#I love real pumpkins and the smell there of | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

heatherwitch · 4 months ago

Text

Bedridden witch: Seasons edition

I made a series for The Wheel of the Year many years ago but I realize that not everyone follows it and dividing suggestions into the four seasons as well might be more helpful for some!

Spring 🌿

Collect the first rain of the season and keep it in a jar

Drink floral or fruit teas

Burn floral or fruit scented candles

Light a candle or turn on an electric candle.

Open the curtains to let light in.

Visualize a light cleaning each and every room in your home.

Decorate with dried, fresh or fake flowers.

Spray a cleansing spray throughout your bedroom.

Clean an area in your home, big or small. (It could be as simple as making a pile of trash so it’s easier to move later.)

Bathe yourself (either in the tub or sponge bath style). Infuse some herbs/flowers into the water!

Water your plants and whisper blessings to them.

Plant something new! It can be as simple as a beansprout in a paper cup.

Meditate and imagine yourself out in your favorite area in spring.

Make a terrarium.

Spray floral water in the air and on your bedsheets.

Watch for and welcome the returning birds

Learn about local plants.

Crack open all your windows to let in some fresh air.

Bedridden witch: Garden edition

Summer ☀️

Make sun water/tea

Drink fruit teas, infused water or juices

Burn floral or fruit candles

Decorate with flowers and crystals.

Wake up earlier than usual to enjoy a full day of light.

Try to be awake and witness both the sunrise and sunset.

Decorate your windows with rainbow prisms.

Make flower crowns with fresh, dried or paper flowers.

Make sure sunlight and fresh air can reach you.

Enjoy some fresh fruits, veggies, nuts and seeds.

Decorate with/wear/create things with bright colors:

Decorate a new pot for your plants (painting, sharpies, ribbons, etc.)

If you can, put a bird feeder outside your window or just watch them as they fly by.

Pour an offering of water for the plants (indoors, outside or out the window).

Have a picnic (outside, on the kitchen floor or in bed).

Find a way to incorporate honey into your day (scrubs, food, tea, etc.)

Burn beeswax candles.

Listen to music that just sounds like summertime.

Autumn 🍂

Collect the first rain of the season and keep it in a jar

Drink spiced tea, apple ciders

Infuse berries into water.

Burn spiced, woodsy or autumn scented candles

Eat things like breads, nuts, grapes, pomegranates, pies, apples and root vegetables.

Start a new project like crocheting or knitting. This is also a great time to finish that project you’ve been avoiding.

Wear and decorate and create with browns, golds, dark greens, oranges and yellows.

Decorate your home to make it look more like Autumn (fake or real leaves, acorns, paper cutouts, etc.)

Create a picnic/feast wherever is reasonable, with a little bit of everything.

Pull up a video of leaves falling or a fire crackling.

Pumpkin pie, pumpkin spiced-things, pumpkin seeds.

Decorate with small pumpkins, paint them or draw on them if carving is too high-energy.

Create an altar honoring loved ones who have passed on, either a material one or a photo album online.

Pull up a video of a burning fire or light candles.

Turn off all of the lights and sit/lay in darkness.

Visualize your wards and boost your home protection.

Do spirit work/leave offerings for the spirits.

Burn incense/make a spray that smells of spices (cloves, basil, etc.)

Watch spooky/witchy movies.

Winter ❄️

Collect the first snow/make snow water and keep it in a jar

Drink seasonal teas, ciders and hot cocoa

Burn spruce, pine or winter scented candles

Watch gifs/videos of snow, ice forming, fire crackling, etc.

Get/make a small wreath and keep it indoors!

Keep clear quartz and snowflake obsidian around.

Make paper snowflakes! Or find an app/website where you can do a digital one.

Use your heat to draw sigils on frosted windows.

Put a bird feeder outside your window so you get winter visitors!

Get empty glass ornaments and fill them with herbs/pine needles/things that remind you of winter and hang them around.

Get some cute little snow globes.

Decorate with winter colors! White, blue, silver, grey, dark green, etc.

Create an apple pomander with cloves or dried orange slices.

Decorate with evergreen boughs, holly, pine cones, etc.

Wash your face with snow/cold water.

Make rosehip, peppermint, vanilla, rooibos or spiced tea.

Step outside/open a window to feel the cold air (if you live somewhere warm, do this in the early morning/night).

Handcraft gifts for loved ones or write heartfelt cards/letters to the people you care about.

Put birdseed outside/a bird feeder by your window.

Make a simmer pot, or use this idea to create a scented spray.

Bedridden witch: Winter edition (more ideas in this post!)

You may also like:

Bedridden witch series

Bedridden witch: Wheel of the year edition

Bedridden witch: Elements edition

Bedridden witch: Weather edition

Bedridden witch: Nature edition

Witchcraft for the chronically fatigued

Spoonie witch masterpost

#bedridden witch #bedridden witchcraft #bedridden magic #spoonie witch #low energy witchcraft #this has been completed in my drafts for over two years I completely forgot about it!#another bedridden witch post coming soon too!#chronically ill witchcraft #spoonie witchcraft

277 notes · View notes

magical-reid · 2 months ago

Text

A Thanksgiving to Remember

Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader (No use of Y/N)

Genre: fluff

Content warnings: none

Word count: 1.3K

Prompts: #28 “You owe me.” “I owe you $20, not a day of pretending to be your partner to get your parents off you’re back.”

#47 “I think I’m falling in love with you.” “I think I’m okay with that.”

Summary: At Thanksgiving, you enlisted Spencer to help you with your family's endless questions about your love life by pretending to be your boyfriend, and he agreed without hesitation. As the day unfolded, Spencer effortlessly charmed your family, and by the end of the evening, you realized your feelings for him had shifted into something deeper, realizing you were falling in love with him for real.

It was Thanksgiving at your parents' house, and you were already regretting your decision to come. The smell of roasting turkey and pumpkin pie filled the air, mingling with the sounds of laughter and clinking dishes. As always, your extended family was gathered in the living room, and they were doing what they did best—asking the same questions.

“So, still no boyfriend?” your aunt Marge asked, her voice high-pitched and just a little too loud for your taste as she passed you a plate of mashed potatoes. “You’re not getting any younger, sweetheart.”

You forced a smile, taking the plate from her hands. “Aunt Marge, I’m good, really,” you said, trying to deflect the conversation.

Your cousin Rachel piped up, “Yeah, it’s about time you found someone. You should really try online dating or, I don’t know, maybe—”

“I’m fine,” you said again, cutting her off. "Really."

But it didn’t end there. Every time you turned around, someone else was there with their unsolicited advice or questions about your non-existent love life. It was exhausting.

You sighed quietly, trying to tune out the noise, but there was no getting around it. “Maybe I should just bring someone next year,” you muttered under your breath, picking at the salad in front of you.

______________________________________________________________

“Next year” came quicker than you would’ve like and you still didn’t have your plan set in motion and then it hit you. Your mind snapped to one of your oldest friends. Morgan.

Morgan knew you well enough to know how to get under your skin, but he also owed you something. A bet from a few months ago, one that he’d conveniently forgotten about, had never been paid off. He’d promised you $20, but you’d decided that money wasn’t going to be enough. You needed a more... creative solution.

Later, you found him in the kitchen, casually sipping from a beer bottle as he leaned against the counter, chatting with JJ about something work-related. You leaned against the doorframe and crossed your arms.

“Morgan,” you said, catching his attention. He looked up and smiled at you, eyebrows raising in that playful way he had. “I need your help.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Help with what?”

You stepped into the kitchen and lowered your voice so the others wouldn’t overhear explaining your situation. Reminding him: “You owe me.”

Morgan laughed, shaking his head. “I owe you $20, not a day of pretending to be your boyfriend to get your parents off your back.”

You shot him a pleading look. “You don’t have to pretend. I just need you to show up. You’ve been promising to pay me back for months, and now it’s time to cash in.”

Morgan gave you a skeptical look. “You’re not serious. You want me to pretend to be your boyfriend for a whole Thanksgiving dinner just so your parents stop grilling you about your love life?”

You gave him a tight smile. “Yes, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t back out this time.”

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Why don’t you ask Reid? He doesn’t have plans, and I know he would love to spend the day with you.”

You blinked. Spencer Reid. Of course.

The idea settled in your mind like the final piece of a puzzle. Spencer had always been there for you, another one of your closest friends, and there was something about the way he made you feel seen and heard that was hard to ignore. You’d never considered him in that way—until now. But he’d be perfect. Sweet, thoughtful Spencer Reid.

“Fine,” you said, nodding. “I’ll ask him. But if he says no, I’m coming back for you, Morgan.”

Morgan grinned. “Good luck with that. I’ll see you at the dinner table.”

The next morning, you called Spencer. You felt your heart skip a beat when he picked up.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Spencer, it's me," you said, trying to sound casual. "I know this is going to sound a little weird, but... I was wondering if you could help me out with something for Thanksgiving."

There was a brief pause on the other end, and you could practically hear his brain working. "Help you out with what?"

“Well, my family has been asking me a lot of questions about my non-existent love life,” you began, biting your lip. “And I need a favor. I was wondering if you’d be willing to come with me to dinner, pretend to be my boyfriend for a few hours, and—”

“I’m in,” he interrupted, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

“Wait, really?” You blinked, surprised. Spencer didn’t usually do anything unless it was deeply thought through, but he was practically jumping at the chance.

"Yeah, I mean, I don’t have any big plans. Plus, it sounds like fun."

You grinned. “Thank you, Spencer. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

Thanksgiving came, and Spencer arrived at your parents' house looking absolutely perfect. He was dressed casually, a simple button-up shirt tucked into dark jeans, but he wore it like it was tailor-made. You caught a glimpse of him as he walked up to the front door, and you couldn’t help but smile. He looked so... natural. Like he belonged here.

He was a hit from the moment he walked in.

Spencer immediately jumped into action, offering to help your mom set up the table, making polite conversation with your relatives, and even playing games with the kids. At one point, he entertained them with a few simple magic tricks, causing the little ones to cheer and clap. He was effortlessly charming, the perfect boyfriend.

And then, as you watched him pull out a chair for your grandmother and help her sit down, you realized you hadn’t been giving Spencer enough credit. He wasn’t just good at pretending to be your boyfriend—he was the kind of guy you would want to spend forever with.

Later, while everyone else was busy eating and chatting, you and Spencer took a quiet walk out back, toward the woods behind your parents’ house. The sun was just starting to dip below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange.

You both walked in comfortable silence, the air crisp against your skin as you ventured deeper into the trees. Spencer’s hands were tucked into his jacket pockets, and you couldn’t help but steal a glance at him every so often. Something had shifted between you today. He was the same Spencer you’d always known, but the way he held himself around you, the way he had stepped in without hesitation… it had made you see him differently.

Finally, after a few minutes of walking, you stopped, turning to face him. The soft glow of the setting sun illuminated his features, casting a warm light on his face. He looked at you with an expression that was a mix of curiosity and something deeper.

“Spencer,” you began, your voice quiet but steady. “I just wanted to say... thank you. You really helped me out today, and I couldn’t have done it without you.”

He smiled, but there was something else in his eyes. “I’m glad I could be here for you,” he said softly. “I’ll always be here for you.”

You took a deep breath, the weight of your emotions catching up with you. “I think I’m falling in love with you, Spencer.”

His eyes softened, and he took a step closer to you, a faint smile curling at the corners of his lips. “I think I’m okay with that.”

In that moment, you realized something you hadn’t fully acknowledged before: you didn’t need to pretend. You didn’t need to act for anyone else. Because you and Spencer—well, you were already something real.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x yn #dr spencer reid #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid series #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds series #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagines #magical-Reid

266 notes · View notes

fandomfucker · 4 months ago

Note

can I request a poly!judgement day x fem!reader, where she get stressed out and cooks and bakes as a stress response?

Baker-Poly!TJD x Fem!Reader

A/N: I’m sorry I’ve kinda disappeared lately, I’m dealing with a lot of mental issues on top of school and work but I’m jotting down ideas when I can, just don’t expect anything regularly��

Word Count: 1,383

The sickly sweet smell of vanilla filled the kitchen, spilling out into the rest of the house. The harsh tempo of a metal song reverberated throughout the house, originating from the kitchen. Clanging noises emerged as various cooking utensils clashed against metal bowls. Hurried footsteps paced back and forth on the warm-tiled-floors.

In the kitchen, pacing in front of the untidy countertops, covered in various spilled ingredients, was Y/n. She cradled a metal mixing bowl to her chest as she used a whisk and beat the dry ingredients laid in the bowl.

Small puffs of powder flew up as the whisk repeatedly hit the side of the bowl, coating Y/n’s ‘Kiss the cook’ apron as well as her face. She blew small streams of air out the corner of her mouth, fluttering strands of hair that had fallen from its updo.

Her hips swayed gently to the beat of the music, the chilling voice of Spencer Charnas from Ice Nine Kills floated around the room. “Now I’m lost on my own, in search of something real.” She sang along.

Lately, her partners, all four members of The Judgment Day, had all been on the road for almost a week now and for Y/n, work had been unbelievably stressful, what with the giant company-wide project she’d been leading. And when she’s stressed (which had gotten to be more often than not lately) she bakes. So, her partners had had her own pantry built with every possible ingredient for whatever she wanted, whenever.

The four members of The Judgment Day were scheduled to return home tonight but their flight had been delayed, prolonging Y/n’s stress baking.

There was already an apple pie and pumpkin brownies baking in the oven, and a batch of chocolate chip cookies cooling on the counter. Even though it seemed like an absurd amount of sweets, she knew that whatever she and her partners couldn’t eat or didn’t want would go to either co-workers (the other wrestlers loved her and her diet-breaking-treats) or to some of the neighborhood kids to take home.

Her brows, furrowed in concentration, straightened shot up in excitement as she heard the telltale signs of her favorite song “THIS IS MY BRUTALITY!”. She began bumping along to the rhythm of the metal music.

“Hey Siri, turn the volume up!” She half-shouted to be heard. The music got louder, now as loud as it could possibly go as Y/n finally began to loosen up. Jumping around the kitchen, mixing her wet and dry ingredients, she paid no mind to anything else around her. Not even the sound of the front door opening as her partners all walked in.

The four of them stood, shocked in a huddle just inside the door as they watched their partner belt out the lyrics to Rhea’s theme song. A favorite partner was never and never would be a thing between the group, however a favorite theme song was totally different.

Rhea’s baffled expression slowly grew into a smug smirk, as she watched her girlfriend sing and dance along to her song.

It took entirely too long for Y/n to notice that other people had even entered the house, not to mention were right behind her, watching.

“The demon in your dreams, now hear me in your scr-AHHH.” Her timing was impeccable.

Y/n bent over, one hand on her knee as the other clutched her chest, breathing heavily while her heart raced. “Holy shit, you guys scared me.”

Rhea grinned as she stepped forward, grabbing the back of Y/n’s neck, her fingers gripping her baby hairs, and gently pulling her upright as she kissed her forehead smugly. “Sorry, love.” She laughed.

Y/n all but collapsed against Rhea, laying her head against her chest, wrapping her arms around her waist tightly while Rhea held her waist with one arm, cradling her head in the other, snorting with laughter.

Y/n’s cheeks heated at the laughter, causing her to bury her face even further into Rhea until a beeping noise, one of the several timers Y/n had set, went off.

Y/n practically threw herself away from Rhea, keeping her head down as she slid on her purple monster oven mitts and grabbed the pumpkin brownies out of the oven, leaving the pie in there for a few more minutes.

The end of Rhea’s song finally came around, much to Y/n’s delight.

Until she remembered that she’d put the song on repeat to play again and the starting lyric had her partners doubled over in laughter again, much to her chagrin.

Shamefully, she walked over to her phone and took it off of repeat, skipping the song just before she turned off her phone and put it back on the counter.

Only for the next song to play to be Dominik’s theme song.

All four members of the Judgment Day were actively laying on the floor dying with laughter at this point. Finn began coughing uncontrollably in an effort to not throw up while Rhea tried not to piss herself.

