#I didn’t want to tell you before Xmas

[wittyno]

You may love your job and your coworkers but always remember your employer doesn’t love you.

[bamboozled-distress]

.

[holdingcourtwiththevoid]

Just finished Heartstoper S3 and am a big HUGE fan of how they covered Isaac being Aro/Ace.

The way they didn’t just show him accepting it straight away, as some people think happens. Like, realising and accepting that you’ll never have a whole part of what society tells you life is meant to look like is HARD and I’m so glad they didn’t just brush over that. The whole plot point/line of him being annoyed all his friends are coupling up and putting their partners before him is SO REAL that it literally pained me to watch it (in a good way.)

ALSO when he’s talking to Charlie on the beach and is like ‘I would tell them but don’t want to give a whole vocab lesson each time’ was just *chefs kiss.* I once had to explain what being aromantic was at friends-xmas and it killed the entire vibe of the night for me.

So yeah, major respect to Alice Oseman and especially Tobie Donovan for how Isaac is represented, and especially how he talks (or doesnt talk) to other characters about being Aro/Ace.

[notroosterbradshaw]

Christmas (Baby, Please Come Home)

about: Bradley's home just before the turn of midnight. After 15+ Christmases together, it's just sometimes lovely to reminisce about life before the babies wake and the madness ensues.

word count: 6k

warnings: nsfw 18+, language, pure fluff, smut.

a/n: I haven't had a lot of time to put this together the way I would have liked, I will quietly edit after xmas to put some more time into this... hopefully. otherwise, please enjoy and have yourself a merry little something if you feel that way inclined x

masterlist.

It was so late. 

Bradley was so late.

A late arrival to base, mandatory debrief, it was a shitshow of delay after delay from his three-month deployment but coming home to see the house dark, he knew you’d given up and headed to bed. “Fuck,” he muttered to himself, quietly dropping his duffel bag at the front door but ears pricked up to hear Christmas music – Eagles, Please Come Home for Christmas – and he could swear, you singing gently with Don Henley. The sweetest sound even if you were the first to admit your voice was reminiscent of nails on a blackboard.

Untrue. It was like pure honey from the hive and he couldn’t get enough.

Chewing his lip in anticipation as he quietly unlaced his boots, he wandered into the dim living room, only lit by the glow of the fading white lights on the tree and carefully curated tea lights flickering on the fireplace. But he couldn’t interrupt the revelry as you danced gently around the tree you were trimming, one hand adjusting a decoration, the glass piano that once belonged to his old man, and a balloon of Pinot Noir in the other. He watched as you took a delicate sip, the floor around the tree littered with beautifully wrapped gifts and the stockings full of candies and odds and ends.

It really was a picture. You curated magic.

If he knew you, and he knew you so well, the tree would have been up on Thanksgiving evening and perfected every night until now, Christmas Eve. So beautiful in what little you wore, one of his many threadbare old Navy tees and maybe some undies underneath for modesty, or maybe not, he hoped. The reflection of the lights danced against your bare skin on display that had him swallow rough, and like most instances in your presence, hard. So hard. Three months without your touch, taste and sweet voice hard.

“Hi,” Bradley said finally, as you jolted slightly and looked in his direction, a smile growing on your face as he made his way to you, steadfast as he wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his forehead against yours. 

“Hi,” you said simply, even though you had a thousand things you wanted to tell him. “Merry Christmas, Bradley,” you said as he smiled softly at you, grasping your cheek in his calloused palm and searching your face intently – looking for anything that may have changed, confident in his recall he could never forget one feature on your divine face. 

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

“I didn’t think you’d make it,” you confided delicately. And honestly? Neither did he. 

He looked at his watch. “With moments to spare,” he said, amber eyes dancing mischievously. “God, I missed you,” he breathed, your delicate perfume grounding him, ridding away his sea legs. “May I?” he nodded towards the wine in your hand, and you gratefully passed it to him. “Like this,” he told you. “Glass for me?”

You made a face. “Like, six hours ago… maybe?” 

He grinned. “That good, huh?”

“I’m sorry, but you were so late.”

“So late,” he mocked, bobbing to put the glass on the coffee table.   

“And yet you still haven’t kissed me,” you mumbled.

He huffed a gentle laugh and did exactly what was expected of him. Three months away from your soft lips, and sparkling eyes as he pulled you closer to him with a firm hand on your lower back. Three months of fantasising what this moment would feel like even though it had happened dozens of times before. How slick your tongue was against his and it reminded him of the soft-spoken, even shy freshman he met in college in his sophomore year. The first time your eyes met in the dorm hall as you dragged your suitcases behind you, looking for room numbers and coming up short. So small in the ocean of chaos.

Bradley had no reason to go over and ask if he could help you. Leave the conversation with friends about, he reckoned, the Phillies… Countless students were struggling with the same problems, but you? Magnetic. No one else mattered, it was like no one else in the universe existed. And still… now? Aside from your beautiful daughters, maybe no one else did either.

That’s how Bradley Bradshaw’s kiss made you feel after all these years. The man who could have any woman he wanted, and those who still felt entitled to try and sway his attention on the infrequent nights out you shared. 

And just like the boy you fell in love with, his firm hands skimmed the fabric of the tee. You felt a warm palm against your hip and drift to your thigh and of course, his intended destination, against your bare ass – “Perfect,” he breathed against your lips.

You weren’t sure when he’d started dancing with you, his hips slowly guiding you to whatever song was in the background, now you weren’t so sure because all there was was him.

As he kissed and moved you, he whispered if his girls were asleep… that no one was about to wander in from their bedroom. And as much as he wanted to see his babies, his gorgeous girls, he needed their mother more and he would eagerly see them tomorrow morning.  

“Upstairs,” you told him, and he knew that meant homecoming was less raucous than it was when you were both a little young and dumber. No fucking on the couch or your back pressed up against the wall, your thigh in his calloused palm and his slacks dropped to his ankles the second he walked in. Those days were gone, greeting each other so much softer.

You weren’t entirely surprised when his hand smoothed from your side and drifted between your thighs to your delicate core. He tenderly pressed his soft lips into your pulse as his long, slender index finger tenderly skimmed the smooth skin of your pussy. “You feel good,” he breathed gently, so conscious of his voice raising and bringing the kids’ attention downstairs. “I want you. I’ve missed you, sweetheart,” he moved to your lips again and he kissed you the way he did when you first started seeing each other. The way his tongue flicked against your lip, tracing with an edge of demand as you gave in, willingly falling under his spell and kissing him back with the same ferocity.

His strong thigh pressed against your core, and you gasped against his lips, the rough material of his uniform making you heady as he tilted you that little further to almost ride him. 

“Not here,” you told him, guiding his pout to your mouth and leading him by the hand to your bedroom, the master bed, your sanctuary and sometimes the loneliest room in the world when Bradley was away. 

Bradley wasn’t surprised to see a few candles lit in the bedroom either. As you got older, your need for romance seemed to have crept through with the solitude that came along with a husband who served and two little girls who ran you off your feet every day. Bradley, a romantic at heart, unleashed some of the sweetest things that had ever happened to you. He was always big on flowers, and planning sweet dates but physical touch was his love language. 

He was a hand holder, he liked that you were the right height he could rest his lips against your temple and kiss you when close, skilled hands and massage. But it all meant so little in comparison to him holding you tightly in his arms. Something over the years you missed dearly when he was absent, you never felt safer than feeling his warm palm pressed into your lower back, the way his brawny arm would curl around your waist and tuck you into his side.

You were the other’s missing piece and so lucky to have met each other so early in life. 

“Too young to fall in love, too young to get married,” Bradley reiterated all the things you heard all those years ago. “Too young to start a family.”

“They may have been right about the last part.” At 23 and in over your head with a newborn and a husband dedicating his career to defending the country was one thing, it was one of the hardest things you’d ever thrown yourself into, leaving family to move where Bradley’s job required. The other military wives took you under their wing, (s)mothering where they could. And you were so proud of all of Bradley’s achievements, but it didn’t cure the sad nights of solitude once the kids went to bed, and you had time to think about how hard it all is to do alone. 

Bradley huffed a laugh into your ear. “Maybe. But I wouldn’t change anything now.” 

“They never thought we’d last,” you rolled your eyes like you did every time you two embarked on this quiet joke that was now at everyone else who didn’t believe expense.  

“Like I told you. From the moment I met you, it was forever,” he pulled you towards the bed, lightly tossing you towards the pillows with little effort on his behalf, you gave him a look as you adjusted against the soft pillows. “Was I wrong?”

“You’ve been very convincing,” you teased as he playfully rolled his eyes.

“In what way?” he played along.

“Well, you’re a wonderful father.”

He hummed, as he began on the buttons of his shirt. How were you supposed to continue when he was playing a strategic game of rendering his wife speechless? After 15 or so years, his body was more impressive now than the day you met him. It was almost criminal. 

When you met him, a gangly 21-year-old boy who was endeavouring to improve himself, prepare himself for the rigours of being a pilot for the navy. Gym, protein shakes, gym, school. It had been quite a development, watching Bradley grow into the man he is today.

…and you got to reap every single benefit. 

“Just a good dad? Shit…”

“An amazing father and from what I can gather, a pretty fantastic leader.” 

“Captain, Mrs Bradshaw,” he corrected. “But I’ll overlook it this time.” 

You rolled your eyes again, watching his nimble fingers get to the last button and push back the material to – disappointing. An undershirt. He tossed his shirt at you gently, his cologne wafting over your senses. “How many layers you got there, Captain Bradshaw?” 

Eyebrow raised; he kept your gaze as he stripped the second layer that kept you from his golden skin. “Better?”

You didn’t hide your shallow breath. Because yes, your man was only getting finer as he got older. The precision of his well-defined muscles glowing by candlelight, the smattering of freckles across his shoulders and broad chest, abs, abdominals, abs – they seemed to go on and your favourite, his Adonis belt. May as well have been named the Bradley Belt for all you cared, because his was spectacular. You reached the familiar logo of his boxer briefs and slender hips. The snail trail that led to the jackpot. “Better,” you confirmed as he moved to his belt, slacks and zip. “More,” you replied. “I’m practically naked here.”

Bradley’s lip quirked. “I think that tee you’re wearing is at least 10 years old.”

“Sue me, it smells like you when you’re away,” you sniped as he winked cheekily and stepped out of his dropped pants, approaching the bed. 

“I hope you’ve washed it after three months.”

Three months. But yes, you’d begrudgingly washed it. But it was still nice to be wrapped up in something that belonged to him when it wasn’t his arms to keep you safe. “Would have been better if you were here…”

“I know, sweetheart,” he sighed, making his way to the bed and crawling over to you, resting his cheek on your breast, tightening a grasp around your waist. “God, I missed you.”

Smoothing his curls, you tenderly kissed his temple. “No way as much as I did, Bradley.” 

“Were the girls good?” 

“They had their moments, but they’re nearly teenagers…”

“I can’t believe I’m gonna have to start fending dudes off at the door,” Bradley pinched the bridge of his nose, not wanting to believe his baby girls were growing so quickly. Violet was in Grade 7 and Olivia Grade 5. It was hard to miss so much of their lives and sometimes felt like lifetimes between his time at home. But he’d reconciled he would do more time on dry land this year, taking up a training facilitator role on base for new Top Gun recruits. You’d spoken about it for so long and now it looked like he was getting his opportunity to make Friday night basketball games, and swimming on Saturday mornings and whatever else was expected of him. 

“Not long now,” you had to agree but as much as you wanted to tell him everything he’d missed that couldn’t be fit into the couple of minutes you managed to get him every once in a while, you were so desperate for your husband, you didn’t want to play the polite game. “Bradley?”

He hummed again. 

“I want you.” 

Looking up at you, he ran his slick tongue over his top lip. “Well, ma’am, I guess I’d better get to work, huh?” his grin was wet, and he reached to kiss you, so tender and sweet but you knew it was laced with so much more as he rolled you beneath him, propping himself on an elbow and using his free palm to raise your thigh over his hip. His kisses were so good, and you knew you were a keening mess for him… when weren’t you?  

Gasping into his mouth as he lightly walked his fingers to your core, he was bold and spread your lips, taking your arousal, sticky and warm, he pressed your clit and started to rub, just so to relax you. You melted beneath him. After all these years, he knew exactly how to make you a bag of bones. He didn’t need to ask as he pressed his long index finger in, never once breaking the kiss, just increasing the intensity. 

Making out with Bradley while he fingered you. He was going old school. Those days before you slept with him, you’d be tangled together on your shitty single bed, grinding against the other. The first time he dared touch you, how he asked so sweetly if he could try and make you cum, to finger you. When you gave him a shaky yes in reply and opened your legs to him as he slid his long fingers under the waist of your tights, his soft eyes reassuring the panic that washed over you, kissing you tenderly and promising against your lips that he’d stop if you wanted him too. You told him you wanted to because he was Bradley and you’d never met anyone like him, you’d never felt the things he was making you feel. Maybe you had something to prove – to him, to you? You weren’t sure but as Bradley’s big hands slowly tugged your tights down your legs, carelessly discarding them and seeing those pretty pink undies soaked through with your excitement, he breathed, scared he’d cum before he’d touched you. He dared to sweep your undies to the side, your pretty pussy bare and glistening for him. 

He did that, he made you that wet, he thought proudly. He was so excited and popped the button on his jeans, needing to relieve some friction and moved to coax you under his arm, his nose nuzzling against yours. 

“Tell me if you’re uncomfortable or if I need to stop,” he breathed, his gentle rasp calming you as you softly gripped his wrist. 

This wasn’t the first time you’d done this, but with Bradley, it was like you’d never been touched before. He ignited sparks in you that you’d never felt before, no one else’s fingers did this… not even your own. 

“You’re beautiful,” he told you as you pulled a pillow over your eyes, so shy, so bashful. He tossed away the pillow and kissed you, his hand tracing down the side of your body and index finger gathering your excitement to coat your labia and clit. He started slow and asked if you touched yourself or if you had toys. And yes, you had a vibrator that gave you a pretty good impression of what you liked but this was already wildly exceeding anything the vibe brought to the table. “Do you like this?” he was so considerate and when you hitched a breath and told him ‘faster’, the keenness to learn you clouded over and his façade darkened, turned on by you telling him what you liked and he slid another finger into you, trying not to blow his load as you started to cry out, his thumb passing on your thrumming clit and shamed, you held back how much you really wanted to come alive for him.

You knew you couldn’t bite back your moans of pleasure, and as he laughed into your skin, he reached and lifted your sweater and bra, dragging his mouth down to your pretty tits, lapping and licking and sucking as you started the shudder below him. You clawed at his wrist that was buried within you and grinding against you as he toyed with your tits more, kneading and sucking harder. He was gonna blow his load before you even touched him. 

“Oh, Bradley,” your voice was so sweet as you fucked into his hand, quivering and sensitive and wet and desperate as you came. Everything all at once. 

“You’re so sexy,” he crooned with his deep rasp. “I’ve never seen someone cum like this…” He kissed you deeply as you felt the last bursts of electricity flow through your body before flopping into the mattress and urgently pushing his fingers away, too sensitive. He smiled against your lips and told you it was okay, he loved seeing you lose control. 

After you’d cum, and you nervously asked him if you could give him a hand job to return the favour or whatever, he knew he was in love. Young and dumb and no one could tell him differently. How he got to his back and watched as you drag his jeans off and pull down his boxers, his cock so hard, weeping precum. “Tell me if I hurt you,” you mumbled, the most nervous you’d been. “Or if you don’t like it.” 

“You could never hurt me,” he hissed as you used both soft hands to wrap around his length. “That is so fuckin’ good, baby,” he managed, head sinking back into your fluffy pillows, imagining if he was to die tomorrow, he’d die happy. And as he wrapped his hand around yours, showing you the tempo he preferred, he almost came as your wet mouth wrapped around the head of his cock without warning. “Oh, shit,” he hissed unprepared, trying not to fuck your face, his hips wild. He had never been so turned on. 

He’d dated and slept with a few girls, and had a few blowjobs but nothing, nothing felt like this, and he buried his big hands into your hair, massaging and encouraging you as best he could. He screeched a warning he was coming and to take your mouth away if you didn’t want to taste him. When you didn’t relinquish your sweet mouth on him, he came hard in the back of your throat and you swallowed the salty flavour of him down, he pulled you to him and kissed you deeply, telling you he thought he was in love and, silently, he hoped you were too. 

“That was the best head I ever had,” he peered up. “And you’ve never given a blow job before?” he was suspicious. You shook your head bashfully, but also excited he was so happy with your attempt, and you vowed you’d only get better if it brought out this reaction in him. “Feel free any time you wanna practice,” he almost laughed, falling back against the headrest of the bed.

A few hours later, as Bradley pounded into you, you’d be lying if you didn’t feel nostalgic, recalling the first time you had sex with him. It never felt like plain old missionary with him, he tucked you in close and you’d wrap your calves around his hamstrings, keeping him close as he whispered filth in your ear. 

You knew you’d bled, and you were begging not noticeably. You didn’t want that embarrassment, even if the towel caught it. Overall, it wasn’t a painful experience, Bradley had done everything to relax you, the slick of the lube reducing any real friction and he’d gone down on you before he’d even taken off his jeans. “You have the prettiest pussy, baby,” he told you as you shuddered beneath him and he continued fucking you with his fingers until you pushed his face away, so sensitive. “Okay, okay,” he cooed to you, trailing wet kisses up your naked body, exposed wholly to him. 

