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yassbishimvintage · 3 days ago

Text

Shut it Down

Warnings: Smut, Fluff

Word Count: 2.8k

MDNI!

A/N: Merry Christmas y'all.

The sun was shining down in Imani’s face. She had to tear herself away from Terry this morning. Her sister Maya wanted to have breakfast with her to check in. “So now that he’s home how is he?” She asks. Imani sighs. She had to be careful of how she answered the next question. Even though Terry loved her family like his own, he still didn’t want to show weakness.

Imani sipped her coffee as her sister, Maya, watched her curiously from across the diner booth. They had always been close, and Maya could read her like a book. Setting her mug down, Imani took a moment to gather her thoughts before answering.

"He’s... adjusting," Imani replied softly. "It’s been tough for him. Losing Mike, the stress of everything back in Shelby Springs... it’s a lot to process."

Maya nodded, her brow furrowing with concern. "That man has been through hell and back, hasn’t he?" she said. "But what about you? You okay? I know you’re strong, but you can’t pour from an empty cup, sis."

Imani smiled faintly at her sister's words. "I’m okay," she said, though the truth was more complicated. "I just want to be there for him, you know? He’s carrying so much, and I can see it weighing on him. Some days he’s better, but others... it’s like he’s still fighting a battle, just in his head now."

Maya reached across the table and placed her hand over Imani’s. "You’re doing more than enough, Imani. He’s lucky to have you. But make sure he knows it’s okay to lean on you, really lean on you. Sometimes men like him think they have to bear it all alone."

Imani nodded. "I try to remind him of that every day," she said. "Last night, he... he let me in a little more. It’s progress, I guess. I just want him to see that he’s not alone anymore."

Maya leaned back, studying her sister. "You love him, don’t you?"

"With everything in me," Imani said without hesitation.

Maya smiled. "Then he’s got a fighting chance. But don’t forget—taking care of yourself is part of taking care of him. Don’t lose sight of that."

Imani gave her sister a grateful look, appreciating the reminder. "I won’t," she promised. "Thanks, Maya."

"Anytime," Maya said with a wink. "Now, tell me more about this roast beef dinner you made last night. I’m starting to think you’re spoiling that man."

Imani chuckled. "I might be. But he deserves it."

They spent the rest of breakfast laughing and catching up, Imani feeling lighter after the conversation. She had her sister's support, and that meant everything.She smirks. “Now. How’s the sex?” She asks. Imani nearly choked on her coffee, her eyes widening as she looked at Maya. "Really? That’s what you’re asking me right now?" she said, trying to keep her voice down.

Maya raised an eyebrow, unbothered by Imani’s reaction. "Of course, I’m asking. You’ve been glowing lately, so either it’s the sex, or you’ve found a new skincare routine, and I know you too well to believe the latter."

Imani rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the small smile from tugging at her lips. "It’s… amazing, as always," she admitted, her voice dropping slightly. "He’s just... so attentive. Like, he takes his time, you know? Makes sure I’m good before anything else."

Maya leaned in, her interest clearly piqued. "Girl, go on. Don’t leave me hanging."

Imani laughed softly, shaking her head. "Let’s just say he knows exactly what I need, even when I don’t say it. And he’s so... gentle with me, but not too gentle, if you know what I mean."

Maya grinned mischievously. "Oh, I know what you mean. Big, strong, marine boyfriend who’s soft for you but can turn it up when needed? Imani, you’re living the dream."

Imani blushed but couldn’t help laughing. "Okay, enough about my sex life. How’s yours?"

Maya waved her hand dismissively. "Nonexistent at the moment, but that’s fine. I’m focused on me right now. But seriously, I’m happy for you. It sounds like Terry really sees you and loves you the way you deserve."

Imani nodded, her expression softening. "He does. And I don’t take that for granted, not for a second."

Maya raised her coffee mug in a toast. "To men who love us right and know how to handle business."

Imani laughed, clinking her mug against her sister’s. "I’ll drink to that.” Maya turns her head to glance out the window. She sees a black GMC Dua..ley pull into the parking lot. “Who’s that?” she asks.

Imani turned to look where Maya was pointing and spotted the large GMC Dually parked a few spaces away. The truck was pristine, its black paint gleaming under the morning sun, with chrome accents that looked freshly polished. It stood out among the sedans and SUVs in the lot.

Imani raised an eyebrow, recognizing it immediately. "That’s Terry’s truck."

Maya’s eyes widened as she leaned closer to the window. "Wait, he followed you here? What is he, your bodyguard now?"

Imani couldn’t help but chuckle. "No, he probably just wanted to check in on me. You know how he is."

Maya smirked. "Yeah, overprotective and a little territorial. But honestly, can you blame him? Look at you."

Imani rolled her eyes but smiled, gathering her things. "Come on, let’s go say hi before he thinks I’m avoiding him."

As they stepped outside, Terry climbed out of the truck, his towering frame and confident stride impossible to miss. He wore a simple fitted T-shirt and jeans, but the way he carried himself made him look effortlessly commanding.

"Hey, babe," Imani called, walking up to him. "What are you doing here?"

Terry flashed her a small smile, his eyes softening when they met hers. "Just wanted to see you. Figured you might want to grab lunch after you’re done with your sister."

Maya crossed her arms, looking between them with a teasing grin. "You’re setting the bar way too high for the rest of us, Terry. Showing up unannounced just to take her to lunch?"

Terry shrugged, his smile turning a bit sheepish. "What can I say? I like spending time with her."

Imani shook her head, trying to hide her amusement. "Well, since you’re here, why don’t you come sit with us for a bit?"

Terry glanced at Maya, who raised her hands in mock surrender. "Don’t worry, big guy. I’ll keep the embarrassing sister stories to a minimum."

He chuckled, holding the door open for both women. "Appreciate that."

Maya smirks and quickly asks him. “So tell me Mr Marine. What kind of sex spell you got on my little sister.” She says

Terry paused mid-step, his brow arching as a slow smirk spread across his face. "Excuse me?" he asked, his deep voice laced with amusement. He glanced at Imani, who was already groaning in embarrassment, her hand covering her face.

"Maya!" Imani hissed, shooting her sister a glare.

"What?" Maya said innocently, shrugging as she took her seat. "I’m just saying. She’s been glowing since y’all got together, and I’m convinced it’s not just the happy weight."

Terry chuckled, taking the chair beside Imani and resting an arm casually on the back of her seat. His eyes flicked to Maya with a mischievous gleam. "Let’s just say I aim to please," he said smoothly, his tone playful but carrying enough weight to make Maya blink in surprise.

Imani gasped, turning to him. "Terry!"

He laughed, leaning over to kiss her temple. "What? She asked."

Maya burst out laughing, clapping her hands. "Alright, I see you, Marine. No wonder she’s hooked."

Imani shook her head, trying to hide her smile. "You’re impossible, both of you."

Maya grinned, picking up her coffee. "Hey, I’m just trying to figure out why you’re so happy all the time. If it’s because of him, then props to you, Terry. You’re doing something right."

Terry shrugged, his expression softening as he looked at Imani. "She deserves to be happy. That’s all that matters to me."

Maya tilted her head, a rare seriousness settling in her tone. "Well, as long as you keep that mindset, we’re good. I’m just looking out for my baby sister."

Terry nodded, his voice steady. "I wouldn’t expect anything less."

Imani glanced between the two, her heart full as she reached for Terry’s hand under the table, giving it a squeeze.

When she gets in his truck she rests her head on the glass. Everytime he drives his hand rests on her thigh.

As Terry drove, the hum of the engine and the subtle rhythm of the tires on the pavement filled the quiet between them. Imani leaned her head against the cool window, her thoughts wandering as the scenery blurred past. The warmth of Terry’s hand resting on her thigh was a steadying comfort, grounding her in the moment.

It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes about their bond. His thumb moved in absentminded circles, a habit he had whenever his hand found its home there. She glanced down at it and smiled softly, her fingers drifting to rest lightly over his.

"You okay, baby?" he asked, his deep voice breaking the silence.

She turned her head slightly to look at him, the way his strong hands gripped the wheel and how his eyes flicked between her and the road. "I’m okay," she replied, her voice gentle. "Just thinking."

Terry gave her thigh a small squeeze, his way of saying he was there for her without needing words. "About what?"

"About how much I love this," she said softly, her eyes meeting his for a brief second before returning to the passing view outside.

"This?" he asked, his brow arching slightly.

"This," she repeated, covering his hand with hers. "The little things. You driving us, your hand here...it’s just us. I love it."

Terry smiled, his expression softening as he gave her thigh another squeeze. "I love it too," he said simply.

And with that, they fell back into a comfortable silence, letting the unspoken connection between them speak louder than words ever could.

He pulls over. She lifts her head up confused. Terry eased the truck onto the shoulder of the quiet road, the hum of the engine settling into a low idle. He turned to her, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "Let’s play 'wandering hand,'" he said, his voice deep and teasing, the hint of mischief in his eyes unmistakable.

Imani couldn't help but roll her eyes, though a soft laugh escaped her. "Terry," she said, her tone half-amused, half-scolding.

"What?" he replied, feigning innocence as his free hand left the steering wheel and settled on her knee. "You know the rules."

His fingers began their slow, deliberate journey, trailing up her thigh in featherlight strokes that sent a shiver through her. Imani pressed her lips together, trying to maintain composure, but the way his touch lingered just enough to tease made her heart race.

"You’re impossible," she muttered, though there was no real annoyance in her voice.

"And you love it," he shot back, his grin widening as his hand slipped just beneath the hem of her skirt.

Imani reached out, placing her hand over his to halt his progress, though the sparkle in her eyes betrayed her resolve. "You’re going to get us caught, Terry."

"We’re parked," he said, leaning closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur that sent heat spiraling through her. "And it’s not like anyone’s around."

She bit her lip, trying to resist the pull of his charm, but when his lips brushed against her neck and his hand resumed its exploration, resistance became futile. "You’re lucky I love you," she whispered, her voice shaky as she gave in to the moment.

His soft chuckle against her skin was his only reply as the game of "wandering hand" took on a life of its own, the world outside the truck fading into the background.

Terry’s hand paused at the waistband of her panties, his fingers teasingly slipping just beneath the fabric. His breath was warm against her ear as he murmured, “You gonna let me keep going, baby?”

Imani’s breath hitched, her body responding before her mind could form words. She glanced at him, her gaze caught in the intensity of his eyes. “Terry...” she began, her voice soft, laced with a mix of hesitation and desire.

His thumb stroked the delicate skin of her hip, his lips brushing against the corner of her mouth. “Say the word, and I’ll stop,” he said, his voice calm but thick with want. “But if you want me to keep going... I need to hear you say it.”

Her heartbeat thundered in her chest as she let out a shaky exhale. The heat of his hand, the gentle yet deliberate pressure of his touch, sent sparks skittering through her. “Don’t stop,” she whispered, her words barely audible, but they carried all the permission he needed.

Terry leaned in, capturing her lips with his as his hand slid lower, exploring her with the same care and attention that always left her breathless. The world outside the truck was forgotten entirely as they lost themselves in each other, the quiet intimacy between them deepening with every touch and kiss.

When they finally pulled apart, both breathless and tangled in the charged energy of the moment, Terry rested his forehead against hers. “You drive me crazy, you know that?” he whispered, his voice low and full of emotion.

Imani smiled, her cheeks flushed. “Right back at you,” she replied softly, her hands resting on his shoulders as the truck’s engine purred quietly in the background.

“Now I’m turned on and we’re no where near home.” She says.

Terry smirked, his eyes darkening with mischief. “Who said we need to be home for me to take care of you?” he teased, his voice low and smooth, sending a shiver down her spine.

Imani raised an eyebrow at him, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “Oh, so you’re bold now, huh?”

He chuckled, leaning in closer so his lips brushed against her ear. “I’ve always been bold, baby. You just bring it out of me.”

Her cheeks flushed as she swatted at his chest. “Terry, you’re impossible.”

He grinned, his hand still resting possessively on her thigh. “Only for you.”

His hand moved up her thigh as they drove down the road. His thumb doing lazy circles on her exposed skin.

As Terry’s hand moved higher up her thigh, Imani let out a soft breath, feeling the warmth of his touch spread through her. She glanced over at him, catching the glint of mischief in his eyes as his thumb traced slow, deliberate circles. Her heart raced a little, the anticipation of their playful energy making her pulse quicken.

That’s when she couldn’t take it anymore. Not the first time and won’t be the last time they had car sex. In her head she thanks him for the dark tint on the windows. Imani maneuvers herself over the console. She straddles him. “You know I hate car sex.” She says.

Terry chuckles softly, his hands resting on her hips as she straddles him. “You always say that, but then you seem to enjoy it once we get started.” He smirks, his lips brushing against her ear as he speaks.

Imani laughs quietly, leaning in closer. “It’s the lack of space. I like to take my time,” she responds, her hands sliding up his chest as she finds comfort in the familiar closeness of his body.

