#did I put too much thought into this? yes

[woso-dreamzzz]

Helper:Christmas

Arsenal Women x Child!Reader

Summary: Christmas with Guppy

"I...I don't understand. What's...What's going on?"

"Just keeping holding it up," Codi whispers to Rosa, who looks like she's about to lower the tinsel that she's holding up.

"I don't get it. What's going on?"

"We're decorating the tree."

"No, I get that. But why are we holding it up in a line?"

On her other side, Leah huffs. "Because Lia's raising a kid who doesn't like mess and gets freaked out by Christmas trees. Ow! Lia!"

Lia's elbow, none too kindly, digs a bit further into Leah's ribs.

"Don't make fun of her!" She snaps, imaginary hackles raised in annoyance at Leah's dismissal before turning to Rosa to explain, much more kindly. "Guppy...She gets a bit overwhelmed about this kind of stuff and these cretins like to go overboard until the tree's a big mess. So, Guppy gets to pick the theme and then we all decorate. Leah's exaggerating."

"I'm just saying! Maybe exposure therapy will be good for her! I love her, Lia, I do. You know that. But you have to admit, this-"

Lia whips her beads at Leah in annoyance.

"Alrigh! Alright! I get it! Sorry!"

Lia's not finished though as she points to practically everyone in line in turn. "None of you are allowed to talk about that kind of stuff while y/n's in the room too, do you understand? She's sensitive and I'm not letting any of you make it worse!"

"I think they get it," Mario intervenes quickly," No one wants to make her feel bad."

Rosa's kind of glad that Mariona did. She's never seen Lia angry before. Annoyed, yes. Overtired, yes. But never angry. Not truly anyway but she's heard how protective Lia gets over you.

You're not really an oddball. You're not overwhelmingly weird either. But something that Rosa's noted is that you're very particular. She's never met a child so particular in her life. You like things done in a certain way.

You get all fidgety and anxious if you're not allowed to do things in the way you want and tend to start things over if it hasn't gone perfectly. You flick the lights on and off twice in whatever room you leave and you always knock on doors twice.

Rosa's seen you on the team bus, getting Lia to buckle and unbuckle your seatbelt twice over just before the bus sets off to whatever away match they need to get to.

You're just...

Different.

It's clear that Lia knows that too and a lot of her energy is put into making sure no one makes you think that you don't fit in.

"Alright!" Kim comes in holding your hand and from what Rosa strains to hear from Mario and Lia's conversation, this is normal too.

Kim helps you pick out the theme.

You both whisper together, Kim clearly going along with your childish wonder and happiness. She crouches down at your side as you look between Rosa and Kyra's tinsel.

Rosa's holding a red one and Kyra's holding a gold one.

Kyra wiggles it enticingly in your face but your features all scrunch up at once as you move away from Kim to take Rosa's hand and then to choose Codi and her matching green tinsel as well.

"Alright," Kim says," And what about baubles?"

"Er..." You look at the rest of the team and all the baubles they hold up to you, suddenly overwhelmed with choices.

You look at Leah's glittery baubles and shake your head.

"Not-Not glitter ones."

Then you catch sight of Lia and Mario, immediately breaking away from Kim to go crashing into them.

"Mummy!" You gasp," You bought the special beads from home!"

Wound around what looks to be an old piece of cardboard, is a long string of silver beads.

"I did," Lia says," Because our tree is too little for them this year. I thought we could use them on the Arsenal tree."

You nod, head bobbing up and down happily before you also take Mario's hand, dragging her into your little group of chosen people without even looking at the bauble in her hands.

"Nah!" Leah complains," This is so unfair! Why can't I be chosen?"

"Because you clearly didn't choose a good bauble this year," Beth teases," Not like me."

"Not Beth's bauble either," You say to Kim.

"Wait...What? Come on, come back!"

Decorating the tree is a team effort because while you may have been the one to make your selection, you're much too small to decorate it all by yourself and Rosa's found herself with you on her shoulders as you strain to put a candy cane onto the tree.

"Careful," Lia warns her," Keep straight or she'll fall."

"Rosa's doing fine," Steph says," And it's not like Guppy is going to start throwing herself around. She's very responsible."

"I am, Mummy!" You say," Very responsible! I helped Mrs Gina find the missing gluestick lid yesterday!"

So, Lia ends up worrying from a distance and insists on being the one to lift you up so you can put the star on the tree before letting you down and leading you from the room without any more preamble.

"What's happening now?" Rosa whispers as it looks like everyone starts sitting down on the floor in a little circle that she has no option but to join.

"Lia's been doing this since Guppy was born," Caitlin explains," We're getting presents now. It was pretty cute the first time, little gifts in baby y/n's hands. It was her handprint the year she was born and then it was like little keychains? She's old enough to give them out by herself now."

The present Rosa gets is kind of soft and squishy and it doesn't rattle or anything when she holds it up to her ear and shakes.

"No opening until Christmas!" You say once everything's been given out and everyone's attention is on you," Because that ruins the surprise! You can only open them on Christmas!"

The little Arsenal teddy bear you got her sits on Rosa's desk for the rest of the season.

[gravegoer]

DADS FRIEND SEVIKA.... need her... sneaking around w her and stuff , possibly hcs

Secrets 𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚

i keep saying this but this is one of my favorite tropes... your age gap with her i tried to make somewhat reasonable so its not too extreme, and NOT ILLEGAL , and yes this is hcs kinda i guess. summary: sevika is your dads best friend, and your secret gf...

masterlist , mild nsfw

Sevika never had feelings for you up until the day you got back from collage. You seem to have matured more, at least in her eyes. But to your dad, you were still his little girl.

That's why she felt guilty for the thoughts she was starting to harbor for you. She supressed them as much as she physically could, but the way you looked at her and interacted with her made it near impossible.

The way you brought her water when she was all sweaty and dirty from helping your dad work on his car, your soft eyes meeting hers with a smile on your lips. It was so innocent yet you were drawing her in perfectly.

When you sat on the counter of the kitchen, engaging in conversation with her and your father she eyed the way your plush thighs contrasted against the marble.

You knew she liked you, and you felt the same way, for a long time actually, even when she didnt spare you a glance.

So you made sure to hug her a little tighter, and a little longer before she left. Looking up at her through your eyelashes, and delivering an innocent peck on the cheek.

At family gatherings you would let her pull out your chair for you, making sure she noticed the curve of your ass as you sat down.

Finally, she had enough.

When you were helping her bring boxes into the attic you had your back almost flush to her as you bent over to set down a large box.

"You know what you're doing"

Sevika grunted, pulling you into her warmth and slamming her lips into yours. She wasn't surprised in the slightest when you didn't bother retaliating and pulled her in closer.

The only thing that was holding her back is the scorn of your family. What would they think?

But it obviously wasn't holding her back, as for the next few weeks before you could speak to her in private again, she was always shooting you small glances and smirks.

And of course, you always returned them, brushing a hand down her toned arm when your dad wasn't looking, then switching to a firm pat when he turned around.

About three weeks later was the first time you guys could converse (kind of) privately, away from the rest of your family. She had told your father that she wanted to take you out on a 'girls' night.'

You knew better.

Your face flushed red when she asked right in front of you, knowing your dad would happily agree, overjoyed that his best friend and daughter were spending more time together.

To your surprise, she did take you out, on a nice dinner. You talked for a long time about your feelings for each other, it was mostly Sevika nodding and grunting in agreement. (Sometimes face palming at your eagerness.)

She took you to her home, more specifically, her room. She showed you what you were missing out on in college.

Sevika's hands are definitely more experienced than the women you were with previously, her calloused palms circling your hips and tracing your inner thighs.

You rode her thick thigh as she pressed a finger to your clit, cooing into your ear. She helped you ride out your orgasm until your head was resting on her shoulder, eyes slipping closed.

Sevika pushed your head back.

"Have to get you home at the curfew your dad set, yeah?"

You groaned, remembering your dad wanted you back by 11 PM for dinner. Your whole body protested as she lifted you from your position, helping clothe you.

You felt like a newborn deer, just learning how to walk, as you limped to the bathroom to freshen up.

When you finished, you came back to Sevika on the edge of the bed, her legs spread, and a cigarillo between her scarred lips.

You almost jumped into her lap at the sight before she got up, putting a hand on your waist to lead you to the door.

When you got home, you headed straight to your room, unable to look your dad in the eyes so soon. You could hear his and Sevikas' conversation.

"Yep, took good care of her alright."

From then on you both vowed to never let your family find out, not anytime soon anyway.

When nobody was looking, she would deliver a smack to your butt, but you were unable to do anything when she immediately delved into conversation with your father.

Sometimes, she slept over if she stayed a little too late, and you would visit her in the guest bedroom, trying your best to stay quiet. (Her hand is always over your mouth)

She slings her arm around your shoulder, and nobody thinks anything of it, but you see her small smirk.

When Sevika's fixing your sink, you sit on the counter above her while she lays on her back on the floor, reaching up to fiddle with the pipes. You can't see her upper half, but what you can see is her V line peeking out from under her shirt.

If she saw you bringing any friends over, she would raise an eyebrow before you reassured her with a wave and smile.

But she would still hover around the door of your room to make sure.

Your father trusts you going over to her home, so you linger there often, a lot of your clothes and other items litter her bedroom and bathroom

She appreciates the constant reminder of you.

kinda short??

taglist: @thequeenreaders @hangezoes-wife @thesecondhandwoman @slut4sevika @archangeldyke-all @kylorey25 @sylencr @jinxjinxjinx12 @morphids @aizawasbaeee @ariya13 @tiyawnyana @n39ro-chann

[bringbackmaes14]

My mom has her TV on in her room almost 24/7 and it's always on some news outlet or other. We talk a lot about politics and world/national/local events. And we do have a lot of varying views on a lot of things but we're both adults who are capable of saying "well we've both stated we have differing opinions and it's clear that we're actually arguing at this point and not just talking so let's put away the topic for now." But there are also other times where I'm just too overwhelmed by my own life to think about what's going on in the bigger world around me, so my mom knows to be hesitant to bring up news stuff with me (i.e. she doesn't just start talking about politics/world events with me rather she'll ask if I'm in the mindset to discuss things when she wants my opinion on something). This is all relevant.

We've always been able to talk about nearly everything from the economy to the school system to human rights to human tragedy and we've never tried to censor ourselves around each other (outside of getting too emotional with our language). But about two weeks ago when the United Healthcare CEO was assassinated, my mom, who is in her 50s, came to me and she said "Did you see that the CEO of United Healthcare got unalived?"

And I just sat there and looked at her completely confused and she was like "did you not hear about it? It's all over the news. It happened in clear view on the street." Like the problem was that I hadn't heard of the event not that my Gen-X mother had just in a real life conversation said the word "unalived".

And I told her as much. "Yes I've heard that. Why did you say 'unalived' instead of 'murdered'?

And she told me that she just thought that since I'm touchy about heavier topics sometimes (which is definitely true, that does occasionally happen) she thought it would be better to just not use the "heavy" words. I asked her if she realized, honestly, how stupid that was because regardless of the word she used, she was still talking about a murder, it didn't change the subject matter, she was only making the subject matter seem less significant and severe by changing the word to baseless internet lingo that a bunch of misguided, clout-chasing influencers spread.

She hadn't. She's doesn't use the Internet replacement words a lot, online or otherwise. This was a first. She thought this was a different situation, and a fine one to use it in, and like the above stories people shared, it's still not.

I'm allowed to say there are days where I want to avoid heavier topics because I'm overwhelmed. I'm allowed to not ever really discuss certain topics because they actually trigger me based on my own experiences. But people who are out here living their whole lives like just talking about about difficult or controversial topics, or asking questions about it, or enjoying media where it's portrayed (especially when it's actually portrayed respectfully) are being ridiculous, and they're handicapping themselves. They're never going to learn how to talk about hard things, or how to handle hard things. And honestly I feel bad for them.

Luckily, in my case, once I explained why my mom saying what she said was incredibly weird and honestly devaluing to the conversation, she backtracked and told me that (like I said above) she doesn't talk like that regularly and she has no intention to start; it's just that this was a huge news event and that day had been particularly rough for me emotionally and she wasn't sure how to approach it. So her intentions were good and I'm very lucky that she understands and also agrees that the Internet censorship language is incredibly unnecessary.

we have GOT to kill tiktok/twitter self-censorship i just witnessed a grown adult say the word “smex” out loud to our professor

[zaim8778]

Fenton Crime Family

-Wayne Manor, Gotham-

Stephanie: So no one is gonna ask why Cass has been out so much lately? Alone too.

Duke: Didn't she say she is going out to meet a friend?

Stephanie: Yeah, but no one knows where she goes. We don't know who she goes out with nor do we know where she goes.

Tim: Just say that you are jealous that Cass is going out without you. No will make fun of you.

Jason & Duke: That's a lie.

Tim: Yeah, that's a lie. I would totally make fun of you.

Stephanie: Shut up nerd. Don't pretend you are not jealous when Bernard or Conner says that they are hanging out with someone else.

Tim: Woah there. Jason is the nerd one. If you want to insult me, at least use the correct one.

Jason: I want to be mad but you're not wrong.

Damian: Tt, why should we bother who Cain goes out with? It is her choice who she wishes to be her companion.

Stephanie: But aren't you curious even a little bit? Who is the person? Where do they go? Are they friends or something more? There are so many questions and yet so little answer.

Bruce: We should give Cass some room for herself. Letting her form a relationship outside of this household is also good.

Everyone: *Stares at Bruce*

Jason: I think the old man is being mind controlled. Let me punch him to wake him up.

Dick: Are you sick, B? Do you want to go to Dr. Leslie? I can take over your patrol tonight if you are not feeling well.

Damian: I also agree with Todd. Father might be compromised right now. Let's take him down.

Tim: Wait wait. Do you have anything to say before we jump you Bruce?

Bruce: *Grunts* I went to meet the therapist that Jason recommended to me. Dr. Fenton says that I should give my children room to grow independently so that I can take the first step in treating my paranoia.

Jason: *Gasp* You actually went to meet the therapist. Fuck.

Stephanie: He he he, where is my 50 bucks? I told you he would go if you recommend it.

Jason: *Grumble while handing out 50 bucks*

Duke: So that's where you are going. I thought you were going on a date.

Bruce: I am too old for dating anymore.

Dick: Yeah, right. Tell that to me when you go meet Selina later tonight.

Bruce: *Grunts*

Alfred: *Walks in* I am here to inform that Miss Cassandra has returned.

Dick: She's not gonna eat lunch?

Alfred: Miss Cassandra has informed me that she has eaten outside with her friend.

Jason: Did you see who her friend is? Is it a boy or a girl? Please tell me it's a boy.

Alfred: I'm afraid I cannot tell you anything as per my agreement with Miss Cassandra. What I can tell you though is that she is very happy to meet her friend. I suggest all of you don't disturb her happiness.

Stephanie: What? Boooo. I want answers. Timothy I choose you. Go find the answer using your stalker skills.

Tim: I would rather not anger her after what she did last time. All of my coffee mugs are still stuck on the table.

Duke: *Scoffs* You would probably go behind her back to find this friend anyway. You're just saying it in case Cass heard us.

Tim: I shall not confirm nor deny the accusation.

-Upstairs-

Cass lays on her bed after changing her clothes. It's been so long since she saw Danny. If not for the coincidental encounter at the stores, she wouldn't have known that Danny is in Gotham. After the first encounter, they exchanged phone numbers and talks and even met up often. Today is their first official date as a girlfriend/boyfriend.

Cass takes her phone to text Danny that she has reached home safely when she suddenly remembers something. She opens her gallery and puts the photos of her and Danny in a secure secret folder so that no one can find it.

While doing that, a text comes through.

Danny 💕💓💕

Danny: Hey Cass, are you home yet?

Cass: Yes. I just got home.

Danny: Thanks for the date today

Cass: 💖💖

Cass: Are you home yet?

Danny: Almost

Danny: Sorry gotta go. My sister is calling.

Cass: Get home fast. Love you 😘

Danny: I love you too 💖

Cass puts the phone on the bed and closes her eyes. Soon, she falls asleep and dreams of living in a large house with a lot of children running around.

-The Bowery, Gotham-

A young skinny man with black hair and blue eyes is walking down the quite alley slowly. He looks around him as the people of the Bowery look almost respectful but certainly fearful to him.

He sighs and leaves the sprawled bodies on the ground. They wouldn't die. He makes sure of that. A huge man comes within his proximity when suddenly the man bows down to him.

????: We are sorry, sir. These people are a new gang in the rise from the east. We get the news too late to send people to dispose of them.

Danny: Chill out, Jeff. Just take them to Dani and let her handle it. Also, tell her to return before dinner or else Jazz will come for her.

Jeff: Yes, sir.

The man along with a few of his henchmen pick the bodies and move them to somewhere else. To be honest, Jazz and Danny still don't know how to feel that their little sister is officially a crime lord.

All of them moved last month since Jazz gets her job at Arkham Asylum and Danny gets his internship at Wayne Enterprise. Dani tags along since she has explored all the places she wants to visit and she doesn't know what else to do.

Well that also didn't last long, as the first day they arrived at Gotham, Dani goes to beat up all the gang and goons in The Bowery and round them up into one single group. It's certainly easier that all the rouges are in Arkham right now.

One time the Falcon crime family tried to threaten Dani by taking Danny and Jazz hostage. In the end, Falcon and other crime families agree to stay out of The Bowery after Danny freezes all of their building and Dani strikes them with lightning multiple times.

Danny arrives home and sits on the couch. He scrolls Twitter while waiting for his sisters to return when the news catches his eyes.

Breakout at Arkham Asylum

All the people of Gotham are suggested to stay inside tonight.

Danny looks at the news with concern. Usually a breakout at Arkham happens a lot later in the day. He stands up, picks a leather jacket and a mask and then transforms into Phantom. He wears the mask and the jacket and flies towards Arkham Asylum to check out what happened. Today is Saturday so Jazz isn't working so he doesn't worry that much about Jazz.

On his way to Arkham, he encounters some rouge like The Riddler and Scarecrow. He knocks them out and hangs them on a poll and continues flying towards it. He's not a hero anymore but if the rogues are to enter and cause havoc in The Bowery, neither him, Jazz nor Ellie will be happy.

Suddenly, he sees a clown car speeding through the road at a very fast speed. Danny looks at it and sees the Joker along with his few goons are making a getaway while being chased down by a few cop cars. Danny flies down towards the clown car, and slowly unscrews the tyres of the car.

Danny flies back a little bit to the back and the clown car starts to wiggle and waggle and suddenly all of the tyres come off the car. Danny can hear the clown cursing heavily until finally they crash into a poll.He flies back down and just to make sure he is permanently down or at least down for some time, snap his back bone to incapacitate him.

Danny, still invisible, flies back up and continues on his way to Arkham. He meets a few more escapees like Mr. Freeze, Firefly and Killer Croc. Except for Killer Croc, all the other rouges are beaten up and sent back to Arkham. Killer Croc or Waylon is not thinking of causing trouble. He just wants to return to the sewer cause it is his home. Danny plans to maybe offer Waylon employment in their gang if he feels like Waylon is stable enough to work. Meanwhile, he will go around the city and beat up rogues that he is pretty sure is not going out to have a tea party.

When Danny lands on the roof, he opens his phone to see Cass is warning him to stay at home and not go outside. He smiles wryly since he is already outside and is beating up the rouges. Danny replies with a thumbs up and is about to continue flying when a shadow jumps out from behind him.

Danny: Uh, hello? How are you?

???: *Stares*

Danny: I'm no trouble. Just on the lookout just in case there is a rouge nearby. I see some guy beat up Scarecrow and The Riddler on my way here. They are not so scary when they don't have anything to use you know.

???: Where?

Danny: Errr, I think it is right over there. I was coming from that direction so you would probably see them if you go this way.

???: Thank you.

The shadow then vanishes and Danny is left standing there. The shadow really reminded him of Cass for some reason. Looking up online, apparently that one is called Black Bat.

Danny: Huh, they are out early today then. I guess they can work during the day.

Danny then turns invisible and returns back to the Bowery because most of the notorious rogues have been captured and Danny isn't worried about the rest.

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

My Favorite Thing

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: Your comfort item gets lost on a hunt, and the boys try to help you

“Stop the car!”

Dean slammed on the breaks, turning the Impala to the side of the road before whipping around in his seat to see what was wrong.

“What happened? Are you hurt? What’s wrong?”

“I can’t find Willow!” You exclaimed. “We have to go back to the motel!”

“Jeez, kid.” Dean let out a huge sigh of relief. “I thought you were dying or something. Don’t scare me like that!”

“We have to go back, it’s an emergency!”

“Kid, your little toy thing is not an emergency,” Dean said.

“Are you sure you didn’t just leave it in your other bag?” Sam asked.

“Yes I’m sure, I always put it right here, and it’s gone!”

“It can’t be at the motel,” Dean argued. “I remember you had it right before we went after that vamp. You must’ve lost it on the hunt.”

“Well then we have to go find it. Please, Dean,” you begged.

