#12 deals of xmas | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

toxicanonymity · 10 months

Text

ring doorbell 🚪

5400 words, stepdad!Joel x f!reader

stepdad master

Summary: Joel holds it together at a Christmas party, only to show up at your apartment later. WARNINGS: I8+ stepcest, toxic fluff, f masturbation, party-typical alcohol, angst, reader dacryphilia, grinding, unsafe P in V INTERCOURSE FINALLY ❤️‍🔥 (he's clean, I tested him myself), pulling out (this time), big mess of cum. A/N: dedicated to @gracieispunk 🤍 (bc he's always been her #1) and all of stepdad's fans ✊💦

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Note: not a big deal but white elephant gift /party explanation if you don't know

This is the wk before Xmas week like 12/16/23 yes the whole fic is mildly in the future lmao the exorcist comes out this October.

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You still haven't snapchatted Joel back. After he sends nothing one day, you think about it a lot. You want to send him your own, but you can't decide what to send. You never used to overthink it, but after all this, whatever you send feels like a big deal. The next day, you're lounging on your bed thinking about it when you get a notification.

[Snapchat: J. has shared a photo with you]

You've gotten yourself off to Joel's snaps so many times that as soon as you get the notification, you're throbbing. You’re also relieved–after going a whole day with nothing from him, you were getting anxious. It's a rainy day and you're doing nothing, so you get out your silicone Joel but it’s dead. You change the batteries, silently thanking Joel for his foresight, and fold a towel under you. Before you open his Snapchat, you get yourself close with nothing but your imagination.

You imagine him showing up at your door, eyelids red, cheeks still wet with tears, unable to speak he's so desperate for you. Latching onto your lips as he barges into your apartment, hands cradling your head, pulling your face into his. Kissing you like he's starving. Taking off each other's clothes on the way to your room without a single word spoken until he's on your bed and rasps "I fuckin' need you right now" as he gets between your legs. Tangling your fingers in his hair as his bare chest hovers over yours and his cock hangs heavily onto your mound until he reaches down and puts it where you need it. His lips on yours again. His tongue pushing into your mouth as he pushes his cock into you. Your legs wrapping around him as your body swallows his length. Joel pounding into you, moaning that moan you've heard so many times now, his skin against yours, thrusting into you, approaching that moment where he'll give you the biggest load you could imagine.

At this point, you open the snap, and it's not what you expect.

Photo: Close-up selfie of his face and bare shoulders. His shoulders are so muscular and tan that it takes you a moment to realize his head is resting on your pillow, in your room (at their house). His eyes are large and his brow is furrowed. He looks tired. Caption: Hope this is okay.

A lewd snap could follow any minute, but the first one makes you cum. Just the sight of his face, the face that would be right up against yours with that big, hard, beautiful cock finally inside you. Fuck. You keep staring at his face the whole time you cum. You almost kiss your fucking phone. This has gotten that out of hand. You leave it on read. It's sweet how he's being careful, almost timid. But at the same time, bold to go into your room. Hope this is ok. You fall asleep, and when you wake up, there's another photo from him, just four minutes earlier.

Photo (82 min after the first one): Close-up selfie on his side, hair is tousled. Arm looking huge. Eyes weak. Hugging one of your pillows. The corner is covering his chin and mouth. Caption: Good nap.

He just wanted to take a nap in your room? Your heart flutters, which is a little uncomfortable, like it's easier when he's just nasty. But you can't deny you like this sweet side of him. He doesn't know it, but you basically just took a nap together.

—------

The next morning, Joel sends another Snapchat.

Video: He's in your bed again, laying on his side shirtless with strong shoulders, muscle cleavage, and sleepy eyes as if he slept there all night. His voice is hushed. "Mornin', beautiful” (he yawns) “So about tonight . . .I'm not gonna make it weird, ok? I'll act normal."

Video (less than a minute later): He's in the same position but holding his phone further out and at an angle and your covers are pulled down so you can see a lot more of his torso. He says, "Hope you're still comin'."

Later that day

Photo: Mirror selfie in a red and white fair isle sweater and a mostly straight face but his eyes are a little sad. Caption: See? Normal.

There's a family Christmas party, and you're anxious despite Joel's assurances. Can you act normal? You haven't tried in person since that night with Jacques. If Joel is finally as willing as he seems, for some reason, that makes you nervous. For months now, you've been trying to break him down, often thinking it might never happen. Even with his dick pressed right up against your leggings on Thanksgiving, it felt far away. Now after weeks of no physical contact, it feels closer than ever. And as much as you wanna make your move on Mr. Cant-believe-he-ever-turned-you-down, you're unexpectedly anxious.

—------

When you get to your cousin's house, both Joel’s SUV and your Mom's car are there. A small mob greets you at the door. One of your aunts takes your white elephant gift off your hands. Joel is nearby, quietly sipping a drink. Looking over another aunt's shoulder as she hugs you, you can see how the sweater hugs Joel's biceps and has polar bears in the pattern. Does he have to be so cute? As you finish hugging them hello, Joel puts down his drink and tacks himself onto the end of the hug train.

He looks you in the eye with a subtle smile – sad but hopeful. He lifts both his arms, meaning this is a full hug and your arms will go around his waist. As you get closer, his scent hits you and you have to physically stop your eyes from closing in pleasure as you inhale through your nose. When you first touch, there's a literal spark. Static electricity. You gasp and he chuckles. Not to be deterred, his scruff brushes your cheek as his big arms wrap around you and squeeze. This brief moment might be the coziest you've felt all winter. You loosely embrace his waist, and when you pull back, he lets you go. You share a loaded glance, his eyes falling to your mouth as he wets his lips. An aunt comes to beckon you to the kitchen.

When you glance back over your shoulder, Joel adjusts his glasses and awkwardly hovers near the door. He’s wearing khakis, and his sweater is bunched up above his ass. Your aunt turns to say something to you and you whip your head back around and say "sorry."

In the kitchen, your Mom says she feels like she hasn’t seen you in forever. “Sorry I didn’t get to meet Jacques. Joel said I just missed him.” Joel comes and stands in the door frame, drinking out of his solo cup.

“That was weeks ago,” you say, not feigning warmth.

She asks if Jacques is still in the picture, and you shake your head no. When you glance at Joel, he looks about as satisfied as you expect. He helps change the subject by asking your uncle about golf.

One of the kids yells from the other room, "Uncle Joel! play Mario Kart with us!" And Joel leaves.

You overhear Joel say, "No cryin' when I beat ya this time."

Followed by an outraged, "YOU DIDN'T BEAT ME!"

Then Joel says, "Oww!"

—------

About an hour and a half later, you go outside alone to the deck for some air. The yard is dark. There's a trampoline and a treehouse. You’re leaning back against the wood railing, facing the house. A lot of the adults are drunk now and the kids are being put to bed. You want to leave, but the white elephant exchange hasn’t happened and you don’t need everyone asking after you, wondering what happened, whether you’re okay. You’d rather serve the time at the party. Preferably without being social.

You figure no one will notice if you go up into the treehouse meanwhile. You climb up and use your phone light. There’s a lantern up there. You turn it on. There are papers scattered on the floor with crayon drawings of monsters and people including a stick figure with what appears to be a huge dick pointing straight toward the ground and he's urinating on a crowd of smaller stick people. On another sheet, there’s a snowman with stick people for arms and they don’t look happy.

The treehouse smells like cedar chips and melted crayons. You can hear the murmur of the party which grows louder as someone opens the door. You sit and scroll your phone, confident no one saw you go up there. You think about snapchatting or texting Joel but wouldn’t want anyone to see it if he’s too drunk to be discreet.

—--

A twig snaps in the yard. A few seconds later, the ladder to the treehouse shakes under weighty footsteps and Joel appears in the little door frame.

"Thought I might find ya here." Fair enough–you weren’t anywhere else. He seems only a little tipsy. "It's almost white elephant time."

You look at each other in silence. His hair is messy. He’s so hot. You can't help but smile. He stays there in the doorframe with his big hands gripping the top of the ladder.

You break the silence with crude teasing about how he stopped sending you lewd snaps. "What happened yesterday, you didn't nut?"

He chuckles and looks down shyly. "Takin'' a break, I guess. And, uh. Wasn't sure you wanted that stuff.” He looks at you again. “Cause you never reply, so." It doesn’t sound like a complaint, it just sounds a little sad. “Guess I got in my head.”

You nod in understanding then rest your head against the wall again. “Guess I didn’t know what to say.”

He asks, "But you like it?"

You raise your eyebrows, impressed, and slowly nod. You say, "I guess practice makes perfect, 'cause damn." You take a deep breath and spread your legs, a symbolic gesture since you're wearing pants.

He groans softly, making you tingle. "Christ . .Don't get me hard while I'm on this fuckin' ladder."

You reach forward and extend your hand to bring him in and out of view of the door. His hand engulfs yours for balance, but he holds his own weight as he crouches into the small structure. Unable to stand, he gets down on his hands and knees and looks around and asks,"Think this thing is stable?"

"You're the expert."

He laughs, then it fades and you both seem to realize he's on all fours between your legs. He clears his throat and sits back on his heels. He looks at his watch.

"Do you, uh, wanna talk? We've got a minute."

You shake your head.

"I mean, we prolly should," he says softly, then clenches his jaw and his eyes seem to weaken when you break eye contact. Ugh, he's so hot and pitiful. You rise to your knees and knee-walk toward him. He lowers his voice, "But we don't have to talk . . .right now." When you've closed the short distance, you watch his eyes glisten and smell the egg nog on his breath. “Maybe later,” he says even softer. He swallows then cups your face in his hand and looks at your mouth.

