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i2sunric · 28 days ago

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𝗬𝗢𝗨’𝗥𝗘 𝗟𝗢𝗦𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗠𝗘 (s.jy)

unrequited love (but is it really?)

MASTERLIST

PAIRING: bestfriend!jake x reader (f)

SUMMARY: you’d loved him quietly for so long, it felt like a part of who you were. but love, when unspoken, had a way of festering. it filled the silences, lingered in the spaces between you, and left you questioning everything.

WARNINGS: heartbreak, too little communication (barely one at all), reader watches from afar, jake is kinda a f boy (but make it romantically, lol), if only they confessed they’d be happy, lmk if more. NOT PROOFREAD.

PUBLISHED: 1st December 2024

WC: 2k

TAGLIST: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @jwnghyuns @bangtancultsposts @shawnyle @jooniesbears-blog @skzenhalove @ro-diaries @onlyhyunjin @xcosmi @strawberrhypen @heeheeswifey @jakeflvrz @astratlantis @tunafishyfishylike @branchrkive @insommni4 @kirinaa08 @leiclerc @nxzz-skz @laurradoesloveu @beomluvrr @heeshlove @17ericas @riribelle @cloud-lyy (project) @whateverhoon @theothernads

NOW PLAYING: You’re losing me (From The Vault) by Taylor Swift

a/n: very low effort, i’m sorry

Middle school had been a maze of awkward hellos and the formation of friendships, but finding Jake had felt like finding your person.

He'd been the boy who shared his snacks with you when you forgot your lunch, sat beside you in class, whispering jokes that got you both in trouble, and the first person you called when something — anything — happened.

“You're stuck with me now," Jake had said that first day, his grin as bright as the summer sun.

His cheeks were round and he was wearing glasses while his brown hair fell onto his forehead, a beautiful mess.

"Lucky me," you teased, rolling your eyes. But deep inside, you had never felt luckier.

You weren't one to make friendships fast, all your attempts at small talks always ended up being awkward and uneasy, usually with you making a fool out of yourself.

You were glad Jake had been extroverted enough to adopt you.

You still remember the middle school science fair, which was supposed to be a showcase of brilliance and innovation—or so your teacher had declared with far too much enthusiasm. To you and Jake, it was more like a recipe for chaos.

The two of you had decided on making a volcano that would erupt using baking soda and vinegar. It seemed simple enough, but it was proving to be anything but.

"Alright, now we try," he gawked excitedly, holding high the plastic bottle that served for your volcano.

The construction-paper casing you had made in arts and crafts sat beside it, drying after unfortunate an incident involving too much paint.

"Wait," I said, looking at his hands where the measuring cup full was held. "How much vinegar did you put?"

"Uh…" He paused, looking suspiciously guilty. "I don't know. A lot?"

"Jake!" you groaned, trying not to laugh. "It's supposed to be precise! What if it explodes everywhere?"

"That's the point, isn't it?" he shot back, grinning mischievously.

You rolled your eyes but couldn't hide your smile as Jake dramatically tipped the baking soda into the bottle.

For a moment, nothing happened, and the two of you leaned in closer, peering into the bottle like a pair of amateur scientists.

Then it happened.

With a loud whoosh, the vinegar and baking soda reacted with more enthusiasm than either of you had anticipated. The foam burst out of the bottle, spilling onto the desk and splattering onto your hands and clothes.

"Jake!" you shrieked, jumping back as the foam continued to pour out, dripping onto the floor.

Jake was laughing so hard he could barely stand. "It works!" he managed to choke out gasps for air.

“You're impossible," you said, trying to sound annoyed but failing miserably as laughter bubbled out of you.

"Admit it," Jake said, wiping his hands on his already-ruined shirt. "This is way cooler than whatever the other kids are doing."

You shook your head, still smiling. "We're definitely getting detention for this."

"Totally worth it," he said, grinning at you.

Through the years, Jake had been your constant— your rock, your safe haven.

Along the way, your feelings changed. It wasn't his laugh that warmed your heart; it was how his hair fell in his eyes when he was focused on something, the way he would hold the door for you without a second thought, and the way he knew how you were feeling without your ever having to say anything.

But you kept those feelings locked away, terrified of what might happen if you said them out loud.

You thought that maybe, with all the high school matters and puberty hitting, Jake would grow distant from you.

You weren't as popular as him; you liked being on your own or with your small circle of friends, especially due to your awkward nature.

But, much to your surprise, your connection only got stronger.

The hallways were never empty, always alive with laughter, chatter, and the occasional sound of lockers slamming shut. You could usually maneuver them with ease, but today was different.

You could feel it— the weight of whispers, eyes darting toward you, and the kind of sharp-edged giggles that made your stomach churn.

You knew they were talking about you. They usually did.

“She's got Jake wrapped around her finger, and I saw her laughing and sweet talking to Sunghoon too. She wants everybody, uh?”

"I know, right? She's so clingy. It's so embarrassing."

The voices were muffled but not small enough, and their words pierced into you like small, jagged pebbles. You continued walking, trying to keep your head high, but it was hard to avoid the way their laughter trailed after you.

As you turned the corner, almost colliding with him, Jake leaned casually against your locker, waiting for you, just like he always did before class.

His smile vanished the instant he saw your face. "Hey," he said quietly, straightening up. "What's wrong?"

“Nothing," you mumbled, fumbling with your combination lock.

Jake's eyebrows furrowed, and he looked down the hall, where the girls were still whispering, their eyes darting between you and Jake. It didn't take him long to put the pieces together.

"Are they bothering you?" he asked, this time sharper.

"No," you said, lying, avoiding his eyes. "It's fine, let's just go to class.

Jake wasn't convinced. He stood there a moment, his jaw clenched, before turning on his heel and walking straight toward the group of girls.

"Jake!" you hissed, grabbing at his arm, but he was already out of reach.

"Hey," he said, his voice even but with a firmness to it as he came to a stop in front of them.

The girls froze; smug expressions faltered under his gaze. "Got something to say about my best friend?"

The hallway grew eerily quiet.

One of the girls, the ringleader of the group, stammered, "W-We weren't talking about her—"

"Right," Jake interrupted her, his tone heavy with sarcasm. "Because I definitely didn't just hear you." he sneered bitterly "Listen, if you've got a problem with her, you've got a problem with me. And trust me, you don't want that."

The girls looked at each other uneasily and then murmured something about needing to get to class, scurrying away.

Jake turned back to you, his expression softening when he saw the mix of embarrassment and gratitude on your face.

"You didn't have to do that," you said quietly as he walked back to you.

"Of course I did," he replied, slinging an arm over your shoulder as if to shield you from the rest of the world. "No one messes with you. Not on my watch."

It was the protectiveness in his voice that warmed your heart, and as the two of you walked to class together, you couldn't help but think that Jake had always been more than just your best friend— he was your safe place, your unwavering ally.

Starting university together had been exciting, a new beginning for the both of you.

New faces, new experiences, and yet the comfort of Jake remained the same. You still would study late into the night together, eat cheap takeout, and walk across campus under the streetlights.

Then Jake started dating.

It wasn't sudden. It began with a girl from his biology class, someone perky and charming.

Then there was a girl in his intramural soccer team, followed by a string of casual dates that never seemed to last long but still stung like tiny pinpricks against your heart.

You told yourself it was fine, that you had no right to feel this way. Jake was your best friend, and he was happy. That was what mattered.

But it's another thing watching him laugh with someone else, watching him give away the pieces of himself you selfishly wanted for yourself— it just hurt in a way no words could describe.

It's one Friday night; Jake convinces you to join him at a party. That wasn't your scene, really, but he had begged, promising it just would not be the same without you.

The music was loud, the laughter even louder, but none of it could drown out the sound of your own thoughts.

You stood by the corner of the room, nursing your drink and pretending not to notice the way Jake's smile lit up the space.

He was in his element: talking, laughing, charming people around him with ease. His dyed blond hair caught the light as he leaned in to hear someone over the noise. And though you tried not to stare, you couldn't help it. He had that effect on you; always had.

You’d loved him quietly for so long, it felt like a part of who you were. But love, when unspoken, had a way of festering.

It filled the silences, lingered in the spaces between you, and left you questioning everything.

“Hey,” Jake’s voice cut through your thoughts, startling you.

You looked up to find him standing in front of you, his signature grin in place. "You've been awfully quiet tonight," he said, tilting his head. "Everything okay?"

You forced a smile, hoping it was convincing. "Yeah, just tired."

Jake studied you for a moment, his gaze softening. "You sure? You've been kind of… distant lately.”

The concern in his voice made your chest tighten. He cared. Of course, he cared. But not in the way you wanted him to.

"I'm fine," you lied, taking a sip of your drink to avoid his piercing gaze.

Jake frowned slightly but didn't push. He never did. It was one of the things you loved about him, his ability to read the room, to know when to give you space.

“Well," he said finally, his voice lightening. "If you need anyone to talk to, you know where to find me."

You nodded, gave him a small smile. "Thanks, Jake."

Yet even as he walked away, your heart was aching, knowing that he'd be there for you but just never in the way you actually needed him to be.

Later that night, after most of the party had cleared out, you found yourself sitting on the back porch, staring up at the stars.

Almost everyone was gone, just a small afterparty happening inside, though you didn't want to be part of any. The chill in the air was a welcome distraction from the turmoil in your chest.

"You okay?" Jake's voice came again, softer this time.

You turned to find him standing in the doorway, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket.

He stepped outside and sat down beside you, the warmth of his presence seeping into your skin.

"Done cleaning?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He shook his head, leaning back against the railing. "I was worried about you," he admitted.

Your heart clenched. "I told you, I'm fine."

Jake let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. "You're an awful liar, you know that?" he eyed you up and down "Seriously, you're quiet. more than usual."

The corner of your mouth twitched, but the smile didn't quite reach your eyes. "Maybe I just don't have anything worth saying.

Jake turned to him, his face soft but serious. "You always have something worth saying," he said. "You just don't let people hear it."

It was a comment that hit closer to home than he probably realized, and for a moment, you considered telling him the truth-about how you felt, about how much it hurt to love him from a distance. But fear kept the words locked in your throat.

Instead, you laughed quietly, shaking your head. "You're too good at this, you know?"

"At what?"

"At making people feel seen," you said, glancing over at him. "It's kind of unfair."

Jake chuckled, his gaze softening. "I just care about the people I love," he said simply.

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, even though you knew they weren't meant the way you wanted them to be.

"Jake," you started, voice shaking very slightly. "What if—"

But before you could finish, the door behind you creaked open, and someone called his name.

One of his last situationships, asking for him to come inside. To join her.

"Hold that thought," he said, standing up.

You nodded and saw him disappear into the house; his figure grew tiny before tucking into it. It sounded in the air-the speech you wanted to say after he was already out the back door.

And with all that, beneath the vast expanse of star, something struck you - maybe love towards Jake would mostly be experienced in silence: the remembering of moments and convincing you enough even when those weren't.

Because you wanted him, his presence, half of his heart. You knew you would be content, even with a quarter of that.

But nothing would occur if one kept silent, afraid of spoiling all those years of friendship for some fleeting thing.

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kaciidubs · 9 months ago

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Pearl Necklace

❣ Summary: In which Chris gives you a personally made pearl necklace. ❣ ❣ Word Count: 1.2k ❣ Warnings: Smut, no plot, blowjob, cum play ❣ ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣ ❣ Additional Tags: Chan is referred to as Chris, Baby, Channie, Lover Boy, Reader is referred to as Baby, Pretty, Princess, unedited, ive been so busy with life and stuck in a writing rut so please take this as an unnecessary apology ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist

“Baby…”

Your dramatic drawl came with the equally dramatic act of draping yourself over Chris’s body, effectively gaining his attention from whatever video he was watching on his phone as he happily welcomed your weight sinking him further into the couch.

“Can I ask you something?”

He laughed, tilting his head, “I’d be surprised if you did all that with the intention of not trying to get my attention - what’s up, baby?”

“Can you give me a pearl necklace?”

The twinkle in your eyes did nothing to explain away your sudden request - you weren’t the type to usually wear accessories as it was already, so the desire for a pearl necklace out of any other form of jewelry had him raising an eyebrow.

“Pearls? Like, pearl beads? I mean…” Glancing at his phone, he swiped at the screen to pull up Google, “We can look up some places that sell them if you really want it, I think I can find a few stores that-”

Your hand swiftly slipped his phone from his hold before locking it and stashing it near the couch pillow underneath his head, dismissing his growing confusion with a charming smile.

“Actually, I was thinking that we could make it together.”

“Oh?”

Do-it-yourself, of course - he loved when you had little projects you wanted to include him in, even if the outcome sometimes didn’t go to plan, it was the quality time that mattered the most.

“Sure, I’m down for that,” he sat up while you rose to sit in his lap properly, his hands resting on your bare thighs, “did you buy the stuff already? Do we need to go shopping?”

You shook your head, pink tongue peeking out to wet your lips, “Nope, everything we’d need is right here.”

A devilish swivel of your hips, loose pajama shorts almost becoming an invisible barrier against his worn basketball shorts, and his confusion spiked up once again.

“Pretty, what- Wait a second-” Hands gripping the width of your hips, he tried to will away the near instant reaction his body always had when it came to you, “What’s going on? I thought you wanted to make a necklace-”

“I do.”

Normally, your nod of agreement would’ve been enough to clear the air, but when you pulled your oversized t-shirt up and off of your body, the layers only deepened.

“So why are you taking off your clothes? Not- Not that I’m complaining, I just…” His train of thought began to trail off with the drifting of his eyes down your neck, following the contours of your collarbones to the swells of your chest he’d been acquainted with time and time again. “Are we actually making a necklace here or…?”

“We are,” leaning forward, you placed a featherlight kiss to his pouty lips, “we just need to do a few extra steps first.”

Chris designed a few pieces of jewelry in his lifetime, and though he wouldn’t say he’s an expert when it came to the actual crafting of the pieces, he’d be inclined to assume that the process of making a necklace didn’t involve his girlfriend on her knees, giving him the best head of his life - granted, he always considered everything she did for him as the best in his life, but his point still stood.

“Fuck… Just like that, baby- Oh, god-” His head fell against the back of the couch, a shiver running down his spine when he felt the tip press against the back of your throat again. “‘S so good, baby - you’re so fucking good, pretty girl.”

You hummed around his length, hollowing your cheeks as you slowly pulled off of him with a wet pop - lips glistening in a mixture of saliva and precum that put any form of lipgloss to shame.

“Just ‘good’, Channie?” Voice laced with teasing allure, you held the base of his cock as you laved your tongue along one of his balls, sucking at the skin and smirking at the kick of his leg in response.

He choked on a moan, one hand gripping the edge of the couch cushion while the other ran through his hair “Baby, please - I can’t- fuck- can’t really think while you’re doing this!”

Giving his other ball the similar treatment, you littered open mouthed kisses along the underside of his cock, “Mm… Can you look at me then, lover boy?”

To be honest, he wasn’t even sure when he had closed his eyes to begin with, but lifting his head and directing his full attention to you made him realize why keeping them closed was working in his favor.

Hypnotizing sultry gaze behind lidded eyes, your lips resting perfectly against his shaft as your hand gripped the base of his dick with practiced perfection - if he even dared to look any further then he’d see the utterly filthy line of saliva coating your chin, or the way your free hand was making itself busy between your legs.

The twitch of his dick was all you needed to feel to know that you had him right where you wanted him, a satisfied smile curving the corners of your lips as you pumped your fist.

“Ready to make that necklace for me?”

His breath hitched, lips parting to let out a shivering moan as he frantically nodded, “Y-Yeah- Shit, yeah - gonna make you look so pretty, princess.”

Your eyes sparkled, a giddy expression almost overtaking the utter lust exuding from you as you doubled your efforts with your hand - the wet, slick sound floating through the air while you jerked him off.

Chris fought the roll of his eyes as he focused on your goal-driven face, bucking into the drag of your palm as if he were truly fucking you, until the pressure in his abdomen became too much to bear.

“I’m gonna come, baby- Oh, god, yes- Y-Yeah, yeah-” His hand flew from the couch and wrapped around your own, angling his dick toward your chest with panted breaths, “I-I’m coming - I’m coming, f-fuck-”

The first splatter of cum landed directly on your neck, dripping its way toward your clavicle and between your breasts. Tilting your head back just a bit, you felt the warmth of his cum land around the curve of your neck, painting a shaky line of white against your skin with each shivering pass of your combined hands.

He let out a strained grunt as the last few drops dotted your cleavage, using your hand to thoroughly milk himself of the final remains before effectively melting into the couch with a worn sigh.

“So…” Giggling, you dropped your chin to get a better look at your exhausted boyfriend, “How do I look?”

Looking down, he noted the way his release seemed to follow the downward curve before either spilling down your collarbones or further filling out the line down your clavicle, adding a sort of teardrop design to your necklace.

“Honestly?” A breathless giggle escaped him as he reached his non-soiled hand out toward his phone, “How about I take a picture to show you, then we can work on adding some accessories to go with it.”

Safe to say, this wouldn’t be the last pearl necklace you’d receive from him.

✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @nightimescapes, @caitlyn98s, @ch4nn13luv, @ihrtlix, @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997, @maximumkillshot, @y-ur--i, @acker-night, @dreamescapeswriting, @specialstay, @s00buwu, @tinyelfperson, @jj-stay, @katsukis1wife, @inlovewithmusician, @keen-li, @armystay89, @main-character0, @vampcharxter, @ddyskz, @prettymiye0n, @bbgnyx, @ivyisnotokay, @bahng-chrizz, @milknhoneyracha, @hann1bee, @palindrome969, @newhope8, @softkissfelix, @luvyev, @luminouskalopsia, @kpopsstuffs, @starquokka, @wolfs-howling, @laylasbunbunny, @zaethefangirl, @chxnb97, @4-chan-inpadella

✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!

#skz smut #stray kids smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan smut #bangchan x reader #bangchan smut

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blackenedsnow · 3 months ago

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I have never requested before I hope I'm doing this right. You can feel free to ignore this.

