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fuckyeahdindjarin · 1 year

Text

Butter

Joel Miller x F!Reader

{ Main Masterlist }

Rating: None

Summary: What if Joel doesn't forget to buy himself a cake for his birthday? But by the time he remembers, all the bakeries in his neighbourhood are closed - except yours.

Warnings: No outbreak AU, pure fluff, mentions of baking and food, meet cute, some sexual tension but very mild stuff compared to my other fics, single dad!Joel being a sexy menace, reader has a nickname related to her job, reader has an accent similar to Joel, very lightly edited, not my best work, but I'm in my writing for fun era 💁🏻‍♀️

Word count: 3.6k

Notes: It's here! This was an exercise in speed writing, and just putting words to paper without overthinking anything. I really enjoyed writing this sweet little piece, this is dedicated to @psychedelic-ink who has been the biggest cheerleader for this idea since day one. Happy birthday to our favourite single dad who never lived through a cordyceps outbreak ❤️

September 26, 2003 was supposed to be a good day.

It’s Friday, after all. Not that the weekend is relevant to you anymore, with Saturdays and Sundays being the busiest days for business. But you have a date for once tonight, and you’re determined to enjoy it.

If you can get the goddamn security shutter to close, that is.

Standing on your tiptoes, you pull futilely at the bottom of the metal shutter with both hands, but it refuses to budge. You lament the sweat seeping through the fabric of the nice dress you changed into, the hem reaching almost indecent heights on the back of your thighs where it’s climbed up. And you don’t have to look at your reflection to know that stress has already smudged the edges of the eyeliner you hurriedly painted on as soon as you got the last customer out the door.

You can be forgiven for not noticing the wash of yellow headlights over the windows of the shop front and the sound of rolling tyres as a truck pulls up on the curb outside the bakery, until a gravelly voice pipes up behind you alongside hurried footsteps.

‘Ma’am, please tell me you’re still open.’

You tap on the ‘Closed’ sign through the window without turning around, determined to wrangle the shutter into submission. ‘Bad luck buddy, come back tomorrow. We open at nine sharp.’

‘No I can’t, I’m so sorry, but I need a cake now.’

Curiosity turns your head, and over your shoulder, you find a broad-shouldered man in a dark tshirt and casual jeans standing a respectful four paces away. Under eyebrows sloping downwards in a pleading angle that matches the slant of his moustache, his warm and imploring eyes are on you.

‘I’m sorry, sir, but I really need to go,’ you say. ‘Can you give me a hand?’

‘Look, I’ll do you one better. I’ll fix the shutter for you for free - if you sell me a cake.’

You purse your lips, the prospect of saving on what looks like an inevitable repair bill tempting. ‘You can fix it?’

‘I’m a contractor,’ he replies, reaching into his back pocket to pull out a battered looking wallet. ‘Here’s my card, if you think I’m bluffin’.’

Miller & Associates is printed in bold across the top, and underneath, is presumably his name and cell number. Glancing up at him, you say, ‘Look, Mr. Miller, I really want to help, but I’m late for a date, and I’m all sold out of cakes today -’

‘I’ll take anything you got. Cupcakes, cookies, whatever you have left,’ he cuts in, then apologises in quick succession, one hand rubbing the back of his neck. ‘I’m sorry to be so pushy - I’m not, usually - but I promised my daughter I’d bring something home, and by the time I remembered, this is the only place I could think of. Please.’

You feel the exact moment your resolve crack, and then fold like a goddamn lawn chair. What can you say, this contractor really knows how to work those puppy eyes, and you can never say no to a man who refuses to let their kid down.

Especially when the man looks like this.

Shooting off a text to your date to push back your dinner plans, you nod towards the door. ‘Alright. C’mon in, Mr. Miller.’

‘Nice place you got here,’ he remarks politely, hovering by the entrance as the fluorescent lights flicker on, his manners impeccably southern.

‘You don’t have to flatter me, I’ve already let you in,’ you joke, lips quirking at the way he flusters. ‘But I appreciate it. You been here before?’

When he smiles, you notice the corners of his eyes crinkle charmingly. ‘No, but I know I’ll be comin’ back.’

‘I wasn’t lying when I said I was out of ready-made cakes,’ you tell him, holding the door open to the kitchen so he can come in after you. ‘But I have some cake layers in the fridge so I can put together something fairly quickly.’

He ducks his head in a manner that tells you he’s not used to demanding things, and protests, ‘I don’t want to put you out. I meant it, if you just have some cupcakes or somethin’ -’

‘Listen, you promised your daughter a cake, didn’t you?’ you interrupt.

He shrugs. ‘Well, yeah I did -’

‘I’m guessin’ it’s for a birthday?’

He nods sheepishly. ‘It is.’

‘Well, as a baker, ‘mfraid I can’t let a cakeless birthday happen on my watch, Mr. Miller,’ you insist, opening the fridge door with a flourish. ‘Let’s see what we have here. Cake for three, I assume?’

‘Two, actually.’

Hopefully you’re as discreet as you think you are when your eyes drop to his left hand - his fourth finger is conspicuously ringless.

Interesting.

You hum, considering the mismatched options in your inventory. ‘It’s gonna be a bit of a Frankenstein’s monster of a cake, if you don’t mind. How does chocolate and vanilla layers with cookies and cream frosting sound?’

‘Sounds perfect,’ he answers without skipping a beat. ‘Thank you, ma’am.’

You shake your head, hands full of cake rounds wrapped in cling film as you nudge the fridge close. ‘Please, call me Bri, Mr. Miller.’

‘And you can call me Joel,’ he says in return. ‘Is Bri short for somethin’?’

Laying the cakes on the work surface, you reply, ‘Yeah, Bri for brioche, like the bread. It's a silly nickname.’

The single dad surprises you with a low whistle. ‘Can’t say I saw that comin’.’

You grin. ‘You ain’t seen nothin’ yet, Joel.’

You don’t often have an audience while baking, and you find yourself talking Joel through the steps while you prep everything for assembly.

Swirling a spatula through the tub of buttercream you made earlier that day, you explain, ‘I just need to whip up some of this frosting so that it’s nice and soft for putting the cake together. You wanna help me break up some Oreos so we can make it cookies and cream?’

‘I’m all yours, chef,’ he says, one corner of his mouth curling into a teasing smile that has no business warming the apples of your cheek as it does. ‘Just tell me what to do.’

While your Kitchenaid whirrs to life, whipping air into the buttercream, Joel wields a rolling pin, smashing a generous helping of Oreos into crumbs in a Ziplock bag. The almost exaggerated care with which he moves speaks to inexperience in the kitchen, and you muse that either his kid makes up for it in that department, or they live off takeout.

Eventually, he picks up the bag and looks at you in a question. ‘I think I’m done?’

You smile and tap the lip of the mixing bowl. ‘That’s perfect. Why don’t you tip in the crumbs straight in here?’

Before you can step back to allow him space, Joel’s taken two strides towards you, and his arm brushes your shoulder when he lifts the bag and tilts the contents into the frosting. He’s warm and solid, and damnit, he smells good - like sawdust and sweat.

The thought comes to you unbidden - what a man.

There’s a lull, and only when you feel the weight of eyes on you do you realise that you missed his question.

‘Did you say somethin'?’ you squeak, embarrassed.

‘I said, is this ok?’ he repeats, nodding at the mixing bowl.

You nearly stumble over your words. ‘Yes, yes it’s perfect.’

He watches you closely, a touch of concern in his brown eyes. ‘You ok there, honey?’

‘Yup,’ you chirp, far too cheerfully. ‘Just need to mix it all up now -’

If you had your wits about you, you would stir in the crumbs first and set the machine on low. But this man somehow stole said wits by sheer proximity to you, and you accidentally start the Kitchenaid on high, an indignant yelp escaping you when Oreo dust flies aggressively out of the bowl along with a splatter of white buttercream that lands squarely on the front of your dark knit dress.

‘Oh shit!’ you cry out, frantically turning off the mixer. ‘Shit shit shit!’

Over your panicked mantra, Joel is calmness itself. ‘Hang on, honey, I gotcha.’

He makes a beeline towards the sink, grabbing a tea towel and wets it under the tap with a bit of dishwashing liquid. It all screams competent single dad, and you find yourself staring at his unfairly large hand, mapped with thick veins, holding out the damp towel for you to take.

‘Thanks,’ you stutter self-consciously, the tips of your ears hot while swiping at the stain. ‘That was a rookie mistake. I promise I’m actually a good baker.’

He gives you a wink to put you at ease. ‘Don’t worry, I believe you.’

Starting over, the mixer hums as it gently incorporates the Oreos until the buttercream is a speckled grey and doubled in volume. ‘Looks like it’s ready. You wanna taste, Joel?’

‘Sure,’ he says. ‘D’ya have a spoon or somethin’ for me?’

‘You can use your fingers,’ you reply, and it's too late to take it back.

You feel the back of your neck heating up when he shoots you a meaningful look, just a touch of mischief in the tilt of his lips.

‘Can I, now?’ he teases.

You try a nonchalant shrug that probably comes off as painfully awkward. ‘This batch is just for you, I won’t tell the health inspector if you don’t.’

Joel chuckles, his strong shoulders quaking. And so you watch, shamelessly, as he raises his right hand, index and middle fingers at the ready, before diving into the metal bowl, scooping up a generous dollop of buttercream. There’s a peek of his pink tongue when his plush lips part, and then he sucks his fingers into his mouth with a gratuitously loud moan, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.

When he turns to you with a pained expression on his face, maintaining eye contact all the while licking an errant streak of frosting off the side of his middle finger, you gape at him for a whole five seconds before you manage to unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth.

‘Good?’ you barely manage to squeak.

‘You betcha, honey,’ he declares, then adds, ‘Mind if I double dip?’

He doesn’t mean anything by it, you know it, but a hot flush runs through your body and you swallow thickly. ‘You can do whatever you want, cowboy.’

You don’t think you’re imagining the wicked glint in his answering stare - you’re getting yourself into trouble, and don’t you know it.

Clearing your throat, you attempt to thwart your mind's dangerous descent into the gutter by changing the subject. ‘So, I can do somethin’ really snazzy that I think your daughter would like - do you know what a piñata cake is?’

He shakes his head. ‘Sounds dangerous.’

‘Hardly,’ you chuckle. ‘It’s a cake filled with sprinkles, so when you cut into it, it’s a sprinkles surprise!’

He lets out a playful sigh of relief. ‘As long as there’s no whackin’ involved, it’s good by me.’

You gesture at him to follow you across the room. ‘And here’s the fun part - you get to choose the sprinkles.’

Joel whistles at the reveal of your compulsively organised sprinkles cabinet, each shelf sorted by colour, shape and size. He quips, ‘Is this what the inside of your brain looks like, honey?’

You grin. ‘Pretty much. What’s your daughter’s name?’

‘Sarah.’

‘What colour does Sarah like?’

‘Any and all shades of pink.’

‘I can work with that.’

Now that everything is ready and waiting on the work surface, you pull out a lazy Susan and plonk a cake board on top of it, dusting your hands dramatically. ‘Alright, Joel. Ready for the magic to happen?’

Making himself comfortable next to you, he leans on his elbows, and your eyes are immediately drawn to the way his tshirt stretches and strains over his back. ‘Go ahead, I’m ready to be impressed, honey.’

Filling a piping bag full of the cookies and cream buttercream, you ask, ‘You wanna get your hands dirty?’

He raises his palms in surrender. ‘I’ll leave it to you, I don’t want to make you any more late for your date.’

You’re used to working with much bigger cakes, so this one doesn’t take you long. With a cookie cutter, you carve out a small circle from each cake round, then you stack and fill the layers with buttercream. After loading the shaft in the middle with all manner of pink sprinkles, you stopper the top with the cake cut-outs.

‘How old is Sarah turning today?’ you ask conversationally while you spin the cake around, smoothing on the crumb coat.

Joel looks up, surprised. ‘Oh, it’s my birthday today, not hers. ‘

‘Wait, what?’ you cry, throwing your hands up. ‘I made this cake with Sarah in mind - it will literally be vomiting pink sprinkles!’

‘I’m a girl dad. I like pink,’ shrugs Joel easily.

You huff, using an icing smoother to make sure the buttercream is even all over the cake. ‘I would pop the cake into the freezer to firm up before adding a final layer of frosting if I had the time, but this will have to do.’

‘It looks great,’ Joel assures you as you put the finishing touches to the cake, with buttercream swirls all around the top and a final baptism of sprinkles.

‘There, all done. Lemme box it up for you and this bad boy is ready to go.’

‘Amazin’, thank you so much,’ he grins. ‘Please, lemme do the washin’ up while you’re at it.’

‘Oh, Joel, you can’t,’ you protest, but he’s already grabbed the mixing bowl and all the bits and bobs stained with buttercream. ‘You’re the birthday boy!’

‘Least I can do,’ he shoots back over his shoulder, already halfway to the sink.

‘Well no, you promised to fix the security shutter for me, remember?’ you call after him.

‘Damn, I was hopin’ you’d forgotten about that.’

Joel cleans up with a practised air, humming under his breath as he waits for the water to heat up and the soap to lather. You watch him from the corner of your eye while you secure the cake inside the box, throwing in a birthday candle for good measure. You’ve just tied a nice ribbon around the cardboard box when he puts away everything in the drying rack and wipes his hands dry.

‘Didn’t expect you to be good at that,’ you tease, moving towards the door.

‘Sexist much?’ he jokes, no real bite in his retort. Then by way of explanation, he tells you, ‘I work late, so Sarah usually cooks and I wash up afterwards.’

‘Sounds like you guys make a good team.’

Joel helps with the lights and locks the door, and you stand to one side when he grabs the security shutter and forces it into submission by brute force. You can’t help but stare when the bottom of his tshirt rides up, revealing a soft sliver of belly underneath, his biceps bulging and back rippling as the shutter is finally forced shut in a metallic ripple.