After a final glance to your eyes, Joel softly presses his lips into yours and you meet him with the same softness. It makes you lightheaded. You’ve never kissed each other tenderly before, but it turns you on just as much as if he had ravished you. Because it’s real. He’s really into this, and he’s stayed into it for weeks without taking out any of his self loathing on you, IF he even still hates himself for this.

Joel's tongue brushes your lips, then you hear the sliding door to the house open in the distance. Your uncle yells "JOEL???" and you pull away. Joel pulls you back in for a few seconds with one hand behind your ear and another hand on your ass. His khakis press into your jeans and your heart jumps when you feel his cock begin to harden.

"JOEL! YOU FIND HER?"

You pull away again. He takes a deep breath, looks you over, and adjusts himself as he turns away. The uncle goes back inside. Joel exits the treehouse first then helps you down the ladder. As you brush off your knees and butt, he says, "shoulda told me you were comin' out here."

“Why?” you ask and he brushes himself off as well.

He hesitates and his face falls. “I dunno.” His eyes look more like his sad videos, like his cool facade is cracking. “I was lookin’ for ya.” His Adams Apple catches your eye as he swallows. He puts his massive hand on your back for a moment, ushering you toward the house.

—---

Your Mom gets too drunk and goes to sleep in a guest bedroom halfway through the white elephant game. Not the first time this has happened.

You're in a chair and Joel is sitting across the room on a sofa, manspreading. He rests his hand on his inner thigh and your breath hitches. You cross your legs, clench your thighs, and try not to stare, but you feel him looking at you from time to time.

Your cousin’s husband Barry opens the gift you brought. It’s a sweatshirt that says Cutie. He holds it up to himself and spins around for laughs. Joel glowers. Joel steals it when it's his turn and smiles when everyone laughs. No one steals it from Joel. At the end of the game, you hug everyone goodbye. Your hug with Joel is brief.

—----

In the middle of the night, your phone wakes you up with a Ring doorbell alert. It’s Joel. He’s wearing the stupid cutie sweatshirt. He adjusts his glasses. He rakes his hand into his hair and looks around in a way that makes you wonder if he might regret coming. You lie there for a minute or two watching the Ring feed, but he just stands there waiting. He braces his arm on the doorframe. His biceps stretch the sleeves. You turn your lamp on the dimmest setting and get out of bed.

You open the front door silently and he steps back as you open it. His eyes are a little red. He looks dead serious. He puts his hand back on the doorframe and the sweatshirt rides up enough to expose a sliver of skin. His Adam's Apple bobs and he asks hoarsely, “can I come in?”

You look around outside then step back and let him in.

“I can’t sleep,” he says as he walks into your dark kitchen. He shakes his head. “can’t sleep after seein’ you.” His eyes glisten. “Can we talk?”

You feel your heart rate rising and wonder if he can tell how nervous you are. You’d prefer to break the tension physically, but apparently he has something to say and you’re gonna have to hear it sooner or later. You turn and walk into your bedroom. You stack pillows and lie down face up. If he's not willing to get on your bed at this point, you're not sure if you wanna hear what he has to say after all.

At first, he stands at the foot of the bed with his hands behind his head, elbows bent forward in distress. Your eyes drift to his exposed happy trail and the way his joggers hug his groin. “I dunno what the hell’s wrong with me.” He looks toward your window and chokes back tears. Then he kneels on your bed. “You’re never gonna know how sorry I am.”

“Joel, I know,” you say softly. “C’mere.” You offer space next to you. Instead, he gets between your legs and your heart skips a beat. He lies face-down, with his feet hanging off the bed. His armpits rest on your upper thighs with his elbows and forearms on either side of your hips and torso. It turns you on of course, yet he doesn't seem to be making a move sexually.

“I am so, so sorry,” he says.

“I know,” you say again. “We can move on. I don't wanna keep talk–”

“But,” he says, then pauses and swallows. His eyes are big and watery. “I dunno if you get it. How sorry I am.” a tear rolls down his cheek. He wipes it and takes his glasses off. You reach out your hand to take them and put them on your nightstand. He whispers, “thanks,” as he dabs his eyes with his fingers which only sends the tears to his cheeks.

“I know you’re sorry, Joel, I get it.”

“No,” he shakes his head. “I don’t think you get-” He puts his face down on you for a second like he’s dabbing his cheeks on your PJs, then he lifts his head again. While choking back tears, he blurts out, “I’m SO fucked up over you." He blinks and looks away and another tear escapes his eye. "can't even fuckin' sleep except in your bed." He buries his face in your thin cotton PJs.

Now you’re turned all the way on. You take a deep breath as your ache for him deepens. When you don’t respond, he whispers, “I’m sorry,” then puts the other side of his face down on you, his mouth below your belly button. His tears are dampening your PJs. “I dunno why I’m here,” he mumbles into the bottom hem of your tank top. Your hips lift into his upper chest once, as though adjusting your position. He ignores it and continues, “FUCK, i’ve been tryin’ to give ya time.” He looks up at you. “Tried to act normal tonight.” He shakes his head and his brow furrows.

He presses his eyes into your tank top one by one to dry them without using his hands. “Then i show up in the middle of the fuckin’ night,” he laughs softly at how pathetic this is. It’s taking all your restraint not to rock your hips into him. You’re wet, so wet.

—-

“Stop. Just c’mere,” you say quietly and open your arms. You lift your hips again. He looks up at you and the distress on his face dissolves. As he crawls up your body, his big, sweet eyes begin to darken. He puts his forearms down on the bed on either side of your chest and your eyes connect for a moment. Your lips part.

“You’re so. . .fuck,” he sighs, then presses his lips into yours. Your mouth warmly accepts him. His lips move against yours and he licks into your mouth slowly at first, like he’s savoring every brush of his tongue against yours. Then it becomes needy at a sensual rhythm.

With your mouths still connected, he shifts his body. The warm bulge in his joggers meets your clothed heat, and then, oh god, his cock hardens against you. He softly hums, "mmm" as your mouths move together and he swells harder against you. You're throbbing, aching. For a second, you wonder if you're having a wet dream (you're not).

There's a different electricity between you now. You can both feel it – He breaks away for a moment and looks at you, breathing heavily, and you can see it in his eyes. He's not crying anymore. He looks at peace. He rests his weight on one arm, and his opposite hand slides onto your breast, slowly palming it as his lips move with yours and his growing arousal digs into you. It’s the first time you’ve had his whole body against yours. And fuck, he feels good. It’s the first time you’ve been on a bed together. That one time on your couch, he said it was dangerous being alone. This time, he's not stopping, not even slowing down.

He didn’t regret it last time you hooked up, but now there’s a different buzz inside you now. If he ends up regretting it this time, you could get hurt. His rejection never deterred you before, but this time, you feel like it could crush you. You're not even sure why, but you have to somehow acknowledge it before he puts his head between your legs, or whatever he has in mind.

“You’re sure you wanna. . . do stuff,” you begrudgingly say and inwardly shame yourself for the tremble in your voice.

“I’m so fuckin’ sure, sweetheart.”

—--

That's all you need, because you can feel it in his body, too. There’s no part of him that doesn’t want you. Your mouths embrace again and only come apart for heavy breaths and moans as your hips and lips move in rhythm. His cock grows even stiffer and his hand moves from your breast, down your side. His hands are so big and masculine, but gentle. There’s nothing hesitant about his movements. He grabs your thigh, and you bend your knee. He hikes up your leg and pushes himself harder against you where it counts.

He slides his hand down your thigh and into your soft sleep shorts, his fingers getting closer and closer to the pool of desire that's begging for him. When his fingertips reach your cunt, you arch your back and whine, pulling your lips away as your head tilts up toward the ceiling. His mouth comes to your breast and dampens your cotton tank top as he tongues your nipple through it.

"Fuck," you say between heavy breaths. You've never wanted anyone–or anything–so bad in your life. It's a need.

You run your hands over his hulking back, feeling the muscles flex on either side of his spine, and curl your fingers under the hem of his sweatshirt. He takes it off in a flash, his white t-shirt coming with it. He takes off your tank top, then his lips return to yours, his cock grinds into you, and you sigh.

He breaks the kiss and pauses. His tan shoulders look huge the way he's hovering there over you.

His voice is weak and hoarse. "Don't want ya to think I came here just to–"

"Shhhh," your hips lift and you moan at his hardness.

"Ohhh, God," he rolls his hips into yours and sighs your name. He dips his head and noses your neck, then murmurs into your skin, "didn't come here to fuck ya, baby." His scruff brushes your cheek on his way to look at you again.

"I know," you say. God, you need him so bad.

"Okay," he whispers, then covers your mouth with his again, kissing you hungrily.

Your lips break away, then you meet his eyes and tell him, "but that's what you're gonna do."

Joel reads your eyes for a moment, breathing heavily. Then he nods silently and a surge of arousal runs through you. "Yeah," he nods again. "I am."

You pull him down so his bare chest is against yours. He kisses you hard with a little bit of tooth, making your lips buzz and your nipples harden against him. He sucks your neck, and his rock-hard cock presses against your clit rhythmically. You throb violently. Then he whispers in your ear, "'m'gonna fuck ya, sweetheart," drawing a moan from you.

"Now," you beg. You lift your shoulder blades off the bed, pressing him up with your breasts and stomach. You reach around to his back and hook your thumbs into the waistband of his joggers.

"Yeah," he breathes. You tug down his joggers. He kicks out of them and you observe the massive tent in his boxers with a pang of need from your core through your heart. He urgently pulls off your sleep shorts, then says "fuck," and takes his boxers off, too.