But can I have Billy and stu (separate or together is your choice), Bubba Sawyer, Thomas Hewitt, Micheal Myers (original or Rz are your choice), Jason Voorhees, Norman Bates, and Billy Lenz. You don't have to do all. I don't really care who or how much you do. But them with a reader who takes care of their younger sibling. Kinds like the oldest sibling being a parent of their younger sibling

You can choose the age and gender but I would prefer a male and 4 year old kid but it doesn't matter. I just haven't really seen much of this and would really like more. I love your writing btw. Again you don't really have to do this and I feel like this request is long but just wanted to write it

slashers with a reader who takes care of their younger sibling ; headcanons

WARNING: None

PAIRING: Billy Loomis x Reader, Stu Macher x Reader, Bubba Sawyer x Reader, Thomas Hewitt x Reader, Michael Myers x Reader, Jason Voorhees x Reader, Norman Bates x Reader, Billy Lenz x Reader

NOTE: I’m so glad you love my writing! Your request is perfect, and I really enjoyed putting this together for you. Hope you enjoy!

BILLY LOOMIS

At first, Billy's not sure what to think.

Kids are loud and messy, not really his thing, but he’s intrigued by how seriously you take your role as a caretaker.

He gets protective over both you and your little sibling in his own way.

He doesn’t interact with the child much but will keep an eye on them, especially if things seem off.

Billy admires your strength and responsibility

He didn’t grow up in the best family environment, so seeing you take on that parental role makes him respect you even more.

If you ever need help with your sibling, he’s reluctant but won’t say no.

He’ll watch over your little sibling in his way—just don’t expect him to read bedtime stories.

STU MACHER

Stu doesn't really care for kids, but your little sibling is an exception.

He’s the chaotic big brother type, always joking around, making silly faces, and playing rough

...in a way your sibling enjoys.

He’s surprisingly great at distracting your sibling when you need a break, even if it involves a bit too much sugar or wild games.

Stu admires how you handle your responsibilities, but he’s also the type to encourage you to let loose and have fun with your little sibling.

He'll say something like

"Being a big sibling can be fun too, y'know!"

Sometimes, he’ll get your sibling involved in harmless pranks—nothing too serious, just enough to make you roll your eyes at the bullshit.

BUBBA SAWYER

Bubba has a natural, gentle side that shows around your little sibling.

He’s great with kids because of his own childlike nature and will immediately want to help you out with your sibling.

He’s protective but in a soft, nurturing way.

He’ll help with basic care—making sure your sibling eats, plays safely, and feels comfortable.

Watching you care for your sibling touches something deep in Bubba.

Family is everything to him, and seeing you take on that role makes him feel connected to you on a more emotional level.

Your little sibling will probably love Bubba’s playful, kind-hearted nature, and they’d get along well

Almost like having a second big sibling!

THOMAS HEWITT

Thomas is awkward around your little sibling at first.

He’s not used to kids, and his intimidating presence might scare the child a bit.

Once you show him how to be gentle, though, Thomas is (not surprisingly) good at it.

He’s careful and protective, and though he’s not talkative, his actions speak volumes.

He respects your role as the older sibling and quietly supports you in whatever way he can.

He’ll help carry your sibling, fix things for them, and even craft toys if necessary.

Thomas feels a sense of admiration for how you juggle being a caregiver.

It reminds him of the family dynamic he grew up in, where responsibility was a big part of survival.

MICHAEL MYERS

Michael is eerily silent around your little sibling, but he watches the way you care for them with curiosity.

He doesn’t fully understand the concept of caring for someone, but he’s fascinated by your commitment.

He won’t actively interact with your sibling, and in some strange way, he becomes protective of both you and the child

Like he’s observing a small piece of humanity that he’s long forgotten.

Michael doesn’t interact much with your sibling, but if anyone or anything threatens them, Michael steps in without hesitation.

He’s drawn to your strength as an older sibling.

It doesn’t make him soft, but it earns you a twisted sense of respect in his mind.

JASON VOORHEES

Jason has a soft spot for children due to his own troubled childhood.

When he sees how much you care for your little sibling, it stirs something in him.

He’s fiercely protective, acting as a silent guardian over both you and your sibling.

He doesn’t speak, but his presence is always there, watching to make sure nothing bad happens.

Your little sibling isn’t scared of Jason for long.

Once they see how Jason watches over you, they warm up to him.

Jason might even offer small gestures of kindness, like finding things in the woods for your sibling to play with.

Jason admires your strength and responsibility, seeing you as a protector like himself.

It forms a quiet bond between the three of you.

NORMAN BATES

Norman is gentle and polite around your little sibling, offering to help with anything that might make things easier for you.

He’s fascinated by the idea of family dynamics and your role as both sibling and parental figure.

It reminds him of his relationship with his own mother, in a twisted way.

Norman tries to make things comfortable for your sibling, offering snacks or games to keep them occupied.

He’s surprisingly good at calming your sibling down during tantrums.

However, there’s always a sense of unease around Norman.

His overprotectiveness can feel stifling at times, especially when he becomes too involved in your sibling’s care, as though he sees you as part of his own family.

BILLY LENZ

Billy is unpredictable, and your little sibling might be a bit nervous around him at first.

Billy has strange behavior, but he never intentionally tries to scare your sibling.

He doesn’t understand kids well, but once he realizes how important your sibling is to you, Billy makes an effort to be less creepy around then.

There’s a strange protectiveness that comes over Billy when he sees you caring for your sibling.

It’s almost like he’s trying to impress you by not being chaotic around the child.

He’ll watch your little sibling from a distance, occasionally making weird, quiet noises, but he’ll stay back unless you need help.

If anyone threatens you or your sibling, though, Billy’s unpredictable nature can quickly become dangerous.

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endlessdreamworld · 1 month ago

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Under the Veil

An 18+ fic starring Aventurine X Fem!Reader as husband and wife. Minors DNI, sort of a continuation of the general headcanons post I wrote CW: infertility, A pretty harrowing dead dove do no eat flashback involving graphic depictions of sex trafficking, non con and SA for past Aventurine, as well as a brief mention of drugs. Wordcount: 4.5k

You felt grateful for your husband’s embrace now more than ever. It was warmth you desperately needed. It was security you didn’t deserve, not when you feel like you’ve robbed him of something he deserved more than anyone else in the world. Last but not least, it muffled your quiet sobs as you processed the reality you should have been expecting all along. After all, you and Aventurine have been actively trying for kids since the day you got married over three years ago. Something was critically wrong, but you both believed that this was something money could fix. You had already spent so much money crafting the perfect nest for all of the little ones you promised to bring into the world together. You promised him no less than half a dozen kids with eyes as bright and vivid as his and no one else’s. You weren’t one to ever break your promises, not until today.

A fresh wave of tears spilled out of the corners of your eyes and into your husband’s shoulder. You didn’t deserve to be comforted like this – not when you failed him so terribly, but you knew if you tried to pull away he wouldn’t have it. So instead you inhaled deeply, taking in his scent of today’s chosen cologne. You shuddered when you quickly recognized the smell of lavender. If anyone knew the first thing about scented oils it was the calming and anxiety relieving factors of lavender. Between the pacifying fragrance and the feeling of his sweater made from the cashmere of some rare creature, it was a matter of time before the tears finally stopped.

It was unlike Aventurine to wear a simple sweater as part of the ensemble of his outfit of the day given just how much fun he has peacocking around, but between the softness of the cashmere and the session of aromatherapy, his feelings on the matter of your infertility were obvious. He was fully prepared for this outcome and came deliberately equipped to ease you through the heartbreak. Your husband kissed the crown of your head and stroked your back until you found yourself kissing him back on the shoulder and the inside of his neck. After a few more deep breaths, you worked up the nerve to look him in his eyes. It was a relief to see them narrowed softly, exuding as much warmth as the day you both took your wedding vows. You felt lighter to see he loved you as much as ever. “I’m sorry honey,” you whispered into his neck. He gave you a squeeze, and laughed quietly. The soft melodic lilt tickled the tip of your ear.

You weren’t the same after receiving the news of your utterly barren womb. Your smile didn’t reach your eyes and you stayed in bed more and more. Aventurine was dying on the inside seeing you struggle like this, feeling entirely responsible for it. He’s always wanted to be a father, that much was apparent. He made it known countless times well before the talks of marriage. The Sigonian was quite good at dealing with the cards he was given both literal and metaphorical. It’s rare that he misplays so catastrophically.

Aventurine knew it would be no easy task to convince you how little this mattered to him in the bigger scheme of things, how it was you who was his everything. You saw through it all, the bravado, the bluffing, the bullshit. You barely had to try and you found the pathetic shell of a man beneath the fineries and you chose to dive in head first. It was a long and miserable road to get to a point where you were both happy. The fact that you were even engaging in regular intimacy after everything he’s been through is nothing short of a miracle.

Sex trafficking and slavery go hand in hand, and the life of a ‘pretty slave’ in the hands of society’s upper crust was one of unparalleled shame. He, of course, was mostly transparent about how… well used he was. Your husband never gave you the full details of what happened, favoring to spin the lie of how ‘he forgot’ which he hoped would become the truth like the other half dozen lies he continuously spun.

He wanted to forget his first time, auctioned off to a man who was no less than thrice as old as he was, lusting over someone who was still more boy than man. He wanted to forget how that predator’s chest hair felt against his back, how the sweat slickened curls made him squirm while they left their slimy trails along his flesh. Aventurine wanted to forget the feeling of the man’s palm on his cheek as he forced the Sigonian’s face into the pillows and lined up their hips. He wanted to forget the pain of the violation. Most of all, he wanted to forget the humiliation of his body’s own betrayal as the high roller stroked him off, the little mewls and groans that slipped through his traitorous lie spinning lips before he made a mess on the bed. He wanted to forget the feeling of blood laced spunk dripping down his thigh that night. It was no small consolation that he at least had long forgotten that face.

He wanted to forget the taste of sweat and salt leaking from every cock he had to suck. He wanted to forget the shapes of them, the smell of them, the leers, the smacks, the feeling of strangers tugging on his hair. He wanted to forget the ‘parties’ his master rented him out to. He wanted to forget about the streaks of jizz on his lower back, how they wiped themselves off on him leaving hedonistic tallies keeping score of some sick game they played amongst themselves. He wanted to forget the drugs needed to perform when his body would no longer cooperate. He – “Honey, are you okay?” You asked him. He had been staring off into space for a while. Whenever he gets like this, it’s pretty obvious he’s stuck somewhere inside of memories he didn’t want to be shackled to.

Ah, even now you’re worrying about me? He thought, and tilted your chin up to give you a kiss on your cheek right below your eye. “Me? I’m fine of course but what about you?” He cupped your face. “You’ve been out of it for the past week. I’ve been worried sick you know?” Truth be told, he was giving you some space but he was always ready to come running when you were finally ready to share some of the pain you’ve been carrying lately with him.

“I’ve been doing some thinking, and I think we should talk.” Oh those dreaded words he always hated hearing. You’ve almost never said them, only when your relationship was in dire straits and you needed something from him in specific. It’s been ages since he heard them.

“Right, I’m sure we do,” he said and sat down next to you on the couch. He faced towards you and rested his arm along the top of the couch. You reached into your bag and pulled out a few resources, but it’s hard for him to pay attention to what’s in your hands when all he can see are the bags under your eyes.

“I’ve been looking into some options for us,” you presented him with some printed documents regarding surrogacy services. “So you can still be a father and pass on the bloodline.” He grew utterly quiet, but you’re undeterred, “Or maybe you could sign up at a fertility clinic and see if you can be registered as a sperm donor. I know Sigonians aren’t exac-”

“Stop,” he cut you off. Your hands froze and clutched onto your well intentioned but foolish research. His fingers rubbed against the backs of yours, coaxing you into giving up those unnecessary papers. You acquiesced and let him shuffle them back onto the table. “We can go to other doctors, get a second or third opinion or whatever.”

It hurt to hear him hold onto hope like this because the chance of having your own children was slim to none. “But what if it just can’t happen?”

“Then it just won’t happen,” he smiled but you could see the pain in his eyes.

“I don’t want you to give this up, Kakavasha. I know how much your Avgin heritage means to you. I–” tears threatened the edge of your vision, and your husband shushed you. “I promised you I’d –” he put his index and middle finger against your lips, sealing them in a gentle hold.

“Ishla rhim,” he addressed you with the Avgin term of endearment meant only for the most intimate of moments. One would be lucky to hear it more than a couple of times in their life. “Let’s pray together, do you remember how? Or do you need a little reminder?” His voice is as warm and sweet as his namesake.

“I remember,” you told him while lifting up the wrong hand.

He clicked his tongue playfully and retrieved the correct hand while kissing the other. “It’s our left ones. You’ll always see our commitment to each other when we pray,” he rubbed the pad of his finger along the skin of your wedding band seared into your flesh with the same ink that was used for his commodity.

“Right,” you nod and he kissed your forehead. You began to recite the prayer cautiously, “May the Mother Goddess thrice close her eyes for you…?”

He nodded, “That’s right. Don’t forget the part about keeping your blood eternally pulsing.”

You groaned, “You’d think I’d know the prayer by heart after all this time.”

He laced his fingers with yours pressing your palms flat together. “You do know it, but you’re feeling a bit nervous is all.” He squeezed your fingers together and peppered the backs of your fingers with kisses, one for each knuckle. “Your fingers are shaking. Let me take over.” He recited the prayer line by line, with you following along. Yet still, you didn’t seem to feel better and he could tell.

The air grew heavier between the two of you, and you finally broke the suffocating silence. “I think we should look into alternatives just in case…” “I’m not interested,” he said, leaving no further room for discussion. “It was only ever going to be you and I.” It was unlike you to be so pushy. You were always so mindful of his needs and careful with his boundaries.

Just as you were about to try to find another angle, he leaned over you, effectively caging you against the back of the couch. “Wife,” he begins, his eyes were colder than you’d seen them before and there was a hint of desperation in the calm black depths of his pupils that made the vivid brights of his iris seem to glow. “I think you’d benefit greatly from being reminded of our wedding vows.” His eyes roamed from your eyes to your lower lip. He grabbed your chin and tilted your face at such an angle where he commanded every last scrap of your attention. “Because you seem to be forgetting the part about ‘in sickness and in health’ and that simply won’t do. How about we renew our vows, right here, right now, hmm?” Aventurine brushed his lips against the corner of your mouth. He nuzzled his face against yours, the caress of his long and full eyelashes finally pulled you from this pit you threw yourself into. You took a better look at him and saw that look again, that one a pet would give you before you closed the door on them before leaving for one task or another. It was that look that screamed ‘please don’t throw me away’ at the top of its lungs.

How very thoughtless of you, ignoring what was right before your very eyes. You cupped Aventurine’s face with both of your hands and his eyes fluttered shut. Guilt twisted inside of your guts, knotting you in a way that made your stomach flip. It finally dawned on you just how bad of a spot you put his already tortured soul into. “I think I may need a reminder, but not here,” you patted the couch. “There’s not enough pillows.”

“Right,” he sighed in mock defeat, “What was I thinking?” Aventurine scooped you up as he rose to his feet. “Silly me.” Countless times you were the source of his comfort, his little slice of heaven molded into flesh and shaped into his home. Now here you are, in desperate need of comfort and it’s his turn to perform. The stakes have never been higher. He knew if he failed to relieve you of that all-devouring guilt of yours, then a part of you would never be the same and he was having none of it. Aventurine set you down in the middle of your marital bed and you started making quick work of your buttons. “Hey!” he called out to you in a pout, making you freeze. “Hi?” your fingers sheepishly fidgeted with the last remaining button that kept your clothes together.

Your husband approached the edge of the bed and sat down beside you. “That’s not how our wedding night went. This,” his fingers brushed aside your own as he ran the tip of his finger along the flat surface, “was my job. And you stole it from me. Guess we gotta change things up this time.”

Aventurine put his hand on your cheek and you took the opportunity to steal a little more from him. You pawed at his clothes before he had the opportunity to disrobe himself. He hummed in amusement, “Someone is very eager,” he mused, the corners of his lips curled up into that smirk of his that never failed to make you feel like a total mess. It did him well to see you perking up a bit. He playfully pushed you down onto the bed, “Roll over for me. I want to see you on your hands and knees tonight.”

He didn’t have to tell you twice. You rolled over onto your stomach, just in time to see Aventurine finish undressing. He threw himself onto the bed next to you and brushed your hair back, taking a moment to just… soak in the sight of you. Ages ago he’d lay down next to you, too scared to touch you, scared to make you dirty. You always took things slow, always left the floor open for every no he was brave enough to say. That’s why the talk of all of these ‘options’ felt so unnecessary.

“What are you thinking about?”

“You,” he quipped smoothly. It was clear his mind was elsewhere, but he seemed content enough so there was no need to press him on it. He weaved his fingers underneath the hem of your shirt before sliding his hand up the skin on your back. With his free hand, he popped open that last button you so graciously saved for him. Aventurine made quick work of the rest of your clothing and basked in the familiar sight of you. It would always only be you. He trailed his fingers down your back, leaving little paths of gooseflesh in their wake.

“That tickles,” you laughed quietly and rubbed your back against his exploring hand. As you went to roll over and swat his hand away, he held onto your wrist and kept you on your stomach.

“On your knees for me. Please?” He nuzzled the side of your cheek. This isn’t a position you took often, so it was tremendously exciting. You felt invigorated by the simple gesture of getting on all fours. Your husband placed a hand on your hip to savor the feeling of your skin and quickly clicked his tongue in disapproval. “Too cold.” He stepped away. You turned your head to see him fidgeting with the thermostat.

“It’s not that serious. I’m not cold, I’m lonely,” you whined from on the bed. He always doted on you so much, too much even – especially during intimacy. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t understand it. His words from the day you finally bridged that threshold play inside of your mind on loop during times like these. “I’ve been embraced so many times before, but this is the first time I’ve been held.”

He laughed at how petulant you’re being, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t find it heartwarming. Aventurine returned to your side and placed his hand on your back once more. He slid the tips of his fingers past your hips, past your ass, until they settled around your already damp lips. He traced his fingers along your slit and felt your slick stick to his dexterous digits. Your husband knew your body well and didn’t even need to slip a finger in to know how easily you’d take two more. “Yes, you certainly feel very lonely.” The way he said it made you want to protest his teasing, but honestly? He didn’t want to leave you unsatisfied for any longer.

The bed shifted under his weight as he joined you. You bent your arms, your front half dipping low enough so you could feel your chest settle on those oh so familiar soft silk sheets. Your husband sighed in satisfaction as he settled his hand on your shoulder. The warmth of his hands radiated through the relaxed muscles of your back. Strands of his soft blonde hair tickled the side of your face before you felt his nose rub against the left side of your neck. He placed a tender kiss right on the same spot his commodity tattoo would be and you purred in turn, your hands already clutching at the sheets as you salivated in anticipation. Aventurine gave himself a couple of strokes before he nestled the head of his cock at the entrance of your snatch, the lips swollen and puffy from arousal. He smirked into the skin of your neck.

