#had to go out into the snow on under two hours' sleep to get groceries

[ereborne]

Song of the Day: February 17

“DYWTYLM” by Sleep Token

[miyuhpapayuh]

nineteen.

“Oh, this place is gorgeous!” Zora exclaims, as they roll their suitcases inside of their cabin for the week. A much needed vacation.

“Ain't it? It was the third one I came past, had to book it.” Leon says, as they head through the larger than life living room. High ceilings became her favorite thing in an instant.

“Oh, yeah. The fridge, freezer and pantry are already stocked.” He says, stopping at the kitchen. Also another large area.

“How?” She asks, looking toward him.

“I might've taken a separate trip up here, found the closest grocery store— which is an hour out, might I add— and came back to stock it before I came to pick you up.” He says, shrugging like it was nothing.

“You are something else,” she laughs, “ proactive as hell, too!”

“Hey, I'm just making sure we got all we need, right here.” He taps the counter for emphasis, as she laughs again.

“You succeeded, for sure!”

Moving upstairs to the master bedroom, they immediately plop down on the alaskan king bed, laying flat on the clean & cozy comforter.

“Yeah, a week’s worth of sleep in this bed is gonna do me some good!” Leon says, turning his head to look at Zora, who wholeheartedly agrees.

“You and me, both! I might forget I have a job and just stay here.” She laughs, folding her arms behind her head.

“Right?! Stay right here, tucked away with my favorite lady.” He rolls over, her giggles sounding as he lays his weight on her.

Actually sprawling out and getting comfortable, clad in their sweats and sweatshirts, they turn their focus toward the beautiful view through the bay window.

“You think it'll snow?” She asks.

“I'm sure. It's cold as hell out there.” He responds, laying his head on her chest, his eyes following the pattern of clouds in the sky.

“Good. I haven't seen snow since I was a little kid, it seems.”

“Yeah, we get slush, most of the time.”

“Right? Can't drive in it, can't walk on it, can't build a snowman in it,” she goes on, making him laugh. “It's ridiculous. I want the flurries!”

“You'll get ‘em, babe. Count on it.” He assures, closing his eyes as sleep creeps up on him.

“You going to sleep, old man?” She teases.

“Mhm, it's getting me.” He responds. “You stayin’ up?”

“Nah, I'm next.” She admits, stretching her arms above her head, a yawn coming right after.

“Yeah, a good twelve hour drive’ll do that to ya..” He mumbles, a yawn stealing the last half of his sentence.

Mumbling back something just as incoherent, they eventually get quiet and knock out under each other.

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Padding through the open space in her fuzzy socks, she moves into the kitchen to open the freezer, then the fridge, laughing to herself as they are indeed, fully stocked.

“He's so cute,” she shakes her head, pulling two waters out before closing it back.

Moving in front of another large window, she sighs in contentment. This week was gonna be fun.

In the midst of her daze, Leon slides up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. She smiles to herself.

“Hey,” he says, kissing the crown of her head.

“Hey,” she responds, holding up a water bottle, “I was on my way back.. just had to stop and stare for a minute.”

“I wasnt trippin’,” he says, taking the water from her, barely detaching himself from her as he took a swig. “Thought I'd come and see where you were, though. I started missing you.”

She giggles, turning to face him and that toothy smile of his. He leans down to kiss her lips a few times.

“Three minutes is all it takes?”

“Try three seconds! I stayed put so you didn't think I was crazy.” He says, making her laugh again.

“Aw, you were gonna sniff after me like a puppy, huh?” She teases, taking a sip of her own water.

“Unashamed, baby.” He replies, shrugging his shoulders.

“Again, how lucky am I?”

He smirks, pulling her right back into him, his fingers twirling around the ends of her curly ponytail.

“The luckiest is what I am. You're just getting everything you've always deserved.” He says, kissing her nose.

“Don't make me cry, our tears might freeze out here.” She jokes, even though he's already wiping her lone one away.

“Sorry,” he smiles, “but you do deserve it.”

“So do you, babe. Sweetest man in the land.”

“In the whole land??”

“The whole thang, Avery!” She exclaims. “I mean, really.”

Moving further into the living room, they cut the tv on and sit on the spacious couch, pulling the throw blanket over themselves.

“I'm so glad we could take this trip. We definitely needed it.” Leon says, while Zora flips through the channels to find something worth watching.

“Me too. It's been a hectic month, that January.” She playfully scolds.

“Tell me about it! If I had to work another day in that damned warehouse, I woulda quit.”

“Hm. Ever thought about quitting?” She asks, sitting the remote down once she finds some cartoons.

“Yeah, actually. I don't see myself staying there very long.”

“What would you wanna do instead? What's always been something you wanna take up?”

“Photography has always been at the forefront of my mind. Seeing the beauty of the world through a lens is something special. Writing is definitely right behind it. Like, maybe not publish a book, but getting on stage and performing pieces is the coolest.”

She nods, the wheels already turning in her head. “Two really great career choices for you.”

“You think so?” He asks, looking at her now. She nods again.

“You're a beast with the camera and your writing brings me to tears, so yeah! A shoe-in.”

“Glad I have your support, beautiful.” He kisses her forehead.

“Any time, any day.”

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Waking up again, this time lazily sprawled out on the sofa, Zora stretches and looks toward the kitchen, finding Leon, preparing dinner.

Peering over at her for the thousandth time, his smile brightens as he finds her awake. She's rubbing her eyes, the side of her face still pressed to the pillow she's laid on.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” he calls out, chuckling as she waves, still too sleepy to verbally respond. Her sighs and grumbles sound as she stirs a bit more.

Staring out the window to the left of the living room, the deep blue, ever-starry sky as it begins to melt into an even deeper blue.

“Sorry,” she finally speaks, “I had no idea I was this sleepy.”

He waves her off. “Don't be. We came out here to relax, babe. Get all the sleep you need and want.”

“Mmkay,” she says, covering herself back up in the blanket, immediately cackling as he stomps over to get her up.

“No right now, Jean!” He laughs, lightly shaking her. “I'm cooking!”

“I'm just playing, you big baby!” She snickers, taking his hand as he leads her toward the island, sitting her atop a stool and kissing her forehead, before heading back to the stove.

“So, what you makin’?” She asks, feeling her stomach rumble from the yummy smell of spices and herbs.

“Decided to make a loaded potato soup.” He says with his back still to her, but she can hear the excitement in his voice.

“Yummy! Do you need me to do anything?”

“Mhm, just sit there and look pretty for me.” He responds, turning around in time for her eye-roll.

“I knew it!” He laughs, turning back to what he's doing. “But you can actually slice this French bread and put it in the oven for me.”

Hopping up, she heads over to the counter to wash her hands, about to look for a knife when he carefully hands her one, another forehead kiss coming her way.

She smiles at the affection, bumping his hip before pulling the bread from its bag, slicing half of it to her liking, the other half to his liking. Sticking them on a baking sheet, she placed a pad of butter on each one before sliding in the oven.

“Wow, that was so much work.” She jokes, making him laugh.

“Stop clowning and taste this,” he says, cupping his hand underneath the spoon he was holding out for her.

As soon as the food hits her taste buds, she nods and closes her eyes. “Leon, I swear to god.”

“It's good, ain't it?” He asks, already nodding and laughing, the sound doubling as she joins in. They share a high-five.

“It's absolutely delicious! Hell, add being a chef to that list, cause wow.” She exclaims before whipping around to retrieve the bread before it burns.

Indulging in the comfort meal, Zora is still singing his praises with every bite, boosting his confidence like no other.

“My big head is gonna be your fault, I just want you to know now.” He laughs.

“That's fine! I ain't ever had food this good— don't tell Pam.” She snickers, taking another sip of her wine.

“I thought first-naming mamas was off limits?” He asks.

“It is, that's why I said don't tell her!” She exclaims, earning another laugh from him.

“Tellin’ her as soon as we get back,” he teases, pulling her glass away to refill it, reveling in the delight on her face.

“I never get to indulge in my wine, so thank you.” She smiles, putting the glass back up to her lips.

“My pleasure.”

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After dinner, Zora decided to take her shower first, slipping into the master bathroom and instantly pouting at the sight of an orange puff and matching rag, her favorite body wash, and her towel already hanging on the rack for her.

“Ugh, he's so cute!” She tipsily giggles, peeling her clothes off and heading into the walk-in shower, singing along to the music that's playing further down the hall.

Wetting her curls underneath the hot, hot water, she sighs blissfully as she scrubs her troubles— read: none— away.

Watching the suds go down the drain, she turns the water off and reaches around for her towel, wrapping it around herself, wringing out her curls before throwing them up in a bun.

Stepping into the slippers he'd also laid out for her, she waltzes back into the room, finding him sitting on the edge of the bed, camera in hand.

“Hey, stand right there!” He excitedly says, pulling the camera back up to his face, snapping a picture of her where she stands. Of course, she posed for it.

“Camera ready, huh?” He chuckles as she crosses the floor to him, laughing at the picture as he holds it up for her to see.

“I look so cheesy,” she snorts, sitting down beside him.

“Cheesin’ hard as hell, baby.” He adds, looking over at her just as she leans in to kiss him. A dazed smile on her face as she pulls away.

“What was that for?” He asks, smiling just like she.

“Cause I love you.” She simply says, making his heart thud in his chest.

“I love you more, sweetheart.” He leans back in for another kiss. Then another, swapping out the camera for the sides of her face as the kisses get a bit deeper.

She giggles against his lips, pulling away a bit breathless as she looks at him, the stars in the night sky not comparing to the ones in both of their eyes.

“Go shower and come back, I got things I wanna do to you.” She softly says, biting her lip as he stands from the bed, hovering over her damp body.

“You have no idea, baby.” He mumbles back, nuzzling his face against hers for a couple seconds, reluctantly pulling away and all but rushing out of the room, because he knew he'd get started, right then and there, if he didn't.

Letting out a breathless laugh, she shakes the chills away and sprints over to her bag, pulling out the white hot babydoll dress. She smirks and holds it up to her smooth, chocolate skin, staring straight ahead at the mirror in the corner of the room.

“Oh, yeah.” She nods, reaching for her sandalwood body lotion and deodorant, lathering herself in the smell-good and pulling the dress on her thick frame, more than pleased with how she looks.

Pulling her semi-dry curls from its bun, she shakes them so they fall over her shoulders, perfectly tousled.

She sits in his spot, grabs his camera, careful not to drop it due to her tipsiness and takes a few pictures for him to find later, before sitting it on the dresser.

After what felt like forever, he returned to the room with a towel covering his waist, his hand rubbing down his face before his eyes landed on the beauty that is Zora.

The air leaves his lungs for a few moments, his lips part to say something, hands twitch slightly as his mouth salivates. His print became more noticeable at the sight before him.

“You like it, don't you?” She asks, her deep, teasing tone making the hairs on his neck stand up.

Still unable to speak, he nods.

His eyes travel from her pretty face to the swell of her breasts, her soft thighs, the gold anklet adorning her left ankle and her pretty olive painted toes. The white lace against her skin is his new favorite thing.

“You.. you look so pretty, baby.” He finally speaks, making her smile and motion for him to come closer, til he's standing before her.

“All for you.” She says, cupping his chin to pull him closer to her lips, sighing at the softness of his kisses. It was his turn to breathlessly pull away.

“Wow… I wanna take a picture, but I think I might drop my camera,” he nervously laughs, shyly rubbing his hands up her thighs.

“It's okay, baby.” She softly assures him, covering his hands with her own. “You want me to take it for you?”

She swore she saw his pupils dilate at such a question, his fingers digging into her flesh now. She smirks, loving the way she makes him crumble.

“I can pose for you, again.” She further teases, walking her fingers up and down his bare, ripped stomach, stopping at the knot in his towel.

The doe-eyed look she's giving him could turn him into a puddle, as he stumbles out a yes.

Standing from the bed, she grabs the camera from the nightstand, luckily still having a conscious enough mind to steady her hands, as she climbs up and sits on her knees, finding the timer setting before sitting it at an angle on the bed.

Staying in her bent position, she quickly flips her hair and arches her back as the flash goes off. His eyes travel right to her bare ass peeking from underneath the short lingerie.

“My god,” he sighs, moving to sit on the ottoman out of the way, feeling all the blood in his head rush south.

“I got the best seat in the house.” He darkly chuckles, waving as she looks back at him.

Moving into her next position, she turns to face him now, hands on her boobs, her lip deeply into and her eyes on him through the lens.

“Stick your fingers in your mouth… mhm, like that.” He grunts, palming his hard dick through the towel that's barely around his waist still.

Sitting through one more pose, he groans out her name, unable to take any more teasing.

She grabs the camera from the bed, turns it off and begins to get off the bed, when he slips it out of her hand and fiddles with it before sitting it down on the nightstand, hovering over her, backing her back up on the bed.

Her heart is thudding in her chest, she leans on her elbows and watches him eye her body like a precious diamond. She never felt so delicate in her life.

Her fingers reach out to undo the barely hanging on tuck of his towel, purring as it reveals his hard and pretty dick.

“Please fuck me.” She moans, lifting a leg to place it on his shoulder. His mouth waters double time at how flexible she is, coupled with how wet she is.

The day she took up yoga as a hobby was worth it, especially if it was gonna lead her to moments like this.

“I got you, princess.” He pulls her other leg up, taps the head against her clit, rubbing against it to make her jerk, her hooded eyes finding his as he slides all the way inside, groaning something terrible.

“Fuuckk!” She moans incredulously, that delicious snug grip tripping both of them up as he begins thrusting into her.

Her breasts bounce underneath the soft material, her nipples peeking through the lace, and he can't help but swirl his tongue around her left, then her right one.

“It's sso good,” she throws her head back, “oh fuck, that's so good baby!”

Deep and fast, right into her spot, making her see stars with every thrust. Her hands reach out for his arms, squeezing for dear life.

“You feel so fucking good, baby,” he desperately growls into her ear, “fuckin’ smell so good, I ju— just wanna eat you alive.”

Her breath hitches as he bites down on her neck, soothing it with his tongue after. Her body flattens against the bed, her legs still propped up on his shoulders.

“Leon… fuck, baby,” she whines, while he kisses up her ankles, then her chest and neck, his slippery tongue making her squeak out moans.

Overwhelmed in the best ways, she closes her eyes and lays her hands at her head, smiling as his hands find hers, linking them together as he deeply strokes into her.

“I love you,” he says with a kiss to her lips. “I adore you,” next, her left cheek. “Fuckin’ treasure you,” her right cheek. “God, you wreck me…”

She deliriously moans at his confessions against her heated skin, feeling her stomach tingle and curl as her orgasm gets closer to the surface.

“So damn beautiful,” he grumbles into her neck, open mouthed kisses and sucks make her slipperier in between her legs, her ankles lock around his neck, ultimately pulling him closer. His strokes never falter, getting deeper.

“I'm gonna cum all over you,” she gasps, squeezing their hands, their lips just a few centimeters away from each other.

“Cum all over me, baby… let me have it,” he groans, nipping at her quivering bottom lip, “I feel you, baby.. let it out for me.”

Her body spasms as she cries out, flooding his lap and the sheets underneath them, his hips still slamming into hers.

“Oh, b-baby!” She squeals, his lips covering hers to swallow her every breath, consuming her like he desperately wishes.

Releasing her hands, they find her thighs, pulling them down to wrap around his waist as he continues to dip into her ever-wet paradise.

Her whines and gasps hit the back of his throat, his tip pushing right into the spot that's got her leaking down both of their thighs.

Letting her come up for air, she beats against his chest, crying out, “it's too much! Fuck, I'm g-gonna cum again, baby!”

Grabbing her chin, he watches as her eyes flutter back open, landing on his intense gaze.

“There she is,” he smirks, “cum for me, beautiful.”

Her release triggers his own, as they fall into each other, moaning and gasping for air as they rut their hips until they can't anymore.

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The next couple days went by as slow as molasses, much to the couples’ liking. They were having way too much fun doing absolutely nothing but what they wanted.

“I can't remember the last time I was away from my phone this long,” he says, popping another handful of popcorn into his mouth.

“Same. It's still got a good charge on it from a day ago,” she snorts, snuggling into his side a bit more.

“You alright?” He asks, looking over at her.

“Yeah, just cold.” She softly laughs, tucking her hands in the pocket of her hoodie.

“Want me to turn the heat up?”

“Please?” She asks, snickering as he reaches out his impeccably long arm to the thermostat on the wall above their heads, pushing it up to seventy-eight.

She thanks him, and he kisses her forehead as they turn their attention to the movie. Tonight they were watching monster house. Another favorite of hers, his too.

“These kids were bad as hell,” Leon snorts.

“That's not you and Craig??” She looks between him and the movie, laughing at his shameful nod.

“Yeah, you got me there.” He chuckles. “Who's the girl, then?” He asks, keeping it going.

“Me! Duh!” She scoffs a laugh.

“Oh yeah, they were coupled up near the end, weren't they?”

“Yeah! I mean, they fought over her just about the entire movie, but DJ got his girl.” She nods, popping a handful of popcorn into her mouth.

“Hm..”

“What?”

“Halloween ideas,” he shrugs. “He's got like a Freddy Kruger thing goin’ on with that black and red sweater but.. I could make it work.”

“You wanna be DJ and Jenny for Halloween??” She gushes, making him decide right then and there.

“The look on your face is too precious for me to say  nothing but yes.” He smiles.

“Aw, this is gonna be so cute!” She squeals, making him laugh and kiss her cheek.

“I gotta find a schoolgirl-esque outfit, now.” She taps her chin, while he smirks to himself.

“Short skirt, huh?” He asks.

“Nope. It's gonna come past my knees.” She answers, snickering at the stale look he gives her.

“I'll cut it.”

“I'll cut you.” She quips.

“You'd cut me, for real??”

“Hm… if you ever cut me off again, yes.” She nods, turning her attention back to the movie.

He sighs, pulling her into his side more. “I won't test it, trust me.”

“Good. I'd hate for you to get dotted up.”

About an hour or so into their movie marathon, a few white specks fall out of the corner of her eye, making Zora turn her head and gasp super hard.

“What? What??” Leon asks, looking around and then in the direction she's facing, relieved to find it snowing outside and not it being an ax murderer standing at the window.

“It's snowing!”

“Aw, look at that. Let's go put our boots on and go outside.” He says, standing up and reaching for her hand, which she quickly takes and they head upstairs to get dressed.

Soon, they're outside in it, bundled up and still shivering but ecstatic at how much snow is actually coming down.

“Wow! It's a literal winter wonderland out here!” She yells, clearly too excited to contain herself. Of course Leon brought his camera out to capture this moment.

“On a scale from one to a million, how happy are you right now?” He asks.

“A jillion and three!” She excitedly jumps, both of them laughing as he snaps her picture.

“Seriously it's been decades since I've seen actual snow! The little kid in me is ready to make a snowman! You down?!”

“Hell yeah!”

Of course their game began with a snowball fight, like the two big kids they are.

“You've got an arm like Elf!” She screams, ducking and laughing as another snowball comes hurling at her face. “Why are you throwing them so fast?!”

Meanwhile, he's having the time of his life, chucking snowballs like a madman. Laughing his ass off at the way her tiny frame keeps popping up and down out of sight.

“Leon!” She screams again, this time, popping him right in the face with her own snowball. It had been the only one to connect so far.

"I did it! Woo-hoo!"

Her victory dance made the ice on his face worth it, as he wiped it away. She was having so much fun and he was soaking it all up.

“You got me!”

“I did! Finally!”

After pelting each other with snow a little more, they moved on to making their snowman. A first for both of them.

“I helped Eryn make one— well, I tried to help her but I got frustrated fast and gave up.” Leon says as they roll the first ball for the base.

“How old were y'all?” She asks out of curiosity.

“Ten or so? Yeah.”

“Avery, you've been impatient all your life?” She cracks, thankful that he laughed.

“Blame my parents, and my stubbornness I suppose.” He shrugs, before nudging her. “I was patient with you, though. Don't that count for something?”

“Absolutely,” she giggles, looking away from him to get herself together.

“But, we're gonna make this snowman!” She says, now looking him back in his eyes. He holds his hands up.

“Yes ma'am!”

Finishing the base was surprisingly easy since they didn't make it gigantic, just big enough. Moving onto the middle ball, however, proved to be a bit more difficult. It kept cracking in the middle.

His irritated grumbles and huffs and puffs of frosted air were all that could be heard, while he tried working through his frustration. Zora placed her gloved hands on top of his, hoping it would calm him down.

“Leon, it's okay. Relax.” She softly speaks.

“I don't know why it's not working,” he chuckles, being far from amused.

“Because why not. It's always the simplest of things that don't always go as planned. But beating the snow isn't gonna turn it into a ball, baby.”

He huffs, again. “I know.”

“I gotta teach you what patience is.”

“I know patience.”

“Yeah, not well enough. Come on.” She says before moving to an area with a bit more snow, beginning to roll a ball out of it.

He saunters over and helps, biting his lip in concentration as they roll the middle and top, thanking god they stuck together perfectly.

“See?! We did it!” She cheers, elated as he slaps her open palm.

“We did! Now we gotta make the face!” He exclaims, excitedly looking around for a stick.

Berries for the eyes, a stick for the arms and nose, and Zora’s scarf completed their snowman, and Leon wasted not a second to take a picture of their masterpiece.