Dean sighed, swinging the Impala into a u-turn. “Let’s see if we can find it.”

…

Two hours later, and still no luck.

“Kiddo, we’ve gotta get going,” Dean spoke up reluctantly. “There’s a case in the next state over and we really should try to get there before dark—“

“We can’t just give up!” You cried.

“We looked everywhere honey,” Sam cut in. “There’s nothing else we can do. Maybe we can find you another—“

“No, no you can’t just find another one!” You yelled. “You don’t get it, you don’t even care!” You were racing away from the boys before either of them had a chance to respond.

“What was that?” Dean demanded.

“I don’t know,” Sam sighed. “But she was headed toward the Impala. Let’s go.”

…

“Hey sweetheart.” Dean’s greeting did nothing to pull you out from the way you’d cocooned yourself in the Impala’s backseat.

Sam eased the door open and slid in next to you, patting your knee that was curled up against your chest.

“N/N, talk to us. You ok?”

“Dad gave it to me.” Your voice came out in a high-pitched whimper. “And I lost it.”

“Oh kid…” Dean climbed into the front of the Impala, reaching over the back of the seat and tilting your chin up. “Dad would understand, ok? It’s ok.”

“No it’s not!” You sniffled. “You have the Impala, and Sam has dad’s journal…I don’t have anything of his. I wanted to at least keep something he gave me.”

Dean suddenly slipped out of the Impala, but you didn’t have time to notice it because Sam spoke up.

“Honey, it’s not about the stuff he left behind. He taught you so much that you’re gonna carry with you, and you don’t need a toy to remember that.”

“I…I guess,” you sniffled. “But I wanted it.”

“Commere…” Sam pulled you into his arms, planting a kiss on the top of your head. “I’m sorry we couldn’t find it. I know that meant a lot to you.”

“Here it is—“ Dean’s voice caught your attention as he returned, holding a bundle that he’d retrieved from the trunk. “I think dad would want you to have this.” Dean pressed the fabric into your hands, and you held it up to reveal John Winchester’s favorite jacket.

“It’s never gonna fit,” you argued dubiously.

“Who cares?” Dean shrugged. “I heard jackets six sizes too big are the trend now.”

You giggled through your tears as you slipped your arms through the massive sleeves. The sleeves hung down several inches past your fingers, but you didn’t seem to mind as you hugged the fabric around you.

“Thanks, Dean,” you said.

Dean grinned.

“Any time, kid.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley @deadlymistletoe @wayward-impala83 @whump-loverz @johannelis2302nely @studiogrimm810

[corneredcopia]

Little ramble analysis of the haircut scene for funsies

Starting off strong with stone putting the rose in Rob’s mouth….i don’t think I’ll ever recover from this image it carries so much fiery tension you can feel it through the screen. What else would I have to say here? That they have their own telenovela roleplay going on? Yes. Yes I think so. And the way Rob’s gaze shifts to stone 🧍

HELLO THAT INSANE GRIP? Forearms out and everything woaw. Callback to my last post like chill stone. I love how you can also tell while watching these scenes that Ivo barely puts up a fight so stone is just being freaky for no real reason other than the intimacy of it all. (Esp when later is seems stone is exerting too much pressure on Ivo and he yelps—Rob trusts him that much to allow stone to be rough with him…they really are freak 4 freak ❤️) Then Stone just ripping off the goggles so fast in this image like this guy is WAY too excited 🌝

I think if you showed these next two images to a stob shipper back in 2022 they’d go into cardiac arrest. Seriously. The way Stone just launches him back and climbs over him 🤒 Robottomnik is real ig. (Can’t wait to get this shot in HD)

So Stone is fully looking at Rob’s lips in this one…like bffr his gaze is so obvious, it’s not on Ivo’s scalp :) He finally has the chance to unabashedly stare at the other man’s lips bc Rob isn’t paying attention after having to avoid his gaze for years….ijbol I guess Rob DID want him on his lap. God and the way he CRADLES HIS HEAD? Like at what point does this not get out of hand bc that angle cannot be efficient for shaving his hair.

And lastly the gentler moments, where at least Stone’s freak is toned down. I imagine after having to maintain that unruly mane for Ivo for so long he’s reveling in the feeling of the clean scalp. In a sense he was able to shed the weight off of Rob and bring him back to his former glorious self. Notice how he was rough with the hair, but without it he was gentler? But Ivo….oh Ivo looks absolutely blissed out 😭 also the sneaky side glance to the camera from Jim in the second pic…we get it—it was ur idea to have specifically Lee, as Stone, cut Rob’s hair in such an intense way…thank you Jim🙏 And again…cradling his head akbdjdifkrnd

Final thoughts: ❤️😍😍🫶🫶🫶🫣🫣🫣😊😊😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵👀👀🫂🫂🫂🫂🥚🪨🥺🔞🔞🔞

[chlmtsdoll]

omg i kinda need a fic of babysugar!reader getting corrupted by patrick alone bcs their tension is js amazing 😩 like yes pls tease her more when art and tashi is away…. god knows what happen

Loveddd writing that tension in nothing without you omg ur so right anon. What could happen when mean Patrick gets poor reader all alone ? Hmmm…

౨ৎ warnings: 18 + smut, p in v (unprotected sex), oral (m reviving), degradation kink, manipulation and heavy corruption, teasing, mentions of Art and Tashi throughout, short reader (size kink 🎀)

You begged Art and Tashi every day prior to the tennis awards ceremony to let you be their plus one for the night even if it was just once. You’d never got to get as pretty as you did for them to the outer public all too often, when you had really been just their own little secret for when the cameras were away and the couple was safe at home.

So you should of known better that you, their adorned little sugar baby, would be left alone for the night — but fortunately, with the keys to their estate in New Rochelle.

Having the place all to yourself was a apart of the allowance the couple gave you when they had to attend to press conferences or tournaments they had limited space to bring you along. And you never complained when the grounds of their beautiful mansion was left to you to do anything you wanted or absolutely nothing for however long they’d be gone.

And with the silence that coursed through the place — most girls your age with the privilege would throw parties or call up friends to fuck up the gorgeous abode. But not you. You’d stay put on the couch, being as pleasant as ever. Never making a mess, and only ever watching movies if you weren’t studying for upcoming midterms.

You were so good for Art and Tashi, so much to you’d almost forgotten the words of ‘left a little surprise for you on the guest bed.. just for when we get back.” Art mentioned to you with a dotting wink and smirk to what could be waiting for you before fixing his tie to run out with his wife. Even the thought of those little gestures of how they’d spoil you, come home to play with their perfect girl, seeing you all dolled up waiting for them at home made you flustered to your core even in the empty house.

You’d been ready to run upstairs just to see what it was Art had left for you — but that being just before there was a disturbance brought to the front door.

When you got up and tucked your feet into your slippers before minding to get it, you undid all the locks on the grand door. Letting the breeze in with a swing, your eyes went wide too quickly when the brunette with a menacing grin that stood beyond you looked up from his cracked phone to eye you down just outside the doorway.

Patrick stood in the cold of the night and you couldn’t have pushed to shut the door any faster.

“Hey, hey ! What the fuck is your problem.. ?” He spat as his hand rejected the way you attempted to shut him out without even a pitch, his grip beating yours on instant as he pushed the door open wide enough for him to invite himself inside aways.

You closed your eyes with a sigh of annoyance. One thing you did know is to avoid the daring man at all cost. Weather with Art and Tashi around, or when it was just the two of you — Patrick was a man of way too many words. Always teasing, picking on you like a sworn bully just because he could. Because it was amusing to him to try and snip on the pigtails of the pretty, much younger and energetic play thing his best friends kept around. And with you being just too full of admiration of the couple and anyone who was a friend of theirs — it just stained your poor little heart what the patronizing man put you through. To have to despise his presence.

“Why are you here ?” You spoke with furrowed eyebrows, voice timid and more serious as you tried to hide behind the front door, towering you, he made his way through the floor like he owned it, letting his denim jacket slip from his arms.

“What ? The couple leave you to color or whatever you do here alone ?” He scoffed, grin on his face mocking your fuzzy cardigan you kept on your shoulders to trying making you feel small for your shorter size as always. Although There was always an obvious flirtation to his teasing — the two sidedness of Patrick being mean as way to get girls just like you to do whatever he pleased always confused you. It was alarming. Like he’d want you to feel cornered and vulnerable so he could have his true way.

However he wanted.

“Awards ceremony. Why are you here?” You repeated yourself again and shutting the door with a lock, before you turned to face Patrick already making himself as comfortable as he pleased.

“For grown up stuff, baby doll. You wouldn’t get it.” He totally means trying to hang out with Art and Tashi, or bug them to hang out with him. “You really here by yourself?”

You nodded a bit and took in the darker haired man walking towards the living area. “Yes… and I don’t need a babysitter. They aren’t here so you’re welcomed to go.”

Patrick chuckled a bit as he looked down at you over his shoulder. “Do you ever relax ? I mean, fuck... Why don’t you.. sit with me. Keep company ? Just till they get back- - I know you don’t actually wanna be all alone, do you ?”

You folded your arms, tough pout forming on your lips. You just knew how this would go by now. How it always went.

Patrick would lure you an excuse just so he could try and have a go at what Art and Tashi got from you. Which was a complete different story the man who knew nothing of boundaries had no business being apart of. But it was just in Patricks nature to have what he couldn’t. The treat you are for them. Gorgeous and full of youthful energy after big games — Tashi had you give her husband the most dutiful back massage, an intimate time that would end up with you on your back some where in the echoing mansion, as the blonde got to fuck the purest moans out of you.

And all Patrick did was yearn for that use of you. It was what he devotedly wanted behind all his gimmicks. “No thanks.” You settled for with a moment of building courage to just say that to the man. You knew he’d have some words to spew back in defense regardless.

He chuckled. “Why so tense? A movie or two won’t hurt you.. or are you just scared I’ll bite?” You notice his hand along with his words, patting his thigh once he sat leaning against the cushioned seat to send a beacon call your way, and you just batted your eyes away.

“I have better things to do.”

“Bullshit. You just want to run off and what..?” His eyes scan your figure, he chuckled. “Touch yourself till Art and Tashi get back?” The man began and with a flustered heat rising to your face, you made a putrid expression of disgust before turning away from him without another word to say, your hair swung behind you as you muttered how ignorant the brunette was and he sat pleased with himself there in the living room behind you. Your ears couldn’t even endure anymore of his objectification. And you didn’t bother shooting a text to Art and Tashi that Patrick had stopped by for whatever reason because they’d surely be knee deep in talking with tabloids and press at this hour.

So, as a way to have as little interaction with the man as you could — you continued up the stairs to the near guest room where your small but lovely left gift from Art was waiting. With a little sideways smile returning to your expression, you shut the door softly behind you so the man downstairs didn’t bother. Your fingers laced through the silky bow holding it all together. This fabricated box you unraveled to reveal the new pretty edition to your wardrobe of wondrous pieces the couple spoiled you with.

A set of lingerie all dainty you were sure you’d be quite at home in for the next couple of days just for Art to toy with, only then sharing the way your heavenly hips would fit it with his wife.

Your grin spread at just the thought of their hands on you. Praising and cooing like the sheer temptress you were. A soft “oh.. you’re getting special treatment.” softly purred through your lips as you took in the lace garment and immediately shed off your comfy clothes.

You knew how much the couple valued their privacy and especially when it came to you. Their perfect little secret for behind all the cameras and sports media. Your body ? Their choice. It was part of the agreement you made when you came into their lives to be their after match sugar baby. And you did honor and respect that in every way — but as your painted finger tips taped against your phone in thought, it crossed your mind that a few pictures in the tiny panties couldn’t hurt if you kept them to yourself.

So in just a few moments you were on the bed. Only the light colored patches of fabric over your nipples covering you up, thong stretched thin across your ass and garter strap ruffling around your thigh felt nice and familiar. You felt your prettiest like this — dolled up and with the expectation to please the star couple whenever they got home.

You reached across the bed where you left your phone and that’s when you opened up your camera app. You let your body do the natural work it’s used to — posing for your own revealing string of teasing selfies. One’s you used to take for random guys before Tashi had you be ready for a face time at any moment while they were away and you couldn’t tag along, demanding you spread your legs and show her husband what he’d get to have after a grand slam. (If he made one) thanks to you he always did.

You were placing your phone at vigorous angels as you switched poses with a sugary smile being the only detail of your face in the photo. Too unfortunate your sweet doe eyes wouldn’t make the cut. You glide your fingers with pink painted tips innocently against your bottom lip as you turned your smile into a naughty little grin soon enough to the light of the camera. You couldn’t help but let your playfulness shine through, even in the set that was simply too tiny for a good reason.

You were having a bit of fun with yourself really. And your body is one to be confident in, feeling like the adorned little thing you were — that was until your phone was being dropped automatically the second you heard “holy shit” being croaked from the door frame.

Patrick was grinning like an idiot as he watched your now mortified expression turn bashful quick. You stashed yourself underneath a corner of the covers, “Patrick- what the hell !?” He’d already been laughing as he let himself fully in the bedroom while you’d been quietly cursing to yourself with a palm to your brow. Frustrated and guilty already, you avoided making eye contact with Patrick in preparation for the week you were about to have of him miking this to patronize you.

“So you were feeling naughty, huh ?” He chuckled and one of his hands go from his jean pocket to scratch against his untamed beard that framed his haughty smirk. He inched over to were you’d gone completely flustered beneath the comforter. “Get out. Just- please..” you huffed although your voice was only as fragile as it usually was around the brooding man, you dropped your head along with your expression in shame and he only grinned a little wider.

Patrick stared at you with that smile before he made a grab and snatched up your phone before you could even jump to stop him. “Let me just take a quick check of how pretty you look before they’re turned in to Tashi and Art.” his thumb casually scroll through your exposing photos as you yelped for him to quit it, and he only kept you at a distance much too easily from his taller height.

“Give it! Patrick! It’s not funny- -” you whined as you ran in circles around the brunette and attempted countlessly to leap for your phone, but Patrick laughed on as he held it up where you just couldn’t get your legs to reach.

“Fuck I can’t wait to see the look on their faces when they see their perfect little princess sneaking in nudes...”

You already had tears building in your ducts. You just knew that if Art and Tashi found out you weren’t faithful to their promises, being careless especially around such a careless man — and letting your spite lead your decisions of keeping what they gave you just between them. It could all be over in an instant. They couldn’t know what you’ve done. How poorly you acted without thinking.

You finally give up on your fight with Patrick that had really been you flailing arms at your phone as he tosses it between his hands so you couldn’t grab it. He messed with you like a toy. Patrick lived to play cat and mouse, and you’d fallen right into the trap.

“Patrick, please. Don’t do this… those pictures can’t be shown to anyone. I need my phone.” You sniff as you looked up at the dark haired man with watery eyes and he stiffed finally as did you. Course, tight grip of your phone in his larger hand. You watched as his green orbs now ran over your state — vulnerable in the pink lace that he was absolutely not supposed to be seeing you in right now.

Nearly every inch of your skin was on display, tits sitting too pretty, and the way the lines of the lingerie lined your hips, made the corners of his lips curve into a snarky grin.

You were asking him, just once, not to be an asshole.

And with a low tone, he was bound to respond like an asshole.

“I kinda like it when you beg.” The man was looking at you with eyes of the pure hunger and all you could do was close your own in defeat as you sighed.

“You really are afraid of them finding out, aren’t you?”

You nodded with your lip between your teeth. “They can’t.. you can’t tell them. This never happened, Pat. Please.”

You softly echoed again, throwing in calling him by half his name just to keep your chances sweet that he would eventually comply. The man chuckled as his eyes trailed off for just a fine moment before his expression got serious.

“So say I didn’t. If I didn’t… what’s in it for me?”

You swallowed hard. Bating your eyelashes in a moment of contemplation on what he could perhaps want from you. You hadn’t thought this far — and you didn’t have a clue.

“I- um- ..well- - what do you want?” You peered up at the man again, and this time, his stupid smirk had once again been making a comeback.

He eyed you. Your flower covered bra, with just a tiny bow in the middle. Then you again. Then of course, back down to where your smooth hidden cunt had been behind the fabric of your panties. Till his eyes finally land back on you again with a idiotic kind of smile.

You had to take a minute to wrap your head around it all. His wordless declaration until your eyebrows knitted with uproarious fear when it clicked.

“No.” You uttered.

“Well.. yeah.”

“No. Patrick… anything else- -” you pleaded as you began to sniff again and the man cut you off.

Patrick stepped a little closer to you, your pouty expression followed his gaze as you anxiously toyed with your hair and he slowly examined your frame again.

“You want these pictures to stay between you and me, right ? You don’t want your precious sugar mommy and daddy to find out about you slutting around the house when they’re away. It would make them so upset with you if they found out….” He made his tone sympathetic and only a little less poisonous, you nodded as you folded your arms timidly. “Then you’ll do what you have to do so they don’t know… yeah ?”

You nodded and listened up to his rant of your own mistakes. He caught you at a draw. The man’s green met your gaze even when he narrowed to read your doubtful head and wondering little eyes at how much you’d just been desperate to be seen as good for them. Tilting his head some, you stepped back as he stepped forward.

“I know what you want.” Patrick rose his hand to let a finger slide underneath the strap of your bra. Your wide eyes looked up at his dark curls to match his pupils. Tongue darted out to lick at his lips, he knew you’d innocently be oblivious to his hunger stride. All you could do was let him pull the strap down your shoulder just as slow as he talked.

“Good girls have to do what’s right for everyone. And I know your a good girl.” His voice grew softer, but lustful as he was now far beyond in your space.

You syncing up with his overall musk of pine scented cologne, cigarettes and numerous college girls he’d pick up in bars lingering off his sent.

You did know how dangerously he could lead, and you didn’t need to find yourself in any more trouble at last — yet something in the way the heat from his body had been melting into your senses, how his eyes made you feel like an intoxicated prey. And hands that were roaming your little figure that made you feel obligated to return in his favors.

You looked at Patrick as he leaned forward to your level only to whisper at your ear. You felt shivers like electricity from his next words.

“So get on your knees and be good for me.”

Patrick pulled away as he’d been close enough for his lips linger over your exposed skin, you trembled from just his teasing hands on your waist and voice too much for you to escape.

You eyed the floor where your feet landed, a little quiver in your throat — but a kind of lustrous flutter now taking over instead. And like that, you had been gradually lowering yourself down on both of your knees.

The man still standing above you showed his teeth with his next sideways grin, watching your hair spill back as you craned your neck to gaze up at him through your lashes.

“How do you want me?” You question, voice sweet as it always was while you’d been at such a naughty view for the brunette. He had chuckled with a little groan as he looked over your angelic grace in the garment you’d been in, all with eyes wide and not one thought behind them of knowing of all he harsh ways he could treat you.

“That set is- - something else on you, pretty girl… why don’t you suck my cock in it, hm?” with calculated intentions behind all his cooing, Patrick had already taking a swift of your hair into a nice ponytail and your eyes went trailing to the fly of his pants before you, hands shakily going to where they were intended.

You could feel the brunette’s hooded eyes on you as you began unzipping the fly, fingers tug at the hem of his boxers like you’d been too scared to touch, not ready for what’s beneath. “C’mon, don’t be shy..” his tone almost haunting. He knew he’d had you practically on strings and you did comply, taking them down just enough so his cock had been on display, hard and getting harder by the second, you stared — a little whimper escaped your tightening throat at the way his tip rose with the width of your eyes.

You glance up at Patrick’s face again, diplomat expression taking over suddenly. “You swear… none of it leaves this room?”

The man scanned the door way briefly before returning your gaze with a prideful smile. “It dies at the door.”

You breathed deeply before your hands were bracing the back of Patrick’s thighs. Knees with no cushion, already pained from the floor boards — the smooth skin of your lips were being pressed to Patrick’s thick member, leaving just one kitten lick on his reddened tip before your mouth was full of it. The brunette watched you with lips agape as he slipped your phone into his back pocket and used his other to swoop up your loose locks.

Your mouth had hallowed on his cock as you began sucking on him with as much as you could take — with how full he’d been in you orally, light moans echoing in your throat, his tip hit the back of you and Patrick cursed. “That’s it, baby doll. Nice and slow,” he watched as your lips ran up and down his foreskin, coating him in your saliva as you whimpered through your wet sucking.

Your head bobbed on him, and the man let out low groans of his own as his head let back at your heavenly warmth around him. As you looked up at him, the way he reacted to your work was enough for you to think just when you thought you’d distracted him with your pleasures, your fingers were gliding from his thighs to his back pocket. Reaching for where he stuck your phone, but your wrist was abruptly stopped and the man made a ‘tskk’ sound as he removed your hand. “Nice try angel.. I wouldn’t do that again.” He muttered before taking matters into his own hands and pumping his cock down you throat at a rougher pace. You whined helplessly and adjusted yourself so you’d sat on your own feet beneath him.