“Wow, I don’t even have to touch you anymore to turn your guts into tangled ribbons,” he whispered in such a sultry tone before running his tongue along the artery in your neck. Your pulse raced wildly against the damp muscle oh so deliciously. He loved driving you crazy like this, loved the way he could move your heart, loved the noises he was going to pry out of your sweet lips.

He was met with no resistance as he bore his weight down on you. The head of his cock breached your entrance before he carefully sheathed himself into you. A little sigh of delight huffed out of your partially parted mouth. You gave a light wave with your fingers as an invitation. Aventurine placed the palm of his hand over the back of yours, lacing your hands together. He gave you a light squeeze and finished bottoming out before kissing the side of your neck.

It was a bit surprising feeling him stop there, and you thought that maybe he changed his mind. Before you had time to overthink it, he murmured into your ear as a reminder, “We’re supposed to be renewing our vows, love.”

Oh yes, that’s right, you were already so cock drunk that you forgot that part. “Right, it was just the –” you felt the tip of the fingers of his free hand trail land on your sternum. They felt cold against your burning skin.

“Yes?”

“The standard ones, something classic.” It was so unbelievably hard to keep your head in the corporeal realm when Aventurine’s touch was propelling you to heaven.

“Right, I’m listening. I want to hear you recite them because I think you might have forgotten.”

“For bett-” he started to drag his fingers from your sternum to your navel, leaving a pit in your stomach. He felt your weeping cunt seize his shaft in a chokehold. Your voice pitched high, “better andpoorer.”

“For better and for worse,” he nipped your ear and trailed his fingers back up the center of your torso before they settled back between your breasts. You clamped down firmly on his hand in your own, an attempt at avenging your broken focus. “Come on, what was next?”

“For richer, an-” he dragged his fingers from above to further below this time, settling just over your womb. “Richer and for poorer.”

He placed a warm kiss on your temple. “Good girl,” he cooed, tickling your hair. “Next?”

Your tongue swiped at your lower lip and then spit out the next bit as fast as you possibly could before he had the opportunity to scramble your brains anymore than he already had. “Insicknessan-” You should have known better than to try something like this. The moment you committed to spitting out your wedding vows, Aventurine had already taken hold of your swollen clit in between his fingers. You stumbled, unable to hold your hips up for a brief moment. Not that it had any affect on your position with the way he was holding onto you.

“In sickness and in health, and don’t you dare ever forget it,” he threatened.

You shook your head and then laid it out one last time, “But what if this is it? What if we can’t have kids of our own.”

Your husband grew silent, and you’re afraid you broke the moment when all you wanted was to be considerate of what he was sentencing himself to.

“Then it’s very simple, isn’t it?” His thighs rubbed against yours as he rolled his hips. The way his cock grinds against your core makes your eyes roll back into your head. “I’ll be the last Avgin. The bloodline dies with me. I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Aventurine holds you still as he rocks back and forth in a steady motion. He sounded so happy as he said it, and the last of this festering worry was stolen away from you.

Fuck, he knew just the right thing to say didn’t he? It wasn’t fair. If only you could be half as good as he was but right now, all you could do was confess a sloppy “I love you,” into the mattress accompanied by a thin stream of drool.

He huffed a breathy laugh against your back, “Oh I know you do.” Cocky and self-assured, just the way you like him. Aventurine inhaled and lightly rolled his fingers, swirling your bead in pace with the soft rock of his body against yours. You sighed, you squealed, you sang – just for him. Oh how he loved to hear you, see you, smell you. He focused on those sensations as he tried to believe the lie he just told you. Was it a lie though, if it was one of omission? It’s not like he was lying to you outright. While yes, it was that simple, that this was what he wanted, he’d be lying if he didn’t say how painful the solitude would be.

But none of that was important, not when the scent of your shampoo tickled his senses, nor when he watched the wet spot near your face slowly grow from the steady stream of drool. It was some delightful proof of just how much you were enjoying yourself. He had you right where he wanted you, and although it was out of character for him to leave you hanging on the edge, there was something he needed to do for himself or rather for both of your sakes.

“I’m going to grab something to make things a bit more exciting,” he kissed your forehead before carefully disentangling himself from you. Aventurine had enough kink for a lifetime after all of the subjugation he went through so he didn’t own what he was looking for. A substitute would do. After all, this wouldn’t be the first time nor the last time that he would hide behind his wealth as a shield. He retrieved his favorite necktie, and swirled it proactively. It was some unintentional good planning on his part that he’s spent countless hours on sleight of hand tricks. He needed the practice now more than ever. If anyone would be able to spot his facade slipping, his fingers shaking and unsure, it would be you – his chosen life partner. “Here, let me put this on,” he said as he wrapped the makeshift blindfold around your eyes. A tool, a misdirection, a temporary respite.

Aventurine rolled you onto your back and you were none the wiser to the forlorn and broken expression on his face. He needed to cry, to mourn the family you were supposed to have. The nursery he’d disassemble by himself for your sake. He couldn’t worry you, not when you needed the comfort more, when he knew what it was like to feel small and helpless as your body betrayed what you wanted. It wouldn’t be difficult to pass his tears off as sweat, his shaking voice as swells of his own pleasure. Of course he felt good too. Everyone is more comfortable at home. He saw your fingers twitching in his peripherals, a tell that was far more consistent and obvious than the frenzied fluttering of your insides. Yes, now would be a good time.

Your husband crashed his lips against yours, a calculated act of theft as he stole your cries of ecstasy right out of your throat. Some might call it slimy, some might call it cunning, he called it commitment as he used the tortured screams of your climax to mask his own erratic breathing and whimpers of heartbreak. You fell still beneath him and hummed in satisfaction. Your fingers peeled off the blindfold, and you could finally get a good look of his smiling face. He thanked Gaiathra Triclops for giving him the strength to pull himself together so he could face you with a proper smile instead of that hollow one you’d see right through in a heartbeat. “I didn’t know renewing our vows could be so fun,” you beamed up at him, a smile as calming as the moon. He found himself nuzzling into your hand. “Romantic right?”

You laughed and nodded enthusiastically beneath him. “Wanna get cleaned up?” You gave his cheek a squish.

“Now that sounds like a great idea.” Your life together carried on. This was just another point in time, one he wouldn’t deem as suffering no matter how painful. As a gambler he weighed the risks and rewards of every encounter, every interaction. Every move was calculated, every word was said with purpose. Who knows? Maybe Mama Fenge would bless him with a miracle. After all, as the fortunate boy born on the day of Kakava he was blessed from the moment he was born. All in, he didn’t even need to remind himself as he helped you wash your hair, relishing in the smile on your face, one you gifted him with today and tomorrow and every day to come.

#aventurine x reader #yandere aventurine x reader #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere x female reader #yandere hsr #yancore #yandere imagines

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class1akids · 22 days ago

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"I like food"

I saw many posts people saying how random Shouto's line is about praying at Touya's altar and realizing that he likes food - and I wanted to point to how it helps wrapping up his arc.

Shouto is saying: "When I was praying at Touya's butsudan (Buddhist altar), I suddenly realized something, I liked eating food. I realized there's more to me than just the person I want to become."

Food was a "negative space in the Todoroki family, so liking food was not evident to Shoto growing up.

In Shouto's flashbacks with his family, we never see him eat food. His only memory tied to the kitchen is the kettle incident. We know from Natsuo that Shouto ate alone, a diet prescribed by Endeavor, no doubt all geared towards maximum performance, rather than enjoyment. Not even knowing your siblings favorite food is the ultimate symbol of how dysfunctional the household was.

2. Food was a positive space in Class A - tied to comfort, bonding, friendship

In class A, Shouto starts eating with Iida and Midoriya after the Stain incident. Food becomes comfort, connection, sharing, caring, teamwork, etc. He experiences things like using his fire to prepare food together, eating together, cleaning up.

Many memorable Shouto-scenes are tied to Class A eating together (e.g. heroes cry too) and he connects to Inasa over a discussion about favorite foods (udon vs soba) which is a theme that carries over to his endgame with Touya

3. As the Todoroki family tries to reconnect, food plays a central role

As the family changes, they attempt to reconnect around the family dinner table (the famous sluuurp scenes). But Todoroki dinners end in a disaster - still they are useful bringing to the surface important conflicts and trying to communicate about them (another important theme discussed in Shoto Rising).

There is more in the light novels: Shoto's and Rei's decade late reconnection as Rei offers him a little kid strawberry milk that she remembers he liked when he was 5, and their attempt to connect with Natsuo ending up in a mush of ruined soba - it's all out of sync.

4. Food as a symbol of lost time and broken futures

Food is also very central for the hopes of a happier future: Enji's dream of his family at the dinner table, Natsuo's regret about years of missed meals, Shoto wanting to share noodles with Toya, all culminating in the heartbreaking realization that they have the same favorite food they'll never get to share.

5. Food as a symbol of processing grief and healing

Praying at the butsudan (the Buddhist altar at home set up for a deceased loved one) involves the preparation of offerings of food and drinks, which then the family eats afterwards. We see this practice referenced in Ch 249 when Enji prays at Toya's altar.

So Shouto making a reference to it is a shorthand for telling us that Touya died at some point, Shouto is still grieving him and just like Deku and Ochako, he's trying to make sense for himself out of their short encounter. So wanting to learn how to make chopsticks and bowls (a traditional Japanese craft of woodwork and applying lacquer, often involving intricate patterns) implies that he wants to bring Touya the perfect offering, but also that he's finally stepping outside fully of the framework Endeavor created for the family, where children are cast into roles of heroes, villains and by-standers, masterpieces and failures but never human beings. He's thinking about what connects him and Touya together and who they would have been in a different story.

6. Shouto's personal arc

Shouto's character was always about balance. Balance between past and future, ice and fire, duty and family, etc. So crafting chopsticks and bowls to elevate good food connects the grief and survival guilt with healing and growth. It is both a tribute to Touya's memory and a new possible hobby to express still undiscovered sides of himself.

It fits the theme of the chapter "More" - as it focuses on what lies beyond being a hero, reaching a goal, working hard and how Izuku, Ochako and Shouto have been transformed by their experiences of trying to save their villains.

But it also fits Shouto's personal arc that was about discovering who Shouto really is. Earlier in the chapter, Shouto refers to being constrained into the framework of a bigger story, where his choices are bound to happen. As a hero of the sidestory of that manga, Shouto has no choice but decide what kind of a hero he wants to be (not-Endeavor, like All Might, reassuring, family hero). Encounters with his family helped crystallized this image of himself.

But now that he's being released from this story, he can look outside of the framework of a hero manga and discover those "more sides than just a hero". And Touya was the last encounter - the last piece of that puzzle. I think there is a parallel in how Tomura destroyed much of hero society - Touya also destroyed the foundations of the Todoroki family, so something different can maybe built.

Without Touya, I think the family would have kept at trying to piece themselves together in a tense, fake kind of peace to keep up appearances. If nothing else, Touya's actions tore through that need of saving face - leaving them all exposed and grappling with the harsh realities of their actions. But I think it also allowed the younger siblings to step outside the cage their parents created for them and build things better from scratch. It allows them to find more sides to themselves outside of the logic of the Todoroki household.

#bnha meta #bnha 431 #todoroki shouto #todoroki touya #dabi #class a #todoroki family #food as a symbol #food as a love language

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enchantedbarnes · 6 months ago

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Uncle Buck • Part 7

Goodnightmorning

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Single Aunt!Reader

Word Count: 9.3k

A/N: Surprise! I hope you enjoy 🤗 I love hearing from all of you, so don't be shy - please spam me with your thoughts. I love gifs and seeing your reactions. 🥰 If you have any ideas for future parts let me know! xo

"I GOT IT!" You call out while rushing downstairs to answer the door, grabbing your wallet from your purse by the door for the pizza delivery.

Opening the door while still fiddling with getting the money from your wallet, you look up and freeze.

"Fuuucking hell," you clutch your wallet at your chest.

"Heyyy, Aunt Y/n," Sam greets while leaning against the doorway holding a stack of pizzas.

"Cute outfit," Bucky smirks while looking you over. He has two pillows tucked under his arm and a backpack hanging from one shoulder.

It's movie night and you're currently wearing a fluffy hooded cookie monster robe (when you pull the hood up it has his goofy looking googly eyes on top), a blue ribbed tank top, black and blue plaid flannel pajama bottoms, fuzzy slipper socks, and your hair tossed up in two messy buns on top of your head.

"Did you guys decide to get a pizza delivery side hustle going?"

"Walked up at the same time as the delivery kid," Sam answers, nodding his head behind them.

"And what exactly are you doing here, besides stealing our pizzas?" You tilt your head to the side, a questioning glare looking over the both of them.

Bucky holds up a greeting card in his right hand. More specifically Benji's Christmas card. He flips the card open and holds it up to you. You reach out and take the card from him looking it over.

The front of the card says "MERRY CHRISTMAS YA FILTHY ANIMALS" with an edited Home Alone poster showing Benji in the middle with Bucky and Sam in the background. This you already knew, but what you didn't realize was the little shit apparently customized the inside of their cards without you knowing.

The inside of the card reads:

AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR!

You've been cordially invited to:

New Year's Eve Movie Marathon Night

📍 Location: Attic movie space

⏱️ Time: 3pm set up, 4pm movie selection process

Comfy Attire / Pajamas

Bring your own: overnight essentials - pillows and blankets encouraged but probably not necessary

Snacks and Pizza will be provided

[*Mom knows of this, Aunt Y/n does not...please direct any further inquiries to Mom 718-555-0110*]

"I saw you yesterday, you didn't want to bring this up to me??" You glare over at Bucky, holding the card up.

"Oh you did, did you?" Sam looks back and forth between the two of you.

"Must have slipped my mind," Bucky shrugs.

"I'm sure you were both very busy at this mystery meetup," Sam smirks.

"Yes, it was very eventful," you keep a straight face, "My legs are still sore."

"Oh??" His eyebrow raises as his head whips over to you.

"Mmhm, and there was also a lot more oils involved than I expected."

"Go on..."

"Lots of flowers. Candles. Honey. Fruits... Anything I'm missing?" You look over at Bucky.

"The leather. Can't forget that."

"Of course, how could I forget that. Very sturdy leather, indeed."

"Wow, I just knew you two were a couple of freaks." You can see the wheels turning in Sam's head as he processes this information and tries to decide which question to go with next.

"And then there was that sweet old lady that joined us," you're starting to struggle to keep a straight face, but manage to keep it together.

"Mildred was very energetic for 86 years old," Bucky nods. You finally break and start laughing.

"She probably could have gone another 3 or 4 rounds."

"Whoa whoa whoa whoa," Sam interrupts, holding his hands up in an X motion. "You lost me. Explain yourselves," he looks back and forth between you, an eyebrow raised.

"We went to the farmer's and craft market, obviously. What were you thinking we were talking about?" You sass.

"Yeah, Samuel. What were you thinking of?" Bucky asks, a smirk appearing on his face now.

Sam scoffs. Nora makes her way downstairs and spots their new guests still standing in the doorway.

"Hey, guys! Welcome! Why are you still in the doorway? Come on in," Nora waves them inside. She greets Sam with a squeeze on his arm as she walks by, "Thanks for grabbing the pizzas! Bring 'em on up with you. Everyone's in the attic - you're just in time. Hey, Bucky!" She grins while greeting him with a quick wave.

Nora quickly disappears into the kitchen. Sam sets the pizza boxes down on the entry table temporarily and wraps you in a bear hug, giving you a lift before he sets you back down to snag the pizzas again while making his way upstairs.

Bucky steps inside and hesitates as he closes the door behind him, "Is this ok with you that we're here? I would have told you but I wasn't sure what repercussions would happen if I was the one to spill the beans. Plus seeing the look on your face when you opened the door..."

You grab one of the pillows from him and playfully whack him with it.

"How dare you," you laugh, "And of course it's ok. You're welcome here any time. The fact you keep willingly coming back to this circus amazes me every time."

Bucky just shakes his head and holds his pinky up to you. Those piercing blue eyes staring right at you with his stupidly handsome face.

You smile as you hook your own pinky around his, reminding you of his promise back in the attic during your last movie night together. "Promise you'll tell us if the crazy gets to be too much?"

Somehow we still haven't scared him away. He's gorgeous but you're worried he might be a beautiful idiot.

"Happy almost New Year," you smile as you place your hand on the side of his face, the stubble tickling your palm. He smiles down at you in return, "Happy New Year's Eve." He starts to lean in but you're lost in thought for a moment.

"Wait," You blink and Bucky halts his movement, "Did you guys tip the pizza delivery?"

"It was a young kid, he got a picture with Sam and ran off in his excitement after."

"Damn, that's genius." Note to self, remember that for the next time we order delivery.

You kiss his cheek and hand him the pillow back. "Well, I'm pleasantly surprised and glad you're here. Your continued movie education awaits. You first," you gesture up the stairs, "I'm just gonna go help Nora real quick." Bucky stares at you for a moment, an eyebrow raised as he tilts his head.

He goes to question you but you interrupt as you start to back away, "I'll be right up!"

He gives you a face that looks like you just kicked his dog and you suddenly realize in your frazzled state you gave him the brush off. You step closer again and place your hands back on his face.

"Hi, sorry. Starting over," you crank up the excitement, "I'm so happy you're here. Happy almost New Year!" You move his face between your hands back and forth for emphasis.

"Happy New Year's Eve," he repeats his part in amusement.

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer into a sweet kiss. Bucky slowly rests his forehead against yours after, his piercing gaze searching yours with a light smile.

"Sorry for the awkward scatter brain. Was just caught off guard."

"S'fine. Don't do it again though," he jokes with you.

"An eight year old wasn't trying to set me up with a stranger for no reason. He's aware I'm a basket case."

"If you think you're a basket case, I don't know what that could possibly mean for me then."

"Well, the remaining roles available are brain, athlete, criminal, and princess. If you don't understand that reference we'll add it to the growing movie list. But I'm voting princess," you quip and kiss his nose quickly before you step away, "See you upstairs, your majesty."

He glares down at you sceptically, but decides not to bother questioning you. He's sure he'll find out at some point. He shakes his head while adjusting his backpack strap on his shoulder and making his way over to the stairs.

You escape into the kitchen in a flash but wait a moment, listening to Bucky's footsteps make it up the stairs before you say anything.

"Nora, how could you?" You try to keep your voice low while you whisper yell at her.