You give him a smile. ‘Well, happy birthday, Joel.’

‘Thanks again for the cake.’ He looks around, as if looking for your car, but the sidewalk is empty except for his truck. ‘How are you gettin’ to your date?’

‘I was just gonna call a taxi.’

‘No, you ain’t,’ he nods towards his ride. ‘C’mon, I’ll give you a lift.’

‘Oh, no, it’s late, and you should be getting back to Sarah -’

‘I spoiled your date, so please, let me,’ he insists, holding the door open on the passenger side. Hop in.’

Joel takes the cake off your hands and puts it in the backseat carefully, putting the seat belt over it while you climb in. Glancing over your shoulder, you see toolboxes and newspapers on the floor, and it smells like paint and wood dust.

‘Sorry it’s a bit messy, occupational hazard,’ he apologises as he straps himself in. ‘So, where are we goin’?’

‘Do you know the steakhouse on Third Street?’

‘Vaguely,’ he replies, pulling smoothly away from the curb. ‘It sounds fancy.’

‘You been?’

‘Nope, I barely have time to go anywhere nowadays. It seems like I’m only ever in bed, or at work, or in my truck.’

You turn to smile at him, admiring the way his his thick fingers around the top of the steering wheel, making it look so small. ‘I feel you. Small business owner, am I right?’

‘I hear ya,’ he shoots you a smile. ‘So - what’s the deal with tonight? First date?’

‘Fourth, actually.’

He wriggles his eyebrows suggestively. ‘Fourth date? You know what happens on a fourth date, honey.’

‘I don’t, actually. Tell me, what happens on a fourth date?’

He blows out his cheeks, and admits, ‘Honestly, I can’t tell ya. I haven’t been on a fourth date since 1991.’

You burst into laughter at his unexpected answer. ‘You’re such a dork, Joel Miller.’

When the truck rumbles to a stop outside the steakhouse ten minutes later, he looks at his watch and announces, ‘Here we are, only fifteen minutes late.’ Squinting through the windshield, he points at a man smoking outside, an impatient frown on his face. ‘That him?’

‘Yeah, that’s him,’ you nod, but you stay put in your seat, in no hurry to make a move.

Joel nods, tapping his tidily trimmed nails on the steering wheel. ‘So I’ll swing ‘round tomorrow after work with my toolbelt? ‘Round six thirty?’

‘A toolbelt? What a sight to look forward to,’ you rib, slowly reaching for the seatbelt and unbuckling it.

‘Hell yeah, it’s got a special clip for my Nokia and all,’ he adds mischievously.

'You must fend off the ladies by the dozen,' you tease.

'Daily,' he answers without skipping a beat.

You probably shouldn’t have, especially not with the guy who you’re supposed to be on a date with glaring daggers at you through the windshield. But there’s something cackling in the air between you and this man you just met not an hour ago, and the way the streetlight filters through the window, backlighting his messy curls and scraggly beard, that has you throwing caution to the proverbial wind.

Impulsively, you lean across the gear shift, your left hand finding purchase on his knee before pressing your lips to the side of his whiskered jaw, your kiss fitting right into that little heart-shaped patch on his beard.

You’re not sure who’s more taken aback, but you don’t have time to find out.

‘Happy birthday, Joel Miller.’

He smiles after you as you hop out of his truck.

You’ve just sold your last cupcake of the day when the bell over the bakery door rings. And sure enough, it’s Joel Miller crossing the threshold, right on the dot at six thirty.

‘Hey, Bri,’ he waves, hovering half-in and half-out of the shop, a slight awkwardness having set in overnight.

But it's ok, you're happy to pick up where you left off. Putting your hands on your waist and a cheeky grin, you quip, ‘Wow, you weren’t kidding about that toolbelt, huh?’

Your chest swells as you watch him thaw with an easy smile, and he banters back, ‘I’m a man of my word, honey. You ok with me gettin’ to work now?’

‘Yes, thank you. I’ll be cleanin’ up back in the kitchen, I’ll join you when I’m done.’

Joel shoots you a thumbs up. ‘Great. I’ll grab the ladder and get right to it.’

When you emerge fifteen minutes later, he’s on the fourth rung of the ladder, tinkering the rolling mechanism with a screwdriver and a studious frown on his brow. He looks like he’s wearing the same thing as yesterday - you can believe that he’s a man who buys the same tshirt in bulk - and he smiles at you when you duck out of the shop.

‘Did Sarah like the cake?’ you ask in casual conversation.

‘She went nuts over the piñata surprise,’ he replies. ‘And the cake was delicious, there were hardly any crumbs left when we were done with it. She says we’re definitely ordering a cake from you for her birthday.’

‘I like the sound of that.’

‘How was your evening?’ he asks, glancing down at you from his perch. ‘Did you find out what happens on a fourth date?’

You let out a dry laugh. ‘Yeah, I did, actually. He dumped me.’

Joel freezes, a scowl darkening his countenance. ‘Oh shit, what? Why?’

You shrug, leaning your weight on the ladder as you look at the ground. ‘I mean, I did show up an hour late in some other guy’s truck. And I guess probably shouldn’t have kissed you on the cheek right in front of him.’

You startle when Joel’s fingers slip under your chin, tilting your head up towards him. ‘It’s all my fault. I’m so sorry.’

‘Honestly, you don’t look that sorry, Joel Miller,’ you joke.

He cocks his head to one side. ‘Well, I can't lie, I think you deserve better than him.’

‘Do you now?’ you prompt. ‘Who do you have in mind?’

Joel peers at you from under long lashes with a half-smile that's almost shy. He dodges your question, and says instead, ‘I didn't mean to ruin your night, let me make it up to you, honey.’

‘How?’

Deftly, he climbs down the ladder, landing squarely on two booted feet, his presence comforting as he looms over you, his eyes warm. ‘Can I buy you dinner?’

‘Like - a date kind of dinner?’

‘Yeah, like a date,’ he nods.

You can’t help the dig. ‘And you were just sayin' you haven’t been on a date since...?’

He flashes you a smirk, and you shiver when his hand brushes your waist. ‘Since 1991. Tough sell, I know - but I thought I’d give it a shot.’

Running a finger along his sharp jawline, softened by the endearingly untidy beard, you have to bite your bottom lip to keep yourself from giving away too wide a grin. ‘Why, I think I have a good feelin’ about you, Joel Miller.’

Catching your wrist in his fingers, he presses a sweet kiss to your knuckles, the rough graze of his stubble chasing goosebumps across your skin as his eyes smile at you. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow then, honey.’

More notes: I hope you enjoyed this sweet little oneshot 🥰 I really leaned into the fluff and I have no regrets. Comments/reblogs/asks are much appreciated as always! I don't have plans for a second part right now, but a smutty follow-up is always a possibility...

The adorable dividers are by @firefly-graphics 👩🏻‍🍳

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller imagine #no outbreak au #joel miller oneshot #the last of us oneshot #fuckyeahshorts

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lady-ashfade · 12 days

Note

Can I place an order of Blueberry Pie with Villain Class 1-A. Please and Thank You.

Broken Shoes

´*: ･ﾟ⋆˒ Villain!Au!Class 1A x College!Waiter!Reader. (Reader doesn’t have pronouns in this)

WORDS: 2.1k

WARNINGS: Yandere!Behaviors, Everyone is in their 20s, Posted Late, Dark!Romance, Reader Is Just From America But Any Race, Villan Au, Non-Quirk Au, Is the reader is claimed any pronouns tell me so I can fix it.

Bakery event.

A/N: I got a idea from the requester of what they wanted since it has taken me so long, thankful so much for them!!

˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚ 🫐 🥧 ˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚

The first incident was when your shoe feel apart on your way home, the bottom coming undo and looked and sounded like a flip flop. It was rough because they had been your shoes for years, they had to give up sometime. But you didn’t have enough money to pay for a new pair. The only thrift store was a long ways away from where you live and you’d never have the extra money for train ride. So you did what you could…And tried to make it work again. With glue and your sewing kit and then had something to last you a few more weeks.

You set up a new jar in your kitchen by the window, next to the bigger blue jar with the labeled “computer”, while this one was pink and for shoes. You worked at a shitty diner in Japan, a American experience which was perfect since you moved here in your late teen years from the US. The day belonged to collage classes for you’re own business degree to work in more places and maybe start a chain of your own. And after you worked as long as you could to make it through life.

“Mornin’,” you greet your manager. The older woman smiled as she took the rag and whipped off the white counter, the lights from the screens hitting her back to make her pink outfit pop. Hana was the nicest woman you ever met, she was shorter then you with a plump body, her age showing in her skin but her face remained chubby and almost wrinkle free. After any day you had, you knew her warm smile could make you feel better.

While helping around you both chatted about your day and how it went, her more leaning towards your story while making short answers for her day. So, you told her all about school and even some things you learned and studied before customers began the walk through the doors, one after the other and so forth. The conversation died and you did your job.

“Enjoy your evening!” You shout as the last pair of people leave and you lock the doors behind them before exhaling as your body grows tired. The night had come to a end as the moon stood in the darken sky to shine just a bit of light on the streets. Not like they need it with the street lights and building lights.

“Hana, I’ll be in the bathroom.” You shout. Making your way to the bathroom your feet drag as the night hits you like a ton of bricks. The rush hour today was busier then it had been in a few weeks.

Hana was in the back to punch in all the things that happened while taking the money out of the cash register to count it. Her eyes trailed up to the metal door where the trashcans stayed after someone had knocked. It wasn’t un normal to her since she gave a few homeless people food when there was some left over, so she figured it would be them. Her feet took her to the door and her fingers unlocked the handle, before pushing it open with a bright smile.

“Kenji, how can I help you?” She spoke to nothing but air.

Hana blinked her eyes a few times before realizing no one was there, not a person in sight just a empty alleyway. Now this was strange. The knocking was loud and had to be made intentionally. The one thing that made sense of it was when she looked down there was a box with a bow.

Hana brought it to the main room and set it on the counter, just in time for you to exit the bathroom with a sour look on your face. “You got a present.” She exclaimed.

As you examined the box you saw a card attached,

“To: Y/n.

Hope you can find this helpful, thank you for the amazing service.”

The first thought you had was, who could have sent it, before even opening the box. There was a older couple who commented on your shoes but they didn’t seem like the type, and a man in a suit also had his opinions on your attire though he seemed too stingy for that. But you stopped thinking to see what was inside and hoped it wasn’t to grand.

When your eyes hit the shoes they widened a bit, they were perfect. They didn’t look too expensive but brand new with no stains on them or nothing. They looked good to work in, to jog, and to do anything you wanted.

“I bet it was that yellow haired man,” Hana commented out of the blue. You turn your head and tilted it to the side, who was she talking about? You’ve seen so many customers with yellow hair…

“Don’t give me that look dear. The cute one who always stares at you, and never complains and has you talking for hours.” you blink a few times before placing a face to the scenario.

Denki? Yeah, you think that’s his name. He always comes in every other Thursday with the same order, same questions and never wants you to leave his table. He was a sweet man, but flirtatious and sometimes you think you’ve seen him before but never have a clue. Today he came in just as before, made a few flirty jokes that you played along to, and had to rush off since it was a full diner.

“Hmm, maybe. I’ll just have to wait and see if they reveal themselves.” You hummed before going back to cleaning.

That wasn’t the only time random gifts showed up.

Each couple of weeks a new one popped up out of the blue. You’d be in the library and looking of books to help your course studies but find non, or even looking them up on the computer and find out they are too expensive to buy on your own. Then, they show up where you sit each day in classes. No one would look your way, no one was suspicious. It wasn’t just school things, but it was the things you see in windows. You’d see something pretty, look at it and imagining wearing it, then walk away knowing your wallet couldn’t handle it. Your house started to be filled with things you didn’t even buy.

Weeks of things being left you started to grow more and more worried, things you didn’t speak about. And things arriving at your door step. The last thing that made you freak out completely was a computer, the best money could buy and the note made you break. “Ditch the jar, we’ve got it covered.” Who the hell knew about the jars you had? No one did, not even Hana knew because you knew she’d give you money. Someone knew where you lived- someone sent a gifted, someone looked into your apartment or went in to see the jars.

“We’ve got it covered.” Those words stuck into your head every day after.

The blinds to your apartment now remind closed, you took the money you were saving for a computer and got extra locks for your windows. And you never took the gifts that arrived anymore. If it was at class, you’d leave them, if they came to your door you’d say they got the wrong person, if it came to your work the dumpster ate it.

Soon the gifts came to a stop. Nothing show up anymore and you felt relief, like you could breath without worrying about being watched. You stoped looking around the place for suspicious activity, your life went back to normal — Shitty, but normal.

Just as you suspected — Things went wrong for the last time.

Nosies woke you up from sleep, you had been too tired to notice anything or actually think about your actions. So you went out of your bedroom towards the noise, no plan, no worries about your life, but tired and wanting it to end. So as you turn the corner of the hall you hear hushed voices.

“Dumbass— Shut up, you’re making too much noise.” Someone, with a deeper and more grit to their voice spoke. They sounded angry…Like a man you once met on a bus.

Someone whined in response. “Don’t be mean to him Kacchan, and you’re being equally as loud. Now, everyone quiet and lets get our darling and head out.” That voice was strange to you, it was high pitched and loving but there was something else to it.

A little bit of awakening hit you and you started to look around the hall for anything of use. Wait, everyone? — That means there are more people then the two who spoke. The only thing you had that you could hit somebody with was a umbrella but you had to make do.

So, you grab ahold of the handle and hold it like a bat, then go sprinting to the doorway and popping out to surprise who ever was there.

You probably should have thought of more threatening words….

“I don’t have much!! If you’re here to rob me you’ve chosen poorly, but if anyone touches my computer you’re dying.” and like that, you point at the people in front of your umbrella-bat.