Patrick had let out a deep moan as he fucked into your more than perfect little mouth that was stuttering on just how much you needed him to keep your dirty secrets. And you, all wanting nothing to do with him earlier — now had tears streaming down your face as you whimpered and gagged on his cock. Stroke after stroke had your finger nails digging into the man’s jeans, his eyebrows hitched with his breath as he observe your teary eyes and wide mouth taking him,

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.. you’re gonna make me cum.” The man grunted as you moaned and he pulled you off his dick with a knotted grip on your hair just in time as you coughed vigorously.

Wiping your puffy lips with a sniffle and eyes welled up with tears as you narrowed with a cry, Patrick grinned while he’d already been jerking his cock, “you’re doing so well for me. Now open up..” his voice husked as he pumped his throbbing cock through his orgasm, letting his tip rest on your tongue the second your mouth was wide enough to let ropes of his cum spill on to.

You didn’t feel the cleanliness, and maybe that didn’t matter, because as Patrick had been cooing praises to you while he released on your tongue, you soon realized you’d been sitting with a wet puddle of your own.

“You know, while we’re at it, I can help with that..” Patrick nodded at the way you checked yourself and your neck craned to look up at him again when you heard his voice.

“But- - Patrick, we shouldn’t.”

“The damage is already done weather you like it or not, baby doll. You can get a little fun out of this if you let yourself.”

You didn’t exactly know how to respond, with what you’d already done being far beyond a bargain but a total price to pay especially since Patrick used his power over you at best. And with the dark haired man standing there only halfway putting his ravishingly large dick away beyond you — just sitting there on the floor, nervously toying with your fingers with a ache sitting in your core. You knew that since you’d been there, letting Patrick make you cum was all you could think about now.

His smirk returned when you rose to your feet and eyed him before walking back over to the bed.

“Okay.” You uttered quietly as it was now your back turned to the taller man who followed you over like a shadow, and you knew to surrender by now.

“God you look good..” his hands examined wherever they pleased on you now. Patrick’s fingers slid from the top of your breasts to the dip of your lower back to your ass, that he squeezed tight, making a hiss escape from you. And even though you hit him in the arm and it left no damage as he grinned to himself, you still let him do it.

Maybe you were acting quite slutty.

“You said you would help me, not grope me…” you spoke up in a voice that made the man laugh at your ought to be stern.

“Well, firstly I think sweet girls like you should say please.” He beckoned as his tongue darts out to lick over his lip while he panned down at you. It may be a signal to the way his cock was beginning to stand again at the sight of your breast near getting lose within your bra from the aftermath of the way he just manhandled you.

Your eyes shift anywhere elsewhere than his gaze. “Please.”

“Please.. what ?” His hands wrapped around your neck to pull you close, and you yelped a tad, he chuckled at your annoyance, but enticing want towards him.

You looked into the mans daring eyes and going against your own rules, in desperate fashion, you begged. “Please.. make me cum, Pat.”

Patrick glanced where your panties had a darkened spot spreading, damp as he grinned before letting his hand slip beneath so he could feel the soaked parts — you immediately gasped softly as you watched where he toyed with your slit to find your folds. It was like he found where you needed most as if he’d been a pro. Observing as your lips make a fine “o” shape when his pointer and middle slid against your clit and your poor heavy eyes met his again.

“I know you loved having my cock down your throat.” He rasped with a sly smirk, you quickly grabbed his bicep. One of his fingers made it inside of you, feeling him fill you with just his thick digits had your eyes wanting to role and you hissed out a whimper immediately. But fuck that. Patrick already wanted you moaning as quick as possible.

He pushed your figure on the bed and you hit the sheets with a noise as the man hustled to get your last bit of cover up discarded. You noticed the way his cock bounced as soon as he saw your smooth cunt be revealed to him and your eyebrows furrowed when your ache grew, moaning slightly through your bitten lip.

“Patrick, please.. hurry.”

He took your legs under his grip rough as the flailed and he made sure they were as far apart as he needed to handle you, “keep these spread for me.” Was all the man said before aligning himself with your entrance and making sure your slick had covered his tip finely.

You whined as you viewed him do the work of getting himself coated with your pre-cum. Patrick couldn’t take his eyes off your pussy that just looked a little too pretty and smooth, you could tell his head was going full with need to fuck you senseless. So when he started to slide in your hole with a jarring “fuck” coming from him and you moaned out a more high pitched noise with knitted brows — you kept your hands on the back of your thighs for the brunette as he only gets halfway before he needed to readjust you and himself.

“Mmm.. you’re too big, Patrick.” Came from you as your chest slightly heaved and the brunette had a dumb grin on his face again while he looked down at how sweet you looked all spread out for him, letting him get your tight cunt after all of this. By now you’d surely forgotten about your little photos and just how much he could ruin what was between your legs at this point.

Patrick was thrusting into you with no hesitation, letting his grunts fill the room on top of your pathetic mewls as he kept your hips steady and against the thigh while you slid up and down his dick. Your hands dig into the bedsheets near your head as your lips go fully agape and your eyes are being pulled elsewhere with the euphoric sensation of Patrick’s hips slapping into your cervix, “Oh ! Oh… fuck,” you hiss as you can’t help yourself but watch the man’s shaft run against your wet walls when he grabbed hold of your wrists.

And with a impressed grin, Patrick saw your fixed gaze go from totally oblivious to just wanting to be tossed around like a whore for him.

“You gonna let Art and Tashi know how much of a good girl you were for me when they get home, right ? No issues. Just you doing whatever your told… right sweet girl ?” The man coo’d as he let up one hand from your arms to cup your chin. When your eyes met his dark ones, you’d been holding a dazed smile behind your bitten lip with a plea for him to keep going.

As he’d taken your little photoshoot to ending up deep inside your precious cunt with a few tactics of his own, your photos count on staying between you and him.

With a small nod and “uh hu” you let Patrick make you cum.

[nneteyamss]

ROSES — 19. FAWK

(partly written)

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y/n walked to the park, clutching her jacket closer to her body. the december air blew into her face making her cheeks red as she buried her face further into her scarf.

“why the fuck couldn’t i have picked somewhere warm… my ass should not be put in the cold at 8 o’clock at night.” y/n mumbled to herself, already regretting leaving her warm bed. from a distance she spotted intak seated on a bench, looking at his phone. he was bundled up in a big winter jacket and a scarf wrapped around his neck. yet he had hat, letting snow fall and stick to his black hair. intak suddenly looked up hearing y/n approach and stood to greet her.

“hey… thanks for meeting with me, sorry it’s cold.” guilt instantly ran through y/n’s body because he seemed nervous.

“sorry for making you wait, i don’t know why i picked outside..”

“no it’s okay, i just got here a couple minutes before you.”

y/n simply nodded, shoving her hands in her pockets. the silence was lasted as neither of the two said anything after that.

“uhm do you want to sit? i cleared the snow off the bench.” he gestures to the bench and she nods. they sit down and another awkward silence fills the air.

“so, what did you want to talk about?” y/n turns to him, breaking the silence.

“oh right! i wanted to apologize again about the other day. i shouldn’t have kissed you without asking or so suddenly like that.”

“i appreciate and accept your apology, but why were you there?”

“i don’t know how to explain this without sounding crazy but i knew jaehyun was going to be there, and i had a weird feeling he was going to try something. i came in disguise and i approached you because i saw him walking up to you” y/n started at him with a blank stare, processing what he just said.

“so you were stalking me?”

“well no… but yes? yes to an extent!” intak fumbled over his words, not expecting that question. he thought of it more as keeping an eye out on her for a space she knew the man she so says didn’t like was going to be in. now that she said it though, it kind of seemed like stalking. “sorry” he mumbled.

“your disguise was ass by the way, you should’ve asked shota for his fake mustache” she giggled looking ahead of her. the situation was getting too serious, and she felt the need to make it more lighthearted.

“no way… he said the SAME thing. how do YOU know about the fake stache?”

“i’m the one who bought it for him of course!”

“this is like a full circle moment, what the fuck.” the two laughed together at the moment. who would’ve ever thought that shota having a fake mustache would arise in this convo. however, the laughter eventually died down and intak turned serious. he turned to y/n and grabbed her hands, which were now out of her pockets.

“listen, i need to talk about the main reason i wanted to talk. please don’t say anything until i’m done.” he was dead serious, y/n nodded and pushed down any jokes she could’ve made in the moment. “we’ve been fake dating for a couple months now. we both know the original reason this started. but y/n… i really like spending time with you, like a lot. you’re funny, gorgeous, caring, and so much more. i didn’t plan it but i thought this was just gonna be some fun side quest activity. the more time i spent with you and got to actually know you and your personality, the more i started to actually like you. i tried to fight it off because i mean this relationship wasn’t real and i’m your brothers friend, but i can’t help it. i really… really want this to be real. we get along so well, and there’s a connection. what i really called you out here for was to ask this. i really really like you, could i have the honor of being your boyfriend?”

the long speech was followed by silence. one blink, two blinks, no words. embarrassment gnaws at intak who immediately started to regret asking out of fear of her not feeling the same. yet, he didn’t say anything and let her take her time.

“intak, i didn’t know you felt that way. i feel like this is very sudden though. i need to think about this before i answer, im so sorry” intak nodded and gave her hands a squeeze before letting go. “i’ll text you, i just need to think.” she said again before standing up.

“that’s okay” he gave her a small, yet warm smile. his cheeks were red and his hair was getting damp from the snow. y/n reached forward and pulled his jacket hat onto his head.

“you should get home before you get sick… it’s cold and you don’t have a hat.” the words left her mouth quietly, but intak still heard since the night was quiet was well.

“you should get back as well”

y/n nodded and put her hands back in her pockets, “i’ll see you.” she said and began making her exit of the park and going back home, leaving intak standing in the cold. by time she got in her car and started driving away, intak made his way to his car, waving as she backed out the parking spot.

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taglist (closed): @cloudmrk @yyangj3lly @vehaez @mmjhh1998 @gomdoleemyson @alethea-moon @jkslvsnella @starfilledgaze @solvrse @dudekiss3r @nattan127 @nerdsungie @lovesuhng @tokitosun @dokgrayson @222brainrot @jakeshuneybby @antifrggile @cyjzzl @nctseventeensworld @bloomyroses @doughyk @lovefooi @chaerinmin @chenlesfavorite @urlocalbeaner5 @thegracerammy @lionzyon @fairyoflia @haefelt @sunflowerbebe07 @seventeeneration @apolloxxivmin @onlyhyunjin @pinklemonade34 @adorwooks @angelpiixie @jkxlvrr @hisrkive @sunghoonsgfreal @zzurao @mango-bear @bee-the-loser @callita @lttlekomori @neozon3nha @calssunflower @natokkiz @joonsprettygf

notes: lalala guess who finished finals, passed all their classes, and got back to work again this week (i need to make all the money i can over break for psyfe and 127 concerts) 🙂‍↕️

[edinaanin]

Shit Stirrer: A great cause with a dash of irony

Jumping into my first blog post with Nicola!

Looking fresh, well rested, gorgeous and Christmas ready from - I'm assuming - her family's Galway living room, Nicola posted a photo of herself today wearing 1 of 8 specially designed "Saltburn Insults" t-shirts. These limited edition t-shirts were created by Carey Mulligan and Emerald Fennell (director) to both celebrate one year since the release of the movie Saltburn on Netflix and, more importantly, to help raise funds for War Child UK's "Emergency Christmas Appeal" fundraising efforts. War Child UK's single goal is to ensure a safe future for every child affected by war. This is a cause we know Nicola stands firmly behind! If you're interested in supporting this important cause, follow this link for the t-shirt Nicola is wearing... or scroll to the bottom of the Everpress page to see the other 7 "Saltburn Insults" t-shirts on offer: https://everpress.com/warchild-x-shitstirrer#more-info

So what, you ask, did I mean about that dash of irony?

Look at the angelic look on her face. Nicola, a shit stirrer? Shady Whistledown herself?! Maybe, perhaps sometimes 😉

Over the last week the Lukola fans in my chat groups as well as those sharing thoughts in my live streams, or those sending me DMs, have been expressing the same thing: exhaustion! They (heck... me too. We!) are tired and feeling a whole lot of frustration. Some quotes:

"I feel like we're all here trying to defend Nicola and Luke, trying to fight off all the negative propaganda being put out by the Jakolas and trolls, and all the while Nicola is the one feeding much of the {front facing} narrative. I'm tired and discouraged." "I believe they're together - 100% I do - but I'm tired of not knowing for sure and it's annoying to spend so much time worrying about a couple that may only come clean years from now, or if they get papped." "I'm sick to death of breadcrumbs. I want the whole loaf now!"

Yet we also laughed at the ironic humour in Nicola as a "Shit Stirrer"; the primary distributor (and organizer of other distributors, with Shonda's & JVN's help sometimes) of breadcrumbs, morsels and golden nuggets! The breadcrumbs are so much fun to find, and they can also be confusing and frustrating! Shit stirrer indeed. Xx

Nicola also has ruffled some feathers because of her political and social beliefs (support of the LGBTQ community [Gay Icon!] and abortion rights in Northern Ireland), humanitarian work. From my perspective, GOOD work! To others who perhaps have a vested interest in the status quo? Shit stirrer indeed. Xx

Yes, we Lukola fans know that Nicola and Luke don't owe us anything and that privacy is their right. We also know that Tomdaya took years before they acknowledged their relationship publicly. We should be prepared for the long haul, yes? Yes. 🥴 Le sigh.

As we enter into a new year I know the question for me will be how much of my time, energy and heart will I place into all things Lukola? Over the next week or so I'll think about the wonderful connections I've made in our Lukola community (and the angst I've experienced because of divisions)... I'll think about how fun breadcrumb speculation is, how I relish the hunt for golden nuggets (those solid truths that are ballast for our ship)... and of course the enthusiasm (and agony) that I feel for the ongoing watch for launch.

Today I'm feeling tired and at times, discouraged. My plan is to relax, reassess and come to 2025 with a fresh mindset. No obsession... just patience and fun will be the aim... and keeping up with this blog too.

Will you be on the ship with me in 2025? Or will Nicola and Luke launch before the New Year and save us all from the misery?! Ha!!

Cheers to Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Merry Seasonal Celebrations... and to my fellow Commonwealth Countries, Yay for Boxer - I mean Boxing - Day (Dec 26th)!!

P.S. Best doggos in the whole wide world! Convince me otherwise ;-)

[headkiss]

it’s christmas (this is gonna be a nightmare)

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: steve puts a little too much pressure on himself to make this holiday a magical one. or: 4 times steve messes up your first christmas together, +1 time it's perfect.

word count: 7.4k

content: established relationship, one injury (no blood!), some kisses, a lot of steve's thoughts, and a love confession <3 fluff all around!!!

a/n: a full length fic!! it's a christmas miracle!! thank you to the anon who sent the ask that inspired this fic and to all of u for being here. i love u, happy holidays <3

⁺̇◍̇̇̇⁺̇̇̇⊛̇̇̇̇⁺̇̇̇◍̇̇̇⁺̇

Steve Harrington doesn’t know too much about what exactly a perfect Christmas looks like. He has his parents to thank for that.

What he does know is that this year has to be just that: perfect. Because this year he has you.

Though you went to high school together, you and Steve properly met in the summer. Right at the beginning of it, where the evenings still have a chill of wind but the sun cuts through it with welcomed warmth. Robin convinced him to take her to the flower shop just outside of town, and you’d been behind the counter to greet them.

Robin recognized you, and she chatted your ear off while you helped her pick a bouquet with the sweetest smile Steve had ever seen and he felt like an absolute moron for never having noticed you before at school. But he noticed you then.

He’d forced Robin to wait for him in the car while he stayed back, bought you your own bouquet of flowers from the store as if you weren’t the one who’d made them, and asked you on a date. Steve fumbled the whole way through, pricking himself with a rose thorn and cussing mid-sentence, but you still said yes.

You’ve been together ever since, and Steve feels incredibly lucky for it. Lucky for how kind you are, how well you fit in with his friends, how much the kids (Max, especially, though he won’t call her out on it) like you. Lucky for being allowed to grab your hand, to kiss you whenever he wants.

And, on the nights you stay over that grow more frequent with each month, lucky to have you fill the space in the Harrington home that usually feels so cold and empty.

So, maybe the holidays make him extra sentimental, maybe he cares a little too much about making sure it’s the best damn Christmas you could have. Maybe, for once, he’s actually looking forward to it all.

Robin startles him into the present — leaning on the counter at Family Video — with a stiff poke to the cheek. “Dude, I can literally tell you’re thinking about her by the look on your face. It’s kinda gross.”

He scoffs at her, even though he probably was making a face. “Sounds like jealousy to me, Buckley.”

“Shut up, if it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t even know each other! I deserve compensation.”

Steve hangs his head dramatically. Robin is never letting that go. Ever.

“My friendship isn’t enough for you?” Steve says, placing a hand over his heart, “You wound me.”

“You annoy me,” she says, flicking his arm.

“Ow- whatever. You’ll be free of me in like five minutes.”

Steve checks his watch just to be sure. Robin’s closing by herself today, and while Steve would normally just stay and bother her anyways, he’s got plans that involve you and takeout and napping together on his couch.

As if the thought conjures it, you walk through the door, the bell jingling cheerily above your head, Steve’s car keys dangling from your fingertips. (Yes, he lets you drive the BMW.)

“Thank God,” Robin says when she sees it’s you. “Please get rid of him, he’s getting on my nerves.”

You smile and walk towards Steve, who immediately tosses an arm over your shoulders and pulls you in close, stamping a kiss to the side of your head.

You turn your head to the side and look at him, “What did you do?”

Steve gasps, “Me? Honey, you’re supposed to be on my side.”

You send him a wink, and Steve grins. He fucking loves having you with him, being able to speak without speaking. Your hand grabbing his and squeezing says I missed you, his squeezing back says me too.

“Okay, please remove your public displays of affection from the store and leave me alone with the overplayed Christmas song radio station, thank you.” Robin announces.

“Don’t miss me too much, Robs. I know it’ll be tough,” Steve says, guiding you forward.

“Good to see you, Robin!” you wave on your way out.

“You too!” And just before the door closes behind you, Robin’s voice rings out; “You’re my favourite half of the relationship!”

Your smile widens. Steve is the best thing that’s happened to you, and his friends becoming yours is one of the greatest bonuses you could ask for. It’s like his life made room for you as simply as the ocean’s tide pulls in and out. Gentle and certain.

He catches the keys when you toss them to him, and Steve’s mood just seems to lift and lift on the drive back to his place with you in the passenger seat, Christmas lights lining the streets glowing on your cheeks.

Yeah, he thinks, this Christmas is going to be perfect.

-

1.

That weekend Steve calls you and tells you to be ready by noon and to dress warmly. He doesn’t tell you much else besides his usual ‘see you soon, honey’ or ‘miss you’ murmured sweetly through the phone.

As instructed, you’re dressed in a pair of jeans and one of your favourite knitted sweaters, your brown leather jacket overtop and socked feet stuffed into your Doc Martens. Though you feel plenty warm, Steve will probably fuss over you and hold you close for body heat anyways. And, well, you’d never be opposed to that.

Steve’s BMW rolls into your driveway exactly one minute past twelve, and by the time you walk outside to meet him, he’s already standing on the passenger side of the car waiting to open the door for you.

“Always a gentleman,” you say, kissing him quickly on the cheek.

You slide into the seat that’s become yours for the most part, and Steve ducks down to kiss you properly on the mouth before pulling back, “Mm maybe not always.”

He closes your door and you laugh lightly, your face a little warm even though he’s been your boyfriend for months now. You don’t think you’ll ever be unaffected by Steve Harrington’s charm, ever be used to it being aimed at you.

Of course, you knew of him in school, but knowing the real thing, the kind, caring boy who’d been buried under King Steve back then, is probably the greatest gift you’ve ever had.

Steve drives with one hand just above your knee, his thumb running back and forth over the stitching in your jeans. Still, he doesn’t tell you where he’s taking you, his only hint was to “pay attention to the radio station.”

It’s playing Christmas music. Like that narrows things down a whole bunch.

You chat the entire way. Steve asks you how the flower shop is doing (“Poinsettias are flying off the shelves”), you ask him who he got for the group’s secret Santa this year (“Max. I’m going to need your assistance”). It’s so easy to talk to him, to laugh and joke and not have to worry about what you say or how you come off.

You never knew being with someone could be so easy until Steve.

Eventually, he pulls into the long driveway of a farm. A Christmas tree farm, to be exact, if the wooden arch you drive through is to be trusted.

“What are you planning, Harrington?”

He shrugs, his hand squeezing your knee, “Thought we could pick out a tree together. Put it up at the house. My parents aren’t gonna be around — shocker, I know — I figured we’d do it together. Make it our own.”

Steve pats your leg before letting it go and putting the car in park, his palms dragging over his thighs like he’s suddenly nervous.

“Our first Christmas tree,” you say quietly, almost to yourself, a smile creeping onto your face. He really is sweet. “I love it. Let’s go adopt a tree, Stevie.”

He flashes you a smile before getting out and jogging around the hood to open your door for you. You’ve learned to wait for him to do it since you’ve been together. The last time you tried to open your own door he made you close it again just so he could be the one to open it.