You take a deep breath as you stroke your clit and spread yourself open for him. He moans softly at the sight of your fingers at your glistening cunt. He wets his lips as he reaches between your legs. His hand replaces yours, and he sharply inhales. He spreads your slick around your folds and gently rubs your clit. “Yeah,” he whispers. “Yeah, let’s go.”

He gets in position and hikes up your leg again. His head falls, putting his messy head of hair in your view. He watches himself align his cock with your entrance, and your breath hitches at the first touch of the smooth head of his cock. He begins to push inside with a moan, opening you up with his swollen tip. Your clit twitches. His hips push forward, giving you more of him, and his mouth falls open as he watches it happen. You both moan as his cock parts your insides. It’s happening smoothly, without effort, and the stretch is delicious.

Joel pries his gaze away from where your bodies are joined. He locks eyes with you, then plunges to the hilt and shudders as he bottoms out. God, the way his cock fills you up. His eyes glisten and his face looks like he’s in pain, but he’s not. You catch yourself holding your breath, and you exhale with a whimper. Joel stays all the way inside with his swollen balls against you and closes his eyes, his chest expanding with air. “Jesus, fuck,” he whispers. His chest is heaving. He opens his eyes and tries to speak. “You feel – god damn. . . you're. . .(a vocal sigh). . you–"

You cut him off by pulling him in for a kiss. He twitches inside you and you both moan.

After a moment, he slowly pulls his hips back, then pushes in again. "Mmmm" he moans into your mouth. All the times you’ve imagined this, you never counted on the contact of your bodies and faces together. You could never have dreamed how full you’d feel. Even after having him in your hand. In your mouth. This feeling is new for you. It’s like he’s shaped just for you. He pulls back, then bottoms out again and groans against your cheek. How is it already the best you’ve ever had? He retreats, then slides all the way in with a punch of his cock as he bottoms out.

"That okay?" he asks like he doesn't wanna hurt you.

You nod urgently, "Give it to me."

He thrusts into you harder, working up to about once per second, at first. Breathing heavily, grunting, moaning, vocalizing constantly in one way or another. He kisses your lips, sucks your neck, and lightly bites you as your cunt hugs his cock just right. He steals downward glances at your body and groans as he watches his glistening cock disappear into you again and again. He gradually ups the pace and intensity until you're whining.

"Fuck," he sighs, and you whimper. "Too much?"

"Don't hold back," you shake your head. "Don't you dare hold back."

"Oh, baby," he says, then slams into you with all his weight. You asked for it, but you're really not prepared for the other realm he sends you to. "Fuck MEee," he moans. He pounds into you, grunting each time he buries his cock in your dripping core. He snaps his hips and kisses you sloppily. Your mouths are half connected and half moaning into each other's cheeks.

You moan, “Jo–” but stop yourself.

“S'okay," he pants. "You can say it.”

“Fuck, I–”

“Say it, sweetheart”

“Joel,” you whine.

"Oh, Christ," he pants.

"Fuck, Joel, uggggh–your--"

"Oh, Fuck"

"Feel so–"

"Yeah," he breathes, slamming into you with his weight behind it. “Fuck, baby–yeahhh”.

You feel the pleasure building in your gut and core as he fucks you. Your sounds must seem increasingly distressed, and so do his. They tumble out of the back of his throat. The tension in your belly tightens. He lowers his chest against yours again. Your arms are around his neck and his forearms squeeze your sides. He manages to fuck you so deep and good, even while he's flat against you. His hips move like a mating animal.

It hits you like a ton of bricks: This is it. Every other man is ruined for you. How could anything compare? Your own eyes prickle with tears.

Joel tries a few times to say things, but every time it devolves into a moan or guttural sigh. He makes sounds you haven't heard before.

"Ohhh, fuck," he moans. "I dunno if I can–"

You open your eyes and the agonized look on his face puts you all the way on the edge. He must be close.

"Give it to me, Joel."

He pistons into you harder, all his muscles flexing. You whimper as your thighs tremble.

"C'mon, baby," he whispers, then he grunts. He growls, "Soak me, baby–ohh–Just fuckin'––nnngh"

You sigh vocally and start to clench around him. You moan his name, long and drawn out as pleasure seizes you.

You flutter around his cock and he gasps, "oh, fuck." You gush and groan, your hips lifting into him, mouth hanging open, breathing and whining at once.

He pants, "Fuck–(a low moan), I wanna fill–ohhhhh, god (heavy breaths). Sweetheart, i really wanna–ahh, shit." He bites his lips together, his cheeks puff out, and his neck vein flexes. You’re still cumming. He grunts from the back of his throat as he pulls out and slaps cock down on your mound. He presses his body against you so his cock rubs your still pulsing clit.

His cock is nestled between your bodies, and he’s grinding into you when he erupts massively with a shudder from deep in his chest. His pulsations drag yours out as his cum coats your mound and lower belly. He groans as he slowly, wetly grinds against you. He breathes and gasps for air, still cumming. His cock pulses so powerfully, a hot rope every couple of seconds.

With the movement of his hips and sliding of his cock, the warmth of his cum spreads around your skin, settling into your navel, and he’s still cumming. The obscene mess between you is sticky and growing. Then, even after his balls have emptied, he stays on top of you, hard cock pressed against you, empty pulsations waning for what feels like minutes. He's so warm and wet and hard. He lies there with his weight on you and dips his forehead to your pillow, resting his temple against yours. You both have aftershocks against each other as you try to catch your breath.

"Holy shit," you pant softly. Once he rolls off you, you're already sticking to each other near the edges of the mess where it's drying.

—--

All you can do is breathe heavily. His lips find yours. He kisses you deeply, then pulls back and hovers over you. He brushes tears you don't realize you're crying off your cheeks and his brow furrows.

"Shit," he says as his thumb brushes your cheek. His eyes are wide. "You okay?" He swallows and studies your face.

You nod confidently and look him in the eyes. He bows his head with relief, then gently kisses you again. You're terrified he's gonna come down and regret it. Your wet skin begins to feel cold. You look down. "Oh my god." It's so much cum. You're covered in it. It's all the way up to your breasts, at least. It's all over him, too.

"Oh shit," he says with a small laugh. "Gimme a sec." He gets out of bed.

-----

Cleaning both of you up takes multiple warm washcloths. You really need a full shower, but you're so tired and just want to be held.

You move to the dry side of the bed. You'll deal with it all in the morning. He turns off the lamp and gets under the sheets with you. You face each other, and he wraps his arms around you.

You ask, "What time do you have to leave?"

"I'm not worried about it," he says.

There's a long silence, during which he strokes your shoulder with his thumb.

Then you whisper, "What now?"

"Mmm….We do it again, and again, and again. . ."

You look up at him. "Are you mocking me?"

He kisses you.

"I'm trying to have an adult conversation," you mock back.

Then he whispers, "let's go to sleep" and kisses you good night.

—-------

His Xmas party look 😍😍😍

Distressed stepdad art 🥹🥹🥹

Thank you so much for reading and engaging. Your comments and reblogs mean a lot!!!! I love you guys. You can follow @toxicfics to turn on notifications. make sure your phone has push notifs enabled for tumblr.

If this is the first one you've read, I strongly recommend reading the series (it's not long like prob <15k total). there are references to it in this.

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All Joel:@ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @wolvesandvampires @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @gracieispunk @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @milla-frenchy @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @am-3-thyst @may-machin @pedromania91 @sloanexx @paleidiot

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #pedro pascal characters #toxicanonymity ☠️#stepdad!joel miller #stepdad!joel☠️#stepdad!joel #finally f*cking friday #tw stepcest

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heyidkyay · 3 months

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And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Fourteen

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way?

Authors Note: First bit is a lil messy! BUT it's just a way of moving through time whilst letting you know what's going on. Apologising anyway, tried to make it as simple as possible! Idk how I’m really feeling about this series atm ngl, hopefully I’ll find some more inspiration soon x

> Just a reminder! We left the last update with Mouse and her mum talking about Matty:) You can look back here if you'd like!

Masterlist

Mirror

14:04, 26 Dec 2023

For Christmas Denise Welch reunites with..

LOOSE Women star Denise Welch had a fun-filled Christmas this year with her two sons and...

*picture: family gathering featuring Matty Healy in red beanie*

comments:

@/user1 Glasses and beanie combo>>> @/user2 He was wearing that yesterday too @/user3 I wish my family was chill enough to take a xmas pic😭

[HOMESCREEN] 11:12

Facetime now Matty:)!! Incoming Call

Messages 4m Finnleyyy So will I be seeing my best mate this nye??

Instagram 11m Trumanblack mentioned you in a private story

TWITTER: ‘75 updates @/75updateacc Matty spotted out in Manchester! *picture: long trench and red beanie*

Ugh! @/user1 Matty on new years! *with old friends // red beanie tucked into a jacket pocket* > Loveme @/user2 The beanie is spotted again.. >> Saidhello @/user3 @/user2 Been all over his ig stories too 👀 friends? @/user4 I'm sort of obsessed w it and the fact it's stirring up so many questions💀 ppl, @/user5 it's so nice to see him actually happy!! lemmebepartoftheband @/user6 WAITING ON THE NEXT ALBUMMMM

Instagram

Trumanblack Story today

The Sun

23:47, 31 Dec 2023

MATTY HEALY SPOTTED OUT FOR NEW YEARS CELEBRATIONS AFTER 'SUPPOSED' SOBRIETY

The 1975 frontman was seen out in London this evening with friends and other members of the band celebrating a...

*picture: Matty Healy all dressed up and sporting a red beanie*

comments:

@/user1 shit like this ruins people @/user2 That hat again! Was it a Christmas present? @/user3 another celeb trying at sobriety, another bullshit article @/user4 Where in London even was this?

