#i love december shes the best month of the year sorry

[menlove]

at least it's almost december.............

[tieronecrush]

secret santa

dbf!joel miller x f!reader

summary: your parents throw a christmas party every year, and this is your first time in the “adult” secret santa exchange. the last few times home, you’ve found joel, your dad’s friend, staring a bit too long, flicking away when he’s caught. for the game, of course, you get joel’s name. and you’re going to make sure it’s the best gift he’s ever received.

rating: E

wc: 5.6k

warnings: daddy kink, age gap (sorry folks but i did want to try my hand at dbf!joel lol i pictured him around 50, reader around mid-late 20s), alcohol consumption, mentions of food, distant relationship with parents, party, christmas, gift giving, secret santa game, bit of deception on reader's part just to get joel alone, lingerie, body worship, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, restraints (using clothes/undergarments), daddy!joel, soft!dom joel, praise, a few instances of degradation, dirty talk (as always)

a/n: (images in moodboard do not convey what reader looks like, only the vibe! no descriptions of reader) my first dbf!joel…milestone moment lol <3 hope y’all enjoy my take on the dbf trope! and tysm to my babies for beta-ing @northernbluess and @kiwisbell love you both 😚

dividers by @saradika

Twenty years. This same godforsaken party has been happening every December for the last twenty years of your life, full of overserved middle aged parents, and never has it been less enjoyable than since you’ve been an “adult”. An adult still treated as a child, chastised, fawned over, always told to follow the golden rule. No, not treat others as they wish to be treated. Your family’s golden rule was speak only when spoken to.

And your father was the enforcer. Always required you home for the party, even away, out of state for college, away for the semester studying abroad halfway across the world. You were flown home and called upon to do the heavy lifting — groceries, liquor runs, cleaning the house, decorating to make it all feel magically festive.

At times, it felt like Cinderella had nothing on you. At least she had a prince.

The only time that this party has ever been remotely improved was when Joel Miller moved into the neighborhood. He’d snuck in under your radar due to the fact that it happened the few months you were living abroad, but coming back for the party and Christmas break, you were quickly introduced to him by your father. His new “best friend”. One among many. Each serving a unique purpose to get your dad ahead.

Upon meeting Joel, you were drawn to him immediately. Skeptical over the fact he found company with your dad, but much to your surprise, he was different. Maybe lonely and looking for a friend; you’d found he was living alone, his adult daughter, Sarah, in her final years at the University of Chicago — a choice that was hers but Joel admittedly feared, you learned. He only encouraged her, regardless of the fact he was anxious about losing his kiddo.

Not the same sentiments your dad had when dropping you off to school in the farthest, cheapest corner of the country you could find. He was nearly jumping up and kicking his feet together in glee to get you out of the house.

Joel, though, Joel was kind hearted and patient. He was curious and caring, asking you about school, work, your life every time he saw you over the years. Warmth radiated from him despite his more shy demeanor. Comfortable. You felt so comfortable with him.

Which is what made the smallest of lingering glances or the slightest of smiles turned smirks that much more exhilarating.

Maybe you were being naive or projecting your burning desire for him onto every interaction, but as you stitched yourself tighter into Joel’s life over the years, you haven’t been able to help but notice him checking you out at times or slipping a subtle flirty comment into conversations between the two of you. You would give it right back, and that would usually pump the breaks, bringing things back to surface level.

There was one time this past summer, after a neighborhood barbecue that your parents left early from, that you and Joel really had a moment. It was loud, music drowning out the back and forth you were having to the point where you couldn’t quite make out every word, and Joel must have felt the same because he made sure you heard his next words clearly — “Do you want to go somewhere quieter?”

Agreeing immediately, he pressed his large hand into the midpoint of your back, guiding you out of the confines of the party and to the open air of the street. He led you to his place and around back, pulling two lounge chairs next to his pool closer to each other.

That night, thanks to the alcohol buzzing in your system, you confessed more about your home life and your feelings around it. Joel was surprised, given the picture-perfect image your father paints for everyone, but he was comforting as always. Even as far as offering you his spare room if you ever needed a break.

That’s when you knew you were done for. Never in your life had you wanted to just kiss someone that badly. Let alone all of the thoughts that came along with it.

Harboring this crush for your dad’s friend, fifty plus and a father himself, you attempted to keep things growing closer when you came back. Friendly, polite, reciprocating any amount of flirty banter he threw your way. Even initiating it yourself.

You were so incredibly into Joel Miller. And returning home this time, you decided it was high time you acted on those feelings.

The noise of the bustling party dies down enough for your dad to introduce the game, as if the attendees haven’t been participating for nearly as long as you’ve been alive. But your dad loves the attention on him, cracking jokes that make you roll your eyes while everyone else gives him a laugh. Always so focused on himself. How everyone else sees him. Image obsessed enough to forget to assign anyone as a Secret Santa to his own daughter but not forgetting to give her someone to gift to.

Granted, you weren’t that upset about who you’d drawn.

Watching from afar, you see Joel survey the empty space under the tree, only the deep cherry red skirt laid out on the hardwood. Nothing for him. Everyone opens their presents, laughter and excitement bubbling across the room as the point of the game begins. Partygoers start to guess their gifters, hoping to nail down their Secret Santa in one go. Conversations are struck up as people meet their pair, ‘thank you’s exchanged along with the gifts. Joel observes from his spot with a few of your neighbors, also friends with your dad, and the sight of him shifting his weight on his feet is enough to draw up the courage to approach him.

Crossing the room, flashes of him checking you out, lingering in conversations with you about work and your new apartment in the city, seeking you out each time you visit home flood your mind, reassuring your choices the closer you get to him. The closer you get to completely jumping into the deep end, the last few steps teetering you at the edge.

Slowing to a stop next to him, a finger of yours gingerly taps his strong shoulder a few times, pulling his attention away completely. Joel turns his body to face you, away from others to solely focus on you in front of him. The subtle sign of his attraction to you has your nerves tingling, clearing your throat when he speaks up in greeting.

“Hey there, sweetheart. Y’alright?” he asks, eyebrow raised. Always so goddamn sweet.

You sigh, a tinge dramatic but attempting to sell the dismay and toying with the flute glass in your hand. “Lame surprise, but I’m your Secret Santa and I stupidly left your gift upstairs. It’s a bit obnoxious to bring down so d’you mind coming up to open it and you can grab it at the end of the night?”

Joel agrees with a jolt of nervous excitement down his spine. Shuddering out the feeling subtly, he clears his throat and nods, awaiting your lead. He thinks he catches the slightest drag of your eyes up and down his body, lingering at the expanse of his shoulders and the sliver of his chest that is exposed from the two undone buttons of his red flannel.

When no one’s paying attention, you bring Joel upstairs into your old room that you’re staying in while you’re back in town for the holidays. He stands around a bit awkwardly, sticking out like a sore thumb with his broad shoulders stretching his red flannel, thick thighs straining deliciously against the perfectly worn material of his Levi’s. Stark against the frilly softness of your room, with its bright white furnishings, and feminine touches. He’s all man. Nothing like the guys your age who think they’re like him.

Joel glances about the room before he asks, “So, what was so difficult to get under the tree, sweetheart? You didn’t have to get me anything so major.”

“I wanted to. I mean, noticed you eyeing what I got you for a while so figured the least I could do was give it to you…” Joel’s face twists up in confusion, perplexed by the riddled clue before you’re standing in front of him, reaching to the side of your plaid skirt and dragging down the zipper. Joel stutters out nonsense at your actions, lifting his hands in surrender.

“Doll, I think—you don’t—” His mumblings die in his throat when you drop the material to your ankles, revealing red satin panties. When you turn around, a bow sits at the top of your ass, tying up the material to stay on your hips while elasticated bands run along the outline of your cheeks to connect to the crotch. Very little of your bum is covered, showing off the supple flesh to Joel. He’s rendered speechless, averting his gaze after a second too long of staring, the mumblings starting up again.

“S’not a good idea, shouldn’t be up here right now…” Joel looks around, looking over his shoulder toward the door. One of your hands reaches up to gingerly cup his chin, turning his flushed face to yours again. His pupils are blown wide, eyes darkened with desire. Your own gaze flicks down between the two of you, smirking at the bulge growing at the crotch of his jeans. So desperately trying to fight against what he really wants. Even when you’re serving it up in a pretty little package.

He makes no movement toward the door, which you take as a sign of letting go of at least some of his apprehension. Fingers grip the hem of your sweater, pulling it up and over your head, discarding it on your carpet along with your skirt.

Matching red satin material, the bra you’re wearing has a similar structure to your panties. Held up with straps and the usual clasps at the back, the front is a large gift bow, pulled tight when you tied it earlier this evening to push up the flesh of your breasts. One tug at the tail end of both the ribbons, the one at your chest and at your ass, would fully expose you to Joel. Something you’re desperate to propose to him.

“Aren’t you gonna unwrap your present, Joel?” Picking up each of his hands in yours, you guide one to your lower back and one to your chest, coaxing his fingers to wrap around the ends of the bows. “Or do you not like your gift? I thought you wanted this…”

“No, no, no. I like it. I really fucking like it, sweetheart, I just…Everybody’s downstairs and—”

“I can be quiet. I’m a good girl, Joel.”

That flips a switch in him, hearing those words from you. His eyes darken further, pink tongue poking out to wet his lips. A burning stare combs over you, head to toe, alighting flames in your gut that lick against your insides. Heat crawls across the back of your neck, pooling in your collarbone, and craving oozes between your ribs and between each of your vertebrae. Joel’s right hand lifts from his side, skating up the length of your left arm and leaving goosebumps rising in its wake. Fingertips ghost over the strap of your bra, down to the center of your collarbone, and sitting there. That lasts only a second before his long, thick fingers wrap around the base of your throat, raising his loose grip to settle underneath your jaw.

The silence is heavy, airy breaths the only sounds passed between the two of you. His hand at your neck coaxes your head to tip back, staring up at him looking down at you. A flicker to your lips. A low, curious hum. Arousal pools in between your thighs as you wait with bated breath for something, anything to happen.

“You’re dangerous, doll.” His whisper is coated in lust, his gaze greedy as it drinks you in once again.

“I’m a gift,” you correct sweetly, feigning innocence as a smirk grows on your face at his dark chuckle.

“A gift that keeps on giving?” he questions. His hand twists to allow his thumb to find your bottom lip, dragging across its glossy, cherry surface.

“I guess you’ll have to find out…” Your mouth stays open after speaking, tongue slipping out to lick the tip of Joel’s thumb. He presses his finger further, pushing between your lips as you welcome it, sucking gently. Joel sighs, shoulders relaxing while his eyes flash with need.

“Christ…” he hisses under his breath, shaking his head subtly before clearing his throat. Speaking sternly, unwavering, he says, “Can I unwrap my present, babydoll?”

His thumb leaves your mouth with a quiet pop, hand finding its place again at the slack of the bow at your chest, other arm wrapping around to find the bow at your ass. A gentle tug moves the satiny smooth material a few centimeters, not enough to pull it fully undone.

“All yours, Joel. Picked out ‘specially for you.” Joel smirks at your candied reply, eager to give him exactly what he’s been wishing for. What you’ve caught him staring at the last few times you’ve come back home. What you have been wanting for just as long, if not longer.

“Such a sweet girl. Beautiful girl.”

The words send a tingle down your spine, stoking the flames inside of you. Your eyes stay trained on Joel’s face while his fingers draw the bow at your chest undone, the lengths of material hanging at your sides and exposing your breasts. He licks his lips at the sight of your pebbled nipples, rolling out a stifled groan from his chest.

“Fuck, baby…S’pretty.”

Joel’s hands fan across your lower back, holding your hips against his, pressing his bulge into your covered mound. His broad frame folds forward, draping you backwards in his arms as his mouth attaches to your chest. Humid, open-mouthed kisses are littered across your skin, nips taken at the tender flesh of your breasts. Closing his lips around one of your nipples, he sucks strongly, pulling a whimper from your throat.

“Thought you could be quiet, doll?” he rasps, raising an eyebrow as he looks up at you from your sternum.

Nodding furiously, you pout your lower lip out, whispering back, “I can be, I will be. I promise.”

“You promise? Don’t make promises you can’t keep, baby.” Joel stands up straight, pulling you with him to press against his torso. Catching your lips in a deep kiss, Joel breathes a sigh into your mouth, melting his tongue against yours and drinking in the taste of you.

Dripping with saccharine sugar. Coated with syrupy goodness, plump and succulent like a maraschino cherry. A toothache, or maybe even a heartache waiting to happen.

He’s fucking screwed, but damn if it doesn’t feel good as he nails himself to his own persecution from whoever may find out about this.

Handfuls of your undulating curves fill his palms as he kisses you, groaning into your mouth as he grabs at the swell of your ass. Silky satin brushes against his hand, reminding him of the other part of his present to unwrap. Pulling away from your mouth with one last lick of your candied taste, he has the mind to imagine what the rest of your flavors all across your body might be.

Joel turns you in his arms, back flush to his chest as he grinds his bulge against the lustrous fabric, smirking to himself as you whimper quietly, so hushed he can barely hear it over his heartbeat thudding in his ears. Lips coast over the shell of your ear, nibbling your lobe before pressing a kiss right below.

“Can I undo your other pretty bow, babygirl? Unwrap the rest of my present?” Joel nips again when you breathe out consent. He walks you closer to the bed, hitting your knees against the frame before he takes one step back, touch still lingering on your skin. From behind you, he sighs appreciatively as he drinks in your form, licking his lips as his eyes devour you.

Pinching the ribbon between his thick fingers, he flicks it against your skin, satisfied with the way you react with goosebumps raised. One gentle tug unravels it all, exposing your cheeks to him fully and with the drop of the material from between his fingertips, your panties fall to the floor. One hand wrapping around your thigh, Joel coaxes you to step out to the side with it, kicking the fabric from your ankle.

He kneels behind you, pressing his lips against the swell of your ass. Flooded with the scent of your skin, vanilla and cinnamon, the smell of Christmas. Nose smashed into the supple flesh, teeth sinking into the curve, a gentle bite stealing another taste of you. A curse is mumbled against you, a sweet kiss pressed on the tiny birthmark on your ass, tongue tracing into the fading bite mark.

“Joel…” you whine above him, hand reaching back and nimble fingers tangling into his messy, gray curls.

“I know, doll. Got lost there for a second. You’re so perfect…”

He sighs again, standing up with a quiet crack in his joints. A blatant reminder of the difference between you two. Young versus old. Sprightly versus verging on doddering. Even if he is eager, there’s no denying the difference.

There’s no doubt in your mind that Joel’s about to be more of a gift to you than you are to him. The way he’s touching you, delicate worship before he’s even gotten to what he truly wants, taking his time despite the pressure of the party downstairs. Serves as a reassurance that he wants this as much as you do, wants to take his sweet time if this is going to be his only chance.

You pray to god it isn’t. Even before you’ve even laid eyes on his cock, you just know. He’s going to fuck you senseless. Ruin every other man for you.

In a blur, he guides you to fall forward onto the mattress, hooking fingers to remove your panties from your other ankle while you scoot toward the center. He finds solace between your legs, propping your hips up into a kneeling position to give him easier leverage. 

“Think this might be my favorite present I’ve been given, doll. So fucking gorgeous. Looking delectable…Can I have a taste, darling? You as sweet as you seem?”

Your head is turned sideways, laying against the plush comforter, opening your mouth to whisper to him in the same moment he swipes his tongue through your folds, groaning into your inner thigh before he dives back in, working to devour you like a man starved, quenching his thirst on your arousal. Flicking his tongue against your pearl, coated in your translucence, suckling at it with pure need. Turning to press the front of your face into your bedding, it muffles your moans and whines, raising in pitch as he fucks your tight cunt with his strong tongue, lapping at you with the same fervor he’d lick the color from a candy cane.

“Fuck, Joel, fuck fuck fuck!” you shout in a scouring voice, scratching your vocal chords together with a strain. Curling your fingers into the softened, washed fabric, you gasp when one of his solid fingers slips into your walls. He groans, holding back his louder reaction to your gripping walls, hypnotized by the way you even stretch around his fingers when he adds another.

Head against your thigh, he studies the way you take his middle and ring fingers, the velvety slick of your pussy, and the spongy spot he finds, curling his digits to press into it and watch you squirm helplessly from the sensitive pleasure.

“Talkin’ all well mannered and pretty. So quiet and polite all the time. With your ‘yes’sir’s and ‘please’s and ‘thank you’s. You think about saying those to me while you’re under me like this?”

“Yes, yes’sir. All the fucking time. Every time I—I looked at you, felt myself…felt myself gettin’ so fucking wet. Was always dripping around you, waiting for something to happen. For you to take me so I can be a good girl for you, sir,” you confess, obedience and need sitting every word so prettily into his ears. “M’so—Fuck m’gonna come, Joel.”

He nods slowly, taking last looks at your cunt before he moves his fingers in and out quicker, dipping his chin down for his mouth to find your clit against, lapping at your dripping wetness and sucking hard. At the next press of his fingers against that spot inside of you, your vision grows blurred, white haze painting everything with a dreamlike filter. You bite into the linen fabric of your comforter, gagging yourself to keep quiet as you come, digging the balls of your feet to the mattress to push yourself away from Joel who continues to work you through it. He grabs at you, tugging you back to get his fill until you sob, overstimulation drawing tears up to the corners of your eyes.

“All kept and composed and ladylike. Been taught to behave, haven’t you? Bet you fucking love to be such a little slut. Anybody ever let you? Such a dirty girl, aren’t you, babydoll?” Joel’s voice sounds distanced at first, senses falling back into place in your body as you come down completely. His work-worn hands coast over your body, roughening against your soft skin like sandpaper moving with the grain. Little resistance but catching in places it favors.

“Just—Just for you, Daddy.” It slips out smoothly from your mouth, the weight of the title heavy against your tongue in the same way you imagine his cock would feel. Filling. Satisfying.

Joel rises slowly from where he’s bent behind you, letting one leg fall behind him as he stands, the other propped on the bed. His eyes narrow in on yours, lips parted and tongue darting out as he replays what you said.

Daddy.

First, you’re already on his mind and years younger, yet he couldn’t stop picturing you in this exact position. Next, you’re the one to make the first move, dragging him away from this Christmas party and presenting him with a Secret Santa gift that feels way out of the budget. You’re priceless. And now, you’re laid out for him, already nearly at the level of fucked out from him only using his mouth and fingers, and you’re fucking calling him Daddy.