Before, you’d never really cared about that sort of thing, but Steve has single-handedly raised your expectations.

He grabs your hand and leads you towards the classic red and white barn, following the signs painted simply with a tree and an arrow pointing you in that direction.

When you turn the corner and see the selection of trees, however, Steve pauses.

There are maybe seven trees left, none of which are very impressive upon first glance. Their branches are skinny and the pine needles leave a lot of space to see through them. It’s safe to say these aren’t the Christmas trees Steve was hoping to surprise you with.

He was sure there’d be something better left, at least. And he’d been wrong. Minus a point on that perfect Christmas, he supposes.

Still, he walks you to the selection, the farm’s employee greeting the two of you as you walk up; “Hey y’all. Good afternoon!”

“Hey man,” Steve starts, “you wouldn’t happen to have any more trees left, would you?”

“Sorry folks, this is all we’ve got. Most people like to get ‘em early.”

Steve’s hope dwindles, and you can see him deflate a little bit.

You, however, don’t mind one bit. You tug on his arm to get his attention, and Steve turns to look at you, brown eyes shining like honey in the sunlight. “It’s okay,” you tell him. “Even the little trees need homes, right?”

He shakes his head with a small smile. It’s cute, he thinks, the way you tend to talk about plants as if they have feelings. You do it when you tell him about the flowers you sell, too.

“Right as usual, honey,” he decides. “Pick your favorites.”

So, you wind up with two small Christmas trees rather than one full one, and there’s a small victory in it when you and Steve strap them both to the top of the BMW without too much of a struggle.

Another victory when you sing along to ‘Last Christmas’ and hold out your fist as if there’s a microphone in your grip to get him to join you. Admittedly, it isn’t a very good rendition, but Steve loves it all the same.

You have a way of turning things around for him, even without knowing it.

When you get back to Steve’s, he brings both of the trees inside and sets them up before bringing down the bins of ornaments and lights from the attic. He only shouted once when a spider crawled over his hand.

Having two trees makes it easy to turn decorating into a lighthearted competition. You both claim one as your own and decorate them with string lights and tinsel and ornaments. Steve’s mom would probably have an aneurysm seeing them used so haphazardly.

Though by the end, your tree is definitely prettier, Steve still feels like he’s won something as you lean your back against his chest and his arms cross over your own, keeping you there.

As a kid, he wasn’t even allowed to do the decorating. Mrs. Harrington had to make everything look picture perfect, and Steve’s hands didn’t help with that. Not according to her.

Today couldn’t feel more different from those memories of his childhood.

“Yours is better,” he tells you, chin perched on your shoulder, his voice low in your ear.

Objectively, it probably is better (your prior experience with arranging plants was an advantage), but you don’t actually care about that.

Today felt like a little glimpse into the future you and Steve could have. It’s easy to picture it: your own apartment, buying decorations you both actually like, setting it all up together every year.

“I think they’re both brilliant,” you say.

And while today wasn’t what he was picturing, wasn’t what he’d hoped for with his ideal holiday in mind, Steve finds that he can certainly live with that. Your adorable little clap when you’d finished decorating was enough to cement it.

It’s only one thing. He’s got plenty of chances to be perfect later, he guesses.

Steve dips his head and kisses the top of your shoulder over your sweater.

-

2.

You stay over at Steve’s that weekend. You’re both off work, and you find yourself spending your days (and nights) off with Steve more and more.

In the morning, you blink your eyes open slowly, naturally. No alarm set, your boy wrapped around you. It’s how you’ll spend every morning someday.

The sunlight sneaks through a crack in the curtains, cutting a line across Steve’s blue bedding. You squint at it, shifting onto your back gently. Steve’s arm remains slung over your waist as you move, his knee against your leg. You roll your head to the side to look at him, a smile creeping over your mouth at the way his cheek is smushed into the pillow, his lips pouting and hair a mess over his forehead.

Mornings have easily become your favorite time to spend with Steve. He’s cuddling you in some way every single time without fail, even when he wakes up. His voice is all low and gravelly from sleep and it feels like an honor to get to be the one to hear it like that. Usually, you spend an hour in bed with him after waking up. Laying together, talking, kissing. Sometimes (often) more.

You’d stay put right now if you didn’t have to pee so bad.

Slipping out of bed without Steve noticing proves a challenge, his arm tightens over you in his sleep, his brows scrunching. You whisper a soft “I’ll be right back.” He mumbles something incoherent, but his arm relaxes and you’re able to sneak away.

On your way back from the bathroom, you pause and take a peek out the window. You gasp happily at what you see: snow. A bright, white layer blanketing the ground sparkling in the sunlight.

You turn back to the bed and let yourself fall to it with a bounce, earning another grumbled protest from Steve, but there’s no way you’re going back to sleep now. You trail a hand up his arm to his shoulder, giving it a small shake, “Stevie, wake up.”

“Hm?” his eyes scrunch before opening. “What happened, honey?”

“It snowed!”

“Yeah?” he huffs a laugh at your excitement, his hand searching for yours in the sheets.

“Yeah, and it’s so pretty. We should go out before it melts.”

“It’s winter, sweetheart. Not gonna melt that fast.”

“Steve.”

“Okay, okay,” his hand leaves yours in favor of wrapping itself around you again, and he uses it to tug you close again. “Just five more minutes.”

His nose is pressed to the top of your head, and he breathes you in, smiling to himself. Mornings are Steve’s favorite, too. Only when they’re spent with you.

Secretly, he’s also happy about the snow. He was hoping mother nature would be on his side so that he could check yet another holiday item off his list with you. Hopefully one that will turn out nicer than the tiny trees you’d ended up with.

It’s definitely more than five minutes by the time you get Steve to get up and out of bed. You attempt to get him outside right away. He stops you with a: “No snow-related activities on an empty stomach!”

So, it’s a rushed breakfast of bagels and coffee provided by Steve, and then you’re gearing up and heading into the back yard.

The cold bites at your cheeks, and the tip of Steve’s nose is pink within minutes, but you love it.

There’s a snowman built together, snow angels made that get ruined when Steve rolls himself on top of you and steals a kiss or five. Naturally, all there is left to do is have a snowball fight.

You start it when you’re still on the ground, a hand sneaking into the snow to grab a handful and pressing it to the back of Steve’s head. He gasps, and you take the opportunity to push him to the side and get up.

“No fair!” he calls. “I was distracted and you went for the hair.”

“Your fault for not wearing a hat, babe,” you laugh.

“Oh, you won’t be laughing for long, honey. You’re in for it.”

And just like that, you’re running around like kids in a schoolyard, hiding behind trees, slugging snowballs at each other and cheering when you manage to not miss.

Steve silently thanks mother nature or the universe or whatever made it snow for the wide smile on your face, your eyes shining with mirth.

At one point, you’re suddenly distracted by something in the trees, and the snowball is out of Steve’s hand before he sees you start to look towards him again.

It hits you square in the face.

A quick “Ow” comes out of your mouth, though it really doesn’t hurt that bad. Your first reaction is just to let it slip, but Steve’s heart sinks to his stomach.

“Shit, honey.” He runs over to you and cups your face in his hands, his mittens soft against your skin as he brushes the snow from your face. “Fuck. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t tryin’ to get you in the face.”

Minus another point, for sure. Perfect Christmas: -2.

“I know, don’t worry,” you tell him, because he clearly is worrying.

“You okay?” he checks. He literally winces when you sniffle, frowns when he sees the way your eyes water. “Honey. I’m sorry.”

“Honestly, Steve, I’m fine,” you reach up and grab his wrists, squeezing them over his jacket. “I’m only crying ‘cause it got my nose. It doesn’t actually hurt.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive,” you assure him. “Didn’t you used to play sports in school? Thought athletes had better aim.”

“I was a swimmer, baby. No projectiles involved.” He smiles softly when you laugh, but he can’t stop himself from asking one more time. “You’re really not hurt?”

“It’s just a bit of snow, Stevie.”

His eyes run over your face anyway before he nods. Then, he dips forwards and lightly kisses your cheek, the other, the tip of your nose, and your mouth.

“Well now I’m certainly all better,” you say against his lips.

Steve pulls back but doesn’t go far. “I think this snowball fight is over.”

“Buzzkill,” you tease.

He bends down and picks up a handful of snow before shoving it in his own face.

“Steve!” you laugh.

“There, now we’re even,” he says, snowflakes clinging to his lashes.

You let him lead you inside after that, his arm draping over your shoulders, yours hugging his middle as you walk across the yard.

Once you’ve both shed your layers of coats and boots and hats and mittens, Steve takes you upstairs and runs you a bath to warm you up. He apologizes another two times when he looks at your face for too long, and you have to kiss him to stop him uttering another ‘sorry.’

Hell, if it’s gonna make him this sweet on you, you’d probably take a snowball to the face any day.

Eventually, when the bathtub is full, a layer of bubbles over the surface, you coax Steve into joining you. He leans against the side with you between his knees, back settling into its home against his chest, his chin resting atop your head.

Steve runs his hands over your shoulders, presses kisses into your hair. All along he’s reminding himself that the next thing will go right. He won’t be throwing anything, at least.

-

3.

The next weekend Steve calls you again. He asks you to be ready in the evening this time, but still keeps things vague other than the fact that you’ll be outside and need thick socks.

You have a pretty good idea of what he has in mind, but he’d called it a ‘redemption date’ over the phone and even though you truly don’t think he has anything to redeem himself for, you don’t want to spoil his plans, so you play along.

He comes to the front door when he picks you up this time, knocking gently as if you hadn’t been waiting for him by the windows.

“Hi, honey,” he drops a quick kiss to your lips, “had to come and approve your outfit. Don’t want you getting cold and stealing my jacket again.”

He’s lying, really. Steve fucking loves draping his own jacket over your shoulders and seeing you pull it tighter around you. When that happens, he braves the cold, but he figures that probably won’t be smart for spending hours outside.

“Aww, but yours is so much warmer than mine,” you pout jokingly.

Steve simply grabs your thickest jacket from a hook by the door and holds it out for you to slip your arms into.

As suspected, he drives you to a skating rink. He chose one a town over from Hawkins, where they have twinkle lights strung above the rink and rainbow Christmas lights lining the boards. Steve smiles when you gasp lightly in delight at the sight of it. The brightness cutting through the already dark night sky.

Steve guides you over to the skate rental booth first, bumping his hip into yours when you attempt to pay for the rentals. “As if. My idea, my wallet.”

“You don’t even let me pay when it’s my idea, either.”

“Well, that’s just chivalry, babe.”

You roll your eyes at him and thank the man behind the booth when he hands you both your skates. As you walk towards the lockers and cubbies set up nearby, you lean up and kiss Steve’s cheek, his light stubble scratching your lips.

“Thank you for this,” you say.

“You don’t need to thank me,” he tells you. “Though I should warn you that I’m not very good at this.”

“What? You, not good at something? Please.”

“No, seriously. I’m like bambi on ice.”

You laugh and shove his shoulder weakly, “Don’t worry. I’m probably even worse.”

Steve grins. So far, so good. This one will be perfect. Well, as perfect as it can be considering his skating skills.

You sit on one of the benches and Steve puts both of your shoes in one of the cubbies. He ties his own skates first before kneeling in front of you to help you with yours. He knows how to tie them, at the very least.

He helps you slip your feet into the skates first, then tightens the laces on one before peering up at you and checking, “Feel okay? Not too tight?”

“It’s good, Steve. I feel like Cinderella.”

“A perfect fit! She must be the one!”

“Dork.”

“That’s prince dork to you.”

Steve finishes up with your skates, squeezing your ankle before setting your foot down and standing back up.

On the ice, neither of you are very graceful. You hold onto the boards most of the time, and Steve stumbles and nearly falls every few strides, but you’re laughing and having fun, so who cares?

So what if you get lapped by multiple people on the rink, including children? So what if you get some side eyes for being too slow or in the way? Neither of you can bring yourselves to be bothered.

Best of all, Steve keeps a hold on your hand the entire time. He literally saves you from falling with his grip on your hand squeezing and pulling you up straight.

However, your hands being clasped also means that, inevitably, when one of you goes down, you both do.

It happens after a decent amount of laps; your toe pick catches on a dip in the ice and it’s all it takes for you to lose your balance. Steve somehow twists himself to catch the brunt of your fall.

He expected that to come with some pain, a couple bruises, maybe. Instead, his wrist twists painfully against the ice as he falls, as if he’d tried to catch himself with it, and he can’t help the hiss of pain that comes out when he lands.

“You okay, honey?” he asks you.

“Of course I am. I landed on you, Stevie. Are you okay?”

He tests his wrist out by flexing it, wiggling his fingers, and he tries to hide it but he winces when he does, a sharp pain shooting up his arm. “M’fine.”

“Bullshit, I saw that wince, Harrington.” You manage to get back up on your feet and hold out a hand for him to grab, “Up, I’m taking you to the ER.”

“No, no. I’m good.”

“Steve.”

“Baby.”

“Come on, you don’t want to make it worse, do you?” you urge him. “Plus, I’ll only keep worrying and bugging you about it until you let me take you to the doctor. Your wrist is already swelling, babe.”

Mostly because he doesn’t like the thought of you worrying about him, Steve agrees.

When both of your skates are off (your doing, this time) and given back to the booth, you reach into Steve’s coat pocket and grab the keys to the BMW. He doesn’t protest, and that alone tells you he must be hurting more than he’s letting on. You even manage to open your own door for once.

Steve’s quiet on the drive to the hospital, his hand resting limply on his leg. His brows are furrowed, his eyes squeezing shut every so often when a burst of pain comes. You do your best to avoid any pot holes or bumps along the way.

Once there, you make him sit in one of the waiting room chairs, “I’ll get the check in forms and everything. Stay put, yeah?”

“Your wish is my command,” he says, trying to joke. His voice wobbles a tiny bit, though.

It’s at least an hour of waiting before someone can see him (and that’s including your many pesterings to the front desk). You don’t mean to be a bother, but you’ve never seen Steve injured in any serious capacity, and it’s messing with your head.

He took the weight of that fall to make sure you wouldn’t get hurt. The way he pays attention to things like that is one of the many reasons you love him.

You love him. You haven’t said the words to each other yet, but you’ve felt them for a long time already. It’s hard not to love Steve Harrington.

Finally, the doctor takes him back, and you follow. After an x-ray and some prodding, he determines that it’s a sprained wrist and that he should keep it wrapped for a few weeks to make sure it heals. They give him a prescription for some mild painkillers, too, for the first couple of days.

You breathe a sigh of relief knowing it isn’t broken, but Steve’s shoulders are still slumped.

He’s in pain, sure, his wrist now wrapped up in a tensor bandage, but really he feels defeated at messing yet another thing up. Third strike.

Steve lets you guide him back to the car and drive back to his place. You’ve decided you’re staying the night to take care of him, and as much as he hates looking weak or feeling useless, he’s glad to have you around.

You dote on him back at home, grabbing an ice pack from the freezer after making sure he’s settled on the couch, throwing a frozen pizza in the oven, bringing him meds and water.

“Honey, it’s just a sprain. Please stop fussing and sit with me.”

His brown eyes shine a little, and you could never say no to him when he looks at you like that.

You sit beside him and he drops his head to your shoulder, your hand coming up to play with the strands at the nape of his neck, scratching his scalp gently. His uninjured hand rests on your thigh and squeezes.

“Best painkiller ever,” he says.

-

4.

Steve has convinced himself that nothing could possibly go wrong this time around.

His plans for today involve staying at home, just you and him, no outside forces to deal with or avoid. So much less potential for failure. That’s what he thinks, at least.

Steve knows nearly every piece of you, so, obviously he knows you like to bake. You’d made him a cake for his birthday, and every so often you bring him other treats from home. Naturally, that meant that there was no way he was leaving out Christmas baking.

He’d considered doing gingerbread houses, and then remembered that the last time he tried that in a competition with the kids, his house was nothing more than a messy pile of gingerbread slabs. One with a bite taken out of it.

So, considering his past failures this holiday season, he’d settled on something that he thinks — hopes — is really hard to mess up: sugar cookies.

His mother’s collection of cookbooks had never been used for more than decoration until now. Steve searched through them until he found a recipe, wrote down the ingredients, and bought them at the grocery store to make sure he had everything.

In school, he never did much studying, but he reread the hell out of that recipe in order to get at least this one thing right.

The tensor bandage is still wrapped around his wrist, which is fucking annoying, really. He has to adjust it every day, and it’s hard to do with a single hand. He much prefers when you do it for him, sealing it with a featherlight kiss.

Worse, the thing still hurts, and you refused to let him drive and put more strain on it than necessary, so you took the bus and walked the rest of the way to his house.

He’s got all of the ingredients and tools laid out on the island when you ring the doorbell. “Hurry up, Harrington, it’s freezing!”

Hurry he does. He lets you in and helps you unwrap yourself from your bundle of a scarf and hat and mittens and jacket. Steve dips in to kiss your cheek, your skin cold against his lips. “Wouldn’t have to freeze if you let me come get you.”

“I don’t want you hurting yourself for no reason, I’m fine,” you grab his uninjured hand and kiss the pads of his fingers, “and I like these hands.”

He smiles at your words, smug, “Yeah, I know you do, honey.”

You shake your head at him, but you’re smiling all the same, “I take it back. Your ego is getting too big.”

“Nooo, it’s just the right size,” he winks.

“Don’t you have plans, Steve?” you ask, changing the subject. “Getting a little off track, aren’t we?”

“Later, then,” he says, taking your hand with his good one and leading you to the kitchen.

You pause at the entryway of the kitchen, scanning over the things on the island, two aprons Steve must’ve dug up from somewhere hanging from the knobs of the cabinets.

“Tada,” he says, “we’re making cookies.”

“This might be my favourite one yet, Stevie.” You walk over and grab one of the aprons, leaving the other (a pink floral number) for Steve. “I’m in charge, though.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” he says, taking the other apron without a complaint. “This is your kitchen today, chef.”

“Mm. That has a nice ring to it.”

“Chef honey,” he says, planting a kiss where your neck meets your shoulder, breath warm even through your shirt.

You get started after that. Predictably, you make a mess with flour on the island and mixing bowls strewn about the surface. You get distracted with a bit of a flour war somewhere in there, Steve smudging it onto your cheek, you onto the tip of his nose.

When it’s time to roll out the dough and cut out the cookies, Steve grabs a handful of cookie cutters from one of the drawers, setting them onto the counter with a small clang. They’re all holiday themed. Candy canes and snowmen and Christmas trees.

“Someone’s prepared,” you say, bumping your hip against his.

“I run a serious establishment here, baby.”

“I thought I was in charge.”

Soon enough, after sneaking bites of raw cookie dough and cutting out as many cookies as you could manage, they’re placed into the oven, the timer set.

You end up in the living room, a random channel playing on the TV while the cookies bake. It starts innocently enough, just sitting next to each other, shoulders and thighs pressed together.

Then, Steve’s good hand wanders, starting above your knee and moving up and up until he’s squeezing the top of your thigh, tracing patterns with his thumb. When he speaks a husky, “Come closer?” how could you ever say no?

So, somehow, you’ve ended up straddling Steve’s lap, his injured hand resting loosely on your waist, the other pressed in between your shoulder blades to keep you close. Yours are in his hair, running through the strands, tugging even.

It grows heated fast, and all of a sudden you’re making out like a pair of teenagers, Steve urging you to press further down in his lap, to writhe there while his mouth works yours until it’s all you can think about. All you can feel.

The room feels warmer, Steve’s jeans tighter over his lap, your chest bumping against his, hearts racing. Even just kissing him feels better than anything you’ve ever had in the past.

He kisses you like he’s starved everytime, sometimes a ravenous hunger, like now, or, when he’s gentler, something tender and soft. A sweet tooth.

The cookies are long forgotten. The timer sounds and nobody hears it. You would keep going forever, if you could. But then there’s the smell that hits your nostrils. The smell of something burning.

“Steve?” you say against his mouth.

“Uh-huh?” he breathes.

“Do you smell that?”

He pulls back, and it’s immediately after you say the words that the alarm goes off, piercing through the air, killing the mood, much to your dismay. Even more to Steve’s.

“Fuck,” he groans.

You’re both rushing to the kitchen then. You, fumbling off his lap, him beating you to the kitchen and frantically taking the baking sheet out of the oven and turning the thing off. You grab a towel from the counter and start fanning beneath the alarm to get it to go off, and when the cookies are dealt with, Steve joins the efforts.

Eventually the thing stops beeping, and you both rest your arms. The room still looks a little cloudy, the cookies black at the edges.

Steve doesn’t say anything, only rests his elbows on the island and slumps his head, defeated.

He’s so frustrated with himself. Not for kissing you. No, he could never be mad at that, but at the outcome of his final attempt at a holiday date going south again.

You frown at him, walking over and placing a hand on his back, rubbing gentle circles. “Steve? You okay?”

“I just- I messed it up again.”

“Hey, I’m as much to blame as you are. It takes two to tango, as they say.”