TWITTER: ‘75 updates @/75updateacc Band's interview with Variety today, click here for the video! Will be updating later on today:) *boys all pictured: George/shades, Matty/beanie&longtee, Ross/hairdown, Adam/leatherjacket*

[HOMESCREEN] 13:52

Messages 3m Matty:)!! Just wrapping up now, should be able to call in 10 x

Youtube 9m Recommended: The 1975 - Talks of tour? | VM Radio Uk

Instagram 21m Trumanblack just added to his story

AdelineWells sent you a direct message

23 New Notifications click to open

TWITTER: Partoftheband @/user1 Talks of tour??? Are they trying to kill me? Gotabf @/user2 The beanie!! It's back!! Milk @/user3 You reckon he's washed it? People! @/user4 He wears so much designer shit, why's he wearing a hat that looks like it was knitted by my nan??

With January, came sleet and heavy rain. Forcing us all indoors and making quick regrets over arduous New Year’s resolutions.

I had half a dozen interviews lined up in the first month alone, which was a promising start to the year but also incredibly nerve wracking. I’d spent the majority of the wavering days between Christmas and the 31st fretting over each and every detail, beyond thankful that my mum had stuck around a little longer after the festivities to help keep Teddy preoccupied.

Adi, thankfully, was stuck in the exact same boat, which meant that we could both bear the burden together. Leading to a whole lot of time being spent on the phone, making plans, or down at the studio, where Teddy could roam free. We were moving up in the world, as Matty now liked to claim, and so that meant more of our time being taken up by mundane tasks such as asking Hozier’s PA what kind of drink he preferred and avoiding a couple of Podcaster's sudden opinions on us.

Still, we were forever grateful.

Though it wasn’t just the radio show getting shafted with a shit ton of toil either, it appeared that work had Finn headed off to the States for a few gallery openings, and Matty pulled in all sorts of directions whilst the band sorted out their upcoming album.

I hadn’t heard a word of it, although the singer kept on endlessly chattering away about how much he loved the songs they were now producing, suddenly leased with a newfound life. Which always left me feeling happy, even if I did have to wait alongside the rest of the world to listen in. It was nice knowing that he was enjoying it all once more. Seeing as, music made Matty and Matty made music. And all that.

So anyway, what I’d been getting at there was that the last few weeks had been all too trying. Enough so that Matty and I had hardly seen hide nor hair of each other, and our Facetime calls had been fair and few. Which was something that didn’t just sadden me, but Teddy too it seemed, who’d come to quite like the musician and all of his odd quirks.

That fact in itself had almost sent me running, in truth.

And maybe that was silly of me, but Teddy was my everything and it killed me to see him upset over someone he barely even knew. But then again, I supposed he did know Matty in a way. Whenever Matty called, Teddy was there to tell the man about his day, whenever Matty texted he never failed to ask after Teds, whenever he sent pictures and videos of the studio and whatever else he was doing they were usually for Teddy to see.

I didn’t think Teddy had ever attached himself to a person so quickly. Which really did surprise me. Though oddly enough, what surprised me much more was the fact that Matty had just soldiered on and stuck with it, instead of running for the hills the first chance he’d gotten, like I’d expected.

Which was perhaps a bit of an unfair assumption on my part, but it was something I didn’t feel too guilty over- I’d made that clear to Matty the very first day the two of them had met after all.

Saying that though, I was left to eat my words as I watched that same man galavant his way around a London Zoo with a four year old plopped atop his shoulders. Doing so without complaint, and thoroughly enjoying it too.

“There! There, Matty! You see?” I heard Teddy call out in loud excitement as I trailed my way on after them, his little fingers holding onto the red beanie Matty now often favoured. Something I relentlessly teased him about but which left me feeling all warm every time I saw it.

“Oh yeah! I do now. Wow monster, how’d you even spot him over there?” Matty replied, feigning obvious awe and grinning madly when Teddy leaned over the top of his head to poke his face into view.

“I eat carrots.”

I snorted at the simple answer Teddy gave and Matty, forever charmed by my toddler’s antics, nodded around a low chuckle of his own. “I’ll make sure to buy a couple on my way home then.”

Stepping closer, I found it strange to be in a zoo so lifeless. Which probably sounded even more peculiar, but then again, it hadn’t been my idea to go ahead and rent the entire place out just so that we could have a nose around at all the wildlife without Matty getting mobbed. What a diva, hey?

“I still can’t believe you did all this.” I murmured to him once Matty had set Teddy back down on the ground, leaving my son to run on over towards one of the caged fences, calling out to the languid lions that laid beyond it.

“It’s sick.”

That had been Matty’s only defence since having arrived and me figuring this all out, it was as endearing as it was bewildering.

“It’s mental is what it is, you idiot.”

He glanced over at me, hands tucked up in his pockets, a smug grin now painted on his face. I crossed my arms over my chest, refusing to be charmed by him and his inane antics.

“Admit it, you’re loving this. Not having to worry about losing the kid and actually being able to get a look in at this lot.” Matty argued, and if he were anyone else he’d be swaying back and forth in utter delight- Wilmslow’s very own Willy Wonka- but all he did was simply look back at Teddy with a prideful grin, who was now currently trying to lure a lioness in closer.

Thing is, he wasn’t wrong. And Matty was enough of a git to know it too.

I didn’t grant him a reply though and instead wandered over to drag my son away from the ever nearing lion. “Did you see, mama? She likes me!”

I had to grin and bite back my sudden hysteria, although Matty snorted from his place now back beside us. “I did see, lovely! How about we go look at the snakes though now, hey?” And with that, Teddy was eager to part from us (and thankfully the lion) , sprinting ahead in the direction of a lizard sign that stood not too far away, leaving Matty and I to trail behind.

“Where all the animals are locked behind glass, yeah?” Matty piped up after and I narrowed my eyes at him in return, refraining from giving him a right good shove.

“Shut it.”

He merely cackled and looped an arm around my shoulders.

–

“They should just get back together. I mean- the money alone!”

I chuckled quietly to myself, moving about the tiny kitchenette at the studio and rolling my eyes at the man propped up between a Guinness World Records book we had and the sugar tin.

“I’m not saying that they shouldn’t! I’m just saying that they won’t.” I argued back, still rifling my way through a drawer in search of a sharp enough knife. “Those are two completely different things.”

“So what?” Matty scoffed, his displeasure with the whole debate managing to seep its way through the phone. “Fucking pair of pillocks, can’t even imagine how the world would react, the industry alone!”

I smiled, all too familiar with the daily rants of one Matthew Healy. This particular tirade of his had been spurred on by a comment I’d made on today’s show, it seemed he’d been listening in.

“Oo, is there a brew going for me?”

I glanced behind me just in time to spot Adi making her way into the studio, a large duffle bag for tomorrow's shoot thrown over her left shoulder.

“Who else?” I quipped back, grinning victoriously when I finally found the trusty blade I’d brought over from mine so many years ago now that laid between a wooden spoon and a jar opener.

“What are you even doing?” She asked me next, having already tossed the bag down onto the sofa and made her way over. She waved when she spotted Matty’s familiar face upon opening the fridge, used to his presence cropping up here and there by now, “Alright, Healy? Thought you had big meetings today.”

“We do. I’m currently hiding out in a bin.”

Adi paused to blink at the absurd reply and then shrugged, not seeing the point in questioning it any further. “And you?” She prompted me, plucking a pint of milk from the fridge and slamming it closed.

“So full of questions today, high inquisitor.” I sang, already moving to slice into the whole watermelon I’d brought on my way in, having right fancied it when I’d passed by the fruit & veg stall up on the high street. “And what do you think, Ads? Exactly what it looks like.”

“Yeah, but why?”

I just shook my head in answer and Adi seemed to take that for what it was, a blatant dismissal. Matty though, ever so sweet, must’ve felt a bit bad because I heard him pipe up again, “She’s gone and brought a whole watermelon. Paid five quid for the thing, you believe that?”

“Five quid! Did he ask if he could spit in your face too?” Adi all but exclaimed, eyes as wide as saucers as she looked over at me.

“Yes, five quid.” I stressed, having already heard enough of it from Matty, who didn’t have a leg to stand on here. “Now leave off, or I won't share.” I wielded the knife between the pair of them jokingly and Adi relented easily enough, already moving to skim a piece I’d just cut from off the counter. I cast a shrewd glance towards my phone, “And besides you can’t talk, Mr. Millionaire.”

Matty snorted.

“Is it really that much?” Adi wondered out loud, sweeping over to get a better glimpse at my screen and the man hidden within it.

I rolled my eyes and smirked, already figuring that she’d try her luck with just that thought alone.

“Piss off, Wells.” Matty laughed, amused by the ever so sweet smile Adi had suddenly conjured up for him and the way she was now batting her lashes, “How the fuck did we go from watermelon to my networth anyway?”

“Extortion.”

“Nepotism.”

I stopped slicing to taste test a chunk of watermelon and heard Matty heave a heavy sigh.

Adi, though, just moved to ask, “Did you threaten the fruit & veg man then?”

“Fucking should’ve.” I muttered, but couldn't quite bring myself to regret the wasted fiver then, not when the fruit was almost heavenly.

“Can you stop eating? I’m in a crisis you know, and fucking starving.” I heard Matty complain, his voice practically petulant.

“Actually, you’re in a bin.” I corrected, taking another chunk, “So don’t be a drama queen. If you’re hungry, order a Deliveroo or fuck off home.”

Matty was almost pouting when I slid on over to join Adi by the phone, a plate overwhelmed with watermelon now towering between us. His frown deepened. “You’re proper evil, you know that?”