It had been a very fun few weeks, lots of kissing, touching, and making the other cum and sneaky sleepovers but when you told him you were ready to have sex – with him – your first – Bradley couldn’t believe his luck. He couldn’t believe you would be interested in him, you were so sweet, and kind, and pretty. So sexy and he hoped, all for him. He hadn’t met anyone who he felt so connected to. He worried he was trying too hard to force something that wasn’t there, but as he slowly pushed into you, gloved cock long and girthy, stretching you and you sighed into his ear to tell him how good it felt and that you thought you were falling in love with him, everything stopped.

His hips, lips and heart froze as he must have misheard words he was desperate to return but far too timid to do so. 

“Remember the days we’d be in bed all day and just fuck and laugh. Order takeout and fuck again?” Bradley said between the rolls of his hips. “I wanna be able to do that again,” he groaned in your ear as you fuckingthrobbed around him, so close as you clenched. “I’m gonna take you away in the New Year. You, me, the Maldives. Private villa and all that good lovin’ we deserve.”

“You’re gonna make me cum,” you giggled against him, excited for him and the prospect that you would spend some uninterrupted time together and you rose to meet his thrusts, spurring him on with your enthusiasm. He felt so good: strong, rough and as the head of his cock hit your G-spot, a step closer to orgasm – heaven, he wasn’t sure. He knew your body like it was his, and he brought his fingers between your bodies, brushing against your pained clit as your back arched and his tongue swirled around your nipple. He sucked on the delicate skin, as you began to quake and grunted low, your warm, slick pussy. “Yes, Bradley,” you encouraged. 

“Your pretty cunt was made for me,” he murmured in your ear and that was it, you felt the quakes start in your toes, the muscles in your tummy start to coil and your pussy started to throb around his cock, your entire body on fire with desire for your sexy husband. “Yes, baby,” Bradley kissed you deeply, trying to concentrate on his thrusts but it was impossible as he made you feel so goddamn good. He raised your thigh to get that little rougher and you moaned, the gush fell between you both and he grunted, not giving you a moment of respite, chasing his orgasm. You fell back, completely spent as he laughed darkly, his cock rocking into you again, wrapping his palm around your waist and pulling you back to him. “So close, don’t give up on me now, sweetheart. You’re so fuckin’ wet.”

“Too sensitive,” you whined to him. “Cum, Bradley,” you begged.

It was low and powerful, the feral groan that met your demands. His hips sped up, desperate for release. He couldn’t hold back anymore and as your nails pierced the tanned skin on his back, he came with a low groan and fucked more unruly thrusts into you before collapsing above you, kissing you wildly. He gasped, completely spent, still in you without intent to move. “Gonna need to burn the bed,” he uttered to you as you barely managed a reply. It was fucking like that you missed so desperately when he was away. 

“That was incredible,” you said, kissing some sweat on his brow away. “I love you.” 

He chuckled into your skin, pressing kisses into your pulse. “I love you, baby,” he was a dream, this man. “Good job, team,” he raised his palm for a limp high-five, both spent. 

“Roll the dice,” you reiterate to Bradley. “If we get pregnant, great. If we don’t…”

“It’s you and me and we are great with that,” Bradley answered with the faintest glint of hope in his shining honey eyes. Was this happening? Was Bradley about to get the family he’d been missing for so long?!

But in the back of the afterglow of lovemaking as husband and wife, you’d told him you’d go off birth control after your honeymoon if he wanted to try for a baby so soon. You didn’t want it to be immediate, you wanted to enjoy being married and the fun that came with it. And Bradley wholeheartedly agreed. 

Bradley was so determined to rise through the ranks, that you didn’t want to detract him any more than you might have but you were young and in love and when you found out you were pregnant with your first baby, a girl to be named Violet. The thing was, you were only hoping to be a newlywed once - marriage wasn't as big a thing for you as it was for Bradley so the drama of it all (even as intimate as it was for you was a one-time deal). And even babies. But even he admitted he wouldn't have the first idea of how to do it since his dad wasn't around when he was growing up and Maverick wasn't exactly a glowing example of fatherhood. 

He was a smitten young man. A beautiful wife, and a gorgeous little girl waiting at home for him while he served his country and continued slowly but surely through the ranks, getting a reputation as Rooster, slow into the fight.

Or Rooster, and the size of his cock, you’d joked quietly one evening. The way he seemed so scandalised and as the devil crept into his gold eyes, the grin behind his growing moustache was seen to be believed. Not many people knew that about the version of it, you shared, and when you’d learned he’d been adorned with it, whoever gave him the callsign would rue the day of the double entendre. One of life’s funny coincidences and Bradley wouldn’t wipe the devious smile off his face when you’d christened him with it.

When Violet was three, you found out Olivia was going to come into the world punching. Now both tweens and the baby-making days were well behind you both, you felt like you were starting to live your lives again, not bogged down with school runs, weeknight ballet, gymnastics, basketball, softball, soccer and whatever else they were desperate to try. Both athletic like their father, you felt like a taxi when Bradley was away, running the girls from one thing to the next, the sweet solace sometimes found when both girls were away from home at sleepovers and the like.

They were the nights you couldn’t wait to introduce to Bradley. A date night, Jesus, wine on the couch uninterrupted for a drop-off or pick up to what was for dinner or “Mama, I have an assignment due tomorrow and I haven’t started.”

Recalling when your period was late after about two cycles after going off birth control, you kind of hoped it was the drama of irregular periods and what it brought. It was why you went on the pill in the first place in your teens. 

But there was something different while you channel surfed and Bradley cooked in the kitchen. A strange cramping in your tummy. Not unbearable, but noticeable as you sat up, a little perplexed. It was too early for a period and you weren’t ovulating. Popping up, you joined Bradley in the kitchen, wrapping your arms around his hips to kiss between his shoulder blades. He smiled, turning back for a quick peck before you quietly excused yourself to do a pregnancy test. And you weren’t entirely surprised when it revealed you were 1-2 weeks pregnant. And you weren’t entirely surprised when you showed him the positive pregnancy test after dinner that still certainly said PREGNANT in fat, bold letters.

“It tells you how many weeks?” Bradley was astonished. 

“Clever, huh?” you said quietly. Bradley watched you, he looked at the test, begging it wasn’t about to flash NOT PREGNANT and he’d read incorrectly – but he gazed back at you. Unreadable at best, erring on the side of too quiet. Reserved, he had trouble reading you sometimes, and this was one he'd need you to talk through. He needed to know exactly what was going on through your head. 

“You good?” he asked softly, grasping the test in his strong palm. It was so small, but it held his world in his grip. He put the test down to caress your jaw, forcing your gaze to him. “Baby…” his fingers light as they had sunk into the hair at the nape of your neck. “Sweetheart,” he called to you. 

“I think I am. It’s just… quick," you surrender, falling into his sound touch. And he was due to leave within weeks. You were 23, you had only just found the job of your dreams -

“It is quick,” Bradley agreed, kissing your hair. “Is it too quick?”

“Maybe…” you admitted as he pressed a kiss into your temple and wrapped his strong arms around you. He felt so warm and so protective as he held you without question, you really couldn’t imagine life without him right there. What if something happened on tour, what if - 

“If it’s too soon, that’s okay," he said softly. 

You looked up at him, trying to placate your growing fear. What if he never came home? “I just thought we’d have more time maybe.”

He bit back his smile and sighed. “Sweetheart, is this what you want? If you're not ready - if you have changed your mind - ”

“I’m not sure.”

He nodded. “That’s okay.”

Well, it wasn’t – it was a choice you’d actively made together. To make love, to make a baby. The liberty of changing your mind seemed so incredibly unfair to you and Bradley after you were both so sure this was what you wanted. “I think I just need some time,” you admitted, cutting him off. “Just to get used to it all happening.”

Bradley softened. He in no way felt like it was his place to speak. He could not hold you and whisper that whatever you decided was okay, and he would support you with anything you decided. 

“What if this is our only chance?” You asked quietly. “What if - ” You shut your mouth and the guilt of the situation started to overwhelm you, Bradley chose to remain mute. “Would you hate me?”

“No. Oh sweetheart,” he kissed your hair. “But I would never live with myself if I forced you to do something you weren’t ready for. Come,” he took your hands and led you to the bedroom. He helped you take off your clothes and change into your oversized nightie, his large palm lingering gently over your abdomen for just a second longer than he should have… his baby in your soft belly. 

He pulled back the duvet and patted your pillow. You snuck under the cold sheets and he climbed in after you, the scorching skin of his chest against your back. His fingertips traced your hip, slowly drawing his name on your skin. "If you don't want to do this, it's okay. But it's still something you'll need to consider..."

"I want this," you were able to say, but it was easier with him not boring his eyes into yours. He kissed your shoulder and nuzzled the nape of your neck. “I think…”

"I love you," he said so softly you almost didn't hear him. “I won't let you do this alone. Whatever you decide, I’m right there with you.” 

But with a belly of arms and legs and your sheepish husband standing before you a few months later, you screeched, "You're getting deployed?" you looked at Bradley, eyes wild, six months of baby belly all that separated you. His head fell back.

"I know."

"You know?" you mimicked sarcastically, spoiled for months of your husband home with flight and combat training simulations and he finds himself deployed as you enter your final trimester. "Bradley, you'll be away for the birth of your daughter." 

"I know..." he said a little meeker. He was sick about this conversation. Sick. 

"Did you not put in the leave paperwork?"

"Of course I did,” he did, he did. Didn’t he? Shit, he doubted himself for one second but in this instance knew beggars couldn’t be choosers and he had his leave approved, but he also had his orders and he was so close really getting into it.

His career was on such a sheer trajectory, his head was swimming with its force. 

“Is anyone going with you?”

"Payback, Phoenix," he confirmed softly. 

“Will you be home for Christmas?”

He nodded. “Yes,” he stepped towards you, his large palms sinking into the round belly under his grasp, tickling the stretching skin. You sighed and collapsed into his hold. 

“I’m just scared. The birth is one thing… but I can’t raise our baby on my own,” you said, the fear in your voice evident.

“And I’d never let you,” he whispered into your hair. 

"If you see one ounce of action, I swear, don't dare come home." 

He nodded. Dear God, he knew. 

“Come on, Mama, give it to me,” Bradley urged as he held your ribs, thumbs toying with your nipples, that delicate roll of your hips grinding down on him as the sun started to rise. Neither of you slept even though you were both exhausted, you wanted to ground yourselves together before the madness of the day commenced. Between lovemaking, different positions and so much mess, you just chatted quietly, catching the other up on what they missed, knowing full well you would be next to useless for the lunch Penny was putting on with Mav (you were flying out in a few days to spend New Year with your parents). “Look at you, as sexy as the day I met you,” he continued, chewing his lower lip – he was close but we wouldn’t cum until you did. “Pretty little thing.”

Bradley had leaned into the whole encouragement during sex – and you will credit him for bringing out a wilder side you never knew you had in you – his voice still made your stomach flip flop and how off, give him everything he deserved in your shared pleasure and more.

“Mama, is Daddy home?” you heard a screech from upstairs. Olivia. Daddy’s girl. “His bag is at the door!” A prompise Bradley had always made his girls was he would wake them even if it was the dead of night to reassure them he was home.

Last night… he did not.

Bradley’s eyes flicked open as you paused above him, knowing your girls were unlikely to burst in but also… Dad was home and maybe, just maybe they were likely to run in excitedly. He rolled you off him quickly and you landed with such a lack of grace that he snorted and he tossed his tee at you, hitting you square in the face. He scoffed another chuckle as he reached for his discarded boxer briefs and stood to height, still hard but if you knew him, visualising the worst of the worst to settle. “I’m home. I’ll be right out, just need to hit the bathroom, girls,” he carefully called back, starting for the door and snuck a look back at you. “You got five minutes; I know I can’t hold those two wildcats back from a tree with presents under it.”

You nodded with a grin as you pulled the shirt over your head and moved towards the en suite but not before changing direction and stopping him before he went to see his girls and pulling an old Lakers singlet over his – god, so many golden muscles. “Merry Christmas, Bradley,” you tenderly traced an ab or eight and he smiled, bending to kiss you. “Last night was so good. Been a while since we had a night like that.”

He chuckled lightly against your lips. Pride evident, he shrugged. “I miss the days we’d fuck for hours,” he sighed, low. “We’re going away, just you and me. Okay?”

“I can’t wait, handsome,” you told him as he kissed you again -

“Dad?” Violet now. 

“At ease, Captain,” you told him as he playfully did as instructed, kissed your forehead softly and let the reign of terror commence, greeting his darling girls after months apart with excited hugs, kisses and giggles.

“I missed my girls,” you heard Bradley rumble. And it was always the same, the way he’d swallow back the emotion of seeing how much he’d missed. “You two have to stop growing, okay?”

“Or you could stop traveling,” Olivia said, often quite vocal about how often her dad was away.

Hearing your name as you straightened in front of the mirror a few minutes later, brushing your mussed hair and impatient with the slight burn Bradley’s moustache caused on your upper lip (pussy and thighs but that was a tale for another day), you wrapped yourself in your light gown. You breathed and headed to the living room to start your Christmas morning, your girls perched in front of the tree, the lights still fading in and out after a night left on, and your husband safe and sound on the couch. He winked, the happiest man on the planet with his three girls, everything exactly where it belonged.

Even last night’s half-full wine glass.

[hitomisuzuya]

soft smut with scara? Xmas themed?

poor name is just so tired from working overtime at her little bakery, she’s forgotten all about Christmas!

she’s had such a bad day.. she first spilt hot cocoa all over herself, it was her only cup too! And then she accidentally burnt a client’s cookies, to which they were very angry and said some mean things.

but the worst of all, she couldn’t see her love. On Christmas Eve, She had gotten him a few early presents like the most decadent, non-sweet tea, and other things he liked, before her big surprise ;), but it didn’t seem like he liked it..

she comes home, groggy and sad. Only to see the house dimly lit, smelling like roses. Maybe because of the rose petals leading to her and Scara’s shared bedroom.

she goes in, it’s dark. She then feels a pair of arms wrap around her waist..

Hjehe giggling as I type this ppl on the train think I’m going crazy!! >_< merry Christmas I love love loveeee you!!!!

Scaramouche x fem!reader. Soft smut. Cunnilingus. Soft Scara. Lighthearted ending❤️

Merry Christmas, everyone!

You didn't think Christmas would ever suck so much. You didn't think it was possible since it was supposed to be a warm holiday that promoted good cheer and what not.

Your whole body was sore, and your eyes felt puffy from crying. You could understand that the customer got angry about your burning their cookies, but they didn't need to say some of the mean things they said.

Your heart was hurting from not being able to see Scaramouche on Christmas. After work, you'd been determined to try and go out and find him better gifts since you couldn't really tell if he'd even liked ones you'd gotten him already.

And the one thing you thought you'd be allowed to enjoy, your hot chocolate, was all over your shirt.

You were defeated, wanting to cry when you walked in the door. The tears welled even faster when you saw Scaramouche wasn't here. Or at least that's what you thought until you looked down.

Huh? Rose petals? There was whole trail of them leading down the hall to your shared bedroom door. Swiping some tears away with your hand, you followed them.

Scaramouche knew you'd had a bad day. One of his friends had been in the shop while the customer was yelling at you and relayed what had happened. (And he'd spent the day kicking himself for not expressing himself better receiving your gifts).

You felt his arms wrap around you from behind. Immediately words came tumbling from your mouth. "Scara, I'm sorry you didn't like your gifts, and there was this awful customer today," He felt your body shake a little in his arms.

"Hush," He said, pressing soft kisses on your neck, "Let's just get you out of these clothes so I can take care of you," He turned you around to face him, gently cupping your jaw as he pressed a gentle kiss on your lips.

Scaramouche's hands were soft and delicate, raising goosebumps on your skin and making you shiver. He tugged your shirt off, kissing a line down each of your shoulders as he slid the straps of your bra down.

He could feel you relaxing under his touches as he took off your bra and dispensed with the rest of your clothes. Picking you up bridal style in his arms, he carried you over to the bed and gently set you down, making sure the pillows were propped comfortably around you.

Scaramouche kissed and licked a line down your stomach. He kissed the inside of your thighs as he spread your legs. A breathy sigh of pleasure sounded from you as he swept his tongue on your clit.

He wasn't concerned with getting his own clothes off. That could come later. He was more concerned with taking care of you. His licks were slow, and languid, his thumbs skimming over the insides of your thighs lovingly as your hips jerked up in response to the sudden pleasure building.

Scaramouche was a pro at building up slow, intense orgasms. He knew exactly how to lick and suck your pussy, swirling his tongue between your walls until you were mewling and moaning. He caressed your hips, wanting you to lose yourself in the pleasure his mouth was giving you.

Your hands found the back of his head, tangling your fingers in his hair. Your hips bucked into his mouth, eagerly seeking friction on your swollen clit. He could see the shy blush dusting your cheeks. It was cute you were embarrassed by how loud you were getting.

"It's okay, let it all out. Relax and let me make you cum on my tongue, my pretty girl," He purred encouragement, latching his lips onto your clit. You gasped in pleasure behind your moans, pressing his mouth onto your cunt.

You were melting in bliss, all the pain and stress of the day washed away and replaced with strong jolts of pleasure. It was exactly what you needed and what Scaramouche wanted.

Your eyes closed, feeling your orgasm build up tighter with every swirl and suck on your clit. "Sc-ara.. Scaramouche.." You could barely moan his name coherently.

He could feel in the way your body twitched as you writhed that you close to cumming hard. He groaned in bliss as you pressed his mouth onto your cunt again.

"Cum for me, my sweet girl," Scaramouche purred, pushing two fingers inside of you straight up into your sweet spot, "you deserve it."

That was the the encouragement that you needed. You let out a soft scream of pleasure as your orgasm suddenly hit you. His tongue eagerly lapped your release, kitten licking your clit to nurse you through your orgasm.