He huffs a weak laugh, picking his head up and twisting to look at you. Your pretty face, eyes nothing but kind. Fuck, he loves you, and he just wanted to show you that. To make Christmas as magical as it's supposed to be.

“I really wanted it to go well, you know?”

You realize then that he’s not only talking about today. That he’s been putting this pressure on himself all month to make plans and something has happened every time. You don’t blame him for that, if anything, it makes your heart ache with adoration.

“Steve, it doesn’t matter to me. Things happen, it’s okay,” you kiss his bicep lightly. “I’d rather things go a bit wrong with you than to have them go right with someone else. You are the best part.”

“I-” love you, he almost says. But he doesn’t want the first time to be like this, in a room that still stinks. “You’re the best part for me too, honey.”

You decide that next time, it’s your turn to do something for him.

-

+1

Steve comes home from work on Christmas Eve, eyes tired and feet hurting despite having worn relatively comfortable shoes today.

He’d tried to get the day off, tried to be able to spend it with you in bed for hours and hours and not getting up until the afternoon. Keith had other plans for him.

He even tried to dramatize his wrist injury. Still, he was forced to go in.

Walking up the driveway, Steve sees the glow of lights inside filtering through the curtains. He’s fairly certain he hadn’t left any on, but he also knows he’s often wrong about these things, so he shrugs it off and goes inside.

There’s noise coming from the living room. Crackling of the fireplace that he barely ever uses, music playing quietly, and then he hears you humming along.

“Honey?”

“Yup, it’s me!”

You know where the spare key is, Steve’s the one who told you the information and encouraged you to use it, but you’ve often been too nervous to do so. Not today, it seems.

While Steve was at work, you’d set up your plan for him.

He follows the sound of your voice without much of a thought, a moth drawn to a flame. When he turns into the living room, he stills.

There are strings of warm white Christmas lights hung about, the fireplace is actually housing a fire, and in front of it is a fort made up of red and green and white blankets and pillows. Some plaid, some with snowflakes, all Christmas themed.

“Did you do all of this?” he asks, walking slowly to where you stand by the fort.

“Figured it was my turn to organize a date, don’t you think?”

“Baby. This is all really sweet, but wha-”

You cut him off, “Uh-uh. Let me explain.” You reach for Steve’s hands, and he meets you in the middle willingly. Suddenly nervous, you shift your weight on your feet. “I thought we could do presents a little early.”

His brows scrunch, “But Christmas is tomorrow.”

“Please?” you ask, squeezing his hands once.

And, really, Steve would never say no to you. Especially not when you’re saying ‘please’ all sweet and delicate like that.

“Okay,” he says. “Yours is in my room. I’ll go grab it. And change; I smell like Family Video.”

“‘Kay, Stevie.”

You kiss his cheek before he goes for good measure.

Steve is confused the entire time, wondering what it could be that you’re up to, but he does as he said he would. You’d been wearing a set of pyjamas (one he loves on you; a soft baby blue pair of shorts with a matching sweater), so he goes for one of his pairs of plaid pants and a plain t shirt before grabbing your messily wrapped gift bag from where he’d hidden it under his bed.

Back in the living room, he finds you now settled on the ground of the fort, which you’d lined with fuzzy blankets and the biggest of the pillows. His gift is sat beside you, a gift box wrapped in a lovely bow. Your skills of wrapping bouquets are transferable, he’s learned.

He joins you, sitting across from you, but close enough that your legs tangle and knees bump.

“You go first,” you tell him.

“Okay,” he scratches the back of his neck, handing you the gift bag. “Let me explain it before you say anything.”

That grabs your attention, but your plans aren’t about his present to you, really, and you know you’ll love it no matter what because Steve knows you better than anyone.

You lift out tissue paper first, uncovering multiple different things inside the bag, also wrapped. It pieces together as you go. A toothbrush, toothpaste, a hairbrush, your entire skincare routine, a couple of pyjama and underwear sets.

“It’s so you don’t have to bring an overnight bag every time you stay over now. I, um, cleared out a couple of drawers in my dresser and the bathroom.”

“Steve,” you look at him, heart squeezing. It’s so thoughtful, so him, and you surge forward you wrap your arms around his neck and breathe into his skin, “I love it. Thank you. It’s perfect.”

Perfect.

“You really think so?”

“Of course I do,” you sit back into your spot. “You know I hate carrying things.”

“I never let you carry anything, honey.”

“Exactly,” you nod. Now, you hold out his gift for him to take, “Your turn.”

You watch Steve’s hands as he tugs the bow undone, then lifts the lid of the box.

Nestled inside are four delicate ornaments. A Christmas tree, a snowman, an ice skate, and a plate of cookies. One for every date he’d planned for you.

Steve frowns at them, not because he doesn’t like them, but because he doesn’t quite understand where you’re going with this.

“I thought it was time we started collecting our own ornaments. For our place, one day,” you tell him.

“They’re lovely, but honey you- you really wanna remember these things?“ he shakes his head, more at himself than you. “I messed ‘em all up.”

“There’s one more thing in there,” you say quietly.

The thing you're nervous about. A thing you’ve never said out loud before.

Steve finds it beneath one of the ornaments, a small piece of paper folded up. When he opens that, his heart stutters in his chest. Written in your handwriting are three words: I love you.

He blinks away from the paper to look at you, though his thumb continues to trace the words absentmindedly. “Honey-”

“I love you, Steve. Okay?” You shift closer, kneeling at his side, your hands coming up to frame his jaw, your fingers kind against his skin. “I don’t care that things didn’t go how you planned. I mean, I would rather you didn’t require an ER visit, but the point is that I don’t need things to be perfect. And I know you’ve been hard on yourself trying to make them so.”

He lets go of the paper and reaches up to grasp your wrists, his thumb finding your racing pulse. His uninjured hand holds on tighter than the other.

“Thank you for trying for me,” you continue, “for caring. But no matter what happens, things are perfect for me. Because I get to do them with you. Got that, Harrington? You’re perfect, and I love you, and-”

He shuts you up with a kiss. It’s a simple but firm press of his lips against yours, but it says enough.

“I fucking love you too, honey,” he says, his forehead against yours, lips only a breath apart. “You saying all of that it means — you mean a lot to me.”

“Yeah, well, I meant it.”

“I know you did,” he nods. Steve pulls back the tiniest bit to be able to see your face fully, his sweet brown eyes locked on yours. “I wanted our first Christmas to be perfect, and I didn’t wanna let you down, but you’re right. They were perfect, because you’re here. And I love you for bein’ here.”

“As long as you’ll have me,” you say. You push his hair off his forehead before letting go of his face and sitting back, “Why don’t you give those ornaments a try?”

“On those trees?” he asks, eyebrows lifted, voice joking.

“Steve.”

”Okay, okay.”

He picks up the skate first. Surprising, considering that one had ended in a physical injury for him, but you say nothing and watch him walk over to your little trees by the window. You join him, sitting on the arm of the couch nearby while he scans over the tree.

“Pick a spot, handsome,” you encourage. “There’s really no wrong answer here.”

He goes to hang the first ornament, hand wavering before setting on a branch.

“Well, maybe not-” Steve tackles you onto the couch before you can finish. You dissolve into giggles as he pokes at your ribs, his head on your chest.

Steve’s done keeping score.

Perfect Christmas. That’s it.

⁺̇◍̇̇̇⁺̇̇̇⊛̇̇̇̇⁺̇̇̇◍̇̇̇⁺̇

thank you so much for reading!! if you enjoyed please please consider leaving a comment and/or a reblog and letting me know what you thought! it would mean a bunch of<3

[perseephoneee]

sugar & spice [ficmas day 13] [bucky barnes x afab!reader]

↳ masterlist ↳ ship exchange ↳ taglist ↳ ficmas 2024

author's note: this is super late bc i drove home for the holidays today!! also i was watching SNL and got distracted

playlist:

christmas in hollis -- run dmc

thats christmas to me -- pentatonix

if we make it through december -- phoebe bridgers

Living next to the Winter Soldier was usually peaceful but sometimes awful. 

He had moved recently to St. Bernard Parish only a few months ago. You remember seeing all the drama with John Walker on the news, and Sam Wilson, aka “The Falcon,” stepping into the role of Captain America. You knew Sam was from the area, but you never expected his best friend to move in so close by. Let alone next to you. 

Most times, you don’t see him at all. Bucky tends to hide or only go out on errands. You’ll exchange a nod, maybe an awkward smile. You think to yourself that he’s incredibly handsome, even amidst the awkwardness. Maybe you would invite him out if you had more confidence. 

The first time you had a real conversation with him was in the apartment complex’s laundry room. Your cat had knocked over a glass of red wine all over your comforter, and you were sitting down there with spot remover cursing to yourself, trying to remove it. Additionally, the washer and dryer were ancient and didn’t want to accommodate something of your comforter size. You had attempted to smush it down to as small as possible, but the stupid machine wouldn’t turn on, and you were afraid of it exploding if you tried to put more detergent in. 

Bucky had come into the space at that moment. 

You never really knew what to do around him. He was this badass, sexy super soldier, and you were a nursing student who liked $6 wine. You guys did not operate in the same circuit. 

“Everything alright?” he asked. His voice was slightly raspy in a way you liked. 

“Washer,” you pointed to the offending object. He nodded like he understood. He probably did. He lived in the building. Bucky walked over and looked at the machine, shaking it a little like it would dislodge its problems. He tried pushing a bunch of buttons, but all it did was make the machine gurgle. You were too late to tell him to stop pressing things when your fear of bubbles exploding out of the machine was made a reality. 

Soapy water leaked out of the machine, covering you both in bubbles. By the time you found a way to shut off the machine, you were both wet and squeaky. Bucky looked mortified.

“I-I don’t know much about technology,” he apologized, red tinging his cheeks. You couldn’t help but burst out in laughter, which just made him confused. 

“This is ridiculous,” you laughed. Bucky chuckled until both of you stood there, trying to hold in laughter while covered in bubbles. The building manager came in a moment later and yelled at you both. 

Now, you had a tentative friendship with the Winter Soldier. Sometimes, you guys would go on morning runs or grab a coffee. One time, Bucky had you over to watch a sports game. You didn’t care much for sports but recognized it was him trying to be friendly, so you said yes. You guys made nachos for the big event. 

With Christmas around the corner, you were still trying to think of what you could get Bucky. He didn’t share much information about himself. Plus, you had a budget to work with. You were debating knitting him something but worried he would hate it. A knock on the door disturbed your thoughts. 

Bucky greeted you with a card in hand. 

“Hey, Barnes,” you smiled, leaning against the door frame. 

“Sam invited us to Delacroix for a Christmas gathering,” Bucky shrugged, handing you the invitation. You smiled at the family photo. 

“Sounds fun.”

“I’m not good with people.”

“Sure you are, I’ve heard stories of the infamous Uncle Bucky,” you chuckled. Sam had once shown you photos of his nephews hanging off Bucky’s arm. 

“That was a one-time experience,” Bucky said matter-of-factly. He had a hint of a smile on his lips, though. He shifted on his feet. “Are you busy today?”

“Not really.”

“I need to go holiday shopping…. I want to get something for the Wilsons,” Bucky sighed. He sounded stressed, and you got the sense that it had been a while since he’d had to think of gifts. You thought it was cute. 

“I’ll go shopping with you, Buck,” you grinned. “Let me grab a jacket.”

Bucky had seen in the paper an ad for a Christmas market in New Orleans, which is where you guys decided to head. You had a car and were able to drive you both into the city after relentlessly teasing him for still using the paper to find events. 

You didn’t live in the French Quarter for a myriad of reasons, and it being too expensive is one of them. But it was very pretty during this time of year. The market was covered in fake snow and twinkling lights, the smell of evergreen permeating the air. You ordered some mulled wine for the both of you, burning your tongue in your eagerness to sip the drink. You helped Bucky buy some things for Sam and his nephews. At some point, you snapped a picture of him comparing two different stuffed animals; his look of determination was absolutely adorable. You grabbed some things for your family, and while thinking of your Mom, you ended up at one of the jewelry booths. 

“Beautiful, isn’t it? Fresh pearl, right off in Olympia, Washington,” the seller crooned, pointing to a delicate necklace you were looking at. There was a delicate gemstone in the center. It seemed to be twinkling at you. 

It was a pretty penny, but you wanted to do something for your Mom, who singlehandedly helped you through nursing school. You fished out the money from your wallet and opted to get it wrapped, too. 

“That’s pretty,” Bucky said from behind you. He had a bag from the hot sauce stand and was just now seeing what you were getting. 

“It’s for my Mom, as a thank you,” you shrugged. You said thank you as you took the necklace from the seller. You paused, sniffing the air. “Do you smell schnitzel?”

You dragged Bucky to the German food booth and excitedly ordered both pork schnitzel plates with a side of potatoes. You didn’t realize how starving you were. Bucky looked concerned as you inhaled everything. 

“You eat like the men I served with.”

“I eat with an aura of awesomeness?” you retorted, shoveling more potatoes. He laughed. 

“Sure.”

“I feel you don’t have faith in my superior abilities, Barnes.”

“I rarely do.”

You were about to respond, something well thought out and clever like always, when someone jostled you walking by. You turned to call out to them to watch where they were going when you saw a familiar bag in their hands. You stood up immediately, Bucky following your line of sight. 

“They took my bag! That has my Mom’s gift in it!” you cried out. People looked at you in bewilderment, your assailant sprinting in the crowd and knocking people out of the way. 

“Y/N, wait!” Bucky yelled as you took off after him. You weren’t an athlete, but you could pick up speed when necessary. You felt like you were in a game of Temple Run as you dodged people and objects while moving after him. Bucky caught up to you easily, not even breaking a sweat. He surpassed you quickly, grabbing the guy from the back of his jacket and throwing him down. You gasped at how quickly he moved. Bucky held him down while he checked for your bag. He looked up to you in alarm. “He doesn’t have it.”

“I saw him take it,” you gasped. 

“He must’ve passed it off to someone in the crowd,” Bucky cursed. The guy was crying underneath him, and he let him go. He basically kicked him to the side. You scanned the crowd, noticing a similar get-up from a guy to your left. You nudged Bucky’s arms, pointing him out. He nodded at you before stalking his way towards him. Even in his movements, he seemed completely still. You weren’t surprised to know that he was one of the scariest assassins. 

You both followed the guy onto a quieter street from the market. Unfortunately, that’s when the rest of his accomplices came out to greet you. While you were confident that Bucky could get out of this situation, you were unsure about your own abilities. 

You didn’t even have a chance to fight back when someone grabbed you from behind, pressing a sweet-smelling cloth to your nose, lulling you into unconsciousness. 

You were awoken by a bright spotlight. 

Akin to a bad interrogation scene, you sat up and groaned. You were tied to a chair. Bucky was next to you, looking bored. Or at least feigning boredom. The gang of guys were standing around you, looking smug. 

“Well, well, well, look at what the cat dragged in,” one of them said, sounding smug. 

“Aren’t you the cat?” you groaned. One of the other guys slapped you, Bucky growling at the motion. 

“Keep your mouth shut, this isn’t about you.”

“Then why kidnap me?”

“Y/N, shut up,” Bucky hissed. 

“I become annoying when I’m nervous,” you shrugged, the sting from your cheek starting to fade. The guy had a fairly weak slap. You spied your bag out of the corner of your eye, in the back near the door. You kissed your teeth. 

“What do you want?” Bucky asked. You wondered why he hadn’t broken out yet. 

“We want your privileged ass off our turf,” one of the guys called out. “Avengers aren’t welcome here. Not after the Blip.”

You thought that was a dumb reason but neglected to comment. 

“We were just about to leave; we were just doing holiday shopping,” Bucky said, tone even. 

“Oh, yes, sugar and spice. I’d love to have some of that sugar if you get my drift,” the main guy said, leering at you. You considered spitting on him, but Bucky’s hard expression was enough to cause a few of them to back off. He glanced at you, nodding at the door. You thought he was talking about your bags, and you nodded back. 

“You guys are barely passable villains, and I have better things to do,” Bucky sighed, snapping out of his restraints immediately and standing up. The other guys jumped into action, and that's how you got to see the Winter Soldier in true form. Even still, you knew he was holding back. He didn’t need full strength for these goons. 

You shuffled in your chair, trying to tip forward slightly. You had seen this once in a movie and thought of trying it now (everything is accurate in movies). You pushed back, landing with a hard crack on the back of the chair. The back part cracked, allowing you to wiggle out of your ties with ease. You got up off the ground, making a sprint towards the exit. Bucky caught up with you a second later. The guns started firing a moment after that. 

“Go!” Bucky yelled, basically dragging you behind him as you guys sprinted out of wherever you were. You followed behind him uselessly until he felt you were far enough away to catch your breath. You sat on the curb of the sidewalk, panting. Bucky put your bags on the ground next to you. 

“You remembered,” you sighed happily. Bucky sat down next to you. 

“Least I could do.”

“I’m sorry I got you caught up in that for a stupid present.”

“Those guys were idiots; it made my week to beat them up,” Bucky smiled. You knew he was trying to make you feel better, but you couldn’t help but think there was a shred of truth. 

“I still feel bad.”

“Don’t,” Bucky leaned against his knee. “Nothing with you is bad.”

You felt your cheeks heat, and you hoped Bucky didn’t notice. Adrenaline still coursed through you, your brain going a hundred directions a minute. You leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, making him go still. 

“Thanks for saving my life.”

Bucky smiled. 

“I think you saved your own.”

You both went home after that, Bucky hesitantly leaving you by yourself. Like he was afraid, something would happen. You didn’t realize until you were behind closed doors how scared you had actually been. You broke down sobbing a second later. You were glad Bucky wasn’t there to see it. 

Sam's party was at the end of the week. You were putting on some simple pearl studs when Bucky knocked on your door. You ran out to greet him, swinging open the door. 

You had never seen Bucky dressed up. He was always dressed in his “civilian attire” and in varying shades of dark. Today, he wore a dark blue button-up with his leather jacket over it. He had put on some nicer boots instead of his worn ones. He looked devilishly handsome and very much like someone who would break your heart. You were pleasantly surprised to find him appreciating your appearance as well. 

“You…,” he trailed off. You had put on a nicer maroon dress for the party but no heels. It wasn’t that fancy. It seemed to be enough for him. 

“I know–”

“You look beautiful,” Bucky coughed out. He was never good at talking or expressing anything, really. You didn’t know how much willpower it took for him to admit this. You beamed. 

“So do you,” you replied, shuffling your feet. Bucky offered you his arm, and you wondered how many girls he would do this to back in the 40s. You took it with glee anyway. 

Neither of you lived far from Delacroix, and didn’t have to wait that long to get to the Wilson’s. You could hear the music from down the block. Bucky parked, running to your door to quickly let you out. He was being a gentleman and it was giving you heartache. 

Sarah Wilson was dressed in a beautiful crushed velvet gown and greeted you with a hug when she saw you. You had met the Wilson sister twice, and both times she greeted you warmly. She quirked a brow when she saw Bucky, and he gave her an awkward salute and shuffled away. 

“You look wonderful,” you said to Sarah. 

“So do you, and he seems to notice,” Sarah nudged you, nodding towards Bucky. He had found Sam and the kids, who were already swarming him. 

“We’re just friends,” you bit your lip. Sarah chuckled. 

“And I’m a virgin. We all have our crosses to bear.”

You didn’t have a good retort to Sarah’s comments and decided to just follow her to the bar instead. You were going to need wine to get through this party if she was going to make suggestive comments. 

Two glasses of wine later, you were starting to feel calmer. The kids practiced patience when opening their presents, and the adults enjoyed the buffet-style food. One of Sam’s family members put on a Marvin Gaye record, and with the liquor free-flowing, dancing was bound to occur. Bucky was hiding on the edge of the dance floor, nibbling on a cookie. You joined him. 

“Did you dance in the 40s?” you asked. Bucky finished his cookie. 

“Yeah, it’s how I got all the girls,” he smiled. The wine flowed through your head, and you offered him your hand. He looked down at your hand and then back at you. 

“C’mon, get the girl Barnes. Take me dancing,” you grinned, even as your heart was thundering. Bucky took your hand, following you onto the ‘dance floor’ (carpet). He gave you a quick spin until you fell into his chest. 

“Falling for me already?” Bucky smirked. You understood why he was a stud back in the day. 

“Shut it,” you smiled. The music was upbeat enough that you weren’t left in the uncomfortable holding pattern of a slow dance. Bucky knew what he was doing, though, even if you didn’t. You let him spin you and pull you close, your breath catching every time. By the end of the third song, you’re out of breath and need another drink. Bucky follows you to the bar, a few steps behind. “You’re a good dancer,” you commented. 

“You’re a good partner,” Bucky offers you a wine glass, topping it off. You smile in thanks, taking a sip. You want to dissolve under his gaze. 

“You’re unbelievable,” you murmured. 

“Why?”

“You know why,” you quirked a brow. Bucky just chuckled, looking down. He was cute when he was bashful, and you hated him for it. When he looked up at you, you were caught by how blue his eyes were. 