Rolling her eyes, Y/n crossed her arms as she watched her partners squirm around on the ground. “Alright, guys. We get it. I like your theme music. Big whup.”

She turned back to the counter, laying out the dough she’d just mixed as she began to knead it against the flour-covered counter.

“Hey,” Damian’s hands gripped her waist from behind as he held her to him. There was still a bit of laughter in his voice but Y/n could tell he meant what he was saying. “We think it’s very endearing, muñeca. Nothing to be embarrassed about.” He kissed her temple lovingly as the other three finally peeled themselves up off the floor.

“Aht!” She yelled, almost as a reflex when she swatted Dominik’s wandering hand towards the still cooling cookies on the counter next to her.

His big brown eyes showed the hurt of a kicked puppy as he looked at her in betrayal,

“First of all, all four of you need to take a shower. Then we’re going to have dinner, then you can have a cookie. Okay?” Y/n explained, waddling towards Dominik, Damian’s hands still firm on her waist causing her to drag him along heftily.

Dominik nodded sadly, perking up significantly when Y/n placed her hands on his cheeks, bringing his face up to give him a quick peck on the lips. Sounds of protest came from around the room from the other three who had yet to receive a kiss.

“Hey!” Y/n silenced the four of them, staring into Dom’s big brown eyes. “We can have so many cuddles and kisses after dinner and showers, okay? We’ll watch a movie and have cookies, and brownies,and pie and make-outs. But after.” She bent his head down to kiss his forehead before gently pushing him away.

Prying Damian’s fingers from her waist, Y/n turned around to face him, gently pushing his chest as well in the direction of the stairs, gesturing with her finger for him to go up there.

“Dibs on the master shower! By myself,” Rhea added at the shared lewd looks from the boys.

Y/n laughed at the boys’ obvious pouting but they all made their way past her towards the stairs to use the guest bathroom upstairs, which was really about the same size as the master.

As Finn passed Y/n, he lightly squeezed her waist and gave her a small peck on the cheek. “Your secret’s safe with us, love.” He laughed.

Y/n just grumbled in response as she went back to her dough.

Rhea smirked as she got an idea, and walked behind Y/n to get to the stairs. She smacked her ass on the way, grinning wickedly at the gasp that Y/n let out.

“Rhea!” She exclaimed, trying to contain her laughter as she held her stinging flesh.

“Sorry, babe! I just couldn’t help myself!” Rhea giddily bounded up the stairs.

A small smile graced Y/n’s features as she went back to her baking. She was still stressed but now that her partners were home, they could help to carry some of the load. She didn’t have to do it alone.

#wwe #wwe raw #wwe x reader #the judgement day #the judgment day #the judgment day wwe #the judgement day x reader #tjd x reader #the judgment day x reader #poly!judgement day #rhea ripley #rhea ripley x reader #dominik mysterio #dominik mysterio x reader #polyamory #damian priest x reader #damian priest #finn balor #finn balor x reader

318 notes · View notes

izzabela · 1 month ago

Text

based on a very real text from my very real boyfriend...

pregnant!reader x price

reader probably in the second trimester

MDNI: smut, graphic descriptions of sex, p-in-v, pregnant sex, pregnant!reader, f!reader = f!genitalia, prone-bone? (yeah i think so), we are rawdogging tonight! is breeding still possible while pregnant...? (if so, then breeding),

Price is just a guy

a chill guy who loves his pregnant wife

maybe a little too much...

because when you came to him with the announcement, the blue lines a heaven-sent message from the God he didn't believe existed, everything about his brain chemistry changed

you smelled so nice, lovely in fact. intoxicating, sickeningly sweet that he put in paid paternity leave much earlier than the intended date he was supposed to. you giggled every time you felt Price's scruff over your shoulder, arm, legs- any body part that Price could get his hands on

"darling!" you'd squeal, voice pitched in ticklish joy every time his thick hairs brushed over your skin.

he didn't want to leave you, not now and certainly not in the near future.

you're so soft too. maybe it was the bundle of joy in the middle of its creation in your belly, or maybe it was the constant massages that Price gave you whenever your back hurts. whatever it was, Price's calloused hands from war meeting his angel's, it the closest thing he has to purification.

"your hands...." you'd coo at his scarred limbs. "have you been using the healing cream i gifted you?"

cream? the only ointment he needs was your supple body- his holy grail

but the thing that did it for Price, the thing that made him go insane was the obvious sign of your pregnancy- the lil' bump that showed God's immaculate gift of a woman

for every cuddle session, Price's hands swarmed your belly with feathery touches. his lips would whisper the softest promises into your plush and growing belly. "papa'll show you the world" was your favorite

for every outing you and Price had, a hand always found your belly still! touchy thing, he is, because he would not stop talking about the little pumpkin you and Price were growing together

and for every night in bed...

"mmm, honey..." you writhed in his warmth, your back against his chest. if his stubbly beard rubbing the nape of your neck was one point of bodily irritation, then your back was tingling on fire with the fine hairs of his chest

"'s nothin' love," Price mumbles against your skin, leaving little kisses that were slowly going lower and lower. "Jus' checkin' on the baby, makin' sure she's healthy."

you felt rough hands scale your body, one resting over your mouth to muzzle you, and the other slithering down before making its home over your damp underwear. if your cunt was the magic lamp, then your muffled moans were his wishes come true

"stay quiet fo' me, love," he murmurs into your ear, nibbling a little bit in the process. compliance was a new thing for you, and you were damned that listening to him made you feel... real damn good

"there's a love...." he practically growled, swiping your panty to the side and easing his fat digits into your cunt

"h-honey, the doc said-" you tried to reason with him, but a quick grip to your jaw and you were reminded about the law of your darling husband. without saying anything more, you melt into Price, letting him make work in your aching pussy

how is it possible that you were so much softer inside? so much more wet? practically coating his fingers in slick as he pumped, pumped, and pumped, his nubs in you

shaking his hand off your mouth, you looked over your shoulder with those eyes he could never say no to, and the magic word

"inside?" you plea. and who is he to deny you the pleasure?

switching positions, he lays you on your tummy (with copious blankets and pillows to support you). of course, the fucking tease makes sure to irritate you by prodding his cock at your entrance, his head kissing your sopping folds down there. you mewl, whining for him to stop playing games with you

"sorry, dove," he leans over to kiss your cheek. "was 'at mean? oh, don't cry love," he hushes you some more, before a little smile peaks through and his number one girl is back

your lips lock with his like animals in heat, like you haven't seen him in years, like it's the first time in a long time since he's had you in his arms. and as your tongues dance, his cock finally makes its home inside of you, nestling nicely in your warm, gummy walls. in fact, you're certain his mushroomy head is just touching your cervix

he doesn't fuck slow, he fucks intentionally (that's how you're carrying his future in the first place...). after getting used to your insides, his hips buck in and out, a steady, constant pace that hits every. single. spot. and his cock, oh his that lovely cock of his, stretching you out until you're crying (again) out of pleasure and wanting

"greedy lil' thing, aren't'cha wife?" his voice low and gravelly in your ear. one of his hands is over your mouth, two digits in your mouth to gag and choke, while the other arm holds your little hands in place

"y'wan' anotha one? hm? wan' another baby inside? givin' 'm a lil brother o' sister?" he teases, cock practically engraving itself in you for your walls to memorize

he does everything in his power to not cum inside, even though his words have you drooling for more. but when you squeeze him, tightening around him as he's about to pull out, his chest is on your back again as he drives himself to his own finish

"playin' dirty, lil' girl," he snarls, and you can't help but lick over his fingers in response

you can't speak with his fingers gagging you, but your mind roared with "more, more, more" and "fill me, fill me, fill me" like a mantra

and isn't the best way to thank God through worship and prayer?

your finish is visceral, flashes of white clouding your vision as you feel your thighs and legs shake. you pussy is no better, slick leaving and coating your sheets

Price is practically there, hips smashing into your round ass, hearing his flesh collide with your to create the symphony of his dreams- bonus points for your cunt adding even more music

"ah, fuck, honey i'm-!" but there's no point for Price to finish his sentence when the rest of it filled you up

you melted at the feeling of his spunk coating your walls, filling you to the brim, the fatigue of sex finally caught up to you as you began to doze off

"c'mon love," he chuckled, a little rough in his throat as he tried to keep you awake. "gotta 'elp me to not hurt our lil' one..."

you weakly flip over back onto your left side, but there's no point in fighting the sleepiness when you've already drifted into the land of subconscious. Price can only sigh at the sight, but who's he to complain? you're growing his little pumpkin

as you dreamed of your baby, images of your baby all grown, Price was tending to his garden. after all, how can she create more if not taken care of properly?

#price x reader #john price x reader #oh captain my captain #OH MY GULAY #I LOVE MY BOYFRIEND SO MUCH #captain price x reader #captain john price #call of duty john price #call of duty modern warfare 2023 #call of duty modern warfare

231 notes · View notes

seradyn · 11 months ago

Text

Fruit of Our Labor

Summary: Tav accidentally calls Astarion ‘pumpkin’ in a moment of thoughtlessness. What follows is a gentle baring of souls neither could have anticipated.

Pure tooth rotting fluff. Set in late act 1 although the relationship is much closer to where it is in act 2, but fuck it, we ball.

Also happy Valentine’s Day, this wasn’t meant to be a valentine’s fic but I just so happened to get a surge of motivation to finish it today so here we are.

Word count: 2944

Warnings: references to abuse

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It slipped out one night, while you were all sat around the fire.

The others were busy dividing up the spoils from the day’s adventures - equipment and coin passed around to those who needed it. A hearty stew, courtesy of Gale, sat warmly in your bellies, staving off the night’s chill while packs were passed around over idle chatter. The fire crackled and popped in the center of camp, but it was drowned out by the sounds of Scratch’s excited barks and the owlbear’s deep coos. They were roughhousing, no doubt.

You watched your companions fondly from your place curled up on Astarion’s lap, held snugly to his chest in a loose embrace. Surrounded by a nest of pillows that smelled of him, you felt pleasantly warm, despite his cold skin. He held a book out in front of you both, resting his chin on your head as he read, the rustle of pages being turned soothing you. You were sure if he was still alive, you could hear the gentle thumping of his heart beneath your ear, lulling you into a blissful sleep.

The evenings you two spent together, wrapped up in each other's scents, your shared warmth, had become a balm to your taxed souls. Some days it was all that kept you going, the promise of being soothed, comforted in a way that eased your wounds, either to your flesh or to your heart. His voice was a spell, his touch an enchantment, and you found yourself unable to resist his charms. He’d made you laugh on more occasions than you could count with his silver tongue, and his deep seductive purrs sent shivers to places you dare not name. Yes, you’d fallen for him. Hard.

Yet, you knew Astarion felt much the same way about you, even if he couldn’t admit it. You heard the soft sighs that parted his lips, saw the smiles that were real, like he’d glimpsed a piece of heaven, and it sat curled in his lap. The rays of sunlight he’d come to crave couldn’t hold a candle to your warmth, his undead body soaking it up greedily every time you were close. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine being embraced by the sun, with your voice a whisper on her gentle lips. He could never get enough of it. Of you.

It had taken many moons before Astarion was comfortable displaying this much affection openly. He kept the truth of his feelings close to his breast to protect himself, and from what he told you, you couldn’t say you blamed him. In his old life, before the mindflayers, affection was weakness, caring was weakness. And weakness was unacceptable, not for Cazador. He allowed no such things for his spawn, and if he found it, it would be corrected through nights of agonized bloodshed.

So you held Astarion’s hand as he learned. He was no stranger to intimacy, to late nights spent on his back, but this…this was all so very new to him. What was to hold hands, to hug, to cuddle? He may have known once, but that had been left in his grave, delivered from him by that kiss of death. You took care to remind him it was okay to take things slow, to not jump into anything he wasn’t comfortable with. You were patient. All you wanted was him to be happy, after all. Even if you weren’t sure he knew that, or would believe you if you told him.

Despite being his beloved partner, though, Astarion was still Astarion after all, and you found yourself on the end of no small amount of teasing. He always loved calling you pet names, clicking his tongue with a smirk as he purred ‘darling’, ‘beautiful’; a spider spinning a web around his unsuspecting prey. As much as it wounded your pride to admit it, you quite liked being his prey. You offered up your neck with growing delight, stifling moans and shudders each night he fed.

He enjoyed teasing you about that, too, much to your chagrin.

You weren’t going to let him have all the fun, though. Words were easy to coat in honey, and soon the whole camp rolled their eyes as you two bantered like a love sick couple. Worst of all was the pet names, which you two shot back at each other like arrows at waring rivals. ‘Little star’ made Astarion scowl in that oh so adorable way, while ‘honey’ had him preening proudly. It was fun, it was easy, and it made the unspoken emotions between you two easier to ignore.

Until it didn’t.

Once supplies had been distributed, the camp began discussing the plan for the following day. Moonrise Towers loomed far off in the Shadow-Cursed Lands, your fates locked behind its black gates. Your group would need to pick up the pace if you wanted to arrive within the next fortnight. But Lae’zel was adamant - she needed to visit the nearby crèche, and made it clear she would venture to it with or without company. She was stubborn as a mule, and Shadowheart was more than happy to seize the opportunity to lock horns with her.

You sighed as you watched the growing argument unfold. Those two could fight over the color of the sky, and somehow it always fell to you to make them see reason. Gale and Karlach tried desperately to keep things under control, but even Wyll had no luck with them. Halsin watched with a frown on his face, but knew intervening was futile. They listened to you - you weren’t sure why, but they did.

You felt Astarion turn his head towards the commotion, pursing his lips in annoyance. Normally, he delighted in conflict, especially between Shadowheart and Lae’zel, but now that he knew it would mean your own involvement, having you snatched away ruined any enjoyment he may have found in it.

“And what does our charismatic little leader think we should do?” He whispered, hoping it would distract you from your duties. You decided to let it too, burying yourself deeper into his chest, sighing deeply his scent of bergamot and rosemary. You did not want to deal with their bickering right now. You had yet to fight off a drowsiness that crept over you while you lounged in his lap, which was the only explanation you could think of for what you said next.

“We’ll just have to see what tomorrow brings, pumpkin.”

“Pumpkin?!” Astarion stiffened beneath you, a scowl appearing on his face as the tranquil atmosphere dissolved. You blinked at the clear offense in his tone, leaning back to gaze at his disgruntled expression, worry set in your own features.

“Excuse me, darling, but what exactly do I have in common with some unsightly gourd?” He huffed indignantly. The camp quieted from his outburst, several heads turning in your direction. They were wise enough to not interfere, though.

Ah, he thought it was a comment on his appearance, you realized with a sinking feeling. Astarion was sensitive to such things, as he’d shown when you learned he’d been unable to see himself since he turned. It was something he took pride in, one of the only things he could well and truly call his own. You hadn’t meant it that way, of course, but you weren’t surprised that’s how he took it, given his history. He hadn’t been overly enthused when you commented on his lovely laugh lines, or the adorable beauty mark just below his left eye, to put it mildly, and now you’d compared him to a lumpy, often deformed fruit. Guilt poked at your heart for your thoughtlessness.

“You have many things in common with pumpkins,” you said calmly. Perhaps he could see the compliment in it yet. He flared his nostrils, but you pressed on before he could protest. “They’re vibrant, beautiful, and tough on the outside, just like you.” You booped his nose playfully. “But they’re also soft, delicious, and wonderful on the inside, just like you.”

Astarion remained tense as he stared at you, scanned you, like a hawk does the calm fields for a stray mouse. The wrinkling of his nose furrowed his brow, and it took every ounce of willpower not to lean up to kiss his doubts away. His gaze slowly began to soften, a smirk spreading across his face.

“Well, I suppose when you put it that way, perhaps we do have some similarities,” he admitted with a huff. Relief flooded your veins as he settled back into the cushions, inviting you back into his lap once he was comfortable. He looped an arm around your waist, holding you close with a gentle squeeze - a silent thank you for the unexpected compliment.

