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blue-lights-to-dreams · 1 day ago

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Golden Light // H.S.

synopsis: you go on a blind date with Harry at your best friend's insistence and enjoy it much more than you expected.

wc: 3.9k

a/n: i hope you guys enjoy this! i haven't written fic in a hot minute, so let me know what you think! this will likely have a part 2 where the exciting stuff happens, but writing even this much took me forever so i wanted to share before the Christmas mentions became irrelevant, lol!

The streets of New York City are beautiful this time of year. Christmas lights twinkle in nearly every retail storefront, some even including a dusting of ripped-up cotton balls and other snow-like materials. Just ignore the grey sludge coating the streets.

You were never one for holiday cheer, and today was no exception. Despite thinking the same of every single day, you’ve had what you would consider the longest day of your life. Your first meeting ran late by just a few minutes, but even this was enough to push your calendar so far off that you needed to reschedule your final call with the client you’d been waiting almost a month to meet with.

There was nothing more in this world you wanted to do than curl up in bed with a bottle of wine and a silk eye mask. But, here you were, trudging down the streets of New York City in your slightly uncomfortable heels, trying to dodge puddles, slush, and other mysterious substances on the sidewalk, on your way to a blind date. Emma had set you up with a friend of her boyfriend’s, and she’d made you promise you’d give him a chance.

Your last relationship had ended with a bang after you went to his apartment to surprise him after getting out of work early one afternoon, only to find him in bed with a blonde girl you never did learn the name of.

You could easily find a man to wake up to the next morning, but after years of running your own business, it wasn’t as simple as walking into a bar to meet Mr. Right. You’d dated enough men with little ambition; you needed someone who had drive– had success.

All you knew about your date for the night was his name was Harry, he was a record executive, and, according to Emma, he was hot.

The pit in your stomach only grew as you approached Bella Napoli. It didn’t help you’d spent the last six blocks trying to lift your dress and nearly-floor-length coat high enough to keep it out of the puddles.

The little blue location dot on your maps app glided closer to the restaurant with each step you took, nearly there - mist ghosted over your nose with each exhale, doing nothing to keep it warm in the frigid weather of the city, and you couldn’t wait to get inside.

Finally, you spotted the marquee sign affixed to the small brick building half a block up, signaling the end of your journey. The glass-front double doors opened easily under your hasty pull, eager to feel the heat of the brick building’s furnace.

“Good evening, ma’am,” the hostess greeted from behind her podium. She appeared to be in her early twenties, with long blonde hair and prominent cheekbones.

“Good evening, I have a reservation under (Y/L/N),” you brushed stray snowflakes off of your wool coat. Emma had ensured she would let Harry know the reservation would be under your name, and you hoped she hadn’t forgotten.

“Ah, yes, table for two? Right this way.” The young woman stepped from behind the podium and began heading toward the main dining area. You followed her as she snaked around the tables full of affluently dressed couples and businessmen in suits, reaching a small archway leading into a more dimly-lit section of the restaurant.

She led you to a booth in the corner with velvet seats and matching curtains, held open by small hooks on either side - out of sight from most of the other patrons in the section, who didn’t seem to be paying any mind to you anyway. A small candle sat between two menus, adjacent to a traditional silverware layout and an empty highball glass on either side of the booth.

You slid onto the bench facing the room’s entrance as the hostess filled each glass with ice water. She nodded as you thanked her and informed her a man by the name of Harry should be arriving soon to join you. Just in case Emma had forgotten.

The menu was short but obviously well-curated. The wine list was almost twice the length of the food menu - just how you liked it. You skimmed the offerings, deciding on a merlot of the second-highest price point. Your anxiety still made itself known in the way your stomach was twisting. You checked the time. It was 5:58 pm - still two minutes early. You hoped the wine would drown the butterflies (or maybe moths) in your stomach.

Your eyes returned to the restaurant’s food offerings but were again drawn upwards as another person sauntered into the secluded section of the restaurant. His pale grey, half-unbuttoned silk shirt settled just under the gold cross necklace grazing the indent between his pecs. A blazer of a much darker grey draped his shoulders, matching the straight-legged trousers just long enough to only allow the front of his patent-leather black loafers to peek out from under them.

The air suddenly felt heavy, like you couldn’t get a breath in. Who is the lucky lady he’s here with tonight? Your eyes darted around the section, trying to find his date, but coming up empty.

Shit, is this Harry?

Your fears are confirmed as you realize the hostess had entered the room a bit ahead of him and was leading him to your booth. The poor girl looked entirely flustered.

“Here you are, sir. Your waitress will be over shortly to grab your drink orders,” she squeaked, turning on her heels and scurrying away as quickly as possible.

You smiled at him as you shuffled out of the booth and rose to your feet, trying to seem much more confident than you were. You reached about the height of his shoulder in your heels.

“You must be (Y/N),” he spoke with a slight smile, glancing at your attire before returning his eyes to meet yours.

“That would be me. And you must be Harry.” You smiled back at him, subconsciously smoothing out the part of the dress resting on your hips.

Harry took a step toward you with arms extended, pulling you into an easy hug, His arms wrapped tightly around your shoulders and yours around his waist. He smelled like an intoxicating mix of vanilla, patchouli, and musk. Expensive. Even just brushing your fingers across his suit jacket as he pulled away, the feel of the fibers suggested it had also not been cheap.

“You look stunning. I love the color of your dress,” he complimented, pulling back slightly with his hand hovering over your waist. “It looks great on you.”

“Thank you, it was actually a gift from my mother.” Compliment-taking was not your forte.

“Well, she has great taste. Shall we?” He motioned toward the set table, waiting for you to take your seat before sliding into the bench on the opposite side. “Have you been here before?”

“I haven’t, but I’ve heard great things. Have you?” His ring-clad fingers picked up the beverage menu in front of him as you spoke.

“I have, it’s one of my favorites.” That must have been why he suggested it.

“Is the Merlot any good? That’s what I was thinking of ordering, but I’m open to suggestions.” You played with the seam of your dress under the table absentmindedly.

“Now that, I haven’t had. I’m more of a white wine guy myself. I’m a fan of the Riesling.”

“Really? My first guess would have been whiskey, honestly.” There exists a pattern in these kinds of men - they always drank some very expensive whiskey they needed to tell you all about, as if it didn’t taste like smoke-flavored lighter fluid.

“I tend to prefer a sweeter taste,” his eyebrows twitched as he raised the glass of water to his lips. You nodded before the two of you fell into a comfortable silence, taking time to browse the food menu.

It wasn’t very extensive, with a few choices to pick from each protein category. You settled on a grilled chicken tagliatelle with a cream sauce, hoping it would pair well with the wine.

“Hi, my name is Danielle and I’ll be taking care of you this evening,” a voice burst your bubble of concentration, “have we decided on what we’d like to drink?”

You recited your wine order first, with Harry following shortly after. The waitress jotted down your selections in her notepad before exiting the room with a promise to be back to take your food orders shortly.

“So, Emma said you work in marketing?” he spoke slowly. His accent was thick, only further drawing you into the conversation.

“PR, actually,” you replied, “I have my own firm, with a few employees. I love it.”

“That’s amazing,” he sounded sincere. “How long have you been in PR?”

“Almost a decade, but I’ve had the firm for a little over 3 years. At first, it was just myself operating out of my apartment, but we’ve been able to build up some clientele and move to an actual office space. Emma said you work for Atlas Sound, right?” you shifted the conversation away from yourself, curious about what exactly came with being a record executive.

“That’s right. I’m mostly in charge of production but I help out with some of the publishing aspects as well.”

“Ah, so no talent scouting? I was hoping this could be my big break…” you mused, narrowing your eyes at him. Harry chuckled, flashing the smile you’d found yourself dead set on seeing more of.

“No, no, unfortunately, that’s not me, but I may know some people who could help. Let me guess, rap?”

You almost choked on the water you’d just taken a sip of, but managed to swallow it before the laugh burst from your throat. It caught you off guard - Harry honestly didn’t look like he would even know what rap is. A silly notion, given his career, but true anyway.

“You have a beautiful laugh,” Harry stated sincerely, and your heart just about stopped.

Before you got the chance to respond, a full wine glass was placed in front of each of you. You hadn’t even noticed the waitress had come back. “Here are those drinks. Did we decide on what we’d like to eat? I can make some suggestions if you’re not sure what to get…”

It appeared as if she’d forgotten you were even in the room with the way she was staring directly at Harry. You couldn’t blame the girl - you’d been staring too - but she could definitely tell the two of you were on a date, so she could have at least been a little more subtle.

Harry smiled politely (and briefly) at her before turning his attention back to you to confirm you were ready to order. You both relayed your choices to the waitress, and you appreciated that Harry did not seem like he was interested in entertaining her advances.

“Anyways, where were we…” he smiled again, and your heart lurched.

Conversation flowed smoothly between the two of you, aided by the wine in your glasses. You found yourself getting less and less nervous about him not being the right fit, but more and more nervous you were somehow making a fool of yourself.

The story of how one of your interns accidentally jammed the copier so badly you had to buy a completely new unit made Harry laugh loudly. It was one of many stories you had from your job that were definitely funnier in retrospect than they were as they happened. You were aware you’d talked a lot so far, but you couldn’t help it. The way Harry spoke was attractive, but the way he listened was even better. He seemed genuinely interested in the stories you told, maintaining eye contact, nodding in the right spots, and asking thoughtful follow-up questions. It had been a while since you’d had a date genuinely listen to you, and it was refreshing.

He asked more about your job, and you found yourself telling him how as much as you like being “in charge” and able to have control over your firm, sometimes it was incredibly stressful, especially in emergencies. He could see the stress that followed you home every day seep back into your expression, despite you trying your best not to let it show.

His ring-clad hand slid across the table, fingers gently entwining with yours and giving them a quick squeeze.

“You know, I think you’re brave for taking that risk. You should be proud of what you’ve built.” The eye contact he made with you as he spoke was intense, with sincerity behind his words. His hand was warm, contrasting the cool feeling of the metal rings, and you subconsciously squeezed it back in an attempt to keep it where it was. Luckily, your hands stayed intertwined for another couple of minutes as you expressed your appreciation for his kindness and shifted the conversation back to his job until your food was in front of you.

The meals were delicious, just as Harry had promised. He’d ordered a mushroom risotto that looked delicious, and your pasta tasted perfect with the wine you’d chosen. Good job, self.

Soon, you found your plate nearly empty and your body warm from the alcohol. Your thoughts felt slightly fuzzy, and you caught yourself staring a little too long at the rings on Harry’s right hand, as well as the fingers adorning them. The muscles flexed as he moved his hands while speaking, and you couldn’t seem to tear your eyes away. You knew how his hand felt in yours, but how would it feel touching your cheek, against your back, gripping your -

“Did you save room for dessert? The tiramisu is incredible.” Harry’s voice broke your train of thought, and you quickly averted your eyes back to his. What seemed like a slight smirk played on his face, but you couldn’t tell if it was because he’d noticed the staring, or if the alcohol was just affecting him as well. You prayed for the latter.

“That sounds great, but I can probably only take a few bites. Would you want to share a piece?” you suggested, much too full for an entire dessert to yourself.

“I’d love to.” Harry absentmindedly tapped his fingers against the table in a rhythm you couldn’t place, not helping your attempts not to stare. “So, tell me more about that yoga class?”

The conversation flowed again, with Harry ordering dessert when the waitress stopped by. Of course, you were just as interested in his words as he was in yours, hanging on his every accented sentence. He was a captivating storyteller and his facial expressions were no different - you loved how his eyes lit up at the good parts and narrowed at the bad in the story. The slight scruff on his face complimented the way his mouth moved as it formed words, drawing you closer. How would they feel against your own lips, you wondered?

You could hear the words he was saying, but you weren’t fully listening as he continued telling you about the time he got a little too drunk at a friend’s birthday party and ended up volunteering to give a speech he had in no way prepared for. It was a great story, very funny, but your mind was otherwise preoccupied. Wine always made you… flirty.

Soon, the tiramisu was in front of you. This, too, looked delicious - Harry was right again.

“Would you like the first bite?” He offered, picking up one of the small forks laid out on the plate and scooping a bite of the dessert onto it.

“Well, ladies first I suppose,” you joked. You parted your mouth slightly as you leaned forward, waiting for him to place the fork on your tongue. What you weren’t expecting was for his other hand to reach out and lightly grasp your jaw, thumb on your chin to hold your mouth farther open. A choked gasp escaped your lips at the same time the sweet cake hit your tongue, but you could barely taste it, too distracted by the skin contact. Again, his eyes didn’t leave yours as he allowed your mouth to close and pulled his hand away from your face.

“Well? How is it?” he asked, with a definite smirk this time.

You tried to compose yourself before answering, swallowing the dessert and the lump that had formed in your throat. “It’s good… really good.” Your voice came out breathier than you intended, and you blinked heavily a couple of times, trying to kickstart the part of your brain that could think of anything except what you’d like to do with the gorgeous man sitting in front of you.

Harry took his own bite next, letting his eyes flutter shut as his mouth closed around the fork. His long eyelashes rested atop his strong cheekbones, the same ones you almost had to physically stop yourself from reaching over to brush your fingertips over. His lips were a stunning, dark shade of red, still slightly wet from the wine he’d been enjoying.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed the bite, slightly brushing against the collar of his shirt. Seafoam green eyes made contact with yours as he opened them again, and a small smile graced his face as he realized you’d been watching him intently.

“You’re right, it is really good.” Your heart raced under the fervency of his gaze. He was staring into you like he wanted to read the thoughts echoing in your brain. “Would you like another bite?”

“Sure, but I can feed myself this one if you like,” you attempted to lighten the intense mood that had befallen your booth so you might actually be able to catch your breath,

“That won’t be necessary, I was quite enjoying myself,” Harry mused, refusing to break eye contact until you did. He scooped another bite onto the fork, reaching over to brush a stray strand of hair behind your ear before resuming his grip on your jaw and returning the fork to your lips. He felt your jaw flex as you chewed and swallowed the bite, but didn’t take his hand off of your face. Instead, he brought his thumb back to your lips and brushed below them gently, careful not to smudge your lipstick.

He brought his thumb back to his mouth and slowly closed his lips around the pad of it, a half-smile tugging at his lips at your bewildered expression. “Sorry, you had a little something there. I figured I’d get it for you.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath instead of attempting to utter a response.

He took another bite himself before offering you another, which you obliged with little hesitation.

“You know, Harry, you need to be careful feeding me like this or I’ll get used to it.” Another feeble attempt to ease the tension and stop acting like a flustered teenager.

“I wouldn’t mind that,” he murmured, voice sincere and slow, laced with something that sent a shiver down your spine, “if it means I keep getting to see your cheeks flush.”

He’d noticed how your body was responding to him, whether or not you tried to hide it. Your face burned again, sinking further into the booth behind you in slight embarrassment.

“Well, it doesn’t help that I’m on a date with an attractive man who’s feeding me tiramisu. I think that’s every woman’s dream.”

“So it’s working?” His face glowed in the candlelight, a smirk on his face but a subtle vulnerability behind his eyes.

You knew what he was implying, but wanted to regain some of the power you’d lost by being so flustered. “Maybe.”

“That’s not good enough for me. I need a yes.” He needed confirmation that you were on the same page.

“And what exactly am I saying yes to?” A sip of wine ran down your throat as you awaited his response.

“To letting me walk you home after this,” Harry stated bluntly, scanning your face for your reaction. You couldn’t help the way your face flushed, but you held your composure, leaning back casually against the booth behind you as you pretended to mull it over. You already knew what you wanted.

“Alright, Harry,” you smirked, bringing the wine glass to your lips once more, “let’s see where the night takes us.”