He presses his forehead to hers, his voice turning playful but with a touch of sincerity. “If you don’t like it, we can always find somewhere else next time.”

She smiles, feeling the warmth of his embrace. "Next time,” she repeats softly, her fingers trailing down his chest, slowly teasing. “But for now...” she leans in, kissing him deeply as her body melts into his.

Terry, ever responsive to her, deepens the kiss, his hands moving to the small of her back to pull her even closer. As the moment lingers, they forget about the cramped space, lost in the connection they share.

“Now. Let me hear you moan for me real fast.” He says. She moans as his hands reach their destination. One thing that always made sure that made him on rock hard was her moans. In the next breath, “Now. Tell me you love me.” He says.

As they arrived at their destination, Imani instinctively reached for Terry's hand, intertwining her fingers with his. She gave it a gentle squeeze, glancing up at him with a soft smile.

“You ready?” she asked, her voice filled with warmth and reassurance.

Terry nodded, his grip on her hand firm yet tender. “As long as you’re with me, I’m ready for anything,” he replied, his tone carrying the weight of his sincerity.

Tags 🏷️

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @avoidthings @nayaesworld @haechvn @writingsbytee @grlsbstshot @haechvn @ovohanna24 @skvrpion @megamindsecretlair @kimuzostar @notpradagurl7 @kenshisluvrgirl @planetblaque

#terry richmond smut #terry richmond x black oc #aaron pierre #terry richmond #terry richmond x oc #aaron pierre smut #Spotify

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gatorbites-imagines · 2 days ago

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Hi, can I please get Wally West x trans reader? Maybe something where the reader is feeling dysphoric and he comforts them, and also some dry humping?

Wally West x FTM reader

Headcanons

Readers vaguely based off of Daredevil, since I like that guy a lot. And the mental image of Wally and his gritty boyfriend is fun to me. Don’t correct me on if keystone city is right, idc.

Nobody could really tell when you and Wally started dating. You just happened to be a vigilante in Keystone city before Wally showed up after being kid flash and all that. His presence really messed up your mojo.

You were the devil incarnate, ready to break as many bones as it took, but you didn’t kill. That didn’t stop you from maiming folk though. Having Wally swoop by to bring people to the hospital and then be back to try and lecture you, really hurt your image.

You were there first though, so there was no way Wally was gonna stop you from doing what you had to do. In the beginning it was kind of like a new tomcat showing up in someone else’s territory.

You didn’t have the speed to be all over the city like Wally, so it was kind of accepted that hed take care of everything else when you were busy. People started begging for Wally to be the one to catch them doing a crime, since you’d break their kneecaps, and then nail them in the head with your billy club.

The relationship between you two was kind of a running joke in the league, especially in the Titans. They all knew that Wally thought you were hot in your own broody, horned way. Someone, probably Garfield, would joke about your suits matching, since you both were red. And yellow, if you wear the yellow and red daredevil suit.

You two were kinda like Batman and Superman, in a way. With you being broody, growly, the night, I am vengeance and will make you suffer the consequences. And Wally being easier going and lighter, full of jokes and hope.

That didn’t mean Wally couldn’t snap and get down and gritty if he needed to. That was probably when you started feeling attracted to him in return, when he couldn’t go easy on somebody who deserved it.

Up until this point you’d have picked up the changes in his pheromones and body heat, as well as his heartrate, which made you understand that he liked you. But it was after you smelled the blood on him and heard his blush rushing through his veins from an almost animalistic adrenaline that you started returning the feelings.

You guys probably date for months, if not a year before the league and the Titans figure it out. Wally would say something about needing to get back to the city since he had to make it in time for your anniversary dinner, and that’s when everyone would figure it out.

The two of you a very much opposites attract. Someone is gonna try to use your relationship with Wally to make you join the league, but he wards them off before you can break tall their teeth for even asking.

You being trans doesn’t matter much to Wally, outside of how it may affect your relationship. And by that I mean, if you for example don’t want him touching your torso or specific areas of your body, what wording to use, helping you with your T injections, so on and so forth.

Hes more perceptive than people think, at least after you guys have been dating a while. Hed start noticing the different signs that point at you feeling dysphoric. Like you going out for longer patrols because being the devil makes you feel more masculine. Or you wearing your binder for too long, if you need one of those.

I don’t think hes just gonna appear and demand answers, instead Wally has tried to figure out overtime what might help. He knows you aren’t the type to just talk about all your feelings and what can be done about it, so Wally would try to find other ways to be supportive and helpful.

You can always tell what he’s doing, since Wally starts going on about how handsome his boyfriend is, how manly you are and smell, how good your muscles look. Even if he’s buffer than you, you better expect him to drool over your muscles.

If you are fine with being touched, Wally would also just cuddle you when you have days where you struggle to look at yourself or even being in your own body. Hes always ready to talk or make changes if he can do anything to help, or just lay in silence if that’s what you need too, even if laying still for a longer time is difficult for a speedster.

Having a speedster boyfriend also means it’s easy to sense it’s him. Having the abilities you do, means you can point out any hero or villain you’ve met before, even in a crowd of a thousand. But the speedster’s connection to the speed force makes them so easy to point out.

It becomes a comfort for you, to feel the buzz that’s seemingly always present around Wally. It’s different around each speedster, but Wally is the most special out of all of them, to you anyways.

Having a speedster boyfriend also means you have access to something very few do, a boyfriend who can vibrate and who has close to no recovery period. This just means Wally is all over you on days where you are fine with that.

And if its one of those days where you want to get off to deal with dysphoria, you barely have to say anything before he’s on you, or beside you, or behind you.

Dysphoria means you don’t want to be touched skin on skin sometimes, and on days like this, good ol dry humping is just as good as anything else Wally could think up. Hes especially a fan when its him laying down and you on top.

It makes you seem so strong and in charge, even if your eyes can’t meet since well… you cant see like the average person. Wally is just giddy and almost buzzing out of his skin as you guys grind together, his hands shaking where they’re holding your hips.

Your heightened senses let you notice just how much he starts buzzing when he gets close. Other people would never notice until he’s just above to fall over the edge, but you can almost taste how his scent and pheromones start buzzing in the air when he’s turned on.

Hearing his heart race and his blood rushing through his body becomes a turn-on in its own way, just as much as grinding down on him and listening to him moan. Wally is also the type to kiss when you guys grind together, his tongue almost fizzy feeling against your own.

It becomes a lot easier to forget your dysphoria with a boyfriend like Wally, who does everything in his power to distract you from it, especially when he gets to rut against you and moan into your ear or neck. Just watch out for small sparks that might come off him, and that your senses don’t get too overwhelmed thanks to the speed force.

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jaegeraether · 2 days ago

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Sunsets and footballers (Part 100)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (76) / Alexia Putellas x Character (52) & Jordan Nobbs x Leah Williamson (29)

Masterlist (other parts here)

Appreciate you all coming along on this 100 chapter journey with me!

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((5.6k))

YFN POV

“I need it to be perfect.” She said frustrated and a little disheartened. She read through her notes again, skimming along with her finger.

A strong hand took hers and gently lowered it. She willingly fell into the comfort of Lucy’s deep, green eyes. “Little one, it is perfect. You’ve made sure of that.”

“And the book-”

Lucy put her hand on the book to hold it down before she could pick it up and overanalyse every word. She paused to smile at the words on the front before she spoke. “The book too. Both are perfect.”

“I don’t know…”

“Don’t make me call Ridley.”

YFN crossed her arms at the threat. “Go on then.”

Lucy chuckled and shrugged, taking out her phone. She pressed call and put it on loud speaker, staring at YFN as if waiting to stop her. But she was stubborn, after all.

“Bronze. How’s doing?”

“I’m alright, just need your help with something. You busy?”

“I have a Spaniard between my legs, but go ahead.”

The sound of Alexia telling her off in the background was amusing. It sounded as if they were fighting over the phone before their faces popped up. They were clearly in the pool, Alexia lounging between Ridley’s legs and both very topless it seemed.

“We are swimming,” Alexia said in her cute Spanish accent. “Don’t listen to her.”

YFN chuckled. She always loved to see how happy they were. “I’m surprised to see you back already.”

“I missed home.” She said, exchanging a look with Alexia. “And I wasn’t lying but hey, we can Facetime you later on when it gets more sexual if you really want.”

“Riddlesss.” YFN warned to her cheeky grin.

“I’m jooooking. Christ. I’m a one woman type of girl. Voyeur elsewhere Bronze.”

“How the fuck did I get roped into this?!” Lucy defended.

The trio chuckled.

“What can I help you with?”

“YFN won’t stop trying to change the speech. She’s insisting it’s not perfect. I figured you’d have the right thing to say.”

Ridley shrugged nonchalantly. “Perfection is subjective.”

YFN’s mouth dropped open slightly. How had she not thought of that?

“And, before you start big-braining around whose perception of perfection is more important, just remember that you’re emotionally involved and biased having spoken to Mark and written both the book and your speech, so our perception is more pure. We are the audience, after all.” She got closer to the phone. “And baby… believe me when I say it’s perfect.”

She felt her lower lip tremble.

Ridley smiled at the look on her face. “That’s my girl. Now don’t you two have better things to be doing?”

“Speaking of perfect,” Lucy answered. “I do have the perfect day planned. First things first, I need you to put on this blindfold.”

“That is our time to leave.” Alexia said.

“Aw, sure we can't stay and watch?” Ridley asked.

“Goodbye you two.”

“See you tomorrow!” YFN said warmly.

The day was perfect, by any standard. Sex in the morning. A phone call with their friends. A surprise picnic in the park where they kicked around a football and then laid around, napping and reading their books. By the time the sun began to set, they packed their things back into the car and wandered hand in hand down towards the coast.

She’d been so distracted by their conversation and flirting that she hadn’t even realised where they were headed.

“So there’s the event and then the business afterparty, and then we can all catch up for food and drinks after while the footballers have a few days off..” she rambled, not knowing they’d stopped.

She looked up at Lucy who seemed to be smiling down at her, patiently listening and waiting for her to realise where they were. Turning, she saw the beach she’d met Jordan on. The exact same spot. The little alcove between the bushes, staring out over the sun setting.

“Oh, Luce…”

Lucy sat and pulled YFN down in between her legs, cradling her there. Taking in the moment, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath in and out. The sea breeze whipped a few strands of hair out of her messy bun, which Lucy tucked behind her ear. YFN opened her eyes to look at the last rays of daylight as the wind shifted. A storm was coming – she could feel it. She smiled and looked up at the darkening clouds. She loved the feeling of the darkness creeping in, and the storm. She was unsure whether it was the potential violence of it, or the uncertainty, but she still loved it nonetheless. She felt comfortable in that space. Leaning back, she felt the warm comfort of Lucy. How much things had changed..

She looked around the beach and saw nobody. Sparing a thought for Jordan then, and where she was now, made her smile. How good the country had been to her.

They stayed for an extended period, until the sun had fully set and the sky was overcast with dark, angry, yet comforting clouds.

“It’s getting cold, my girl.” Lucy murmured into her ear.

She nodded, having thought the same herself. “It’s time to go.”

They walked up the beach and ascended the stairs as the wind worsened. She turned to look one last time before they headed back towards their car. Halfway back it began raining suddenly. Large, heavy droplets of water soaked them in an instant, though they weren’t too concerned. Laughing, they ran to the closest shelter they could find.

Lucy grabbed her by the waist and backed her into the little alcove, her eyes darkening. Fuck, she looked good when she was wet.

Unable to resist, she reached up to tangle her fingers in her soaked hair and drag her head down to hers. It would never get old, kissing Lucy. She was talented in everything she did, including intimacy. She pressed her body up against her offering her no escape, something YFN obsessed over, and tilted her head to deepen the kiss. They tongues met and she moaned into the taller woman’s mouth. She tightened her grip on her jacket in response to Lucy’s thigh pressing up against her and Lucy moaned in return.

“F…fuck. Little one.” She gasped, pulling away slightly. “Not here, it’s too public.”

“You really want to stop?” She challenged, pressing herself harder against Lucy's thigh, rocking slightly into it as her mouth found the soft flesh under her chin and sucked.

Lucy groaned.

“Fuuuuck. More.”

YFN hummed at the power she had over her, rocking her hips and getting the pleasure she needed from the friction of rubbing against her.

“Arghhh.”

Her hand let go of her jacket and slipped down, taking Lucy’s and guiding it up under her own. Lucy didn’t need any guidance from there, her hand kneading her naked breast, thumb brushing over the peak.

“I need.. I..”

“Mmn, what do you need, Luce?”

“I need you.”

“Then take me home and have me.”

Lucy pulled back and seeing that look in her eyes, she knew just what the rest of their night held. “Mmn.” She looked around to make sure no one was looking, and realised the rain had eased off just slightly. “Let’s get home. I need you.”

Chuckling, the two disentangled and Lucy took a slight step back, waiting for YFN who was looking around with a sentimental expression.