“Awww, he's the cutest snowman ever!” She laughs, pulling her scarf from around it carefully, as they head inside.

“I'm glad we could do that. It was really fun.” He says, locking the patio door behind them, sitting their boots on the mat to dry, as they shed their wet jackets, gloves and hats.

“Yeah, it was. I can't feel my fingers or toes, but I had a great time!” She says, taking a seat on the floor by the fireplace as Leon comes over to get it going.

“Hm.. do we have stuff to make s'mores?” She asks, humming a laugh at the smirk on his face.

“I'll be right back.”

Reaching up to grab the blanket from the couch, she wraps it around herself just as he's coming back with everything they needed.

“You really thought of everything!”

“I told you!”

Sitting the plates down with everything else, he gently peels the blanket from her, pulls her in between his thighs and wraps it around them both.

“Better?” She asks.

“Much.” He answers, kissing her cheek as he leans them forward to put their marshmallows on the sticks, handing one to her as they hold it over the fire.

Moving on to smash it between two graham crackers and rich pieces of hershey's chocolate, they munch on the staple campfire snack in pure contentment.

“I might eat like twelve of these,” she laughs.

“We've got more of everything in the closet, too.” He snorts, “you can live your fat kid dreams, baby.”

“Ugh, I love you!” She yells.

“I know,” he smiles. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“How come you don't talk about your dad?” He asks.

“There's not much to talk about.” She shrugs. “Haven't seen him since I was thirteen. Barely knew of him when he was underneath the same roof we were.”

“Hm.”

“What about yours? I haven't ever heard you say much besides you despising him.”

“Eh, it's a bit more complicated. We weren't always at each other's throats. He just doesn't get me. Don't try to either. It's like nothing I did was good enough.” He shrugs.

“Fathers. What a joke.” She bitterly laughs. “Just promise me something?”

“Anything.”

“Don't be that kind of father to our baby.”

“You wanna have my baby, one day?” He asks, laying his head on shoulder, holding her closer.

“Of course I do, babe. Wanna marry you. Grow old. Get on your nerves forever.” She smiles like he can see her.

“Wow. I'll be the best father to our baby. Best husband to you. I promise. No doubt, I wanna marry you.”

“Hell, we could get married right now!” Zora laughs, quickly shaking her head. “It's still too soon for that.”

He laughs and agrees. “Just a bit more time. And, I promise I won't buy one of those stadium rings either. I don't need you fighting me.”

“I taught you well! I can't wait to tell Nique cause if it's one thing we hate, it's those goddamn rings!”

“They're humongous and ugly, yeah. I won't have you out here looking like that.”

“I've got one more question.” He says.

“What is it?”

“When you were teaching me patience out there… is that what love feels like?”

“That would have to be for you to answer, honestly. My answer is yes, but what's yours?” She asks, turning her head to look at him.

“That's the first time I didn't feel ridiculed for being impatient, so yes. You were patient even though I knew I was tapping on your nerves. That's definitely love.”

“I'm glad you feel that way. I've got all the patience and understanding in the world for you.” She says, peering up at him.

"I love you, Jean."

"And, I love you Avery."

They share a sticky kiss, before getting back to munching on their treat.

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“Do we really have to leave today?” She asks, pouting all over again.

“I know, I don't wanna leave either. But we have to. Gotta go back home and make money for our next trip.” He smiles to himself.

“What?” She whips around to look at him, halting her packing. “Next trip? Where are we going?”

“Yes, where are we going?” He repeats, looking over at her now.

“I get to choose??”

“Mhm.” He nods, a smile still on his face.

“Hm. Yeah, we better hurry back cause I wanna go to Bora Bora. That's one of the most romantic places to visit!”

“I'll start looking at hotels— you wanna stay in a hut, don't you?”

“You know me so well!”

“I do, I do.”

“Oooh, a springtime vacation is always on my list! Me and the girls usually take one, but I'm sure all our plans have changed since finding rockheaded boyfriends.” She laughs.

“Rockheaded? What did my head do to you??” He asks, faux hurt.

“Nothing,” she giggles, waltzing over to him to rub the back of his head.

“Ah, now you adding insult to injury!” He laughs, swatting her hand away, which turns into them play-fighting.

A couple slaps to his arms and stomach, before her world turns upside down, literally, as he picks her up and slams her down on the bed, both of them laughing like crazy.

“That's no fair!” She faux whines.

“I'll let you win, one day.” He laughs, leaning down to kiss her lips a couple sweet times.

@thegifstories @blackerthings @sheabuttahwrites @ghostfacekill-monger @miyahmaraj @harmshake @honestpreference @twistedcharismaaa @nayaesworld @nayaxwrites @blowmymbackout @headcannonxgalore @mauvecherie-writes @cecereads209

[icybluepenguin]

A Cozy Evening

Summary: A snowstorm is building up outside and you hunker down with Astarion, a fire, some cider, and your knitting. For the #BG3HolidayFluffle23 prompt "cozy"

Pairing: Astarion/GN!Tav(reader)

Tags: post-game, knitting, coziness, short utter domestic FLUFF

--

The snow was coming down fast enough to make it hard to see, thick clouds blocking the sun and making everything look flat and dim. 

You hurried down the last few streets, wishing you could wipe the snow from your face but not willing to put down your armful of baskets. 

“Oh my gosh!” you exhaled as you tumbled through your front door, muffled by your scarf.  “Boo was right about this storm!”  You put your baskets and packages on the dining table and stripped off your mittens and unwound your scarf and peeled off your powder-dusted cloak.  “Astarion?” 

That was odd, he usually welcomed you home with a light complaint about taking too long or a whine about the cat not loving him as much as you or some other ridiculousness.  He couldn't have gone out.  The sun was still up, although between the thick clouds and the heavy snow, it was hard to tell. 

You kicked off your boots, wiggling your very cold toes.  The shopping could wait to be put away, you wanted to get warm first. 

You had left Astarion sitting in his armchair by the fireplace with a book.  When you walked closer, you saw his book on the arm of the chair, but Astarion was nowhere to be seen.  And on the fur in front of the fire was a pile of blankets. 

“Astarion?” you asked in disbelief, poking the pile with your toe.  You could just see the tip of Astarion's ear as he lay facedown on the fur. 

“‘S warm,” he mumbled.  “Fell asleep.”

“Can't blame you there.”  The house was much colder than normal and Astarion loved being warm, even if this seemed a little extreme.  He must have had at least three blankets piled on him.   “Make space for me?”

With a groan, he rolled onto his side and moved the blankets so that you could sit down in front of him.  He started to curl around you, then hissed.  “You're cold.”

“Give me a minute, I just got home.  I was half snow monster by the time I got to the door.”  You'd gone out a few hours ago to get some last minute supplies for the storm, in case you were stuck inside for days.  Food and treats for you, healing potions and scrolls so Astarion could drink from you without worry, and a few new books, among other things. 

“Did Gorukk have anything good today?”  Astarion's voice was slow & deep with sleep. 

“Mm-hm.”  You wanted to stroke the tip of his ear, slightly flushed from the heat, but your fingers were still chilled.  “A history and two romances that looked decent.  I also got a guide to Zakhara, if we want to pretend we're somewhere warm.”

“I am somewhere warm.”

“You can't stay on the floor forever.”

“Watch me.”  He rolled back over onto his stomach with a small huff. 

You slowly got to your feet, but one of Astarion's hands snuck out to grab your ankle. 

“I'm just going to get some cider.  If we’re going to stay on the floor, I want to be cozy too.”  You extracted your foot from long pale fingers which then disappeared back into the mass of blankets.  Smiling, you gathered your baskets from the table and headed to the kitchen.  

As you put away the groceries, you found one of your other purchases tucked under them.  You stuck the package under your arm, then ladled out two steaming mugs of the cider you've had mulling on the stove all day. 

You set one mug down near Astarion's buried head and put the other in front of your spot, sitting cross-legged by his stomach.  With a sip of cider warming your throat, you tear off the paper wrapping of your purchase, revealing a big soft ball of yarn and a set of needles. 

It had been a while since you had knit anything, but you had seen the yarn and knew it was the perfect thing to do in a snowstorm.  You had fond memories of your father teaching you how to knit as you spent the days on his fishing boat, waiting for a catch. 

“What's that?” Astarion's head poked out of his burrow, no doubt attracted by the sound of the paper and hoping it was a surprise for him. 

“Just some yarn I picked up.”  You wove the yarn through your fingers and looped it over the needles in a quick, practiced motion.  You wondered if your hands would ever forget how to do this, it was as natural as breathing.  “I'm going to knit some warmer socks.”

Astarion watched with fascination.  The way your fingers darted to and fro, the smooth rhythm of it- it was a bit hypnotic. 

“I didn't know you could do that.”

“Hush, I’m counting.”  Satisfied you had cast on a decent number of stitches, you paused for some cider.  “Do you want to learn?”

“I… Yes.”  He sat up, pushing blankets out of the way. 

You held up your project.  “Hold the needles and the yarn like this,” you demonstrated, “Then, take this needle and slide it into the stitch over here.  Wrap the yarn around… pull it through and off.”

You handed him the needles, putting your hands on top of his to find the right grip.  “Good.  Now slip the needle in… Wrap around… Oh, you're good at this.” 

“You've seen me unlock chests harder than this, darling.”

“I've seen you blow them up too, so let's not get carried away,” you teased.  “I haven't taught you how to purl yet.”  

You were unsurprised when his fumbling beginner movements became sure and smooth within a few stitches.  The things this man could do with his hands…

His grip loosened on the needles as he became more comfortable, the yarn flowing smoothly from the ball to his dexterous fingers.  You smiled, cradling your mug in your hands.  You could watch him all night. 

“And this will become a sock?” 

“After a lot of knitting, yes.  And then you have to make the second one.”  You grimace dramatically.  “We used to carry our knitting everywhere, on the boats, in the pastures, walking to town.  Any moment your hands weren't busy was a chance to be knitting.”

“Perhaps a habit to get back into.  These needles could do considerable damage to someone's eye.”

You shook your head fondly.  “A friend of mine stabbed someone in the thigh with one.  It was horrific, it went in more than an inch.  I've used one to jimmy a lock more than once.”

His eyes lit up at that.  You looked up at the heavy snow swirling past your window, a small frown developing on your face.

“What are you thinking about?” Astarion asked.

You heaved a long sigh.  “I should have gotten more yarn.”

-

Master Post

[wildbornsiren]

12 Days of Fluffmas!: Snowed In || Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw/F!Reader

Snowed In. Summary: Bradley takes you on a weekend trip to a cabin.  916 words Female/AFAB reader (established relationship.) Warnings: Non-explicit sex, fluff, established relationship.  Notes: Day nine of the 12 days of Fluffmas!  Comments and reblogs fuel my writing, likes are appreciated. Thank you so much for reading, it’s appreciated and means the most.     **Tag list is done. Please follow and turn on notifications for @wbslibrary​ **

A weekend getaway in a cabin. That’s what Bradley had offered as an apology for the early morning shenanigans of a hike that had ended up with the two of you covered in snow and warming up in the bronco the only way to people desperately in love could. It was Hangman’s property and he had loaned the keys to Bradley, under the condition that it be left in the same condition it was found. Not quite reassured by Bradley’s snickering, Hangman only released his grip on the keys when you stepped in, promising that you would keep your boyfriend in line.

The drive was nice, a few hours out of San Diego, but still within the time limit of travel if Bradley was called in. You stare in awe through the windshield at the cabin at the end of a winding dirt road. A two-story log cabin with a wrap around porch, nestled in the midst of towering pine trees covered in snow. “Bradley,” you turn away from the view, to look at your boyfriend. “It’s beautiful. Our own little winter wonderland.” You’re unbuckling your seatbelt, bounding out of the bronco. The snow is up powdery and soft, flurries cascading from the gray sky. “If you grab the bag, I’ll bring in the supplies.” Bradley wraps around you from behind, placing a kiss to the crown of your head. “Then you can explore to your heart’s content.” Instead, the two of you end up tangled together in the kitchen. Bradley is gentle, hands wandering, mouth pressing soft kisses to heated skin as you unwrap each other, shedding winter clothes. When he presses you against the kitchen island, you hop up onto it, his hands steadying you, pulling you closer to the edge. You’ve often teased that Bradley’s built to fuck, but when he’s got it in mind to show you how gently he can love you, it’s overwhelming. And so, so good. You stay perched on the countertop afterward, watching him put away the groceries, shirtless, gray sweats riding low on tanned hips. A cup of coffee is cradled in your hands, and when those deep brown eyes meet yours, you can’t help but hide your smile behind the rim of your mug. “Shower then unpack?” He asks, easily lifting the mug from your hands and taking a sip. You nod, and Bradley helps you down from the counter, scooping up the bag and following you to the bedroom. Shower abandoned in lieu of getting tangled up again, this time under a down comforter and high thread count sheets. Once more, he’s slow and gentle, making love—making up for lost time from trainings and mission briefings. You’ve been in love before, but the way Bradley loves you is different. Every kiss, every brush of fingers against your skin, the way he murmurs your name in post-orgasm bliss, you don’t want to let it go. It's well past midnight when you wake up. Bradley’s sprawled out on his stomach, one arm draped over you as he snores softly. You sit up, watching the sleeping man. The moonlight on the snow illuminates the room, casting his face into soft shadows. Fingertips graze along his cheek, the edge of his mustache, thumb brushing his lower lip. His breathing eases, deepening, leveling out. He looks so relaxed, peaceful. When he’s awake, he’s all angles and sharp edges, coiled tight ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice. But right now? He's soft. It’s one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen. It’s been so easy to love him, be with him. Six months was all it took for him to have your heart in his hands. Six months for you to trust him with it. Six months to realize that there’s nothing you can’t do without this man by your side. And how fiercely you’d protect this peace he keeps hidden away. Your stomach has other plans, and it rumbles loudly. Untangling yourself from Bradley and the blankets you pull on a pair of pj pants and a sweatshirt, padding barefoot to the kitchen. You make yourself a sandwich and knowing Bradley won’t be long behind you (the man cannot sleep in a bed alone), you make a second, putting both on a plate. You curl up on the couch that’s in front of a wall of windows overlooking the woods, pulling another heavy blanket over your lap. It’s snowing again, fat white flakes dropping rapidly from the sky. It’s quiet, peaceful and beautiful.   “Really coming down, isn’t it?” Bradley asks, lounging in the doorway of the bedroom, watching you. “We might get snowed in.” You pat the couch next to you. “Made you a sandwich.” He chuckles, settling next to you under the blankets. “Snowed in huh? Whatever shall we do.” He takes the sandwich and kisses your cheek. “I don’t know Bradshaw,” you say dryly, teasing him. “I bet you could come up with a few ideas to occupy our time.” “Parcheesi.” Bradley responds. “I packed it.” “I’m more of a Yahtzee girl.” “I’ll have you screaming, honey, but it won’t be Yahtzee.” Bradley chuckles softly, taking the plate from your lap, putting it on the coffee table. “Should I show you now or later, the plans I have for us.” His mouth drags softly against your neck, your fingers coming up to tangle in his hair, toying with the curls. “Sleep now, flyboy.” You pull him closer, taking his weight and warmth happily. /end

[dragoon811]

I am so so tired

What is a rest? What is a good night's sleep? My oldest has a cold and is clingy. My youngest has gone from a kiddo with a good sleep routine and a nighttime cuddle to having the biggest tantrums EVER. I spent THREE hours last night getting her to bed.

I don't know how I stayed calm. I don't.

I say tantrum I mean shrieking "NO! YOU STUPID!" and kicking and hitting and running off and sobbing like she's being murdered and hiding under beds, in closets, etc. Like... please understand. She is a very sweet child. Frilly flannel nightgown with minnie mouse on it. Little wispy hair. Just a full-on nightmare.

And then I had to get the older to sleep. Because it has to be mommy. And she took another HOUR to go to sleep! T__T.

Like...I work full time. I do the grocery shopping. The meal-planning. Wrangling daycare and school. I do most of the cooking. I still have 2 loads of laundry to fold. By time I get the kids to bed? It's too late to vacuum so I pick stuff up by hand and put it in the garbage. I wish I had hardwood - at least I could mop at night. You look crazy, sweeping cheese off of carpet.

I come home and the List wasn't done. Put away laundry? I video'd everything - what it was, where it was. Closets and drawers are labeled. And there is still. laundry. not. put. away. OK. I'll just do it. Litterbox? Floor wasn't swept. Grab the broom and dustpan. Not enough litter put into the box. Do that, too.

Dishes? Hah! A paltry amount. A mountain awaiting wash. And the few that did get washed? Not properly clean.

Fill the diaper bag, make sure there's spare clothes. Wash out the lunch box. Brush hair. Eczema lotion. Style hair. Convince toddler to pick an outfit from the options presented. Meal-prep. School lunches- ensure they're allergy-friendly! School - events, check with teachers, return library books. Holidays! Gotta do valentines. Make sure snow pants are clean and dry. And coats. Don't forget to wash them once a week!

Change sheets. Clean couch cushion covers. Bath time! Let me clean your hair, clean your ears. Trim cats' claws. Play games to learn letters/words/taking turns. Color. Draw. Do Lego and playdoh to strengthen hand muscles.

Playdates/activities. Grocery shopping. Gas in the car. Bills. Clothes for children who seem determined to destroy or outgrow everything. Wear your bra til it falls apart because they're expensive.

Try to reach out to your friends at least once a week so you can TRY to maintain those relationships. It's usually a 5-minute phone call on your drive home because that is the only time you have to yourself.

Be constantly sick. Cry over the price of medicine. Cry over the cost of groceries. Try to find deals. This may mean driving all over town and four different stores.

And all of this dragging two kids and a husband you're taking care of but who would rather play video games for 10 hours and has memory problems. Wonder how much is the illness and how much is incompetence.

Get everything done. Sit...no energy for a book. No energy for a movie or show. No energy to knit or crochet. No energy to write.

Does...does it ever end?

[shares-a-vest]

Fruity Four Advent Calendar, Day 19: A Miracle

Prompt List

It will be a goddamn Christmas miracle if Steve and Eddie can get a full night's sleep with their daughter, Joanie, practically bouncing off the walls with excitement on Christmas Eve... Between calls from Robin, a late-night pop-in from Nancy with Christmas supplies, their menagerie of cats and Eddie trying to assemble Joanie's dollhouse, it's shaping up to be a long night of sleeplessness.

Word Count: 3200

Guys I've totally fallen off doing these prompts. Had crippling anxiety all last week bc I was going for Christmas lunch with my dad and I've been super down since. Shouts to anyone who has to deal with shitty parents this Christmas. Love you, you've got this 💖💖💖

'Operation Dollhouse'

Joanie tugs at the phone cord once again and, to save it from completely ripping out of the wall, Steve jumps up from the couch to follow the excited toddler around the living room. He really didn't want to have to move the couch on Christmas Eve to reach the socket. Joanie gestures wildly with her free hand, bobbing her head along with faint hums as she listens to Robin, presumably talking a mile a minute.

Robin's call was her fourth phone call of the day and the third interruption in Steve's attempt to get his three-year-old daughter into bed. She’s been practically bouncing off the walls since November when the first signs of Christmas started to appear (far too early displays at the grocery store and Christmas music on the radio the day after Thanksgiving) and now the energy is in overdrive.

"And Pa's coming in the morning!" she excitedly announces like Robin hasn't spent ten years' worth of celebrations in the same general vicinity as Wayne Munson. "And he promised to take me out in the snow."

She makes an attempt to climb up on her little pouffe by the window but Steve stops her, scooping her up with one arm.

"Nope, we are not climbing up to the window."

Joanie laughs, letting her hand holding the phone fall, slumping under Steve’s arm as he marches her back to the couch (and closer to the phone socket).

"Daddy just picked me up," she yells into the phone through giggles.

He plops her down on the couch and resumes his seat with a heavy sigh as Joanie straightens up, holding the phone to her ear once more.

"Alright, enough," Steve says, flailing to sound stern enough as he desperately tries to wind the conversation down. He sticks a hand out for the phone as Joanie stares him down with just as much seriousness.

"Bye, bye, Robbie. See you at Christmas," she says cheerily and hands over the phone at a glacial pace.

Disappointment fills her big, dark-brown eyes with the theatrics that only Eddie Munson's daughter could possibly possess. She cuddles into Steve's side, probably sulking, as he attempts to untangle the coiled phone cord.

"Ugh, Rob?" he starts, giving up and deciding to just talk with a limited cord length. "I gotta get her to bed."

"But my precious bean and I are having our girl talk!"

Joanie practically rolls off the couch and runs across the living room to the Christmas tree, stopping dead in front of it to look it over, glee twinkling in her eyes.

"You'll have all day tomorrow for that. I've been trying to get her to bed for two hours," Steve mumbles, still trying to convey his annoyance as covertly as possible.

"Where's Munson?"

He can't help but snort a laugh at the thought of Eddie in the garage, still, trying to assemble the dollhouse Joanie was getting from Santa.

"Still hard at work on the D-O-L-L-H-O-U-S-E?" Robin answers for him teasingly, rapid-fire spelling and cackling.

"Yes," he says, side-eyeing Joanie as she carefully examines the presents under the tree.

"Oh, I'll be teasing him tomorrow. Alrighty, Steve, love you. And don't you get up too early to start in the kitchen! Just chill the fuck out."