Best Christmas of his goddamn life.

“Now, darlin’, were you saving that to be the cherry on top of the cake? ‘Cause that’s just about the sweetest thing. My pretty lil’ babydoll saying she’s Daddy’s dirty girl,” he scoffs in disbelief, shaking his head while his fingers work his button open on his jeans, dragging the zipper down against his throbbing bulge. “Gonna have to be quiet, yeah? Gotta keep your sweet mouth closed while Daddy fucks you, doll.”

“I’ll be quiet, promise. Please, Daddy.” Your pleas widen Joel’s smirk, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips once again. He pushes his denim down with his cotton boxers in their wake, sighing softly when his hard cock is fully freed. His tip is aching and red, leaking precum and leaving a wet spot on his underwear. With one hand, he starts to slowly stroke himself, holding in a moan enough that it leaves his lips as a soft exhale.

“Good girl…” he mumbles, studying your form. “Move back toward me, babygirl. Hands behind your back.”

Complying with his direction, you inch back until Joel places a hand on your lower back. At that, you lay forward again, the side of your face pressing against the duvet as Joel steps back from the bed and searches the floor. A dribble of drool drips from the corner of your lips as you watch him, one large hand around his cock, spreading his precum along his length. Part of you has the mind to beg for him in your mouth, to completely disregard the need pulsating your cunt at the moment, and to feel his warm spend coating your throat as he finishes fucking it.

But you’re fucking selfish. This is also a gift for you, so win-win.

Pressing your wrists together at your lower back, you observe as Joel locates what he is looking for, standing up with a devilish smirk. Your panties.

He towers over you again when he steps back to you, one hand coasting over the curve of your ass, a gentle smack delivered that makes a quiet yelp escape from your lips. The same hand skims back up your skin, easily grabbing both of your wrists in his long fingers and holding them closer while he slips the silky material behind. In a quick motion, he has your arms tied together with a bow, a content smile on his face as he makes eye contact with you.

“Wrapped all up again, babydoll. Such a pretty gift for me.”

“Well you’ve got a pretty package, Daddy,” you reply with a mischievous giggle, earning a breathy chuckle from Joel behind you. He grips the knot of your makeshift restraint, tugging taut to arch your back and pull your hips closer. His other hand wraps around the base of himself, dragging the head of him through your drenched folds, circling your clit, and chuckling again at the jump of your thighs.

“Please, Daddy, I need—” you start pleading, muffled into linen before you’re cut off by the stretch of Joel’s cock filling your tight hole, a gasp escaping your lungs with a punch. Your mouth is stuffed with the duvet from your bite down, nursing your tongue against the material as he slowly presses into you, inch by inch. There’s an ever-so-slight pain candy-coating the pleasure, melting away to get to the gooey, oozing center that spreads over your entire body.

Pausing when he reaches the hilt of himself, Joel sighs, rolling his head back as he internally thanks whatever Christmas magic must be out there for this moment.

“So fucking tight, baby.” 

Your dampened whine shoots a wave of intense need throughout him, growling low as he holds your restraint tighter, dragging his hips back before he starts a punishing pace. Control escapes him, desire taking over his actions as he starts to properly fuck you. His cock teaching you how to take every single inch of it.

Messes of his name and your moans are stifled and stuttered into the comforter gagging you, chest hovering over the mattress as Joel holds tight to the knot in your panties.

“Can’t hold back any longer, baby, jus’—fuck—jus’ gonna take Daddy’s cock like a good girl, aren’t ya?” The only precision remains in the soft cracks of skin on skin, not loud enough to draw any attention from the party downstairs. Poppy carols play faintly in the background, the only other soundtrack being the vulgar mumbles slipping from Joel’s lips.

Drawing you closer and closer, the edge is tasted on your tongue, so close but barely in reach as the man behind you rocks his hips, the tip of his hard cock brushing that same spongy spot inside of you that he managed to reach with his fingers, bruising into your cervix with each snap.

At the next drag-out, Joel pulls away from you completely. When you whine with protest, he’s tugging you to stand up on your knees, whispering in your ear amid his quick movements, “Need to see your face when I make you come all over my cock…”

Before you can be left with any thoughts to a response, he’s flipping you onto your back, hands tied still, and tugging you near again. He steals a pillow from the top of your bed, shoving it under your hips to lift your pelvis, gifting himself the perfect angle to thrust into you again from the height he stands at.

The new angle punches out moans from your chest, Joel’s name littering the empty room as you try so hard to remain quiet.

“Shh, I know, doll, I know. Feels so fucking good, doesn’t it? Y’love bein’ Daddy’s little slut.” Nodding furiously, another louder moan leaves your mouth, brows knit together with worry as you hurtle closer and closer to the edge.

A large palm moves to cover your mouth, shaking his head slowly to remind you of your promise to be his good girl, his quiet girl. 

“Pleasepleaseplease, Daddy…” He feels the vibrations of your voice against his hand, the words muddled into slight nonsense from pleasure clouding your brain. Joel holds onto one of your legs, pulling it up to hook onto his shoulder and press forward to get deeper inside of you. The switch has you screaming into his palm, eyes squeezing shut as you squirm under him.

“Eyes on me, babygirl. Keep your eyes on Daddy.”

Joel’s hips pound into you, chasing his own climax. Your eyes snap open at his instruction, mouthing at his hand and moaning loudly behind it, nodding your head furiously. Your tight walls squeeze around his hard cock, his grunts held back to keep quiet despite the noise of the party downstairs growing in volume.

“Come on, doll. Come on my cock…Fuck, you gonna let Daddy fill up your pretty little cunt?” The quick, speechless nods answers his question, both of you toeing the edge.

There’s a moment when both of you seize up, muscles tense and eyes burning into each other’s. It only lasts a split second before it explodes with a pop, at the same second a champagne bottle pops downstairs. Joel breathes out your name, over and over, mingling with your whimpers of his name and Daddy switching back and forth in your mind. Interchangeable to you.

Pleasure fizzes over your bodies like bubbles in the flutes being filled, the bubbling aerations trickling up up up to your head, making you feel lighter than air as pure bliss overwhelms you. Tingles aftershock across your nerves, a shiver sent down your spine as Joel pulls out.

Quietly, he groans as he watches his excess spend drip out of you, mixing with your come and glistening against your folds. One thick finger swipes at the spot, pushing the swirl of you back inside of your walls.

A soft whimper slips from your lips and Joel’s eyes meet yours in a flash, a gentle smile stretching across your face. He coaxes you to sit up and unties your hands behind your back, slowly massaging your wrists with his thumbs and kissing where the skin rubbed against the fabric. The tender touches accompany the soothing, comfortable silence.

Redressing you, Joel attempts to tie the bows of your bra and panties, huffing softly in frustration. You giggle when he’s working on your bra, taking his chin gingerly between your fingers and turning his head to look at you. Leaning in, his lips catch yours in a sweet, sugary gumdrop kiss. 

It’s another moment before both of you are fully dressed again. You study yourself in the mirror above your dresser, smoothing your hair down. Joel steps up behind you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and kissing your shoulder through the knit sweater. He turns you around to face him again, grinning shyly as his eyes comb over your face.

The two of you share another kiss, his calloused hand cradling your cheek when he pulls away.

“You gonna be under my tree again on Christmas day, doll?”

“Depends…Were you naughty or nice this year?” you counter, earning a quiet laugh from Joel as he shakes his head.

“Think what just happened has put me on the naughty list for a long time, babygirl. And you, too.” He shoots you a cheeky wink and you laugh, shaking your head as you lock your fingers together in front of you.

“I did actually get you something though…” you admit shyly, rocking back and forth on the heels of your feet.

Joel grins, eyes flicking down to your anxious hands. His thumb brushes against the skin of your cheek, eyes meeting yours again as he replies, “You have another gift for me? Didn’t need to do that, doll.”

“I mean…Kinda needed a backup plan if this whole thing didn’t work out.” A chuckle is shared between both of you before you continue, “Sorry for spoiling the whole guessing game of Secret Santa.”

“Darlin’, you could spoil any games for me if it ends up with this kinda surprise.” Joel smirks before stealing another quick kiss, pulling away when you step back to fish out the small, meticulously wrapped giftbox from the top right drawer of your dresser.

Handing over the square package, Joel’s eyes glitter with boyish excitement. The corner of his mouth pulls up to one side while his thick fingers slip under the creases of the paper to rip the tape, undoing the festive wrapping to reveal the lidded giftbox that he opens quickly. Inside, Joel studies the contents. Small triangles with rounded corners made from thin nylon plastic. A deep emerald green, all sitting like precious gemstones. His initials are branded into one side with gold paint, the flip side emblemed with the silhouette of an owl.

“Sweetheart…Thank you. These are real nice…” he speaks softly while he picks one up between his index and thumb, turning it between the tips of his fingers. “They’re perfect. Gonna be sad if I end up losing one of these like all my other picks.”

You smile sweetly, stepping closer again and resting your hands on his biceps, “Guess you’ll have to take good care of ‘em.”

As he looks at you, he mirrors your smile, sharing one more gentle kiss before whispering against your lips, “Can think of another something I have to take good care of.”

taglist: @atinylittlepain @swiftispunk @joelsversion @mrsmando @ilovepedro @lovers-liability @deathwife @undrthelights @atticrissfinch @casa-boiardi @wannab-urs @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @fishingforpike @msjarvis @walkintotheriveranddisappear @sugadolly @yazsos @peppesgirl @pastawench @addictedtotlou @brittmb115 @anoverwhelmingdin @spishsstuff @wolfbook87 @mswarriorbabe80 @harriedandharassed @decemberdolly @laiisleitte @fierce-bab @vickie5446 @pertinentpostmortem @livingdeadmaria @sullyosully @bitchwitch1981 @its-nebuleuse @marini03 @piercethevic03 @joeandpedrosimp @planet-marz1 @txtattoostark @jrosie25 @thereaperisabitch @tbniarq @vee-bees-blog @spidermanfrog @belliezz @joelsflannel @cartoon-garbage04 @bianqueee04 @nostalxgic @xyzstar @cumberpegg @b00klvrs @burningnerdchild

[lnfours]

tis the damn season | l.n

summary: happy december! you know what that means, time for holiday parties with rich families and a run in with a certain someone.

warnings: ex bf!lando, rich kid!female!reader, a bit of second chance romance, light drinking, language, a little bit of awkwardness but mostly not so secret pining after not seeing each other for so long, fluff (this is kinda bad and not proofread so enter at ur own risk)

masterlist | ask box | listen

⋆꙳•❅*• •*❆ ₊⋆

it was finally time for the annual holiday party your family threw every year, or the ‘event of the year’ as everyone else called it. the christmas tree was up in the foyer, the smell of gingerbread and snickerdoodles lingering around from the cookies your mom had picked up from the bakery down town.

plenty of people had already arrived when you descended down the stairs, smiling as you passed by familiar faces, unsure on names to say hello to them. you locked eyes with your mother, who smiled and waved you over.

“y/n! there you are! come say hi!”

you said polite ‘excuse me’s to the people blocking your path before you joined your mother at her side. your heart slightly dropped at the familiar faces of who your mother was talking to, but you put on your best fake smile.

“y/n, love! how’re you?!” cisca smiled, pulling you into a short hug. you hugged her back and nodded.

“i’m good,” you gave the man next to her, her husband adam, a quick hug as he pulled you in also, “how’re you guys?”

“we’re good, flo and lando are around here somewhere,” she smiled, “unfortunately oliver and savannah couldn’t make it.”

you nodded, “well, i’ll be sure to find them and say hi. say hi to oliver and savannah for me.”

“we will!”

you bid a ‘see you soon’ to the three, making your way back to the party, making sure to grab a glass of champagne from one of the waiters walking around the house. it didn’t take long for a squeal to catch your attention, the girl walking quickly towards you. you laughed as she pulled you into a hug.

“y/n! it’s been so long!” flo squealed happily, smile still bright as she pulled away from you, “how’re you?! how’s university? any cute boys?”

you smiled, eyes traveling to the brunette who was approaching flo, a smile on his face as he politely pushed through the crowd. your brain didn’t even fully register what she had asked you, your eyes meeting his.

he had gotten prettier since the last time you saw him, his hair curlier and fluffier and he had started growing his facial hair. he was dressed in a suit, one that made him look way too good for your liking.

you raised your eyebrows, attention fixing back to the girl in front of you who wore a smile, a knowing one at that, “good! how’re things with you?”

“flo, i thought we were sticking together-“

his sentence was cut off as he finally approached the two of you. his eyes on you, the way your hair was falling and the dress you wore and how the straps hung loosely off your shoulders, the way it was designed to do.

“sorry,” his sister mumbled back to him, “look who i found!”

lando didn’t tear his eyes from yours, “yeah, uhm, hi..?”

his greeting hung in the air like a question and you smiled softly, sending him a tight lipped smile, “hey,”

the younger girl looked back and forth between her brother and the girl she knew he had been in love with since you were kids. of course, she knew about the breakup that had occurred a few months back, but she was determined that the two of you were soulmates.

and it was time for her to work her magic, turning to her older brother, “i’ll leave you two to catch up, gonna go find mum.”

lando opened his mouth to speak but closed it when he watched her quickly split from the pair. you chuckled softly, taking a sip from your glass, watching him nervously scratch the back of his neck.

“so, um-“

“how’re you?”

the two of you had started at the same time, stopping when you realized you were talking over each other. you both let out a soft laugh.

“you first,” he said.

you breathed in, “so, how’re you?”

he nodded, “good, good. how’re you? your mum said you should be done with university soon?”

you nodded, “yeah, hopefully this is my last semester. uhm, how’s racing? saw you got a couple podiums recently.”

“yeah, no, it’s been good,” he said, “obviously, we’re on holiday right now so just trying to figure out what to do with my free time.”

you nodded, “i’m sure you’ll figure something out, or max will,”

he chuckled, “yeah, i suppose you’re right,” his eyes looked over you again, “you look good. gorgeous, actually.”

you could tell he was nervous and you felt your stomach turn into knots as you looked down to the floor to hide the way your cheeks were reddening.

“thanks,” you said, “you do too. see you can finally grow facial hair.”

you both let out giggles as he rolled his eyes playfully, “alright,”

“well done, truly,” you teased again as the two of you continued laughing. he shook his head, his hands stuffed into his pockets.

you had forgotten how it felt to have him around. how giddy he made you and how he made you feel, and now it was coming back in waves. you weren’t sure if it was because it was the first time seeing him since the breakup or if it was because it was him.

the night progressed and he told you stories about how it had been for him traveling the world and you told him stories about your professors at university.

“wanna get some air?” you asked, thumb pointing to the door to the balcony outside. he nodded, following your lead as you led the two of you through the crowd. once out on the balcony, you leaned against the cement wall as he closed the door.

you looked out to the darkness contrasted against the bright christmas lights lighting up the neighborhood. he joined you, resting his arms against the cement, subtly looking over at you through his peripheral vision.

he didn’t miss the way you shivered, the cold air making your skin cold. he looked over at you now, “‘re you cold?”

you shook your head, “nah, i’m okay-“

“no, i know you hate the cold,” he said, shrugging off the jacket to his suit, you standing up straight now as he motioned for you to step closer. he wrapped the jacket around your shoulders, engulfing you with his cologne and the warmth from his body. your eyes met his again and you looked up at him with a soft smile, “warm?”

you nodded, “thank you,”

“‘course.” he said.

the silence fell between the two of you again before he broke it, “do you, uhm, ever think about… us?”

you looked back over at the boy next to you, “‘us’?”

he nodded, “yeah, like why we ended? y’know, things like that,”

you let out a breath, “i do, yeah,” you said, “do you?”

he licked his lips nervously, looking back at the lights, “all the time.”

you gave him a soft expression as he turned back to you, “lando,”

“no, i know,” he said, leaning back up as he huffed softly, “i just, i don’t know. i don’t know why we ended things, why i let you get away, y’know? i mean, you were it for me for my whole life, and i fucked it up.”

you shook your head, “no you didn’t,”

“well, i didn’t try,” he said, looking back at you now with a guilty expression, “you deserved better than that.”

“i mean, you were it for me too,” you confessed, “you still are.”

his expression changed, stepping a bit closer to you, “i’m sorry-“

“don’t, it’s okay,” you said, “you’re a busy man.”

“i should’ve made more time for you.”

you shook your head, “i didn’t really make an effort either, it’s okay.”

he reached out nervously, tucking a strand of hair from your face to behind your ear. you leaned into his warm touch, your cheek cold from the soft wind blowing in the winter air.

“can i get a redo?”

you smiled, “only if i do too.”

he chuckled, “you can have anything you want.”

you raised an eyebrow, “anything?”

he hummed, “anything, i mean it.”

you smiled, “if that’s the case, then i want you.”

his smile was contagious, a soft chuckle pushing past his lips before he responded, “i suppose i can make that work.”

you laughed, reaching and slipping his hand into yours. he squeezed it lightly, just like he used to. you leaned into him, his hand that you weren’t holding onto moving to pull you closer to him by your waist. you stood there for a minute, your head resting against his chest as you listened to the fast beat of his heart.

you moved your head, looking up at him as he smiled down at you, letting go of your hand to cup your cheek again, thumb brushing against the skin gently before you spoke, “can we go inside?”

“god, yes please,” he breathed, “it’s fucking freezing.”

you chuckled, leaning away from him, “you could’ve had your jacket back.”

he shook his head, “‘s alright.”

as he went to open the door for you, he spotted the familiar little flower hanging from the doorway. you noticed his pause, looking to where his line of vision was going.

“mistletoe.” you laughed softly.

he smiled, pulling you over to him, “c’mere,”

you joined him under the doorway, the plant hanging above both your heads as he leaned down, his hand back on your cheek. his lips brushed against yours as the two of you breathed.

“are you going to kiss me or not?” you smiled.

he shook his head playfully, “now i’m really thinking against it.”

“just shut up,” you mumbled, pulling him down to your level by his shirt as you collided your lips together. his kisses were exactly how you remembered them, soft and full of every emotion he could possibly squeeze into them. his hand on your cheek as the other found its home on your hip. your hands wrapped around his neck, nails tangling into the curls at the nape of his neck.

you both pulled away, giggling softly as you matched each others smile.