You were panting and shaking by the time to sat up and wiped his mouth. He'd spoiled you with his mouth, now it was time to spoil you with his cock. But first, "By the way," He took a piece of paper out his pocket and handed it to you, "I had a..friendly chat with that asshole customer earlier. Not only did they pay for the burned batch of cookies, they paid double for a dozen more."

You wondered what exactly he meant by friendly chat.

[gaymaramada]

hey so how do you think the rottmnt brothers would deal with having a crush where the boys ask crush what they want for xmas? And crush just holds up a cardboard sign that suddenly appears out of nowhere that says “All I want for xmas is you” and a ? At the end. They smoothly asking the turtles out via xmas and Mariah carey song breaching containment and it playing everywhere. Crush saw their chance and took it

OMG THIS IS SO FUNNNN YES!!!!!

Managed to bang this one out on the big day! Happy holidays everyone! ❤️

Confessing to the Rise! Boys on Christmas

Christmas-centered, GN reader + pronouns

Leonardo

He doesn’t know what’s better: the fact that you’re asking him out, the fact that you’re doing it through Mariah Carey, or the fact that you must be a magician because whERE DID THAT SIGN EVEN COME FROM???

You can practically see the fireworks going off in his head as he bites his lip to keep a giddy grin at bay.

But he’s still Leo, so he’s gotta be cool about this.

“Y’know, I’m a little disappointed you didn’t sing the song…”

You raise your phone to reveal the song already pulled up and smugly press play on the song in question.

And he buckles over in laughter.

You two spend the evening watching Love Actually in honor of the cardboard sign bit.

Donatello

Ah! A silly reference! How quaint!

Doesn’t answer his question though.

His love language is gift-giving after all, and the concept of himself being a gift (while flattering) is far too vague for him to go off of.

You’re just gonna have to tell him word for word that this is a confession, okay?

The moment it hits him, he is — for the first time in his life — rendered speechless.

He’ll just stare at you blankly for a solid minute before stepping out of the room and doing that thing Ken did in the Barbie movie where he just goes

“SUBLIME!”

He comes back out as gracefully as ever and takes your hand,

“While it would have saved the both of us some time had you deterred from the theatrics, I cannot deny the amusing charm of your request. If all you desire is my company… I’d be happy to provide.”

(He does still want to get/make you something physical for the holidays, though)

Raphael

Oh you better believe he is elated.

My guy is so bashful and smiley it’s almost too cute.

“You— wha— me?? Aw, c-come on, Y/N, you’re making Raph blush…”

He does try to laugh it off as a simple reference to the song, but when you continue to insist that you’re being completely serious, his face begins to match his mask.

He looks up to you so much (except physically, of course :p) so the idea that you value him just as much gets him emotional.

He’s embarrassed by his Lovesick Stink, but you don’t mind it!

Once the initial surprise wears off, Raph gets much more confident and even a bit cocky when it comes to the two of you.

“Oh, yeah? Well guess what, little brother, I don’t even need to try to impress anyone because Y/N just loves Raph for Raph! And Raph feels the same about them!”

Michelangelo

“🎶 I DON’T WANT A LOT FOR CHRISTMAS, THERE IS JUST ONE THING I NEED—🎶”

You should have known he’d start to sing, let’s be real.

Of course, then he complains afterwards that the song is stuck in his head.

After a short karaoke session, you tell him your answer again, gentler this time, and it clicks.

Mikey’s eyes sparkle as he breaks into a huge grin before pulling you into a hug.

“OHMIGOSH Y/N!!! Aww, I want to be with you for Christmas, too!!”

And of course you two spend the holiday making different kinds of crafts and sweets.

Gingerbread houses, ornaments, paper wreaths, peppermint bark, you name it.

The whole fam is excited about your creations, and you and Mikey lace your fingers together, proud to have made the holiday special for both each other and everyone else.

[musings-of-a-rose]

I'm having a Sparks and Benny thought here. Based on this pic. Both of them arrive at home from a Xmas party at Will's. Things got hot really quick.

Note this was supposed to be in your ask box. I messaged ya this thought. My bad! Holiday brain!

The Party

Pairing: Benny Miller x “Sparks” f!reader

Word Count: 1300+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: I miss the HELL out of these 2 so please continue to send in anything! Also I’m changing this up to a New Year’s Party because I couldn’t finish it in time for Christmas. And then I was even more late! Thank you for being so patient and waiting!! (This was not beta read)

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Light Me Up Masterlist

Benny Miller Masterlist

“Did we really have to dress all fancy?” Benny whines, rolling his shoulders to shift the suit jacket a little. 

“It’s Will and Makayla’s first New Year’s living together and they wanted to be fancy,” I explain as I knock on the door to Will and Makayla’s place.

“I guess.”

“Plus, it’s my first as Mrs. Miller and I wanted to look pretty.”

Benny’s eyes soften as he looks me, the edges of his gaze darkening. “You’re always gorgeous, Mrs. Miller.” He grips my hips and pulls me to him, releasing one hand to tip my chin up, kissing me softly, the heat slowly warming.

“Get your own porch, asshole.” Will had opened the door and was standing there smirking. 

“You’re right. I’ll just take my wife home then,” Benny pulls me in the direction of his jeep. 

“Nice try. Makayla would kill me if you guys didn’t show up. Come on in.” He opens the door wide and motions for us to enter, fist bumping Benny as he walks past. 

Makayla had gone all out, everything sparkling in silver, gold, and black, like a modern day Gatsby party. People had already arrived and Benny steers me towards Frankie and Monica, Santi off in the corner making out with a girl, whom I shockingly recognize. 

“Is Santi with the same girl he brought to the bar a month ago?” I whisper to Frankie and Monica. 

She nods. “Yeah! I think this one is sticking around, surprisingly enough.”

We chat with them for a bit, Makayla flitting over for a few minutes before being whisked away on a champagne emergency. The music is going, some people getting up to dance. Will recruits Benny to help him with something in the kitchen, so I pull Monica onto the dance floor, whispering to her that we’re going to be menaces to our respective husbands. 

We start dancing to the upbeat song, hands on each others hips as we sway and move to the song, her spinning me around so my back is flush with her front. And that’s when I see him, Benny, emerging from the kitchen and freezing, his eyes on me as I dance. Judging by the light chuckle in my ear from Monica, I’m guessing she caught Frankie’s eye too.

“Wanna torture them some more, Sparks?” She says close to my ear.

“Hell yeah.”

I follow her lead, moving my body as she guides me, our hips moving in tandem as she pulls me closer to her. For good measure, I lift my arm, wrapping it around the back of her head, trying not to giggle when she squeezes just a little too much on my inner hips. And then the song ends, Monica and I laughing as she hugs me.

“That was way too much fun, Sparks.”

“Yeah it was. Did you see their-”

Suddenly, Monica was ripped from my grasp, Frankie’s hand firmly clamped around her upper arm, a smirk and a wink tossed my way from her as he steers her away through the group of people. 

“You think you’re so funny, don’t you?” Benny had snuck up behind me, his hands now on my hips, his nose nuzzling in my hair as he speaks low in my ear. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was dancing, good sir.”

He chuckles and it makes goosebumps pop up down my arm. “Yeah. Dancing. Sure.” He  makes to pull me away, to find some secluded spot but then Will clanks a spoon on a glass and everyone turns, Benny groaning a little too loud so I elbow him softly in the ribs. 

Will puts his arm around Makayla next to him before speaking. “I just want to thank everyone for coming. We’re so excited to share our first New Year’s Eve with everyone we love and we’ve been working hard- ok. Makayla has been working hard. I just do what she says,” laughing flits around the group as Makayla playfully slaps his chest, leaving her hand on his toned pec. “But seriously. Thank you guys. Here’s to another great year!”

—----

The toast was had, the ball was dropped, the midnight kiss was a little too risque between you and Benny, Will not so covertly throwing an empty Solo cup at Benny’s head. 

“Ugh I’ve been dying to take these shoes off all night!” I groan, kicking my heels off and plopping down in one of our comfy chairs. 

“You looked hot though.”

“That’s the price of fashion. Pain.”

He chuckles as he removes his jacket, revealing that he wore a simple, plain black shirt underneath it, the fabric stretching and pulling as he tosses the jacket on the back of the couch and sits with a sigh. I look over at him, feeling warm watching his movements.

“Did..did you really wear a black t-shirt under your dress jacket?”

Benny looks down at his shirt, his eyebrows pulled together. “Should I not have?”

“No, no. I think it works.”

He brushes his chest and I almost come unglued. “Good.”

“Wanna see what’s under mine?”

His big blue eyes snap to mine. “Fuck yeah I do.”

I get up, standing in front of him as I pull my dress over my head, hearing his sharp intake of breath as I reveal his favorite lingerie set on me, complete with black garter belts.

“You…you had this on the whole time?”

I nod, moving to straddle him. He grips my hips, sliding his hands up to my ribs as he kisses my chest, his mustache tickling my skin causing me to chuckle. But then he grips me tight, standing abruptly and sets me in the chair, draping each of my legs over the arms of the chair. He kneels, his eyes dark and all-consuming as he stares between my legs. 

“Can you buy new underwear?”

“I think so.”

I barely get my reply out before he grips my panties, ripping the part that covers me, tucking the ripped ends up. His large hands squeeze my inner thighs and before I can say anything, his mouth is on me, warm and lapping, my legs trying to squeeze around him. He holds me open, his fingers digging deeper into my skin as I moan his name, electric sparks rolling over me as his tongue changes patterns. One of my hands grips the chair and the other moves to his hair, tugging hard and whining when his growl vibrates me. 

“Oh fuck! Ben, I -” The sounds he pulls from me are loud and grateful, Benny leaving his mouth on me to work me down. But I don’t have time to relax as he stands, pulling me up only to spin me, pushing my upper back down, the sound of a zipper loud in the quiet apartment. He drags himself through the wetness between my thighs before pushing and I slap the chair, trying to find something, anything to grip.

“Can’t believe you were wearing this the whole night and didn’t tell me,” Benny pants behind me, setting a rougher pace just hear the panted whines tumble from my lips. 

My hands scramble, still trying to find purchase as he presses harder, faster, but then he folds himself over me, engulfing me from behind, his large hands sliding down my arms, his fingers lacing with mine, holding my hands as he continues to push in further. I turn my head to the side, feeling myself hurtle towards the edge again as he brushes against that spot at the back of me. 

“Oh fuck, Benny! Please..please!” I come, tightening around him, his breaths panting out across my neck as he buries his face, turning his head slightly to bite my shoulder as he comes, his hips pushing in a few more times as he releases. His bite turns to kisses, nuzzling into my hair before he whispers.

“I love you, Sparks.”

I manage to finally catch my breath. “Don’t you mean Mrs. Miller?”

“Fuck!” He pulls out but stands, picking me up to throw me over his shoulder with a squeal as he stomps down the hallway, spending the next few hours showing me exactly what being called Mrs. Miller does to him.

—----

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[maxipad032]

mornings with you (18+)

synopsis: you and shuri’s steamy morning after you had spent a passionate night together the day before.

contains: smut, thigh riding, light degradation, praising, cunnilingus, shuri x black reader, filth x

usana- baby, musa ukuyeka- dont stop

here’s a xmas present, enjoy loves x

it was so warm.

your body felt like it was melting into the sheets below. you weren’t even fully awake at this point, but you didn’t have to be because your subconscious could feel everything for you. without opening your eyes, you could tell morning had arrived and you mentally smiled, so excited for what the day will bring. slowly, you joined back with your physical self and could feel the undeniable presence behind you, your beautiful girlfriend shuri. her warm breath tickled the back of your neck as she slept and snored softly, a lazy arm resting over your stomach to hold your nude bodies close together.

the memories of last night came flooding back to you, her arrival back in wakanda, your romantic date she’d planned, her gifts, the passionate lovemaking, her embrace, shit…her hips, god her hips thrusting into you, making you feel every fucking inch of her strap. the thoughts made your inner thighs warm and you began to stir awake. your eyelids felt heavy, but you made the effort to finally open them, in which you immediately closed them again because the bright light streaming into the room nearly blinded you. laughing to yourself, you tried again but slowly this time, giving your eyes time to adjust. you blinked a few times and looked around shuri’s huge, royal looking ass bedroom.

you sighed to yourself.

it was so cosy and nice, you wish to wake up to this everyday but that would mean marrying shuri, which is something you really wanted to do, but to think of wakanda’s reaction to your secret relationship makes your stomach turn; it could be positive or negative, you didn’t really want to know. you shift away slightly to stretch until you feel a sharp tug on your stomach, which was shuri pulling you back into her, “where are you going baby?” she asked sleepily, with her raspy morning as her eyes twitched, but stayed closed nonetheless, semi-sleeping.

god, she sounded so hot.

you bit your lip again and rubbed your thighs together, “nowhere.” you replied, turning around to face a drowsy shuri. you hugged her and shuffled closer into her open arms, stuffing yourself into the crevice of her neck as she hugged you back to take a little whiff of your recently shampooed hair.

“mm, i missed you.” you said, taking in shuri’s musky scent that never failed to make you feel safe all the time. shuri hummed in response and finally opened her eyes to look down at you through her hooded eyelids, licking her lips that twisted into a lazy smile, “i’m right here love.” she hugged you tighter, her soft skin feeling heavenly against yours. you pecked the bottom of her chin, but saw that her neck was open and available so you took your chance to slowly suck on the smooth melanated skin, whilst you settled your hand on her broad shoulders. you could feel her tense up under you, but eventually relax as you aggravated the piece of skin with your ardent sucking. you took your time to slowly kiss up her long neck further, leaving small pecks along her sharp jawline that could practically cut you. she breathed lowly as you intensified your kissing, pushing her back with your hands still against her firm shoulders, so that she was flat on the bed as you straddled her.

you paused your actions to admire her graceful features, the evident glow of her melanin skin being accentuated by the natural light invading the room, her coily hair sprawled out on the silk pillow underneath as her torso remained bare from the night before, as you both didn't bother to put your clothes back on after your quite hot...session. you then looked the dark red mark you left as shuri’s eyes moved down to stare at your plump lips with a longing gaze. smirking, you leaned in to settle your torso on top of shuri’s, so your nipples brushed against hers ever so slightly, and tilted your head to initiate a slow kiss. you felt the both of shuri’s large hands clasp your waist and bring you closer, eventually roaming further down as the kiss deepened. without knowing, you found yourself grinding down onto shuri’s toned body as you ached for more. you moaned lasciviously into her mouth as shuri gave your ass a harsh slap whilst groping it simultaneously under the covers, guiding your movements; you loved how rough she got when turned on. shuri then wrapped her muscular arms around your waist and pulled you up closer so her leg was between yours. you tried to hold yourself steady but the addicting sensation of her slender body moving in sync against yours, gave you the sweet friction you needed and made you weak in the knees, “you started this usana.” she whispered sensually against your lips as you breathed raggedly, eyes closed, mouth slightly agape as you were lost in your own impending pleasure,

“mm honey, i know.” you grinned slyly and grabbed both sides of her neck, slamming your lips back against hers as you ran your free hand through her soft curls and the other caressing shuri’s petite chest, making her hips buck up automatically from the sensitivity of it all. not all mornings were like this, it was mostly shuri waking up really early to do tech projects, working out, or daily prayer, and you oversleeping, but if you woke up to shuri every morning, i’m sure all you’d want to do is fuck her there and then. suddenly, you felt her thigh move back and forth under your already-throbbing core which made you bite your lip hard and run your hand through your black locks, “oh, fuck shuri.” you said, just loud enough for her to hear. your eyes were shut but you could tell she had a silly grin on her face. you could feel yourself getting wetter as you selfishly rubbed yourself up against her thigh, chasing any high that you could get that, "how dirty, you like riding my thigh like that, huh?" shuri muttered in her gravelly voice that really just brought out the slutty side of you. you felt your face flush in shame, but you didn't care, it felt so fucking good and shuri knew it too as she felt a damp spot forming on her naked thigh as you slid against it.

"mmm, yes shuri, mmm yes." you babbled, holding down and gripping the satin sheets next to you, that were completely off the both of you at this point. shuri was getting increasingly aroused seeing you behave and move in such a explicit way in front of her and it was driving her crazy; she would never get enough of your body, literally never. swiftly, she gripped the back of your neck with her left hand and used her right hand to fondle the supple flesh of your boob, rolling the stiff nub skilfully between her fingers as her thigh moved with you against your aching clit, "ah, shit baby yes." you huffed breathlessy, as shuri pulled your neck towards her to to connect your lips once again as your hips moved more fervently once you felt the familiar feeling of your orgasm rolling up.

"you gonna cum for me babygirl?" she asked, the pet name rolling smoothly off her tongue as she watched you become more unhinged under her touch, and your melodic moans become even more high-pitched, "ngh, ah yes shuri, for you, for you." you rambled further, wrapping an arm around shuri's neck as your hand settled on her abs to grind aginst her harder and faster. her eyes were dark with desire as she saw how badly you wanted to release. being the sly mf she is, shuri interrupted your activites and pushed you back onto the bed, so she was ontop of you. in surprise, you stared up at her and whined at the lack of friction she’d caused.

"lemme help you ma." she smirked, and her hands slid down your body, tracing along your pretty stretchmarks and then hovering over your heat. you gulped in anticipation and raised your hips so your pussy met her hands, "patience baby, patience." she said that, but still gave you what you wanted anyways because of the pained expression on your face. she used the pads of her two fingers to feel down your pussy, picking up so much slick on the way.

"look at how wet you are." she raised her hand up and splayed her fingers to show you how your wetness completely coated them, distributing across her long fingers. embarrassed, you quickly looked away, "please shuri.." you begged, not wanting to wait any longer before your pre-orgasm completely went away.