"Love you," he smiles and hangs up the phone, mustering any parental authority he has left from Christmas-time exhaustion.

"Joanie," he begins, cradling the phone in his lap. "It's bedtime. Go brush your teeth."

Surprisingly, she nods and heads for the bathroom. Despite the lack of protest, Steve doesn’t expect much. The same had happened before Robin called, panicking once more about exactly what she was bringing over for Christmas lunch. He busies himself with rearranging the couch cushions, always in a state of disarray after Joanie has been squirming around while talking on the phone.

He's about to head into the bathroom to check on the tooth brushing progress when Nancy comes fumbling in the front door, bags in hand and balancing a pie under her arm as she tries to unjangle the spare key from the front door lock.

"Help!" she says as she makes fleeting eye contact she with Steve.

He rushes to her, taking a bag and the pie, allowing her to yank the key from the sticking doorknob.

"Have you been at work?" he asks, incredulous as they enter the kitchen.

"The news never stops," she retorts with a tight-lipped smile as she sets her bags down on the cramped kitchen island and places her hands over them to explain. "Okay, I have my mother's pie recipe, the P-R-E-S-E-N-T-S. Well, some of them at least. Robbie is still wrapping hers. And wine."

She beams at that last part and Steve knows that his house is another stopover on Nancy and Robin’s busy, alcohol-fueled, seemingly never-ending December festivities as they party-hop all month long.

"I’m pre-preparing for Robin having a meltdown tomorrow, so I thought I’d just drop in my side of things to make it easier on myself," she continues, slipping the bag filled with presents down between the kitchen barstools, concealing them from curious not-so-little toddler eyes. "I’d really like us to have at least some relaxation in the morning over breakfast before the panic sets in."

Steve laughs, "She just called."

"Nancy!" Joanie gasps, standing at the line between the kitchen linoleum and the wood flooring.

"Are you still up?" Nancy teases, propping a hand on her hip and chancing a sly smirk at Steve.

"And we were just going to bed," he smiles sarcastically, making for the young girl. But she folds her arms in protest, the separation in flooring becoming, as it so often did, a battleground.

"Where is Daddy?"

"In the garage, honey."

She narrows her eyes, too much like Eddie for her own good. His absence had drawn suspicion all day, and there were only so many excuses Steve could concoct.

"He needs to read me a story," she insists.

"You already got a story. But I'll go get him to tuck you in."

She purses her lips, probably weighing up the bargain, eventually offering, "Can Nancy tuck me in?"

Before he can answer, Nancy picks her up.

"I can absolutely do that."

Steve mouths a, “thank you” as she passes him to move down the short hallway to Joanie's bedroom. He clamours for the radio on the kitchen counter, thinking, this is it. Joanie is finally going to sleep.

Dustin would probably give Steve and Eddie a lecture if he knew they used the emergency radios basically as a paging system between the apartment and their designated garage across the alleyway. Typically it was Eddie's studio but right now most of his music equipment was shoved to the side, making way for the dollhouse. The dollhouse that had taken him all week to assemble. And they still had to bring it upstairs and place the furniture in it.

"How's it going, Edward the Elf? Over."

"Fudge-off, Steve!"

"Eds, Nancy is helping Joanie into bed. And need I remind you, you have to say, ‘over’. Over."

"This is fucking bullshit, over."

"Can you come up and tuck Joanie in, she absolutely will not accept less than both of us."

"Fine. But, dude. I need your help."

Steve can feel his begging puppy eyes through the radio.

Nancy gets Joanie into bed without issue which, to Steve, is some combination of frustrating (considering he wrangles children for a living at preschool), a bruising to his super-parent ego and, ultimately, being thankful. Although, her persuasiveness is a continuing mark of her unwavering authority and Steve can’t argue with that. It has literally saved their lives time and again, after all. Eddie makes a flying appearance, hair frizzed in a messy bun and clearly half-stoned. He grumbles something about the garage being, "Santa’s fucking workshop" on his way out which leaves Nancy in hysterics.

Despite his clear grouchiness, Steve and Nancy can’t help but take a trip down to the apartment building’s garages to taunt him a little before Nancy heads off across the city.

"Why are you smoking?" he asks, immediately plucking the joint from between Eddie's lips and taking it for himself.

"Because I want to rip this stupid thing to pieces with my bare hands!" he says, voice deepening into his Dungeon Master voice as he shakes his fists.

Steve had bought the bare-bones dollhouse two months ago, deciding on a wooden one that they could customise to Joanie’s liking. Besides, they didn’t think whichever Dreamhouse Barbie had on offer this year would have unicorn-themed wallpaper in the bathroom or a bedroom for the plastic spiders Eddie had purchased as stand-ins for Joanie’s spider plushie collection. Steve still has no clue where Eddie and Robin had managed to find them. Like everything he did, Eddie went all out on decorating, subtly quizzing their daughter on interior design choices and then fashioning the house to her preferences.

Eddie turns around and grins.

"But I'm done now," he adds, turning back to the dollhouse with a miniature rocking chair and delicately placing it in the Christmas-themed living room.

"Eds," Steve chuckles. "How are we going to take this upstairs with the furniture already in it?"

Eddie's jaw drops and he hangs his head in his hands, groaning so loudly that Steve is happy their neighbours are just used to the Eddie-generated noise by now. Nancy bursts out laughing.

When she calms down enough to form words, she leans forward and gives Eddie a condescending pat on the shoulder.

"See you in the morning, Santa’s Little Helper."

She hops out of the garage, giggling and disappears into the night before Eddie can give an expletive-laden response.

He jumps up, boots stomping on the concrete floor.

"Shit," he says, rubbing his butt and grumbling. "Better help me, He-Man. This freaking dollhouse has stolen my youth! I need the help of your big, strong arms."

He makes grabby hands for Steve who quickly stubs out the joint in an overfilled ashtray. He kisses Eddie on the forehead.

"Operation Dollhouse enters its final stage."

"Praise Jesus!" Eddie mocks, adding a whining, "I wanna go to bed."

They make quick work of removing the furniture Eddie had already placed in the dollhouse, Eddie walking ahead as the chief door-opener and toddler scout, while Steve hoists the thing (surprisingly heavy) upstairs, hoping this was close to the last thing he would have to do this Christmas that will inevitably give him back problems in a week. He sets it down right in the middle of the living room and places a dining chair in the hallway so he can keep watch if Joanie walks out of her room. Meanwhile, Eddie fulfils his one last elvish task, perched on a cushion in the living room as he works on the furniture.

Steve's heart skips a beat as a shadow moves near Joanie's ajar bedroom door, but it's only his cat, Meatloaf. He watches as the little brown cat, with a slight wobble in his step, moves down the hallway and into their bedroom, a sign that Joanie is, in fact, asleep. Despite being a shy cat (and being the unfortunate target of some household cat bullying) Meatloaf was protective of Joanie, just quietly observing her and hurrying away to hide when he decided she was okay.

Eddie takes his time with the furniture, presumably relieved he’s on the home stretch. Once he’s done, they drape a crochet blanket over it for good measure, still uneasy at the possibility of Joanie snooping around if she awakens. They do a speed-run of their typical night routine, Eddie grumpily protesting Steve's last-minute lingering in the kitchen even though there really wasn't any more he could do in preparation for Christmas Day.

It feels like mere minutes have passed when Steve awakens to the feeling of someone slapping his shoulder. He blinks awake, realising it’s still dark out. All he can hear is a murmuring sound. He looks over to see the shape of Eddie, the likely source of muffled noise, turned away from him and waving his hand in the air. He reaches over to his nightstand for his hearing aid and jolts with a gasp at the sight of Joanie standing at his bedside, bright-eyed like it wasn’t the middle of the night. He can see her head moving about, likely talking. He fumbles for his hearing aid and places it in his left ear.

"You couldn’t hear me!" she complains with the innocent impatience of a toddler.

"M’sorry, Joanie, you have to wait for me to put my ears in," he says, sitting up and yawning. 

"Is Pa here yet?" she asks, clasping her hands together expectantly.

He can now hear Eddie groaning and grumbling, "Go to sleep, Joanie."

Steve looks at the clock radio on his nightstand. 2:17 am. He rolls his eyes, just knowing that bargaining isn’t going to work, especially considering Joanie's cat, Blondie, has just scuttled into the room and is circling her little legs.

"No, baby. He'll be here at breakfast," he says, relenting and leaning over to pick her up.

"Which is how long?" she beams, wide, curious eyes glinting with mischief.

"Many hours yet," he rationalises, knowing Wayne will arrive fairly early but not wanting to say so and adds "Plenty of time to get some sleep."

He settles her in between them and Blondie promptly follows, jumping on the foot of the bed and kneading at the covers right at Steve’s feet.

"Now the cats are here!" Eddie whines, rolling onto his back. He changes his tune when he spots Joanie staring at him adoringly, "Joanie Bologna!"

"Hi," she beams, all teeth.

Eddie quirks an eyebrow, "Are you going to go back to sleep?"

"Promise!"

She pulls the covers up to her neck and kicks around a ridiculous amount before squeezing her eyes shut.

"I’m sleeping!" she announces.

Steve settles back down, "Well I need to sleep, I have a lot of cooking to do."

"Yes, Martha Stewart needs his beauty sleep," Eddie agrees, a grin detectable in his voice.

Steve nods off, now feeling like hours have passed when he stirs at the feeling of Joanie kicking around and grumbling.

"Can I go back to bed?" she stage-whispers.

"Who’s taking you?" Eddie grumbles, turning on his back with a quick "ouch" as Joanie kicks him in the process of mobilising her legs like they are helicopter blades to get the covers off.

"Both," she orders sleepily, managing to boss them about with her eyes half-closed.

They look at each other and Eddie rolls his eyes.

"A miracle," he stage-whispers as he picks her up.

Steve slips out of bed as they both muster up a shred of energy with the silent promise that this is it. The movement startles Blondie, who promptly leaps off the bed, narrowly missing being tangled in Steve’s feet and runs into the hall.

"Night, Joanie bear," Steve coos, kissing her on the cheek when they get Joanie into her own bed.

"Mhmm," she hums with a disgruntled frown like they have the gall to be disturbing her sleep.

She turns over and hugs her favourite spider plushie (named Gregory, lord knows how she comes up with names). Blondie jumps up at the foot of her bed and settles in too.

As they move into the hall, Steve catches a glimpse of the Christmas tree, twinkling just enough from the streetlights outside that he can see it in the fuzzy darkness. And there it is. That inevitable thump Steve has gotten in his chest every Christmas since 1986, the last he had spent with his parents. Actually, it was the last time he had spent any significant time with them, even if it was just a miserable Christmas dinner in silence. For all Joanie knew, Claudia Henderson was Steve's mother. And he liked it that way.

He sniffles as his mind drifts to the last phone call he'd had with his father, eight years ago when he and Eddie first moved to Chicago.

Something drops to the floor and they both jump. 

"Shit!" Steve curses, covering a blubbering gasp as he reflexively shields Eddie with his arm and backs him up against the wall. They immediately look towards Joanie's room but she doesn't seem to stir. He squints in the darkness, unable to make out the moving thing on the hall stand.

"Oh it's just Gandalf," Eddie laughs, picking up the greyish form that must be his cat, aka, the most menacing terror of the bunch. "Go find Ozzy to fight with, you little hell demon."

He sets him down in the direction of the living room and promptly snakes his arms around Steve's middle to lead him.

"Okay, back to bed, mister. Don't want you stumbling around in the dark by yourself without your glasses," he adds, kissing the nape of his neck.

"Where’s Peanut?" is all Steve can think to say, tears prickling up.

Eddie kisses into his hair as he whispers, "Probably asleep in the bath."

Steve grips his arms tight and Eddie hugs him back, probably sensing how tense he is as they awkwardly waddle as one back to bed. He even throws back the covers, helping him in before climbing over to his own side.

"What's wrong?" Eddie asks when he settles back under the covers, eyebrows furrowing as his eyes glisten with worry.

Steve settles in, curling an arm around him and nuzzling into his neck, shielding himself as tears fall as he tries desperately to blink them away. Eddie's hand finds its way to his hair as he begins the soothing motion of combing his fingers through it.

"Just thinking about my folks," he mumbles, not moving from the safety of the crevice between their pillows and Eddie's neck. They hug each other tighter as Eddie gives the faintest, "oh" like he always did when Steve got like this.

"Steve," Eddie says, voice shaky. "You've got Joanie and me… And the silly cats."

"Where's Meatloaf?" he asks, voice cracking from the lump in his throat. He sniffles and shakes his head at the sheer silliness of prioritising locating the damn cats.

Eddie lolls his head to the side, speaking directly into Steve's ear, "If I can detach myself for a moment, I'll look under the bed."

He reluctantly nods and Eddie swiftly moves away to hang over the bed edge.

"Loafy," he coos and makes kissing noises.

"Here he is," Eddie smiles weakly, presenting the little furball. Meatloaf meows excitedly at the sight of Steve and quickly curls up, tucked in right under the arm he slings back over Eddie.

"Listen to me, sweetie," Eddie whispers, his hand combing through his hair with more purpose now. "Joanie is asleep and we'll wake up fresh as daisies in the morning. Wayne will get here for breakfast. Joanie will absolutely adore her dollhouse and then they'll go out in the snow while you get started on the food. Nance and Rob will be here and soon after so will Max, Lucas and Henderson. It will be a great day like it always is with our family. All of us together... Plus, I’ve got an extra-special present for you this year."

Sensing a teasing smile in his voice, Steve can’t help but laugh, "You say that every year."

"Well, yes. Of course, there’s your super-naughty present but I have something else too," Eddie says, not relenting on the teasing.

"Love you Eds," he says, shifting ever-so-slightly to wipe at his nose with his sweater sleeve.

"I love you, Steve," he replies, kissing his cheek as he begins to pry the hearing aid out of his ear. "Get some sleep, muffin."

[strwbrryblues]

Only for you

Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Genre: Fluff, Established Relationship

Warnings: None

Requested | Author' Choice

12 Gifts of Chrismas Masterlist

© December 2021, strwbrryblues. All rights reserved.

Hyunjin sat alone in his studio, paint brush in hand as he stared out the window to see snow had started to fall once more for the day. You were out of the house, on a grocery run with Felix—because Hyunjin insisted it. He needed it so you don’t get spoiled on what he was working on.

The tall man had been working on this painting for a week now. He’d have done it in a few days, if not for the constant art block he’s been getting. Right now, with limited and unknown time, he had to finish it. He didn’t care anymore if the paint would take weeks to dry, but he needed to finish.

You had planned to celebrate Christmas two days earlier as you two had to go back home for the celebration. Both your families were going to have dinner, in celebration of the season, as well as with you expecting. The guys were supposed to come over for the night, helping out with a bit of cooking, ordering food, and as well as the tradition of giving gifts to each other.

Hyunjin thought back to the news of you expecting a child. He was nervous when the news came out, as it was something he was not familiar with. The man was not very good with handling kids, so it was natural he’d be nervous.

The whole month he was shaken. He didn’t want to keep secrets to you, so he opened up his feelings to you. Telling you how he was scared of not being able to raise the child well; but you encouraged him. You shared the same feelings of nervousness, as well as insecurity, but you tried your best to tell him that you were going to get through it together.

And you were successful. It’s the eight month of your pregnancy, and Hyunjin had done a great job in tending to your needs. He did his best in making you comfortable.

Reminiscing to it now, a small and gentle smile graced his lips. Suddenly, his hands moved on his own.

As if the emotional ride just months ago, controlled his hands to paint the perfect scenario that was playing on his head.

❅✰❅✰❅

Three hours have passed. Hyunjin was done with his painting.

He stood up and admired his work. From his spot near the door, the painting looked a bit messy, but there was something that he loved about it.

Maybe it was the mess that portrayed his emotion from back then. Maybe it was the calm of the background that drew his attention—a hidden promise of all the good things to come in the future. Or maybe it was the bundle of joy that was the very center of attention. Your future child.

Whatever element of the painting, it made him smile in satisfaction.

Just as he was about to walk back to his seat, he suddenly heard to front door open.

You’re home.

With that, he hurried to turn the canvas away from the door. As the painting was wet still, he really didn’t have to think about covering it with a cloth.

After cleaning up the clutters in his little art studio, he rushed out front, but not before locking the door.

“Honey!” You greeted in shock to see him a mess from all the painting. “You forgot to wear your jumpsuit again.” You placed your hands on your hips. Felix snickered at Hyunjin, seeing him be scolded by his wife.

Hyunjin looked down at his attire. True to your words, he really was wearing the clothes from when he woke up. In a fit of haste to finish the painting without you in the vicinity, he painted with his sleep clothes, instead of the clothes he usually used for painting.

The man chuckled nervously under your loving, yet scolding stare. “Oh, I’m sorry about that.” He rubbed at his nape, then jokingly stated, “I guess I don’t need a new jumpsuit.” He wiggled his eyebrow.

You sighed, not really minding it anymore—admittedly, you were like that as well, so you really had no right to scold him.

“You two are wasteful of your clothes,” Felix was now the one to scold you two. Shaking his head, as he made his way to the kitchen to place down your groceries.

“It’s not wasteful if it’s put to good use.” Hyunjin proudly stated. He assisted you with taking off your shoes. He then wrapped behind you, his hands resting gently on your baby bump. He placed a playful kiss on your temple to which you giggled at. Soon, you were both waddling to the kitchen where Felix was preparing ingredients, Hyunjin not letting go of his arms around you.

“True. I actually use my old clothes as rags.” Felix thought, his hand settling on his chin as if trying to come up with an intelligent hypothesis.

“My mom used to do that a lot.” You said, also getting to work. Hyunjin only then let go of you, to help with food preparation.

Soon, you three had gone to work along with the continuous conversations. It’s around two hours into cooking when Minho turned up at your front step, bringing in his specially marinated meat that was ready to be cooked.

Hyunjin, of course persuaded you to rest from time to time, as he handled the cooking himself. You didn’t mind it. You loved seeing your husband get busy willingly, and he did it with a smile on his face. As long as he was happy, you were fine with it.

Once you were all done, the guys came one by one. Minho and Felix, conveniently had prepared a set of change of clothes. You’d let them use the guest bathroom, where the both freshened up, individually. You and Hyunjin both freshened up as well.

❅✰❅✰❅

Dinner was…chaotic.

You expected that. You didn’t oppose to it, though. You liked that it’s lively with everyone around. It was just you and Hyunjin around most of the times, so you were really happy to have lots of company, especially with the season. It’s not that you don’t like Hyunjin’s company, nor you hate the silence—you actually loved both—but what is life without a bunch of chaotic idiots around?

“Okay! Gather up children, Santa’s got you your presents.” Chan teasingly called, as everyone slowly gathered in your living area.

“We’re not kids anymore,” Jeongin groaned.

Seungmin, who sat beside Jeongin, nudged the younger with his elbow. “No, let him. It fits him, because he’s as old as Santa.” Seungmin didn’t even whisper to the younger.

Chan gasped dramatically. He turned to Minho who had his eyes on them the whole time. “Babe, aren’t you going to do scold them?” He approached the younger, whining.

Minho just shrugged his shoulders. His reaction made the older whine more. Minho liked the attention.

Hyunjin laughed, but he took control of the situation. He announced the order in which everyone would be giving their gifts. He proposed to go last, as he wanted to gather his self before giving out his gifts for everyone.

The air in the room was lively during the whole gift giving session. As lively as it was, though, Hyunjin was nervous. His hands had gone cold, but suddenly he felt like it was too hot in the room, despite the weather.

You just handed the last gift over, which was for Hyunjin.

“You can open it later if you want,” you whispered to him, holding squeezing on his hands comfortingly as you’ve noticed he seemed to be nervous about something. After handing it him, you gave him a kiss on his forehead, “Merry Christmas.” You whispered to him.

Hyunjin stood up, going to where the tree was to pick up the first gift. He gave the gift from the eldest of the group, to the youngest.

Once he’d finished handing over the gifts, and watching them gush or laugh over each other’s gift, he then took your hand.

“Yours is um…well, I’ll have to show it to you.” He nervously let out, helping you to stand up from the couch.

The boys, unknowing of the innocent intention, made very suggestive noises.

“No! It’s not like that!” Hyunjin grew flustered.

You laughed at their antics. “If you’re so curious, why don’t you guys come with us then?” You asked them, but not before looking at Hyunjin in silent query of him minding it or not.

Hyunjin shook his head gently. He didn’t mind at all.

At the signal, everyone cheered.

And like ducklings, they followed the two of you to the door of Hyunjin’s studio.

He paused, turning to everyone. “I might have to warn everyone, though. When you enter the studio, please. Do not touch anything.” He begged, emphasizing his last sentence.

Everyone nodded in understanding. Though, Minho couldn’t really help but tease the younger one.

You kind of know it might be one of his paintings. Still, you were curious. Every piece that Hyunjin paints, was honestly magical. Every piece igniting something within you—be it in awe, love-struck, or any kind of emotion at all.

So, when he opened the door, you were faced with an easel and a canvas that was faced away.

The canvas looked to be around 48 by 36 in inches. One of Hyunjin’s biggest masterpieces, yet. And just by the size itself, you knew that this one seems to be more important than anything he’d ever work with. You’d know, as Hyunjin would only work on medium or smaller canvas, as he deemed that he was still not ready to take on big works.

So, when he turned the canvas around to face all of you, you thought that he was a big liar.