Coughing interrupted you. 

Both you and Bucky turned to see Sam. His arms were crossed. 

“I need you two to hook up already,” Sam exclaimed. Bucky rolled his eyes, but you just glared at Sam. Your glare was enough to send him away. You turned back to Bucky with burning cheeks. Bucky rolled his shoulder with the metal arm like he was preparing for something. 

“Buck–”

He cut you off with a kiss. It stole your breath, and if it weren’t for his hand on your waist, you would’ve collapsed to the ground. When he pulled away, you looked at him with shock and adoration.

“I was tired of waiting,” he murmured. “And Sam was right.”

“Does it pain you to admit Sam was right?”

“Every time,” Bucky grinned. 

You kissed Bucky again and again until Sarah’s sons were making fake kissing noises in the living room, Sam was cheering, and you and Bucky were wondering how you ended up spending Christmas at the Wilsons. 

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love That Burns ~ Ending 2 ~ 41

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 3,165ish

Summary: You and Logan try to mend your relationship.

Notes: Officially starting the Logan movie scenes!

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

“The adamantium is poisoning me,” Logan admitted as he held you tightly against him. The two of you were cuddled up in your bed, cleaned up, and clothed after the make-up sex the two of you shared.

“What?” You moved to sit up slightly, looking down at his face.

“My adamantium skeleton is what’s killing me.”

“And it’s causing you pain?”

“Yes.”

“And your healing abilities, they’ve—“

“They’re still there, just much slower and leaving scars.”

“Like mine.”

“I think yours are better at this point, sweetheart.” You closed your eyes as you tried not to cry. Logan’s hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb rubbing up against your skin. “Don’t cry, honey. You know I can’t stand that.”

“There has to be something someone can do—that I can do— to help you.”

“There’s nothing, baby.”

“Where does it hurt right now?”

“Sweetheart—“

“Tell me.”

Logan sighed. “My wrists.” 

You took the hand he had on your cheek and kissed the inside of his wrist before grabbing his other hand and doing the same thing. “Where else?”

“My shoulders.” 

Logan’s shoulders were easy to access since he was wearing one of his white tank tops. You pressed kisses around his shoulder closest to you before moving to the next one. Then you warmed up your hands, not too much to burn him, and placed a hand on each of his shoulders. Logan let a relieved moan slip from his lips as he closed his eyes. You pressed a kiss to his bearded jaw as you continued to try to ease some of his pain like you were his personal heating pad.

“Stop,” he eventually groaned.

You quickly removed your hands and sat up. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, no,” his hands ran down your arms, “never. It’s just… I’m supposed to be making amends. You shouldn’t be taking care of me like this.”

“James.” You shot him a brief glare. “This is you making amends by letting me take care of you.”

“But I need to be taking care of you like I’ve failed to do.”

“You are. This bed. Me staying here. How hard you are constantly working. You are taking care of me. But you need to let me take care of you, too.” You ran a hand through his hair, beginning to warmly massage his scalp. “No more sleeping alone. No more secrets, even if you’re trying to protect me.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

You sighed. “I hate it when you say that.” You moved to straddle Logan, careful not to put too much weight on his body. His hands held your hips as your hands came up to his face. “You deserve good things, Logan. You are not a bad person or an animal.”

“I—“

You placed a hand over his mouth. “No. You are good. You deserve good. You deserve me.” You began tearing up, hating when Logan got this way. You just wanted him to believe you. “I love you, James.”

“I know, I know,” he reached up and cupped your face, thumbs wiping the stray tears. “I’m sorry. I love you, too, sweetheart.”

“Tell me.”

“What?”

“Tell me what you deserve. You need to start believing it.”

Logan sighed. “I am good… I deserve good… I deserve you.” He pulled you down and kissed you softly. “Thank you.”

~~~

Logan and you went down for breakfast together, holding hands. Caliban was already in the kitchen, readying some food.

“Not that I’m unhappy the two of you have made up,” Caliban started, “but next time, I would appreciate it if you weren’t so loud.”

“Thought you were out in the tank,” Logan grumbled.

“I was.”

“Then wear some earplugs next time.”

“Be nice,” you chided, patting Logan’s arm. “Sorry, Caliban.”

“Thank you,” Caliban responded. “Breakfast is free game. I’m going to eat with Charles. Give you two some more time alone.”

“Thanks.” You elbowed Logan as he reached for a pancake.

“Ow,” he grunted, looking at you with a confused expression. “What?”

“Say thank you.”

Logan sighed, “Thank you.”

Caliban took the tray as he shook his head, and headed out to Charles. Logan wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into his side before kissing your head.

“Got to work today,” he said.

You rested your head on him and sighed. “Okay… I’ll miss you.”

“Good,” he smirked. “I’ll be late because I have to pick up Charles’ meds.”

“If I give you a list, can you run to the store for groceries?”

“Sure.”

~~~

“I love you,” Logan whispered against your lips before stealing a kiss.

“I love you, too,” you replied. “Be safe. I’ll have dinner ready for you whenever you get home.”

“You don’t need to wait up.”

“But I want to… I don’t sleep well without you.”

“Try for me, sweetheart. I’ll wake you up when I get home.” He pressed another kiss to your lips. “I promise.”

“If you don’t, I’ll burn you to a crisp.”

Logan chuckled. “I don’t doubt it, honey.” 

He kissed your forehead before walking to the limo. You leaned against the doorway, wrapped up in one of his flannels, and watched him drive away. You hated how far away Logan had to drive for work, but you understood why he needed to keep Charles away from others.

~~~

Logan was exhausted. It was well past midnight as he pulled up to the smelting plant. He was later than he had hoped, but he had to argue to get Charles’ meds. Limping into the plant with arms full of groceries, Logan tried to be as quiet as possible. The small TV was playing quietly in the makeshift living room, providing the only light. The changing scenes increased the light on your sleeping figure on the couch. 

Logan smiled softly, shaking his head. He made quick work of putting the groceries away and getting Charles’ meds ready for the next day before he carefully came over to you. He crotched down beside the couch to get a good look at your relaxed features. 

“I missed this,” he whispered, mostly to himself. “I missed coming home to you.”

Biting down a groan, Logan swept you into his arms and headed up the stairs to your room. It wasn’t until he set you down in your bed that you started to wake.

“Logan?” You whimpered as he pulled away.

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Go back to sleep,” he whispered. “I’m gonna clean up and be right back.”

“Okay…”

As quickly as Logan’s failing body allowed him to, he had showered and changed before coming back to you. You were back asleep. He carefully picked you back up and laid down before placing you on top of him. It wasn’t easy on Logan’s joints to sleep with you on top of him, and he knew there would be long-term effects if he continued, but he had to. Sleeping without you anymore wasn’t an option for either of you. Maybe he could scrape enough money for a larger bed. Perhaps for your birthday. But you would hate him for spending money on you like that. You deserved it, though; you deserved a life much better than this. A life that you two once shared.

~~~

The months following were not easy, and you and Logan still struggled, but it was better. The two of you would fight but quickly work it out. There was no going to be angry.

Charles was gradually getting worse. Logan would still only allow you to visit Charles when he was there. It was frustrating, but when you experienced each of his seizures, you understood more and more.

You noticed that Logan was getting worse, too. It was heartbreaking to see the man you love struggling, and you couldn’t do much about it.

One day, you noticed that Logan had reading glasses in his pocket. You kept an eye on him, seeing if he would ever use them, though you knew he needed to. It was a few days later when you caught him trying to read a newspaper without them. He kept grunting as he squinted his eyes and moved the paper back and forth. You sighed, shaking your head at his stubbornness. You went and took the glasses from his jacket pocket. Quietly, you came up behind him and leaned over, slipping the glasses onto his face.

“Hey!” He protested.

“Use them,” you told him, pressing a kiss to his head.

“Don’t need them.”

You laughed. “Yes, you do.”

“Don’t you think they make me look… ancient?”

You sat down in the chair next to Logan and guided his head to look at you. “I think they’re sexy.” 

Logan scoffed. “Sexy? Really?”

“Honey, anything that helps you is sexy to me.” You leaned forward and pecked his lips. “Use them. Stop being stubborn.”

“As you wish, sweetheart.”

~~~

Months later, you noticed Logan struggling more and more. He had a bigger limp and a cough now. His hair was grayer and there were more wrinkles. But he was still your Logan, your love.

“It’s nice to see you and Logan back together,” Charles said as you brought him his breakfast one morning, “where you belong.”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I just wish I could do more to help ease his pain.”

“You’re doing enough, my dear. You’re doing enough to ease all of our pains.”

You kissed the top of Charles’ head. “I’ve got to go before Logan drags me out of here.”

“Maybe one day you can stay longer.”

“Maybe… See you later, Charles.”

Logan was waiting for you outside the tank, ready to go to work. “How is he today?” He asked, placing his hands on your hips and pulling you into him. 

“Sort of there.”

“And how are you?”

“Tired.”

“Get some rest today, then, baby.”

“Can’t you just stay home today?”

“Can’t. We need the money.”

“Yeah…” you nodded, looking down. 

“Hey,” Logan’s fingers hooked under your chin and gently pushed your face up. “What else is going on?”

“I just… I’m worried… Something is coming. I—I can feel it.”

“You’re safe.”

“Maybe I’m not. Maybe we’re all not safe.”

Logan sighed, glancing at the time on his watch. “I’ve got to go, but we’ll talk more about this when I come home.” He softly kissed you. “I love you, darlin’.”

“Love you, too.”

~~~

Logan knew he should have gone home, but he was tired and needed a few more jobs tonight. He decided to get some alcohol and take a nap in the back of the limo. He woke up to a group of men trying to steal the limo’s tires. Logan was forced to fight them off with his claws, getting shot multiple times. 

After killing three of them, the rest drove off. Logan got back into the limo and drove to a nearby gas station. He was thankful that he kept extra clothes in the trunk, just in case. Leaning over the sink, Logan grunted and groaned as the blood hit the porcelain and the bullets slowly and painfully forced their way out of him. 

Logan thought of you as he stood there. He knew that you would want to know what happened, but he was scared too worry you too much. He knew you already were worried. But, needing to hear your voice as he cleaned up, he called you.

“Hello?” Your sleepy voice filled the bloody gas station bathroom.

“Hey, baby,” Logan breathed out, trying to keep the pain from you.

“What’s wrong? Wait— Logan, it’s late. Why aren’t you home?”

“Just needed to pick up a few more jobs tonight.”

“Okay… but why does it sound like you’re in pain?”

Logan sighed. He should have known better than trying to hide this from you. “I’m fine, sweetheart. Just had to fight off some thieves.”

“Logan—“

“Needed to hear your voice.”

“Then come home. Rest. We can worry about money in the morning. Let me take care of you.”

“I’m fine, darlin’. I’ll be home in the morning.”

“Logan—“

“Sorry for waking you up. Go back to sleep. Love you.” 

He hung up before you could get another word in.

~~~

Logan picked up three more jobs. One was a morning funeral, where he had been recognized as the Wolverine by a woman who insisted she needed his help. After avoiding her, Logan went to the hospital and grabbed the needed drugs for Charles. 

He got into his limo, only for a man to enter through the back. Logan turned around, ready to yell at the man.

“As I live and breathe, the Wolverine,” the man commented. “And he’s a junkie now.”

“Who the fuck are you?” Logan asked.

“You know, you got some buckshot in your door. I heard you was in Phoenix. But then, last night, some friends of mine in Texas HP called and told me they found three dead cholos in a pullout on 54. Not unusual, I know. Except one was missing a hand, another one a leg. So they was thinking it was either an escaped tiger or Freddy Krueger. But neither one of them can drive, one being fictional, the other one extinct. And since the wheel lugs they found belonged to a ’24 Chrysler and, well, this is a ’24 Chrysler… She found you yet?”

“Who?”

“Well, I guess there’s two of them… your girl and Gabriela.” Logan tensed at the mention of you. “Y/N’s been off our radar for a while now, but we know it’s only a matter of time before she finds you. Though, she’s not our main priority. See… I’m not looking for you, Wolvie, or your girl—well, anymore. I’m looking for someone who’s looking for you. She took something of mine when I wasn’t looking. Something for which I am responsible. Mexican lady. Has her sights on you now. Doesn’t ring any bells?”

“I don’t know any Gabriela, so get the fuck out of my car.”

“Oh. You know…” The man moved closer. “I know what you’re hiding, amigo. The old cue ball south of the border.”

“What do you want?”

“A little cooperation.” He handed Logan a business card. Logan made no move to grab it, forcing the man to toss it at him. “I’m a fan, by the way.”

The man left the car, and Logan picked up the business card. The business name was eerily familiar: Alkali Transigen. The man’s name was Donald Pierce, and he was apparently head of security. Logan’s stomach dropped, knowing that this wasn’t a good thing.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “Fuck!”

~~~

Logan didn’t return home the next morning, nor did he return your calls. You were growing concerned. 

“We’re out of meds,” Caliban told you after he brought Charles lunch. “Logan was supposed to be back with them. He’s not having a good day.”

“Something’s wrong,” you said. “He won’t answer my calls either.” 

You tried to get your mind off of everything by doing the laundry. Only, you found an adamantium bullet in Logan’s pocket. That broke your heart and made you angry at the same time.

You walked out of the plant and began pacing, feeling your skin heat up. If Logan didn’t return soon, you would have to find a way to get Charles’ meds without a vehicle. You would also need to find out where Logan went and confront him about the bullet. The familiar sound of the limo and the gate opening caught your attention. Logan pulled up, and you bulleted to the limo, launching yourself at Logan before he could fully stand up.

“Hey,” Logan coughed as you gripped him tightly. “What’s going—“

“You don’t get to do that!” You shouted, pulling back and shoving him against the limo. “You don’t get to call when things aren’t okay and then drop off the face of the earth!”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I… I’ve been working.”

“You still had time to call me back. Even just to say that you were still alive! You’re so frustrating, you know?”

“Honey—“

“And this!” You pulled out the adamantium bullet. “Found this while doing the laundry. Are you planning on blowing your brains out? At one point, only your memory would die with this, but now… this could actually kill you, Logan! Why the hell wouldn’t you tell me that this was your plan? What happened to not leaving me?”

“I don’t really have a choice, sweetheart. I’m dying.”

“But you’re not even fighting to stay anymore! I thought… I thought that I mattered to you.”

“You are everything to me, baby. But this is something neither of us can fight.”

“Just… go. Go inside. Charles needs his meds. He had a seizure this morning… And I need to cool down.”

“Y/N…” 