Soon it was decided; you would be taking Lae’zel to see her kin the following day. There were grumbles here and there about acquiescence to the warrior’s demands, but you made it clear she was your ally as much as any of them. With plans made and bellies full, most retired to their tents, intent on getting some rest. You found yourself settling in Astarion’s, naturally. Honestly, you sometimes wondered why you bothered to put up your own tent at all. Even your small collection of books had come to join his, stacked unorganized in a corner. You carefully plucked one from the tower, sitting down with it as Astarion continued to fuss with the various blankets strewn about.

Eventually, you felt him settle, a contented sigh parting his lips. You peeked at him over the top of your book, and was surprised to find his eyes on you.

“So…about that, little pet name…” he began, his voice a low purr. You felt your cheeks flush a lovely crimson as you lowered your book, you weren’t sure if from embarrassment or from his tone.

“Ah - I’m sorry, my love,” you said sheepishly. Perhaps he was still upset about it. “I didn’t mean to say it.”

“Oh, I don’t mind at all,” he said, catching you off guard.

He wasn’t upset?

“I only hope you’ll try to refrain from calling me such things in front of our companions,” He explained. “I do have a reputation to uphold.” Another smirk spread across his face.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at that. Appearances were very important to Astarion, and though you couldn’t say you understood it, you would respect his boundaries. “‘Course ‘Star, I’ll be more careful next time.”

“Good,” he hummed, planting a soft kiss on your temple. Your lips spread in an involuntary smile as you returned to your book, a calmness returning to the tent. Though, Astarion was rarely happy with silence, and you noticed him still hovering on the edge of your periphery.

“You know,” he drawled, ducking his head to catch your gaze. You locked eyes with him, those beautiful rubies, getting lost in how they nearly glowed in the dim light.

“You do call me an awful lot of pet names, darling. Why not settle on one?”

You lowered your book again, setting it aside to grant him your full attention. “And pass up the chance to tell you all the different ways I find you beautiful? I think not.”

Astarion seemed taken aback momentarily by your answer, before he quickly recovered, puffing out his chest and smirking pridefully.

“Darling, you’re allowed to just call me beautiful,” he said, examining his nails. “I certainly wouldn’t mind hearing it more.”

It was barely detectable, but you could hear a hint of bitterness in his voice. Your smile faltered. Astarion told you enough about his past for you to know how his looks had been twisted for his master’s use; put on display and paraded around like a beloved doll. Early on in your relationship, he had made it clear he thought your interest in him stemmed from that alone, his looks. It was all he’d ever known, all anyone wanted him for. It was natural for him to believe you were the same.

You vowed to yourself that you would always make sure to remind him that was not the reason you pursued him. Yes, he was handsome, that fact was undeniable, but it was not what led you to seek him out, what had led to your trysts that turned into something more. You made a promise to always remind him of that, no matter how long it took until he believed it.

“My love…” you said softly, the words falling easily from your lips as you grabbed his free hand and held it close to your chest. Astarion stiffened at the sudden contact, and you paused, allowing him to pull away if he so desired. He never did though, and you took that as a sign to continue, placing gentle kisses on the back of his knuckles. You had to hide a smile when you felt the tension ooze from his muscles. “There are so many things about you that are beautiful, simply saying it would be an injustice.”

Astarion’s eyes widened slightly, and they scanned you for any hint of deceit, any hint of motive behind your words. You smiled warmly at him, hoping he could see all the love and adoration you poured into it.

“I think it’s beautiful when you get excited whenever you snatch a coin purse out of someone’s pocket. It’s beautiful when you tell me about the books you’re reading, and when you pout whenever Gale opens his mouth.”

Astarion let out a sharp laugh at that. He made no secret of his distaste for the wizard.

“But most of all, I think it’s beautiful when you laugh, because I think, even for just that little moment, I get to see you happy. So yes, that’s why all the pet names. Because not one of them could fully capture how beautiful you really are.”

“Darling…” he whispered, sounding almost breathless. He sat up a touch, his hand coming up to delicately cup your cheek, his thumb gliding across your skin reverently. He leaned forward, and your eyes fluttered closed as his lips ghosted across your own. The kiss was soft and delicate, gentle in a way you knew he reserved only for you. Similarly, you hoped he could feel how much you cared for him in the way you moved your mouth against his.

When you parted, he rested his forehead against yours, breaths intermingling as you held each other close.

“What did I do to deserve you?”

His voice was barely above a whisper, and your heart cracked at hearing the pain etched into it, the disbelief. What didn’t you do to deserve happiness, you wondered, but you knew how he would respond. 200 years of luring people back to a cruel master, a cruel fate, and you knew why he had to ask.

You remembered something he’d said, when you asked him about Cazador and his past. Something that made your chest ache, like it was now.

It was about time those memories were replaced.

“You existed. That was enough for me.”

You could tell he recognized them, his own words. His eyes went wide, lips parting as he heard them echoed back at him. You smiled then, pouring all the unsung emotions into that expression. You hoped he could see it, how your heart beat for him.

And maybe he did, for he quickly pulled you into a nearly crushing embrace, burying his face in your neck. He breathed deeply your scent, your essence, holding you like he was afraid you might disappear should he let go. He couldn’t lose you now. He couldn’t. He wasn’t sure his undead heart could take it.

You returned his embrace, sighing as you felt him relax into your form. You absentmindedly began rubbing circles into his back with the pads of your fingers, tracing the outline of his scars with unconditional reverence. You liked to imagine yourself massaging away some of the pain and torment of his unlife whenever you got the privilege to hold him like this. It made you both feel a little better.

Soon enough though, your body began to sag from exhaustion, the events of your tumultuous journey catching up with you. You leaned out of Astarion’s embrace, earning a slight pout from him, but you quickly assuaged his worries by placing a gentle kiss below his ear.

“We should get some rest,” you murmured, and he hummed in agreement. You laid down across your shared bedroll, opening your arms invitingly for him. He eagerly curled up over you, resting his head on your chest with a sound almost like a purr. Your arms returned around him, one hand coming up to delicately card through his silky curls, massaging his scalp as you closed your eyes.

It was moments like these you had to bite your tongue from saying the words that had begun to echo deep in the cavity of your chest. You called each other ‘love’ in teasing, but outright saying those blasted three words still frightened both of you. Even though you felt it every time you looked at him these days, your heart soaring as easily as an eagle flies, your very veins filled with nothing but adoration. But, you knew he wasn’t ready. He was still navigating the turbulent sea of his past, his present, and the rapidly approaching future. You had no desire to push him beyond what was comfortable for him.

So you would wait. You would wait until he was ready to love you. Ready to be loved. You didn’t mind, really.

You would wait an eternity for him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

First Astarion fic lets go. Will probably write more in the future, but will also probably focus on my long fic for another game first. Either way hope you enjoy 💕

#astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3 #astarion fanfic #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #bg3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 fanfiction #baulders gate 3 #baulders gate astarion

1K notes · View notes

m4nj1r0s · 9 months ago

Text

Ran Haitani relationship headcannons

- Was probably only using you for entertainment, and was 100% planning on leaving you after about a month.

- Since you two weren’t serious in his mind, mf was a MENACE.

- Got you a COLD pack when you were on your period and had cramps.

- Like my Hanma post, gives bad girl advice to Rindou.

- “Girls prefer cold packs when they’re on their period, it helps the cramps.”

- Like a week before he was going to break up with you, he noticed a rival of his making lovey-dovey eyes at you. He postponed breaking up with you just to spite his rival.

- Was extra affectionate with you if he ever saw the guy JUST to be petty to the max but he found himself doing it privately too. And.. he liked it. Rindou helped him come to the conclusion he genuinely liked you!!

- But now you can’t leave him, ever :(

- You guys have dates where you just nap together. I’m not talking like you just came over and you two were bored so you took a nap. No, no, no like this is an actual PLANNED date. It’s marked on his calendar and everything as ‘date night’ with a bunch of hearts made with red sharpie. Ran probably gets Rindou to go out so you guys can have some peace and quiet.

- “Isn’t this nice, baby?”

- “I can feel you trying to interlock our toes.”

- Probably took Rindou a while to warm up to you, but the real ice breaker is when Rindou came home drunk whilst Ran was asleep so you guys played video games and did karaoke.

- Ran wanted to tear his hair out at Rindou’s singing but he said yours was like a lullaby. 🤗

- Probably has a picture of Nahoya and Souya that he throws darts at in his room. 😭😭

- If you’re shorter than him, he loves putting things you need on a high shelf so you have to ask him to get it.

- And he does this whilst you’re using it. ☹️

- Backfires when you just ask Rindou..

- Expects you to have his picture as your lock screen and refuses to put yours as his. His lock screen is a picture of his bed.

- When you got upset he refused to have your picture as his lock screen, he tried to make it up to you by taping a picture of you to his fighting baton.

- “This is practically the same thing, actually, it’s better! Would you rather I tape it to my uniform instead??”

- He’s genuinely asking.

- You’re saved in his phone as smth like “Honeycomb suckle sugar plum pumpkin pie ❤️💜🤍🤎💚🧡💝😫”

- Wants to learn a new language with you just so you guys can talk about stuff without Rindou eavesdropping (I hc Rindou has a bad habit of this).

- He is IMPOSSIBLE to wake up, like you could try everything and he would still be fast asleep.

- Literally the only thing that makes him wake up is the smell of breakfast or any food in general

- Has a black hole as a stomach (metaphorically)

- It’s cute since you guys can have that thing together where if you can’t finish your food he will just finish it for you :)

- Type of guy to lay on his side with a rose in his mouth and his head propped up with his hand when you come home from work or whatever with careless whisper playing on in the background

- Backfires when he cuts his lip with a thorn 😭

- “I’m never doing this romantic shit again.”

————————————————————————————

I was debating making this a yandere hc post but it feels more of a normal one

It’s a pretty short hc post but I’m back now 🤭

And I will get to requests that are already in my ask box in the next few weeks, since it’s close to exam season for me 😓

788 notes · View notes

goldenlikedayl1ght · 1 year ago

Text

dress - m. murdock

a/n: i am not proud of this in the way that i will not be claiming it when i am judged by god. warnings: SMUT like real sex!!! dom!matt, p in v smut, matt has a thing for talking in bed, MATT BEING A TEASE!!! many nicknames, pining, praise with slight degradation, fluff here and there, tipsy reader and matt, i'm sure i'm missing one or two word count: 3.3k summary: ten months of yearning wears you and matt down to desperation. pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader now playing: dress - taylor swift "say my name and everything just stops/i dont want you like a best friend/only bought this dress so you could take it off."

Foggy is so mad at him.

You’re a good employee, a great employee even! You’re dedicated to your job, and you bake in your free time, so you bring in all sorts of treats—Homemade bagels, donuts, cookies—His favorite are your cinnamon chai sugar cookies you make.

You’re intelligent, well-spoken, and good at explaining the issues that you run into. And you’re funny, Foggy would argue, you have incredible timing and wit. You always buy a round at Josies. You are an amazing employee and friend, and Foggy adores you.

So why, pray tell, must Matt feel the need to have you?

He won’t say it out loud, not to Karen, not to Maggie, not to Foggy, and certainly not you. But he’s entranced by you. He loves the sound of your voice as you explain things, he loves that your heart always skips a beat whenever you’re about to deliver a one liner that will crack everyone else up, he loves that when you bake, you always make things all naturally out of desire to make the best dessert you possibly can. But most of all?

He loves that your heart rate picks up whenever he enters the room.

You, on the other hand, are pretty much fascinated by Matt Murdock. You love the sound of his laughter, you love his hands, you love his charm, you love that you can see a chain around his neck when the day dwindles and he loosens his tie, and Jesus H Christ, you love that baritone.

So, it’s safe to say you’ve both been smitten since the first day you met each other.

Yet, you spend ten months cruelly dancing around your attraction for each other.

He’s hesitant to want you in any context, he’s your boss, he’s fucking Daredevil!

By then you know—Mostly accidentally on purpose. All his usual people are out of town or busy, so when he gets stabbed, he has nowhere else to go. He winds up climbing into your window, scaring the ever-living shit out of you. It’s not how he wanted to tell you about his alter ego, but he knows he can trust you.

And you hate the site of blood and gore, so you struggle to patch him up that night. And it makes your heart ache, all the ways he hurts from his nighttime hobby. And he decides right then and there that he can’t have you, not now. Not knowing how much you would—and really, will—worry about him.

So, he buries his want in other people that have no real meaning to him. He even goes on a second date with some of them. One of them even comes to visit him in the office to have lunch.

It makes you jealous to the point where you need to take a walk to dwindle your desire to go back into the office and beg on your hands and knees for her to leave so you can have him. What happens instead is that you go get a pumpkin chai latte and take it back to the office, sitting and keeping to yourself, even when the girl comes out of his office giggling as he stands in the doorway as she leaves.

He smells the pumpkin from his office, and it drives him wild. Just from how quietly you dwell in your jealousy, as you mask it with your favorite fall flavors.

He breaks up with the girl the next day.

• • •

And a week later, he gets his official invitation to Marci and Foggy’s wedding—A big to do, full of family, friends and coworkers that make it a real party. Matt will be Foggy’s best man. You and Karen aren’t in the wedding party, as you were good friends with both the bride and groom, but Karen wanted to make sure at least one of them was focused on the firm, and you hated to be the center of attention. So, you shared your love from a few aisles back.

You had gone shopping with Marci for your dress, Karen too. You enjoyed spending time with them—While you had made friends with them easily, prior friends had never really come easy to you.

It was nice to be wanted.

But they had insisted on you trying to find different dresses that made you look amazing. And for the most part, the dresses made you sort of uncomfortable. They revealed too much or revealed too little.

And then you came across this red satin dress. It hugs your curves in all the right way, and it makes you look good. It makes you feel good. You have these perfect black heels to wear with them, and then Karen says it.

“You know, Matt kind of has a thing about textures. He loves silk and satin.” Your face burns. Of course, he does. Why wouldn’t he? He can hear people's heartbeats, tell when they’re lying, why wouldn’t he be keen on nice textures?

“Karen Page, are you insisting I should by this dress to impress a man?” You laugh just to escape your nerves.

“No! But it can’t hurt! It’s not like he’s bringing a date—” She turns to Marci. “He’s not bringing a date, right?” she asks quickly. It makes her laugh.

“No, Murdock RVSP’ed for one.” You look at yourself in the mirror again, thinking it over. And over. And over. Then you turn to your friends again, and nod.

“Alright. Alright, I’ll get it.” You grin, “And y’know.. Karen’s right, It can’t make the situation any worse.”

“You know what you need now? Good lingerie for after—” Your face is red again at your friend’s comment.

“Shut up, Marci!” You whine, heading back to the dressing room to get changed.

• • •

Matt is sitting with Foggy and his brothers, enjoying a glass of scotch before the ceremony when someone knocks on the door.

And somehow, he’s not shocked to hear your nervous heartbeat when the door opens.

“Hey Fog, Karen said you had scissors—Can I borrow ‘em quick? There’s a tag on this dress I forgot to take off and it’s impossible to reach—”

“Yes, Absolutely, and you know who would be great at helping you? Matt. An incredible knack for… Cutting things.” It’s a poor attempt to get the two of you alone, yet Foggy hands you the scissors and pushes you and Matt outside the room.

“My rooms only two doors down.” He explains, taking your hand in his and leading you there.

After finding out about his super senses, it became clear that he was more than capable of finding his way through places he’s stayed, and that he’s privy to a lot more information than people would give him credit for.

So here you are. In Matt Murdock’s hotel room. A tag itching at your back, with you unable to grab it.

“I’m just gonna—” He awkwardly reaches to the top of your dress, and you just move the hair from your neck and try to ease his anxiety.

“Just go for it, Matt. I don’t care, it’s just annoying.” You promise. And he does.

He folds the top of your dress the best he can and its only enough for the scissors to almost grab the tag without him sticking his hand down your dress. He hesitates for a second before exhaling deeply.

Then, he leans down towards your back, and scrunches the material enough so that he can reach the tag and bites the tag off.

You can feel his other hand on your hip. His hot breath on your back. He hears your heart jump as your breath becomes shaky. He wonders how bad it would be for him to skip the wedding and take you right here, in this room.