Because right now, in front of you, was probably the most wonderful art work that you’ve ever looked at. It’s such a moving sight that it rendered you speechless.

The boys seemed to be in awe as well, but they all gushed around it. Making a fuss here in there, but you were to dazed to even notice. You didn’t even hear Hyunjin scolding everyone not to touch the painting, as oil painting takes very long to dry completely.

While everyone gushed around it, Hyunjin looked to see that you were suddenly in tears.

He approached you, suddenly panicked that you might feel revolted to even look at his work, that it made you cry. “Hey, please don’t cry. I’m sorry if you don’t like it. I promise I’ll do better on the ne—”

Before he even finished his sentence, you grabbed on to his face. You probably kissed the life out him because when you pulled away, his face was in shock.

“Stop bringing yourself down,” you scolded. “I cried because I’m absolutely in love with it, that I just found it hard to look for the right words.”

“I…I was nervous whether you’d like it or not.” He looked away sadly.

“Please don’t think that way.” You told him, caressing his face with the pads of your thumbs. “It’s just, I felt our story in your paint. It’s like a retelling. It’s so beautiful.” You pressed your forehead with his.

Hyunjin sighed in relief. He pressed a long kiss on your forehead, and just took in your little time together, despite the noise of the boys in the background.

You wouldn’t tell him, but it’s also because you know that no one else other than he, can put his love for you in something as beautiful as this, only for you. You thanked that it was he, who you’d fallen in love with.

[bakulova]

Catradora X Reader

S4/5 Catra and Adora is so cute. I just wanted to comfort them so much. 

Hope you enjoy!

Adora and Catra had gotten into an argument last night. You didn’t know why all you knew was Catra ran out of the house slamming the door behind her while Adora stormed into the room not even acknowledging you. All you wanted to do was read in peace but nOooOoo. They always had to poke at each other and then the other gets mad and runs off. You thought about comforting her but decided against it taking into consideration that her emotions are still all over the place and you really didn’t want to be yelled at for trying to help. You and secretly Adora started to worry about Catra since she wasn’t home yet. You quietly tell Adora to rest while saying that Catra will be back soon. 

She sighs and gets comfortable on the bed but kept twisting and turning. After a while you sigh and get off the little rocking chair in the bedroom and slide into bed next to Adora. You caress her face and give her little kisses all over before saying “Adora please rest. I will come get you if she comes back alright...” she gives you an uneazy look then admits defeat and snuggles into you, putting her head on your chest and swinging and arm and leg over your body. After a couple of hours Adora is now move little ways away from you after almost hitting you in the face with her sleep fighting. You hear the front door open and close quietly, then gentle pitter patter of of 2 people. You immediately know it’s Catra and Melog. She must have taken them with her.

 You sigh in relief and quietly get out of bed. You walk out and look around for her and see her with a small blanket laying on the couch looking depressed and cute. You walk over and sit in front of her while petting melog. “Hey...” she doesn’t look at you and instead looks everywhere but you. “What...We were scared you weren’t coming back.” You stopped yourself from asking what happened worried that asking will bring up memories of something that clearly hurt her. She just ignores you and looks around. You can tell she’s about to cry so you leave it at that and go to the kitchen to grab something warm for her to drink. Coming back with tea, you sit beside her “You can drink this to keep you warm. I know it was snowing when you left so you must have been freezing.” She looks at the cup and takes a sip. 

“Adora is sleeping right now and I won’t wake her since she really needed sleep but you need to sleep too.” You look towards the room then back at her “If you want to sleep out her for now I... I can get you a better blanket and comfy pillows.” She finally looks at you “I’ll sleep out here” You nod getting up to go get what you promised. When bringing them she just laid there, you automatically knew she wanted you to do it. You gently smile and start tucking her in and asking if she comfortable. She nods, ears are flattened while Melog climbs on top of her and gets comfy also. When leaving Catra grabs your hand “Please stay...I don’t want to be alone...” You nod and sit back down seeing as there was no more space for you on the couch. “Did you want to watch a movie or something?” “No... c-can we just hold hands? Can you stay till I fall asleep?” You gently smile “yeah yeah we can” You excuse yourself and quickly grab a book, blanket and pillow. You sit down while moving closer, turning your back with her arm resting over your shoulder.

 You kiss her forearm and wait till she sleeps. After a couple of hours, you still don’t feel like sleeping and the sun is now rising. You sigh knowing your sleep pattern is fucked. You turn to see that Catra snoring cutely. You giggle and kiss her nose while noticing how calm she looks considering the fight. You remember that you have some shopping to do today. You gently let go of Catra’s hand and she moves turning away from you. You smirk staring a moment longer then moving towards melog and giving it a little kiss in the head. You quickly and quietly for the day. You make a list of things you need and get ready to go out. Before leaving yoy give both Adora and Catra a kiss. When leaving you feel a little tug on your jacket, you turn back and see Melog trying to get you to stay. You laugh bending down “Melog I gotta get us food!” It mewls while dipping it’s head under your hand. “Do you wanna come with me?” It mewls again “I take it as a yes” finally getting out the door, the sun is now up and the frost is starting to melt.

 You go down to the local market looking around and buying things along the way you meet up with Glimmer and Bow. They were taking trips to villages to see how everyone was doing. You tag along, eating lunch and having a great time. By the time you got back home Adora and Catra were for sure up. Walking inside and putting the things down with the help of Melog. You started putting things down and hear a two pairs of footsteps coming towards you fast. You turn around only to be jumped on. “Y/N where were you!” Adora yells. You wince at her voice “I went shopping and then hung out with Glimmer and Bow” Catra grumbles “We have been worried about you all day stupid” She pushes you face away from hers “Hey! I had to do some shopping. Why? Did something happen while I was gone?” “No but you could’ve woken us up to go with you!” Catra hisses while Adora nods nuzzlng into the curve of your neck. You laugh “Oh sorry guys but you both really need to the sleep...” they gasp seemingly offended “what you guys were coming for each others neck last night I think my choice was very valid” Catra grunts “whatever”

She throws herself back on you. You notice that Adora hasn’t said anything or moved much. You look down and see that she’s just staring at you two lovingly. You clear your throat “Did you guys talk about what happened last night?” They stop what they’re doing and pull away sitting on either side of you. “yes... yes we did” Adora says awkwardly. You look at her suspiciously then at Catra “If talk why awkward?” you joke. They relax a little “We wanted you to be there but you weren’t anywhere to be found so we just forced the conversation.” Adora said. “aw but you guys don’t need to be there for YOUR argument.” “BUT we do.” Catra says getting annoyed. You laugh getting up “You guys are cute but if you guys talked it out like you say you did then please help me put away the groceries!” They quickly get up and start putting things away. When dinner came around they wouldn’t stop bothering you about help so you allowed them and when they were busy you gave a quick and loving kiss to their cheeks leaving them wanting more. 

[morganbritton132]

I had this idea for a Batman/Umbrella Academy fic that I thought I was going to write but have now accepted that I am never going to do that.

In it, Five’s powers manifest young, and he obviously doesn’t have a good grasp on controlling them because he’s like, four. They’re very instinctive, tied to his wants and his needs. If he’s hungry, he pops up in a kitchen. If he’s tired, he blinks away to a bed. Not necessarily his kitchen or his bed, but a place where his needs will be met. He’s popped up in a grocery store more than a once.

So, when a little boy with immense powers goes to sleep after a long day of training longing for the comfort of a parent, his powers reach out across universes for a parent longing just as hard for a child to hold. And they take him there.

After Jason’s death, there was never enough to do. Bruce could work himself into the ground, but he could not distract himself from the looming absence that followed beside him. He was standing on a rooftop watching snow fall over Gotham and trying to not to think about how Jason would be complaining about Dick’s costume choices when he sees a flash of blue behind him in a reflection.

He turned around looking – wanting – expecting a fight but he finds a small boy in blue pajamas curled up asleep on the ground at his feet. There were no footsteps in the snow leading up to either of them except his own and they were already covered with fresh snow. There was no disturbance on the roof at all, and surely, he didn’t miss a kid when he swung onto this rooftop.

Bruce was half convinced he was imagining things, but the kid was solid and warm when he picked him up. He couldn’t have been homeless. He looked like a well-fed, clean, heavily asleep child. He didn’t stir at all despite Bruce’s poking and prodding. Bruce carried him down to the Batmobile before Five disappeared out of his arms.

Bruce was half-convinced that he’d been drugged despite what all the test has said, but then the boy showed up again. Months later on the rooftop of the GCPD, still asleep and still in blue pajamas.

Bruce held him for an hour before he disappeared again.

It kept happening even after Tim became Robin, always when Bruce was alone and always when he was struggling with his grief. The boy would appear out of nowhere, sometimes appearing a little older, sometimes younger, and Bruce would hold him until he inevitably slipped away.

He’s made attempts to wake Five up, but Five’s powers only ever reach out when Five is so exhausted from training that his mind just goes blank and shuts down to recuperate. He physically cannot wake up so nothing Bruce does is going to make him.

Bruce has tried everything he can to keep him there. He’s put handcuffs that dampen metahuman powers on him but he still disappeared. He put him under a red sunlamp, surrounded him with yellow. Hell, he’s used rope and the boy still disappears in a blink of an eye.

One time there was a note written on the boy’s hand, equations of some kind scribbled out with a felt-tip marker. Impressively complex in a way that Bruce knows is beyond him. He photographs the equations before washing them away. He replaces it with a little joke, smiling as he writes, ‘no cheating.’

The older the boy looks, the more bruises and signs of exhaustion there are. The first time he sees the Umbrella tattoo, he sees red and he tracks down The Penguin.

One time, Bruce puts a note in Five’s pocket that says ‘Does he go home?’ The next time Five appears, two months later, there’s a note written on expensive paper in very precise, almost robotic handwriting that says ‘He is home.’ He sends another asking Five’s name and where exactly home is, and gets no response (Or he does, and he become cross-dimensional penpals with Grace, I never decided what I liked best).

After Five jumps to the future, he stops appearing in Gotham. When he comes back to prevent the apocalypse, he never has a moment where his mind can just shut down enough for his powers to reach out.

Bruce spent years waiting for the boy to make another appearance and just when he gave up hope, the Hargreeves fucked up the timeline so bad that they ended up in Gotham. In the batcave, in particular.

Bruce looks at Five like ‘it’s you’ and Five, who had no idea that he used to pop up in Gotham like the world’s cutest cryptid, immediately is ready to throw down with this weirdo. The Batkids resign themselves to the fact that they’re going to get a new sibling because Five is perfect for their family. The Hargreeves meanwhile are like, life is already so goddamn weird, this might as well happen.

[sylvie-writes]

So Confused

word count: 1433

pairing: dad!steve rogers x wife!reader x sarah rogers

summary: steve and sarah get you a gift yet your husband is a bit confused as to what it is.

a/n: this is a birthday gift to myself hehe. i meant to get this out earlier but life happened lol.

please excuse mistakes this was written on mobile. the writing is very straight forward because i am tireddd.

For days on end Steve had been on mission. Not one for the Avengers, but rather for personal reasons per se. He was on the hunt for the perfect birthday gift for you. In the past he had always had no trouble but that was during the honeymoon phase and felt it was about time to step up his game, ever since your daughter had been born, that is. This year he has absolutely no clue what to get, but luckily he could enlist the help of his mini me who had the perfect gift in mind.

The two of them had snuck out this morning while you were still sleeping. Unfortunately they had to wait until the day of your birthday to get your gift because in the past you’ve had a knack for unintentionally finding the hidden presents.

-

“Are you sure this is it, little doll?” Steve and Sarah were standing in the middle of the home appliance store looking thoroughly confused by a cardboard box. The man’s hands were on his hips while his daughter mimicked the action.

“I’m sure, Daddy!” Sarah went to go wrap her arms around the large box since it was at her level, but it was heavier than she had intended it to be and instead looked up to her dad for help. He easily scooped it up as if it were a piece of paper.

“Well, if you are sure this is it, what is it for?” In one hand Steve held the white and green cardboard box and rested it against his waist while the other hand held Sarah’s hand to keep her close. As they walked to the checkout line, Steve’s eyes scanned over the big bold letters on the box that read “Roomba.”

“Silly Daddy! It’s a rowbot vacooooom.” The smaller blonde giggled at her dad’s confused face and he moved his gaze to look down at her with a goofy smile.

“Next!” The cashier called them next in line and Sarah broke away from her dad to run up to the lady and greeted her while Steve followed suit.

Mumbling under his breath he picked up his pace, “Wow, times really are changing.”

-

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOMMY!” Two lovely voices awoke you and a little girl jumped on the bed to snuggle up as a larger man sat beside you on the edge.

You greeted them both in return with a kiss to their cheeks before Sarah was readily sitting criss cross in your lap. Her tiny hand gave you a white envelope that had been colored in almost every color crayon you can imagine. In the child’s best handwriting, written in squiggly letters was your name along with a disproportionate heart that made you giggle. It was the kind of artwork that a parent valued because it was their child’s and not since it looked like Davinci’s art, heavens knew it was anything but that.

Opening the card made your heart melt as you read the wording in the card, ones in Steve’s expert cursive but Sarah’s own words. Steve’s handwriting was so elegant and old fashioned. You loved when he wrote anything for you, whether that be a note telling the dishes were clean or a letter he sent when off for work.

A tiny tear pricked at the corner of your eye for Sarah’s letter was so sweet and endearing, especially for such a young girl. You couldn’t have gotten a better kid. With much love, you pulled her into your arms and pressed messy kisses that tossed up her hair and made her laugh.

Next, Steve crawled into the bed a bit more when you scooted over for him. He handed you his own card that was, in fact, a letter written on fancy cream stationery with gold foil. It accented the jet black ink of the pen and the smooth strokes that came from Steve’s penmanship.

In his letter were words of appreciation to you for being the loving woman, wife and mother you were. You could tell it was straight from his heart. Steve was always so genuine and you loved him ever so for that.

Not even a second after you put the letter down and pecked Steve’s lips was Sarah excitedly clapping her hands.

“Momma! We got you a present!”

You cocked your head like an intrigued puppy.

“Oh really? What did you get, baby?”

She shook her head, “That’s not how it works, silly goose! Daddy has to get the gift and then you can open it!” Her words didn’t hold any malice or demand, just lots of excitement for giving a gift, that she knew was perfect, to her mom.

Steve quickly got up and returned in no time to your bedroom and placed a huge box wrapped in unicorn paper (Sarah’s doing) in your lap as your daughter had moved to the side.

She watched with much interest as you opened the paper slowly and your jaw dropped when you saw the box. Sarah was relieved to see your reaction.

Inside your box, it was a robot vacuum, something you had been dying to get as there was just not enough time to clean the house by yourself. Even with Steve and Sarah’s help, it was a constant struggle and this little device would help quite a bit.

You let out an excited squeal yourself, something that Sarah often did, and you launched yourself at Steve who was now standing at the bedside.

“Oh Steve! Thank you! I love you so much, I will literally have your babies. You surely know a way into my heart.” A million kisses were placed on his lips and he shook his head before you continued to shower him in affection. Actually, Steve was struggling really hard to not laugh and get the words of truth out.

“It wasn’t all me, sweetheart. It was really your daughter!”

You turned to your daughter and goofily ran over to her with open arms. Scooping her up off the bed you sound around with her in your arms.

Setting down Sarah, you returned back to Steve.

“You must think I’m so crazy, getting excited over a vacuum. God, I’m getting so old.” You made a sound of disgust towards the end and Steve laughed.

“If anyone in this house is old, it’s me. (Y/n) I don’t even know what this thing really does.” Steve widened his eyes for extra effect and you were shocked that he didn’t know. After all, he worked with technology far more advanced than this yet a cell phone could stomp him. He was such an old man and you never stopped teasing him about it. You were relentless with your jokes but Steve enjoyed them nonetheless.

“Oh, well, it’s a vacuum that goes around the house on its own. Y’a know so we don’t have to spend an hour every day doing it ourselves.”

He opened his mouth in awe while you both watched Sarah unpack the box.

“Ma would love this. I remember how bad she wanted a vacuum, just a simple one cost more than our grocery spendings.”

You intently listened to Steve’s short story of how his father had saved up to get his mom a vacuum for her birthday and you smiled at the irony of the recollection. Here their son was, doing almost the same thing for his own wife.

“Times have changed so much, darling, and I’m so glad I have you here to help,” Steve unwrapped his arm from your waist and instead turned to place his hands on your face.

“You are always so patient with me, I just love you so much.” With that, your husband kissed you slowly and for what seemed like minutes. That was until Sarah started to noisily take the styrofoam from that box that you both pulled away and turned to her.

She was awfully excited over the vacuum herself and you found it hilarious. Sarah caught you both glancing at her and waved you over to help with the styrofoam that was crumbling and looking like snow on the bedspread. No one wants to do laundry, let alone on their birthday so you both rushed over to prevent the mess from growing.

After setting up the device, you taught Steve how to work the vacuum from his cell phone, Sarah scrambled through a list of names and you found loads of entertainment in both of them. They were quite the pair and you were so glad to have them in your life, especially on your birthday

[kenmei]

-ˏˋ FOREVER N THEN SOME! ˊˎ-

♡ gn!reader x kozume kenma

cw: pinch of angst (to fluff !!!), romance, slice of life, crying, established relationship!au, timeskip!au

synopsis: in which he’s actually more traditional than he leads on

wc: 2000+

notes from mei!

ive had this idea rattling around my skull for the longest time

sixteen and a handshake. a standard, normal handshake, but still awkward.

you remember how his hand perfectly fit with yours—how his palms were searing hot as they met with your much colder ones.

you remember him, as a second-year, as the setter for the team you cheered for from the stands. you remember his flushed cheeks when you kissed him on the cheek for a first time, watching as his brain malfunctioned as the rosy hues on his face spread to his neck and the tips of his ears.

you remember him, as the captain, worn out and exhausted at your doorstep.

you recall how he slumped onto you, making you somewhat drag him to your room. half because he really was that tired, and half for his own amusement.

you know him. you know him a bit too well and it’s both a blessing and curse.

because you wonder if he’s finally grown out of it—of this.

looking at the empty spot beside you, you think that, perhaps, he really has—the signs are staring right at you. lately, you’ve been sleeping in a cold bed, waking up to yet again another empty penthouse as you figure he’s at the office again.

(you hope he’s at the office, at least).

texts replies are always hours apart. it seems like he’s been doubling up on streams. friday’s that have always been reserved for two since forever, have only had one person attending these past few weeks.

this is sad, your chest clenches dejectedly at yet another morning where it’s only you. looking around, a part of you wishes that kenma’s actually here, that any second now, he’s going to emerge from his game room, rubbing his eyes tiredly as he scratches his tummy.

because even if you both don’t talk as much as you used to, it’s enough for you simply when he’s present. it’s enough for you when he mutters a good morning, waddling past you to go make his coffee before sitting on the couch.

it’s enough for you when he’s here.

the absolute bare minimum can make you the happiest, but you wonder if even that is too much.

twenty-four and you’re still overthinking.

“just talk to him!” your friends say, but truly it isn’t that easy. even if you’ve both promised to be better at communicating, something about this whole situation makes communication feel so much more difficult.

“you’ve been together for so long, you both still aren’t married?” if you’re being honest, it does bother you sometimes and you wonder if maybe, you should just get on one knee instead.

but you don’t. you don’t because you and kenma already both live(d) like you’re married. you both still share(d) that dynamic of being a laid-back couple who deals with problems as they come.

you don’t think about marriage with him because it already feels right. you don’t mind not getting married and honestly, you’re pretty sure kenma isn’t that kind of guy.

you’re startled by someone poking the side of your head.

your head turns to see kenma, brows slightly furrowed as he analyzes you.

you shake your head, sitting up straight on the couch. “’what’s u—wait, aren’t you supposed to be streaming right now?”

kenma nods his head, plopping into the spot next to you. “ended early. chat was being rude today.”

your head bobs in understanding as you try to find words to piece together. he must be frustrated, you know a little bit about how difficult it can get as a streamer and you also know him, that if he doesn’t want to be near you or hear you, he simply wouldn’t be.

you smile slightly, “t—”

“why are you so tense?” he questions, leaning back. his eyes study you and you feel like hiding.

“’m not.” you defend, shrinking.

“you are.” he replies, “what’s wrong?”

you hum, grabbing a throw pillow and falling onto your side, opposite from him. “class was hard today. your paparazzi found me at the grocery store—”

“that happened last week.”

you groan, because fuck, you really can’t lie to him. he’s too good at getting you to open up, no matter how hard you resist it.

“it’s stupid.” you pout, covering your face with the pillow, already feeling your wound up emotions spiraling back up to the surface.

kenma’s hand lands on your legs, situating them over his lap. he pats the side your calves, humming. “talk to me.”

“what about you?” genuinely, you feel like right now isn’t the best time to talk about this. “you were just telling me about how your chat was being rude!”

“that can wait.” he replies, patient, like he’s always been. “something’s been bothering you, no?”

yes. you think. but i don’t wanna talk to you about it ‘cuz i’m scared.

