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bamfkeeper · 19 days ago

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All I Want. | K.W

summary: It's so busy, you miss Kurt.

warnings: GN!reader | Fluff | Brief mention of mutant treatment

a/n: I had a handful of requests/ideas I'm going to try to do. I love a lot of them so I'll do my best to pick the ideas that were mentioned more than once. For now here's this little drabble, not long but something cute. Not edited ignore mistakes. ;; wc: 1.3k

The holidays turned the mansion into a whirlwind of endless activity and festive energy.

Every moment seemed filled with purpose as you moved from one seasonal task to another - mixing cookie dough in the warm kitchen while trying to keep prying blue hands away from the dough, building snowmen in the crisp winter air with the younglings, organizing decorations from dusty attic boxes, and carefully hanging twinkling lights along the hallways. The mansion buzzed with non-stop holiday preparations from sunrise to sunset, and while you had help from the other older mutants, the majority of the planning and decorating fell on your shoulders.

Between the constant motion of holiday tasks and the infectious excitement in the air, you found yourself working well past your usual limits, your body finally signaling its need for rest as evening approached.

The cold winter nights grew more and more frigid, nothing brought you more comfort than sinking into the plush embrace of the living room couch, wrapping your hands around a steaming mug of hot cocoa topped with a generous swirl of whipped cream and a sprinkle of crushed peppermint and cocoa shavings. The warmth of the dozen bamfs that gathered around you didn’t go unnoticed, creating a cozy cuddle pile with you. Their curiosity and playful nature showed as they cautiously stretched forward, tiny tongues darting out to steal tastes of the sweet cream and minty chocolate garnish that crowned your drink.

Kurt's presence had grown increasingly sparse lately. The holiday season always brought an overwhelming surge of responsibilities for the X-Men, as they encountered a significant increase in cases of abandoned mutants during this time of year. The harsh winter conditions made their missions even more critical, keeping the team constantly engaged in rescue operations.

The majority of mutants they discovered were victims of abuse or deliberately abandoned, left to face the bitter elements alone. The numerous children they found never failed to make your heart ache, young souls who had just begun to manifest their powers and were cast aside by those who should have protected them.

The weight of his absence pressed heavily on your heart.

This year had been particularly difficult, as your relationship with Kurt had been flourishing, you grew closer than you had been with anyone and finally felt comfortable in your own skin. Yet these precious moments of togetherness remained frustratingly elusive. The memory of his enthusiastic promises to share traditional recipes from his homeland lingered in your mind, but his overwhelming schedule had prevented that from happening.

Night after lonely night, you found yourself lying awake, wondering when he might finally return with enough time to dedicate to your shared moments together.

You hated feeling so selfish, but you also couldn't help it.

A gentle hand brushed against your cheek as one of the mischievous bamfs scrambled its way up to perch on your shoulder, its small tongue darting out to playfully lick away the spots of whipped cream that had collected on your lip and the tip of your nose. "H-Hey, hey, I think you've had enough sugar, all of you," you spoke with mild exasperation to the gathering of bamfs surrounding you, their eager eyes fixed on your drink as they continued their persistent attempts to steal a taste.

The sheer volume of cookies, candy canes, and other sweets they managed to consume on a daily basis had become a source of concern, and each night you found yourself anxiously waiting, fully expecting to discover them all suffering from severe sugar-induced stomach aches.

Yet their bellies were made of steel, the hellfire bellowing inside them scorching everything that hit their stomachs.

After what felt like an eternity of coaxing and gentle persuasion, you finally managed to get all of the little bamfs settled into their beds for the night. The last one had been particularly resistant, but eventually succumbed to sleep.

Exhausted from the long day, you made your way to the bathroom to complete your nightly routine. You brushed your teeth and washed your face, taking comfort in these familiar actions, none of it took much effort and was all muscle memory. When you finished, you reached for the light switch, flicking it off before wearily making your way out of the bathroom.

Your body felt heavy with fatigue as you climbed into bed, your mind already drifting toward the promise of sleep. Just as you were about to fall asleep, a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around your waist. The unexpected contact sent a jolt of adrenaline through your system, instantly dispelling any trace of drowsiness from your body as all your muscles grew tight. On instinct, you threw your elbow backward in a defensive motion, connecting with something solid behind you.

"Ach - Scheiße!" Kurt's pained voice rang out as he quickly brought his hand up to cradle his nose. The sudden commotion caused several of the bamfs to materialize in your lap, their small forms bristling with protective energy. Their eyes glowed intensely in the darkness as they positioned themselves defensively with their backs puffed up, but upon recognizing Kurt, their aggressive posturing immediately melted away.

"Kurt?? Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry," you muttered apologetically, your hand instinctively reaching out through the darkness to find his where it was pressed against his face. Your heart was still racing from the startle. "You completely caught me off guard there...I didn't even sense you in the room at all."

"Heh...it's alright, liebling...I should have let you know I returned from the mission early. I wanted to surprise you but...you had already gone to sleep." He gently rubbed his nose where you had accidentally struck him, before carefully taking your outstretched hand in his and leaning closer to study your face in the dim light. "You seem completely drained of energy, ja? Was it a particularly demanding day?" His brow furrowed with concern, causing his usually neat hair to fall forward in loose curls that partially obscured his worried expression.

Your hand drifted upward of its own accord to brush through his disheveled curls, trying to smooth them back into place. "Yeah I...I had a busy day..." you admitted with a tired sigh.

"Sprechen Sie mit mir." Kurt spoke gently, his voice a soothing whisper as he drew you close against his body. The winter season had blessed him with an exceptionally thick coat, his usual short fur now grown into a luxurious winter covering that was so soft and warm. You nestled deeper into his embrace, his typically velvet-like fuzz had grown into longer, softer strands that were just long enough to twirl playfully around your fingers, particularly abundant across his chest where it formed gentle curls.

His tail moved with gentle affection against your leg as he carefully positioned you both for comfort, creating a cozy space where you could share your stories. With interest reflecting in his eyes, Kurt settled in to hear about your day. He listened intently as you recounted your baking experience with the bamfs, playing outside with the children, and decorating like an expert. You were pretty proud of yourself.

"Ah, I figured you made those cookies... they are absolutely perfect, my liebe. I might have snuck a few when I got back," he smiled warmly, his prominent fangs poking out endearingly as he spoke. His gentle, playful tease made your cheeks flush with warmth and you instinctively shifted even closer to his comforting presence.

"Did you happen to see the special batch I made just for you?" you asked, looking up at him expectantly.

"Ja...I must confess…I ate them all," he replied with a hint of satisfaction in his voice, his lips brushing your forehead as he leaned down to kiss your skin.

"You didn't save a single one??" You looked up at him with a playful smirk, which he couldn't help but mirror on his own face.

"Nein... they were specifically made for me, weren't they? And I am absolutely not sharing," he declared with mock possessiveness. He loved your cookies, and whenever you bakes him anything, he tended to be pretty protective over the things you made.

"Greedy..." You murmured, making Kurt lean down again, his chest rumbling softly as his voice became heavy with drowsiness.

"Stets."

Thanks for reading~

*BAMF*

Dividers by @/strangergraphics | Images found on Pinterest

#kurt wagner #nightcrawler #kurt wagner x reader #nightcrawler x reader #xmen #x men #x men 97 #kurt wagner x you #nightcrawler x you #nightcrawler oneshot #kurt wagner oneshot #🎠my works

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cailinsblog · 2 months ago

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Mistletoe Magic-Luke hughes

Luke hughes x reader

Masterlist

Snow fell softly in the small New Jersey town, blanketing the streets and trees in a sparkling layer of white. The air was crisp, and the smell of pine lingered from the Christmas trees lining the shop windows. Luke Hughes and his girlfriend, Y/N, had decided it was the perfect day for a winter stroll, wrapped up in warm coats and scarves, ready to enjoy the festive charm of the season.

Y/N adjusted her knitted hat, pulling it snug over her ears as she looked up at Luke, who was grinning down at her, his cheeks already rosy from the cold. "You look cozy," Luke teased, tugging gently on her scarf. "Are you sure you're not going to overheat?"

Y/N laughed, her breath forming little clouds in the cold air. "Says the guy who's always freezing," she shot back. "If anything, you'll be begging to borrow my scarf by the time we’re done."

Luke chuckled, sliding his gloved hand into hers as they began their walk down the snow-dusted path. The town looked like a scene straight out of a Christmas movie—twinkling lights strung between lamp posts, wreaths hanging on every door, and a light dusting of snow covering everything in sight. It was magical.

They wandered past the ice rink where families skated hand in hand, stopping briefly to watch as children giggled and stumbled on the ice. Y/N smiled, leaning into Luke. "Doesn't this just make you feel like a kid again?" she asked softly, her eyes sparkling as she took in the scene.

Luke nodded, his gaze fixed on her. "Yeah," he said, his voice warm. "But honestly, I think being with you makes everything feel more magical."

Y/N blushed, nudging him playfully. "You're such a sap."

He grinned, squeezing her hand. "Only for you."

As they continued their walk, they came across a small market set up in the town square. Booths were lined with handmade ornaments, holiday treats, and steaming cups of hot cocoa. The smell of cinnamon and roasted chestnuts filled the air, and Y/N couldn’t help but stop at a stand selling festive cookies.

“Want one?” she asked, holding up a snowflake-shaped sugar cookie dusted with glittery icing.

Luke nodded, but before she could pay, he quickly pulled out his wallet. “I’ve got it,” he said, handing the vendor a few bills.

“Such a gentleman,” Y/N teased, taking a bite of the cookie and holding it up to Luke for him to taste. He leaned in, taking a bite and grinning as the sweetness hit his tongue.

"Not bad," he said, licking a stray crumb from his lip. "But I know something that’ll taste even better."

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? What’s that?"

Luke smirked but didn’t answer, instead tugging her gently toward a nearby booth selling hot chocolate. They each ordered a cup, topped with whipped cream and tiny marshmallows. The warmth of the drink seeped through their gloves as they stood together, sipping and watching the snow continue to fall.

“This is perfect,” Y/N murmured, leaning against Luke as they shared a quiet moment. The world around them seemed to fade, leaving just the two of them in their little bubble of happiness.

Luke glanced up, his eyes lighting up as he noticed something hanging from a nearby tree. “Hey,” he said, nudging Y/N. “Come here for a second.”

She followed his gaze, her brow furrowing slightly as she tried to figure out what he was looking at. When they reached the spot, Luke stopped and pointed up. “Look.”

Y/N’s eyes widened as she saw the sprig of mistletoe hanging above them, tied with a festive red ribbon. She laughed softly, looking back at Luke. “Did you plan this?” she asked, her tone teasing.

Luke grinned, his cheeks turning a deeper shade of pink—not just from the cold. “Maybe,” he admitted, stepping closer to her. “But if I did, would you really mind?”

Y/N shook her head, her heart fluttering as she looked up into his warm, brown eyes. “Not one bit.”

Luke didn’t waste another second. He leaned in, his hands gently cradling her face as he pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was soft and sweet, the kind that made the world around them melt away. The snow continued to fall, landing softly on their hair and shoulders, but neither of them noticed. All that mattered was the moment they were sharing.

When they finally pulled away, Y/N smiled up at him, her eyes sparkling with happiness. “That was pretty perfect,” she said softly.