"mm, fine." she put her left arm by the side of your head and used your slick to guide her two fingers inside of your soaked cunt, "ahh.." you sighed slowly as she eased herself inside you, opening you up and getting you loose, "yeah, that's it, take it all." shuri whispered, watching as her fingers completely disappeared inside of you. you held your hands up to your face as you adjusted until you then felt the jolting sensation of her jabbing right against your spot as her two fingers scissored inside of you, curling slightly to perfectly hit it.

"fuck!" you yelped, so loud, the whole palace probbaly heard it. your back arched in response to her incredible fingers and your head whipped to the side, gripping the streets tightly to keep in any lewd moans threatening to escape. however, your attempt was a fail and you ended up crumbling "yes! agh shit baby, right there." shuri's wrist began to ache, but her pace didnt halter and remained fast and sharp, hitting all the right places, your right places. tears pricked at your eyes as it felt too good, and the previous feeling of your orgasm was coming back, spreading out from the depths of your abdomen like bolts of electricity, all the way to your toes. instinctively, your hand shot out to hold shuri’s wrist to get her to go a bit slower, but she wasn’t having it. she picked up your hand with her left free hand and slammed it besides your head, continuing to fuck into you roughly. her palm purposefully slapped your clit after each thrust of her fingers, bringing you closer to the edge of your long awaited release. it was there, you could feel it coming.

"fuck! so good, so good, so so fucking good, yes shuri mm." you rambled as you writhed under her in pleasure, “be a good girl and cum, unload on my fucking fingers like the slut you are.�� without warning, your hips stuttered as your mind went totally blank, feeling your climax hit you like a truck and taking hold of all your senses for a second as it satisfyingly washed over you, "mmm, shit..." your chest moved up and down as you breathed heavily. your hips continued to roll as you rode out your high, getting every last bit of it. degradation was the cherry on top for you, and shuri undoubtedly knew this which is why she gently chuckled and kissed your cheek after you came. her fingers slowly pulled out of you and you clenched around nothing, missing how full you were. you took a second to catch your breath, and shuri rubbed your sides, “you were so good for me.”

you couldn’t help but smile at the praise you received, but you weren’t done yet, now, you were going to return the favour,

“shuri.” you called out to her, as she lay back down onto the bed in her original position, “yes?” she replied, pulling the sheets back up as she tucked herself in, leaving you sprawled out on the bed.

“isn’t it your turn?” you found the energy to raise yourself up and look at her as she hid herself under the cover, “hmmph, i don’t think so.” she said, pretending to fall asleep. you grinned and went onto your knees, crawling over to her and ripping the sheets off her body. she winced and groaned, jokingly hiding away from you, “come on, let me make you feel good.” you whined, coming back into the covers next to her. she had her back to you but upon hearing that, she turned around to face you, eyes squinted like always. it was no surprise that shuri was shying away from you, since she liked to give rather than receive but today, you wanted to please her and show her how much she means to you.

“well i guess…” shuri trailed off but you wanted a straight answer, “yes or no?” you battered your eyelashes, getting closer to her to tempt her into saying yes. she stared at you, at your naked body looking so gorgeous under the sheets, “fuck yes.” she said and you hungrily kissed her once again, hands all over her already heated body. she eagerly welcomed it and you soon detached your lips to kiss hungrily down her neck to her chest like earlier, hands on her hips to steady yourself. she bit her lip and let out low grunts as your tongue found her sensitive, dark nipples, swirling them around as you sucked like your life depended on it. shuri was already on edge from earlier and she wasn’t used to this so she just laid back and took it all. you looked up through your eyelashes and saw shuri’s head swung back attractively, her adams apple bobbing as she let out quiet and subtle moans. that was a sign you were doing a good job and so you proceeded to go lower, playing and pinching her small nubs as you worked your way down. the satin duvet was completely over you and you could just see the look on shuri’s face in the opening as her body moved in response to your gentle touches. you were getting bolder and you wanted to see her reaction to your mouth, on her...y’know.

excited by the idea, you carefully parted shuri’s slim thighs and she opened them wider for you as she shifted to a more comfortable position. you shuffled down further until you were face to face with shuri’s pussy. you were under the covers but they were somewhat see through and you could clearly see how wet she was as it glistened, “so this is what you were hiding.” you whispered to yourself, licking your lips as you were eager to taste her. shuri was confused as to why you weren’t doing anything, but that was quickly replaced with her hand roughly gripping a handful of your hair as she felt your warm mouth enclose the entirety of her heat, “shit y/n.” she moaned deeply, moving her hips up to grind herself on your tongue. your own heat had a heartbeat at how fucking hot she sounded and you held her thighs tightly, using your tongue to massage her folds and the tip to gently pat her swollen clit as her hips jerked up.

“fuck.” she breathed out, chest heaving as she relished in the pleasure. her taste was slightly salty but refreshing and you wanted more. you hummed against her pussy as you bobbed your head back and fourth to give her maximum friction. it resonated throughout her body and sped up her nearing release. shuri slightly opened her eyes and looked down at you as you looked back up, hands nestled on her pubic bone with your nose slightly brushing the curls of her pubic hair, as you ate her out like it was your last meal. she realized she was tugging quite harshly on your long hair, so she released her grip and gently stroked your soft curly locks as you continued to be the muncher you were, “mm, its so good, musa ukuyeka.” she praised, as she moved her hips rhythmically to feel your tongue more, head back and mouth agape as she was stuck in her own pure bliss.

her speaking xhosa during sex would never not be hot and you just had to make her cum, right now. you shifted your focus to her clit that was poking just below her hood and you started to suck lightly. you knew it did something because she started to moan louder with uneven breaths. her body was starting to coat with layer of sweat and you could physically see her start to get closer. the way her abs tensed and her thigh muscles flexed as she twitched was such a unholy but sexy sight. you finally disconnected your mouth from her heat to say, “shuri, i want you to cum, all over my tongue.”

shuri chuckled and threw her free arm over her face, “yeah?”

“yes.” you replied sternly and went back to work, impatiently slurping up as much of her as you could, and feeling her grab a bigger chunk of your hair in response,

“shit, i’m close…y/n, i’m so close baby.” shuri uttered like a sacred mantra, as she used her elbows to prop herself in order to brace herself for the earth shattering orgasm she knew was about to experience. she took the duvet off of you and the cold air hit your skin, giving you goosebumps but you continued to roll your tongue into her pussy skillfully to pull shuri closer to the edge that she so deserved.

“fuck, fuck..” her moans of profanities got more strung out and strained as her eyes squeezed themselves shut. you blew cool air onto her clit to kind of soothe the intense treatment it was receiving, but it had the opposite reaction and shuri got louder, her legs shook, and she bit her lip so hard, it nearly bled. the grip on your hair got harder and you could tell her climax has finally reached as a deep grunt emanated from her and her movements got choppy. her body tensed inwards towards you and she held it like that until finally, her release had fully gone it’s course and she lay flat out onto the bed. her warm juices flowed into your mouth and nicely glazed your tongue as you slowly got up, a string of your saliva from shuri’s pussy following; she’d given you what you wanted.

both of her arms crossed across her face as she smiled and let out a hearty laugh, “that was really fucking good y/n.” she praised, holding her arm out as an invite for you to come lay down next to her. you complied, and laid done comfortably, holding her abdomen as your leg wrapped around her waist,

“hehe, we should do that more often.” you suggested, looking up at her lovingly as she shook her head, “bast, i wouldn’t be able to think for the whole day if we did that every morning.” she replied, chuckling at the idea of her zoning out because of you.

“i guess you have a point, we need that big brain of yours to protect wakanda.” you said, tapping on her head, “definitely.” she replied, pulling the pure satin covers back over the both of you whilst you cuddled against each others sticky bodies.

the two of you accidentally slept in after that, not bothering to wash up because you were too tired. however, it wasn’t a free day and the queen had duties which she forgot about, and is why the tribes were so confused when she didn’t show up at the meeting. of course, the general okoye was sent to check on her but when she entered the room, she immediately went back out, telling the others she was still in bed with you. they understood and called off the meeting, but shuri was met with a scolding from okoye later in the evening.

“i know i know, it won’t happen again.” shuri sighed and gave a cheeky smile to okoye, but you gave her a sly look from across the room, and she grinned back, knowing it would most definitely happen again.

damn, merry xmas ig x

[3-2-whump]

The Box

A Thomas Costa Backstory, as told by himself. Indented part indicates a flash back. Set during the Key Game era, though I don't know if any of the other flash backs will have any concrete place on the timeline.

Full collection of Thomas Costa Backstories here

TW/CW: slave whump, intimate whumper, blood, whumpee turned whumper (more like whumper, former whumpee), divorce, neglect, death of minor characters mentioned

Khaled had found his box. He wasn’t supposed to go anywhere near the file box that held the physical remains of the man he used to be, but Thomas had caught him red-handed, sitting on his bed with his dog tags, his paperwork, and several old photos of him spread out across the bed. Khaled paled, visibly scooting up the bed and away from the contents of the box as he realized he’d been caught.

In hindsight, Thomas was not proud of his initial reaction. He couldn’t just beat the boy without reason, no matter how much he deserved it for directly disobeying him. He was owed an explanation, at least. Once he had calmed down enough, and once the wound from Khaled’s scalp had stopped cascading blood down his face, he decided to try a different approach.

“You know I told you not to go through that box, boy,” he said.

Khaled lowered the moist washcloth from where it was compressed against his head. What used to be a white washcloth was now dyed a splotchy pinkish-red.

“Why did you go through my box?” he asked. He caught Khaled’s face in his hand before the young man could turn his head away. “Why?” he repeated.

“I… thought it was where you were hiding the key, Master.” Khaled’s confession hardly rose above a whisper. He crossed his legs self-consciously in front of him. “I-I just wanted it off, I’m sorry,” he apologized.

Thomas shook his head. “Just for that, I’ll keep you in that thing a week longer. I will take if off when I am ready, not when you are,” he grumbled. He took the box in hand and started sweeping the stuff on the bed back into the box.

He paused as he was about to collect a certain picture. It was him, his squad –Callahan, Trémeaux, Robinson, Martinez, Kruger, and Kościelsky –and more importantly, his brother Tony’s team, standing around a crude edifice of water and sand and any bits of refuse they could find to fill in the finer details. In the sand in front of the group someone had scratched ‘Merry Xmas 2002.’

Khaled didn’t miss the involuntary smile on his lips as he remembered the sandman. “What is it, Master?” The unspoken request ‘can I see?’ bubbled just beneath Khaled’s inquisitive eyes.

Thomas passed the photo to Khaled. “We were having a slow day on the base, so some of the boys got together to make a snow man. There wasn’t any snow where we were, of course, so we worked with the next best thing!” He proudly poked at the picture with his index finger. “See the lit cigarette sticking out of his mouth? That was my idea,” he boasted.

Khaled hummed, studying the picture a bit more. He poked at the soldier whose arm was slung around the snowman’s shoulder. “Is that you?” he asked.

“Yeah. Nothing gets past you, huh?” Not that it was hard to tell; Thomas hadn’t changed his physical appearance too drastically over the last twenty years. “Think you can find my brother?”

The corners of Khaled’s eyes scrunched up as he concentrated on the old photo in front of him. It took him about three tries until he gave up. Thomas pointed to a skinny brunette leaning on Ferguson’s back. “That’s him. I know, we look nothing alike,” he said, answering Khaled (and everyone else’s) unasked question. “We had different dads, same mom.”

“Oh, um, I’m sorry, Master.”

He looked up from the picture to see Khaled’s frown. “Sorry? What do you mean?”

“Did your dad die, like mine?” Khaled asked hesitantly.

“What- Oh, no, Khaled, my dad is alive!” Well, last he checked, anyway. “My parents are just divorced is all. Same goes for Tony’s dad, he divorced and left us too.”

“Fuck your horse races, fuck your little bastard, and fuck you! Fuck this entire family! I am done, Maria, done!” Those were the last words that Thomas’ stepfather uttered before he never saw him again. In the violent deluge of a summer rain, the man he considered his father wrenched off his wedding ring and threw it at his mother’s feet. He then turned his back on her –on him, on Young Tony (Thomas’ brother and the man’s biological son) –turning away from them as if it were nothing to leave his own blood in the hands of ‘a piss-poor excuse of a mother and a self-absorbed monster without a conscience’. The sound of pounding rain muted his retreating steps.

“Oh…” Khaled’s voice trailed off.

“It’s okay,” Thomas lied. He gently pried the photo out of his hand and stuck it in the box, finally closing the lid as he rose from the bed to put it back underneath them. He redirected his thoughts from his absent father to the old photo. Only five people in that Christmas photo were still alive now, and none of them were his squad or Tony. Maybe one day he would be willing to tell Khaled about the blast. Maybe he would even be willing to tell him about his overreaction that would send him back stateside, right back into the brood of vipers he had sworn to leave behind. But until then, like every other uncomfortable thing about his past, it was just easier for Thomas to put it in a box, shove it under the bed, and forget about it.

Le Tag List: @kabie-whump @rainydaywhump @whumped-by-glitter @skittles-the-whumpee @generic-whumperz @bamber344 @there-will-always-be-blood @morning-star-whump @a-la-whump @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees

[cloveroctobers]

DECEMBER PROMPTS 🧊 — 3. MICHAEL “MIKEY” BERZATTO

A/N: I want to attempt to make this a bit lighter but with the way the bear is set up? Happiness is a process. 🥂 Also this takes place BEFORE 7 fishes? Maybe a year or two prior, so thats probably six or seven years ago from now? The timeline isn’t overly important with this show so whatever your brain feels is cool with me! Also decided to do this in headcanon/note form this time around because things are definitely about to get hectic for me. Merry Christmas Eve or Happy Holidays to you all! 🫶🏽 hope its filled with nothing but greatness + all things that are lovely and not chaos.

PROMPTS ARE FROM HERE + I’m using: SCENARIO — 4.) Decorating the tree + DIALOGUE — 2.) “You know what they say, don’t eat yellow snow.”

<- read my previous December anthology prompt here.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆𐙚 ⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆𐙚 ⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆𐙚 ⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆𐙚 ⋆⁺₊

Michael Berzatto always loved cold weather and sure his birthday happened to always fall on a brutal cold day… he always put more effort into everyone else’s.

It’s something he’s always done and maybe it had to do with his childhood where most birthdays his own parents forgot about it, treating it as any other day because that’s simply how they viewed their own and wouldn’t even get him a card at least.

He grew up fast and pushed those terrible feelings as far down as they could go and focused on caring for everyone else.

Lucky for him, he had his younger siblings that always managed to put a smile on his face, showing him that they wouldn’t ever forget

and a shit eating grin would also appear thanks to his best friend Richie who always showed up with packs of beer and encouragement to head out to a strip joint but somehow Tiffany always figured out that plan!

a gallon of warmth poured into his chest when you would call him at midnight or the break of dawn, wanting to be the first to send him well wishes for another year.

You were always something special to Michael.

Which is why on the morning of November 15th, he showed up to your place, just to tell you later that you were going tree hunting while he went down to Chicagoland to get the rest of his hours in.

He heard how bummed out you were about your boyfriend not being in town (yet again) to go get a tree for the place you moved into back in July.

Michael didn’t particularly hate the guy but he also felt like he didnt care enough as much as he should with someone like you.

He was always elsewhere and Michael was just praying that he didn’t ask you to marry him and call it selfish but he didn’t see a glimmer in your eyes when you looked at the guy.

Michael felt like you two were just dating out of convenience—until you both found better, which YOU would but you didn’t seem to see that.

Which of course sparked arguments and the guy walked in on that argument, demanding to know what was going on and you didn’t want to escalate the situation so you sent a warning glance for Michael not to take it there.

He never listened.

A ban from the house was laughable to Michael because who tf did this guy think he was to tell him to stay away from his best friend’s house? He maybe “the man,” of the house but he wasn’t man enough to love you. You have to show you care in a relationship and put in the work and this guy wasn’t it. You were an after thought and that pissed Michael off.

and he didn’t give a shit if the guy was 6’6 and built like a linebacker, it was fair game in mike’s eyes! Michael would say what he felt and he was super protective over you—which you appreciated but not in that moment.

Before hands could ever go flying and out of the respect he has for you, he said his peace and left the home—since thats what you wanted…with the both of you not speaking for a week—which was painful.

And also painful to Richie’s ears because Mikey wouldn’t shut up about it!

You as a topic? Was never on the low.

“Are you finally gonna admit to the audience that you’re sweet on them, Mikey Boy!?” The amusement was clear in Richie’s piercing blues and Michael was tempted to smack it right off.

“Shut your mouth and get back to work, ya bastard!”

Michael knew the guy talked shit about him behind his back but regardless Michael was in your life WAAAY before this guy was even a factor! He wasn’t going anywhere,, unless you told him to but he hoped that never happened.

Your boyfriend didn’t like how you kept Michael around but he knew how to put on a mask too, being a FBI agent and all that, which means he was hardly around anyway so…that gave Michael more time with you in the end, which definitely made your boyfriend more irritated when he bothered to check in from work!

Michael found it funny that your boyfriend thought he was doing something by flying back to Indiana with you to spend (the controversial holiday) thanksgiving with your dad, step-mother, and half-siblings just to disappear again into his work as soon as the both of you returned to chicago.

While he was off on a case, Michael was there taking on the failed promises, which included: tree shopping.

Having a hybrid schedule, working as a publisher and just starting a meeting with a client, you were caught off guard the morning Michael greeted you on your front steps on HIS birthday.

He was all grins and barely in the appropriate wear for the approaching winter but fr! a hoe never gets cold you know? “You asked what i feel like doing for my birthday, right sweetheart? Spending it with you doll face and gettin’ us a tree, how’s that sound?”

You can can barely get any words out due to being on a call but a sweet smile that actually matched your eyes was enough confirmation—although it was on the tip of your tongue to argue, Michael took that to his advantage that you couldn’t in that moment.