“merry christmas, lando.”

he nudged his nose with yours, leaning in for another kiss after, “merry christmas, y/n.”

[rhettabbotts]

dreaming of a white christmas - rhett abbott x reader

pairing: rhett abbott x wife!reader

summary: in which christmas miracles still happen.

warnings: 18+ only. fluff. soft sex. oral (f receiving). christmas cheer. rhett’s the best husband. rhett walking around naked.

a/n: this is my submission for @lewmagoo’s christmas celebration! i’m so sorry it’s late my love but i hope you enjoy this little fic! and happy holidays to everyone! i hope it’s a good one 🩵.

“We’re looking at a warm and sunny Christmas day. No signs of accumulation over the next week.”

Weatherman Todd Carter crushed all of your dreams in one sentence. Every year since you could remember, there had been inches upon inches of snow throughout the month of December. This year was a little disappointing, but you had been holding out hope for Christmas.

That was your favorite thing about this time of year. The white snow covering the mountains like a blanket. The serene and beautiful landscape always made you feel like a child again.

The early mornings, bundled up from head to toe in snow gear heading out to feed the animals. The anticipation of Santa coming to visit as you baked cookies with your mother. It all reminded you of a happier time. And now thanks to Todd, you weren’t going to have that feeling this year.

Rhett came in that evening and could tell you were upset. It was your second Christmas in your new home and the place was decorated from floor to ceiling. He always said it looked like an elf threw up. You thought it was just enough, but you kept adding more every time you came back from the store.

“Hey, honey,” Rhett greeted you, planting a wet kiss to your cheek. “What’s the frown for?”

“Stupid Todd,” you mumbled as you stirred the cake batter for the chocolate cake you were baking.

“Todd? Who the hell-“

“The weatherman on Channel 7! He said there wasn’t gonna be any snow on Christmas!” You sounded like a spoiled child whining about not getting a toy. The corner of Rhett’s mouth quirked up. “It’s not funny. It’s depressing. We’ve always had a white Christmas.”

“Sweetheart, just because there’s not gonna be any snow doesn’t mean it’s going to be any less perfect. You’ll make sure of that,” Rhett swiped a finger in the cocoa mixture, licking it clean with a shit-eating grin on his face. “Good cake by the way.”

“It’ll be even better if you stop trying to give yourself salmonella,” you swatted at him to get out of the kitchen.

Rhett waltzed out of the kitchen with an extra swing in his step, his tight Wranglers leaving nothing to imagine. It was your favorite pair and he knew it. As he showered and cleaned up, you finished baking your cake. You even threw in a batch of cookies for the hell of it, trying to ignore Rhett’s voice saying in your head “stress baking.”

The holidays were such a wonderful time, but after you and Rhett had married it had become exhausting. Trying to find time for both families and leaving each place more overwhelmed than when you arrived was enough for you to decide to spend Christmas with each other this year.

The repeated questions of “when are you having kids? when are you going to move back to the ranch? why don’t you move closer to us?” wore you down to the point you nearly broke.

You wanted a family but children weren’t on the table at the moment. You and Rhett wanted to travel. See the world. Get out of the little small town you both grew up in.

A strong pair of arms wrapping around your middle snapped you from your thoughts, a scratchy jaw tickled your neck as feather light kisses were placed to your pulse point.

“I know that look. You’re thinkin’ too much again,” Rhett mumbled against your skin.

“Just thinking about you. About us,” you replied, swaying in his embrace.

“I can’t believe it’s our second Christmas. And it’s just us this year. Thank god,” Rhett muttered the last words. He couldn’t stand your aunt Susie. She was touchy.

Rhett continued placing soft kisses on your neck, causing you to moan quietly and lean your head back against his chest. You could feel him smirk. Smug bastard.

“You know… that fire I’ve got going looks real cozy…”

“What are you hinting at?”

“I’m saying I want to eat my wife out by the fire on Christmas Eve so she’ll stop pouting about no snow,” Rhett said bluntly, tightening his hold on you.

And he did just that. He laid out the softest blanket you had on the floor, laid you on your back and threw your legs over his shoulder. His tongue made slow figure eight movements from your clit to your pulsating entrance.

Your knuckles were white from the grip on his long locks, tugging harshly when his lips suctioned on your bud.

“Rhett- fuck- oh Go-God!” You stammered, hips bucking against his face.

He didn’t stop until your thighs were quaking and your juices covered his chin. He made a point to make dramatic slurping noises as he was pulling away.

“That’s it. I don’t need to open a single present tomorrow,” Rhett said as he placed his head on your lower stomach, kneading your thighs gently to stop them from shaking.

“Oh no. You’re opening those presents, mister. I have kept them a secret long enough.”

“I love you, baby.”

“Please fuck me now,” you pouted, practically pawing at him.

“Greedy little thing,” he teased.

So you made love all night by the fire, eventually falling asleep in your husband’s arms and dreaming of a snow white covered yard with two little girls running after Rhett.

The early morning sun shined brightly through the living room window, much brighter than it typically did. You blinked slowly, holding back a giggle at the sound of Rhett’s snoring. You knew he’d be complaining about his back later.

Wrapping an extra blanket around yourself, you made your way to the kitchen to start the coffee, not even bothering to look outside. You didn’t want to be disappointed.

As your cup finished brewing, you stood at the kitchen sink and nearly dropped the mug as you looked outside and saw nearly six inches of snow piled up out front.

You shrieked and caused Rhett to jump awake. He didn’t grab the blanket and stood in the middle of your living room stark naked.

“Where’s the fire?”

“THERE’S SNOW. A WHITE CHRISTMAS,” You exclaimed loudly, wrapping the blanket around you tighter and throwing the front door open. You were greeted with a bitter chill, one that went to the bone and brought a wide smile to your face.

It soon became too much and you hurried inside, Rhett still walking around without clothes on which didn’t surprise you.

“So Todd lied, huh?” Rhett joked as he sipped on your abandoned coffee.

“I could cry right now. A white Christmas. My favorite,” you whispered, grinning to yourself.

“Darlin’, I pray every Christmas will be white just so I can see this joy on your face every time,” Rhett said as he shimmied his way towards you.

“Go put some clothes on. I’ll start breakfast and then we’re doing presents.”

“Yes ma’am,” Rhett winked, yelping when you smack his ass as he walked away.

You spent the day with just the two of you, both laughing and crying at the different presents you got each other. You watched many Christmas movies while you snacked on the lunch you fixed and watched the snow as you drank hot cocoa. You saved White Christmas for last and you couldn’t stop yourself from shedding a tear as Bing Crosby crooned “may your days be merry and bright. and may all your Christmases be white.”

[almostgenerallyalways]

mamas (don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys)

Pairing: Jake Seresin x fem!reader Category: angst / fluff / run-on sentences Word count: 3,1k CW: language, I’ve been to Texas once okay forgive me, divorce Author’s note: this was supposed to be a holiday fic but I got stuck on it and almost abandoned it, but here it is rescued from my drafts, shoutout to all the amazing tgm fic writers your writing truly astounds me

Summary: Every year around the holidays, you hear from your ex. This year when you don’t respond, he decides to show up at your door. 

2022

Jake UT  [November 23, 2022 at 10:24 PM]

Hey stranger

Visiting my mom for Thanksgiving

How’ve you been?

You ignore the message. How you’ve been in the last twelve months is not something you feel up to discussing with him.

You spend the next weeks dealing with crisis after crisis at work, leaning into the chaos like you have been all year. Your personal life? Garbage fire. Reconfiguring your entire pump setup two weeks before going to production, because the DoC slapped an import ban on one of your key suppliers in China? You’re on top of it.

But then, the week before Christmas, another message comes in:

Jake UT  [December 17th, 2022 at 3:47 PM]

Hey

In town for the holidays

Would love to see you if you’re free

Brett welcome too, of course

A pang in your chest, but curiosity gets the better of you, so you text back:

Thanksgiving and Christmas? Judy must be thrilled.

You’ve met Jake’s mom all of one time, ten years ago, but she made a lasting impression. Fiercely protective of her only son, she’d been wary of you at first (you were, in order of importance: Too non-Texan, too vegetarian, and too focused on trying to rescue an almost-due group project for your sustainable water management class in which no one was pulling their weight).

And yet, over the Thanksgiving weekend you’d spent at Jake’s mother’s house in Colton, she’d slowly warmed up to you. You’d asked her endless questions about her job as a project manager at Austin-Bergstrom, and she’d poured you half glasses of wine (still exotic, to you, back then) at the kitchen island, shooing Jake back into the living room.

She’d even called you, after you guys broke up, to say she was sorry to hear it, and to tell you to call her up any time you needed someone to talk to. You’d tried your best to keep your voice even, not to break down in tears for the seventh time that day, and never called her again.

* * *

“Dude. Put your phone away for two minutes.”

Jake looks up apologetically at his friend, and pockets the device. “Sorry. Just expecting a text.”

Sandeep holds out his bottle of Lone Star, and Jake clinks it with his own. “It’s good to see you, man. Sorry I wasn’t around at Thanksgiving, we were visiting Jed’s family in NC. I didn’t expect you to be back so soon.”

Jake takes a swig of his beer, the cold liquid feeling like a balm to his throat. “Yeah, well. It’s been a big year, work-wise, so they owed me one. I wanted to spend some extra time with my mom.”

Bringing up his drink to toast again, Sandeep says: “Here’s to you, bud. And to getting that permanent assignment in California. At least we knew where to send our holiday card this year.”

Condensation drips down the neck of his bottle, and Jake spins it slowly in his hand, stopping himself from peeling off the label. He feels on edge, unmoored, despite this 6th Street dive bar being as familiar to him as the back of his own hand.

Sandeep’s got his number. “Seeing anyone else while you’re in town? I don’t know, Myers?”

Jake doesn’t look up, but feels his cheeks heat up fractionally.

His friend takes another swig of his beer. “I guess I should stop calling her Myers. You know, with the divorce and all.”

The bottle escapes Jake’s grip, and amber liquid sloshes across the table, into Sandeep’s lap. “Shit, Seresin! Grab some napkins, will you?”

* * *

 2012

 You’d always known there was an expiration date on this thing with Jake, which is why you’d been reluctant to meet his mom to begin with.

You wanted fundamentally different things. He, the Navy: Adventure, excitement, a chance to serve his country. You: Stability. A family. A place where you belonged.

Both of you: an opportunity to prove yourself.

It’s civil, as far as breakups go.

“You always knew I wanted to fly.” He says, over breakfast at Magnolia Café. There’s a hard set to his jaw that makes you soften in contrast, because of course you do, everyone who’s ever been near Jake Seresin for longer than ten minutes knows he’s always wanted to fly.

From your first date he told you about how Judy used to park him in her office at the airport when her summer childcare fell through; little Jake happily spending the day watching commercial jets taxiing and taking off in quick succession.

How her coworkers, the civilian engineers who’d stayed on after Bergstrom Air Force Base was decommissioned and commercialized, would regale him with stories about generations of F-4 Phantoms. Or the British Airways Concorde, one of only twenty of the ill-fated aircraft ever made, bringing the Queen to Austin in a little yellow hat. The Reconnaissance Air Meet bringing in the best fighter pilots from across all divisions of the military and abroad, to compete and show off their skills.

Jake would listen to them with stars in his eyes.

You pick at your migas, your appetite gone. “I know, Jake. I would never stop you.”

But you look at him, and you know your face mirrors his determination. “But I can’t come with you, Jake. I can’t start my career following you around from camp to base year to year. I’m forty-thousand dollars in debt getting this degree, and I need to follow my own plan.”

You haven’t moved in together, though Jake spends most of his nights at your tiny off-campus apartment, where you’ve made him countless cups of black coffee trying to fuel weekend study sessions. Where he would come in past midnight, back from the late shift at his part-time job at the H-E-B, and bury his face in your neck, waking you up even though you’d been asleep for hours. Where you would hold his sleeping head to your chest, his deep breathing somehow felt inside of you, and run your fingers up and down the bare skin of his back, trying to memorize him.

You’re twenty-two, you tell yourself. This is not the end of the world.

So you see him off at the front door, a box of his things clutched to his chest, and you force yourself to be strong. “You better be,” and you try to smile up at him, but you’re not sure you’re doing a convincing job, “You better be the best goddamn pilot the Navy has ever seen, Jake.”

For a second, he looks like he wants to say something, but then he just puts down the box, and pulls you into a last embrace. You sink into it, the fundamentally safe feeling of his arms around you, then make yourself pull away after a minute, pretending you don’t see the wet stains on his shirt.

Later you look at all the spaces in your apartment he is now conspicuously absent from (no dog-eared volume of Game of Thrones on the nightstand, no boots by the door), and it hits you then; the crevasse he’s left in your life. It may run deeper than you thought.

* * *

Jake had gone to Officer Candidate School in Rhode Island, then designator-specific training in Pensacola, Florida, and done his best not to think about you.

It helped that his days were intense and exhausting. It helped that, on liberty weekends, girls would flock to him and his friends in bars.

It helped to be several states away from you.

It helped to be living his dream.

* * *

There is a bit of a backslide, that first Thanksgiving after, where you both think it can’t hurt to see each other for one drink, for old time’s sake, which ends in him taking you up against the door in your new apartment, your legs wrapped around his waist because he does not have the willpower or presence of mind to figure out the way to your bedroom.

He knows it was a mistake, at about five AM the next day, when the blue light of morning starts streaming through a gap in the curtains, illuminating your tousled hair fanned out over the pillow, the steady rise and fall of your chest so familiar to him he could cry.

Untangling himself from you hurts, and he does perhaps the most cowardly thing he ever will: he sneaks out before you wake up. But next week he’s shipping out, and the thought of the same dead-end conversation over coffee made just the way he likes it is unbearable, so he makes himself walk away.

Somehow it’s worse, the second time around.

* * *

You’d met someone else, like he’d known you would. He sees the engagement announcement on Facebook, browsing on his phone between drills, and likes the post. It’s the third year he’s been away, and he’s at TOPGUN by then, so he has a lot on his mind. He has a girlfriend, even, a local: cute as a button, beats him savagely at pool.

It doesn’t fully hit him until the first time he sees you with your then-fiancé, at a little holiday reunion of college friends. He sees you with that ring on your finger, another man’s arm around your shoulders, and he gets an acute sense of the alternate reality that could’ve been his.

It feels a little like losing altitude too fast.

Your initial reception of him is understandably frosty, but you seem too genuinely happy to hold a grudge. By the third round, when he sidles up to you at the bar, you give him a quick hug, looking up at him with a smile that squeezes his heart: “I’m so proud of you, Jake.”

He nods, not quite trusting himself to speak, and pulls you back in, just for a moment, tucking your head under his chin. You smell like apple and magnolia, like nights spent with his nose pressed into your back.

You don’t invite him to the wedding, and he’s all too glad not to have to make up an excuse not to go.

* * *

Things settle, after that. Jake gets deployed and reassigned, breaks up with his girlfriend and eventually gets another. You get promoted to senior engineer, then project lead. You see each other, not every year but close enough, sometimes with your husband there, sometimes without.

He braces himself for the next Facebook post; that you’re pregnant, but it never comes. Over time, even that seems to lose some of its potential emotional impact on him.  

Until three weeks ago, when you don’t text him back.

* * *

 2022

 You kick your shoes off in the entryway, then head into the kitchen to pour a glass of water. Before you can reach the tap, the doorbell rings, and for a second you think somehow, some way, your terrible Bumble date has followed you home.

Grabbing the biggest kitchen knife you own off the magnet strip over the sink, just in case, you creep back to the door, barefoot, to press your face up to the peephole.

You don’t really expect to see the guy you just left, the ice in your glass not even melted before you were thinking up excuses to get out of there, but you sure as fuck don’t expect to see Jake either.

The door feels heavier than usual as you slowly slide it open, or maybe you’re just a little stunned. The night air hits your skin, and you can make out the sound of dogs barking in the distance.

For a long moment, Jake just looks at you, but then he says: “What were you planning on doing with that, sweetheart?”

You follow the jut of his chin down the line of your arm, and contemplate the knife for a second, Jake’s sudden appearance having made you forget all about it.

“I thought someone might have followed me here.”

“Ah.” He says, a spark in his eyes, clearly suppressing a smile. “If you were going to defend yourself in hand-to-hand combat, a knife is a terrible choice. I could give you some tips, though.”

Putting the damn thing down on your entryway console, you turn back to look at him. It’s not cold, exactly, in December in South Central Austin, but he looks underdressed: a long-sleeved light grey t-shirt, hands shoved in the pockets of a faded pair of jeans.

He looks good, you can’t deny it: he’s always had an immediate effect on you.

Jake, your somewhat gangly, sweet college boyfriend had it. Jake, ten years of military training later: older, filled out, fine crinkly lines starting to appear at the corners of his eyes (helped along by the California sun and God knows what far-off places), irrevocably still does.

You shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts. “What are you doing here, Jake?”

At that, his expression sobers, and he looks at you for a long moment before he says:

“You didn’t tell me.”

* * *

Fucking Sandeep, you think, rubbing the back of your hand across your eyes, because that fucker has not been subtle with the hints lately, tutting like a Victorian matron while you pass the time evaluating your Bumble matches with his husband during Monday night football’s ad breaks.

The granite of your kitchen countertop feels reassuringly cool beneath your thighs, and you take a deep breath, keeping your eyes on the tile below:

“I wasn’t ready.”

Jake huffs, or so you assume by the little sound that escapes him, as you determinedly face only his sneakers: “It’s been a year. You sure told everyone else we know.”

That makes your head snap up, emotion rising in your chest in a way you don’t like, have always had to tamp down when it comes to him, these last ten years. “Fuck off, Jake. You know it’s different when it comes to you.”

He leans back against the fridge, arms folded, just slightly lifting his right eyebrow at you in that irritating way of his: “I could’ve been there for you.”

Fuck it, you think, all cards on the table then. “I was heartbroken, and embarrassed, and trying to figure out how to exist on my own again after being married for five years to someone who didn’t turn out to be who I thought he was, Jake. Sorry my first impulse wasn’t to come cry on my hometown hero ex-boyfriend’s shoulder.”

His eyes soften, and he pushes off the fridge to come stand next to you, running his fingers over the edge of the countertop. “I’m sorry,” he says, voice quieter than a moment ago. “I’m being a dick. It’s just, you have to know, I would’ve been there for you.”