I simply grinned, “You love it.”

Only Adi noticed the faint hue that bloomed across the singer’s cheeks then. Seeing as I was already rambling away once again, talking about the weekend get-together we’d planned now we all had some time to spare.

“You’re still coming, right?” I then asked Adi, who was now smirking for some reason. I raised a brow.

She merely hummed around her next slice and dipped her head at me, “Wouldn’t miss it for the world, babe.”

Matty’s eyes narrowed at that but I deemed it better to ignore whatever the two of them had going on, I found life to be much simpler that way.

–

It was almost gone nine and still no sign of her.

She had texted almost half an hour ago now, saying she was headed out, but Matty still kept his phone in hand, spinning it this way and that, just in case she tried messaging again.

“You’re driving me mad with that, man.” George suddenly announced, drawing Matty’s attention back to the table at the overcrowded club they’d picked out. “Stop it.” He added, swatting at Matty’s forearm when he’d barely acknowledged him the first time round.

Matty’s brow pinched but he let the mobile go with a clatter to the tabletop, “Happy?”

George exaggerated his smile in the same sense Matty just had whilst he clasped his hands in mock prayer before him, “Incredibly.” Then he relaxed back in his chair once more, face softening as Matty’s eyes shot out across the floor for the umpteenth time, “God, you’re really fucking strung up on this one.”

“Eh?” Matty immediately asked him, his head spinning back around to spare a glance at his mate.

“Just,” George began with a slow shrug, his chin dipped against his chest now in the way that he’d leaned back making his eyes appear all the more solemn. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you so invested, is all.”

“Invested, fuck’s that meant to mean?”

Goerge just huffed. “I don’t know, Matty. Just, you’re not usually the type to get so caught up on a girl you’re chasing.”

“I’m not chasing her. We’re mates.” Matty hastily defended and could feel the way his face had instantly scrunched up with the force of it.

He was gifted a short snort in return, “Yeah man, sure, and I can fly a shitting plane.” At Matty’s ever darkening expression, George sighed once more and moved to prop himself up on his knees, “Look yeah? I didn’t mean nothing by it, only curious. It’s weird seeing you all moody and pent up about somebody. Been a while.”

It had been a while since he’d last seen someone properly, but that didn’t suddenly mean that he and Mouse currently had anything going on. He’d been too focused on staying clean, working on the album, and trying to forget the last year and a half had ever happened. And Mouse… well, she had a kid and didn’t seem the type to take to anyone so easily. They were mates. Just, mates.

Matty must’ve been quiet a little too long though because when George spoke again his voice had softened, as had his face. It almost looked pitiful now, enough that Matty wanted to force him away from his line of sight. But he didn’t, only glanced back out towards the floor.

“Matty, mate. I really didn’t mean to piss you off, you know that. I’m just saying it how I see it.” Matty rolled his eyes but George only continued to talk, “It’s obvious that you like her, man. Whether it’s just as friends or something more. But do me a favour and just have a long think about it, yeah? She’s nice and all, but I don’t wanna see you hurt.”

Matty bit back the scoff that lodged itself in his throat, “If anything, G, it’d be me hurting her. Wouldn’t be that unexpected though, would it?”

George’s hand came to grasp his shoulder at that and with a firm but gentle grip he forced Matty to better face him, he leaned in so his voice would carry over the music, his forehead now furrowed. “You’re not a bad person, man. Not everyone’s expecting you to fuck up all the time.”

Didn’t that feel like a fucking lie.

The hand pressed further and George shook Matty a tad, wanting him to comprehend his words. Take them in. “You’re doing good, mate. Really good. And we’re proud, alright? We are. All I’m saying is, have a think about what you want. Make sure you’re happier for it, make sure… that you can deal with everything that comes along with it. Understand?”

Matty’s mouth felt a little dry as he stared up into George’s eyes, seeing the genuine care held within them. Almost immediately Matty felt his walls crumble down around him and he struggled to find the right words to respond with. They were proud. So instead, he just nodded and George’s hand clapped the back of his neck with a winning grin.

“Good. Now, go get her, yeah?”

Matty frowned at the words but before he could think to question it the table was moving to welcome in a couple of newcomers and he turned in his seat to meet the eyes of a smiling Squeaks.

“Hey you.”

“You made it!”

She grinned back at him, beamed actually, and Matty felt his eyes flicker down to her lips for a second, then down further to the lovely little dress she’d decided on. He hastily stood up to greet her, wrapping her up in a hug- something that had come more and more naturally to them in the last few weeks- and rocked slightly. “Get all dressed up for me, did you?”

Mouse pulled away with a laugh, her head thrown back a tad before her glistening eyes set themselves back on him, she squeezed his arm, “You wish.”

He did wish. But he didn’t voice that passing thought out loud, filing it away to stress about later, and instead shuffled nearer to whisper, “You do look gorgeous though.”

The skin by her ear prickled with goosebumps and Matty pulled away before he could get too caught up in what that might have meant. He graced her with a slow smile, “Drinks?”

She let go of a breath, then smiled brightly back at him with a dip of her chin, “Drinks.”

–

“I haven't heard a word of it!” I said, pushing my drink down onto the table. I was currently on my fifth of the night, but the guys were forever getting new rounds in and so I knew it wouldn’t take me long before I was handed another.

“You said you didn’t like our stuff!” Matty immediately answered back, his voice a tad bit higher now.

I gaped at the claim, “I did not!”

“Yes, you fuckin’ did!”

The rest of the table was watching on in ever growing amusement, Ross’s eyes were dancing back and forth between Matty and I, whilst Adi wore a grin that could probably help power Blackpool Tower.

“I said I loved your earlier work. I didn’t say I hated the newer stuff!” I rebuked, desperately trying to think back to that first show I’d mentioned Matty in. Had I really said that?

Matty went to speak but Hann cut in before he could, “You two are mental. All I asked was whether she’d heard anything we’d been working on.”

George snorted, managing to drag his eyes away from his fiance to smirk at the pair of us. “Remember she claimed the band looked spent.”

Matty jumped to point in George’s direction, pleased, whilst my eyes widened, “I wouldn’t!”

“You did, love.” George laughed, looking more amused than hurt which was the only thing keeping me from being physically sick. “It’s alright, no harm done.”

I fish-mouthed, but even with that having been said, Matty was still grinning victoriously. “Fucking told you.”

Wrinkling my nose, I turned to neck the rest of my drink. “Yeah, well. I do love your songs, alright?”

Matty’s brows upturned, as if he was about to deny the claim and accuse me of lying, but Adi cut in, “No it’s true, she's been listening to your shit nonstop since you two met. Like it’s grating at this point.”

“Harsh.” Ross dragged out and Adi gave him a coy smile when she went to pat his chest, “You try listening to his gob on repeat and then we’ll talk, yeah?” She retorted easily, dipping her head towards Matty, whose face scrunched up unhappily.

“Careful, Wells. Starting to sound like you might not like me.”

Adi flashed him a toothy smile, “Who claimed I ever did?”

I was quick to reach out and grab Matty’s wrist when he frowned, ready to open his mouth once more. The motion seemed to grab most, if not all, of his attention because he wavered in his stance before letting himself be pulled over.

“He’s fragile, Ads.” I chuckled to her, hand cradling the back of Matty’s head when he leaned in to press his face against my shoulder. “All the big rockstars have delicate egos.”

Adi snorted and I watched as she let Ross drape an arm over her shoulders, her hand finding his.

“Not fucking fragile.” Matty said, but the heat of it was lost in the mumble against my skin, I laughed.

“Sure, babe.” I murmured fondly, smiling when I felt the curve of his grin against my neck. I started to run my hand through his hair almost unconsciously, letting the alcohol dim the anxious worries that would typically cloud my mind. “You’re a real man.”

“A real fuckin’ man.”

I rolled my eyes with a shake of my head that must've disrupted Matty’s newfound peace because he pulled away slightly, hands falling to rest on my hips, keeping us close.

“You’re proper nice, you know?” He mumbled in contradiction to our previous argument, his head falling forward to press his forehead to mine. His eyes appeared so much darker in this light, the little space between us had me holding my breath. “So nice.”

Instantly I was reminded of one of the first conversations I’d had with Adi about Matty, he’d been nice then too. “Thanks.” I chuckled before swallowing, eyes trailing between his before I voiced the thought. “You’re nice too.”

He smiled, one of those lazy ones where his eyelids drooped and the skin around his mouth wrinkled. His stare dropped ever so slightly and my mouth parted on instinct.

Matty licked at his lower lip, teeth grazing it ever so slightly. “I’m glad I met you.”

My heart stuttered in my chest, squeezing in on itself so tightly that I thought it might just give out, before it finally let go. “I don’t think I’ve ever been told that before.”

Matty tilted his head at me causing the tip of his nose to brush against mine, I struggled to remember to keep breathing. “I’m glad I met you, Squeaks.” He repeated with an air of finality, either unaware or uncaring for the reaction it drew from me as he raised a hand to drag his thumb across my jaw.

I looked up into his eyes, unblinking. Aware that I’d never felt quite like anything this before.

“I’m glad I met you too.”

–

Metro News

Feb 2024 06:21

SETTLING DOWN? | ‘75 SINGER CAUGHT IN CLUB WITH SINGLE MUM

Last night it seems our local heartthrob was back out on the town again after a few weeks of silence, only this time he wasn't alone! Read more...

[HOMESCREEN] 07:59

Facetime now Finnleyyy Incoming Call

Messages 7m Adi x Babe wake up, shits going down over on twitter!! Also (very much related) did you shag Healy last night???