Which didn’t mean you wouldn’t hammer him with texts a little later—but Michael sucked at texting so your attempts would probably go unseen anyway.

It was around six, you just got off thirty minutes ago and went to freshen up, ready to text Michael when he’s already at your door, keys in hand, shining teeth of a smile, your favorite sandwich in hand: a wrapped Porchetta, chicken parm, or a caprese sandwich (if you don’t eat meat) ready for you to eat on the go, since the farm closes at eight-thirty and the drives about thirty to forty-five minutes depending on the traffic…

Michael’s got terrible road rage and hates traffic but you’re not the best driver when the sky falls so you have no choice this evening but…he’s at ease with you on the passenger side.

He’s telling you entertaining stories as you eat and when you’re done, he’s asking for your review—although it’s your favorite sandwich so of course it’s going to be highly rated! but he just likes to hear you talk about the things you enjoy

he’s interested in your day since your work days are completely different and he’s not afraid to give his opinions if the author you’re working with sounds like an asshole.

Shopping with you can sometimes take forever but Michael doesn’t seem to mind. If you’re looking for the perfect tree, even if it’s ugly as hell, you’re gonna get the damn tree.

He’s used to artificial trees because the real one his family had after he just turned fifteen, his ma threw a lit cigarette at once, unbeknownst to the rest of the berzatto family, almost burning it to a crisp as she whipped around to yell at a seven year old Sugar about something, so his dad swore off “spending his hard earned money for Donna to ruin,” leaving Michael to stop looking forward to Christmas trees

Yet he was here on his birthday with you, happy to be here and help you find whatever you needed.

“What about that one?” You pointed at what would probably be the eighth one, if Michael thought to keep count.

He can’t help it—

He glances over his shoulders and scowls, “looks like uncle Lee, fucking balding in the middle.”

“Michael!”

“Wha? Am I wrong?! I’m just sayin, sweetheart…if you love that one, I’ll like it.” Michael raised his hands in surrender while you huffed, rolled your eyes and spun on your flats, diving in between a row of fully stocked trees.

Eventually you find a wide white spruce tree that the both you felt strongly about to bring back home

and the man is willing to throw his back out for you, getting it up your steep front steps, not allowing you to help him one bit, which is frustrating for you ofc.

Once positioned in your living room, just the way you want it, Michael wipes the back of his hand against his forehead dramatically.

“What would you like to drink?”

“I’m fine. Just gonna get some air, then when I get back we’ll discuss when you want to decorate it, yeah?”

You shake your head at Michael while he heads back to the front of the house through the screened in entrance before entering November’s air.

When he’s taking longer than expected, you go hunting for him just to flail around on some black ice after stepping down from the last step but manage to somewhat catch yourself on the railing.

Thankful for a bruise rather than a broken tailbone, you curse to yourself as the throbbing pain shoots down your femur.

And surely, Michael fucking berzatto appears from the shadows to assist you, “hey! whatcha doin’ down there?”

“I slipped on some stupid black ice…where were you?”

“You sure it wasn’t the yellow snow?”

“The what?” You exasperate as Michael guides you to your feet.

Michael points at the spot to the right of your front lawn and you scowl as he says, “you know what they say, don’t eat yellow snow!”

He laughs but stops short as you cut your eyes at him, “did you come out here to piss on my lawn when there’s two bathroom’s inside?”

Michael scoffs, “don’t go pointin’ fingers at me because you busted your ass. That ain’t my fault babe and you know I wouldn’t do that! I told you that was Richie’s drunk ass.”

Sighing you rub at your sore thigh, “I still owe him a kick in the ass for that.”

“Yeah you do,” Michael smirks as the both of you move to head back inside, “despite that, it was good house warming.”

You nod as you’re back inside the warmth of your new home and rest against the couch while Michael’s back to analyzing the tree you picked. “Hey, I’ve got you something.”

Michael shakes his head although a twitch of a grin is there,“I told you that you didn’t need to get me anything.”

“Shush,” you held up your hand at the man who raised his brows at you, “it’s nothing crazy but it’s in the fridge.”

He sighs at you but goes to your bright yellow kitchen nonetheless. Michael always gets caught up standing in your kitchen, just imagining all the meals he could get up to in here since it seems so bright and welcoming yet empty.

You were more of a breakfast person which is why he was always down to go to diners because of you, whereas he was more a lunch person because of his old man, hence why Chicagoland was a deli spot but Michael was okay with shifting his ways for you.

When he opens your fridge, he scans through it, easily picking up on what items belongs to your macho boyfriend and scoffs to himself before spotting a medium sized box tucked in the back of the fridge.

“Did you find it, Mikey?” You call out to your friend who latches onto the box, kneeing the fridge closed before making his way back into the living room.

He plops down on the couch next to you, eyeing you while you smile over at him patiently waiting.

“Here goes nothing,” Michael quietly says before pulling the top back to eye the mold of the zuccotto, “…you fucking didn’t.”

“I did,” you nod before explaining, “I thought about making one but I also didn’t want to disappoint you and then I remembered you’ve been wanting to try that bakery that’s here on my side of town, so I made a call and hope you like it.”

Michael swallows the lump in his throat at the gesture. He can’t remember the last time someone’s got him a cake but this wasn’t just some simple task. This was important because this means you listened.

You listened to how he told you that his nonna used to call him, “pumpkin bear,” because he was chunky and the shade of a Orange left in the sunlight fresh out the womb and that she made the best zuccotto he’s ever had and never tried anyone else’s since she’s passed.

Not even his ma could touch his nonna’s but he would never tell the woman that!

“The bakery’s a combined Italian-French place which they don’t really advertise until you’re actually inside but the little elderly lady who made it was the cutest thing and I thought you’d probably trust her.”

“I wanna kiss you on the mouth, you’re so good to me, you have no idea!” Michael pointed at you, voice thick with emotion.

This may seem small to any other but it really meant a lot and you could sense that as Michael gripped your hand to squeeze and press kisses to. “Happy birthday, Mikey.” You whisper.

Michael groans as he pinched the corners of his wet eyes for a moment, “I love you, you know?”

“I love you back,” you smile, “now can we try!?”

“Hell yeah we can but I get first bite this time.”

“I guess…it is your birthday after all.” You wink.

The taste test was so worth it, to the point Michael made it his mission to go meet the elderly woman down at her bakery during one of his breaks from the restaurant.

He shared kind words and got to know Giuseppina or “Josy,” up until the point they actually became friendly with Josy sending her husband Charles over to try what Chicagoland had to offer as well.

He had you to thank for that, reminding him of the good in his life, even what once was.

It isnt until the first week of December when Michael comes around again to decorate your tree.

“What the hell happened?” Michael quizzes you when he spots you with a brace taking up a huge portion of your thigh.

Guess that makes sense why you took so long to get the door.

You sigh, “hello to you too, Mike. Care to come in?”

“Yeah, yeah. Hi.” Michael greets, gripping your hip and pressing a kiss to your cheek before stepping into the too warm house.

You tell him you slipped again and that resulted into a bruised bone, which is less severe than a fracture and something you can heal at home with ice, and meds you wouldn’t be taking—so you’re just taking it easy.

“Why hasn’t inspector gadget put down any salt yet?” Michael commented as he shoved his thin jacket into the small closet tucked in the corner of the living room.

You have your oddly placed fireplace lit and boxes everywhere to dig through.

Sighing you plop back on the couch, “He’s busy but he brought up the decorations from the basement and I can do the salt myself.”

“Oh yeah? Why haven’t you?”

“…it’s cold.”

Michael fans his hands at you, “newsflash babe, we’re in Chicago not Kansas or wherever the hell he’s from and after we’re done tackling this tree, I’m gonna fix it.”

“Mikey—

“Did you hear what I said?”

The look he sent you with his dark eyes made you mold your lips together and cross your arms before you pushed off the couch to head over to a few of the boxes.

Michael does the honors of playing some Motown Christmas music on your tv to fill the tension, but he wouldn’t apologize for looking out for you.

The bare minimum when it comes to your boyfriend doesn’t impress him, not one bit and although you didn’t like and told Michael that you didn’t like him dragging your man, you couldn’t change Michael’s mind about him at all!

He was gonna hurt you and Michael was waiting for the asshole to just rip the band aid off or when you woke up and dumped him yourself.

Michael knew you had it in you and knew you deserved better than to just settle for what looks good on paper.

The smooth deep growl of Marvin Gaye singing, “I want to come home for Christmas,” (I heavily stand on the fact that Marvin Gaye is one of Michael’s favorite singers!) filled your home as the both of you went through the boxes, picking out your decor that brought all sorts of feelings to your frame.

You reminisced about what your life was and if your dad still had any of your old ornaments you made as a child, knowing your mother would have and what your life could be as you took your side of the tree, placing ornaments up as Michael hummed to the music.

The both of you worked in silence which wasn’t the usual although Michael was much louder than you, being quiet wasn’t the norm of your friendship.

And it wasn’t because of what Michael said to you, you weren’t that sensitive—it was you getting in your head about the holidays.

About your dad, step-mom, and siblings deciding not to speed Christmas with you like originally planned because they were going on a cruise and the possibility of your boyfriend traveling to freaking Europe around that time for work made you think about the upcoming loneliness

Yes you had another friend outside of Michael but it was just this odd feeling that you didn’t particularly want to define or gave much thought about until now…

“Hey, stop thinkin’ so hard and just be here with me, huh? Your favorite person on the planet.” Michael calls over the music, after catching you staring up at the length of the tree with one ornament still in your hand.

When your eyes meet his and that famous grin stretched over his features, you roll your eyes once you realized what he said, bringing you back into the spirit and moved around the living room in search of your stool.

Michael holds the stool until your comfortably on it before moving one hand to the small of your back to keep you stable.

When you glance back at him you state, “how do you know?”

“Know what?”

“You’re my favorite person when there’s a billion people in this place?”

“Ah, It’s all over your face! You know how they say heart on your sleeve? Well in your case, it’s on your face.” Michael comments as he holds your stare before you slowly get down to be face to face with him, “and don’t you worry, you’re mine too.” 🥹🥹🥹

You pat his jaw, “damn straight, baby. And don’t you forget it.”

“Never will,” Michael chuckles, “do I get to do the honors of putting up the star?”

You plop down on the couch, digging through what’s left in the box you were working on, “we don’t have a star.”

“…Run that by me again?” Michael turns to you.

You nod, “we wanted to do something…less traditional and it was between either a bow or what he went for…a stag.”

Michael eyes the topper and scowls as he reaches for the cream deer head, “im gonna keep my mouth shut on this one.”

“Thank you.”

“welcome.”

after awhile, Michael finds his way collapsed next to you eyeing the tree as the both of you sip at some cranberry punch you made the other day, eyeing some rosemary you had floating through it.

“It actually turned out pretty, no?” You ask, shoulder to shoulder with the bearded man.

Michael sips from the mason jar and savors the earthy tangy flavor, “best lookin’ tree I’ve ever seen!”

Resting your head against Michael’s shoulder you take in the scenery, feeling a little less alone as Michael’s lips peck your brow, reminding you that it’s best to hold onto what you have, rather than what you don’t. 

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆𐙚 ⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆𐙚 ⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆𐙚 ⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆𐙚 ⋆⁺₊

read my final ~5 days of Xmas~ anthology prompt here.

[storiesofsvu]

Learn to Share

Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: language, alcohol consumption, smut, dirty talk, some dom/sub dynamics, nothing too crazy this time lol. Covers the "only one bed" square for xmas bingo and the "forced proximity" for @resanoona 3k bingo! Also covers a prompt requested by anon.

It was honestly a miracle that the BAU had managed to not only wrap their last case, but get home, finalize paperwork and have nothing else come up before Christmas Eve. Everyone was beyond thankful for that since it was the night of the annual Christmas at Rossi’s party, nothing too fancy, or too huge, usually just the team and any respective partners that wanted to come maybe a few extra agents or assistants that helped them out majorly through the year. The evening was full of laughter, amazing food, fancy wines, expensive bourbons and an all around sense of family and quality relaxation time.

Once dinner was finished, dishes were left for the morning and the party would end up spreading its way through the house. There were often cigars being smoked out back, Dave wandering through the rooms showing off any new fancy things he’d collected over the year or telling stories of his wild days. As the night wore on and the candles began to burn low the crowd would begin to dwindle, people slipping off into the night after a quiet goodbye and Merry Christmas, knowing they had family to see early the next morning. Eventually it was only Dave, Spencer, Tara, you and Emily left in the living room, fresh glasses of wine poured, alcohol flowing through your veins, keeping you warm and relaxed, helping everyone let go a little bit more than normal. Dave always extended the offer from dinner to everyone able to stay overnight, considering just how much alcohol he had provided it was the smart choice. Spencer was tipsily rambling on about one theory or another, pulling laughter from the girls as Rossi drained his glass, letting out a small groan as he stood from the couch.

“It’s late. You kids know where the guest rooms are.”

There was a chorus of goodnights as he reminded everyone they were more than welcome to stay as long as they wanted and breakfast would be available in the morning before he disappeared down the hall. Spencer’s theory finally wrapped up a bit later and Tara finished her drink, moving to put her wine glass in the sink.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Emily protested with a laugh and Tara chuckled.

“There’s four of us and only three rooms, I just bunked with Reid all week, it’s not happening again tonight. Besides, you two had private suites, learn to share.” She teased.

Emily let out a mock offended scoff as Spencer tried to object and you laughed rolling your eyes at Tara as she flashed the group a smile and a wave along with good night. It didn’t take much longer before you were yawning, doing your best not to lean into Emily’s shoulder as you finished your drink.

“Guys…” you started, “never thought I’d be this person, but I think it’s bedtime for me.” You sat up stretching your body out with a soft groan, “see you in the morning.” You shot Emily a lingering look as you moved from the couch, your glass finding home on the kitchen island before you wandered down the hall.

You would forever and always be thankful for Rossi and his level of hospitality extending beyond anyone you’d ever experienced. There were unopened toothbrush packages and makeup wipes in the en suite you were able to help yourself to, along with some cozy clothes stashed in the guest room’s closet. You simply tugged down a comfy cotton t-shirt, pulling it over your bare body before plugging in your phone and letting out a happy sigh as you shifted under the covers.

You weren’t surprised at the small murmur of voices in the hallway before the light flicked off, the sound of the other guest room door clicking shut and the door to your guest room opened, Emily slipping through it with a grin on her face, the soft lamplight washing her in a golden glow.

“You coming for a sleepover?” You greeted with a grin and she laughed quietly.

“You heard Tara.” Her hands moved to her shirt, sliding down the buttons she undid them, “apparently it’s our turn to share.”

“If only they knew just how much sharing we had done this week.” You purred, sitting up as you shifted onto your knees and Emily chuckled.

“Are you gonna be quiet this time?” She raised a brow, beginning to crawl up the bed, “because I’ll only touch you if you’re quiet…. I don’t want you to risk waking anyone up again.”

“I’ll be good.” Your breath caught in your throat, “I promise…”

“Good.” One of her hands wrapped around the back of your head, pulling her to you, her lips brushing against yours when she spoke, “such a shame there’s only one bed.”

“It is a king… could build a wall of pillows?” You offered with a grin and Emily chuckled, her breath warm on your skin.

“I was thinking we could take advantage of it….”

“Hmm… I do like the sound of that better.” You barely had moment to let out a huff of a laugh before Emily’s lips were on you. Your hands fell to her bare waist, wrapping around her and pulling her body tight to you while her hand wove into your hair.

The kiss built up, starting slow, a familiar dance between all too familiar lips until Emily’s tongue slid across the seam of your lips, her teeth nipping into your lower lip and you groaned. She took the opportunity to sink her tongue into your mouth, exploring every inch of you she could while her free hand started to toy with the hem of the shirt you had on. Your hands drifted upward, swiftly un doing her bra and she tossed it to the floor before her hands tickled up your bare thighs, tugging at the hem of your shirt. The kiss broke long enough for her to pull the garment over your head and it joined the growing pile on the floor.

“So fucking gorgeous.” She cooed, nudging you backwards towards the pillows, “lie back for me baby.”

You did as she asked, getting comfortable on the bed as she stepped off it to rid herself of the rest of her clothing, smirking at the way your eyes lingered on her body as if you were trying to memorize every inch. A hand on the mattress she settled over you, lips meeting yours again, this kiss deeper than the last while her hand snuck between your legs. The tips of her fingers began to play with your pussy, trailing through them feather light, teasing you, leaving you whining for more.

“Quiet…” she warned, “can’t have us getting caught…”

“Sorry M’am.” You murmured in return as Emily kissed across your jaw, her lips trailing down your neck, teeth scratching at your skin ever so lightly until she bit deeply into your pulse point and your hand flew to your mouth to muffle the gasp escaping your lips.

“That’s my good girl.” Her lips curved into a grin against your skin as they trailed across your body, her tongue swiping across your collarbone before her lips wrapped around a nipple, sucking it into her mouth while her tongue flicked across it. Her finger tips continuing to tease you, the heel of her hand randomly pressing against your clit as your hips rocked upwards in need of more.

She sunk lower on your body, lips leaving little kisses and love bites on your hips and thighs until she was settled between your legs. Her hand ran up your cunt, smearing wetness across it while her fingers widened, spreading you open for her and you let out a breathy sigh. It was only a moment later her mouth was on you, kissing at your folds, tongue slipping as deep into as you could and you bit back a moan, your fingers clenching into the bedspread. Emily continued to eagerly lap at your pussy, groaning into it, the vibrations pulling quiet whimpers from you as she buried herself between your legs. You were doing your absolute best to keep quiet, knowing just how easy it would be to be overheard by any of the others. But when Emily’s hand snuck up to join her mouth, her lips shifted up wrapping around your clit and she sucked, hard and you weren’t expecting it.