He pauses for a second, takes a deep breath: “It’s always been different when it comes to you too, sweetheart.”

You start to shake, a little, or maybe it’s your imagination. But your voice wavers as you say his name, everything about your tone a warning: “Jake.”

He closes his eyes, shakes his head: “Our timing sucked, and I don’t regret our decision from back then. I’m proud of who I’ve become in the last ten years, and I’m proud of you. You think I don’t keep up with what you’re doing? The articles you’ve published?”

This stuns you, momentarily. “No, Jake Seresin. If I’m completely honest, I didn’t think you gave a shit about the latest advances in Texas drought management.”

Just being near him, the familiar smell of him bringing up memories you’ve had years to unsuccessfully repress, is overpowering.

He makes it worse by turning to you, face so goddamn heartbreakingly earnest as he says: “I couldn’t give you what you deserved, ten years ago, but I always told myself, if I was ever in a position to…” He swallows. “I tried to forget about it when you got married, I tried to root for you and Brett, I swear.”

His hand settles next to your thigh, not quite touching, and your hand comes down on its own accord to cover his. He straightens almost imperceptibly, uses his other palm to wipe a tear that’s made its way down your cheek.

Cupping your face, he draws a deep breath. “I have a permanent assignment now, in San Diego. I know it’s…”

“Jake.” You interrupt, squeezing your eyes shut, grabbing the hem of his shirt. “I’m not remotely the same person I was back then.”

He moves to stand in front of you now, and you draw him in between your thighs. Suddenly it seems imperative that you feel him, that he holds you.

Dipping his head to yours, you can hear the smile in his voice, watery, tentative: “Then let me get to know you again. Get to know me again.” He leans one hand on the counter, the other tracing your cheekbone. “No pressure. I’m totally very cool about this. Whatever you want.”

You laugh, a little choked up through tears, but genuine. It feels liberating. “What if I say yes? How does this work?”

His smile broadens, eyes crinkling at the corners, and he’s so goddamn close, nudging your nose with his. “Come visit me, for a start. I’ll show you the sights.”

You draw him in a little closer still, legs wrapping around his waist, one hand finding its way into his close-cropped hair, and you could cry for how familiar he still feels after all these years.

But when you close the gap between your lips and his, it’s like coming home and yet not at all: he’s different and rougher and sharper and it floods you with emotion, something big and terrifying and old and new.

He leans into the kiss, grinning, cards his fingers through your hair before he moves to cover your chin, your brow, the space next to your ear with kisses, and you remember this with a jolt to your heart – how singularly intense it is to be the focus of Jake Seresin, like the strength of the sun is aimed at you, how he never does anything by halves.

You take his chin in your hand, kiss him again for good measure, before saying, into the stubble of his jaw: “One visit. No pressure.”

The grin he gives you in return could power half this city: “One visit. No pressure.”

He dips his head to yours again, kissing the skin behind your ear as he tells you: “Southern California has a lot of drought problems, you know. I’ve actually been reading some really scary articles about it.”

.

.

.

i hope you enjoyed :):) - if you liked this I hope you’ll check out some of my other work:

where the wild things are (rooster x reader)

cross my heart (hangman x reader) masterlist

[hel1nn]

And suddenly everything changed ೀ⋆｡

Ch.3 ⋆｡˚୨ oh getting married ୧˚｡ previous:3

𐔌 . ⋮ satoru gojo x fem zenin!reader .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ : Listen to kingston while reading ⭑.ᐟ

୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ : fluffyy | 18+ smut mdni | eventual smut | arranged marriage | reader is 22 and gojo is 25 | reader had a lonely life untill satoru came | abuse (gojo did nothing here.) | trauma | sprinkles of angsts | jealousy | flashbakes | soft!satoru | soft!reader | loss of virginity | self harm | first time falling in love | reader has two sisters. | Reader belongs to zenin clan. | Idiots to lovers | reader doesn't find satoru annoying since she was alone her whole life. | Insecurities | 𖦹ׂ ₊˚⊹⋆

౨ৎ Summery : spending your whole life with feeling of being useless and a waste of space,even worse that your two sisters had cursed energy but you didn't, made you wanted to kill yourself so many times but it stopped when a marriage proposal was sented to gojo clan about marrying you or one of your two sisters. Your sisters were so powerful and beauty with brain so why did satoru gojo choosed you? Series masterlist. Moodboard

A/N : yes i changed the wedding date. Sorry if i made any mistakes:)

Days were flowing and the date 30th December was nearing. But your days were still boring but now theres a little change. You wake up,use the bathroom,eat your breakfast if you want,continue your day like you always do. And at night you think about him. This little change in your daily life made you a little anxious but the thoughts about him always ends up making your cheeks look like a tomato. You didn't tell anyone about your new phone. That one satoru gifted you. It had his number saved in it. His contact named as "sweetoru". (He named it) You didn't really minded..you let it be left as it is. Satoru would call you. Text you. Always making you smile over his silly little texts. Sometimes he would sent you some flirty texts. Most of the time you don't really understand what he's saying but when you do you smile like an idiot. Just like he dose whenever you text him. You met him almost one month ago yet it feels like hes someone really close to you. So much close, so close it feels like he will steal your heart away-

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

It didn't took too long for your and satorus marriage to come. You were sitting in front of vanity. Maids who were like witches to you now acting like the sweetest ladies. Dolling you up for satoru. You were nervous but still you tried your best to keep your pieces together. the eyes. Those eyes of peoples you hated so much will stare at you again. Will break the little bit of confidence you had. You were scared that what if you were going to mess up the wedding. Huh. At least you'll escape this hell of an shit. You didn't at least wanted to get satoru disappointed. You were already insecure and it was enough. You didn't wanted to be more insecure.

You sticked to satoru almost half of the wedding. And you were still sticking up to him. And he loved it. watching you feel comfortable in his presence. Whenever any old farts or any snake in the name of relatives of yours or satorus came to talk with you he dealed with it after seeing you feel uncomfortable. Their eyes judged you as if your a broken piece of an useless glass standing beside a diamond like satoru. Just like now. A girl who was was with satoru in the 4th year of Jujutsu high but then shifted to kyoto. Satoru didn't knew who invited her in the wedding but she was the daughter of an wealthy higher ups member. Her name was momo ishida. When she approached both of you, you felt satoru tensing up a little bit. You didn't thought about it so much and flashed her a smile. "hi" you mumble softly. But satoru didn't smile,his expression boared a little bit. "May i know what do you want from us" satoru said. The girl looked at him with a little pout then her gaze shifted to yours. Her lips turning into a mischievous grin,her gaze piercing through you. "Is this your little wife? Satoru." Satorus eyebrow twitched slightly at her calling him satoru. "Hey now don't be like that. She's a sweetheart if you get to know her properly." Satoru gives her a tight lipped smile,you could tell it was probably a fake on. You sighed and slightly stood more closer to him. What could you do anyway.

"i thought your wife would be a beauty"

Your eyes shot up,you looked at her with a frown

"wha-"

"sorry i didn't meant it like that,its just.. your too simple." She said before looking at satoru whos jaw was clenched. Trying not to glare at her "you can go and mind your business now. We have no problem with it, if you don't know." Satoru said and the girl pouted slightly again before walking away. You stood there like a lost puppy. Not knowing what to say. Satoru sighed and looked at you with a soft smile "we can left if you want you know...only if you're uncomfortable' you perked up. Smiling slightly. You nodded "yeah..we should left. Theyre still wasting their time." Satoru chuckled before his hand grabbed your smaller ones. both of your wedding rings shining brightly on the ring fingers. He gently leads you out of the crowdy place. "I'll call ijichi to pick us up. The higher ups already booked a hotel for us tonight.." satoru said to you,taking out his phone. Already out of the whole place. You just stood there..you were going to spend you night..with him today and..you were freaking out inside, already sweating.

"we're... going to share a bed.. right" you mumble.. trying to act like your not dying inside yet satoru only chuckles softly, looking at you with a teasing expression "don't worry i won't bite you,i can sleep on the couch or the floor"

You slightly get relieved but...your just newly married husband was going to sleep on couch..you didn't knew what to say actually. Little did you know higher ups told satoru try to get you pregnant. But satoru wasn't a guy who was going to do anything without anyone's permission. Especially you,his newly married wifey. And if he was being honest this is too early for both of you to further your relationship physically. The ride to hotel was kinda awkward,the silence felt like a wall between you two. When both of you arrived at the hotel satoru came out of the car first,then holding the car door open for you. The heavy dress on you felt like a burden now. Giving him a small smile as you get out of the car.

"you don't have to worry about your clothes,the things i got you back then are all in the hotel room"

Satoru play fully whispered in your ear. You you laughed slightly before entering the building with him

You sat on the bed,your clothes changed into an t shirt and sweats. Finally resting but stressed at the same time. How could you let satoru sleep on the couch on your wedding night. You cursed yourself for agreeing to him sleeping on the couch- sorry this is an arm chair here:D you sighed and your head snapped to the side as satoru enters the room,giving you a smile.. you smiled back at him nervously. Satoru already started to get prepared to sleep on the arm chair but then you spoke.

"goj- satoru. You don't have to sleep on the couch. Just sleep on the bed i won't even try to look at you" you mumbled

"but aren't you uncomfortable? I don't wanna get you upset tonight noww" satoru chuckled

"just do what i say-"

"but if your uncomfort-"

"satoru just sleep on the other side of the bed,i am not uncomfortable as long as you don't touch me" you frimly stated.

After arguing for few minutes satoru finally agreed. Finally settling down beside you on bed. You could finally sleep in peace. Both of you getting lost in your dreams. Little did the two of you knew how you were using his warm body as a body pillow. Relaxed. The room filled with the soft breathing of you and satoru

This is kinda obviously rushed.

Taglist : @chilichopsticks @milolop @kuroosvow @bypanana @hoseokslefteyebrow @sorcerersseestars @ssetsuka @megumisthirdog @certainduckanchor @myahfig4 @officialholyagua and idk why i can't tag @deliciouslydeliciouspenguin :(

[bruhnze]

The one with I love you - Lucy Bronze x Ona Battle

Based on this request, hope you like it xx

Summary: Lucy takes Ona on a date night in London.

Warnings: Suggestive at the end, swearing? just mostly fluff.

Wordcount: 3K

The one with I love you - Lucy Bronze x Ona Battle

It was December 2023, Ona and Lucy had been together for a bit now, making it official a couple months after Staniforth's wedding.

The pair had officially met Lucy at Staniforth's wedding, that had been 22.12.22. Exactly one year later, 22.12.23, the couple took a trip to London to celebrate.

Lucy had everything planned and told Ona that she only had to worry her outfits, telling her she needed to put on some layers because England was very cold, especially in December. At that Ona had laughed telling her she had lived in England for three years so she knew.

They checked into the hotel at the end of the afternoon, a little tired from the journey, they decided to lie down on the bed for a second before they would change and go.

''We have a little time to cuddle before we go if you'd like'' Lucy asked.

Ona smiled ''i'd love that, i love that we have some time off together again''.

Lucy grinned ''and i love you'' she said as she booped Ona's nose.

The shorter woman chuckled and embraced her girlfriend ''i love you too Luce, im so happy to have met you a year ago''.

Lucy swayed the both of the while they were standing in their embrace ''me too, that was one of the best days of my life''. Lucy sighed.

Ona pressed her head deeper against Lucy's chest and sniffed in the scent of her girlfriend, a scent she'd been had become so attached to these last months, after dating long-distance for a while.

They stood there for a minute when Lucy spoke again ''the bed is probably a bit more comfy''.

"Are you trying to talk me into bed?" Ona joked.

Lucy rolled her eyes as she kicked off her shoes and lay down on the bed "no honey, that will come later, I have a whole schedule and you know if we start we won't stop."

The shorter woman also took off her shoes "that's my side Luce" she said as she walked to the same side of the bed she had at home.

"I thought you wanted to cuddle" Lucy asked innocently "but I can move?".

Lucy knew her girlfriend liked to lay on top of her and use her chest to rest her head on.

The Catalan's face lit up with a smile ''no i want to cuddle''.

They shifted until they were comfy ''how long do you want to get dressed?'' Lucy asked.

''20?''

''Mkay, I'll just set an alarm to make sure we're on time for the reservation and book an Uber for us in advance.''

And as she had guessed her girlfriend had dozed off in the long hour, Ona could nap anywhere and Lucy never had the heart to wake her sleeping beauty, she always looked so at peace, so she let the alarm do it for her.

Ona groaned and Lucy placed some soft kisses on the top of her head ''im sorry baby''.

As Ona appearantly remembered where they were she shot up, almost banging Lucy head ''yeahh, now i can finally know what we're doing'' she shouted enthusiastically.

Lucy laughed ''no i said it's a suprise''.

''yeah but it's time'' Ona pouted.

''No, now is 'get dressed' time''.

Ona looked at the dark haired woman with puppy eyes ''give me a hint'' she said as she fluttered her lashes.

Lucy grimaced at her, annoyed at herself about how easy she was for this pretty little woman ''we are going to dinner''.

The Catalan rolled her eyes ''i would've never guessed, i mean more, where? how?''

''Dinner in London'' Lucy said as she lightly poked at her girlfriend that was sitting on her lap ''don't ask anymore baby, let it be a surprise, if you ask again i'll probably tell you everything''.

Ona tilted her head ''what do you mean?''.

"I can't deny you anything, you're my weak spot"

Laughing, Ona got up from the bed "I thought that was your knee?" she said cheeky, looking at Lucy from behind her lashes.

Lucy's mouth dropped as she laughed perplexedly ''Ona!'' ''don't tell me that nap got you in one of those moods'' she said as she stood up aswell.

The Catalan opened up their suitcase after laying it on the bed ''maybe'' she grinned ''maybe im just happy you'll do anything for me, i liked hearing that''.

''so you mock me?'' Lucy said as she hugged her shorter girlfriend from behind, placing her chin on her shoulder ''because mocking still comes with consequences''.

'''no i was just teasing a litte bit, your knee isn't even that weak, if it was really that bad i wouldn't dare joking about it'' Ona said as she flipped through some clothes.

''hmm'' Lucy gave a quick kiss to Ona's neck ''good save''.

Ona chuckled before she was back to buisness ''here'' she said as she handed Lucy some clothes ''you wear this''.

Lucy accepted the black clothes Ona handed her ''what are you wearing'' Lucy asked curious.

''you'll see'' Ona said as she took a bundle of clothes.

''huh, are you going to change in the bathroom?''.

''yup, you have your surprises, i have mine'' Ona chuckled as she kissed Lucy while passing her.

///

The Uber stopped and Lucy thanked the driver before she got out to give Ona a hand, helping her out of the car too.

''Bar and Restaurant'' Ona read from the sign below the name of the place.

''yup, I heard from someone that it is very nice, there is a kind of stage in the middle that you can look at while you eat''.

''ooh fun''. Ona said as they walked in together.

''I have a reservation on Bronze'' Lucy said to the woman that was stood behind a counter.

''allright, table for two right'' the woman said as she looked up.

''yes, table for two'' Lucy said as she smiled at Ona.

As they left their coats in the foyer, they got a ticket with a number to retrieve them later.

''hey 22'' Lucy said as they walked behind the woman to their designated table.

''our national numbers'' Ona smiled.

''Or just your Barca one'' Lucy grinned ''but i actually like your version better, did you just come up with that?''.

''This will be your table for the night'' the woman said as she pointed at a table in the corner ''i hope you two have a great evening''.

''Thank you'' they both said as they took place.

The music was quite loud so during the evening Ona had sat closer and closer to Lucy.

They had eaten steak and asparagus, they wanted to go for something that was not that bad and it had been delicious, for drinks the both had mainly drank water, also because it was a break in the middle of the season and they didn't want to hinder their performances.

Travelling already took impact on their body's, the least they could do was to not drink alcohol. But still wanting to enjoy their time there, Lucy's choise had been amazing, as they had a great show to watch during dinner.

There had seen different acts, singing or dancing, some together, some alone. There was a man who played the piano, it was a bit quieter than the other acts, but Ona really liked it.

''wow Luce, that was beautifull'' Ona said to Lucy.

Lucy agreed.

As they had finished their food and a break for the performers was announced Lucy and Ona made their way to the exit of the restaurant.

''i'm going to pay, will you get our coats?'' Lucy asked Ona, handing her the ticket.

Ona didn't like that plan that much, prefering to do everything together, but she agreed because she thought it was stupid to walk with Lucy to pay, she would probably have looked like a lost puppy.

It didn't take long for Lucy to be back with Ona ''thank you beautiful'' she said as she took her coat from Ona.

The Catalan blushed as she tied her own coat closed.

As the pair walked outside Lucy said ''you look really beautiful by the way, i forgot to tell you when we left the hotel earlier''.

Ona chuckled ''You know I'm already your girlfriend, you don't have to win me over again."

''oh no'' Lucy shook her head ''you have the wrong idea, i'll always keep on hitting on you''.

Ona laughed as she slightly walked into Lucy ''your stupid''.

''nah ah'' Lucy laughed ''im smart, i'll make moves on you, everyone else backs off''.

''pfft, who even is everyone?''. Ona said as she rolled her eyes.

''exactly'' Lucy grinned ''you only ogle me, just like i like it''.

They continued their corny conversation until Lucy had navigated them to the next spot "this seemed like a nice spot for dessert" "but first I have something else in mind."

''woww'' Ona cooed ''London fair'' she read from a sign.

''yup and im gonna win u a stuffed animal'' Lucy stated.

Ona chuckled ''but don't be sad if you don't succeed, those things are always rigged''.

Lucy scoffed ''were no losers Ona come on, ill win u a stuffed animal''.

''okay then, lets play some games''.

First they came to a stall where they had to throw bean bags against tin cans. "Let's give this a try?" Lucy asked Ona.

After a few tries, where Ona did even better than Lucy, but both sucking at the game, they decided to try and look for a different one.

That had brought them to 'shooting' where moving discs had to be hit with a gun.

This time Lucy had been the better party, with Ona scaring the person in the stall with how recklessly she handled the thing, making Lucy laugh.

Lucy had won a price, but it was nowhere near enough for the big stuffed animal she wanted to win for Ona so she kindly declined and they moved on.

Then Lucy saw a Basketball throwing game - ''ohhh i've practiced this at england camps''. she said excitedly.