“Luce?”

“Ready?”

“I… do you realise where we are?”

Lucy looked around confused and then it hit her. “Oh… it’s... where we met.” That first evening with Jordan, and the rain. “If only I’d known.”

“Known what, Luce?” She murmured with pure happiness at the significance of where they stood.

Lucy took her hand and raised it, kissing the gold band she was so proud of. “That I’d met my wife.”

JORDAN POV

Jordan was finishing the last of her stretches on the balcony outside their London apartment when Blu came bounding out from the kitchen to involve himself. He’d been running between the two of them, excitedly padding around with his short little legs, and was beginning to get tired.

Jordan felt his tongue lick her cheek and chuckled. She grabbed him and rolled into her back, raising him over her like he was Simba. He loved that. His little legs moved as if swimming and he shook with excitement.

Jordan sat up and cuddled him to her chest, giving him a kiss on the head and looked inside through the glass doors to where Leah was watching them with a smile and a spatula awkwardly in her hand. She wasn’t a cook by any means, though she was trying, and that’s all that mattered to Jordan.

The slightly older woman released him and he bounded back inside to his other mother. She was on cooking duties today, though Jordan was just about to go in and keep her company.

She rolled up her gym mat and stepped inside, putting it back in its place and wandering over to where the delicious smell was coming from.

“Need any help?” She asked.

Leah turned and gave that genuine smile of hers. “Want to keep my company?”

“Of course.”

Without a hesitation, Leah picked the smaller woman up and sat her down on the edge of the countertop. “You can just stay right there, then. I have this under control... I think.”

“It smells amazing.”

Leah stirred the pot and then stood with her back against Jordan’s chest. She didn’t hesitate to wrap her legs and arms around her, kissing her cheek a few times. “Those lessons have been coming in handy, it seems.”

“I still can’t believe you went and did that.”

Leah shrugged and turned to steal one of the cheek kisses with her lips. “It was for us. Of course I did.”

Jordan happily hummed and rested her chin against Leah’s slightly taller shoulder. “What is it?”

“Just this… us. It’s all very domestic.”

“Well I’d like to think so after we had to convert the third bedroom into our closet.”

Jordan chuckled. “Hey, my place isn’t much better. Lucky YFN is living in London full-time with Lucy now – her room has almost more clothes than this one! She barely has room when she stops in for a few nights.”

“God, I just want to live with you already.” Leah grumbled, turning and resting her forehead against her collarbone. Being the only person who Leah let comfort her was not lost on Jordan. “Why can’t we have that?”

“One more season..” Jordan reminded, reassuringly stroking her back. “And then I’ll move to London.”

“Just let me move there, Jord.” Leah almost pleaded. It wasn’t the first time.

“I’d never let you choose me over Arsenal. It’s one year.. what’s one more season?”

Leah groaned, ditching the spatula to wrap her arms around her. “One more season away from my wife.”

A shiver ran down her spine. She loved when she called her ‘wife.’ It was even better than seeing it around social media. Leah and Jordan Williamson-Nobbs. They’d decided to hyphenate rather than choose like their friends.

“I’ve already begun to do some work with YFN.. can you give me one more season?”

Leah pulled back to study her. “Of course. Of course. I don’t mean to pressure you at all, I’m just being needy.”

Jordan draped her hands over her shoulder. “I love it when you’re needy.”

“Yeah?” She whispered, kissing her softly. Just tasting…

“One more season with a Christmas holiday in amongst it... this time with your folks. And as for the neediness, I say we Facetime more and pay your therapist extra.”

“Poor girl.” Leah chuckled.

“Until then, let’s make the most of it...” Jordan mumbled, pulling her close. Leah grabbed at Jordan’s oversized clothes, tugging her to the edge of the bench and sliding her hands under to feel her. Their mouths connected and as they did so, Jordan smelled burning. Looking over Leah’s shoulder, she saw the pot begin to bubble over the edge.

This wasn’t exactly unusual, even when Leah was watching it.

Instead of telling her, she smiled into her mouth and let herself enjoy the taste and feel of her for a few more seconds, knowing their night would probably end like it usually did…. with takeaway.

ALEXIA POV

Alexia dodged left to avoid an incoming Mapi. She used her body to protect the ball from Ona before dodging right and kicking to Caroline on the far side. With the defenders' attention now away from her, she chased forward quickly, pushing her legs to outrun them as she pointed to the spot where she wanted it.

Alexia yelled for the ball. Caroline kicked. The ball came directly to where she’d pointed of course, unimpeded even by Ona sliding through. Alexia’s boot connected exactly where she’d wanted it to, left foot and straight into the top right corner. Cata leapt and missed by barely an inch.

Perfect.

Alexia felt the grin lighting up her face at that glorious sound of the ball hitting the back of the net. The final whistle blew just as it did so and before she could really react properly, her training team swarmed around, all trying to get a piece of her. She usually didn’t let her team celebrate her too hard, but this felt special.

Everything was good.

“Yes, Alexia!” Keira yelled from behind her as she grabbed her.

“LA REINAAAAA!” Patri yelled into her ear far too loudly.

She felt her body being shook from every direction and tried to let herself enjoy it for once.

“That’s it for today!” Pere called to the team. “Well done to Alexia’s team. Go enjoy your event and I’ll see you all on Monday.”

The girls gave their thanks in amongst the celebrations, as the rest of the team came over to congratulate them.

“You want to take my trophies away again, huh?” Aitana joked.

“God, you shot so quick,” Ona smiled, genuinely happy for her friend.

She heard a person whistling in celebration and rolled her eyes. “Okay okay, enough celebrating now.” Alexia said, yet unable to stop her grin.

“Oh, that wasn’t us,” Mapi teased, jerking her head towards the sidelines.

Alexia’s heart jumped as she looked over and spotted Ridley sitting on the fence. She was back, and looking as relaxed as ever with Alexia’s sunglasses on, her legs slightly spread and a proud looking smile on her face as she watched from afar patiently with Chiquito sitting by her side.

Alexia tried to ignore the teasing from her group. Chiquito looked up at Ridley and then back to Alexia in a sort of question.

“Chiquito!” Alexia called.

He didn’t need to be called twice. The little, fluffy grey cat abandoned his spot to trot over to where Alexia and the girls were standing. She bent down to pick him up, saying her hellos before he was kidnapped by the rest of team. He’d become somewhat of a team mascot, having been around them all so often.

Alexia smiled as she watched him share the love and attention of the girls around, though her attention was now elsewhere as her feet took her towards her Australian.

As she reached her, she parted her legs further with her hands, her palms sliding up the bare skin of Ridley’s thighs and wrapping around her back. She tried to withhold the urge to groan at the comfort of it. Of her.

Her warmth. Her smile. Her touch. Alexia’s home. Ridley held her softly, leaning her head against Alexia’s and presumably watching the girls play with Chiquito over her shoulder.

“Congratulations, my girl.” She murmured in Catalan. “Amazing, as always.”

Alexia hummed against her, happy that she’d seen it. She’d never been the type to be too publicly affectionate, though that had shifted slightly with her relationship with Ridley, especially after their headline-making event with Bashir. Now she wanted to be near her wherever she was. It was such a strange, lovely feeling to have her on the sidelines at games, sitting amongst her family, and at training, talking to her teammates.

“You’re back..” she murmured into her, happy that she didn’t have to wait until that night to see her.

“Mmn. I saw an opportunity to come home earlier and I took it.”

That sent a nice shiver up Alexia’s spine for multiple reasons. Not only the fact that she’d called her ‘home’ but that she’d left her military family who she was so close to, just to come home earlier to her.

Alexia squeezed a little harder before pulling back to see her face. Ridley moved her sunglasses to the top of her head and tucked the sweaty strands of Alexia’s now more brunette looking hair behind her ears. She looked at the scar the bullet had left her with, cutting from just above her eyebrow and disappearing into her hairline. It was now a faded pink colour and looking less aggressive every day. She reached up to stroke it with her thumb, forever grateful that it hadn’t been deeper.

Ridley let her play with it, closing her eyes as Alexia’s thumb moved down and across the one on her cheek. She caught her hand as it reached her jaw and turned her head to kiss the pad of her thumb, and then her thumb, palm, wrist.

“Ready to go home?”

Before she could answer, the girls came over. “What time are you picking us up tomorrow?” Keira asked, handing Chiquito back to Alexia.

“Will we be flying in the Barca plane you bought for us?” Patri interjected.

“First of all, the bus will pick you all up from here at 9am. Secondly… Alexia wouldn’t let me buy anything. Barca has a long-term lease on that plane from my company instead.”

She pouted as if she were unhappy, but she’d still managed to work her way around the problem, of course. Alexia’s stomach fluttered at the cocky look in her eyes.

“But no..” Ridley continued and then chuckled. “No, we’ll be in something much faster and less conspicuous. Management don’t exactly want unnecessary trips while Lucy and Mariona’s faces are still on the plane.”

“You’d think they would have planned ahead.”

“It’s not like I didn’t warn them..” she murmured cheekily. “But never mind that, I’m here to take this one off your hands.”

“At least let her shower first!” Ona exclaimed as a few more of the girls came over.

Alexia stayed quiet as usual and turned to Ridley who looked her up and down with a smirk. “I think I’ll shower her myself at home.”

She rolled her eyes, having expected her to say something similar. “Do you mind waiting? It’s been a really hot day and I want to get these sweaty clothes off me as soon as I can.”

Ridley looked her up and down, seeming to enjoy the enjoying the ‘sweaty clothes’ and gave her a calm but hungry look. Like she hadn’t seen her in a week. Which was about accurate. “I’d wait forever for you.”

Alexia tried to hide her smirk and ignore the teasing noises from her teammates as she took a step back. She was eager to get showered and back home with her. As she’d expected, Ridley moved to follow, sliding off the fence and entering her personal space again. She was slightly taller which meant Alexia had to look up to see that smirk of hers.

A week was the longest they’d been apart since before the island. She could barely keep her hands off her now let along the thought of when they finally got home.

The group made their way into the changing rooms for their showers. Alexia forced herself to go slowly, knowing how frustrating it would be for Ridley, and even though she was annoyingly good at hiding it, Alexia was slowly getting to know her little tells of frustration and impatience. The shifting of her weight onto one foot, the clasped or pocketed hands as if to hold them back from reaching, her head tilt to overcompensate and remind herself to slow down.

Alexia checked herself in the steamed mirror one more time and dropped the towel in the basket as she left the showers. She walked into the changing rooms to see an array of her half-naked teammates all in different stages of dressing and talking. Her eyes found her locker and below it was Ridley sitting calmly, her eyes on Chiquito alone as he sat on the table in the middle of the room with multiple people patting him. The small smile on her face showed how proud she was of him.

Alexia’s first step into the room was met with was Ridley’s eyes flicking to her. Her head tilted as she looked her up and down. Regardless of how turned on she was, she knew the one thing they both wanted more than anything. A hug. She guessed her need to touch and show love was that Spanish side of her, but for Ridley it was different. She wasn’t necessarily a touchy person, unless it was with Alexia. It seemed to be growing on her as a comfort, and so it was never a thing that the Spaniard shoved aside or refused.

Alexia walked right up to the Australian, her knees in between her own and leant over her completely as she put her clothes away. She felt Ridley chuckling into her chest as she did so, gently grasping the backs of her thighs as if to hold her there.

“Ready to go home?” Alexia mimicked from earlier, looking down at her.

Ridley held up Alexia’s car key. “I’ll drive.”

“9am sharp!” Ridley called out to the girls as she drove off.

Alexia reached out to play with her hair as Ridley pet Chiquito who was curled up in her lap.

“He missed you..” she murmured.

“I missed you both.”

“Will you need to go back soon?”

“The team will handle the clean up, Lex. There’s no talk of needing me back anytime soon.”

Alexia hummed happily at that until she spotted a gash with dried blood behind Ridley’s ear. She inspected it with her fingertips. Before she could speak, Ridley did.

“I wasn’t on the front line, Lex, I promise. Wombat got a little too carried away with the working out.” She said calmly, making Alexia chuckle at the image. Since the incident with Bashir, she’d promised to not go front line again unless it was absolutely necessary for her team, or others. “Besides, you already know this. I know you and Duce talk behind my back. What a rat.”

“I like her.”

“She’s just trying to stay in your good books. They’re still getting used to knowing a bit of my personal side.”

“A bit?”

She rolled her eyes. “The biggest part of my personal side.”

“I’m very likeable, you know.”

“Jesus, I’m back for thirty minutes and I’m already copping it.”

“Of course. Someone needs to remind you that not everything is about you.”

Ridley’s mouth dropped open slightly which amused Alexia to no end. She loved every time she surprised her. It was rare.

Before she could get her composure, Alexia reached over and closed her mouth for her.

Ridley’s jaw twitched in amusement and she shook her head. “You’re a pain, you are.”

“You wouldn’t like me so much if I were easy.” She shrugged. “And besides, I’m your pain.”