She clearly knew about this and said nothing this whole time.

"I made sure you looked cute today! Come on!"

"Traitor."

"Why are you even in here? I don't need your help. Go make out with your handsome future husband."

"I'm moving somewhere tropical and far away from all of you," you mutter as you grab a tote bag off the counter.

"Send postcards! Save a guest suite for us," she blows a kiss at you. "Oh, that also sounds sunny! Make sure Bucky gets your back for you when you need to reapply sunscreen."

You send a middle finger (with love of course) her way as you exit the kitchen.

Bucky lets out a low whistle when he reaches the attic space, "Wow."

"How does it get cooler every time we come up here? What is this?" Sam waves his arms towards the fully decorated ceiling.

Benji's previous surprise movie set up had been recreated but on a much larger scale.

The couch was set up much the same with it's pillows lined up, sheet canopies hanging over it, and string lights surrounding the area. However Prudence had helped Benji cover the rest of the space to look like the room was basically a giant blanket fort, with sheets draped and hanging from the ceiling from various strings and pins.

The king size and queen size foam mattress toppers that belong both on your bed and Nora's now took up residence on the floor for some padding along with every cushion that could be found and removed in the house, making one large cozy area. Sam tosses his backpack down, flopping onto his stomach on the padded floor next to it, "I'm moving in."

Benji jumps on top of him, "Heck yeah!"

"Hi fellas!" Prudence greets from her spot on an oversized beanbag chair, her boyfriend Monty next to her.

You make your way up the attic stairs with Nora, the large tote full of snacks and candies in your hands.

You hold the tote open to Bucky with a grin when you reach the top of the stairs.

"Are you sharing?" He asks while peering into the bag.

"I suppose," you tease, "Go ahead and pick your poison."

The lights dim as Bucky goes to reach into the bag and "Get Ready For This" by 2 Unlimited starts playing. The recognizable beat pumping through the Bluetooth speakers.

"Ohh, here we go," you sigh but laugh.

The starting line "Y'all ready for this?" announces Theo's presence as he starts pumping his phone in the air while the lights in the room start flashing with the help from Nora flicking the switch off and on rapidly to the music.

Benji groans. "Every time," he grumbles while crawling off of Sam and standing back up.

"Party peopleeeee!" Theo shouts as he reaches the top of the stairs.

Nora turns the lights back on, "Everyone go ahead and pick out your movie choice for tonight. Try not to share your choice yet."

Sam and Benji move to huddle by a large shelf of DVDs.

Sam silently holds up a copy of Sleepless in Seattle to Benji with an eyebrow raised.

Benji's eyes widen as he continues their silent exchange with a violent head shake side to side.

Sam slowly puts the DVD back on the shelf and gestures to locking a key over his mouth and throwing it over his shoulder.

"I knew that line about soulmates, puzzle pieces and cosmic forces sounded familiar," he points an accusing finger at the small agent of mischief.

Benji smirks and flashes his choice so only Sam can see. They both break into a giggle fit and high five.

Meanwhile across the room, you stand next to Bucky, "Do you have any favorites you'd like to pick out? If we don't have the physical copy we can try finding it online and just hold up a photo on my phone."

"Haven't been big on movies these days. I caught part of a movie recently playing on one of the TV's at the bar? Never saw the end, definitely didn't start watching at the beginning either. Just glimpses here and there."

"Do you know what it was? We could find that one if you are interested."

"Never saw the title," he shrugs.

"Oooh, a challenge," you rub your hands together and turn to face him better, "Let's see... Was it real life or animated?" You lean in, face turning serious in concentration.

He laughs lightly under his breath at your switch in demeanor, "Not animated. It was in space? It had people and robots in it."

"Oh hell yeah, okay. Let's see... Was it like a moon landing situation? Or maybe trapped on a planet?"

"Uh.. buncha people with terrible aim. Like, astonishingly bad aim. They were in a garbage compactor that was closing in..?"

"BUCKY, please shut your beautiful mouth right now. Star Wars????"

"That's the movie people always bring up?"

You grab his arm and yank him over to the many movie collections. You pull 'A New Hope' out and hand it to him.

"Yeah, that's the one. The girl with the hair," he holds the cover up to your face to compare side by side. "Yours are cuter," a sweet but devilish smile appears on his face as he references your hair that's up in two buns.

You swat the case away from your face, "Is this what you'd like to pick? You might get some heat for choosing this... Just a fair warning."

He shrugs while tucking the case under his arm.

"Beautiful mouth, huh?" He smiles slyly over at you.

You fix a playful glare at him, "Now is not the time, Barnes. This is serious business."

"Okay!" Nora announces, "For our esteemed guests, welcome. We're glad to have you join us. Everyone please put your choices behind your backs and line up when you're ready."

You all finish grabbing your choices and gather in a line, standing side by side. You pull on Bucky's arm and direct him to stand next to you. Benji grins up at him and tosses his arms around Bucky's waist, giving him an excited hug. Bucky freezes at first and then relaxes, ruffling Benji's hair. Benji lets go and gives his attention back to what's going on in the room.

"Here's the deal," Theo begins, "We each get a turn. When it's your turn you step to the front and present your choice. When you hold the movie up, we like to say a line from the movie for an added razzle dazzle, you don't have to though. The next person goes up and does the same with their movie. We then vote on which one stays and which one goes. The winner stays and the next entry goes up against them. We repeat until the last movie is standing. Got it?"

You all nod and confirm your understanding of the rules.

"Since we're watching more than one movie tonight, how are we deciding follow up winners?" Prudence asks.

"Well I mean, if you insist, I will choo-"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence," Nora cuts Theo off.

"Guests could choose," Prudence suggests.

"What about the youngest? Hellooo?" Benji cuts in, waving his hand.

"We could go by highest rating on IMDb?" Monty adds.

Arguments break out. You roll your eyes and go back to picking out chocolate from your tote. You grab a snickers and inspect the wrapping and then silently offer a piece to Bucky, tapping his arm with the wrapper to grab his attention. He smiles and accepts your offering while you rip into a KitKat and take a bite. "This could be a minute."

Sam nods over to you and holds his hands up in a stance ready to catch. You reach into the tote again and toss over a random candy for him. He catches the orange Reese's and gives you a thumbs up.

"Alright!" Nora interrupts the bickering, "Raffle style? We pull from a hat."

A chorus of fiiiiine's agree and you're all finally ready to continue.

Theo steps up to present his choice first. "Pockets ain't empty, cuz." He proudly slides a copy of 2 Fast 2 Furious out from behind his back.

Nora rolls her eyes. "Another one?! Again? Why the second one?"

Theo puts his hand over his heart, "How could you? You're my wife, my FAMILY."

"Don't you dare say it-"

"You're gonna turn your back on family?"

Nora's palm covers her face.

"This is the fourth time in a row he's chosen a fast and furious movie," you whisper to Sam and Bucky, taking another bite of your candy.

"I heard that," Theo points at you, "and that is a lie. This is my seco-... No wait, it's the third time."

"And you don't choose them in any order. You just pick random ones! Last time we watched one of the more recent ones, now you wanna go back to not the first but the second movie? Make it make sense," Nora argues. They both stick their tongues out at each other.

Prudence skips up next to Theo, "Well this should be an easy choice then." She holds up her choice over her head: Hot Rod. "You look pretty. What did you say? Uh, I said you look shitty. Goodnight, Denise!" She quotes while mimicking the two different voices.

You laugh while pointing towards Prudence, "Cool beans!" You quote back.

The majority votes for Prudence and Theo dejectedly goes to stand to the side, Monty stepping up in his place.

"You have been weighed, you have been measured, and you have been found wanting," he kneels while holding up A Knight's Tale over his head, "Come back when you're worthy."

"Dang. Sorry Prue," you join the votes and point over to Monty.

"It's a worthy choice, I understand." She moves to the side and Nora steps in her place.

"D-i-g, what's that spell?" She swings the DVD case for Holes like a shovel, "DIG!"

Theo groans, "I'm tired of this, Grandpa!"

"Well that's too damn bad!" Nora shouts back.

Bucky looks over at you with visible confusion written on his face.

"They're still quoting the movie," you answer for him.

He nods but still seems baffled by this movie selection process. You link your arm around his and pat it in a gesture to show your silent support among the chaos.

Votes stick with A Knight's Tale. It was close though.

"If you forget to come back for Madame Zeroni, you and your family will be cursed for always and eternity," Nora does her best Eartha Kitt impression as she moves aside.

Finally it's your turn. You let go of Bucky's arm and make your way over next to Monty.

"I do a great impression of a hot dog!" You scrunch your shoulders up and neck down, holding up Mrs. Doubtfire.

"HelloooOOooo!" Prudence cheers while voting for you.

"My first day as a woman and I'm already getting hot flashes!" Nora points to you as well.

"It was a run-by fruiting," Benji giggles.

"I'm melting like a snow cone in Phoenix," Sam joins in, Benji giving him a high five.

Bucky's eyebrows scrunch together. Benji tugs on his hand and pulls him down to whisper in his ear.

Standing back up, Bucky clears his throat and answers, "Help is on the way, dear?"

"Yeah!" You all cheer.

Bucky blushes a bit at the attention. Benji grabs his arm, giving it an excited shake.

"Alright, alright." Monty surrenders and steps aside.

Sam starts singing in a deep voice as he walks up next to you, "Bow bow, Oooh yeahhhhh," he raises his movie up, "Chick, chicka-chickaaaa!"

His voice goes monotone as he continues, "Bueller..... Bueller......"

It's a strong choice but votes stick with Mrs. Doubtfire instead of Ferris Bueller's Day Off.

Bucky shyly makes his way up next to you. You give him an encouraging nod and smile. His face is scrunched up and unsure, "I'm not really prepared with a quote or anything..."

"Wait! Hang on," you pull out your phone, quickly typing away. "One second... Almost got it... Fucking ads - five more seconds please..." You watch the countdown waiting for 'Skip Ads' to finally appear. "Ok! On the count of 3," you nod over at Bucky. You hold up three fingers, two, one, and then point over at him as you press play.

The intro to Star Wars dramatically blares as Bucky presents his choice.

"Boooo, hiss!" Prudence yells out towards you.

"You coached him!" Theo argues.

"Party foul, bending the rules to your advantage!" Monty joins in.

"I didn't coach shit! This was his choice! So be nice!"

"Then you two really are perfect together," Nora rolls her eyes.

"The rule was I can't choose this movie ever again. Our GUEST chose it!"

Bucky's eyes are wide as he stands frozen, trying to figure out what is happening.

"Uh, we can skip my choice?"

"Of course not, Bucky. So sorry for freaking you out. Y/n has made us watch this a million times. Open the case, we started a tally mark system for them," Nora motions towards the case.

He opens the case and sees the cluster of line tallies filling the inside cover.

"I tried to warn you," you shrug at him.

"At least it's not Lord of the Rings again," Theo sighs.

"You leave my precious out of this," you point at Theo accusingly, "I would cut off your head, Dwarf, if it stood but a little higher from the ground."

Theo rolls his eyes at you.

"I'm just gonna.. step aside... No votes necessary, really," Bucky assures.

"You're all a bunch of jerks. Bucky, I will gladly watch the entire series with you. You're not getting out of it that easy."

"Wait, have you not seen them before?" Nora asks.

"I've only seen parts of that one," Bucky shrugs and moves back to his original spot.

"Well, that's a different story I guess," Monty shrugs, "but still not enough to sit through it again. Sorry."

"Nerf herders," you mutter under your breath.

Benji dances up to the empty spot. "With it being New Years, I have decided to go with a more New Year resolvation related choice."

"Resolution," Theo corrects.

"Yeah, that." Benji reveals his DVD, holding it up with a wide grin. Uncle Buck.

Prudence lets out a snort that instantly makes her start giggling even harder. "Remember when you showed me his first ultrasound and I told you ' this baby is destined for greatness'?" She asks Nora next to her, "Absolutely knocked it out of the park."

"Well, that was fun. I'm so honored to have the winning choice," you interrupt while shoving Benji's face as you push by him.

"Hey! We didn't vote yet!" Benji protests.

"Are you really sure you want us all to watch this? Mr. 'Where do you live, own or rent?' Hm?" You whisper the last part to him, hinting at you knowing all about his previous kitchen interrogation after prying the info out from Bucky yourself during your first date.

Benji's eyes widen as he gasps. "I, uh, I... Y'know what... I was just being silly. You know meee, just gotta get that title joke in there. I.. take back my choice and pass," he plasters on a nervous grin as he hides the movie behind his back, "Maybe next time!"

Bucky raises an eyebrow but you refuse to look over at him.

"Can I see that?" He asks Benji with a smirk.

Theo and Nora claimed the couch.

On the floor area in front of it Monty and Prudence assembled their own little nest where they gathered some of the extra cushions and blankets around them.

You were next to Prudence, a wall of cushions between the two of you and a stack of pillows from your bed behind you. Bucky is next to you with his pillow he brought with him, the other pillow he carried in earlier was Sam's. Sam is on the other side of Bucky, an empty space left between them for Benji who called 'dibs' on the spot before disappearing downstairs.

While Theo sets up your winning movie for Mrs. Doubtfire, you get up to grab some plates and pass out pizza slices with Prudence who passes out the drinks.

You place one more plate of pizza in Benji's open space and sit back down in your spot with your own.

As you're pulling your blanket over your lap, loud thumps and clatters from Benji running back upstairs start to echo and he emerges carrying a bag full of items over his shoulder like a small Santa Claus. He plops everything down immediately.

"Here you go, Sam." Benji grins while tossing a thick rolled up fleece blanket over to him.

"Ayyy! Thanks so much, big guy." Sam unrolls the blanket and tosses it up slightly to spread it over his legs, revealing a large captain america shield on it. "It's perfect," he laughs.

"Do I get a blanket?" Bucky asks, looking over at the blanket and back over to Benji in betrayal.

"I'm all out. Sorry. You'll have to share one," Benji smirks and scurries away.

"I wonder who he thinks you'll share with," you ask in an airy tone while pretending to brush dirt off and pick lint from the comforter over your lap, tucking it closer under your legs with one hand while taking a bite of your pizza with the other.

Bucky gives you a side eye, but you keep a straight face while focusing on your pizza. A piece of mozzarella stretches as you pull it away and place it back on your plate.

Sam makes a show out of smoothing his blanket out as well, pulling it up over his shoulders and giving them a shimmy. "So cozy. Wow. It's like I'm being hugged by a fluffy cloud."

Bucky shakes his head at both your antics.

"You can share with us, BB." Monty lifts a corner of their blanket up with a wink.

Suddenly the large blanket over Prudence and Monty disappears towards their feet. Benji has their blanket tangled at his feet as he walks away. "Whoops," he shrugs while shuffling his feet and the blanket around some more like a plate of spaghetti. You almost break, but manage to keep a straight face still. Benji then grabs two chunky black plastic objects from his earlier pile and you know exactly what they are. One definitely came from your room, the other from his own. He rushes over to the corner of the room and plugs one in, setting the object down on the floor at a slight angle. He then rushes to the other corner of the room and does the same with the second one. He excitedly runs over to the light switch, shutting off the overhead lights, leaving only the movie projector and the string lights lighting the room.

"Sure, I didn't need to see anything," Theo grumps, remote in hand still clicking around on the screen.

"It's a projector, you can see better in the dark," Nora shakes her head at him.

Benji excitedly plops down in his spot and leans over to Bucky. "Are you ready for this??"

"Da na na, da d-da da, na na-" Theo starts singing the same 2 Unlimited song from earlier.

"Dad, stoppppp!" Benji swats behind him at Theo. "Anyways! Watch this!" He holds up two small remotes and presses the power buttons on them.

Two more projectors come to life, but these cast laser dots to look like stars with multi-color aurora light effects dancing around the room.

"Are you kidding me?? I'm forwarding my mail. How much for my share of rent?" Sam asks Theo behind him.

"We'll crunch some numbers and get back to you," Theo answers.

"I could stare at this for hours," Bucky watches in awe as the colors slowly shift and dance around.

"I bought Benji one for his birthday and then immediately bought one for myself. Ceilings are so boring and depressing without them now."

"Can we turn the spinning off? It makes me slightly nauseous," Prudence requests.

"On it," Benji presses a button and the laser stars stay stationary in their positions, they continue to blink in and out softly and the Aurora effect is still shimmering and shifting colors.

"Perfect, thank you!"

Benji starts making himself comfortable in his spot between Bucky and Sam. He has wrapped himself in his favorite fleece blanket that looks like a giant tortilla and has managed to lounge his way across both Sam and Bucky, shoving a large slice of pizza in his mouth.

The 20th Century Fox logo pops up on the screen as the opening music for Mrs. Doubtfire starts playing.

A sense of calm washes over Bucky as he relaxes. Next to Wakanda he thinks he has found a new favorite spot. A feeling catches him off guard. A feeling he hasn't had a lot of experience with in a long time... Home. He has had a similar taste of it when he visits the Wilson's, but he still felt more like an outsider looking in. This though. This felt different. He looks over at you.

You were still sitting up, a bag of chips now resting in your lap while you toss candies back and forth with Prudence. A smile is stretched across your face as the two best friends giggle at each other. Monty retrieved their blanket.

Benji has his head resting back against Bucky's chest and left shoulder, while one leg stretches across Sam's shins. Bucky's vibranium arm rests across Benji's small shoulders, his forearm bent up allowing his hand to rest on top of Benji's head.

You smile and shake your head when you look over and see Benji has made himself comfortable. In his own little chosen people bubble. Wrapped as a cozy pizza-eating burrito.

You give in and lift the edge of your blanket and comforter, tossing it over what you can reach of Bucky.

He looks down in surprise for a moment and then smiles over at you. With his Benji-free right arm, he adjusts the blanket over his legs. You scooch over closer, purely to make it easier to share of course. He nudges you with his shoulder in thanks. You tap him with your knee as your silent reply.

During the movie Benji grabs a bag of peelable red licorice strips that he starts chowing down on. Every few peels he'll hold a couple strings up and offer them to Bucky or Sam.

Mrs. Doubtfire wraps up and you all get up to stretch and take bathroom breaks while setting up for the next movie.

You start clearing up some discarded pizza plates.

"Anybody want some cake?" Nora asks.

"Yes!" Benji cheers.

Nora goes to open a cake box, revealing a decorated vanilla & chocolate marble cake made to resemble a clock.

"Theodore, why is the 5 o'clock slice missing?" She points the serving knife over at her husband.