When they got closer Lucy eyed a big teddy bear with a red heard with i love you on it. That bear seemed perfect for her girlfriend, the thing had to be almost as big as Ona, now she really wanted to win.

Lucy didn't even give Ona an opportunity to try the game herself.

It was a game where a basketball had to be aimed precisely into a tilted milk can.

After already having tried 3 times Lucy dribbled a bit with the ball, claiming that she had to get some feeling in her hands for the basketball, telling the guy in the stall she was a usually more of a football girl.

When she had missed another 2 times she groaned ''if i was allowed to chip it in, it would've been in an hour ago''.

''if ya want ya could try'' the guy shrugged ''just dont break anything, and dont hit me''.

Lucy grinned ''mkay'' she did a few keep ups with the ball and looked at the jug she wanted to go for, a few bystanders had gathered around them, only motivating Lucy more, knowing she was great under pressure, always enjoying the important matches the most.

This was just as important to her as the Champions League final.

With mere precision she chipped the ball towards the jug, she held her breath when it landed on the edge, but when she saw that it fell into the barrel after half a lap on the edge, she jumped for joy.

The people thet had gathered cheered for her.

The guy laughed ''shit, i aint never seen that before, that was cold''.

''Told ya'' Lucy grinned ''im pretty good at footy''.

"Apparently" the guy laughed, "and the middle one too, that means you get to choose one from the biggest prizes."

''Perfect'' Lucy said as she pointed to the bear she had eyed earlier ''The one with I Love You please'' she said to guy before turning to Ona and whispering in her ear ''because I Love You''.

The guy climbed up a stool to reach te bear and as the people around them walked away Ona gave Lucy a quick kiss on the cheek ''i can't believe you did that, you're just a winner, aren't you?''.

''yup, always winning, best of the league, prettiest girlfriend, hottest girlfriend, smartest girlfriend''.

Ona rolled her eyes but laughed.

Lucy stepped forward when the guy reached out with the teddy bear ''thank you'' she said as she took it.

''yeah have a good one, that was sick, ill probably tell me mates''.

''tell them Lucy Bronze won your biggest price by chipping in a basketbal in the middle jug''.

''Lucy Bronze?''

Lucy laughed ''yeah mate, thats me name''.

''like Euros Bronze?'' He looked at Lucy with wide eyes ''WAAIITT, you were the drunky with the goggles right!!''.

Lucy pushed her head into the teddy bear ''i wasn't drunk''.

''yo, thats tough, can we shoot a pic?''

''ofcourse, let me just'' she handed Ona the teddy bear.

The guy took a picture with Lucy and she sigend the basketball she had 'scored with' as the guy put it and his shirt.

''Sorry about that, couldn't help it''. Lucy said as they walked on, to a part of the fair they hadn't seen now that Lucy's mission had been accomplished and they could search for a good dessert.

''i don't mind i got a teddy bear from my teddybear''. Ona swooned.

''and yesterday you said im corny, look at you now''

The Calatan was not impressed ''i said we were both a bit corny, but that we couldn't help it because our love is perfect like in a movie''.

''yeah i know i was just messing with you sorry'' Lucy said as she rubbed Ona's back gently ''it truly feels like a movie, all from the start when we met at the wedding one year ago, but also just little things like that 22 ticket or that i just won the bear'' Lucy said dreamy.

''Well, i wouldn't call this a little thing'' Ona joked as she held the bear up.

''i thought it was perfect for you'' Lucy smiled ''when i saw it i knew i had to win'' ''wait let me take a picture of you with it''.

After walking around for a little longer Lucy and Ona had shared a chocolate covered waffle. Before Lucy had ordered an Uber to the hotel.

///

In the car Ona had put the bear in the middle seat, Lucy didn't like it, it restricted her to touch Ona.

She reached behind the bear with her hand and took Ona's hand.

Ona bent over the bear and smiled at Lucy "I had the best time Luce".

''Me too babe, it was a nice date, right? was the surprise worth it?''.

Ona nodded ''perfect'' then she put on a slightly more serious face ''i wanted to kiss you, but,. the bear is a bit in the way''.

Lucy didn't need to hear anymore, she pushed the bear's head down "what bear?" she grinned as she leaned towards Ona.

''be nice to the teddy'' Ona pouted.

"I'll be nice to him again soon, maybe when he's not in the way." Lucy rolled her eyes.

Ona gave in for the kiss but didn't let it last too long before she sank back into her seat.

Lucy looked at her girlfriend who had a mischievous grin on her face ''what?'' she asked.

"Oh I was thinking about the surprise I still have for you." Ona said softly.

Lucy suspected it was a new set of lingerie and blushed slightly ''i can't wait''.

The cab had dropped them off infront of the hotel and they took the elevator up. While the English defender was hugging the Spanish from behind they both looked in the mirror.

''You can take a picture'' Ona said with a soft smile, looking at her girlfriend who was dreaming away in her own world.

Lucy smiled ''you're just so perfect amor'' she cooed and forced herself to look away for a moment to grab her phone for a photo.

At their room, Ona quickly walked in after Lucy opened the door and put the bear down somewhere before standing still in the middle of the room and standing there determinedly with her hands on her hips. "You can now unpack your surprise."

Lucy walked over laughing ''looks like we both couldn't wait''.

"hmm," Ona said as the taller woman's hands found their place on her hips ''you know it has been a while Lucy''.

Lucy groaned "fuck I know'' she kissed Ona's neck ''I hate it too, we've just been so busy."

Ona chuckled on the inside, realising that it might have been even harder for the Englishwoman than herself ''how long has it been?'' she asked innocently.

"Eight and a half days," Lucy said in a low voice as she pulled Ona even closer to her.

Now Ona chuckled out loud, resulting Lucy to look at her with a serious gaze ''what?''.

''Nothing'' Ona said as she shook her head smiling ''you have a countdown in your head''.

''only for important things'' Lucy said as her fingers slipped under the hem of Ona's top ''now lets see what you hid under here''.

Ona helped Lucy undress her and stood only in a black set infront of Lucy. Only this time she had paired it with thigh bands, something she had never worn before. The bra and panties covered just nothing as they were made of see-through lace.

Lucy's eyes shamelessly roamed Ona's body. ''fuck you're so hot''. ''turn around for me baby''.

Ona blushed and did as told.

The English woman got weak in the knees from the sight of her scantily clad girlfriend, seeing the small thread disappearing between her ass cheeks and her hamstrings surrounded by the lace.

She gripped Ona's ass and took the flesh rougly between her fingers squeezing it before she retracted her hands and gave a carefull slap to the group of muscle.

Ona chuckled and turned back around ''you like?''.

''mhm i like'' Lucy replied with the same english Ona had used ''i like it a lot, shame we didn't bring my-

Ona grinned and interupted her ''oh we did, i packed it anyways, i don't care if they'd seen it at customs''.

''hmmm'' Lucy chuckled '' i dont know if you deserve a little punishment for not listening to me or if i should thank you by giving you everything you want''.

The Catalan stood on her tiptoes to whisper something in her ear ''easy decision no? those are both the same too me''.

A groan came from the taller womans throat, she loved the way Ona and her worked in the bedroom, ''mkay pretty girl, god your so perfect, go fetch it for me, i'll get undressed and then you can help me put it on, okay?''.

Ona nodded eagerly and happily gave a quick kiss to Lucy before going to the suitcase in search for the strap-on she had brought.

-----

The end :)

[aanoia]

for the christmas thing, i think a oneshot that's basically just james and reader with a mistletoe. could be at a party or maybe even while they decorate their house!! whatever you want to do with that prompt is fine though :)

thank you so much for the request, I hope you love it!

𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝒐𝒏𝒆 - 𝒂 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒐𝒆 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔

James Potter x reader day one of the christmas advent calendar words; 849 warnings; none this one is so sweet :) also it's december finally, literally the best month of the year and my birthday (which is christmas on the dot)

‘Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas’ played softly as I entered the Lupin homestead. I smiled as I shrugged off my scarf and coat, gently placing them on the coat rack before walking into the living room.

“Oh, Y/n! You made it!” Lily said happily, leaving the warm side of her boyfriend to give me a tight hug. 

“Lily! I’ve missed you.” I responded, hugging her back just as tight.

“Me too, it’s been ages since we’ve last seen each other, hasn’t it?” She asked and I opened my mouth to answer, but was cut off as a large black dog came running into the living room, a dripping spatula caught between its teeth.

Remus ran in after Sirius, “Sirius! Enough, give me back the spatula. Dogs can’t have chocolate, idiot!”

Sirius transformed into his human self, “Well then, it’s a good thing I’m not a dog then, isn’t it?” He looked over to me and licked the spatula. “‘Ello, love, how have you been doing?”

I snorted and pulled him into a hug, “Quite well, if I must say. And you?”

He winked, “I’ve been great. Having a place with your boyfriend, just your boyfriend, is great. If you know what I mean.” I shook my head as I gave Remus a hug, mumbling quiet hello’s to each other.

“Gross.” Peter said, walking out of the kitchen, wearing the most hideous, wretched Christmas sweater I’ve ever seen.

I raised my eyebrows, “Wow, Peter, you really took the ugly part seriously.”

“It’s not ugly, what do you mean?” Peter’s girlfriend, Amanda (sorry to the Amanda’s) piped up and I refrained from rolling my eyes.

“Amanda, you’re here.” I said with a fake smile.

She looked me up and down and grimaced. “I am. For some reason.” She mumbled at the end, walking back into the kitchen. I made eye contact with Lily and she rolled her eyes at her antics.

Everyone retreated to the kitchen as I set my purse down on the coffee table and smiled at the large Christmas tree.

“Everyone gets a hi but me, huh?” I jumped as a voice sounded from behind me.

I turned around, “James. Hi.” 

He smiled and pulled me into a hug. “Hello, how have been, love?” He asked softly.

“I’ve been good, how about you?”

“Much better now that you’re in front of me.” He said, taking a step to the side and bringing me with him.

I looked into his eyes as he kept nudging us gently, “What are you doing?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why are you moving us?”

“Am I moving us?”

I glanced to the side and laughed, taking a step back before we got underneath the mistletoe.

“Not a chance, Potter.” I said smugly, walking past him and into the kitchen with everyone else.

“I’ll get you tonight, L/n.” He called after me and I shook my head.

The oven dinged and Sirius gasped excitedly.

“The cookies!” He exclaimed, jumping up and running to the oven.

Remus shot up, “Sirius, no, you’ll-” Sirius yelped in shock as he burned his finger. Remus sighed, “Burn yourself. Come here.” 

I carefully took the cookies from the oven and Remus bandaged up Sirius’ burn. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, savoring the sweet smell of the fresh cookies.

“They smell delicious.” I said as I set them on top of the pot holder on the counter. “You did great, Remus.”

He smiled at me, “Thank you.”

“Y/n, come here.” James said, beckoning me over to the doorway.

I shook my head as I took the mittens off, “Nope.” I said as I muttered a cooling spell on the cookies and carefully picked one up.

“Please?” He said. I smiled and walked over, shoving a cookie in his mouth before he could conjure a mistletoe.

I booped his nose as he ate the cookie, defeated. “Stop trying to get me to walk under a mistletoe.”

A few candy cane shots later and everyone was up dancing to ‘Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree’. A hand grabbed mine and spun me around as I laughed loudly. James put his other hand on my waist as we swirled and swayed. I failed to notice the way he was gently moving us over, step by step. Eventually, the song ended and a softer one came on as everyone calmed down.

James cleared his throat, “Well, what a coincidence.”

I looked at his face, humming in question before my eyes caught the shimmering of a crystal. I looked up and my heart beat rapidly in my chest as I stared at the mistletoe.

“We can’t break tradition.” He whispered and my eyes met his.

“You’re an ass.” I whispered back before smashing my lips against his. His arm snaked around my waist and bent me backwards slightly as my hand made its way on his cheek. It was nothing short of magical, literally.

“We should go on a date.” He said breathlessly once we pulled away.

I smiled and placed a small kiss on his lips. “If you’re lucky.”

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[kookwashere]

A december kind of love

paring: reader x jungkook, wife/husband

sum: you and jungkook have been married for almost a year and this is your first christmas coming up together as a newly married couple, how will you both spend the start of your holiday season?

warnings: cute nicknames, smut later on in story (big dick jk and unprotected) explicit language, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of oc's trauma (r*pe and abuse), story in lowercase on purpose, please keep these in mind.

🟢🔴🟢🔴🟢🔴🟢🔴🟢🔴🟢🔴

the mistletoe, the little piece green plucked from nature decorated with holiday berries and a bow, hanging in front of a door.

you're arms were wrapped around his neck, his hands resting on your waist, staring in each others eyes in the doorway.

"it's a mistletoe, pretty girl, you know what that means?" he asked, his voice soft.

"of course i know what it means, what about it?" you whispered to him.

he leaned in and kissed your plump red lips. "you know, i've dreamed about spending this holiday for you for as long as i can remember." he said while pulling back

you smiled and played with his hair while looking into his eyes, "it's going to be a good season, huh?" you said.

"the best." he said while leaning in once again to kiss you under the mistletoe.

you smiled and kissed him back again, then your little niece came running in the room. "ooooh! mommy, aunt ____ and uncle kook are kissing again!" you heard her little voice and pulled away from jungkook.

"what are you doing haley? weren't you with your mom?" you asked bending down to her level. "mommy doesn't know i got out of the room...well i guess she does now that i called for her..." she realized. you just giggled and came back up to jungkook.

haley's mom come out, your older sister. "____, sorry she got out, i really tried to keep an eye on her but i got a call and turned around for one second and-" she started rambling "hey, hey- don't worry, i love my little haley." you said and smiled down at her. "and i love her too." jungkook said as he picked up haley in his arms and blew raspberries on her cheek, her cute little giggles filled the room.

"wow, i can't believe it's december already, i feel like all the months went by so fast, i cannot be the only one." you said with your hands on your hips. "no, i agree, it felt like yesterday i asked you to marry me." jungkook said with a smile on his face

"oh please, that felt like 1910." you said jokingly. "did it really feel that long ago?" he asked. "well, i was joking but in some ways it kind of does, i can already see your grey hair koo." you teased, fingers curling around his raven locks.

"what?? no, are you serious?" he panicked and ran to the bathroom to see. "koo, baby- i was just kidding, your still my handsome late 20 year old hubby." you said and pecked his cheek.

"shit, don't do that to me baby, you know wasting money on hair dye is not my thing." he breathed out with his hand over his heart.

you giggled and continued to put up more decorations around your house, your sister was just staying over for the holidays, "trust me, i know jungkook." you said walking away, still giggling.

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you and jungkook were lying in your shared bed, your head resting against his bare chest, his arm around your waist and hand resting on your hip, his other arm under his head, you drew circles on his chest in a pattern that he liked.

"i can't believe it, our first christmas coming up as a married couple." he mumbled out. you nodded and smiled. "crazy, isn't it?" you said against his chest. "i wonder if like 5 or 7 years from now, or whenever, we'll have our own little family, them jumping on our bed christmas morning saying 'santa came!'...i don't know, it's kind of stupid isn't it?" he chuckled.

"no koo, it's not stupid at all, i'm just shocked because i thought you said you didn't want kids." you looked up at him.

"yeah in my junior year of high school silly, but now that i met the love of my life and matured, that's my second big dream." he looked down back at you. "your second? what's your first?" you asked curiously.

"to spend the rest of my life with you until we are buried next to each other 6 feet underground." he smiled.

"hmmm, you little romantic dork." you flicked his forehead. "ow! what was that for?" he said putting his hand on his forehead.

"it's my love language if you forgot, i thought you knew that!" you pouted. "nah i didn't forget baby, just startled me." he chuckled and looked into your eyes. "do you remember my love language?" he asked softly.

"no i don't, do you maybe mind showing me?" you said just as softly back. he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and slowly leaned in, connecting your lips.

your hands found the back of his neck and the kiss melting ever so softly, it just felt so right. he knew he was getting carried away, you both did, but you both needed this right now.

"kook- haley is right next to us in the other room..." you said breaking the kiss. "i guess you'll have to be quiet then, yeah?" he said kissing down your neck, sliding his hands up your night gown.

you held onto his shoulders as he kissed right between your breasts, his hands discarding the night gown.

he came back up to you but his fingers didn't, no, his fingers went down, under your panties, finding your excitement that came from that heated kiss, and just him himself.

"already wet? we just kissed baby, how cute..." he teased. "stop jungkook, please..." you said while gripping his shoulders tighter.

he kissed you again, tongues interlocking, his fingers sliding into your entrance, you moaned but you quickly stopped when you remembered haley or your sister could wake up any moment.

jungkook slid another finger in, shortly a second one, his index finger, middle finger and ring finger all in there. "gotta stretch you out again, it's been awhile." he groaned out. you moaned at his words. "you liked that huh? you dirty girl..." he teased sexily. "kook, g-gonna-" you couldn't finish your sentence because he pulled his fingers out. "i don't think so, cmere." he said and flipped you onto your fours. he quickly took off his boxers, grabbing his heavy length and slapping it against your ass cheek.

"i don't have a condom, is this okay?" he asked quietly. "yes, fuck jungkook, just please put it in." you whined desperately. he bit his lip and lined up his member, sliding it in easily because of your wetness.

"oh my fucking god, fuck baby..." you heard from behind you, your hands pressed against the headboard, moaning as quiet as you can.

his thrusts started to get meaner, but still gentle with you. your moans were started to get louder. "shhh, i should've put my cock in your mouth before to teach you what it's like to be quiet, you disobedient girl." he slapped your ass while thrusting into you. "i-im sorry, i-i- oh my god... i'm trying..." you moaned out, your hand cupping over your mouth to try and be quiet. "mmm." he moaned out, each thrust against you, your ass rippled against him.

"yeah? you like this huh? i do too, i fucking love it, i fucking love you." he said moaning. "i- fuck! i love you too." you whined put. "i'm gonna cum baby, can i cum inside? can i cum inside your tight little pussy?" he said, his thrusts losing that fast steady pattern. "fuck, please jungkook..." you said about to lose it. you felt a pressure in your belly, your eyes rolling back while letting out the sluttiest, beautiful, hottest moan jungkook has heard. just a few seconds after, jungkook came inside you with a loud groan and a strong grip on your ass.

you felt over, breathing heavily, jungkook doing the same. after a few minutes he got up with a warm towel, gently cleaning you both up, with the bed.