She hummed in agreement. “That you are. And just to be clear, I’m not surprised you two like each other.”

“It doesn’t bother you at all..?”

“Honestly? The opposite.” She pulled up in front of Ridley’s house which they now shared, and turned to her. Alexia fell into those dark eyes of hers gladly and tightened the hold she had on her thigh. “It doesn’t bother you that I talk to your family often?”

Although she’d been hesitant at first, Ridley had eventually slipped into the fold of the family. It was a bit impossible not to with them, especially after they’d bombarded her at Christmas. “The opposite.”

After they’d made up for a week apart, the pair had spent the rest of their day snacking by the pool. It had been incredible to have a longer pool for the rehab and recovery of her knee back to a solid form. Ever since, she’d made it a habit to do pool workouts a few times a week. Ridley usually watched, sitting and reading a book or playing with a guitar as she did so. She’d been interested and invested in her rehabilitation and everything that went into it.

Ridley was also getting used to being in a relationship. Allowing herself to love and be loved. The island had been a start, but Alexia had known that. She’d never complained, though. They’d always communicated their needs and fears, no matter how difficulty, and were growing together.

It meant a lot less independence, and more teamwork. Less decision and more compromise. This included Ridley adjusting to become more physical. Able to touch, instead of look respectfully from afar. This meant pushing aside that military side of her which needed her hands free. Learning to be the one to initiate contact. To get used to sleeping with that warmth and skin to skin contact.

It also meant that as Alexia sat at the shallow end of the pool, Ridley could come up behind her, dipping her legs into the cool water either side of the Spaniard and cradle her arms around her, stroking her arms with her fingertips, her neck with her mouth.

Both of them had been rather hesitant with it – the worry of falling too deep – though they’d both had a realisation on the night that Bashir had died as to just how far they were in it already. There was no safety net now. They were all in, together.

“It’s almost 4pm,” Ridley murmured in Catalan as her lips explored along her cheek.

Alexia didn’t answer, because she was more than happy right there instead. She kept her eyes closed, head tilted back as she enjoyed the feel of Ridley everywhere. She could feel herself getting wet, even in the water, and her nipples hardening almost to the point of pain.

“Alexia,” she said again, this time in a more warning tone. Her movements stopped and she covered her cold nipples with her palms. The warmth was glorious. “Your interview.. and I don’t like how cold you’re getting.”

She opened her eyes and realised that the sun had set so low that they were fully covered in shade.

Alexia finished with her interview after an hour and wandered through their large house, in search of Ridley. Although it was very comparable to the way it was when she’d first moved in, due to their similar tastes, it now held pieces of herself also. Jerseys and trophies and sentimental pieces here and there. It felt more like them together, rather than just one of them.

She checked by the pool, the office, her art studio, the library, their bedroom. She checked her bedside table for the passport she’d need the next day and found it exactly where she’d left it, with Ridley’s note tucked into it. Smiling, she put it back and turned to see Chiquito at the door. He must have been spending time with her, as he’d missed her the past week.

“Take me to her…”

Ever the intelligent cat, he turned and led Alexia to the last place she could be if she was still in the house.

There by herself in the darkened studio, was Ridley. Her headphones were around her neck, her hand resting on a keyboard and eyes closed as she listened to the track back, presumably checking a note or lyric. It sounded perfect to Alexia. Something she hadn’t heard before. If she had to describe it, it would be… obsession, and adoration.

Although it was dark, she could still see the silhouette of her face, the emotions written across it as it slightly changed with each part of the song.

Just before it ended, Ridley opened her eyes as if she knew she was there. Her lips tilted up at the confirmation and watched Alexia as she listened to the end of the song with her. From the look on her face, she didn’t even need to ask what the song was about.

It was hers.

YFN POV

YFN shook with nerves as her Lumos team introduced her to the stage. She looked at the clicker in her left hand and the notes in her other, pausing as she decided to leave the latter behind. She knew what she wanted to say.

She walked onto the stage accepting the applause as it rang through the crowd.

“Really good job up there.” She praised her team as they passed each other. They gave her proud smiles and “good lucks” as she took centre stage and stopped to take a breath.

She pressed the clicker and turned to see the new company logo once again adorning the screen.

“We here at Lumos began with so much drive and passion that we forgot to introduce ourselves. Tonight, we remedy that. Good evening, my name is YFN, and it’s my honour to be the first to introduce you to Lumos – the first women’s sports media titan.” She took another breath to steady her heart. “When we started twelve months ago, we had one goal: to change the narrative, to give women’s sports the recognition, respect and platform it deserves and tonight, I’m proud to say we’ve taken our first bold steps and accomplished what no one has before. Lumos is now the primary media outlet for women’s football, covering all the top leagues across the globe with plans to expand into all women’s sports in the future. This is just the beginning, but what a beginning it has been!”

She paused to hear that warm, encouraging applause filling the room. Her gaze briefly met Lucy’s proud look in the crowd which steadied her, as well as Alexia and Ridley’s. Ridley being proud of her meant more than she realised and she felt so supported, surrounded by the people she loved most.

“Tonight, we want to share our story with you – not just where we’ve been, but where we’re going. You’ll see the heart of Lumos – our culture, aspirations, and our commitment to innovation and inclusion. You’ll see our platforms, culture, charity and philanthropic initiatives. But for now, more than anything, you’ll see the power of collaboration. This moment, and everything leading up to it, would not have been possible without the extraordinary women who live and breathe the game. Female footballers, and their fans from around the world have trusted us with their stories, their triumphs, their challenges. Their voices have shaped what we are unveiling tonight, and their courage continues to inspire everything we do.”

She paused to look at Mark, his cheek twitching as he realised who she was referring to. She softened her tone as she continued at that heart of her message.

“Lumos is more than a media company. It’s a mission. And at the core of that mission is a promise to shine a light on every untold story, to give a platform to the overlooked, and to honour the dreams and passions of those who came before us. At the heart of Lumos stands a charity dedicated to the legacy of a young girl who shared the same passions and dreams as we do. Her legacy is our promise: to stand for hope, inclusion and possibility.”

She let the weight of her words linger as the room fell into a deeper silence. Then, with quiet strength, she began her conclusion.

“And to begin our journey, comes the launch of our book… a prequel of our life so far, if you will. It is a reflection of the journey we’ve all taken together. From the friendships, to the love stories, football, the headline-making incidents, footballers, and to the charity at the heart of us. This book is about believing in the power of possibility, about working for something greater than ourselves. We’re here because we believe women’s sports can inspire and unite the world because women too, deserve the spotlight.”

She pressed the clicker in her hand and saw the screen behind her reflecting on the crowd and it were as if the world slowed as they stood to cheer. She took as much of it in as she could, appreciating the moment and all of the hard work she’d put into making the moment what it was. Her eyes flickered over the people in the crowd from Lumos who had made it possible, over Kate and a still unsuspecting William as he clapped for a company he had no idea his wife had created. She looked over the footballers, Katie, Caitlin, Kyra, footballers from Arsenal, Barcelona, and such. Alexia and Ridley were sat at the front with proud smiles alongside Lucy who was clapping loudest of all. She chuckled lightly at that and tried to hold back her tears.

After she took it all in, she smiled and turned to the giant screen behind her which was illuminated with a simple title: Sunsets and Footballers by YFN Bronze.

65 notes · View notes

nikkisheep · 1 day ago

Note

Me again, I live for the virgin reader stories. Anyways. Could you do a sam one kinda like the Dean story? Please and thanks!

Sam Winchester x virgin!female!reader

Warnings: SMUT, virgin reader, oral (f), fingering, dirty talk, Sam physically having to hold himself back to keep from going rough, kissing, cursing, biting, a lot of mentions of Sam's strength (I just want to bite his bicep), slight hair pulling, fluff at the end :)

Summary: After a year of dating, you finally ask Sam to take your virginity.

Lips move together in sync as his hands are in your hair, pulling slightly as he gets lost in the feeling of you. Your body moves against his in a dragging movement as your hips ground against his, pulling soft whimpers from your lips all the while pulling low grunts from deep within his throat.

Sam pulls away from the kiss so that his mouth finds your neck, one of his hands moving from your hair to your ass, pulling it up slightly so that he can grind his hips against your core. His mouth is hot against your skin and your head lulls back as his teeth graze your collarbones, his shirt slipping down your shoulder as you continue to move against him.

Hot pants and gasps escape your lips as your hand moves into his growing hair to gently scrape your nails against this scalp, earning a quiet moan from the tall man. The bed beneath you creaked lightly as your body weights moved on the mattress. What was supposed to be the two of you watching a movie turned out to be a very heated make out session, leading to your insides burning with desire for the strong brunette that currently was moving you against him like you weighted nothing.

"Sam," You whimper against the air, mouth hanging open as Sam mouths at the top part of your chest, never going further.

Sam grunts in acknowledgment for you to continue your thoughts. In moments like this, you can start to ramble when your heated sessions reach this point. This time, he feels that you're about to tell him to return to your lips or you want to stop so he goes ahead and starts to pull away.

To his surprise, the hand in his hair pushes him back down to your breasts and you gasp when his mouth makes contact with the top half due to his shirt slipping further off your body.

"Sam, do not stop." Your moans get higher as you ground your soaked pussy to his jean covered dick. You continued to hump him as you started to chase that tightening feeling in your core.

"Baby, I have to stop before you do something you aren't ready for," Sam says as he lifts your hips off of him and you groan in frustration.

"Sam, I am ready," You say with a pout, tears forming in your eyes because of the denied orgasm.

"Are you completely sure?" He asks, not wanting you to feel pressured to take that next step, no matter how badly his dick hurt from the constant teasing.

"Sam, I want you to take my virginity. I'm ready and I want it to be with you."

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

His hands move slowly down your body as Sam kisses you softly, your head pressing into the pillow as your close your eyes to concentrate on the pleasure you are feeling. Your shirt is still on but barely doing much to cover your modesty. His hands trace your sides before gently grabbing the bottom of your shirt, pulling his lips away from yours to kiss your neck.

"Can I remove this?" He asks, breathlessly and you nod a yes.

"Words, sweetheart."

"Please," You whimper, your hand coming up to his hair to pull him up to your lips again. He moves away from your body before asking you again.

"If you do not use your words, baby, I will stop right now and we can go back to watching the movie. I will not do anything without getting a "yes" so that I have verbally been told."

"Yes, you can remove my shirt, Sam." You answer.

"Good girl," He says, pulling your shirt up over your head, his knuckles running up your body as the piece of fabric is removed.

"So beautiful," He says, his lips returning to your neck, sucking gently before biting gently. His left hand comes up to turn your face away from him so he can have better access to your neck as he moves down, kissing your skin as he does. His right hand holds him above you as his lips caress your sweat covered skin as his other hand slowly finds your breast, giving it a soft squeeze.

"You have absolutely no idea how long I have wanted to do this," He says, lips finding purchase on your nipple causing you to let out a gasp as his warm tongue lulls over the sensitive area. Your body arches up into him as your lips part into an "O".

His lips caress your body and you let out the tiniest moans as Sam's large hands start to spread your thighs before sliding down to reach your pussy. His warm breath fanned over your panties, causing you to shudder slightly, wondering what was to come. His finger comes up and glides gently up and down your underwear and his eyes snap up to look at your reaction.

"Do you want me to remove these?" He asks, applying pressure.

You nod to him frantically. He tsks at you before slapping your thigh gently.

"If you do not use words, sweetheart, I will stop and you don't want me to stop do you?"

"No, Sam, please!" You plead with him.

His hands grab at the top of your underwear and pull them down your legs and tosses them somewhere behind him. He then looked up at you with desire filling his eyes. He then lowers his mouth to your body and then you felt it. His warm tongue flattened against your clit and you let out a loud moan as he worked his mouth against your body.

"Oh God yes," You cry. "Please, don't stop."

"It's just Sam, not God," He says as your moans get higher in pitch and he adds two finger inside your hole to start stretching you out for him.

"Sam," You cry out as his fingers curl inside of you and one of your hands finds purchase in his hair and the other grabs your breast, squeezing as your back arches against Sam.

"Oh look at you," Sam says as he pulls his mouth away from your pussy long enough to speak. "I've barely touched you and yet you're about to cum. So wet for me. Is all of this for me?"

You nod your head as it lulls to the side and drool starts to come out of your mouth as you silently scream.

"Now be a good girl and cum for me," He demands as he gets back to work with his tongue, his fingers working overtime by curling and pushing against your G-spot, sending waves of pleasure through your veins all the way up to your brain.

Your body felt like it was on fire, your muscles were locked tight, your body was shaking as the blood rushed to your ears and all you heard was the sound of your heartbeat pumping in your ears. You felt like your brain was pulsing with how strong your orgasm hit you. Sam was muttering something as he continued to finger you through your climax.