He plucks the tag from his teeth and smooths out your dress, as you let go of your hair. He feels this raw need for you.

And you feel it too. Yet he pulls away, taking a step back from you.

“We should get to the ceremony.” he said, trying to catch his breath. He yearns for you, in a way that anyone else would laugh at. It’s the type of yearning you read about in Jane Austen novels. That is the level that Matt longs to touch you. It’s desperation.

“Yeah...” You say softly, trying to recover from what just happened. You drop him back off at Foggy’s suite and head back to the hall, hoping to find Karen and put the moment behind you. And that’s just what happens. You watch the ceremony, and it’s gorgeous. You’re thrilled for Marci and Foggy, and it elates you that they put together such a beautiful ceremony.

And yet, you can’t take your eyes off Matt and how good he looks. He stands tall, and he really does look good. It makes it kind of hard to focus. It makes it really hard to focus. And you think about this all the way through their first dance song, through dinner, through cake and through all the cheesy wedding traditions Foggy insisted on.

You have a few drinks but eventually it all becomes too much, and you take a minute outside of the hall and into the cold air. And you’re thinking about Matt.

“You’re gonna catch a cold out here.”

Speak of the devil.

You turn back to him and smile.

“I’ve been thinking about you.” You say, and he hums. It’s the alcohol in both of your systems, it’s why neither of you run when you say it.

“Same goes for you, sweetheart.” He takes off his coat and wraps it around your shoulders. You note the silky texture of the inside of the jacket. It pushes you further.

“Why do we insist on playing this game? Why do we watch each other go after people who we don’t want when all we want is each other?”

He takes a moment to answer. Because in truth, he’s sure he could tell you why, he could discuss all of the horrible things that have happened to him, and you could share the same sort of stories about your own life. You could sit there and dissect past traumas for hours.

But that’s not really what you’re asking.

“I don’t know...” He says softly. His hands find themselves on your hips, and he rubs small circles into the fabric. “Satin?” You hum, melting at his touch. “Words, pretty girl. You know I like hearing your voice.”

“Satin.” You confirm, your breath catching.

“There she is...” He hums, and leans in. You feel his breath against your lip, and you take it upon yourself to close the gap between the two of you.

It’s soft, full of this hesitation because despite all the flirting, you’re still unsure of yourself. He quickly eases these fears as his hands move and you find his arms wrapped around your torso. He deepens the kiss, and you both lean into it. It becomes more desperate after that.

Your hands find their way to his hair, and you fiddle with the ends, unwilling to break the kiss, even if it means air. He breaks the kiss for a second, only to come back to your lips with more passion, biting your bottom lip, before slipping his tongue into your mouth, taking the more aggressive approach.

And you can’t take it anymore. You need him. You pull away from him, pant softly before kissing his jaw gently.

“Take me to your room.” You request. He obliges.

You find yourself taking off your heels as soon as you get in, your feet aching as you walk further into the room. The context is much different than it was this afternoon—And it makes you nervous.

Matt comes up from behind you and places his hands on your arms, rubbing them gently, before kissing your shoulder.

“You don’t have to be nervous. I’ll be gentle with you...” He says softly. You hum before he continues, “Or do you... want me to be rough with you?” he asks teasingly, landing a quick bite onto your shoulder. You make a noise of surprise and turn to him.

“You’re a tease, has anyone ever told you that?”

“Once or twice.” He begins to loosen his tie, eventually forcing it off and then starting to unbutton his shirt. You begin to help him with this task, eventually getting it all the way unbuttoned. Then you gently push him back against the bed and he laughs, falling onto it.

He thinks it’s cute. Until you sit above him, your dress hiking a bit. You lean down to kiss him as his hands find their way to the back of your thighs, and begin to move up and down, just being the tease, he is.

You whine into the kiss, and it just makes him chuckle further, before flipping the pair of you over, then planting a kiss on your neck.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart? Needy from just a few kisses?” He slips off his shirt as he continues to kiss you. One hand remains on your thigh, travelling up your thigh, eventually finding your panties.

“Mhm...” You hum, your hands wrapping around his neck again to play with his hair.

“Talk to me, sweet girl...” he says softly before he continues his assault on your neck.

“Matt…” You hum. “You know, I only—” Then his fingers find your clit and begin rubbing gentle circles, just teasing you with his fingers. It turns him from tease to cruel. You let out a moan, and he only tuts in disappointment.

“Keep talking or you won’t get anything from me.” He tells you, before continuing to tease you. His fingers begin to work on your folds. You try your best to focus. He takes off your panties and throws them on the ground somewhere.

“Only bought this dress for you... Thought you might like it...” You gasp again as he slips a finger into you, “Fuck—Thought it would make you do something about it.” In fairness, it got the reaction you had only hoped for in your wildest dreams. It makes him chuckle against your skin.

“Only got this pretty little dress for me to touch you like this?” He adds another finger and starts to move. When you don’t answer, too busy getting lost in his fingers, he bites your shoulder again. “Answer me, sweetheart.”

“Yes! God, yes…” You respond. He hums in approval, continuing to curl his fingers inside of you. It only takes a few minutes before you can feel yourself near the edge of an orgasm. “Matt… Baby, please...”

“C’mon, sweet girl... I’ve got you, let go...” And it’s enough to make you, cumming all over his fingers. He lets you ride out your high, out of breath. He kisses your neck again before bringing his fingers up to his lips, tasting your juices. “Sweet girl, still.” He smirks. Your heart skips a beat. He chuckles. Then he continues, “Did so good for me, sweetheart... Wanna keep going?” He asks.

“Yes, please... Wanna feel you inside me...” you confess.

“You want me to fill you up and stretch you out, pretty girl?” You should know better by now, but you just hum in response, gaining another bite to your shoulder. “Try again.”

“Yes... I want you so badly, Matt, please... I’ve been dreaming about it for months now,” You confess, “Need you...” He seems satisfied by this, and moves back, helping you sit up.

“Well then, we’ll need to get this pretty dress off you.” He says, his fingers working to take off his belt. Your fingers run over his chest. It’s all he can do not to rip the dress off, but he knows how much it means to you and how much it could’ve cost. So, instead, he slips the dress off you and feels you shiver against him. Still so nervous. He tosses the dress in the general direction of his suitcase, so it doesn’t sit on the floor. He leans in and starts pressing kisses to your chest, his hands reaching up to your bra and unclasping it. He throws it with much less care than the dress.

He keeps kissing down your torso as he lays you back on the bed, your hands going again to his hair.

“How come it’s fair that I’m fully naked, and you still have pants on?” You ask. It makes him laugh, and he stands straight again.

“Fair enough,” he says, taking them off. And then goes his boxers. Before you can stare at him, he’s on top of you again, kissing you deeply. You can feel his cock resting against your fold and it makes you moan into the kiss. He pulls away for just a second before asking, “Is this, okay? You’ll stop me if it’s too much?”

“Yeah, I’ll tell you.” You respond. He smiles at your words.

“Perfect. Perfect, pretty girl...” He hums as he begins to kiss your shoulders and the top of your chest, before slipping inside of you. You let out a moan, and he groans as well, taking a few minutes to take all of you in. It feels amazing. He begins to move inside of you as he brings you in for another kiss. When he pulls away, he’s talking, “Been thinking about this for... Fuck, so long...” He groans. “Been dreaming of this perfect pussy and how good it would feel around me…” He says, and it elicits a shaky moan from you.

“Faster, please...” You request, and he obliges, picking up the pace. You’ve been thinking about this for a long time too. You never imagined he’d be so controlling about the whole thing. It works you up almost as much as how vocal he is.

He leaves bites and marks down your chest as he pulls you closer to him, knowing he won’t last much longer. He feels you tighten around him and makes another demand, “Tell me how badly you want to cum, and I’ll let you.” He says this before planting a rather contrasting soft kiss to your ear.

“Please... Please, Matt, Fuck... I need to cum all over your cock... Wanna feel so good, baby...” You moan, your fingers pulling on his hair. It excites you when he moans. “And I want you to cum inside me... Fill me up, Baby, please...” You beg. He’s happy with it for now, but he knows he’ll want to hear more another time.

“C’mon, sweet girl. Cum for me…” He pants, and it’s all you need before you let yourself come undone around his cock. He continues thrusting for a few minutes, letting you ride out your high, before cumming himself, and you moan at the feeling. He lays against you for a few minutes, trying to recover, and it’s then that you notice he’s shaking.

“Are you okay?” You ask softly, brushing his hair out of his face. He looks at you with those gorgeous brown eyes. He laughs at your question.

“I’m great... You’re just... amazing...” he says honestly, kissing your shoulder one more time. “Perfect, pretty girl...” He praises. “My perfect girl...” It makes you shudder. He stays like this for a moment more before kissing you softly. Then, he sits up and goes to get a towel to clean the both of you up. And then, he’s back in bed with you. He pulls you close as you both recover from what just happened.

“I wasn’t lying,” You start, “I’ve been thinking about you for months. You’re all I’ve wanted for so long...” You confess. He kisses your head and pulls you closer.

“Me too... I was too much of an idiot to tell you though. Almost let you get away.”

“You got me.” You affirm. He hums and begins to rub all too familiar circles into your hips with his thumbs.

“And now I just want you more.”

The feeling is mutual.

#matt murdock x you #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock smut #matt murdock being hot #matthew murdock #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil #daredevil fic #first smut #yearning #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock fanfic

2K notes · View notes

winchesterwild78 · 2 months ago

Text

Thankful for You

Master List

Characters: Dean Winchester X Reader (wife), Sam Winchester, Eileen Leahy, Cass, Jack

Warnings: Just a little holiday fluff.

A/N: Just a short story about Thanksgiving Day in the bunker. The reader and Dean are newly married and she wants their first Thanksgiving as a married couple to be perfect.

I picked Dean instead of Jensen or any of his other characters, because Dean was the one who wouldn’t know what a traditional Thanksgiving would look like.

Does not follow the Supernatural story line. Used characters from the show, but all work is my own. I do not own the rights to these characters.

Please don’t take my work. Reblogs and likes are appreciated.

Written fast and not edited, please overlook any errors.

Minors DNI 18+

I woke up early, Dean’s arm laying loosely over my body. I slipped out of bed to our shared bathroom and took a quick shower. I needed to get the turkey on so it could be ready before everyone came over.

Dean and I had been married about 6 months and this was our first real Thanksgiving. Since he grew up in the hunting life, Thanksgiving wasn’t something he celebrated. I on the other hand always had the traditional Thanksgiving with all the food, football and family you could handle.

I had bought a turkey, ham, rolls, yams, potatoes, green beans, stuffing, and of course pie. I knew I wouldn’t have time to bake all the pies, so I bought a few, but wanted to make Dean a cherry pie from scratch.

I was thankful we had multiple ovens in the bunker, otherwise there was no way I could pull off roasting a turkey, making a ham and the pie in one day.

After my shower I went into the kitchen and prepared the turkey. Once it was in the oven I started on the pie and ham. By the time Dean got up I was washing and peeling potatoes.

He walked into the kitchen and leaned against the doorframe. His arms were crossed over his firm chest, and his feet crossed at the ankles. He smiled as he watched me flit around the kitchen.

“Need any help, sweetheart.” His voice startled me. I looked up at him and bit my lip. God I was so incredibly lucky to have him. “Good morning, Dean. No, I'm okay right now.”

He crossed the room, came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me. I leaned into his chest and he kissed my temple. “Do I smell pie?” He grinned.

“Yes you do, but it’s in the oven. You have to wait.” Dean’s bottom lip poked out in a pout. I turned and faced him, placing my hands on his chest. “Dean, it’s not ready yet. You have to wait.” “Is that the only pie?” He asked with a smirk.

“Now what do you think?” I said as I walked towards the counter. I held up the pumpkin pie and a grin spread across his face. He took three steps towards me and took the pie out of my hand with a chuckle.

“Dean Winchester, give that back to me. That’s for later.” He laughed as he held it over my head. “What’s wrong sweetheart? Can’t reach it? You’re welcome to have it back if you can reach it.”

“Oh you’re so mean.” We both were laughing and I kept jumping, trying to reach the pie. Sam appeared at the door and saw us playing around. He loved seeing his brother so happy.

“Alright you two, get a room.” He said as he walked in to grab a coffee. “Sam, please tell your brother to give me back the pie. It’s for later.” Sam chuckled, threw his hands up in defeat, “You’re on your own shortstack. I thought you’d know by now to never get in the way of Dean and his pie.”

“Hey! You’re supposed to be on my side, Sammy.” I said as I kept trying to get the pie. “Thanks baby brother.” Dean laughed.

“Alright, both of you, out of my kitchen. I have dinner to finish and you’re distracting me, Dean.” Dean placed the pie down, pulled me flush to him and kissed my lips.

“God I love you, Y/N. I can’t believe you’re mine.” “I love you too, Dean, and you better believe it. Until my last breath, I’m yours.”

Dean walked out of the kitchen and turned back to look at me again. His heart leaped in his chest.

I finished getting the rest of the food prepared and I set the dining room table. Sam invited Eileen, Jack and Cass were coming, and of course Dean and I would be there. I was excited to have all of our family there to help celebrate Thanksgiving.

As I stepped into mine and Dean’s room I found him sitting at his desk writing. I hadn’t seen him write in a long time. He told me when we first started dating he would write sometimes to help with his anxiety.

“Hey, baby. I’m just gonna jump in the shower before everyone gets here.” I said as I stepped into the room. Dean looked up, “Okay sweetheart. I’ll be done here in a minute.” I lightly touched his shoulder, “Okay Dean.”

“Hey sweetheart?” I turned to look at Dean from the bathroom doorway, “Yes?” “I love you.” I smiled, “I love you too, Dean.”

About twenty minutes later I was showered, dressed and ready for dinner. When I walked into the room, Dean was gone and his journal was tucked away in its spot on the desk. I nervously bit my lip. I couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness creep into my heart. Dean was upset about something, but he was keeping it from me. I had worked so hard to get most of his walls down, it broke my heart to think there was something bothering him that he felt he couldn’t share with me.

I took a deep breath and walked towards the dining room. Sam, Eileen, Cas and Jack were all there chatting. I looked around for Dean but didn’t see him.

They all greeted me, “Hey Y/N. Everything looks delicious, are you ready to eat?” I smiled, “Sure, y’all dig in. I’m going to find Dean.” Sam looked up at me, “He’s in the garage.” I nodded and walked towards the garage.

I heard Dean before I even got in the room. I walked over to Baby and saw Dean sitting in the car. His eyes met mine, “Damn.” He whispered, causing me to blush.

“Dean, dinner is ready. Let’s go eat.” Dean climbed out of the car and pulled me flush to him. “Look at how beautiful you look, sweetheart. I am one lucky man.” “Don’t you forget it, Mr. Winchester.” “I could never, Mrs. Winchester.”

“Before we go, Y/N I wanted to talk to you.” I swallowed the lump in my throat and bit my bottom lip, “Okay.” My voice barely a whisper. “I’ve done some pretty screwed up stuff in my life. I never thought I was worthy of anything, let alone love. Then I met you. I am thankful every single day I get to wake up next to you as your husband. You making this day special, this meal for us means so much to me. Nobody has ever loved me like you do. I know you saw me writing earlier, and I wanted to talk to you about that.”

“Dean, you don’t have to. I know it’s how you deal with things in your head. Whatever you wrote, it’s okay if you keep it to yourself.”

Dean stepped closer, “Baby I want to tell you. It’s about you, us.” “Okay, Dean. Whatever you have to say I can take it. No matter what it is.” My heart hammered in my chest. I was terrified and didn’t know why.

“Sweetheart, I’m ready.” I looked at him confused. “Ready to eat?” I asked. Dean chuckled, “No, well, yes, but that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m ready to start a family with you. I want us to have those babies we talked about. I want to leave this world a little better than we found it.”

My breath hitched, “What? You really want to start a family?” “Yes, Y/N. I want to start a family with you. I can’t wait to see our babies and raise them by your side.”

I threw my arms around his neck and wrapped my legs around his waist. “Yes, Dean! A thousand times yes! Let’s have a baby.” Dean kissed me deeply, “Wanna go start now?” He winked.