“are you tired...” fuck, you think, because once again, he’s getting you to talk. “of—of me?”

he’s always been good at this. somehow always getting you to say whatever’s clogging up your mind. he reads you like an open book and you hate it, because even after all these years, it’s still scary.

it’s daunting, because he knows so much about you. if he wanted to, he could pick you apart all too easily, knowing exactly what buttons to push to make you break and that’s scary. it’s terrifying, even.

you feel his hand, as warm as they’ve always been, slide under the bottom of your loose pajama pants, warming up your ice cold skin.

and the feeling is weird, because you feel like you’re on fire, yet his hand is still so much warmer than you.

it’s comforting. you’ve both always been touch-starved and kenma knows this, he knows this as he traces small shapes on your calves, the hem of your pants riding up a bit.

“why would i be tired of you?” he mumbles, eyes moving to see your face is still very much covered with the pillow.

you shrug, leg twitching under his feathery touch. “you’ve been distant and stuff... i dunno.”

and it feels like he’s back at square one with you. kenma feels like an idiot for not realizing sooner, cursing himself for being so caught up with work (and something else) that he’s been neglecting you.

you’ve always been a bit of a crybaby, only him and your close friends know this.

he notes that you tend to cry even when you both have the smallest fights, and it’s something he’s used to.

so to know that you’re holding everything in, it makes his chest tighten.

“i’m sorry, angel.” he says, quiet. “work’s been busy.”

yes, work is busy. even if he finds it enjoyable, it can get taxing sometimes. but he’s also been looking around for something, something that he needs perfect.

“‘s okay.” you mumble and he knows he’s fucking up even more. “i just miss you.”

he tugs on the bottom of your shirt, “c’mere.”

you shake your head and he ponders on what to do.

because even now, even though you’ve both been together for so long that existing with the other is literally needed, there are times when you both get stuck—where existing together feels more complex than it should ever be.

“please,” he pleads softly, “i miss you.”

and if you’re not gonna come to him, he’ll come to you.

so he leans down, forcing you to hold a bit of his weight as he lays atop you. he pulls the pillow away, wiping the few tears away with his thumb.

he kisses your cheek.

twenty-four, you let yourself cry because you’ve missed him so much. seeing other in the evenings or exchanging a few short words doesn’t do it for you anymore, it never will.

another kiss, but on the other cheek. i’m sorry.

another for your forehead, then one more on your nose. i love you.

your hands cling to him and he smiles, caressing your hair. his head lays in the juncture of your neck, frequently wiping your tears with his thumb.

he makes you sit up, only because he wants to hold you.

with your back to his chest, his warm hand envelopes yours. he doesn’t make you face him, because he knows that wouldn’t make you feel comfortable. 

it’s only when he hears your crying subside, that he holds your chin, making you look him in the eyes.

“are we okay?” he mumbles, his lips so close to yours you can feel his breath.

it still gets to you. he still gets to you like you’re both still teenagers; your heart thumps in your ears, body burning because fuck, he’s really close to kissing your lips.

you nod, “’m sorry. didn’t wanna talk to you ‘cuz i was scared.”

his lips slot against yours and it’s gentle, your mind becomes fuzzy with a warmth only kenma can provide you. he chuckles when he pulls away, your lips chasing his.

“don’t worry about that,” he says softly, “i might’ve accidentally made it harder to approach me.”

you shake your head. “thought it was just my overthinking.” you fiddle with your fingers, “i didn’t wanna make a big deal out of it.”

“next time,” he says, “make a big deal out of it. you gotta talk to me, angel.”

you whine, feeling embarrassed because you’ve gotten this lecture from him so many times.

kenma sighs against your skin, wondering if now is the right time. it feels like a good time, but he doesn’t want to waste a special moment because of a good feeling.

“what’s wrong, ken?” you ask, tilting your head back onto his shoulder.

your eyes are red, you’re still sniffling every now and then.

he smiles, hand travelling to his pocket as he pulls out the ring, holding it in front of you. “this is why i was so busy. t—the box is in my gaming room, though, fuck—”

“is that—”

“w—wanna get married, y/n?” his whole face is red. you giggle at his shaking hand as you hold out your own (shaking) hand.

“yeah. i really wanna.”

and you’re crying again as he slips the ring on your finger. the diamonds sparkles at you and you can’t help but fawn over the ring as you sob.

“crybaby.” he mumbles, kissing your cheek. he nuzzles into your neck, arms wrapped tightly around your midsection. “i love you.”

and it’s here you realize that kenma is a lot more traditional than you thought. memories flood in of him always getting you to watch the first snow with him through his window, forcing you under the kotatsu with him as he shows you a new game he started playing.

eighteen. for your two year anniversary, he took you to a place with love locks. signing one off with you before throwing the key god knows where. and you remember thinking it’s weird, because the month before that, he was telling you stuff like that is kinda phony. 

nineteen. you recall him grumbling about getting into a yukata for the festival, but grumbling even more when you gave in and said you’d both attend in normal clothing, because he’s already halfway in the yukata, why would he change? (he just wanted to wear one with you).

twenty-two. his persistence to keep you awake to watch the sun rise on new years.

you realize kenma follows traditions more than you do and you chuckle.

giggling, you hold your hand out where the diamonds on your left ring finger shine happily, tilting your head to kiss him yet another time.

“i love you.”

change. you know your daily lives aren’t going to be much different, but you both like how your last name will be the same as his.

twenty-four. he proposes to you so casually that some might find it weird. but you both aren’t ones for big gestures. you know kenma loves you, it’s in the way he moves your hair out of your face as he asks you if he can still make it up to you.

and he knows you love him, when you laugh and tell him he already has—when you intertwine your fingers with his and kiss the top of his hand, kenma knows and you know, too.

forever it is.

[let-me-luve-you]

Winter Storm

Jared Padalecki x Reader

Summary: You play Cordell Walker’s daughter on the new show Walker. Jared takes you under his wing. What happens when a winter storm hits all of Texas.

Warnings: Mentions of a rough upbringing, Texas winter storm, power outage, water problems, some angst, scary weather, fluff, protective Jared, maybe a cuss word somewhere

A/N: As a Texan, this past week has been scary. I have been extremely blessed to not have the problems that a lot are. I was lucky and did not lose power and did not have any pipes burst. This idea came to me after seeing that Jared and Gen were helping others while dealing with their own problems at their house. 

HERE ARE SOME LINKS TO HELP OUT IF YOU ARE ABLE TO. 

KICK THE COLD - AUSTIN MUTUAL AID

GENESIS WOMEN’S SHELTER & SUPPORT

FEEDING TEXAS

LIST OF ORGANIZATIONS SEEKING DONATIONS IN DALLAS AREA

THE WAY HOME

You do not have to donate to any of these organizations, but if you feel the need to help, here are a few links. ^^^^ There are plenty more out there if you don’t want to donate to these links. 

MASTERLIST   BUY ME A COFFEE

Winter weather will be hitting Texas this weekend. You can expect lots of snow and ice. It is best to prepare for possible power outages and water being turned off. That is worst case scenario, but be prepared as Sunday will be a cold one.

You panicked. Growing up in North Texas you never had to deal with severe winter weather. You were used to dealing with tornados. But the way they were talking on the news, this weekend was going to be bad.

Thankfully you had the day off and were able to go to the store. You grabbed a case of water and food that you could prepare and food that didn’t have to be cooked to eat. You were still getting used to the adult life as an 18 year old, but since you had been taking care of yourself the last few years, you learned a thing or two in the kitchen. You made sure to grab some snacks as well since they didn’t have to be cooked or stored in the fridge either.

As you pulled up to your apartment building, you got a call from the lead and producer of the show you were on. You still weren’t sure how you managed to land the role of Stella in the new show Walker, but you were grateful. You put the car in park and grabbed your phone.

“Hey Jare.” You said. Jared was the older brother you always wanted, even though he plays your dad and he has moments where he acts like your dad. You didn’t have a great life growing up and to have a male figure in your life to help you in anyway, made you happy. Same thing with Gen.

“Hey Y/N/N. How’re you doing?” He asked.

“I’m doing good. Just got back from the store. Am I needed on set?” You asked in a panic thinking you missed something.

“No, no you’re not needed. Just wanted to call and tell you we are not filming Monday or Tuesday next week. And depending on the weather and roads, we may cancel Wednesday as well.” He informed you.

“Oh. Is it because of the storm?” You asked.

“Yeah. We aren’t sure how bad it’ll be, but we are hoping we are just being over cautious.” He said. “You said you went to the store?”

“Yeah. I just wanted to get something’s so I won’t have to get out. And I got some stuff. I won’t need to cook in case we lose power. Also filled up with gas in case I lose heat and need to warm up some.” You told him.

“Come stay with us. We have plenty of room and we have a fireplace. We just restocked our firewood supply. I don’t want to be worrying about you all weekend.” He said.

“I’ll be okay. Really. Thank you for the offer though.” You said nicely. You really did mean it. You were used to taking care of yourself that when people did want to help you, you appreciated them.

“Well. I have my truck if I need to come get you. If you change your mind, come over. The kids would love to see you.” He said. You heard Gen agree with him in the background. “And Gen would too.”

“Well after the storm, I’ll come over for dinner to see everyone. And I’ll even come another night to babysit so you and Gen can go on a date.” You said with a laugh once you heard Gen immediately laugh.

“Gen says you don’t have to, but I will take you up on both offers.” Jared told you. “Okay. Well stay in touch. They say it’ll start sometime tomorrow night.”

“Y’all stay safe and stay in touch too.” You said. “Bye Jare.”

“Bye Y/N/N.” He said before hanging up. You put your phone back into your pocket before lugging all of the groceries into your apartment. You put everything away before going to change out of your winter clothes.

After changing into some PJs to be comfortable. You decided to meal prep some so you wouldn’t have to worry about it later. And if the weather isn’t as bad as they think it’ll be, you can just eat them throughout the week.

Sunday morning, you woke up and looked outside. All you could see was white fluffiness. You smiled as the world looked at peace. You loved snow. You always thought it brought beauty to the world.

When you walked back to your phone where it laid on its charger, you saw a couple of texts from Jared and Gen. Both had sent you photos of Tom, Shep, and Odette playing the in the snow. Then you saw Jared’s text about possible rolling power outages.

You picked up the phone and called Jared and before he could even say hello, you asked, “What does that mean? Your text... I don’t understand it.”

“It means they’ll shut the power off for an hour to three hours to preserve energy.” Jared said.

“Oh.” You said.

“Yeah, so if the power goes out, don’t worry, it should come back on.” He reassured you.

“Okay. Thank you for letting me know.” You replied.

“Of course. How are you doing anyways?” He asked.

“Good. Just woke up. Felt good to sleep in. I’m probably about to start warming up my lunch.” You informed him. “How are y’all handling it over there? I saw the pics you and Gen sent. The kids look like they’re having a blast.”

“We’re doing good. The kids are definitely loving the snow. I did have to help Gen gather the chickens this morning which wasn’t fun.” He said with a laugh.

“Oh gosh. Yeah chasing chickens isn’t fun. Are they okay? I didn’t even think about y’all’s animals?”

“They’re all in the barn with heat lamps. Thankfully the barn is powered by solar so we don’t have to worry too much if the power goes out since we have a lot of energy stored up.” He said.

“Good that’s good. Well I’ll let you get back to doing whatever you were doing. Thanks again for letting me know.”

“Anytime. If you need something, holler. Okay?” He asked.

“I will. Bye.” You said. You heard his farewell as you went to hang up the phone. After preheating the oven, you took the lasagna and boxed garlic bread out of the freezer. You figured, while the power was still on, you could cook the one meal you prepped that couldn’t be eaten cold until you cooked it and it was leftovers.

An hour later, you sat at the counter charging your phone and iPad while you ate. When you went to take another bite, the power cut off.

“Great.” You whispered. You knew it was only going to be for a few hours, but you were a little aggravated by the inconvenience. You stood up and went and put on thicker sweatpants and your socks. When you made it back to your phone to text Jared that your power went out, you saw you barely had any service. That concerned you in case you needed to make a call for an emergency.

Power just went out. Hopefully y’all didn’t lose power. I’ll let you know when it’s back on. Sent 1:23 pm

You continued to eat as you awaited a response. Shrugging when you finished your meal and put the dirty dish in the sink, you moved to the living room to read a book you started the night before.

Hours later, you still had no power and you still hadn’t heard from Jared or Gen. You had checked social media, but neither had posted anything. You decided to scroll through Twitter and saw the horrors of people’s pipes bursting and roofs caving in flooding their homes.

Seeing people in Austin posting that, you decided to grab a tote to store your valuables in. Sadly, it wasn’t a lot, but the idea of losing what little you had that meant something to you scared you.

You needed to go to your car to charge your phone and warm up some, so you decided to store your valuables in the trunk. Thankfully you had a covered parking space that was right in front of your apartment. When you put the tote in the trunk, you checked to make sure the tail pipe was clear of snow before you started the car.

After spending an hour in the car, you decided it was time for bed. Grabbing every piece of blankets you had, you cuddled up in Jared’s hoody that you stole from him when you filmed episode 2 of Walker and all the blankets. You even had on two pairs of socks on since you got cold earlier.

The next morning, you checked to see your phone still had more than half its battery life left. But what shocked you was still no response from Jared. You got on Instagram and saw that Gen had posted a boomerang of him with his socks on as gloves, but neither had checked in with you.

You were kind of upset by this. You knew they didn’t owe you anything, but it still hurt. Going to the kitchen, you saw it was flooded.

“Oh no. Oh no. Nonononono.” You panicked. You ran to the bathroom and grabbed all the towels you owned and rushed back to the kitchen. You threw them down to try and absorb as much water as possible. You opened the cabinet and saw the pipe that had burst. You grabbed your phone and called the landlord.

“Hey Craig. I had a pipe burst this morning.” You said when he answered.

“Can’t do much with the weather like this.” He said not really caring.

“Can you turn the water off or something? Or tell me where it is and I’ll do it.” You said getting angry.

“Can’t do that either. If I do that, your neighbors lose their water too.” He said.

“Well what am I supposed to do. Just sit in water all day?” You asked with an annoyed tone.

“City’s running out of water anyway so they may shut it off. So won’t be long before it stops.” He said. You got so mad that you hung up. He was useless.

After 3 hours, all of your towels were soaked and you started using some of your clothes to help absorb what the towels couldn’t. You had tried calling Jared to see if he knew what to do but it went straight to voicemail. Same with Gen.

After using most of your clothes to stop the water, you decided to pack a bag in case you had to leave. Plus it would let you know what you could use to absorb the water that still remains. Thankfully your landlord had turned the water off after multiple people called about pipes bursting. All you had to do was finish cleaning up the mess.

Two days later, you were sitting in your car, about to go back into your apartment when you got a call from Gen.

“Y/N. Oh my gosh it’s so good to hear from you. We haven’t had service, plus we lost power and had a few pipes burst. Are you okay?” She asked worriedly.

“I’m okay. Sitting in my car right now so I could charge my phone and warm up a bit.” You told her.

“You don’t have power still?” She asked.

“Nope. And I also had a pipe burst. But I cleaned it up and nothing was damaged. Did you have any damage done? Is everyone okay?” You asked concerned.

“Yeah. We are fine. And just minimal floor damage.” She told you. “Jared is cleaning that mess up while I’m going to the store. Do you need anything? We have some of our neighbors over trying to stay warm and I’m grabbing them stuff too. So I don’t mind getting you anything.”

“I’m okay. I have plenty.” You said. You wanted heat. You wanted to sleep without having to wear five layers, but you refused to ask.

“Well if you do need something, text or call. Hopefully we get service back.” She said.

“I will. Thanks Gen.” you said as you hung up. Ten minutes later you got a call from Jared.

“Pack a bag and bring some blankets.” He said before you could even greet him.

“What?” You asked genuinely confused.

“I said, pack a bag and bring some blankets. Also if you want to bring any food you don’t want to go to waste or if you have water, bring that too. I’ll come in and help you carry.” He said.

“Wh-wait.. what is happening?” You asked.

“I’m coming to get you and you are going to stay with us for a couple of days. I just got off the phone with Gen and she said you had a pipe burst and you don’t have heat. So you are going to come stay with us until your power is back on and the pipe is fixed.” He said. “I’m pulling up. I’ll be inside in a second.” He hung up before you could say anything.

You went and unlocked the door before moving to your room. You grabbed your big suitcase and packed what few pair of pants you had, a weeks worth of underwear, two weeks worth of socks since you hated having cold feet, and the remaining three sweaters and seven shirts you had. It barely filled your suitcase so you decided to throw in a couple of hoodies as well.

“That all your packing?” Jared asked concerned. No one knew how long this was going to last.

“It’s all I got clean.” You answered honestly.

“No way.” He said in disbelief. You shrugged and told him to follow you as you walked into the kitchen. He saw the pile of clothes and towels on the ground. “Oh Y/N. I’m sorry this happened to you.”

“Happened to you too.” You said before moving back to your room. You grabbed a blanket and started to fold it, starting a pile you were taking with you to the Padalecki’s. Once you finished that, you grabbed your pillow too.

“Want any books or anything? You have room in your suitcase.” Jared said as he pointed to it. You shrugged and grabbed a few books you had been wanting to read. After throwing them into the suitcase, you ran to the living room to grab your iPad and chargers.

“We can charge them in the cars if we need to.” Jared said when you thought about not putting them in your bag. You nodded before throwing them in and zipping it up. “This ready to go to the truck?” You nodded once again before he grabbed the suitcase handle and stack of blankets and your pillow with ease. “Go figure out food and I’ll come back to help.”

Once in the kitchen, you grabbed the full water case you had bought a few days before and the almost empty one that you had already opened. You then moved to the fridge to grab the few casserole dishes you had left to eat. You grabbed your travel food carrier and put the casseroles in first before the almost empty case of water in after it. You saw Jared walking back in and asked,

“Is there any food of mine you want? I’ve got everything packed that will definitely go bad before I get back. The rest has already gone bad.” You said while looking at Jared who was looking through your cabinets. He found your snack one and grabbed a few things and shoved them in your carrier.

“That’s all I want.” He smirked. “Ready to go? We can come back in a couple of days if we need to.”

“Ready.” You walked to his truck and he helped you load the water and carrier. As you got into the passenger seat and started to buckle, you said, “thanks for coming to get me and letting me stay with you.”

“Anything for family.” He said smiling at you before driving carefully back to his house.

“But we aren’t family?” You said more as a question.

“You’re my tv daughter, so technically we are.” He said with a laugh. “But in all seriousness, I do see you as family. Me and you have gotten close over these past few months. I can see you as a daughter and I can see you as a little sister.” You could hear the sincerity in his voice.

“Really?” You asked. He nodded his head. “It means a lot to hear you say that. I see you as a big brother.”

“Good.” You saw him smile. “That means you can ask me for anything or do anything and I’ll be there for you. Sorry I didn’t come get you sooner. I thought about it.”

“It’s okay. I tried calling but could never get through. It happens. I’m just glad nothing more serious happened. I’m glad we are all safe.” You said honestly.

“And we are about to get you warm. We have the fire going in the living room and in mine and Gen’s room. Kids have been sleeping with us or on the floor in our room. You’re welcome to make a pallet in front of the fire and crash there.” He said as he pulled into his driveway.

“Sleeping in front of a warm fire sounds lovely right now. Thank you.” You leaned over and gave him a big hug. “I love you Jare.” You said before pulling back to kiss his cheek.

“Love you too y/n/n.” He smiled at you. “Now let’s go take all this in and get you warmed up.”

Tags: @deadcoldhearts​

[impalas-r-important]

Branch Out - Chapter 2

Summary: Y/N left everything she's ever known, and Dean just wants to be left alone. With both of them trying to heal from heartache, they might just end up finding what they need in the last place they'd ever look.

Word Count: 6550

Pairing: Dean x Reader (eventually, maybe?)

Warnings: I don't think there are any for this chapter, but if you think i should add one, feel free to let me know!

Read Chapter 1

Branch Out Masterlist

My Masterlist

Saturday was a welcome break from work, but there was no sleeping in. A delivery truck brought your bed frame, a small kitchen table, and a coffee table early in the morning and you were over the moon about not having to sleep on the cold floor anymore. You figured the tables would be fairly easy to put together, so you left those for last. You emptied the box with the bedframe and did your best to carefully lay out all the pieces so they would be easy to find as you went along. Before you started, you grabbed your radio and shuffled through your CDs, deciding on The Eagles to be today’s soundtrack.

You threw half of your hair up in a bun to pull the small pieces from your face, rolled up your sleeves, and looked around for the instructions. You couldn’t actually remember seeing any kind of paper as you unpacked the pieces, so you dumped out the box. Nothing. You looked under every piece of wood, and in every corner of your tiny house, but came up empty handed.

“Fan-friggin-tastic…” You grumbled and stared down the lumber and hardware, trying to make sense of this now seemingly impossible puzzle.

Hours had passed, and you had only managed to put together a pathetic amount of the bedframe. The stupid bits and pieces that were strewn across the floor taunted you with every wrong part you picked up. Before any vital pieces ended up getting thrown into the fireplace out of frustration, you decided it would be best to take a break and make some lunch. You needed to make a run to the grocery store and stock your fridge and shelves, but you’d need to wait until you got your truck back, so you kept your fingers were crossed that Bobby would be able to get to it today.

You settled on a protein shake and a banana for your meal and were sitting on the kitchen counter when two quick knocks at the door interrupted your thoughts. You turned the music down a notch and wove your way through the maze of wood that had taken over your living room. You were expecting to see Sarah standing on the other side of your front door but were surprised to find Dean. One hand was slipped into his coat pocket and his shoulders were slightly rounded, showing that he didn’t really want to be here right now.