"go pee baby." jungkook said gently patting your thigh. you groaned, you were so comfy though. "okay, stay here." you said wrapping a towel around your body. "of course." he smiled tiredly. you went to the bathroom and came back, and joined jungkook in his open arms.

"thank you." you whispered while hugging him. "no, thank you." he said back, hugging you even tighter.

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you woke up in the morning, and yawned, looked over to your side to see your husband beside you. "hey baby, good morning." you whispered, pecking his forehead. he's out of it. you giggled seeing him snore like a beast." you got out of bed, and went over to your full sized mirror, seeing all the love marks jungkook left on your body. your neck, your breasts, your thighs. you sighed, you didn't sigh because you were mad, fuck, you felt like a canvas that was painted by the best artist. you sighed because these marks were good, unlike previous ones you had.

"baby, what's wrong?" you heard a deep voice behind you. "oh good morning! it's nothing." you said looking at him and smiling. "i know when something is wrong, tell me, please." he said holding both of your hands. you hesitated a moment, looking into his eyes.

you sighed giving in. "do you remember i told you the relationship with my father was not good, at all?" you asked tilting your head. "you mentioned it a few times, what's wrong?" he said squeezing your hands.

"when i was 9, my father was always out, he went to clubs, he drinked, cheated on my mom numorous times, it was like that every night. he would come home and throw me and my sister in a closet, locking us in there until we 'learned our lesson'." you looked down your lap. "he burned cigars on our skin, he slapped our mother right infront of us, he threw us and slapped us aswell, it was like that until one night, he was super drunk, more than usual, my sister and mom were already locked in a closet, god knows what happened to them, i was playing with the only barbie i had. i remember him randomly grabbing my arm, throwing me on the bed..then..." you couldn't finish the sentence.

"i'm so sorry, i knew i should have told you earlier but i thought you would think of me differently and then-" you cried "hey, ___, baby- it's okay, shh, your okay baby." he said and pulled you to his chest. "that's why im so close with my sister, just a couple years after that we found out our mom had died and our dad eventually was put in jail...my sister was the one that took care of me, she was always there for me, that's why i'm trying to do the same for her right now." you said, still crying but not as much.

"awww baby...," he whispered. "i don't think any differently of you, if anything...i think your so brave, your such a strong, intelligent, brave woman, that's a reason i fell in love with you, more than you would ever know." he whispered connecting your foreheads.

you smiled and hugged him. "i love you jungkook, i love you so much." you said in his neck.

"i love you more, ____."

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you were still decorating the christmas tree when you realized you forgot to put the star on top, how silly of you. you couldn't even fucking reach the top. "jungkook?" you yelled. "can you help me put the star on the tree?" he came almost immediately, "don't worry, i got you." he smiled.

"thank you." you stepped back so he could work his magic. the star lit up on the tree and it really did pull all of it together. haley came running into the room. "mommy, look! it's a star!" she said with a big toothy smile. "sure is haley, isn't it beautiful?" your sister said. "yes! it's so beautiful like me!" she said confidently.

all three of you giggled agreeing. "i have a really good feeling this is going to be a good christmas and that 2024 is going to come with wonderful things." you said to your sister and jungkook. "i agree." your sister nodded while smiling, staring at the beautiful tree.

jungkook took your hand and kissed the top of it. "as beautiful as this tree is, i have something more beautiful that i can look at every single day." he said looking at you. "maybe in 2024 there will be surprises, sadness, joy, love, but whatever it is, im in it with you, and for the rest of the years to come." he said smiling, taking your hand and leading you under the mistletoe once again.

"you slick boy." you said smiling, leaning in to kiss him again, of course with haley teasing both of you and showing her mother. "you cute girl." he said back, leaning into kiss you again.

yeah, this will be a good year.

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that's it!! i hope you liked this little christmas treat, i'm just posting this now because i'm going to be busy the rest of december but wanted to do something 🥺 i hope everyone has a merry christmas and a happy new year! 💜

[abrcmswrld]

Treacherous | Mike Schmidt x Reader

Summary: Reader and Mike have been best friends since childhood. After a fight, Reader is given a surprise visit.

Warnings: General Angst, General Fluff, a suggestive make out scene in the nude but nothing too crazy, mentions of feminine clothing in one part but overall gender neutral

Author's Note: IM EDITING THIS RN SO PLEASE JUST IGNORE THE MISTAKES AND LIKE DUMB STUFF This is my first fic for Mike so bear with me! I tried so hard to adhere to the movie timeline but if it seems shaky please just ignore it lmao. I'm also bad at pacing sorry. I’d love to make this a series cause I’m in love with a good friends to lovers trope.

Mike had always been a bit of a mess. All of the time that you've known him, this has never changed. You can recall times on the playground of boys calling him names for his sensitivities. How were they to know the gravity of his situation? How were you to know? But you always felt called to stand up for him either way.

So you'd hound them off. You'd grab his hand and pull him off the dirt and to a quiet corner of the playground. The two of you would sit on the wooden border, picking at the grass and watching the other kids play.

His sensitivities would quickly turn to a certain hardness that you'd never fully come to understand, even in your late twenties. He'd open up the tiniest bit in high school, after his mother had passed away. He was only 17 years old. You were still children.

You have memories of standing uncomfortably in the dress your mother had insisted you wear to the funeral. You didn't know how to approach him then. He sat alone in a chair on the far side of the funeral home, a blank expression on his face. You couldn't say a word as you took tiny footsteps towards him. And he didn't say a word either, just looked up with bloodshot eyes. You'd hugged him then, feeling his shoulders shakes against you.

Soon it was time for the two of you to start thinking about college and your lives outside of the scope of small town high school. Talks of plans to find something new and excited were quickly stomped out by the failures of his father. You can recall a 23 year old Mike begging for your company on late nights when his father's drinking had reached a climax.

And you'd gladly show up for him. Abby was only six by that time, and Mike was all she had. Mike spoke about his father with disdain to you. Never crying the way he had as child, but you could see a sad anger within the conversations. And really, you couldn't blame him.

You can remember a night on the roof of your childhood home. It wasn’t your first time sneaking Mike through the window of your bedroom. It was a cold December night, and you were home for the holidays.

“I don’t think my dad’s coming back.”

Your knees were pulled up and under your chin as you rest your head and listened to his worries. “What do you mean?”

He sighed. “I mean, he hasn’t been back for three days and I think this might finally be it.”

You furrowed your brows and met his gaze.

“I’ll move back here.”

In that moment he had begged you not to. You were so close to finishing your degree and he insisted that he could not be the reason you didn’t finish. So you heeded to his wishes. You finished your final semester.

In the 6 months that you were gone after that night, his dad had not returned. Mike had stepped up to be a guardian for his sister. Family court would later assure this in legal documentation.

You had hugged him tightly the first night you were home and assured him that you would be there, for the both of them.

━━━

You would prove that to him when his original babysitter had ghosted him.

“Probably got tired of not being paid.” He had said when you asked why.

You don’t ask for pay. You had a day job that kept you stable enough to live. And as Mike’s hours were night shift, there was really no problem with the arrangement.

It would go on for a few weeks. You hadn’t seen pay, but you didn’t mind. Mike would cook you breakfast when he got home. That was payment enough for you.

But you could notice he wasn’t doing well. Dark circles had formed under his eyes. He had confided in you about the actions of his Aunt Jane. He showed you the papers with bold letters proclaiming a request for a change of custody. His stress and worry made sense to you now.

He would have to prove he was fit, a big ask in a court setting, especially for someone like Mike. You had encouraged him the best you could.

But everything had come to a head on a night when Mike had intended to actually pay you.

He woke you from your light sleep on his couch, alerting you that he was home. He sat his tired body on the recliner.

“There’s a 20 dollar bill in my jacket pocket.”

His eyes are closed as he speaks. It seems the night has been a rough one for him. “You don’t have to, but thank you.” You find the jacket lying on the kitchen table. You feel slightly bad as you reach your hand in to find the bill, but your guilt falls into confusion as your fingers brush the tiny bottle inside.

You let your eyes travel over the orange bottle in your hands. You furrow your brows. You turn to face the recliner he sits in.

"Mike."

He turns his head to face you, tired eyes falling on yours. He sees the bottle in your hands and you can see a sense of uncertainty and dread fall across his features.

"What are these? Sleeping pills?"

He immediately tenses, as if he had been avoiding this topic with everyone. But he responds quietly, “Yes.”

You fall silent for a moment, unsure of what to say. Realistically, there was nothing wrong with sleeping pills. People use them all of the time to sleep. But Mike seems hesitant to cover the topic of these pills and why he uses them.

An additional concern comes up in the way he had stuffed them in his jacket pocket. Why was he taking them to work? You hate the way your thoughts sound like the micromanagement of a mother, but all you can see is the bright yellow of the custody papers and Abby’s sweet face in your mind.

“Have you been taking these at work?”

He’s silent. It’s enough of an answer for you. You sigh as you sit the bottle down on the kitchen counter. You’ve known he wasn’t well. The incident that had gotten him fired from his last job, the dark circles under his eyes, the hardness about him, it all worried you. But you had always chose to let him live. Let him make his mistakes.

“Mike, talk to me. What’s going on with you?”

He lets out a spiteful scoff as if the conversation is beneath his worries at the moment. He lets out a shaky sigh. “I feel connected to him there. I don’t know why, but I do.”

There’s no doubt in your mind who he is referring to. His baby brother. The one he couldn’t save. You let him continue.

“If I can put myself into the right state of mind, I can see it. I can watch it over and over. And if I try hard enough maybe I might see who took him.”

He voice drifts off to a quiet and weak tone, “That’s all that matters to me.”

You can tell he’s hurt by the way that his voice comes out strained and weak, and it hurts you too. It’s not as if you couldn’t understand the pain of the situation. He’d cried to you all those years back when it first occurred. What you can’t understand is how he could let it ruin his relationship with Abby. Abby who is alive and well. Abby who, even if discreet, sees Mike as the moon and stars.

“And what about that little girl who sits around and draws you all day long?”

It makes you feel like a bitch to even say such a thing to him, but if it gives him a shake maybe it’d be worth it. “What about her?”

He stands still as a statue, emotions shifting across his face as he processes the words you’ve shot at him. You’re sure they strike like a bullet. His mouth opens and closes again, so you speak again.

“I know how badly you want to bring him back, Mike. To bring him back and be able to pretend none of that ever happened.”

He furrows his brows and you can the see the hurt flood his expression.

“But you’re going to lose them both if you don’t get your shit together.”

You sigh. You hate the way you sound like a mother scolding a child. You take a shaky breath. “Do you think that this job is really good for you? I mean-“ He cuts you off with a scoff and a laugh.

His tense attitude has you uncomfortable and defensive. You hate the way your voice becomes strained as you speak. “I just think it’s taking a toll on you.”

“I need this job, otherwise I’m never gonna see her again.”

And of course you know that. He needs a job to look good for a court that’s supposed to be able to decide if he’s right to take care of his sister. But what good does a job do on paper if the court can clearly see the way his mental stability is shaky? He hesitates and meets your eyes with a tense look as he speaks,

“You’re here to babysit Abby, not me.”

You stand silently in front of him for a moment before grabbing your coat. You turn toward him. You can see the quirk of regret on his expression, but he doesn’t speak, doesn’t take it back.

“It’s gonna take more than a shitty job that drives you crazy to keep her. I think you should find somebody else to babysit Abby.”

There’s malice in your tone and you hate it. But you can’t make excuses for him. You ignore his voice as he says your name quietly. You just let the door close behind you a you walk to your car. You wait for the door to open again behind your back. It doesn’t.

He doesn’t text you either. In fact, you don’t hear from him for another week and you wonder if he’s already replaced you and plans on holding the grudge.

You assume he must have. He must have found another babysitter for Abby. It seemed he was saving money to actually pay whoever took that role.

You can’t stop yourself from becoming more and more sad as the week goes on. You find yourself worrying more and more about Mike. And Abby. There’s no doubt in your mind that Jane was still adamant on proving in court that Mike was an unfit guardian.

You don’t know why you feel as though your presence could somehow remedy that. You don’t know why you feel an ache so deep in your heart. Friendship breakups are common. But Mike was different.

You still don’t let yourself text him. You would give him the power to choose that route. To choose you and the friendship you had given him since you were both children. And by the end of the week you have to force yourself to sleep.

And by the end of the week you get what you had secretly hoped for.

━━━

The knock on your door is urgent. You're half asleep as you rise out of the comfort of your bed. Your feet press against the cold floor as you rush to see who it could be. As you glance through the peephole you're met with those familiar black curls.

You open the door swiftly, shivering at the cool breeze that flows in. He looks like hell. Abby stands at his side. You're stunned, "Oh my God." You open the door wider and usher the two of them in.

Abby seems to be physically uninjured, while Mike's face is bloodied and bruised. You whisper to Mike,

"What the hell happened?"

He looks to Abby before he answers. "Abby should get some rest while we talk." You nod immediately. "Of course. She can sleep in my bed while I patch you up."

You lead the young girl to the bed and ensure she's tucked in. She thanks you quietly before you leave the room. You grab some first aid supplies from the bathroom cabinet on your way back.

"Sit."

You point Mike in the direction of the couch. He winces as you wipe the open cuts with alcohol wipes. You raise an eyebrow, “ You look like hell, Mike.” He scoffs in response.

“So you gonna tell me who did this to you, or am I just gonna have to keep wondering?”

Mike hesitates. You stop your movements to look at him with concern. He shakes his head, “You’re gonna think I’m crazy.” You sigh,

“Mike, I know you. Just tell me.”

And so he does. He explains everything down to the little details he can remember. It sounds crazy, it absolutely does. But you can’t bring yourself to think he’s faking it.

“I know it sounds crazy, but I know what I saw. She knows what she saw.” He points in the direction of the room Abby was soundly sleeping in.

“I believe you.”

He closes his eyes and exhales a large breath. You continue to clean the cuts along his face and head. “I don’t think you’ll need stitches.” He nods. There’s still an awkward tension between the two of you. He’s upset with himself for letting you leave the way you had, and you’re ashamed of yourself for letting him push you away. You break the silence at the same time,

“You know-“

“I’m sorry-“

You can’t help but laugh a little, and he smiles weakly back at you.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry too.” You continue.

He shrugs. “You were just looking out for me. I understand that now.” It means a lot coming from Mike. He’s stubborn, not usually one to admit when he’s wrong. It makes the moment all the more sincere. You smile slightly, letting a hand brush his cheek where a bruise is blossoming under the skin.

“I wouldn’t have said what I did if I didn’t care about you.”

He nods slowly and leans his cheek into your caress. You can feel the warmth of his hand as he lets it fall to your hip. His voice falls to a whisper.

“I care about you too.”

You smile and swipe a thumb over his bottom lip, where the plush skin has split from impact and smeared blood across his pale chin. He groans as he leans up, it’s only then that you notice the large gash on his side.

He attempts to stand, hobbling on his injured leg. “Mike,” He turns toward your bedroom, ready to grab Abby and get out of your hair. When he turns his back, you can see the blood seeping through his shirt and the large tear across his back. You grab his hand,

“Mike.”

He faces you again, letting a quick glance fall to your now connected hands. “Let her sleep, she’s alright. Let me help you.”

He stands awkwardly in front of your bathroom counter. His muscles flex with each touch of your fingers around his wounds, his fingers gripping the counter until his knuckles are white.

“I think it’d be best if you took this off.”

You’re awkwardly fiddling with the hem of his long sleeve shirt. He meets your gaze in the mirror and you feel small. Your voice is nearly a whisper, “I- I just can’t see.”

You stare at the floor as he pulls the shirt over his head. The gash is messy, but not deep enough to require stitches. Regardless, it’s covered in a thick layer of blood and sweat. You usher him to turn, and you see that the cut on his side is not better.

He can see the way your eyebrows screw together. “Is it that bad?” His voice has a touch of dread hidden in its tone. “I mean,” You glance at him.

“I don’t think you’ll need stitches, but you need to clean them or they’re gonna get infected.”

He swallows and nods. You walk to the shower, turning the knobs and adjusting the water to an appropriate and comfortable temperature. You clear your throat, “Here. I’ll, uh, I’ll let you…do your thing.”

You turn on your heels to give him privacy. As soon as your fingers touch the metallic surface of the doorknob, his hand catches your free hand, pulling gently. You turn toward him, meeting his eye. He pulls you closer and carefully pulls you into an embrace. You’re worried you’ll catch his wounds with your hands so you let them hover above his skin, not actually touching. But you want to.

You can feel his breath on your neck where he’s buried his face. He speaks into the sensitive skin, “Thank you. I don’t thank you enough.” That’s the moment you finally let your hands rest on his skin.

“You don’t have to thank me, Mike. I do it because I care about you.” You gently brush your fingers across his upper back, avoiding his cut. “Besides, you’d do it for me.”

He pulls himself from your neck, and you drop your hands from his back gently, expecting him to pull out of the embrace. But he stays close to you and only pulls back enough to see your face. Your cheeks are so hot. You can feel it and you know he can probably see it. He keeps his hands at your sides, just above your hips in a way that feels respectful. You allow yourself to put your hands on his forearms, thumbs resting in the bend of his elbows.

“Your water is gonna get cold.”

It’s a whisper as it comes out. He simply nods but doesn’t drop his hands from your sides. You smile shyly at him.

“Come with me.”

Your face is instantly hot and you’re suddenly hyper aware of the steam that’s building in the room and around the two of you. With your eyes wide and your mouth opening but no words coming out, he looks at you with hesitation, like he can’t believe the words actually left his mouth.

You can see the fear building on his expression the longer the silence drags on. Thoughts are racing through your head. You’d be lying if you said you’d never thought of this. You loved him. There’d always been a flutter in your stomach and a heat in your cheeks that let you know that perhaps it could be more than a friendship. You want that. But is this really how it’s going to happen?

You imagine the two of you going from childhood friends to becoming well acquainted with each other’s bodies in the span of one stressful night after not speaking for nearly a week. But there are no alarm bells going off in your head. You can’t bring yourself to feel ashamed.

So you kiss him. With his arms still around you and the heat from his bare chest creating a sense of protection from everything. With the whirl of water hitting the tub filling your ears. With the image of Abby sleeping soundly in your bedroom in your mind.

When you pull away, he looks at you with a sense of longing you’ve not seen on him before. You don’t want to say a word, not right now. It’ll be complicated. You know it will be. And you’ll have to have that conversation eventually, but right now the only thing you want is the heat of the water and the silk of his skin against yours.