“As much as I would, we do have a table full of guests who are hungry.” Dean chuckled, “You’re right. Let’s go eat. I can’t wait to get some of that pie you made.” “I can’t wait to start a family with you, Dean.” He grabbed my hand, “Me either, darlin’.”

Dean and I walked into the dining room and greeted everyone. As I sat down and looked around the table at my family I smiled. I loved every single person sitting here with me, and I couldn’t wait to bring a little one into this family.

We love each other deeply, protect completely, and never give up on each other. I know our baby will grow up loved, strong and protected.

As dinner started to wrap up, Sam and Eileen announced they were going to be getting married, Cas and Jack were rebuilding heaven, and Dean announced he and I were going to work on starting a family.

Everyone was excited for us. Jack stepped close to me and whispered in my ear. I looked at him and he nodded.

My heart fluttered. Later that night, Dean and I laid in bed, after a few times of trying and he held me tight.

“Y/N, thank you for a wonderful day. I am so thankful for you.” “Dean, I am thankful for you too, and our baby.”

Dean’s brain took a second to catch what I said. His eyes shot open and he propped himself up on his elbow, “What baby?” I looked at my husband, deep in his green eyes, “Jack told me tonight I’m pregnant, Dean. We’re pregnant.”

“Oh my god, sweetheart. I’m gonna be a dad?” “Yes, Dean. You’re going to be a dad.” Dean gently placed his strong, calloused hands on my belly and kissed my lips. “Now this is something to be thankful for.” “Yes it is, Dean. Happy Thanksgiving, my love.” Dean cupped my face, “Happy Thanksgiving to you too, sweetheart.”

Tags are open, if you want to be added or removed, let me know.

Tags:

@nescaveckwriter @kr804573

@k-slla @jackles010378

@jawritter @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx

@roseblue373 @cheynovak

@jassackles @chriszgirl92

@suckitands33 @arcannaa

@n-o-p-e-never @ladysparkles78

@smoothdogsgirl @hobby27

@manicjk @stoneyggirl2

@deans-spinster-witch @snowayumi

@shadowqueen1318 @shanimallina87

@muhahaha303 @fitxgrld

@nancymcl @baby19sthings

@cheekygirl2309 @oceean

@kindollss @foxyjwls007

@lmg14 @cevansbaby-dove

@spxideyver @reignsboy19

@deans-baby-momma @deansimpalababy

@ladykitana90 @quietgirll75

@superrey @kamisobsessed

@obliviousap @ninii-winchester

@mischiefnevermanaged89-blog @whimsyfinny

@bobbdylan @star-yawnznn

@reignsboy19 @monkey-d-hoshizora98

@depressionbarbie2023 @livingdeadblondequeen

@mandee7 @barnes70stark

#hes gorgeous #so damn sexy #dean x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester x plus size!reader #dean winchester x reader

151 notes · View notes

howdoyousleep3 · 2 months ago

Text

Pairing: Daddy Steve/Baby Bucky Rating: E (Explicit) Word Count: 4.4K Tags: Porn Without Plot, Established Relationship, Drunk Sex, Daddy Kink, Light Dom/Sub Relationship, Brat Taming, CNC (Consensual Non-Consent), Dirty Talk, No Prep (there is an obscene amount of lube though lol), Spanking, Anal Sex, Manhandling, Feminization, Rough Sex, Light Exhibitionism, Light Subspace, Breeding Kink, Size Kink, Spitting, Coming on Face, Ruined Orgasm A/N: It's about time. The current state of my life and my mental health called for a mean and selfish Daddy Steve who doesn't give a fuck. In this fic, these two rely on their established relationship and deep understanding of one another. Daddy Steve has never talked or acted like this. Bucky loves it even if he is frightened by the thrill of it. I hope you trust them and love it too. ❤️

Read here on Ao3

“Listen, Buck— I’m going out to dinner with my friends and that’s that.”

Bucky isn’t used to being told no.

“I don’t know what else to tell you. You’re just going to have to deal with it, baby. I’ll be home later tonight.”

Bucky doesn’t react well to being told no.

“I love you,” Steve had told him to obviously end the conversation, something akin to annoyance evident in his tone, digging into and burning at Bucky’s skin. Being told no feels like rejection, feels like betrayal, feels like nothing his Daddy should be forcing him to feel.

So, Bucky hung up without another word, without a proper response.

Without giving Daddy his “I love you”.

If Steve wants to be mean, Bucky can be mean too. He can be mean even through the tears and through the sting of rejection and through his admittedly unnecessary pouting. So, he ignores Steve’s calls, ignores his texts, ignores his warnings.

Buck…

Don’t do this. You know this won’t end well.

Pick up the phone, Bucky.

He goes about his night alone at home, ignoring Steve’s attempts at communicating, at apologizing, at getting back onto Bucky’s good side. He orders takeout and ignores the immediate urge he’s met with to order Steve’s meal of choice as well; he doesn't deserve it. He drinks half a bottle of red wine as he scrolls through Instagram, watches reruns of Real Housewives of New Jersey, and waits for his food to be delivered.

By the time he’s done with his meal, he’s finished off the bottle of wine and ignored three more of Steve’s texts and two more calls.

Why are you being such a brat?

Pick up the damn phone.

You’re fixing to piss me off, Buck.

Daddy’s been drinking.

Bucky decides to shower. He takes a long, hot, luxurious shower. He shampoos his hair twice, uses his expensive body wash that smells like pumpkin cinnamon rolls. He drenches himself in the matching body oil once he’s done showering, takes the time to put on his best skincare, his favorite oil for his hair.

He feels like he’s floating on a cloud as he falls into bed naked and wraps himself up in their flannel sheets and heavy duvet. He doesn’t even bother going in search of his phone; he has no plans to respond to whatever Steve sends him anyway.

Steve can kiss his ass.

Bucky is pulled slowly from his sleep.

It isn’t in an instant or a sharp awakening; it feels like he’s being pulled slowly through syrup from his dream-riddled sleep by something curious.

Bucky furrows his brow. Is that—?

It’s a noise, a consistent noise.

A familiar, wet noise that immediately sets Bucky on fire from the inside out.

The recognition of that noise forces his body and mind into a state of almost panicked awakeness then. A sharp wave of premature arousal wracks his body, something of a Pavlovian response, and it sends his heart pounding against his ribs. He opens his eyes and blinks a few times in order to help adjust to the darkness of the room, the lights from the city just outside their windows helping to keep the room not fully encased in darkness.

Once his eyes adjust, he finds the source of the sound immediately.

He was right.

Steve stands within reach of Bucky’s bedside, close enough to touch, his cock pulled through the zipper of his pants and held in his hand.

Fisting it.

He doesn’t even say anything when he locks eyes with Bucky, his mouth slightly dropped open and a sharp gleam in his eyes just past his glasses that leaves Bucky on edge, curious and hesitant and hot. He tries hard not to let his eyes drop back down to the sight of Steve’s impressive cock, digs his fingers into the mattress in an attempt to ground himself, but it’s useless. It’s always useless.

He loves his Daddy’s cock.

Bucky doesn’t move, doesn’t say a word. He watches on as Steve reaches for an open bottle of lube he must have pulled out of Bucky’s bedside table, watches on as he squirts some messily into his palm before reaching for his cock again. He tosses the bottle onto the bed carelessly.

Something deep, deep within Bucky begins to grow restless.

“Still ain’t got nothin’ to say to your Daddy?”

Steve’s voice cuts through the air and the tension like a hot knife through butter. Bucky feels the bass of it in his toes, the bite of Steve’s growl curling around his neck.

He curses himself for once again not thinking his tantrums through to the end, for thinking he ever stood a chance against his Daddy.

“Yeah, forgot how much of a fuckin’ punk you can be when you don’t get your way.”

Oh.

That’s how it’s going to be?

The thrill of uncharted territory skirts up Bucky’s spine, the nervousness of the same curling into a ball in his belly.

“Maybe you shouldn’t spoil me so much then,” Bucky weakly tries, but Steve only scoffs and strokes his cock harder, the girth of him making Bucky’s mouth traitorously water.

“I’m not responsible for your fuckin attitude, Buck,” Steve bites out in a tone Bucky has only heard a few times before. It nearly forces tears to spring to his eyes, nearly pulls a whimper from the back of his throat. It also makes his balls begin to ache.

He chooses not to say anything in response, but Steve fills the silence after a minute or two.

“Thought about comin’ home to just blow my load all over your pretty face while you slept before crawling into bed, but…don’t know. Think I want you to be awake when I take out my anger on your pretty body.”

Jesus.

“Andy said I should do it, mark you up all over your face, maybe smack you around a little. But James said I need to take it out on your ass. And I gotta say…I’m keen on taking it out on your ass.”

Bucky’s head spins. He grows dizzy from where he lays, his jaw going slack as that dizziness morphs into fuzz, into familiar heaviness. The erotic image of Steve sitting amongst his friends and discussing Bucky’s punishment pulls his hips into the bed beneath him, forcing his next few breaths to grate against the front of his throat. His dick fills out, chubbs up, fattens between his legs and in the sheets.

Steve talking about him, about something so sexual, seeking advice from his friends on how to handle his baby— it’s all far too much to process at once.

The added layer of them all drinking, of knowing what Steve gets like when he has amber liquid slipping through his system, intensifies Bucky’s reaction.

He’s certain Steve was spewing filth, was sharing intimate details of their relationship. He was surely discussing Bucky, what he likes and dislikes, how he reacts to Daddy’s decisions and hand.

Fuck, Bucky shouldn’t find it so hot, but he’s damn near drooling for it.

“Yeah, that’s right— it was a group decision. Had to tell ‘em all how bad you were bein’, had to explain why I was so fuckin’ fired up when I got there. You don’t even want to know the fucked up shit Levinson and Walker said I should force you to do. So, we decided on your ass, that your ass deserves the punishment.”

Bucky will never be able to look Steve’s friends in the eyes again. Or maybe he will, but he’ll surely pop a boner the moment he does.

Steve’s groan is somehow thunderous yet low, long and drawn out, as he resumes stroking his cock, as he reaches into his pants and pulls his balls out. Bucky barely has time to whine at the sight before Steve is speaking again.

“But that works out ‘cause if I’m making you fuckin’ take it, I’m gonna be selfish about it. Yeah sure, I’m your Daddy and I’m supposed to teach you a lesson and make you aware of the consequences of your actions, blah blah blah—”

Bucky’s not once heard Steve talk like this.

“— but not everything has to be a fuckin’ lesson. Sometimes I just wanna…just wanna make it hurt, lay you out a little bit. Don’t wanna make your punishment about you; I want it to be about me.”

Bucky thinks for a moment that he has no footing, has nothing to grasp at to ground himself in the slightest. But Steve is his safety, is his other half; he’s safe here. He’s safe with Steve and he doesn’t need to question that. And because of that, because of the foundation of trust and love they share, Bucky comes to the decision that this?

This is hot.

It’s hot as fuck.

“Roll over,” Steve sharply and suddenly demands. “I wanna see that boy pussy I’ve been thinkin’ about fucking all night.”

Bucky whimpers, his legs spreading on instinct, his next few breaths shaking loose from his lungs. His noises sound almost like a hiccup, like a set of sobs, and he’s rising up onto his knees before he can think twice about it.

Where he’d normally receive a noise of praise or appreciation, he instead receives a bark of, “Turn the fuck around, show it to me the way I deserve.”

Bucky scrambles. At least he feels as if he’s scrambling, as if he’s moving quickly and awkwardly, but if the thickness of his thoughts and the difficulty of thinking a second ahead is any indication, he probably looks as if he’s lazily moving through molasses.

Bucky still doesn’t get the noise or words of praise he’s used to when he’s finally turned around, when he’s got his back in a deep arch and his cheek pressed against the sheets as he faces away from Steve. He instead soaks in the noises of the sound of Steve beating himself off, the slick noise of his fist as he drags it up and down his—

“You’ve been a little bitch tonight. The guys made me promise them I wouldn’t give into you the moment I saw your pretty hole, but fuck me— that’s a pretty fuckin’ pussy.”

Bucky does moan this time, loud and ragged with tight emotion. His dick hangs heavy between his legs, achy from the suddenness and surprise of his arousal, and his hole clenches easily and involuntarily at the compliment.

“Fuck, look how small it is, look how little that fuckin’ hole is. It’s a miracle I can fit my dick in there, my big fuckin’ dick. Your Daddy’s got a big dick, doesn’t he?” Goddamn. Bucky wants to shuffle around on his knees so he can choke on his Daddy’s big dick. He wants it in his mouth, on his tongue, in his throat. He wants—

“I asked you a fuckin’ question,” Steve damn near growls, and the sharp sting of a slap on the meat of his ass shocks Bucky’s answer from him.

“D-Daddy’s got a big dick.”

“Yeah, that’s right— say it again. Tell me again.”

Bucky tucks his arms under his chest, spreads his legs even more, offering himself up.

“Daddy’s dick is so big.”

Steve chuckles into his next groan. “Fuck, I love hearin’ that.”

He listens as Steve moves next, hears him take a few steps, hears him shuffle around before Bucky then feels a cold glob of liquid hit his ass cheek. He gasps, jumps even, but Steve just moans and spreads the liquid across Bucky’s ass with his hand.

Bucky doesn’t even have time to ask questions or think of how messy or obscene smearing his ass in lube is when Steve’s hands are on him like this. It’s as if Bucky isn’t there as a person, as if Steve is alone in this room with his ass, as if he were a toy. Daddy’s hand rubs the lube into the cheeks of his ass carelessly, smearing it around and covering him in the slippery liquid simply for the selfish enjoyment of seeing Bucky’s ass oiled up.

So much for his luxurious, self care shower.

Bucky’s head is so far in the clouds that he barely registers more of it being squirt onto his ass, the feeling of Steve’s hands rubbing and moving almost hypnotizing, but then Steve is rubbing it over his hole, circling it with his fingers and thumb, pressing his thumb into his hole as he moans.

Bucky squeals.

These touches are indicative of Steve meaning what he said about this punishment being for him; these are selfish touches.

The slap of Daddy’s big cock right over his soaked pussy makes him whine. But the feel of Steve then resting his cock between Bucky’s cheeks, of pushing his hips forward in a rhythmic motion draws his whine out further.

“I’m gonna be mean about it because it’s what you deserve. What I deserve. M’gonna fuck this little pussy the way I want to, for me— don’t give a shit about you right now. You wanna come? Fine. But this ain’t about you.”

Steve pulls his hips back in order for his hand to come down over Bucky’s wet hole hard, just the once and then three more swift times, spanking it and forcing another squeal out of Bucky’s mouth.

“Fuck…!”

He’s barely able to jump away from the sting, barely able to feel the burn of such a harsh touch, before Steve is stepping close again and pressing the fat tip of his cock back against Bucky’s soaked hole.

“You better bear down on it, baby— didn’t spend my sweet time training this pussy for nothin’.”

Bucky’s body and mind come together for a moment of panic, mesh in an effort to preserve what they perceive to be Bucky’s safety that is in danger. It’s too fast, too quick; it’s not what Bucky’s used to. He gasps as he shrinks away from Steve’s touch, his thoughts getting the best of him and—

Steve’s strong hand on his nape is like a warm blanket, like an off switch, even when it’s a touch that makes it difficult to breathe.

“None’a that now. Bear down, here we go…”

Claiming.

Breeding.

Steve’s always shown mercy, is in tune with Bucky’s mind and body, holds Bucky as a priority in life and in the bedroom; that is what Bucky is used to. But that Steve is nowhere to be found in their bedroom shrouded in darkness tonight. That Steve has been pushed past the brink of the vast amount of patience he holds, has been filled with amber liquid that takes away his softness. He’s nowhere to be found as he spears Bucky open on his cock, as he uses his big hands to press into the deep arch of Bucky’s back and use it as leverage to fuck into him faster, harder.