Kissing up your body, Sam mutters praises against your skin and finally reaches your lips. His lips are slow as he passionately kisses you while moving your legs back to the bed as your muscles relax. He then slides back so he can undress. Only then did you realize that he was still fully dressed. It made you shiver with excitement as he pulls his shirt off, revealing his toned body. His abs and arms flexed naturally and you couldn't help but stare. You had seen him shirtless a countless amount of times during hunts or him coming out of the shower, but this time it felt different. Sam smirks at you before slowly unbuttoning his button on his jeans. As he pulls down the zipper, you can't tear your eyes away from his hands. He slips his jeans down his legs and your eyes nearly bug out of your head when you see the tent inside his underwear.

You move down the bed and kiss his lower stomach, right above his boxers and his breath shudders. Naturally, your hand comes up and runs along his underwear covered dick, enjoying the heat coming from his body. Sam's head tilts back and his hand comes to rest in your hair. Your hands slip below his underwear and grip his cock, giving it a quick squeeze, only letting go when he made a soft groan.

"Take them off for me," He says softly, almost breathlessly.

You peel his underwear off his body and he steps out of them. You inhale sharply at the sight of his dick, not knowing how that thing was supposed to be inside of you.

"How is that going to fit inside of me?" You ask, nervousness flashing over your face.

Sam leans down to kiss you and it slowly melts away your worry.

"Don't worry, I'll be as gentle as I can if you let me."

You nod and the two of you move up the bed as you kiss and your legs spread to allow him room in between them. He grins boyishly at your face shining with bliss. You look like an angel, innocent and pure, beaming up at him with love that he never thought would be shining in his direction. Your eyes held such admiration for the younger Winchester that he blushed slightly. His muscular body lowers against yours and his strong arms cage you under him. One of his hands move from the bed to run up and down your body while the other one helps support him above the bed.

His hand then moved to grab his dick and position it with your opening. You feel the pressure of it just sitting there and you think he might just split you in two with just how thick he feels. Seeing your worry, Sam leans back and grab your hand to hold it as his other directs himself slightly further inside of you.

"Will it hurt?" You ask, fear laced in your words.

"Only for a second, but if it hurts too much, let me know so I can pull out and we can try something else or abandon this because I can not carry on if you are in pain or uncomfortable. So, please baby, let me know."

At your approval, Sam moves his hips forward slowly and his dick slowly enters your wet entrance. He groans loudly and you hiss at the sudden pinch of pain. It felt like your body was on fire and you both groaned when he bottomed out which felt like it was eternity.

Sam's large hands come up to your face and cradles it as he mutters praises to you.

"Doing so good for me baby. God, how did I get so lucky? Can I move now honey or do you need a few more minutes?" He practically whimpers and his entire body is straining against itself to not move until you give the okay. With a nod of your head, Sam pulls out almost completely and then slams back in. Your body jolts a few inches up the bed and Sam is whining at how good you feel.

"So fu-fucking g-good,'' He moans as you arch your back to him. Your moans carried through the room and the sounds of his hips hitting your wet flesh could be heard through the bunker.

"Oh God, Sam!"

"So fucking wet for me baby. Bet I could just slip right back in if I pulled all the way o-out," he groans.

His hips snap a little bit harder, your hands trying to grip his sweaty back and your nails dig into his skin, almost piercing the skin. Sam wraps his arms around you and then turn over so that you are on top and you feel even more full in this position and you let out a sharp gasp as his dick is pumping in and out of you, almost feral with the way that Sam was moving.

His groans and curses were coming out breathlessly and he couldn't hold them back. His right arm wrapped around your body as his left gripped your hair, pulling you against him so that he could feverishly kiss you, nipping at your bottom lip as you struggled to breathe from how much your muscles burned. You started to bounce on his dick as he helped move you. His mouth left yours and his left hand pulled your head back to reveal your neck so he could bite and mark you as his. You moan his name desperately as the feeling of his tongue lathing over the bites that he left on your neck.

His lips attack your body as his hips abuse your cunt. Your orgasm is almost in reach as Sam's hand moves down to circle your clit. He starts to rub fiercely as his other hand came down to grip your ass and direct your body up and down. Your arms wrap around his neck and find his hair which makes you pull his head back and the sweat rolls down his neck deliciously. You nibble at his ear before leaving little bite marks against his skin on his neck before licking the sweat on his collarbone and then biting it slightly harder than expected.

"Oh fuck," He says as he closes his eyes as pleasure courses through his body. "Cum for me, sweetheart. Will you please cum for me?"

Your second orgasm hits you so hard you black out for a few seconds before coming back to reality with Sam's loud whining and his strings of curses.

"Where do you want it?" He asks, hips moving faster and punching into your cunt, stealing your breath for a second.

"In me." Is all you said before he groans loudly and bites down onto your shoulder to muffle his moans and potential screams as he came so hard. The endless ropes of thick cum filled you completely and you both slumped against each other when he finally came down from his high.

"Thank you," You say. "This means a lot to me."

"It meant everything to me that you trusted me with this," He says, hand coming up to smooth your hair away from your face.

"I love you, Sam. You made me feel loved tonight in a whole new way and I am so glad it was you that my first time was with you."

"I never wanted you to feel pressured or feel like this was the only way that I would stay with you so even if you told me at any point of these moments tonight, I would have stopped because you are what is important to me, not my sexual urges. You mean more to me than just a sexual conquest and I have been honored to do this for you. I love you and I am so lucky to be loved by you."

You kiss him again and he smiles happily into the kiss.

"Now before we do anything, we need to get cleaned up and then we can go back to watching movies because I really need to know what happens when they get to the Capitol."

"Are you saying that you want to finish The Hunger Games before going for round two?" You smile as the two of you start to clean each other up.

"I'm not saying that I'm not down for round two, but Katniss and Peeta have some really strong chemistry."

"I can not believe you," You laugh as you through his shirt on and then find a clean pair of underwear.

"Look if I have to watch another minute of this tension between them, I might actually lose it."

You playfully hit him on the shoulder as you put the TV back on and he cuddles up behind you.

"I still can not believe that you are choosing this over me."

"Sometimes life calls for some hard decisions."

"Uh huh, sure." You smile as you rest against him and the movie starts to play from where you left off.

#sam winchester smut #sam winchester x reader #supernatural x reader smut #supernatural x reader #supernatural #Sam winchester fluff #Sam winchester #Sam winchester x virgin!reader #x virgin!reader #supernatural x virgin!reader

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smoky-lucine · 2 days ago

Text

Close Call

Little sister!Reader

After a close call during a hunt, The Winchester brothers panic as Castiel heals you.

Injuries, angst

My second fic :) I'm still trying to get the hang of writing but hopefully you all enjoy :)

You and the boys have been working on a case dealing with werewolves. You managed to catch one and kill it, and he confessed there is a whole pack in town and now you need to find the rest of them. You and Sam stayed in the motel and studied up on werewolves while Dean and Cas went out to the recent attacks around the town.

You didn’t get a lot of sleep the last few nights, as the werewolf attacks were happening faster and faster, and the four of you have been out every night on watch for any leads. Sam nudges your shoulder, and your chin slips off your hand and you jolt awake.

“Everything alright?” Sam asks while he shuts the book you fell asleep reading and sits down next to you.

“I’m okay, just tired from being out so late last night.” You say, rubbing your eyes.

Dean calls Sam and he gives you a gentle smile before he answers the phone and puts the call on speaker.

“Hey Dean, did you find anything?”

“Yeah. One of the Officers was a werewolf. He told us where they’re all staying before we took him out. We’re gonna hit it tonight alright?” Dean explains and you hear Castiel in the background ordering food for the three of you.

“Sounds good to me. Did he say how many of them are staying there?” You reply

“Nope. By the looks of how many attacks there's been, I don’t think it would be more than 7 or 8.” Dean says confidently.

Sam keeps talking about the case with Dean and you start getting silver bullets and knives ready for the hunt.

Later that night the four of you are on the way to the werewolves hiding house in the Impala. Sam and Dean are having their own conversation in the front while you and Castiel talk in the back.

“Have you ever hunted werewolves before?” You ask Cas.

“A few times yes. Angels don’t usually deal with them. Have you?”

“Occasionally yeah. I haven’t seen them in a while though, not since we still hunted with dad.” You say looking away. You didn’t like talking about your dad anymore, nobody really did. “I haven’t practiced my shooting in a bit too.”

“I’m sure we got it kid.” Dean says to you looking in the rear view mirror. “It’s gonna be a small pack. It’s gonna be in and out.”

You give him a smile. You turn to yawn and look out the window for the rest of the ride.

The four of you get ready and watch the house waiting for Dean to decide when to go in.

“Alright. Sam and Cas you two go in the side door, Y/N and I will go through the front.”

You look at Dean surprised. He normally chooses Sam when splitting up and it would make sense here too.

“Are you sure Dean?” You ask him nervously. “Yes, I’m sure. Do you not want to go in? What’s wrong?” Sam looks at you knowing you're tired, but he knows you don't want to tell the truth to Dean.

“No, it’s okay.” You say quietly, walking away a bit and focusing back on the house. Everybody does one last look at each other before splitting up and breaking into the house.

Dean kicks the door down and you both run in aiming separate ways. You hear Dean shoot a werewolf down and he turns to check on you in the now empty room. You can hear the other wolves in the house warning the others and running to defend against the four of you. You run up to the doorway, calling it clear and Dean runs into the kitchen with you following.

Making your way through the house, you and Dean each take down a few werewolves, and eventually meet up with Sam and Cas. The upstairs is still loud with werewolves running and escaping. You all say how many you took down and quickly realize there are at least triple the number of werewolves than Dean previously thought.

“But that doesn’t make sense. How can there be so many??” He says reloading his gun and looking around the room.

You responded “The attacks were happening faster and faster. I guess they don’t want to be careful anymore.” You focus on reloading your gun when you hear a growl.

You turn and see a werewolf sprinting at you and tackles you, losing all air in your lungs and dropping your gun. It claws at your stomach, leaving a huge gash. You quickly start seeing stars and your vision starts clouding, black slowly starting to take over. Coughing and screaming out you hear multiple gunshots and the werewolf dying.

Sam and Dean run up to you, eyes shocked at your injury.

“She’s really hurt.” Sam says, tearing up trying to get your eyes to focus.

“Sammy we gotta get her out of here.” Dean says loudly and begins to pick you up, flinching when he hears you cry out in pain. “There’s too many wolves here we need to leave.”

Dean runs as quickly as possible to Baby, putting you in the backseat. He throws the keys to Sam and yells "Drive!!” Castiel gets in the passenger seat and Sam runs to the driver’s seat and quickly starts the car, driving away from the house.

Dean holds you in the backseat trying to keep himself composed as he talks to you. “It’s okay Y/N. It’s gonna be okay alright? I’m so sorry I should’ve paid more attention. Look at me Y/N, open your eyes.” He begins to panic and yells at Sam to drive faster.

“We need to get far enough away; Cas needs to heal her.” Sam says speeding down the road.

You slip in and out of consciousness and wake up to Dean crying over you, and Sam and Cas yelling in worry. The three boys can’t stand hearing you scream in pain. You pass out and when the car is suddenly silent, Sam pulls over quickly as he and Castiel rush out of the car to reach you in the back seat.

“Cas, heal her.” Dean says solely focused on holding you still. Sam holds your hand as Castiel puts his hand on your stomach. His hand emits a bright white glow and Sam and Dean look away.

You wake up in the motel room. You look around at the quiet room and see Castiel in the corner staring at you.

“You're awake.” He says walking up to you. “I healed you. You’ve been asleep for a couple days, Sam finally got Dean to leave and eat.” You lift your shirt and there isn't a single scratch on your abdomen.

Castiel helps you sit up and hands you a bottle of water. “Your physical injuries are healed, but your body is tired. I could tell you haven’t slept in a few days.”

You drink the water and hand it back to Castiel. “Yeah, those night watches have been pretty hard. I appreciate you healing me and staying with me.” You give him a small smile and he gives you one in return and lets you rest longer.

Sam and Dean come home and seeing you sitting up in bed they run up to you. Dean hugs you tightly and when you yelp in surprise he lets go, scared you were somehow still injured. “Kid, I was so scared. I thought we lost you.” he says kneeling beside the bed, looking at you.

Sam gives you a big hug before climbing into the other side of the bed and letting you lean into his side. “It was really scary Y/N. I’m so relieved we got you healed in time.”

“I’m really sorry guys.” You say tearing up. “I haven’t slept in days, and I really wanted to help fight them, but I know I should’ve stayed back.”

Dean grabs your hand, “Y/N this isn’t your fault. I shouldn’t have put that pressure on you, and I should’ve stuck to the plan. Please don’t blame yourself.”

You all sit there quietly talking to each other until you slowly fall asleep and get more rest.

#supernatural #fanfic #dean winchester #dean winchester x little sister #sam winchester #sam winchester x sister!reader #castiel #winchester!sister #winchester!reader #spn #writeblr

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yandere-kokeshi · 7 hours ago

Note

Hey!! I know its kind of a weird ask but how would yandere dad ghost react to discovered that his kid has a terminal sickness.