- - - - - - - - - -

“God, it’s freezing out here,” you groaned, dodging patches of ice. You were nearly home, your apartment building visible up the street.

Harry had grabbed your hand under the guise of keeping it warm a few minutes ago, something you were grateful for now as you gripped it tightly, trying to navigate the snow-covered ground in heels with little traction. He’d offered to call an Uber, but you wanted some more time with him without a driver listening in on your conversation.

As you approached the building, your imagination ran with thoughts of getting him upstairs, into your apartment, into your living room…

Before you could get too far, you were at the front door. Your free hand patted over the pockets of your jacket to ensure that you had your keys and found them in your left pocket.

“I had a great time with you tonight, Y/N,” Harry turned to face you, not letting go of your hand. “I’d love to do this again, sometime, if you’d be interested.”

A slight flush now graced his face, glancing at the ground as he awaited your response.

“I had a lovely time. I’d love to see you again,” you confirmed quickly, not letting him worry for too long.

He was beaming now, allowing you to admire his prominent dimples. Your heart skipped a beat and you couldn’t help but smile right back at the sight.

“There’s that beautiful smile again,” he quipped. His free hand reached for your jaw, cradling it again as you both continued to grin at each other for a few moments. A silence fell upon you again, and Harry’s eyes searched yours for a second before flickering to your lips, which had slowly returned to a resting state. As he moved his gaze back up, your eyes gleamed with the reflections of Christmas lights and were swimming with the need for more contact with him. He inhaled slowly, nervously, before exhaling sharply. “Can I kiss you?”

You nodded quickly, gripping his collar to pull him closer before his mouth met yours. Electricity sparked between the two of you, his luscious lips colliding with yours over and over again, like he couldn’t get enough of you. The kiss started slow, but quickly became deeper, more desperate, as he gripped your waist tightly and pulled you close to him. Your hands searched for solace, moving from his collar to his cheeks before lightly running through the hair at the back of his neck.

He tore his lips away from yours but didn’t stray far, pressing his forehead against yours as you both tried to catch your breath. You could see both of your small pants in the air as they fogged due to the cold. A small smile played on each of your lips, and you just knew your lipstick was half-gone because you could definitely see some of it on Harry.

“You know,” you pulled away, straightening your stance confidently, “I have a bottle of wine upstairs if you’d like to help me drink it.”

Harry grinned. “I would love to.”

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles x y/n #harry x y/n #harry x you #harry styles #hs1 #hs2 #hs3 #one direction #harry #haz

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alice-everafter · 1 day ago

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"Is the room to your liking?"

Riddle's tentative voice rings through the peaceful silence. He's stood like a stranger, unsure and hesitant in his crimson pajamas. Which is ironic given the fact that it’s his own room that the two of you are in. Really, that should be you standing around awkwardly. But instead here you were, sat on his king sized bed in similar pajamas without shame.

"Riddle," you don't have to fake the giddy grin as it stretches across your face painfully wide. "Any room is to my liking considering the shack I currently call home."

He gives you a concerned little smile in response. You couldn’t help it, you were excited to finally be able to sleep on a mattress that wasn’t lumpy. Or creaky. And or slightly moldy. The point being you’re excited to get some good sleep.

Riddle flicks off the lights and starts to settle into bed. You follow his lead, because if there is one thing Riddle Rosehearts can do is be a commanding presence even in satin pjs.

He turns on his side, staring at you from across a reasonable gap given the fact that you were currently sharing a bed. A really big one at that but a bed regardless.

And then continues to stare as a questionable silence occurs.

“Do you always go to bed this early?” You blurt out before you can think any better of it. The awkwardness was just asking to be broken.

“This is early?” Riddle’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “I’ve always gone to bed at this hour, even as a child.”

You can just vaguely make out the light of the still setting sun from the window behind you.

“Well, I mean, what time do you normally get up?”

“6 am.”

“Oh,” well. Maybe he’ll let you sleep in, enjoy the luxury of a non-lumpy bed while you still can.

“You seem apprehensive.” Riddle fiddles with the blanket in his hands where it rests right below his chin. You try and shoo the imagery of a small child being tucked in out of your brain.

Thank god his unique magic didn’t have to do with reading minds, otherwise you’d be thrown to the streets with a collar as a parting gift.

Speaking of collars and lack there of, today had marked a month since Riddle’s “big summer blowout” as you have codenamed it as. And what started as a “1 month of sobriety” joke by Ace turned into an actual celebration by Cater. So, naturally, you dragged yourself along and helped yourself to Trey’s mouthwatering pastries. But then one thing led to another and somehow you were roped into playing a Twisted Wonderland version of Monopoly that led to Grim melting all the plastic house pieces in a fit of firey tantrum to then being forced to fix them by Riddle in an impromptu magic lesson/lecture and—

Yeah, so a lot happened. And next thing you know, you’re being surveilled watched by Trey as you meticulously brush your teeth along to his direction… for some reason? Turns out Ace wasn’t spewing complete lies about Trey’s “fetish” for teeth. You wouldn’t call it that, personally. It was more like a… slightly uncomfortable passion.

But anyway, here you are. Sleeping over at Heartslabyul because Riddle had insisted you and Grim stay the night since by the time you had realized, it was past curfew. Though, surprisingly, Riddle insisted that you share his bed. And Grim, still more than a little apprehensive about the Dormhead, scampered off to sleep with the other freshmen. Cramped dorm rooms be damned.

“Prefect?”

You shake yourself from your thoughts, realizing you had left Riddle hanging for your answer.

“No, no. I’m just… difficult to get up in the morning.” You settle on saying, fiddling with the comforter much like Riddle was.

“Oh, well you can’t be worse than Ace. He’d sleep the entire day away if I allowed it.”

You can see that familiar spark of disapproval flare up behind his eyes and you instinctively tense up. Though as quick as it was there, it fizzles out. Reminding you that yes, this was Riddle, but not the same one that nearly decapitated you with a rose bush.

This is the one that you saw break down in tears on the Heartslabyul lawn after treating it like a playground sandbox. The one that nearly did it again—the crying part, not the sandbox bit—as he pulled you aside and apologized for nearly killing you.

You remind yourself that as you decide to take a small leap of faith with your next words.

“I was also sort of hoping to sleep in tomorrow.”

“Oh,” is all he says. Which isn’t terrible, but not exactly good either.

“Since, you know. It’ll be Sunday. And, you know, still the weekend so. Good to get caught up on sleep while you can… you know.”

He’s analyzing what you’ve said, you can tell by the way his eyes get wide and concentrated. Oh, he’s biting his lip now. That means he’s actually considering your thoughts. He’s thinking, he’s about to speak—

“Alright.”

“…Alright?”

“Yes, alright.” He seems to solidify his answer with a nod. “Let’s sleep in.”

Those words settle in your chest like the sweetest relief.

“Brilliant idea, Riddle!” You can feel the excitement as it grows in your chest. So much so you reach over and grasp his hand, shaking it in emphasis. “You won’t regret this, I tell you.”

“You’re acting like I’ve just done something revolutionary.” He titters, cheeks pink from the unexpected contact as you basically start shaking his hand like an eager businessman after a hard won deal.

“How many times have you slept in before?”

He opens his mouth to respond, ponders, and then slowly shuts it.

“See! So it's basically revolutionary. Why do you think we threw you a party?"

"Oh, and that's another thing." He seems to remember something at the mention of the party. "The fact that Ace and Cater kept congratulating me on my '1 month of sobriety' is pure nonsense. I've never had a lick of alcohol my whole life, so why would I be sober if I never got not sober to begin with?"

As he rambled, you could see his confusion slowly shifting towards indignance. His cheeks were beginning to flush, eyebrows knitting together. His fingers were clenching and unclenching in the sheets pulled over his body.

He looks at you now with pursed lips, bordering on pouty, waiting for a reply.

"...Well, it's a, um..." You stop yourself from saying joke. If you wanted Riddle to not possibly get offended, you'd need to overexplain as much as he can overthink. "It's supposed to be ironic. As in like, 'haha get it? Riddle would never get drunk and therefore sobriety makes no sense and therefore is funny!' kind of ironic."

You subconsciously ended up avoiding eye contact throughout your entire explanation. And also leaving out the comparison of his... "moments" with alcoholism, since you didn't think that would go over very well. So when you finish and decide to just bite the bullet and look, his expression is one of... disappointment?

"Oh," he says, simply and softly. "I see, I guess that... makes sense."

...Maybe you should explain the comparison. "If you need me to elaborate, I can."

"No," he quickly responds with a shake of the head. "That won't be necessary. Your explanation was more than enough."

His eyes are trained on a loose piece of thread near the edge of his pillow yet it's like he's staring straight through it.

"Is there... something else then that's on your mind?"

"I guess I am just... realizing a few things about myself. Especially in regards to these past few months. All those times when I overheard a student comment that I 'couldn't take a joke' were, in essence, correct."

"What?" Talk about a topic shift. "Wait, hold on a second, where did this come from?"

"From just now, actually." He begins picking at the thread he's been zoning out on. "I mean, you saw me. I almost talked myself into a tizzy over, what? A harmless phrase that had no intention of demeaning my character? That ended up turning into a party meant to congratulate me?"

"Well, I mean, there is an underlying comparison between your 'tizzy' moments and alcoholism so—"

"Ace was right."

You blink, momentarily wondering if the person laying across from you is actually Riddle or not.

"How?" You don't bother with hiding your incredulousness, too confused to sugarcoat.

"When he said that everyone around me only panders to my behavior." He huffs, a small humorless laugh filled with self deprecation. "I, all that time, was just silencing thoughts and behavior that I viewed as wrong even though it would've been right. It's no wonder some of the freshman are still hesitant with me. Why it feels like everyone is walking around eggshells when they talk to me."

"Even you, Prefect." He looks... small, truly like a child. Curled into himself like he wishes to disappear from sight. Blinking rapidly like he's trying not to cry. "Even you do it. You let me do what I want, you're never 100% honest with me, and you justify my responses. Like just now."

You open your mouth to rebuttal, but he shakes his head, smiling sadly.

"Don't bother, I can give you examples. Asking me if we could sleep in, expecting me to disagree. Only half explaining the meaning to me since it'd be directly referencing my anger. Which you have yet to actually name for what it is, not once."

You... hadn't even realized you were doing that. It was all just, natural. Instinctive.

"I can... I'm not the most perceptive but, I can tell when you tense up, Prefect."

He meets your gaze, and that's when you process the tension in your shoulders. You had been tensing them, for who knows how long.

"I don't blame you," he speaks before you can begin to try and say anything in response. "Not after everything I did, not after I overblotted and nearly got us all killed."

He looks defeated as he turns over to lie on his back, staring up at the canopy of his bed.

"Ace and all of them were right, I'm just a baby tyrant."

The two of you lapse into silence, you with nothing to say and him having said it all. You don't know how long you stare at his profile for, just scraping the recesses of your brain for the words to say. But eventually, you decide "fuck it" and just let him have it. Like he deserves.

"So you're a bit of a control freak." His head snaps to you but you force yourself to ignore it, barreling onwards. "Scratch that, you ARE a control freak. Can you blame yourself? What with that shitty mom you have, I'd be surprised if you didn't turn out some form of fucked up."

"My mother is—"

"Nope," you abruptly hold a finger up right to his face. "None of that, I'm talking. You want the truth so I'm giving you the truth. Your mom sucks, severely. She basically made you into the baby tyrant that you are. And we, as friends and as your dormmates, have perpetuated that attitude. Thereby continuing the cycle of tyranny until when someone eventually called you out on it, you exploded."

All that momentary fight dies out the more you went on. Every new statement was like a lash across his face. Now he refuses to look at you, too disappointed to meet your gaze. Eyes glossy with unshed tears.

You cross the invisible wall between you two and reach out, grabbing his hand once again in yours.

"But that doesn't mean you can't change." You squeeze his hand, whether to reassure yourself or him is beyond even you. "The fact that you're acknowledging your behavior is proof enough that you're on your way to fixing it. But even then, healing isn't linear. If you take a few steps back, just get back on it again. It's going to be a while but there's nothing you can do about that except let it happen and be patient. Don't let every reminder of your faults be a dissuasion, let it be a motivator to keep going."

You take a moment to breathe, but also to gauge his reaction. Wide eyed and staring at you in wonderment, Riddle lays unmoving. Nothing but the dim impression of street lights outside to illuminate his form in the darkness of his bedroom. Looking at you and only you.

"I'll do better," you tell him, resolute. "I'll hold you accountable. I'll remind myself more to say what I mean, or even call you out on your shit if I need to. And if not me then someone else will, especially Ace. Consequences be damned with him."

He's lying once more on his side, mirroring you like before. His fingers have since found their place around your hand, holding it in kind. His grip tightens with the lull in your speech. You don't know whether it was intentionally or not but it's enough to encourage you to let that last little thought out.

"And for what it's worth, I think you're doing as good a job as any, Riddle."

Silence settles in, him with nothing to say and you having said it all. Well, almost having said it all.

"So," you pipe up before those tears you can see in his eyes decide to fall. "I think this call for a concluding hug, what do you say?"

So, so many emotions fly across his face as you hold open your arms as best you can while lying on a bed. Eventually, what he settles on doing is laughing. Watery and in disbelief, Riddle laughs and leans forwards into your arms.

"Honestly," he chides without an ounce of real intent as he presses his face into your shoulder. "That's how you decide to end your thoughts?"

"I don't see you doing any better, Mr. 'I'm just a baby tyrant.'"

A month ago, that response would've gotten you a one way ticket to collar town. But tonight, he only laughs and holds you tighter.

"Touché, Prefect." He leans back enough that you're able to watch as a smile spreads across his face, unabashed and bright like the sun.

It's one of the firsts of its kind that you've ever seen on his face. You hope you can keep producing more just like it.

#merry f-ing christmas #here's some food #yes i know it's been a while college tried to eat me alive #never take 20 credit hours in one semester #but anyways i'm back and with riddle this time #this was meant to be more lighthearted and less actual coping advice but idk what happened my finger slipped or smth #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst #twst scenarios #twst imagines #twst x reader #twisted wonderland scenarios #twisted wonderland x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle rosehearts #alice writes twst

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mapis-putellas · 2 days ago

Text

𝑹𝒆𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒕/𝑩.𝑴𝒆𝒂𝒅

The day started off on a high note for you. It was one of those rare mornings where you woke up feeling genuinely light, like the world had shed some of its weight overnight. The hum of the fridge didn’t bother you. The texture of your favorite jumper felt soft and familiar instead of scratchy and overwhelming. Even the rain tapping against the windows sounded more like a rhythm than a distraction.

Beth, however, wasn’t her usual self. Normally, she’d greet you with a teasing grin, pulling you into a hug and pressing kisses to your cheek. But today, her posture was slouched and her usual sparkling blue eyes seemed dull.

“Morning,” you said brightly as you bounced on your toes near the kitchen counter, watching her sip her tea.

“Morning,” she replied, barely looking at you.

You tilted your head, studying her for a moment. You weren’t always great at picking up emotions, but even you could tell something wasn’t right. Still, you didn’t press. Beth wasn’t one to bottle things up for long, and if she needed to talk, she would.

Instead, you decided to focus on your rare good mood, hoping some of your energy might rub off on her.

“I was reading about leafcutter ants this morning,” you started, your voice bubbling with excitement. “Did you know they use the leaves to grow fungus? They can’t actually eat the leaves—they’re just farmers! Isn’t that amazing?”

Beth didn’t respond, her gaze fixed on her tea. You took her silence as an invitation to continue, bouncing slightly as you spoke.

“And their colonies are huge, Beth. Like, millions of ants! And they’re so organized. They’ve got these tiny highways, and they even have guards to protect them from predators.”

“Mm-hmm,” Beth muttered, her tone distracted.