Luke chuckled, brushing a stray flake of snow from her cheek. “I’ve been waiting for the right moment all day,” he admitted. “And I couldn’t let a mistletoe moment pass us by.”

“Well,” Y/N said, looping her arms around his neck, “I’m glad you didn’t.”

They stood there for a while longer, basking in the magic of the moment before deciding to head back to the warmth of their home. As they walked hand in hand, Luke couldn’t help but steal glances at Y/N, his heart swelling with love.

Later that evening, they curled up on the couch with a blanket draped over them, the soft glow of the Christmas tree lighting up the room. Y/N rested her head on Luke’s chest, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his sweater.

“You know,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, “today might just be my favorite day ever.”

Luke smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Mine too,” he said. “And there’s plenty more where that came from.”

With the snow still falling outside and the warmth of their love filling the room, it was clear that this was just the beginning of a holiday season they’d never forget.

Tags: @mialikeshockey

#hockey #nhl #nhl x reader #fanfic #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes blurb #luke hughes smut #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #new jersey devils x reader #new jersey devils #nhl fluff #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl hockey #hughes brothers

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pricelessemotion · 2 years ago

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Never really over | S.H.

summary: [4.2k] you and steve fall apart, then fall back together.

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings: so much angst, best friends to exes to lovers, language, gratuitous taylor swift references

a/n: exes to lovers is one of my fave tropes so i hope i did it justice! reader is vaguely asian-coded by accident (though there shouldn’t be any direct references to r's appearance!) lmao happy AAPI heritage month to all my fellow asians

masterlist

The day after your breakup, Steve shows up at your house with a bag of takeout and a six-pack. He kicks off his shoes at the front door while you’re in the kitchen, already grabbing napkins and chopsticks. The light on the floral rice cooker on the counter just turned from cooking to keep warm. Steve is nothing, if not right on time.

To most people, the situation would seem peculiar. But you and Steve were best friends before your break up and you had promised that you would stay best friends after it.

You settle in on opposite sides of the worn-down loveseat, a rerun of Golden Girls playing on the television. You’re just about to ask him if he remembered to get extra sauce for the chow mein when Steve, seemingly anticipating your question, silently hands you a small cylindrical container.

The night goes on as it usually would, with Steve lamenting Keith’s tyranny and Dustin’s antics. He helps you clean up when you’re done, scooping the leftover rice into a Tupperware container saying I gotta get myself one of these, it’s so convenient! He even does the dishes, washing while you dry, never commenting on the fact that you have a perfectly good dishwasher that you never use.

Once he’s standing in the entryway, shoes back on and keys in hand, he instinctively leans in for a chaste kiss goodbye.

You flinch, turning your cheek at the last second. The moment becomes a sobering reminder as to why you decided to break up in the first place. Instinct over time starts to feel like routine. Routine over time starts to feel like a chore. Another thing that you have to cross off your to-do list.

For a while, it was grounding. It felt good to be normal. Normal felt like warmth, like coming in out of the freezing cold and cozying up next to a blazing fire. But you knew from experience that the cold always comes back. As the days drew darker, the once roaring hearth settled into a pile of ashes. Being grounded can feel like being tied down. It’s only natural to want to break free.

You didn’t realize freedom would feel like this.

“Right.” Steve huffs out awkwardly, swinging his car keys around his index finger. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He shuffles out the door while you offer a weak goodbye. You know you’re letting the cold in by watching him as he gets into his car. You do it anyway.

–

Steve and Dustin have taken to visiting you while you’re on shift at the coffee shop. You’re not sure why. The arcade next door seems much more fitted to their shared interests, but they still come and visit you all the same. Usually, when you come upon them, they’re standing on the other side of the till having a whispered conversation that dies the moment they notice you’re there.

“A latte for me, and hot cocoa for the kid.” Steve says, ruffling the younger boy's hair.

“I’m fourteen!”

“Oh, I’m sorry Mr. Maturity. Did you want a coffee? I’m sure our girl over here has some great recommendations.”

Dustin only grumbles in response, muttering insults under his breath. Steve refuses your offer to comp their drinks, paying and dropping his change in the tip jar.

You set both drinks down on the counter when they’re done. One is a simple steaming cup. The other is piled high with whipped cream and sprinkles, decorated with a tiny plastic snowman left over from the holidays.

“Thank you,” Steve says, leaning against the counter. “Y’know, you’re my most favorite barista in the whole world.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m the only barista you know, but you’re welcome.”

“So, would you be interested in movie night tomorrow?”

“Wow, let me think.” You feign contemplation, sarcasm dripping from every word. “I’ll have to check my schedule. I have a meeting with some venture capitalists but I might be able to squeeze you in.”

“It’s a date.”

“So… you guys are back together?” Dustin darts a confused glance between the both of you, his irises going back and forth as if watching a ping-pong match.

“No!” You and Steve both blurt out at the same time. Then you both take a moment to look at each other as if to say, I know why I said no but why are you saying no?

Is it really over?

Dustin, as observant and tactless as ever, gives off a little shrug. You mutter something about needing to go to the back to do inventory. As you’re walking away, you hear Steve say something that sounds a lot like Nice going, doofus!

–

Dustin answers the door when you ring the bell. Steve’s house has the usual suspects for movie night. Max and El are cuddled up together on the floor, practically laying on top of each other. Robin and Nancy are on the loveseat to the left, so wrapped up in each other that they barely even register your arrival. You presume that the sounds coming from the kitchen are Mike, Will, and Lucas, no doubt making one too many bowls of popcorn in the microwave.

Steve is sitting, his arm draped over the back of the couch. Before, there would’ve been no questions as to where you would sit. The empty couch cushion practically had your name on it. You would’ve already bounded across the room and snuggled up to the boy that felt like home.

You search the room for another option, but come up empty. Unless you want to pointedly avoid sitting next to him by crashing on the floor with the kids, which would undoubtedly draw attention to the very thing you want to ignore.

Taking a seat next to Steve, you toe the line between platonic distance and romantic distance.

“What’s on tonight?” You ask no one in particular.

“The Princess Bride.” Lucas replies, coming from the kitchen with a bowl of fresh popcorn.

He barely gets a chance to put it down before the three other boys tumble onto the floor and begin shoveling the savory snack into their mouths. Max and El whine about their lack of civility, yelling at them for having spilled popcorn on the floor before the movie has even started.

“Ah, that’s my favorite!”

“I know.” Steve finally speaks up beside you.

“We’ve only seen it like a million times.” Max says, rolling her eyes and resting her head on El’s shoulder.

“Hey! Little shits who eat my food and use me as a taxi service don’t get to complain about my movie choices.”

“Whatever, Steve.” The redhead remarks, with an unmistakable fondness in her voice.

You settle into your seat. The January cold has seeped into the house and, despite the heating being on full blast, you’re freezing. Steve notices, tugging the comforter in his lap over your frame, enveloping you in a warmth you didn’t realize you missed so much. You murmur a quiet thank you that you’re almost sure goes unheard until he turns, giving you a small smile before returning his attention to the screen.

In order to properly share the blanket, you have to scoot in even closer. You tell yourself that it’s a perfectly reasonable platonic distance, that you used to do this all the time before you were dating. If Steve is experiencing even a fraction of your inner turmoil, he doesn’t show it. He just keeps looking ahead, paying far too much attention to the film. The palm that would usually come to rest upon your shoulder stays gripping the back of the couch.

Sometime after Buttercup and Wesley enter the forbidden forest, you fall asleep.

It’s hard to make out anything through the dense fog. The trees around you loom large, foliage so lush and thick that it blocks out the sky, making it unclear if it’s day or night. The only light source comes from an oil lamp.

The lamp casts a shadow over the face of the person holding it, emphasizing his strong brow and straight nose. You go to move toward Steve, but you can’t. You’re stuck. Ankle deep in sand, coarse and with the consistency of molasses, that slowly creeps up higher and higher. It takes you a moment to realize; the sand isn’t getting higher, you’re getting lower.

You’re sinking.

Desperately, you begin grasping at anything and everything that might get you out. It’s futile. The more you move, the further you fall. You’re waist-deep now. Steve is still standing there, stone-faced, oil lamp flickering. He turns, walking into the fog and taking the light with him.

You open your mouth, wanting to scream. Needing to scream. But only one word echoes throughout. It does nothing to stop Steve’s retreating figure.

Stay.

“Hey,” Steve is tugging on the sleeve of your sweater. “Wake up.”

The fog dissipates. Feeling slowly returns to your limbs. The first thing you realize is that you fell asleep on Steve’s shoulder. The second thing you realize is that, due to your impromptu nap, the distance between the two of you is practically nonexistent. You recoil, sliding yourself as far away from him as you can. Steve flinches at the sudden movement.

“Are you okay?” His voice is soft and comforting, like a childhood blanket that you can’t sleep without. “It seemed like you were having a bad dream.”

You blink your eyes furiously, trying to shake the sinking feeling that has settled deep into your stomach.

“Where is everyone?” You ask, avoiding his question. The once lively living room is now empty. Remnants of movie night surround you in the form of stray pieces of popcorn and a nearly empty tub of Red Vines.

“They all went home about twenty minutes ago.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You seemed so comfortable. I didn’t wanna wake you.” He shrugs, saying the next words gently. “Are you having nightmares again?”

Before, you would tell him yes. You always talked to Steve about your nightmares. Most of the time he was there to witness them firsthand, waking up to your shouting and thrashing. Some nights, he would be able to coax you back to sleep with soothing words and tender touches. Other nights, he would stay up with you for hours, talking about nothing. The next day, the deep bags etched under his eyes would serve as another reminder of just how tiring you could be.

“I’m fine.” You wipe the corner of your mouth, cringing at the slight dampness you find there. Great. Not only did you fall asleep on Steve but you also drooled on him. “I think it’s time for me to head out.”

Leaping from the couch, you get to the foyer in record time. Your shoes are already halfway on before Steve appears, standing in between you and the door.

“You don’t have to. You know the guest room is always made up for you if you want it.” He bargains.

“I— I have to go. I’m sorry. Goodnight Steve.”

“Please, you’re tired. At least let me drive you.” He’s practically pleading, already moving to grab his car keys.

“Just let me go, Steve!” Your outburst echoes throughout the empty house.

Steve takes a step back away from you. “I’m sorry.”

Regret washes over you like a tidal wave. You can feel yourself being ripped under the current. You curse yourself, not for drowning, but for dragging Steve down with you.

“No, don’t apologize. Fuck, I’m sorry. I just—”

“Have to go?” He supplies.

He sounds dejected like this is another battle with you that he’s already resigned himself to losing. You fumble through another apology, another goodbye.

You don’t dare to look behind you as you make your way to your car. It isn’t until you’re halfway down your street that you spare a glance at your rear-view mirror. Steve is still standing there, the door wide open.

You don’t know why you keep having dreams where you ask Steve to stay.

You’re the one who is always leaving.

—

“She was totally flirting with you!” You scream whisper, keeping in mind that the diner is mostly empty aside from the loyal patrons that come in every weekday for a hearty serving of beef and potatoes.

Steve showed up to the coffee shop today, sans Dustin, asking if you’d like to grab a bite to eat after your shift. You obliged, hoping to make up for your outburst from the other night. He still hasn’t mentioned it. For your sake, you hope that he won’t.

“No, she wasn’t.” You thought Steve’s obliviousness when it came to romance only extended to you. Apparently, you were wrong because he was completely ignoring the way that the waitress was batting her eyelashes at him.