"Uh.. because seven ate five?"

Prudence lets out a snort of laughter. Nora just sighs while shaking her head, slicing into the cake to serve the rest.

"Alright, Benji," you hand him a plastic cup, "I scribbled down the movies on paper scraps and put them in the cup. Go ahead and pick out the next movie."

"How do we know you didn't put Star Wars in there for every entry?" Monty points an accusing finger at you.

Benji reaches in and pulls out A Knight's Tale. You hold a middle finger up while Monty cheers, "Only joking, sweet Y/n. I knew you'd never do that." He cuts his eyes over to Prudence quickly, mouthing "What are the odds?"

"You owe me five," she mouths back while holding up her hand.

Monty gives her a quick high-five, earning an eye roll from Prudence. "That was my fault for not being more specific that I meant dollars, you cheeky bastard."

Monty grins and leans over, stealing a kiss from her.

Mid-movie Benji let's out a slight snore-snort as he startles himself awake, sitting up straight. "Wha- is it midnight yet?" He rubs at his eyes.

"It's not even 8pm yet, you lightweight," you toss a smaller pillow at him and it bounces off his head.

"Heyyy. So rude." He yawns while laying back down but instead of leaning back on Bucky again, he burrows into his own stack of pillows.

Bucky takes advantage of his newly freed arm and range of motion, reaching over to steal some of your snacks. You playfully glare over at him in mock offense as he gives you a smirk in return.

Benji pops his head back up suddenly, a new wave of energy hitting him at his sudden thought. His head whips around to look over at his parents on the couch behind him, his eyes staring owlishly wide at them.

Theo whispers over to Nora, "We made that terrifying little being."

"Straight up brought that chaos into this world," she whispers back. "How can we help you, sweet definitely-not-possessed baby boy of ours?"

"Can we play my new board game?"

"That sounds more like a group vote decision, my love."

Benji sits up on his knees sitting back enough to have all eyes on him. The overkill gut-punch pout and large puss in boots eyes appear, "Can we all play my new board game, pleeeease?" He clasps his hands together under his chin making sure to tilt his head and pitifully look at each adult while he begs.

"Man, that is stone cold. How do you say no to that?" Sam asks.

You and Nora sigh at the same time, "You don't."

"Which board game is it, Ben Ben?" Prudence asks.

"I'll go get it!" He leaps up and runs to a closet in the corner

"Are you sure you can stay awake long enough to play a game?" You tease.

"I was not sleeping! I was resting my eyes like Pop-pop! It wasn't my fault, Bucky's arm must have some sort of sleeping magic."

"Sleeping magic?" Bucky and Nora ask at the same time.

"Can't say I've unlocked that feature before," Bucky answers while flexing and twisting his arm back and forth as the plates shift with the motion.

"Please tell whoever made it I will donate my entire body to get some of this sleeping magic. Even if it's just a pinky," Nora pleads back.

"I'll pass that along," Bucky laughs.

Benji runs back in with his new board game proudly held over his head. A box that says... Benjopoly?

"Benji, what is this?" You ask taking the box from his hands to get a closer look.

"It's a custom monopoly board!" He jumps up and down in excitement.

"Hey, our house is on a spot!" You point at a spot on the box, "How cool! Why is this the first time I'm seeing this?"

"He wanted to surprise everyone with it today," Nora shrugged, "I haven't even seen some of the choices he went with yet."

"So can we play, pleeeease??" He begs.

You open the lid and hold the box back out to Benji. He's practically vibrating with excitement as he pulls the board out.

As Benji lays the board out you get a closer look at the property choices around the board. You also catch a glimpse at the little trinkets for player pieces.

"Sweet Jesus...." You sigh and shut your eyes while you press your fingers against them.

"What?" Bucky questions, "You okay?"

You clear your throat, "Fine, I'm fine..." You grab Benji by the back of his shirt and tug him over into your lap. He lands with a thump and gazes up at you with a look of complete innocence, but you know it is anything but. Placing your forehead against his, you playfully glare into his tiny mischievous eyes, "Wanna delight me with an answer on why you chose these places?"

Your house, the library, museum of natural history, a few fancy hotels, the gazebo at a local park, Brooklyn botanic garden, the aquarium, even Disneyland and the Smithsonian were on here. These were all innocent enough until you started noticing things like your childhood family church, city hall, the large barn on your uncle's property where Nora and Theo were married and you finally start to piece together... These were all a variety of wedding venue options. The player pieces? You noticed a diamond ring, top hat, flower bouquet, and a limo amongst them.

He beams up at you in return and rubs his nose against yours. He then pulls you into a tight hug, squeezing the life out of you. "Just some favorite places!"

"Oh hey, it's Uncle Dave's barrnnnn-ooooh..." Nora's sudden epiphany hits next. She looks over at you, her eyes wide but trying to keep a neutral face. She mouths, "I didn't know," over to you and winces.

"Oooh? Oooooh what?" Theo asks her.

"Uh..I was just thinking how long this is gonna take to play... Bubs, I know you're excited about this, but what do you think about something less time consuming? Like maybe Uno?"

Benji pouts and huffs while getting up and going to grab the deck of cards instead.

Nora makes quick work of packing up the board game and discarding the box discreetly under the couch.

At 10:45pm Prudence jumps up and starts lining up plastic champagne flutes, filling them with a sparkling cider. Benji also gets up and grabs a shopping bag from the corner of the room, pulling out a stack of cone shaped party hats, glittery gold paper crowns, and some foil horns to blow into. He passes out one of each to everyone, asking each person, "hat or crown?" while holding each option up.

You try to figure out the best way to make this work with your hair up. You grab two crowns. Bucky takes one from you and helps you adjust the sizes to put a crown around each bun on top of your head. He shakes his head once they're on and pulls his phone out, snapping a photo of you posing with your hands under your chin. Benji and Theo can be spotted in the background giggling as they were also trying to figure out how to give Theo a mohawk look with the party hats, elastic strings meant to go under your chin covering his face at weird angles to accommodate multiple hats going along the back of his head, which only makes them giggle harder. Nora shakes her head at their antics but has a smile on her face as she watches the two in amusement, a crown already on her head as well.

You grab Bucky's phone and go to take a picture of the both of you. He places his arm over your shoulder and smiles for the photo. After you take a couple to make sure you get a cute one you tell Sam to move closer and join in for a photo.

"I don't want a photo of Sam," Bucky argues with a huff. You lightly elbow him and Sam ignores Bucky, plastering a goofy grin on his face for a photo with both of you, while yelling "Misterwives!" as his way of saying 'cheese!'

Prudence checks her phone, "My co-worker lives up the street. She said they're all at the park having a new years party. Looks like there's a projector show of their own set up against the nearby buildings to watch the ball drop with music. Anybody interested in checking it out? We have enough time to get over there."

You trade your cookie monster bathrobe for a long wool coat and slip on your boots on the way out.

Bucky is giving an overtired, sugar-buzzed Benji a piggyback ride. Benj yaps away in his ear as you all walk along the sidewalk

"We have a 'bring your favorite person to school' day coming up soon. Can you come?" He asks Bucky while playing with the cone party hat on Bucky's head.

"EXCUSE me?!" Theo, Nora, and you stop short and yell at the same time.

"I can't pick just one of you. Two of you will get all butthurt. So I'm choosing outside the box.. or roof..? And then you all can be equally butthurt together."

"Unbelievable. The audacity," Nora scoffs and keeps walking while holding Theo's hand.

"Judas," Theo grumbles.

"Good thing we kept the receipts on those Christmas presents."

Benji ignores them and continues, "We eat lunch and they have some games set up around. We would totally crush it." He holds his fist up.

"Am I expected to make some sort of presentation?"

"Nope!"

"I'll think about it, but I think you have better options, pal."

"Nope!" He repeats and squeezes his grip around him.

"I thought I was offended before, now I'm extra offended. The absolute nerve," Theo scoffs.

"I'll text you the info," Benji fake whispers.

You get separated from Bucky at the park. He went to get you a water but he hasn't returned yet. You make a quick sweep through and finally find him, his body language clearly showing discomfort as he looks around. A woman is standing in front of him trying to pull him into conversation. You walk over and see his shoulders sag slightly with relief.

"There you are, we were about to start a search party!" You joke as you walk up to him and link your arm around his. "Hello," you greet the woman standing in front of him.

"Oh, hi!"

"This is the future Mrs," Bucky tilts his head towards you.

Her eyes dart down to your gloved hands.

"Yup, that's me," you play along, "Nice to meet you. Are you the owner of the salon on 8th? I think I've seen you there before? I've had an appointment with Mac before."

"Oh yes! We miss her. She moved back west after the baby was born."

"I heard. I'm happy for her, but she will definitely be missed."

"You'll like Alex, he has the same aura. Very welcoming and highly recommended by clients. His bridal updos are to die for."

"I'll keep that in mind. Happy New Year," you wave to her as you steer both you and Bucky away.

"We lose you for a few minutes and you're nearly on your way to another future wife, you stud."

"Haa-haa," he gives a flat response back, pulling you closer to him. "Can we go find the others before she decides to appear again?"

"What, you weren't enjoying your conversation with crazy eyes? She's loaded, you could have been her sugar baby."

The midnight countdown echoes as everyone chants down from ten.

At 'three', Bucky gently tugs you closer while his hand cups your jaw. His vibranium fingers brush gently against your chin, tilting your head towards him. You can feel your heart pounding faster in anticipation. The growing noise of the excited crowd starts to fade as he pulls you into a soft, tender kiss. Your lips fitting perfectly together.

The midnight cheers erupt and echo around you as you fight your own internal fireworks erupting for your new year's kiss. Time feels like it slows to a crawl.

"Happy New Year," you whisper with a grin when you finally pull away. You can't help but let out a laugh.

"Why are you laughing? What's so funny?" He squints down at you.

"Sorry, I don't wanna ruin the moment... This is just so cheesy," you bite your lip while holding back another laugh at the stunned look on his face.

"Cheesy? Cheesy?? You think this is cheesy, huh??" He squeezes your waist, while he playfully taunts you. With each question his face inches closer to you.

You break into laughter as his fingers tickle into your sides.

"I'll show you cheesy," his grip tightens as he dips you backwards, pulling you in for a breathtaking kiss.

Bucky lifts you back up and you both take a moment to breathe before he interrupts and pulls you back in for a more passionate kiss.

Benji makes his presence known by blowing a foil horn at both of you. The loud sound startles you away from the kiss. "Ew, was his tongue in your mouth? Or was that your tongue? Either way, tongue was involved here." He holds an accusing finger up at the two of you as his face twists in disgust.

Theo places a hand over Benji's forehead and directs him away. "Stop making things weird. Keep moving."

"I'm making it weird?? But that can't be sanitary!"

You hide your face against Bucky's shirt, both of you shaking with laughter. Tears fill your vision from a combo of the cold weather and your laughter. Your face burning up from both the exertion of laughing and the embarrassment of being called out by your nephew.

You finally look up and go to wipe your eyes but Bucky beats you to it. His finger slides along your cheek first and then gently swipes his thumb under your eyes. He takes extra care to wipe some of your smudged eyeshadow at the corners and he smiles warmly at you in the process.

"Are you gonna finally let me call you mine, or will Benji need a 12 step plan drafted up to help convince you?"

"I dunno, I might have to update my cootie shots and consult with the counsel. It's a whole to-do."

He growls and goes to squeeze your sides again, playfully nipping at your chin and cheek, "C'mere."

You giggle as you try to back away but he only squeezes you closer, "I'm still waiting for an answer," he locks his arms around you, holding you in place.

"How could I say no to this face?" You try to go squeeze his face but he has your arms pinned to your sides.

"That's not a proper answer," he squeezes tighter. "Are," he leans closer, "you," and closer, "my girl," his nose brushes against your cheek, "or not?"

"Yes."

You let out a surprised squeal as his bends slightly, moving his grip around your hips and upper thighs, lifting you off the ground and giving you an excited spin.

You gather the group back up and start to head back to the house. This time Theo gives a dozing Benji a piggyback ride.

You squeeze Bucky's hand and smile over at him. He squeezes back and pulls you closer as you both continue walking behind the group. You still can't believe how this all started. You're still expecting to blink and this all was one big hallucination.

Nora unlocks the front door as you return to the house and you all make your way back upstairs after discarding your coats and shoes.

Theo and Nora grab their pillows from the couch and decide to go sleep in their room. Theo's snoring would keep everyone awake. Although you're surprised Nora doesn't want to stay. She claims without Theo's snoring it's too quiet for her to fall asleep.

They offer Sam the couch, "If you stay down there, Benji sleeps like a starfish and moves around as if he's fighting crime in his sleep," they warn him on their way back downstairs.

"I do not," Benji grunts as he sits up while rubbing at his eyes. He reaches a tired hand up and pulls at a dangling string. A series of sheets pinned to the ceiling fall and section you all into your own little separate fort areas.

The couch area is almost completely covered, and both sides surround you and Bucky into a somewhat tent-like section together.

You hear snickering and look over to see Benji and Sam making shadow finger puppets at each other through the sheets.

Bucky moves to kneel while he grabs his pillow, and starts to shift as if he's going to stand up.

"Um, where are you going?" You ask.

"Home?" He answers, his eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

"What do you mean home? It's late, just stay here?"

"I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"Why? Do you turn into a green ogre like Fiona?"

"I hate that I understand that reference now."

"You loved that movie and you know it. Stay and we can watch Shrek 2."

"They made another one?" He looks baffled at this fact.

"Oh, my sweet Fiona," he rolls his eyes at you, "there's a whole franchise. At least 4... or 5? Maybe 6. I'm honestly not sure at this point, but we're going to find out."

"Oh no."

"Oh yes," you grin and grab the remote. You reach for his hand and tug him back down.

Everyone has settled into their spots. Monty and Prudence have already fallen asleep by the time you find the movie.

"Hey, Shrek 2!" Sam cheers quietly.

Bucky places a hand over his face. You try not to laugh as you grab his pillow from him and place it back in it's spot behind him. He moves his hand down to look over at you and shakes his head. You continue to grin over at him as you press play.

"You're still awake?" You whisper. The movie ended at least 15 minutes ago. Everyone else peacefully snoozing around you. Well, it's 50/50 on how peaceful Benji actually is, judging on the awkward position he's contorted and passed out in. Oh to be a kid and not worry about your neck and back again. You're already positive you're gonna be regretting this floor slumber later today, even with the foam padding attempt under you.

It's not that Bucky doesn't want to sleep, he just...can't. Too many people in the room. Too self conscious of having a nightmare and potentially disturbing the rest of the sleeping occupants. The last thing he wanted to be was a burden or a nuisance. His mind is also telling him to stay vigilant as he watches the staircase entrance.

He shrugs as his short answer, not wanting to voice his thoughts out loud.

"Sleep magic run out on you?" You joke, trying to lighten the mood when you see the dark look in his eyes, the wheels turning in thought behind them. You can tell he's fighting his answer, a look of uncertainty on his face, but a lazy smile appears. He shakes his head at you.

Laying on your side, you scoot closer and grab his right arm, hugging it against you. "Can I borrow your sleep magic then?"

Bucky smiles over at you as you drift off. He tugs your pillow closer and tucks it against his arm some more so your head and neck are more comfortable. He places a gentle kiss to your forehead, letting his lips linger for a moment. He slowly tilts his head back up towards the ceiling. However, he continues to stay awake. Silently watching the stars and swirling patterns dance across the room. Soaking in the comfort and the feeling of being surrounded by people that care for him. In their own dream worlds.

Benji starts to stir with a slight grumble. Bucky lazily turns his head and watches the shadow of a small lump shift slightly closer to him behind the sheet.

"Un Buc, m'gumdrops. Gone," he mumbles together in his sleep. "How dare...th's m'ne. Hmmph." He shifts again, an arm and leg flailing as he turns over and starts to settle back into a deep sleep. Bucky shakes his head in amusement and goes back to watching the ceiling.

Hours later, Bucky is still awake when everyone starts slowly shifting and waking up. He hears Prudence and Monty shift around as they quietly make their way downstairs.

You start to stir and stretch next to him soon after. He watches as you rub your eyes and then bury your face into both your pillow and his arm. He waits a moment to see if you're awake. You finally peak up at him, giving him a slurred greeting.

"Mornin', " he greets back with a tired smile. You clock the dark circles under his eyes.

"Please don't tell me you've been awake this whole time."

"Course not. I feel fresh as a daisy."

"Liar."

You sit up, grab your pillows and drag him downstairs.

"Where are we going?" He asks at the bottom of the stairs. You ignore his question and approach the door to your room. "Can't drag me to your bed fast enough, huh?"

"Oh baby, you're about to get hours," you pause and look over at him, leaning up closer, "and hours," you lower your voice and kiss his knuckles quickly, "of great sleep. Let's go." You pull on his arm again and direct him over to the bed. You give him a push towards it and take a step towards the side table. He sits on the edge of the bed and watches as you open the side table drawer, pulling out a small spray bottle. Uncapping it, you give two quick spritzes over the pillow areas and one more in the general area over the bed behind him before putting the cap back on and tossing it back in the drawer.

"What the hell was that?" He blinks at you.

"Lavender spray," you shrug and walk over to your dresser. "It's supposed to be calming and relaxing to assist you with falling asleep." Opening a bottom drawer of the dresser you pull out a water bottle and set it on the side table.

Bucky watches in amusement, observing the other bright colored packages of what looks to be a snack stash in the same drawer before you close it.

"Are you one of those doomsday preppers? Or is it a hoarding thing? What else do you have stashed around here?"

"Look, I'm just trying to survive in this household. Benji and his little friends eat everything. I'm terrified when puberty hits. Also, I don't feel like going all the way downstairs when I'm thirsty," you shrug. "Now will you lay down?"

You pull the blankets back, "Chop chop. Don't make me dump that whole bottle of lavender on you."

He rolls his eyes and lays back against the pillows.

"Is this ok? Are you comfortable? Do you need space and want me to leave?"

He scoots back and grabs your arm, tugging you onto the bed next to him. You sit on the edge of the bed and he pulls your arm again, and then places a gentle hand on your leg making you lay down next to him. You lay on your side facing him.

"That didn't answer my questions. Do you need music? white noise? a bedtime story? I can go grab the comforter," You continue to ramble on.

"Just a good night kiss," he pouts his lips towards you.

You lean over and place a soft kiss to his waiting lips.

He smiles and wraps his arms around your waist, hugging you to him. "Goodnightmorning," he whispers.