Twitter 11m You now have 378 notifications

TWITTER: ‘75 updates @/75updateacc The Band spotted out in London last night with the MouseOnAMic girls! *picture: a story from Adelinewells instagram//blurred group photo*

backofmyvan @/user1 Is this real?? *picture: blurred Matty and Mouse in a dark club* Funnyface @/user2 Is that the radio host? she has a kid?? Saidhello! @/user3 I woke up to chaos. On another note, how are my matty girlies doing today?

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wiki-howell · 2 months

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i feel so bad for my mum who had to deal with me openly being a phannie when i was 12 and literally asking for tabinof for christmas and now dealing with me as an 18 y/o asking for dans book for xmas and ordering a wad t shirt with my own money

#dnp #dan howell #daniel howell #dan and phil #joeyposting

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yoonia · 5 months

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Writing Update: Jan 2024

I figured I should keep you guys updated on some of the stuff I'm currently working on. I've been busy catching up with work since I'm dealing with a new project that started last Dec, but I'm trying the best I can to also catch up with fic updates. So here it goes:

Bedroom Hymns (myg x reader) ⏤ this month's target/estimated word count: chapter 12-13; 14k words in total ⏤ progress written: 1,5k words (from my writing goal only) Currently in rough draft writing form, but I also skipped ahead to a smut scene that may not happen until waaayyyy later. So there's that lol (ps. the moodboard above contains spoiler to what's going to happen in the next chapter)

A Christmas Fix (kth x reader) ⏤ estimated word count: 40k words (originally planned as 30k but you know me) ⏤ progress written: 25,050 words Already on second/final draft writing with 3,5 more scenes to go. I'm hoping to be able to finish this one this week because it's been delayed for too long already. Cross some fingers for me!

Hot Mess (kth x reader) ⏤ estimated word count: 6-7k words ⏤ progress written: 5k words Yes, I originally was close to finishing this when I took a break and focused on the xmas fic. Might be able to post this as soon as my other Tae fic is done

note | If you’re interested in being added into my permanent taglist, please enter your url on this link. If you only want to be added on a specific update, please add your url and the fic you’re looking for in the replies below, and remember to make sure that your url can be easily found/tagged.

xoxo, Dia

#misc: work in progress #writing process #updates

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starstruckunknown-princess · 1 year

Text

For Display Only

Pairing: George Weasley x F!Reader

Warnings: PTSD reaction, some angst

Word Count: 505

Summary: George has a reaction before you get the chance to premiere your Hogwarts gingerbread house display and you help him deal with the fallout.

A/N: This is an angsty one with a little bit of fluff toward the end. I think I forgot to mention that these will only go through Xmas, 12/25/22, but I will definitely do this type of thing again! Also, my requests are open! I will put out a list of accepted requests later cuz right now I’m dealing with Covid Part Two: Electric Boogaloo (aka the second time I’ve gotten Covid). Anyway, hope you all enjoy this one!

Fluffcember Masterlist

“Carefully, love!” George said as you levitated the massive gingerbread recreation of Hogwarts down the stairs from the flat above into the shop’s front window. For the last few Christmases the shop proprietors of Diagon Alley had held a window display contest amongst themselves, and Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes had a four-year winning streak to maintain.

Last night, you and George had stayed up until the wee hours painstakingly reconstructing Hogwarts turrets and towers and buttresses (George giggled every time you said “buttresses”) out of gingerbread, gluing them together with frosting, and adding candy accents where you saw fit.

“I am being careful!” you said, irritable from lack of sleep and his needling. He’d wanted to premiere the window display that morning right as the store opened. A few employees entered as you reached the bottom of the stairs, each one pausing to marvel at the biscuit creation.

“You got Gryffindor tower just right!” Ron complimented, stepping out of your way.

“I lived there for seven years, you ninny, of course I got it right!” George wrapped an arm around his younger brother’s neck and ruffled his hair with the other hand.

“Oi! Watch it, you two!” You shouted as their wrestling got a bit too close for your comfort.

“Right, sorry sweetheart,” George said, releasing his brother and planting a kiss on your cheek.

“Yeah, sorry sweetheart,” Ron teased, his jape aimed at George. He was so quick with it you could’ve sworn it was said by…

You heard George gulp and sigh. Without thinking, you whirled around to face the one-eared man you loved. It had been a long time since he’d had one of his reactions, but you still recognized the signs. His shoulders tightened, his breathing grew short and sharp, and his skin paled, growing clammy.

The entire energy of the shop shifted. No longer was it a monument to his and Fred’s hard work and dedication to all things mischief and mayhem. It became a mausoleum, a house of all things haunted.

“Wotcher!” Ron yelled, just before the gingerbread Hogwarts crashed to the ground. It lay in crumbles on the floor behind you as George himself crumbled in front of you. He fell to his knees and braced himself against the banister of the stairs. Neither you nor Ron moved, knowing that only George could pull himself out of whatever bout he was in.

After a few minutes of silence, George rose to his feet and headed back up the stairs.

You started to follow him, then turned back to address Ron. “Ron, will you-?”

“Yeah, I’ve got it. You go help him,” he said, broom already in hand.

Once you and George returned to the safety of your flat, you put the kettle on and wrapped his favorite robe around his shoulders before turning on the phonograph. A few hours later, when he emerged, he looked at you with a sad smirk.

“Guess we won’t win the display contest this year, eh?”

“Eh,” you consoled, “We’ll get them next year.”

Fluffcember Masterlist

#hp fanfic #george weasley x reader #george weasley fanfic #george weasley angst #george weasley fluff #george weasley #gingerbread house #fluffcember #writing challenge

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morvantmortuary · 1 year

Note

12, 56, or 67 for the ask prompts - whichever of these you find most inspired by for our Maxi 🖤

12: "I'll love you til my breathing stops"

56: "I am not myself anymore, I'm yours"

67: "You're so perfect, why do you want me?"

hi bee! :’D sorry I’m an idiot! 🖤

I’ll be honest, this one is definitely more… personal than I intended. I started writing it when I was really Going Through It w/r/t some depression stuff, a minor existential crisis where I wondered if it was worth staying in my program, dealing with the fact that my closest friends were also going through it and nothing I said seemed to help, just a whole slew of stuff that left me feeling rock bottom.

another part of it, I think, is that I have this weird thing where even though these were yandere prompts, I just… had this thing where I couldn’t just write the Reader hearing them? like, I thought for even someone like Maxi, who worships the ground his reader walks on, to out and say some of these things, I had to like - justify them somehow. Like I couldn’t hear them unless I was emotionally bleeding out, almost. maybe it’s because I’m a sucker for hurt/comfort, or something else I need to go to therapy about idk

and then once I got so far in, I was like “rae wtf this is such a fucking bummer, no one is gonna want to read this,” and so for a while I thought about starting over again just for something more fun

but, eventually, I reread this piece again, and decided that even if it’s kind of a sad start, maybe someone else could use something for the worst kind of days. I meant to post this on Yule, bc “longest night of the year” and all, but we all know how I am with doing anything remotely on time :’D

so, if anyone else is maybe having a hard time on this xmas eve, I hope maybe this is a small something to help

warnings for some really vicious self-talk on the part of the Reader, v v v brief discussion of su!cidal thoughts (like I said, I was going through it), descriptions of an anxiety attack, Maxi being a little too happy to murder anyone who hurt you, Maxi and his Reader swearing their deaths to each other, descriptions of necromancy, patricide, etc.

merry xmas, and rora and hector both have pieces coming too - this was just the one that got finished first 🖤 thanks for being kind enough to request, and I’m sorry again it took so long! I hope it’s okay 🖤

it hurts because you’re alive

(maxi morvant x gn!reader)

It wasn’t often you still had to contend with the voice from the darkest part of your brain. The one that had stalked you through the left-hand mirrors from the Masquerade, the one that some demonic presence - essence? Whatever - imitated in Maxi’s own mouth when it was trying to convince you to let yourself lay down and be prey. Since you’d been building yourself a pleasant life in Greymoon, one that you were more than happy to share with the man who’d stolen your heart, it had retreated back to whatever noxious neural fold it called home.

That didn’t mean there weren’t hard nights. Ones where it found you left vulnerable by an insomnia that refused to abate.

This was one of them.

You weren’t sure what had set it off, really: maybe it was the fact that Murphy’s Law had been in full effect at work, and nothing you tried had been enough to turn the day around. Maybe it was the phone call with your mom after, where more than one she’d suggested (albeit gently) that despite all the progress towards feeling like yourself again you’d made since moving here, there was still more you could be doing. Maybe it was the texts you’d swapped with Pavi that afternoon, where she rehashed the latest fight she’d had with a girlfriend she would’ve readily called awful if she’d been yours, Em’s, or Laurie’s. As carefully as you’d tried to point out that Pavi seemed to accept things for herself that she would’ve found intolerable for any of her friends, the two of you had just gone in circles, with Pavi insisting that she was probably just being biased in her recounting of the argument and you nearly pleading with her to consider how she’d feel if anyone else she loved was being treated the same way. When this proved fruitless, you’d eventually stopped and just let your friend vent until she felt better. It was the least you could do.

But long after you’d said goodnight, you were still sitting cross-legged on the end of your bed, lost in thought as you worried the skin on your lower lip with your teeth. After years of living with your specific brain curses, your usual self-soothing method was straightening up your house while listening to music as loud as you could stand it on your headphones; the idea being that bouncing between tasks with something drowning out the Voice would eventually convince it to give up and let you focus on anything else. But tonight, that had only left you more restless than usual. Your brief attempt to sleep had just ended in you plugging your string of fairy lights back in and returning to your playlist, trying to ward off your internal darkness with external stimuli.