“Yes, she was!” You take a fry from the basket and Steve pushes his strawberry milkshake toward you, already knowing that you were going to subject him to the gross combination and he might as well get it over with. “Y’know, if you wanted to ask her out you could. Don’t let me hold you back.”

“You’re not holding me back. Anyways, isn’t it weird, having your ex-girlfriend be your wingman?”

“I’m still your best friend. Besides, you totally helped me out with Brandon so I just thought I’d return the favor.”

“What are you talking about?” Steve asks, causing you to furrow your brow at him. Despite having loved him for a long time and having known him for even longer, his inability to read a room knows no bounds.

“Last week at Family Video?” You utter the words with slow precision, but recognition fails to make its way across Steve’s face. “Brandon Clayborn asked you for horror movie recommendations and you sent him to me.”

“And he asked you out?” Steve gapes at you from over the rim of his milkshake. The idea of grabbing the glass and slogging the pink confection at him crosses your mind, but instead, you clench your fists at your side.

“Is that so unbelievable?” At your response, Steve’s brows pinch together. He toys with the wrapping paper of his straw, folding it over and over again.

“And what did you say?”

“I said yes.”

“Oh.” Steve finally stops fiddling with the piece of paper. It’s shredded to pieces in a pile in front of him. He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out the bulging leather wallet. “I’ll be right back.”

With that, Steve slides out of the booth and walks up to the counter. The giggles of the waitress can be heard throughout the diner. You turn toward the window so that you don’t have to see her scrawl her number on the receipt, and you catch your muddled reflection. You don’t know if you look like you’ve seen a ghost or if you’ve become one.

–

Due to unforeseen circumstances, your second date with Brandon had to be rescheduled. A literal rain check. He’d sputtered out numerous apologies over the crackling phone line, saying how the picnic he had planned didn’t account for a torrential downpour. You promised him that it was fine, that you didn’t even wanna leave the house in this weather. You didn’t think anyone would want to leave the house in this weather, which is why you grew shocked at the sound of the doorbell ringing.

Then you promptly remember that this is Hawkins and that anyone or anything could be behind that door. Grabbing the old wooden bat you keep under the couch for emergencies, you inch toward the door. The frantic ringing of the bell matches the beat of your heart. Peering through the peephole, you sigh in both relief and frustration before flinging the door open.

“Are you insane?!” You practically scream at the soaking wet boy. “You scared the shit outta me.”

Steve stands in the threshold, shaking his head like a dog would to get all the water out. You flinch as the droplets inevitably fall on you. The fine mist and wind that he’s brought in with him chill you to the bone.

“Sorry.” He smiles sheepishly.

“How did you even manage to get this wet in the twenty feet from the street to the porch?” You ask, peering behind him to look for the familiar maroon vehicle. It isn’t there.

“I walked here.”

You balk at him. Sure, Steve has been known to act recklessly from time to time, but never without reason. Instead of taking the time to berate him for being so stupid, you take one look at the soggy shivering boy and shut the door, turning on your heel towards your bedroom. You don’t need to look behind you to know that he’s following you.

“C’mon, you’re gonna catch a cold if you stay in those wet clothes.”

You rummage through your drawers, managing to find a t-shirt and sweatpants that you had stolen from him long ago. Now is as good a time as any to give it back, right? Stuffing the items in your arm, you thrust them into Steve’s hands and direct him to the bathroom. He doesn’t need direction. He knows the floorplan of your house just like he knows you–all too well.

While Steve is in the bathroom, you go to shut the drawers that you had left open in the rush to find him something to wear. The bottom drawer has always had a problem, getting stuck at the most inopportune moments. Lifting it just a little, you slam the drawer back into place which causes the contents on top of your dresser to shake with the force. The silver picture frame falls on its face and you go to place it right side up.

It’s a photograph of the two of you from last summer. Robin had pointed the camera at you and at the very last second Steve grabbed you and placed a sloppy kiss on your cheek, causing you to squeal in delight. The memory stings. You almost want to put it face down again so that you don’t have to be reminded of what once was. Instead, you’re interrupted by the sound of a lock turning and quiet footfalls on carpeted floors.

The moment Steve steps into your bedroom, you’re drenched in nostalgia. It’s been months since you’ve seen him like this–standing in his pajamas in your bedroom. It’s moments like this that are the hardest. The ones where you can feel how everything and nothing has changed. It feels like relief and restriction.

You realize you’re still standing in front of the dresser and go to sit on your bed. You need to put space between you and Steve. He has this insane gravitational pull and you know that if you stay around him like this for too long, you’ll end up back in his orbit.

He steps cautiously around the room like he’s afraid of stepping on a landmine. One wrong move and everything could blow up. Standing in front of the dresser, he takes the dreaded picture frame into his hands. He’s still using a towel to dry his hair when he finally speaks.

“It’s a good picture.” He says, simply. The pads of his thumbs wipe away the layer of dust that coats your sunbleached faces.

“It is.” You manage to choke out. “Why are you here, Steve?”

He places the picture frame back down on the dresser. It’s perfectly angled towards you. The ghost of your smiling face taunting you in your own bedroom.

“It’s funny, y’know?” Steve lets out a mirthless laugh.

“What is?”

“We broke up and the only person I wanna talk about it with is you.”

All of the air has been sucked out of the room. Steve has always been good at taking your breath away.

“I mean, I get it. I get why we broke up. I do.” He lets out a deep breath before continuing on, not giving you a chance to interrupt. “Except, I don’t. I can’t wrap my head around how one day we were fine and the next day we weren’t. I know that I’m not good enough for you–I’ve always known that. I guess I just wanna know when you finally figured it out.”

His words make you ache. A tightness blooms in your chest and spreads all the way down your arms to your trembling fingertips. You want so badly to reach out to him. He’s on the other side of the room but he might as well be on the other side of the world. You don’t know how to bridge the ravine that you’ve put between the two of you. You know for him you’d make the leap, uncaring of the abyss below. The thought scares you so much that your fists tangle in your bedsheets, hoping for something to keep you from falling back in.

“The last thing I wanted was for you to feel like you weren’t good enough for me. You’ve always been good enough, Steve.”

You can tell from the shake of his head that he doesn’t believe you.

“I thought that maybe you just needed a little space, a little time. Then I have to watch you go on dates and move on like it’s easy. Like the fact that we’re not together anymore doesn’t eat you up inside.”

“It’s not easy! It’s killing me!” Tears collect in your eyes, blurring your vision. “I don’t know why I can’t just be happy with you. I want to be happy with you.”

“What are you so afraid of?” Steve begs, his question punctuated by a boom of thunder and a flash of lightning.

You found solace in the eye of the storm. Once the storm passed, you didn’t know what to do with the wreckage. Calm didn’t provide comfort. Instead, it only reminded you that there was likely another storm to come. Steve has always been better at picking up the pieces and patching things up. You didn’t want to become just another thing he had to fix. So, you pushed him away.

He still came back.

This time he brought the storm with him.

“I’m afraid that the minute I actually enjoy everything, it’ll all get taken away from me.” You confess, roughly wiping away your tears.

Steve crosses the room and kneels in front of you. His hair is still slightly damp, a stray strand hanging in front of his forehead. You brush it out of the way and he catches your wrist, placing a kiss in the palm of your hand.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He murmurs, lips still brushing your skin. He says it like a promise. You wish the words were tangible, that you could close your fist around them and hold them close. “Tell me what I can do to fix it.”

The words simultaneously endear and exasperate you. Here is this boy who loves you, sitting in front of you telling you to let him love you. Here you are, about to tell him that he can’t.

“What if you can’t fix it, Steve? What if I’m unfixable?”

He doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he takes both of your hands in his, rubbing his thumbs over your knuckles.

“Then I’ll still love you anyway.”

Steve looks up and the clouds part. You’ve been so caught up in your doom and gloom, that you’d forgotten what it felt like to see the light of day. You lean down, closing your eyes, pressing your forehead to his.

“Why?” The question comes out watery and wanting.

“I can’t help it.” He breathes out.

You understand the feeling.

You bridge the gap, uncaring of the abyss that lies below. You’d fall through eternity if it meant you got to do it with him. His lips feel exactly like you remember them–like home. He kisses soft and slow, hands anchored at your hips as if to prevent you from floating away. When you break apart, both of you gasping for air, there’s uncertainty in his eyes. It fades away as soon as you lean back on the bed, pulling at his sleeves and dragging him with you.

The night is composed of soft apologies and even softer sighs, accompanied by the din of rain against the roof. It isn’t until far into the night that the storm finally subsides, leaving the pavement to glow in the morning sun.

Waking up next to Steve is a revelation. You don’t know how you ever survived without it. He’s all sleepy smiles and tired eyes, drowsily pulling you closer to him. Resting your head on his chest, you’re soothed by the rhythmic thump of his beating heart.

“Y’know, you didn’t have to walk in the rain just to say that you wanna get back together. You’re so dramatic.” You joke, hoping that it isn’t too soon to start poking fun.

His chest rumbles with laughter, the reverberations quelling your fears.

“In my defense, it wasn’t raining when I started walking.” He says, voice still thick with sleep. “Besides, you love it.”

You smile contentedly to yourself, not offering up a response besides a hum of agreement. He’s right. You do love him. Rain or shine.

likes are appreciated, comments and reblogs are cherished ♥️

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington blurb #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington fandom #steve harrington fanfic #mimi wrote ✍️#steve harrington fic #stranger things

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poledancingdinos · 10 days ago

Text

You're My Person

Pairing: Captain Syverson X OFC (1st person POV)

Word Count: 1139

Warnings: Domestic Fluff

Taglist: @summersong69 @amberangel112 @utterlyhopeful-fics @marantha @kebabgirl67 @littleone65 @omgkatinka @luclittlepond @elizabetharegina @enchantedbytomandhenry @narnianaos @geralts-yenn @peaches1958 @avengersfan25 @sillyrabbit81 @lena-banena @mrsevans90 @confessionbrain-writings @eclecticfashionbookszipper @rosecentury @shellyshellshell @winter2112rose @secretdream2 @toooldforobsessions @wa-ni @valacircareads @missemrose @liecastillo @identity2212

Masterlist

“Ow! Motherfucker!” I rubbed my head where I’d hit it on the kitchen cabinets. Yes, I hit my forehead on the eye-level kitchen cabinets. No, it unfortunately wasn’t the first time. Yes, I did foresee it happening again.

The washing machine buzzed, giving me an excuse to escape the kitchen and leave behind the sink full of dirty dishes. If I didn’t immediately hang the laundry on the line, I would definitely forget to do it until the next time I tried to start a load and found the washer full of moldy clothing.

When I came back in, nearly tripping over Aika who darted outside right as I opened the door, I found Sy leaning with one shoulder on the kitchen archway. Instinctively, I checked his feet to make sure he wasn’t leaving dirty footprints on the freshly mopped floors.

“Hey, did you want me to get you something before I start the dishes?”

It wasn’t unusual for him to ask me to get him a drink when he came in with grease-covered hands. Having a mini-fridge—or even a second full-sized fridge—in the garage might be something to consider in the future. The extra freezer space would not go to waste with Sy’s appetite resembling that of a starved animal.

“Actually, I need ya to come downstairs with me.”

Confused, I set the empty basket on the table and followed without protest. I was expecting him to show me some new problem that would need to be fixed in the bathroom we were renovating, but instead he caught hold of my wrist and led me the opposite way towards our lounge area.