— Yandere Dad! Ghost reacting to his kiddo being diagnosed with a terminal illness

Warnings: Yandere platonic behavior, huge angst, Teenager! Reader, details of being sick and death.

A/N: Not a weird ask at all!! I enjoy these types of angst asks 😭. Enjoy!!!

Dad! Ghost is… distraught. More than he can relate to any other word. He’s quiet, too quiet for anyone’s comfortableness. His throat closes up, eyes gone wide, brown pupils staring at the doctor, as he begins to feel his hands shake uncontrollably. Even if he held his wrist to straighten it out, like his life depended on it, it’d still shake in fear.

He recognizes it for what it is—adrenaline, the body's reaction to stress. He hasn’t felt this type of panic since he left home. What a fuckin’ joke. But life is, isn’t it?

His body just feels numb. A way too familiar feeling he had in his chest, just sitting there occupied before you came into his life. It’s unfair. Extremely so, but he just accepts it. He’s straightforward—asking how much time you have left with an unreadable expression. He doesn’t fight with the doctor or even try to negotiate if there was a cure—both of you know there isn’t one, and that’s the hardest part for him to accept.

Anger is the first of the few emotions he feels. Not at you, but rather at himself. He forgets to breathe, feeling his chest tighten at the thought of you leaving. Dad! Ghost prides himself on taking care of you. Better than anyone, better than how he was treated growing up. When he took you as his, he promised to care for you—dedicated to your health and safety. And now, he’s failed at the most important section as a parent.

The first thing he asks is just for a hug. He doesn’t force you, but you can feel the rawness in the question. The desperation. The loss of something of his yet again. It’s a tight embrace, his fingers digging into your back. He needs to feel you, living and breathing, accepting the fact that he won’t be able to at some point. He’ll be asking for them a lot, especially for the first few months when your health begins to deteriorate.

In a way, Dad! Ghost softens—way more than his usual softness toward you, almost where it’s uncomfortable. It’s another façade, a mask behind his regular fatherly ways, to hide his pain from you. Like a marble statue slowly crumbling away.

He lets you stay up way later, trying to make the best of it with you. The two of you watch all types of TV shows, laughing at the comedy. Getting your favorite takeout every week, eating it whilst watching some of his and yours favorites. Taking you to visit different countries and states if that’s what you decide to do—even if it’s out of his comfort zone. He takes so many pictures of you, living in the moment and trying not to think negatively.

He doesn’t tell the team about your diagnosis, but somehow, they know. They always do. It’s the signature distance he has with them—even Laswell messages are just left on read or answered late, a lack in his communication. They all mourn equally, being there for him, for you. But at some point, Dad! Ghost will just break without you here.

—

Masterlist || Reblogs, comments, and likes are very much appreciated!! Stay well!!

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slaymitchabernathy · 3 days ago

Text

The Night Before Christmas

Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house, lots of creatures were stirring, aside from a mouse.

Coriolanus peeks his head out of his study when he hears little feet running by and catches a glimpse of one of his children rounding the corner. He shakes his head, he's told them countless times not to run in the house, they have neighbors below them who he'd like to remain on good terms with.

"Ceraphina darling, let's fix your hair," Soarynn calls from down the hall.

Coriolanus readies himself this time, standing in the doorway when his oldest daughter runs by him and he reaches out, grabbing her and scooping her up. "Daddy!" She shrieks, kicking her feet in the air, "Daddy, put me down!"

Coriolanus chuckles, pressing a kiss to the side of her head, "What have I told you about running hmm? We don't want to upset the Dolittles sweetheart." Ceraphina at least has the decency to look guilty at being caught red-handed and rests a hand on his shoulder, "I won't ever do it again," she promises even though they both know she will.

He hums, gently setting her back down on the floor, "I'll hold you to that, now go find your mother so you can get ready for the show."

Coriolanus bought tickets to the ballet for tonight, the night before Christmas, and as expected, the children are very excited. The girls are the most excited since this is a chance to see the pretty ballerines in their costumes. For Caspian, it simply means getting to stay up past his bedtime which is a treat in itself.

Ceraphina makes a big show of slowly walking down the hallway to find her mother and Coriolanus goes back into his study, he ought to start getting ready himself. He puts his work away, neatly stacking his papers and putting away his pens when he hears a meow. He looks down at the floor and finds Petunia looking up at him.

Petunia is...well she's...Petunia is Soarynn's cat. There, that's the perfect way to explain his relationship with Petunia, she belongs to his wife which has led to them having to form something of a relationship. Most days they ignore each other but it's moments like this when everyone is busy that she seeks him out to bother him.

Coriolanus is not impressed when she rolls onto her back, paws in the air and a tilt to her head, "Go away," he tells the feline, closing the drawer to his desk, "or go find Soarynn." Petunia swipes at his shoes but he dodges her attack, after living with her for a good six years, he knows how she operates.

"Daddy look!"

He turns back to the doorway and sees that his youngest daughter is ready for tonight. Her hair has been pulled away from her face into a ponytail and he can see the big red bow Soarynn tied around it. Celeste is wearing a cute green dress with white tights and shiny black shoes with a little strap going across them. She looks adorable.

"Well, don't you look pretty? Do a twirl for me princess," he says, smiling when Celeste holds out her arms and spins around, almost falling over in the process but he reaches out and steadies her. "Was I just like the ballerinas Daddy?"

Coriolanus warily eyes Petunia who has now rolled back onto her feet and is slowly approaching him and Celeste. She's so sweet with the children which means that she purposely goes out of her way to be rude to him and only him.

"Yes you were darling," he answers, taking a step back, "why don't you and Petunia go find your mother hmm?"

"But I just saw Mommy, she said I was ready."

Petunia is getting ready to lunge and Coriolanus is getting ready to run, "Well, go see her again, and take Petunia with you please."

Celeste gives him a curious look but the four-year-old asks no questions and picks Petunia up, groaning at the small weight she has to carry, "C'mon Petunia, let's go find Mommy."

Petunia glares at Coriolanus before she's carried away and he smirks, she'll be subjected to cuddles and pets, what a terrible life to live. She probably thought that she had him cornered with Celeste in the room but he's quicker than that.

And Snow always lands on top.

꧁ ꧂

Thirty minutes later, Coriolanus is ready for dinner and a show.

He looks rather dashing in his red suit with a heavy red coat to match. They get cold winters in the Capitol with the mountains so close by and he knows better than to underestimate the weather.

He's putting on his gloves when Ceraphina and Celeste come into his closet, both wearing their sweetest smiles, "Come look at how pretty Mommy looks," Celeste says, tugging on his coat. Coriolanus slips his wallet into his pocket before complying with their wishes and following them out into the bedroom.

Soarynn had gotten all three children dressed and ready for the ballet in the time it took him to get one child ready, once again solidifying that he truly married the perfect woman. And he almost loses his breath when he sees how stunning she looks tonight.

While all three of their children are dressed in green, it seems that she tore a page out of his book and wore red. Her dress clings to her figure, showing off her curves in all the right places. It's long-sleeved and the sleeves have intricate beaded patterns sewn into them, truly making this dress a piece of art. The neckline goes straight across her neck, showing off her collarbones while still remaining tasteful.

He's at a loss for words.

"Doesn't Mommy look pretty?"

Coriolanus manages to nod and pick his jaw off the floor, "She looks very pretty," he agrees, deciding that tonight will end with that dress on the floor.

Soarynn smiles so sweetly at his compliment and comes over to him, fussing with his tie and the lapels of his suit, "Well you look very handsome Coryo," she purrs, doing nothing to help his growing desire for her. He rests his hands on her waist, almost wishing the children weren't present but he still leans in and pecks her lips.

The girls sigh like they always do whenever witnessing something they consider romantic. They'll love the ballet since there's bound to be some romance. "Momma, bring Lenny please," Caspian says, tugging on her dress and breaking their kiss. Soarynn gives him a sad smile and shakes her head, "Lenny can't come, darling," she explains, crouching down to be at their son's level, "he has to stay home."

Caspian pouts and Coriolanus can see that his son is already on the verge of tears which they cannot afford if they plan on making it out the door on time. "You know, Cecil will be there tonight Cas," he reminds his son, "so you'll have lots of company."

The Snows will be joining the Creeds at the ballet tonight and Festus phoned him just this morning to tell him that their son Cecil would be in attendance. Caspian and Cecil are two months apart in age and love to toddle around together whenever the families get together.

Sure enough, Caspian lights up at the idea of seeing his friend at the ballet, and the tears are kept at bay. Soarynn whispers a few more encouraging words to their youngest child before kissing his cheek. While the girls have Coriolanus wrapped around their fingers, Caspian has Soarynn in the palm of his hand.

Soarynn always denies such claims, arguing that boys should be raised with a very involved mother so they grow up into proper gentlemen but Coriolanus knows that she's only telling half the truth. The other half is that she simply adores Caspian, her only son and last child. He's a spitting image of Coriolanus with his bright blue eyes and golden curls and Soarynn can't help but dote on him.

Caspian allows her to pick him up and Coriolanus turns back to the girls, "Are we ready to go then?" They both nod, bouncing on their toes, "Yes!"

Soarynn dressed both the girls in the same outfit and they look nearly identical. Ceraphina looks more like Soarynn with her wavy hair and blue-gray eyes and Celeste seems to be a mix of her parents with her blond curls and blue eyes. They're so close in age that people often have trouble telling them apart.

"Alright," he says, "I expect you girls to be on your best behavior," he warns, "no fighting, no fussing, no arguing. Or Santa won't come and bring you any presents."

Their eyes widen at the threat and Soarynn nudges him with her elbow, "Really?" She whispers, not looking too pleased with the threat, "I've just secured us perfect behavior for tonight darling," he insists, resting his hand on her back, "now let's go enjoy the ballet."

꧁ ꧂

They arrive at the theater with ten minutes to spare.

While they made it out of the door on time, Coriolanus hadn't anticipated the traffic that Christmas Eve would bring. But they made it and that's all that matters. The Snow family follows an usher down the lavishly decorated hallway to their private box and the girls are teeming with excitement.

"Here you are Mr. Snow, please don't hesitate to ask for assistance should you need any," the young man says to Coriolanus, bowing at the waist. Coriolanus grunts and Soarynn gives the man a kind smile, "Thank you," she says, "and Merry Christmas."

Coriolanus opens the door to their box and the Creeds are already seated. "Look who finally showed up," Festus jokes, rising from his seat. Coriolanus rolls his eyes, stepping to the side so the rest of his family can come inside. The girls walk in first, amazed at all the ornate details and light fixtures.

"Hello Mr. Creed," Ceraphina says once she tears her focus away from the opulence that comes with being a Snow. Coriolanus is more than pleased with how polite his children are at such a young age and watches them shake his good friend's hand before making their way over to his wife, Persephone.

"Oh, Festus, you look so handsome," Soarynn says, the last to enter the small room, "we're so glad you all could join us tonight." Festus smiles and greets Soarynn with the expected kiss on the cheek and gives Caspian a wink, "It took some convincing to get Persephone out of the house but we made it," he says with a sigh.

Coriolanus knows exactly why it's been so hard to get Persephone out of the house the past month, it's because she's pregnant and is at the stage where everything is uncomfortable and too loud. But she seems to be in good spirits when he looks over at her talking to the girls.

"Well, I'm sure she's ready for your second baby boy to be here," Soarynn replies, a fond look in her eyes while holding Caspian. "Cecil," is all Caspian says, looking around for his own friend.

"Cecil is right over there," Festus points at his wife, "he keeps trying to sit in his mother's lap but his little brother takes up quite a bit of room." Soarynn sighs and Coriolanus can see her remembering what it was like being pregnant. Unlike some women, Soarynn loved being pregnant, she would've carried Persephone's baby if she could've.

She gives Coriolanus a hopeful look and he's quick to shake his head, "Absolutely not," he tells her before she can start planning for a fourth child, "we are three and done."

Festus chuckles and pats Coriolanus on the back, "That's what I told Persephone, one and done and now look at us."

Soarynn goes over to her good friend and Coriolanus doesn't feel any better when he sees Soarynn rest a hand on her protruding baby bump, "We don't need any more children," Coriolanus says, more to himself than to Festus. They really don't. Soarynn has given him three perfect children, why have another and ruin their odds?

He's always had a healthy fear of pregnancy, more so the birth since his own mother tragically died giving birth to his little sister who also died. Watching Soarynn push all three of their children out was terrifying even though she did it tremendously well.

He can't risk losing her.

"I suppose it's up to fate really, now why don't we order a drink and sit down," Festus suggests. Coriolanus nods in agreement, a drink is just what he needs right now. The two men place an order for two glasses of bourbon before going to their seats where Coriolanus properly greets Persephone and Cecil who is in fact, trying to sit in her lap.

"He's soaking in his last days as an only child," Persephone explains, rubbing her stomach, "and his days are numbered."