How did you think you would be enough?

You trapped a piece of skin between your teeth, and bit down.

No, really. How did you possibly think anything you had to offer, to any of them, would be enough?

“It’s not about me,” you muttered aloud. “It was just a bad day. Shit happens. I’ll live, it’s fine.”

Your teeth, however, bit down once again on the spot. You could just taste the faintest trace of blood.

And now you’re talking to yourself. Just like old times.

Fuck off, you thought instead, but the Voice just seemed to crow in the fact that it’d made you change.

Oh, you little idiot. Just as spineless as you’ve always been. Your job knows that, you know - you weren’t smart enough or quick enough to improvise today. They all saw you fail. You let everyone down. Again.

This is unhelpful. You knew this was unhelpful. This was just wallowing. Everyone had bad days. This would pass. You would be fine.

…Right?

Your progress is not enough for your mother. She knows you can do more, do better. Be more. You can dress up laziness as contentment all you like, it’s still obvious to her. She must be so disappointed in what you turned out to be.

Your teeth kept sawing at the skin, and you winced at the sting of its separation from raw flesh, even as the taste of blood spread across your tongue.

Your love is not enough for your friend. It doesn’t matter how ferociously you care for her - it isn’t ever going to outweigh the hurt she’s willing to endure for even a taste of someone else’s. Someone real.

Stop, you begged yourself. You knew what came next.

How long until that ‘soulmate’ of yours sees all this and realizes his mistake?

You didn’t hear yourself whimper at this over the bass in your ears, the volume hurting now more than helping. You made no move to turn it down.

I’m curious. You suck at math, but make me laugh with an attempt: how long, exactly, do you think it will take for him to realize you weren’t worth the pain he went through? That he’s scarred, now, for nothing that could actually matter?

Your teeth picked a new spot and bit, but the tears were already there.

How long do you think you have until he resents you for your weaknesses? For everything you couldn’t be?

How long until even a creature of the utmost darkness finds you, and your broken little brain and heart, intolerable?

No, you pushed back. He’s not that. He isn’t, even with what he did. Does. He could never be. He’s good, his heart is good, despite everything that tried to force him to be otherwise.

Fine, the voice amended. Then how long until he gets restless because he’s stuck with a burden like you? Because you could never amount to more than everything you are that no one should ever have to deal with, much less love?

You blinked, feeling your breath begin to shake as something warm slid down your face.

There we go, the voice purred. You aren’t completely stupid after all. Gold star for effort.

You tried to force yourself to pick up your hands and wipe your face. Try to stem the flow of tears that turned your eyeliner into so much grime under your eyes, something else that added to the pathetic ineptness of your mien.

But they sat, listless and useless, on your thighs that took up too much room.

You can still exit gracefully, you know. …Well. As gracefully as possible for you. You owe everyone that much.

This was a lie. You knew, on some level, this was a lie. But it felt like the conscious You was locked at the back of your brain, kicking uselessly as this creature that seemed to slither and circle around the rest of your skull - and squeeze.

Your boyfriend’s a mortician, for crying out loud. He’ll at least make you look decent so you’re not a total embarrassment to anyone. Your mom won’t even have to clean up the mess when they find it.

…You had to admit. This made a certain, pragmatic amount of sense. It was tidy. Convenient.

Easier, perhaps, than the mortifying alternative of staying. Of letting anyone look too close.

He might even think one of your friends at the service is cute. Two birds, one stone. Provided any show up, of course.

That’s fair, you figured, this would be fairly short notice. People might still have to work, or have other plans, and you couldn’t expect people to drop everything for—

You let out a small shriek as you felt a chilled hand settle on your shoulder, nearly falling off your bed as you pushed hard away from the direction of your door.

When you just caught yourself on the edge of your mattress, you whipped around to see Maxi standing there, flattening himself as best he could against the doorframe and showing you his palms with an equally startled expression.

He mouthed something at you, and you could only blink, still not quite firing on all cylinders. He pointed to his own ear, looking concerned, and you jumped, quickly pulling your earbuds out.

“Sorry,” you managed. “Didn’t hear you come in.” You winced as you could hear your own voice crack, and before you could clear your throat, Maxi’s face changed.

“Hey now.” In one fluid motion, he crossed the space between you and fell to a knee where you perched at the end of your bed, peering up into your face with a familiar, scalpel-sharp scrutiny. “You okay, gorgeous?”

You looked away, trying to avoid his searching gaze, but he caught your jaw gently, guiding you by his fingertips at your chin to look at him again.

He made a small noise of alarm in his throat when you faced him, and when you finally met his eyes, he looked stricken. “Darlin’, talk to me, what’s wrong?” he murmured. His fingers traced over the tracks of your tears, wiping them away. He turned his hand slightly to examine his own fingertips, looking increasingly worried, before he moved closer to your knees to look up into your eyes. “Did someone upset you?”

For the most part, he still sounded like your partner - sweet, thoughtful, a habitual worrier - but you could hear the edge of something else creeping into his question. Something darker, lurking at the back of his own skull.

But how could you explain? If you told him what was going on - what was really happening - wouldn’t that just prove your inner darkness right? That you were a burden, demanding of care?

You kicked yourself internally, feeling guiltier now. Maxi already had to deal with a lot at his job, people grieving real losses. Why should he have to come home to even more crying from you, who was just wallowing in their own despair?

“Hey,” he urged again, softer, snapping you back to reality. He reached up, gently intertwining his fingers with yours where your hands still sat on your lap. “Angel, c’mon. You’re scarin’ me a little here. Tell me what’s goin’ on, okay? Let me help. Do I need to have words with someone?” He traced his thumbs across the back of your hands, trying to soothe you - but you fixated on the way he subconsciously rolled his shoulder, the one you had marked on that dark Halloween in the cemetery.

For some reason, it was that gesture - so innocuous, yet obvious in how you seemed to inflict yourself on him, on everyone - that finally broke the dam between your sinking heart and the world outside. The spiral had you fully in its grasp, and there was no getting out.

Your eyes blurred over as you looked resolutely down, feeling tears escaping their bounds faster than you could hold them back. A few of them made splattered constellations on the skin of your legs, just adjacent to where Maxi’s hands where intertwined with yours. You bit down on your lip, trying to muffle the sob that had been building for what felt like the entire evening, but the smallest of sounds still managed to wriggle its way out around your teeth.

Maxi let go of your hands abruptly, and you couldn’t blame him for his withdrawal - until the cold clutch of them encircled your face, guiding your head gently upwards to meet his eyes.

What you found waiting for you was the color of blood from deep in the body, seeming to burn of their own accord in the dim of your room. He was practically nose to nose with you, staring at you over the tops of his glasses with a look like a knife’s edge. “Give me a name,” he said, so soft it was barely more than a whisper. His fingers stroked your skin, but his grip was firm. “And they won’t see sunrise. I promise.” He leaned forward to close the distance between you, kissing gently at one of the tracks of your tears - but you still felt the brief, hot touch of the tip of his tongue to the spot. “Let me take care of it for you, please.”

You sniffled, trying to rescue some shred of composure. “It’s n-nobody. Really.”

“Oh, angel,” Maxi cooed, pulling just slightly back. He traced a new trail down your cheek with his thumb, hovering close to you. “You don’t have to defend anyone who doesn’t deserve it. Whatever it was, whatever they said to cause - this,” his hand flipped to stroke your skin with a knuckle. “It’s justified for me.” He kissed your forehead before meeting your eyes again.

You shook your head as the last of your composure slipped through your grip. “It’s not even a-anybody’s fault,” you managed around the lump in your throat. “I s-swear, it’s just…” You swallowed hard, but the ache just caused you to stop. “It’s just my fucking broken-ass brain.”

“…It’s what now?” You could practically hear the record scratch in Maxi’s brain as the murder dropped out of his expression entirely, leaving him blinking as the glimmering red seemed to cool like the last embers of a campfire.

You hurriedly wiped your eyes with the sleeve of your hoodie. “It’s nothing, I told you,” you mumbled. “I’m just fucking sad again over some stupid shit that doesn’t m-matter, like always,” you tried to inhale, but your breath shook too hard for you to get any relief. “And I c-can’t change it—“

Your heart was thundering in your ears, washing out all other sound. You were drowning.

“B-because I’m not g-good at making anything better, for anyone—“

Your skin was too hot. You felt seasick. This was really it, wasn’t it. The moment that you finally tipped your hand and showed how much of a wreck you really were inside, and he would make the only logical decision. One you could never blame him for, really, because it was inevitable.

It fell out of your mouth in a rush, insensate almost to your own ears: “And I’m just going to be like this forever, and you’re going to get sick of me and leave, and why shouldn’t you, when I can’t even keep my shit together and just be a n-normal fucking functional—“

You were aware of the words dying on your lips, the sudden movement causing the ache to leave your lungs in an exhale, but you weren’t sure of the cause.

You also weren’t quite sure why the room shifted, or why you were suddenly staring up at your ceiling rather than down at your feet, but you were conscious of being cocooned in the essence of your partner: the faintest hint of embalming fluid, something like wood polish, the cologne he put on this morning, and the touch of laundry detergent that had started to smell like home to you.

You realized he’d taken you both to your mattress in a near-tackle, cradling you before you could realize what was happening. You were caged in his arms now, laying sideways next to him with your hands pressed against his chest between the pair of you. The pressure you felt around your torso was him squeezing like he was trying to keep you from coming apart at your ribs.

Like you were something fragile.

It took you a moment to realize further that his lips were against your hair, and the hiss you heard was him shushing the tiny, cracking sobs that were finding their way piecemeal out of your chest.