You frowned slightly but pushed on, determined to cheer her up. “And there’s this one type of butterfly that’s evolved to mimic ant larvae so it can live in the nest. The ants actually take care of it, thinking it’s one of their own!”

“Can you stop?”

Her words were sharp and unexpected, slicing through your excitement like a knife. You froze, your hands halfway through a gesture to explain the butterfly’s mimicry.

Beth sighed, setting her tea down with more force than necessary. “I mean it. Just… shut up for a bit, yeah? I can’t deal with this right now.”

Her tone was clipped, her voice tinged with irritation, and it hit you like a physical blow. Your arms dropped to your sides, and the bouncing that had accompanied your words came to an abrupt halt.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper. You couldn’t meet her eyes, your gaze fixed on the floor as your cheeks burned with embarrassment.

Beth didn’t say anything else, her silence echoing louder than her words ever could. You turned quickly, retreating to the safety of your shared bedroom.

Once inside, you closed the door behind you and crawled under the duvet, pulling it tightly around yourself like a cocoon. The warmth was a small comfort, but it did little to stem the flood of emotions swirling in your chest. You felt silly, embarrassed, and most of all, ashamed.

The things you shared with Beth, the endless stream of facts and curiosities that made up so much of who you were, had always brought her joy. She’d tease you for your “insect obsession,” but her smile and laughter told you she loved it. Except for today.

You curled up tighter, the covers muffling the sound of your uneven breathing. Your fingers itched to graze over something soft—Beth’s skin, usually—but you didn’t dare go back to her now.

Time passed slowly, and you stayed hidden beneath the duvet, your mind replaying the moment over and over again. You barely heard the soft knock on the door.

“Love?” Beth’s voice was quiet, hesitant.

You didn’t respond, unsure if you even could.

The door creaked open, and you felt the mattress dip as Beth sat beside you. Her hand hesitated before resting gently on your shoulder, the touch tentative.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice cracking slightly. “I didn’t mean to snap at you like that.”

You didn’t move, your face still buried in the pillow.

Beth sighed, shifting to lay beside you. She tugged the duvet back just enough to slip underneath, wrapping an arm around your waist.

“You didn’t deserve that,” she continued, her voice soft but firm. “I’m having a bad day, and I took it out on you. That wasn’t fair.”

You sniffled, finally turning your head to look at her. Her eyes were filled with regret, her brows knitted together in concern.

“I just wanted to make you happy,” you murmured, your voice trembling.

Beth’s face crumpled, and she pulled you closer, tucking your head under her chin. “You always make me happy,” she said fiercely. “I was just being an idiot. None of this is your fault.”

Her words were a balm, but the sting of the earlier moment still lingered. You stayed silent, letting her hold you as you tried to sort through your jumbled emotions.

Beth pressed a kiss to your temple, her lips lingering. “I love hearing about your ants and your butterflies and whatever else you’re excited about. Don’t stop telling me, okay?”

You nodded slowly, your fingers creeping up under her shirt to rest against the soft skin of her back. The familiar sensation grounded you, and you felt your breathing start to even out.

The rest of the day passed in a haze of uncertainty. Even as Beth’s arms stayed firmly wrapped around you on the couch, a warmth that should have comforted you, your body felt stiff and hesitant, your mind playing on a loop of her earlier words.

Shut up.

You replayed the moment in your head over and over again, analyzing every detail, every nuance of her tone, even as you knew it would only make your chest tighten further. It wasn’t just the words themselves. It was the way they had stripped away the small confidence you’d built in sharing your world with her.

Beth’s head rested against your shoulder, her fingers absently tracing patterns on your thigh. Normally, you would have responded in some way —leaned into her, placed a hand over hers, or even tucked her closer. But now, you just sat there, frozen, your eyes fixed on the muted television screen.

“You okay, love?” Beth’s voice was soft, cautious, but even that wasn’t enough to undo the knot in your stomach.

You nodded quickly, your gaze darting to her for only a moment before returning to the screen.

She shifted beside you, sitting up a little straighter. “Sure? You’ve gone quiet on me.”

Your hands instinctively pulled at the sleeves of her oversized hoodie, the fabric soft between your fingers as you bit down gently on the cuff. It was a habit Beth had seen countless times before, but the added bounce of your leg gave you away.

“I’m fine,” you murmured, though the waver in your voice betrayed you.

Beth frowned, her hand moving to rest on your knee in an attempt to still its movement. You flinched ever so slightly at the contact, and her frown deepened.

“Talk to me,” she urged gently, her thumb stroking over the fabric of your leggings.

You shook your head, swallowing hard. Your chest felt too tight, your throat too constricted to form any proper words.

Beth sighed softly, leaning back into the couch. “You’re still upset, aren’t you?”

You hesitated, unsure how to respond. You didn’t want to upset her further, didn’t want to say the wrong thing. But the silence stretched too long, and you felt her shift again, this time pulling away slightly.

“Hey,” she said, her voice firmer now. “Don’t do that thing where you go quiet on me. Please.”

“I’m not,” you replied quickly, though it was a lie and you both knew it.

Beth exhaled sharply, and though she didn’t say anything, the sound made your shoulders tense. You bit harder on your sleeve, your teeth sinking into the fabric as you fought to keep your emotions in check.

She didn’t push further, and the silence that followed felt unbearably heavy.

Dinner was equally strained. Beth had offered to cook, her way of making up for earlier, but you couldn’t bring yourself to accept the gesture fully. Instead, you sat at the kitchen table, your hands tucked under your thighs as you watched her move about the space.

Normally, you’d be beside her, stealing bites of whatever she was making and asking a million questions about the recipe—or, more likely, telling her about a new book you’d read or an interesting fact you’d discovered. But now, you barely said a word, your focus entirely on the way her blonde hair fell over her shoulder as she worked.

Beth glanced at you a few times, her brows furrowed, but she didn’t comment. Instead, she slid a plate in front of you once everything was ready, her expression softening as she sat across from you.

“Eat up,” she said, her tone light but watchful.

You nodded, picking up your fork and poking at the food without much enthusiasm.

“You don’t like it?” she asked after a moment, her voice laced with worry.

“No, it’s good,” you replied quickly, though you didn’t take a bite to prove it.

Beth watched you for a long moment, her fork paused midway to her mouth. “You’re still biting your sleeve.”

Your hand froze, the fabric of her hoodie still pressed to your lips. You hadn’t even realized you were doing it.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, dropping your hand to your lap.

“Don’t apologize,” Beth said immediately, her voice soft. “I’m just… worried about you. I hate seeing you like this.”

You didn’t respond, focusing instead on your plate as you tried to will your leg to stop bouncing under the table.

Beth sighed, setting her fork down. “I know I upset you earlier, and I’m so sorry for that. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I was in a mood, and I took it out on you, and that’s not fair.”

You nodded faintly, still not looking at her.

“Love, please.” Her voice cracked slightly, and it made your chest ache.

Finally, you glanced up, meeting her gaze for only a second before looking away again. “I’m fine,” you said quietly, though it was clear to both of you that you weren’t.

Beth reached across the table, her fingers brushing against yours. You flinched again, pulling your hand back instinctively.

The hurt in her eyes was immediate, and you felt a pang of guilt so sharp it made your stomach churn.

“I don’t know how to fix this,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

You looked at her then, really looked at her, and saw the sincerity in her expression. She was trying. She always tried. But you couldn’t shake the lingering fear that had taken root in your chest.

“I don’t want to annoy you again,” you admitted, your voice trembling.

Beth’s eyes widened, and she immediately stood, rounding the table settle on your lap. She cupped your face gently, her thumbs brushing away the tears you hadn’t realized had started to fall.

“You could never annoy me,” she said firmly, her blue eyes locking onto yours. “I was being a grumpy cow earlier, and I snapped, but that’s on me—not you. I love everything about you, okay? Especially the way you get excited about things and want to share them with me. That’s one of my favorite things about you.”

You searched her face, looking for any sign of insincerity, but all you saw was love and regret.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, though you weren’t entirely sure what you were apologizing for.

Beth shook her head, pulling you into a hug. “Don’t be. Just… don’t stop being you, yeah? I don’t want you to feel like you have to hold back around me.”

You clung to her, your arms wrapping tightly around her waist as you buried your face in her shoulder. Her fingers ran soothingly through your hair, and for the first time that day, you felt yourself start to relax.

Tags:

@ceesimz @marysfics @girlgenius1111 @codiemarin @simp4panos @silentwolfsstuff @goldenempyrean @xxnaiaxx @liloandstitchstan

#beth mead #beth mead x reader #woso community #woso x reader #woso appreciation #woso imagine #fluff #angst #woso one shot

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starlighttsv · 3 days ago

Text

Day 5

Merry Christmas Baby - p.b

Sum: reader surprises Paige for Christmas during Christmas break

Warnings: just fluff

Note: Merry Christmas Eve to all who celebrate 🫶

Pair: Paige x longdistancegf!reader

Wc: 1.2k

Requested by @rosemariiaa lmk if there is anything you want added or changed

My masterlist

“Ma’am, Ma’am we’re landing ” you’re shaken awake by the sweet old lady sitting next to you “mm thank you ma’am” you groan out sleepily starting to sit up and stretch “is this your first time flying?” She asks you while you’re situating yourself in your seat. “No. Me and my girlfriend are long distance so we always fly to each other when we can.” She nods “is this your first time?” You ask back while the plane starts going down “No. just my first time without my husband, he’s already in Minnesota with our family” you nod and before you can reply she asks another question “Does your girlfriend know your coming? Or is it a surprise?”

“It’s a surprise. Her dad and step mom are helping me pull it off” she nods saying “that’s so sweet, I remember when me and my husband were young and doing long distance. It is hard and challenging but if you both really want it then it’s not impossible.” “Thank you, we’re trying.” She nods and gives you a pat on your arm, starting to stand up as the plane has landed “it was nice talking to you, I hope you and your girlfriend have a very merry Christmas!”

“You too! Merry Christmas to you and your family!” You replied back also starting to stand up so you can get your carry-on, she smiles at you and says thank you. You both eventually end up walking off the plane and making your way to baggage claim. You’ve been texting Bob since you got off the plane as he was gonna be the one to pick you up, he said Moe took Paige to the mall so they could do some Christmas shopping

Once you got your luggage you started making your way to the area bob said he was. When you see him you immediately start walking a little faster, hugging him once you reached him

“Hey! How was your flight?” He questions while hugging you back “good, long though.” He laughs “well yeah, you just flew from Boston to Minnesota. Figured we could go get some food and then take you back home, Moe just texted saying they’re just entering the last store for today.”

You nod agreeing to what he just said “I’m starving so I’m good with this plan.” He just chuckles and takes your suitcase from you, leading you out of the airport and to the car

You guys have just gotten back to the house after eating and now are trying to hurry and figure out the best way to do the surprise. “What if I left my bags out in the living room or by the front door and went up to her room, and you told her a guest made it a few days earlier then Christmas and that she’s sharing her room with said guest, and then ask her to bring my bags up to her room and then she’ll see me?”

“Yeah that could work-“ he gets cut off hearing a car pull into the drive way “go hide!” He tells you making you run up the stairs and into Paige’s room. You lay down on her bed and go on your phone, you hear the front door open and then some talking - when you hear Paige start coming up the stairs you put your phone down and look at the door waiting for her to come in.

When she knocks on the door you don’t answer making her think the guest that her father would not tell her who was asleep, giving her the go ahead to open the door and put the bags against the wall. She starts walking out of the door so you quickly knock down her water bottle that was on her nightstand to make her look in your direction and when she does she gasps and her eyes widen

“Wait-“ she cuts herself off “hey baby!” When you say that it’s like her brain unfreezes cause she’s immediately running towards the bed and jumping on you. You laugh hugging her back.

“How’d you get here? When’d you get here? What?” She says fully shocked that you’re even here “Bob and Moe helped me pay for my flights, and we had just gotten to the house when you and Moe pulled in.” She just looks at you surprised “she’s one of your Christmas presents by the way. Flights during Christmas are extremely expensive” Bob says in the doorway of her room jokingly

She just turns her head still laying on you “ that’s fine, she’s the greatest gift I could’ve gotten” Bob just shakes his head amusingly and leaves the doorway heading back downstairs.

“How long are you here?” She asks turning back to you “3 weeks” you can tell she’s confused but excited that your gonna be here that long “two of the weeks are my winter break and I’m taking a week off of school so I can see some of your basketball games” she doesn’t say anything and instead just hugs you shoving her face in your neck “I love you so much” she mumbles into you

“I love you more” you say kissing her on her forehead. She shakes her head and lifts her head away from your neck so it’s hovering over your face “not possible” she mumbles over your lips, immediately kissing you after saying that

It’s now Christmas morning, Paige had woken up a few minutes ago and started playing with your hair and kissing you all over your face trying to wake you up.

Now you’re laying your head on her chest with one arm draped across her stomach drawing random shapes on her stomach while she fiddles with the ends of your hair

“I can’t wait to spend these 3 weeks with you.” Paige mumbles into your hair. You just lean up and give her a few kisses “I love you” you mumble against her “and I love you” she pulls you back in to the kiss

You both pull away after a few seconds “Drew’s gonna be storming in here in about 3 minutes” Paige says making you laugh a little bit “then I guess we should get up” you say looking at her making her groan out and pull you into her more “I just want to lay in bed and cuddle with you” she pouts “well we can cuddle on the couch?” She just groans but starts getting up from the bed

She helps you get up and then you both walk out the door immediately seeing Drew on his way to Paige’s room - making him stop in his tracks for a minute before he runs up to both of you grabbing both of your hands and “pulling” you guys to the living room

You and Paige sit on the love seat while everyone else sits on the couch or the floor, Bob starts passing out the presents with everyone opening theirs. Once the gifts are opened and the food is eaten everyone decided to watch a movie before we all had to get dressed.

Your laying your head on Paige’s chest again with her still fiddling with the ends of your hair, while you focus on the Christmas movie playing right now

“Merry Christmas baby” Paige whispers in your ear

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x fem!reader #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers x reader #paige x reader #uconn x reader #wnba x reader #paige bueckers fic #starlighttsvchristmascountdown

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hopcneverdies · 3 days ago

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“am i?” hans asked with a quirk of an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips in a welcome challenge. he didn’t know where this confidence was coming from, but he liked it. he liked thinking about all the different ways he could spoil june—liked the fact that he could. “maybe i’m just talking a big game right now, but just you wait.” he laughed despite himself, carding his fingers through his hair as a familiar habit.

there were only a handful of other kids now, their parents fixing their coats and making sure they got everything they needed to get home. hans gave the other parents a smile as he went the opposite way, inside of the room instead of out, sunny in tow and excited to share her works of art. he followed june diligently, his eyes trained on the back of his head, as if even his hair was worth memorizing, the fall of each tendril more exciting than anything hans had ever seen before.

when they finally reached the cubbies and june looked through sunny’s, hans couldn’t help but crane his neck to take a peek over june’s shoulders, curious about this little collection of stuff that belonged to his daughter. he knew everything she had back at home, could probably pinpoint where she last put down a toy she was looking for hours later, but here in this classroom, sunny and june had things like these, pieces of art and pieces of their life that hans would wait patiently to see at the end of each day.

he took the drawing june held out, lifting it carefully and looking at it properly. sunny was beside him, her head held high, proud of what she had done. hans could see what june meant—the good grasp of color was there, the flower drawing turning out to be much more constructed than what hans had imagined. “wow, sunny bear, you did great,” he said fondly, reaching out to give her a gentle squeeze. “it must be all the flowers she sees in the shop,” he said to june this time, his eyes still trained on the artwork his daughter had made. “i think we might have an artist on our hands.”

hans held the drawing for a few more minutes, letting this moment of appreciation for sunny’s art drag on, and letting the quiet emptiness of the room settle over them. there was no need to lower their voices anymore, hans could talk to june like he wanted to, with no worries that other parents might overhear. this was how their day would end starting today, with the three of them together as their days came to an end, celebrating the small victories of the day.

he looked up at june still holding the flowers he had given him, and he knew there was nothing that could stop him from pursuing this now. he smiled warmly at him, his gaze soft and fond, and all together expressing what he couldn’t say in words.

after a few more moments, he finally broke the silence, handing back the drawing to june. “are you ready for dinner?”

june couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped him as hans lowered his voice to promise more spoiling. it was such a quiet, intimate gesture, but it carried a weight that made june’s chest feel tight in the best way. “hope you know you’re really setting a high bar for yourself,” he replied softly, shaking his head with a smile that barely masked the flutter of his heart.

his gaze fell briefly to sunny, her tiny hand nestled in hans’, the picture of warmth and trust. it was a simple moment but one that stirred something deep inside him — an ache that wasn’t painful, a yearning that wasn’t desperate. this was what stability looked like, and june was still learning how to let himself be part of it.

when hans asked about seeing sunny’s work, june’s smile grew, and he looked at toward the art cubbies near the back of the room. “actually, i think we can make time for that. her flower drawing turned out beautifully. she’s got a great sense of color for her age — definitely takes after someone i know.” he shot hans a playful glance before making his way to the cubbies, the bouquet still tucked securely in the crook of his arm.

the classroom had quieted significantly, the hum of conversation and footsteps fading as most parents filtered out with their children. june found sunny’s cubby easily, pulling out a stack of papers and flipping through them until he found her drawing. carefully, he returned to hans and sunny, holding the picture up for them to see. “here it is,” he said, holding it out for hans to take, his gaze settling back on the man standing across from him.