Bucky tells himself it’s a lot, that it’s overwhelming, but that it doesn't hurt. He’s used to sex; they have sex frequently. His body doesn’t need to be warmed up to taking Steve when he takes Steve on the regular. But rarely does he take Steve’s cock this fast, this quick, this harsh. His stream of noise is constant, is veering on feral in nature, and he all but thrashes underneath Steve’s hands and on his cock in response to being split open.

“This is my fuckin’ pussy,” Steve grounds out between what sounds to be gritted teeth, and Bucky can’t tell if it’s a reminder for Bucky or filth for himself.

Bucky can’t breathe. He chokes on his breaths, on his noises that won’t stop pouring out, his breaths caged up in his chest. Steve has his waist in a brutal grip, pressing his body further into the mattress, and with Bucky’s arms trapped under his chest it makes it cages his breaths up further.

He wills himself to breathe, begs himself to focus and to open up his willing body to his Daddy. It’s not difficult for him to want this, even as they tread new waters together, but he is quick to come to peace with his body taking the brunt of this…whatever type of punishment this is.

The only moment of mercy Bucky is shown is when Steve’s hips meet the curve of Bucky’s ass, and even then Steve only stills long enough to press and grind his cock impossibly deeper into Bucky. It’s as if he wishes to crawl inside of Bucky with a growl, as if Bucky’s body taking the entirety of his cock isn’t enough and he needs more than Bucky can give him.

Bucky feels drool on his chin.

His blinks are slow and lagging, or maybe that’s his eyes rolling back into his head.

“God fucking damnit,” Steve groans, his tone showing evidence of both relief and frustration, the smack he gives Bucky’s ass driving that frustration home. He jerks his hips back, pulls out of Bucky halfway before filling him up to the brim again. The lewd, wet noises of his pussy makes his cheeks burn in embarrassment, makes him moan at the easy slide and overwhelming sensation of stretch.

Bucky doesn’t know why he pretends to be a brat. A few harsh words and a smack on his ass and here he is face down, ass up for his Daddy.

Steve pulls his hips back again, is quick to slide them back home, beginning to fuck Bucky in earnest.

Bucky’s head spins.

“Pretty fuckin’ pussy for a pretty fuckin’ boy,” Steve tells him in a rumble, rubbing his thumb around Bucky’s stretched and wet rim.

On the other hand, maybe he should be a brat more often.

Steve fucks him without mercy.

Bucky is used to mercy.

He’s used to eye contact and pauses and little, “You good, baby”s. He’s not used to feeling the entirety of Steve’s strength pressed into his body, not used to feeling bruises form in the moment. He’s not used to feeling like Daddy is simply using him for his hole, for somewhere wet and warm to stick his dick and fuck into.

This is different.

This feels so good even if it is a lot.

It has his emotions twisted up in his stomach.

The way his body rocks forward with every brutal thrust, the force of the stretch of his pussy, the feeling of spreading his legs and being bent over for his Daddy; he’s almost embarrassed he can very realistically come from this kind of treatment.

He doesn’t realize he’s saying things until Steve is laughing, groaning, the noise of it swirling around Bucky’s empty brain like a marble.

“Oh sugar,” he moans long and slow, his hands coming down to cup Bucky’s ass as he fucks it, spreading it wide. “You got nothin’ to apologize for— none of that fuckin’ matters now that I’m inside’a you.”

Was he apologizing? He can hear himself now, the drawn-out, almost mournful noises he’s making as spit pools into the sheets underneath him. It’s all nonsense; he can tell that even though his brain is having a hard time processing his own words.

“Stretch me out, Daddy,” he hears himself whine. “I’m sorry— M’so sorry! Make it better, Daddy.”

Steve only fucks into him harder, the slick smack of his groin and his heavy sac slapping against Bucky’s lube-covered ass adding to the cacophony of noises swirling around the room and muddying up his brain.

“Whatever you say, baby.”

“Daddy…”

“Of course I fucking am. Who’s your Daddy?”

“You are…you’re my Daddy.”

Bucky feels a hand wrap roughly around his nape. His face is shoved further into the mattress. The force of the touch and the angle of his body makes him sob.

“Yeah? And whose pussy is this? Whose fuckin’ pussy is this?”

Bucky hiccups, sputters.

“Daddy’s! S’Daddy’s!”

His balls begin to tighten then, his groin stirring, the moment his hole relaxes and embraces the obscene stretch of Steve’s cock in full. Steve has always told him he has a sensitive sweet spot, a sensitive pussy, and this example is his Daddy’s checkmate.

He bucks against Steve’s harsh touch and thrusts when he feels his orgasm rapidly build and stir.

“M’gonna come, m’gonna…come,” he hears himself slur, a pitiful warning that he’s almost certain Steve can’t hear.

“I don’t give a shit.”

Oh.

He was wrong.

Bucky says the only thing that makes sense to him in this moment—

“Come in my pussy, Daddy.”

Steve roars, shoving at Bucky’s nape before letting go and reaching for his hair, all without pausing his thrusts.

“Don’t you fucking do that. You motherfucker. Don’t do that, Buck.”

His orgasm must possess him, push him into doing things Daddy said not to do, because he’s immediately defying his Daddy and pouting out, “Come in my pussy, Daddy. Fill my pussy up,” just as his first spurt of come hits the sheets.

It’s the only moment of his orgasm he is allowed to enjoy.

He’s still coming, dick continuing to shoot off and body continuing to ride the waves of a shattering orgasm, when Steve pulls out of Bucky’s body and drags him to the floor by his neck.

He hits the carpet with a thud and a shout, knees knocking and hands flying out to catch himself. He whines, cries, at losing such a memorable orgasm, at being pulled out of the experience of such, and tucks his chin to watch himself experience the end of his climax between his legs.

“Open your fucking mouth. Look up at me.”

Even with his ruined orgasm, he listens easily. He’s slow to do so. He turns his head up to do his best to look up at his Daddy, but the tears in his eyes make it impossible to see Steve.

He can see his fist though, see his cock as he uses his fist to fuck himself as they nearly come full circle for the night.

“You don’t let me come on your pretty face enough,” Steve accuses, voice hot and low, labored and barely audible over the ringing in Bucky’s ears and the sound of Steve aggressively jerking off above him.

Bucky doesn’t respond, can’t bring forth any words in his brain. He sits there with his tongue out, tears in his eyes, hips doing what they can to rock from the aftershocks of his shattering yet unenjoyable orgasm.

Steve groans and the noise hits Bucky right in the balls. He feels the result of it in his bloodstream, in his being, a noise that, at its core, is centered around Bucky being good. It’s gluttonous and selfish and sexy and Bucky could weep hearing it.

He thinks he is weeping at this point.

When he opens his eyes again, Steve is coming on his tongue.

And then his cheek.

And then over his other cheek, onto his forehead.

All Bucky can do is sob and moan, an odd combination that makes it sound like he’s begging for his life while also in heat.

“Fuck, that’s good. Fuck yeah, look at’chu. Look at my fuckin’ baby. My baby…”

Steve’s come feels as if it scalds his skin, the warmth of it both a shock and a comfort to him. Bucky lets it slide from his tongue, down his chin, has to close one eye in order to avoid a painful mess.

He does nothing to fight against the urge to pout when Steve feeds him the last bit of come from the swollen tip of his cock, letting it fall onto his bottom lip. Steve’s fingers immediately follow it, two of them reaching forward to rub the mess into his lip, then across his chin. Bucky watches from the floor as Steve’s chest heaves up and down underneath his crisp dress shirt, his thick fingers pressing and smearing his warm come into Bucky’s skin.

Bucky chases after his Daddy’s fingers like a starving animal, gasping and groaning, tongue lapping up whatever Steve has to offer.

Does he have no pride?

Daddy answers that question with two fingers shoved in his mouth, stroking the back of his tongue so harshly Bucky’s left with no choice but to gag loudly.

He still moans.

Steve lets out a long, happy noise that sounds like a sigh but feels like another groan in Bucky’s balls. It’s akin to the noise he lets out when he stands to stretch as the halftime show begins during the football games he watches on Sundays, deep and satisfied. He follows the noise up with a tight grip on Bucky’s jaw from the inside of his mouth, a hold on his teeth as he pulls Bucky further towards him.

Where Bucky expects a kiss, he instead gets no warning of Steve spitting down between his open lips.

“Fuck yeah…”

He uses his fingers to spread that around as well, allowing for the combination of his come, his spit, and Bucky’s spit slip over Bucky’s bottom lip and slip down his neck before letting Bucky go with a bit of a shove.

Bucky’s not used to this.

Bucky thinks he’s fallen in love with Steve all over again.

His spent and heavy cock still hangs from the open zipper of his pants, framed by thighs that Bucky swears are the size of tree trunks from down here, when Steve lets out one last, resigned groan.

“That was exactly what I fuckin’ needed,” he casually tells Bucky with more than a tap on his cheek. He turns on his heel and begins to walk away from Bucky and towards their shared bathroom.

Bucky can barely follow him with his eyes, can barely hold his head up.

Steve’s sharp whistle rings in his ears.

“C’mon, sugar— let’s see if you can wring another one outta me,” he hollers from over his shoulder, not bothering to look back at Bucky. Steve almost sounds like himself again, as if he hadn’t just hate fucked Bucky to the brink of psychosis. Bucky thinks he hears the shower.

Maybe that was all Steve needed to get out of his system.

Bucky begins to maneuver himself to stand, ass already sore and come still covering his face, when Steve snaps from the door of their bathroom.

“Nuh-uh— you crawl to your Daddy, kid.”

Maybe not.

#my writing #stucky fanfic #daddy steve and baby bucky #howdoyousleep #take a shot every time Steve says a variation of 'fuck' lol #(don't bc you'll end up in the hospital)#take a shot every time Steve drunkenly calls Bucky 'pretty'#(you may not end up in the hospital but you'll definitely get sick lol)

111 notes · View notes

blackbat05 · 2 years ago

Text

Real or Not Real?

Miguel O’Hara x Reader

Plot: You need a plus one for a wedding. Who better than your boss and perhaps the most hated person on your list.

Genre: PG-13, Enemies to Lovers (I would like to think so😬)

A/N: I’m on a roll. Also, I always wanted to do this trope! This is longer than usual. Reblogs and feedback appreciated!💜

“Shit!” Your phone bounces off the bed, landing inches away from another expensive repair.

“What’s wrong?” Jessica Drew looks up from the self help book that she was currently engaged in.

“An old classmate. I totally forgot about the wedding!” You groan, feet becoming more fidgety by the second.

“Right… and would you care to explain why you look like one of Norman Osborn’s pumpkins?” Your best friend looks at you cautiously, as if like you were a volcano waiting to explode any second.

“Well, she used to be great with everyone in school. Can’t say the same about myself.” You winced internally at the memories about your youth. “You know how it is. Everyone is either rich, successful or in love once they leave school.”

“Or maybe all three.” Jessica adds helpfully much to your chagrin.

“Thanks, Jess.” You refrain from rolling your eyes. “Anyways, the chat group got reignited and some genius started asking about ‘the girl who everyone always see but doesn’t really know’ and before I know it, everyone starts pestering me about how I’m doing!” You throw your hands dramatically in the air and Jessica can’t help but to look amused. “So?”

“So, I kinda told them that I have a reallyhotboyfriend.” The last few words are mashed into one big mess but still clear enough for Jessica to pick up. “You what now?”

Smelling the judgement from a mile away, you hang your head in defeat. “I know! I’m an idiot! I couldn’t help myself okay? This is what happens when you attend a private all girls’ school. You stand out for being weird and suddenly The Plastics start making your entire school life hell.”

“The Plastics?”

“It’s a movie reference.”

“Why am I not surprised.” Jessica chuckles. “So what now girl? How’s damage control going?”

“Terrible.” You splat face first into the pillow. “I was thinking of getting help from the guys but…” You hold up four fingers, ticking them off one by one. “Pavitr can’t pretend, Hobie’ too unpredictable, Miles is too young and Peter’s married with a child - a fact I can’t ignore even if this is fake.”

Jessica looks at your closed fingers, tapping her chin thoughtfully. If being friends with her taught you anything, this wasn’t a good sign.

“There is one more option. I think he would fit your description of a really hot boyfriend.” She deliberately gives you a meaningful look that makes you leap off the bed, throwing her an accusing look.

“Actually, I think I’m going to ask Gwen. Do you know where I can find her?”

“Long gone. She went to visit Captain Stacey.” Jessica quips. “Come on. He’s a good option. Besides, this is a great opportunity to know him better!”

“I rather tangle with the loch-ness monster instead.” You mumble, thinking about your very first encounter with the man of the hour - Miguel O’Hara. The two of you were a good representation of day and night.

While you were bright and upbeat, the leader of the Spider Society probably didn’t have the word ‘joy’ in his dictionary. As you attempted to introduce yourself to him at your first meeting, he had simply brushed you aside.

“Miguel isn’t that bad once you get to know him.”

“Very funny, Jess. You should be comedian of the year. Did you forget how he yelled at me when I pushed him out of the way from Kingpin’s gangbangers?”

Jessica opens her mouth slightly, only to shut it soon after. You frown, turning your back to see whatever she was staring at behind you. How you wished you hadn’t. Oh, if only the ground could swallow you whole as Miguel himself stands at the door, staring at you with an unreadable expression.

“What- how long have you been here for?” You struggle to form that one sentence. “Jess…” You start accusingly.

Jessica shrugs, taking Miguel’s presence as a sign to leave. “I’ll leave you two to it!” She gives you a wink that results in your mouth hanging agape. Miguel closes the door and you quickly attempt to compose yourself.

“I’ll do it.”

“Do what?”

Miguel raises a brow. “Be your date.” He says it all too nonchalantly, as if choosing at empanada at the supermarket. You blink, pinching yourself out of his sight. The situation was very real. He stands in front of you, waiting.

“What do you want from me?” You blurt out. “You want something in return.” You clarify once more, trying to make sense of things.

The end of Miguel’s lips turn upwards slightly, and you’re worried that the sudden acceleration of your heart would unable to support your body to stand upright.

“I just want to apologize for my behavior and I happened to overhear your conversation.” He responds and you make a mental note to never trust Jessica again for not warning you about his presence.

“Am I in some kind of alternate dimension?” You laugh, trying to defuse the awkwardness. Miguel remains impassive, eyes staring intently into yours.

“What’s it going to be? You can take me or you can look like a liar to everyone. It’s your choice.”

You hate to say it, but he’s right.

***

“You came!” Your old friend comes barreling into you, giving you a big hug.

“Lils! You look amazing!” You gushed, returning the hug. “Congratulations. What a beautiful place.” You refer to the beachside wedding that she insisted on.

“Thanks! Jeju Island was always on my bucket list. I’m so glad I get to share this memory with all of you!” She gushes, turning to your plus one. “I mean, I finally get to see who has stolen your heart!” She extends a hand. “And who may you be?”

“Miguel O’Hara.” He extends his own hand for a shake. “Congratulations.”

“No need for the formalities!” Lilly smiles brightly. “What I do want to know is how you two got together! You can be away from her for a little can’t you?”

Before the two of you can even say anything, you find yourself being pulled away by Lilly while the groom effortlessly picks up the conversation with Miguel. She brings you aside, within the sight of the two men.

“Tell me everything!” She pounces on you like a tiger, demanding to know your first encounter. You give what you hope was a easy smile. “We’re… colleagues.” You don’t think exposing both your superhero personas would do well, not especially when you got here by inter dimensional traveling.

Your friend seems to be satisfied by this as she squeals. She hits your shoulder a little too aggressively, wanting more. You sigh, hoping that Miguel wasn’t being interrogated this intensively on his end.

“We just had the same interests and kind of clicked.” You prayed that the questioning would stop soon. “Everything was just a blur after.”

Lilly nods, throughly invested in your fake love story. She’s about to ask another question when a sharp voice pierced through the air, causing you to be rooted to the ground. You really wanted to run away at that moment.

“What is this that I’m hearing? You’re actually seeing someone?” The clack of heels come to a stop and you find yourself facing your tormentor.

“It’s nice to see you too, Becca.” You grit through your teeth. The woman remains oblivious to your discomfort as she addresses the two others trailing behind her. “I wonder who’s the lucky man nice enough to pick her up!”