“Oh,” you did your best to not sound massively surprised but did a bang-up job, “hi.”

“Hey,” he cleared his throat, and a tuft of breath flew from his mouth in the cold air, “I just wanted to say sorry for being kind of a dick last night. I’m not really a people person and I’m definitely not used to having neighbors.” His eyes, which were glued to the ground made their way up to meet yours. “The bars were good though. I ate them all last night. I figured you’d want this back.” He extended his arm holding the plate you had placed the treats on to take over to him.

You tried your hardest to stop the smug smirk that was pulling at the corners of your mouth. “That’s actually a disposable plate.”

“Oh,” he looked down at it, “it’s one of the fancy plastic ones though, so I wasn’t sure if you wanted it back or not…” It was definitely not fancy, but the thought of him scrubbing the sticky blueberry mess off of a cheap plate was completely endearing.

“Well, good as new then.” You smiled and took the plate back from him, making a mental note to only give him paper plates from here on out if the situation arose. You stepped just inside the door and tossed the plastic onto the kitchen counter.

Dean raised an eyebrow as he snuck a peek at the mess that was you house at the moment. “Whoa, did a bomb go off in here?”

You looked around with a sigh. “No, but I’m about ready to blow the whole place up and just start over.” Stepping out of the way, you signaled for Dean to come in out of the freezing cold. He stomped his boots off on the front porch and stepped inside. “I didn’t bring any furniture with me when I moved, so I ordered some online. This mess,” you motioned vaguely around the room, “is supposed to be a bedframe but some genius forgot to put the instructions in the box.”

“How long have you been at it?” Dean stepped closer to the junk yard that had become your living room.

You really didn’t want to answer that question because you figured he’d just tell you what you were doing wrong. “Not that long.” Lying had never been something you were good at. Dean took one look at the guilty look on your face and saw right through it.

“So, all morning?”

“All morning.” You admitted and crossed your arms in shame. For a short second, you could have sworn that you saw a hint of a smile on Dean’s face. He was probably laughing at your miserable handy work.

“Well, for starters, you should put the bedframe together in the bedroom. Not the living room.” He walked around the wood pieces and began organizing them into piles.

“The bedroom is really small, so I figured it would be easier to put the big pieces together out here and then put the whole thing together in the bedroom.” You watched with some distain as he easily began to piece together the headboard. “You don’t have to do that, you know…”

“Do what?” He asked but didn’t look up from his crouched position on the floor.

“Help.” You shrugged. “I heard you loud and clear last night that you aren’t looking for friends.”

Dean paused for a moment. “Maybe I’m just staying for the good music.”

“You like The Eagles?”

“Who doesn’t?”

“One of my dad’s rules to live by is that you should never trust people who wear socks to bed or people who hate The Eagles.”

“Your dad sounds like a smart man.” There it was again, an elusive smile from the self-proclaimed loner. You were sure you saw it this time. “But I do have to say that no one beats the mighty Zep.”

You could respect a guy who loved the classics. “Wow, the good taste in music almost makes up for the crabby attitude.”

Dean knew you were teasing and gave you a fed-up look. “Do you have a drill?” He asked.

You picked up a screwdriver from the counter and held it up. Dean shook his head. “No, an actual drill.”

“I have a hammer…”

A chuckle escaped from Dean’s chest. “You were planning on hammering these screws into your new furniture?”

“I was working with what I had. Don’t judge me.”

Dean stood and amusedly shook his head as he made his way to the door, leaving it open while he walked to his truck and pulled a drill from the toolbox that was in the bed. As you watched, you noticed that your driveway had been cleared of the snow from last night’s flurry and couldn’t help but find that odd. You didn’t hear a truck outside your house this morning.

Dean skipped a few steps up the stairs and hurried inside, taking off his coat once he had shut the door after him. “Can I put this here?” He laid his it over the back of a chair that had been here when you moved in.

“Yeah.” You took one more peek out the window at the plowed path to your house from the road. “Hey, weird question, but you wouldn’t happen to know how my driveway got cleared, would you?”

“You ever heard of a snowplow?” His words dripped with sarcasm, but you were well versed in the language as well.

“A snowplow? Hmm, doesn’t ring a bell. What’s that?” You exaggerated every word, but Dean still looked up at you with furrowed brows before realizing that you were joking.

“I just didn’t realize the plows would come this far up the mountain. I promise I’m not as dumb as I look.” Kneeling a few feet away from him on the floor, you held the piece of wood his was trying to secure in place steady.

“The driver is a buddy of mine, He’s a good guy so he probably just wanted to help out the new girl.” Dean explained. You couldn’t help but feel lucky that you had found a place that was full of kind folks. The headboard was put together in a matter of minutes and Dean carried it into your bedroom with ease before picking out the pieces for the footboard.

“Thank you, Dean. I know this is probably not how you wanted to spend your Saturday afternoon.”

“I like to build things. I built my cabin, so a bedframe is a piece of cake.”

“I guess that’s pretty impressive.” Casually playing that off made Dean slightly smile again. You could tell he was feeling a little more comfortable.

“What are you doing up here all by yourself anyway?” He quickly wiped any traces of emotion from his face.

You shrugged. “I just needed a new start and this place fell in my lap, so I jumped. I might be a little in over my head, but I have to start somewhere, right?”

“Why’d you move?” You thought it bold of him to ask the hard-hitting questions but admired his straightforwardness.

You took a moment to carefully word your response. “Sometimes you just need to take yourself out of an unhealthy situation even if it’s the only thing you’ve ever known.”

Dean was surely picking up on your lack of details. “I can respect that.” His eyes fell to the bruise on your arm that he had first noticed a few days before. You self-consciously rubbed the sore spot and felt grateful for the phone ringing that stopped the conversation from progressing any further.

You looked to see that Bobby’s shop was calling and brought the phone to your ear. “Hey, Bobby.”

Dean watched as you slowly paced back and forth by the window. He had felt ridiculous this morning for washing a stupid plastic plate just so he could have an excuse to come over and apologize, but he was glad that risk paid off, even if you did think he was clueless.

As he put the last few screws in the footboard, Dean couldn’t help but overhear the conversation you were having on the phone. You sounded a little disappointed and Dean assumed that Bobby had called with bad news.

“How’s the truck?” Dean asked once you had joined him on the floor and began picking up the spare screws.

“Apparently my truck is an ‘old piece of crap’, and the only battery Bobby had that would fit ended up being a dud. He ordered a new one, but it won’t be in until Monday.”

While Dean agreed that your truck should probably be retired, he felt empathetic that you’d had so many problems with it since moving in. “I’ll give you a ride to work.” The words flew from his mouth before he really thought about what he was saying. That wasn’t normally something he’d offer to do. “If you want, that is.”

“Dean, I can’t ask you to do that…” You were sure at this point that he thought you were just some helpless stupid girl that didn’t know how to do anything for yourself.

“Well, you didn’t ask. I volunteered.”

“Still, you’ve done so much for me in the short time that I’ve been here, I feel like I’m just mooching off of you at this point.”

“I’ve barely done anything.” Dean brushed your statement off, but you knew you were right.

“You gave me a ride on my first day, fixed my battery, you’re here wasting your Saturday helping me put together furniture, and now you’re going to give me another ride to work on Monday. That sounds like mooching to me.”

“Your house and City Hall are both on my way to work. I haven’t been the most welcoming person in the world, so let’s just call it even.”

You could tell that he wasn’t going to take no for an answer, so you got up and went into the kitchen. You opened the cabinet and pulled out another plate of blueberry pie bars and took them to Dean. He gladly accepted.

After pulling back the plastic wrap and shoving a whole bar in his mouth, he mumbled, “Now we’re definitely even.” He rubbed his hands together to brush the crumbs off and finished his bite. “You had these the whole time and you weren’t going to share?”

“That recipe makes a lot. I figured I’d take half to you last night and the other half to work on Monday, but my co-workers aren’t here helping me put together furniture, so bon appetite.”

He put another in his mouth and nodded in approval. “You can keep the plate this time.” You couldn’t help but tease Dean. He stopped midchew and gave you a jaded glare which you did your best to ignore and instead focused on suppressing your laughter. Dean was still trying to hide his smiles, but you caught a glance anyway.

“It’s not a waste, by the way.”

You tilted your head in confusion.

“You said I was wasting my Saturday by helping you out. But I don’t mind.” He briefly looked up at you but continued before could say anything else. “Help me move these.”

After carrying all the pieces into the bedroom and putting them together, Dean helped you lift your mattress onto the frame, and you threw yourself onto the bed.

“So. Much. Better.” You closed your eyes and inhaled through your nose before giving a comfortable sigh. You knew your back would appreciate the little bit of give that the frame allowed. Dean was leaning against the door and you caught his eyes as you sat up. He quickly looked away when you noticed him staring.

“I saw two other boxes out there. Do they need to be put together too?” Dean almost seemed excited to dig into the next project.

“Yes, but if you have somewhere you need to be, I think I can handle it.”

Dean checked his watch. “It’d give me a good excuse to not go to Jo’s party tonight.”

“Jo, that’s Bobby and Ellen’s daughter, right?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, parties aren’t really my scene.”

“I’m with you on that one.” You were quite the introvert yourself and could relate to the feeling of social dread. “Well, if you’re sure, then be my guest.”

You followed Dean into the living room, and he dragged the bigger of the two boxes over and began to pull out the contents. A growl from your stomach and a glance at the clock told you that it was dinner time.

“Are you hungry?”

Dean shrugged. “A little.”

You opened your cabinets and fridge as if there would be more food than there was earlier. “I’m low on supplies, but I’ve got stuff for turkey sandwiches. Is that okay?”

“Sounds great.”

You threw together two sandwiches and Dean already had half the table put together by the time you were done. You handed his plate to him and sat down on the floor against the wall next to the fireplace. Dean shook the wood dust from his pants and joined you.

“So, accounting, huh? Was that always the dream job?” All of Dean’s questions were posed as if he was only making nonchalant small talk, but the way he intently listened told you that he actually cared about your answers.

“No, but it pays the bills, and I don’t mind numbers. I don’t always love it, but I really like the people I work with here.” Dean was still working on a mouthful of food and you figured it was your turn to ask the questions. “Did you always want to be a lumberjack?”

Dean scoffed. “I’m not a lumberjack!”

“That’s debatable. Sarah said you work at the sawmill, I’ve only ever seen you wear plaid, and apparently you’re the wood whisperer.” You motioned to the almost completed table.

“Well, yeah, but I don’t go prancing around the woods with an axe on my shoulder.”

“Whatever you say.” You figured if he wanted to share more details with you, he would.

“I don’t just work at the sawmill, I run it.”

“How is it being the head-honcho?” Although you did a lot of paperwork for you job, you didn’t envy the workload of a CEO.

“Awful.” His answer was blunt and straightforward. “My dad pulled me into the family business a few years ago and I took over when he got sick.”

“I heard about that. How is he doing now?”

“He’s good. I think he and my mom are hoping to move back soon.”

“What would you be doing if you weren’t working at the sawmill?”

Dean was a little caught off guard by your question. “Why does it matter?”

“Because you can’t go through life hating most of it. That’s just going to make you miserable.” You were speaking from experience.

Dean’s eyes examined yours as if he was trying to find an ulterior motive behind your questions. “I worked as a mechanic for a long time and loved it. I always thought I’d take over for Bobby when he retired down at the shop.”

“Maybe when your dad gets back you can switch over?”

“Yeah, maybe.” Dean’s hesitancy to open up when his dad was brought up told you to drop the subject.

After you both were finished eating, he stood and offered a hand to help you up. “Let’s get this thing finished so you don’t have to keep eating on the floor.”

You spent the rest of the evening handing Dean the hardware he asked for and listening to oldies. Maybe he wasn’t the most talkative guy in the world, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence that fell between you two. It was actually nice to be in the company of someone who wasn’t going to push for every detail of your life story.

After breaking down the empty carboard boxes that were the remnants of a long afternoon’s work, Dean pulled on his coat.

“Thank you for all your help today. The place is finally starting to come together.” Although you were still without a couch, your home started to look more livable.

“Don’t mention it. So, I’ll see you Monday morning then?” He asked before he reached for the door handle.

You nodded with a smile and handed him the plate of blueberry bars. He excitedly took it from you and gave a soft smile.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Night, Dean.”

Monday morning slowly crept up after a Sunday spent mostly in bed. It had snowed most of the day and night so you bundled up as much as you could. A peek out the window showed that your small driveway had been plowed again. You put a reminder in your phone to get a thank you gift for the plow driver who was a guardian angel in disguise. Dean pulled up just a few seconds later and you hurried out to his truck.

“Mornin’.” He greeted.

“Hey yourself.” You buckled your seatbelt and extended your hands towards the vent like you had done the last time Dean gave you a ride. His truck was much newer than yours and the heater worked like a charm.

“What’s on your agenda for today?” He asked as he backed out onto the road.

“Expense reports. They’re as thrilling as they sound. And also, I’m covering the front desk solo. Sarah texted and said she woke up with a fever, so she’s taking a sick day.”

“I’ll have to ask Sam how she’s doing.” A few minutes passed as you slowly made your way down the slick road. “So, listen, it’s supposed to snow all day. I’ll come and grab you after work and take you down to Bobby’s place.”

“Oh, you don’t need to do that. It’s like a ten-minute walk.”

“It’s a good excuse to make sure I don’t get pulled into some long boring meeting at the end of the day.”

“Well then in that case you’re welcome.” You gave a cheeky grin which was returned.

Thankfully, the ride to work was short. Driving in the snow gave you serious anxiety so the sight of City Hall was a welcomed one.

“What time should I come pick you up?”

“I’m off at four, but I can stay later if you can’t get out that early.”

“Four is great. One of the perks of being the boss is that I can make my own hours.”

Ellen waved to you as she walked in, so you quickly said goodbye to Dean and joined her. Dean waited to make sure you got inside okay before taking off.

“Did Dean give you a ride today?” Ellen looked at you skeptically.

“Yeah, my truck is still in the shop, so he volunteered to drop me off on his way to work.”

“Hmm. That’s weird.” She took her hat off and shook the snow from it. “It’s been years since I’ve seen Dean socializing with anyone that’s not in his little circle.”

“Honestly, I think he just pities me because I’m new and clueless when it comes to snow.” Shrugging your coat off, you set it on the back of your chair and placed your bag underneath your desk.

“I never thought I’d see him speak to another girl after what Cassie did to him.” Ellen shook her head and raised her eyebrows.

“Cassie?” This was the first you’d heard of her.

“Yeah, she broke his heart pretty bad a few years back.”

Garth appeared from around the corner and called Ellen back to his office. You knew that Dean had a rough few years but hadn’t heard many details aside from his dad getting cancer, which was a hard enough situation on its own. While you wanted to know more, you didn’t want to dig for info where it was none of your business. If Dean wanted to tell you about Cassie, he would do it on his own time and you would just have to respect that.

Dean arrived at the sawmill and made his way to his office on the upper level of the plant. Not ten minutes after he began his day’s work, Sam entered and sat down in one of the chairs across from Dean’s desk.

“Where were you Saturday night? I thought you said you were going to Jo’s party.”

Dean shrugged. “I got busy and didn’t realize what time it was.”

“Busy with what? I’m sure there’s not that much to do up that mountain of yours.”

“Just busy.”

Sam was used to his brother’s antics at this point and knew it was futile to push for details.

“How’s Sarah doing?” Dean asked, hoping to delay the morning managers meeting as long as possible.

“She’s alright. Woke up with a fever, so she’s just going to sleep it off.” A lightbulb went off for Sam and he frowned. “Wait, how did you know that Sarah’s sick?”

“Crap…” Dean thought to himself. He knew he was busted. “I don’t know. I just heard it through the grapevine.”

“I didn’t tell anyone about her and I’m pretty sure the only people she told were the people at work…” Sam thought long and hard for a few seconds until he realized what must have happened. “Y/N?”

Sam had always been too smart for his own good and Dean had always hated it. “I gave her a ride to work while Bobby has her truck. That’s all.”

“Is that what you were busy with on Saturday too?”

Dean sent messages to Benny and Cas, instructing them to quickly come up to his office to start the morning meeting and hopefully get Sam off his back.

Sam took Dean’s silence as a yes. “What did you guys do all night then?”

“We had a pillow fight and painted each other’s nails.”

Sam had a special bitch-face reserved for Dean and was throwing it his way now.

“We put together furniture and ate sandwiches on the floor. There, now you know. Happy?”

Cas and Benny walked in together.

“Hey fellas, what’s the news?” Benny greeted.

Dean knew from Sam’s devious grin that the end of this conversation was nowhere in sight. “Dean wasn’t at Jo’s party because he was with the new girl in town.”

Cas quickly turned his head and looked at Dean as if he had lobsters crawling out his ears. “This Dean? Our Dean?”

Sam nodded and Benny laughed as he took a seat. “I heard she’s real pretty! It’s about time you find a good one. Nice job, brother.”

Dean groaned and rubbed his hands over his face. “Listen, I helped her out with one thing. I barely know her, so cut the crap or I will fire all of you asses.”

Cas, Benny and Sam all exchanged mischievous looks but dropped the subject to avoid Dean’s angry side coming out for the rest of the day.

The day was slow for you, but it gave you plenty of time to finish verifying payroll hours for everyone. Sarah’s energetic personality was definitely being missed as you began to feel drowsy around two thirty. The bell to the front door dinged so you stood to find Sheriff Mills and her son.

“Mom, you promised that you wouldn’t have to work today.” The little boy moaned.

“I’m sorry, honey. The Mayor just has to meet with me for a few minutes and then I promise I’m all yours, okay?”

“Hey guys! Can I help with anything?” You greeted.

“Y/N, hey. How are you settling in?” Jody gave a warm smile and did her best to ignore her son who was tugging at her sleeve.

“I’m finally getting everything set up, so I’d say pretty well. Who’s this handsome fella with you?”

The little boy blushed a little as you leaned on the counter and smiled down at him.

“This is my son, Owen. It’s technically my day off, but do I ever really get a day off as a Sheriff?”

Owen continued to pull at Jody’s sleeve and beg to leave.

“Hey Owen, do you happen to like hot chocolate?” You had always been good with kids and figured you try to help Jody out while she met with Garth. You were pretty much done with your work for the day anyway.

Owen nodded shyly. “Well, I don’t want to brag, but I make a mean breakroom hot chocolate. You want to help me make some while your mom meets with the Mayor? If that’s okay with her, that is.”

Owen looked to his mom for approval and she nodded. He ran behind the front desk and Jody mouthed a silent, “Thank you,” to which you smiled and led Owen back to the breakroom.

After making two steaming cups of hot chocolate, you took pushed together two empty desks and taught Owen how to play paper football. After showing him how to fold the paper and a few practice rounds, you began to keep track of points. The winner would take home a medal that you made from paperclips and an eraser.

Time flew by and before you knew it, over an hour had passed. You heard someone come in the door and looked over to see Dean. He had arrived a few minutes early and decided to wait for you inside rather than in the cold car.

“Am I crashing the party?” Dean leaned on the front desk.

“Dean!” Owen side-stepped the desk and ran to wrap his arms around Dean’s waist.

“You’re just in time for the final round of paper football. You in?” You held up the small piece of folded paper with a playful grin.

“Step aside, let the master show you how it’s done.” Dean ripped off his coat and set it on your desk. “What do I get when I win?”

You held up the eraser necklace and Owen excitedly added that he helped make it.

You and Owen were neck in neck in the first round, but you scuffed your last shot on purpose and made a big stink about it. Dean ruffled Owen’s hair as he knelt down at the end of the desk and lined up his shot perfectly. Owen held his own but missed his last shot and Dean knew that he could win if he made the next one. He set his paper up perfectly and you couldn’t help but giggle at the exaggerated sigh of concentration that he let out. Dean’s eyeline moved from the game quickly up to you as he gave a quick wink and under-shot his chance on purpose, giving the win to Owen if he made his next shot, which he did.

Jody paused before entering the room and watched from just out of sight as Owen jumped up and down in triumph. Ellen joined and leaned on the wall, watching as you helped Owen up onto the desk and presented him with the make-shift medal that you had thrown together. Dean put Owen on his shoulders and did a victory lap around the desks while squeals of delight filled the air.

“Are my eyes deceiving me, or is Dean Winchester acting like he’s been properly socialized?” Jody tilted her head to look at Ellen who was smiling knowingly.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him like this. Ever since a little bird flew into town, he’s seems to be a little less crotchety.”

Jody and Ellen watched the smile that you and Dean shared once he put Owen down.

“Mom!” Owen ran over and proudly showed off his medal.

“That’s great, hon!” Jody looked up as you and Dean approached. “You guys are lifesavers; I really owe you one.”

“We had fun, huh?” You nudged Owen with your arm causing him to blush and avert his eyes. You smirked and turned to Dean. “I’ll go grab my stuff and then we can head out.”

Dean knelt down and held his hand out for a high-five. “Good game, kid. That’s well-deserved.” He pointed at the eraser hanging around Owen’s neck.

“I like Y/N. She’s fun… and pretty.” Owen whispered to Dean. Jody instructed her son to grab his coat and said goodbye to everyone.

Dean was leaning against your desk when you came out from the back.

“Ready?” He asked.

“Ready.” You smiled in response.