Sy pointed at a spot in the corner of the sectional couch where all my fluffy blankets were waiting.

“Sit.”

He waited until I obeyed before pointing to a steaming mug of hot chocolate that I hadn’t noticed was waiting for me on the table.

“Drink.”

Finally, he handed over the TV remote.

“Watch. No more work, no more chores, I don’t want ya back upstairs until you’re singin’ about pineapples and not tellin’ the truth.”

“Pineapples aren’t in the theme song,” I corrected without thinking, taking the remote.

“Blueberries then.”

“Those aren’t in the song either.”

To his credit, Sy fixed me with a sharp look but kept the annoyance out of his tone. “You’re doin’ it again.”

I was. I’d been picking fights over the most insignificant things all day—sometimes even with inanimate objects. In my defense though, carefully clearing the jammed paper didn’t keep the printer from eating more pages but threatening to throw it off the roof sure as hell seemed to finally make it run smoothly.

With a sigh, I let my head drop on the back of the couch. “You’re right, I’m sorry. Thank you for all this. You can go back to what you were doing.”

Making myself comfortable with one blanket around my shoulders and another over my lap—a necessity even at the height of summer since the whole house was on Sy temperature—I picked up the hot chocolate from the table. I gently blew on the hot milk before taking a small sip. Sy had made it just how I like it with lots of cocoa, sugar and a tiny pinch of salt instead of the pre-made mix.

“What’s wrong?” I asked when I noticed Sy hadn’t moved. He stood in the same spot, arms crossed over his chest and frowning at the ground.

“Nothin’,” Sy scratched his scruffy cheek before putting his hands in his pockets, “I’m just realizin’ I have no clue what your favorite show is even about.”

Sy wasn’t really the binge-watching type. Actually, he wasn’t really the watching type period. Occasionally he would hear about a new show or movie that he specifically wanted to watch but other than that he normally did his own thing when I watched my shows. That was why we had our main living room upstairs and a movie area downstairs.

“I’ve explained it before, haven’t I?” I took another sip of my hot chocolate, humming in satisfaction.

“Sort of,” he shrugged. “You said it was a guy pretendin’ to be a psychic but I never understood why the boxset had a pineapple on it.”

“The lead actor ad-libbed a line with a random prop pineapple in the pilot and the showrunners ran with it. The blueberry is from a line in the second season and it refers to their little blue hatchback.”

There were numerous magnets on the fridge with silly quotes from the show or fanart which was how Sy knew about the fruity references but not the actual plot of the show. I also had a habit of humming the theme song around the house when I was feeling particularly perky.

“Huh.” There was another moment of silence before Sy seemed to shake off whatever thoughts were going through his head. “You need me to put a DVD in for ya?”

“No, I think I’ll stream it while it’s available. That way I don’t need to get out of my blanket burrito to change seasons.”

With a nod, Sy kissed the top of my head and left me to pick out an episode. I didn’t really know which one to watch so I found a number generator on my phone and had it pick one for me. I wasn’t currently doing a rewatch so there was no reason to follow any particular order.

To my surprise, Sy returned with snacks and a beer right as I prepared to press play. He had swapped out of his work clothes for a pair of grey sweats and an old army shirt.

“I thought you had stuff you wanted to finish in the garage?”

He dropped by my side with a groan. “Changin’ the breaks can wait until next weekend. I’ll sit with you for the evenin’ and take care of the rest of the chores tomorrow.”

“What about supper?”

“Food will be here in an hour.” One large arm wrapped around my shoulders, pulling me into his side. “Now, what do I gotta know before we start?”

Nervous energy passed through me and I had to actively try to contain my excitement.

“There’s nothing specific to know for this episode but in general? We never skip the opening or ending credits, I will sing them every time and if you see the hidden pineapple you have to point it out.”

That seemed to pique Sy’s interest. If anything, it would give him something to focus on if he got bored halfway through which I really hoped wouldn’t happen. He set a bowl of popcorn on his lap and nodded for me to start the episode. Smiling to myself, I sank deeper into his side and leaned my head on Sy’s shoulder.

I was feeling better already.

#captain syverson #captain syverson fic #captain syverson fanfiction #captain syverson fanfic #cpt syverson #cpt syverson fic #cpt syverson fanfiction #henry cavill #cpt syverson fanfic

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yelenasdiary · 11 days ago

Note

Angstmas, Kate x fem reader, Kate’s seasonal depression is especially bad this holiday season due to her mom being in jail. She’s already struggling but is trying to hold it together Christmas morning until she spills some hot coco and kinda just has a meltdown. Reader is a sweetheart.

Spilt Emotions

Pairing: Kate Bishop x Fem! Reader

Summary: Kate has a breakdown on Christmas morning & you’re there to assure her it’s all going to be okay.

Angst & Fluff

Warnings: None, if I missed any, please let me know! | 1.1K

AC: Thank you for sending this! I hope you enjoy! x

Holiday Special Masterlist

A modest tree with mismatched ornaments stood in the corner of the small apartment Kate shared with you. The apartment covered with festive spirit and cheerful decorations didn’t keep Kate’s mind from reminding her this Christmas was different. Kate had always loved Christmas, being with family, the food, the way New York City lit up in all different colors, the cozy moments she spent with Lucky and the laughter she shared with friends but this year the holiday brought a chill that was colder than the snow outside.

With her mother, Eleanor, in jail and her father sadly deceased, Kate felt a hollow ache in her chest and no matter how much she tried to hide it, you noticed how her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. It was the little things that you noticed, usually Kate would spend some time on the rooftop, admiring the city lights through the falling snowflakes, or how she couldn’t keep her excitement for Christmas traditions tucked away for much longer.

You didn’t want to push her, you respected she might need some space and hoping that with time, the joy that was buried deep inside the archer would burst and allow her to enjoy the magic of Christmas once again.

On Christmas morning when the sun beamed through the clouds and the city was peacefully quiet, you woke up early. Kate still sleeping beside you, almost hugging the covers to block out any cold, crisp air from touching her. You smiled softly at how adorable she looked, like a child clinging to their favorite plushie. You slipped out of bed and tiptoed into the kitchen, wanting to surprise her with some hot cocoa to wake her up too.

Soon enough, the smell of hot coco filled the air and you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you placed two tiny marshmallows on top of Kate’s drink. “Katie” you whispered softly, wanting to slowly wake her. Kate stirred, groaning when she felt the slightest bit of cold air touch her.

“I made you a hot coca baby” you added, carefully getting back into bed, sitting with your legs crossed and the two festive mugs in your hands. Kate’s eyes still heavy with sleep, peeped open for a moment before she offered a weak smile, “thanks, babe” she murmured, trying to keep her eyes open as she slowly began to sit up. “You’re welcome darling” you replied as she wrapped her hands around the mug, feeling the heat on her bare skin.

“Merry Christmas” you added, placing a gentle kiss on her cheek. As Kate turned her head to face you, her mug clipped yours, making the two drinks splash together as the liquid seeped into the bedding.

“Shit!” Kate exclaimed, her voice in a panic as she quickly placed her mug on the bedside table.

“Babe, it’s okay, I’ll wash the sheets today” you replied, also placing your mug on your bedside table. The weight of the past few weeks came crashing down on the Archer without a warning, her eyes filled with tears, and she kicked the covers to the end of the bed. “I can’t do this!” She snapped, her voice breaking as her tears began to fall.

“Everything is just….its…fucked!” She added. Her heart pounding as she stood up, her feet touching the cold floor. “This isn’t how things are supposed to be!” Kate continued, pacing back and forth.

“Baby, it’s okay, let it out” you replied softly as you watched her endlessly try to make sense of her life now.

“I’ve been trying so hard to keep it together, I mean, it’s Christmas! I thought I would be okay by now” she sobbed, wiping the tears from her cheeks, “but every time I think about mom and everything that happened…..I just –“ she paused, finally coming to a stop as she looked at you. Without a second thought, you stood up and wandered over to her, wrapping your arms around her as she crashed into you.

“It’s okay Kate, you miss her and that’s more than okay” you said, rubbing your hand up and down her back. “You don’t have to keep anything built up darling, this is your first Christmas without her and it’s been a big year for you” you added.

“I just…I miss her so much” she sobbed into your shoulder, “I just wanted to a normal Christmas like we always did but it feels like everything is falling apart instead” she added. You held her tighter as she cried, feeling your heart ache for her. “I know it’s not the same but why don’t we go visit her today?” You suggested.

Kate pulled back, looking at you with her wet, red eyes, “you’d be okay with that?” She asked.

“Of course, baby, she’s your mother. I don’t want you to feel like you have to deal with any of this by yourself. I will always be here, forever”

Kate leaned back into your arms, feeling the warmth of your body against her as she took a shaky breath, “I would like that” she replied. “I know what she did will never be okay…but I miss her” she added.

“I know, love” you replied softly.

Gradually, Kate’s sobs became quiet, her heart still heavy from weeks of pushing her feelings down but she stayed hugging you tightly. The spilt coca now completely forgotten about while you continued to rub her back, “I love you” she whispered, her voice still shaky but stronger than moments before.

“I love you too” you replied, placing a kiss on the top of her head. “You’re so much stronger than you realize, you know?” You added as she pulled back once more. Gently, you cupped her face, wiping her fallen tears, “I want you to remember that you can always count on me, I don’t want you feel like you have to be strong and put together for my sake, okay?”

Kate nodded lightly, “I’m sorry” she said in an almost whisper.

“You have nothing to be sorry about Katherine” you assured her. Kate playfully rolled her eyes, “don’t call me that, it’s odd” she said with a light chuckle.

“But it brought back that beautiful smile so I’m not sorry about it this time” you smiled softly before kissing her deeply. The holiday may not be the fairy tale Kate was hoping for but she knew that with you by her side, a different Christmas tradition wouldn’t be as hard as she thought.

“Can I make us a fresh hot coca?” She asked as you kindly brushed a lock of her long dark hair behind her ear, “you make the coca and I’ll strip the bed” you smiled softly.

With that Kate, with Lucky following close behind her, wandered into the kitchen feeling okay about the holidays as a soft smile tugged at her lips.

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#yelenasdiary asks #noturlondonboy #fanfiction #marvel #Kate bishop #Kate Bishop x reader #Kate Bishop x you #hailee steinfeld #christmas

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amethystarachnid · 1 month ago

Text

CHRISTMAS PROPOSAL

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

ᯓ★ Pairing: Anthony “Tony” E. Stark x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL Holiday special

ᯓ★ Request: Fantastic event 😍 I want to make a request for Fem reader + Tony Stark, please! "Christmas morning surprise", breakfast in bed made by Tony, a surprise gift: Tony proposing the reader and saying the most beautiful things and cuddling by the tree later, drinking hot cocoa 😍 (@heygoodgirly)

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 4.8k

ᯓ★ Summary: Tony Stark has never been one for romantic things but for you, oh, for you he'd become the most romantic man on earth. And that's exactly what he's trying to be as he gets ready to pop the question

ᯓ★ TW(s): fluff fluff fluff

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The morning light spills softly through the gaps in the curtains, painting warm streaks of gold across the bedroom. You’re cocooned in the blankets, your face nestled into the pillow, completely oblivious to the world. For once, there’s no sound of the whirring gadgets or the mechanical hum of some early-morning project Tony’s working on in his lab. The quiet feels suspicious. But you don’t wake, not yet.