“Oh fuck!” The moan left your lips before you even realized and even faster Emily’s hand and mouth left your cunt, instead, her teeth quickly and sharply bit into your thigh, “oww!” You hissed in a whisper and she raised an unimpressed brow in your direction when she looked up at you. “That hurt!”

“And you had one rule sweetheart.” She husked back, “shame I can’t spank you, that certainly would call attention to what we were up to. Guess you’ll have to get that punishment tomorrow night. Now…another outburst like that and I’m shoving your panties in that dirty little mouth of yours, understood?”

“Yes ma’am…” your breath caught in your throat, hitching when her mouth returned to your pussy, slowly licking through you before gently wrapping around your clit once more. You tugged your lip into your teeth, holding back any noises aside from quiet whimpers as Emily’s fingers sunk into your pussy. She let out a quiet groan at the feeling of you tightly wrapping around her, how wet you already were, juices slicking her fingers within seconds. She twisted and curled them within you until she found that sensitive spot and your hips jolted up off the bed, a soft gasp leaving your lips and she smirked against your body.

“Right there?” She murmured, pressing on the spot again and you nodded, eyes tightly scrunching shut, “you like it when I touch you here?”

“Oh god Em!” It was barely above a whisper, a shuddering breath following it as she continued to brush against the spot, chuckling softly before her mouth returned to your swollen nub.

Her lips wrapped around it, sucking it into her mouth while her tongue flicked patterns against it, harder and faster until you were trembling under her. Her fingers worked in tandem, feeling the way your cunt began to flutter around her, your clit pulsing in her mouth in the same rhythm. Fire was burning through you, your body shivering with each touch of Emily’s fingers or mouth, each pass of either bringing you more and more pleasure. You let out a muffled cry when the fire broke the surface, biting down so hard on your lip you swore you’d broken the skin. Emily’s lips slipped from your clit when you orgasm hit, watching the way your juices lightly dribbled out of you, leaking down her wrist as your body shook on the bed.

“That’s my good girl… so pretty…” She praised before her fingers slipped out of you and she delicately licked around your pussy, cleaning up the smeared juices before she crawled back over you, straddling your hips and she extended her slicked fingers to you. You eagerly accepted them into your mouth, lips wrapping around them as you sucked them clean. “Taste so good sweetheart, thought I should share.”

“Thank you.” You breathed out and she chuckled at the way you dropped back against the pillows.

“Oh I’m not done. I know you can handle another one.” She sat up on her knees, shifting lower on your body as she swatted at your hip, “roll over.”

You did as she asked and she grasped at your hips, pulling you up on your knees while your head remained buried the pillows. Her knee nudged at your leg, shoving yours further apart so she was able to settle between them, a hand running up your back, pressing you into the pillows and you let out a quiet groan. Her free hand trailed up the inside of your leg, fingers brushing through your still dripping pussy before her thumb sunk in as deep as it could and moaned softly into the pillows. Your hips began to rock back onto her hand, fucking yourself on her digits as you moved and she leant over you, pressing a kiss to the small of your back.

“That’s my good girl.” Her fingers pinched your clit before they swapped places with her thumb, sinking deep into your cunt. With each thrust of her hand her hips rocked forward, body meeting yours as your hips thrusted back, eager for more, for her fingers to find that spot within you again. “Just like that… you keep fucking yourself on my fingers alright sweetheart?”

“Need more…” you whined softly and she huffed a laugh out, fingers curling within you as she picked up the pace, her body rocking into yours with more force, fingers moving faster and going as deep as they could into your wetness.

“I guess you’ve been good enough for a bit of a reward.” She purred, her free hand moving from your hip to the bag you hadn’t even noticed her bring into the room.

Your head dropped onto your arms, chest beginning to heave as your cunt fluttered around her fingers, your body burned, ached to be stuffed with her cock, but you knew that wasn’t going to be able to happen tonight. Though, you couldn’t really complain about that, Emily was just as good with her hands and mouth and judging by the punishment comment earlier, you would get everything you desired in the very near future. Her hand crooked within you, finding your g-spot once again and the pillows muffled your cry as your fingers tightened into the bedspread. You barely heard the click of the small vibrator being turned on but you certainly felt it as Emily pressed it onto your clit.

“Fuck…” you muttered, your hips jolting back towards her as it began to rub at your body.

“Give me another one, I know you’ve got it in you.” She practically growled, her fingers flicking faster within you as she turned the vibe up a notch and you gasped. She could see the sheen of sweat glimmering on your skin as pleasure rocked through you, your thighs had began to shake, your hips faltering as you continued to try to fuck yourself on her hand.

She picked up the pace of her hand, making sure she was giving you everything she could, pressing the vibrator harder against your throbbing clit before she turned it up to the highest speed. It was quiet, but the room was full of dirty noises, your squelching pussy, juices leaking down your thighs and onto Emily’s wrist, the quiet cries and whimpers muffled into the pillows as you tried to not moan, the whir of the vibrator.

“You’re almost there, I can feel it baby, let go for me.” She cooed, fingers brushing right over the sensitive spot, pressing harder and lingering for a second longer than the last thrust and you couldn’t help it, your orgasm tore through you like a wildfire.

“Oh fuck Emily!” The cry was louder than you’d intended and you winced the best you could as your body dropped to the mattress, shaking and trembling with pleasure. Emily clicked the vibrator off, her fingers slowing down, gently fucking you through your orgasm, watching the way your body twitched as she did so before she finally pulled them from you, sucking them clean. “Sorry.” You whimpered, little shivers and soft cries leaving you as pleasure surged through your nerves.

Emily’s hand softly ran up and down your back, nails scratching into your hair ever so softly as you continued to come down from your peak, a whimper escaping your lips whenever her nails traced over a sensitive spot of your body. A quiet knock on the door made both of you jump, Emily beginning to scramble to get the both of you under the covers as Spencer’s soft voice floated through the air.

“Is someone crying?” He asked and you stifled a laugh as Emily struggled to come up with an answer quickly.

“I—uh, accidentally elbowed her in the face, we’re fine.”

“You sure?” He asked quietly and you let out a quiet shriek at the sound of the doorknob turning.

“Yup!” You called back quickly, “totally fine, just hit the cheek. Serves me right for being a blanket hog.”

“…okay…” He replied and the two of you held your breath until his footsteps faded down the hallway. You heard his bedroom door click shut and a fit of quiet giggles took over you as Emily scowled down at you, swatting at your ass.

“I told you to be quiet.”

“Well then I guess I’m getting extra spankings for Christmas.” Your eyes sparkled with excitement as you looked up at her and she playfully rolled her eyes.

“Damn right you fucking are.”

__________

@svulife-rl @ssa-sapphic @mickey-gomez @clarawatson @yesterdaysgone @hbkpop @cabotfan42 @momlifebehard @alexusonfire @melindawarnersgf @itisdoctortoyousir @emilyprentiss4life @andreasvu @softgamerking @httpjupiterbby @somethingimaginative17 @temilyrights @alexxavicry @leelizzzle @mysticfalls01 @anya-casablanca @daddy-heather-dunbar @evilregal2002 @aliensaurusrex @alcabots @7thavenger @rustyzebra @ilovemycrayons @mandy-asimp @thegrantwater @leftoverenvy @kades95 @loverllyhurtswithoutyou @disneyfan624 @bluetodie @borg-queer

[inagetawaycarxo]

Friends Or Something More

— ❄PAIRINGS: Evan Buckley x F!Reader

— ❄FEATURING: Evan Buckley, Y/n, Y/n’s elderly neighbour.

— ❄SYNOPSIS: Y/n’s elderly neighbour suspects that Buck and you maybe more than just friends.

— ❄WARNINGS: errors I missed, just some wholesome fluff, shenanigans, elderly neighbour trying to play matchmaker, slow burn.

— ❄w/c: 800

— ❄AUTHORS NOTE: please note Xmas requesting is closed. But you can request non-Xmas things for 9-1-1.

— ❄DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT give consent/permission for my work to be copied and pasted on other platforms. HOWEVER, I highly encourage feedback, likes, reblogs, and comments.

 Buck quickly checked himself out in the rearview before getting out of his car. Seeing if he looked good. Once he was satisfied, he quickly undid his seat belt. Taking the keys out of the ignition. Grabbing the food container on the passenger seat. He reached down and grabbed his overnight bag.

He checked to see if the lights were off. After checking they were, he got out of his car. Shutting the door and locking it.

Rushing over to his best friend's apartment complex front entrance. Punching in the code for the door. The door unlocked. He grabbed the door handle. Balancing the food container against his arm and side, he opened the door. He walked inside. Using his body to close the door.

He ascended the stairs quickly. Anyone would think he was rushing to his apartment so he could use the toilet.

Buck felt his heart racing as he finally got to the floor of your apartment. He didn’t know why his heart was racing. Maybe it was the way you made him feel. He knew he had feelings for you, feelings that a best friend shouldn’t have. He didn’t say anything because he feared rejection, and he didn’t want to lose you as his best friend. You understood him, you were there for him if he lost you he would be lonely.

Buck finally reached your apartment. Putting his overnight bag down so he could knock on your door.

The door swung open revealing your neighbour inside.

“Oh it’s buck,” She beamed. Grabbing the side of his cheeks. Slightly shocking him.

She looked behind her to see what you were doing. Then looked back up. She lowered her voice so only he could hear.

“You should ask her out,” She spoke. Buck let out a scoff.

“I don’t have feelings for her she is my friend,” Buck denied. Only making her scoff at this boy's stubbornness. Though you were stubborn too. She may be old but she could tell Buck and you had feelings for each other. Feelings that weren’t platonic.

“If you keep telling yourself those lies you will never get her,” She spoke.

Both of them heard the sound of footsteps approaching.

“Buck,” You beamed, as you came into view. Buck beamed at you. Making your neighbour smirk.

Buck and you quickly hugged each other. To your neighbour, she thought it was a little bit longer than what a friend should. Almost like Buck and you didn’t want to separate when Buck and you did. She decided to leave. Hopefully, her words to Buck would encourage him to shoot his shot.

“I will leave you and Buck to it, Happy holidays,” she spoke, as she hugged both of you. Before she left she whispered in both your ears to make a move.

When she left Buck grabbed his overnight bag and walked inside.

“This is for you, it’s dessert, I made it, well I didn’t make it Maddie made it, I helped though,” He rambled. Making you giggle.

He placed the food container in the fridge. Turning to face you. You were leaning against the counter. Staring at him with amusement in your eyes, and something else.

“Do you need any help?” Buck asked. You shook your head.

“Everything is done, just have to wait for the chicken to cook, so, all we have to do is relax, want to watch a movie?” You spoke.

“You always outdo yourself, one day I’m going to help you out,” He spoke. Walking closer to you.

“Keep dreaming,” You teased. Buck tickled your sides making you let out a gasp and then giggles. Begging him to stop. When he did you realized how close he was to you. Both of you stared at each other. The only sound that could be heard in the room was his breathing as well as yours. Hearts pounding.

Taking your bottom lip in between your teeth. Your neighbour's words swirl around in your mind. Telling you to go for it, that you will regret it, but you were scared he wouldn’t feel the same way.

“Let’s watch the movie,” You spoke. Breaking the silence and pulling away from him. Buck nodded his head. Making you smile. You took a hold of his hand. Butterflies swarming in your stomach as well as his, you quickly lead him into the living room.

“You pick, I’m going to get us something to drink and eat,” You spoke. Handing him the remote, you then walked to the kitchen.

Lucky for you, you couldn’t see the living room from there. You pressed your back to the wall, letting out a shaky breath. Evening your breathing. Until it was steady enough for you to go back to him.

Unbeknownst to you, Buck was doing the same thing…

LIKES ARE AWESOME, BUT COMMENTS/FEEDBACK ARE GEMS! HOPE YOU GUYS LIKED IT!

[ladymarycrawley]

My Xmas gift - Mason Mount

Request: Can you do one where Ben is hosting a Christmas party and you and Mase attend it. Some girls at the party make it a bit hard for you to be there as they are kinda mean to you but thankfully you have Mason and Sophia there to  comfort you.

Warning: a bit angst (I wanted to get this ready before the end of Xmas time and maybe it’s not my best work, sorry in advance)

Tag list: @masonxomount​ @chelsealover @masterclassbaby @johnstonesfc @prideofpd

Christmas time brings a lot of joy with it but also a lot of parties and formalities people are expected to take part in even though the level of excitement towards those events is slim to none. That was the case with Ben's Christmas party: you knew it would have been crowded as the guy knew a lot of people, apart from the Chelsea boys that would have been there with their significant others, and that was the least appealing you could think of at that moment. Just thinking about that made you moody, already hoping to be back in the coziness of your home.

Maybe it was also the fact that it would have been the first time you would have gone out in public after announcing your pregnancy (not to the whole world yet, just to the people who were closer to you) that made you even more nervous .

All those considerations transformed into an annoyed grunt which left your lips as you were busy adjusting your dress in front of the mirror.

"Mase, do we really have to go to this thing?"

The grudge you were holding made Mason giggle, as he hugged you from behind, looking at you through the reflection of the mirror before you. His hand would gently move from your hips to your slightly swollen belly.

"Come on, we'll have fun, I promise" I whispered, resting his chin on your shoulder. 

You huffed, brushing your thumb over his hands.

"You know what I think of those things…there'll be a lot of people and -"

"...and you'll be alright, everyone there loves you and I'll be there too, there's nothing to worry about"

You would have liked to trust him, to trust every single word he just said but your guts were telling you quite the opposite.

“I love you”

“I love you too” You were so absorbed in your own thoughts you didn’t realise you answered him with a tone that seemed uncaring, making him pout. As soon as you saw his facial expression you became aware and started asking him to forgive you.

“You don’t love me anymore” Mason started whining, wandering around the house.

“Oh come on, you know that’s not true! I love you so damn much and look! I’m also wearing the earrings you gave me on Valentine’s day!” You said showing him the small diamond hoops on your lobe.

“You’re wearing those just because they’re diamonds”

“You think I’m so vain?? That hurts me”

“Well you hurt me more!” You mimicked his whiny voice as he playfully slapped your butt.

"Hey! Keep your hands to yourself!"

"I can touch what's mine whenever I want" He muttered into your neck, making you shiver.

You gulped and took a deep breath, caressing your still small tummy to instill some courage to you and your baby.

For a moment it seemed as if all the panic that haunted you disappeared thanks to Mason who, with his playful bantering and his impromptu concert in the car, washed all your worries away, it was just you and him and the little avocado in your belly.

Nevertheless that magic broke the moment you arrived at Ben's and realised how many people were there at his party, judging from all the cars parked nearby.

"Why did you stop singing?" Mason asked while trying to find parking, knowing your fear was hitting you back.

"Cause we arrived" You huffed as if the answer to his question was something so obvious.

Your boyfriend gave you a side look, squeezing your thigh through the thin fabric of your thighs.

"Did I tell you how good you look tonight?"

A nervous smile crossed your lips as you squeezed his hand back absentmindedly. 

"Nope"

When you found a parking lot, you unbuckled your seatbelt and grabbed your purse before opening the car door to get down. Mason was waiting for you right outside with a small smile on his face, holding his hand out for you to take it.

"You look gorgeous, you are a dream" He whispered, raising your hand to his lips to leave lingering kisses against your knuckles.

His sweet words never failed to make you blush, it was still difficult to wrap your head around how charming he was.

The moment you entered Ben's house you were met with loud music and people laughing and talking out loud. 

The way you scrunched up your face, clearly not impressed with that noise, made Mason move closer to your ear to whisper that you had nothing to worry about and that you could have left whenever you wanted to. You nodded, kissing his cheek when Sophia, Kai's girlfriend, came to welcome you.

"Hii!"

"Hey girl hi! You're gorgeous!" She hugged you, being careful not to hurt your bump.

"You are! I feel so bloated and tired"

Mason left to go and look for Ben as he was sure he had left you in good company. 

"How are you doing, baby mama?"

"Good, I'm kinda tired but that's part of the part of the plan I guess"

Sophia laughed as she was escorting you to the nearest sofa to let you have a seat.

When you finally reached for a comfy seat, four girls standing not far away from you caught your eyes. They were beautiful, looking like models straight out of a magazine, all dressed with dresses that left little to the imagination. They were all giggly and the moment they made eye contact with you you felt intimidated by them: you could feel their eyes piercing right through your soul, checking you out in a derogatory and judgy way. The thing you didn’t understand was why they were looking at you like that, since you didn’t do anything wrong, you didn’t even know who they were!

“Who are those girls?” You asked in a whisper in your best friend’s ear.

“Dunno, I think they are just some Insta girls Ben hangs out with”

“Wondering if Mase knows them too…” You mumbled playing with the straw in your glass, asking why you weren't born having that perfect body they had.

"Maybe he met them too but you have nothing to worry about" Sophia squeezed your hand as to fight those bad thoughts that were starting to crowd your mind once again that night. "He has eyes for you only"

At that moment, exactly as in a movie scene, you made eye contact with Mason  who was sharing a joke with Kai and Ben, and you smiled at each other, a sincere smile that still had the power to make you feel butterflies in your stomach.

When you moved your gaze away from him you saw those girls making eyes at your fiancé, smirking at him. Were they really trying to flirt with your man??

"But - I can't believe it" You grumbled, angry and in disbelief.

"What?"

"Those girls are trying to steal my man"

Sophia moved her gaze in the same direction as yours and saw one of them literally eating Mason with their eyes.

"No way! They are disgusting…"

The worst part wasn't even that one of them wanted to get into his boxers but what you heard them say about you.

“Omg have you seen her? She really thinks he’ll stay with her forever just because she got pregnant??”