So you finally unwrap yourself from him to begin working the buttons on your shirt. You’ve turned your brain off momentarily. Your fingers are on autopilot as they remove each article of clothing. If you allowed yourself to think, you’d surely turn in on yourself from the shame.

But when you’re finally bare and displayed in front of him, he doesn’t speak. He only looks with a fondness in his eyes that goes beyond a lustful stare. He slowly works his pants off his injured figure, wincing in the process, and soon he’s just as bare as you.

You’re shaking and cursing yourself internally for doing so. God, why were you shaking? You know he notices as he reaches his hand out to touch your arm lightly, grounding you in reality, and speaks, “Are you okay?”

You nod. More than okay.

The water feels heavenly as it beats against the skin of your back. Mike hobbles into the shower after you. He’s hesitant as you usher him to switch with you. It’s gonna hurt, but it’s necessary.

Your fingers lightly brush the wound on his back. He'd already been wincing slightly from the sting of the water, but your touch has him tensing immediately. You grab a cloth and dampen it enough to be effective in cleaning the general blood and grime from the afflicted wound.

The moment your cloth cover hand touches the  wound, he cries out through closed teeth, "Fucking- fuck!" His hands are planted against the shower wall in front of him. He bites his lip, holding in the whimpers of pain, trying his hardest not to wake Abby.

"Shh. It's okay, Mikey."

You let a gentle hand fall to his non injured side, brushing his skin. You're trying to sooth his tense and pained form as much as possible.

Soon enough you have both gashes cleaned up and ready to be bandaged. Mike turns to face you in the shower. His face still has a slight touch of discomfort to it, but he smiles weakly at you.

“Thank you.”

You smile back and nod. You’ve hardly said a word outside of attempting to sooth his pain with sweet words. The cold is starting to seep in from the tiny crack in the shower curtain. You can feel tiny goosebumps beginning to form on your skin. He frowns slightly and breaks the silence again.

“Did I cross a line…with this?”

Your head is already shaking before you can even comprehend the question. Like your body knows the answer before your mind does. “No, Mike.” He hesitates in his response, standing still and quiet before stepping towards you.

He seems to be able to move around a little better. You’re not sure if it’s the water cleaning the previously irritated wounds or if it’s the adrenaline pumping through his body. Either way you’re thankful as his hands are grabbing at your face and pulling you into another kiss.

It’s sloppier than the previous kiss you had shared, and he’s pushed you back so far that your back is hitting the cold tile of the shower wall. A fog has taken over your mind as you reach around his shoulders, digging your fingers into the plush muscle of his back.

The feeling of his tongue swiping into your mouth has sent you entirely mad. You’re whining slightly at the feeling and your eyes are half lidded. You can’t even think of the fact that this is your childhood best friend kissing you. Making you shudder. You can’t find it in you to care, you want him.

“Mikey…”

It’s a whispered moan as you let your head fall back against the tile, exposing the delicate skin of your neck to his wandering mouth.

Despite his injured form, his hands are tight around you. You'd thought of this before, in the heat of the night alone in your high school bedroom, hormones taking over completely.

You'd imagined the strong grip of his hands and the contrast of his plush lips. The bite of white teeth and soothing warmth of the hot water.

It’s absolutely divine, you think. He is divine. You know you’ll have dark bruises on your neck from the way he bites. You can’t help but run a hand through the hair on the back of his head and tug slightly. The moan is elicits rumbles through your neck and you want more.

You’re absolutely drunk off of the feeling of his body being this close to yours, nearly intertwined. You don’t even think when your nails swipe the cut on his back. That is until he lets out a yelp in the crook of your neck and promptly jump back.

You’re wide eyed immediately, realizing what you’d just done.

“I’m- I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Mike.”

You can still see the remnants of a wince on his face but he laughs. And you find yourself letting out a nervous laugh with him. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

You laugh again, holding the palm of your head to your forehead.

“We should probably get out. It’s getting cold.”

You nod.

━━━

You manage to sneak past Abby’s sleeping figure long enough to grab old clothes from your room. You find yourself thanking the universe than Abby is a heavy sleeper.

You’re also thankful that you hadn’t given Mike back an old t-shirt that he had left in your home years ago. He smiles at you when you hand it to him. He puts it on and examines the familiar print on the front.

“You’ve been holding this one hostage, huh?”

You gently nudge his shoulder and let out a chuckle. “Shut up.”

You’ve layered blankets in the middle of your living room floor. You speak as you lay pillows down on the makeshift palette. “Abby is sleeping peacefully, I’m not letting you drive home tonight, and there’s no way I’m letting you sleep on my tiny couch.”

You point exaggeratedly at the “bed” you’ve created for the two of you. “Ta-da.” You let yourself fall back onto the layers of pillows and blankets. It’s surprisingly cushioned. You sigh. “Actually not that bad, Mikey.”

He watches you with a smile from his seat on your couch. “You’ve really out done yourself.” He slides off the couch and into the layers of blankets and pillows next to you. He turns to rest on his uninjured side, facing you. It’s dark in the room, but you’ve left one lamp on. You can see his features glow under the warm light. You brush a hand on his cheek lightly.

“I’m glad you didn’t die tonight, Mike.”

He snickers, but you’re serious. The thought of his face on the news, just another tragedy at Freddy’s, haunts you. “I’m serious.”

He simply stares at you. “You’re not gonna go back there, right?” He closes his eyes and shakes his head slowly.

“I don’t know how I’m gonna take care of her. I can’t keep a job.”

Your thumb brushes at his cheek, soothing his tension. “I’ll help you. When have I ever left you alone in this?” You shiver as you think of the only time you’d walked out on him after that heated argument. You push the thought away and close your eyes.

“Really love you, Mike. You’re my best friend.”

You open your eyes hesitantly and you can see the shine of moisture in his. “Love you too.”

You place a kiss on his lips. It’s chaste, but full of a deep warmth. It leaves you wondering what comes next.

You tuck yourself in close to him.

“Goodnight, Mike.”

[stevesbipanic]

@steddiemas Day 7: Mall

You would think after the last mall burned down the town of Hawkins wouldn't erect another so quickly. But money is money and by December the mayor was happily cutting a big red ribbon in front of Galaxy Mall.

"I'm honestly surprised they didn't call it Starcourt 2," Robin giggled.

"Might as well call it the Titanic, I give it 4 months before I don't know an earthquake rips it to shreds," Steve replied, a smirk on his face.

Despite the trauma Steve and Robin had been forced to find work at the new mall, Family Video had shut down its standalone store in favour of one in the mall. Keith had unfortunately terminated their employment, citing that the new store was smaller and they could either choose one of them to stay or both go.

"You know, we have an awful habit of finding jobs with dumb outfits."

"Hey could be worse, we could have to wear the big red suit and have kids sit on us."

"Yeah, sucks to be that guy, hope they didn't hire a creep though."

Being an elf for Santa's Workshop had its perks , free candy canes, hanging out with Robin, and hot cocoa's every morning.

Santa was sweet with the kids, whoever it was seemed like a nice guy, he never rushed any of the kids, no babies cried for their photos and everyone left smiling.

Honestly, Steve wanted to meet the guy, but he always seemed to have left by the time Steve's changed, and he's already in the chair once Steve arrives.

He's decided to take matters into his own hands, he's a guy that gets what he wants and right now he wants that man, whoever he is.

So, he waited until they closed and jumped onto Santa's lap before he could get up. Santa's face turned a very festive shade of red.

"Now Santa's I've been a veryyyy good boy this year and you haven't even asked me what I want for Christmas."

Santa seemed to compose himself, a spark of mischief in his eyes, "And what is it that you want for Christmas little Stevie?"

"I'd love a kiss from Santa Clause."

Well Steve couldn't say he wasn't direct.

"Meet me out back in ten and I think you can get your present early."

Steve had never changed so fast, he'd told a confused Robin that she had to call her mom to pick her up today and dashed out the back door.

He didn't have to wait long before two strong hands took his face gently and pressed soft lips to his own. Steve melted into the kiss, not even feeling the bite of the early December air.

Eventually they pulled apart for air and Steve blinked open his eyes to find a very nervous looking Eddie Munson staring back at him.

"Eddie?"

"Bad Christmas present? Sorry I don't think they make receipts for kisses."

Steve just smiled, hoping it eased Eddie's nerves, "Can I still make a return?" Steve asked as he took Eddie's face in his hands and pulled him softly forward.

Best Christmas present ever.

Ao3

[weirdmageddon]

I'm taking the plunge because why not:

What are some headcanons regarding small, silly things that happened during the 3 year trips on the Golden Yard and Meteor?

oh lets go i love this sort of ask. no meteor crew stuff sorry im kinda tired but

on the prospitian ship:

the crocodiles are never recovering from that shit bro. un-stonks

alchemizing sessions. probably with mundane household devices like toothbrushes or something. patterned toilet paper. davesprite absolutely remakes the sbahjifier for himself but i think he also likes to hand draw them from time to time. also john and jade alchemizing bathing suits and going swimming on lolar and hanging with the turtles. casey can come too. floaties on casey

the sbahj canon diverges. so many sbahj in-jokes exclusive to the prospitian ship. unfortunately the retcon make it so none of this ever happens :(

he’d never say it but davesprite likes it when john and jade fall asleep on him doing whatever, it makes his presence feel wanted and appreciated by the people he sacrificed his self and humanhood for good for. sorry for immediately going into davesprite but good god is he tragic. oh yeah heres more. he’s still part dave and shares the same history with john and jade that alpha timeline dave does. john gave him his shades on his 13th birthday in december 2008, he sent john the con air bunny and jade a physical copy of sbahj as furries in the mail. he is identical to alpha dave in relation to his friends before the timeline splits off. dont forget that 4/13/2009 was also his first time meeting his online friends john and jade in person, even after 4 months chronologically of sburb grinding—nearly a year with all the time shenanigans—and going back to day 1, since john and jade were dead in his timeline

tries not to cry cries anyway but only when he knows theyre asleep. pov when the weight of everything suddenly hits you (you are an emotionally repressed 14 year old)

also because he’s fucking fluffy and absolutely knows it and probably thinks to himself “yeah this is the best possible use for these otherwise pointless breast feathers” and yall already know he craves cloth mother plus probably has nesting instincts

(source)

adding on to that also i think people forget sprites are actually fucking LONG and his wingspan is fucking huge he could be a pillow and a blanket at the same time

i wrote davesprite jade cuddles and john thinking about mushrooms and davesprite thinking about how they contribute to the ecnonony

^ john toked too hard on the lowas mushrooms by accident one time

it feels like pajama parties would be a common occurence just the vibes im getting. literally jade is seen sitting on a pile of squiddles and theres plushies fucking everywhere you know they got up to plushie mayhem. do you think they ever alchemized them. look how lived in that room is they all contributed something

jade resumes gardening :) but theres no sun :( but she alchemizes some plastic plants :D but its not the same :(

canonically the imps in johns house just gave up tormenting him and started hanging out and having snacks on movie night

PENIS!

imagine looking up into the sky and seeing a giant casey the size of a planet sleep. jade resizes stuff for fun like this just to introduce some novelty to their lives

this is something

davesprite has beavis and butthead do america (1996) in his collection somewhere in his apartment on lohac

yall theyre watching johns fuckin spongebob dvd box collection. you KNOW john owns the spongebob squarepants movie (2004). and the best thing is it brings all of them together without any of them objecting. they all love spongebob

when the episode jellyfish jam comes on johns like “wow, pretty much this exact scenario happened to me with the imps.” (arthur flashback sfx)

DAVESPRITE: yeah well you didnt have a giant sound system did you

jade warps dave’s bro’s sound system from lohac and sizes it up. they put on stadium rave and the entire fucking house shakes

[psychologeek]

we keep our love in a photograph (temporary name)

Martha Jones is 25 years old when she marries Jonathan Kent on a casual Tuesday evening. They have it on the common field, also used for Memorials, the yearly give-and-take market, and other important gatherings. 

It's only five months after Jonathan's dad passed away, and if she closes her eyes, she can see John crying his eyes out that night and proposing to her.

("I'm sorry, I promise I had something good," he said. "But just... life is unpredictable, you know? I couldn't take the risk I won't get the chance". 

His eyes were red, and his suit was wrinkled and stained with mud, but it didn't matter. 

"Ask me again in a week," she said. "After the first shock would be over. And I'll say yes." 

It's a promise and an opportunity - grief can push people into reckless reactions, and she won't judge him if that's the case.)

She's being ridden down the aisle on her dad's old tractor, feeling nuisance and excited and scared and hopeful. She wears a fancy wedding dress, but her legs lay in warm, solid boots.

(She's a practical woman, and it is December. There's no reason to get a useless pair of shoes just to get them destroyed. And besides, she always preferred reliable boots.)

Ranch legal name was Ronald McWilliams, but at this point even his mama doesn't call him that. Not since that miserable time during 3rd grade, when the unfortunate nickname of "McDonald's" was founded, then moved to "Burger king" in a poor attempt of resistance, before ending up as "Ranch" somewhere around 7th grade.

He's the best man, and as they raise a toast he makes a joke about how he always knew Johnny-Boy would end up as a farmer. Everyone laughs.

~

Martha is twenty seven, and when John puts his hands on her stomach just like THIS and sings softly, the baby kicks.

They repaint the nursery, and John's mom finds his old crib in the attic. She thinks she couldn't be happier. 

Martha Kent is thirty-one weeks pregnant, and life is good.

~

So, I'm not sure how to call this fic. I have some ideas, but for now this and future updates would be tagged as "miracle child au"

Feel free to add more, to rb, @ me, add your thoughts, ask questions, etc. I have 4/5 pieces written, at this moment (and probably more) before we even start getting Clark.

I'm looking for soundboards/alpha readers/ppl to brainstorm with.

@thisiswhereikeepdcthings @violent138 this is part of the au we talked about 😅

[everydayyoulovemeless]

Ulysses, Joshua, Dean, Christine, and Follows-Chalk Reactions To Destroy Dick December

➼ Word Count » 0.5k ➼ Warnings » MDNI ➼ Genre » Romantic, NSFW ➼ A/N » Actually kicking myself for adding quotes to this series

Ulysses will actually agree to this scarily fast. He's a very physical person and adores the idea of spending that much time with you sexually. Besides, he feels that this is the perfect time to try a few different things out on you, just to make your time together a tad more interesting. You'll find that he's very passionate when it comes to your pleasure and will fuck you in all sorts of places to ensure you beat this month, especially if you lost in November. 9/10, depends on how busy the month is, but he's putting in some crazy effort for the both of you.

"Shh, just lay back."

Joshua is not only disgusted with you but amazed you think he could actually do all that with how many burns he has on his body. The first thing he's doing in the month of December is baptizing you. The fact that you even tried to ask something of this from him during the month of the Lord's birth baffles him and he will instead be doing a challenge of his own where he goes over one story of the bible every day until the month's over. 0/10, it just leads to another month of no sex.

"No."

Dean will get drastically more flirtatious with you as the month goes on. He'll plan out romantic, candle-lit dinners at random locations in the Villa, tilt your head to meet his gaze and play all sorts of records he's managed to salvage just to get you into the mood. He has tons of experience and would love to demonstrate it for you during these 31 days. It's honestly the friendliest Dean has ever been throughout the entire year, he just likes getting laid. 11/10, he is an animal.

"My dear~ How could I say no to a request like that?"

Christine will just shrug when you mention it. Sure, you guys can try it. She's aware of her limits and already knows she won't pass at all.. but you will. She'll make sure of it. She's not that into overstimulation, but throughout this month, she'll be doing her best to ensure you actually pass this time. Besides, she likes women who don't quit, even when put under all sorts of pressure. 9/10, you said you were going to do it, didn't you? She's just making sure you keep your word.

"You're tired? Already? C'mon, we can get one more in for you."

Follows-Chalk understands the rules of this one a lot better than he did in November, however, he doesn't pass it as easily. He finds that after the 9th or 10th day, he gets incredibly exhausted. He still needs to go out and hunt for his tribe, especially during the colder months. 4/10, he tries but, logistically it just wouldn't work out.

"Sorry... I.. I'm too out of breath."

[sassycheesecake]

A/N: Chose the names for the kids completely random, also I was a horrible teenager and I still feel bad what my poor parents had to go through with me. Also, the Spanish translations are from my male best friend whose mother tongue is Spanish, I am sorry if it’s not correct, I’ll kick his ass if something is wrong 😂

TW: period blood

Tōru Oikawa is many things.

King of the court, former national Argentinian Setter, husband of a beautiful successful, confident woman he calls the love of his life and father of three children.

Now as a retired athlete, the former Setter trains all sorts of volleyball clubs in San Juan. From little kids trying out Volleyball for the first time to High Schoolers and even College students trying to go pro.

All these years, you raised the children mostly while your husband played volleyball professionally until he couldn’t do it anymore physically. With coming age, every athlete reaches their breaking point sometime.

Now working your dream job as a novel publisher about a romance novel you recently published, you’re in the United States, traveling and doing interviews about it.

The two of you always wanted a family.

After Tōru did the try outs and made it on Argentinian team, the the two of you celebrated with a lot of alcohol and passionate kisses and just like that, your first child was born 9 months later.

Just by the age of 22, Tōru is a father of a beautiful girl named Sofia, she was born in the bright early morning light in December.

As first time parents, there were ups and downs but you both pulled it through as a team.

During the years, you and Tōru brought two more lives into this world, one girl and one boy. Hikari and Thiago.

Sofia is now 13 years old, which means she is a teenager now. Hikari is 10, while Thiago, the youngest, is 7 years old.

Thiago does not always has it easy with two older sisters, especially since Sofia has had incredibly bad mood swings that she occasionally lets out on her siblings, causing fights to break out that the poor former retired pro Volleyball player has to break up lots of times.

Unfortunately the former Setter’s wife is out of the country for interviews and signing her books, leaving the man to run the household by himself.

During years of intensive training, raising three children, nothing could have prepared the brunette for this.

Puberty.

On Saturday morning, Tōru prepared breakfast for his kids when Sofia came out of her room with an annoyed expression.

No.

Pissed expression.

She sits down at the table without greeting her family and just begins to tear apart the waffles without eating them.

"What’s wrong with you?" Hikari asks in a curious voice.

"What’s wrong with your face." Sofia’s voice is full of venom, like her sister took away her iPod again without asking her first.