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honey-on-your-tongue · 2 days ago

Text

FWB

Part 4 Logan Howlett x fem!reader Series masterlist

Logan isn't sure when or how it happened. It just…did.

He wakes up next to you every morning now. He falls asleep next to you every night. It's become routine, part of his day, as natural as if he's always been doing it.

Somehow, falling asleep next to you turns into cuddling, which then turns into late night conversations until you're both too exhausted to keep talking.

And Logan is…happy. He feels lighter, he's got more energy. Suddenly the world isn't the sullen place he always thought it was.

He convinces himself it's the sex. Convinces himself that's what has him in such a good mood. It couldn't possibly be anything else other than the sex.

It's his favorite part of the day now. He looks forward to lying next to you, to listen to you talk about your day. He just focuses on your words, on the sound of your voice, as he gently caresses your skin.

And he shares with you, too. Little, but he shares. He likes the way you pay attention, the way you actually listen to what he has to say. It makes him feel…seen. And it sounds silly, but that's how he feels. That's one of the many things he likes about you.

You're smart, you're sweet, you're funny. He enjoys talking to you so much, that the idea of going somewhere with you and just talking about anything and everything slowly starts to grow in his mind. It takes shape; he thinks of places, of times, of days. And he decides that an afternoon coffee with you would be the most suitable. Now there's only the matter of asking you.

And despite everything you two have done, this has him nervous.

He's antsy and jumpy as he walks up to you one day, hands balled into fists.

“Hey, bub,” he greets casually.

You turn to face him, eyes bright. And you smile and he's lost.

A little voice in the back of his head is insisting that a girl like you would never want him, that you're way out of his league. But he gathers his courage and pushes himself to ask anyway.

“So, I was wondering,” he says, “if you're busy today? In the afternoon?”

“Today? No, I'm not busy,” you reply. He sighs in relief. “Why?” you add curiously.

“I wanted to see if you wanted to go out with me? Like to go get coffee?”

You blink and his heart drops. She's gonna say no.

Is…is he asking me on a date?

You're pretty sure he did. At least that's what it sounded like. But he said it so casually, maybe he just meant it as friends or something?

“Um. Coffee?” you echo, grimacing internally. You sound like an idiot, but you hope Logan doesn't notice.

“Yeah, coffee. Or an ice cream, or…just, anything, really,” he replies, nodding. “I just meant if you wanted to hang out.”

You nod softly. “Well, yeah, it sounds fun,” you reply, smiling.

Logan offers a half grin in return. “Great. We could go into the city and just see where we feel like going,” he says.

You nod. “Yeah, great. So, it's a date.”

His grin widens into a smile. “It's a date.” He nods.

That afternoon, he takes you on his bike to the mall, enjoying the way you hold onto him for life. When you get to the mall and take the helmet off, he grins. Your hair is all messy and you've never looked more beautiful.

“I've got helmet hair, don't I?” you ask, pouting.

He hums gently. “A little,” he responds as he tenderly combs your hair some.

You grumble a bit. “I was all fixed-up and pretty,” you complain.

“You still look as beautiful as ever,” he tells you, studying your face carefully, just taking you in.

A soft blush coats your cheeks and he smiles, tracing your cheekbone with his knuckles softly.

It's almost odd to see Logan be this calm, caring, affectionate. But you're not complaining at all. If anything, you like it. It makes you feel wanted. He makes you feel wanted and safe.

You two walk into the mall together, talking and laughing, and he lets you pick the place. You end up in a cute café, cozy and quiet, sitting close together in a booth in the far corner.

Logan is more open than usual, still somewhat reserved, but he offers you more insight to his thoughts and feelings. He talks and laughs, and you can sense he’s different. Almost as if the weight he always carries on his shoulders is gone. He’s just a man, a happy man on a date with a girl he likes. He’s no longer that tough, hardened, hurt man that’s been hurt by the world to the point of no return.

The conversation flows. It’s natural, easy, and before you know it, it’s been hours of you two sitting in the café and talking. When night falls and it starts getting late, Logan takes you back to the mansion. With most of the mansion asleep, you two walk in quietly and it feels like you’re sneaking back in from somewhere you shouldn’t have been.

It’s not like dating between the X-men is forbidden, just…Logan isn’t the type for that and you understand that.

Logan leads you to his room and locks the door after himself.

She’s beautiful. Just standing there, staring at him with those gorgeous eyes…you’ve got him hooked.

He reaches for you, studying your expression, taking in your scent and the sound of your heart. It’s as if he’s seeing you for the first time. Really seeing you.

You, that puts up with all his bullshit, that stands him and his dumbass, that demands respect, that amazes him, that makes him feel like he’s not a complete monster…

What did he ever do right in his long, fucked-up life that ended with the amazing karmic event of you giving him a chance? What did he ever do to deserve you? He’s not sure, but he’s grateful for whatever good luck has befallen him.

He grabs your hand and gently leads you to his bed, his heart racing.

His heart racing? Is he nervous. Since when is he nervous about sex?

He tries to ignore the thought as he lays you down on the bed. Without a second of hesitance, he kneels in front of you, spreading your legs so he can nuzzle against your thighs. He kisses them softly, one after the other, as he pushes your skirt around your waist. He mouths his way up to your pussy, inhaling her scent through the thin material of your panties. He kisses your mound, his eyes fluttering shut. He just lets himself feel, lets himself do whatever he wants however he wants, focusing on you and wanting to give you everything.

Your breathing grows heavy, your hands move to tangle in his hair. He goes slow, every lick and kiss calculated and measured. There’s no trace of the animal here, no trace of that hunger that seems to take over him more often than not. There’s just…him. It’s just him and you in this moment, together.

He gently tugs your panties off and smiles, glancing up at you. He can see the look in his eyes and he recognizes the affection there. And, for once, it doesn’t scare him, doesn’t send him running off. It makes his heart skip a beat and his stomach flutter.

He eats you out gently, taking his time, just enjoying your taste and the way your body writhes under his mouth.

By the time you’re tugging him away, telling him you can’t take anymore, he’s made you come about three times. Smiling, he undresses and crawls onto the bed on top of you.

This time, there’s no screaming. There’s no headboard slamming into the wall or bed springs squeaking. No crazy positions or choking or spanking.

Logan fucks you slow, deep. His cock reaches every spot in you with a tenderness that takes your breath away.

Every deep thrust is punctuated by a groan from him, his breath hitching as you clench around him. He kisses your neck, mouths at your jaw. His hand caresses your cheek, his eyes on yours as he fucks you.

The gentleness of it, the soft care, the warmth in his gaze…it’s too much.

His fingers touch your clit and rub in soft circles, and it takes nothing to push you over the edge. You tumble, back arching, eyes rolling back. Your nails dig into his shoulder blades, your voice breathy as you whimper into his ear.

“Logan,” you whisper. “Logan.”

And he loses it. You’re not begging for sex. You’re not begging for him to go hard and deep, or for him to relieve you of your stress. You’re begging for more, for the one thing he shouldn’t give you and the one thing he wants to give you.

Your pussy clenches his cock tight as you come and he loses his train of thought. With a shudder and a low moan, he comes in you, spurting his release into your soft cunt. He’d forgotten the condom, but that’s an issue for another day.

He stays where he is, on top of you, and leans his forehead against yours. “Are you okay, bub?” he asks softly, nuzzling his nose with yours.

You nod. “I’m good,” you reply.

He meets your gaze and smiles softly. And, God, the way he’s looking at you…it almost looks as if not only cares about you, but like he could almost, almost…

Love you.

---

a/n: I'm sorry babes!!! I can't believe this took me so long but omg, finals actually kicked my ass and I'm surprised I didn't have a breakdown lol. Buuut, it's finally here. Enjoooooy!!!

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Taglist

@nerrivm @rosiahills22 @d3vils-adv0c8 @thychuvaluswife @18lkpeters @daddy333 @e-nonsense @ch3rryblossms @ayamenimthiriel @thesecretlifeofmo @simming4sims @raideaters-blog @1cam8 @angelicbbsblog @giuliahowlett @lemonsquaredd @meadow-field @secretpandaconnoisseur @givenoutlaw @wunder-blunder @aredheadednerd @fictionalmen-dilflover @insanesociopath @m1cky-y-y @fictional-hooman @ion-even-know @znerac @steviebbboi @insanesosciopath @reidsworld @arrozconpepitoria @meadow-field @sir-thisisadndserver @wolviesgirl @rooroen @tezooks

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Blog masterlist

#logan howlett #logan howlett smut #logan howlett x fem!reader #logan howlett x you #logan smut #logan wolverine #logan howlett x reader #wolverine smut #wolverine #logan howlett angst #james logan howlett #james howlett #logan howlett fic #the wolverine #hugh jackman wolverine #wolverine x reader

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marscardigan · 1 day ago

Text

too good to me

joel miller x reader

not a lot, just forever universe

summary: you woke up sick and joel takes care of you and clem.

warnings: mentions of sickness and throwing up.

You woke up suddenly, eyelids tired. Your throat felt like it was burning, skin and everything. You jumped out of the bed and almost tripped to your way to the bathroom. You were lucky you even had the time to throw up inside the toilet. Hurried steps were heard behind you, and the light from your hall made contrast with Joel’s large body.

When he found you almost passed out on the bathroom floor, with drool on your mouth, he got closer and grabbed your chin tenderly, cleaning you up with some napkin. “Can you hear me, hon?”

“I think I’m sick” you babbled, without breaking his gaze. “I feel like shit”

"Let me carry you back to be-" Your boyfriend couldn’t finish the sentence, because you vomited again. Joel grabbed your hair so you could be more comfortable. Minutes went by, and your urge to throw up disappeared. As Joel promised, he carried your tired body back to your shared bed.

“Do you need somethin’ else?” He whispered into your ear. You got closer to his touch, resting your head in the crook of his neck. “Just you, that’s all”

He smiled at your answer, and after leaving you inside the sheets, he put a warm blanket on top of you. You protested, “Joel, you will be too warm”

“I don’t give two shits about it right now. I only care about you getting better” He responded, getting inside the bed and hugging your back. “You’re too good to me”

A couple of hours later, you woke up with Clementine’s little laughs.

“No, no, baby, come here” Joel was outside the door. “Mommy needs to sleep more”

You smiled, picturing your two-year-old trapped in Joel’s big arms. “You can come in” Your voice sounded weak and dry, but happy somehow. The door opened and hurried tiny footsteps came by your side, jumping on top of the bed. “Morning mommy” Joel came, sitting with your daughter by your side. “You two are going to get sick if you get any closer”

Joel grabbed Clem and put her in his shoulders, and her laughter filled the whole room. “I’m going to take Clem to school, and later I’ll prepare you some soup or something”

You groaned at the thought. “Sounds awesome. Thank you” You said goodbye to your toddler and kissed your partner’s cheek, despite your complaints about you being sick.

The next time you opened your eyes, your head felt less heavy. The smell of soup flooded your nostrils. Joel wasn’t on your sight, and the house was oddly quiet. You finished your soup and walked to the bathroom, just to see it neatly clean. Joel must have cleaned the mess you made last night, you thought.

When Joel came back, he found your sleepy figure sat on the isle of the kitchen. You had tried to complete the shopping list, but your head started to get dizzy again. He laughed, and lifted your body with ease and laid you down to bed again. You woke up just before he could close the door. You called him out softly, your throat dry. He cursed something about waking you up, and he knelt by your side. “Are you better?” He looked worried, almost pouting. It was a beautiful contrast with how he normally looked.

“The soup was amazing, you are amazing. Feel bad you have to do everything today, though”

“Well, don’t be. Maria was delighted to be with Clem for the day. And it wasn’t a big deal, either” You scoffed, “it’s gonna be a big ass deal if I get you sick” Joel shrugged as if it didn’t matter at all. “Ellie asked about you”

Joel swore your eyes brightened with the teen’s name. “What did she say?”

“She bombarded me with questions about how could she help. She actually made - or tried to make - the soup”

“Can’t wait to tell her that was some of the beat soup I’ve ever tried, then” Your boyfriend’s gaze deepened with love, but he hid it and attempted to look offended,“Maybe I did help her a bit”

“You big ol’ softie”

Clementine appeared in your sight, with a colorful drawing. "I draw this for ya" She gave it to you, hiding her face in Joel's chest, a habit she took from you. "So you be good"

You smiled, gasping at the drawing. "It is wonderful, sweets" She then whispered something on Joel's ear, making him laugh. "Clem asks if she can give you a tiny kiss on the cheek"

You frowned, worried about the possibility of passing the fever to your toddler. As if Joel heard your thoughts, he rapidly denied, "she will be fine, she just needs her mum"

"Then I'm happy to help on that" Clementine's sweet lips left a kiss on your hot skin, and as an exchange, you stole her another kiss on her forehead, your daughter laughing at the surprise.

The next morning you woke up tired, but all clear from fever. You extended your arm to Joel’s side, only to find it empty and cold. You looked at the clock: eleven am. With a confused frown, you stood up and searched for your boyfriend, only to find him in the bathroom, grabbing Clementine’s little ponytail. Your daughter was complaining about the mess she was making, but Joel looked as if he couldn't hear her. He looked pale and exhausted, almost as if he hasn’t slept at all. Your head started to think about all the times you kissed them yesterday, even after your warnings.

“Please don’t tell me you two are sick” You said with guilt swimming inside your chest.

Ellie was the one who answered before Joel could, her voice coming from her own bathroom: “we all are!”

You looked at Joel, crossing your arms right beside your chest and lifting your eyebrows. "Told ya"

#joel miller #tlou fanfic #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #joel miller angst #joel miller tlou #pedro pascal #joel miller fluff #joel x reader #joel tlou #joel the last of us #joel miller fanfic

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ao3-rex1223 · 2 days ago

Text

𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐈𝐕

Pairing: DBF!Leon x Fem!Reader

Tags: vaginal sex, creampie, breeding kink, cunnilingus,

Summary: Leon is called away to a mission in Spain before Christmas and you wait anxiously to see if he'll make it home in time.