“Hell no, she can’t be so delusional” The brunette one laughed hysterically, moving her hair away from her shoulder in a way as if she wanted to highlight the difference between you and her. “He’ll stay with her a couple of months and then byyyyeee”

“Yeah! He can’t afford to be seen with someone like that, all bloaty and sloppy”

Were they really saying those mean things about you when you were there listening to them?

Your gut feeling was right after all, it would've been better if you stayed home that night. You couldn’t believe your ears.

“Hey girl, what’s wrong? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost” Sophia giggled, offering you a glass of water. Unfortunately, due to your current condition, you weren’t allowed any alcohol but you would have really loved to drown your despair in some good wine.

"N - nothing…"

"You expect me to believe you? You should see your face"

You turned pale, the hand holding the glass shaking a little as your brain couldn't stop replaying the words those mean girls just said over and over again.

"Excuse me, I'm not feeling very well…" You excused yourself in a low voice, rather imperceptible, before leaving the party to go and find solace in one of Ben's bedrooms. You locked yourself in and let go to a liberating cry.

Kai's girlfriend stood there not understanding what was going on, the reason why you ran away. She did the math when she saw that bunch of girls giggling and hearing one of them saying "we got rid of her finally, all clear" she knew it was time to speak up for you.

Before she could start speaking, Mason approached her to ask about you, since he had been looking out for you around the room without finding you.

"I think she went upstairs…these bitches here have been saying foul things about her all night and she heard all of it. I -"

Mason glared at them before asking Sophia if she could go look after you.

"Y/N? Are you here?" She went calling for you at every door she found on her way until she found you shaking and crying, sitting on the floor.

"Y/N baby, what's wrong?" She sat next to you, hugging you.

Meanwhile downstairs Mason was trying to tell them off but without making a scene. While the girls were acting all giggly to have their way with him he wasn't impressed in the slightest and told them he wasn't interested as he already had an amazing woman by his side and that they should have thought twice about speaking evil of you. One of them had the nerve to confront him and say he was just wasting his time with her and Ben and Kai had to intervene to calm him down.

"You don't know her, how can you say these things??"

The party host had to ask the girls to leave his house as they were spoiling the evening.

Mason then ran upstairs to find you: when he opened the door and saw you on the floor, a crying mess, as Sophia was soothingly brushing your back, he kneeled down before you, his hands pressed on your shoulders.

"Hey, that's okay" He pulled you closer to his chest, your tears falling heavily with sadness over your cheeks, sobbing desperately.

"You're in good hands now" Your friend whispered, patting your shoulder lightly as Mason mouthed a soft "thank you" back to her.

When you calmed down a bit, he pulled you back to look into your eyes: he couldn't stand seeing your beautiful eyes all red and puffy with tears. 

"Are you okay?"

"I've had better moments" You giggled sarcastically, his fingers softly running through your hair to move them behind your ear.

Your fiancé sighed, wiping the remaining of your tears away from your face.

“I was worried something might have happened to you or the baby”

“We’re fine” You smiled softly at him “I was fine before those bitches ruined everything…”

“They can’t do no more harm, they’re gone. The awful things they said are not the truth and you know it, you’re the most beautiful, gorgeous, amazing woman ever and they’re just jealous of you, they can’t compare to you”

He pressed his forehead against yours before kissing your lips ever so gently.

“You two are the best Xmas gift I could have asked for” That confession he pronounced as a whisper gave you goosebumps and silently thanked whatever god existed for having put that man by your side.

You kept your glance down on your baby bump until Mason stretched out his hand to brush it against your tummy in a loving manner. That simple touch made you lift your eyes to meet his chocolate brown orbs that meant the world to you.

“What about leaving this place and going home to have our own Xmas party? In our own fluffy pajamas, eating all the sweets the baby wants, because she’s the one who wants them and not his mummy…”

“He’s the one! Not me!”

“That’s what I said! And remember there’s a baby boy in here” Mason said his sixth sense told him you would have welcomed a girl while you (and all his family) were pretty sure the future baby Mount would have been a boy.

“Nope, there’s a girl here”

Your little moment had been interrupted by Ben who wanted to make sure you’ were doing alright and apologise for those girls’ behaviour. You said it wasn’t his fault and gave him a hug before kissing everyone goodbye.

“No more parties for me, I get too stressed” You sighed with your eyes closed, abandoning your head against the headrest of Mason’s car seat.

“Don’t worry, baby mama. I got you” He smiled softly before taking your hand in his to kiss it. 

As long as he would have gotten you you knew everything would have been alright.

[footballffbarbiex]

player: John Stones (and a long cameo from Dias) words: 981 request: John Stones - you / your - 500 - 750 words - As I'm terribly shy and introvert, I was 🤔 if you could write sth about you and him going to a Xmas/NYE party and you struggle in fitting in and doing small talk but he helps you throughout the night and he's so careful

You stand nervously, fingers alternating between clutching and playing with your glass. John isn’t standing with you, but you’d also stressed to him that you didn’t want him to feel as though he needed to babysit you. And while it may have taken a few attempts to push him away from you, John had reluctantly moved away and engaged in conversations with some of his teammates and here you are, standing awkwardly both hoping you had someone to talk to and praying that no-one does just so you don’t have to talk while panicking. 

Wishing you could pull out your phone to give you some distraction, you take another drink instead and glance back around you. Some of the faces here are familiar, and though some of the women close by have spoken to you a handful of times at matches for both club and country, there’s no real familiarity there to enable neither you nor them to come and strike up conversation. You’ve had a few conversations, more small talk than anything, but you haven’t always been standing or sat away from everyone. 

“I’ve been sent to rescue you,” Rúben says as he appears at your side, making you jump slightly. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” he gives you a warm smile and for the first time since John left you, you feel settled. “Drink?” He offers you a flute of something sparkling and you graciously accept. 

“Rescue me from who?”

“Yourself. Don’t give me that look, I’ve been watching you too. Come my little bird, there’s food over there and I’m hungry.” he says this part loud enough for anyone close by to be listening. When he drops his voice he adds, “John’s stuck talking to someone and needs you as a diversion.”

“Oh, I have to rescue him but he couldn’t do the same.” You challenge as the two of you begin to walk. 

“Thought you didn’t want a babysitter?” Rúben replies quickly and you feel heat begin to burn at your cheeks. “Yeah, he told me. Do you want one?” he asks and gestures to the stack of plates. You shake your head and he picks one up for himself. “I get it, I don’t like these things either.” he confesses, scanning over the table and selecting a few pieces of food to add to his plate. “Especially since becoming single. It’s just you in the spotlight and everyone is looking at you. She was amazing at making me feel calm and as though no-one else was paying attention to us. Something tells me you know how that feels.” It’s not a question and yet it feels a little like one. 

“I get envious of how John can step into a room and just… be John. I’m rehearsing lines in my head before anyone has even spoken to me and more often than not, I don’t even need to use those because no-one speaks to me.”

“I’m speaking to you.�� Rúben states, giving your hand a little squeeze before turning away from the buffet now he’s happy with his food haul and begins to make his way, with you in tow, towards John. “If you ever need someone, come and get me.”

“You’re a good man Rú.”

“I know.” he flashes a grin and instead of verbally responding, you swipe something from his plate and eat it with much enthusiasm. 

“Hey!” John beams at you as you approach, his arm reaching out to pull you as close to his body as he can without it seeming too inappropriate. “I missed you,” he mutters into your hair as he places a little kiss into your hair. 

If Rúben had calmed you previously, then John has sedated you. Just having one arm around you, the feel of your body moulding to his, taking in a scent that is only John as well as the scent of his aftershave is enough to leave you feeling content again. 

“He was just speaking about you,” the man standing with John says. His expression is a happy one, there’s no malice in his tone and yet there’s a little panic that begins to rise up in you. 

“Oh is that so?”

“I was talking about the promotion you earnt.” 

Earnt. Not given. John always made sure to use vocabulary that credited you at all times but hearing it tonight made your stomach flip. When you look back at John, he beams down at you with an expression of love and adoration. He had no reason to speak of you when you weren’t close by, but to hear that he was? It made you feel good. 

“Congratulations. Does it come with a bigger responsibility list? I imagine it would.” 

It’s a topic that you weren’t expecting and in a way, talking about yourself makes you feel a little nervous even if it’s an easy topic. Rúben remains with you both, and though each person chimes in at the right moments, John lets you take the heat off him and you find yourself shedding the anxiety the longer the conversation continues. You wouldn’t say you’re “cured” for the night, but he’s making it easier. When Rúben speaks, it continues to keep the mood light and the conversation just as much so. 

Every so often you feel some small gesture from him. A light touch on your arm, a gentle stroke of the small of your back, fingers and thumb at your elbow when he reaches around you for something. Nothing too much, but enough to let you know quietly that he’s thinking of you, he wants to interact but he’s letting you have this moment. This isn’t babysitting and you realise this now, it’s him bringing you to the right people and him trying to gently guide you out of the shell you’ve been hiding in. And this is what you love about him.

[bradshawssugarbaby]

It's a Marshmallow World - Harrison Knott x Reader

A/N: My entry for @lewmagoo's Christmas Celebration, I wanted to keep it cute and fluffy and I figured since the movie is filmed in Hawaii, I'm making it that Harrison is from there too.

pairing: Harrison Knott x gn!reader

warnings/content: none, winter/Christmas-themed fluff, probably inaccuracies about Hawaii and snow (I'm Canadian but I tried researching???)

word count: 1.5k

“Ugh, I hate this song.”

You rolled your eyes as you heard the opening bars of John Lennon’s “Happy Xmas (War is Over)” playing from the wireless speaker sitting on the kitchen island. You pressed skip on your phone, shaking your head at each song after’s opening notes before finally settling on one. Harrison leaned forward on the island’s countertop and raised an eyebrow at you as he spoke.

“You’re not serious, are you? This is a classic one. Next you’re gonna tell me you hate It’s A Wonderful Life too, aren’t you?” He said teasingly, his deep blue eyes meeting yours with a questioning stare, eyebrows cocked slightly in mock disbelief.

“Of course you like It’s A Wonderful Life.” You retorted, rolling your eyes once again at your boyfriend’s taste in all things…well, old.

Harrison was an old soul when it came to just about anything relating to pop culture. He was the only person you knew who actually preferred cassette tapes and vinyl records, even CDs to streaming his music. He was one of the only people you knew who still had access to a VCR and a tape deck. He still created mixtapes over playlists and you’d almost always find him sitting on the couch watching some old movie you, and everyone else in your age group, had probably never heard of. It was part of his charm and allure for you - you loved that he was into the most niche interests, that he was always introducing you to new things, giving you a newfound appreciation for media you’d otherwise never truly encounter on your own. Before Harrison, you didn’t even know there were several channels on television dedicated to just playing classic films on a 24/7 basis, or that recording a song to a cassette tape from CD was a whole process, crafting the perfect mix was either a carefully throughout event, or a completely spontaneous act, recording whatever felt right. It was never anything inbetween - curating a collection of songs that worked together to tell a story was a work of art in itself, one that Harrison had mastered somehow. 

“Please, everyone likes It’s A Wonderful Life.” He scoffed.

“Not everyone, Harrison. Pretty sure you’re the only person under 50 who loves it.”

“Listen, it’s a great movie. We could sit and argue all day long about it, but it’s a classic for a reason, baby. Jimmy Stewart is unmatched. Meet Me in St. Louis is another great one, my mom always loves that one.” 

“I’m surprised you haven’t mentioned White Christmas yet.” 

“About that. I like it, don’t get me wrong. But I’ve never actually experienced a white Christmas, so the movie’s magic is sort of…lost on me,” Harrison frowned, shrugging his shoulders.

This was his first Christmas since moving across the US from his hometown in Hawaii to Washington, D.C. for medical school, and you knew better than anyone else that he was dying to see snow for Christmas. In fact, he was about the only person in the city who was sad when the weather forecast had predicted that Christmas morning would be uncharacteristically mild and sunny. Normally, he wouldn’t care what the weather was, but this time, being so far from home and not being able to get back for the holidays this year, he longed for the snow and winter sports he’d been promised when he had looked into the weather in D.C. before moving there. He sighed as he looked out the window each day as Christmas drew closer, with not a snowflake in sight. 

Harrison turned his attention back to washing up the dishes from tonight’s dinner. You padded along the hardwood flooring to the living room, looking out the window as you bit your lip absentmindedly, watching the sky for any sign of snowfall to appear. You furrowed your brow at the clear night sky, stars twinkling brightly as they dotted the darkness outside. You closed the curtain, smiling softly to yourself as you nodded your head once. You had an idea - a pretty farfetched one, but, one that would surely make Harrison feel a little less disappointed about not seeing his first white Christmas this year. 

You disappeared upstairs, searching the house for the tote of spare holiday decorations you had stashed away, unsure of where to place its contents earlier when you were in your decorating frenzy a few weeks ago. Rummaging through the plastic storage bin, you pulled out a large piece of white felt, intended as a base for your mom’s handmedown Christmas village that you’d set out every year as a child. She’d gifted it to you, and although you loved it, your small apartment didn’t have the space to display it. However, the extra fabric and faux snow and ice that came with it, you now knew exactly what to do with. 

Taking a pair of scissors, you began crafting and cutting the felt into snowflakes, thanking your lucky stars for your education degree and chosen career path of becoming a kindergarten teacher, allowing you to get creative at lightning speeds when required. Each piece of felt that hit the floor beneath your feet would come in handy, adding to your false winter wonderland that you were creating. After a few minutes, you’d created a few large snowflakes and a decently sized pile of scrap pieces small enough to sprinkle along the floor to mimic freshly fallen snowflakes in your living room. 

As Harrison was distracted with dishes and tidying the kitchen up, you got to work, hanging your felt snowflakes from some ribbon you’d found, leftover from Christmas wrapping, the strings dangling from the door frame, hanging down to look like falling snow. You sprinkled your pieces of felt along the floor, creating what would appear to anyone else, as a complete mess, but to you? To you, it was the white Christmas that Harrison had always hoped for, or at least, the best alternative you could create for it. 

Once satisfied with your makeshift snowfall, you set your speaker up in the living room, setting up a winter-themed playlist on your phone. You practically skipped your way out to the living room, calling Harrison’s name in a cheerful, sing-song lilt as he finished cleaning the kitchen counter.

“Harrison! Come with me for a sec, ok?”

Harrison raised an eyebrow at you, his toned biceps flexing as he folded his arms across his chest, his caramel brown sweater tightening on the curve of his muscles as he did so. Harrison reluctantly closed his eyes and took your hand, following you into the living room. As he opened his eyes, he went silent for a moment, before bursting into a laugh, shaking his head as he smiled and looked around.

“What is this?” 

“Your white Christmas that you wanted. I can’t make it snow, but I can pretend to at least, I figured it’s something better than green, muddy, mild weather outside.”

Harrison remained speechless for a minute before laughing again in disbelief.

“You’re something else, babe, but I appreciate it.”

As Harrison wrapped his arms around you tightly, he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, kissing your skin gently as he hummed softly.

“I love it, thank you.”

“I know it’s not much, but, I know how badly you wanted to have snow for Christmas too.”

Harrison continued to press his lips against your neck, leaving feather-soft,  gentle kisses to you, showering you with affection in thanks for your consideration towards his feelings. You knew a makeshift mess of felt and some kindergarten-level snowflakes weren’t going to make everything better, but, you made him smile, and that was all that mattered to you. 

As Dean Martin’s voice crooned out the beginning of It’s a Marshmallow World on your playlist, your eyes darted to the window once again. You couldn’t help but laugh half-heartedly as you shook your head, giving Harrison a playful swat on the arm to get his attention. His lips peeled away from your neck just long enough for him to gaze out the window, his eyes widening as he made his way closer to the glass to get a better view on what was happening outside. Large, white, fluffy specks were falling from the sky, beginning to coat the ground below in patches of white. 

“It’s actually snowing!” Harrison said with a childlike excitement to his voice, shaking his head as his sapphire blue eyes remained wide and full of wonder as he watched the snow falling, essentially, for the first snowfall he’d ever witnessed. 

You joined Harrison’s side at the window, unable to do anything but smile at his sheer excitement at the weather finally granting his wish two days before Christmas morning. You knew there was always the chance it could be gone and melted by tomorrow, but you didn’t want to burst Harrison’s bubble. Not tonight.

Tonight, you couldn’t help but fall in love with him even more as he watched the snow land on the ground, covering everything in a blanket of white as Dean Martin continued to sing in the background.

“In winter it’s a marshmallow world…”

[abitohoney]

All I Want for Christmas Is You

Chapter 2 of 6 - There's Nothing Sweeter AO3 link

CH1 || CH2 || CH3 || CH4 || CH5 || CH6

Sevika x female reader

Rating: Explicit, MDNI, 18+, NSFW

Tags: Sevika/Reader, AU - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Lesbian Sex, Cunnilingus, Teasing, Humor, Vaginal Fingering, Orgasm Delay (nothing extreme), Begging, Strap-Ons, Face-Sitting, Corny & Cheesy Dialogue, kinda sappy

Word Count: 3.9k

Fic Summary: It’s your first year spending the holidays with Sevika, and though the two of you couldn’t be any different in your level of holiday spirit or view of the traditions that come with it, your shared adoration (and sexual attraction) for each other is more than enough to get both of you through it together.

A collection of little holiday-inspired scenes, technically chronological, but really could be read in any order or as stand-alone oneshots. Includes a nice blend of sugar (fluff) and spice (smut).

Chapter Summary: With an upcoming holiday party to attend, you decide to bake cookies as your contribution to the potluck. Despite Sevika's insistence not to be involved, you're not about to let her get out of this one so easily. (A good dose of fun, a bit of fluff, and just a hint of smut if you squint.)