But you walked off faster than he could catch up to you.

~~~

When you finally decided to go inside, you found Logan in his room. The door was cracked open, allowing you to lean against the doorframe and peek in. Logan was sitting on the edge of his bed. He had a variety of alcohol in front of him with one of the bottles opened. His right hand had his claws out, only they weren’t all the way out. They were stuck. He was grunting in pain as he pulled at one of the stuck claws, trying to get it out.

You quickly entered and knelt in front of him. Glancing up at him, you could tell that he was ashamed. You took his hand from his claw and set it to the side before taking the hand with his claws out. Warming up your hands, you carefully used them to try to ease the pain.

“You don’t have to do this, sweetheart,” Logan grumbled. “I can take care of myself.”

“Clearly, you can’t,” you responded.

As you took care of his hand, the stuck claws slowly pushed out to their normal length. You carefully kissed the tip of each of them before kissing Logan’s knuckles, noticing the puss now oozing from where the claws were pushing out. Both of his hands were now trembling, making your heart break further for him.

“I don’t want you to remember me like this,” he quietly admitted, a tear rolling down his cheek. “Weak… pathetic…”

“You are neither of those things, Logan,” you told him. You cupped his face as you stayed knelt between his legs. 

“I should have told you about the bullet.”

“You should have.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

“And I’ll call you back next time.”

“You better.”

Logan sighed, feeling the pain settle in him. “Can we lie down in your bed?”

Without a verbal response, you stood up and took Logan’s hands. You guided him over to your room and allowed him to lie down first. You warmed your body up as you moved yourself behind him, spooning him. He sighed, relaxing into you.

“Relax, honey,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to his neck. “I’ve got you.”

next chapter >

[multifandom-exe]

Leather Jackets and Ketchup ‘Mishaps’- S.Black x Reader 

Word Count: 2.7k (my longest yet :p)  Request: hey there! can i get one with prompts 79, 174 and 175, with Sirius, please? thank you!  Prompts: 79. No its just… I cant believe your wearing my clothes”  174. “Did you see what she was wearing?”  175. “So what if I had sex with your ex?” 

A/N: this is a rewrite of an old fic from nearly 5 years ago. Find the terrible original here. Lmk if ive improved.  Warnings: None rlly, swearing, kissing, marlene hate (sorry marlene your my wife but youre sacrificed to the story) 

 A hogsmeade weekend! Practically the only thing keeping the students of Hogwarts from pitching themselves off the astronomy tower during their 6th year. You and Lily had planned to meet up with the boys later on for some drinks an some shopping, definitely spurred on by Lilys growing affection to James (no matter how much she denies it). 

You stared into the full-length mirror stuck to the wall. It felt as though something was missing in your outfit. Youd worn your favorite today, but it still didn't feel like enough. Lily sat on the bed behind you, looking as perfect as ever. 

“Can you stop hogging the mirror please, i need to do my makeup!” She nudged you with her leg that was hanging off the bed as a giggle bubbled up from her throat. 

“My outfit is not suffering because you want to look nice for James Potter!” You turned to her with that sly look as her face dusted rosy, pink, whilst she spewed phrases of denial. 

“Well, my makeup is suffering because you want to look nice for Sirius.” Now it was your turn to gasp.  

She had this idea that you were in for it with Sirius. You disagreed of course. Sure, i mean, you had feelings for him, you liked him. He was funny, attractive, and almost as smart as you. But it had been 6 years, if there was going to be any movement on that front, besides flirting that could make Casanova blush, it probably would've happened already. You were trying to let it go, but its difficult when you see him every day. 

“Not true! You know he doesnt like me like that, im totally over it!” You began observing yourself in the mirror again, as she gave you that, ‘whatever you say’, look. “Speaking of, though, a nice leather jacket is just what this outfit needs, do you have one?” Lily agreed and turned to look into her trunk for a jacket.  

“No, sorry sweetheart”.” You jutted your lip out and frowned a little. There goes your perfect outfit.  

After a little more observing in the mirror, whilst you watched Lily apply her makeup on the floor, the obvious thought entered your head. “You know who does have a leather jacket.” That mischievous smirk littered your face. “Sirius.”  

Lily then put a head in her hands, and you could see her reaction in the reflection of the mirror. “Sure you don't have a thing for him?”  

“Shut up lils, your just jealous of how goooood im gonna look.” You guessed Sirius wouldn't have a problem with it. Youd shared a lot of things over the years. Blankets, books, food, tea, you name it. 

She chuckled at that and finally stood up, giving herself a final glance in the mirror. “You know the boys will have a fit when they see you in that.” 

You rolled your yes, laughing softly. “Yeah, because those boys are the authority of fashion.” 

She giggled at that too, before picking up everything she needed for the day. “Well, whilst you commit grand larceny, im going to go get my pancakes!” She drawled sarcastically as she turned to leave.  

You muttered a soft goodbye as you also grabbed everything you needed. The boys had said before that you were free to use their dorm whenever, although Remus did add ‘Not for nefarious purposes Casanova’. You slipped out of your dorm, your boots hitting the floor with purpose. A woman on a mission. A leather jacket mission.  

The door to their dorm creaked open slowly, as if you were trying not to wake them. but you were surprised to see they weren't all still asleep right now, desperately savoring every extra 5 minutes. 

 Their dorm was an exact reflection of each of them. Vinyl records of the latest rock bands on the walls. Books and chocolate strewn about. Stubbed out cigarette butts (Don't tell Minnie). Dirty shoes and outfits from the last quidditch game. Mugs of tea forgotten about. It was so them. Everything you loved about your friends, all perfectly wrapped up in one little room. You made a mental note to spend more time here. 

As your eyes glanced around the room, you finally spotted it, dangling across the back of a chair that was pushed against his desk. It was surprising that it was actually here, since Sirius was very rarely seen without it. It had S.B written on the back in big white letters, and various patches from bands. But according to Mary, ‘the back of my outfit isn't my problem because i can even see it’. 

You slid it across your shoulders and instantly felt more comforted. The familiar scent that you loved enveloped you. You turned and checked yourself out in the boy's mirror. Now this was a complete outfit. Perfect for a Hogsmeade weekend. 

You slipped back out of the boy's dorm and started making your way down to the great hall for breakfast. 

You pushed open the heavy doors to the great hall, the smell of fresh breakfast food immediately hitting you. You skipped down to the table, going to meet up with the girls to discuss the future Hogsmeade antics.  

You giggled as you jogged past the marauders. With the prettiest smile, you waved to them. “Hi boys, don't cheap out in Hogsmeade later!”. You rushed to meet with the girls, oblivious to all the eyes that were on you. 

As you sat down, the boys, who were a little further up the table, all sat gawking at you. James nudged Sirius excitedly. “D’ya see what Shes wearing mate?” 

He had seen, which is why, when James had asked him, he had barely been able to form a response. He had felt the wind be knocked out of him as he saw you giggling and waving, clad in his leather jacket. It was almost like he was in a trance, raking his eyes over every inch of your frame, wondering how on earth that happened. And how he could get it to happen every single day. His thoughtfulness was broken by his friend's voice belting across the table. 

“Oi, (Y/N), you look absolutely astonishing in Padfoot’s jacket!” The sound of your name made you whip your head up, as you giggled with a blush coating your cheeks. Just as quickly as he had shouted, Lily had shouted back. 

“Dont be jealous James, just because you don't want to share him!” This caused all your friends to burst into a fit of laughter, all except one. Marlene was holding a firm glare at you from across the table. 

The boys vehemently questioned Sirius for the next 5 minutes. Questions of ‘did you know she was gonna wear that?’ or ‘did you finally make a move?’ or ‘i bet you're loving this’. The latter wasn't really a question, more a very correct observation which made him blush. 

Their conversation was cut short however, when they heard a clatter of plates from a little way down the table. They all snapped their heads toward the sound and found you and Marlene glaring at each other across the table. If looks could kill, wow. It had honestly only been a few minutes since you arrived, and they were all puzzled as to what could've happened in such a short time. 

And then, as if you were reading their minds. “So what if you had sex with your ex?” Came from you, as you flicked your head to the side condescendingly. The boys' jaws dropped; they probably would've hit the floor if there wasn't a table in the way. James looked as if he was watching the best soap opera of his life. 

Sirius and Marlene had a fling a few weeks back. It obviously meant more to her than him. And through the pangs of jealousy, you had comforted her. But it seems that wasnt enough for her, she wanted you to drop Sirius entirely. 

Sirius felt a jab into his ribs, and he quickly dragged his eyes away from the scene. “Ow!” He mouthed silently, trying not to disturb the tension. Remus rolled his eyes and mouthed back, ‘did you actually sleep with her?’. Now it was Sirius’ turn to roll his eyes as he whispers. ‘Obviously not, you know she doesn't like me back’.  

‘Yeah, he wishes. Peter added quietly, which caused Sirius to blush and tut, before they all turned their attention back to the scene. 

“Listen, im sorry he didn't want you, but that's no reason to treat me horribly, because he wants me now, is it?” The condescension in your voice was enough to grate on anyone who was on the receiving end. 

“Not wrong on that one.” Remus whispered quietly, causing Sirius to whack his arm lightly. HIs heart rate sped up like crazy. Did you know he liked you, all this time? Or where you just trying to get under her skin. The thoughts felt overwhelming.  

And then, It almost felt as if time slowed, as they watched Marlene snap. She grabbed the jug of pumpkin juice on the table and dashed it all over you. You had an utterly shocked look on your face. Not just because you were covered in pumpkin juice, but also because you were slightly impressed, she stood up for herself.  

But alas, war does not stop because of bravery. Your hand quietly slid a bottle of ketchup under the table as you spoke. Marlene had missed it, but it didn't get past Sirius. “You know Marlene, I wouldn't wanna ruin that pretty fake blonde hair of yours.” You laughed cynically, lifting the ketchup bottle.  

That second, Sirius jumped from his seat and ran down the table, grabbed your waist and hauled you up in his arms. He was already dragging you away as you pressed down on the bottle, squirting it all over her. 

“Ugh! You Bitch!” She screamed as she desperately tried to rub the ketchup from her face, with the girls next to her trying to calm her down. 

You laughed maniacally as you struggled against Sirius's grip while he carried you out of the great hall. Phrases of ‘let go Sirius!’ and ‘it wasn't my fault!’ fell from your mouth. Youd eventually stopped struggling about halfway to the common room, accepting your fate. 

When you finally reached the common room, he dropped you lightly onto one of the couches, and loomed over you, like a teacher about to reprimand you. 

“Sirius! Why did you drag me out of there I was winning?” The adrenaline was still clearly running through your veins as you laughed. By the look on his face, he did not find it funny. 

“(Y/N). You’ve just lost your friendship with Marlene, and potentially just sacrificed your friendship with Lily and Mary.” That definitely soured your mood. Suddenly, it wasn't very funny. “Why, in Godric Gryffindors name, did you do that?” 

You threw your hands down on the couch and pouted. “You wouldn't get it, Pads.” You sighed and tried to turn away from him. 

He had crouched down to your level now, turning you back to him with a hand on your knee. “Oh yeah, what’s so possibly bad that it warranted staining a girl, apparently fake blonde hair, news to me by the way, red with ketchup?” You tried to hide your giggle at his comment and did your best to keep silent. “Seriously, did she insult you or something? Whatever it was couldn't have warranted that.” 

You sighed again as the argument replayed through your head. You could already feel the anger building up in you again. “You should’ve heard what she was saying about you Sirius, it was all ‘he’s this, he’s that’ And then! She insinuated I slept with you, for my own personal gain, not because I liked you, not because Im in love with you, she thought I did it for bragging rights! Which is absolutely ridiculous by the way. Anyone who uses someone for bragging rights is absolutely disgusting, especially if they use you. So no, her insulting me wasn’t enough to warrant ketchup hair, but insulting you was!”  

You were bordering on shouting at this point, although your anger was misdirected. You took a deep breath and tried to calm your shaking hands. After a beat, you lifted your head to look at him, worried youll still find an angry look in his eyes. 

Instead, he was gaping at you. You furrowed your brows, questioning the incredulous look on his face. 

“You said you loved me.” He whispered lightly, worried if he spoke too loudly the words might crack his resolve.  

Your eyes widened as you studied his features. “I did not!” You tried to insist but the shock caused it to come out smaller than intended. 

“Yes, you did! You love me!” A smirk spread across his face as he pointed a finger at you. There was another beat of silence, before you jumped up from the couch and tried to run away from him. 

“Come here!” Unfortunately for you, his tall stature was not just for show, as he quickly caught up with you.  

He caught up with you as you rounded the couch again, pushing you down onto it. He had you captured between his arms. All he did was stare at you, into your eyes. 

“Im sorry your jackets covered in pumpkin juice.” You spoke softly in the space between you two. 

“It's fine i just...” His eyes racked over your figure once more. “I just can't believe your actually wearing my clothes.” 

You giggled in response and muttered low apologies. 

“Plus, I like the taste of pumpkin juice” He smirked, capturing your gaze again. Obviously, you didn’t get the memo, as your response was… 

“Taste? I know you're a dog, but you don't lick your-” but your words were soon cut off by Sirius’ voice. 

“For once in your life, be quiet!” He chuckled lowly before leaning in to capture your lips in a kiss. It was slow at first, soft, almost anticipatory, but it quickly sped up, almost like it was 6 years of emotions spilling out into one kiss. 

“I love you too, by the way” He breathed out as you broke apart, your foreheads laying against each other 

“Well id be very upset if you kissed somebody you didn't like, like that” You giggled, lightly running your hand through his hair. 

“And i love seeing you in my jacket by the way. But maybe next time tell the truth, and dont antagonize and cause a scene.” His reprimand fell short since he had the dopiest grin on his face. “But thank you for standing up for me.” 

You didn't think your grin could get any wider, “Of course.” You lay another kiss on his lips. Maybe Lily was right, you are definitely in for it. 

 Bonus 

The portrait hole swung open as James, Remus and Peter tried to search for their friend. Who was wrapped up in his own little world with his sweetheart on the couch. 

They stepped through as James tried to shout up to the dorm. “Pads? We're going to Hogsmeade soon!” His shout wasnt answered, so he glanced around the room. He found you two nuzzled together on the couch, only breaking away at the sound of his voice.  

“Oh, Christ alive, Pads get a room! Peter cover your eyes!” James wrapped a hand around his friend's eyes as you and Sirius burst into a fit of giggles on the couch.  

“Were coming!” You both untangled from each other and shifted off the couch. 

“I cant believe that was what got them to confess! A jacket! D’you think it would work the same if i wore Lilys clothes?” And with a smack of the back of his head from Remus, the group left to finally enjoy their Hogsmeade weekend. 

A/N: lmk how i did, leave requests for any hp character. comment for taglist. i love u

[episodes-ff]

Righteous or Wrong?

Anaya

Waking up from the comfort of the guest bed, I rubbed my tired eyes with a long awaited yawn before stretching. Feeling over and coming up empty, I frowned and rolled my eyes at the realization of where I was and why. Shaking my head, I leaned up with irritation before going to see if my baby girl was awake. Being that Maya is a daddy's girl at heart, I agreed to let her stay in our bedroom while I took the guest bed for some peace of mind. Walking up to the door, I knocked quietly before looking inside in confusion as I saw the empty room. Hearing her cute murmurs, I slowly descended the stairs before peering around to see her smiling and clapping as he fed her.

Feeling the tug at my heart, I wiped the dreadful tears as I watched what was left of my now broken family. Shaking the memories off, I walked back up to the room to complete my morning routine. Putting on something simple but cute for the cold, I walked back down to the kitchen to grab a water and greet Maya. "Good morning, my pretty girl!" I cheesed kissing her cheeks as he stared me down while sipping his coffee. Taking in that she was already dressed, I slowly smiled before facing him. "Y-You did her hair?" "Ugh, yea um, I was gonna take her to the square for pictures with Santa today if that's ok with you?" He asked slowly sipping from his cup. Those beautiful fucking eyes of his! "U-Um yes it's fine. I'd better hurry then so I can make it to the courthouse. Have you seen car keys?" I snapped out of my thoughts looking around. Watching the sadness wash over his eyes as he clenched his jaw, he pulled them out of his pocket before placing them in my hand and walking out the kitchen. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I headed out the house.

Pulling up to the local courthouse, I retrieved my purse before walking in. "Hi, miss, how may I help you today?" "Yes, um, I'd like to file for an order of separation?" "I'm sorry to hear that sweetheart." "Thank you, ma'am." "And you're sure you want to go through with this?" "Positive, preferably now before I change my mind." "Um, no problem, do you have a copy of the marriage certificate? I'll also need your license and a piece of mail to verify your address. Do you also know your spouse's social?" "Yes, ma'am." "Okay. I'm going to have you fill out this paperwork and bring it back to me with those pieces of identification." "Thank you so much." "Any time." Taking a seat, I filled out the multiple sheets of paper before reaching in to retrieve my license. Looking at the wallet photo of our wedding day, I sighed remembering the day we walked into this exact courthouse to file our certificate. We were so in love, so happy, and so ready to explore our new lives, together. Terry had just finished his second tour, and he and I were stuck to each other like glue. Oh how the tables turned.

Rolling my eyes, I shook off my nerves getting up to return the paperwork. "Here you go." "Thank you so much. Let me just glance here to make sure nothing's missing." Watching her scan everything, her eyes shot wide as she looked at me. "Is there something wrong?" "I'm sorry, it says Richmond. Y-You're Terry's wife?" "Um, yes. Oh god, don't tell me he's slept with you too!" "No! N-Not at all. I'm Summer. I met Terry in Shelby Springs dealing with..." "Mike." I nodded understanding. "I moved out here after everything, but I didn't keep in touch. Has he been ok since the settlement?" "Oh he's doing just peachy, I'd say." I spat sarcastically. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't pry." "No, you're fine. I'm just going through a lot right now, hence why I'm here." "Well for what it's worth, I pray you both see happier days." "Thank you, Summer." "No problem, um?" "Anaya." "That's a pretty name." "Thank you." I nodded as she smiled sympathetically.

Placing my files back in my purse, I made my way out to the car. Taking a deep breath, the weight of the world melting off of my shoulders as I cried and cried and cried. You're doing the right thing here, Anaya... I think?

Terry

Placing Maya down for her nap, I closed the door to let her get her rest before stepping into Anaya's room to place her copy of baby girl's Christmas pictures on the side table. Stepping back into the hallway, I shuddered in shame as I made my way downstairs. My marriage is really over and I take all the blame for it. I have no excuses, no recourse, nothing left but my actions and consequences. I don't even fault Anaya in the way she's moving because I'm less than the man she deserves and I know it. I just want her to be happy. That's all I've ever fucking wanted. I owed it to her to do better and I failed miserably.

Hearing my ringing phone, I saw the familiar number calling as my heart rate quickened. "Hello? Summer, you good?" "Terry?" "Yea, it's me, are you in trouble?" "I'm fine. Forgive my language, but just what in the fuck do you have going on, Terry?!" "What do you mean?" "I just met your wife at the courthouse filing for separation? Say it's not true." She asked as my jaw clenched and my fist tightened at my side. "I'm not really up for talking about it, Summer." "Well, what are you gonna do to win her back?" "Nothing. I've hurt her too much with my choices, so I think the best thing for everybody would be for me to disappear." "Disappear? Disappear?! This isn't the Terry I know that came to Shelby and changed my life. What happened to him? Where's the fighter I know you are?!" "I'm done fighting, Summer. It's done, and I can't be selfish towards Anaya's feelings. I've done enough of that. I'll hit you up again." I conceded before ending the call.

Turning down the hall, I bumped into Anaya almost knocking her down before quickly catching her in my grasp. Dropping my hands from her side, I straightened up as we engaged in an intense stare down while she adjusted her clothes and I cleared my throat. Breaking the staring match, I moved out of her path and went into the kitchen grabbing the rental keys before leaving the house. Walking into the threshold of the bar, I scanned the room before finding Eric and smirking. "Ayeeeee, my man!" He boasted as I dapped him up. "Long time no see, E." "You as well! How's life been treating you, man?" He asked causing a deep sigh to leave my lips. "How much time you got?" I asked forcing a deep chuckle to leave his gut.

Finishing the recap of my current life's drama, he shook his head. "Mannnn, it should have been me she got with." He joked as I shook my head and downed the shot of whiskey. "Nah but seriously, how did you let this happen, man? You and Anaya were crazy about each other. Hell, you guys still are despite everything, I know it! How did you slip so low?" He asked as I rubbed my face in deep thought. "I don't know. Shit was going crazy at the time with Mike and the whole Shelby Springs situation. That's no excuse not even in the slightest." I defended holding my hand up. "I think I just- I held onto that shit. I put on a brave face for Anaya because that's what I felt was right. Her mom's cancer had come back and she was already going through so much. I didn't wanna overwhelm her with my shit, so I did what I do best; I ran away from it. I should have sought some professional help, but my pride wouldn't allow it. Not Terrence Richmond. I'm paying that price now and I gotta accept it, Eric." Nodding in understanding, he patted my shoulder as I blew a breath. "Hey, man, it's gonna be ok." "It won't but I'll live." I admitted as he sighed.

Diamonté

Waking up this morning, I stretched and rubbed my growing bump before smiling. My little boopie is growing so beautifully and I couldn't be any more happy. Making my way to the bathroom, I relieved my morning liquids before walking over to the sink. Washing my hands, I looked up and stared at my appearance in the mirror taking a glance at all my flaws. I was pretty of course, but something needed to change. I think I need a change. Figuring it's high time for a Mommy makeover, I got in touch with one of my girlfriends and had her spice up my look a little bit before I went to run some errands.

Coming home from a long day of pampering and spoiling myself, I waltzed in with my shopping bags and grabbed something quick to eat. Munching on my mangos and fruit, I savored the tastes as they danced on my tongue. "I'm home!" Armando announced as I heard his hard boots at the entrance of the house. "In the kitchen, babe!" "Ok, did you get the mail?" "No I forgot. Can you grab it?" "Of course, bebita." He conversed still in the front as he disarmed and put up his weapons. "Baby? What's this letter?" "What letter?" "You spent $450 dollars at the mall?" He said finally meeting me in the kitchen as he read through the bank statement. "Well, you see what had happened was I was getting some stuff for the baby and well you see, I-I."

Finally looking up to meet my gaze, his expression shifted. "What? What's wrong, baby?" I asked turning to glance around as he sat the letters down and stalked closer to me. "What's this?" "What's what? Oh, I got some stuff for the kitchen and the nursery. You wanna see?" "Nahhhh, not that. What's this?" He glinted putting to my hair as I fearfully backed into the counter. "I-I-I got a haircut. D-Do you like it?" "Ohhhh, I more than like it, baby." He grinned evilly as he pulled me closer. "Baby, wait!" I giggled as he cast his lips to my neck. "Nahhhh, bring that sexy ass here." He growled lifting me up and storming up to our bedroom.

"Daddy, oh shit!" I panted as he licked and sucked on my neck continuing to pound with my center. "You look so fucking good, mamita. So pretty with your hair like this. You like how I'm pleasing you, baby?" He husked grinding deeper into my wetness as he held me in place to stare at myself in the mirror. "Yesssss, bae!" "Mmmmm, that's my pretty fucking girl. Your pussy feels so good around my dick, exactly where it belongs. Biting my lip, I held onto him as I shook in his arms trying to fight the pressing feeling of relief. "Look at yourself, mami. Taking this dick like a fucking champion." "Daddyyyyyy!!! Fuck, I'm gonna cum!" "Not yet, baby, hold it!" "I can't, baby!" "Mmmm, fuck, just hold it for me, baby." He grunted slowing his pace as I tried holding on. "Baby, please! Please let me- I can't hold it!" "Yes you can." "No, I c- ohhhhh my god!" I cried out as my release squirted out over him and the floor. Feeling the hot and sticky mess running down my thighs, I gasped as he kissed and whispered soothing words down my body. "That felt good, baby?" "Yes!" "I'm glad it did... Cause now we gotta start over." "W-Wait!" I moaned tiredly as he carried me to the shower. All of this over a haircut?

Tags: @theereina @violetmuses @kumkaniudaku @kaylaahisthebestest- @kimuzostar @simpledopeme @mymindisneverhere @believeinthefireflies95 @tbmotw @brisunique @madxlov3 @playgurlxoxo @mauvecherie-writes @casualsludgeshoetoad @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @geneziesm @ghettogirly @goldenjasssy @megamindsecretlair @vivaalenaa @ranikyani @luuvprincess @perfectlyimperfectme @comfortzonequeen @melanin-honeyy @qdancer22 @strawberrymoon45 @luckygirlszn @kindofaintrovert @secretlifeoofmarpessa @cmbmjbfan @summwerella @ihateyallniggas @rebelrel0987 @cheracherachera @bhristpher @cocooned-butterfly @theblessedcap @deijalee @catha2003 @magik22 @pinkbuzzlightyrrr @sweettea-and-honeybutter @j0joworld @liv10002 @justicefordeanthomas @withoutmusiclifewouldbflat @brattyfics

[lazysoulwriter]