Once you were in Dean’s truck, you asked, “how do you know Owen so well?”

“When my parents moved away, Jody kind of took me and Sam under her wing and made sure we were taken care of. We were over at her house for dinner a fair amount, so Owen and I are pretty good buddies.”

“Jody seems sweet. I like her.”

“She’s one of the good ones. A lot of people here are. Ellen has always been a surrogate mom to me as well. My dad and I don’t always get along, so Bobby and Ellen kind of adopted me when I was pretty young.”

“I’m sorry about your dad.”

“Don’t be. We all have our issues.”

Dean pulled up outside Bobby’s shop just a few short minutes later. “I’ll come in with you and make sure everything’s working okay. I gotta talk to Bobby anyway.”

You and Dean rushed inside out of the cold and Jo looked up from the front desk. “Hey Dean!”

“Hey, Jo. Your dad around?”

“He’s on the phone but should be done soon.” She turned her gaze to you. “You must be the new girl.”

“Yeah, I’m Y/N. It’s nice to finally meet you.” You offered a smile to Jo, which was not returned.

“We’re just here for her truck. You got the keys?” Dean picked up on Jo’s attitude and tried to hurry the conversation along.

She shuffled through the box of keys that was on the desk and pulled one out, reading the tag to make sure it was the right one before tossing it to you. You caught it easily and thanked her.

“What do I owe you?”

“We’ll send you the bill.”

“Oh, okay. I guess I’ll just head out then.” You turned to Dean. “See you around. Thanks again for the ride.”

Dean nodded with a shy smile and watched as you got in your truck and left. He wasn’t sure why, but part of him was hoping that the truck wouldn’t start up, so you’d have to ride back with him, but he knew Bobby was too good of a mechanic for that. The rumble of your engine starting up signaled your official exit and Dean hastily made his way back to Bobby’s office to avoid Jo’s impending interrogation on why he had ditched out on her party.

You had gotten to work a little early the next day and were at your desk when Sarah came in.

“Hey, how you feeling?” You had texted her the night before to see if she needed anything, but she said Sam was doing a great job at playing nurse.

“Much better. I think it was just one of those twenty-four-hour bugs. How was yesterday?”

“Slow and quiet. It was weird without you here. Jody brought Owen in and we had a paper football tournament, which was pretty fun though.”

“I’m sorry I missed out!”

Ellen walked out from her office and sat at an empty desk next to you and Sarah. “Are you still good for Thursday, Y/N?”

“You bet!”

“What’s Thursday?” Sarah wondered.

“Ellen, Garth and I are heading to Baker for a convention on the new tax regulations for this year. We’ll head down Thursday morning and come back up on Saturday night.”

Sarah’s face dropped. “No, not this weekend! Saturday is Dean’s birthday and we’re throwing him a surprise party down at The Salty Hunter. I was going to invite you both today!”

“Oh, shoot…” You felt bad that you’d miss Dean’s birthday when he’d been so helpful to you lately.

“Well, maybe we can try to be back for the party?” Ellen suggested. “We’ll head out as soon as we can.”

“I’m going to hold you to that.” Sarah pointed a finger at you both.

“What’s The Salty Hunter?” You wondered.

“That’s the bar on main street. Rufus, who owns it, used to be a hunter so he named it after himself. He’s a character but a good guy.” Ellen explained.

That night after work you went grocery shopping and then headed home to make some dinner and watch something stupid to unwind before bed. You changed into pajamas and a t-shirt and settled down at your new table. Before you could take a bite of your pasta, someone knocked on your door. You peeked through the curtains to see who it was and saw Dean standing outside, shaking his leg to try and stay warm.

You unlocked the door and the wind helped it open. “Get in here, it’s freezing!” You ordered and Dean gladly complied.

“How’s the truck working?” He rubbed his hands together to thaw his fingers.

“Like a charm. Bobby really knows his stuff.” You grabbed the blanket that was slung over the back of a chair and wrapped it around yourself as you sat and offered Dean the other chair at the table.

“So, uh,” he traced the woodgrain pattern on the floor with his eyes as if he was afraid to look at you, “I don’t know if you have any plans on Saturday, but some friends and I are getting together down at the bar if you want to get to know a few more people. It’s nothing big.”

“This little gathering wouldn’t happen to be for your birthday, would it?” You raised a knowing eyebrow. “Sarah told me about it today.”

Dean chuckled. “Yeah, but it’s not really a party or anything. I just thought it would be good for you to get out of this tiny cabin. I’m not even supposed to know about it, but Sam told me.”

You were surprised that Dean went out of his way to invite you, and the gesture made you feel even worse that you might not be there.

“I’m going to try my absolute hardest to be there. Ellen, Garth and I are actually going to be at a tax thing from Thursday until Saturday but we’re making it our goal to be back in time.”

“Like I said, it’s not a big deal, so don’t stress about it.”

“Birthdays are a big deal, so don’t play it off all casual. Plus, I already have the perfect present picked out for you, so it would be a shame if you didn’t get it.”

An inquisitive look lit up Dean’s emerald eyes. “The perfect present, huh? You sure you know me that well?”

“I am one hundred percent sure it will be the best present you’ve ever gotten from me.” Considering that you’d never given him a present before, you weren’t wrong.

Dean pushed his jaw slightly to one side and pressed his tongue to his canine while fighting a grin. “You’re funny, you know that?”

You scrunched you nose and stood from your chair. “Have you eaten? I’ve got extra.” Before he answered, you were already dishing him up a plate of spaghetti.

“No, I just got off work. Late day at the office.” He dug right into his food when you set it down on the table. “Are you planning on getting a couch or something?” He looked out into the barren room.

“No, I think I like empty, minimalistic look. It’s very modern.”

At this point, Dean had a pretty firm grasp on your dry sense of humor and just shook his head. He scarfed down his food and went back for a second plate while you cleaned up the kitchen a bit. He washed his own plate when he was done and placed it in the drying rack.

“Well, I didn’t mean to interrupt your night. I would have just texted you to invite you, but I don’t have your number.”

You held out your hand and Dean reached into his pocket and gave you his phone. It was an old, sturdy Nokia flip phone and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Look at this dinosaur. I haven’t seen one of these since… I don’t know, middle school?”

“It’s not that old.” Dean tried to defend himself. “I tried the fancy smart phones, but I hated them. Who needs a phone for more than just calling and texting?”

You flipped it open dramatically and saved your number before handing it back to him right as it began to ring. “It’s Sam, I should probably get this. Thanks again for dinner. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“You didn’t. I always make way too much pasta anyway.”

Dean gave a grateful smile and a small wave as he answered the phone and left.

Chapter 3

[innaminitus]

Alone

Pairing: Sirius Black x reader

Request:  Hi! I love your work. I was wondering if I can please have Sirius Black x FemReader smut. Where they spend Christmas with reader's muggle family. Reader's family is so in love with her charming new boyfriend that the two barely get a second to themselves. They have tried to sneak away and let's say they have been caught in some comprising positions. Eventually, they get time to themselves for some adult fun. (form: @sweetandsourfics​)

Warnings: smut, young!sirius, shitty proofreading

Word count: 1898

A/N: this took so freaking long to finish, i’m sorry. also tumblr hates me and i am upset because this post won’t show up on the “recent” page (therefore reblogs are very welcome and apprieciated) 

Nervous wasn’t the word that could possibly describe how you felt. Scared would maybe be better. Terrified, perhaps. You boyfriend, on the other hand, seemed as excited as ever. His shaggy hair was glistening with melted snow, his smile bright as the sun. He was so happy… Christmas was always special time for you, but never for him. You wanted to change it, and he was more than pleased to let you. That’s why you invited him to spend Christmas with you and your family. Your parents were always supportive, and always so curious about the wizarding community, so when you wrote them a letter asking if it was okay for Sirius to come they were happy to agree. Only now it didn’t seem like a good idea. Sirius was charming and funny, but what if your parents won’t like him?

“Y/N!” Your mom stormed out of the house as soon as you got out of the cab. She closed you in a tight hug. “I’ve missed you so much!”

“Me too,” you laughed in her hair, hugging her back. She smelled like cinnamon sticks and dried oranges, the best possible scent ever.

Your dad walked to you as well and grabbed your suitcase after hugging you.

“Mom, dad, this is Sirius.” You grabbed his hand and smiled lovingly at his rosy cheeks.

“It’s so nice to meet you!” You boyfriend wasn’t intimidated at all when he shook hands with your dad, and was just a bit surprised when your mom pulled him into a hug.

“We’ve heard so much about you!” She took a step back, but still held his arms. “I hope you like casserole, Y/N told me you do, so I made some for today’s dinner and–“

“Honey,” your dad stopped her chattering. “Let’s go outside first, it’s snowing again, we’ll freeze here.”

“Yes, you’re right,” she laughed and shook her head. “I’m just so glad to have you both here.”

Your father opened the door and let you all in. “Sirius will sleep in the guest room, is that alright?”

“Perfect, sir,” he answered, smiling widely.

“I’ll show him the room,” you anticipated your mom, who already opened her mouth, and grabbed Sirius’ hand.

You dragged him to said room and sighed when he closed the door behind him. He placed his bag on the bed and turned to you with soft smile.

“Your parents are really cool, you know?” He gently grabbed your face in his hands and brought you as close as he could without breaking eye contact.  

“They can be a little… too much. Especially mom,” you laughed softly.

He leaned and kissed your smile, warmth of his lips made you lean onto him and wrap your arms around his waist. You opened your lips slightly, his tongue slipped into your mouth.

“Kids!” You heard your mom calling you. “Come for dinner!”

With a sigh you kissed Sirius once again and with slight smile left the room.

***

You thought that trying to get some private time was hard enough at Hogwarts, but your home was whole another level of impossible. The thing is, your parents really loved Sirius. He was charming, as always, and he soon became their favorite. Everything had to be approved by him, every dish seasoned to his liking, and they never had enough of his stories about the “big, wizarding world” as they called it. It was all adorable and you were happy they liked him, but it made everything much more difficult for you.

First night when Sirius tried to sneak into your room, the squeaking floor woke your parents and your mother rushed out of the bed to give Sirius a glass of water he surely woke up for. Yes, your parents were all too helpful.

But now… this could be the day. Your father and mother went out to buy some groceries for Christmas and currently you were sitting on Sirius, his tongue in your mouth, your fingers lost in his black hair. His hands were on your hips, guiding you slightly back and forth, just enough so you could grind onto his hard length still trapped in his jeans. You were purposefully wearing only skirts, so now the stiff material of this trousers rubbed you perfectly through your thin, wet panties. You sighed in his mouth when he moved you harder on his hardness, just enough to hit your pulsing clit. You brought him closer, feeling the pleasure slowly spill in your lady parts. While one of his hands stayed on your hips, the other travelled up, under your sweater where it kneaded your breast through your soft bra.

The door swung open. “Honey, I forgot to ask you– Oh.“ You’ve never jumped so fast before. Your mom was all red, with her hand on the doorknob and shopping list in the other. “–If Sirius likes spinach.” She decided to pretend as if nothing was happening before she entered the room and you thanked for that in your mind, even though she seemed a little struck.

“I– I love spinach,” Sirius said, breaking uncomfortable silence. “But maybe I should go with you, I’m sure you could use someone to carry the groceries.”

You knew what he was doing. He wanted to make your mom feel more comfortable with the thought that you two won’t be alone at home again, and even though your pussy ached for his dick like never before you had to admit it was smart. He dulled her vigilance, and she would soon forget it.

“Yes, thank you, dear.” She smiled at him hesitantly. “It would be a great help.”

He touched your hand reassuringly and left with your mom. You heard him put on his shoes and your mom asking whether there were Christmas songs in this “wizarding world”, and then them closing the door.

You were left alone in the guest room that already smelled like Sirius, with your panties wet and pulsing pussy. With a sigh you lied down on the pillows, accidentally landing on his shirt. You wanted to move it out of your way, but as soon as your fingers touched the fabric you felt your beloved scent of brown sugar and cheap cigarettes and your pussy throbbed again.

You knew they weren’t going to be back within an hour… and you were so horny. Without a second thought you brought the shirt closer to your face, closed your eyes and inhaled deeply, until your whole existence consisted only of this smell. Your hand slid under the skirt and touched soaking panties. You were all sensitive from grinding onto Sirius and even the slightest touch was enough to make you pant. You grabbed the material and pulled it up, so the panties formed a single stipe of fabric that sunk between your folds. You pulled it again, rubbing it against your clit, and continued doing so until the pleasure got mixed with Sirius’ scent, until your clit was swollen and pulsing and your panties so wet they slid up and down your cunt without any effort at all. Soon you felt orgasm building in your body, you bit onto the shirt and moaned your way through ecstasy and shaking knees. That goddamned boy.

***

You weren’t sleeping at night, you were wondering how to finally get some time alone with Sirius, and nothing, absolutely nothing was coming to your head. Your mom would surely be more careful with leaving you two alone and it was already the night before Christmas, which meant only two days more at your house, since you were going back to Hogwarts for New Year’s Eve to spend it with the rest of your friends.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the soft knocking on your door. Sure it was your mom you got up and, yawning, opened the door, almost screaming when you saw a black dog. Your heart skipped the beat and the dog silently walked into your room.

“Sirius! You almost scared me to death!” You whispered, trying to calm yourself down as he turned back to his human form in all of his naked glory.

“Was hopin’ you would forgive me that,” he smirked as he slowly walked to you, who were unable to move, absolutely struck. “Your parents really have light sleep, but I figured I am much more silent as a dog.” He caught your chin in two fingers and forced you to look up into his face. “But we have to be very quiet which I know you are not too good at.”

“I’ll be quiet, I promise,” you gasped as he leaned down for a kiss.

“It also means we have to be quick.”

“I don’t need foreplay.”

He smirked again. “Great,” he laughed silently and slid down your pajama pants “because you’re not getting any.”

He lifted you up and placed you on your bed, hovering over you. His big hands pushed onto your thighs to spread your legs wide and for a second he admired your glistening pussy, still a little swollen from your previous fun. He looked at your blushed face with a wide smile. Oh, he knew what you were doing earlier.

He lined his cock with your entrance. You expected him to slid into you little by little, as usual, to give you time to adjust, but he was needy. He thrusted into you whole at once, making you gasp. You quickly covered your mouth with your hand, sudden feeling of being so marvelously full almost made you come on the spot. He pulled out almost entirely only to slam back into you, then again, and again, and again until he found the rhythm that would be hard enough for both of you and not make the bed hit the wall each time.

His hands were pressing on your thighs, spreading them wider with every thrust, but it was he pillow that you placed under your lower back that made him reach deeper, in a better angle that made you both shiver. He quickened slightly, his hair a beautiful mess as you reached to pull it, so you could kiss him on his sweaty cupid’s bow. Your other hand was between your bodies, rubbing circles on your clit, bringing you closer and closer to the edge, close enough to come. When you saw sparkles in his eyes you knew he was close, too.

“Fuck,” he panted. “Fuck, Y/N… Can I cum in you?”

He’s never done it before and the thought made you excited. You were safe thanks to magic and the idea of his cum spilling deep inside of you was enough to make you come immediately.

“Yes! Fuck, cum in me, Sirius!” You moaned, his hand quickly covered your mouth.

A few fast thrusts helped you ride down your orgasm, but then you felt it. The hotness of his cum as it shot into you and uncontrolled spasms made you come again, this time even harder, hard enough to make you bite your lower lip to blood.

Sirius, panting, slid out of you and lied down next to you. As you felt his semen flowing down your thighs you heard your clock make a silent sound that meant it was midnight.

“Merry Christmas, Sirius,” you whispered and gently kissed his bare arm.

He smiled as he looked at you.

“Merry Christmas, love.”

[redgillan]

Under Pastel Skies - 6

Sugar daddy!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Modern!AU Bucky doesn’t need anyone, especially not a sugar baby. He isn’t that desperate… but she smiles so sweetly and she’s endearingly awkward, and he’s so lonely. She’s an artist, a painter, the type of person who always puts others before herself. Throwing caution to the wind Bucky offers her a place to live, a place where she can finally paint whatever her heart desires. He doesn’t need much in return; a friend, a muse.

Word Count: 4,327

Warnings: panic attacks, Bucky recalls his accident

A/N: I don’t have much to say, Bucky’s real emotional in this one. I hope you enjoy this chapter :’) 

Wannabe sugar daddies don’t interact, idc if you have money, eat it and leave me be.

Everywhere Bucky looked his eyes and ears were assaulted by a cacophony of sounds and colours. Red and green baubles hung from the ceiling, shimmering like disco balls and sending sparkles around the mall.

The air smelled like pine and cinnamon, something he usually liked, but it was so pungent and unpleasant that it made his stomach churn and bile rise up his throat. He tried to breathe through his mouth, forcing oxygen into his lungs.

Flashes of silver and gold momentarily blinded him, and as someone walked past him, their shopping bag knocked against his leg. It didn’t hurt but it made him seethe with misplaced anger. Beads of sweat broke out on the back of his neck.

Christmas carols played over the mall speakers, more specifically Jingle Bells which they played three times in less than an hour. Enough, enough, enough. He was suffocating, unable to breathe. He felt too big for his own skin, he needed to escape.

Then he felt your hand at the small of his back, guiding him toward what looked like a furniture store. He followed blindly, his vision blurry and unfocused, and sat down when you gently pushed him down onto a sofa.

Bucky shut his eyes and let his head fall back against the cushion. A woman came up and asked if you needed help but you told her that everything was fine. The buzzing in his ears made the voices around him strangely soothing, as if he was underwater. Now that he was sitting down, he felt a lot better.  

You didn’t try to touch him, something he was very grateful for. He could feel your weight shift next to him and knowing you were there was enough. He focused on you –your heat, your voice, the smell of your shampoo- and his breathing slowly returned to normal.

“Sorry,” he breathed out with a small smile, his head lolling to one side to look at you. “I ruined our shopping spree.”

The fear and panic had dissipated, leaving him cold, exhausted and craving skin to skin contact. He took your hand and linked your fingers together. Your hands were freezing cold.

“You didn’t ruin anything.”

He snorted. “Yeah, I did.” A sad smile curved his lips, he needed to change the subject. “Do you celebrate Christmas?”

You sank further into the sofa cushion sitting shoulder to shoulder, hand in hand.

“We celebrated so many different holidays,” you said. “Perks of growing up in a multicultural family. Christmas was wild though. One tree, five kids. That poor thing never stood a chance. Now I don’t really celebrate anything. December used to be so much fun, now it’s just not the same.”

“We should create our own holiday,” Bucky suggested, squeezing your hand.

“Aren’t you going to see your family?”

“Nah,” he replied with a yawn. “My sister is taking her kids somewhere warm, and my parents are traveling the country in their RV. You can invite your siblings if you want.”

“They’re not available.”

Bucky tried to decipher the expression on your face. Every time you talked about your siblings, you had a faraway look in your eyes, as though you were reliving a memory. He couldn’t tell what you were thinking but your face twisted into a painful grimace. Then suddenly it was gone.

“I want a tree.”

He watched you with a lazy smile. “I’ll get you a tree.”

You pulled him up to his feet and decided it was time to go home. Home. It still made Bucky weirdly warm inside when you called his apartment ‘home’. You crossed the mall, your arm looped through his as you walked, and took a cab to Brooklyn.

He almost fell asleep from the gentle rocking of the car moving through the streets of Manhattan. When he glanced at you, you were looking out your window watching the snow fall.

You’d been living together for almost two months now and Bucky couldn’t have picked a better roommate. He liked the way you sang in the shower, loud, cheerful and most definitely off-key. He liked that you had more pyjamas than every day clothes. He liked watching you paint from the living room, and it always made him laugh when you added weird things to his grocery list.

He could go to bed and sleep the whole night without waking up, feeling safer knowing someone else was there. Of course, not everything was perfect but it was close enough.

He woke up on the sofa a few hours later, still dressed and with a fluffy blanket thrown over him. The sun was setting, painting the sky with reds and oranges. He basked in the setting sun, a content smile on his face, before he sat up.

The TV was on, the volume low, and you were sitting cross-legged on the floor between the sofa and the coffee table going through a bunch of old photographs. Bucky looked around the room, taking in the new furniture and decor.

There was a comfortable armchair in front of the gas burning fireplace. Your book was resting on the seat of the armchair. You had also bought a lot of decorative pillows, some were pretty funny like the one that looked like a giant cookie.

“Whatcha doing?” he asked, his voice gruff with sleep.

You looked over your shoulder at him. “Hey, you’re awake! I bought some picture frames. I thought it’d make this place look less like a high end furniture store.”

“I liked it better when you thought this apartment was amazing.”

You laughed. “I still do, but it’s a bit... soulless.” You tilted your head back, looking at him upside down. “Sorry.”

“Gotta call a spade a spade,” he said, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “All right, well, while you do that I’m going to start dinner.”

He pushed off the sofa but you caught his wrist before he could leave. “I’m already done. I’ve left some frames for you.”

“I already have lots of pictures upstairs.”

“I know, but no one ever goes upstairs,” you replied, letting go of his wrist. “And you’re not in any of the photos.”

Bucky’s eyes were drawn to the picture you were holding. It must have been taken on the day of your high school graduation, you were dressed in a cap and gown, smiling with your whole face. He’d never seen you smile like that. He recognized Peggy Carter right away, her hair was more silver-white than brown and there were deep wrinkles around her eyes.