Downstairs, the man himself is pacing. Stark Tower—or what’s now become a semi-permanent Stark-and-You Tower—is unusually serene, save for the sound of Tony muttering to himself. In the kitchen, an array of utensils clutters the countertop. Pots, pans, and a suspiciously stained cutting board bear evidence of an attempt at cooking. Actual cooking. Not JARVIS ordering the latest Michelin-starred meal.

“Okay, okay, just… flip it gently,” Tony says under his breath, staring down a pan like it’s a volatile science experiment. His hair is a mess, and there’s a smear of flour on his cheek that he hasn’t noticed yet. “How hard can eggs be? They’re just tiny little things. People do this every day.”

The spatula makes contact, but predictably, the omelet doesn't cooperate. It folds awkwardly, and a piece flops onto the burner. Tony groans, his free hand tugging at his hair.

“Yeah, this is going great. Real Gordon Ramsay stuff here.” His voice is dripping with sarcasm as he glares at the breakfast carnage. He pauses, tapping his fingers against the counter, before grabbing another egg and cracking it into a fresh bowl. “She better appreciate this. Slaving away like a 1950s housewife… minus the pearls. Or the misogyny.”

JARVIS chimes in unprompted. “Might I suggest using a lower heat setting, sir? You appear to be—”

“No, no, no. I got this, J. Do not swoop in with your fancy AI advice. This is a Tony Stark original, and I’ll be damned if technology fixes my… whatever this is.”

“As you wish,” JARVIS replies smoothly, the slightest hint of amusement in his tone.

Tony manages to plate something passable, a mixture of eggs, toast, and fruit that—miraculously—looks edible. He surveys his handiwork with a critical eye, then lets out a huff. “If this doesn’t scream ‘romantic Christmas breakfast,’ I don’t know what does.”

There’s a small box tucked into the pocket of his sweatpants, a box that has no business being near sizzling pans or flour-covered counters. He knows better. He’s Tony Stark, after all. Precision is his thing—normally. But today? He feels like a live wire, energy sparking unpredictably under his skin.

“Okay. Breakfast first. Then the thing. Easy.” He picks up the tray and heads for the stairs, deliberately ignoring the persistent flutter in his chest.

The bedroom is still quiet when he pushes the door open with his shoulder, the tray balanced precariously in his hands. You’re exactly where he left you, sprawled under the covers with one arm flung lazily over your head. The sight makes his lips quirk into a crooked smile, the kind he reserves for moments no one else gets to see.

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” he says, his voice low but teasing. “Or should I say Sleeping Beast? You snore, you know.”

You stir slightly, mumbling something incoherent, and he snickers. “I’ll take that as a ‘good morning, Tony. Thanks for the breakfast-in-bed surprise. You’re the best boyfriend in the known universe.’” He sets the tray down on the nightstand and leans over to press a kiss to your temple. “I know, I know. I’m amazing.”

You blink awake slowly, your eyes adjusting to the soft light. “What…?” Your voice is thick with sleep, and you prop yourself up on one elbow, squinting at him. “What are you doing?”

“Delivering five-star cuisine,” he says, gesturing grandly at the tray. “Emphasis on the ‘five.’ I wouldn’t check the Yelp reviews if I were you.”

Your gaze shifts to the tray, and a small laugh escapes your lips. “You… made this?”

“Shockingly, yes. With these very hands.” He holds them up for emphasis. “And I only started one tiny grease fire, which I think is a personal record.”

You sit up more fully now, the blankets pooling around your waist. “Why? What’s the occasion?”

Tony shrugs, leaning casually against the bedpost, though there’s nothing casual about the way his heart thuds at your question. “Can’t a guy just do something nice for his girlfriend without getting the third degree? It’s Christmas, in case you forgot. Figured I’d play Santa and spoil you a little.”

Your smile softens, and you reach for the coffee mug on the tray. “You’re full of surprises, Stark.”

“That’s what they say,” he replies, sitting on the edge of the bed and watching as you take a sip of the coffee. He’s relieved when you don’t grimace. Coffee, at least, is one thing he knows he can’t mess up.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” you say, picking up a fork and spearing a piece of toast.

“Of course I did,” he retorts. “You’re lucky I didn’t bring out a violinist for ambiance. Thought about it. Decided it was too much.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet, here you are. Voluntarily waking up next to me every day. Who’s the ridiculous one now?”

There’s a comfortable rhythm to your banter, one that makes the rest of the world fade away. He watches you eat, his expression softening when you’re not looking. Every now and then, you catch him staring, and he brushes it off with a quick quip or a self-deprecating joke, but the truth is, he’s just… captivated.

He’s done a lot of big things in his life. Saved the world, built a legacy, even cheated death a couple of times. But this—sitting here with you, on a lazy Christmas morning—is one of those rare moments that feels monumental in its simplicity.

Tony taps his fingers against his knee, his mind racing even as he tries to keep the conversation light. He’s thinking about the box in his pocket, about the way your eyes will light up when you see what’s inside. He’s thinking about how terrifying and exhilarating it is to want something so deeply, to want you forever.

“So, on a scale of one to ten,” he says, breaking the silence, “how would you rate the masterpiece I just served you? Be honest. But remember, I have an ego to protect.”

You tilt your head, pretending to deliberate. “Hmm… solid eight. Maybe eight-point-five.”

“Eight-point-five?” he echoes, feigning offense. “What, did the toast offend you?”

“It’s a little… uneven,” you tease, holding up a slightly charred edge. “But I’ll let it slide.”

He rolls his eyes dramatically. “Unbelievable. This is the thanks I get.”

Leaning closer, you kiss the corner of his mouth, a soft and lingering gesture that immediately shuts him up. When you pull back, your grin is mischievous. “Better?”

“Marginally,” he mutters, though his smirk gives him away.

You settle back against the pillows, the tray balanced carefully on your lap. Tony leans on one arm, his gaze drifting over your face as you savor the last bites of breakfast. He’s nervous, though he’d never admit it out loud. Not yet. He wants to do this right—to give you a memory you’ll carry with you forever. But more than that, he wants you to know just how much you mean to him, even if he’s not always the best at saying it.

For now, though, he keeps it light, keeps it normal. There’s time. At least, he hopes there’s time.

“By the way,” he says, his voice tinged with mock seriousness, “you’re washing the dishes.”

Your laughter fills the room, and for a moment, all his nerves fade away.

The warmth of the room is a cocoon against the chill of the winter morning outside, and you’re tangled in each other, limbs intertwined and bodies pressed close beneath the covers. The breakfast tray is forgotten, pushed aside to make room for this: the kind of quiet intimacy that feels like a luxury. Tony’s arm is draped over your waist, his thumb absently brushing along the curve of your hip as if he’s memorizing the feel of you.

His voice is soft when he speaks, carrying none of the usual bravado. “Y’know, if I could freeze time, I’d keep us here. Just like this.”

You hum contentedly, your cheek resting against his chest, where the steady thrum of his heartbeat feels like a secret melody. “I wouldn’t mind that,” you murmur, tilting your face to meet his gaze. His brown eyes are warm and intent, studying you like you’re a puzzle he never wants to solve.

The comfortable silence stretches, broken only by the faint sound of the city beyond the windows. But then, a sudden thought strikes you, and you sit up slightly, your hair mussed from sleep and your eyes sparkling with realization.

“Wait,” you say, breaking the spell. “We still have to open gifts. It’s Christmas morning, remember?”

Tony groans dramatically, flopping back against the pillows as though you’ve just suggested something truly exhausting. “Oh, come on, can’t we stay in bed for a few more hours? Maybe the gifts will open themselves.”

You laugh, wriggling free from his hold, but he’s faster. Before you can fully escape, his arms wrap around you, pulling you back down onto the mattress. You let out a playful squeal, but he doesn’t relent.

“Tony!” you protest, though you’re grinning. “The gifts—”

“Can wait,” he says firmly, his hands settling at your waist to keep you firmly in place. His voice softens, turning almost serious as his eyes meet yours. “Besides, I’ve got something more important right here.”

His tone makes you pause, your smile faltering for just a second as you study him. There’s something in his expression—a mix of vulnerability and determination—that you don’t see often. It sends a flutter through your chest, though you can’t quite put your finger on why.

“More important than presents?” you tease, trying to lighten the mood. “That doesn’t sound like the Tony Stark I know.”

“The Tony Stark you know has layers,” he quips, though his usual sarcasm feels gentler now, like a shield he’s only half-raising. His hands find yours, lacing your fingers together, and he takes a deep breath before speaking again.

“Look, I had this whole plan,” he begins, his words coming quickly now, like he’s worried he might lose his nerve. “Candles, music, maybe even fireworks—because, y’know, I’m me. But then I realized… all of that stuff doesn’t really matter, does it?”

You blink at him, your brows knitting together in confusion. “Tony, what are you—?”

“Shh,” he cuts you off gently, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Let me do this, okay? Just… let me get it out before I explode or short-circuit or something.”

Your heart is racing now, a mix of anticipation and disbelief. You nod, unable to find your voice.

“I’ve been a lot of things in my life,” he says, his gaze unwavering. “A genius, a billionaire, a total pain in the ass. But with you, it’s different. You make me want to be better. Hell, you make me better. And it’s not just the big stuff—though saving the world is a hell of a lot easier when I know you’re waiting for me to come home. It’s the little things, too. The way you laugh at my stupid jokes, or how you somehow manage to make this place feel like an actual home.”

His voice wavers slightly, and he swallows hard, his grip on your hands tightening. “I used to think I had everything I needed. The cars, the suits, the fancy tech. But then you came along, and suddenly none of that mattered. Because you… you’re my everything. And I don’t want to waste another second pretending I don’t know that.”

Your breath catches as he shifts slightly, pulling a small box from the pocket of his sweatpants. He holds it up, his hand trembling just enough for you to notice.

“I’m not great at this kind of thing,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I know one thing for sure: I don’t want to wake up another day without knowing you’re mine. So, will you—?”

“Tony,” you interrupt, your own voice trembling now. You press a hand to your mouth, overwhelmed by the flood of emotions surging through you.

His face falls slightly, panic flashing in his eyes. “Oh, no. Is this a bad time? Did I—? I should’ve waited, shouldn’t I? Or maybe done the whole fireworks thing. Damn it, I knew I should’ve—”

“No, no, it’s not that,” you say quickly, though your tone is teasing now, even as tears glisten in your eyes. You let out a shaky laugh, leaning back slightly as if considering. “I don’t know, Tony… this is a pretty big decision. I mean, are you really sure you can handle me forever?”

He stares at you, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “What—? Of course, I’m sure! Are you seriously asking if I—?”

“I mean,” you continue, biting back a grin, “I do snore, apparently. And I’m not great at remembering where I put my keys. Plus, I make you watch all those sappy holiday movies—”

“Yes!” he blurts out, his voice a mix of exasperation and desperation. “Yes, I can handle all of that. Hell, I’d watch ‘Love, Actually’ on repeat for the rest of my life if it means you’ll say yes. Just—please. Don’t make me beg. I’m Tony Stark, for God’s sake.”

You can’t hold it in any longer. The laughter bubbles out of you, and you reach up to cup his face, your thumbs brushing over his stubble. “You’re such a dork,” you whisper, leaning in until your foreheads touch. “Of course, I’ll marry you.”