Your mind acted so quickly that it just took in everyone standing in front of you. People you have met before. The man from the train with a darken snarl that’s the same.. Denki, the guy who flirts with you at work. Another man who is always nice and friendly when he enters your work, Izuku?

“Hey honey!” A squealing voice takes your widen eyes off the green haired man. The woman who spoke was someone who you’ve talk to at school, one of the pretty girls that sit below you, Mina Ashido.

“Wha… What are you all doing in my apartment?” Your arms held up the umbrella and body still stiffened and alert.

“Don’t worry, we aren’t here to hurt you,” Izuku smiles and walks aloug your kitchen table, “and definitely not here to rob you, most of your things, expensive things, came from us.” he slides the computer along the table towards you. It started to make a bit of sense of how you’ve been getting everything.

Denki and Izuku know where you worked and gave you the shoes, they had both been in the diner that day. Mina had given you the books you looked at in the library and saw were too expensive. And the mean blonde had saw were you get off of the bus. They must have all been following you.

“What do you want then?” You backed away from them. Your eyebrows frown and arms began to tremble in heightened fear and adrenaline of your life being threatened.

“We want you, sweet thing,” the rough one spoke and the nickname sounded strange from his mouth. “The question is,” he stepped closer as your inched backwards, starting a game of chase.

“Are you gonna’ make this easy or not?”

You hummed in fear of what’s to come and wanted to run. Your body was almost about to move before a warm hand covered your mouth and made you scream and wiggle against the chest that was pressed against your back.

“I told you not to bring weapons,” the person behind you snapped at the others, making them all roll their eyes.

“I wasn’t going to hurt them!” Mina shouted.

“The gun was for looks, had to look badass for my babe.” Denki smirked.

“I wouldn’t hurt them badly, my knife would only stab their horrible neighbors.” Izuku laughed.

“And why would I listen to you, old man?”

A sharp pain in your neck shot throughout your body as your limbs began to numb up almost immediately. Your vocal cords wouldn’t make any sound when you wanted to scream, your legs couldn’t run, there was no fighting back. All you could do was keep your eyes open for as long as you could while being picked up.

A older man had you placed in his arms. Dark long hair with gray at the roots, the same for his beard. He looked tired but deadly with the glare he gave them. You knew this man. He was a teacher in the lecture room beside yours, the same man you greeted each morning — The man you served coffee to on Saturday mornings.

“You know damn well what I’ll do if you hurt them, if anyone of you spoiled brats hurt them.” His voice started to get drowned out by ringing in your ears. You wanted to listen and to stay away but your eyes just felt too heavy to go on….

There wasn’t just five of them waiting for you to wake up again, but 20 villains going insane for you.

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syoddeye · 8 months

Text

the reward

ceo!price x reader / ~2.5k words

This can be considered the first half of part 4 of Business or Pleasure? my lil ceo!price x reader side project. Please enjoy! 🖤

Parts 1, 2, and 3

CW: hinted possessiveness, power imbalance, alcohol

The reward was never a choice. Cute, in hindsight, how you thought it was and politely declined to exit the car.

Mr. Price squashed your resolve with one look. Both of his eyebrows raised in an expression of almost tired disbelief, mouth a firm line, and a disapproving sound pushing through it. "Hmm. You sure? Store's open just for us, y'really going to make them stay on longer?"

Sufficiently guilt-tripped, you concede.

You expect the pair of sales associates to be miffed, all tight smiles and wringing hands, for working past posted hours. They are not. Quite the opposite. It makes you wonder the true reach of the man beside you.

John ushers you past the display of tote bags in the front of the store.

You try to protest. "But they're the most useful type here. The others are impractical."

You try to reason. "I can use it for work. For travel. See, my laptop will fit."

You want something closer to the reliable carry-all you currently own. He clicks his tongue as if you are an unruly pet, affectionately scolding. "You're not walking out of here 'til you pick something impractical. Think of it as an indulgence."

You are left to reluctantly marvel at the rows of clutches and handbags. They sit under warm, glowing lights designed to underscore the soft luster of their leather. The kind of brand to hide the price tags, you silently make estimates as you peruse. Just one could pay two month's rent.

A sales associate sidles up when you linger too long near a pinkish-gray, compact handbag. Her voice is low and bubbly, explaining the history of the silhouette and model, the leather and detailing. She shows the optional shoulder strap, threads it over your side, and insists you look in the mirror. Feels funny using a full-body mirror for an accessory, but it does make you like it more. A nicer outfit and you could pass for a real customer.

You meet John's gaze in the reflection. Comfortably settled in one of the shop's armchairs, he smiles languorously and nods.

Before you know it, John offers a shiny metal card to the associate, and you walk out of the store with a four-digit handbag.

In the car, it's as if nothing happened. John returns to his phone and padfolio, all business, and you sit slightly dumbfounded cradling a shopping bag. Whiplash does not even begin to cover the feeling.

He likes you, has to. Men, no matter how wealthy, do not spend this amount of money on people they do not care for. It is not your experience, at least. The gift is troubling, though. What precisely does it mean? What did drinks mean? What does his requisitioning you from Kyle mean? You've seen this show before, and it never ends well.

When the car pulls onto your street, it is fuel on the fire. Of course, John has access to employee information; you try not to dwell on the fact he shouldn't use it; there are policies against that. Clearly, he is not one for rules.

When Alex opens your door, John is on the phone, looking out his window. You make a split-second decision. You gather your things, murmur a goodbye, and then climb out of the car. Locking eyes with the bodyguard, you take advantage of his friendliness and mirror his warm energy. It works. Distracted, he does not notice the shopping bag left at the foot of your seat.

But John does. He calls your name as you attempt to distance yourself from the car, stopping you in your tracks.

"Forgetting something?"

Flustered and foiled, you retrieve the shopping bag. He smiles amusedly from his seat.

"Email me the notes. See you Monday, love."

"You're hiding something."

"Jordan, please. I've barely touched my coffee."

"There's got to be more to it," Jordan whispers excitedly over the edge of your desk, ignoring your withering look.

You do not lift your gaze from the packed, colorful calendar on the screen. "Like I told you over text and FaceTime, that's it. Mr. Price only needed me for notes for a partner meeting. He was impressed by the summary I wrote up for Kyle about Project Intercontinental."

As if summoned, a message pops up on screen.

kgarrick - online

> Need to speak with you about meeting the technology directors.

What meeting? He's already met with them this quarter. Nevertheless, you stand and smooth your skirt. "Boss man needs me, talk later?"

The other woman huffs. "Yeah, yeah. Talk later."

You slip into Kyle's office and shut the door. "What's this about the tech directors?"

Kyle smiles, but it does not quite reach his eyes. He gestures to the padded lounge chair across his desk. "Please."

Pins and needles. This was not about the directors.

"O…kay." You sink into the chair, back straight as a board.

He takes a moment to lean forward on his desk, elbows resting on the surface, one hand rubbing the knuckles of the other. "I understand John took you to meet with Graves."

"Yes, I was under the impression you knew." The fear that Price possibly lied about that instantly surfaces.

"I knew, told him it was fine. I'm curious about your first impression.

So that's it. Kyle wants to know more about the new contractor. You relax a bit and recall the sportive, if not roguish American. "Oh. Well, he is certainly different. I am curious if his company's style will align with ours, given how–"

Kyle raises a hand to stop you, and his smile is almost pained. "No, sorry, I meant John."

Your eyes widen a little in surprise. Crossing your legs, you force your fingers to lace around a knee. "I see. Um, he's...Assertive."

It prompts a snort of laughter, seemingly breaking Kyle's odd nervousness. "Sorry, go on."

Pursing your lips a moment, you tread carefully. "Perhaps 'confident' is the better term," It isn't. It is kinder. "Strategic and intelligent." Strategic in how he basically used you and intelligent but clueless with office equipment. You think to tag on 'generous', but rather not be forced to explain.

Kyle chuckles, and his grin slowly returns to an uncertain curve. "Did he talk to you much?"

Yes and no. Yet, what was the correct response? 'Yes, Kyle, and he admitted to using me as the adult equivalent of a ring of keys to a toddler or monkey to gauge Mr. Graves's attentiveness. Oh, and this was after he described my clothing in detail over the phone to an unknown party. Did I mention the five thousand pound gift back at my flat?' Complete honesty was out of the question.

"He did not ignore me. We had a polite conversation."

"Did he say anything about me? Ask?"

You smirk. "Only that you gave him your blessing."

The spot of levity is lost on him. Your smirk fades.

Kyle almost looks worried. "And he…He didn't…"

Your face heats. What does he know? Does he know about drinks? The message? The handbag? The conversation teeters into minefield territory. You play dumb. Best to let him get out with it. "What?"

"He didn't ask you to move over to his desk full-time?"

Relief floods your worried nerves, quelling the fretful thing in your chest. You understand now. Kyle doesn't want to lose his assistant. Your smile nearly splits your face. "No, he did not."

The man slumps some and chuckles. "Excellent. Had me worried. I don't think either of us could refuse if he asked, y'know."

That is a discomforting piece of knowledge.

"I still would," You reassure, lean forward, and tap the surface of his desk. "Now. Was that all? I don't know about you, but I've got work to do."

He shakes his head. "No, but you tell me if he tries to snipe you, yeah?"

The earnestness throws you, despite how accustomed you've grown to it during your tenure. It makes keeping this thing with Price a secret all the more difficult.

"Of course. Now. Message me when you decide on lunch, dates for the Mexico trip, and what you'd like to give me for my fifth anniversary since I know you've already forgotten."

"Shit. That's–?"

"Next Monday."

"Pick out something nice."

And you will. Just not Moynat nice.

The rest of Monday keeps you hellishly occupied. Your head's above water for the first time in the day, and it's nearly quitting time. Kyle's off at his last appointment, some check-in meeting on tax season preparations, when you power off your desktop. You slip on your coat, pack your bag, and discreetly slip off to the elevators. There's time to beat the evening rush.

The elevator arrives from a higher floor and for a moment, you briefly consider diving out of view. You come face-to-face with Alex and behind him, Mr. Price. Both of their faces shift for different reasons.

"Miss," Alex drawls.

You give the bodyguard a rigid smile, then glance at your employer.

"Going down?"

"I can–"

Alex holds the elevator doors open when they try to close, his smile warm and clueless. "C'mon in."

Price speaks when the car starts to descend. "You're not using your new bag."

Your eyes flick to Alex's back then focus on the LED panel indicating the floor. It feels inappropriate to talk about it in front of the other man, despite his presence on the 'errand'.

"I can't."

"Something wrong with it?"

"Yes, it's too nice."

Price chuckles and Alex's shoulders shudder in a clear attempt to suppress a laugh.

"I fail to see how that's a problem."

"Mr. Price, while my compensation is fair," You continue carefully, still avoiding looking at him. "It is not within my budget to afford luxury brands. If I turn up to the office with that nice of a bag, all of a sudden, people would talk. And besides, it's my bag, and I decided it is not for work."

You don't miss how he ignores the first part of your answer. "What's it for, then?"

"Socializing."

Do not look at him. Oh, what you would do for the elevator to stop.

"Socializing," He repeats, elongating the word as if it's in a foreign language. "Dates?"

He has to be deliberately trying to get under your skin.

"Yes," A single word. A confirmation and a warning.

"Go on many of those?"

Even Alex tenses, back muscles tightening beneath his suit jacket. Your head finally snaps toward Price, who, irritatingly, wears a controlled smile.

"Yes," You answer again and push through the absurd embarrassment. "My fair share."

He hums. "Your anniversary with us is next Monday, yeah?"

The sudden change in topic does not bode well. "Yes, sir."

"You free Friday?"

The lie is out of your mouth before you can stop yourself. "I have a date this Friday." Whatever this baffling situation is between you, it needs to stop. Should've all the way back at the malfunctioning copier. He does not need to know your 'date' is celebratory drinks with Jordan. You just need him to drop it.

It's as if the elevator car turns into an icebox. The mirth bleeds from Price's gaze, but his smile remains. "And Saturday?"

There is a tacit warning in his tone. In the slight turn of Alex's head in your periphery. Your mouth dries, and you swallow hard.

"I'm free on Saturday."

The lights come back on in his eyes, and miraculously, the car reaches the lobby. "Wonderful to hear. Pick you up at eight."

Alex steps aside to let you out.

"Have a good evening, miss," the bodyguard says softly as you pass before hitting the number for your office's floor to head back upstairs.

You meet eyes with Price as the doors close, and a shiver runs down your spine. It's unsettling. You can't tell if it was good or bad.

Thankfully, you do not run into Mr. Price the rest of the week. You take care not to. If Kyle suspects something from your excuses to sit out on meetings, avoiding any whiffs of the CEO, he says nothing. When you leave on Friday to meet Jordan, you take the stairs all the way down to the lobby and claim exercise. She wrinkles her nose at the idea of trekking a half hour away to a pub closer to yours, but after the first two rounds, she forgets her griping.

And after four rounds, you forget yourself. You slip up.

Giggling, you sip your gin and tonic, poking at the lime wedge. "The bartender reminds me of the place I went to with John–"

The way Jordan's face lights up makes you try to backpedal, but it's too late.

Her voice slurs some, part alcohol and part explosive excitement. "Waitwaitwait. John? Like capital 'J' John? Not my John? What place? When? Whatdoyoumean?!"

Through no small amount of lovable torment, she coaxes the story out. It is heavily redacted despite your inebriation, but now she knows. And she is not known for her tight-lippedness.

"Swear on your mother, you won't breathe a word."

"I swear."

"'Cause I'll tell MacTavish you steal–"

"I swear. Now. What are you going to wear for your date?"

Only then does it hit you: you know nothing about this…'date'. If it's anything like the other places you've accompanied him, it's somewhere beyond your wallet and comprehension.

Jordan might as well sit on your shoulder, the devil. "Message him. Ask. Bet it won't matter by the end of the evening."