Your mom wasn’t looking at the camera, she was scolding the young man who was giving you bunny ears. The man was grinning mischievously at the camera. Bucky couldn’t tell how old he was, he appeared to be either twenty or fifty.

There were two other women wearing sundresses, one had long brown hair, the other had twisted her hair into Bantu knots. A young man with dyed silver hair and dark roots was squatting in front of you, his arms crossed over his chest à la Backstreet Boys.

“You should frame this one,” he said, sitting on the floor next to you.

You shrugged. “I don’t know. It makes me kinda sad.”

Bucky learned not to dwell on the past. It hadn’t been easy but it would have been impossible to heal without the support of his friends and family. Grief manifests itself in a number of ways, it’s raw and complex, and comes from your soul. 

Bucky had a deep love for his childhood, especially his college years, but while he would cherish this time forever, he had accepted that he was a different person. He wasn’t the same naïve, youthful man he used to be, and it wasn’t a bad thing.

But he also knew that some people live in the past. It makes them feel alive.

“Y’know,” he started, meeting your eyes with a smile. “My hair used to be pretty long. I think I still have some photos in a folder somewhere.”

You clasped your hands together in a silent prayer. “Bucky, I’m going to be honest with you,” you deadpanned. “I need to see those pictures. I need them now. It’s a matter of life and death.”

He rolled his eyes while he got to his feet. “You’re so dramatic. I’ll go get ‘em.”

Bucky took the stairs up to his office and came back a few minutes later with a laptop under his arm. He sat on the floor next to you and set the laptop on his lap.

“You promise you won’t make fun of me?”

“Absolutely,” you replied, mimicking a Cheshire cat grin.

He sighed and tried to look stern but it was nearly impossible. You were too lovely, and he couldn’t help but smile. He opened up the laptop and glanced at you from the corner of his eye; you were practically vibrating.

He started going through the photos when he found one of himself at a party. He was in his early twenties, slumped in a chair, his eyes glassy and unfocused. In the next one he had been joined by two equally drunk women, and he was now roaring at the camera.

“Early twenties, two arms, and not a care in the world,” he said with a little sigh.

You leaned forward, your elbow resting on the coffee table. “Looks like you were having fun.”

“College was a lot of fun,” Bucky said, grinning to himself.

“What was your major?”

“English,” he replied. “I was a really good student, I could have chosen anything but there were more girls studying literature so I enrolled as an English major.”

“Wait!” You recoiled as if you had misheard him. “Did you really choose English because there were more girls?”

He made a funny grimace, and his nose scrunched up a bit as he mulled it over. “Yeah... my priorities were a bit mixed up. Hormones and all.”

You lowered your face into your hand and laughed. When you looked up at him, he was sporting his boyish grin and you shook your head at him.

In the next picture, he was clad in a black university graduation gown standing next to a blond man also dressed in a black gown. They were smiling, sunglasses perched on their nose.

“When I graduated, I had no idea what to do with a BA in English,” Bucky said after taking a long look at the photo. “The thing is, I never found my life’s calling. In high school I didn’t know what job I wanted to do, or what really motivated me, and to be honest I never really thought about it. I figured I’d find my passion in college but...” he trailed off with a shrug. “You’re lucky to have found your passion.”

“Is that why you want to help me?” you asked. “Because I found my calling and I wasn’t pursuing it.”

He tilted his head to one side, considering. “Yes, I guess that’s part of the reason why I want to help you.” He took a shuddering breath.

“Turns out I wasn’t the only one struggling to keep my head above water.” He pressed his index finger to the computer screen. “This is Steve, my oldest friend. He had just started working as a professional freelance photographer. I had nothing to do so I decided to help him build his portfolio. You’re an artist, I’m sure you know that a portfolio will make or break you.”

“It shows what you’ve accomplished, the skills you mastered,” you said, nodding. “Your potential employers will want to see your portfolio.”

“Exactly, and you have to show them your best work. In Steve’s case, it meant taking risks. No matter how talented you are, no one’s gonna pay you for a shot of the Brooklyn Bridge. It’s gorgeous but it’s not rare.”

“So what did he do?”

“We decided to climb Mount Everest.” He mechanically rubbed his stump and your eyes followed his movement. “It might’ve been the dumbest idea we’ve ever had but it sort of made sense at the time. Steve needed a challenging project and I was trying to find my purpose. We trained for a year, put money aside and took a loan. We were young, we thought we were invincible.

“The thing is,” he continued, “Mount Everest is the most famous mountain in the world. It’s crowded and only half the climbers reach the summit. A lot of people die.” He took a small pause. “Sometimes they can’t remove their bodies and they become landmarks. Our Sherpa told us about this man, they call him Green Boots. He’s sort of curled up in a fetal position near what they call Green Boots’ cave. When you walk past him, it looks like he’s just sleeping and because it’s so cold out there he’s actually well-preserved.”

“Oh, God.”

“Yeah, it’s awful,” Bucky let out a small, humourless laugh. “When I fell, I dislocated my arm and it pinched my axillary artery completely closed. It cut off circulation. That’s why they had to amputate. I was just lying there, too weak to call for help, watching people walk past me. They thought I was dead. And I remember thinking, ‘I’m going to die here. I’m going to die here and people will refer to me as Blue Jacket.’ Then Steve and the Sherpa found me, and Steve carried me on his back until they found a shelter. When the rescue team arrived, it was too late to save my arm.”

He went through the photos in silence and glared at the screen without really seeing it, his mind far away. On the screen, there was an endless stream of blurry smiles and blue eyes but he couldn’t look away. His thoughts cleared up when he felt the back of your knuckles along his cheek and jaw.

He unclenched his teeth, feeling the pain in his jaw. You brushed your fingers through his hair, pushing it off his forehead. You mindlessly played with the curl on top of his head and raked your fingernails gently over his scalp. When you spoke, your voice was just a soft whisper.

“Come back to me.”

Bucky forced his eyes shut and swallowed past the lump in his throat, tears pooling on his lower lashes. He took a deep breath and released it slowly. After a moment, he felt his body beginning to relax.

“How do you do that?” he asked in a pleading voice, turning his head to look at you. “How do you quiet the noise in my head?”

The question caught you off guard but you recovered quickly. You took his arm and draped it over your shoulders. “I don’t know,” you said, snuggling into his side. “It’s your second panic attack today. Did I push you too hard?”

“No.” His response was immediate. “I don’t like winter. It’s freezing cold and it gets dark at three thirty. Not my favorite time of the year.”

“But this helps, right?” you asked, waving your hand back and forth in the space between you.

He chuckled. “Yeah, it helps a lot.”

“Good.” You snuggled a little closer.

“But since you’re hoarding my arm, you’re gonna have to go through the pictures yourself,” he added, grinning down at you.

“Sorry,” you laughed. You reached out and slid two fingers over the touchpad guiding the cursor over the arrow icon. “So where are those pictures of you with long hair, uh?”

He knew you were trying to distract him but still made him blush. Those photos were in a folder titled: recovery spring 2010. He gave you directions to find it and waited for your reaction, wondering if you would burst into laughter at the sight of him with long hair and a lot more weight on.

“Wow.”

Bucky turned his attention to the screen to see which one had caught your interest. It was a selfie Steve had taken one sunny afternoon after he had forced Bucky to go out with him and Sam. They were sitting outside drinking iced tea.

Steve’s smile was blinding. He was wearing that stupid baseball cap he loved so much. Bucky sat hunched over in his seat behind Steve, his smile small but genuine. It was the kind of smile that said ‘my friends forced me to join them but I’m secretly glad they did’. Sam was leaning sideways against Bucky, his eyes hidden behind a pair of sunglasses.

“You look like a completely different person,” you said. “So... strong.”

“Hey!” he gasped in mock offense. “How dare you? I’m still strong.” He removed his arm from behind your shoulders and raised it to flex his biceps. “Look at that!”

With a roll of your eyes, you let your hand roam over his muscular arm slightly squeezing his biceps. “Okay, I’m impressed.”

“Ah! Thank you,” he said with a pleased smile. “Now, c’mon, s’ time to eat.”

Bucky got to his feet and extended his hand to help you up. You trailed behind him as you walked toward the kitchen. “I bet Steve could rip a log in half with his bare hands.”

“I’ll ask him.”

“Where is he?”

“Hard to say. He works for National Geographic now. I think he’s supposed to be in Siberia.”

You spent the next few days like tourists. You showed Bucky your favourite museums, stayed way too long in front of several artworks but he never complained. Bucky took you to the movies. You sat together in the dark for several hours watching foreign films, and you only fell asleep once. Then the two of you would walk around Manhattan speaking in a made-up language and pretending to be characters in a movie.

Bucky couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so carefree. A little voice in the back of his head kept repeating ‘enjoy it while it lasts’ but he chose to ignore it.

“Thanks for helping me with this,” Bucky said, gesturing at the tree in the living room. “She went to the store to buy some ornaments.”

He handed Sam a bottle of beer which he took with a smile before tipping it to his lips for a long drink. Bucky hit his beer bottle on the counter to uncap it and followed Sam into the living room.

“She’s excited, uh,” Sam said with a grin. “You guys are spending Christmas together?”

“Liss,” Bucky replied after taking a swig of beer. “We’re celebrating Liss this year.”

“’The hell is that?”

Bucky shrugged. “It’s an old word. It means comfort, happiness.” A respite from pain. “We decided to make our own holiday. We’re going to spend two days in our fanciest loungewear, eating junk food and playing board games.”

“Cute,” Sam drawled out. “When’s the wedding?”

“Don’t say that.” Bucky glared at him. “Why do you always do that? I finally feel at peace with myself. I’m happy, I’m ready to take on new challenges. Why do you always have to make fun of me?”

Sam’s eyes widened at this. “Woah, I’m joking. It’s what we do. You tease me, I tease you. C’mon, I know things have been hard for you. I’m proud of you,” he rushed to say, afraid he might have hurt his friend’s feelings, but then he caught Bucky’s barely concealed smirk behind his beer bottle. “You’re messing with me.”

“Of course, man. Can you say ‘I’m proud of you’ again? Wanna make it my ringtone.”

“Screw you.” They sipped their beer in silence, each deep in thought. “But you like her, right?”

Bucky twirled the neck of the bottle between two fingers. “I do, she’s nice.”

Sam shook his head like he was frustrated with the answer “That’s not what I mean, and you know it. Don’t bullshit me.”

“I’m not in love with her, Sam.”

“I never said anything about being in love.” He was silent for a moment before he added, “Beside there’s an entire world between like and love.”

Bucky caught a glimpse of hurt and fear in the depths of Sam’s eyes. He reminded him of Steve: strong yet vulnerable, generous and righteous. Bucky had a feeling Sam wasn’t talking about you.

“Is this about Natasha?”

Sam hung his head and stared at the beer bottle he rolled between his hands. “Sometimes I feel like it was inevitable. These sugar daddy relationships are complicated; at first it’s fun and easy, we both get what we want.” He took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders. “And then it changes, so fast you barely see it coming, and it becomes the only thing you look forward to.” He took another swig of beer.

“These few hours with her mean more to me than anything else in this goddamn world. But it’s not real, none of this is real.”

“How do you know it’s not real?” Bucky asked, swallowing past the lump in his throat.

“I pay her.” Sam gave him a sad smile. “She spends time with me because I pay her. Sex wasn’t part of our deal but it came naturally. It’s going to end, one way or another. And If my time with her is limited, why make things complicated, y’see?”

An uneasy feeling gnawed at Bucky’s stomach, taunting him, trying to make him see something he wasn’t ready to see yet. “What if she feels the same way ‘bout you?”

“I don’t know,” Sam sighed. “To know that I’d have to talk to her, and I’d rather not take my chances. I’m happy with the way things are right now. It hurts, but I’m okay.” He leaned back and made himself comfortable. “You gotta be careful, Bucky. I see the way you look at your angel. You’re skating on thin fucking ice.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Like, love,” Sam said, weighing the two words. “And everything in between.”

They mulled over Sam’s words while they finished their beer. A million thoughts raged through Bucky’s head, circling around like wasps, buzzing and annoying. He was relieved when he heard the front door open.

“Italian leather loafers, mmh is Sam here?” you called out from the kitchen where you set your shopping bag down on the table before you joined them in the living room. “Hey guys! What’s the matter? You both look like someone kicked your puppy-OH MY GOD! LOOK AT THAT TREE!”

While you ran across the living room, Sam cast Bucky a look. The message was clear; be careful. They got to their feet and acted like nothing happened. Sam put on his coat and gave you a quick hug before he left.

Bucky was silent while you were decorating the tree. He let you decide where you wanted to put the tinsel and baubles. He just sat there with a vacant look in his eyes, handing baubles. A smile curled his lips when you cupped his cheek and ran the pad of your thumb along his cheekbone. He looked up at you.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” Bucky said with a small smile. “Just old and moody.”

You laughed. “Come here, help me with this. It’s actually super boring when no one’s fighting for the baubles.”

“Oh, you wanna fight, angel,” he said with a smirk while he played with a tinsel garland. “Ok, let’s fight.”

You took a step back. “I’ve changed my mind.”

“Too late!”

You shrieked when he launched himself at you. He wrapped the tinsel garland around you, loosely pinning your arms to your sides. You laughed so hard your eyes watered and your shoulders shook. He used it to his advantage and looped two baubles over your ears like giant earrings.

Still laughing, you tugged one of your hands free and threw a handful of tinsel all over Bucky before you ran away. He chased you around the living room, using one of the fairy lights as a lasso.  

Soon, the living room was a giant mess. There was more tinsel in Bucky’s hair than on the tree, and you had managed to wrap the fairy lights around his body. You look pretty ridiculous with your giant earrings and dishevelled hair.

You and Bucky collapsed on the floor, out of breath and euphoric. The sun was starting to set behind the skyscrapers casting a warm golden glow over the room. You turned on the fairy lights and burst out laughing when Bucky sparkled like a tree.

He found his phone on the sofa and handed it to you. You opened up the camera app and nestled closer to him. The first photo was blurry because you couldn’t stop laughing. Bucky thought the second photo was nice but you didn’t like it.

“My smile is too wild,” you said.

“You look beautiful,” he argued. “I look like a Christmas tree.”

Bucky felt a pleasant stir in his belly when you placed your head on his shoulder. Be careful. He could practically hear Sam’s voice in his head. His chest was hurting. It wasn’t unpleasant, just peculiar and unexpected. He closed his eyes and rested his cheek on top of your head.

“Bucky! You have to open your eyes,” you scolded him after looking at the picture, unaware of his inner turmoil.

He wasn’t sure he could; tears were welling up in his eyes. He was terrified of his feelings for you, but his body was screaming at him to stop burying his head in the sand. He didn’t want you to see the tears in his eyes, he didn’t want to alarm you, because the truth was, he hadn’t been careful.

“Can’t. I’m comfy,” he replied, masking his true feelings behind a joke.

“Open them or I’ll tickle you.”

He chuckled. “Okay, okay, no need to use force.”

He soldiered on and opened his eyes, smiling at the camera. He liked you, and he promised himself he would never tell you. His feelings didn’t matter, it wasn’t part of your deal.

Part 7

[girlgrouptrash101]

Jennie (Blackpink) - Christmas Cookies

Request: “could i request a fluffy Jennie prompt where her and her s/o are baking cookies for christmas?”

Word Count: 1,322 Words

Warnings: beware, fluff ahead o_o

A/N: merry christmas eve everyone!!

- C

You threw the necessities into your shopping trolley, ticking your groceries off your list as you went. Your basket was slowly filling up as you strolled down each aisle, listening to the Christmas songs they had on repeat coming from the shop's sound system. Your girlfriend, Jennie had scurried off to an unknown part of the shop, probably picking out some treats for you to share tonight. Your shopping trance was broken when Jennie herself came scurrying around the corner of the shelves, her arms full of assorted bags and packets, and a gummy smile on her face.

"New plans for tonight babe, we’re making cookies!" She exclaimed excitedly, throwing everything in the basket and giggling, her eyes turning into crescents. Her excitement was so adorable that you immediately said yes, not wanting her happy mood to dissipate. She ran around to the front of the trolley, ducking down under your arm so that you were pushing the trolley with Jennie in front of you, your arms surrounding her. She stood on the edge of the trolley as you pushed, feeling like a kid all over again as you whizzed around corners and down aisles. Jennie couldn’t help but scream and laugh as you went, her stern facade always breaking down whenever she was with you. 

“That’ll be €37.60 when you’re ready please.” The cashier chirped. You nodded and took out your money, paying the total while Jennie bagged up the last of your goods. Wishing the cashier a merry Christmas you grabbed a shopping bag in one hand and held Jennie’s hand in the other. Your apartment wasn’t too far from the shop so you’d decided to walk, wrapping up in your winter coats and woolly hats to keep your warm from the bitter Christmas frost that had settled around Seoul.

Your feet crunched against the pavement as you squeezed Jennie’s hand softly, looking up to see her already smiling at you. She leaned in closer as you wrapped her hand around her shoulder, pulling her into your side as you neared your apartment block. Kissing her temple softly, you pulled back as she opened the door for you and followed you inside into the warmth of the building’s lobby. Your girlfriend skipped over to the lift built into the wall, pushing the magic button that would bring you to your apartment, safe and sound.

You’d no sooner stepped into your home before Jennie was scurrying off to the kitchen, probably pulling out those matching aprons she’d bought for you both last year. You followed her in, unloading your shopping bag onto the counter and putting away anything you didn’t need for your cookies. You felt your girlfriend behind you as she looped the apron over your head, before her hands came around your waist to tie a knot at the back of the fabric, securing it around your waist. She leaned forward as she worked, pressing a kiss to the back of your neck before stepping away.

-

With your ingredients, a trusty recipe and a few small messes later, you and Jennie had successfully whipped up the cookie dough needed to make your tasty treats. Your girlfriend was trying her hardest to lay the mix out onto a baking tray in somewhat of a cookie shape, her tongue poking out with concentration. You giggled at her focused appearance, snapping Jennie out of her cookie induced stupor. She grinned up at you, flicking her spatula and laughing when some of the cookie dough landed right on your face. You furrowed your brows in playful anger, the smile on your lips already giving your true feelings away.

“So, Jennie Kim, that’s how you wanna play is it?” You asked, grinning as you picked up a handful of flour. Her eyes widened and her smile dropped as you raised your hand, launching the powder all over your girlfriend. Your sides hurt as she screamed, now covered head to toe in flour. Her shock lasted mere seconds as she joined you, giggling hard at her own  appearance.

While you were still laughing at Jennie, she decided to use the distraction to her advantage, flicking more cookie dough onto your face and into your hair. Your food fight escalated as the both of you were howling with laughter, tears streaming down your face as you looked at the state of each other. 

“Y/N, baby, stop I- I can’t breathe!” Jennie exclaimed through her laughter, putting down her spatula and backing away with her hands up in a mock surrender. You nodded in agreement, wiping your eyes and trying to regain your breath. Jennie walked over to you, wrapping her arms around your waist and burying her head into your shoulder. She mumbled something softly against your shoulder, your ears straining to pick it up.

“What was that?”

“I said thank you,” Jennie repeated, leaning up to kiss your cheek softly.

“Thank you? For covering you in flour?” You questioned, laughing a little at the amount of white powder caked all over her head.

“No, baby, I mean thank you. Thank you for spending Christmas with me, and thank you for being you. No matter what happens at work, in front of the fans, no matter what people say about me… I just know you’re there for me, supporting and loving me no matter what. Thank you for making me feel safe. I love you, so much.” She finished, looking up to meet your eyes. You took her face in your hands, leaning down to kiss her softly. As your lips met hers, you did your best to convey all the emotions she had stirred up inside you.

“I want to thank you then, Jennie. You’re the best girlfriend I could’ve ever wished for, and I’m so thankful for the love you show me every single day. My life would never be the same without you.” You finished, Jennie leaning up to kiss you again. You both stood there for a while in a tight embrace, enjoying the warmth inside your apartment as you watched the snow fall outside the window, until your girlfriend finally broke the silence.

“Should we get cleaned up then?”

-

An hour later, showered and refreshed, the two of you were snuggled up together on the couch in your Christmas pyjamas. You had put on Jennie’s favourite Christmas movie - “Elf” - and she was living for it. With her mouth stuffed full of cookies, you laughed lightly as she belted out the song the main characters were singing. Her eyes lit up at her favourite parts of the movie, and she was ever so invested in it, even though it’s the same one she’s watched every Christmas since it had been released. Your head rested on top of Jennie’s as she cuddled into your side, offering you every second cookie from her plate.

As the movie was coming to a close and the plate of cookies had been emptied, you noticed the stillness of your girlfriend and realised that she’d drifted off to sleep. Slowly pulling away from her, you turned off the television and took the empty plate from Jennie’s lap. You turned around slowly, looking at your sleeping beauty on the couch, already falling to one side since you’d moved away from her. Laughing softly, you bent down, wrapping your arm under her legs and holding her back with the other, carrying her bridal style towards your bedroom. 

You laid her sleeping figure down gently, pulling the duvet softly over her to keep her warm. Only going back out to turn off the lights and lock up, it wasn’t long before you too were tucked underneath the warm duvet, your arms wrapped around Jennie as she snuggled into you. You kissed her temple softly, before closing your eyes and drifting off into a peaceful slumber, completely at ease with the love of your life wrapped safely in your arms.