“No, baby, I’m always gonna be yours,” Maxi murmured into your hair. “It’s okay, baby. You’re my life, I’m not goin’ anywhere.” He kissed your head like he was trying to kiss your skull itself. “Mine’s broke too. It’s okay.”

You half-sobbed, half-hiccuped. “I’m sorry. I didn’t— you shouldn’t have to—“

“Nothin’ to apologize for,” Maxi insisted, somehow managing to hug you tighter without bruising your sides. “You’re mine. I won’t ever go somewhere without you.”

“But I’m a mess,” you blurted wetly against his vest, your chest kicking like a horse from the inside. “I’m such a mess, Maxi, I’m gonna wear you out. I wear everyone out, you don’t understand.”

Maxi shifted so instead of keeping you against his chest, he was eye-level with you, squeezing your shoulders in his hands as his glasses were somewhat crooked against your pillow. “Darlin’, I know everything feels wrong right now, and your brain’s not fightin’ fair,” he said softly, his eyes wide as he searched yours. “But I think your sense of scale is a little bit… skewed, here.” He smiled weakly. “I’m not tryin’ to make light of anything, but I think I have a little more reason to be worried about somethin’ like that.”

Your heart was racing in your chest like you were trying to drive with no way to steer. “I don’t wanna make you tired of me,” you managed, not entirely sure if you were making sense anymore. “I don’t want to make your mark hurt anymore, I don’t want you to come home from a long day to me being a drain, I don’t want you to realize you got a bad deal.”

“Angel,” Maxi soothed, running a hand over your hair. “You’re not thinkin’ straight. That’s not somethin’ I would think about you, ever. You’re talkin’ to the serial killer here, remember?” he added, with a laugh that sounded more nervous than anything. “You’re the one who got more than you signed up for.”

“You had to go through that whole thing with your dad, and They Who Decide,” you went on, as if he’d proved your point. “You wouldn’t have had to if I wasn’t here. You wouldn’t have had to get hurt, or get possessed, or—“

“For you, I’d do it all again tomorrow,” Maxi said, his voice soft. “In a heartbeat. I don’t care.”

You shook your head, not sure how you couldn’t make him see what was right in front of his eyes. “I’m not worth that, Maxi, that’s what I’m trying to tell you now rather than you waste more time.”

“And I’m tryin’ to tell you,” Maxi argued, his eyes plaintive. “That I don’t care what that demon in your head says, baby. I got one too,” he insisted, loosening an arm so he could gesture at his temple. “The real one and the one that comes from growin’ up thinkin’ I’m dead already, and nothin’ would ever change that. You have no idea how many times a day I wish to god,” he smiled, and it was strained. “I wish I could go back, somehow, and tell me when I was livin’ through the worst parts — every dark basement, every broken body, every night feelin’ absolutely fuckin’ inhuman — that we were gonna find you. That all this bullshit was gonna turn out to be worth it. All the years of feelin’ like I couldn’t tell anyone the truth, and we survived.”

Your shoulders bucked slightly as you fought your sobs. “I don’t want to let you down. I’m so scared of disappointing you, you don’t understand—“

Maxi took your face in his hands again, his gaze pleading. “No, you don’t understand,” he said, and you could hear him fighting to keep his voice steady. “You don’t have to be the one that’s afraid of that. You could never disappoint me in a way that matters. I’d swear it to you on our future tomb. I need you to listen to me, baby, I will love you ’til my breathin’ stops and long, long after. There’s nothin’ you could do, no part of you that you hate that would ever make me think otherwise. You could put a bullet through the dead center of my chest, and not only would I think you were in the right, I’d still love you when I hit the ground.”

The idea of causing him harm of any sort squeezed your throat harder than the lump that was already there. “I don’t know how you can say that,” you whispered, shaking your head. “I keep waiting for you to realize that I’m not enough to justify that kind of pain. I’m so scared of hurting you. Of being the reason you get hurt.” Your hands found his shoulders and your fingers curled tightly into the fabric of his shirt, desperate for something to hold on to. “You’ve already been through so much, you don’t deserve to suffer when you can avoid it. I couldn’t stand myself if I brought that on you, on top of all my shit you already have to put up with.”

The red returned to Maxi’s eyes, and oddly, you were more soothed than alarmed. You almost wanted his darker self there as a form of assurance, to know that it could protect the man you loved from the fathomless chasm that felt like it was splitting your chest.

“Listen to me,” he demanded, that shadow from his eyes creeping into his words. “I never… I never got to belong to myself, you understand? I was always my family’s next chess piece on the board, or They Who’s next prize monster, or the reaper’s host. I knew that. I spent my life knowin’ that, and I didn’t see another option.”

You recognized the way his fingers of his left hand moved against your back, his tell for weighing his options. The way his eyes went briefly distant, you realized he was making a decision.

His free hand moved to his chest, tracing the scar there through the fabric of his clothes. “…This wasn’t…” He trailed off, his lips a frustrated line as he chose his words. His eyes met yours again, the red still there, brighter now. “…This wasn’t just my dad,” he said at last. “I mean, he put the first one there. The original.” He hesitated a moment longer, the tip of his tongue briefly tracing his lip. “…When I thought my family’s legacy was all I had — all I’d ever have — I reopened it.”

You flinched in horror at the very idea, knowing just how deep that scar tissue went, how thick it was over the muscle. “Oh, Maxi… why, baby?”

A corner of his mouth twitched into a grimace “There’s all sorts of things you can do with a heart when you know how, babydoll. Unnatural things that no one can undo… that no good person would ever dream of.” His eyes moved to a point in the distance over your shoulder, something in them dimming. “And for a long time, I studied it. I read everythin’ I could find about it. It was all I could dream about anymore.” His eyes flicked back to yours. “I was ready to give up blood, skin, and bone for just the chance that it would work.”

Your tears were sticky on your face where they were drying, and you fought a shiver from somewhere deep in your gut, like it recognized something in Maxi’s words you didn’t. “…So what happened?” You couldn’t help but whisper, despite the fact that it was just the two of you in your room.

Like you were afraid something else would hear you.

An exceptionally grim smile bloomed on Maxi’s face. “Not my proudest moment, is what.” He looked away from you again, as if he couldn’t bear to hold your gaze. “Or maybe it was, I don’t know. It was the night I buried my mother. I wasn’t sober by any means, but my father was dead drunk. He interrupted me, we got to arguin’, then screamin’, and before I quite realized what I’d done… he was just dead.”

Silence settled over the pair of you as he met your eyes again, watching you like he was waiting for you to recoil from him. To suddenly realize in that moment what kind of monster had been sharing your bed for all this time.

“…Yeah, well,” you murmured. You reached up, gently brushing a lock of his hair away from his eyes as you held his gaze. “Good riddance.”

Maxi’s smile softened into the one you knew best, his eyes relieved despite the shade lingering in them. “I didn’t realize just how lucky I was that night. Not by half.” He reached up, moving some of your hair on your pillow away from your face. “Because later, after so long of never belongin’ to myself, you let me be yours. And you gave me back what was left of me, you hear?” He swallowed hard, and you could finally see the glow that had swept in with the familiar red gleam was at least partially tears of his own. He traced the line of your cheek. “You reminded me I was still a person, somewhere under all of this. That I was allowed to want more than just grittin’ my teeth and gettin’ through what brief mortal life I was meant to have.” He shifted on his pillow again, closing the distance between the two of you. “I spent ages askin’ myself, ‘they’re the closest thing to perfect I’ve ever had, the hell do they want with me?’ And—“ He stopped, forcing himself to take a breath that wasn’t quite steady anymore. “And you took such… care of me,” he went on. “You loved me so much, I started to believe I could just… be human, after all this time. Could deserve to be loved, even.”

He moved his hands so his arms encircled your waist again, hugging you tightly while giving him enough space to keep eye contact. “You have no idea how many times in my life I went out in the dark and didn’t care if I saw daylight,” he said softly. “But that night we walked into the Masquerade together, I knew I’d fight Hell itself just to stay alive with you for one more hour. I’d never been more certain of anything in my entire life.”

The heat that seemed to fill your own eyes, lingering at your lash line, was from something entirely different now.

“Your brain chemistry can run its miserable little mouth all it wants, darlin’.” Maxi rested his forehead gently against yours. “And I’ll be here to hold you until it quiets down, whenever you need me to. But it’s dead wrong. I know that for a fact.” One of his hands, still cool to the touch, cupped your cheek like you were something wondrous. “There is nothin’ about my life you haven’t made better just by bein’ in it. And we’re gonna live a longer one still. A happy one, despite everythin’, together,” he took one of your hands in his, bringing it gently to his lips. “I love you exactly as you are. I always will.”

Fresh rivulets formed on your face, but these felt… different. Like rain after a drought.

You wound your arms around his neck, trapping his chest — scar and all — against your own. “I love you the same,” you whispered. “Exactly as you are. All of you.” You pressed a single kiss to the corner of his mouth. “And there’s nothing that can ever change that.”

Maxi’s grin was unmistakable. “Y’know, it’s the damnedest thing,” he said quietly. “For the first time, I’m lookin’ forward to livin’ through whatever’s next.”

You smiled for what felt like the first time in days. “I’m glad I get to be here for it.”

Maxi leaned forward to kiss you properly, long and slow as though to make it last the rest of your lives.

#nice people #bee!! 🖤🥰#maxi morvant #maximilian vincent morvant #morvant mortuary #maxi morvant x reader #maxi morvant x you #maxi and his reader #maxi's final them #slasher oc #necromancer oc #slasher oc x reader #gn!reader #genderqueer reader #non-binary reader #plus size reader #reader's in a dark place #not quite hurt/comfort but close

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