"Shut it, I'm not gonna message him."

Yet, on the ride home in the taxi, you do. It takes a few tries, with the drunkenness making everything fuzzy and sluggish.

johnprice - invisible

Hi, what should i wear tomorrow?

It's late. You don't expect a reply. The phone nearly launches out of your hand when he swiftly messages back.

> Something nice. I liked the green dress.

The dress from the Christmas party. He remembered. Clearly, it made an impression, given his current fascination. Before you can respond, he messages again.

> Date go poorly?

> Might want to take this to text, love. Don't want to get chewed out for misuse of company resources.

He sends his personal number like it's nothing. Asks about your 'date' like it's nothing. Infuriatingly confusing man. Still, you save his contact information and switch platforms. You swear it's the gin moving your fingers, the liquid puppeteer.

Only texting because I wouldn't want to get you in trouble sir

And my date was wonderful

Were you possessed by a flirtatious spirit between the bar and cab?

> I wouldn't be the one getting into trouble.

Price is fishing for it. You oblige him.

What if I'm the trouble

It takes two, no, three minutes for him to reply. Worrying your lip, you think you've gone and royally fucked yourself now. Pushed the envelope too far, flew too close to the sun, all the turns of phrase. Then those three dots appear. You've really done it now.

> I know just what to do with you.

#call of duty #john price #captain john price #captain price #price x you #price x reader #john price x you #john price x reader #john price x female reader #captain john price x reader #captain john price x female reader #captain john price x you #price x female reader #cod fanfic #cod fic #ceo!john price

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potatoplace · 22 days

Text

You Can Have It - Chapter 2

Alpha!Feysand x Omega!Reader

chapter 1 | chapter 3 | series masterlist

Story Summary: You've been a baker for 75 years, and are finally moving on from the Winter Court to the City of Velaris to start your own bakery after your grandmother passes. After your grand opening, the High Lord and Lady of Night become daily visitors to your bakery for months, every day having your most popular pastry- one that increases fertility for a short time. All the while, the two alphas want nothing more than to call themselves yours.

Warnings: A/B/O Dynamics, mentions of sex toys, I really don't think there's anything else?

Words: ~7.8k

Author's Note: it's here! I struggled a lot to get writing with this chapter, I think it's because there's so much I want to happen! Things should start moving a bit quicker after this chapter, were done with most of the OC introductions (just lil friendos for reader to have outside of the inner circle~). Hopefully in the next chapter reader will meet Rhys and Feyre :)

18+ only pls

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

You had been reading for a couple of hours before Mor returned to the inn, busting into your room as soon as you opened the door at her frantic knocks.

“I brought dinner!” Mor squealed as she set a bag onto the table in the middle of the room. “I went to Sevenda’s and got my favorite of hers, it’s this delicious pesto chicken pasta with broccoli in it, I think you’ll love it! We just have to make sure to take the bowls back tomorrow, Sevenda made me promise and I’ve forgotten a couple of times already,” Mor said sheepishly, a grin on her face. She sat down and began pulling out the takeaway dishes along with napkins and utensils.

You sat down in the other chair, gladly taking your share of the heavenly smelling food and digging in. Mor followed suit, and the two of you ate happily in a comfortable silence for a moment.

“So, were you able to set up a meeting with Auric already?” You asked Mor before taking another bite- it tasted even more amazing than it smelled.

Mor nodded. “Yes, he agreed to tomorrow at two o’clock at this cute little café just a couple of blocks down from here. He mainly wants to know your plans for the land before finalizing the sale. Auric’s family has owned the land since Velaris was founded, and since he doesn’t have any children he just wants to make sure it’s a business with good intentions, I think.”

“That makes sense, I would probably do the same in his position.”

“Agreed. I think he’ll find a cozy bakery to be a perfect fit, he ran a custom paint and supply store once he took over, and I believe it was an apothecary before that.”

You smile softly at the knowledge that your bakery will be on land with such a long history, one that must have made so many people happy. “The apothecary part will be somewhat carried on with my bakery, I have a few different pastries with special herbs in them to give different effects to the person that eats it. I have one that was very popular in the Winter Court, it helps to boost fertility. We started having a greater amount of births around every major holiday, that’s when I would bake the most of them,” you gushed, always happy to talk about your baking.

“Really? Oh, that will be lovely! Since the war, everyone in Velaris has had their eyes turned to the future, and it seems almost everyone wants to have children nowadays. Once word gets around, you’d best be ready for constant business for that pastry alone.” Mor’s words instilled confidence in you, something that you needed every so often to be sure you’re making the right choices.

A half hour later, Mor stood from her chair and began packing up the dishes. Before she left, she pulled a small metal card from her pocket and handed it to you. “This is your bank card, you’ll need it to make any purchases within Velaris. Kallias and Viviane had me set up an account for you and deposit your farewell bonus. Ten thousand for every year you worked for them, a total of 700,000 gold marks.”

“700,000?!” You asked in a frantic tone. That was to much- far, far too much. “That- they must have made a mistake. That’s a ridiculous amount of gold!”

Mor only smiled at you as she answered, “No, they were very specific about the amount. They said if you were panicking to tell you that five thousand every year was for your grandmother, and five thousand was for you. And to tell you that there is no way to convince them to take any of it back, so don’t attempt.” Mor’s smile turned to a grin when you stayed silent, still processing the immense wealth that you now possess. “I’ll be here a bit before two tomorrow to show you to the café for your meeting,” she said as she left your room, bag full of empty dishes in her hand.

“Thank you, Mor. For everything you’ve done today.”

One more bright, sunshine filled smile. “You’re welcome, Y/N. It’s no problem, you’ve been lovely to get to know.”

You return her smile, and shut the door when she is out of sight. Standing alone in your hotel room, you suddenly feel the weight of your day crashing into your shoulders. You set your new bank card on the table, the weight of its wealth too heavy at the moment.

You made your way into the bathroom, carefully removing your dress from your body to not snag your wings on the fabric. Then you set to drawing the bath- luckily, it was fully enchanted with plumbing, allowing for hot water to fill the tub.

It was a bit smaller than you were used to, not quite the right size to fit a winged body, but it would do just fine until you could have your own custom tub made for your apartment.

As soon as the tub was filled, you sank into the warm water, keeping your wings out of the water for tonight- too much of a hassle to dry with how tired you are already.

You let the steam relax you, sinking into a soft, relaxed state of mind. It drifted to your grandmother- she had died today, but you weren’t devastated. She had been in pain the past thirty six years, caused by the curse Amarantha had put upon her. Your grandmother had accidentally served burned pastries to the revel, one making its way to Amarantha herself. As Nanna’s punishment, the evil queen had cursed her blood to burn away slowly until she eventually passed.

But she was in peace now- able to move on to the next life, hopefully one that’s happier, less filled with psychotic fae.

And here- here, you could believe that. You’d seen so many different kinds of fae today, more than you’d seen at once Under the Mountain. Every one of them got along, there was only minor haggling and bickering to disrupt the peace. Besides that, everyone had sounded happy, unburdened.

It was nice.

The Winter Court, even six years after Amarantha’s fall, was still struggling to find the same freeness that this city radiated.

Your grandmother would have loved it here, the two Palaces dedicated to food stuffs alone might have convinced her to move here.

You would love it twice as much, just for her. She had always wanted you to live a full life, one of joy, hopefully with an alpha and a family of any size. She had been an omega as well, understanding that need, that overwhelming desire to have a family, an alpha that loves you.

When you presented, your mother and father had already passed, taken by a brutal pneumonia that had overtaken most of your village. Your grandmother had been the only family left to teach you, and she had done all she could to prepare you for your secondary sex and all that came with it.

You had yet to take an alpha, ever. During your few heats before being trapped Under the Mountain, you had taken a beta as your lover, trusting him enough to help you through them.

And Under the Mountain… Well, you were lucky enough to have been relegated to the kitchens at all times besides during your grandmother’s punishment. No alphas had been allowed to work at kitchen staff, so you were kept relatively hidden during your heats, though they had been less frequent due to the stress, possibly even from the magic sucked from your body.

Now, though, they had returned in full force, three months apart and stronger than ever. Viviane had been kind enough to show you to the small shop dedicated to sex toys in the square of the capital city, some of them designed to mimic a knot.

The toy you had gotten that day had seen you through your last six years of heats, along with a special blend of herbs your grandmother had created that lessened the symptoms to a close to manageable level.

Now, though, in a new city? Maybe you could find an alpha for yourself, as well as follow your lifelong dream. You let yourself drift off and think about what your alpha might be like as you washed your body.

As soon as you were clean, you got out and dried yourself off. You wrapped yourself in the towel and padded into the bedroom once more, finally ready to unpack your things.

It went quickly enough, you hung up your dresses and put away your romance novels and cookbooks. One of them was your grandmother’s entire catalog of recipes, all of her tricks to making any recipe a bit easier. It was your most prized possession, your own catalog a close second.

Your bags were empty now, and you placed them at the bottom of the wardrobe, along with your pair of extra boots.

All alone. A new city.

You crawled into your bed after putting on your favorite nightgown, long sleeved and reaching your calves in a blue so light it’s nearly white, and a scooped back allowing for your wings to remind untouched by fabric.

The sheets on the bed are soft, and you bury your face in them for a moment, reveling in the feeling of them on your skin. A gentle huff leaves your mouth, and you turn your head to look out the window, to where it’s snowing.

You’ll be sad when the snow is gone, but you can’t deny that you’re excited to see the other seasons come and go as they do outside of Winter.

And your bakery- you wonder how that will change throughout the seasons. Different pastries, outdoor seating, seasonal themes- would you be able to make it snow inside during winter?

You drifted off to different imaginings of your new business, new home as well as you’ll be building an apartment above the bakery itself.

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

You awoke the next morning to the winter sun shining into your eyes. You stretched for a moment, then got up from your bed, and walked over to the doors leading to your balcony and stepped through them. Outside, the snow had stopped falling overnight, and now looked to be around five inches deep.

That wasn’t bad, not bad at all. This time in Winter there would be nights with a foot or more of snowfall. It looked to be about ten in the morning- that would be more than enough time to go and grab some breakfast, and maybe shop around a little bit.

You quickly pulled on a pair of thick grey wool tights after removing your nightgown, then slipped into your thickest winter dress, making sure to get all of the buttons into their holes to make the fabric wrap snugly around the base of your wings to protect the skin beneath. The dress, made of thick wool with a silvery fabric layered over the top, was one that you didn’t wear too often, as you didn’t tend to venture outside of the High Lord’s palace often when it snowed heavily. Your wings, even after living in Winter for the first twenty five years of your life and the past six, were still sensitive to the cold at times, so you preferred to stay inside during most of the heavy snow season.

This dress keeps the rest of you warm and cozy, and you want breakfast, so you’ll risk your wings feeling a bit chilled.

You pulled on your boots that nearly reach your knees and lace them up quickly, your stomach’s loud growl making your fingers move faster. Then you throw on your scarf, hat, and mittens, taking care to slip your bank card into your right mitten for safe keeping, and then you’re out the door, locking int behind you and bounding down the stairs.

“Good morning, Y/N,” Druana said from behind the counter as you breezed past her, making your way to the door.

“Good morning, Druana!” You replied enthusiastically. “I’ll see you in a little bit, I’m going to explore the city on my own for a while.”

“Have a good time, and be careful in the snow. It gets slippery on the stones beneath quickly,” Druana warned as you opened the door and slipped through it.

“Thank you!”

And then you were in the crisp winter breeze, breathing in deep lungfuls of the clean, snow scented air. You’ll definitely miss this once the season slips into spring, but you’re here now.

And it’s beautiful.

The snow has iced the roofs of the buildings around you perfectly, and everything looks like a little gingerbread town. You made your way through the streets slowly, following the delicious scent of cinnamon, sugar, and coffee that you picked up.

Soon, you were at an adorable café, decorated with soft pastels inside and out, primarily pink. And you could tell that inside there was a cinnamon coffee cake and coffee to go with it, one of your favorite breakfasts- just perfect for your first official morning in a new home.

You entered the building, spotting a slim high fae beta at the counter in the back.

“Good morning,” she chirped cheerily at you as you made your way to the counter.

“Good morning,” you responded, already looking over the display of baked goods she had out. “I’ll have a slice of that cinnamon coffee cake,” you said, pointing to the perfect looking coffee cake. You then looked behind the other fae, taking in the coffee brewing equipment. “And a coffee with a bit of cream in it, please.”

“Of course,” the other fae said, grabbing your order in a couple of minutes, sliding a plate and a mug over to you after you’d slid your mittens off. “That will be two gold marks,” she said, and you handed over your bank card, hoping that you weren’t doing this wrong. The fae opened up a ledger, and pressed your card against it. “Alright, here’s that back. You can take a seat wherever you like, and just bring the dishes up to the counter when you’re done,” she said softly as she handed you the card back.

“Thank you,” you said with a smile. You grabbed your items, and sat at the table right in front of a window looking out onto the street you’d just come in from.

Both the cake and the coffee were delicious, warming your insides nicely as you sat and watched people go by, the city slowly waking as you ate, a few customers walking in as you did. You returned the dishes to the front, smiling at the pretty fae running the café. “Thank you, it was absolutely delightful! Would you happen to know the way to a bookstore near here?” You asked a bit shyly.

“New to town?” The fae asked, and you nodded your head in confirmation. “If you go to the right and head down five buildings, take a left and then in two more buildings you’ll be at Gina’s bookstore- she’s very nice, and loves meeting new people.”

“Thank you so much, I’ll probably see you again soon. My name is Y/N, by the way,” you said.

“My name is Jayla, it’s nice to meet you Y/N. And it’s no problem, I’ll see you again!” The fae said cheerily.