For a moment, Tony just stares at you, his brain clearly struggling to process your words. Then, his face breaks into a grin so wide it’s almost boyish, and he lets out a breathless laugh, relief washing over him like a tidal wave.

“You’re really saying yes?” he asks, as if he can’t quite believe it. “You’re not messing with me, right? Because if this is some elaborate joke—”

“I’m not messing with you,” you assure him, your own smile mirroring his. “I’m saying yes, Tony. A thousand times yes.”

He doesn’t wait another second. His arms wrap around you, pulling you into a kiss that’s both fervent and tender, a kiss that feels like a promise. When you finally pull away, both of you are breathless, your foreheads still pressed together.

“Merry Christmas,” he murmurs, his voice soft and full of wonder.

“Merry Christmas,” you reply, your fingers tangling in his hair as you kiss him again.

The massive tree in the corner of the penthouse sparkles like something out of a holiday dream, its glittering ornaments and twinkling lights casting a warm, golden glow over the room. The fireplace crackles softly, and the faint sound of holiday music hums in the background, setting the perfect cozy scene. You’re curled up on the plush couch, nestled into Tony’s side, a thick blanket draped over both of you. Your legs are tangled together, and in your hands is a mug of steaming hot cocoa, its sweetness enhanced by the swirl of whipped cream and the faintest hint of peppermint.

You glance at the tree, then at the pile of opened gifts scattered around the room. Wrapping paper is crumpled in corners, bows are tossed aside, and the faint smell of pine from the tree mingles with the chocolatey aroma of your drinks. But none of that holds your attention for long.

Your eyes drift down to your left hand, where the delicate engagement ring Tony slipped onto your finger just a little while ago catches the firelight. The diamond—a perfect, understated yet dazzling stone—is framed by a sleek, modern band that feels so you it’s uncanny.

“I still can’t believe this,” you murmur, holding your hand up slightly to admire the ring again. “It’s perfect. The size, the design… it’s like you read my mind.”

Tony smirks, taking a sip of his cocoa before setting the mug on the coffee table. “Please. You think I’d propose to you without doing my homework first? I might be reckless, but I’m not stupid.”

You turn to him, one brow raised in playful skepticism. “Homework? Is that what you’re calling it?”

“Absolutely,” he says, his tone teasing but with a glint of pride in his eyes. “I had spreadsheets. Diagrams. A whole team of—”

“Tony!” you cut him off, laughing as you swat at his chest. “You did not have a team.”

“Fine,” he relents, grinning. “But I did pay attention. All those times you casually pointed out rings in magazine ads or that one time you dragged me past Tiffany’s and sighed at the window display? Let’s just say I’ve been taking notes.”

You shake your head, marveling at him. “And the size? How did you get that right? Don’t tell me you measured my finger while I was sleeping or something creepy like that.”

Tony’s grin widens, and there’s a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. “Would you believe me if I said I have a natural talent for guessing ring sizes?”

“No.”

“Fair enough,” he concedes. “I may or may not have borrowed one of your rings when you weren’t looking. For research purposes.”

“Research purposes,” you repeat, your voice dripping with amusement. “Wow, I didn’t realize getting engaged to you would involve so much corporate espionage.”

“Hey,” he says, feigning indignation, “it worked, didn’t it? Look at that ring. Perfect fit, perfect style… just like the woman wearing it.”

The sincerity in his last words catches you off guard, and your playful retort dies on your lips. Instead, you feel a warmth spreading through your chest, a kind of joy so profound it’s almost overwhelming.

“You’re really something, you know that?” you say softly, setting your mug down so you can turn toward him fully.

Tony leans back slightly, a cocky grin on his face. “Something amazing, I hope.”

“Something infuriating,” you tease, your fingers brushing over the stubble along his jaw. “But yeah… amazing too.”

His grin softens into something more genuine, and he cups your face with one hand, his thumb tracing the curve of your cheek. “You make it easy, you know. Wanting to get this stuff right. You deserve it, all of it. The ring, the world, the whole damn galaxy if I could give it to you.”

You feel your throat tighten, and you lean into his touch, pressing a kiss to his palm. “I don’t need the galaxy, Tony. I just need you.”

There’s a flicker of something vulnerable in his expression, a glimpse of the man who hides beneath the sarcasm and the bravado. He leans in to kiss you, a slow and tender kiss that feels like a promise, like the future you’re both stepping into together.

When you pull back, you settle against his chest again, letting out a contented sigh. “So,” you say after a moment, your voice light, “what’s your favorite gift so far? Besides me saying yes, obviously.”

“Obviously,” he echoes, smirking as he runs his fingers through your hair. “That’s number one by a mile. But if I had to pick something else… I’d say the socks.”

You blink, confused. “The socks?”

“Yeah,” he says, nodding seriously. “You know, the ones with my face on them? Absolute game-changer.”

You laugh so hard you nearly spill your cocoa. “I knew you’d love those. Happy to know they rival the engagement ring.”

“Well, they don’t exactly rival the ring,” he admits, his tone turning thoughtful. “But they do add a certain… flair to my wardrobe. Can’t wait to wear them to the next board meeting.”

You groan, burying your face in his chest. “Please don’t.”

“No promises,” he says, kissing the top of your head.

You’re quiet for a while after that, the two of you simply enjoying the warmth and comfort of being together. The fire crackles softly, and the snow outside begins to fall more heavily, blanketing the city in a shimmering white coat. You watch it through the enormous windows, your head still resting against Tony’s shoulder.

“I think this might be my favorite Christmas ever,” you say after a while, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Only might?” Tony quips, though there’s a softness to his tone. “What do I have to do to make it the undisputed champ?”

“Hmm,” you pretend to think, holding up your hand again to admire the ring. “You’ve set the bar pretty high, Stark. Proposing and getting me the perfect ring? You might’ve peaked.”

“Peaked?” he repeats, feigning offense. “Please. This is just the beginning. Wait until next Christmas. I’ll have holographic wrapping paper and drones delivering your presents.”

You roll your eyes, laughing. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet,” he says, tightening his hold on you, “you said yes.”

You smile, snuggling closer to him, and let your eyes drift shut. The weight of the moment settles over you like the warmest of blankets, and for the first time in a long time, you feel like you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

Neither of you speaks for a while, content to simply be. The snow falls outside, the fire burns low, and the city below buzzes quietly with life. But up here, in this little corner of the universe, it’s just the two of you—and that’s more than enough.

The fire crackles softly in the background as you nestle further into Tony’s side, your legs draped lazily over his lap beneath the plush throw blanket. The mug of cocoa you abandoned earlier sits on the coffee table, now lukewarm, but neither of you has the energy or desire to move. The world beyond the enormous penthouse windows is a snow-covered wonderland, the city twinkling like something out of a postcard. But here, in Tony’s arms, the rest of the world feels like an afterthought.

You’re staring at your ring again—still unable to get over how perfectly it suits you—and twirling it gently on your finger. “I can’t believe we’re actually engaged,” you murmur, the words still foreign and thrilling all at once.

Tony hums, his fingers idly tracing patterns along your arm. “Yeah, well, it was bound to happen eventually. I’m a catch, after all.”

You snort, poking him in the ribs. “You’re lucky I love you, Stark. Otherwise, you’d be proposing to your ego.”

“Please,” he retorts, grinning. “My ego would’ve said no. Too much competition.”

Your laughter echoes warmly in the cozy space, and he pulls you closer, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “But seriously,” he continues, his voice softer now, “I’m the lucky one.”

The sincerity in his tone melts your teasing grin into a tender smile. “We’re both lucky,” you say, leaning up to kiss him briefly before settling back against him. “But now that you’ve got me locked down, we should probably start thinking about the next steps.”

Tony perks up at that, his eyebrows raising in mock surprise. “Next steps? Wow, didn’t realize we were rushing through the milestones. What’s next, matching sweatpants?”

“Don’t tempt me,” you tease, poking him again. “But seriously, we should start thinking about the wedding. You know, dates, locations, that kind of thing.”

“Oh, sure,” he says, waving a hand as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. “We’ll rent out a castle or something. Maybe a yacht. Or both. Castle on a yacht. I’ll make it happen.”

You roll your eyes, laughing. “Tony, we don’t need a castle on a yacht. I was thinking something more… intimate.”

“Intimate,” he repeats, like the word is entirely foreign to him. “Okay, define ‘intimate.’ Like… eighty people instead of eight hundred?”

“More like thirty,” you say, smirking at his dramatic gasp. “And maybe somewhere beautiful but low-key. A vineyard? A garden? Somewhere that doesn’t involve holographic invitations.”

Tony pouts, his bottom lip sticking out like a child denied dessert. “You’re no fun. I had this great idea for AI-driven seating charts.”

“Tony,” you groan, laughing as you swat his arm. “No AI at the wedding.”

“Fine, fine,” he concedes, though you can tell his brain is already whirring with ideas. “But we’re keeping the open bar. And there will be cake. A ridiculous amount of cake.”

“Deal,” you agree, grinning. “And maybe a live band? Something classic.”

“Classic, huh?” Tony muses, tilting his head as he considers. “Sinatra? Ella? Or are we talking ‘classic’ like… AC/DC?”

You laugh, burying your face in his shoulder. “I should’ve known you’d sneak AC/DC into this somehow.”

“Hey, it’s our wedding,” he says, his tone teasing but with a playful wink. “And by ‘our,’ I mean you’ll pick all the details, and I’ll just show up in a ridiculously expensive tux and look charming.”

You snuggle closer, your smile softening. “That’s all I really need, anyway.”

There’s a pause as the two of you settle into the quiet again, but you can feel Tony’s fingers fidgeting against your arm, a sure sign that his mind is still racing. You glance up at him, your brow raised. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“Nothing,” he says quickly, though the sheepish look on his face betrays him.

“Tony,” you press, sitting up slightly. “Spill.”

He hesitates for a moment, his eyes darting toward the window as if searching for an escape. Finally, he sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Fine. It’s just… I was thinking. About… you know, after the wedding.”

“After the wedding?” you echo, tilting your head. “You mean the honeymoon?”

“Sure,” he says, though his tone is distracted. “But I was also thinking… further out. Like… a house. Or maybe—hypothetically—a kid. Or two.”

Your mouth drops open slightly, caught completely off guard. “You’re already thinking about kids?”

“Hypothetically!” he clarifies quickly, though there’s a nervous energy to his voice. “I mean, I’m just saying… it’s crossed my mind. Once or twice. Or, you know, a dozen times.”

You’re quiet for a moment, processing his words. Then, a slow smile spreads across your face, and you lean back against him, wrapping your arms around his waist. “Tony Stark, are you saying you want to be a dad?”

He shifts uncomfortably, his cheeks tinged with the faintest hint of pink. “I’m saying… I wouldn’t hate the idea. I mean, think about it. A tiny human running around with your smarts and my charm? World domination is practically guaranteed.”

You laugh, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet,” he says, grinning now, “you said yes.”

You shake your head, your heart swelling with affection. “I think you’d be a great dad, Tony. Once you figure out how to baby-proof all your gadgets.”

“Oh, please,” he scoffs, though his smile is genuine. “I’d invent a whole line of Stark-brand baby-proof tech. Patent it. Make billions.”

“Of course you would,” you say, rolling your eyes. “But maybe we should focus on the wedding first before we start planning our takeover of the parenting world.”