"Hey! Ya basta." Tōru scolds her with a frowned expression.

Sofia’s mean demeanor drops a little bit but the anger on her face still remains. She definitely inherited your angry expression that Tōru is still terrified of.

Thiago is just munching on his Lucky Charms cereal, ignoring his sisters’ antics like always.

While both daughters inherited your looks, Thiago looks like a solid copy of his father. The same hair, the same eyes, the same face.

When the Setter cleans up the mess from the cooking, an idea pops up in his head. Something he hasn’t done with his kids in quite a while due to their school activities and homework.

"Hey kids, how about we play some volleyball in the garden later on? We haven’t done that in a while." Tōru suggests.

The two younger Oikawas brighten up with excitement, whereas the oldest one barely reacts.

"Go got ready after breakfast, I'll clean everything up and Thiago, go get the volleyball in mum’s closet." Tōru tells his kids, a huge smile breaking out on his face when his youngest one quickly chows down the rest of his food before running upstairs to get dressed and fetch the volleyball out of his parents’ closet.

Hikari also finishes, setting her plate in the dish washer before going to her room as well, getting ready to play volleyball with her brother and her father.

Tōru looks at his daughter and she pushes her plate away, leaving the table without another word.

"Sofia, you know you can talk to me. Qué te preocupa?" The brunette calls out to her.

She doesn’t reply, just keeps on walking and closes the bathroom door with a slight slam.

With a deep sigh, Tōru finishes cleaning up, wishing his wife was here to help him figure his teenage daughter out.

All of sudden, he hears Hikari and Thiago running down the stairs, this time in sports attire instead of their pajamas.

Making a run for it, Hikari trips Thiago to be the first to arrive in the garden of the house.

With his face landing on the hardwood floor, he groans out loudly in pain before getting up and yelling after his sister.

Rubbing his temple in annoyance, Tōru makes his way to the bathroom to try and get his eldest daughter out to join the family fun.

Knocking gently on the door, the father begins to talk.

"Sofia? You okay?"

"Go away, dad!" She yells out behind the door and it sounds like she is scared but also deeply upset.

"Preciosa, what’s wrong? You okay?" He begins to get worried.

"It’s nothing, I just… I-I need mum for this." Sofia sounds embarrassed as she says it out loud.

Tōru pouts a little bit at that, his little girl choosing you over him.

"Maybe I can help you." The father offers.

"No! You can’t! Gosh, this is so embarrassing!" She shouts in reply.

Now Tōru is starting to freak out a little bit.

"Sofia, tell me what’s wrong or I will knock down this door, I am not kidding!"

No reply.

"There’s… there’s blood… in…my…" She stutters.

Pressing his ear against the door, he tries to listen what she is trying to say.

"Blood in your what?!" Tōru asks frantically.

Now both Oikawas are freaking out.

"I GOT MY PERIOD, YOU HAPPY?!" She finally snaps and yells.

It seems like time has stopped for Tōru Oikawa.

Why, why?!

Out of all the times, it happens now?! When you’re gone and he has to deal with it by himself?

'Deep breaths, Tōru. You can do this.'

"Nena, please open the door. I’ll try to help you in any way I can."

"You can’t! I read online that I need something called a pad or a tampon. Do we have any of that here?"

Tōru knows whenever you’re having your period, you keep your feminine products on top of the med cabinet, out of reach from prying eyes.

Hikari and Thiago return inside the house after a while, confused why their father hasn’t come outside to play yet.

"What’s going on with Sofia? Is she sick?" Thiago worriedly asks.

Hikari appears as well, more annoyed than worried like her little brother.

"Sofia, if you die, can I have your laptop?" She teases.

"No! When I get out of here, you’re done for, you little shrimp!" Sofia snaps back.

"Oy! No one is killing anyone! I will be right there, just leave your pa and your sister for a bit okay? I promise I will be there."

Tōru interferes, before Thiago becomes an only child, more likely foster child, since his wife will kill him as well.

Hikari and Thiago make their way outside again, with Thiago jumping on his sister’s back like a warhorse.

They both scream as they head outside again, while Tōru only shakes his head at their silliness.

"Mijita, check the top of the med cabinet."

"What? Why?" Sofia asks perplexed.

"You’ll find what you’re searching for."

After a few minutes of rustling and hearing movement, the father hears the rustling of plastic and the uncertainty in his daughter’s voice as she describes the products.

"You found everything?"

"Yes, thank you, pa…"

"De nada, linda. I’ll explain from the door how to use it."

Tōru does not move from the door, explains to his daughter step by step how to use the different kind of feminine hygiene products, also offering to buy her favorite candies and food tomorrow and even if Tōru can’t see it, Sofia has tears in her eyes, appreciating her father’s supportive nature so much.

When you return from your trip, Tōru is watching a volleyball game between England and France, eyes captivated by the screen.

He is sipping on a beer can, eyes on the tv, switching between cursing and cheering for the teams.

Entering through the entrance door, you spot the love of your life immediately.

"I haven’t seen you drink a beer since high school. Any special occasion?" You grin as you hug your husband from behind, your arms wrapped around his neck.

Pressing a chaste kiss against his temple, your brunette husband chuckles and intertwines one of your hands with his.

"Bienvenido de vuelta, ¿Cómo fue tu viaje?" Tōru asks while briefly looking at you over his shoulder.

"Amazing! The people are very nice and I was busy every single day. How was home?" You ask in return.

"Puro pánico y discusión entre hermanos." Your husband sighs while taking another sip of his beer.

"What do you mean?" You say in a very concerned voice, already bracing for the worst.

"Your daughter had a mental breakdown over her first period today."

"MY daughter?! She’s your daughter too, marido."

"ANYWAY, your amazing marido handled it, amore. They are all asleep, Sofia and I had a long and big talk, you don’t need to worry your pretty little head about anything else."

You smile brightly at him, remembering you have a little souvenir gift for him.

Quietly unzipping your suitcase, you change into the surprise you have for your husband.

"Tōru?" You quietly call out to him, leaning against the entry way of the living room, doing a sexy pose of the new black Victoria’s Secret lingerie you got from the States.

"Hm?" Looking over his shoulder once more, the brunette’s eyes almost pop out of their sockets, choking on the sip of beer he took, while taking your figure in.

"Ven y cógelo, mi capitán." You say in a seductive voice, walking towards the direction of your bed.

Jumping over the couch, the Setter follows you into your shared bedroom, full of excitement and horniness for his precious wife.

Translations:

Ya basta = stop it/cut it out

Qué te preocupa? = What’s wrong?/ What’s going on?

Mijita = my daughter

De nada = no problem

Bienvenido de vuelta, ¿Cómo fue tu viaje? = welcome home, how was your trip?

Puro pánico y discusión entre hermanos = pure panic and siblings fighting

Marido = husband

Ven y cógelo, mi capitán = come and get it, my captain

[bitterbutblue]

november 1998 (上)

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SORRY FOR THE LATE UPDATE CHAT it's been a longgg week and ill try to pre-write dec 1998 so it can come out next week because from oct 25 to nov 8 i will pretty much be dead on tumblr aside from reblogs because of coursework but after that i will be revived!!!!!!!

i feel like this is getting slightly messy im sorry i am ill and mildly burnt out writers block butim going o try my best

my inbox is always open for requests!! and i love getting messages from u guys so please do not hesitate to ask and i will respond as soon as i can <3

this chapter is split in 2 parts! november 1998 (下) and december 1998 will be released quite far apart icl ill try my best though...

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Slide, roll, up and down- five, six, seven, eight.

The meticulous eyes of the trainers have her feeling weak in the knees, hawks with their eyes peeled for prey to stalk on. She wants to collapse to the floor, her feet are blistered and her knees are sore. She can feel her entire body slowly fading as she moves but she can't stop because she's so close. The last time she was in this position she gave in, collapsing onto the ground and panting. She wasn't good enough, she never would be. The trainers just sighed and told her she wasn't good enough and that she never would be good enough. The last time she was in this position, she swore she'd work hard. She'd work until her knees bruised and her muscles ached if it meant doing better than before. If it meant for them to finally see her in the light she wishes they could see her in.

She holds the ending pose, a bright smile on her face but everything that held her body together was threatening to break down in that very moment as her chest heaves and she offers them a polite bow. She strides out of the room with a put-together, confident aura that had the other people auditioning staring and whispering, saying that she will most likely pass the auditions, that she was the one they need to look out for. But she's fighting for her life to not collapse until she's outside the building, until she's away from everyone's eyes.

The second she exits with her bag in hand, she drops to the ground. Uncontrolled sobs flowing out as she buries her head in her hands. Everything hurt, her legs ached like never before and her lungs felt like they were collapsing. She could barely hear the sound of her own brother calling out her name as she dug her fingers into her scalp, head buried in her arms.

"Robin, Robin can you hear me?"

It felt horrible, feeling the sky and all its weight on your shoulders is a horrible feeling. She wants to melt into the ground, dissolve into the pebbles and rocks that are scattered beneath her feet. She feels someone grab onto her shoulders, feels someone pull her into their arms and she feels a familiar thump along with the scent of cigarette smoke. Three squeezes on her shoulder, an attempt to keep her grounded. Holding her tight, an attempt to stop her from trembling like a bomb about to explode.

These breakdowns have been happening more frequently, the worst one being the one right after her dad had to disappear and sent her to live with Sunday in a country too far away but also too close to home. A country she tried to dissociate herself from for the longest time, a country where you were in. Back to the city she left you in.

"Sunday?"

He just holds her tightly.

He's been smoking again, she can smell the tobacco on his jacket and breath, the scent that has her nose crinkling in disgust but she can't blame him anymore.

"Are you okay?"

His voice is as soft as always, a twinge of hoarseness coating his words now. He sounds older, as if he had aged a good twenty years in the span of six months.

"No."

She can't bring herself to lie because she's tired of lying, tired of telling people she's okay and that she's alright when she feels like breaking down all the time. Sunday could only swallow back the lump in his throat as he lets out a soft sigh, holding her close.

"It's going to be okay."

It's not. Neither of them would be okay.

Sunday offers to take her to a convenience store after, driving down the streets in his second-hand car that he got for cheap that is probably older than he is. Robin leans her head against the car window, feeling the slight bumps on the road, watching the city fade slowly into greenery and nature as they drive up the hill back to where they live. The familiar yellow and green sign comes into view as the car slows down, and she sighs as she gets out of the car slowly.

"C'mon, let's get something good." Sunday wraps his arm around her shoulder as they walk through the door. The little bell near the door dings and she was so lost in thought she didn't even realise that there were in fact 2 people at the counter and both of them quieted down the second she walked in with Sunday. She didn't notice as she walked down towards the drinks section to get her puffergoat milk. As she walks back to find Sunday near the counter, her eyes widen slightly. Stelle and you were sitting close, a little too close for her liking and she feels this pang of.. what is it? The same feeling she felt when she first saw you on television, on the news, everywhere. Jealousy. But not of you this time, of Stelle. Stelle must've noticed her staring because she quickly pulls her hand that was resting on your knee away and clears her throat. You had a light blush on your cheeks as you quickly stood up.

"Is that all?" You ask with a slightly forced smile on your face. She looks over at Sunday, who smiles at you with a genuine smile and not one of his old forced corporate smiles.

"Yes, that's all. Thanks, Y/n."

She hates how you look at him with a softer look, a gentle smile on your face that you have yet to look at her with. But to be fair she doesn't deserve that smile and she never will, especially not what she did to you. Sunday slides a bill across the counter and you quickly give the change back.

"You doing alright?"

She stands in the corner, fully aware of how herself and Stelle are purposefully trying super hard not to look at each other and it is incredibly awkward.

"I'm good."

She hears you click your tongue.

"I saw on the news about your family, I'm sorry."

You never told her that. She feels an ache in her chest as she looks down at her battered trainers, scuffed from hours and hours of training as she fidgets with the bracelet on her wrist.

"Don't be. Congrats on your win, by the way. War Dance at fifteen is an accomplishment you should be proud of."

"Hah, yeah, thanks."

She hears the cash register close, and her brother clearing his throat.

"I'll see you around, Y/n."

"You too, take care."

She doesn't look up when Sunday walks up to her, and just follows his footsteps out the door. She can hear the quiet whispers between Stelle and you and it bothers her how intimate the two of you are, how close you are.

Why is she so bothered?

Perhaps the truth is you were her first and only good friend. It was hard to make friends in a country like Penacony where she was the outsider, the one who 'got into the school because of her parent's money', the one who's always sitting alone. She never fit in well there, despite her best attempts to appear put together in front of you over text and email, she was breaking down slowly. Now, she's back and in the same position as before. Alone. Yes, she had friends, but how many of them actually cared for her? How many of them actually wanted to talk to her her and wanted to know her and her dreams and aspirations, instead of only talking to her so that they could date her for her looks? She sees the way some of them eye her, the way they whisper about her behind her back. Aventurine was a nice guy, but him and his friend group are so tight already that she is always just sitting in the corner and forcefully laughing along with them.

She misses you.

She misses the feeling of having a friend she could always rely on, who she always knew had her back even though they were oceans apart. Now she's left with those memories ruined, only haunting her each day as she has ruined all the good she had in her life.

Of course she did.

She didn't even realise they had arrived back into their home until she hears the sound of the car door closing. Upon arriving back into her own room, it really settles in how alone she is. Their family all split apart so they wouldn't be found or put each other in danger, only living with her brother in a small run-down apartment building at the edge of the city. A room with nothing of her own, a city she no longer finds comfort in. She crawls into bed, not even caring that it's 4pm in the afternoon because god she's just so exhausted. Physically from the auditions, mentally from everything else.

By the time she wakes up, the sky had darkened with only traces of the stars and moon illuminating her room.

4:32.

A full twelve hours later she sits in her bed, staring out the window and wondering what you were doing.

You throw your glasses down, rubbing your eyes as you let out a tired groan. The words on the textbook were barely coherent at that point and you just wanted to go to bed but the idea of giving up before you finished this final topic fills you with such intense stress it makes you feel like clawing yourself out of your skin. It's a trapped feeling, you want to break down but if you break down that's wasting your time.

You finally put your pen down, hand shaking as you finally let out a sigh you hadn't realised you were holding in. You check your clock.

4:33.

You rub at your eyes again, feeling your heavy eyelids threatening to shut when you feel your pager buzz. Looking down, you mumble 'what the fuck' to yourself as look down.

A series of numbers.

You tilt your head to the side, picking up your cell and dialling the number.

"Hello?"

"Y/n?"

The familiar but groggy voice has you feeling a leap in your chest.

"Stelle?"

"Yeah."

"Why are you calling me on this number?"

"It's a burner."

"What happened?"

You hear the shaky sigh, the tightening of the throat.

"Can I come over?"

"Yeah, of course." You lick your lips, worry filling you up to the brim as you lean forward on your desk, looking out the window. "Meet me outside?"

"Mhm."

Ten minutes later, you outside in the cold in nothing but pajamas and a coat, she shows up. Her eyes are red, cheeks tearstained. She's wearing not nearly enough clothes and she's holding a duffel bag.

She's holding a duffel bag.

Oh god.

"Stelle, oh my goodness, are you okay?" You whisper-shout as you run up to her, cupping her cheeks as she drops the bag. You yelp out quietly as you feel her pull you into a tight hug.

"My mom found out."

"Huh?"

Stelle begins trembling in your arms, and you swallow back the worry as you pull away to look her in the eyes. You see how her eyes are welling up with tears again and your heart leaps up to your throat in worry.

"What happened?"

She takes in a shaky breath, looking down as she squeezes your hand.

"I- I'm not straight. I'm a lesbian."

Oh.

Stelle takes your silence the wrong way, she takes the way you stared at her the wrong way. She begins to back away, a look of hurt evident on her face.

"What? Are you upset about that too?"

"No, no!" You quickly clear your throat, heart racing for no reason in particular. "Stelle, thank you for telling me, really. I- do you need a place to stay?"

She nods, sniffling as she wipes away at a stray tear.

"Please."

Your mom is going to kill you tomorrow morning if she finds out, but before you even think twice you open the back door and let her in. She follows you like a lost puppy up to your room. She looks so exhausted and tired, and you're worried thinking about what happened that lead her to use a burner phone at 4 in the morning. You tell her to sleep in your bed, and you find yourself curling up on the couch- unable to bring yourself to sleep in the same bed as her. The thought haunts you, your parent not accepting you, never loving you- because you know it's partly coming true for you. Your mom has always had just a singular set goal for you and if you don't follow along, it's bound to fall apart. You just bring your knees up to your chest as you hug the couch cushion tightly, closing your eyes as you let out a shaky breath.

"Y/n?"

You flinch violently, squinting as the lights are turned on and you see your mom standing there, bleary-eyed but visibly upset.

"What are you doing?"

It's exhausting. All of it. You can feel yourself breaking down as you pick up the cushion, swallowing back the lump that has formed in your throat but to your surprise your mom isn't actually mad. She sits down next to you, stiff and awkward but worry seeps through her and you can feel it coating you too.

"Why are you on the couch."

You sigh.

"Stelle is in my room. Her mom kicked her out."

You were surprised when your mom didn't say anything, when she didn't get mad or start shouting at you for letting a friend in so late. Instead, she just nods.

"Does she need anything?"

You try not to let your surprise show as you look over at her, and she's not looking at you but you see the concerned look on her face as she looks out the window.

"Just somewhere to stay."

She nods.

"Okay. Sleep in my room tonight."

You are too tired to disagree tonight, just following her to her room and getting into bed. She doesn't follow, switching off the lights and closing the door to her room as you lay in her stiff bed. It's uncomfortable, rock hard and hurts your back but it's the safest you've felt in a long time as you bury yourself into the pillows and close your eyes. It's been a long month, and it's about to get longer with exam season coming up next month. A sound of a phone buzzing has you groaning, blinking groggily as you search through your pocket for the phone you never took out.

"Hello?"

There is only silence on the other end.

"Who is this?"

The phone eventually cuts off and you curse angrily, tossing it to the side before burying yourself into the bed once more.

Please, you just wanted to finally get some sleep.

Robin stares at her phone, swallowing as she stares at the remains of the call that had just happened. Her heartbeat echoes in her ears as she puts her head in her hands, taking in the last of your voice. Your voice when speaking to her with no malice or venom, pain or hurt. It was all she wanted for now.