You let out a soft laugh in return and place another kiss to his cheek which gets another smile from him.

You start to lightly run your fingertips up and down his forearm and then repeat again lightly with your nails, back to your fingertips.

He hums in appreciation.

"Goodnightmorning. Sweet dreams," you whisper back as he drifts off.

Dividers by @saradika

#Bucky Barnes x Reader #Bucky Barnes Fluff #Bucky x Reader #Bucky Barnes Fanfiction #Bucky Barnes Fanfic #Marvel Fic #Bucky Fanfiction #Bucky Barnes x Fem!reader #Bucky Barnes x y/n #Bucky Barnes x Female Reader #Uncle Buck Fic

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fairycheol · 1 year ago

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Sunday Morning

luke castellan x apollo!fem!reader

cw: pure fluff, kissing, minor injury, a little bit of angst

Everyone at Camp Half-Blood knew how good you were at your job as head counselor for the Apollo cabin. You were strong and agile, and had a great hand in archery, healing, singing and dancing. You were everything an Apollo kid needed to be.

Apollo himself took pride in that. Sending you arrows crafted by Artemis and even requesting Hephaestus make a gold bow just for you. His favorite daughter.

Everyone at camp also knew you as the girl who had stolen Luke Castellan’s heart. The two of you arrived at camp only a day apart, and despite being claimed by Apollo two weeks into your stay at the Hermes cabin, you were able to form a bond with the boy. A bond surely impossible to break. Right?

This Sunday morning was no different then any other day, the sun was up earlier than usual and in true Apollo kid fashion you followed with it. As a camp counselor it was your duty to take on the heavier jobs in camp. Hunting for food with some of the Artemis girls, gathering herbs with the Demeter cabin and other things.

Today’s chores involved restocking the infirmary, Capture the Flag was approaching and knowing Clarisse La Rue there was sure to be a few kids walking in with narly bruises after.

“What’s up Sunshine?” Turning around to the sound of a deep voice from the infirmary entrance you see Luke. His hair is messy and his shirt is inside out. Unlike the other cabins at camp, the Apollo kids don’t get the luxury of sleeping in late.

“Hey Curls you’re up bright and early,”

“Yeah well, Mr.D said I could help you with restocking the infirmary and I won’t pass up an opportunity to spend some time with you.” By this point Luke has walked forward so you stand toe to toe with him. Wrapping your arms around his neck you give him a quick kiss on the lips,

“Well that’s awfully sweet of you,” Luke leans in for another kiss but is stopped by your pointer finger being pushed against his lips

“But! you should probably fix your shirt. It’s inside out and I don’t want you to come mopping to me when Chris makes fun of you for it.” With a pat to his cheek you leave the infirmary closing the door behind you.

When Luke finally joins you outside his hair has been tidied and his shirt has been fixed so you grab his hand and begin to head for the forest.

The two of you spend the next two or so hours in pure harmony and bliss. Throwing strawberries at one another and stealing a few kisses.

Nothing could this moment, except maybe the raging storm that was soon approaching in the form of a 12 year old boy.

#luke castellan imagine #luke castellan x reader #pjo x reader #luke castellan imagines

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sturnioz · 25 days ago

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fb chris and bun somehow getting wrangled into decorating a gingerbread house together only for bun to get very picky on how they decorate it and insist it needs to be the best in the frat. queue fb chris literally just rolling his eyes also, can i be ☁️ anon if it isnt taken??

part two to THIS PROMPT, but can be read as a standalone.

"a'ight, so we only managed to grab a few boxesm so we're doin' this shit in pairs, 'kay? it's me 'n bee, kitty 'n matt, bun 'n chris, jo—"

nate's voice trails off as your heart leaps at the announcement, a wide grin spreading across your face as you clutch the gingerbread pieces in your hands; already picture the creation you want to come to life.

with excited eyes, you lean over the table, scanning the slip of paper with the instructions to build. but when you glance sideways at chris, your excitement begins to waver as you notice the expression on his face — his eyebrows are furrowed, his jaw tight with a slight scowl on his lips, and his arms crossed over his chest as he stares down at the table.

you can't help feel a little disappointed, wishing he could be just as happy as you are to be involved in something like this. still, you try to shake off the feeling and not let it damper your mood as you refocus on the instructions, doing a quick once-over just as nate gives everyone the go-ahead to start.

the building part comes together super quick and easy — sticking the gingerbread slabs together with icing and top notch precision, creating a sturdy yet simple house. as you sift through the box, you lay out the colourful sweets and multiple tubes of icing, envisioning the perfect design that appears in your mind.

but then you panic a when you see chris reluctantly pick up a blue icing tube.

"no!" you quickly blurt out, rushing to take it from his hands, but he pulls it out of reach, his expression unimpressed and slightly annoyed. "don't do blue.. let's stick to red and green icing, keep the christmas theme."

"blue is fine, kid." he replies, his tone flat and dismissive.

"no, it's not," you shake your head, your voice firm despite the flutter of nerves in your stomach. "i.. i have the perfect idea, and—and we need to be the best."

chris raises an eyebrow, his annoyance clear. "this isn't some competition. we're just buildin' a fuckin' gingerbread house that's probably gonna be thrown away the second we're done anyway."

you frown at that, shaking your head again. "i'll keep it safe. i'll take it home. no blue, please—keep it to green and red. or we can use the white icing!"

you pick up the white icing tube and hold it out to chris, hoping that he'll drop the blue and take the white instead. he stares at you for a moment, prodding his tongue against his cheek, before rolling his eyes and dropping the blue icing onto the table with a thud.

he takes the white tube from your hands, muttering, "dunno why you're makin' such a big deal out of this shit, kid."

you murmur back, "i told you.. i want to be the best."

chris shoots you a glare, but you ignore it, turning back to your gingerbread house. you carefully swirl the green icing around the makeshift door, your tongue poking out in concentration as you create a festive wreath, grabbing the red icing to then create a small little bow in the middle.

you try, and fail, to hide the smile when chris leans over you, the annoyed expression still on his face as he squeezes the white icing tube over the roof of the gingerbread house, trying to craft patterns for the tiles.

but you notice his grip is a little too tight, the tube bending under pressure, and a frown tugs at your lips.

"chris you're—"

"shut up, kid—"

"but you—"

"i'm doin' exactly what you asked, yeah? so don't—"

"no i know, but you're squeezing—"

"i swear to fuckin' god—"

chris' words are abruptly cut off when the tube explodes, a sudden burst of white icing erupting from the top and splattering across his shirt. it sprays out chaotically, some drops even landing across his face, leaving streaks of sticky white against his skin.

your mouth drops open in shock, a small gasp escaping as you instinctively take a step back, your eyes wide. chris looks utterly furious, his expression a mix of rage and disbelief, and you can't help but feel concerned... also amused.

the noise immediately draws the attention of the others, who stop that they're doing and turn to witness what just happened. the frat brothers laughs and hollers erupt around the table, and nate struggles to contain himself, his laughter booming as he leans against bee, who giggles uncontrollably, her eyes watery as she tries to hold nate upright as he flails against her.

both kitty and matt are silent, but they exchange glances, their expression amused and the smirks on their faces revealing how much they're finding the situation funny.

meanwhile, chris' shoulders heave with frustration, his jaw clenched as he stands there, frozen in place, icing dripping from his face and clothes, his glare directed straight at you.

"i tried to warn you..." you say softly, your voice barely rising above the laughter around you as you nervously fiddling with your own icing tube. "you were squeezing too hard..."

divider credits. @issysh3ll

#ᯓ꒰asks꒱#ᯓ꒰☁️anon꒱#☆ fratboy!chris #☆ shy!reader #꒰ fratboy!chris x shy!reader prompt ꒱

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violetrainbow412-blog · 3 months ago

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Day 12: "This is spooky" "Really?"

Masterlist flufftober 🎃

Reblog if you liked it!

“Spencer, do we really have to do this?”

From your spot, you pouted while watching your boyfriend struggle with the TV, trying to insert the VHS tape. Seriously, who still had those? you thought as you watched him, but knowing the man, it wasn’t surprising at all.

“Come on, sunshine! We’ve been watching romantic comedies for months. It’s my turn to show you something.”

“But I hate horror movies.”

“We’re starting with the Scream series—it’s no big deal,” he reassured you. “I promise.”

Once he managed to insert the tape, he practically ran back to your side, settling on the couch where there was already popcorn, some Halloween candy, and a couple of other movies Spencer had lined up for the marathon.

“Is that Drew Barrymore? She’s in a great movie, Never Been Kissed. Want to watch that one instead?”

“Is it a romantic one?” he asked, looking at you seriously. You couldn’t deny it.

“I’m going to have nightmares!”

“You’re not going to have nightmares, baby,” he murmured confidently, leaning in to plant a loud kiss on your cheek. “Come on, do it for me. I love these movies, and besides, it’s October. It would be a crime not to watch them!”

You grumbled a bit, resigned to the fact that you wouldn’t get your way, and then shifted to get comfortable, laying your head on your boyfriend’s chest. The truth was you didn’t want to break his heart by saying you didn’t want to watch those movies, but everything involving blood and death completely terrified you. You didn’t even know how Spencer managed to deal with it every day at his job, especially when, once, by accident, he had brought home photos from a case, and just seeing them made you feel like throwing up. You spent several nights with that image stuck in your head and begged him never to share gruesome details about his work with you again.

You reminded him a lot of Garcia. Always in such pretty, feminine dresses, with maybe 80% of your belongings in shades of pink, purple, or any pastel tone, and, of course, a sweet and delicate personality.

He always thought his taste in women was pretty defined in certain aspects, but you had completely broken the mold. You left colorful post-it notes with motivational messages on his beige bureau folders, bought him skincare products, and once a week, you’d do face masks, manicures, massages, among other things for him.

You were the complete opposite of what he saw every day, and maybe that’s why he was so in love with you. Like a beautiful flower in the middle of the desert.

“Did you watch this stuff when you were a kid?” you suddenly asked, still looking at the screen and tracing uneven patterns with the hand you had resting on his chest.

“Some, yeah. I started with the classics, like Carrie, The Craft, The Shining… slasher films were never my favorite subgenre, but they’re the easiest to digest for beginners.”

“So, in this one, that guy just wants to kill everyone?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Lovely,” you muttered sarcastically, making him chuckle.

After thinking about it for a moment, he dared to express the doubt that had been growing from your attitude.

“Hey, baby, do you really not want to watch these? It’s okay if you don’t want to, I didn’t mean to push you. I just thought…”

“It’s fine, Spencer. I mean, I freaking hate jumping out of my seat every five minutes, but if you enjoy this, I want to share it with you. I highly doubt you enjoy my favorite movies as much as I do, but you always let me pick. And you comforted me for almost an hour after we watched The Notebook, so this is the least I can do for you.”

He knew you were being sincere when you said that, and to ease any lingering doubts, you stretched up to kiss him sweetly.

“Besides,” you continued, “you never get any days off, and if the price to pay for spending the whole night cuddling with you is watching these movies, then I’m okay with it.”

He smiled broadly and pulled you closer against his body, as if wanting you to feel completely protected from anything. He was the one who hunted monsters in real life, after all, and you knew that if some crazy killer ever stalked you, Spencer would take care of it.

The truth was, you were getting pretty interested in the movie, as the mystery of Ghostface’s identity kept you hooked. Unfortunately, you were about halfway through the movie when a scene startled you (more than the others had), and you quickly hid your face in your boyfriend’s neck.

“What’s wrong?”

“This is spooky”

“Really?” he laughed, trying not to sound too amused. “I can’t imagine what you’ll say when we watch Texas Chainsaw Massacre.”

“Spencer!” you practically screamed, lifting your head to look at him and playfully hitting him on the shoulder in protest.

“I’m joking…” he defended himself, kissing you as an apology. “Do you want to stop?”

“No, I want to finish it. I’m enjoying it, and I need to know who the killer is.”

“Any guesses?”

“You’re the profiler here, not me. The only thing I can tell you is that the makeup artist on set did a great job.”

Your boyfriend chuckled, and you snuggled back against him, occasionally grabbing some popcorn while letting him feed you candy and marshmallows.

After two more movies, Spencer noticed you had fallen sound asleep against him, and not wanting to disturb your rest, he simply pulled the blanket over you. Once you were fully covered and the TV was off, he rested his head on yours to get some sleep, lulled by the scent of your hair.

To his surprise, on the next movie night, you asked to watch a horror movie, and when he questioned your choice, you simply shrugged.

“When we watch them, you hug me the whole time and kiss me whenever something scares me. Plus, you enjoy them, so we both win.”

He couldn’t help but laugh at that and happily obliged, sticking to what you had said. After a few weeks, the truth was you weren’t that scared anymore, but either way, it was always nice to pretend if it meant getting extra cuddles from your boyfriend. And he, who quickly figured out your little lie, was more than happy to play along.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid x you #flufftober 2024 #prompt list #writing challenge #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid drabble

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say-al0e · 8 months ago

Text

Casual

Rating: M | This is smut! No one under 18! Minors, DNI!

Summary: Steve Harrington has always been kind of an asshole and you've always been kind of in love with him. But a lifetime of friendship doesn't mean either of you are ready for something more than a casual fling because there's nothing scarier than vulnerability, even in Hawkins. [Set between seasons 2 and 3] Warnings: Car sex, requited unrequited love, unprotected PinV, mentions of cheating (parents, Carol; not Steve or Reader). Pairing: Steve Harrington x rich girl!Reader (briefly mentioned but important, off-screen Eddie Munson x rich girl!Reader) Word Count: 5.6k

Steve Harrington was kind of an asshole.

For as long as you’d known him, he’d been a bit of a dick. Luckily, or maybe unluckily, depending on who you asked, you’d known him your entire life. You grew up together, neighbors, with parents who, in their own way, were best friends - if either of your parents were capable of such a thing as friendship. And because of that, you saw a side of Steve that few others had ever witnessed.

There were moments where you saw the softness, the honeyed sweetness, that shimmered through the cracks in the facade he crafted for himself - beneath the hair and the smirk and the snarky quips. Moments where the real Steve, a tender-hearted, well-intentioned sweetheart who was always on the verge of getting it right but never quite managed to make it, lurked beneath the heavy crown he wore.

Just as there were moments when he saw beneath your own carefully crafted persona. He was the only only person who had ever seen the worry, the sadness, the deep-rooted yearning for something more that was buried beneath your walls of ice. He saw every impossibly strong, deeply felt emotion that lingered beneath your careful composure, your even stoicism. He saw the real you, not just the Ice Queen cloaked in department store dresses and expensive perfume.

Only, neither of you acknowledged those moments.

It was an unspoken pact, one you’ve honored since thirteen when you both realized that being popular meant more than being nice. You both pretended that you were still the same vapid rich kids you’d always been, unburdened by a world built to cater to you.

Even if that was no longer true. Even if it hadn’t been true in a very long time.

Either way, you didn’t mention his newfound soft spot for a strange, ragtag group of children and he didn’t mention the fact that he knew the hickey just beneath your jaw was from none other than Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson.

Just as you had nearly every weekend for the past six months, the pair of you sat in the backseat of his BMW after yet another party that neither of you particularly wanted to attend. It had long ago gotten old, pretending to enjoy the self-involved prattling of your former classmates - their bragging about taking on the family business or which colleges they’d be attending in the fall, snide remarks about Steve’s lack of direction while conveniently ignoring the fact that you were the only one with an Ivy acceptance - and you couldn’t help yourself as you huffed.

“Tommy and Carol are the worst. I swear, if I have to hear her bitch about his inability to make her come or him make another stupid fucking dick joke, I’m gonna scream.”

For as long as you could remember, you’d wanted to tell them both to fuck off, to disappear back into whatever hole they’d managed to claw their way out of, but Steve reveled in their following, once upon a time, anyway. Now, he looked almost resigned to their existence in your lives as he frowned.

“She told you that?”

“Won’t stop telling me that,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes as his hand fell to your thigh, fingers idly tracing the bare skin just beneath the hem of your skirt. “I would tell her to break up with him but, honestly, they totally deserve each other. May they spend the rest of their lives making each other completely fucking miserable.”

It was only in these moments, hidden away in the thick of the trees near Lover’s Lake, that any glimpse of your real selves began to emerge. Your annoyed huffing, directed at the awful people you found yourself surrounded by, and Steve’s tender touch as he shifted closer and carefully brushed a lock of hair from your neck. Neither of you mentioned it, too lost in your own little world, but it never escaped either of your notice.

Still, Steve hummed dutifully. “Totally,” he agreed, “told him she cheated on him with Billy but he called me a liar.” He paused for a moment, shifted just a touch closer - his jean covered leg pressing into yours, body warm even in the cool air conditioning - before he changed the subject by asking, “New perfume?”

“Everyone knows about her and Billy. But, like, who hasn’t Billy fucked at this point.” Steve leaned in, nosed at the curve of your jaw, and you hummed. “Mom brought it back from that last conference they went to. Said I needed something more mature before I leave for school.” You left out the part of the conversation where she went on for nearly an hour about how much of a waste it was for you to even consider college in the first place when you were meant to marry someone of status - someone like Steve - and tilted your head to allow him more room.

“Smells good,” he complimented. “Like oranges or something.”

“Or something,” you mumbled agreeably, shifting against the seat to make yourself more comfortable as he began to press his mouth to the sensitive skin of your throat. “What’re you doin’, Stevie?”

“Giving you the attention you deserve,” he answered, never missing a beat and only pausing to nip at the pulse point. “Can’t have you unfucked in this skirt. That’d be criminal.”

As if he sought to make a point, Steve’s hand began to drift higher up your thigh, fingers traveling a well-worn path and ghosting over bruises left in his wake after last Saturday’s party at his own home. Again, he decidedly avoided the few extra spots that lined your thighs - the bite mark he would see when you parted your legs, in the shape of a certain metalhead’s teeth, and the hickey you’d been left with at the juncture of your thighs - as you laughed.

“Should call Hawkins’s finest,” you teased, grinning when Steve huffed a laugh.

“They’d send Callahan,” he mused as his fingers dug into the plush of your thigh and pulled you closer, encouraging you to climb onto his lap. “Would love to see him try to figure out what to do with you.”

“And you know what to do with me?”

Steve’s smirk was obvious, clear even as he nipped at your skin. “‘Course I do,” he assured you, settling back against the plush of the seat as you shifted in the small space and settled on his lap. “I know exactly what to do with you.”

“Prove it.”