AN: Another fic already complete on AO3 that I'm bringing to Tumblr. Guess it's Xmas in April. 🤷‍♀️

“C’mon Sevika!” you plead, “It’ll be fun!”

“No.”

“What can I do to change your mind?” you ask.

“Nothing.”

Determined not to let Sevika weasel her way out of yet another holiday tradition, you take a moment to mull over a way to convince her. You lean forward over the kitchen island as your eyes wander over her stoic expression from where she sits at the kitchen table nursing a drink. It’s a quick movement, but you catch the moment her gaze drops to your exposed cleavage before flitting back to your face.

Gotcha!

“Tell you what,” you start, a playful lilt to your tone, “If you help me with the cookies, I’ll let you have your way with me after we finish them.” Confident you’ve got this in the bag, you make no effort to hide the smile that knowledge elicits.

“You’ll let me have my way with you regardless,” she replies with her own cocky grin.

Well that didn’t go as planned.

“What if I don’t let you this time?” you challenge her. It’s a long shot, but by Janna you are going to get her to drop the Grinch act.

Sevika raises a single dark brow, calling your bluff.

“Don’t give me that look!” you snap, “I can turn down your advances.”

She simply keeps that damn smirk in place for a moment longer, testing your resolve.

When she suddenly stands, chair scraping noisily across the floor, you immediately straighten up. Unsure what exactly she intends to do, you nervously watch as she strides around the island and towards you. You spin to face her as she comes up behind you. Crossing your arms across your chest, you crane your neck to stare up at her with as much defiance as you can muster beneath her towering height.

Her smirk softens into something more… suggestive , and you realize there’s no way you’re winning this round. Slowly- purposefully- she places her hands against the side of the counter, one on either side of you and effectively cages you in place.

The combination of her proximity, the confidence she exudes, and the anticipation of her touch- it all makes short work of what little resolve you have remaining. Your once furrowed brows relax and your arms slip down to your sides. Peering up into her stormy eyes, you silently plead that she let you have this. For once. But, it seems she isn’t going to as you watch her slowly lower her head and bring her lips towards yours. Eyes fluttering shut, you feel her soft lips ghost over yours, but when you lean in for the kiss, she pulls away.

Damnit! She did it again!

She played you. Just as she did with the damn Christmas tree decorating the other day. You even knew that was what she was doing and yet you still fell for it. However, this time, rather than feeling frustrated and angry, you feel hurt. The holidays are important to you, so she should make an effort to spend them with you regardless of how silly or frivolous she finds it all. You turn your head away from her, unwilling to let her see your defeated expression, but her thumb and index finger gently catch you by the chin.

“Hey,” she says softly, but you can still hear the remnants of mirth in her tone. She guides your head so you’re forced to look up at her again. Releasing a deep sigh, her broad shoulders slump in defeat. “I’ll help you.”

The way your face lights up brighter than the fucking Christmas tree has her lip twitching and threatening to turn into a genuine smile. Still gripping your chin, she finally presses her lips fully against yours.

Wrapping your arms around her neck, you try to return the kiss, but you can’t contain the wide smile that spreads across your face.

When she pulls back to gaze down at your expression, she shakes her head and releases a quiet, short chuckle. “You’re ridiculous,” she murmurs and pushes herself away from the counter and subsequently you. “Now what the hell do you want me to do?”

Still beaming with excitement, you try to keep it in check before it drives her to change her mind. “You’re going to help me roll out the dough and cut some festive shapes. It’s simple. I’ve got two stations set up. Just watch me and do what I do.” You explain and make your way to the other end of the counter where you have a large bowl of dough prepared. Several cookie cutters, a bag of flour, several cookie sheets and a pair of rolling pins line the rest of the space.

Sevika releases an exaggerated sigh -one that you choose to ignore- before moving to stand in her designated spot.

“So start by putting some flour on the counter, so the dough doesn’t stick. Coat your rolling pin too,” you instruct while performing the actions. You turn to watch Sevika, and although she’s donning her typical grumpy expression, she proceeds to repeat the process as instructed. Once satisfied with her performance, you grab a large portion of the dough, set it on the flour coated counter and start rolling it out. “You need to get the dough flat enough for it to bake properly. About the width of your pinky finger.” Glancing at Sevika’s human hand, you quickly amend that statement, “ My pinky.” That at least earns you a hint of a smirk.

The two of you work in unison while you occasionally peer over at her work. Impressed with how well she’s followed along so far, you decide to let her have at it on her own for a while and concentrate on your batch. Dough at the right thickness, you grab a cookie cutter and start making an assortment of holiday shapes. “Once you have the right thickness just start cutting out as many cookies as you can before placing them on the cookie sheets,” you explain.

With your first round all cut, you turn to check Sevika’s process, only to find she’s been cutting hers using her fucking prosthetic fingers. “Sevika! What the hell?” you holler, face contorting in disgust.

Sevika turns to you, brows furrowed. “What does it look like?”

“Like you’re cutting the cookies using your fucking nasty ass prosthetic finger!”

“Would you prefer I use the fingers I fucked you with this morning?” she asks, arching a brow.

That - catches you completely off guard. “What?! I- No! I mean- you did clean them afterwards, didn’t you?” You had planned to tell her to just use the cookie cutters , but the fact that her statement seemed to imply her fingers are dirty has completely derailed your thought process.

“No. You cleaned them… with your mouth,” Sevika replies. Her dark lips curl into a haughty smirk as she waits for your reaction.

Again, you’re unprepared for that response. “That- that is not cleaning them, Sevika. Janna, please tell me you’re just messing with me!”

She simply grins at you for a long moment, just taking in your dumbfounded expression with a sick satisfaction.

Throwing your hands up in the air dramatically, you decide it doesn’t even matter at this point. “Just use the damn cookie cutters please. And make sure your hand IS clean.”

“Guess you need to work on your instructions,” she sneers.

You’re tempted to form a retort to that snarky remark, but you opt to bite it back when she does- in fact- grab a cookie cutter and start using it. You can’t help but wonder if her act was simply an attempt to get out of doing the task. If she sucks at it, you won’t ask her to do it.

Ha! Not getting out of it that easy.

Both of you return to working in silence until all the dough is used up. Sliding the baking sheets into the oven and setting a timer, you turn to regard Sevika with a pleased smile. “See! That wasn’t so bad now was it? Kinda fun, right?” If the scowl she’s wearing is any indication, you’d bet she’s got something less than positive to say.

“Yes and no.”

Brows furrowed in confusion, you ask, “Yes and no… what?”

“Yes it was bad and no, it was not kinda fun ,” she replies, her tone particularly snarky as she mocks your words.

Grinch.

Determined not to let her spoil the fun, you reach a hand into the flour. You grab a small handful before allowing a devious grin to spread across your face.

“What are you smil-” Sevika’s question halts as you toss the flour at her forehead, covering the top of her head and a good part of her face in little flecks of the white powder.

“ You … need to lighten up,” you tease, making no effort to hide the mirth in your tone. Your smile only grows as you watch her stand there, eyes shut tight and nose scrunched up. She looks downright adorable. “Look! It snowed!” you continue to tease her.

Sevika slowly opens her eyes, and oh boy does she look very displeased. Her brows form a deep v-shaped line.

You should probably be worried, but you’re too caught up in just how clever you think you are. It isn’t until her entire expression shifts that you realize just how in trouble you are.

Her brows relax, causing several bits of flour to slide down her cheeks and onto the floor. Then, ever so slowly, her tight lined lips start to curl up at one corner.

Oh shit.

Starting to back away cautiously, you watch with worry as Sevika dips her human hand into the bag.

While slowly removing her hand- which is clearly overflowing with the white substance- her eyes never leave yours.

About to spin on your heels and run, you find you’re just a bit too slow. An absurd amount of powder hits you smack in the center of your face. You manage to close your eyes in time, but only just. It coats your face. After swiping as much as you can away from your eyes, you carefully open your eyes.

Sevika stands before you, grinning wide and looking ever so proud of herself.

From your periphery you spot the leftover flour coating your station and you withhold your smile this time. You can’t let her know what you’re thinking. Moving swiftly, you scoop up as much of the remnants into both hands before chucking it in her direction.

She raises her hands, but too late, as you manage to get a decent chunk on her face, hair and neck.

Now you’re the one grinning- not to mention cackling- as you watch her attempt to dust herself off. Before she can return her attention to you, you grab another good handful and throw it in her face. And luck must be on your side, as you manage to time it just as she opens her mouth to say something. As she sputters and coughs- white clouds of flour shooting from her mouth- your giggles burst into full on belly laughter. One hand on your chest as it shakes, you raise the other to swipe away a tear as it slips from your eye.

“You little-” Sevika growls, withholding the curse that she'd let follow if she were talking to anyone other than you.

“Don’t be such a sore loser!” you tease between your fits of laughter.

Stormy gray eyes catch yours, locking onto them as she snatches the entire bag of flour in her metal hand.

Your laughter stops immediately.

Oops!

She stalks towards you, closing the gap almost immediately.

“Sevika! Wait!” you cry out. You turn to book it in the other direction, but she catches you by your forearm.

With one swift tug, she spins you around to face her. She grins down at you with the most sinister- no- just downright evil look on her face as she raises the bag above your head.

You are so screwed.

Throwing your free hand up to shield as much of your face as you can, you try one last time to plead with her. “Sevika please! Don’t! You’re gonna waste-” Your plea is cut short as you feel the entire contents of the bag come raining down on your head. You close your eyes and mouth while holding your breath. The hand over your face proves to be useless as the powder easily slips down and over every square inch of your topside.

When the dust- or, rather, flour- finally settles, Sevika releases your arm and you clear your face as much as you can. It’s almost a losing battle, as more just falls down from the top of your head.

I’m the ridiculous one?  

Her wide smirk is still well in place when you finally blink up at her. And oh does that just irk you even more. Peeved that she wasted the entire bag of flour, you’re now the one wearing a nasty scowl.

“Don’t be such a sore loser,” she sneers.

Although you don't appreciate her mocking your words yet again, it's hard to be mad at her when she gently runs a thumb across one of your cheeks to brush more flour off. It's a tender gesture, meant to subdue you. And of course it works.

“You are just awful sometimes,” you grumble. You're not truly mad at her. Looking down, you find your sweater is- as expected- completely coated. Slipping your fingers beneath the hem, you pull it up and over your head, trying to keep it inside out to prevent further mess. Not that it matters. The floor is just as much of a disaster as you are. It even seeped beneath the sweater and between your cleavage. “It’s in my bra!” you gripe.

“You could take that off too.”

Not gonna happen. You know what that would lead, and it's going to have to wait until later. Tossing your sweater onto the counter, you shoot Sevika a glare. You dust off your breasts and try to shake any remnants out of your bra. You’re about to throw her a smart comeback when the timer goes off. Sighing, you head to the oven, trying to ignore how powder falls from your head with each step you take. Grabbing an oven mitt, you pull out each cookie sheet and set them aside to cool. You release another sigh when you turn to look at the floor. “Guess we can clean this up while the cookies cool.”

Sevika says nothing as you move to fetch a broom and dust pan. She just watches you with a smirk from where she leans back against the counter.

Holding the broom out for Sevika to take, your eyes flit to hers when she doesn’t take it. “Don’t think I’m cleaning this by myself,” you scoff when she simply raises a brow. She finally takes it after you shove the handle into her chest. You kneel on the tile floor, grumbling to yourself as you wait for her to sweep the flour into the dustpan you place near the messiest area.

It takes a good six or more rounds of filling and emptying the dustpan to get the majority of the flour cleaned up. Just as you’re collecting the last chunk, you see Sevika’s index finger come into view before she slips beneath your chin.

She guides you to look up at her. She’s still smiling, but it’s much softer now. “That was… entertaining .” Her words come out forced, but sincere.

She had fun - and damn if that doesn’t bring your smile right back. You feel her apply a gentle pressure beneath your chin again and allow her to guide you up and to your feet. Eyes locked on hers, you set the dustpan off to the side while she leans the broom against the island. Remnants of flour remain in her hair and on her face. It’s a rather humorous site. Your smile grows, as does her lopsided grin. You assume she must be thinking the same thing about you.

Stepping closer, she cocks her head as she brings her lips to yours in a tender kiss. It’s brief, but sweet and she releases your chin when she breaks away.

As she smiles down at you, and you up at her, you’re certain she feels the same level of adoration for you as you do for her.

“What’s next?” she asks quietly, breaking the silence.

Feeling a bit disappointed that the tender moment is over, you avert your gaze to the cookies. They should be cool enough by now. Now comes your favorite part, and that at least helps keep your spirits up. “Time to decorate them! Why don't you move the cookies to the counter while I grab the icing and sprinkles.”

Sevika, obviously less enthused, reluctantly follows your instructions and starts moving the cookies to the island.

“So there’s no right or wrong way to decorate them really,” you say as you return to the counter with a fairly large plastic tub full of sugary toppings. “Just make them look fun and festive.” You’re not surprised when she says nothing in response, but what does surprise you is that she starts taking out various items and turning them over in her prosthetic hand.

She silently watches you decorate a wreath shaped cookie before starting to work on her own. She mimics yours, using the same colors in the same places. And though she could definitely work on her technique, you’re impressed by her attempt.

“Nicely done,” you say with a smile.

Your praise earns you a quiet, disinterested hum from Sevika while she grabs another cookie and starts decorating on her own.

The two of you work in comfortable silence until there are only a few cookies remaining.

Grabbing a gingerbread man shaped cookie, you decide to test your own skills and make something a bit more… unique .

“Is that supposed to be me?” Sevika asks just as you finish.

You turn to her, a proud smile plastered to your face. “Yes. It is actually,” you reply and hold up the little gingerbread man- or, woman- for her to better see. One arm is decorated in copper and purple icing. The head is covered in short, black hair. You even gave it a little cropped top and low-cut pants. “You look so sweet! I could just eat you up!” you tease. “Get it? Cause this is you- as a cookie- and cookies are sweet.”

Releasing an exaggerated sigh, Sevika shakes her head at you before returning her attention to her Christmas tree shaped cookie.

“Oh come on! It was funny!” you insist. You catch the corner of her mouth twitch despite her clear attempt to hide her smile. “You think I’m cute and funny. Admit it. I saw you smile.” Not really expecting her to admit it, you simply smile to yourself and grab the last cookie to decorate. Just as you’re adding the finishing touches, you see Sevika’s prosthetic slowly slide across the counter and into your view, pushing a cookie along with it. You stare at it for a moment. It’s also a gingerbread… woman . If the fucking tits she put on it are any indication. “Sevika! Seriously?” you ask incredulously. It even has little nipples.

“It’s you,” she replies, no hint of shame in her tone. Not that you’d ever expect that. “Now you look good enough to eat. Again.”

Your attention flits to her face to find her smirking. Janna is she only ever happy when she’s toying with you? Damn sadist. Damn gorgeous, sexy, sadist who seems to have forgotten these are for a party. “You can’t decorate them inappropriately like that! We’re bringing these to Silco’s holiday party!” you chastise her and plant your hands firmly on your hips.

Sevika reaches for the cookie, keeping those gray eyes- full of mirth- locked on yours as she raises it to her mouth- and fucking licks the icing tits right off. “There,” she states simply and places the cookie down with the rest of them.

“For fucks sake Sevika! We can’t bring ones you’ve licked either!” Oh you are just so done now. The way she just grins so arrogantly at you is a clear indication that she’s doing this on purpose. Probably has something else brewing in that wicked mind of hers-

“How about I lick your real tits instead?” she asks and steps closer, invading your space- for the second time this morning.

“Stop- stop distracting me,” you stammer. Damn she’s got you so flustered. How does she just use her presence- or that deep, raspy tone- to switch the mood of the room in an instant?

“Stop distracting you ?” she chuckles. “Babygirl, you’re the one who's been distracting me all morning with your tits on display.”

Ok. She’s got a point.

Mouth open, you’re about to tell her to control herself, but that thought quickly empties from your head the moment you feel her hands on your bare waist.

She gently turns you so you’re facing her and crowds you, forcing your back against the counter. Gray, hungry eyes watch your wide, innocent ones for just a moment before she lowers her head. Pulling down one of the cups of your bra, Sevika presses a kiss to the curve of your breast. Her other hand- the one made of flesh, skims up your abdomen to cup the other breast.

You sigh, letting your head fall back as you feel the warmth of her large hand through your thin bra. Her name spills from your mouth in a soft moan when she sucks at your flesh in time with the squeeze of her hand. You thread your hands into her hair to pull her face closer. The familiar ache of arousal spreads from your core and down your legs when she takes your nipple into her mouth and sucks gently. Then she clamps down with her teeth and your legs threaten to give way. She must notice this, as you feel her metal claws sink into the flesh just below the breast she’s currently teasing with her tongue.

Finally releasing you from her mouth, Sevika straightens up to admire how you gaze up at her through hooded eyes. “Shower?” she asks, tone deep and suggestive.

You nod, not trusting your own voice with how turned on you are.

“You got a little something on your mouth,” she purrs.

Before you reach up to wipe away whatever it is, you catch the glint in her gray eyes. She’s got something planned.

She brings her hand up with a small amount of icing on the pad of her thumb and spreads it across your parted lips. Leaning down she captures your mouth in a passionate kiss. Her tongue teases over your lips, withdrawing another soft moan from your throat. When she breaks the kiss, leaving you breathless and dizzy, she bends down to scoop you up into her arms bridal style.

Wrapping your arms around her neck, you smile up at her as she carries you towards the bathroom. You give her a quick peck on the cheek. “How do I taste? As sweet as sugar?” you ask playfully.

With a cute, crooked grin, she replies, “Babygirl, there's nothing sweeter than you."

next chapter >