Electric Summer - Paul Mescal.

requested! hope u enjoy! ♡ SMUT! just read if u +18.

It was an ordinary day for the two of you, a hot summer's day. The air conditioning was on, relieving the stress that extreme heat brings. You were just on your respective phones, watching videos and showing each other funny things.

“Hey…” He began, approaching you on the bed. “Do you want me to go out and buy some popsicles?” You asked, knowing that the answer would be yes. “Yes, please!” You smiled.

He got up and started to put on more decent clothes - he was only in his underwear - so that he could go out and buy them. There was an ice cream shop near your apartment, so he wouldn't be long. “I love you, I'll be right back,” he said and gave you a kiss. “I love you!”

Paul is always so sweet and loving to you. Always showing you how incredible it is to have you as his partner.

Your thoughts fly to all the times he told you he loved you, all the happy times and… the sex. Ah… the sex. That thought took you to other places and before you could complete the thought, he was there, smiling with his cheeks red from the sun. And what was once cute… was extremely hot, delicious… Your man.

“What flavor do you want? I brought a bunch…” He said, placing them in front of you so you could choose. As much as the urge to pull him and start a make-out session right now was big, but the heat was even bigger. You pulled out a strawberry one and settled back on the pillow.

“Baby… It's really hot out there…” He commented, as he took off his clothes again, leaving on his white boxers, which made everything more attractive. “Take that shirt off too…” He said, unpretentiously. You took off the T-shirt you were wearing - an old one of his, much bigger than you. But underneath it, you were wearing nothing but lace panties. You felt his gaze latch onto your breasts right away.

You tried to keep looking at tiktoks on your cell phone, but you could feel his gaze on you. His lips were red from the popsicle, just like yours.

“As I said… It's really hot… Don't you want to cool off?” He asked, feigning innocence. “What do you mean? The air conditioning is already on.” You laughed, not really understanding. “No… Like this… Let me try… Excuse me, ma'am.” He said in a funny way and before you could laugh, his lips were on your breast. His mouth was cold from the ice cream, and goosebumps flew across your skin at the same moment. He sucked and let go, making a noise like a popsicle. “I love doing that, you know?” he said, laughing, and it was so sexy it was hard to explain. Before you could answer, he grabbed the other one and did the same. By then, your panties were gone and the popsicles were melted and forgotten in a glass on the side table.

He stood up slightly to remove his underwear so that you could see your favorite popsicle popping out.

And just as he did, you grabbed his member and sucked from start to finish, making a noise each time you pulled away. He held your hair in a ponytail, bringing you close.

“Baby…” he moaned. “Can I fuck you?” He moaned even more. “Please, let me fuck your pussy…” With those words, it didn't take much. You lay on the bed and waited for him to come, but he didn't.

“Whaaaat?” you moaned, half laughing and half whimpering.

“Come here…” He pointed to the armchair in your room, facing a mirror. “I want you to see me fucking you. Lift your ass up for me.” You could hardly believe what you were hearing and, before you could do as he asked, you turned around and kissed him passionately. “You know I love you, right?” you said. “Of course I know. And I love you too, hottie. Now, get on all fours for me.” He slapped your ass, which was sure to leave a big mark afterwards.

You positioned yourself in the armchair, comfortably, and after saying you were ready, you were filled by him. That cock you love so much. Your eyes closed and a scream came from your throat. He pulled your hair hard, making you raise your head “Look in the mirror.” And there it was. Your man fucking you the way you wanted, the way you liked. The muscles in his legs were evident as he held her waist tightly and slapped your ass.

This is heaven. Heaven comes fast with him. “Baby, I'm coming!” You screamed and he held you tighter and increased his movements. “Yes… Come on my cock… Let me feel you, come…” His words were enough, you came and felt your body go electric.

“Can I finish in bed?” He asked and you readily agreed. It was amazing to see him finish like that.

He quickly picked you up and put you on the bed, got on top and penetrated you gently, making you let out a moan. He liked to maintain eye contact when he came, so that's why he asked you to get on the bed, and, as he said, it didn't take long for him to remove the condom and look at you with puppy eyes. “Can I come on your tits?” You laughed and pulled him back in for another intense kiss. “You can do anything. I'm yours.”

Then you pulled on his cock a few times until he moaned loudly and came on your tits, just like he wanted.

“Fuck you baby…” He said, falling onto your side.

You caressed each other for a while in silence, until you heard the famous phrase: “Can I take a picture?” “Of my tits?” “Yes… With my cum… Wow… I really am an artist in everything I do.” “Shut up!” You laughed. “But yes, you can. As I said… I'm yours.” “Don't make me fuck you again…” He said, getting up and going over to his camera and shooting a few times until he got the perfect shot.

“I love you, you know?” he said, smiling. “You're so delicious.”

“Oh, really? Thank you.” You laughed. “You're the love of my life. I love you and I love your cock.

[paulyenvol6]

Bound by Flame (Chapter 15)

Contains: smut, fingering (f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, dubcon, possessiveness, edging, overstimulating, biting, bruising, gagging, dirty talk, degrading, mentions of words like slut and whore, jealousy, dom!Daemon, incest

Wordcount: ~4.24k

Masterlist of this story

Lord Jakor led Maera on the dance floor and just like she had done before with Daemon she let him put his hand on her waist.

Of course she preferred to feel her husband's hand but she didn't mind Jakor. He was a kind man and his eyes didn't have this maliciousness inside of them that she had seen in Cylvin's. And as Maera now found out, Lord Jakor was a fantastic dancer. He twirled her around so quickly that she let out a gasp but broke out in laughter shortly after.

"Too fast for you, princess?" he smiled but she shook her head.

"No no, my lord. I just wasn't expecting it."

The two of them moved to the music for another two songs until Maera wiped the sweat off her forehead and greedily inhaled for air.

"I think I need a break, my lord."

"Of course, princess. As you wish."

With these words he bowed deeply but her attention was suddenly drawn somewhere else. It was Daemon who just made his way through the crowd and he didn't look amused. Maera straightened up and breathed in a couple of times. He wouldn't be angry, she would just explain to him what happened. The girl knew very well about her husband's jealousy that even faded into possessiveness at times but this was a different case.

She looked at him as sweetly and adoringly as she could and reached out for his hand once he stood in front of her.

"How was it, my love?" she asked and he raised his eyebrows.

"Good."

She sensed that he was a little sulky so Maera thought it was best to distract her husband from his anger and instead continued to ask him about his friend.

"What did you talk about?"

"His life. My life."

She toyed with his fingers and lovingly ran her thumb over the back of his hand.

"Well, it seems like there wasn't a lot to talk about," she smiled but Daemon's face tensed.

"You're honestly surprised that I'm not in the mood to tell you about our conversation? After I've come back to find you dancing with another man? After I've told you not to do anything stupid."

She sighed and rested her hand on the side of his face.

"Daemon, we were only dancing. I love you and you only. I'm not interested in being close to anyone who's not you."

"Then why did you dance with him?" he hissed but then leaned down to kiss her forehead. This gesture made his niece smile because it hinted at the fact that he wasn't as angry with her as she had feared.

"He asked me and I didn't want to refuse after he saved me from Ser Cylvin Lannister. He was bothering me and I wanted to flee from the conversation with him which Lord Jakor noticed and so he stepped in."

"Cylvin Lannister?" Daemon spitted.

"Yes. He wouldn't leave me alone."

The rogue prince blared his teeth and threatingly looked around in the room.

"Where is he?"

But Maera, who most definitely didn't wish for any escalation tonight quickly grabbed his arm.

"It's fine, uncle. Really. Perhaps he has even left the feast already."

Daemon mumbled something she couldn't understand but seemed to let it go because his eyes wandered to Maera again. He chewed on his lips as if he intended to say something but changed his mind and just searchingly watched her.

"Should we go back to the table?" Maera asked after a while but Daemon didn't even twitch.

"Please, Daemon. You really are dramatising this."

Faster than she had been able to foresee it, his hand grabbed the side of her neck and he threatingly stroke her thin skin.

"Careful. You're forgetting yourself."

He lightly squeezed her throat but not so much that she was unable to speak.

"I'm sorry," she whispered and looked up to him under her lashes.

Daemon was satisfied with her answer and his hand wandered up to her cheek to soothingly caress her.

"Come," he then said shortly and started to make his way back to the table while pulling Maera with him.

Once Viserys spotted the couple she could see a crease between his eyes but she didn't have any time to think about it because she was already gently pushed to her chair which she took her seat on.

Daemon sat down as well and immediately poured some wine in his cup. And then after he had taken a sip he rested his hand on Maera's thigh; a possessive and owning gesture. He wanted to let everyone know that his niece wasn't their's to look at. She had always been his and just the thought of some lord lusting after his girl during the years of his exile when he hadn't been in king's landing to look after her made the blood in his veins boil. He would get her with child again, Daemon thought. So everyone would see that she was his alone and that they weren't to even think about her.

His hand on her thigh tightened and he knew that his nails digging in her flesh must hurt her but she didn't let anything show. Then his other hand took hold of her chin and he softly but firmly turned her head towards him.

"Look at me," he whispered and the image of Maera's big eyes made his cock swell. "You're mine."

She nodded, just a very slight and yet conscious movement.

"Yes. I'm yours."

In this moment he wished for nothing more than to be buried inside of her warm and inviting cunt and to pound into her until she was a whimpering mess underneath him. Make her eyes roll back, leave bite marks on her neck and feel her soft breasts in his hands. Toy with her nipples until they were hard.

Daemon dropped his hand from her cheek and the hand on her thigh left her body as well. Maera couldn't hide her displeasure and disappointingly waited for an explanation from her husband. But he just stared at the feast below with narrowed eyes while crossing his arms in front of him.

"What is it, uncle?" she asked but he fully ignored her which was why Maera sank back in her chair sulking for he didn't give her any further attention.

Viserys had only caught half of what was going on between his brother and daughter but now observed them with a furrowed brow. Neither Daemon nor Maera noticed him though so both just kept their eyes to the scene before their eyes until the rogue prince tilted his head to glare at his niece.

"We'll go back to our chambers now."

Maera wasn't thrilled and frowned at him.

"Can't we stay a little longer? I wanted to talk to my brother again."

"I said now," Daemon said quietly.

She exhaled loudly but obeyed and stood up abruptly. Swiftly the girl approached her father and kissed his cheek.

"Goodnight, father."

Viserys clearly was overwhelmed with all of the things happening around him but he had no choice but to nod and dismiss her. Then Daemon got off his chair as well and bowed his head.

"Goodnight, your grace."

3 minutes later the couple entered their chambers. They had only exchanged a few words during their short walk but now that they had their privacy again Daemon sighed deeply and took off his coat.

"Draining," he just spoke while Maera took out her earrings.

"What is?"

Her uncle scoffed and then sank down on a chair as if he had never been more exhausted.

"All of it. These false courtesies and everyone being nice to each other although they secretly hate each other."

Maera didn't answer him and instead concentrated on undoing her hairstyle. But then Daemon's voice cut through the air and she stopped in her motion.

"Come here."

She turned around and saw her husband with a challenging look on his face. Maera followed his order and walked towards him, not sure what he wanted of her.

"On my lap," he gave further instructions and she pulled up her dress and then let herself down the wrong way around on his thighs.

Daemon immediately pulled her closer by gripping her arse and shoving her until she was above his cock. She gasped out and grabbed his shoulders to steady herself.

"Someone's being a little jumpy, mhm?" he chuckled and then pushed the hem of her dress up until he had access to what he had been looking for. Her smallcloth still covered his absolute favourite part of her body but the picture of her parted thighs alone made him sigh in satisfaction and he felt his cock twitch.

Maera apprehensively watched her uncle who took his time in observing her but then his hand wandered between her legs and light as a feather he brushed over her slit with his pointer finger. He was so teasingly and slow that Maera could already sense in what direction this was heading so she closed her eyes and surpressed a moan.

"Please… No teasing," she pleaded and Daemon sarcastically lifted his eyebrows.

"Oh so you think you deserve to just come immediately? You think you don't deserve a bit of suffering?"

"I do," she whined because he had started to rub her pearl very lightly. It was torture because while she loved the attention on her throbbing bundle of nerves it only increased her desire and Daemon wasn't eager to fulfill her wish yet.

"But please just… Please don't tease me."

His finger flicked her pearl and Maera whimpered quietly. She needed him to properly stimulate her nub, seven hells. This was tormenting, she thought and wished she could close her legs just to get rid of some of the tension in her lower belly. But then just as she was about to complain again his thumb pressed into her pearl and he started to circle it with so much intensity that she choked on her breathing.

"Fuck," Maera pressed and her head dropped to her uncle's shoulder.

But Daemon let out a disapproving sigh and yanked her head back by grabbing a fistful of her hair.

"You will look at me, little one. You will look into my eyes when you come. Well… if you'll come."

He was evil, she declared in her head. But she loved it at the same time. His fingers were so skilled that she already after merely a couple of minutes felt like she wouldn't be able to even stand on her own. Let alone bring out a coherent sentence. He now used two of his fingers to rub her pearl and now and then enclosed it to gently squeeze it. To be able to smoothly caress her he collected her wetness that leaked from her hole and spread it all over her cunt.

His focus was her pearl for now because that was the quickest way to bring her close to her release and that was what he aimed for right now. Daemon knew her body so well; every twitch and shiver and moan was familiar and he knew exactly what to do, where to intensify the pressure and what patterns she preferred when he rubbed her nub. Soon Maera felt the tension in her thighs contradict but just when she expected the pleasure to roll over her and she was already relieved that he would let her finish Daemon stopped and his niece cried out.

"No, please. Please let me come."

She had grabbed the fabric of his shirt and pulled at it in order to bend him to her will. Little did she know that her uncle was evil-minded tonight.

"Oh sweet girl," he purred wrongly and caressed her cheek. "You will come when I allow it. And I'm not yet sure if I will allow it."

With these words he suddenly picked her up and carried her to the bed as if she weighed nothing. Daemon carefully threw her onto the bed well aware that she was already too weak to properly catch herself. She was sprawled out on the bed for him, her dress pulled up and her eyes fluttering. Daemon inspected her smugly and then climbed on the bed to hover over her.

"Open your eyes. I want you to look at me."

His gaze was so heated and full of lust, he was like a predator looking at his prey. Once she had obeyed him Daemon's hand parted her thighs and he continued his torture. He circled and rubbed, flicked and pulled at her pearl, sometimes quick, sometimes slow, at times with so much pressure that she jumped and other times so lightly and carefully that she wasn't even sure if it was his hand or a blow of the wind.

The tension was heavily hanging in the air and Maera had the indescripable urge to stretch her limbs. The only sound was her loud and hectic panting as well as the sound of the slickness between her legs.

Daemon's left hand that wasn't occupied with her cunt had pulled down her dress a little so he could see more of her skin. Her left breast was slightly exposed so his hand had started to trail patterns on the swell of her breast that felt like fire to Maera. It didn't take him long until he sensed that she was close again. It was the way her eyelids fluttered, her whines became more frequent and her back arched. He just stopped his touch before she could release and his niece cried out again, close to tears now.

"Please, Daemon, please… Please I just want to…"

He was utterly cold to her begging and wrongly cooed her when he noticed the wetness in her eyes.

"Oh babygirl… There's no need to cry. Am I not taking such good care of your little cunt? She likes it so much, doesn't she?"

She was shaking but managed to nod.

"Y-Yes… but please…"

Her uncle cut her off by leaning down and kissing her trembling lips. In the meantime his hand came back to her pearl once more and he continued his evil play. Her moans and whimpers were smothered by his mouth but her hands clutched tightly at his muscular arms.

Daemon had obviously grown more eager and desireful as well so he finally managed to undress her so that her breasts and nipples were bare on display for him and he trailed his finger over her small chest. Additionally to the stimulation between her legs Daemon now also toyed with her nipples and Maera felt like exploding every second. He couldn't do it again, he couldn't deny her again. Despite feeling so powerless a voice in her head foresaw what might happen now and forced her to open her mouth.

"P-Please uncle…," she breathed quietly.

Daemon kissed her neck which left red marks while slowing his movement down until he eventually stopped and Maera was yet another orgasm denied. Now there were actually tears spilling from the corner of her eyes and she uncontrollably sobbed beneath him. He acted all pitiful but she knew better than to misinterpret it as that. He was the one making her feel that way after all and when Daemon leaned down to steal another kiss she tilted her head so that his lips landed on her cheek. Additionally a complaining sound escaped her mouth but then he forcefully turned her head to his liking by gripping her chin. He eventually got what he liked and savoured the taste of her pink lips while touching her all over her chest and collarbone.

Meanwhile Maera continued to pull at his shirt and pushed at his arms which Daemon ignored at first but then he growled dangerously and took both her wrists in one of his big hands and pinned them down above her head. She squirmed and shifted and lifted her hips to get closer to him and perhaps release herself of the tightness in her core but Daemon just firmly pressed her down.

"Mhmm," she mumbled against his mouth, clearly an attempt to ask him for more. That made him stop and he broke away from her lips. Instead he now traced her swollen lips with his thumb and watched her smugly.

"Aren't you such a little whore between the sheets? You know that this is not the kind of behaviour fit for a noblewoman. You're supposed to take what I give you, look pretty and keep your little mouth shut. Instead here you are whining and begging and asking me for more."

He shoved two of his fingers inside of her mouth and Maera moaned in surprise.

"You're a slut. A dirty pathetic slut who's so fucking eager to get her holes stuffed. It's embarrassing."

He pushed his fingers deeper until he hit the back of her throat and his niece choked.

"Yes, that's right. Do you wanna cry for me? Feel free to." He fucked her mouth with his fingers and made sure to keep her on the edge by brushing over her pearl every now and then. All of her senses were so overstimulated that she soon actually started to cry again but Daemon just kissed her tears away.

"You look so fucking pretty for me like this," he groaned in her ear while Maera struggled to take his fingers that continuously pushed deep inside of her mouth making her gag.

After a few more minutes he removed them again and she hiccuped a few times which made him smirk. Her face was red and sweat covered her forehead and the crying had made her eyes swollen. Now his finger left her nub as well and Maera looked up to him with submissive eyes. She couldn't even bring herself to beg him again because what good would it do? He wanted to make her suffer and no pleas of words out of her mouth would change his mind.

She almost didn't realized what he was doing at first but then she saw how Daemon removed his pants and breeches and his cock stood hard against his stomach. There was precum leaking from its tip which he collected with his hand and brought it to Maera's mouth. Obediently she licked his hand clean and Daemon contendly grinned. But then his hand suddenly reached out to the back of her head and he yanked her back so her neck was exposed.

"You want your cunt to get fucked?" he hissed and with the space he granted her, she nodded. "Want me to spread you open, mhm?"

Maera let out a yearning whine and then he actually brought his tip to her cunt. He pressed it against her throbbing and pulsating pearl which almost made her cry out but then he was fast to circle her entrance and then entered her.

These first few seconds were perhaps his favourite moment when he was fucking his wife, apart from releasing inside of her of course. When he felt the tightness of her cunt and the way her walls pulsated around him; when he stretched her open and Maera's eyes were big as coins. He panted heavily and then without giving her a second to adjust he started to pound into her. She would be able to take it, Daemon was certain. He didn't want to hurt her too much but it would be good for her to feel a little bit of uncomfortability. He cupped her breast with his right hand while his left held the side of her face.

"Taking me so well, babygirl… S'that want you want, mhm? Getting your slutty hole fucked like a common whore?"

She whined and threw her head to the side but Daemon wanted to hear her voice so he tilted her head. "Say it."

"Y-Yes… I want it, oh fuck…," Maera cried.

"Oh yeah I see how you enjoy it. Just like you enjoyed Lord Jakor's attention, didn't you, wife?"

She couldn't bring herself to answer him despite figuring that his anger about the situation at the feast would only reduce her chances of finishing.

"Did you enjoy his attention? Do you like it when men look at you like that? Is my admiration alone not enough for you, little niece?"

Maera bit her lip and wrapped her arms around his back bringing him closer to her.

"I-It is enough, D-Daemon… I-I only want your attention…," she managed to tell him eventually.

"Is that so?" he growled against her cheek and then his mouth wandered south to press kisses to her chin and neck. Well, at first they had only been kisses but soon he sucked on the soft and delicate skin of her neck in order to bruise and mark her. At times he used his teeth as well and bit her softly. Firm enough so she would have bite marks but not so much that she was in real pain.

"I'm gonna let them see," he growled while delivering sharp thrusts into her core.

"Gonna let them see that you're mine. If it's not enough I'm gonna fill you again with my see and make you all swollen with my child. Maybe that way the whole court, all those lords who lust after you will see who owns you, whose baby you're carrying and who fucks your pretty little cunt every night. I'm gonna show them that you're mine. My niece, my wife and mother of my children. And my little fuck toy to dump my seed into."

Maera felt her eyes rolling back at his words and gasped when his teeth dug into her flesh once more. The sting brought tears to her eyes but it was the good kind of pain, the kind that made her long for more. She was still craving a release though and just wished that her uncle would finally set an end to her suffering but he was busy fucking into her and marking her neck.

"Please, uncle," Maera pressed and her shivering hands gripped the sheets next to her.

"You wanna come?" he whispered and she was almost too scared that he would deny her her release again to answer him.

But then suddenly she felt his finger on her pearl again and the feeling was so intense that she thought she was going to come right on the spot. His deep and forceful thrusts in combination with the pleasure her bundle of nerves was receiving drove her closer and closer to the edge and Maera clung to the sheets as though her life was depending on it.

Soon Daemon noticed how close his niece was but this time to her suprise he didn't stop and the waves of pleasure washed over her. It was even more powerful because she hadn't expected it. Maera had assumed that he would stop once more and tease and edge her until she would pass out and so when the tension in her belly exploded she let out a surprised cry and arched her back. Her whole body was shaking and Maera helplessly searched for Daemon's body to hold on to him.

He didn't stop his thrusts into her cunt and neither did his hand leave her pearl. That was why once she had come down from her high her body twitched under his movement and it felt uncomfortable. She was overstimulated and now she squirmed to get away from him rather than seeking for more. Daemon noticed her attempts and laughed about it.

"Someone's getting a little overwhelmed, isn't that right?"

She looked at him with big eyes that started to fill with tears again.

"Does it hurt?"

She nodded and sniffed but Daemon didn't stop. He just continued what he was doing until eventually her cunt seemed to have recovered slightly and she found his touch welcoming again. That was only until he made her come a second time, this time by flicking and enclosing her pearl with his fingers. Maera moaned loudly and when he still kept up his assault on her center she threw her head to the side and pushed against his chest.

"Please stop… Please it hurts so badly, Daemon."

He pursed his lips and stroke her hair.

"Shhh babygirl… You can take it. I know you can."

She desperately shifted her hips and tried to close her legs around his hand. No, she couldn't. She couldn't take it, it was too much. Her body was on fire only that this time it was in a negative way. His fingers made her uncontrollably tremble and her core was so swollen and overstimulated that she already knew she wouldn't be able to walk after this. His thrusts were simply too forceful and rough.

"Stop, uncle. Please… It's too much, I can't…," she pleaded and Daemon bit her neck painfully before bringing his face to her level again and grabbing her chin.

"Shut your mouth. You will take it because I want you to. Here you were begging me to let you come the past 30 minutes and now I let you and you're still not satisfied. Don't give me those tears now. I won't stop until I'm content and I'm not sure how long that will be. And if you don't want to lose your voice you better shut your mouth and be glad that I haven't stuffed your dirty mouth with my cock."

~~~~~~~~~~

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