“Fair,” he concedes, pulling you closer. “But just so you know, I’m already brainstorming names. You should’ve heard the one I came up with yesterday. Absolute gold.”

“Oh no,” you groan, laughing again. “I’m almost afraid to ask.”

He leans in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Tony Junior. Think about it. T.J. for short.”

You burst out laughing, your head falling against his chest. “We are not naming our child Tony Junior.”

“Fine, fine,” he says, chuckling along with you. “We’ll workshop it.”

As your laughter fades, you settle against him again, your fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on his chest. The firelight dances across the room, casting shadows on the walls, and you feel a profound sense of peace, of rightness, in this moment.

“Hey,” you say softly after a while, looking up at him. “I love you.”

His expression softens, and he leans down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I love you too.”

You smile, your hand drifting down to rest over his. “And for the record, I can’t wait for all of it. The wedding, the house, the future… everything. As long as it’s with you.”

Tony’s grin is slow and warm, and he wraps his arms around you like he never plans to let go. “Then it’s a deal.”

The two of you sit there for a long time after that, the snow falling steadily outside and the fire burning low. Together, you dream and plan and tease and laugh, painting the picture of a life that feels almost too perfect to be real. But with Tony by your side, you know it’s all possible—and more.

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chlorinecake · 1 year ago

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Hey can you make something like "kissing I hope they catch us " but for a black reader please?

Hot Cocoa Kisses —⊹ N.RK (西村力) ☕️

Pairing… ₊˚⊹ ᰔ boyfriend!riki x girlfriend!reader

Warnings… ₊˚⊹ slightly heated make-out session, teasing, pet names, fluff, rushed

Words… ₊˚⊹ ᰔ 867 -> “Your lips taste like hot cocoa”

It was a chilly winter day when you and your boyfriend Riki sat in the living room together.

Cradled in the fluffiest blankets you two could find, you sat in between Riki’s legs on the couch, reading a manga he received as a Christmas gift out loud as he braided a tiny section of your hair. Not to style it, of course, but just out of pure endearment for you.

“So what’s happening now?” Riki asked, mostly focused on carefully overlapping the three strands of hair he was working on.

“Hmm… I actually stopped reading the words a few pages ago. The illustrations alone are much more interesting in my opinion,” you replied, just as he kissed the center of your scalp, letting you know that he was done playing with your hair.

“Let me see,” he said, taking the comic from your hands to examine it for himself. “Yeahhh… the dialogue is pretty impressive, actually. No wonder a little baby like you only wants to look at the pictures though,” he giggled, tickling the spot beneath your jawline before getting up and walking towards the kitchen.

You weren’t ready to leave the warmth of the cozy couch yet, but you understood that Riki wanted one more thing before y’all continued to spend this lovely winter evening together: Hot cocoa.

Your arms found Riki’s waist as he reached for the top cabinet, grabbing the box of hot cocoa mix from the top shelf.

“Almost forgot about these,” he said, pulling down mini marshmallows next.

You put yourself in charge of warming the milk for your drinks, followed by stirring the cocoa mix into your mugs and then waiting for it to cool.

“Are they finished, yet? It’s not like we’re making “cold cocoa” anyways,” Riki sighed, leaning over the counter on his elbows.

“Well if we add the marshmallows now, they’re just gonna melt again, see?” You said, grabbing one of the cups to take a sip, “I mean, it’s not as hot anymore, though, if you’re just tired of waiting.”

Upon saying that, Riki just stared at you for much longer than necessary, holding back a smile as his eyes glittered with amusement.

“W-what?” You asked, poking him on the shoulder which only made him laugh out loud this time.

“It’s the braid you did, isn’t it?,” you continued with a pout. He shook his head at your words, walking up to you and taking your face in one of his hands, swiping some moisture from your upper lip with his thumb before tasting it himself.

“You had a milk mustache, silly,” he smiled softly, eyes not leaving your lips as he licked his own, leaning in with a soft kiss.

Humming into the embrace, a smile creeped upon Riki's face as your hand found his neck, supporting yourself against the counter for him to only pull you closer.

“Riki~,” you mumbled while disconnecting your lips, “where’d all that come from?” you asked, still in a daze as you felt heat rush to your face.

He bit his lower lip, looking you up and down through hooded eyes as his hands rested on either side of the countertop, caging you in before his intimidating frame.

“Nowhere,” he smirked, pecking you one last time on the corner of your mouth before continuing, “your lips taste like hot cocoa and I just couldn’t resist.”

Playfully smacking your boyfriend’s chest, he released you from his arm cage, watching as you went back to the other counter, shaking marshmallows in both your mugs before sealing the bag closed.

He took so much delight in seeing how flustered you appeared now. You even fumbled with your fingers as you tried closing the bag all thanks to his actions.

“Are you sure you don’t want something cold to drink instead? You seem warm all of a sudden,” he teased, wiping the spilled remnants of sugary mix from the countertop with a napkin.

“Do I? Maybe it’s because you keep looking at me like this,” you teased back, dramatically reenacting the way he looked at you earlier, biting your lip to seal the deal.

He laughed with his entire body, leaning over the counter as soft giggles rumbled from his body. But then, his cocky side returned.

“Is that the only thing I did that got you flustered, or is there more?” He asked, voice deepening slightly as his piercing gaze scanned you once again.

“Hmm… well… you also touched me like this,” you said, cupping his face in your hands, “and then I nearly fainted when you kissed me like there was no tomorrow!”

“No tomorrow, huh? That sounds romantic,” he smirked, trying to mask how giddy you were making him feel in this moment even though the pink hue staining his cheeks and ears made it impossible to hide.

“That’s because it was romantic, Riki,” you smiled lovingly, kissing your finger and placing it on his rosy nose before walking back to the living room, warm mugs in both your hands as you returned to your seats on the cozy couch.

The same place you knew Riki would eventually start to kiss you again the moment you sat your cup down.

❆ Thank you for reading this quick little fic, and special thanks to my bbygirl for requesting this !!

❆ Feel free to check out more cute and fun reads like this at the pinned post on my blog :3

❆ Taglist: @squoxle @ashgonedash @nikisdubblchococake @yourmomscuntis2tighy @watamotee33 @noodlesimp @microwvdstrawb3rri3s @star-yawnznn

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cameronspecial · 1 year ago

Text

Let Me Spend Christmas With You, Angel

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Sex

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.0K

Summary: With the Holidays around the corner, Rafe only has one goal this season.

Masterlist

As the semester comes to an end, the Holiday break is fast approaching. Y/N is packing her suitcase for her flight home while Rafe pouts on her bed. “I still don’t get why you don’t want to come to Guadalupe with me and my family,” he grumbles as she packs another knitted sweater. “We weren’t together last Christmas.” The corners of her lips are slightly curved downward and her head swivels on itself. “I know we didn’t get to have Christmas together last year and I really do want to spend the Holidays with you. But I also want a white Christmas. You know, snow, fireplaces, and hot cocoa,” she argues. Rafe gets up from the bed and holds onto her arm, “Come on, Angel. Who needs those things when you can have beaches and sex on the beach? The drink and the act. Please, let me spend Christmas with you, Angel.” It’s rare to see Rafe begging, expect if it means he gets to spend more time with Y/N. “Rafe, that sounds really nice. But what about my family?” she asks, wrapping her arms around his neck. His eyes bore into hers, “They can come too. There are more than enough rooms in our beach house for your family.” He watches as a sparkle starts to form in her eyes, alongside her smile. “Really? I’ll go ask them if they want to go now,” she pulls out her phone and dials her mom’s number.

———

Rafe’s hand is on the small of her back as he guides her down the stairs of the Camerons’ private jet. Y/N can feel water start to pool out of her pores. “Thank you again for inviting us on vacation with you guys,” he can hear Garth thank Ward ahead of them. Ward shakes his head, “No problem. Last year, Rafe was so sulky without Y/N with him, so I’m glad to do anything for them to be together this year.” Overhearing the men’s conversation, she giggles at the thought of her boyfriend missing her. Rafe frowns at her and brings her to his side. “Don’t laugh at my misfortune,” he laments, kissing her cheek. She throws her hand up in the air, “I’m sorry, but you are just so darn cute.”

———

Christmas morning is a little bit different for her this year. Y/N and Rafe had found a secluded beach on the island and after they spent Christmas Eve with their families, they snuck away to it for an amazing night together. The grains of sand shift under her weight as she twists in his hold. The towel they are lying on barely does anything to keep the sand away from their skin. Her eyes flutter open to see Rafe’s still breathing shallowly. She kisses his lips and watches as he starts to wake up. “Merry Christmas, Rafe,” she whispers, burying her head in his neck. His lips press a kiss in her hair, “Merry Christmas, Angel. We should probably head back home. I know Wheezie is going to be dying to open the presents.” She agrees with his statement and they both get their bathing suits on to go home.

“Looks like the love birds have finally pulled themselves out of wherever they were. Come on you two, we were just about to open presents,” Candace beckons Rafe and her daughter as they walk through the front door. The couple makes their way down into the living room, where the Christmas tree is, and settles on the floor. Rafe and Y/N’s hips brush against each other because of how close they are sitting.

Each family member takes turns opening a gift with the watchful eyes of the other members. The next gift placed in Y/N’s lap is a rectangular prism wrapped in paper with tiny reindeer on them. The card sticking out behind the ribbon has her name written on it in Rafe’s chicken scratch and his name under it. She keeps the card and takes the time to take the tape off of the paper to preserve it. Underneath, she finds a white cardboard box with no identifiers as to what is inside. She gives Rafe a raised eyebrow and he encourages her to open it. Her thumb slots in the gap of the box’s lid, pulling it open. Inside is a mason jar decorated with ribbons and tiny hearts. The label says One Hundred Reasons Why I Love You in cursive writing she has never seen before. There are folded paper slips in the jar. She opens it up and picks one out. The writing is in the same effortful cursive. Reason #47: You never judge me for my mistakes. Instead, you help me grow from them. She is touched that he took the time to work on her gift because she is sure each reason is something just as thoughtful as this one. Tears brim in her eyes as she pulls him into a hug. “Thank you,” she murmurs in his ear.

Next to open a gift is Rafe and it just so happened to be Y/N’s. He removes the tissue paper from the bag, folding it nicely for Y/N to reuse later. He finds a folded article of clothing inside. It is a jean jacket and on the back, there is an embroidered picture. The beautiful work shows Rafe and Y/N kissing. He turns the jacket so he can see the front to find Angel written in a heart on the breast pocket. Y/N has obviously put a lot of effort into the gift and he loves it. He brings her in for a kiss as a thank you. She smiles at the feel of his lips on her skin. This Christmas might not be spent in the snow, but Christmas in the sand is just as good.

———

Rafe is getting lunch when Jaiden walks into the kitchen. Rafe’s back is facing the doorway so he doesn’t notice the other boy’s appearance. Jaiden stares at Rafe’s back in amazement. “Your jacket is so cool, Dude,” Jaiden compliments, heading to the fridge to get a beer. Rafe turns toward his fellow brother and beams with pride. “Why thank you, my angel made it for me. I’m one lucky guy,” he gushes. “Well, she did a great job,” Jaiden adds before leaving the room. Rafe can’t hide his grin as he finishes lunch and brings it upstairs to his angel.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @queen-shadow22 @nonbullshit-toleratingkindagirl

#let me angel #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #outer banks #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #outer banks x reader #rafe cameron series #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks fic #obx #obx fanfiction #obx fic #obx x reader

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seookki · 1 month ago

Note

Hi!! would you be interested in writing some ushijima fluff? :)

of course! Thanks for requesting!