You followed her instructions well, and within a few minutes you were shaking the snow off of your boots and dress and walking into the cozy bookstore. There were rows and rows of shelves extending into the back of the store greeting you, and when you looked to your left there was a counter with a green skinned fae behind it. Further down from the counter, there was a small sitting area in front of a fireplace- a roaring fire already blazing inside.

“Welcome in!” The fae said with a warm smile as she looked to you, standing just inside the now closed door. “My name is Gina, I’m happy to help you find anything, or you can browse around for a bit.”

You moved closer to her, taking off your mittens and tucking your bank card into the collar of your dress as you did so. “My name is Y/N, I was wondering if you had any romance novels?” You asked, feeling a bit shy at the request, especially once the alpha’s scent washed over you.

She probably thinks I’m some silly romance obsessed omega now, you thought to yourself.

“Ah! Another romance lover! Right this way, I’ll show you some of my favorites too, if that’s alright,” Gina exclaimed as she quickly made her way over to you and grabbed your hand, leading you through the rows of books to the middle of the store.

“Right in the heart of the store is where I keep my favorite genre,” Gina said as she pulled a book from one of the shelves. “And this is my favorite romance series! It’s called Healer of Time, it’s about this omega high fae from the Dawn Court. She has these really strong healing powers, and she somehow ends up traveling back and forth between current time and three hundred years ago, and has to choose between two fantastically hot alphas, one from each timeline. It’s just perfect, and I’ve helped make the series all the rage in Velaris!”

She handed the book over to you, which you eagerly accepted. That sounded like the best blend of romance and adventure to you. “How many books are there on the series?”

“Nine so far, but the author puts out a new one every year or so, thank the Mother!” Gina responded, pointing out the other eight books for you.

“Wow, that’s a pretty good turn around. I honestly think I’ll get the first four today! It sounds like a really good read.”

Gina grins widely at you, and her excitement is too contagious to not smile back. “I’ll take these up to the front for you, but if you have any more questions feel free to come up and ask me!” Gina took the book from your hand and pulled three more off of the shelf.

“Do you happen to have any cookbooks?”

“Of course, they’re near the front, off to the right in the row second closest to the wall Y/N.”

You make your way over to the area, and quickly spot the section dedicated to cooking and baking. One catches your eye, titled Night Court Favorites, with a beautiful illustration of a moonlit picnic on the front. On the back, it promised the recipes for the past three millennium of Night Court nobility’s favorite dishes. Probably as good a place as any to start your full cooking journey, now that most of your meals would not be prepared by the other kitchen staff of the High Lord’s palace.

You flipped through it quickly, eyes snagging on a recipe for Night Court traditional curry- it sounded absolutely delicious.

With the cookbook in hand, you ventured slowly back to the front counter where Gina stood talking to another fae excitedly, your books waiting on the counter for you.

“Ah, Nesta, I’d like you to meet Y/N, she’s the customer I was telling you about!”

The other fae turned around, her movements sending a small amount of her scent- a winter bonfire and very alpha- and you were struck by her beauty. Sharp angles and liquid steel eyes, and lovely golden brown hair twisted into an elegant braid crown on top of her head.

“It’s nice to meet you Y/N, are you new in town?” The high fae’s voice was husky and holding a certain power to it, absolutely lovely.

“It’s nice to meet you, Nesta. And yes, I just moved to the city yesterday.”

“Well I hope you find the city to your liking. Gina was just telling me that you like romance novels?” You nodded your head. “I host a little book club here every second and fourth Wednesday at four in the afternoon, and we mainly read romance novels. I always like to extend an invitation to those Gina thinks would enjoy it,” Nesta offered.

“Oh…” you thought about it for a moment. “I’m in the process of getting my business up and running right now, but maybe in a couple of months when things have calmed down?” You asked hopefully.

Nesta nodded her head in agreement. “That’s fine, just talk to Gina when you’re ready to join, she’ll let you know what book we’re reading. Well, it was nice meeting you, but I’ve got to be going now now,” Nesta said, making her way over to the door.

“It was lovely meeting you as well, Nesta. I’ll see you in a couple of months.”

The alpha was out the door after waving goodbye, and you were left alone in the bookstore once more with Gina.

“Did you find everything you wanted, dear?” She asked, taking the cookbook from your hands.

“Yes, I did. Though I’m sure I’ll be back in a week for some extra reading, if I end up having the time.”

“You mentioned a business? What kind?”

Your books were bagged now, and you handed over your bank card after pulling it from your collar. “I’m going to be opening a bakery in the Rainbow, if all goes to plan.”

“Oh, that’s nice! We can always use more food stores, and bakeries especially! I’m a big fan of anything bread,” Gina said with a laugh, handing you back your bank card and sliding the book filled fabric bag over to you. “It came out to 11 gold marks and one silver mark, and if you absolutely hate the first book, I’ll let your return the rest and pick out something else, alright?”

You grin at her. “I don’t think that will be necessary, but it’s good to know! I’ll see you sometime soon, Gina. Thank you.”

“I look forward to hearing what you think of them! Walk safely, it can get slippery,” Gina warned as you stepped back into the snow and cold, door thunking shut behind you.

You followed your route back to the café you’d eaten at, simply names Jayla’s. You walking, taking the path that you think leads to the inn. You end up making a few extra turns, but you’re back in the warmth of the inn after you finally find the building. Druana is nowhere to be seen when you enter after kicking the snow off of your boots and dress, so you simply go up to your room.

Your bag lands on the table, and you immediately pulled out the cookbook, flicking through it again to find the curry recipe. You spy a notepad, quill, and ink pot which you grab and bring over to the table.

On the page, you write all of the ingredients you’ll need to make the curry- tonight, hopefully, if you can find everything you need in the two food centric Palaces. You’ll need chicken, a few different root vegetables, a good variety of spices, and coconut milk- you hoped that one of the various stalls you’d seen yesterday would have some prepared, you don’t quite feel like going through that hassle yet.

You check the small clock hanging on the wall, seeing that it’s only a quarter to noon still, that should be plenty of time to get the ingredients you need and be back here in time to meet Mor.

Next you look in the cupboards of the kitchenette, which hold a large frying pan, a pot with a lid, a cutting board, cooking utensils and small knife set. There’s also two sets of plates, bowls, cups and utensils. The frying pan and pot should work nice enough for the curry, there’s not much point to you buying your own cookware until your building is completed. And there’s a cold box, enchanted to keep dairy and meat fresh.

That would hopefully mean going to only one Palace today, or at least before the meeting. You let the ink of your list dry for a few more minutes, flipping open to the first page of your new book series, quickly reading the first chapter.

Just as you thought, it was going to be a good fit.

You folded your list in half once, then again, and tucked it into the collar of your dress alongside your bank card. You should probably get a purse of some sort soon. But that can wait.

You’re bounding down the stairs again in an instant, and Druana is back at her desk this time.

“Oh, I didn’t even hear you come in! I’ll see you again soon, Y/N.”

You smiled at her and said, “Yes, I should be back at or before 1:30, and Mor will be meeting me here, just so you know.”

“Thank you,” Druana replied with her own smile.

You were back in the winter air, sun shining down on you now. Your breath still made puffy clouds in the air, but you didn’t care. It’s winter, and it’s beautiful.

Slowly, you made your way across the nearest bridge that connected right to the Palace of Hoof and Leaf, your current destination. Upon entering the more tightly packed area, you gravitated towards a large stall, covered in so many different vegetables and large glass jars, only a few still filled to the brim with spices. There was a tall, dark skinned high fae standing behind the stall.

“Can I help you?” She asked in a low voice, and you instantly pinned her as an alpha.

You pulled out your grocery list. “Yes, I needed the vegetables and spices on this list, if you happen to have them,” you said, handing it over to the female when she gestures for you to give it to her.

“I just so happen to have almost all of these spices, and the ones I don’t I can point you to another sweet fae who has them, as well as the coconut milk and rice you need. And I have all of the vegetables you need. Making the traditional curry?” She asked as she began gathering the vegetables for you.

“Yes, I’m new to the city and want to learn some of the common dishes here, and this sounded like a wonderful start.”

“Well, I’ll say that it’s one of my personal favorites, so I hope you won’t be disappointed. My name is Petra, by the way, it’s always nice to see new faces in town.”

You smile at her, so happy that so far you’ve only had positive experiences with the people of Velaris. “I’m Y/N, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Now, would you like to buy small spice jars that you can bring back and refill, or just go with the amount you’ll need for the recipe?” Petra asked you, holding up a small glass bottle with a metal lid fitted to the top.

“I think I’ll buy the spice jars, please.”

She fills the three small bottles up quickly, putting them in a thin wooden container with a handle, with six slots perfectly fitting the spice jars.

“You can come back and have them filled up for a slight discount for any spice sellers in the two food oriented Palaces, but I’d prefer if you came back to my stall,” Petra said with a wink, placing the container into the tan fabric bag containing the vegetables. “That will be 7 gold marks, please.” You handed her your bank card, and she quickly passed it back after pressing it to her ledger. “Now, the other two spices and the coconut milk you need, you can find three stalls down on the right, and the male next to her has a good price on chicken, just to give a few suggestions,” Petra offered, pointing out the two fae she was speaking of.

“Thank you so much, I’ll be sure to come back when I need more vegetables,” you said before walking away, exchanging waves and warm smiles.

You made your way over to the other stalls, quickly buying the other two spices, coconut milk, and rice you need, as well as the chicken the recipe called for- one large chicken breast. You trekked back to the inn carefully, switching the bag between hands every so often.

“Grocery shopping, I see,” Druana greeted you as you breezed into the inn after kicking the snow off of your clothes.

“Yes, I thought it would be better than ordering in every night,” you chuckled as you made your way over to the stairs.

“Well, good luck with that. And don’t burn my inn down,” Druana added playfully as you began going up the flight of stairs.

“I’ll do my best!” You unlocked your room, immediately dropping the heavy bag next to the books you’d purchased earlier. Groceries sure are heavy when you have to lug them across town. No matter. You’ll get used to it soon enough, especially once you have to purchase for the bakery.

You put the chicken and coconut milk into the cold box, and the vegetables and spices onto the counter. Right after you had, there was a knock at your door. “Y/N? It’s me, Mor.”

You swung the door open, letting the bubbly blonde into your room. She was carrying a large yellow envelope under one arm, and decked in winter gear from head to toe, but still slightly shivering even in the warmth of the building. “Time to go?” You asked, still holding the door open.

“Yes, getting there a little early is wise with weather like this. Nothing quite like eating shit one to many times on your way to a meeting and ending up late,” Mor said, already moving back out of your bedroom door and into the hallway, and you followed her after making sure your bank card was still tucked safely in the collar of your shirt

The door snicked shut and you locked it quickly, following Mor down the stairs and outside once more. She led you through the streets cautiously, obviously afraid of falling down, but you made it to the café within ten minutes, and to your surprise it was Jayla’s café.

“Ah, welcome back Mor, Y/N,” Jayla said from behind the counter as she wiped it down with a cloth.

“Morrigan!” Exclaimed an older male’s voice, gravelly with age. “It’s wonderful to see you again, come, introduce me to your friend,” the elderly high fae said, beckoning the two of you closer to where he was seated at a table, three other chairs surrounding it.

“Auric, this is Y/N, the lovely young fae hoping to buy your property. Y/N, this is Auric, Velaris’s most experienced paint mixer, including magic imbued paints as well,” Mor said as the two of you sat in the unoccupied chairs.

“It’s wonderful to meet you Auric, I truly fell in love with your family’s property the moment I saw it,” you said right before Jayla came over to the three of you.

“Would the two of you like anything to drink?” She asked, and you noticed that Auric already had a mostly full cup of tea in front of him.

“I’ll take a tea, whatever you recommend please.”

“The same for me, please,” Mor said. “Thank you, Jayla.” Jayla nodded and walked away, going behind the counter to begin brewing your teas.

“So, you fell in love with the land? What did you like about it?” Auric asked you, eyes running over your face. It was then that you scented him- a male omega. It had been years since you’d met one yourself, before the mountain you believed.

“I loved the view looking towards the Sidra, you can see the mountains in the background as well as all of the other beautiful buildings in the city. The land itself is so lovely, it’s nice and flat, and I think it would look wonderful with a little extra landscaping, maybe a tree or two of that would be alright. And the location, on the outside edge of the Rainbow would be perfect for a bakery, close enough to a few residential areas, but also involved in the creativity that the area boasts,” you gushed, still picturing the view in your mind. Being able to bake and look out at such a beautiful river, beautiful city, truly, would be amazing.

Jayla returned, two cups of tea in hand that she placed in front of you and Mor. “A lovely raspberry tea for the both of you,” she said before walking back to the counter.

“A bakery, hmm?” Auric questioned, raising a brow at you as you took a sip of the tea- delicious. “Are enough sure you have the stamina to run it? It’s a hefty job.”

You nodded your head once, fully confident in your abilities. “Yes, I previously worked to bake for the entirety of the Hugh Lord of Winter’s residence, and over the course of… Well, being Under the Mountain, I was assistant to the head baker, my grandmother, for twenty years, and for thirty years after that I was head baker myself. I am confident that I can handle running a bakery on my own.”

The older fae’s eyes narrowed at your for a minute, before they crinkled as his lips spread into a smile. “I like you. I’m sorry that you had to go through that, but it’s good to see you’re stronger for it. Now, what type of baked goods will you be selling?”

You breathed a small sigh of relief before answering. “Well, I do have a few favorite pastries of the Winter Court that I’ll have, as well as loaves breads and cakes. Plus I have a number of recipes made with medicinal herbs or berries that have health boosting benefits. My most popular one by far has been a fertility boosting pastry made with a berry native to the Winter Court.”

Auric hummed as he considered everything you had said. “And what will you name it?”

“I… What?”

“What will you name your bakery? Surely you know what you want your business to be called, Y/N.”

“Of course I do, Auric. It will be called Sparaiya Bakery, after my grandmother. She might have left this plane, but she will always be with me, especially when I bake.”