The challenge hung in the air for a moment, thick even in the cool interior of his car, and gave you the briefest respite to study him. Soft brown eyes were blown black with lust, a darkness that you sometimes found yourself grateful for the chance to witness, and his hair had begun falling in his eyes. His cheeks were tinged pink and you knew that his lips would follow soon.

Steve was beautiful, a work of art in the dim moonlight, and your heart beat just a touch too fast for something that was supposed to be casual as you waited for him to take the bait.

Before you could tease, attempt to bring some levity back into the moment that suddenly seemed too intense, Steve’s large hand found the back of your head. He pulled you in with a practiced ease, a touch that betrayed just how comfortable you were with one another, and pressed his mouth to yours.

Whereas Steve’s facade was all flash, easy confidence with nothing to prove, his kiss was almost desperate. There was the knowledge that he was good - he’d earned it, sought to learn exactly what you liked and adapted quickly - but beneath that, there was a desire to make the moment everything you could want. He kissed you with an urgency you could never quite understand, almost as if he wanted to savor the moment because he feared it may never happen again, but you knew that couldn’t be true.

As reticent as you both were to delve into your true selves - into your true feelings - you knew that this would happen time and again. It would happen until one of you inevitably broke the other’s heart, and maybe even after.

Still, Steve kissed your with more passion than you ever could’ve expected.

From your position on his lap, skirt bunched around your waist and hands falling into his hair, you could feel the growing bulge in his jeans. There was a slight rocking of his hips, something you might’ve dismissed as an attempt to get comfortable if you didn’t know him so well, and you still managed to find yourself surprised by just how much the little things turned him on.

“Girls like you,” he rasped, breaking the kiss before you could even think to, “just need to be fucked dumb. Be all pretty and cock drunk. Made into that pretty little trophy wife you swear you’d hate to be.”

The way he spoke was so casually condescending, a little mean in the way he’d discovered you liked, and you felt your cheeks heat as you squirmed on his lap. He knew - knew that your mother hated your ambition, swore you were purposely sabotaging her attempts to marry you off, including the few attempts she’d made with him - and smirked when you shot him a half-hearted glare.

“You can pout all you want, but that’s what you need, right?” His hands fell to your thighs, raking up the soft skin as your own tangled in his hair and tugged. “To be taken care of, to be fucked like you deserve.”

“Don’t think some hotshot husband would care enough to fuck me like that,” you countered, swallowing hard in an attempt to maintain your composure as his fingers trailed higher. “Would never come. He’d be too focused on fucking the secretary ‘cause she won’t be upset when he gets off and she doesn’t. But that’s why the trophy wives fuck the pool boys and tennis coaches, I guess.”

Steve hummed his understanding - had his own firsthand knowledge of both your father’s affairs, knew just what kind of men he was surrounded by now that he was old enough - before tipping his chin to glance up at you. “Guess you’ll have to look harder to find someone worth your time, then. ‘Cause this pussy’s too good to be wasted on some dickhead who won’t appreciate it.”

“Steve.” His name came out softer than you intended, a near breathless sort of whine that betrayed you - more than the growing patch of slick clearly visible against the light pink fabric of your panties - and he hummed.

“Don’t worry, babe. You know I’ll take care of you.” Though Steve could be an asshole when he wanted, he was nothing but a giver when he settled between your thighs. There were moments where you worried, secretly feared this might be the moment he decided to be selfish and leave you hanging, but more often than not, you were the one to tap out first. And any argument you could’ve formed died on your lips as he ordered, “Just shut up and sit pretty for me, yeah?”

Despite yourself - despite the part of your brain that wanted you to argue, to fight back and tell him to go fuck himself - you melted into his touch as his fingers ghosted over the fabric between your thighs. You heard him sigh, felt the warmth of his breath fanning over your mouth as he refused to put more space than necessary between you, as his gaze met yours.

“Next time, I’m fucking you in my bed,” he decided, gaze flicking back to where his fingers hooked into the soft material and dragged it to the side. “Can’t taste you the way I want in here.”

“Can’t keep saying shit like that,” you mumbled, nails biting into his skin as you gripped his shoulder to keep yourself upright. “Gonna make me think you actually like eating pussy.”

“I do,” he admitted, grinning when you rolled your eyes. “Like eating yours the best, though.”

With that, Steve’s fingers swiped through the slick gathered between your thighs. His thumb caught on the sensitive bundle of nerves and his mouth returned to yours, eagerly swallowing the soft noise of surprised pleasure you released.

Each swipe of his fingers was easy, almost lazy. There was a practiced ease there, a lover’s knowledge of your body - absent any of the almost nervous exploration of the first time - and you forced yourself not to think too hard about that fact as his tongue swiped at the seam of your lips.

The small space was cramped, not the easiest to maneuver, but it was familiar.

Though sometimes familiarity equated to boredom, routine, Steve’s touch was anything but. Every swipe of his fingers through your folds, every brush of his thumb over the aching bundle of nerves, was electrifying. He had you teetering on the verge of begging, eager for him in a way you’d never been for anyone else - almost anyone else - and you knew he could tell as he finally gave you something more.

Two thick fingers, skilled and steady, pressed into you. They stretched you - never quite enough to fully prepare you for the impressive length hidden beneath the denim you knew you were soaking through - in a way that had your breath catching in your throat and your heart hammering in your chest. Steve knew exactly where to press, fingers finding that one spot that made you see stars, and you could feel the twitch of his mouth as he refused to allow you to pull away from the kiss entirely.

“That’s it,” he encouraged, tone so smug it made you realize why so many were eager to brand him an asshole. “C’mon, babe, the sooner you let go, the sooner I’ll give you exactly what you want.”

Despite your conflicting emotions - the desire to hit him, to call him an asshole and tell him to just get on with it; the desire to kiss him, to tell him that you only wanted this, him for the rest of your life - you settled for the middle ground and allowed yourself to sink into his touch.

Those murmurs of encouragement, almost reverent in a way that you hoped no one else had ever heard, had your mind blanking and your chest heaving as you focused solely on the press of his fingers. His pace was perfect, steady and even and never too much - always too much, always enough to make you wonder how you ever thought you could be fine with losing this someday - and you would’ve told him as much if you were capable of speaking without admitting that you were afraid you could love him for the rest of your life.

Instead, you settled for sinking your nails into his shoulder, for tugging at the soft strands of his hair, as he nipped at your skin. He sucked a mark just beneath the one you knew he’d seen, despite your attempt at concealing it, and that was enough to throw you over the edge.

Steve once admitted to loving the noises you made, promised they turned him on rather than weirded him out - something you only admitted when he asked why you were so quiet, refused to let you come until you explained yourself - and you knew you wouldn’t have been able to quiet yourself even if you’d tried as his fingers worked you through the first orgasm of the night.

Knowing him, Steve wouldn’t stop until he had you desperate - he liked to see your tears, watery eyes and mascara running as you finally let down the walls he’d only glimpsed behind - and that seemed to be the case as he resumed his pace the moment your breathing began to even.

“Steve,” you huffed, your best attempt at something resembling normal, though you could hear the whining edge to your tone. “Fuck me,” you demanded, or at least attempted to. “Fill me up. So big, always feel so full when you’re inside.”

It was a low blow, an attempt to appeal to his ego - exaggerated, though it was true; he was the biggest you’d ever had - and he rolled his eyes as he nipped at your bottom lip.

“So fucking impatient,” he huffed, though he gave in, just as he always did. “Such a spoiled brat.”

With a tap to your thigh, you shifted. You held yourself upright, knees digging into the soft cushions of the seat, long enough for him to unbutton his jeans and shift his hips. As you had every time you found yourself in this situation, which was more often than not lately, you watched with wide eyes and bated breath as he freed himself from the confines of too-tight denim.

For years, you wondered why so many girls flocked to Steve when they knew how things would end. You wondered why anyone gave him a chance, why anyone came back when he forgot to call or blew them off for someone else, but you understood now. The look of him, the weight and feel of his cock in your hand as you reached out and swiped at the pearl of precum beading at the tip, was almost answer enough. The effort he put in to make you feel as if you were the only person that mattered, as if your pleasure were more important than his, quelled the rest of your doubt.

When you lifted your hand to your mouth, lapped the bead from your thumb and hummed, Steve groaned.

“Fucking tease.” There was no bite, no venom, to the words, but you still bit back your grin as he reached for your hip with one hand and held the base of his cock with the other. He dragged you closer, settled you firmly on his lap and swiped the tip of his cock through your folds, as he tipped his chin in a silent request for you to return your mouth to his.

As you pressed your lips to his, he used the grip on your hip to drag your hips down. It was swift, faster than he’d ever gone and almost desperate in the way he pulled you in, but you reveled in the slight pinch as he stretched you open.

There was something so overwhelming about feeling Steve so close, about having him in the way you dreamt of when you first realized how you felt about him, but you did your best to swallow the sudden lump in your throat as your eyes fell shut and your lips parted.

The pace always varied with Steve. Some nights were hard and fast, usually when you were both wound up after a particularly rough night; others were soft and slow, when the emotion began to overwhelm you, when the desperate need to be close outweighed the potential damage a confession might bring. And others still were somewhere in between, teasing and playful; an alternation between soft and hard, slow and quick - a way for him to make you beg, to bring you out of your head and into the moment.

Tonight was no different.

Though you sat atop him, Steve did all the work. His hips snapped, cock pressing into you with every movement, as his hands dragged you down. He controlled the pace, controlled the moment, and you allowed yourself to be fully present.

There was no facade in these moments, no pretending to be anything other than you were, and you imagined that was why you both returned time and again. This was Steve - giving, eager, desperate to be good enough. And you were just as present, just as honest; soft, pliant, warm and overjoyed that he still wanted you despite the surface ice that froze most others out.

Neither of you could pretend here, with nothing between you but a few pesky articles of clothing. Neither of you wanted to.

And you knew, as your mouth returned to his, that despite the rough snap of his hips and the bruising grip he held on your hip, that your kiss betrayed you. Each swipe of your tongue, each breathless gasp you allowed him to swallow, told him exactly what he needed to know.

When his hand fell between your thighs, thumb pressing to the aching bundle of nerves, your mind went blank and your thoughts revolved solely around the beautiful brunette beneath you.

The curve of his jaw, the warmth of his eyes, the slope of his nose, the plush of his lips; Steve, Steve, Steve, was all that existed in your mind. The drag of his cock, filling you so perfectly that it almost seemed as if he were a missing piece, designed especially for you, was all that existed. And just as he wanted, it left you pliant in his hands.

“There we go,” he groaned, voice softer than you imagined he intended, as a hand lifted to your cheek. “Look at that, givin’ you what you need, hm?” When you moaned your agreement, lips pursing in a silent request for him to kiss you, Steve smiled. “Look pretty like this. Soft and fucked out for me. I’m the only one that can make you feel like this, yeah?”

It was the first confirmation that he knew, that he cared more than you thought he might, about the other man in your life. And though you wanted to tease him, to poke and prod and be a bit of a bitch about it, you could only moan your agreement.

Eddie was good, was more than enough, but there was something about Steve.

“Prove it,” he demanded, voice only just beginning to show his exertion as his hips snapped a little harder. “Come for me, babe. Show me how good I make you feel.”

As was beginning to become a habit, you gave in to him without so much as an attempt otherwise. The press of his fingers to your aching clit, the rough snap of his hips, the warmth of his breath fanning over your sweat slick skin; all of it was too much, just enough, to send you barreling over the edge for a second time.

With a cry of his name, keening and louder than you intended, you came and Steve followed shortly after. You could feel the warmth of his spend, the twitch of his cock, as you settled for a long moment, and felt the tears stinging at the backs of your eyes.

Without so much as a second though, Steve lifted a hand to brush at your cheeks, careful not to press too hard, and swiped away the few that had fallen before he pressed a kiss to your cheek and shot you a teasing wink.

“Love it when you cry for me, babe,” he teased, though you wondered if he’d have the same reaction if he knew the tears were, at least in part, caused by the overwhelming flurry of emotion that had you questioning everything you knew. “Seeing the Ice Queen melt never gets old.”

“You’re such a dick, Stevie.” The huff was as playful as you could manage with your breath still coming in short pants and your stomach churning with emotion but he grinned just the same as he helped you off his lap.

“Think you mean, ‘you have such a great dick, Stevie’.” When you rolled your eyes, straightening out your clothes and attempting to smooth your hair, he laughed. “Oh, c’mon, not gonna say thank you for the incredible orgasms? Your parents raised you better than that, babe.”

“They raised me better than to fuck some rich asshole in the backseat of his car, but, here we are.” Steve followed your lead and began to straighten himself out, zipped his jeans and at least pretended not to stare as you settled your panties back into place, the fabric immediately darkening with his spend. “Speaking of, you should probably get me home, Romeo. It’s past curfew.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. Steve simply tugged you back into his side, hand cradling your jaw as you both attempted to catch your breath.

The lie was obvious - your parents didn’t care very much how late you stayed out, even less when you were with Steve - and you knew that he knew who would be waiting for you to return home. However, you didn’t expect him to ask.

Steve’s touch was soft, though you could see the distaste in the set of his mouth as his fingers brushed the two marks beneath your jaw - one fresh and one fading. “What’re you doin’ with the freak, anyway?” He’d never asked, neither of you made it a habit to pry into the other’s personal life, but he seemed unable to help himself as he continued. “You know you could just buy weed, right? You don’t have to fuck him for it.”

“I don’t smoke,” you reminded him, rolling your eyes even as you leaned into his touch. “Dunno,” you shrugged, avoiding his gaze as your hands worried with the hem of your skirt. “He’s exciting. Well, not really,” you amended because he wasn’t, “but he’s different. He’s just… Eddie. Doesn’t try to be something he’s not.” The slight was unintentional but you caught Steve’s slight wince, even as you barreled on. “And, I mean, it totally pisses off my dad every time he sees Eddie sneaking out because the guy’s a total fucking klutz and can’t leave without waking up half the neighborhood.” Steve scoffed, though you weren’t sure you were meant to hear it as he quickly covered the sound with a clearing of his throat before you added, as an afterthought, “And he listens to me. Not, like, pretends to.”

“I listen to you.”

While it wasn’t a lie - Steve listened, retained whatever you told him - neither of you were ever particularly honest with one another. Your conversations were never as serious as the ones you shared with Eddie, never as deep. For someone you considered your best friend, Steve barely knew anything about the real you. Though, that was as much your fault as it was his.

There was always a fear, deep and unfounded, that he might not like the real you. That if you were honest, that if you allowed him to see you for who you really were, that he might hate you. That he might leave. With Eddie, that didn’t matter very much. He was fun, a distraction, a taste of something forbidden and a glimpse into another life, but he was temporary. He could leave at any time, decide he didn’t like the real you and it might hurt for a moment but you would get over it quick.

With Steve, it was your biggest fear.

Thinking that he might not like the real you, that he might suddenly change his mind and decide the real you wasn’t worth his time, was a fear that felt almost paralyzing. Steve’s opinion mattered, more than anyone else’s, so you held tight to the person you’d always been - the one he’d always at least tolerated - and never breathed so much as a word to the contrary.

Regardless, you humored him. “You do,” you agreed, lifting a hand to brush a strand of hair from his eyes. “But you kinda have to. And you also moaned Nancy’s name the first time we fucked so, like, that sorta cancels out some of the good stuff.” Steve flustered, cheeks flashing neon pink as he recalled the moment - a drunken hookup soon after his breakup, the first of what would become a regular occurrence - but before he could defend himself, you asked, “How’s that going, by the way? You figure out how to get her back from the creep?”

Steve shook his head, then, and sighed as he admitted, “Don’t think I even want to, anymore. Think I was just… She was right, maybe. We were kind of bullshit.”

The resigned misery in his voice was obvious, still upset by the hurtful declaration of a girl you knew he’d loved - in his own way, anyway - and you sighed as you rested your head against the seat cushion. “All of this is bullshit,” you shrugged. “High school, Hawkins, Indiana; none of it means anything.”

“We don’t mean anything?” Despite his best attempt at nonchalance, Steve sounded almost heartbroken - devastated to hear yet another person who meant something to him declare that he meant nothing - and you sighed as you grabbed the hand that rested on your thigh.

“You know I hate sentimentality,” you mumbled, unable to look him in the eye, “but you’re the only thing worth anything in my whole life. You could never be bullshit. Annoying, totally, but not bullshit. Never bullshit.”

There was a brief pause, a moment in which you both felt the weight of you admission pressing on your chests - stealing what little air seemed to remain in the car, windows still fogged and radio still playing too softly to really hear - before Steve swallowed. “You know I…” He cut himself off, paused and seemed to think better of voicing the thought aloud, before he asked, “You know, right?”

‘I love you,’ went unspoken, as it always had. It lingered, just beneath the surface, waiting for one of you to crack the ice and set it free. You knew, just as Steve did, that you were in something like love. Maybe not a love that would last forever, maybe not even a love that was ever meant to be, but it was there.

Warm, shiny and bright, and just waiting for you to stop pretending that things between you had ever been casual.

So, you nodded.

“Yeah,” you assured him, reaching for his hand to squeeze it gently. “I know. Me, too.”

Silence fell, then, thick and suffocating. It filled the interior of his car with a bitter chill and it struck you just how new that feeling was. It made you wonder what a future might be like, if you had one at all, and you found yourself mildly horrified at the idea that you could end up as either set of your parents. There was no world in which you could see a future without Steve at least somewhere in your life but there was no happiness in a world in which you both continued to pretend.

Either way, you were both stuck - caught up in a never-ending performance, an act for an audience that only existed in your minds.

What began as something effortless, something casual, had become so complicated that you no longer felt certain of much beyond the understanding that you loved Steve. How - if you could love the real him, if you only loved the idea of him, if you loved the safety of him - was a question you had no answer to but before you could begin to even fathom it, the moment ended.

Steve pressed a final kiss to your mouth, bruising in a way that made your chest ache and your eyes sting with unshod tears, before he made his way to the driver’s seat.

And then, just as he had every night since he got his license, Steve drove you home. He pulled up to the door to let you out and didn’t mention the van he saw parked down the street. He squeezed your hand before you could step out into the night, three times in rapid succession, and lit a cigarette the moment you stepped out of the car.

King Steve wasn’t one to fall in love easily, neither was the Ice Queen. But Steve Harrington wore his heart on his sleeve and that heart beat for you. Despite the distractions, the desperate attempts at finding something so disconnected from the cushioned prison of his gilded cage, he knew that it had been you all along. And just as neither of you mentioned the real people beneath the personas, neither of you mentioned just how real the love you shared had grown.