“I’m going to try my hardest to finish in the next couple days,” Leon reassures you over the phone. He’s been away for two weeks on a mission in Spain since a rogue military faction started snooping around for remnants of Las Plagas. You pace Leon’s living room; ever since you two got together, you spend a lot of time waiting at his place. You tell your parents your ‘house sitting’ since they still don’t know you’re secretly dating him, though sometimes you wonder if your father at least suspects and isn’t saying anything. He never questions what you’re doing anymore. As soon as you say you’re going to Leon’s, he simply smiles and nods, never pressing you for further details.

You flop onto his bed, twirling your hair in your fingers. “Think you’ll be home by Christmas?” you ask, hope rampant in your tone, the holiday only one week away. Your eyes glance around the bedroom you share with him more often than not, lingering on photos of you two placed in simple frames all over. You smile to yourself, feeling the warmth from the happy memories.

“I wanna be there. I’ll do everything I can, baby.”

“I’ll make sure your house is nice and Christmas-y for when you get home,” you promise, already envisioning so many decorations, it’ll be like Christmas threw up all over his house!

I’m sure you will, sweetheart,” Leon replies with a chuckle.

You hear gunshots ringing in the background, causing your heart to race wildly. “Leon!” you choke out, plagued with worry.

“I better go, baby girl,” Leon says suddenly. You can hear rustling, like he’s moving quickly. “Love you.”

“I love you, too, Leon. Please be careful!” you cry, tears pooling in your eyes. The line goes dead and, as always, you never know if it’s because he hung up or something awful happened. You won’t know until he calls again. It could be hours… It could be days. You take a deep breath and sigh, hands trembling as they hold your phone, eyes staring at the screen with Leon’s image and contact information still displayed. “Just come home,” you whisper to that digital picture.

In an effort to distract yourself, you make a trip to the local hobby store to find some decorations for Leon’s house. Your mood lifts slightly as you wander the store, picking out every tantalizing Christmas decoration you see, filling the large shopping cart full before you’re even half way through the store. You glance down at your haul so far; reindeer, Santas, porcelain houses, lights, fake snow, candles, garland, nutcrackers, bows, stockings, ornaments, even a few gnomes dressed in holiday garb. You return your gaze to the aisles ahead…and then…in the distance, you spot an eight foot tall synthetic tree, decked out in colorful LED lights and your eyes shine like a small child padding down the stairs on Christmas morning to see all the presents that good old Saint Nick left for them. Beaming, you rush to the nearest employee and ask - no, beg - them to help you get one of those magnificent trees. The twenty something year old worker clearly suppresses an eye roll - not that you’ll let it get to you - and tells you he’ll ‘check the back’. After a few minutes, he returns and tells you there are no more of the trees you wanted in stock. “The closest we have in stock is a nine-footer,” he explains, his tone detached and apathetic, as though he'd explained the lack of stock a dozen times already today and couldn't muster any more effort.

Unwilling to let this Grinch steal your cheerful attitude, you gleefully exclaim, “Oh! I’ll take the nine-foot one, then!” You practically jump up and down.

“Great,” the worker replies, coldly and turns on his heel, heading back to the stockroom. You bob your head and sing softly along with the Christmas music playing overhead. Finally, the worker returns with a flatbed carrying your beautiful tree.

After struggling to get it into your car, eventually you strap it to the top and carefully drive back to Leon’s place with your massive purchase of holiday decorations. You link your phone to the stereo in his living room and start playing more Christmas music, along with which you are all too happy to sing. You immediately start putting up the nine foot tree. With tender, loving care, you add lights, ornaments, and tinsel. You string more lights along the mantle of his fireplace and garland on the banisters. The small statuettes you bought find places on his coffee table and end tables.

Throughout the afternoon, you’re constantly checking your phone to see if Leon has called or at least texted. Nothing. You know he must be pinned down somewhere. He will always let you know he’s okay when he can. You clasp your hands together in a silent prayer for his safety.

Meanwhile…

Leon forces himself to breathe quietly as militia men scour the decaying laboratory - the one that used to belong to Luis. He stays hidden behind a cabinet, clutching his handcannon in position to fire if needed, but he’s hoping to avoid a direct confrontation, not that it wouldn’t be the first time he’s faced down a hoard of enemies…and it wouldn’t be the first time in this location, either. Flashbacks from that day he came here to rescue Ashley Graham back in 2004 fill his mind. That was long before he met you, before you changed his whole goddamn life. Christ, he misses you. He misses the warmth of your body pressed against his; he misses your smile; he misses your laugh, your kisses, your warm, wet mouth around his-

“Hey! Check over there!” one of the men commands, pulling Leon from his reverie. Fuck, he thinks to himself as he hears heavy boots approaching his hiding spot. He cocks the powerful magnum, ready for a fight. Some big burly motherfucker pokes his ugly head around the corner of Leon’s hiding spot. He growls, bearing his sickly teeth which are quickly blown to pieces by the bullet fired from Leon’s weapon. Shit, can’t catch a break. Guess we’re doin’ this, Leon realizes. He pushes the large man’s limp body away and gets into position, ready to take out anyone else who dares come his way. Nothing, absolutely nothing, will keep him from returning to his girl.

Back at Leon’s place, you decide to bake some cookies, hoping to have a nice treat for him when he gets back, as if you didn’t practically buy out the store’s entire stock of Christmas decorations. You inhale the warm, homey smell of the delicious dessert, soothing your weary heart, which still worries for Leon’s safety. You take a deep, centering breath, reminding yourself to trust in Leon’s abilities.

Two days before Christmas, you finally hear from him. “Hey, baby girl. I'm coming home!”

You shriek with joy, jumping up and down in his living room. You spend the day meticulously cleaning the place, making sure it's perfect.

And on Christmas Eve, near midnight, The door opens, his face marred by fatigue and restless nights, but still handsome as ever. The soft glow of the fireplace illuminates his features in a warm hue. “Baby…” he whispers, his voice barely loud enough to hear. Tears pool in your eyes, your nose tingling as emotion overwhelms you. You rush toward him and throw yourself into his embrace.

Just like that, with the love of his life in his arms again, Leon feels whole once more. He crushes you against him, soaking in your warmth, soothing his aching soul. He buries his face in your neck, taking in your unique scent. It reminds him why he fights, why he continues to battle the evils of the world, because, as bad as things are, if he can make it a little better for you, it’s worth the pain and effort. For a while, you simply hold each other, the crackling of the fireplace and the quiet whispers of the cold winds outside the only soundtrack for your heartfelt reunion. When you finally part, he gently cups your face and presses his mouth to yours in a tender and passionate kiss. The softness of your lips is a balm for his wary heart. Your tongues slide together in perfect synchrony, a dance of love and devotion.

You finally break for air, gazing with longing into each other's eyes. “I missed you so much, sweetheart,” Leon coos, his voice cracking slightly from the weight of all his emotions.

“I missed you too, Leon,” you reply, pressing a delicate kiss to his nose.

He smiles, his tense muscles finally relaxing after the long and grueling mission. “Hey,” he begins, his voice smooth like butter again, “got something for you…” He bends down to pick up a box with a bunch of holes in it. You look with curiosity at it, certain you hear it…whimpering? A giant red bow adorns the top. He holds the bottom while you lift the lid. Inside is a small, fluffy white puppy, looking up at you with innocent, golden eyes. It yawns, inadvertently showing off its sharp little teeth. Adorably ferocious, you think to yourself.

“Leon…it’s…” You try to speak, but feel too choked up. Your hands carefully reach in to pick up the helpless ball of fur. Holding it in your arms, it sniffs you cautiously before licking your face, drawing out a genuine, joyful grin from your lips.

“You remember me telling you about that dog that helped me out all those years ago?” Leon asks. After you nod in affirmation, gently scratching your new friend’s furry cheeks, he continues, “I found him again. Had a litter of pups around. This one was the runt; he wouldn’t do well on his own in the wild, so I brought him home. Thought he could keep you company while I’m away. Merry Christmas, baby.”

Tears fall down your face at the thoughtful gift. “Oh Leon! I love him!” you exclaim, kissing him deeply once again, your soft pup nestled between the two of you.

After settling the pup - who you decide to name Buddy - into his new home, you and Leon share a bottle of champagne to celebrate his safe return. You clink your crystal glasses and snuggle together on the couch while Buddy snores softly, fast asleep on the recliner.

Hearts yearning to share the most intimate of connections, Leon lifts you into his arms, bridal style, and carries you to the bedroom, the champagne glasses long since drained of their titular contents. He lays you on the bed with infinite gentleness and crawls over the top of you. He kisses your lips then peppers kisses all along your cheeks and jaw. He pecks a few more just below your ear before whispering, “I love you so much baby. More than anything. I fucking need you.”

You moan softly, cunt getting slippery with your essence, arousal growing, unobstructed. “Leon…I need you, too. I love you!” Tears pool in your eyes again as your feelings for him overwhelm you, yet again.

He hums his approval at your response, hand gently lifting your shirt, grazing your perfect breasts as he removes it entirely. He growls hungrily as his eyes take in the plush mounds. “Missed these two, as well,” he adds with a smirk and kisses both breasts before taking one hardened bud into his mouth.

Your teeth take your lower lip between them, biting gently as pleasure begins to fill you, originating from the gentle nibbles on your tits. You can feel his cock hardening, throbbing against your thigh through his pants. He sucks on the fat of your breasts, definitely intending to leave hickies there. Your hands reach down to tug at his shirt. His mouth releases you for mere seconds, long enough to whip his shirt off and throw it across the room. He continues to kiss his way down your taught stomach. His hands grab the waistband of your sweatpants and panties, pulling them down and off, effortlessly. “My Christmas feast…” Leon growls and pushes your legs apart. His thumbs part your wet folds and he looks hungrily at your glistening, pink sex. He licks his lips before diving in, hot, open mouthed kisses claiming your neglected pussy. Your hips roll in time with his expert licks, angling your clit toward his tongue. He closes his lips around your sensitive bundle of nerves, sucking on it like it’s a rare delicacy. Your abs tighten as your body begins to respond on its own, your back arching hard and your head digging into the bed. Your hands death grip the sheets, nails nearly cutting through the fabric, a mind numbing climax imminent.

“Leon! I’m cumming! Fuck! I’m cumming!” you cry out, the pleasure worth the wait you had to endure while he was gone. Orgasm ripping through you, he pins you in place with his strong arms while he continues to lick you though your waves of euphoria. As you pant, gasping for air, he kicks off his pants and gives his aching dick a few strokes, precum leaking from the tip. He pushes your legs apart again, which practically fall open whenever he looks at them.

“Can’t wait to be inside you again, sweetheart. Not at home until I feel your perfect cunt wrapped around my shaft,” He guides his throbbing cock toward your willing entrance, notching the tip past your eager barrier. He drops onto his hands above you, arms caging you in as he slides further inside, the familiar sensation of his thick length filling your tight channel and kissing the entrance to your womb like a warm embrace, a feeling of completeness. “Fuck…you’re so goddamn tight, baby girl. Never gonna get tired of this,” Leon purrs. His mouth connects with yours once more, pouring all of his pent up love and passion into the heated kiss. With tender thrusts, he begins to move inside you. Your eyes roll back in your head as his cock rubs your g-spot, teasingly slow. You moan and whimper, begging for more with incoherent babbles. “Yeah, baby girl. You want more? Want me to put a baby in you, honey?” His mouth returns to your neck, licking and sucking, his own arousal and need growing beyond his control.

His words make you arch into him even more, the thought of him impregnating you is once again a potent aphrodisiac. “Yes! Please! God, I want it so bad!”

He groans at your impassioned affirmation. He begins snapping his hips forward hard, your tantalizing breasts jiggling with each movement. He withdraws nearly completely out before slamming back inside you again, driven by primal instinct, an innate desire - no, a need - to breed you, to watch your belly swell with his child, to claim you in every way imaginable. He laces your fingers together, pressing them gently into the mattress. His rhythm is frenzied and irregular as he begins chasing his own high. As you cum a second time, you tense, hard, then cry out as your walls collapse on his dick, sucking him in deeper. With a guttural, rough moan, Leon thrusts into you one final time, filling you with his hot, sticky seed. For a long time, he simply remains buried inside you, unwilling to sever the connection just yet. He pulls you with him as he rolls off of you, deciding to keep himself warm inside your delicious heat for the night. “Need you to cockwarm me, baby girl. Been too damn long.”

Your pussy quivers weakly as the last remnants of your orgasm trickle out of you. “Always, Leon. Merry Christmas, baby,” you coo softly, running your fingers tenderly through his hair.

He closes his eyes as you caress his scalp and rub it gently. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” he replies, wrapping his arms tightly around you, pulling you close as he begins drifting off to sleep, comfortable and happy for the first time since he left for the mission to Spain.

#leon kennedy x you #resident evil smut #leon kennedy x reader #12 days of smutmas #leon s kennedy smut

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friedtyrantbasement · 1 day ago

Text

Tough conversations and good distractions

M reader

Cast: Yizhuo, Aeri, Yooyeon (not mentioned often)

Tags: smut, top reader, cheating, angst, marrital issues, drama, multi part series

WC: 3.8k

This felt like a repeat of how your parents argued. Your tie feels tight around your neck, this is what you never wanted to feel at any point in your adult life.

Your marriage was going through a rough patch for a while. Like, a seriously long while.

Yizhuo and yourself had been together for almost a year now, and at the beginning of your marriage you felt like nothing could go wrong. Of course, the honeymoon period didn't last long.

It's not like you try your best to fix it either in all honesty. You work in a fast-paced corporate job and the last thing you need to come home to is your wife asking you incessantly about who you've been conversing with and other questions you feel like you answered a million times.

You don't like to lie but distractions were needed to help keep you in your right mind.

“Baby, for the last time. The only one I have my eyes on is you. I swear it.” You learned to give that speech almost every time she felt insecure. It was getting over used, you might need to paraphrase it soon.

On top of Yizhuo’s knack for insecure behaviour, you have to deal with her family's high expectations. You're the vice president of your older brother's company but that wasn't enough for your in-laws. They wanted you to start your own company, be risky but that just wasn't who you were. You're a laid back guy who enjoys doing his job and one hell of a good one at that and getting paid without making any huge decisions that could affect other people at large.

“God, I just don't understand why you can't talk to me! You act like I'm not here for you when I tell you that you can always talk to me.” You want to roll your eyes at her words. Yizhuo would look impeccable if it weren't for the fact that you thought she had gone deaf in one ear.

“No sweetheart, I said that I simply have nothing to talk about, not that I can't talk with you.” You say gripping the dinner table you're currently leaning back on as your wife sits on the couch away from you. Yizhuo had been pressing you for answers on why you were so quiet these days but you just weren't up for it.

She licks her lips, her tongue sliding over her plump bottom lip and squeezing her eyes tightly as she blinks, as if she was calming herself down.

“I just have been…. Hearing things.” She starts.

“What things, Yizhuo?” You say her name, which makes her shift in her seat. Now she's rubbing her hands as if she's going to hear heartbreaking news.

“I've heard… that you've been seeing another woman. Specifically, that new girl on your work team.” Oh lord. You want to rip your hair out. ‘Is she seriously accusing me of sleeping with a university intern that I haven't even met?’ Your thoughts laugh at the situation, it's hilarious at this point.

The person she should worry about is the one closest to her.

“Oh really? And who told you that? Your little spy Aeri? She barely knows left from right and how many times has she been wrong about shit like this? Huh? Drop it, Yizhuo. I'm serious.”

You were dead serious, tired and not in the mood to be playing bullshit with your wife this early in the morning right before work. “Fine! But I still don't get why you just can't say ‘No honey, I'm not cheating’. Why can't you just say that to me?” Yizhuo says, throwing her hands up in defeat as she gets up to head to your shared bedroom.