Auric clapped his hands together once. “Very well, then. I’d like to sell you my land, Y/N. I think you have a good amount of experience, you have a vision for your bakery, and you seem like a strong, loyal person. I believe my ancestors would be proud to have your business on their land,” the older omega said sincerely. “I’ve set the price at 100,000 gold marks, are you willing to pay that much?”

The thought of that much money alone being spent made your stomach churn, but you reminded yourself of the massive amount of money that Kallias and Viviane had given you, and that this land was worth every single mark you were going to spend on it. “Yes, that’s perfectly fine with me.”

“Perfect!” Mor pulled the envelope from between her arm and chest, pulling a few documents out and summoning a quill and a pot of ink. “The two of you can go ahead and sign here, and Y/N, you’ll just need to press your bank card to the top right corner after you’ve both signed.” The two of you do as she says, standing and shaking hands afterwards.

“Thank you so much, Auric, for entrusting your family’s land to me. I hope that if you come by once it’s finished, you will be proud.”

Auric regarded you warmly, squeezing your hand an extra time before letting go. “I’m sure that I will be, Y/N. Let me know when you’re opening, and I’ll be sure to stop by.” He grabbed his copy of the sale documents

“I’ll make sure to. Have a wonderful rest of your day,” you said as he walked out of the café, leaving you with Mor. “I’m so happy he said yes! Oh, I should go tell Marcus that I have the plot of land now, and get everything moving in that direction. Thank you so much, Mor. You’ve been such a help in all of this,” you said, placing a kiss gently on the alpha’s cheek. “I’m going to head over to Marcus’s business now, if that’s alright.”

“Oh, of course!” The alpha responded, already donning all of her winter clothes again to bundle against the cold. “You walk safely over to there, Velaris gets slippery when it snows. Now, will I see you for lunch this Thursday?” Mor asked, and you mentally double checked the day of the week in your head- Monday.

“Yes, three days from now sounds perfect. Do you want to meet somewhere or at my hotel room?”

“I’ll meet you at your hotel room this time, alright?”

You nodded your head in agreement. “That sounds good, I’ll see you on Thursday Mor. You walk safely too!” You were already out of the door with your bill of sale in hand, beelining your way as well as you could to the Palace of Flame and Steel. When you arrived at Marcus’s shop, you swung the door open and stomped off the snow on your boots before entering. “Marcus!” You said excitedly as you met his eyes, waving the paper in your hands at him. “I have land now, will you be able to come assess it in the next few days?”

Marcis stood from his place behind the desk and made his way around it to you. “I can go right now, there it too much to do around here at the moment,” he said, already ushering you out of his shop, flipping the open sign on the door to say closed, and locking it behind him.

“If you’re sure…” you said before grabbing his hand and pulling him with you to the Rainbow as fast as the two of you could manage in the snow. “This is it!” You gesture to the dilapidated building excitedly.

“You are planning to tear it down, right?” Marcus asked, amusement in his voice.

“Of course I am, silly, I wanted the land. It has such a beautiful view of the Sidra and the mountains, come here.” You pulled him past the building, to where you had stood when you’d known that this was the land you wanted your dream to come to life on.

Marcus let out a heavy breath. “Okay, I get it now.” He looked around, taking in where they were situated. “And it’s in the perfect spot for a bakery, you really picked the best possible spot.”

“I know!” You squealed, jumping as high as you could without using your wings in your excitement. “So, what’s the procedure for tearing down the old building and starting the new construction?” You asked, ready to learn the necessary details.

Marcus pulled you back onto the street, and the two of you began to walk back to his business. “Well, we need to submit a request for a permit to demolish, and one for construction. But since I’ve done a good amount of work in the past six years, I doubt that there will be much more than two days of waiting time between submitting it and getting the permits. We can fill out all the forms once we get to my office, and I’ll get them sent up to the House of Wind as soon as I can.”

“Alright, that sounds doable enough,” you said as you threw a smile at him, happy that he’s kind about you not knowing much about the building process.

Soon enough the two of you are back at his office, and he swings the door open, letting you go inside first. He went through a filing cabinet behind his desk before pulling out a half inch thick stack of papers in total. Marcus turned back to you, placing them on the desk and gesturing for you to take a seat.

You do as he asks, and he sets two piles in front of you- both are identical. You give him a quizzical look, not understanding the purpose of having two.

“One pile is for your own personal records, and the other is for the permits and for our contract agreement, for payments and things like that. I suggest you read everything closely, and I can explain something to you if you’d like.”

You read through the stack of documents, finding everything to be fair, both in compensation for the company, and certain protections on promises made to you. You signed the contract documents first, letting Marcus take the pages as you finished to sign them himself. Then came the permit application, you needed to state why you wanted to tear the building down, then what you were going to replace it with.

That was easy, the current building would not suffice for a bakery, it might even burn down if you ride to light a fire in it. And building on top of the land, well, a bakery plus a second floor apartment with a small garden.

Once it was all filled out, Marcus went through every page to make sure that everything had been signed. “Alright, everything looks to be in order. I’ll write to you to let you know when it’s been approved, okay Y/N?”

You nodded your head, happy to be done with the paperwork portion of the day. “That sounds just fine, Marcus. I’ll see you in a few days, most likely,” you said before standing from your chair, stretching your muscles and wings slightly.

“I’ll see you then,” Marcus responded, asking you over to the door. By this point, the sun had begun to set over Velaris, but the city was more alive than it had been all throughout the morning.

“And thank you, Marcus. I look forward to working with you,” you added as you stepped outside and away from his shop.

“It’s no problem, Y/N. I’ll see you soon.”

And the you were off, your new property deed tucked under safely against your body. You were eager to make your way home, wanting nothing more at this point than a hot bath and a warm meal- you didn’t particularly care in which order. You were at the inn soon enough, kicking snow off of your boots and the hem of your dress for the last time of the day.

“Welcome back, Y/N,” Druana greeted from behind the counter, waving a bark skinned hand at you.

“Thank you, Druana. I’ll see you in the morning!” You said, already making your way up the stairs in your rush to finally get out of your winter gear.

The door to your room swung open and shut quickly, and you sat at the table in the center of the room, undoing the laces of your boots as fast as you were able. They came off, then followed by your dress after unbuttoning the back carefully. Now you were only standing in your underthings and tights, and very much feeling the chill that had set in from being outside in your bones. You stripped off the rest of your clothes before heading into the bathroom and starting the tub.

Gloriously hot water spilled out of the faucet, and you didn’t wait for it to fill up, merely settling yourself in as the water slowly came up to your neck. You allowed yourself to soak for a few minutes, letting the cold seep from your bones and warmth replace it. Once you felt warmed and comfortable, you washed yourself quickly after hearing your stomach growl loudly.

After toweling off, you went back into your bedroom and donned a soft set of white cotton underthings, as well as an oversized lilac sweater that you were able to wear like a dress, the back already having had the fabric carved out of it to fit your wings. It was so cozy and soft, you felt buried in it. Just how you wanted to feel after an eventful day.

You went to the kitchenette, pulling out the cutting board, pot, and pan. You grabbed the cookbook from the table and set it on the counter next to the cutting board, reading over the instructions once more. Next you pull out the chicken and grab a suitable enough knife, dicing the meat into bite sized chunks as the recipe called for. You set them in the pan, lighting the charcoal beneath the burner to get the heat started.

You washed the knife and cutting board and dried them off, then grabbed the root vegetables that you’d bought earlier. Similar to baking, you switched between washing and chopping the vegetables to making the meat around the pan easily, being careful not to burn anything while getting everything else you would need prepped.

Paying attention to the recipe, you measured out the right amount of each spice, mixing them Goethe’s with a bit of water to create a paste that smelled heavenly and spicy.

The chicken was done now, and you added the vegetables along with a bit of water and the coconut milk. Then all you had to do was wash and set the rice to cook, and wait. You rinsed the rice in one of the bowls, getting the water clear before carefully draining it out and placing the rice in to the now boiling water.

In another twenty minutes, you deemed the vegetables and rice to be cooked enough, and dished out a nice serving of rice, with lots of curry on top.

You cleared off the table, moving your new books over to the nightstand by your bed, then brought your dinner to the table. You sat facing the windows and stared out at Velaris as you ate, pleasantly surprised with how nicely the curry had turned out, with it being your first time cooking anything like it.

Soon enough you were full and getting sleepy, so you brought your dishes back to the sink. You plated the rest of the rice and curry into the other bowl that you hadn’t used, then washed all of the dishes you had used that night.

By the time you had finished, your bed was calling to you, and it was such a soft, sweet landing when you finally made your way under the covers, deciding to sleep in your massive sweater instead of changing into a nightgown.

It’s not like anyone will see me sleeping, anyways, you thought to yourself, right as you drifted off into a peaceful sleep, filled with the view from your new property.

Series Taglist: @icey--stars @breadsticks2004

#you can have it #acotar a/b/o #alpha!feyre x omega!reader x alpha!rhys #alpha!feysand x omega!reader #acotar omegaverse #feysand x reader omegaverse #feysand x reader #alpha!morrigan #alpha!nesta #acotar fic #acotar #acotar fanfic #feysand x you #tato writes #omega!reader

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soulwrit3s · 10 months

Text

when i come around

A/n: no Bc i had no idea where this story was going but it’s a cute little oneshot. Lmk what y’all think!

Riri is capable of so many things, she can create suits from metal scraps and fix cars at the speed of light. She’s fit, so much so that she always grabs you to move you instead of speaking. She’s a great cook, an outstanding mother but you don’t seem to be the only one impressed with her abilities.

You don’t know how to manage being a hero, a mother, and working as a mechanic. But you do your best to help and to do so, you always try to drop Riri off some lunch at her garage. Once you do get there, you can tell she’s been busy.

You watch Riri lean back against the detailed Honda Accord, you can tell by the grease on her overalls and the towel over her shoulder that she just finished it up. She’s chatting up a customer with a look that you’re trying to put your finger on. She’s never been flirtatious and you can tell by the genuine smile on her face that she’s interested in the topic of the conversation.

You feel a tug at the sleeve of your hoodie rather, Riri’s MIT hoodie on you before looking down.

“Who’s that mama?” Amira questions, big wide eyes meeting yours. You look back at the woman your wife is speaking to, she’s dressed in a black pencil skirt and a blouse, and all you can see is long black hair cascading down her back.

“Ion know, a customer.” You shrug. It’s been a long day and you wanted to see Riri since you were bored at home today.

You watch her stretch mid-convo, revealing a strip of her toned abdomen. Oh, she doesn’t put in any effort to be a flirt but she somehow does anyway.

As you get closer you hear more of their conversation.

“Yeah no, this was lightweight, she’s as good as new.” Riri compliments, smoothing a hand over the top of the car.

Her and her detailing.

“Thank you, I’ll definitely be here more often.” The woman’s voice is sultry and her vowels drag out for longer than they should.

“Right.” Riri mumbles, the smile slowly fading off her face as she turns around to begin working on another car. You watch the woman call her again and slip a card in her hand, Riri begins squinting at her and the corner of her lip curls up in irritation.

“I’m cool, I’m married.” She shrugs, her voice monotone as she hands the card back.

You don’t want to admit it but it gives you the ego boost of a fucking lifetime. That doesn’t stop the woman though and you watch her reach for Riri’s shoulder all for your wife to clutch her wrist.

“I said I’m cool, I have a wife…You ain’t welcome here anymore, aight? Get in your car,” She orders. You can’t see the woman’s face at all but she slips into her car quickly and drives off.

You watch Riri sigh in irritation and roll her eyes before turning back around and working on the car she was working on before being interrupted. While she’s underneath it, Amira’s little red crocs catch her eye and she slides out with a tired smile on her face and immediately greets your daughter.

“Hi, Mira baby.” She smiles as she lifts Amira up into a hug. She spends some time asking about your daughter about her day which makes Amira begin to babble and go from one subject to another. While your daughter is off talking about school, Riri sneaks in a kiss on your cheek.

“Good day?” You question as she holds Amira in one arm and uses the other to squeeze your hand.

You ponder on bringing up the previous client. You’re nowhere near bothered by it, if anything you’re amused. But you can’t possibly ruin the moment when Riri’s watching Amira so attentively.

“Yeah, great day.” You smile. You watch Riri put your daughter down.

“Get started on your math work, so we can knock it out before your mom gets on you.” She says as Amira aims for the corner of the garage. It used to belong to you, at first I was just a hangout spot for you and Riri when you first became a couple. It had a simple carpet, a grey but large beanbag, and a mini fridge. Then you added more of your own stuff to pass time with Riri while she worked on her suit. You added posters of your favorite bands and artists, a small table, and a couple of books.

Over time, it’s transformed and the space went from what it previously was to two pink beanbags since they were Amira’s favorite color, the smallest mini fridge so she can reach it, and a table full of toys for her to play with.

“What’s up with you?” Riri questions, noticing that you’ve zoned out. You look into big curious eyes that happen to match your daughters.

“Nothing’s up,” You shrug still holding onto her food in one hand. She puts a hand on your waist beneath her hoodie to pull you in for a kiss to the jaw.

“Girl, you told me you don’t steal my clothes.” She murmurs, mocking your words from earlier this week.

“I lied.” You admit. Despite her smelling like motor oil and her body being slick with the sheer heat of being beneath a car, you wrap your arms around her broad shoulders.

“I missed you today.” She confesses as she kisses your jaw again.

“Yeah, I did too.” You pull up the container of food you’ve brought for her. The mere thought of food makes her lick her lips.

“I need to eat-“ She begins.

“Mama, does six plus five equal twelve?” Amira hollers from her corner of the garage. Riri turns around, doing her best not to laugh at her daughter’s genuine frustration before looking back at you.

