "the sweetest drink ever for..." he read out the name. "sucrose?"
a green haired girl walked up to him; a messenger bag filled to the brim with various books. one of the pockets of the bag had different bookmarks and little knickknackeries. she adjusted her glasses, taking the drink from kazuha's hand, "thank you, um, kazuha?"
"no problem, sucrose. please come again!"
then the most beautiful girl he ever laid his eyes on walked into the cafe, a little soaked from the snow from outside. just one look from her and his heart would be out of his chest. oh, wait, she did... oh GOD, kazuha's heart is gone, leaping out of his chest, simply dissipating as you bore into his eyes. oh god, he thought, i think her beauty gave me an instant lobotomy.
as his heart jumped back into his button up covered chest, as it tried to cause a resurrection to his brain, he opted for automatic mode, "pret-" he cleared his throat. oh my god, i almost blurted out "pretty girl". he winced at himself a little. "hello, miss, welcome to the cozy corner cafe, as you can see, we are placed in the corner of the store." maybe, reviving back his brain wasn't a good choice.
he nervously laughed at his own joke, oh my god, this is the worst. i am fumbling! he thought as he frantically needed to put his hands to work. grabbing a cup from the stack and waiting for you to say your order but thankfully, you laughed at his joke too.
"um, this is kind of hard?"
kazuha was trying his best to "ball" out his embarrassment but also wanting to talk to you more, "miss, if you're having a bad time trying to choose then tell me what you like and i'll try to concoct a drink for you."
noticing you fidget a little, he instantly knew he just fumbled right there. please don't leave, please don't leave
"i don't know about that." you replied, tapping your foot lightly out of sheer anxiety. "sure, you're cute but how would i know if you wouldn't throw a 'potion' in there."
oh my god, she called me cute. he hoped you couldn't tell that he's now raditating with pure joy, his ears flushed a little. as for your joke, he was assuming a "potion" would be like poison, kazuha tried to reassure you, "you can trust me. if you don't like it, you can order something else and i'd throw a cookie on the house."
letting out an exhale, you questioned, "on the house? really..." you squinted at the namecard plaque. "... kazuha?"
she knows my name!!
"yes, really."
"if you say so... i like my drinks a tad bit sweet but not kid in a candy store sweet, you know? just something warm."
"okay, one mystery drink for a cute girl coming right up." he turned around after saying that, praying you didn't cringe like he did when he realized he just said that. peeking to the other side, you didn't!!! you were just as flustered as he was.
he quietly whispered to himself, "A WIN!!"
˚₊ ❄︎ (end of flashback; present time)
after hearing kazuha's side of the story, you get why he change his favorite season from autumn to winter. you had heard that before you even want to change your favorite season from (fav season) to winter. just kidding, luckily, your initial fav season has been winter so beat that kazuha!
"wait, heizou had a blind date and supposedly stood them up?" you asked as kazuha squinted to the side, trying to remember.
"yes, he did."
"oh my god, remember when i said that my blind date stood me up?"
"well, sorry to admit it, but im glad." you chuckled as he tried to explain himself. "'cause if he didn't, i wouldn't have had the most wonderful, out of this world, running out of words to say to describe you because your beauty if indescribable girlfriend and don't you dare call me corny for speaking my truth!"
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