A sigh leaves your mouth. This has gotten ridiculous. “You know what? I don't think that no matter what I say or do you're ever going to believe me. That's why, Yizhuo. So I'm going to work now and I would recommend you to drop this nonsense before I get home.”

You don't even let her say something back. You grab your work bag, car keys and you're gone with the wind. Now you're in the worst possible mood ever, sorry to all of your coworkers today.

—

“What's up with the VP today? He's crashing out over a few small mistakes.” One of your coworkers whispered in the break room. “Isn't he married to that fine woman? What issues could he have?” Another one said, edged with slight envy.

“Probably just some troubles in paradise. It's their one year mark soon. Everything goes to shit after that, I would know.” A supervisor says, his voice quieting with the last part of his dialogue. As if it was scripted, the workers collectively release a sigh, remembering the way they used to formerly be with their partners.

Of course, there was always someone keeping an ear out for a good conversation—minus the collective sigh at the end—especially when it has to do with someone she's been keeping an eye out for.

You are half near losing your mind. The argument from this morning and now your team was making numerous mistakes regardless of how small they were. ‘Fuck, I need to smoke’ You think getting out of your chair that you'd been glued to for the past four hours. Besides, the air and the person waiting for you will clear your head.

You press the elevator button a few times and that small action makes you wonder just when you have become such an impatient person. You used to love a good wait time especially when you were about to do something you had promised yourself you would never do again. Fortunately, the elevator opens, inviting you to enter it and whisk yourself away from the stress of your life.

“Hold it, please!” You hear a feminine voice call out, her heels making a light jog towards the elevator which you hold your arm out, keeping it open. “Thank you so much. I wasn't ready to wait another 10 minutes for the elevators.” The black haired girl breathes out and you chuckle nodding your head at her.

“I hear it. I still can't believe they only have two elevators for a fifteen floor building.” You say, getting a better look at the woman who's in a neat pencil skirt and a button up shirt. “What's your name? Haven't seen you before.” You mention extending your hand to the woman.

She takes your hand shaking it. “The names Yooyeon. Don't bother introducing yourself, I think we'll end up seeing each other more often.” Just then the elevator opens cueing her leave. Yooyeon waves as she steps off the elevator. You watch her walk away. Your eyes are unnecessarily narrowing down on her ass as the elevator closes.

You breathe out a sigh, it has been a while since you had an easy going conversation with someone. You think for a split second just as you enter the rooftop. “Well well well, look who we have here.” You hear a sensual voice purr.

“Oh my, is that my wife's makeshift CIA investigator? Goodness, what do I owe the pleasure, Aeri.” You say sarcastically walking beside the woman, pulling out a cigarette to which Aeri lights it up for you. The woman dangerously close, you can smell her Chanel perfume as her eyelashes bat at you.

“Oh dear, have I ruffled your feathers on such a pleasant morning, sir?” She says, coyly placing her hand on the lapel of your suit. You remove her hand and breathe out your smoke onto her face. “Do you find yourself happy confusing my wife?” She fans the smoke away from her and smiles at you, if it were anyone else they would have misunderstood her smile as a genuine one.

“I enjoy it just as much as you like filling me up.” Her words make you clench your jaw. Your hand that does not have a cigarette lodged between two fingers grips her face. “Watch that mouth. You're much more careless than I thought.” Aeri only grips your blazer and throws your hand away from her face.

You breathe in smoke again, holding it in and then you blow it out. You know what's going to happen after this. You know you can't trust yourself with this woman, and she knows that just as well as you do. So you step out your cigarette and press your lips against hers. Aeri meets you with fervor and passion.

“You know you can't get enough.” She whispers haughtily, confident in herself. Unfortunately, you know she's right and so you burst out laughing to her confusion. Aeri almost gets the chance to ask you what's wrong with you but you kiss her again. Your tongue running over her lips, sucking on her bottom lip, and just like that Aeri feels like she's the only one in the world. Pressing chaste kisses all over her lips and then you slide your tongue into her mouth. You hear her release a moan, a pretty one at that. It rings in your ear, letting you grip the back of her neck pushing her as close as you possibly could.

It's an addiction, one that feels so good, one that you doubt you could stop. So you don't. You're driving Aeri to one of her father's numerous hotels to check in to so you can take your fingers out of her cunt and stick something else in.

“Fuck- drive faster, you piece of shit.” The name calling makes you scoff. “Didn't I tell you to watch your fucking mouth earlier?” You curl the pads of your fingers to hit her spot. Aeri's back arches, the back of her hand falling lightly over her mouth as she tears up. Finally, you achieve your desired silence minus the moans and ‘Fuck’ and ‘Mm right there’ ‘s coming from Aeri's mouth.

Unfortunately, you reach your destination all too quickly. You slide your fingers out of her sopping folds and she shoots you a glare but nevertheless gets out of the car, walking a few paces ahead of you. The receptionist is used to the two of you and your monthly rendezvous with the Chairman's daughter.

“Don't take so long, you know what we're here for and I’d rather not spend more time with you than I'd like to.” Aeri says, as you zip her black short dress down. You roll your eyes and push her onto the bed without much regard for her. You throw off your blazer and pull your tie off only to unbutton the first button. You crawl closer to her, you bury your face into her neck, pressing a hot kiss against her pale skin.

By the time you're done making love with her neck, your belt has been unbuckled and your pants are off. Aeri's fingers pull the waistband of your boxers down with some help of yourself. “Come on, put it in.” She whines into your ear, you aim your length at her entrance but don't do as the vixen wants.

“So fucking whiny for it, why don't you beg? Act a little cute for me, won't you? It's been so hard calming my wife down because of your evil whispers.” Aeri stiffens at the mention of Yizhuo. You can see her eyes flicker, you wonder if that's if she feels bad or if she doesn't like how much you're talking.

But the thought of reality doesn't last long before you feel Aeri press her dainty and magically gorgeous hand on your chest pushing you down onto your back. Aeri unbuttons the rest of your blouse at a torturously slow speed, which you would never admit turned you on a bit. She presses hot kisses down your torso starting at your jaw, so near to your lips and further down she went.

As a natural occurrence would have it she landed just where your lower stomach is. Her tongue flat against your stomach, giving it small kisses and kitten licks. You just wish she'd go a bit lower so you hold a hand to the back of her head and try to escort her way to your hard, pre cum leaking cock.

“You want me to suck on him? Act a little cute for me, won't you?” Referring to your cock as ‘him’ and the sarcastic repetition of your words. The two of you lock eyes for a moment before you feel the need to kiss her again. So you do as you desire but not before you get what you want.

You wrap a hand around your cock and push it closer to her lips. Aeri looks up at you and you tilt your head slightly with a pout on your lips, as your back rests against her head board. She gives in to your little show and wraps her lips around your tip, her tongue makes small circles around the head before letting more of your length slide into her mouth. You suck in a deep breath as you feel Aeri apply suction.

Your hand naturally returns to the back of her neck politely urging her to take more of your shaft. Aeri knows the desperation that you're displaying and she enjoys it but more than anything she enjoys seeing you crumble, that mask of being the all responsible, perfect family man and vice president just falls off under her touch.

Though this is something that she knows will never last forever, she gives in taking you into the back of her throat. She takes your cock whole, letting it hit the back of her throat and she lets her mouth head back to the tip. Aeri repeats this over and over. No regard for the way she’ll probably gag at having you so deep.

As if she wants to consume you whole, monopolise you, own you, the greed that she feels is most likely consuming herself but she delusions herself into thinking that she is not affected by the way your eyes are stuck onto hers.

Aeri can feel your hips twitch, as if you’re warning her unconsciously of your orgasm. Her tongue slides over your member, carefully paying attention to it in the most romantic way possible. The poised woman removes your cock from her warm mouth allowing your white hot to land on her face in untimed spurts. Your hand grabs some tissues on the bedside table of the bed to pass to your accomplice. To which she takes and carefully dabs her face, erasing any residue left.

Now you think for a moment, ‘She looks pretty.’ but you don't allow yourself to think any further, after all Aeri would tie a noose around your neck if she knew you had such thoughts, soft thoughts. You lay the woman down on her back, the rest of work would be on your part so you slide on a condom looking down at the woman under you.

“A man with no arms could move faster than you, don’t waste my time.” Aeri spits at you and you scoff at her words, lowering yourself and pressing your cock head against her wet entrance. Her back arches and her arms wrap around your neck as your cock enters her, filling every space in her cunt.

“Fuck, it’s been so long.” You groan as you bury your head into the crook of her neck, your hand slides under the back of her thigh caressing her softly as you fuck her. Aeri’s small swears and loud moans fill the hotel room along with your groans. Your hips rock back into her pelvis, and you can feel Aeri's small movements in an attempt to match your thrusts. You're stretching her out in ways she could never imagine. The tightness of her sopping pussy has you groaning out in awe.

Your eyes are stuck on the way Aeri's breasts move every time you fuck her. You throw her legs over your shoulders and get as close as humanly possible, your face perched between the woman's perfect boobs. Your mouth latches onto one of her nipples, sucking it, licking it, and giving it all your attention and focus. Aeri yelps and mewls, her luxurious sounds of pleasure leaking out of her pretty lips only encourages you to continue working her breasts. But you never forget to hit the deepest part of her pussy, you find yourself unable to stop giving the most concentrated strokes known to mankind.

“Go- god, keep going, you- fuck so perfect for me.” Aeri says as her hands manage to touch your face and bring you to focus on her face, that's contorted in the ecstasy that you bring her. Both of your lips find one another with some struggle of space, yet your tongue slides into her perfectly curated mouth and you spend time working her mouth. “You're the one who's so fucking perfect.” You praise her and you can tell she enjoys the words of affirmation after all, her cunt is tightening around you.

As if you would die if you did not seek pleasure from Aeri you continue to chase your high. Despite hers being long reached, Aeri can only let out gasps and whines asking you to give her a break. “I'll give you a break when you deserve one. I haven't even cum yet.” Your hips jerk again into her and her head falls back. The sounds of her moaning are rivaled by the sounds of your balls slapping harshly against her skin, additionally the wet sounds coming from her pussy. “You're acting like you don't enjoy this, you hear that? Those sounds are all yours. Don't get so fucking arrogant, you whore.” you spit out cruelly, and she responds with a sobbed out apology.

A small smile paints your lips, the feeling of pride swelling in your chest. Who else but you could bring the Chairman's daughter down a notch other than you? If the world was your oyster this is what you would be doing for the rest of your life. “That's what I thought. Don't forget your fucking place. And tell me where your place is?” You egg her on, you know Aeri knows the answer to this question. Her eyes look away from yours and she can only bite her lip. So you stop thrusting for a moment, which causes a whiny mewl to leave Aeri's lips.

“My place is..” she takes her time pronouncing the words. It only increases your satisfaction of watching the proud woman suddenly melt into a girl who only has her eyes on you. “...below you.” A smile slaps onto your face, your hand lands on her hair, caressing her so softly. You know she's waiting for her reward and it's your job to give her what she wants.

You bottom out in Aeri's cunt, filling her up, a cuss falls out of her mouth. Your hand goes under her thighs and pushes her knees beside her head. Your fucking her rough and murderously fast, she's practically screaming. Your cock is hitting a perfect spot, your teeth are gritting together. “This is what good girls get when they act good.” You say, your voice low and deep as Aeri reaches yet another earth shattering orgasm. Yours is on the way soon, with the way your balls are tightening. You slide out of her, you take off your condom, then you push yourself back in.

“No- wait, you can't. That's too-” Your hand falls over your mouth. “Shut the fuck up, I'm not cumming inside of you, dumb whore. I'm just feeling your insides a bit.” And to your expectations, it felt so good, you should've done this from the start. You're orgasming soon though so you slide out your cock again and let yourself finish on her tits and face.

Both of you are panting, completely out of breath. “What's with you today?” Aeri says, obviously annoyed with you, but you couldn't bother to care. “My wife and I have an interview to get to. I'll shower first.” You ignore her question and take a quick peek at your watch that is currently the only piece of clothing you have along with your ring. “Well, since you didn't read the list of interviewees. My father and I are also getting interviewed. We have no time.” You know what Aeri means and you smile.

She rolls her eyes and grabs you by the elbow and leads you to the washroom. Suddenly you feel like you have an extra 20 minutes to spare. So long as you get another blow from her. “Let's get each other clean, Uchinaga.”

—

“Do you know how much we're running late?!” You hear Yizhuo say from the second floor of your mansion. “Honey, we're fine. It's a 25 minute drive.” You were thankful that your limo at least had champagne in there to keep you company as your wife freaks out over the time.

Your eyes catch Yizhuo peeking down at you from the ledge of the stairs. Her face coloured in seriousness with her full lips pursed into an unhappy one. You lock eye contact with her and pull out one of your award winning smiles, the one that you'd use during the interview.

“Get off your phone, and tell the chauffeur to pull around.” Yizhuo's voice is elegant and perfect, and you know she means it. “Now, please.” Though it doesn't sound like Yizhuo is asking, rather she's demanding, and of course you comply. You go outside to see your chauffeur, an older gentleman with grey hair and a heartwarming aura.

“Pull around the limo, the one with alcohol. Thank you, Greg.” He nods at your words with a polite smile on his face, and he's off to get the car. You turn around to go grab your blazer and Yizhuo's fur coat off the couch.

“Sweetheart, thank you for getting my coat. You're perfect.” Yizhuo says, pressing a soft kiss against your cheek as you open the door outside for her. “Anything for you, my beloved.” You say, holding the coat open for her to slip on easily, which she does. You throw on your black coat easily. Yizhuo's coat is black fur, befitting of her white cocktail dress.

“You look gorgeous, I'm almost hurt that someone else will see you looking this good.” You compliment, earning a smile and an elegant giggle from your wife. “And all of this will be yours when we get home. As long as you're on your best behaviour.” She says coyly, and you could practically feel your cock hardening under your pants.

You couldn't wait to get this over with, get home and collect your prize. Whether you would live up to deserve it… well we'll find out.

#ning yizhuo #ningning #ningning x reader #giselle x reader #giselle #aeri uchinaga #aespa #aespa x reader #M reader

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faynthearted · 23 hours ago

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a/n: a drabble for @beautifulboysbeingbusy, who requested tianshan talking about loved ones they've lost during the holidays, and @faery-moss, who requested morning cuddles and tianshan's first Christmas together. enjoy! <3

----

When he was younger, Guan Shan never slept on Christmas Eve. He’d try, but the excitement, the anticipation, would fuel him the entire week leading up to Christmas. He’d lay in bed until the first rays of sunlight fell into his bedroom, then he’d race to wake up his parents. They always woke with a smile as he climbed into their bed.

Now, He Tian smiles as he lies in Guan Shan’s bed.

“Merry Christmas,” he murmurs against Guan Shan’s lips when he wakes, still sleep heavy. “I think your mom is already up. I heard the sink running.”

“Yeah,” Guan Shan mumbles, wrapping around him. He’s warm and too big for a twin sized mattress. Guan Shan has never complained about it. “She likes to make breakfast right away on holidays."

“It smells sweet.”

“It’s stuffed french toast. Fresh fruit on top. Since you’re here, she’ll probably pull out all the stops and make muffins, too.”

He Tian hums, pleased. “I must admit I feel awfully special whenever I come over,” he says. “I should’ve brought her another gift.”

“God, no,” Guan Shan tells him, because he already helped He Tian wrap two presents for her the other day: a gold necklace and a scarf. They're sitting under the small tree in the living room. Anything more and she would begin to ask Guan Shan more questions than she already does. Guan Shan is beginning to run out of ways to tell her that yes, He Tian is a very good friend, and no, Guan Shan doesn’t know what his parents do for work.

He Tian huffs a laugh. He’s in good spirits already, eyes bright and hands warm as he shifts their weight, settling on top of Guan Shan.