“It’s fine, I didn’t know that shit till I was like five.” Riri shrugs, kissing your lips and tending to your daughter. You watch Riri lift her up into her lap and gently kiss her temple to aid in calming her frustration.

“Listen, baby. Count with your fingers when you’re stuck, you’re real smart but don’t try to do it in your head.” Riri suggests. She’s always been so good at calming a person down, whether it’s you, her mother, or your daughter.

“Or, we can do the tally marks like your mom taught you. She’s real smart too.” Riri continues, briefly looking up only to find that you’ve been gazing at her this whole time.

“I wanna do the tally marks.” Amira sighs. She looks just like you when she huffs like that.

“Yeah, that’s a good pick. Put five down and then do another six.”

You walk over to the plushy pink beanbag that’s across from them and continue to watch them. Her food will be cold by the time she’s done but it’s worth it.

@xchoxix @pvnks0ul

#riri williams #black panther #riri x reader #riri williams x you #riri williams x reader

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sl-walker · 21 days

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Color Cards for sale

Or: Custom nails!

*updated 9/3/24*

Want some professional looking stick/glue-on nails on a budget for yourself or someone else? Since I am still unemployed and my wife makes these stunning creations as art therapy, we're looking to sell them to keep us afloat and do things like buy food until I have a new job. (She already owned all the nail stuff.) So, if you want a set of truly gorgeous nails, take a look and contact me here or on that one chat app starting with a 'D' where I am also sl_walker.

Nails will be sent in a padded envelope with cardboard to protect them, though I might clip the longer color cards in two for mailing. Shipping is free to the continental US! (Though if you wanna toss me a couple bucks towards it, I won't turn you down. It's about 4.50 per package. LOL!) Probably you'll also get a handwritten note and maybe even a sketch from me. Several of these nail sets are three hours or more of work! And as you can see, they really are beautiful. Just ignore my very amateur photography, Tumblr's assholish image compression and the occasional cat hair. I promise I won't send any kitty dna with the nails! And you can also contact me and ask me for a set of pics emailed without compression.

As they're sold, I'll update this post by striking those through! And YES! SHE DOES CUSTOMS! (We just finished a set of Boba Fett nails and we're working on Maul ones!) If you want a custom color card (or loose nails once you know your sizes! I'll try to write the sizes on the color cards when I can see them), just contact me with a description and we'll let you know if she's able to do it. She can do cat meme nails, no joke. Or like-- fandom themed. So please do feel free to ask after that.

Also, if you request it, I'll throw in a little tube of nail glue, too.

1.) Autumn's Coming - $40

Stunning set of thirty nails, which means that you'll be able to find your exact size, but you might be able to wear a couple different sizes and have nails enough for two sets, too! Amidst the gorgeous fall-themed colors, you have cats eye magnetic metallic nails, plain color, blossom decals and a gorgeous coppery metallic crackle. They're shorter and with a blunt tip; in fact, I'm wearing a set right now, albeit in a different color theme.

2.) Good Omens - $30

This is a set of thirty nails. My wife's a huge fan of Sir Terry (sorry about the other guy) and so she came up with a Good Omens set! The red is metallic and magnetic cats eye with silver and white decals, while the white nails are themed in gold. I can definitely attest to how pretty these are, since she also made me a set of my own; I'm wearing them as I type (badly because I'm not used to wearing nails) and they're pretty enough for me to learn how to type with nail tips. LOL! She said to warn whoever bought them that she had to glue one back to the card. Sorry about that! It doesn't affect the nail itself.

3.) Thinking of Spring - $36

Another set of thirty, this time more spring-themed! With some popping magnetic metallic green cats eyes interpersed with some softer pink/orange metallic magnetic starbursts, cats eye and be-dazzled, you also have the lovely decals adorning the white nails, too. This is another beautiful set that reflects a similar quality to the autumn themed nails.

4.) Dusky - $26

A set of thirty, these are relatively simple by comparison: Done in a dusky metallic magnetic cats eye on one side and a brilliant, eyepopping holo on the other, they're classy and beautiful.

5.) Better Call Prince - $24

This fun set of twenty-four is absolutely sparkly; with metallic purple on one side and purple holo on the other, all of them also have holographic decals on them! They're busy, but if you're a redneck like me (or just really love sparkly things!) they'll make you oooh when you see them live!

6.) Pride - $18

This is a set of twenty-four. My wife actually made these for me, but they're too long for me. But boy, they sure are pretty. With the silver cats eye magnetic metallic on one side and the glittery rainbow on the other, this is a great set for you if you want something pretty with a relatively low price-tag!

7.) The Art of Subtlety - $18

This set of twenty-four is actually more gorgeous the brighter the light. All one set, all the same, these beautiful cats eyes in a sedate blue actually have a subtle holo effect on top of the loveliness that is that magnetic metallic polish; I wasn't able to capture it, but it's there! These are great for business people who like to have pretty nails to tap on a table top as illustration for their annoyance while still having that whimsical underlying hint of color.

8.) Slightly Better Than Business Casual - $16

This set of twenty-four is what my wife calls 'scratch and dent', not because they aren't pretty, but because there are a few minor flaws in the finish of the tips on the teal side. Despite that, they're a damn pretty set and will feed the cats for a few days!

9.) Where There's Smoke - $26

The first set of matte nails on offer! This set of thirty (eleven regular, three half-sizes) is three different shades of matte gray, one more silvery/metallic and two more literally smoke-colored. Perfect for someone looking for that bit of elegance, no reflective topcoat necessary!

10.) A Touch of Class - $34

This set of thirty includes three half-sizes on the end for better sizing! A gorgeous set of nails with white, decorated nails meeting silvery gold magnetic metallic meeting a gorgeous deep green glitter! This is a really lovely set, my cat Ajax really wanted to see them up close. LOL! You can't beat that endorsement. (But we're selling them anyway to help feed Ajax. XD)

11.) The Denver Mint - $30

Oh man, I actually gasped when Erin showed me these. Just the richness of the metallic silver and copper looks awesome in person offset by the plain beige nails interspersed through the set. This is another set of thirty that has the three half-sizes, too! A really lovely and elegant set of almond shaped nails.

12.) Please Forgive Ajax - $36

This is another stunning set, this time with printed decals and some custom hand-drawn art on them! Please ignore the stray cat hair, they will not come with; the culprit is sitting on my lap right now completely unashamed. But anyway, beyond those lovely green nails, the silvery-gold magnetic metallic nails will absolutely transfix you in the light. Heck, they transfix me and I can't even wear them. This set of thirty also includes the three half-sizes.

13.) Tropical Daydreams - $30

With the deep teal and the gold metallic and an almond shape, this set's sure to invoke the tropics; same as the others above, a set of thirty with three half-sizes! They're a relatively straight-forward set compared to the rest, but no less beautiful in person.

14.) Is Star Sapphire a Villain? - $34

If you're a DC Comics fan, you might giggle. But for everyone else, this particularly cute (and even conditionally chunky!) nail set is a lovely group of pink, dusky sorta violet, and actual violet magnetic metallic flake! So they're especially interesting in motion, and the bling on them are a whimsical kind of fun, too!

15.) The Spider-Gwen Special - $34

Protect Trans Kids. (Like my nephew!) And thank you, makers of the Spider-Verse, for having that poster on Gwen's wall and inspiring the name! Anyway, the theme of this set of thirty (no half-sizes on this card) is obvious; short nails, they'll look good and probably not interfere too much with typing! And the jewels are supercute, too.

16.) Cool Colored Chameleon - $40

THESE ARE SO DAMN COOL! Ahem. ANYWAY. Several of these are actually temperature-reactive! So, they change color with the temperature. Like a mood ring, kind of. They're also really super pretty in-person, not gonna lie. I can't tell you how many of the nail sets Erin shows me cause me to go O.O and oooh. This was a big one, I think I might have squealed. A set of thirty, with the three half-sizes, this one's just ridiculously fun.

17.) Pretty in Pink - $32

Another one of those sets with some breathtaking magnetic metallic, this time in a soft silvery pinkish color! Mixed with the flat nails and the occasional bit of bling, this delicately colored set nonetheless has enough flash and flare to make your average redneck (meaning me) happy. Hopefully they'd be able to make you happy, too!

#custom nails #help steff and erin afford groceries!#also like-- these really are pretty #even if the kitties are inordinately fascinated with them #then again--#they also will eat corn off a cob #proof they're ohio kitties thoroughly

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kalpanahandmadepaper · 1 month

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https://kalpanapapers.com/collections/foil-print-paper

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ignoremyworld · 8 months

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Remember me?

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Eddie is a metal star living in New York and needed a bite to eat. It doesn’t get awkward until he runs into his past

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The streets of New York City were busy. Even at night. Of course the thousands of people taking pictures weren’t helping.

Eddie had just gotten done with his gig at Webster hall and decided to take a late night walk to get fresh air after being stuck, sweaty and gross on a stage for three hours. He was still wearing his outfit from the show, a pair of baggy cargo pants with his bandana tucked into his back pocket and his cuffs hanging off one of his belt loops, a cropped re designed version of the hellfire logo, a fishnet shirt under that and his hair up in a bun to get the sweat off his neck.

Even if the streets were busy he didn’t mind. Walking past shop after shop he’d look through the windows to see what kind of stuff they were selling. A sports memorabilia store selling sport cards and merch like hats and jerseys. A little yarn shop filled with different textures and colors. A subway shop that he desperately wanted to stop into and he would if he hadn’t forgotten his wallet.

Staring through the subway window he saw the cashier making their customer the desired sandwich. He watched as he, somewhat, skillfully put the cheese and meat onto the bread, taking some bacon and putting it in their weird microwave. Eddie’s stomach growled and as it did he remembered about Apple Pay. He had about $73 dollars left on there so he walked in and hoped they took tap.

Waiting in line he heard the door ring signaling someone had entered. Hearing their footsteps stomp behind him and a sharp breath was taken. As the line slowly moved forward, Eddie could hear the aforementioned guy behind him put his phone up to his ear as the ringing became muffled.

He heard the guy start to whisper to the recipient on the phone, curious but not enough to eavesdrop on their conversation. The few people in front of him had came and left and it was soon his turn. He wrapped up his order with a foot long, a cookie, chips and a drink. The took his phone out and got Apple Pay ready when the man that was behind him, now next to him, spoke.

“I’ll pay for it man” a deep voice had spoken up beside him.

The sound of gravelly morning voice made Eddie jolt. Taking him back to Hawkins. Laying in bed with…

“Steve” he said softly, his heart beating ten times faster than it was.

He turned his head to meet Steve’s eyes. Still brown like firewood after the flames have been put out. His hair had changed. What was once tall and fluffy, helped by Farrah fawcet spray, was now laying beside his cheeks with the tips dyed blue. He had gotten more freckles since the last time he saw him.

The last time Eddie had seen anyone really. He had left in the middle of the night to go with his band mates to start his dream job. No one knew he was gonna leave, he knew they’d make a big fuss about it and a part of him couldn’t stand the look that would have been on Steve’s face when he said he’d be leaving.

The cashier broke the long silence between them “so, which one of you is going to pay? There’s a line forming”

Steve walked up to the register and handed the man his card, not taking his eyes off Eddie.

“Been a bit hasn’t it” Steve said. Finally tearing his eyes away from Eddie to look literally anywhere else.

“Yeah. A bit” Eddie replied, a wave of guilt washing over him

“Seven years is a long time” Steve whispered, taking his card back from the cashier “and you never called” he said before walking out.

Eddie chased after him and caught his arm. Pulling him back

“I wanted to call! I really did but I knew you’d be mad at me. Just like you are now! I’m so so sorry Stevie.” He said feeling tears well in his eyes.

“Don’t call me that” Steve snapped “you lost that privilege when you left and didn’t say anything. Not even a note Eddie! You have no clue how hurt and worried I was about you. It wasn’t until rob had said she saw you on television that I knew you had left us. That you had left me” tears had started to slip from Steve’s eyes and Eddie desperately wanted to place his hand on steves cheek like he used to and kiss them away.

“I know stevi- Steve. I know. And I’m so incredibly sorry. I wish there was some way I could make it up to you.” Eddie had sighed and let go of Steve’s arm “but unless you let me, there’s no way I can fix what I did”

There was a silence. The sound of cars rushing by was the only thing that was heard between the two.

Steve broke the silence and said “you can start by coming home with me”

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

WELL that took such a long time. I want to start making longer stories and maybe continuous parts. Should I make a second part

And please any advice on writing or tips are appreciated as I’m still new to this.

Hope you liked it!

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #steddie #stranger things #eddie #steve harrington #steve stranger things #stevexeddie #modern stranger things #rockstar eddie munson #rockstar Eddie #remember me?#Steve #part two?

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360tapit · 7 months

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2btheanswertothequestion · 2 years

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Lesson/Plan

Kissing Lesson #2

(Lesson 1 | AO3)

Eddie has a problem with obsessiveness. If he finds something he likes, he holds onto it. Delves deep. Becomes an expert. Previously, his obsessions were regular things that anyone with a modicum of taste might enjoy. Fantasy books. Heavy metal. DnD, naturally. All tangible-ish and accessible to him. Currently, he's not so fortunate. Because his latest obsession?

Kissing.

More precisely, it's kissing Steve Harrington.

Yeah. 'Shoot for the moon,' they said. 'You might land among the stars,' they said. Only he boarded a spaceship and didn't notice until he was walking on the sun, somehow making it back to Earth without burning up. And now… now he can't stop thinking about how to make a repeat trip.

He truly has no idea how. Zero fucking clue is what he has.

He's never done this before, y'see; he doesn't know how to proceed. Is it off-putting in the wrong way if he went up to Steve, his good buddy, and told him the friendly French kiss they shared changed Eddie's life? And yes, Eddie has no frame of reference, but he's nevertheless certain that no one else will come close to what Steve did to him. Is he allowed to admit that? That his first kiss is bound to be the best he'll ever have unless Steve kisses him again?