Loving one another, allowing yourselves to be vulnerable - to reveal the deepest, darkest secrets - was terrifying. Both of you feared what the other might think of the truth that lay beneath the crown so you agreed, silently, that to pretend was better than to face rejection.

So, Steve drove the few streets that separated your neighborhood from his and let himself into the empty house that meant nothing when his true home was likely sliding open a window to allow the only person he’d ever seen as true competition inside. And he wondered when the love of his life became a casual fling, when you both resigned yourselves to pretending that neither of you deserved something real - something true, something happy. He wondered why he carried on with it, knowing that in a few short weeks you would be in Boston, knee-deep in a life you hated, while he was stuck in Hawkins, wishing he’d had the courage to be himself and that he’d asked for something more than casual.

There was no satisfactory answer, not if he really thought about it, so he decided not to.

The rest of the summer would be spent in the same way the last six months had. Steve would pretend to enjoy the parties and the attention of girls who only wanted him for his reputation. You would continue pretending that nothing fazed you, not even him. And things between you would remain casual.

And he supposed that was just the way it was meant to be.

_________________________________________________

Author's Note: Did you know there's a chance black beans will catch on fire in the microwave? 'Cause I didn't. Anyway. This was my first time writing 'King Steve' and I had so much fun. This was loosely inspired by Chappell Roan's Casual. And my love of both Steve and Eddie. :)

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#stranger things smut #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #steve harrington fic #stranger things fic #v's fics

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husbandohunter · 1 year ago

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Two Shades of the Same Color

Synopsis: Protecting the law and protecting his family. The line seperating them were like two shades of the same color. Wriothesley just didn't know it yet.

Genre: Wriothesley x Reader, gender neutral pronouns, Reader and Wriothesley have a daughter

(A/n): this is my offering to the gacha gods praying for an early Wrio to come home 😔===============================

The Duke of Meropide often finds himself conflicted in the different roles he has to play.

In the daytime he carried his duty as the Warden. Having served his sentence through the years he was in prison, Wriothesley was appointed to be a suitable candidate now managing Fontaine's most notorious Fortress, guarding wanted criminals, convicts, and what justice deems guilty. Both feared and respected by them, it was quite an intresting story how he got into this rank. But he also didn't dislike his occupation. Perhaps due to this self-proclaimed 'rough around the edge' personality, he believed the prison wasn't so far disconnected from his nature.

"Wolf-ears, wolf-ears, daddy has wolf ears!" A sweet voice sang before imitating a growl sound.

Aaand there were those who really disconnected him from his 'nature'. Wriothesley sighs as he rub his forehead, clutching a stack of unsigned papers while the girl pulled the little tuffs in his hair.

Your five year old daughter came home one day, announcing that the class had been given an assignment.

Two things arise in his head. First off, why are they already giving assignments to children? Shouldn't they be learning their alphabets and make crafts or something? Second, why does it have to involve taking your kid to work?!!

You failed to stifle a laughter at the sight, the poor man silently hoping that you would do something, "Come down little one. You wouldn't want to accidentally fall over now, would you?"

The girl shook her head, avoiding your attempt to hold her and squeezed her small legs around his shoulders, "Don't stop me! Mari wants to stay up here."

"But he's going to get tired if you keep shaking like that," you suggested, placing both hands on your hips.

Mari huffs, "That's up for daddy to decide. Right, daddy?"

You quirked an eyebrow and glanced at your husband who seemed to be under a lot of pressure. What can he do? When his daughter stares at him with her toothy grin and gleaming eyes that looks just like his own?

Helpless at her whims, he pleads silently, urging for your aid once again.

"Sorry honey," you shrugged and tilted to the side, "I tried."

"Oh really?," the man doubts, "Then why are you smiling like that?"

Wriothesley wasn't sure how he got into this mess in the beginning. Actually, wait. He did. He just...didn't want to admit it.

The initial answer to Mari's request was a no brainer. Allowing his little babydoll Marigold through the walls of Meropide was something he stricly forbade until she reached thirty years old. A reasonable negotiation, he thought. Not even the gossips plastered all over the Steambird newspaper would be discussed at the dinner table. The man vowed to keep his work life and family life seperate the day she was born.

"Why don't you go find them to help you with your homework?"

"I work at the Fortress too, silly."

Well-- maybe not you since the two of you met here, but that's different. Rules are laws and laws shouldn't be broken. There's a reason why order is meant to be taken seriously in Fontaine. And of course, in his house too.

Then you proceed to say-- it's because you keep spoiling her! Which he retorts, "I'm not spoiling her, I'm just making sure she has a fun childhood, that's all."

"Uh huh, you sure do a great job at it officer, maybe a little too well," you tease, wrapping your arms around your burly husband and nuzzled against his cheek.

Fits of giggles came from above, Mari starts rocking back and forth, "Now give him a biiiiig kiss!"

"Alright alright, that's enough you two," Wriothesley caught hold of his wiggling daughter and settled her down on the floor. Seriously, he could hardly focus. Wriothesley had planned to make his routine as boring as possible so she would leave and he could go about his day. It seems the man terribly underestimated the fact Mari had a penchant of finding entertainment. Should've been obvious that he would be the center of it.

"Can we go downstairs now? I want to see where the machines are working," Mari declares and throws her hands up in excitement.

Wriothesley clears his throat, "What did I say earlier about going downstairs?"

"It's not safe for ages under thirteen and only for members who are given permission because they're criminals," Mari sheepishly repeats.

"Aaaannd?"

"You're not allowed to abuse your authority or give me special treatment because the Warden must be fair and respect the rules from the Fortress of Marinetide, treating everyone equally."

"That's my girl," he nods with a grin. Though the pronounciation can use a little tweaking. Eh, he'll let it slide.

"Don't you think you're exaggerating a bit too much? The working grounds aren't that bad, even Sigewinne takes her strolls there during her breaktime," you chime in.

"Who's Sigewinne?"

The man expresses what seems like his version of a pout. Though you can never miss the small upturn slivering the corner of his mouth, "I'm starting to get the feeling that you enjoy seeing me like this."

"Nonsense," you lean on his shoulder, "I'm just admiring how much of a loving father my daughter has."

They're coaxing me into something, "No means no."

Wriothesley glances at Mari who had still been persisting him with pleads and questions. The reason why he wanted to keep his work life and family life sperate was because prison, in general, can shape a person entirely. Whether for good or worse depends on the individual, she was far too young to be exposed at the kind of stories and complex reasonings people would have. Wriothesley knew very well that nothing is black and white. Perhaps from growing up in this kind of world, he wanted to know, to see, to let an innocent child experience life far differently than he did. Because now, he had a choice.

"I already know what you're thinking, it's written all over your face," breaking him out of his thoughts, you gently spoke to his ear, "Not everyday our little Mari gets to spend time with her father like this. She was so happy when the teacher said it was going to be a 'take your kid to work day' assignment, you know?"

"I'd rather keep the details behind closed doors. There's not much that can be said outside the reputation everyone knows of," he reasons, "Besides, Sigewinne is the only exception because she's the head nurse. This little fellow here can hardly prounouce Meropide."

"Hey! That's not true. If I practice long and hard I can speak as perfectly as the papers on your desk!"

"Oh? You know what that's a great idea. How about we spend the day practicing your alphabets? We could also read the Boar Princess while we're at it," the Duke happily suggested.

"Wriothesley," you chide lightly, "As long as you're with her I'm sure there will be nothing to worry about," then you crouched down to Mari's height, "Right sweetie?"

"Yeah! Daddy is the strongest and smartest man in all of Fontaine!" She jumps up and down, "He can even lift me even when I'm wearing a backpack!"

Wriothesley eyes you both suspiciously, "I see how it is. Sounds like you two are teaming up."

"I like to call it a coincidential agreement," you tugged him at the arm and lead towards the stairwell, "Come on. Take the day off and let me handle the paperwork. Wouldn't want to keep the fun waiting, would you?"

Your husband folds his arms and scoffs, "A day off?"

"By the courtesy of Chief Justice Neuvillette himself," you responded.

Ah, they had it all planned out, "Astounding effort on your part, I suppose."

"Please, daddy? I swear I'll behave and not do anything to make you mad," Mari twiddles her thumbs, "Pleeease?"

Wriothesley closes his eyes, a habit he acquired during situations such as this. Well, looks like he was fighting a losing battle anyways. Maybe you were right. He was spoiling her.

"Fine. Only under one condition. You have to-"

"Call me 'Your Grace'!" She salutes immediately, " Oh, I mean...you, Your Grace."

Wriothesley glances at your way again and you merely returned a shrug. He smiles amusedly.

They really had it all planned out.

•••

When Wriothesley stepped out of his office, he was slowly starting to regret his decision.

Mari, being far too excited for her own good, already bounced a few metres ahead. He sometimes wondered where she gets her energy from. For newcomers, they easily wear out before they become used to things. Ah, that's right, I have to make sure she doesn't disturb the inmates. If this keeps going then who knows where she might end up. Archons forbid it'd be the Pankration Ring.

"Up you go," for now, Wriothesley scoops her into his hold, having the girl seated on one forearm and the other supporting her weight. Until she calms down, at least.

"Mari is reporting for duty," she salutes again.

Wriothesley lets out a chuckle, "Since when did I ever act like a Marechaussee Hunter? Wait, let me guess, you snuck to see Clorinde."

Guilty as charged. The little girl slaps a hand over her mouth, "Whoopsies."

"I'm joking. I actually didn't think you snuck out to see Clorinde," he smugly states, "Well well looks like my little culprit reveals herself."

She huffs, "Heyyy, that's cheating."

"Sorry babydoll, but I think I win this one," Wriothesley boops her nose in a playful manner and allowed Mari to stand on her own two feet, "So, are you ready for a tour around the Fortress of Meropide?"

"Where are we headed first, Your Grace?" She chirped, eyes blown wide like she was on a sugar rush from last time.

Wriothesley raised a scarred brow, "Oh you're letting me decide? In that case you'll just have to wait and see for yourself."

"Yay, I love surprises!"

Even better. This way, he can guarantee that she won't wander off to places she shouldn't be in, no one should be in.

Lunch hour was approaching and the inmates were already finishing up their shifts. He could feel the frequent looks being thrown from the cafeteria, already knowing it will be the hot topic for the next few days or weeks.

Right, then there's this part I have to deal with.

It didn't help that the man's presence alone had the same affect under normal circumstances. Seeing their Warden with a babbling little girl was rather jarring. Mari was...how should he put it, good at stealing the spotlight. So much she easily attracted all the attention from the locals. Wriothesley had never knew someone could be so pestering that it became endearing. Other than you of course. Heh, I guess that's one of many things they have in common.

He doesn't try to hide the smile softening at his features.

"C-Could that be His Grace and..."

Welp, looks like the hot topic is already cooking. Wriothesley pays no mind. There's nothing wrong with being open about his family in front of other people at least. Just because he had a reputation as the Warden to keep doesn't rob him the identity of being a father.

His mind suddenly drifts back to you. Is that why you were so insistent about this earlier?

"Daddy, everyone is looking at us funny."

The word 'daddy' does not escape those around him, percise as a radar and pointed sharply at his direction. Wriothesley expected as much. Actually, he was more surpised she even managed to remember the honorifics for this long, "Ah who cares. Let them do their thing. Anyways, didn't you say you wanted to see how the machines worked?"

A pause before she breaks out into a wide, beaming grin, "Yeah!"

"Then hold on tight," without a warning, Wriothesley lifts her until she was settled on his shoulders and ran as fast as he could, away from the crowd.

•••

"Was that...the Duke just now?"

A confused inmate, still processing at what he just saw, allowed the bitten meal in his hand fall to the plate.

"Who knew His Grace had a soft spot," Another one snickers.

Wolsey who had been tending to the dishes behind the counter exhales exasperatedly, "His Grace ought to be more careful with his actions around others next time."

•••

The shaft doors open to reveal the upper level of the production zone. Wriothesley exits first before gently taking the girl's hand as she shuffled down the two stairs. Thankfully the area had been emptied, except for a few supervisors, it was much more peaceful compared to the cafeteria.

"Wooooahh looks at all those meks!" She ogled. Meks was her way of saying gardemeks. Spending time with a five year old made him more keen to the language innuendos they create, "It's like one gigantic gear working together."

"Not just gears sweetheart, the people here are responsible for making sure ever part of the machine is functioning. Without them, there would be no clockworks you see in the surface," Wriothesley opens a palm while he explains, "I know most of your classmates only think of them as criminals, but criminals have been working for honest income."

"Does that mean the same criminals are now helping to make meks that catches more criminals and keep Fontaine safe?"

The man pauses, thinking for a moment, "You could say that."

"Hmmm," Mari looks down pensively, trying to put two and two together, "So if criminals are honest people, how did they end up in here?"

"Well uhhh... " Wriothesley breathes out quietly. It's complicated. Sometimes he doubts if the word criminal is even a proper label. Becoming a criminal isn't always by choice, some are just born into it, eventually going down a path because there was no where else to go. And the few who escape are the lucky ones, "Ah very tricky, sweetheart. Don't tell me you're here trying to get ideas."

The mischeivious expression he gave her made Mari gasp in disbelief, "I would never break the law daddy!"

"Are you sure?" He insists with jest.

"Yes, and I promised a hundred thousand times already," she emphasized.

Wriothesley pats her lightly on the head. Although his hands were calloused and scared, they carried the weight of a loving father, "Good. I know you'd do the right thing."

From the corner of his eye, he spotted a familiar silouette dressed in pastel colors. Sigewinne had been speaking with Grainville at the Operation and Widget equipment. As you mentioned earlier, the head nurse pays frequent visits to check upon the health conditions of inmates. For the Duke, it was natural that he'd want to know if there was anything he should be concerned about. But now is not the time. He didn't want to drag his daughter when this was meant to be a fun activity of theirs.

"What's that over there?!" She scurries off without a warning, specifically at the direction he was glancing earlier.

Or we can just check it out anyways. Wriothesley thought to himself, using his hands to prop against his knee, standing upright so he could catch up with Mari.

The Melusine was the first to notice, "Your Grace? I'm seeing you everywhere these days. I hope you haven't been swarmed with too much to do."

It's true that Wriothesley had been more present in his timing. The Primordial Sea issue was something he wanted to be resolved as soon as possible, "I'm actually doing just fine, thank you Sigewinne."

"Y-Your Grace. I'm surprised to see you here. Are there any newcomers I must train?" Now it was Grainville's turn to intervene, "Oh, and who's this?"

"Sigewinne?? That's the nurse, daddy?" Mari exclaims, baffled as she compares her height with the other, "Why is she so small like me? Did she get hit by the short disease?"

Jeez. Children can really run around without a filter these days.

"She may be small but a lot more older than she looks," Wriothesley reasons, gentle and firm, "Aren't you forgetting something? In front of you, these people have greeted us the moment we came by. What's the right thing to do, Mari?"

It took some time for her to realize but she perks up as soon as she did. Flustered, the young lass dips herself into a low curtsy, head following suit that her hat fell to the floor, "Good afternoon. My name is Mari. I'm five years old. Nice to meet you all."

Wriothesley maintains a straight face and picks up her hat. On the inside, he could feel his heart squeezing. No matter how many tries you practiced with her, she still doesn't get it quite right. Totally his fault. He never scolds her for it.

"Hello Mari, my name's Sigewinne and I'm the head nurse," the melusine beams, "Though I'm a bit surprised, Your Grace. I thought [Name] said you didn't want to bring your daughter here."

Quick, he had to make an excuse before, "Ah, that's--"

"That's because daddy is awesome and he cares about us so much!"

Urk.

Sigewinne's countenance suggested she caught on that the Warden had a weak spot for his overly coddled daughter, "I see. You're fortunate to have such good parents, Mari. His Grace had put in great effort to ensure the safety and well-being of the Fortress. It's probably why everyone is quite satisfied with living here."

"I know," Mari nods with agreement, "Since daddy does the same thing at home."

Warmth spreads inside his chest and the glaciers of the man's gaze thaws enough for one to notice. Did she truly feel that way? Somehow, for a long time, he didn't think it was enough.

"It's true. His Grace doesn't ostracize anyone and gives them an equal chance of a better life," Grainville added.

Wriothesley crosses his arms and returns a quipped stare, "Indeed. Though I'm afraid flattery will get you as far as none. Best get to work."

Grainville salutes, "Yes, Your Grace!"

"Wait daddy, can I stay and watch?" Mari tugs the hem of his fur coat, "When I go to school tomorrow, I can tell all my friends all the cool things we did today."

He straightens his posture, "No."

"But daddyyyyyyy."

Here we go again. Except this time, the man will avoid all eye contact. Maybe he can try getting earplugs next time, which of course, must be slipped on discreetly so she wouldn't notice. If you were here, he'd be getting an earful of the same conversation he had in the office. Equipment processors can be dangerous to use if something suddenly screws loose. Who knows what might happen?

Though a father can only resist so much and he couldn't ignore her forever. Wriothesley relaxes his shoulders, the crease in his forehead fading, "Are you sure you can be careful?"

"Careful is my middlename!"

"Grainville," Wriothesley commands. Authority drips from his voice that the supervisor nearly flinched from his place, "Check if there's any malfunction in Operations and Widget equipment. I expect a thorough search once I get return from lunch."

Without a moment hesitation, Grainville executes his task as if his life depends on it.

"Daddy, can we go buy some food?" Mari looks up, "I want Fonta!"

"No junk food until you eat properly," though now she mentions it, he is craving a cup of tea by now.

Walking out of the shaft once more, Wriothesley takes another look at the environment surrounding the cafeteria, through a different lens than the last. He recalls his first day. Young, brash, and full of poor judgement. They were not the best memories, but they were certainly memories.

How things have changed. For the better, as it should. To Wriothesley, that was probably the most important aspect of all. He likes seeing signs of strength and hope, reassuring him that tomorrow will be a better day. Though he made peace with the present constantly filling him with doubt. Can the same progress be as steady as he wanted?

He thought about what you said. Then the words he heard from others. The Fortress of Meropide had improved to the point it could function autonomously. On top of that, he received high praise from both surface dwellers and those who lived in the underworld. What drives him to maintain this environment stems from his past. The good and the bad. The mistakes and lessons. The two shades of the same color blurred into one.

"Daddy, I just want to tell you, I had so much fun today. Thank you for bringing me here!"

And if those experiences of his could ensure that his daughter could live a safe and peaceful childhood, then that's everything he can ask for.

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