“That’s enough, I invite you to my wedding out of our friendship but this doesn’t give you the right to insult her.” Lilly shoots back, keeping her eyes trained on your curled fists.

“It’s alright, Lils.” You try to remain calm. “Let’s go. I’ll tell you everything later.” You take the lead to escort her back when Becca’s comment brings you to a halt.

“I bet he isn’t even real!”

Although she was right, you couldn’t help but to turn around, wanting to give Becca and her posse a piece of your mind. Something that you should have done a very long time ago.

“Oh, I’m very real alright.”

You see Miguel walking up towards the trio. Was it just you or did Miguel look… angry?

He composes himself, giving a charming grin to the trio who looked like they were going to start falling at his feet any moment.

“Miguel O’Hara. She has told me a lot about you three.”

“Oh, she has?” Becca twirls the edge of her skirt nervously and you don’t know where Miguel is going with this.

“Sure. She’s told me all about how you three dimwits made her entire life hell. Honestly? I don’t even know how that happened when she’s a hundred times classier with more substance than you plastics claim to have.” Miguel catches your eye and gives a quick wink.

“Excuse me?” Becca stutters. “Oh, I get it. She must have paid you to say that!”

Miguel walks over and gently loops an arm over your shoulders. By now, the conversation seemed to have attracted every guest who were lining up at the buffet table.

“Nope. But you know what she is? She is the most courageous and selfless person who wouldn’t hesitate to help others. I don’t think you three would even come close to understanding what that means.”

Miguel has done it. He’s left them speechless and every guest is know giving disapproving looks to the trio who can only storm away in embarrassment.

“I think I’m not that hungry yet. How about we take a walk?”

You realize that Miguel is asking you, so you nod numbly and find yourself being led out of the venue. You see Lilly standing at the entrance greeting guests.

Catching your eyes, she gives you a thumbs up and a mischievous grin, not bothered at all about the verbal altercation that was inadvertently caused by you. Amidst the chaos, one thought was clear in your mind.

Just what is going on?

***

The rainbow colored blocks providing as seats for families, friends and couples to take photos makes the sea look even clearer. Silence overtaking the two of you, you busy yourself with noticing how the jagged edges of the rocks are a wonderful addition to the waves crashing near the shore.

“What’s going on up there?”

Finally. You prepare yourself, stopping beside the statue. “I was just about to ask you the same thing O’Hara.” You take a brave step closer towards the hulking man and he briefly looks away before staring back at you. “Not that I’m ungrateful but that wasn’t like you.”

“Then, what am I supposed to be?”

You paused. “Well… you’re supposed to be grumpy and grouchy and keeping me at arm’s length I guess?” You search for the right words as Miguel contains a chuckle seeing how flustered you were becoming by the second. “And you’re suddenly being nice to me? Hell would have to freeze over.”

Miguel closes the already small gap between the two of you and you suddenly feel hot at his gaze. He examines you for a while and you think he’s about to deliver another sharp retort.

“I did try. I tried to keep you away but you were too bright and cheerful for your own good.” Miguel gruffly tells you. “You were so much like her.”

You knew that he was referring to his past. His wife whom no one really dared to talk about. You finally understood. To him, you were a walking and living painful reminder.

“I’m sorry.” You breathed out. The air suddenly constricts in your lungs and you feel the need to get away. Anywhere but here. You turn around and find yourself being pulled into him. Miguel hugs you, and he hugs you tight.

“No, I’m the idiot. I punished you for seeing you as someone else.” He confesses. “I should have just seen you as… you. You were so bright and so brave, I almost lost it when you took the bullets from Kingpin. That’s when I knew my behavior had to stop. I wanted to tell you and I guess I saw this as the perfect opportunity.”

“Oh.” You don’t know how else to react to this sudden revelation.

“But I meant every word. About me apologizing for my past behavior.” Miguel continues. “And that. Earlier on.” He refers to his relentless counter attack on your tormentors. “I didn’t know that you had to go through all that.”

“Hey, we all go through things right? Kind of a ticket to join the spider society.” You try to lighten things up. “Besides, it’s nothing big.”

Miguel pries you away gently, a slight frown on his face. “Don’t minimize your struggles. You are a hundred times stronger than those three combined. After all, that’s what made you stood out to me in the first place.”

Your heart swells at his statement. As you hear the waves crashing, it felt as if like it gave you a sense of newfound confidence as well. It was all or nothing now. You’re inches away from Miguel, his rosy cheeks prominent from the strong breeze that the coastal city offered. “I just have one more question.”

Miguel cocks his head to the side, curious. He doesn’t interrupt, giving permission for you to go ahead.

“You love me. Real or not real?”

He takes you by the waist, lips on yours. It could be minutes or hours before he lets go, leaving you in a daze. But the movement of his lips are as clear as day. One that would be forever etched in your memory.

“Real.”

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #spiderman: across the spiderverse

1K notes · View notes

holylulusworld · 1 year ago

Text

Falling leaves - Flufftober 6

Summary: He’s a grump, but for you, he’s willing to change.

Rating: Teen

Square filled for @buckybarnesbingo: Y4: Holding hands

Square filled for @allcapsbingo (expired): O1: Pining

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: fluff, mutual pining, friends to more, general cuteness, Sunny vs grumpy trope

Trope: Sunny vs grumpy

Words: 824

Kinktober vs Flufftober 2023

“Please for me,” you look at Bucky, who sits on the least comfortable chair in your apartment. Legs spread, and a grumpy expression on his face he glares at the colorful scarf in your hands. “I’ll look good on you. We will match. I made the same for me.”

“I don’t do scarves, doll. I’m not cold. It’s still warm outside,” Bucky crosses his arms over his chest. He loves that you like to make things for him, but you’ll not convince him to wear a colorful scarf.

“Fine,” puckering your lips you look at Bucky. “I’ll wear mine and you can go in your leather jacket. If you get cold, I won’t keep you warm.” You point your index finger at Bucky. “Now. Let’s head out.”

“Head out?” He furrows his brows. “I thought you wanted me to come over to help you repair your sink. “Where do you want to go?”

You put your hands on your hips and huff. “I told you it’s the perfect day for a walk in the park. I want to collect a few leaves too. You were the one bringing my leaking sink up. Please don’t leave me hanging. I don’t want to go alone.”

Bucky watches you wrap the scarf around your neck. He smiles as you glance at him now and then. He’s not immune to your charm and already gets up from his seat to go for a walk in the park with you.

“I won’t wear the scarf,” he grumbles as you look at him. You’ve got this look. The one making his heart melt whenever he’s around you. “I mean it.”

“I know,” you try not to sound too sad. “You can wear your neck naked, like a real man.” You grab your bag and the peacock green slouchy knit beanie matching your scarf. “I’ll be warm and cozy.”

“You’re freezing all the time,” Bucky points out as you try to ignore he’s so close that you can smell his cologne. He’s your friend and nothing else you tell yourself once again. “Maybe we can have a hot chocolate or tea after you collect your leaves.”

You grin. “It’s a date,” you exclaim, taking Bucky by surprise. “We can have a slice of pumpkin pie or apple pie if you like.”

“Sure,” he watches you grab your keys. “I prefer apple pie. My ma made the best, but there’s this little bakery I discovered when I first came back to Brooklyn.”

You’re suddenly reminded of Bucky’s past. This city was his home before it was yours. He’s, just like his best friend Captain America, a man out of time.

“Look at all the beautiful leaves,” you smile widely as your eyes land on the colorful trees and the leaves on the ground. “Let’s hurry before someone else grabs the best leaves. I need them for my next art project.”

“We will get them,” he assures you. “Which ones do you want?”

“Uh-the pretties ones,” you shrug. “I’ll know when I see them.” You crouch down to pick the first leaf up. “Bucky? Did you hear me?”

You dip your head only to watch Bucky glare at a guy who crouched down to pick a leaf up. “HEY! Hands off the leaves! These are for my doll!”

Your eyes widen when Bucky storms toward the man to snatch the leaf out of his hands.

“Bucky, it’s fine. There are more than enough leaves,” you place your hand on his back to stop him from killing the poor guy. “Let him go.”

“He tried to steal one of your leaves,” Bucky argues, but he hands the leaf back to the man. “Look for leaves somewhere else. This spot is ours.”

The man runs off, grumbling under his breath. “That was,” you grab Bucky’s hand and hold it, “very nice of you.”

“He tried to take the leaves away from you,” he dips his head to glance at you. “I can’t let him steal your leaves.”

You nod. “How about we collect a few leaves and have this walk we were talking about earlier?”

“Wait here. I’ll get the best leaves for you,” he runs off to look for the prettiest leaves. You watch Bucky for a while. He crouches down to pick up leaves, looking at peace. “Wait, I’ll help you.”

“That was nice,” on your way out of the park you are holding Bucky’s hand. You smile softly as he proudly carries the leaves you collected in a bag.

“Do you want to go home, or have some tea and a slice of pie,” he asks, hopefully looking at you.

“We can grab some pie and go to my place to have tea. Maybe you can stay for dinner,” you look up at Bucky. “Only if you don’t have plans for tonight.”

“It’s a date,” he says, squeezing your hand. “And tomorrow, we can go for another walk. I’ll wear the scarf too.”

Part 2

Tags in reblog.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #buckybarnesbingo2023 #bbb2023 #bucky barnes x you

490 notes · View notes

fluentmoviequoter · 4 months ago

Note

Fall prompt!!!

I saw this one on another post: holding a ladder steady for the other one when they're trying to put something higher up

I figured could be decorating or getting decorations out?? I pictured our man Tim but would be cute with anyone!

Ah, I love this!! Thank you!🫶🏼🍂 0.8k+ words, fluff.

The smells of sweet pumpkin, mossy birch, and brown sugar greet you warmly as you kick Tim's door closed behind you. You huff as you shift your arms to keep a pillow from falling. With your focus on the bags and goodies stacked precariously in your arms, you don’t notice Tim walk out of the hallway or how his brows draw together as he looks at you.

“What is that?” he asks once you’ve saved the items in your hand from crashing to the floor.

You smile, as guilty as Tim thinks he’s ever seen you, as you shake the cup in your left hand. “A fall-flavoured drink?” you try.

“I figured. What’s the rest of it?”

“Okay, well…” you begin. “Help me set it down and then I’ll tell you?”

Tim’s brows raise as he shakes his head, and you punctuate your request with a “Please, handsome?” that has him crossing the room to transfer bags from your tired arms to the kitchen table.

Tim lifts a package of fake spiderwebs and repeats, “What is all this?”

“As you know, I went to get Kojo more food,” you begin. “But I went to a different store than usual, and when I walked in, they had all of the fall and Halloween decorations on display.”

“So, you bought them all?” Tim challenges, his eyes wide.

“No! Just enough to make this place look like someone actually lives here.”

“I thought ghost houses were cool in October,” Tim murmurs, peeking into one of the bags.

“Angela and Wesley give out full-sized candy bars on Halloween, and you take real spiderwebs down. Don’t use a ghost analogy to get out of this, Tim.”

Tim shakes his head at your passion for something as silly as decorating for fall. But he loves you, and you love this. Besides, he already lit the candle you got him. There's no going back at this point, he supposes.

“Where do we start?” he asks with a sigh.

You clap your hands together and smile as you answer. “Outside. Can you go get the ladder?”

“Reduced to an errand boy,” Tim grumbles as he turns away from you.

“Thank you!” you call after him. “I love you!”

“Okay,” you announce, rising from your squatted position after preparing the spiderwebs across Tim’s lawn. “Now we just use the hooks to secure them to the gutter.”

You step toward the ladder, and Tim catches your wrist before he shakes his head firmly.

“You hold the ladder, I’ll go up,” he says.

Nodding, you hand one end of the web to Tim before you step to his side and hold the ladder steady. Once he’s up, you move one step to your left to stand slightly behind him.

“Here?” he asks, raising the web where you said you wanted it.

“Perfect!” you reply, tightening your grip on the ladder. “Be careful.”

Tim doesn’t answer as he leans forward and secures the removable hook to his roofline. Once the web is hanging, he attaches another hook further down.

“Careful,” you warn again.

“Oh, the spiderwebs are cool but me turning into a zombie is a problem?” he jokes.

You fight to contain your laugh, but a giggle slips before you answer, “Seriously, Tim, don’t fall.”

He looks over his shoulder, smiles, and says, “You’ve got me.”

Curling your fingers tighter around the metal ladder, you nod. “Thanks for helping me. And agreeing to let me decorate your house.”

Tim steps off the ladder and lays his hands on your shoulders, brushing your hair away from your face. He leans toward you, then says, “Please don’t tell me you got one of those RIP headstones.”

“Ugh, no!” you exclaim. “We’re leaving the gaudy decorations to the house down the streets that gives out apple slices.”

Tim shakes his head, then kisses your forehead and steps back. “What next?”

“The flying bats. Oh, I forgot, I also have a few spiders to go on the webs, too.”

“Go grab the spiders and the pumpkins for the walkway,” Tim encourages.

After you return with more decorations, Tim climbs onto the ladder again, and you hold it as you watch him with nothing but gratitude, love, and admiration. Looking down quickly, you get an idea. With one hand still on the ladder, you grab a decoration you bought strictly to mess with Tim.

“Here, let me give you a hand,” you say.

Tim reaches down and takes your offered decoration without question. When he raises it and sees the prop severed hand, he exhales and asks, “Do you want me to jump off the ladder?”

He looks down at you, unable to keep his smile from growing to match yours.

“Who would watch all the fall football games with me then?” you question.

“It looks perfect,” you say, leaning against Tim’s side as you survey the beautiful mix of Halloween and fall decorations.

“You did good,” Tim replies, wrapping his arm around you.

“You did the heavy lifting.”

“And you held the ladder.”

You nod before Tim tilts his chin to kiss you. You’ll always be there for one another, even if it’s just holding a ladder.

#tim bradford blurb #tim bradford x reader #tim bradford fluff #hanna writes✯#hanna's blurbs #fem!reader #requests

100 notes · View notes

bumblebeesfromvenus · 3 months ago

Text

Pumpkin Patch Lovin' 🎃

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Just a little short 'n sweet Fall-themed fluff with our favorite boy <3

Disclaimer; I have never in my life been to a Pumkin Patch, this is all made up.

The order is here -> 🎂

When you visit a pumpkin patch with Johnny, he realizes what true love looks like and how it has always looked like you. You assure all his doubts and make that he knows that he's wanted.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

"Ah. Nothin' like a crisp fall day, eh, bonnie?" Johnny smiled, hands propped up on his hips as he took in the stretching fields of orange pumpkins.

From auburn to apricot, and even cream and shades of yellow, all colors were represented. You'd begged to experience a pumpkin patch once in your life, and how could he ever say no to you?

"Ya, yayayayaya, let's go!" You squealed, grabbing the sleeve of his jacket and dragging him with you to the entrance.

He stumbled and almost fell, cursing under his breath.

"Don't go knockin' me over, lass!" Johnny laughed.

You were all dressed up for the occasion; a nice burnt orange sweater and you even had a pumpkin hair clip! You fit in perfectly.

You couldn't hold in your excitement anymore at the sight of haybales, stalks of corn with colorful shimmering kernels and bunches of wheat. There were garlands of fall leaves with acorns and pinecones, and a variety of fall flowers.

A small tent had been set up, wooden benches and tables shielded from the unpredictable fall weather. They sold all kinds of delicious smelling goodies. From savory to sweet, tart to sour and everything in between.

You couldn't wait to eat your way through all the stalls after having picked out some pumpkins with Johnny. He couldn't help but admire your eyes shining with exctiment and unbridled joy.

Something he hadn't seen nor felt in a while. It was so... pure, in a way. You were protected from all the things he had seen, and yet you still loved him all the same. You loved the broken parts, the parts he hid from everyone else and replaced with his humor and jokes.

Come to think of it, he hadn't really known what love felt like -real, wholehearted love- until he met you. You brought light into his life, your light, and he could always rely on you to guide his path through the thorny bramble that was the cruel world of his mind.

Your hand was tightly grasped on his as you marveled at all the new and exciting things at the pumpkin patch.