Ceraphina rests her hands on the edge of the balcony, peering down at the stage and the other people who will be watching the show, "Was I an only child Daddy?"

Coriolanus rests a hand on Soarynn's knee, leaning back into his seat, "You were sweetheart," he answers, "but only for a little while." Ceraphina and Celeste are barely a year apart due to how quickly Soarynn got pregnant after giving birth to Ceraphina. She was far too young to understand what was going on around her before her little sister arrived.

"Ceraphina darling, come sit down," Soarynn says, patting the empty seat next to her. Ceraphina does as she's told and sits down next to Soarynn with Celeste to her left. Coriolanus looks to his right where Festus is sitting and then Persephone and a struggling Cecil who's determined to sit in his mother's lap.

Festus shake his head at the sight, "He's a bit of a slow learner."

Coriolanus is glad that Caspian is a quiet toddler who doesn't ever put up much of a fuss. He looks very content in Soarynn's lap, his head resting on her chest. Soarynn dressed him in a little green suit and even slicked back his curls the same way Coriolanus does to his own curls.

The lights finally dim and a hush falls over the room. The girls whisper to each other, on the edge of their seats for the show to start. "Here are your drinks," an attendant says quietly from behind them. Coriolanus turns and gladly takes both glasses of bourbon and hands on to Festus who grins, "To a happy holiday," Festus whispers. Coriolanus taps his glass against his, "And to many more," he whispers back.

He looks at Soarynn who seems so content with this life they've created, Caspian in her lap while she holds Ceraphina's hand.

Yes, he decides, bringing the glass to his lips, to many more moments like this.

꧁ ꧂

The girls chatter about the ballet the whole time during dinner as if everyone wasn't just there to witness it.

But Coriolanus doesn't mind, he's simply pleased with their good behavior and proper manners. Caspian has behaved exceptionally well tonight too, not putting up any fuss despite staying up past his bedtime. Both little boys are sitting in their parent's laps, keeping themselves occupied by playing with the napkins.

"I honestly can't wait for him to start going to school," Festus admits, running a hand over Cecil's curls. With Persephone carrying a child already, Cecil landed in his father's lap and it's quite amusing to see Festus Creed with a child in his lap, especially after seeing him make a fool of himself when they were younger.

Coriolanus thinks back to his own days at the Academy, he was a stellar student and that's where he met Soarynn. She was in his art class and he was tragically doomed when it came to being creative. Soarynn had so sweetly offered to help and Coriolanus was also tragically doomed to fall in love with her. He asked her out on a date and the rest was history.

He wishes he could go back in time and tell his younger self that everything worked out in the end, they married the girl, had three children, and were more successful than ever.

"I like school," Ceraphina chimes in, finally talking about something else rather than the ballet. Soarynn nods and smiles, "Yes you do darling, and next year Celeste will join you."

Celeste perks up at the mention of her attending the Academy next year. The Academy is the most prestigious school in the Capitol. If you want your children to have a successful future then you'll pay the whopping tuition and send them there for the next twelve years or so.

The Snows will obviously be sending all three of their children there but Coriolanus knows how much Soarynn will miss her days filled with arts and crafts and reading stories. No wonder she wants another baby.

"Tuition has gone up hasn't it?" Persephone asks and Coriolanus grunts, reaching for his glass of wine if he's going to have to talk about money, "It certainly has," he confirms, "it goes up every year."

Soarynn places her hand on top of his, giving it a squeeze, "But we're paying for a proper education for all three of our children," she sweetly reminds him. She has a point but it doesn't change the fact that Coriolanus will at some point be paying for three tuitions, not to mention sports, extracurricular activities, uniforms, and who knows what else. And they always make donations on top of that.

Soarynn has always insisted on donating to the school, as if they don't already run him dry but he supposes that it sounds like a great idea when she's not the one working every day.

"I can get a job to help," Ceraphina quickly offers, "I'm good at counting." All the adults chuckle at her naive way of thinking, so innocent and sweet, "That won't be necessary darling," Coriolanus assures her, "we can afford all the tuitions in the world."

Persephone changes the topic to a possible trip to District Four but Coriolanus keeps his focus on Soarynn who's holding a now-sleeping Caspian in her lap. He might make jokes about being the sole breadwinner in their family but after all she's given him, he wouldn't have it any other way.

Soarynn has given him something that money could never buy. She gave him a family, a legacy, a purpose.

If she were a gift then she'd be priceless.

꧁ ꧂

"Let's put the cookies over here girls."

Coriolanus watches Soarynn and the girls carry a plate of cookies into the living room where their Christmas tree is, getting ready for Santa to visit their penthouse.

"Will Santa be able to get in our apartment?" Celeste asks, sticking her head into their fireplace that Coriolanus hasn't used in about ten years. Soarynn decorated it with stockings and garlands but Celeste looks skeptical about how Santa will be getting into their penthouse tonight.

"Of course, he will," Coriolanus answers, "Santa finds a way to get into everyone's house."

There are many things that one can never prepare for when becoming a parent but Coriolanus was never prepared for Santa. It started when Ceraphina was two and actually was able to grasp the concept of Christmas and Santa and they've kept it up ever since.

"Now we leave these here for Santa to eat when he comes later tonight," Soarynn explains to the children, "then in the morning, we can wake up and open our presents." Caspian bounces on his toes, gripping the coffee table for support, "Santa comes now!"

Soarynn grins and pushes the plate in the middle of the table, "He only comes once you're sleeping Cas," she reminds their son, "so we all have to go to sleep now."

Coriolanus knows that the girls won't be able to sleep a wink tonight but Caspian can sleep through anything, a trait he inherited from his mother. The Capitol could be bombed and Soarynn would still sleep through it.

Coriolanus on the other hand wakes up at the slightest noise. Soarynn teases him about it all the time, claiming that he's paranoid but he sees it as being protective. He would never forgive himself if something were to happen to any of his children while he was asleep.

"Yes, let's go to bed," Coriolanus says, holding a hand out to Celeste who gingerly takes it, glancing back at their twinkling Christmas tree. The children love getting to decorate it and Soarynn always does such a good job at decorating their entire apartment.

They all make their way to the children's respective bedrooms and the girls manage to swindle Coriolanus into letting them sleep together. "It's so we can sleep better," Ceraphina explains, climbing into her canopy bed. Celeste nods and grunts, having to use a little more effort to climb onto the bed, "Yep, we've gotta sleep together 'cause we'll fall asleep quicker Daddy."

Coriolanus gives her a boost and a knowing look, "Really? Well, Santa will know if you're not asleep," he reminds them, "and he won't come unless everyone is sleeping."

The girls get under the covers and look up at him with wide eyes, hanging onto his every word, "We'll go to sleep," Celeste promises, "and then we'll come wake you and Mommy up in the morning!"

Coriolanus does his best to look excited about the early wakeup call he'll be getting at the crack of dawn from his children. The girls normally sleep until either he or Soarynn wakes them up but Christmas calls for a special occasion.

"We'll be looking forward to that. Now close your eyes and go to sleep hmm?"

Coriolanus leans down, pressing a kiss to each of their foreheads the way he does every night, "Goodnight Daddy."

Coriolanus smiles, smoothing down Ceraphina's hair, "Goodnight my princesses, I'll see you in the morning."

After making sure that they're all tucked in, Coriolanus quietly pads to the doors and turns off the light, looking back to make sure that they're actually asleep and not pretending. He fell for that before and he's never going to fall for it again.

Soarynn appears in the doorway just as he's about to leave and she peeks into their room, a fond look in her eyes, "Goodnight girls," she whispers, blowing them a kiss, "we'll see you in the morning."

Coriolanus wraps an arm around her waist and leads them out into the hallway, closing the doors behind them, "Caspian is asleep?" He asks while nuzzling her cheek with his nose, making her giggle, "Yes," she says, wrapping her arms around his neck, "not a creature is stirring except for us."

Coriolanus slides his other hand down her dress, stopping when he reaches the small of her waist, "You know, we could be really naughty tonight," he whispers, kissing her cheek. Soarynn leans into his touch, fully trusting him to hold her, "But we've been so good this year," she counters, teasing him while scratching the back of his neck.

Coriolanus groans, she's always known his weak spots and is so pesky when she takes advantage of them

"Santa won't mind," he promises, moving his lips to her soft ones, kissing her deeply. Soarynn instantly responds to his touch and moans when his hand slides a little further down, squeezing her ass, "Our bedroom," she whispers urgently and Coriolanus is happy to take her to their sacred space.

Most nights that end like this are considered perfect in his mind. But this night is more special than most.

It's the night before Christmas.

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

| taglist: @strawberriicakes @wonderlandbound111 @kickmybark @villiansarehottest @thevoicesinmyprettylittlehead @melodyoflovee @erensrealgf |

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sapphiresaphics · 2 days ago

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The reason why I keep bringing up media literacy and bad faith criticisms is because of things like this. Follow along if you can!

^^^———

I saw this post the other day where this person suggested that the reason Vi didn’t get as much character development was because the writers didn’t know what to do with her. That’s a pretty bold statement to make. I’ve certainly not heard any of the writers express that opinion at all. So where did this idea come from? What interview provided us with that look behind the scenes?

Luckily someone asked for a source, and they obliged! And my friends… this gets weirder…

The “source” ends up being this game journalism article:

This is an entire article dedicated to basically interpreting, reframing, and summarizing…. A tweet.

A single tweet by Christian Linke.

An entire article that took his response to a question WAY out of proportion and infused it with more meaning than was intended.

Here’s the original tweet. A user ask’s about VI’s character being less prominent, and his response is basically “we had a lot of characters” which is true. There were a lot of characters to squeeze in appropriate amounts of time for. Vi included. Here’s the original tweet:

It’s really not much at all, is it? This isn’t him admitting they didn’t know what to do with her, or that they abandoned her storyline or anything like that. All he said was there were a lot of characters and as a result Vi got a little less screen time as a matter of fact. Nothing more, nothing less.

But here’s how the game article summarized things:

^^^———

So do you see what I’m getting at here? A fan asks a reasonable question, and Linke gives a very straightforward answer. This is picked up and interpreted by the games journalist reporter and given far greater weight that it deserves, including a flashy headline. People see this and add even MORE of their own personal biases and exaggerated opinions and spread that around… and before long that innocent tweet somehow is “proof they didn’t know what to do with Vi and that’s why her arc was reduced to X thing I didn’t like!”

Swirling around Season 2 of Arcane is this weird game of telephone where with each step of the journey the original message is getting lost and distorted and twisted around. Unfortunately when a quote is this ambiguous, it leaves it open to interpretation. I’ve seen this same tweet be used to explain why every character had “bad writing.”

And the games journalist isn’t technically wrong in their coverage… after all, all they did was post the tweet and then re-summarize the same tweet. But by taking what the fan asked and twisting it into “Arcane lead explains why Vi felt like a side character” as an article headline, they’ve distorted the original interaction and infused it with this twinge of negativity designed to get you angry enough to click on the article.

Arcane Season 2 had a lot of story to tell with a lot of characters. As a result Vi’s screen time was slightly reduced. Doesn’t matter that out of all the characters she has the most screen time across both seasons. Nothing about acknowledging that as a simple fact explains motivations behind the writing of her arc in season 2 at all. It says nothing about her pitfighter phase, her relationship with Caitlyn, or her final battle fight with Jinx and Warwick. But if you were already critical of season 2, this gives you a plausible air of credibility for whatever “reasons” you think they did what they did. And then you just spread this fabrication to the internet where it just snowballs out of control.

So much of the negativity surrounding Arcane Season 2 is the result of this game of telephone and it’s really starting to bother me. And when you label overblown garbage like this as “arcane critical” then I genuinely believe you’re doing this on purpose and you don’t have an original thought in your body. You’re not being critical, you’re just letting your ignorance and biases control everything. This is bad faith argument construction at it’s worst.