Guan Shan lets him kiss him, but a few moments in, He Tian pulls back.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

Guan Shan shakes his head but doesn’t say anything. He Tian’s touch lingers on his side. Waiting.

Eventually, Guan Shan breathes out. There's an awful dread building in his throat. He says, “Tell my mom that breakfast was good after we’re done eating. Even if it wasn't, tell her it was."

“Of course I will,” He Tian says and Guan Shan doesn't doubt it. “I’m sure it will be good. I’ve had her cooking before. Is she— is it usually not good?”

Bringing up his hands, Guan Shan presses them into his eyes. “No,” he mumbles, “it’s good. But just tell her that it is anyway, okay? Don't make a big deal out of it, but make a point of it at least."

“Okay.” After a moment, He Tian’s fingers wrap around his, pulling them down. “What’s wrong, ah-Shan? What’s this about?”

Guan Shan swallows. He’s had an awful pit in his stomach since yesterday, though he’d done a well enough job of hiding it. Or maybe he hadn’t. Maybe He Tian saw right through it the entire time. Maybe that’s why he’s looking at him like this.

He Tian's smile is gone now and Guan Shan feels stupidly selfish.

“My dad used to be in charge of Christmas breakfast," Guan Shan says, looking away. "He always made the same thing. The french toast. Breakfast was the first thing we'd do once we all woke up. And it— it’s fucking impossible not to be reminded of that every year. It ruins everything for me. My mom got the recipe from him and she’s always done a good job since he’s been gone, but…”

He doesn’t know how to put it into words. If he was a better person, he’d be able to say that the breakfasts are now a tribute to his father. That they're a piece of him that Guan Shan and his mother get to honor and carry with them, but it's always felt more like a gaping wound that never closed. When it’s just him and his mom sharing breakfast each year, they make light of the situation, but there’s always an inevitable lapse of silence that’s impossible to ignore.

Today will be the first time in nine years that there’s a third person at the table. Guan Shan wants He Tian here — he asked him to be here — but he doesn’t want to endure the suffocation of another holiday. He doesn’t want He Tian to see the evidence of Guan Shan’s broken origins, laid out on a tablecloth with ceramic plates and silverware.

It’s Christmas. They’re supposed to be grateful; happy. Bright and in good spirits, like He Tian.

After a minute, He Tian brings Guan Shan’s fingers to his lips.

“I didn’t want to tell you this,” He Tian starts, speaking against his skin, “because I didn’t want to… ruin the day, or make it about me. But I understand, Guan Shan. The impossibility, I mean. I got your mom the scarf because you said she’d like that color, but I got her the necklace because that’s what my mom asked for every year. A gold necklace. My brother would either get her matching earrings or a charm to add onto it and we’d wrap them in the same box. She loved it, but she died a couple weeks before Christmas one year. I was never able to give her that last necklace.”

He turns Guan Shan’s hand over, pressing a kiss to his palm. There's a pause, his eyes gone distant. Eventually, he lowers Guan Shan's hand.

“Christmas fucking sucks, sweetheart,” He Tian continues, offering a small, closed-lip smile. “I hate it. It's ruined for me, too. But that’s because I usually wake up alone, and I’m not expecting a nice breakfast, and I don’t have a mother to give a necklace. It’s different this year even if it’s not exactly what I had as a kid. It won’t get easier, but it can get better. You’re showing me that. I want to do the same for you.”

They hold each other's gaze. A pot clangs in the kitchen, muffled through the walls. Guan Shan thinks he can hear his mother humming a holiday song. It makes his eyes sting.

He pulls He Tian back down to him, and they lay in bed as the smell of blueberry muffins wafts under his bedroom door.

#19 days #tianshan #my writing #my adult apathy towards the holidays really shows in this. i miss being a kid.

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baronessblixen · 14 hours ago

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Asking For Miracles

Merry Christmas, @katebeckets! I'm your PoangPal Secret Santa, and as I am mostly a writer, you're getting a fic 😁 You said you were enraged that we didn't get to see Mulder and Scully reunite at the end of "Redux II" (same, btw). So I wrote a scene where Scully tells him that she's in remission. It's angsty - but of course, it has a happy end. I hope you like it!

(Here's the AO3 Link)

@poangsecretsanta @today-in-fic

“Mulder, I know it’s late, but I- I need to see you.”

The words Scully left on his answering machine still ring in his ears, even half an hour after he first heard them. By the time Mulder arrives at the hospital, his legs are like lead and feel as if he’s just finished a marathon. Every step he takes is pure agony; if only he could turn around and run. That, of course, is not an option. Not when Scully asked for him.

Mulder enters the hospital lobby, the place as familiar as his own home by now. He nods at Jeff, the doorman, and he nods back at him. Maybe he recognizes Mulder, or he has compassion for every sad soul that passes by.

He stops in front of the elevator, his fingers fidgeting with the lapels of his jacket. An elderly woman standing next to him eyes him wearily when he presses the elevator button twice more. He’s grateful she’s not making conversation as they step inside. His thoughts are loud, screaming at him. They have been ever since Scully’s phone call - another one he missed. The sound of her suppressed tears is too familiar; it already haunts his nightmares.

It’s late. The hospital is deserted – save for the elderly woman, who’s clinging to her purse, staying with him on the elevator until they reach the oncology ward. They share a silent look, pain evident in their movements as they set out in opposite directions.

A phone call late at night is never good news. Scully must have called him just after 9 p.m. He grabbed his jacket as soon as he heard it, not even caring if it – or he – smelled bad. Scully is all that matters.

Yet, now that he’s here, he slows down. The closer he gets to her room, the smaller and heavier his steps become. As long as he’s out here, and as long as he hasn’t looked into her eyes, and heard what she has to say, he can pretend. He can pretend the disease isn’t taking her life, cutting it way too short.

He passes room after room, getting closer to the truth. For once, Mulder doesn’t want it. He wants the miracle, the fantasy. From somewhere he hears music. Or maybe that’s just his imagination. It’s an older song, melancholic. A woman singing about wishing she had a river she could skate away on. Mulder thinks it’s a Christmas song. Who plays Christmas music in the middle of the year? He considers telling Scully about it, hoping it will make her smile.

It’s no surprise that he hates hospitals. He’s hated them long before Scully got sick, but not always. The first time he remembers being in one was when he was a toddler, just about three years old. On his first visit, he was apprehensive. He knew the concept of hospitals from books; big, white rooms with doctors looking like angels, sometimes healing, sometimes taking people to heaven. That’s how his grandmother Mulder had described it to him when he’d asked.

The angels, his grandmother had explained, too, had taken good care of his mother and his sister. As a new big brother, he had to know these things. It was his time to be brave. Just like now, he thinks, as his shoes squeak against the linoleum. Back then, his much smaller feet had shuffled along, trying to keep up with his father, who was holding his hand in his large, steady grip. Before that day, Mulder can’t remember his father ever holding his hand.

The room Mulder remembers is filled with a sunny warmth, despite it being November. What are the chances of it having been a sunny day? But that’s how he remembers it. Just like he remembers the soft smile on his mother’s face and the way he had to stand on tiptoe to see Samantha and her squishy face. Seeing her cemented his fate; he was a big brother and he would look after her forever. Only that forever had been taken away from them. Much like last night when he lost her again. No matter what he does, he keeps losing.

The memory ends there. In the following years, hospital walls became tainted. There was blood and screaming. Samantha broke her collarbone and Mulder broke his arm. His grandmother died; the angels she’d believed in taking her away. The memories are strung together like a pearl necklace in his mind; one painful memory after another. An endless circle. Now, there is another memory to add.

He stops in front of Scully’s hospital room. All is quiet. The music has stopped. His heart, however, hasn’t. It’s thumping steadily, loudly. So loud in fact that he wonders if Scully can hear it through the closed door. He closes his eyes and knocks.

“Come in,” Scully’s muffled voice says and so, finally, he does. His eyes find hers the second he steps inside. Her face is puffy - puffier than he’s seen it in weeks. The hollowness for once hidden. How many tears has she cried without him here? She throws him a small, shaky smile. A laugh falls from her lips that sounds more like a hiccup.

“I came as quickly as I could,” Mulder says, flinching when he realizes that’s a lie. He may have driven to the hospital as fast as he could, but he took his time arriving.

“I thought you should hear it first,” she says, sniffing. She grabs a tissue out of a half-empty box and blows her nose. “This is ridiculous,” she adds, avoiding his eyes. “I just- I called you first when I- and you… you were the first person I wanted to call when I found out.”

Blood rushes in his ears, his temples throb; this is the last moment before he knows. Once she says it - once the words are out there - they can’t be taken back. It will be real.

“They did more tests. I- the last PET scan showed no improvement and I-,” she trails off and Mulder’s knees buckle. No improvement. There’s no cure for this cancer, just like Scully said months ago when she asked him to come to the hospital for the first time. No cure, no improvement. There’s only one way this can end. He wants to cover his ears; it can’t be true if he doesn’t hear it, or see it.

“I wasn’t ready to accept that,” she goes on, her voice steady. She glances at him as if waiting for him to say something. It’s not like him to remain quiet, but what is there to say? He wants to get on his knees and pray to a God he doesn’t believe in. “So I asked for more tests. When you’re dying, doctors will do whatever you ask of them.”

“I’ll make sure to remember that,” Mulder mumbles and Scully cracks a smile.

“We did another PET scan, among other things, and Mulder- I don’t know why is this so difficult to say.” Another hollow laugh from her and he can no longer keep his hurt in. It expels from his mouth as his lips begin to quiver. Scully’s eyes open wide.

“Oh, Mulder,” she says, reaching out her hand and he’s too weak to deny her, to deny himself. Her skin is as soft as ever, her touch as assuring as it’s always been. He’s crying openly now, weeping. The tears are blurring his vision, but he sees what’s important: her in the hospital bed, smiling up at him.

“You shouldn’t have to comfort me,” he says with a sob, trying to compose himself. He thinks of his father, of the way he watched him dismissively the night his grandmother died. When Mulder, at ten years old, had wiped his tears away with the sleeve of this sweater, he had asked his father why he wasn’t crying. Wasn’t he sad? His father hadn’t replied and only stared at him before he’d wandered off.

“I don’t know what I was thinking, Mulder,” she says, tugging at his hand. “Sit down.” When he doesn’t, she tugs more strongly. “Sit. Please.” He does, his hands folded in his lap as if waiting to start a prayer.

“It’s not what you’re thinking,” she says softly.

“You’re a mind reader now?”

“I don’t have to be. I should have started with the most important news,” she says, waiting. He knows she wants him to look at her. He braces himself before he lifts his eyes to hers. Hers are brimming with tears, just like his own.

“My cancer has gone into remission.”

Mulder stares at her, not understanding. These are the words he wants to hear. Remission. Cured. Yet, he can’t believe them.

“You believe everything but not this?” she teases, her voice shaky.

“You’re- and the cancer? It’s- it’s.” He doesn’t know what to say. How do you describe a miracle? It just is.

“Like I’ve been trying to say, I couldn’t accept that there was no improvement. My mother… my mother and I prayed together and then I knew I couldn’t give up. I asked for another PET scan and more blood tests. Mulder, I don’t know what… something changed. Whatever it is, whether it’s the chip or, or-”

“You’re in remission,” he repeats, his brain finally catching up. She nods.

“I’m in remission. The PET scan shows great improvement. The tumor is shrinking.”

“I can’t- it’s shrinking? You’ll be fine?” He reaches for her other hand, needing to feel her. Again, she nods, smiling.

“I’ll be fine,” she whispers. Mulder stares at her, watches her, and sees his whole future. Their future. Together. His lips quiver again, but this time from joy. Scully nods, understanding him without a single word spoken.

“Come here,” he says, desperate. He lets go of her hands and engulfs her in his arms. Their positions on the bed are awkward, but they make it work. His heart thumps against her chest, and he feels hers, too. He doesn’t care if it was the chip or a miracle. For once, he doesn’t care about uncovering a secret truth. He just wants to hold her in his arms and have her by his side for as long as she wants to be.

“Will you stay?” she asks into his neck. Her lips are warm and wet and her touch brings him back into the here and now.

“I’ll stay,” he says. He’ll stay as long as she will endure him in her hospital room.

“I need to call my family,” she whispers and he loosens his grip on her. Her face is as wet as his own feels and he wipes at her eyes with his thumb. Her blue eyes are almost translucent and he’s in fear of losing himself in them. Instead, he finds himself nodding along, reaching for the cell phone on her bedside table and handing it to her.

“Tell them right away,” Mulder says. “Say you have good news.” He smiles sheepishly. She doesn’t need to know about what he’s gone through in between her call and her breaking the news to him. Still, he’d like Mrs. Scully and Bill Jr. to know what they’re in for so they won’t have to worry anymore. There’s been too much heartbreak already. Scully nods at him, new tears falling from her eyes.

“It’s a Christmas miracle,” Mulder muses and Scully’s eyebrows knit together.

“It’s not Christmas,” she says with a chuckle and he takes her hand into his, entwining their fingers. She lets him. He marvels at their laced hands, remembering the song from earlier. He hopes the woman found a river to skate away on. He hopes she found her happiness somewhere along the way. Or maybe what she was looking for was right in front of her eyes the whole time. He knows what’s that like.

Mulder lifts his head and grins at her, falling deeper in love with her, allowing himself the full force of his emotions for once. The skepticism in her expression lets him know that she’s about to call him crazy. Or she would if this weren’t the exact moment her mother picks up the phone.

“Mom?” she says, trying to keep the tears out of her voice. Mulder squeezes her fingers to remind her he’s here with her. “I have something to tell you-…,” Scully goes on and looks at Mulder. There are so many things unspoken between them, and so many possibilities now for their future.

“It’s good news.”

#poangpresents2024 #poangpals #msr #xf fanfic #my writing #my fic

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sosaysdean · 12 hours ago

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Frank Ieros segment in the recent First Ever Podcast episode.

Transcript under cut

Jeremy: Alright i’m so lucky to be joined by Mr. Frank Iero of LS Dunes and My Chemical Romance. How are you Frank? It’s so nice to see you

Frank: I’m doing good. It’s so nice of you to say that you’re lucky to do this (laughs)

Jeremy: (laughs) I am lucky to do this I am, I am.

Frank: I felt lucky to receive your text.

Jeremy: Aw that’s very. That’s very sweet. Uh, how are you feeling today? You doing alright? You uh, you ready for the holidays?

Frank: I got my tissues out, I’m fucking dealing with some sort of cold that I can’t pin point. So par for the course you know.

Jeremy: You know what’s..I feel like everybody right now. Everybody I know right now has some form of the sniffles, but let’s look at the positive because we’re a few days away still from actual holidays so, hopefully it’s passed through your system by, by the time right

Frank: That’s what I’m hoping for. That is what I’m hoping for (laughs). I’m hoping, yeah, that Santa brings me a fucking cure. How’s that? (Laughs)

Jeremy: (Laughs) um, okay. Well. Your question that I’m gonna ask you my friend is, when is the official first day of the christmas season? This is a contested thing.

Frank: Yeah

Jeremy: So I’m curious for you. What for you is the first day?

Frank: I don’t know exactly, but I do know it’s not Halloween, which they keep fucking pushing on us (laughs). And it’s not the day after Halloween either like fuck that like. First off, I think the first thing I have to say is I don’t actually like Christmas. (Laughs) so.

Jeremy: That’s okay

Frank: So I would like it to be, you know, I think the first day of Christmas should be Christmas Eve, and then Christmas, and then that’s it. And then fucking get out of here with it. (Laughs) So maybe that’s an unpopular opinion but, but that’s the way I feel. You, you get those two days, and then shut the fuck up. I don’t wanna hear Christmas music everywhere I go for fucking six months like I’m not, I don’t wanna hear that shit. I don’t want everything to smell like some sort of Christmas spice. I don’t fucking want eggnog. I don’t want. I don’t want, what’s the other shit that you, nutmeg in everything. I don’t want any of that.