"You have no idea how thrilled I am to do this- and especially to do it with you!" You rambled, eyes flitting over all the different shapes and sizes of various species of pumpkins.

Johnny's breath caught in his throat and he could've sworn his heart jumped out of his ribcage. How you were able to confess such a heartfelt and important thing like it was no big deal amazed him.

Because to him, it was a big deal. The biggest deal, actually. It wasn't like he was disliked on Base, but no one had ever said that.

He knew that his comrades and his friends from the Taskforce liked having him around, he was the life of the party! But sometimes he felt out of place.

Like he was too much and not enough at the same time.

So to hear you say how excited you were to do something with him, and that he was the main event made him want to cry and smile and sob. Sure, he was maybe only second to the pumpkins but that's something he could live with.

Still, he wanted to know more.

"Why does it matter if yer doin' it with me or no'?" He asked, quirking a brow at you, full of curiosity.

At his question you stopped in your tracks and pulled him out of the foot traffic.

"Well, because you're my boyfriend, duh!" You laughed.

"No other reason, eh?" He chuckled dryly.

It sounded like you were stuck with him.

"And I just really like hanging out with you. Actually- I just really like you, Johnny." You shrugged with a smile.

His expression softened, and his doubts slowly fizzled away.

"Ah know tha' ya love me, hen." He replied softly, pulling you into his side and pressing a kiss to your temple.

You giggled and gently pried yourself from his embrace.

"Of course I love you, but liking and loving are different, I think. " You explained.

Johnny eyed you.

"How so?"

"I mean, you can definitely love someone but not really like them, you know? For example; there are couples who very obviously love each other, it's hard to miss. But the closer you look the more you realize they don't actually like one another."

He listened intently, humming along.

"Then wha' does both look like?" He questioned, tilting his head.

"Us." You smiled softly.

"I love you so so so much and I know you love me the same but we also like eachother. At least I do! You're not just my boyfriend, you're also my best friend. And believe me, there are many relationships where that's not the case." You chuckled.

Johnny looked and felt like he was about to burst into tears of joy. You were a one hell of a woman and he couldn't believe his luck.

Here you were, affirming your love for him and fighting any bad thoughts and doubts in the middle of a goddamn pumpkin patch.

"You're ma best friend, too, mo leannan. Ah wouldnae have done this with anyone else." He said with a soft smile, pulling you into a sweet hug.

"I know what's going on in that brain of yours. But please remember that I wouldn't be with you if I didn't want to be, okay?" You whispered sincerely, pressing a kiss to his cheek while he nodded into the crook of your neck.

Johnny sniffled quietly and went to pull away but you clung to him tightly, burying your fingers in his jacket.

"Want a wee more lovin', eh?" He chuckled, taking you back into his arms.

"Yes, but also can you squeeze me really tight? I feel like I'm about to explode from excitment and I need to come back down to earth." You spoke, muffled with your cheek squished against his shoulder.

"Alright. One good squeeze comin' up." He announced with a grin, tightening his arms around you.

His biceps flexed around you as he held you to his chest, making sure to apply even pressure. You relaxed under the weight, sighing into his coat.

"Thank you." You said quietly as he slowly loosened his embrace around you.

"No problem at'all, lassie." He hummed, taking your hand in his.

"Now, pumpkins!" You announced loudly, storming off into the rows and rows of orange fruit with a cackling Johnny in tow.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

It had gotten dark, the air cold as the day went by. The Pumpkin Patch was lit up by torches and fairy lights, giving the whole establishment a cozy glow.

You were seated in the tent with Johnny, happily munching on whatever bizarre pumpkin flavored treat you had picked out.

You were talking and talking, barely eating, really, only suggestion ideas on how to carve your pumpkin and that one funny story from when you were a kid and your jack-o-latern got stolen.

Johnny listened carefully, a steady smile on his face. You changed it all for him. He always thought he knew love and that it would be a certain way. Some said it was simple, black and white.

Others spoke of hot red fire, saying it was addicting but dangerous. But, in reality, everyone's love looked different. It was an ever changing thing. It always had changed and it always will change for as long as humans are able to love.

And when Johnny thought of love, he saw you. He saw how you brought daylight into his life that seemed to be cursed to eternal darkness. He could finally see, thanks to you. When he thought of love, it was golden.

Golden like the twinkle in your eye.

Golden like the sound of your heartfelt laughter.

Golden like the gentle words and touches that you held just for him.

Golden like your soft hands that held his heart.

Golden like the ring he would put on your finger very soon.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

I hope you enjoyed 😚

More Johnny and others -> 💫

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

#bumblebeesfromvenus #soap x reader #johnny soap mctavish x reader #johnny mactavish #johnny mactavish x reader #john mactavish x reader #john mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #john soap x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mctavish x you #john soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #soap mw2 #johnny soap mctavish x you #cod mwii #cod x reader #cod x you

76 notes · View notes

pitchsidestories · 1 year ago

Text

Autumn leaves II Lia Wälti x Reader

"Do you ever wonder if the stars shine out for you? Float down Like autumn leaves Hush now Close your eyes before the sleep" ~ Ed Sheeran, Autumn Leaves

arsenal women masterlist I word count: 2509

With a smile on your lips, you watched Lia sweep the back porch of your house outside of London. The weather had slowly started to turn. Summer was saying goodbye with the last warm days of the year, while simultaneously, autumn was slowly arriving. The leaves had lost their green and started to fall, landing all over your backyard and your porch. For a second you just stood there and enjoyed your favourite season. But the smile suddenly disappeared from your face when your girlfriend started putting all the leaves into a bin.

“Lia, what are you doing? Don’t put all the leaves in there!“, you exclaimed. The Swiss football player flinched; “What? Why not?“ “Where are the hedgehogs supposed to get cozy when it’s time for them to hibernate?“ Lias eyes went soft as you explained your reasoning to her but she still rolled her eyes at you; “Oh my god.“ Fully aware that it was lovingly gesture, you asked; “Could we please use those leaves to make a spot for the wildlife in the corner of our garden?“ “Yeah, sure.“, Lia nodded, smiling and handed you the bin with the leaves. “Thanks, love.“ You put them into a pile in the farthest corner while Lia continued to clean your porch.

On your way back to her, you picked up some of the pumpkins growing in a small pumpkin patch. Proudly, you held them out to Lia; “Look, the pumpkins were ready. Do you use them as decoration or as dinner tonight?“ Your girlfriend carefully took one of the pumpkins and contemplated; “I’d like to use them as decoration. What do you think? Let’s put one on the table and a few on the porch?“ You nodded with excitement; “Yes, that sounds like a great idea.“ You placed a pumpkin on the table that you two moved outside earlier and set down the rest on the floor. Lia watched you happily, then turned around to look at the sky; “It’s still nice enough to eat outside, right?“ “Yes, with some more blankets, pillows and candles, it should be very cozy and comfy.“, you agreed, hugging yourself at the thought of how cute your garden will look.

“Do you want to take care of that, in the meantime I can start cooking?” With an innocent look you asked: ”Sure. Can I get a kiss before that?” The question melted the swiss woman’s heart, but she pretended to stay cool and just replied in a casual tone:” Okay fine.” It felt like the time was taking a break just like the nature did, as you two kissed each other.

Sadly, you both had still a lot to do before your guests would arrive, so you had to stop the kiss. A wide smirk was on your face as you remarked:” Now we can go back to work.” “Good.”, the brunette clapped encouraging into her heads.

It took you some time to make the setup outside as cozy and aesthetically pleasing for your friends as you liked. Eventually you told your girlfriend:” Everything is ready.” “The food is almost too.”, Lia answered fast, satisfied about how smooth the preparations were going.

You could not help but to enter the kitchen and taste the sauce with a little spoon:” It already smells delicious. Oh my god, this tastes great.” The midfielder was laughing while she playfully pushed you away from her territory: “Hey! That’s for the girls.” “Sorry, I’ll just hop into the shower real quick and change my outfit before our guests are slowly coming in.”, you apologized with a childish grin on your lips.

Sternly the swiss woman was looking at the clock:” Go ahead. But we don’t have much time left.” “I’ll be fast, promised.”, you sad to her, placing a soft kiss on her head. A slight blush was creeping up on your girlfriend’s cheeks, with a sigh she stated: “Alright. Just be dressed when the girls show up.”

Most of the girls arrived punctual on your terrace. Curiously Beth Mead turned to her dark haired teammate: ”Lia, where’s your flower girl?” “Flower girl?”, she glanced confused at her. Vivianne Miedema rolled her eyes because of her girlfriend’s goofy behaviour and explained: “Sorry, Beth is very proud of the nickname she came up with for your girlfriend.” Now it made sense to the older woman as your profession laid in gardening.

Slightly out of breath you turned up behind your girlfriend:” I’m here. Hi, girls.” “Hi, great to see you.”, Leah Williamson greeted you back, happy to see your face. Warmly you hugged the English defender:” Good to see you all too. Hi, Leah. Oh, and there are our two scots.”

Cheekily Jen Beattie smiled at you, Kim Little at her side observing everything with a quiet smile on her face:” Something is missing if we’re not here yet, right?”

Before you could comment on the older Scottish woman Steph Catley came up the porch with her dog Calvin who was very excited to see everyone again: “Sorry guys for being late. Calvin made some new dog friends along the way to your place.”

“That we have too many happy couples everywhere.”, the team captain joked. Instinctively you were reaching for Lia’s hand while turning your attention to the older player: “Kim, do you want a little more of that wine?” “No, I have to drive the others home.”, the Scottish midfielder shook her head. Amused Jen commented: “Always the captain even in civil.”

Earnest Kim looked at you and Lia:” But you should know, I was just joking. I’m happy for you two.” “We know, Kimmy, don’t worry.”, you reassured her.

Solemnly the tall Scottish defender lifted her glass:” We need to drink to you two.” “Oh yes, but afterwards we need to hear all about your engagement.”, Steph squealed excited, since she herself got engaged, she could not get enough of those stories.

Quickly Lia told her: “There’s not much to tell anyway.” “What do you mean by that?”, Beth noisily asked.

A soft sigh escaped your fiancées lip as she started to tell her friends about your engagement: “It was rather plain. I asked her on our holiday after World Cup.

Behind your closed eyes you were seeing that moment she was referring to you like a beloved film, the lovely swiss landscape in the background, you two enjoying a picnic, the brunette going down on her knee to ask you the question to which you only knew one answer to, yes.

Kim’s voice was bringing you back to the present:” I like that simple, classic, straight to the point.” “Kim!”, Jen scoffed annoyed at her old friend.

“Of course you do, with a smile Leah continued, Can we see the ring?” “Sure, that’s the one.”, you nodded while the blonde defender took her time to admire it. Her grin deepened as she turned to look at the Swiss woman: “But the ring is not as simple and plain. Nice choice, Wally.”

The compliment from her stylish friend made Lia beam even more:” Thanks, Lee. Ana helped me picking the right ring.” “Can’t believe you asked Ana instead of me. You know how much free time I have at the moment.”, Lia pouted.

The last thing the brunette wanted was to offend one of her closest friends in London: “I’m so sorry.” “I forgive you this time.” “Thanks.”, the midfielder let out a relieved breath she did not knew she was holding.

“But only because you two look so happy.“, Leah added with her arms crossed in front of her chest. You gave her a shy smile; “We’re very happy.“ “That is so cute.“, Beth grinned. She obviously didn’t miss Lias hand grabbing yours under the table. This time, even Vivianne nodded along; “Yes, you two have been dating for so long.“ “Yes, it felt like it was the right time.“, Lia agreed, looking at you. “True.“, you smiled back at her.

Finally, Lia tore her eyes away from yours and slowly stood up; “It’s getting dark. Let me light some candles.“ She lit the candles on the table and a few bigger outdoor candles. Calvin lazily lifted his head, watching her like his owner did too. “It’s so perfect.“, Steph gushed.

The sun had finally set and the faces of the football players were now illuminated by the flames. Leah leaned back in her chair and pulled a blanket onto her lap; “I could stay here forever.“ “You guys can sleep here if you want to.“, you offered with a shrug. Jen raised her eyebrows; “All of us?“ Unimpressed, you tilted your head; “Nothing we didn’t do before.“ A smile spread on Leahs face as she remembered the nights spend on the floor of Lias and your living room; “That’s true.“ “Girls.“, Kim interrupted. Jen looked down to her; “What?“ “I think the fiancées would prefer to have their home to themselves tonight.“, their captain continued. “Yeah, but they offered it, so… their fault.“, Jen shrugged. Leah nodded in support; “Exactly!“ “It’s fine, Kim. Really.“, Lia assured her but still looked grateful for the effort. Unconvinced, Kim gave in; “Okay, if you say so.“ “Just trust us. So, who wants dessert?“ Lia was already back up on her feet before the question was even out.

“Me!“, yelled Beth delighted while the rest answered with murmurs of agreement. “I think we all do.“, Leah summarized. “Yes, we all love dessert.“, agreed Vivianne. “Coming.“ With that Lia disappeared back into the kitchen. As she came back out and served them all the dessert she had prepared all morning. “This makes the opening game loss feel a little lighter.“, Steph said as she took the plate from Lia. Jen cringed; “No talk about that tonight.“ Admonishing, Lia waved her spoon in the Australians directions; “Exactly. We don’t talk about football here.“

The Swiss woman was thankful for Vivianne as she proposed a question to her fiancée: “Did you grew the pumpkins on your own?” “Yes, I did, if you guys want to you can take some of them to your home.”, you offered your guests with a proud smile. Delighted by that offer Beth turned to her girlfriend:” Viv, we should take one with us.” “Oh yes. Next time, we’ll all meet at our place and carve some Halloween pumpkins.”, the Dutch replied delighted. Excited the Blonde nodded along:” And I’ll make some pumpkin soup.” “We’ll be there.”, you winked at them. Happily, Beth said:” Good. Next girl night is planned.” “Yeah, I’m sure the kids will join us too.”, her girlfriend added with a grin on her face.

Laughing Kim interjected:” Does that mean the grandmas have to stay at home?” “No, you two are always welcome.”, Beth clarified. At the same time Jen gasped dramatically:” What do you mean us two? I’m not a grandma.” “You’re over thirty that makes you a grandma in football age!”, the smaller Scot scoffed. The taller Scottish defender gave her an amused look: “We’ve two very different views on our ages, Kim.” “I know that.”, Kim grinned back.

After all your friends had eaten Lia was cleaning the dishes in the kitchen while you watched her doing eat:” Wait, let me help you with that, love.” Oh, it’s fine. I can do it.”, the brunette reassured you. “No really, it’s too much for one alone.”, you grabbed a towel to dry the wet plates. “Okay then. I won’t stop you.” “You didn’t listen to the grandma talk, right?”, you asked cautiously. Smiling the midfielder shook her head: “No, I know they don’t mean me yet.” She paused for a moment before adding: “But I like having the girls around.” “Same, I love them so much.”, you agreed.

Thoughtfully Lia glanced at you :“Me too. But I also don’t mind being alone with you.” “Like right now?”, you replied. “Yes.” “Me too.”, you whispered, you two feeling the warmth and homely feeling between you. That made Lia giggle out loud: “Oh, I know.” More serious she continued: “I’m really tired. Should we leave the rest to clean up tomorrow.” “Yeah.”

The tiredness slowly crept into your bones aswell but it was a good one. From the way your eyes were going down the brunette decided:” Okay, let’s go to bed.”

On the way to your bedroom, you two paused to look lovingly into the living room as you whispered into her ear:” The rest is already asleep in there.” “They are the cutest.”, Lia admitted. “I agree.”

Only a few minutes later you were finally cozied up in your bed. The midfielder putted an arm around you, your eyes where already closed while you mumbled your voice already sleepy:” Good night, Lia.” “Sleep well, my love.”, she responded giving you a good night kiss before you both felt into a deep peaceful slumber.

#woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #lia walti x reader #lia walti #arsenal wfc #leah williamson #steph catley #beth mead #vivianne miedema #jen beattie #kim little #woso oneshot #woso #leah williamson x reader #arsenal wfc x reader #arsenal women

425 notes · View notes