#arcane #arcane season 2 #arcane critical is a bad faith hashtag #bad arcane criticism #i’m so sick of these ridiculously bad takes #bad faith criticism #bad faith argument #arcane criticism #arcane critical #arcane spoilers #arcane s2 #vi #vi arcane

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eternalera · 5 hours ago

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CHARACTERS BEING OUT OF CHARACTER IS GOOD WHEN DONE RIGHT!!

and im sick of people saying that it isn't. now you may be asking when is ooc good? well my dear let me answer your question.

is it good in every day life activities? no

is it good in normal conversation? no

is it good in a calm controlled environment? no

is it good when faced with a moral decision? yes

is it good when backed into a corner? yes

is it good in chaos? yes

is it good in showing character development? yes

personally i feel like characters being ooc is needed in order to make them interesting. of course though when they're being ooc it can't be so ooc to the point where it doesn't match them at all or the situation that they're in. when im saying being ooc is good im talking when a character is faced with a moral dilemma. a good character preaching this and that about saving the majority and helping those that need it, yet when being forced to make a decision such as kill 3 kids and save 4 adults or kill 4 adults and save four kids they end up choosing to kill the adults or something along those lines.

forcing a character to act out of character makes them so much more interesting. not to mention that them acting ooc is what can give them character development.

for example jinx in arcane with isha and vi. when jinx and vi get into a fight isha jumps in to try and help jinx only to get hit by vi. in this moment we as the audience are expecting for jinx to yell at vi, get mad at her and tell her that she can't hit isha and say how she's a bad sister for doing so. we expect her to get overprotective over isha.

but that doesnt happen, instead she checks up on isha and leaves vi alone. the s1 jinx wouldve yelled at vi but this one doesnt. why? character development. its a rather small moment of jinx being ooc but it fits her and her character in a way so it works.

it also helps us establish that shes a lot calmer now than she was before.

i have a ton of more examples but personally i think that a character is just so much more interesting when theyre slightly out of character from time to time because it gives them development and makes them seem more real. because people in every day lives are also gonna act ooc randomly and while its not a big change most of the time its still a change.

anyways those are just my thoughts so... yeah :)

#ooc #arcane #jinx #jinx arcane #writeblr #writing #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity

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vithir · 2 days ago

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Su- what kind of flowers?

Chapter 11 of Bright Water by AstronomyAddict on ao3

Regulus lifted his glass towards James. “Shall we toast?”

James reached out and clinked his glass against Regulus’s. “To what?” he asked with a crooked smile.

“I don’t know yet,” Regulus said with a twinkle in his eye. “Perhaps to understanding each other a little better.”

James smiled back, still nervous, but oddly calm in his company. “Was that an invitation to get to know you better? I’ll take it that way, so okay, I have at least 100 questions for you. Where do I start?”

Regulus chuckled and took a sip of his wine. He fit in so well here; in a fancy restaurant with fine food. “Start with the easy questions, please.”

James thought carefully. He wanted to know so many different things, and he didn’t know where to begin. Regulus had said easy, so that’s what he would try.

“What change would you like to see in the world?” James asked eagerly, and Reg laughed again. “I said easy! That was not an easy question.”

James didn’t have to think long before he had an easier, yet not boring question. “What music do you listen to?”

“Classical.”

James nodded slowly. That actually made quite a bit of sense when he thought about it

“Do you play music then?”

“Yes, I play the piano, and I’ve been doing it since I was four,” James was lost for words. Could this man be any more attractive? “I also compose my own music.” Yes, he certainly could. Regulus played and composed music! James didn’t know what to say, but he realised that his silence was starting to stretch on too long.

"Wow, that's wonderful! We should do something together one day." He flashed a crooked smile at Regulus, still trying to take in the new information. He composed music? Of course he did!

"Next question!" Regulus ordered.

James massaged his temples in a thoughtful gesture, even though he already knew what to ask. He had so many questions and wanted to fire them all off at once—

"What's your favourite place to take a nap?"

"The floor."

"How often do you dance?"

"Never."

"Which workers have the worst job?"

"Nursery teachers."

"Favourite scent?"

"Cinnamon."

"Food?"

"Snails."

"Favourite flower?"

"Su—you're absolutely not getting that out of me!" Regulus glared across the table. James couldn't help but laugh. That glare was so adorable, filling every corner of his heart.

"Why won't you say it? I'll figure it out anyway. Whether I get it out of you, or I have to bring you different flowers every time we hang out, that's up to you."

Regulus glared even harder, leaning over the table toward James.

"Oh, is that what you think? I can tell you right now that—"

"Dinner's ready." Regulus was cut off by a short-haired woman who entered with two delicious-smelling plates. Regulus leaned back as she placed one plate in front of him and the other in front of James. She stood beside the table, looking expectantly at Regulus. He said nothing. With a small sigh, she left, and James couldn't help but laugh. Regulus had just brushed her off, which meant he wasn’t interested in her. James picked up his cutlery and began cutting into a potato. He had never been that keen on squid. It was a bit rubbery, and the taste was something he'd never quite gotten used to. He couldn’t understand why Regulus appreciated it. With his French background, it made sense that he was used to eating odd things—snails, frog legs, and yes, squid.

"So," James said after the silence had stretched on for a bit too long. He put his elbows on the table and leaned forward. "The favourite flower. I’m serious. I’ll figure it out, sooner or later."

Regulus slowly looked up from his plate, his eyes glinting with both irritation and amusement. "Are you seriously bringing up flowers right now? In the middle of dinner?"

James laughed and nodded. "Yeah, why not? Flowers are interesting! They say a lot about a person."

Regulus rolled his eyes and took a bite of his food, but James could see he wasn’t planning to answer immediately. Instead, he took his time, chewing slowly, as if weighing his next move.

"Alright, let’s say I give you my answer," Regulus finally said, his voice low and almost secretive. "What are you going to do with that information? Buy me flowers all the time?"

James blinked dramatically, pretending to think deeply about the question. "Maybe. Or maybe I’ll just use it against you every time I need to make you smile."

Regulus snorted and shook his head, but there was a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "You’re an idiot."

James laughed again and shrugged. "Maybe, but I’m your idiot."

There was a brief silence where Regulus just looked at him. "I don’t have a favourite flower," he said suddenly, but James could hear the doubt in his voice.

"I don’t believe you," James said. "Everyone has a favourite flower, even if they won’t admit it. But fine, I’ll figure it out. You won’t be able to hide it forever."

Regulus simply gave him a sceptical look but dropped the subject. Instead, he took a sip of his wine, as if he had won the battle—but James knew better. He had all the time in the world to crack Regulus’ shell. "Wait and see," he muttered to himself with a satisfied smile.

#marauders #james potter #regulus black #jegulus #bright water #fanfic #james potter x regulus black #james x regulus

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afrsconp · 3 days ago

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A little holiday gift for the Tumblr Nisaac ghosties, with extra thanks to @yourstrulyray, whose post partly inspired the ending.

Thanks everyone for being so welcoming to a latecomer like me. <3

Written for the prompt: Your fave ship had some troubles and broke up but they're getting back together during the holidays.

(Which is obviously a Nisaac prompt if ever there was one.)

He finds Nigel on the little stone bench outside, where they’d first decided to try just being friends. And by anyone's measure, they’ve succeeded–more than a year has gone by since, and it's been one of the best of Isaac's afterlife that he can recall.

It wasn't until they started spending time together again that Isaac really understood why he'd been so out of sorts before. Not just lingering upset over the failure of their nuptials, but just the simple fact that he missed Nigel. Missed walking with him, conversing with him, even arguing with him. Isaac hadn't realised how much time they'd come to spend together once they started dating, nor how much he'd come to rely on Nigel's advice, or wit, or comfort whenever he needed it.

And Nigel never failed to provide it. Never fails, Isaac corrects himself now, as Nigel is as thoughtful and considerate a friend as he was a romantic partner. Isaac hopes he's done as much for Nigel, but in truth, he's really not so sure.

“Isaac,” Nigel says in greeting, when he sees Isaac coming towards him.

The noise of the Christmas party is muffled out here, but they can still hear the laughter and the music spilling out of the windows, still feel the warmth of the happiness and joy of their friends–living and ghost alike–inside the house proper. Isaac isn't really a sentimental man but the thought makes him smile, as does the sight of a man that's occupied a great deal of his thoughts for the better part of 300 years now.

“Nigel,” he greets in return, and sits beside him on the bench. Nigel's uniform suits the surroundings, the red of his coat a festive flash of colour amidst the grey stone of the house and the pristine white of newly fallen snow. He looks like something out of a postcard, or a picture book, or a–

A dream, Isaac thinks. A dream he's held for a very, very long time.

“I was wondering where you'd gone,” Isaac adds. His voice is soft; for some reason, it doesn't feel right to speak too loudly out here.

“I just needed a moment,” Nigel replies. His voice, too, is quieter than it usually is.

“For?”

Nigel is silent for some time, looking into the darkness beyond the yard and towards the woods in the distance. Isaac can't see his face clearly; not only is it dark but he's also in profile, keeping his eyes from Isaac's view. It makes it difficult to guess what he's thinking as his eyes have always been the most expressive thing about him. Often even more so than his words, which is saying a lot considering how eloquent the man can be.

“To get my thoughts in order,” Nigel says eventually. He turns then, and gifts Isaac with a small smile of his own. “I'm sorry,” he adds. “I don't mean to bring the mood down. This time of year just tends to draw the melancholy out of me.”

Isaac sits back a little, surprised. “It does?” he asks. “You seemed quite happy when we–”

Too late, he remembers what happened the last–and only–Christmas they spent together. The mistletoe, the liaison, the long-awaited kiss in the shed. Nigel must know what thoughts cut off Isaac's words and he smiles again, but now that Isaac can see his eyes it's obvious that the expression isn't genuine. Indeed, if anything, it just makes Nigel look even more sad.

“I'm sorry,” Nigel repeats. “It's just… old memories, that's all. I promise you, Isaac, I value your friendship a great deal, and I'm very glad to have it.”

Isaac knows him well enough now to know that he's being sincere, but he can also tell that there are things Nigel is holding back, too. Kept locked away and secret behind his sad eyes and carefully worded answers; kept silent and unspoken for as long as Isaac refuses to hear them.

And there's the catch, really; there's the rub. Isaac does hear them, and perhaps always has. It's just taken a lot longer than any man should need to endure for Isaac to really understand what they mean. And by some miracle that Isaac is sure he doesn't deserve, Nigel did–and does–endure it, and likely always will.

“As I'm glad to have yours,” Isaac tells him, and gets another, sweeter smile in response. It warms Isaac down to his bones, and gives him the courage to do what he'd come out here to do in the first place.

He doesn't really know why it feels so much harder now than it did before; surely the second time should be easier, since he's already had something of a practice run. But the weight of everything that’s happened between them hangs heavy in the air, and the full knowledge of what he's admitting to, and accepting, is almost overwhelming.

I like you, he'd said the first time. A vague and somewhat childish statement, for a vague and somewhat childish feeling, made by a version of himself who, despite an existence that spanned centuries, was likewise rather childish and vague himself. Please don't make me say it again, he’d added, when Nigel looked equal parts confused and hopeful, unsure of what Isaac really meant.

But Isaac is not that man anymore, and neither is Nigel. Childish and vague are the opposite of what he wants this second time to be. Second and last, if he does this correctly. If he's right about the nature of the secrets Nigel keeps so close to his chest.

“Nigel,” he starts. He stares at his hands, unsure if he can look Nigel in the eye for this.

“Yes, Isaac?”

Isaac opens his mouth to speak, but no sound comes out. His jaw works but his throat does not, closing up and choking off the words he'd planned so carefully to say. Nigel just looks at him, however, and doesn't rush him; patient in a way he wasn't before, when Isaac’s denials prompted him to walk away.

You're not that man anymore, Isaac reminds himself. And neither is he.

“I love you,” Isaac says. It's a simple statement, simply said, but what it conveys for both of them is immense.

Nigel stares blankly for a moment, before the words sink in and his eyes go wide. He looks more shocked than when Isaac proposed, and his voice is faint when he stutters, “W-what?”

“I love you, Nigel,” Isaac repeats. He takes a steadying breath, then says the rest of what he prepared to say. “I think perhaps I always have; I just didn’t really know it until now. Perhaps I wasn't ready to. But… after everything I've done, and how much I hurt you, I'll understand if you no longer feel the same wa–”

He's abruptly cut off when Nigel's lips crash into his, Nigel's hands cradling his face like he's holding something precious, palms shaking against Isaac's cheeks. Isaac kisses back, unable to stop himself even if he wanted to–and he doesn't want to, not now and not ever.

And that, really is the heart of the matter. Because for them, forever is not just a trite little phrase, to be uttered in the heat of the moment or woven into vows that only last a single lifetime. For them, it's a real and true commitment, with real and true consequences that both of them understand all too well.

And now, it's a promise made and accepted. Because when Nigel pulls back and meets Isaac's gaze, every secret he'd kept hidden away is revealed in full in those wide green eyes, as arresting now as when Isaac first saw them through a spyglass more than 250 years ago. More arresting, really, because now they look at Isaac with clear joy and love spilling from them unhindered, and Isaac can only hope his own eyes mirror even a fraction of the same emotion, because he certainly feels it, in every single part of himself. In his chest, tight with happiness; in his stomach, fluttering with relief; in his heart, swelled to bursting with–

“I love you, too, Isaac,” Nigel says. He strokes Isaac’s cheek and stares at him with something like wonder on his face. “Always.”

Isaac leans in and kisses him again, soft and gentle, taking his time. He doesn't need to say anything more; the look on Nigel's face confirms that he understands what Isaac is offering him now, as well as Nigel's own answer to it. But if this really is the last time he’ll do this–with Nigel, or with anyone–Isaac wants to make it count.

"Always, Nigel,” Isaac confirms. Promises. Vows. “And forever, too.”

#nisaac #cbs ghosts #my fic #will be moved to AO3 sometime after New Year's #Suggestions for a title are welcome

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