𝐇𝐨𝐭 𝐂𝐨𝐜𝐨𝐚 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬

Ushijima x Reader

1.0k words

────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────────

Winter festivals were never Ushijima Wakatoshi's thing, but ever since he met you, he had made some exceptions. You were so excited about the upcoming winter festival as you loved the holiday spirit and celebrating with people while cozying under scarves and drinking hot cocoa.

Your winter break just started and Ushijima was walking you home. You couldn't contain your excitement about the upcoming festival and kept talking about it as Ushijima listened. The corner of his eyes crinkles slightly at your rosy cheeks and how your eyes were glittering in excitement. He takes your hand in his and puts it in his pocket to keep warm as you continue to talk about it while smiling a little wider.

The night of Christmas Eve has finally come and Ushijima was waiting outside your door. He exhaled to see the cloud of vapor that came from his warmth and you suddenly came out frantic with your hat barely on your head and your jacket in one arm.

"Ushi! I'm sorry I kept you waiting in the cold, I was taking too long getting ready" You exclaim as you catch your breath and put your shoes on all the way.

He couldn't help but find your frantic appearance adorable and he adjusted your hat and helped you put your jacket in the other arm. "It's alright. I didn't wait long." You smile at him as he helps you and it immediately warms him up, extinguishing the cold that once enveloped him. "Let's go now, it should be starting soon." He says as he extends his hand which has you quickly take it in excitement.

You both start walking and you couldn't help but to smile into your scarf at the fact that your stoic boyfriend who never attends anything festive would go to a festival for you. You look up at him while walking and he notices and stops to look down at you. "Is there something wrong?" he asks. You shake your head lightly as you grin at him. "I'm just glad you're coming with me. I know you probably didn't want to." His face unchanged, he shakes his head and lightly tucks a strand of your hair away from your face. "I like whatever makes you happy." This gets you to smile wider as you continue to walk while lightly swinging your arms.

You arrive at the festival and your eyes widen in immediate happiness. The Christmas lights twinkle luminously with various colors and patterns and the streets are crowded with people laughing and singing with joy. A giant Christmas tree sits at the center decorated with ornate objects and paper wishes and your heart couldn't feel any warmer from the sight.

"Ushi, let's get hot coco first!" You say brightly as you point towards a hot cocoa stand. Ushijima nods as he takes your lead and offers to pay for your hot cocoa. The warmth from the cup brings comfort into your hand and you sigh at the richness of the chocolate. Ushijima takes a sip and closes his eyes, savoring the heat of the drink and letting it envelop his body.

You continue walking around with both your hands warmed up with your coco and Ushijima's hand and you couldn't feel happier. You both check out the petting zoo with a pony and tiny goats and the little shops that are selling aromatic candles that smell like holly, cinnamon, and clove. You buy some small things from these little shops as presents and souvenirs as Ushijima quietly follows you around.

Finally, you walk up to the tree while finishing your last drop of hot cocoa. "Ushi, let's write a wish together!" You turn to the olive haired volleyball player as he also finishes his drink. He nods and lets go of your hand to retrieve the paper ornaments and pencils. He comes back and you two are writing on the ornament and you slightly shield yours by turning away so he doesn't see what you're writing. You both finish writing and he puts his up and he helps you put yours up next to his.

You lean against his shoulder and wrap your arms around his bicep as you look up to see your ornaments hang. "Look at what I wrote," You say while pointing to it.

'I wish that Ushi and I can go to the winter festival together every year' is what it read and Ushijima had a small soft smile spread on his face. "I wrote a similar thing." he says and you look up to read his. 'I wish to come back again with Y/N every year.' You turn your head to look up at him and you open your mouth into a wide smile. "Really? You liked coming here with me?" He nods as he turns and faces you as his olive eyes warmly locked with yours. "I want to be wherever you are Y/N," Your face flushes and you look down at your hands fiddling with your scarf as you mumble into it "Why're you suddenly so mushy Ushi," You say still smiling. He takes his hand and lifts your chin gently and his face seems significantly closer to yours. "Am I not allowed to?" he responds back.

You stare at each other's eyes and then the clock bell rings and the area suddenly gets louder as people around start wishing 'Merry Christmas' to one another. You look back into his eyes and he suddenly leans in, pressing his lips gently against yours. Your eyes widen in surprise but you quickly respond back and close them.

The rich cocoa flavor mixed between you both as it still lingered in your mouths. The kiss warmed your faces and you both stayed there for a while with Ushijima's hand on your cheek and your hands holding onto his jacket. You both slowly pulled back and you couldn't contain your smile in which he reciprocated back with a rare one.

"Merry Christmas Ushi." You say with an eye-closing grin.

"Merry Christmas Y/N." He says with a thin smile as he leans back down for another kiss.

#haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyu x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima x reader #fluff #christmas #hq x reader #hq fluff #request #I love christmas so much

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theinheriteddutchess · 17 days ago

Text

A Different Christmas

Part two of Dreams can come True

Summary: it's Christmas and Lee and you spend it together

Pairing: Lee Bodecker x reader

Word count: 1216

Warnings: some smut, just just fluff, neurodivergent reader, alpha/Omega

Notes: well here's some fluff for the lovers 🤭 happy holidays everyone!💕🎄

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He's sitting in his comfortable chair, whiskey in his hand - his first and only - watching the scene in front of him.

His belly is full with the amazing dinner his wife prepared, just like it was every day after he claimed her.

The house is decorated with tinsel and in the corner is a tree with little ornaments, with candles, and glittery decorations throughout the living room.

Last year he sat alone in the dark, drinking away his sorrows, and thinking of his dreams of his own family.

This year it has all come true.

He got his dream girl, he's got a happy home, and he's going to be a father soon.

His wife is kneeled on the floor, surrounded by the presents he got her. The look on her face one of excitement, and it looks like she's emanating a glow. She shines, at least in his eyes.

His chest warms with his emotions. He didn't think he was capable of loving a person as much - the cold bastard that he is.

But she's been everything to him.

She, and the little bub that would soon arrive. A real family.

He'd make sure they'd be taken care of, that they know they were loved and protected. Want for nothing.

“Oh Lee, it's so pretty!” He was pulled out of his thoughts by the exclamation.

“You shouldn't have, it's way too expensive. You already gave me so much.” her face was lit up with happiness, as she held up the necklace carefully.

Her eyes were intense, like she was going feral, and he knew she needed a break to calm down before she got overwhelmed with all the sensations.

“Come here, let me put it on you,” he smiled and sat up straighter.

She walked over and held the necklace out for him to take, and turned. Instead, he grabbed her and carefully placed her on his lap. She squeaked, but settled down against his chest. He unclasped the lock and lifted the necklace over her head and carefully locked it again. His big fingers were struggling with the tiny mechanism for a bit. She hummed and touched the sparkly jewels in awe.

“It's so pretty,” she mumbled again.

“Not as pretty as you, sweetheart,” he said truthfully, meaning every word.

“Oh Lee…” she tutted. “No, I'm-”

He turned her face towards him. “Beautiful! I don't want to hear a bad word about my wife, you get that? Not one. She's perfect in my eyes and it would hurt me if anyone says differently. Even you.”

She lowered her eyelashes bashfully, but nodded like the good girl she was. Always willing to please him if it made him happy.

“How about we get some hot cocoa? That's a must at Christmas, isn't it?”

She lit up again. “Yes. It is. We always use a lot of whipped cream at home and -” she fell silent.

“We'll see your parents tomorrow, honey. Just wanted to spend first Christmas day with my wife. But we got whipped cream, take as much as you want.”

“I worry they'll be lonely,” she whispered a little smally.

“They’re together, it's only one day,” he shushed her. “ And they'll forget it as soon as you give them the gift we got them.”

She smiled again. “They'll think it was too expensive.”

It was. “Well, they deserve it. They're good people. Raised their daughter well. They deserve a break.”

A nice trip outside of the city. His way of trying to make amends. Maybe, if it all went well, they could plan something for the whole family. Right now, he wasn't sure if they'd appreciate seeing his face everyday. He hoped the little one would soften any resentment left of him taking their daughter. Or better said, the deceit he used to take her.

He sighed, but smiled, as he saw her hurry to the kitchen to prepare the treat for the both of them. She was getting so big, he figured he should start doing it instead. Take off the load. Pamper her more.

The men at work already thought he did, that he turned into a right sap, but it wasn't enough. He hated the thought she was exerting herself too much. She said she liked caring for him. He read the books though, and talked to the doctor. Her body was changing, aching, it would become difficult to move. He wasn't going to watch her struggle. He'd let her provide for now, and after tonight insist on doing it himself. If he demanded it she would let him. She listened so sweetly.

He cleared his throat and changed his position, feeling himself stir in his pants. It was unavoidable with her around, her scent heavy in the air. Happy Omega. Pregnant Omega. His. He groaned, his thoughts not helping him calm down.

She popped her head out of the kitchen. Eyes Wide. Dilated. “Lee?” She asked unsure. She must've smelled him.

“ I…I just want,” he mumbled helplessly. Her scent thickening made his brain numb..

“Alpha,” she murmured shyly, looking down coyly, but he knew this was her way of asking.

“Come here,” he croaked, spreading his legs.

She squeaked shortly, before rushing over. Well, as much as she could, with a belly full of his child. His cock jumped at that thought. He started sweating with how quickly his body was heating up. She moved in front of him. Biting her lip, looking away. Overwhelmed with the intensity of the energy between them.

“Take off your clothes,” he ordered, opening his belt as his eyes never left her face.

A breathy gasp was released, as her fingers fumbled with her buttons. She was still demure, quick to be embarrassed, but she did it anyway. Eyes now firmly placed on his crotch, as she did what he asked. With each piece of skin she revealed, he felt like he could come untouched. She was so beautiful, her smell in his nose, driving him crazy.

When she was completely bare, except for the necklace falling perfectly around her neck, he beckoned her with a finger. She climbed on his lap, smearing her slick on his pants and he groaned as she touched his dick as she settled.

“Take me,” he mumbled.

That was it. Her eyes dazed as she locked them with his, and her hand reached between them to grip him and lead him to her heaven.

It felt too much, as she dank down on him, taking him all in.

“Lee,” she moaned, delighted.

This would never be enough. He would never tire of her. Never stop loving her. She was everything, and he would give her his all.

As she moved, and he bucked up, she came to completion so quick, it stirred his ego with the knowledge he did this to her. He had this effect on her. He was enough. She loved him.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” he said, in between thrusting.

“ Oh, oh, oh!” Was all she could say and with how slurred it was, it sounded a little bit like ‘ho ho ho’.

He pressed his lips on her forehead, hiding his smirk.

The perfect Christmas, one they would have every year from now on. Him and his girl. He couldn't think of a better gift.

Part 3

Taglist: @thezombieprostitute

@bitchymama

@allthenobodyppl-fics

@caplanbuckybarnes

@clancycolzig

@littlelovebug98

#Lee bodecker #dream of a girl sequel #lee bodecker x reader #Dreams can come true #Fanfiction #Sebastian Stan fanfiction #Alpha!lee bodecker x Omega!Reader #Lee bodecker x you #lee bodecker x female reader #Omegaverse #alpha x omega #a different Christmas

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