Everything Eddie knows about the world tells him that, were he to do that, his next kiss would be with a fist. Although, everything he knew about the world got sort of turned upside down mere months ago. Not just regarding the existence of monsters and mind-raping lichs, but also telepathic teens, reanimated sheriffs, Russians, and jocks who are nice. And considering it was the aforementioned nice jock's idea to kiss in the first place…

So, yeah. Pardon him for being slightly confused about stuff. Especially since Steve doesn't seem to share the confusion. No, see, Steve's gone on like usual, to the point where Eddie might've convinced himself it was a dream if Robin hadn't given him knowing looks afterward. Which means Steve told her. That's fine. Eddie expected nothing else. He hasn't told anyone yet – needs to keep this close for a while longer, roll it between his palms to get a better feel – but it's good to know he could without upsetting Steve.

Then, the remaining question is: can he talk to Steve about it without upsetting him?

Only one way to find out.

The keyboard click-click-clicks as Steve helps a customer find a movie she's rented before but can't remember the name of. Eddie hangs at the side of the counter, waiting. His plan is foolproof: ask Steve while at work so, in the case of backfiring, he can flee, fake his death, and vanish forever before Steve clocks out. Unfortunately, Family Video is bizarrely busy this ordinary Wednesday, and Eddie's been passing time reading synopses of unshelved VHSes and trying not to get caught staring at Steve as he works.

At last, she leaves (the movie she wanted was Gremlins – who the fuck forgets Gremlins?), and Steve is free to also lean on the counter. It brings him into Eddie's space, close enough to speak softly and still be heard; close enough to kiss- No! Bad, Eddie! Talk first, then kiss (hopefully).

"Did you want something?" Steve asks. "Or are you hanging around for the view?"

If he only knew.

Dropping the VHS back in the pile, Eddie smiles like he's not developing stress ulcers at this moment.

"It's about what happened last week."

"What happened?"

"You know."

Eddie taps his own lips; Steve's eyes widen in understanding.

"Oh, yeah." He nods, unbothered, as if this happens to him all the time. Shit, maybe it does. "Yeah?"

What Eddie's supposed to ask is if a repeat is in the cards. What actually emerges when he opens his mouth is, "Was that a good kiss?"

Look, he's working his way toward it, all right?

Steve scoffs. "Of course. I wouldn't let your first be bad."

"Right. Then I'll categorize it accordingly," Eddie says gravely; Steve lovingly rolls his eyes. "And… how did I do?"

"With the…?" Now Steve taps his lips (plush, pink, peh-lease get your mind out of the gutter, Eddie). "S'all right. Better than all right! It was good. You were responsive. But, uh, kinda passive."

Eddie, who's leaned in with interest in the feedback, recoils indignantly.

"Passive?"

"Uh huh. Most girls enjoy when you take charge. But some chicks like to call the shots and be dominant."

Eddie scowls. "I didn't mean to be passive. I wasn't sure what I was doing, or what you'd be doing."

"That's understandable. I didn't mind it. It was…" Steve smiles, eyes heavy-lidded in a way that doesn't make Eddie's stomach flip, nope, not at all. "...a nice surprise for you to be so pliable."

Passive. Pliable. Those words and 'Eddie Munson' do not go together! He's a man of action, a doer! And yet. For another kiss or two? Eddie could be putty, if that's what he needs to be.

"So, you don't go for dominant chicks then, huh?" he asks.

"I didn't say that. I'm fine with either. A good kiss from the right partner is… I mean, I'm flexible."

Shrugging, Steve then gathers the returned tapes in his arms and starts reshelving them. Eddie trails behind him.

"I seriously could do better, you know," he says.

"Hey, it's okay," Steve says without looking up from the movie in his hand. "You were good. With practice, you could be amazing."

Jackpot. The conversation is heading where Eddie wants it to. Now he just needs to give it one last push…

"'Practice'." Eddie snorts derisively. "With whom?"

He's about to lay down the final breadcrumb and say 'with you?', but Steve is quicker on the ball – looking over his shoulder, eyebrow raised, he says:

"I said it was lesson one, right? Kinda shitty of me if I don’t follow through with lesson two."

Eddie’s eyes might just pop out of his skull, they're bugging so hard.

"You- Really?" he squeaks.

Steve nods absent-mindedly, rearranging two VHSes that were ordered wrong on the shelf. "Why not? It's not like my recent dates have been mind-blowing – I'm not missing out by hanging with you instead. Honestly, I'd rather spend time with you anyway."

That sonofabitch. He can't say stuff like that. Not to a dude he 1) knows is queer, and 2) is offering to provide tonsil-cleaning for as a friendly favor. If Eddie didn't know he was straight, he'd assume…

Well. He shan't look down that hole, lest he falls in. Dwelling on impossible what-ifs will only depress him.

"So," Steve says, depositing the last tape. "Tonight?"

Kissing while sitting is different from kissing while standing.

Duh, right? But it's not something that even entered Eddie's mind until it happened. He can't begin to describe the differences, though, so don't ask him to – he's too preoccupied with memorizing the shape of Steve's molars.

They got into it immediately. He expected a degree of awkwardness when rolling up for his 'lesson', but Steve apparently doesn't do 'awkward' when it comes to making out. He just invited Eddie inside, told him to sit, and planted one on him the moment he got comfortable.

It's good because it's straight to the point, removes the weirdness and potential second-guessing. It's bad because the responsible voice in Eddie's head (which has Wayne's twang, if anyone's wondering) insists they must talk about it for real at some point. At the moment, Eddie ignores it – he's climbed into Steve's lap and is straddling his waist. He's not interrupting this for anything.

It begins uncertain, him hovering and his hands gripping Steve's shoulders. But as Steve's hands roam over Eddie's thighs and cup his ass, he figures it's time to stop thinking so fucking much and simply do. He lowers himself on shaky legs and grinds their hips together until Steve moans into his open mouth. Steve holds him closer, tighter, trapping the heat between them. The mansion is chilly, but Steve is warm and Eddie is sweating, damp spots growing in his pits and on his back. He's a wreck, just like last time, head spinning and heart racing, and he wants to ruin Steve the way he's being ruined. Give as good as he's getting.

Digging his fingers into Steve's hair – upper layer stiff with hairspray but softer underneath – and tugs. Steve makes a delicious noise; Eddie tugs again, and louder. Eddie pushes into him, curls their tongues, bites at Steve's lip, licks roughly when he groans, and starts over, all while tugging, grinding, tugging, grinding.

Steve breaks the kiss. His eyes narrow suspiciously.

"This is because I called you passive, isn't it?"

He doesn't specify what 'this' is. He doesn't need to. Eddie smirks in lieu of an answer; Steve huffs.

"You're a brat," he says.

"That's no way to talk to your student."

"This is no way to act with your teacher."

"You're not really a teacher. What are your credentials? Do you have a diploma?" Eddie gasps, melodramatic. "I bet you're not even licensed! You're more like a tutor. The smartest kid in class hired to ensure I don't fall even more behind."

"Oh, I'm hired?" Steve pulls Eddie flush to his chest, needing to crane his neck to look Eddie in the eye. "What's my salary?"

Eddie rises to his knees. He quite likes being taller than Steve. Likes those huge hazels looking up at him, pupils swallowing the irises.

"We'll discuss the financial details later," he says. "The point is, I'm your boss."

Steve rolls his eyes. Then he heaves them both aside, slamming onto the couch with him on top. Eddie squawks, his head nearly thumping into the armrest.

"Shit!" Steve says, panicked. He cradles the back of Eddie's head. "I'm sorry, did I hurt you?"

Eddie laughs. "I'm fine, dude."

Steve frowns, delicately prodding Eddie's skull as Eddie shakes, strings of giggles spilling out. It wasn't every day he almost got brained on Steve Harrington's luxurious white sofa while Steve Harrington laid on top of him.

Satisfied that Eddie's laughing fit wasn't due to head trauma, Steve's expression shifts from contrite to tender. He brushes stray locks off Eddie's face, the touch featherlike. As if he's handling something valuable.

It creates a lump in Eddie's throat that aches. This experience is alien. Wayne, bless him, while loving, isn't the gentle or sentimental type. In Hellfire they trade benign roughhousing and the occasional clap on the shoulder. Dustin is the cuddliest of them, but there's a difference between little-brotherly hugs and the sensual caress from a beautiful man, muscles flexing as he holds himself up in order not to crush you.

Eddie tilts his head up and looks at Steve, thinking Come on, please? Reading him like a book, Steve reattaches their lips; swallows Eddie's sigh.

These kisses are slower, lazier. They take their time exploring each other's tastes (Steve's is minty). His hand finds Eddie's, fingers splaying along each other before interlocking. Breaking the kiss with a smack, Steve then trails his mouth from Eddie's jaw, pausing to give extra attention to the scars, to the crook of his neck, nuzzling deep. It tickles – Eddie giggles and tries not to squirm, lest Steve stops.

"Is it always like this?" he asks, voice breathy.

"No, not always," Steve murmurs against his skin. "Only when… I'll tell you later, okay?"

Eddie hums in agreement. All his brain power is dedicated to keeping his dick in line, because as accommodating as Steve's been, even he must have a limit. He must. And Eddie's betting that limit is someone else's boner poking his leg. Steve's not making it easy for him – he nips at Eddie's earlobe, which is oh so good, then licks circles over Eddie's pulse point, which is even better, Jesus Christ.

Try as he might to avoid it, his instincts win: Eddie's hips buck, his groin rubbing against Steve's thigh, and the friction. It's delicious. Superior to what his hand or any pillow has ever provided. He could come just like this.

Steve flinches away with a gasp. His hair is unkempt where Eddie has run his fingers, mouth red and wet from the necking. Hazy eyes focus on the bulge in Eddie's jeans; he figures this is it.

"Oh, yeah," Steve says, as if he just remembered where he left his keys. "We can make this lesson two."

Sliding back, he unbuckles Eddie's belt. Eddie lies frozen, gawking as Steve deftly opens the cuffs and pulls the strap out of his belt loops. This can't be happening. He's hallucinating. He really did hit his head on the armrest and is stuck in a fucked up coma dream. His subconscious is taunting him.

He says, "W-wait, what-"

"You don't want that?"

Steve's eyes are huge; he's pushing out his bottom lip in an adorable pout. But why is he making such a perfect impression of a kicked puppy now?

Eddie splutters. "Do you? Are you okay with this?"

"Yes?" Steve says, the 'duh' at the end unspoken but still so loud. Except there should be no 'duh' in this situation. The only way this could logically happen is if Steve asked Eddie to jerk him. The wrong person's pants are coming off!

"You don't want me to, um, to you?"

Steve blinks rapidly, long lashes fluttering with surprise. "You've done it before?"

Eddie glares at him. Of course he hasn't! Not to someone else. But, "Have you?"

"No," Steve says evenly. "But I've had it done to me. I know how to do it. I'll demonstrate and then you can try if you want."

And what is Eddie supposed to say to that? 'No, thank you'? Perhaps if he were a stronger man. Alas, he has smoker's lung and failed PE twice due to lack of attendance. He has the ability to muster strength for amp-carrying and little else.

He says, "O-okay."

Grinning victoriously, Steve pops the button on Eddie's jeans. Pulls everything down. Doesn't comment upon the X-Men print on the boxers. Regards Eddie's cock, at half-mast and growing, with a fiery resolve. He licks his lips.

Then he dives and takes the cock head in his mouth.

Eddie yelps when the warm wetness envelopes him. He'd flinch too, if Steve hadn't kept Eddie's legs and hips in place using his own weight. As it is, he can do nothing but gawk, mouth drying where it hangs open, as Steve bobs his head up and down Eddie's dick.

It feels wrong to watch. Like this isn't meant for Eddie, even if it directly involves him. He'd sooner shave off his hair than look away, though. This is the front-row seat to the show of his life; he doesn't give a fuck whether his name is on the ticket.

Steve goes slow and deep, hollowing his cheeks and swirling his tongue. Drool trickles from the corner of his mouth, gliding along the shaft.

Eddie's panting, chest heaving so fast his lungs barely have time to gather oxygen. The sweat is pouring, pooling by his neck and in his palm and on his forehead. His vision blurs and darkens; he blinks to clear it because he has to see this. Has to drink in every second because his gut is already tightening, balls drawing up.

Steve pulls off, gasping for breath, but quickly resumes, flattening his tongue and running it up and down Eddie's swollen cock, so ready to burst it's turning purple. Steve's eyes are molten gold when he catches Eddie's gaze. Sizzling and gorgeous; they make Eddie whimper. Steve smiles, lips shiny and cheeks flushed. Then he drags his tongue over the bulging vein on the underside of Eddie's cock, moaning in bliss.

Eddie comes, a high-pitched whine ripped from his throat. He sags into the couch cushions, boneless, too weak to watch Steve lap the sticky spunk off his softening dick, but perfectly able to feel it. So he lies, eyes closed, breathing and feeling, breathing and feeling.

When done cleaning, Steve crawls up the length of him to collapse half on top of Eddie, half wedged between him and the couch's backrest. His own erection bumps Eddie's hipbone.

Eddie slurs, "Hey, d'you wan' me to…?"

Steve chuckles and presses a kiss on Eddie’s jaw.

"Dude, you're so out of it. Give yourself a break first, and then we'll see. Maybe we'll do it next time."

"Okay," Eddie sighs.

He snuggles closer to Steve and his warmth. The living room lights are too bright and it reeks of sweat and come and a chill is settling on his dick since Steve didn't pull his pants back up. It's quiet, though, excepting Steve's soft breathing, and the way Steve is stroking Eddie's stomach is really nice.

He relaxes in Steve's embrace, thinking about next time.

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No taglist this time; don't ask for one unless you want to vex me.

Lesson 3 (eventually)

#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #steddie #steddie fanfic #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie fic: lesson/plan #my writing

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