Jeremy: (laughs) Um okay do you feel similarly about the Thanksgiving season, like are you, do you feel the same way about pumpkin spice?

Frank: Fuck that no no. Pumpkin’s great.

Jeremy: (Laughs) okay okay okay so what’s, is there a root to when this happened, like was there a specific thing that set off the christmas, the, the, the grinch in you?

Frank: (laughs) I think it’s encroachment man. I think it’s just fucking been an encroachment I think is what’s happening. Uh I feel like they’re trynna push us out and I’m not having it.

Jeremy: I, I um, I, the punk side of me I fundamentally agree with how it feels like the capitalism is the, is at the forefront of the motivation that you’re talking about. It’s like when you walk into a, you walk into a rite-aid and you’re like yo it’s October 20th why are you playing this goddamn Paul McCartney song

Frank: Oh my god. Dude. (Laughs). And that’s the thing too it’s. Alright. Listen I’m not trynna say like I’m not like you know, crass incarnate here like. But like, I really do enjoy Thanksgiving because it’s about you know you’re getting together with people that you care about, you’re sharing a meal and stuff like that. You know, if you’re not a turkey like it’s a pretty good fucking day. You know

Jeremy: (Laughs)

Frank: I don’t understand why like, oh yeah we have to get somebody a gift for fucking, I don’t know, like, Labor Day. Like fuck out of here with that like. You know what I mean. I don’t understand. I really don’t.

Jeremy: I thoroughly appreciate the honesty and I appreciate your uh, your very um, mature take.

Frank: (laughs)

Jeremy: On the first day of, on the first day of Christmas, or uh, Christmas season. And I agree with you. I absolutely agree with you

Frank: Alright I appreciate it. You’re the first one to ever call me mature so thank you very much (laughs). That’s great

#christmas hater he’s so.

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sturniololuv08 · 3 days ago

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On The Tenth Day Of Nickmas...

Day 10 of Juno's 12 Days Of Nickmas

"Hey, Nick." Matt came around the corner into the kitchen. Nick just cocked his head up. "I didn't hear Jared leave last night." He said, opening the fridge.

"He didn't," Nick said, suspicious of Matt's statement.

"Oh?" He raised a brow.

"Yeah?" Nick sipped his drink. After their kiss, they went to sleep, but when they woke up entangled in each other's arms, the heat inside Nick's core started growing again. Jared wrapped around him perfectly. Nick watched Jared sleep for a while before slipping out, careful not to wake him, and coming out to the kitchen.

"Any special plans today, then?" Matt was giving Nick a look he couldn't decipher.

"None that I can think of. Whenever he leaves, I will probably just take today as a day of peace and quiet before I have to deal with everything tomorrow." Nick clapped his hands together when he said the words peace and quiet. Matt giggled at his brother's dramatized answer.

"Afternoon." Jared came around the corner stretching. They still had on their matching pajamas.

"Cute." Matt looked back and forth between them.

"It was all Nick," Jared said, starting the coffee pot.

"Interesting." Matt looked at Nick and sipped his Coke can.

"A gift for Christmas," Nick grunted. He knew what Matt was doing. They shared the talk at the lodge, so he knew Matt was trying to meddle. Little did he know they were already walking that fine line.

"Aren't they cute?" Jared was oblivious to what Matt was trying to do. As coffee streamed down into a cup, refilling the air with the burnt bean aroma, Jared held out the hem of his shirt so Matt could see it.

"Very cute," Matt smirked and made eye contact with Nick again. "Do you have any plans today?" he asked Jared.

"Just gotta go home and tidy up. My sister's flight lands tonight." Jared grabbed the creamer out of the fridge.

"You hear that, Matt?" Nick took this as his chance for a little counterattack.

"Yeah. Why is she flying in?" Matt scratched the back of his neck, becoming flustered.

"I had talked to her a few days ago, and she said she didn't like the idea of me spending Christmas alone, so she booked herself a flight."

"You could spend Christmas here." Nick offered up. "You know we wouldn't mind." He reassured.

"I'll talk to her about it. I'm sure she wouldn't mind."

"Oh, something tells me she won't." Matt glared down Nick for hinting at his fling with Jared's sister. Jared was stirring his coffee, not paying attention to their glances.

"I'm going to go shower." Matt excused himself awkwardly.

"He really likes her doesn't he?" Jared chuckled while blowing on his coffee steam.

"I guess so."

"She'll probably be fine coming over on Christmas, but I do want to just spend time with her tonight if that's okay?" Nick was confused as to why Jared was asking for permission.

"You can do whatever you want. I'm not holding you hostage." Nick wanted to keep the conversation light just in case it became serious.

"Okay." Jared sighed.

"Are you good?" Nick didn't want to outright address anything, but he wanted to make sure what they were doing was okay with Jared.

"Yeah, perfect," Jared blushed. Nick didn't know what to say that wouldn't sound cheesy, so he just smiled back. They finished their late wake-up, and Jared left to run his errands. Nick was cleaning up the kitchen that had been neglected over the holidays when Chris and Matt cornered him.

"We need to talk to you." Nick turned around and grabbed a dish towel to pat dry his hands.

"Okay?" He stared at them with a side-eye.

"We know you like Jared." Matt blurted out.

"I don't like Jared." Nick immediately started blushing.

"You are literally blushing Nick." Chris pointed at his brother's cheeks.

"It's just hot. I was cleaning." Chris folded his arms, and Matt sat down at the kitchen table.

"I saw the car video." Nick hated that it was one of his favourite moments, and Jared was used against his denial.

"It was just a silly video." He rolled his eyes.

"Nick..." Chris groaned. "Just say it. Say you like him!" Chris was being a lot.

"He is my best friend, that's all." Nick felt the words burning his tongue as he lied.

"Nick, it's okay to like him." Matt was trying the comforting approach.

"But I don't." Nick scoffed.

"Nick, just listen to us." Chris held his folded arms.

"What?" He was now irritated. He was already struggling internally about his feelings, and now being forced to confront them when he wasn't ready was annoying and awkward with his brothers.

"We like him. He is good for you. You get along well—" Matt started easily.

"And somehow he puts up with your attitude. We think you should stop this denial shit and go for it." Chris was the bad cop. Nick looked between them, realizing he was being ganged up. He sighed. "Yes! He admits it!" Chris triumphed.

"I'll figure it out. I don't want to talk about it. And if you ever do this good cop bad cop shit again, I'll actually commit murder." Nick pushed past Chris to go up to his room. He flopped on the bed even more stressed about Jared. Now, he had to worry about Chris or Matt saying something stupid; more so Chris than Matt.

Nick smelled him lingering on his bed. It was nice. He laid right in the spot Jared was in last night. He pulled out his phone and opened up the notorious car video. He couldn't resist watching it every chance he got. It wasn't anything special other than the look in Jared's eyes as he looked at Nick's lips. Nick ached for that look. He loved the idea of anyone wanting him like that. Nick started to feel a tingling sensation work its way down his waist. He didn't want to be that weirdo that jacked off to a video of his best friend. "Were we only best friends now?" He thought to himself. He watched the video again and felt the tingling sensation flow down like a wave again.

"Fuck it," Nick whispered to himself. He was upstairs in his room, away from Chris and Matt, so he knew they wouldn't know. He let the video play on a loop and started reminiscing about them changing in the small bathroom for the Space Camp shoot. He wasted no time to slip his hand under his waistband. He was already fully hard to the touch. He hissed quietly as his cold hand grabbed his girth. Immediately, he started pumping up and down hard. He didn't want to take it slow, not now, and not for their first time. Should that ever happen. He fabricated images of Jared's green eyes, glancing up doe-eyed at him as he pushed his way past his lips. "Fuck." He whispered. He made an O shape with his thumb and pointer finger, trying to mimic the sensation he assumed Jared's lips would provide. He needed something more. He rolled over to be on his knees, pumping himself down towards the bed. He nuzzled his face into the pillow Jared had used last night, huffing in his scent. "Mhhhmm." He groaned. He felt a little ridiculous in his new position, but with his new posture, he was able to rock his hips into his own fingers. He started to feel sweat, making his hair matte to his forehead. "Fuck." His whisper was muffled by the pillow. He was close. Closer than he thought he'd be, but something about thinking about his best friend sucking him off was pushing him to his limit faster than anything else had.

He wanted to see Jared when he busted, so he shuffled around, not once, dropping his tight rhythm gripping his throbbing dick. He pulled up a photo of Jared on his phone, and he felt a familiar feeling in the pit of his stomach. The warm body temperature fluid leaked all over his hand. "Mhhhmm... Jared." He moaned out as his cum dripped through his fingers. He tugged on himself a little tighter to make sure every drop of release came out of him. He collapsed on his back, careful to avoid the wet stain on his bed sheets. He looked at his phone and smiled at Jared's face. "Fuck." He whispered, realizing how down bad he indeed was for his best friend.

Taglist: @trevorsgodmother @strnilolover @chrissbug333 @kirby0strombolli @abbilmao @ksturnz @marrykisskilled @thenickgirl (IDK why i was even worried about this chapter.... i actually know i delivered ON ACCIDENT)

Dividers: @issysh3ll (dont think i tagged the last few Nickmas' so I didn't annoy her BUT I'm only using this divider for this themed post so all her every chapter)

#junos 12 days of nickmas #12 days of nickmas #12 days of christmas #nick christmas #nickmas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo christmas #nicolas sturniolo #nicolas antonio sturniolo #nick sturniolo fanfic

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 11 hours ago

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can you please do sleep token x reader spending their first christmas as a couple? 🙏

Vessel

He haven’t had a proper Christmas celebration in a while. Most of the years he would spend it alone. And it was fine by him, he was used to it. So to say that he was slightly dreading the festive season would have been an understatement. He wasn’t used to it. Not sure where to start so when you comment something about his apartment not being festive at all he’s taking a trip the next morning to fix that. The problem is that he doesn’t know what to get.

“Hey, what are you doing up so early”, your voice fills his ears and Vessel instantly lets out a breath of relief. “Hi, baby”, he sighs, “I’m at the home center, and… I’m overwhelmed”, you see him scratching his head, panic clear on his features. “What for?”, you from slowly, sitting up in bed. “You said my apartment wasn’t festive so… I wanted to make it festive”, he shoots you a nervous smile. “Oh, Vess, you don’t have to do it for me”, you smile back at him. “I know… I want to for myself but like… I’ve never decorated before”, he admits. “At all?”, you ask watching him shake his head. “Should have told me… are you at the store down the road?”, you ask as you plop your phone down. “Yeah, one closest to the apartment”, Vessel nods. “I will be there in 20”, you nod along, “You don’t have to, this is stupid”, “Don’t you even, we’re doing this”, you reassure him.

That’s how you two end up strolling down the festive isles hand in hand. “Do you want these?”, you pull at the blinking lights. “Do you think it would look good?”, Vessel asks turning his head to the side. “On your gaming shelves with all the figurines and collector's pieces”, you nod along. “Then let’s get it”, Vessel nods alongside you. “Do I need a tree?”, he asks after a moment. “Do you want a tree?”, you halt to watching him. “I think so…”, “So let’s get you a Christmas tree”, you cup his cheek before leaning in to kiss him.

“Is it bad that I do not wish to see a single soul today?”, you two had a family dinner last night on Christmas Eve and this morning had just rotted in bed. “We do have a friend dinner planned”, you give him a sympathetic smile. “Tell them I have food poisoning or better that someone stashed our car”, he nods firmly. “ii”, you chuckle. “Nah, I had to share you all night last night”, he shakes his head, “it’s our first Christmas, I want alone time”.

“We already made plans baby”, you nuzzle closer to his side. “Yeah, and we are canceling them”, he shrugs, leaning to reach for his phone. “ii, don’t you dare”, you whine, “What they don’t know won’t kill them”, wrapping his arms around you he pressed you down against him so you wouldn’t be able to reach his hand. “ii”, you grunted not able not to laugh. “I think we should just stay in bed and watch all the Harry Potter movies”, he suggested while typing out his no doubt made-up excuse. The worst thing was that you wanted nothing more than to stay in bed with him.

“Movies… ah we can make that loaded mac and cheese balls”, he plopped his phone down, letting his gaze fall back on you. You let out a sigh, “You sure know how to seduce a woman”, you shook your head. “We can make it into a Christmas tradition. Just you and I for the Christmas day”, he hummed, closing his eyes. “Don’t go falling asleep now”, you smacked his chest playfully, “You promised me balls”, “Balls can be delivered fast”, he wiggled his eyebrows scooping you into his arms as he rolled on top of you. “Grow up”, you cackled, squirming beneath his touch as he moved to tickle your side.

iii

He would go all out. Idk why but I just have this feeling. Especially if it’s your first Christmas. I bet you are going on themed dates. Making gingerbread houses together while sipping whine. Decorating ornaments together. Going to Christmas markets. His scarf is wrapped around you because you had complained about the wind once. Now with a hot chocolate in hand, the other intertwined with his and snuggly shoved into his coat pocket you two are slowly making your way around the place.

“Uuu, that’s the cup stand I told you about”, you motion for the stand and iii instantly turns to it. “These I wanted to get for your parents”, you pull your hand out of his pocket making him frown ever so slightly at the lost contact. “They would love it”, he nods, “They do love their tea”, “Yes, and for that, there is another stand just over the corner”, you nod. “Did you plan it all out?”, iii chuckles, reaching for your hand once more. “i have a whole note sheet dedicated to presents for everyone”, you shrug.

“Am I on the list”, iii wiggles his eyebrows, “would have to go back and check, I’m not sure”, you tap at your chin. “Naughty”, he shakes his head, “You don’t have to get anyone anything, you know?”, he steps right in front of you, brushing some of the hair away from your face. “You know that I love giving gifts”, you shrug, “I already stayed awake for two nights cause I can’t ship out II’s presents in time”. iii chuckles, “See the fact that you are losing sleep over ii is annoying to me”, and you can’t help but laugh as well, “You will have to deal with it”, you shrug right as iii bring you closer.

Ivy

I have a sneaky feeling that he is a massive family guy. So you would probably end up spending some part of the Christmas with his family. He would be beaming all the time. This slightly smug smile on his face as he enjoys the hustle of everyone chatting. Arm around your shoulders as he lazily draws shapes on your bare shoulder.

“Here you are”, you turned slightly, catching a glimpse of your boyfriend stepping into the kitchen. “Who put you to work?”, he shook his head, reaching for the tea towel. “No one just wanted to help”, you smiled softly, dipping your hands back into the water. “You didn’t have to do this”, he reassured you, taking the plate out of your hands. “I don’t but I want to, your family planned the whole dinner”, you shake your head.

“You know… this has been the best Christmas ever”, ivy leans against the kitchen island just watching you. “We haven’t opened presents yet, don’t get too cocky”, you chuckle softly. “Don’t care about that, you’re the best present I could have asked for”, he shrugs, making you turn to him. “Why are you looking at me like that?”, he asks, moving to dry your hands with the towel. “A big statement you just made”, you let out a huff, pressing your palms against his chest, “And I mean it”, he leans in kissing your cheek, “Santa thought that I was a good boy this year”, you can’t help but chuckle as you shake your head, leaning in to kiss him. Letting out a surprised yelp as Ivy lifts you settling you down onto the kitchen counter.

#sleep token x reader #sleep token x you #sleep token imagine #sleep token iii imagine #sleep token iii x reader #sleep token ii imagine #sleep token ii x reader #sleep token iv imagine #sleep token iv x reader #sleep token vessel imagine #sleep token vessel x reader

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